Previously on the Murder Club: Tyki reminisced about his past. The hitchhiker was rude.
-o0o-
A few hours prior, Tyki would never have imagined finding himself in this kind of situation. Actually, he still wasn't sure about what to do in this kind of situation, even if he knew exactly how it had come about. So, what was the situation? Well‒
The current situation was this: He was kneeling on the bathroom floor in a motel. To be specific, he was kneeling behind someone, holding the hair away from their face while they threw up the meagre contents of their stomach; it was mostly just fluid, but no less gross in Tyki's private opinion. Mind you, he was not particularly squeamish, except when bowels were somehow involved; those were pretty damned disgusting, and speaking of disgusting things‒
"You think that you can manage for a sec? I need to fetch some stuff from the car."
In all actuality, Tyki should really just head out to the car, stick the key into the ignition, twist it and then floor it out of there before‒ "I'm okay."
Tyki would beg to differ, but‒ "I know, and this will only take a sec."
He didn't even bother putting on his jacket as he jogged out to the car; the jacket would have done him little good anyway, because it was still drenched from earlier. The rain still hadn't let up though. By the time Tyki got to his car, his clothes were already clinging uncomfortably to his frame; he didn't find it in himself to care an awful lot though, because he was planning on taking a shower later anyway.
After retrieving the tin box hidden beneath the passenger seat, Tyki swiftly headed back inside, shutting and locking the door behind him before leaning his back against it, reminiscing about the events that had led up to this point.
First of all, there was picking up the bloody hitchhiker, the one currently doubled over in the bathroom.
Secondly, there was extracting the details about what had occurred. Easier said than done.
Then there was returning to the scene of the crime, the very thing that all smart serial killers avoided. Never mind the fact that it hadn't even been Tyki's own crime scene; turning up at a crime scene always carried the risk of exposure. After all, no matter how smart a killer was or how skilled they were at disposing of evidence, there was absolutely no certainty that they would not leave behind some type of trail, and with a bit of bad luck, one that could be picked up.
Of course, a lot of that was probably just Tyki's paranoia speaking. Unlike many of his associates, Tyki was not above believing that he could get caught if he slipped up a time too many. Granted, he had a fairly wide striking range and a tendency to pay in cash. Tyki also used relatively unremarkable methods as far as killing was concerned, which meant that there was nothing particularly noteworthy about his MO.
As for the MO of his companion, Tyki was undeniably curious. After all, he had arrived at the scene thinking this was either a first kill or possibly a second, third or fourth; in other words, the work of a budding killer rather than an experienced one. Crouching down on the floor, Tyki had found himself admiring the other's handiwork.
After all, although the aim had certainly been a bit off, the tool and utilised force had more than made up for the skewed angle. Looking at the scene, Tyki found it very likely that the victim had bled out within minutes. There were far worse ways to go, and after Tyki had surveyed the area a bit more closely, he was happy that the guy had likely been conscious and aware of the fate awaiting him.
Tyki might not have been very religious. He also wasn't a very good person, being a serial killer and all. However, Tyki still believed that there was a special place in Hell reserved for people who assaulted children. Actually, Tyki realised that he very likely had an issue with all types of sexual predators, even though he was not as zealous as Sheril when it came to seeking them out.
People who viewed themselves as hunters seldom imagined that they could also become hunted themselves. The predators hardly expected their targets to turn the tables on them; they expected resistance, yes, and some found that resistance to be an absolutely integral part of the experience. Other wanted no resistance, resorting to drugs and weapons and restraints to gain the upper hand. The one who had bled out on the floor had definitely belonged to the latter.
The man had had two quite extensive collections; one collection of various pills and such shit and another with a photographs, both printed ones and digital ones. There were also recordings, even VHS-tapes, but Tyki sure as heck wasn't going to go down that rabbit hole. Instead, having come to grasps with the general scenario at hand, Tyki had gone to seek out the hitchhiker.
Tyki had found him sitting out on the doorstep looking pretty dazed, huddled in the blanket and clutching it like a lifeline. All things considered, Tyki probably shouldn't have brought him back there, but‒ "Hey, are you still in there?"
Tyki had not received an answer immediately, but when he had reached out to touch the boy's hair, the boy had swatted his hand away and glared, proving that he wasn't all gone yet. "Don't touch me."
Tyki had held up his hands in mock surrender, simply because. "No touching, got it. Now..."
He had leaned down slightly. "Have you ever disposed of a dead body before?"
-o0o-
By the time that Tyki got back inside of the motel room, it was almost eerily quiet. He set down the tin box onto the bed and then approached the bathroom door, wondering whether or not he ought to expect some type of ambush. Granted, it would have been an absolutely shitty way of repaying Tyki after all this, but Tyki didn't make the rules on how some people operated now, did he?
Pressing down the handle, Tyki opened the door just a crack. Nothing. He opened it a bit further and then hit a stop. Tyki resisted the surfacing urge to stick his head inside and determine the exact nature of this obstacle, he really did; for about five seconds or so. Because by sticking his head inside, Tyki was able to determine what he had already suspected; his companion, already worn out from everything, had lost their fight against mounting exhaustion and now lay on the bathroom floor, looking a lot less alive than a lot of the corpses Tyki had seen.
It was a tight fit for Tyki to slip through the crack. Once inside though, it would be an easy matter to remove the unconscious doorstopper. Sighing, Tyki crouched down and reached out to touch the boy's shoulder, but the latter was out cold… or not, considering the fever and all. Anyways, there was no reaction, and as much as Tyki wanted to shower, he honestly wasn't into showering with an audience, even if said audience was currently out of it.
Tyki scooped the boy up, using his foot to open the door fully. He carefully deposited him onto one of the beds, arranging the boy's body in something akin to the recovery position before heading off.
The water pressure was a bit on the low side, but in Tyki's mind, the shower still made it to his top ten. It felt good to have the water wash over him, to have it wash away lingering dirt and smells. After all, being a habitual smoker was one thing, and smelling of smoke and gasoline was another thing altogether.
Arson really wasn't Tyki's cup of tea. Considering everything though, it had been the greatest option at hand; they had both been careless after all. Besides, the bastard on the floor was already going to Hell, so Tyki had figured that he might as well give him a good send-off. Tyki had also been able to provide him with a travelling companion; popping the trunk open, he had retrieved the body of his latest victim and some other stuff that he needed. The boy's eyes had followed him all the way.
The fire would no doubt attract attention, but so would the highly incriminating photographs contained in the box that Tyki had put into the offender's car, making sure not to leave any obvious hairs or fingerprints behind. There, he had also found and retrieved a familiar pack; the boy's eyes had grown wide at the sight of it, and he had stared at Tyki for a moment in surprise before his expression had closed back up. Tyki had studied the expression for a moment before finally making his decision. "Go wait in the car."
Surprisingly, the boy had obeyed, taking the pack and stumbling off in direction of the car. For a while, Tyki had just stood there, watching, wondering whether or not the other would risk a mad dash into the woods the moment Tyki's back was turned.
As such, Tyki had been pleasantly surprised when he had exited the house to find the hitchhiker passed out in the passenger seat. Watching him, it had occurred to Tyki just how easy it would have been to do away with him now and to get rid of the body afterwards. That time would have been the opportune moment to do so, but Tyki hadn't.
Had Sheril been dead, then he would have rolled in his grave, no doubt.
Emerging from the shower with a towel around his waist and using another to rub his hair dry, Tyki should not have been surprised to find a knife at his throat the moment he stepped out of the bathroom; the little brat must have gone through the pockets of Tyki's jacket while he was in the shower. Smart. Confronting him instead of hightailing it out of there however? Possibly not so smart.
Then again, the latter issue could definitely be debated, because the boy was visibly winded, sweating and trembling more pronouncedly than before. The voice remained steady though, and the gaze steady and dark; he either had no fear or was hiding it very well. "What do you want from me, Tyki Mikk?"
The boy uttered the name like it was a curse; Tyki found that he very much liked the sound of it.
"Well… your name would be a good start, I guess?"
-o0o-