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Crimsonby LaShawn M. Wanak
A drop of blood was hard to find, given that the cloth was a luxurious shade
of burgundy. But there it was, a glistening bead, a tiny crimson jewel that
seeped down, turning the chenille beneath it a darker hue.Forever. He said he would be with me forever.
She rose and walked to the window, peering through the diamond-shaped panes.
Soon, the dark road below will be torn apart by cop sirens, colored strobes,
and flashlights turning their beams to the lawn and the alabaster corpse
sprawled upon it. But for now she had the darkness, the silence, and the
bloodstained fabric, the spot growing less distinguishable as it dried.Soon, he promised. Soon, he will be with me.
She closed her eyes and pulled the cloth around her body, breathing in its
warm, salty scent. Once the transformation was complete, there will be no
need for clothing, or food, or anything considered normal. She will be his,
and the whole world theirs. Crimson gods, bathing themselves in a baptism of
blood. She threw back her head and laughed, a choked squawk that sounded
harsh in the silence."My love..."
His voice, deep and full, wrapped itself around her, blanketing the chill
rising within her. She turned around, her heart starting to pound in
excitement. At last...He stood on the threshold, fully clothed, face and hands scrubbed clean.
There was no sign of madness like before. He somberly regarded her,
expressionless, his face smooth and neutral as a plinth of marble. She
frowned."Darling...what--"
The silence shattered with a loud clap and she staggered, blinding pain
tearing through her head. She heard more than felt her body hitting the
floor. Redness seeped into her eyes. She wanted to speak, but the pain, oh
the pain--the floor, her body, all screaming red...
Footsteps thumping hollowly towards her. She thought her own heart was
attempting to burst from her ears. He spoke again, his words quiet. Over the
pounding, she couldn't hear what he said.He said forever...he was going to stay with me forever...
Then, another thunderous clap. Crimson fading to burgundy fading to a darker
hue of black...
TO COMMENT ON THIS STORY CLICK HERE© Wanak, 2008
LaShawn M. Wanak has published short stories, essays, poetry, and is working
on her first fantasy novel. She lives in Chicago with her husband and
3-year-old son, but is in the process of moving to Wisconsin. Her blog, the
Café in the Woods (http://tbonecafe.wordpress.com), will remain firmly
ensconced where it is.