Crimson Infinity

Premonition

God decides our destiny, right?

The sound of footsteps echoed throughout the blood-stained hallway. Doors were left ajar from the earlier state of panic, and corpses of soldiers littered the surrounding area. Wherever you looked, the sight of death remained. There were bullet shells scattered all over the floor, and holes along the walls highlighted the points of impact. There was a sort of solace from the sight of death, at least. Had it not been for the soldiers' sacrifices, then the bodies of students would've been what littered the building.

The girl stopped in her tracks as she turned a corner, momentarily taking a moment to brush a strand of her platinum-colored hair from her face. She took a deep breath as she began to walk; the door at the end of the hallway was where she needed to be. She saw a flash of light coming from the cracks of the door followed by a loud bang.

It looks like I'm just in time. She reached for the knob and, without wasting another moment, twisted it open.

"I've gotta say, you've got guts boy." A burly man with a mohawk gloated as he pulled his large sword out from the ground. As he stood fully, the sight of the man was a sight to behold. He probably stood a head taller than most other people, and the weapon he was holding was definitely no laughing matter. It had a long, black handle as the sword was meant to be held with both hands, though the man with a mohawk was capable of doing with just a single one. The entirety of the blade's body leading up from the black guard was colored in a deep shade of red, akin to that of fresh blood.

His opponent, on the other hand, was laughable at best. It was clear that he was merely a teenager, a college student at best. He was panting, and it was clear to see that he was severely wounded. His polo, which was once white, was now stained in blood, that of his own. There seemed to be more dripping down from his limp left arm, and his right gripped on desperately to a metal pole. His black hair was disheveled, and strands stained with sweat fell down onto his face.

The teenager foolishly rushed his opponent in a desperate charge, but his makeshift weapon was effortlessly swatted away by the man's sword. "This has gone on longer than I would have liked, boy. Consider this your atonement for fucking with the Regents." The burly man smirked as he drove his weapon into the boy's chest and charged forward, pushing his blade in more and more into the boy's body; he stopped only once was his blade imbedded into both the boy and the wall.

The teen, hopelessly clinging onto life, struggled to push the blade out, to no avail. He opened his mouth to speak, but blood came out instead of words.

I'll change it!

A soft smile came to the girl's face. She was too late. With the pieces set in place, she watched as history would begin to unfold itself once more.