Crimson (Prequel; Divinity Crisis Triology)

Chapter Three: THE ONE IN ASH

It was the worst night of his life, a night planned to be peaceful, a sort romantic, and it did begin that way, and onward it went sour.

It became a dreadful night that remained stamped in his heart, in his thoughts never to be forgotten.

A lovely third year anniversary it was, it was programmed with foreknowledge, maybe to recreate the charm, the thrill and love of the first date.

There was flowers and love shaped balloons, soft scented candles beam and mild music blew with the wind, and the aura was sweet and soft, like gentle fragrance, blending with the little rush of summer breeze.

Two black chairs faced together and a glass table amidst, a nicely prepared sweet-scented meal with a beautiful, an elegant bottle of red wine was before them.

Cherry was really beautiful in her red dress, her short fine gown, it was thin round her shoulders and fell to end above her knees.

She too wore a fragrance, tender and enticing, hers made shine her dress, as the candles made bright the night and her eyes brighter still.

It was like the very first night, and he just couldn't take his eyes off her, her beauty, her lips, her gentle and tender smile, her skin, glowing and calling his attention like a solemn beacon.

But what started as a romantic eve, ended up being his worst nightmare.

It was the night he thought he had lost the three people closest to him, his family, the ones he lived to protect, the ones he loved so dearly, his sister, Bianca, sweet and young and ever meek, his best friend Paul, brave and strong, and his lover, Cherry, gentle and having a gentle allure.

Paul laid softly on the grass, blood flowing out the sides of his stomach rapidly, he forced himself to breath but it was like the air had turned its back on him.

His torso was torn open and he needed immediate assistance. He had gone against many all on his own, and they made him pay.

He needed help lest he dies in pain and suffering.

Cherry was fine, she was unconscious with bruises spread around her body. She could just lay there for a minute, while he answered to the more pressing situation... his sister, being dragged off into the night, and not to a better life (he supposed), they were monsters, they were street lords, men angry at the freedom of their slaves, which Paul and Jerold ensured.

What more would a young girl mean to them than an object of gratification, a slave... a puppet.

He would die a thousand times than to let that be what becomes of his little sister.

It all happened so fast.

One minute they were alone drinking and enjoying the view of the lovely night, exchanging a lover's glance, and feasting on the joy of the night.

Paul and Bianca on the rooftop, taking a closer look at the crescent moon. Paul held her like the sister he never had, he loved her, they both loved her, they both cherish her, she was their family, she was with them through the casting out and abandonment, and they with her too.

And tightly in the arms of peace and bliss, little did they know what lurked in the shadows within.

And the next minutes, fell chaos and bloodshed.

Men attacked from all sides, it was as if they had gathered together with the sole aim of paying the mansion an unfriendly visit.

They were keen, they were tireless, they were ready.

They were cruel.

He had two choices, ignore the cry of his sister, her screams, her plea for help, and tend to his best friend's dying situation.