Resolution

The morning sun was cruel. It sliced through the small window of the bathroom, illuminating the carnage.

The large mirror over the sinks was shattered. A spiderweb of cracks radiated from the center, leaving a gaping hole where the glass had fallen away.

There was blood on the floor. It mixed with the water, creating swirling patterns of red and grey.

A figure stood by the sink.

He picked a piece of glass out of his cheek. The wound didn't bleed; it closed almost instantly, the skin knitting together with unnatural speed.

He looked at his reflection in the remaining shard of the mirror.

He smiled. It was a perfect smile. Symmetrical. Charming.

"Much better," he whispered.

He turned and walked out of the bathroom. He moved with a fluid grace, his footsteps silent on the damp carpet.

He entered Room 304. He didn't look at the mess. He began to pack. He folded the clothes with precise, geometric folds. He threw the thesis notes into the trash without a second glance.

He picked up the phone from the floor. The screen was cracked.

He unlocked it.

He opened the camera app and flipped it to selfie mode.

On the screen, the background was the dorm room. But the face looking back...

The face in the phone was screaming. It was pounding on the inside of the screen glass, eyes wide with terror, mouth open in a silent plea for help. It looked exhausted, anxious, and very, very human.

The boy holding the phone watched the little trapped figure for a moment, his expression bored.

"Quiet down," he murmured. "You wanted to be seen. Now you can watch forever."

He put the phone in his pocket, silencing the silent scream.

He picked up his bag and walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open. He walked down the hallway, down the stairs, and pushed open the heavy doors of Acheron Dormitory.

The summer heat hit him, but he didn't sweat. He walked into the sunlight, ready to consume a world that was finally, deliciously solid.