Set it up: Hot water, drain plugged, white ceramic tub holding it all together.
Tall man, drop the towel. View pans up, seeing nothing but the back of his head.
He steps forwards, slipping into the tub. From his left hand, just out of view, a momentary flash of silver. The water's warm, steam's rising up off of the surface of the bath. The Man has a calm, almost serene expression on his face as he closes his eyes.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Steady your hand.
Again a flash of silver, a blade at his neck, right at the outer jugular. Sink in deeper, make sure it's nice and warm. One swipe and it's open. Blood flows out, staining the water.
His face twitches for a moment, slight pain, and that one moment where he wonders what he's just done, asking himself why he did it, that one part of his mind screaming "FIND HELP" as loud as it possibly can before it's suppressed. There's no going back now.
He leans deeper into the water, his eyes snapping open, looking over at something on the wall.
Three minutes till midnight, on the clock. Three minutes to make one last flippant quip, to shed a bit of wisdom onto the recorder you left, or to give one last prayer to whatever you believe in for forgiveness and deliverance.
Still silent. He breathes out, relaxing, and blood comes out again. One minute, fifty seconds left. He's unconscious.
Shift view. Small bar, lights still on but the chairs are all stacked on top of the tables, and there's the Barkeep, walking around, sweeping up under the tables. The door opens; in walks the Man from before, an odd scar at his neck. The Barkeep nods, heading over to the bar, sitting down on a stool behind it. The Man replicates the movement almost exactly.
"Long night?" the Barkeep asks, and the Man nods. He opens his mouth, about to say something, then stops himself, shaking his head. Not much different than usual. Just another long, hard night.
"Another fight?" Yep. "Your dad doing any better?" Nope. "Gonna get that promotion at work?" Not anymore. The Barkeep sighs, shaking his head with a rueful smile. "The usual?"
Oh, ###### yes. The Man leans forwards, resting against the bar, as his eyes flick to the clock. One minute left. The barkeep sets down a small mixed drink, only double the size of what you'd get in a shot glass, but packed with more alcohol than most anything else in there. It takes a special kind of man to drink this drink.
The Man sips at it slowly, lost in thought, still looking at the clock. Fifteen seconds left, he finishes it, setting it down. The Barkeep looks at him, again with that same rueful smile.
"No regrets?" Nope. "Anything you gonna say before you head out?" The Man stops for a moment, then points to the glass.
"Some things weren't meant for mortal man to taste," he says, his rich tone ringing out. "I'll see you later, got it?" Barkeep nods, the Man walks out the door.
Cut the lights. In the background, an electric clock.
Edited by Grochi ad Infinitum, Mar 14 2015 - 03:46 PM.