the Emerald Cat

Crimson Night

"Even a woman who is pure, but with a heart that is breaking;
prays by the light of the full moon, and pricks her finger on a bright red rose;
at the sight of her own blood, she weeps until the rose turns to black;
When she eats it, the pain in her heart is gone;
a change has occured within her, that will take a hold of her every night;
Now her pain has been unleashed to punish those that cause such pain".

" From this night the web has spun; nowhere to run, the curse has begun".

The lights in the small town of Versailles have dimmed. There is no one else, but the lovers of a bygone age. The streets are empty; except for the "women of the night". The moon was strangely illuminated; there were no stars; just the moon; the perfect atmosphere for what is yet to come to one such lady and her lover.

Near this town lies a certain cloud that dwells as the backbone of this town. This cloud has seen many great things; until tonight. The demon's of hell have written a new chapter for this so-called cloud. This cloud takes the form of a certain chateau. This chateau once and still belongs to one of the most prominent families of all Paris and it will remain for more generations to come.

The lights in the old lodging castle have all; but one has been burned out. A certain scullery maid; a girl of such radiant beauty; no other man wouldn't have the honor of asking for her hand. The chateau remained empty; for the servants retired for the night leaving only the lonely scullery maid. The servants call her Scarlett; a name that will be famous in due time. She was preparing for a romantic evening with her lover; but there are certain rumours.

Her lover; or one of her lovers; has written to her stating.

My dearest Scarlett, I have written this letter a dozen times; but I just could not know what to say to a beautiful lady such as yourself. Thankfully I managed to compose myself long enough to write this. When I am looking at the moon; I think of your beautiful face; when I stare at the stars; I think of those sparkly eyes of yours, and how they sparkle in the moonlight. Do you recall the fateful night we met? and how you look so beautiful in that bleu gown. I shall come to you at a quarter to eleven. I do know; that you will be looking at the old clock; counting down until the time we meet. By tomorrow we will be free; From this, and from the people that would faint of shock about the mere thought about us

Yours forever and always Philip.

The news excited Scarlett; it was so exciting she couldn't keep her composer. She did what her lover predicted; she looked at the clock, the clock chimed 2/3rd of an hour and 10 minutes before the exact time. That time had left her rushing to get everything ready; including herself. She dressed herself in a white evening gown; the gown was made by a friend who did her own hair, makeup, and other details. She was the only young lady in this forsaken place that would do anything to make herself; or somebody else look good.

She waited in the sitting room; the clock chimed a quarter to eleven; right on time, but poor Philip never showed. She had waited, and waited, but still no sign of her lover. She thought that something terrible might have happened to him; but she eventually calmed down. She had finally decided to call him; she hurried to a nearby telephone; she thought that he was probably caught by his family trying to sneak out; but there was no answer.

She went back to the sitting room; she poured herself a glass of wine to calm her nerves, but no matter what she did to calm herself she could not stop the feeling of being watched. She lit a candelabra; and started wandering around the house thinking that might calm herself. After minutes of mindless wandering about; she came across a painting in the grand gallery. She stared at one painting particularly; because she was told that this particular painting is special for a reason; a reason that has been buried for 300 years.