Blood-stained Secrets
Chapter 2
He came to a large metal door halfway down the hall and dumped the body on the ground, which made a muffled 'thump' as it hit the floor. He had to use both hands to open the door which creaked and groaned as it swung open. Inside was a very large furnace. Richtofen used it mainly for disposing of the bodies, and the pieces of the bodies, that he no longer had use for. He rarely used it. He didn't particularly like having to rid himself of this body, for most of it was still intact and seemed like a waste to 'throw out', but he was quickly running out of room to keep the extra bodies.
He drug body to the entrance of the furnace, leaving a bloody trail behind it. The heat from the furnace caused sweat to bead at his forehead, which he absently wiped away with the sleeve of his jacket. He lifted the body up by its ankles and effortlessly tossed it in. For a moment nothing happened, but after a few seconds the mans torn, blood-stained clothes caught fire and soon the whole body was consumed by the hungry flames. The smell of burning cloth and flesh quickly filled the room. Richtofen stood there for a moment longer watching in sadistic glee as the dead man was completely engulfed in fire. Yet the heat from the furnace was growing stronger thanks to the added fuel so the Doctor was forced to leave.
Richtofen stopped outside of the room. He sighed and used his blood-stained fingers to rub the side of his head, growing frustrated with his lack of progress.
"Nein." He scolded himself, "It iz only a matter of time. I must continue my investigation." He grabbed the handle of the metal door from behind him and yanked it shut, the sound of the metal door slamming against the concrete frame echoing eerily down the hall in the silence. He stepped into the hall and turned away from his office, walking further down the hallway. His temporary burst of adrenaline he got from torturing his victim had left him as he trudged slowly down the hall. His lack of sleep over the last few days was finally catching up to him. Or was it weeks? He shook his head, he couldn't even keep track of the time passed while he was here. Normally he could go for weeks without sleep, but lately the extra stress along with the physical toll of interrogating multiple subjects a night was leaving him exhausted and tired.
Not far down the hall he turned right down a path that branched off the main hallway. This small corridor stretch only a few feet before turning into a dead-end. Halfway down there was another small door, in slightly better shape than the others. He reached into his pocket and felt around until he pulled out a silver key. He inserted the key into the lock on the door and after a few tries the lock shifted and the door opened with a sharp click.
This particular room was the most normal looking room in the entire building. A bedroom. It was also the least used room in the entire building, which explained its clean tidy state besides the thin layer of dust covering just about every object in it. It was about the same size as his office and in it was a plain twin-sized bed, the dull green-blue sheets neatly made and undisturbed. Next to the bed was a small wooden nightstand with a lamp and old clock place in the middle. On the opposite side of the bed a wooden closet, cracks streaking across the doors, was pushed up against the wall.
The doctor walked over to the closet and opened the doors which stubbornly opened with a squeak of protest. After brushing aside a spider and its web that had inhabited the old wardrobe, he pulled out a change of clothes identical to the green uniform he was currently wearing. He pushed the doors shut and quickly changed out of his stained, bloodied clothes and deposited them on the floor at the foot of the bed.
After ridding the sheets of the dust Richtofen pulled the covers back and on his back in the bed staring at the cracked ceiling, willing sleep to come. And when sleep finally came his dreams were filled with blood and gore along with the agonized cries and screams of his victims as he slowly tore their lives away. It was the best sleep he had gotten in years.
Richtofen woke with a start, his heart racing, forehead covered in sweat. His dream extremely vivid and real. It may not have been a bad dream but the ferocity of it left him panting and out of breath. Another reason he rarely slept. He often woke up feeling more exhausted than when he first went to sleep. He buried his head in his hands, letting out a shaky, humorless laugh. He swore he could still smell the metallic tang of blood wafting through the air of the small room, threatening to engulf him.
He lifted his head and swung his feet over the side of the bed, leaning over to retrieve his hat off the floor. It must have fallen off while he was sleeping. He adjusted it on his head, stood up and began making the bed. After he finished he reached over and picked up the clock resting on the nightstand. Nine-twenty. He'd gotten roughly three hours of sleep. Not as much as he would have liked but it would have to do. There was work to be done.