Blood (End Credits)
The first thing he realized was that this blow was a lot more pure than he'd anticipated. A shock of energized blood shot through his skull, buzzing behind his eyes and through his numbed sinuses like electricity as his heart fluttered in a fit of atrial fibrillation. His teeth, his palette, all the way down his throat felt cold and numb, quickly losing any sensation whatsoever. His pupils were dilated to enormous proportions, and the lights and colours of the room seemed hyperbolic and sharpened to the extreme. Something warm and wet dripped onto his forearm: he looked down and saw fat drops of blood dripping from his face.
He grabbed the mirror he'd been using and held it up, examining his reflection. His hands were shaking so much that he worried he might drop it, but he liked the way he looked in his coke-smudged reflection. Blood was gushing from his nostrils, pouring down his lips and chin like thick red wine. He grinned, enjoying the way his white teeth cut a jagged smile through the red, not unlike his mask.
So much blood. The buzzing high in his brain and heart - now hammering against his ribs like it was trying to leap from his chest - made him feel like he could spill a thousand gallons more. His, someone else's, he didn't care. He felt unstoppable.
Still grinning, Madder Red jabbed his fingers into the mess and smeared the red, red blood across his face like a clown's smile. More blood continued to pour from his nose, dripping down his chin, staining his shirt. It dribbled onto his extended arm, onto the floor, onto his grinning white teeth until they were strained red and it was all he could taste.
"Damn," he giggled, watching his reflection as the blood coagulated red-black on his upper lip and continued to flow in thick rivulets around his mouth, feeling his stiff cock straining the seam of his tight leather trousers. "What a trip."