The sink was stained a red as the dried blood slowly crumbled off his fingers and nails and down the drainpipe. But some of it still remained- no amount of water would wash the blood clean from his hands, for the deed would always remain- he was a murderer, and that was the reality. Alistair had locked the bathroom door- he didn't want any unwanted visitors- not at the moment, at least. He hadn't been injured in the fray- and they may have begun to find fingerprints on the knife he'd left behind, which means he'd have to hurry. Getting the signs away from him would be difficult, but it wasn't as though the young boy hadn't duped REQUIEM before. He just needed…there was no way to change the evidence. Alistair was a genius, that much was true- but he was a human, and one without magic, at that. There was only so much he could do.
He simply had to divert the attention off this crime onto something else. But what? Ahh, he shouldn't be thinking about this in the dead of night. Maia could wake up at any moment- and there it was, the rapid banging at the bathroom door. Maia was a Metal Elementalist, so she could unscrew the door from it's hinges if it came to that. With a sigh, Alistair pressed his blood-encrusted palms onto the door handle. Luckily the blood was dry- so it didn't leave a mark. The door itself was made of oak, so it was a dusty brown colour. When it swung on it's hinge it creaked gently- a testament to the fact they needed to get the place fixed up.
Drops of water fell onto his head. A leaky tile, he presumed. Not important right now- he'd better get the door open. Switching on the showerhead, he twisted the handle , allowing the door to be pushed open- leaping back into the bathtub and pulling the curtains shut.
As the door was pushed open, Maia's eyes almost instantly dropped to the floor.
"I could've sworn I- anyway, get back to whatever you were doing-" Waving her hands frantically, she shut the door in a hurry. Alistair waited until he could hear her footsteps heading up the stairs until he stepped out from the shower and turned the water off.
She was important to him- but he couldn't let her find out what he was doing. Because then, if REQUIEM did, they'd accuse her of harbouring a criminal and then….he didn't want to know what next. Execution or a life in prison- probably the former for housing the country's most ruthless cold-blooded murderer. He was killing innocents- a crime that could not be explained with reason.
Sucking in a breath, the boy shook his head. This was no time to be doubting himself- he had a reason. Everyone in this city was murdering and lying scum and his murder was justified- they just couldn't see it because they were all blind. He just had to push through and persevere. If he made an enemy of God himself so be it. He wasn't afraid of angels, God or the Devil himself. He'd take whatever deity this hellhole of a world threw at him to reach his goal.
Now wasn't the time to be doubting his actions- he was already in too deep and sinking fast. Pulling the towel over his head, he supposed he should genuinely shower- his body stank of sweat and blood anyway, and even he- despite being coated in that scent a lot of the time- knew how bad it smelled- besides, it may arouse suspicions anyway.
After showering, he quickly dried himself off- scurrying up the steps quickly to avoid being noticed. Ahh..where was the geography homework he'd completed a few days back that his teacher had hammered on about? Gods, if he had lost it…
He spent a couple of minutes turning the room upside down. He may be a murderer, but he was also a schoolchild- and the teachers seemed to have it out for him. Understandably, his mouth always seemed to move at the worst of times- making fools out of teachers and students alike- and if there was one thing the teachers despised, it was that.
Leaning back against the bed frame, the boy stared into the darkness. It was the him of tomorrow's problem, anyway. His eyes shut gently, as he drifted off into the sweet confines of sleep's gentle embrace.