Chapter 10

• Victor entered his room; he was met with a scene of utter disarray. His belongings were scattered haphazardly across the floor, as if a tornado had swept through, leaving chaos in its wake. A wet towel lay draped across his bed, its soggy presence an affront to his sense of order. With a flick of his wrist, Victor picked up the offending towel, holding it between two fingers as if it might contaminate him.
• He strode towards the bathroom, shedding his clothes as he went, his movements economical and precise. But as he stepped into the bathroom, his foot skidded on a patch of slippery liquid, sending him stumbling. His hand shot out, grasping the sink with a vice-like grip, preventing him from crashing to the floor.
• "Little Smith," he muttered, his voice low and even, but with a hint of irritation.