Bloodied Revenge

Raccoon sat on the back of the toilet, his feet on the bowl, the stall door ajar and waited. Dim voices from the hall getting louder, the bathroom door opened, and in came the loud, brash words.

“What a sissy,”

“What a wuss”

Raccoon waited, heard the urinal flush, listened the taps running, listened to their laughter.

He coughed. They heard and wondered. One came to the stall, asked who was there, and then pushed in the stall door softly.

Raccoon kicked at the door, it swung and hit something hard. Gurgled cries, frantic footsteps. Blood dripped to the floor.


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