In the end, I did not get a bed to sleep on. The only empty rooms had yet to be cleaned up after ridding them of their dead previous owners. Leaving the only clean room being the guy who had died barely hours before.
It felt wrong watching the boys strip his room bare, packing his possessions into a cardboard box. It should have been a morbid affair. Instead, they joked about the teammate they nicknamed runt since he was not only the youngest but skinny and short. Boys could be so cruel to those closest to them in the spirit of comradery.
We were on the top floor, where I guessed either rich kids or staff had lived before everything ended. It was like an apartment, with a kitchenette and living space with a hallway leading to six bedrooms and two practically identical bathrooms.
Inside the room, the boys had changed the bedding of the small double bed and wiped almost every inch clean. Removing all traces of their fallen companion.
