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Bleed Well ( PG 13 )

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Bleed Well ( PG 13 )

Postby Cierra » June 1st, 2009, 11:48 pm

Rated PG for violence and Gore

Stagnant ambience accompanied the young boy as he laid in the darkness, gracing his ears with the quiet sound of the humming ventilation system. The ambience's sweet but unmelodic music gave the boy the knowledge that life was still in his veins, and the heart within his petite chest continued to beat. Ambience was the boy's friend; it was always there to embrace him and gently sing him to sleep when he felt lonely. Ambience loved the boy as its child, and would sing simply for his pleasure.

Light suddenly invaded the room, slightly perturbing ambience, but ambience tolerated it, as it posed no threat to the boy. Playful as it was, light tickled the boy's eyes, giggling as it danced on top of the boy's eyelids, peeling them back until he opened them himself. He found himself staring at the ceiling with blurry vision, but it was a plain white surface, as were all the other walls in the room; he was uninterested.

His hazel eyes could see again after several moments, and he looked down upon himself. He was completely bare, save for his black shorts that fit tightly against his body. All seemed to be normal. However, as he laid his head back down, he heard breathing: calm, peaceful breathing. His eyes reopened with a flash, nervousness washing over him.

He craned his neck to the left to see who was in the room with him, tiny heart beginning to race and breathing starting to quicken. His nervous eyes looked up, and he found himself looking upon a familiar face; once he recognized the girl, he began to relax, and the amount of adrenaline in his blood began to thin. The boy was wonderfully surprised to find her here, if not joyful.

Her face was slender with red, rosy cheeks, and her soft blue eyes gently looked upon the boy as he laid on the metal table, meekly looking up at her face. The girl's arms hung toward the center of her waist where her white paper gown stretched over her legs, and she clasped her hands together, continuing to stare at the pale-skinned boy laying apine in front of her. With gladness, the boy's pallid lips curved into a smile, a warm and comforting, but sickly smile, and peered at the girl's face. His eyes curved upward as his cheeks pulled themselves to the side. He slowly opened his mouth to speak, and mustered a weak "Hi."

Her eyes looked into his, and she peered upon his face. She suddenly felt inclined to reply, and returned with another "Hi." Her voice was not as weak as the boy's however, but she replied to his friendly greeting all the same. She noticed his face light up with happiness after she said hello, and his lighthearted emotion radiated upon her. Now all she wanted to do was smile back, and she did, kindly beaming to him. She stood staring at him for a few minutes, but then her face abruptly became straight again, and she opened her mouth to speak. Blue eyes inadvertently looking to the right, she stopped before she could say anything. Her eyes returned to his, and her lips sealed themselves again.

The girl's lips subconsciously parted however, and her voice shrank to become hushed.

"Um..." she began. The boy's smile became a plain expression, and his reticent voice said,

"What's wrong?"

"Ahm..." replied the girl, nervously swinging her hips and arms back and forth. She pretentiously darted her eyes left and right; her breathing become quick. She continued to worriedly stutter, her face turning slightly pale. She stopped swinging herself, and suddenly hardened her resolve. Her face was overcome with intent, yet without anger, and she dropped her arms to the side, tensing them, and balling her hands into fists. The girl bent down, and picked up an enormous knife from the gray tiled floor, the reflection of her face in the shimmering steel.

The girl flipped the knife around and grasped the black metal handle so that it pointed downward, and she moved herself closer to the boy. To her surprise, the boy was unfazed and hardly frightened, despite his straight face. She was right next to him now, wielding the knife in her hand; she raised the knife several inches higher and her face softened, as if she was disturbed, but she continued without stopping. She looked at his chest, to his face, back to his chest, then slowly closed her eyes, shielding them from light. She took a deep breath in from her nose, holding it in for several seconds, and then thrust her arm downward with such incredible force toward the boy's chest. The tip of the knife landed upon the flesh right above the heart, and it pricked the skin, pushing downward. The girl opened her eyes once she felt the tool breaking through, and she watched her wrist brutally shake as her hand continued to push the knife further into the boy's chest.

The boy's eyes grew wide open, wider than they had ever been in his whole little life, and his mouth flew open, screaming. His neck arched backward in agony, his eyes looking toward the back wall, and he continued to shriek in pure torment. He snapped his head forward and watched the knife in sheer horror, plunging deeper and deeper into his punctured skin, drawing dark, crimson blood from the burning wound. The blood pooled onto his chest as it was forcefully squeezed out, and it lazily rolled down the side of his body onto the metal table where it collected into more small puddles. The girl watched the blood pouring like wine from a bottle, yet impelled the knife into his body even further. To her surprise, the boy continued screaming, and he could still breathe; but then she saw the massive amount of blood continuing to pour from his chest and onto the table, and could not find the strength to go on.

The girl's head suddenly drooped downward as if it became one hundred pounds, and she released the grasp on the knife. She fell to her knees, cheeks raised and eyes squinted. Tears rolled down her face as she started to cry, grasping the side of the metal table where the blood resevoir was, ensanguining her fingertips. She choked, pushing more tears from her eyes, and grabbed the knife's handle as it remained stuck within the boy's chest. Lamentingly, she unsheathed the knife from its flesh cover, revealing the blade to be stained a deep burgundy. Yanking the knife away from the boy, she let go of it and allowed it to fall to the linoleum floor, with a somber "cling." The boy had stopped yelling, and studied the girl as she quietly broke down.

She rested on her thigh, feet under her body, and her small hands clenched into fists. Her fingertips were still covered in blood, and it languidly slid down her soft hands and into her palms. She began swiping tears away from her face to replace them with blood from her fingers, uncaring of the fluid she was embezzeling on her cheeks. She choked again and sobbed, allowing a salty mixture of murky tears and blood to roll from her face and onto the floor. She opened her eyes once more, and gloomily held her hands in front of her face, observing them with a bleak expression; taking in the pure imagery of the gore on her hands. In frustration, she pressed them against her face and wept.

The boy rolled over in the puddle of his blood on the table and watched the girl snivel. His face was calm however, and he smiled once again.

"Don't cry."

The girl looked up from her mourning toward the voice, her beautiful blue eyes flooded with tears.

"I don't want to hurt you," she replied. "...And I did."

"No you didn't," said the boy, attempting to reassure her. "Look." He reached his frail arm from the wet table to the bloodstained knife on the floor, grabbing the end of the blade and pulling it up toward him. He took the handle and flipped the knife to the side, exposing the dirtied side of the blade. He put it up to his face and licked the blood off of the knife, lapping his fluids and swallowing without thinking about it; he flipped it over to the other side and slurped up the blood, wrapping his tongue around the edges, which made a small incision in his tongue. He painfully winced, but continued to lick the blade until it was clean. "No blood."

"But... Will you be okay?" she asked him minutes later.

"Mm-hm. Don't worry, I'll be fine," the boy replied with a happy grin.


The boy clumsily rolled back to his place on the table, amidst the blood. He peacefully rested his head and closed his eyes, bringing a deep breath into his lungs, past his bloodied teeth and torn tongue. Blood and saliva rolled into the back of his throat, and he released his breath, the mixture bubbling in his mouth. A rumbling from within his stomach softly emnated, and he opened his eyes, looking down at the ripples passing up his body. He smiled and closed his eyes once again, chest expanding like a large balloon. Within an instant, his chest violently exploded, spraying his fluids onto the ceiling and exposing his naked organs, several ribs shattered and jaggedly pointing toward the vast puddle above. The girl did not notice, as she continued to somberly stare at the ground, yet between his healthy pink lungs, his heart, torn apart in two pieces, was safely nestled beneath the upper rib cage. The pieces laid quietly, without sound or movement, truly dead. However, as the boy started to smile, the smaller piece began to jerk and twitch. Within moments, the larger piece mirrored its brother's actions, and the heart began to seperately move on its own, beginning to beat once again. Soon, it began to pump itself despite its severed state of being; lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub.

"I'll be fine," said the boy once more. "I'll be fine."

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