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❛THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH❜
CHRIS WALKED INTO HIS APARTMENT, stuffing the key dangling from his neck back down his Capitol Theater polo. He tossed the t-shirt he was wearing during the day into a basket of laundry waiting to be done and went to walk to his room. Though, as he went to walk past the living room, his father walked out and stopped in front of him, startling Chris.
"You're home early," his father grumbled, a cold can of beer in his hand. Chris took a deep breath, biting his lip as he thought up a lie.
"The manager had too many people working so he sent me home... sorry, Dad," Chris looked down to his shoes, trying to show his dad he was sincerely sorry-- though, he really fucking wasn't. Especially because of the blood-covered hand held behind his back.
"Look at me, Christopher," his father demanded. Chris raised his head, staring his father in the eyes to avoid being shouted at. His father grabbed his face, his grip firm but not painful. "What have I told you 'bout apologising?"
"Th-- That a man should never have to apologise for something... 'cause he's never in the wrong..." Chris was disgusted by his own words, but desperate to tend to his wounds.
"Good boy," his father pet his fluffy hair, retreating into the living room to channel surf in the dark. Chris rushed to the bathroom, walking down the long hallway and pushing open the door.
He froze however when it was coated floor to ceiling in crimson liquid, the smell indicating it was most certainly blood. A hand grabbed his arm, the soft grip being familiar to Chris.
Beverly tugged Chris silently into her room, pushing him to sit down on her bed before silently shutting the door.
"Beverly what the fu--" Chris whisper shouted.
"You saw the blood?" she asked hopefully.
"Yeah I saw the fucking blood, it was everywhere!"
"Shh!" Beverly hissed, sitting down next to him on her bed. "Dad couldn't see it. I thought I was crazy."
"Lee... what the fuck happened in there?" Chris asked in a much calmer tone. Beverly hesitated but eventually spoke solemnly.
"There were... voices... in the sink. I know that sounds ridiculous but--"
"Trust me, it's not ridiculous," Chris whispered to her. Beverly looked into his eyes, acknowledging the understanding in them.
"Y-- You heard voices too?" He nodded, pausing for a moment.
"And also this happened," he lifted his right hand. Beverly gasped.
"Oh my God, Toto!" she stood from her bed and pulled open one of her drawers, ruffling through until she reached a box of white Band-Aids. The actual bandages were in the bathroom cabinet, but there was no way either of them was volunteering to go in there.
