He slammed his room door shut.

His lungs were screaming out for a simple breath of air. He wasn't one to run home, but today was the day that changed. He quickly walked over to his desk and ripped out his drawer. He quickly grabbed the scalp that was inside it. His breathing hiked as a large grin plastered his lips.

His breathing slowly became laughing as he pressed the metal tool horizontally along his wrist. His small laughs became louder and more ominous as he dragged the tool into his skin and down. Blood spilled out quickly. His eyes lit up.

There is was.

The blood.

The beautiful blood.

His laughter came out as if he had killed a man. His eyes were large in excitement. "IT'S BEAUTIFUL!" He screamed. He almost fell to ground as he watched it fall like rain drops. He quickly made another slit, and another. "IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL!" He cried as he backed himself into his wall.

He slid down as he stared. His mouth was open. He wanted to taste it. Taste it he did. He ran his pink tongue across the three bloody red cuts. He pulled his muscle in as if he was some kind of animal. Which he was.

What kind of human would do such a thing as this?

None.

He was an animal.

The irony taste made his tastebuds burst with flavor. He screamed in satisfaction, "BEAUTY TASTE SO MAGNIFICENT!" He was enjoying this much more then he had intended to. He grinned evilly as he stood up using only his feet. It was as if he had springs in his legs.

He quickly grabbed the scalp which he had dropped earlier from his excitement. He looked down and saw the first cuts blood clotting the line. "No!" He growled and tore open the cut once more.  He did it to the other two as well.

He needed more though.

He needed more of this beautiful sight.

He brought the sharp edge up to his neck. The large vein inside his skin was begging him to split it open. He laughed at himself. He laughed before he pulled away and swayed across the floor to his bathroom. Once inside he resumed what he was doing earlier. He placed the knife to the vein. He pulled down hard.

It had already begun.

He leaned over the sink to see the blood gushing out of his neck. He coughed and he hacked. The blood was filling his lungs. He couldn't scream about the beauty in front of him. He used his hands to rub the colored liquid against the mirror. He tried his best to resist the urge to breath.

The way the perfect color smeared made his veins pulse. He coughed and began to choke. He was watching himself choke to his death. The blood was taking away his sense of pain.

He wanted to laugh, but couldn't. He backed himself into the wall and grinned before he couldn't breathe anymore. His body went still. It slowly slid down the wall leaving a bloody trail on it.

Blood.

His weakness.

Blood.

His love.

Blood.

His killer.