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Crimson
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2024-10-29 19:42:56At the flash of lightning, his mouth opened, “Before we begin, I ask you this. How does crimson taste like?”
“Uhh, bitter?”
“Exactly. I remember clearly the day when I had my first blood. But no blood was tastier than burning blood exhausted from the pursuit. It is when the richness of it reaches its peak.”
“How did you tame it?”
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“Good morning Crimson Stone,” a man in tight, grayish white suit sternly looked at the screen of our flat TV, “Six months have passed, but the police have found no leads to the untimely death of two boys a few months ago.” The camera panned to the sharply dressed woman, “Another incident happened at the small town of Crimson Stone during the week. The residents feared of a possible crazy man on the loose or worse, another Tyrone Netherwell incident.”
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I spent the whole day with Rosie. Why didn’t I realize this? Her amber eyes saw through my soul. Her fair complexion caressed my face like a feeble child. The warmth she emitted resonated with mine. Was this how true love felt like? When the light of the sun pulled away from us, I bit my lip with downcast eyes. My urges wanted to come out, but I must refrain—it’s not yet the right time. Then she swung her hips on mine. We haven’t drunk anything, but a wild goose sat on my lap.
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“So much for a quiet life, I suppose,” my eyes dropped to the ground. Taps of the pen sounded like the ticking seconds of time. Sheets of paper rustled plentifully as leaves on the branches. Rosie’s controlled heartbeats pricked my ears. There was nothing for me to do but witness her words.
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I gazed upon the glinting brass metal on the table. The light of fire burning from its place showed me the way towards the exit. Dad circled the table’s edges as his stare fixed on the dusty floor. His shuffling leather shoes picked up some specs. Beads formed on my forehead, damping the metal’s rusty surface. A slur of curses were spoken by the beast transforming below me. He ran out of the door and stormed ahead of my sight. The old women didn’t react.
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Repetitive rows of trees ran up the path. Blue sky with a moderate amount of cotton stretched endlessly. The lake shimmered like crystals as fish flew on the surface, reaching for the sky. Some wild creatures drank peacefully or basked over the clear blue. A familiar wooden house shaded by thick trees struck my eyes. No lights nor fire occupied the cozy place. I haven’t seen her for a while. Where could she be? An hour before sundown, we arrived at our destination.
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I peered over the stairs as dad reached for the door. “Oh, hello there, neighbor!” a smartly dressed man in green had a plate of pastries in hand. “Mmm, they smell delicious. Are these for me?”
