*For today's flash piece, I've decided to take a short story broken into three parts and post a part each Friday starting today. Here is part one.*
I blinked and stared at my hands. My right fingers curled around the knife’s handle.
The blade glistened as another fat drop splashed on the floor.
What had happened?
Crimson streaks splattered the white walls like an over-enthused three year old with a paint brush. I followed the scattered spots to the body in the room’s center.
Grayish flesh dotted the red-coated corpse. A metallic scent swirled around me. I swallowed and gagged the wretched, sour taste of bile. The knife clattered to the tiled floor as I pressed against my knees.
Why was this happening...again?
I screamed, my soul pouring out the vileness of what I have done, while I tumbled to the floor. My knees cracked against it, causing me to shriek in pain. With ragged breaths, I crawled toward my newest victim. Maybe she was still alive.
Wide, pale blue eyes stared at me when I turned her head. Her mouth was slack, lips pouty. Blood dyed her hair. It could’ve been blond, or red. Maybe a light brown. I couldn’t tell.
I yelled again, pounding my fists upon the floor. Liquid sprayed upon me. Tears trickled warm along my cheeks. I choked and coughed before collapsing beside her.
“I’m sorry, so sorry.” I murmured, stroking her hair.
I didn’t know her, or didn’t think I did.
My head hurt, my heart. I struggled to sit. The blood congealed on my arm hair. I felt sticky, like I’d rolled in strawberry jam. I needed a shower and to find Mike. He’d make everything better.
I left her there. Beautiful, dead, and soon to be an erased memory.