Broken Pieces

Midnight

A splatter of blood on the railing caught the light from the gibbous moon. Stepping over shards of glass, he moved closer, smelling the rain that would be coming soon. Or maybe snow. It was hard to tell at this time of year. The blood looked inky black, shining wetly. He reached out a bony hand to touch it, but the moonlight washed all colors away, leaving him looking even more skeletal than normal. He snatched his hand back and glanced around quickly, hoping he was still well enough hidden in the dappled shadows.

"Relax, that's going to take more than just a band-aid to fix." The voice rasped and slithered out of the darkness, finger dipping into the moon-chilled blood.

"Don't," he hissed, causing the hand to pause halfway to a wicked smile.

The smile stretched thin over sharp fangs. "Or what?"

"It's... It's my mouth, too," he mumbled, attempting to wipe the blood off, but he wasn't strong enough to budge the bony hand.

"Fair enough."

He sighed with relief, feeling that he was alone again. He quickly scrubbed his finger clean. He thought about getting real gloves, instead of the fingerless ones he loved. Having a protector was wonderful, but sometimes it was just confusing having to share space with the darkness inside his own head.

He was a protector, too. Some people didn't even know they needed protecting, but everyone needed a friend. He was good at that now. He peered inside the window, making his eyes focus past his own gastly reflection. Inside, the sink was running and drips of bright red blood faded to pink as the water chased them down the drain. A towel dangled off the counter, patched and dotted with more reds and pinks.

He glanced back at the mess around the deck, glass and wood and blood. He could clean it up. That would be very helpful. He probably could finish in a flash if he had a broom. He turned and stared at the bits and pieces, trying to figure out where to start.

"Zyggy, why are we still here?"

He sighed, his solitude once again broken. "We're helping."

"Are we a cleaning service now?"

"No, but it's a big mess. Cleaning would help."

"And lead to a lot more questions. Who did it? Am I being watched? Those are questions we should avoid."

His shoulders slumped. DZ was right. He was usually right. It was annoying but it did help.

"They need help," Zyggy said, moving bits of glass with his boot.

"Lots of people do. What makes this so special? Sticking around here is stupid."

He shrugged, knowing it wasn't a good enough answer. He knew this was important, but explaining how or why would take too many words and words were hard.

"Demeter doesn't like freelancing," DZ said.

"I know, but this is important."

"So we're chasing down another one of your hunches?"

Zyggy nodded. "I had a dream like this, once."

"You don't dream since you stopped sleeping."

"I haven't slept since I met you."

The fanged smile was gentler now. "Fine. Let's see how this plays out."