beLIEve

Gemini

"One of the largest mysteries in life is why people say goodbye.  What is so good about it?"

The abandoned warehouse that rested on the intersection between Parrably Avenue and Maple Street was an old structure built many years ago with the intention of storing spare parts and debree for a truck company down south.  In its youth, it stood strong and was a regular landmark for the people of the urban town.  Now, as it has aged; the rich brick polished with cream cement has crumbled and cracked, the red in the brick now distorted and revealed a rancid brown rather then a rich cardinal.  The cream that established the cement now betrayed a disturbed grey with uneven spacing where the elements had been revealed to the strong, but not indestructible, stone.  The rich chocolate shingles that lined the roof of the building collected mold and moss as time took its toll, the glue holding them together loosening as some shingles freed themselves from the roof entirely, and remained forgotten on the unpaved trails in the appalling alleyways.  The building stood approximately six floors high if you included the basement beneath the asphalt, windows lined the walls in patterned rows of four that were now boarded up with planks and vandalized with crude graffiti.  The boards that remained nailed to the windows were dented and chipped as neighborhood hoodlums attempted to enter the deserted facility on dares or simply to destroy and take anything left inside.  The building was positioned between two grand apartment buildings where the landlords wrote the the city on numerous occasions, requesting that the building be destroyed and replaced with a much more attractive tower lined with glass and steel; each claiming that the frightening composure of the twisted landmark was a disturbance to the public.  Although many agreed, the building still stood.

"HELP ME. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME."

A girl with auburn hair and fawned coffee irises shrieked in a desperate holler these words repeatedly.  The lighting was dim and only slight traces of color could be seen in the speckled perception.  The filaments that grew in auburn strands twisted about in uneven patterns; knots forming where crusted blood clung to the mass in heaps of wired nests, giving her once silky hair a damp and mangy debut.  Her eyes were bewildered and fearful, as if she were detached from her sense of sanity as the only trace of life that escaped her were her pleading shrieks for help.  For anybody to hear.  She wore a thin sun dress that was at one time a rich navy, the fabrics now discolored into a horrid mud as the garment itself was torn considerably as her upper thigh was revealed through the shreds.  On her feet she wore nothing; her small and delicate feet bare on the stoned tiles, the skin turning to rose as her tissues trembled with the cold, a collection of dirt and dust rested on the bottom of her foot.  Her heels were cut as her limbs were scarred with open lines resembling scratches.  Her lip was sliced, as though she gnawed through the tissues herself due to her distress.  Her body was pressed against a metal door frame as her fists pounded on the iron sheet, her shrieks still echoing and adding to the sound of hammering palms.  Her knuckles were streaked with a deep maroon as the upper layer of the skin of her thrashing fists peeled backwards, turning white as the tissues died as they toar away from the living flesh.  The faded slate door in which she was pounding was cultivated with her fingerprints and left with her natural ink.  Opal tears streamed down her squared jawline as the tears mixed with the clumped mascara formula that lined her eyelashes with each plea.  Her panic was answered with the twist of the spherical doorknob as the door was thrown open with a powerful force, the fear struck teen being thrown backwards as she lost her footing and toppled to her spine. 

The figure emerged from the door frame, and stalked to where the girl stood withered and at loss.  Her shriek echoed one more time before the sickening din of slashed sinews silenced the room as the eerie odor of metallic rust was left.  The figure rose, his large hands dyed with a reddened liquid that fell from his fingertips in clouded heaps; pools of the mahogany forming where the blade met its ill fated victim.  The navy blue sundress was drenched, giving it the appearance of a rich black as it clung to the girl's unmoving body frame as clothes often do when one is soaked.  Her legs were lying wide, resting in the last position they fell when they ceased their thrashing.  The right arm resting across her torso as the left lay outstretched, the blood shifting beneath her fingernails, dying them a atrocious hue.  The auburn locks that were once straightened curled as if damaged themselves.  Her once lively irises of rich chocolate were now a dim cream as her soul faded from its host....