FIGMENT
Sam ran into the motel room as if the devil were after him.
Falling to his knees, he pulled out his knife and ran a wicked slice up his arm, then soaked his hand in the blood and started frantically copying out a pattern on the floor.
It was an intricate design. The blood on his hand kept drying. He had to keep pressing on the wound to keep the blood flowing so that he could finish.
When he was done, Sam covered it with a sheet from the bed. Then, wild-eyed, he flattened himself against the wall and waited.