“No shit, Sherlock.” Onin scoffed. Where else would he have came? On his wonderful carpet? Not a chance! Jackson was a good hole and everyone knows a hole always needs to be filled. Onin was simply doing his duty of filling another hole in the world. “Next time I’ll make you swallow.” He smirked. Onin moved a couple of feet away; enough to sit on a couch and take pressure off of his leg.<br/><br/>Staring down at Jackson, Onin hummed in thought. “Go shower. I’ll find you some clothes to wear.” He ordered. “I’m not going to lock you up. You need the passcode to get out, anyway.” Onin informed. Leaning back against the couch, he smiled softly. “I had to give you a bit of hope, didn’t I? Make you think you could actually escape. It gave you something to fight for.” Onin explained. Jackson could still escape if he tried hard enough. His house wasn’t impenetrable, but it was locked securely.<br/><br/>Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Onin wipes some of the blood off of the screen and proceeded to call a doctor. If he let it go for too long, he could lose too much blood and pass out. His next phone call would be to a cleaner; someone he knew and trusted to keep what happened on the down low.