As I sat there, the only things clouding my mind…was for one blood. And how it was much too easy to lose, to really do any me good. It was either staining my clothes when I did my job, or rather…the area around the victim. Why could people even hold so much blood in their bodies? It was enough to make you shudder…but oddly enough, blood didn’t bother me, the way it might bother somebody in another profession.
I mean perhaps if I were a librarian and not a cold hearted killer, then blood would put more of a drag on my day. I was virtually unaffected by the blood shed of other people…but that’s just the thing, I myself was not used to bleeding, since I had become so good at my own job.
Now here I sat…in a puddle of the blood, from the man that I had just been doing in. But the other thing was…I was clutching onto my own arm, unable to move from the fear that had managed to force itself into me. I was bleeding…and the guy had gotten a pretty good slash in, what with that knife I had been too stupid not to see in his pocket.
I sat there for a few more seconds, seeming to look through the still warm and colored corpse that lay just feet away from me. The sound of a garbage can falling over somewhere in the city’s alleyways, spooked me into jumping up. Still wearing that helmet, though now my leather jacket was all cut up. I made sure to bend down and pick up my sleeve…luckily I hadn’t dripped any of my own blood on the ground.
That’s just what I needed, to go and get tracked by a few droplets of spilt blood. I shook my head, the helmet starting to feel stuffy, and it was also making it harder to breath. I didn’t feel the pain in my arm, but I saw that blood…and ran off, boots splashing in puddles that the storm from the night before had left behind. Slipping once or twice, just from the nerves that had started to build in my body.
I found my bike more quickly than I usually did, perhaps I really was just a mess…but that didn’t matter now. All that mattered now, was getting home…getting this clothes somewhere hidden, so I could repair them. And to feed my German Shepard Artemis…and go on living a happy normal life. Cause of course y’know, living on your own at the age of seventeen in New York City, is always a great bundle of fun.
Once I pulled into my garage, it felt like my heart might ease its quickened beating. There…it wasn’t all that bad, just a gash in the side of my arm. Don’t worry; I managed to pry the knife out of the bleeder’s hands, before I left. I’m not stupid…I don’t leave evidence, after all.
There was a rush to get changed into a pair of jeans, and a t-shirt…well after I found some peroxide and bandages, to take care of my arm. That was…better, and the wound wasn’t bleeding through, so I must have done a decent job of compressing it.
There was a pounding of paws on the ground, and I nearly jumped out of my skin, as soon as I finished tugging my t-shirt over my head, finding myself staring down at my three year old German Shepard, Artemis.
“Jeez, Artemis.” I grumbled, clamping I hand over my mouth, and letting out a shaky breath. “You scared me half out of my skin…” I muttered, as I sighed quietly, turning and closing the medicine cabinet.
My shoulders still held a slight tremor to them, and I just sighed. “What’s a little blood for a job well done?” I muttered mostly to myself, as I watched the large dog cock his head to the side.
“Don’t look at me like that Artemis…” I grumbled quietly, as I groaned and held a hand to my forehead, which was starting to throb. Just earning a bark from the wolf-like dog, who spun in a circle and then bound off towards the kitchen.
I merely rolled her eyes, and rubbed my sore temples slightly, before I ran off to where the dog had gone. Fishing around in the fridge until I found a can of mountain dew, and cracking the top. Shutting the fridge with her foot, I grabbed a bag of chex mix from the closet. That was my meal after every job…in my case, it helped to calm my nerves.
Sometimes just feeling normal for a while…calms my nerves.