Bloody Rose

Chapter One

"Fathers done it to you, hasn't he?"

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"Yes..."

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"Perhaps it won't be as bad as you think, little moon..."

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"And if he is?"

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"Little moon...the breed may be cold, but they are also gentlemen darling..."

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"Answer... the question..."

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"Diana...little moon I-"

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"Answer... the... question..."

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"I... I don't know..."

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"Good night... Selene..."

With a click, the woman places her phone on a side table, looking into the streets of Manhattan from a castle of glass. Her gray, empty eyes peering down at the city so far below, a sigh escaping her lips as she reached for a pack of Cuban cigars. A single tear rolling from her cheek onto her pale hand, with feminine grace, she places it between her wine red lips. With a flick of a lighter, she takes a long drag. The bitter sweet smoke intertwined with brilliant white hair.

With a quick turn, she strides to the balcony. Her heels tapped against the wooden floor of her chambers. Sliding open the glass door, she's hit with a gentle breeze. She places a shaky hand on the railing, looking to the ground several stories below.

Cars and traffic rushing by, city lights guiding pedestrians, and the occasional gunshot, followed by sirens ringing through her ears. Flashing signs of models on billboards, showing beauty as life's great success. Banking ads about the wonders of money. Thousands of citizens making their way home to their families for dinner.

"They'll....never understand..."

The woman mumbles herself silently, fumbling with her cigar. Looking back and forth between the ground and the sky. The view below looks so very... welcoming...

"...so...easy..."

She pushes her body against the railing and leans over, peering down... one move...and she would no longer deal with them anymore...

"Daughter."

A man's voice echoes, the tone monotone and serious, yet there is a hint of hatred. She turns around quickly, falling out of her trance. Her body shakes a little bit.

"Yes Father?"

She questions as she brings her gray eyes to meet his, her motions filled with hesitancy. His gray eyes peer into hers, so cold and void.

"Come." His order is stern but calm yet ominous. She nods her head slowly, wanting so badly to break eye contact.

"Yes...Father..." with a nod, her father turns and begins walking away, expecting for her to follow. She does so, reluctantly. A sigh escaped her lips as she placed her cigar in an ashtray, heels tapping against the hard floor. Upon hearing her sigh, the man glanced back with a firm glare. A glare that speaks a thousand stories of a disappointment. Her eyes drop to the floor as her arms cross over her chest, her body tensing up, seeing this, the man mumbles silent curses as his head turns away.

Through corridors they walk, the young woman looking out the countless windows at the city below. The walls are well decorated, flaunting modern wealth. The floors decorated with polished black and white diamond checkered tiles, the walls are lined with polished marble. Pedestals displaying marble head sculptures, replicas of those in Rome and Greece. A floating staircase wrapping gracefully around a flowering crystal chandelier. Heels clicking against stairs as they ascend higher and higher.