Final Moments

He watched his own blood drift down the walls in thick, sloping arcs.

It seeped from his neck; flowing slower with each passing heartbeat.

He searched for his attacker but found only empty space.

Who would do this? He would never know.


Who dunnit?

Come join the newest craze over at Yeah Write: The Gargleblaster!

53 thoughts on “Final Moments

  1. Ack! A violent death is bad enough, but not knowing who did it?? That’s just cruel. 🙂 Great gargleblaster, Arden – thanks for linking it up!

  2. I’ve never thought of blood as being able to drift, but your sloping arcs of blood are a striking visual – very nice!

  3. I’m thinking he did it. He’s an artist and going all Jackson Pollock but with his blood. It’s his Magnum Opus, his fait accompli extrema. He’s painting his soul onto the wall so it can never be removed. Oooh, (kinda good lead into a story) take it and run with it Arden. 🙂

  4. That’s infuriating! I would want to know, so I could come back and haunt the murderer…

    1. Haha – You’re right. That was creepy 🙂 But I totally agree so at least we’re creepy together!

  5. Awesomely creepy! Love the slopping arcs of blood. I would hate not knowing who did it. You have a real knack for writing disturbing scenes – and I mean that in the nicest possible way. 🙂


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