Be warned, this one is a bit dark. It just kind of happened. Bear with me. If you can’t handle some blood, turn back now.
Blood dripped on the floor, a disgusting sound to him at that moment. He knew it was his own, and he couldn’t be sure of where exactly it was dripping from.
Every few seconds there was another one. The tiny sound that seemed to echo through the dark room in which he was being kept. That sounds that meant that he was wounded worse than what he was able to feel, his body so numb to pain now that without the ability to look down at himself, he was unsure if he may even have any limbs left.
He was sure he must still have his legs. How else would he still be standing? And he thought he could feel his arms. Maybe they had taken his fingers. Or a few toes, perhaps? Maybe all of them. Maybe his hands were gone.
He wished there was enough light to check, any light at all, but there was none. Not even the miniscule light from under a doorway that might help his eyes adjust. Only complete darkness.
With a fleeting thought, he wondered if anyone would come to find him, if anyone had even noticed he was missing at all. Maybe they had. But it was more likely that they hadn’t. He had pushed so many people away from him over the years that no one would miss him if he was gone for good. They would probably celebrate.
There was the dripping again. The constant sound, that reminder that he would probably die soon. Every drip a memory of something he had done wrong, something he had done to hurt those he loved.
And with every drip, he felt the evil slipping away. The thing that had possessed him, the thing that had driven him to hurt those he loved, it was leaving with every drop of blood that left his body.
His death would be the only thing that would save them, and it was his death that he was witnessing, blindly, but hearing ever so clearly. It was his death that he realized he was welcoming. In his death, they would finally be safe again. He could no longer hurt them.
He smiled, listening to the steady beating of blood on the floor, enjoying the rhythm of it as he felt his eyes close.