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Blood.

 

The smell. So sour yet sweet. So strong and vivid.

 

Blood.

 

The feeling. Thick like a gel, yet still with the same fluidity like water.

 

Blood .

 

So much blood.

 

Thick and vibrant and sticky. Hard to clean, traces always present.

 

What was it about the thick liquid that made his skin crawl? That it made his hands shake, made his breath catch, made him break out into a cold sweat?

 

What was it about blood that made him feel so alive?

 

Maybe he was thinking about the blood too much, and not about where the blood came from.

 

Yes, maybe that’s what it was that kept him going.

 

The body.

 

So fascinating, so delicate and fragile, so desperate to keep oneself alive.

 

Body and blood. Blood and body.

 

So interesting, the way the human body worked. How even in the worse of times, it tries so hard to repair itself, to keep itself functioning.

 

Like this last body, healing all too soon; fresh cuts turning into scabs, cells regenerating all too quickly. He was getting so frustrated, he decided that it was maybe best to let it go.

 

And let go, he did.