Thanks for the sweet reviews on my last fic :) This one is a teeny bit shorter and much darker... Tell me what you think!
It greets him each day when he wakes up in the morning; its sad, drooping eyes contrasting with its effortless smile. It watches him. A reminder. He is watching him, after all. It's one of the only constants in his life. Every morning. Every time he gets home from work. It's the last thing he sees before he falls asleep. If he falls asleep. That same expression through every day that passes; every month, every season. "Happy" would be far too simple a word to describe it, as "sad" would be too simple for how it got there. He can't stand to look at it, but he can't stop himself. And he won't remove it. He won't even try. Because the face of blood tells him why he's still alive; why he shouldn't give up on the miserable life he leads. A reminder. Staring him in the face. The blood almost looks like it's still dripping, threatening to spill down the walls. But it keeps him strong. The face is why he continues to fight a battle that seems futile after so many years. It's all he has left of them, and he'll avenge the rest. One day, he'll be the one with the blood on his hands. One day, after so many fruitless searches and dead ends and innocent souls taken before he could save them, his work will be done. He will show no mercy. And then he'll come home to it, that dreadful face, and he'll smile right back.