A little blood never hurt anybody
(alastor's name in this one-shot is alan)
Alan's inner demon: bold
Alan: italic
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Alan gasped, dropping the knife on the ground with a loud clattered.
Looking up to his much darker counter part he cried out.
"Oh, no, oh, no! What have I done?! What did you make me do?!"
His counter part chuckled, watching Alan panic.
"V- valentino's dead! He's dead!"
His counter part rounded behind him, placing a clawed hand onto his shoulder.
"Relax, alan. It's nothing we can't handle! I'd say we made the world a better place! Nobody would miss a bastered like valentino."
He spoke confidently, sneering down at the corpse on the ground.
Alan ran his hand threw his hair, his monocle hanging loosely off his shoulder.
"You don't think we're gonna get away with this do you?"
His counter part laughed stepping over the body facing him.
"Oh, come on alan. Its not like anybody cared enough to look for him, right?"
His counter part frowned, leaning on his clawed hand as he gazed down at the body.
Seems a downright shame.
Alan tilted his head up facing him.
"Shame?"
His counter part turned away from him.
Seems an awful waste.
Turning back to the body he flipped it on his back.
Such a nice filled out frame whats-his-name has. "Had". Has! Nor it can't be traced.
Alan tilted his head looking at the body in discomfort.
Business needs a lift
Debts to be erased.
His counter part lifted up the bloody knife.
Think of it as... Thrift
As a gift!
If you get my drift...
Alan frowned confused looking up at his counter part.
"Huh?"
His counter part continued, moving towards the window, looking out of it.
Seems an awful waste,
I mean,
With the price of meat
What is it
When you get it
If you get it...
Alan gasped, covering his mouth.
His counter part smiled.
Good You got it!
His counter part gestured out the window.
Take for instance mrs. Berry and mr. Berry with their sweet shop.
Alan watched as his counter part continued on.
Business falling cause They only use fruits and toast,
Now an Apple's good for maybe six or seven at the most.
Alan fiddled with his fingers as he listened.
And I'm sure they can't compare to as far as taste goes
Alan pulled sharply at his hair, his breath sharp and ragged.
Little voice,
