A/N: One of the darkest pieces I've written.
Do enjoy.
—
Blood.
It was everywhere.
In her veins, in her arteries, her capillaries...
Her heart.
His shirt, his ripped shorts, sewn tight at the seams.
In those blond locks that glimmered in the sunlight, that cloak that concealed his ostentatious clothing.
Everywhere.
"It's raining, Oz."
"So it is."
"I'm glad it's raining."
"Why is that?"
"All this dust can be washed away!"
She means the blood, spattered delicately on the cloak, on her scythe, the one that materialized without her permission.
That warmth in his chest is vaguely familiar.
Could it be friendship or something more?
Maybe he thinks of her as a little sister.
There. He's gone and upset himself.
In the rain, he sheds silent tears.
She dances around in the rain, throwing off her cloak and leaning back on her heels.
He smiles.
Alice.
She turns towards him, feeling her name being called mentally.
Remember what I told you?
She nods cautiously.
Go ahead then.
She walks up to him and looks up into his face.
"I wouldn't kill you in a million years, manservant."
The blood spatters in his face, spraying from the girl in front of him.
But I would.
Oz smiles wistfully.
If only she had no blood. If she could live without spilling the warm red liquid.
She coughs, releasing some of it onto her hand.
"I hate your guts. You shouldn't be alive. Neither should I."
Oh?
"Yes."
Then I'll kill us both.
"Go ahead."
He slits her throat and then his own with that wretched scythe, and falls into the darkness.
Darker than black and deeper than red.
Blood.