These Dying Desires

Chapter 3- Denim Harding

Fire. If I hadn't been familiar with it before, I absolutely was now. The indescribable warmth, the blistering flames, the bright, deadly colors, and the burning, flaming, heated smell. All of it was now a part of me and who I am. Now, of course, that in itself sounds weird, but there were explanations for it that I just cannot utter at the moment; why would I? It would ruin the fear-factor of the story.

Yet, the true questions that remain about me cannot be answered by me, either. My soul was left in a world were I cannot imagine and it wanders without me. My memories of life are gone and I know little about my previous living time. I know small facts that still somehow shaped me into what I am currently, and also know obvious facts that I couldn't have picked out without help. I sound ridiculous, saying that I can't even recognize my own traits and lifestyle, but in all honesty, it scares me that these statements are true.

Denim Harding- 

What could I say? Crimson's apartment was absolutely stunning and I truly admired it. Though it did feel a bit small, it was the cozy kind of small; the place was welcoming and felt almost alive. Being a phantom of my kind, I was able to disappear at will and then venture around the place without Crimson or Felicity discovering what I was doing.

First, I examined the open kitchen that had beautiful rosewood cupboards with marble counter tops and knobs, all of it was perfectly polished and absolutely stunning. The floors were made of black linoleum and walls were a deep Burgundy color for that section of the open room connected to the living room. The refrigerator was a newer model and coated in stainless steel with a water dispenser on the front. I didn't bother opening it to know that it was fully loaded with delicious foods and desserts. Many decorations (consisting of flowers and pictures) were scattered among the room, giving it the homely touch that it needed to make it feel like there was a family living in this home. I quietly opened different cupboards to examine their dishes, pots, and pans knowing beforehand that it would match the kitchen's personality (which, of course, it did). Finally, I moved on to the next room. 

While I floated over to the main part of the living room/dining room, I listened to Felicity and Crimson argue over the offensive comment said towards Hikaru, and tried to hold back a snicker. I stopped at the small matching table located just to the right of the kitchen strip. The chairs were intricate with black seat cushions covering the bottom of the chair. The floor in this area changed to black, plush carpet and complimented the room nicely. I pondered if it had been this nice when they moved in. 

Once again, I floated again to a different portion of the room: the actual living room. I didn't expect much of a difference from what I had already seen in the kitchen and the dining room, but it was a bit of a change. There was a long, white, leather couch pushed against the back wall neighboring their neighbor's apartment and two white leather chairs, one pushed against the wall bordering the balcony and the other facing the dining room. The wall facing the couch held a mounted 50" flat screen and had a entertainment center underneath holding their DVD player, VCR player, Xbox 360, and Dreamcast (plus a bunch of movies and CD's). On the top of the large block of wood and electronics, there was something of a miniature table cloth underneath some more family photos and a few candles. On each side of the large TV, there were rosewood bookshelves holding different novels, dictionaries, Bibles, and Encyclopedia sets. I dumbly gazed at each book, seeing if I could recognize any of them; I did not succeed in this, but instead, found something interesting: a handbook. Not just any handbook, but an original werewolf handbook. 

Crimson must be the descendant of the Great Chanter, the founder of the Sunwolf tribes. 

Upon realizing this crucial fact, I understood the anger between Hikaru and Crimson; the Sunwolf tribes and the Fallen Angels have been fighting for ages. It almost felt like the fight between the Capulets and the Montegues; no one could remember what started the war. In all honesty, it was somewhat sad to see a fight of ages lose meaning; that's no fun! The entertainment should always have some kind of story to back it up, intriguing the audience. After pondering about the quarrel between the two "peoples," I questioned why, being in the Sunwolf Tribe, Crimson was a dark wolf; that was said to be quite uncommon. I would interrogate later. I had no immediate desire to understand this situation.