| >> |
06/02/11(Thu)10:01 No.26471823>>26471796
Spike cried aloud as he scraped the blade up towards his elbow. It was swifter and smoother than what he had expected. His eyelids were clenched, tears spilling from the edges, running down his bare, scale-less cheeks. He felt a warm sensation trickle along the side of his left arm as what was once inside began to pool around it. Panting slowly, Spike tried to open his eyes. The ordeal left him with an overwhelming shock to his system; he felt light and numb all over - his ignorance was not kept long, though. As his eyes fell upon the deep, open wound every muscle in his body contorted. His arm shot white hot and the pain spread through to his brain. The was the blood rushing out from the open passage and off the ledger onto the wooden floor. His tears flooded his face and his whimpers had turned to ecstatic pants. He tried to form words, any words, he didn't even know why, but they came out as desperate, confused moans and mewls. His head was above the clouds - he felt as if he were on stilts, swaying unsteadily, ready to fall. Without thinking, he brought up the razor again and plowed it through his arm in the same way. This time, though, it was grating; the muscles in his arm seizing up around the blade, causing him to jolt, sticking it in further, clashing with the bone. As this happened, all of his nerves exploded and Spike's knees bucked, giving out, pushing him forward, his arm still on the table flipping him onto his back. His head hit the floor with a crack and a thud and his small body splashed into the pool of blood beneath him. The pain was unbearable - his face was growing paler and his tears were running in a stream of lament. The razor still stuck out of the open wound, the blood rushing out faster than before, his cries scraping up from his lungs harsher now, but making a more pathetic utterance, even more so than the babyish sounds he made beforehand. |
