Let the hunt begin (6), Caught

The thudding of footsteps grew louder. Jidenna could swear he felt a hot, alcoholic breath on his exposed neck, like a predator about to strike.

He held his breath, plastering himself closer to the wall.

Jidenna wanted to shut his eyes tightly, but he couldn't; without his sight, he wouldn't be as quick to react in case he was found out.

The footsteps drew closer. The kitchen door creaked open, and the footsteps ceased.

"Huh?"

"What's that smell…" the muscular man gagged.

"You know what?" he slurred. "I'm too damn drunk for this." Jidenna could see a mountain-like body leaning on the door frame.

The heavy steps moved further away, leaving behind the words, "I've started hallucinating—no, hallucinations are for the eyes. What about for the nose? Smellinating?" He giggled, stumbling to the bathroom.

Jidenna took that as his cue to leave. He sneaked out of the kitchen, closing the door behind him leaving a sliver of a gap where the gas could come out from.

but almost stumbled to the floor when he heard horrible screeching—singing that could make a deaf person hear and a hearing person become deaf.

In the toilet, the muscular man continued hollering an off-tune song.

Jidenna cringed, fastening his steps. The smell of gas had already started seeping into the room.

He twisted the doorknob confirming it was locked.

Jidenna was aware he lacked time so he got to business directly.

He grabbed the muscular man's phone and switched it off, eliminating any running app that can record evidence of his presence.

Jidenna reached his pocket, removing a small bottle of water, twisting the cap off, he poured water into the plastic cup on the wooden bedside table, then dunked the phone into it.

In the toilet, the man's singing reached a new crescendo.

'was he about to finish?' flashed through Jidenna's mind as he hastened up.

Removing the phone, making sure no water dropped on the table, from his other pocket he brought out a piece of microfiber cloth

The original owner initially used it in his hair care, when trying to avoid friction and dryness. He had torn out a little for his mission.

Microfiber doesn't leave behind any trace.

Picking up the phone he wiped it clean, removing the excess water and potential fingerprints.

'Even if am wearing gloves there's nothing bad with being extra careful'

Moving on, he kept the phone back on the edge bedside table, half of it was hanging off the table, with his gloved finger, he nudged the phone sending it tumbling down. The corner of the phone hit the ground first, followed by the cracking of the screen.

Before falling flat on the floor, its screen to the floor, quickly shifted the phone, keeping it directly under the bed stand and tilted it slightly, he wanted to make it look like the phone accidentally fell off the bedside table and slid to the bed.

'Flush'

Jidenna heard the flushing from the toilet.

'His coming out' his heart sped up, urging him to go faster.

He knew if he was caught he would be doomed.

He knocked the plastic cup off the table, spilling the water.

And without looking back, rushed out of the room, the sound had altered the drunken man.

He closed the window he had come through, behind him he heard the familiar thunderous voice spitting out slurs filled with confusion, "huh?"

"What's that? Thought I heard somethin' "

"Cursed night making me hear and see things"

 Jidenna climbed down the same way he had gotten up, double-checking his step backwards to avoid tripping and falling off. 

Throughout his journey, Jidenna had to fight against the urge to repeatedly glance over his shoulders, he took the longer way, randomly dropping off his disguise, inside people's dumpster, in the passing truck, any place he could drop it that wouldn't Trace back to him.

At last he was wearing casual clothing fit enough for nightlife.

He stopped at some bars, creating some Albies. Some time later, he stumbled his way to his door like a man back from partying– it was 2 am after all.

Slamming the door behind, he thought about his plan.

He knew he couldn't physically defeat the muscular man, and he couldn't lay his hands on poison, so he went through another route that was still as quick as poison:

Suffocation.

Precisely, through carbon monoxide.

He leaked the gas, and the muscular man was drunk. He also closed off every opening in the room, trapping it inside.

Usually, within 1–5 minutes of staying in that gas-filled room, he would die of carbon monoxide poisoning.

The cherry on top is that he is drunk, which would only make the process faster. The autopsy would reveal how he died, but with no other evidence, everything would end like that.

Everything he had done, soaking the phone in water, wiping it, cracking the screen and spilling the cup of water was for a purpose.

It was all to make it as natural and coincidental as possible. 

'A drunk man could do anything, right?' A malicious glint fluttered through his eyes.

The next day,

Jidenna walked into a bar, slid into an empty table, drew his face cap further down his face, covering it, and ordered palm wine.

While drinking, his back leaned on the chair, his legs spread apart, giving off a relaxed posture.

But on the inside, Jidenna was a mess—a nervous mess. He clutched at his cup tightly, his feet tapped the floor, and his free hand fiddled with the seams of his trousers.

This was the closest bar to his target's house. His ears perked up, listening to people's conversations.

His goal today was to confirm if Target 2 was dead.

It was an open secret that bars were one of the fastest places to learn about current events.

And just as he expected, soon enough, he heard a man heave a sigh full of heaviness.

Jidenna could not understand the emotions behind it, but it still infected him.

That drew his attention.