Bathroom. A freaking bathroom.

Devon's eyes twitched sporadically as he stomped down, once more, on the enraged janitor's spine, hearing the bone chip and crack once more. Yet...the man underneath him wouldn't stop spitting, foaming, and yelling incoherent curse words; Devon was almost completely sure that this middle-aged man had Tourettes in his past life. Regardless, annoyed by the screaming, Devon finally grabbed the closest thing to him - a toilet plunger - and promptly slammed the rubbery end on the man's head.

It did nothing.

"Are you kidding me?" The hooded young man scowled, abruptly kicking the enraged man in the side, the powerful, yet lazy kick sending it's body flying against the dirty urinals nearby. Apparently he hadn't done a nice job. The kick and impact had finally broken the man's spine, however, so that was a good thing. He felt nothing from the kill; he had, after all, done some pretty similar things in his line of work.

Whistling a low, ominous tune, Devon exited the bathroom, his hood and baseball cap shading his face from view.