Blood (22/08/08)

He couldn't carry himself any further.

It was rare for Null to make mistakes, but when he did, they haunted him... ate him alive.

Why did he remember? Their voices... their faces...

...and the blood. From all five of them.

This was the third time he hadn't shut down, and he didn't know why. The memories were clear as day, the sounds and screams echoed in his mind and the coppery smell of all that blood was stuck with him.

Where had the normal haze dissappeared to?

Null couldn't bear to look at his hands. They would be blood red, unwashable.

It stung.

And of all places, why had this hit him here and now?

She would see him.


And she would not let this go.

"I heard a car and came to see who... what's the matter?"

She got down on her knees on the cold stone path.

It was unnecessary. She had no need to do this.

Why was she driven to do such things?

Null's senses were heightened for the moment and he could clearly smell her mild perfume in the air. It was almost unbearable for him now. And normally he would welcome the scent.

"You'll get cold, if you sit here..."

Her hand pressed against his back softly but it weighed a ton to him.
She should just go.

"Why are you wearing gloves?"

"The blood..."


Sebille knew quite a bit about convincing. She could talk him into anything and he wouldn't have the power to refuse. Why?

"I've heard that before... Your bloodied hands."
" ..."
"Is it actual blood this time or still figurative?"

Null didn't answer. He got the feeling she was testing him, perhaps teasing. His mind wasn't clear enough to make the distinction.

He felt far away from her. His mind kept returning to the scene of his crime.

"Null, please, talk to me."

She expected something of him but he couldn't give it to her. He couldn't even think what it was, right now.

"You weren't there."

"Would you have wanted me to be?"

The thought of Sebille at the scene stung even more than the images he was already fighting against.


There was a long silence and Null hadn't the faintest idea of what went through the small woman's head.

"Null... there is nothing wrong with your hands."

They were the acolytes of death. That was wrong with them.

"They're the same hands you've always had, the hands I've gotten to know. Whether bloodied or not."
" ..."

She knew what weight they carried, he carried. So, why did she bother with such unnecessary things? Words wouldn't make things right.

"There's no need to hide them."

"See. Nothing's changed."

She knew exactly what Null had meant. Why was she so casually ignoring it?

"Has it always been like this? Does what you do always get to you like this? You try to hide it but you can't... And I don't get why do you do it to yourself."

Questions. She had so many of them.
He had just as many for her, but never asked them. She couldn't answer them any more than he could answer hers.

She was clueless and it was better to keep her that way. She didn't need to know the details of what he did.

She wouldn't be so carefree, if she did.

She wouldn't be here holding his hand, if she did.

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