Michael did not interrupt. He took a spot near the chair closest to the door. It was nothing new to him. The thrill of blood was in the air, the adrenaline from the killer mixed with the fear pulsing from the man and it had intoxicated Michael to no end but his anger conquered all no matter how much he enjoyed it. One leg laid crossed the knee of the other. He leaned back in the chair, hands comfortable on his lap and fingers locked together. The man was desperately fighting, urging for the person in the room to help him but there would be no help. Michael wasted no time helping the victims who were so easy to get themselves caught in situations just because someone had a pretty face, perfect figure, money or even drugs were at play. If such temptations took them, then death was willing to have them. He sighed and leaned in view. The snap caused Michael to grunt. At least that part sent something through his body; a longing of pleasure that lasted for a split second. He loved the sound of cracking bones. Michael rose from the chair now. This bloodied covered woman had a history with doing these things. She knew her targets, yes, that was a skill and she had easily got away with disposing of her victims but Cortez would be a perfect place for that when you had a serial killer names James March who was famous for disposing bodies and never getting caught. Perhaps, he taught her a thing or two. "Cut the crap," he waved his hand as if he was severing her sentence. "You want to explain yourself before I lose my f***ing temper? I have been eliminating these pathetic souls for the last month and you've been piling them up. Cortez is not your graveyard." he paused hearing the guy that was just killed standing by the bed and looking down at his body. "I'm dead. Holy sh*t!" he turned his gaze to the woman. "You f***ing killed me. You bitch you f***ing killed me!" the man stormed over to her but flames took him from feet to the last strand of hair on his head. Screams echoed the room proving that Michael had lost his temper when he was constantly trying to tame it. "I hate being interrupted. Fix this sh*t and get dressed," he ordered her. "Meet me down at the bar. I need to have a conference with all of you since you feel your part of Cortez now. I really should just kill you." but part of him knew maybe she would be of use. Maybe. It was her chance to prove. He gave everyone that opportunity. Michael turned away to exit the room. Some of the ghost-like Sally was peeking inside and laughing at the mess that the female made. She too had taken a fond liking toward Michael. "At least he didn't make you change the mattress," she said to the killer. "You should put his body in one for me. The next person that sleeps in that bed will have a surprise. Sh*t smells."
Michael had been to Cortez plenty of times. One would suggest it was a spot that he favored but there was a reason for his constant visits. The Devil was cleaning the place, these pulses or hell holes as some would call; of ghost and the tragic to rightfully choose who deserved to be free of their prison and who deserved to be imprisoned forever. It was the last round if Michael had to identify it. The pathetic ones were the first to go. It was never pretty. When Michael demonstrated his reasons for being here the first time to the curious ghost, many of them isolated themselves and deserted into hiding in order to stay clear from the menace prowling the halls. There was not one door in Cortez that Michael could not get pass no matter how far they ran; each hall was the same and he was waiting at the end of them. He sat at the bar staring the bartender down. Liz knew the routine. He came, she ordered him a few drinks and they would discuss business before he interviewed the next spirit. Liz would get her turn and so would Tristen but he knew that the sweet goddess was trying to stay on his good side by allowing the drinks to be on the house. Michael swallowed the shot and pinched his lips tight. Liz was glancing, suspiciously with slight concern. He knew that face. "What is it, Liz? No, it's not your turn if that's what you're worried about." "No--well yes it is but that is not my concern tonight." She huffed placing the bottle down. "There's been this girl who has been coming to Cortez and making a mess. We have made this new rule a few years back that we would do no more killing. Now we have some random girl thinking she can come here and kill. She's leaving more dead than good and I know how you're trying to clean out the place. Sounds to me--that's more work for you." Michael listened closely. /His eyes staring near the stairs. "What room is she in?" Liz obliged to share the room regardless of the rules, and Michael soon was hurrying through the same haunting halls. He made a quick turn, coming up to the door where he forced it open without touching the knob. He saw the blood. He could smell it. The man and the naked girl that he was searching for. Anger flooded his face. Michael crossed his arms over his chest examining the young woman. "Go ahead, finish him. Then we're going to have a f***in' talk."