Drip
Hello everyone. Okay, so it's getting to be Halloween time and I felt like writing something tonight with a kind of eerie and disturbing feel to it so this is what I came up with in about twenty minutes. Based on an urban legend I read the other day. Anywho, hope you enjoy this one-shot and HAPPY HALLOWEEN! :D
P.S. I own NOTHING! :(
The drip of the water as it escapes the tap is driving him mad. If he didn't feel like something a fricken hell hound dragged in he'd somehow find a damn hammer and make the stupid thing shut the hell up. It seems like it's been going for hours...
…drip… drip… drip…
C'mon already, he's the one with a gash in his side and a fever to boot so why the hell is he also the one who is left to take of some damn, leaky faucet in the middle of the fricken night?
Where the hell is his brother? Long haired giant has been at him all night to get some damn rest so when he finally caves to the constant nagging to settle in for a snooze just to shut his brother up; to stop him and the grate of yet another lecture, the ass can't even be bothered to take two damn seconds to make it stop?
For the love of….fine… all he knows is come hell or high water he needs the sound to go away. If Sammy ain't gonna step up to the plate then he'll just do it himself.
He stumbles carefully away from his bed and shuffles his bare feet to the sink. He rubs his aching eyeballs when he comes to discover that not one single, solitary drop of water is leaking from the faucet.
And still, he can hear it.
Drip… drip… drip…
Okay, no problem. One down, one to go. He eyes the bathroom door and as he passes by his brother's bed, takes notice that it's empty. Peachy. So, Samantha decided to go for a little stroll in the middle of the night, isn't that swell. Nice. Huh, way to look out for your beat up, going insane from the all the friggin dripping big brother.
Jesus, he is gonna rip his ears off of his damn head if he doesn't get the racket of water out of there soon. He opens the door and the noise tears through his mind like a freight train. Alright, so this is the spot, this is where he will make everything better.
He reaches over and turns both taps so tight it'll take a damn wrench to get them going again. Take that bro, good luck brushing your teeth whenever you decide to grace me with your presence without any fricken water.
He smiles in the darkness briefly but as he turns to leave, his breathe hitches as another…
drip… drip… drip…
…invades his brain. That's it, he must be going crazy. Too many drugs. Too much booze. It's enough to drive him around the bend and head straight on to crazy-ville.
Time to shed a little light on the subject.
He flicks the switch on the wall of the small room and his mouth gapes open a scream like none other he has ever made before rips out from his lips, as his eyes take in and realize the source of the sound.
Drip… drip… drip…
… goes not water, but blood.
Blood.
Sam's blood…
…as it falls from his tattered body into the tub below.
The End. Thanks for stopping by!