Literature
Chapter 2: Signal
Cold water splashes his face like an electric shock.
The faucet squeaks—
off.
Hands,
steady on the edges of the sink.
Droplets drip from his bangs,
hitting the metal surface and going down the drain.
He raises his head.
His eyes settle on his reflection.
He narrows his eyes,
as the piercing glints under the fluorescent light—
cutting through the healed scar.
Pulling.
Low,
and hooded.
Bloodshot.
His pupils widen,
as he catches the pale slash.
A pitch whines, high and thin—dead.
He blinks.
The noise is gone.
Hands slide off the sink.
He stands straight.
The mirror is slightly below him.
Beneath the opener playing, three knocks hit the door.
“Almost done?” It’s Chase.
There’s movement—a shift of weight.
He knocks twice.
Chase knocks once—
then he’s gone.
He rolls his fingers,
one through four,
into his palms.
He shuts off the light.
Leaves the bathroom.
Tap
Tap
Tap
Sticks drill onto a rubber pad.
High, fast,
frantic.
Squeaaak
Squeaaak
Squeaaak
Microfiber drags over