A/N: for Kamu-San.
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Tapered
It drizzled slowly down his arm, running in thin rivers to his elbow, then dripping into a small red puddle at his feet.
He ran the sharp object, a blade stolen from one of Tohru's razors, across the flesh once more, and the liquid continued to spill. He stared through the dark, searching blindly for any spy that may have been watching him.
There was no one.
He was alone.
His eyes, as red as his tainted blood, were then cast downward, toward the task at hand.
Another swift cut, another wound that would begin to scar.
He lifted his head, searching.. searching.
But there was no one.
He was alone.
His arm continued to ooze, the small rivers crashing together, making large oceans of ever-flowing blood.
He bit his lip, running the blade across his abused tissue once more.
Then reached to his left, grabbing the gauze he'd made sure to remember. He wrapped the wound, pulled down his sleeves, stood, then took one moment to glance around the room.
There was no one.
He closed the door quietly, leaving the small pool he had created in the shadows.
He'd be back later.
He would clean the mess then.
