The Game of Crimson Rivers [On Hold]

The Game of Crimson Rivers

I lay motionless as my blood started to mix in with crystal clear water that now flowed around my still body, turning it a light shade of pink. I looked back up towards the dawning sky, such a lovely color, a mix between reds, blues, and oranges. I quieted my breathing to the point where all I could hear was the echoed secrets of the trees as they whispered, their soft words carrying on the breeze. The cool autumn wind chilled the hot sensation of the blood as it streamed from the various large cuts on my body.

I was ready to accept what was to come. I had known when this day would come, the day when Death would open the door and welcome me into his home with his friendly and gentle embrace. But the one thing i didn't know, was who would do the deed, the deed of murder. As I lay here with my dying breaths, thinking upon my unknown murderer, I realized that my murderer was the last person I expected in the world. I now centered my gaze above, the moon was shining overhead with all her grace, wisdom, and beauty. I then noticed a single star, larger than the others, shine brightly, then fall from the darkened horizon. From the corner of my eye, I saw another fall, just after mine.

Visions and memories started to flash in my mind. I could see images from my childhood; I was such a sweet and innocent child, playing around with my father as my mother sat on the porch of our two-story flat. The pale-blue paint had slightly chipped over the years; my older sister leaning on the paper-white railing. Then came the memories from the month before now, all the horrific and gruesome scenes played before my eyes. Things I didn't want to see or remember anymore.

I felt tears sting the wounds on my cheeks. I didn't want to die now. I don't want Death to welcome me. I want him to slam the door in my face. I want. . . Revenge.

'I wanna kill the person who made my life a living hell,' I though to myself as my vision flickered on and off like a lightbulb about to blow a fuse. 'I want to feel their blood on my hands,' I said to myself as my eyes drifted closed and I saw a I tiny spark that soon turned itself into a dim white light. I refused the light and turned away. I'm going to stay in the shadows.

Up above, a new star took place of the first star that fell. It gleamed and pulsed, radiating a sinful red that snuffed out the white and blue stars that seemed to only be dwindling by a thread instead of being fixed to its midnight blue mantle.

A new dawn has come forth; its innocent colors splayed and buried under the colors of murder, hatred, treachery, and revenge.

I'm coming for you. . . .