Crimson

Chapter Six

“Higgins, pass these around,” Mr. Lane says holding the folder up. “Sean, there are a few documents that I would like for you to go over.”

“What kind of documents?” I ask as Higgs finally gets to me. He gives me a stack of pictures. I begin flipping through them. I look around and notice that everyone has copies of the same pictures. I don’t really examine the pictures closely since I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Crimson is still alive.

“You will see, Sean,” Higgs says calmly.

I tense up pausing at the twelfth picture. It shows Crimson in a headlock. The arm around her neck has the same tattoo as the guy in the picture that Toni and Trinity had but this arm smaller and paler. They are in some type of warehouse. It looks as though a lion clawed at his arm though. Crimson’s nails are embedded in the guy’s arm and I can see the dark skinned girl running at the man with a gun in her hand, a .44 magnum to be exact. Does she really use that thing? This is what you do Crimson? What happened to your concert?

I put the picture back in the pile and keep flipping through trying to push the scene to some far corner of my mind. Crimson was carrying a gun in one of the other pictures, a Berretta M9. My father liked guns so I remember a few things about them from what he told me before he died. Of course Crimson would have it suited to her. The gun is a metallic red with a black grip.

Still flipping through pictures, I see one with Crimson in a red two-piece bathing suit happily throwing water at the girl who had the .44 magnum. I smile at the photograph. What the hell was the photographer thinking? What would it have looked like for him to be taking the pictures of two high school girls?

Another picture gets my attention. It’s the last one in the stack. The picture is taken from a weird angle as though the photographer is elevated and hidden. The picture is really clear though. Crimson and the girl that Toni, Trinity, and Sam have been talking about are standing next to a woman sitting behind a desk she is tied to the chair. There is blood on the side of her face and her eyes are wide with fear. I almost gasp when I realize why. Crimson and that girl are both holding guns pointed to her head. The girl has that same .44 magnum while Crimson has her red M9. Crimson’s expression is cold, colder than any expression I have ever seen her make. She has the contact in one eye again though not even the blue eye gives any hint as to what she is thinking. The other girl’s expression is almost scary. She’s having fun doing this. She’s laughing.  

I can’t look at this anymore. I put the picture underneath the others and line my lips on my index finger to cover my mouth. I hear gasps fill the room meaning everyone else must have gotten to the last picture. I see that Sam isn’t surprised at all. Instead, she looks a little angry.

“Oh my God,” Marc says. “Crimson, you’re not like this.”

I’m more surprised than you, Marc. She couldn’t have killed anyone. Crimson is the nicest, most kind-hearted girl on the planet. There is no way she could do that. That’s what I think, but it’s hard for even me to believe after seeing the look on Crimson’s face. It looks like this type of thing comes naturally to her.

“So she killed this woman…” I say. I pull the picture from the bottom of the pile and point it at Mr. Lane without looking at it.

“No, she did not kill her. The woman is not dead.”

“Why did they do this to her?” Marc asks.

“I’m not sure. The person who took these pictures died shortly after sending them to me,” Mr. Lane says turning to me. “He also sent the documents that I will give you later, Sean.”