Short stories

1

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE, SELF HARM, DEATH, BLOOD, DRUGS AND ALCOHOL. PLEASE DON'T READ THIS IF YOU'RE TRIGGERED BY ANY OF THESE⚠️

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Blood dripped down off my neon switch-blade, hitting the floor in rhythmic drops almost like a miniature drum. The body in front of me buckled and fell to the floor. Crimson liquid poured out of their neck, chest and eyes. Speaking of eyes, I opened my other hand to reveal the smooth, blood drenched eyes of my victim. Pale green-gray irises stared inquisitively at me. I shuddered and pocketed them.

Somewhere in the dark void of the night, sirens sounded like wolf's howling, crying at the moon. I knew I had to dispose of the corpse before my captors came and collected me. A thought hit me and a wave of unease washed over me like a gust of wind or a truck as you absent-mindedly step into the road, oblivious to the oncoming vehicle. I've been on the run for too long, it was getting tiring. If I succumbed to the whispers in my head, it could end. All of it could just stop. No more running, no more hiding, no more sirens. I weighed my options. I could run, hide and hope I can shake the police off my tail, or I could plunge the beautiful blade into my blood soaked chest, right through the heart and crumple like all the others. All fifteen of them. The second option sounded the best but then again, that could be the heroin talking. Or the vodka. You can never be sure. My darker side always comes out when I'm high. It tells me I should slice at my skin, peel the skin off my body, stab at my heart, my lungs, my eyes and just end it all. I never listen though but now, as the wolf like screams come closer, I feel like it's a good idea.

I test the waters by making a fairly large slit along my bare arm. The sensation is new but feels so nice. It's like I'm floating. Next I cut at my neck, then my other arm, then my chest then finally, as everything starts to go numb, I plunge the knife into my heart, a smile on my face, my eyes wide open. I want the police to see me and feel uneasy, scared even. I pull the knife out and admire how beautiful my blood looks. It's a nice colour. Not scarlet, not crimson but somewhere in between.

The sirens are a lot closer, two minutes away I should think. I just stand there, my head getting lighter by the second, blood flowing out like a stream. I can hear car doors opening and a voice. There's a voice shouting. I think they want me to do something. I can't hear them let alone move to face them. Footsteps, the footsteps of a police officer fill my ears. There's a hand on my shoulder, the other one probably holding handcuffs.

"Right, you're coming with us again. Now!"

I try to shake my head but instead I collapse. I breathe one more breath, the smile still present on my face, then I move on.