The sound of a dinging woke him. He was back in the bathroom, and outside he knew was the front desk's bell, ringing every three seconds. He could hear a voice rambling from the lobby. A single voice. Marvin got up as quietly as he could and thought about how he was going to get out. The bathroom window above was small, but he had to try. Dragging a garbage can to below the window, he stood on it and opened the window, his hands and forearms swathed in decade old web and dust. One shoulder was all he could get outside. No good, I'm too big. His foot landed partly off the edge of the can and he stumbled onto the floor. The can fell over, making a sound, where, in a ghost town like this, might as well have been a firecracker. Shit. Marvin, you idiot. He scolded himself. The ringing had stopped and so had the voice. Footsteps approached from the outside towards the door. The knob was tried, then who was outside started to pound on the door.
"Let...me in." The man on the outside said, slowly, as if the words pained him. The pounding got louder, and he kept trying the knob uselessly. Marvin tore a piece of his shirt off and wrapped his hand with it. He picked up the longest shard of the mirror and stood by the door. In the reflection of the broken piece, he saw he was not alone in the bathroom. He jerked his head towards the woman standing by the toilet.
"Of course, that would be one of your first solutions." Sherry shook her head contemptuously. "Everyone was right to be afraid of you."
"It's just to be safe," Marvin defended. "I won't kill him if I don't have to."
"Sounds like it wouldn't bother you if you had to."
"What? Do you want me to talk it out? They're all out of their minds!" Marvin's anger was rising, "They're dangerous."
"Like you." Sherry stepped closer.
Blood seeped into the rag, the edge of the fragment cutting his skin as he squeezed it. Marvin took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused.
"Why am I even talking to you? You're not here." He said silently to himself.
And Sherry was gone once again.
Outside, a new sound caught his attention. Keys jingled, and footsteps approached the door. Marvin readied himself, his reflective dagger tight in his grip, though greatly uncomfortable. A key slid into the lock, turned. The door swung open. The man did not see Marvin right away, looking straight ahead while he kept close to the wall next to the door. He's one of them, alright, thought Marvin as he watched the man shamble in. He could tell by his solid rusty-red eyes. He was a big guy and looked to be in his mid 50's. His hair was snow white and thin with a big mole on his cheek. He wore a cops uniform, and on his belt was a pistol. Marvin hoped, in his state, he didn't know how to use it. It was still holstered, after all.
As cop kept hobbled forward, Marvin kept quiet and still. His focus was on the open window. Must be thinking I already left, thought Marv, just a little further, then I bolt it.
He had been barely able to turn a heel before the officer turned his head and saw him. Marv pointed at him.
"H-Hey man, listen. Lis-" Marvin pleaded uselessly.
But the man was beyond words, and Marvin knew it even before he spoke. The cop flew into a sudden rage and Marvin knew he had to defend himself.
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