Blood dripping dropping drooping

I made one interesting idea when I was having lunch with my brother, but it would certainly be more gruesome than any nice, white snow. The lamp would just be a simple, upside down conical shape, with spikes coming up from the bottom that followed the shape to the top and rose a little above the lip of the opening. When the light was off, it would be a plain, constant white. When the light was on, however, paper from behind would create a shadow of blood and reaching figures around the spikes. Red paper would probably make for the best effect in this case, but I'm not sure if it would be too strong and pierce through the white even when the light was off.. time for testing! But anyways, I just wrote this beginning to a short story for English and felt like it echoed that idea of clean appearances and horrific realities.

One long, endless sound sat in the air, piercing through the bustle that continued under it.

“I’ve been dreaming about chicken all day, Robert. Baked, fried, cashew, you name it and I’m in.”

The lights of dozens of monitors draped a blanket of sickly green upon the pure, white coats of the conversing men.

“Terry, I could eat anything right now but I had better get it soon.”

A tiny splashing noise emerged in the background, inconstant as the footsteps that created it.

“How about that new bistro down the street? I heard that the chocolate cake there is to die for.”

There was more splashing to the other side of the room, and the beep cut off mid-scream.

“I don’t think little 305-7520 here would have appreciated that particular maxim.”

Still the splashing continued until another short beep penetrated the new silence and awakened a choking, sucking noise below.

“Or maybe he took it too literally. Those 300 levels aren’t exactly the brightest bunch.”

Steadily the blood drained away, leaving only small spots on the impeccable, water-resistant floor for the nurses to clean up.

“Well now there’s one less anyways. Lee, please get him out of here before the next patient comes in. We don’t want another blockage in the delivery lines.”

A small, meek creature dyed in red nodded a little too furiously and ran over to the table, slipping a little as it went.

“Look at what they send us. It’s positively disgraceful, and every time we request new help they simply ignore us like we are the 300s. If those wolves would only put us on 100 duty every now and then, I’m quite certain we would receive considerably better support.”

His hands shook as he pulled the once white material quickly across the constantly dribbling opening.

“Yes, yes, but you know the rules. Three months on 300 for every doctor. No questions. At least we can –.”

A single, horrifying cry impaled his words, and the room went completely black.

“Fuck.”

The more ideas I consider, the more lamps I draw, the more I can narrow down to something fantastic... Now let the blood pour down.