Bloody Mess.

interesting chapter title

"That's blood, isn't it?"
Blood covered John's shirt front and stained his sleeves. Splatters speckled his face and stained his blonde hair. He was drenched in the stuff, bright red and fresh as if it just oozed out. It wasn't John's blood, at least, since the sheer amount couldn't have been from a human. He looked down at his hands and then up at Matthew, whose brows knit together.

"No?"

Matthew rubbed his temples. The iron smell was heavy in the air, almost disorienting the blind man, whose enhanced senses made him hyper-aware of John's blatant lie. Constantine of course, kept his cool composure, despite his current condition: pantsless, soaked in blood, standing in the lawyer's bathtub as the ooze pooled at the bottom of the porcelain and was thick enough to cover his bare feet.

It took a minute before Murdock could even contemplate what he was going to say, before settling on an annoyed groan.

"That's... not a question you answer with another question, John." Matthew sighed, resting a hand on the sink counter. His question was seasoned with just enough exhaustion that it came out like a statement. "Why.... is blood all over my bathroom?"

John took his time answering that. He licked his lips and tried to feign confidence.

"I was just about to take a shower, and then this. Must be the plumbing." John sniffed, placing his bloody hands on his hips, leaving obvious handprints on whatever white was left on his shirt. "You should really talk to your landlord about this."

Unfortunately, John almost told the truth. He really was intending to hop into the shower once he'd finished his cigarette and shit routine. He just didn't expect blood to come from the toilet as he flushed, or blood to drip from the tap when he washed his hands. Blood from his hands covered almost every surface in the bathroom, a visual struggle with how frantically John tried to stop the blood from overflowing. His pants were left abandoned on the floor in front of the tub, absolutely soaked. It looked like a murder occurred in that small space.

John offered the blind man a half-assed smile, but Murdock's face contorted with the pain of how what-the-fuck the situation was.

"I'll clean it up," John reassured the man, who lifted his loafers from the bathroom tile. His shoes struggled with the stickiness of dried blood clots. The sounds it made as he struggled to pull his feet up from the tile made the lawyer nauseated.

"Really, it's probably a one-off thing. Some bleach and scrubbing will clean it right up."

Matthew looked ready to become sick but dared not to get closer to the bathroom. He'd rather vomit on the floor than try to get near the mess in the toilet bowl. Previous experiences prepared John to expect weird shit to happen, but they've only been acquainted for a few months now. Magic and demons and... this... was still very new and macabre to the vigilante. Based on how green the lawyer was, it was doubtful he'd ever get used to things like this happening.

"Probably just need to... set some wards or something..." John's words trailed off. Matthew had already turned and stepped out of the bathroom, bracing himself on the wall just outside the bathroom. His eyes were closed and he was ready to vomit. After an awkward moment of tense silence, Matthew cringed before speaking.

"Clean... everything up. Before I get back from work." Matthew stepped out of his shoes and kicked them into the bathroom mess. "And you're buying me new shoes, John." Murdock slammed the door, causing John to flinch slightly.

That turned out better than the occultist thought it would, at least. He looked down at the blood coagulating on his toes, curdling like bad milk left out for too long. No place better to start than there, right? He turned on the tap and let the shower head rain down cold, normal water, and let the blood seep down the drain.