TW: Murder, Blood, Suggesting Blood, Suggesting Murder, Weapons, Broken Glass, Mentions of Being Insane/Crazy, Mentions of Being Locked Up.
AU: ???
Ship: None
Third Person POV
The drip, drip, drip of blood quietly falling onto the shattered glass reminded him of rain. Splashing around in puddles, letting the world fade into nothing but the feeling of cold water in his shoes, his hair wet against his forehead.
That's all blood really was, anyway, just red stained water. Red stain water that meant life or death. It was an interesting concept. With no red stained water at all, someone couldn't live. But when most people saw it, they were scared. Or worried. But he, he wasn't scared. He was happy.
Happy, because this marked a new milestone in his life, something he would remember forever. He never intended to kill his best friend. He had just been so annoying, you know? The nagging, the yelling, gosh. Nobody could stand it, he was doing them a favor when he plunged the kitchen knife into his friend's stomach.
And it was simple, really. All he had to do was lure him into his bedroom, before cornering him and getting rid of what they all defined as burdening. But did they?
Back to red stained water. It was so fascinating to him, to see it trickle down the side of sharp objects that once impaled someone. It wasn't something you got to see every day, so why not treasure the feeling of happiness you get when someone else is in pain? That just means that you aren't.
Every time, he sat and watched the red stained water make it's way down the side of the weapon, caressing the cold metal with it's prickling touch. In it's wake, the cool silvery shine turned red, and it took it's path down with it.
Nobody understood how much blood meant to him. It meant life, it meant that something important was now reduced to a lifeless body, all in his own hands. They would think he was insane if they knew it was him. They would think he needed to be locked up. Or worse, punished.
Of course, he had no problem with death. He was waiting for the day his eyes would close and never again open, waiting for when the birds would stop singing and the light would fade. He just didn't want to do it himself, and he didn't want to ask. So he would wait for his demise, and would pass the time by watching the red stained water that meant danger to others simply exist.
You might be thinking, who is he exactly? Well, nobody ever really knew, not even himself. He always said that the day he knew who he was would be the day that his breath stopped. He said that life really had no meaning because we all die in the end, so why waste time trying to figure yourself out when it won't make a difference for anyone?
Quickly as his own red stained water poured from the wound he'd been longing for so long, he said his final words to me.
"You know, I finally get who I am now. I'm a pawn. A distraction meant to keep your eyes away from the rest of us. You would never think that until you see your life flash before your eyes, right. Anyway, lights out." As his pale body fell on the floor and the red stained water surrounded him, I finally understood what made it so fascinating.
We understood what made it so fascinating.
Word Count: 602 including this
