In an inn not far from the scene of the incident, Liam stumbled forward in a drunken haze as he tried to slot his keys into the lock of his rented room's door. His clothes were crumpled with visible blood handprints streaking across the front. Smaller, muddy prints tore into the back of his shirt in frantic and haphazard formation. The metal of the key collided against its mate's frame, missing its goal repeatedly until its holder finally plunged them together into a perfect union.