Chapter Text
He had to do something. The smell of a roaring fire in the air in the old motel was starting to get to him. Snow was crippling the roadways, thus there were not many customers. It had been weeks since he'd felt the urges. Partially because no one had walked through the doors that excited his senses.
Outside he heard the approach of a vehicle. Nervously strumming his fingers against the counter he watched as a tall, good-looking man in his early forties got out. The man brushed some snow from his black trench coat and proceeded to come inside. Above the door a bell jingled.
"Wow it's a cold one out there," the man said, casually with an easy smile.
He could see that his eyes were green, dark brown hair and carried himself with confidence. Oh, those urges really screamed now. "You must be the only one out on the road today, sir."
The man shrugged broad shoulders. "Work. Listen… roads are getting really bad out there. Any rooms available for the night?"
Underneath the desk he clutched his hands. "Yes," he managed to say. "We have a room. King bed, fireplace."
"Perfect… just too bad that my wife isn't here to join me," the handsome visitor replied, flashing a charming smile. "And speaking of my wife… do you mind if I use your phone? I can't get a signal out here on my cell and I should let her know that I won't be making it back to D.C tonight."
He nodded his head and handed the old, rotary phone over the counter to the visitor. While the man made his phone call he went and retrieved a key for the room. His hands were shaking. It had been so long… weeks… but tonight… oh tonight he could give into the voices, the urges. Calming his hands, willing them to stop, he made his way back to his guest. "Here you go sir. I just need you to fill out the paper work. Was your wife upset?"
The man shook his head. "Not really," he said, glancing at him while he wrote. For a brief second he noticed that the kid's hands were shaking. "You alright?" he asked as he slid the form towards him.
"F-fine sir," he said, looking at the name on the form. "Let me show you to your room."
"Great… just let me get my bag out of my car."
He followed the man outside to the blue car, watched as he grabbed a backpack that on the back read NCIS. He wasn't sure what that stood for, at this point he didn't really care. His excitement was heightened to take much stock in it. Slowly he led the man down the long outside corridor of the motel towards the room. He put the key in, turned the lock, and opened the door. He let the guest inside the room first.
The man flipped the light on and looked around for a second before putting his bag down onto the floor. He slipped out of his heavy winter coat and hung it up on the rack by the window.
"Is everything to your likening, sir?"
"Yes. Thank you."
"Good," he said gripping the broomstick he'd snagged from the maid's cart. With one sure swing he made contact with the man's skull, just as he turned, relishing in the sound of the crack of bone, the flash of horror in his eyes, the grunt from his victim as he pitched forward and fell. "I hope you enjoy your stay, Mr. DiNozzo."