It's white. It's whiter than white. It's the definition of achromia; it's so blank. It burns his fingers like a flame, lights his nostrils alight when he smells it. It made him cough due to the pungency — smells of bleach and broken dreams. He thinks he can sense the scent of rust and decides that it is not clean yet.
He dips his hands into the bleach to continue cleansing, his hands sore and raw, begging for mercy, his eyes and nose stinging from the fumes. It's whiter than fresh paper, whiter than an angel's dress, but it is not white enough. He can still see the red on it and he can still smell the crimson fluid. His skin? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the shirt.
Clean wasn't good enough. He could still get a whiff of Alfred. His eyes flooded with the tears he couldn't stop.
I am not a murderer.
He scrubbed and he scrubbed and he scrubbed some more. His hands weren't clean. His hands would never be clean again. He could still see blood. It was all over him, all under his fingernails. These hands could never be the same.
I do not murder people.
He dipped his arms in, let it sting the flesh, burn the open wound on his arm like the flames of hell. 'You are unforgivable,' it said. He carved it there, and exposing it to the chemicals was his punishment for what he had done that day to the man he loved more than anything, more than anyone.
I do not kill people.
His house was so clean, the carpet was shining. He had done everything, taken every measure to make sure it was spotless. Yet, there too, he could still see red. Alfred wouldn't leave his mind. He had to remind his killer that he was a horrible person, after all.
I do not kill.
He looked at his hands. Horrible, red, burning, pruny, injured, bloody. That was all he could see. Seeing blood dripping from his hands, hearing Alfred gasping out dying words, nose filling with the smell of rust.
I do kill.
I kill.
I kill. I kill. I kill.
Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill
Everything was clean. So unbelievably clean. His hands, his clothes, his house: all were cleaner than a hospital. There was nothing left to disinfect.
But still, it was not clean enough.