The sky was red.
A maroon, crimson color that flooded the sky as I rose from my bed.
The window was open, to the right of me.
The room was dark. If it weren't for the fact that everything had been dark before my eyes had opened, I wouldn't have been able to see a thing.
To the left of me, the walls of a room painted black, with a door in the far left corner. I pushed the dark comforter off of me and squinted to the left. In the dim red and yellow light, was a nightstand. I pulled myself closer, and as I pulled a sharp pain shot up my side. Yet I didn't scream.
Looking down, I realized that a large stick had been driven into my pale leg, a stream of crimson bleeding into the bedsheets. For some reason I didn't regard this as awfully as I should have. I simply grabbed the stick and pulled it out of my calf- I felt nothing.
What was on the nightstand?
On the dark nightstand was a lamp that wasn't lit. Next to it was a black feather and a pair of chained cuffs.
Handcuffs?
I looked down, and the cuffs were on my feet. The feather was in my hand.
Strange.
I rose from my bed, my maroon nightgown falling just below my knees. It seemed that I could either go to the window, or exit out of the room through the door.
Or, I could stay here and go back to sleep, and pretend as if none of this ever happened. But for some reason I didn't want to do that.
The clinking of the chains on my feet followed as I slowly made my way around the bed and towards the window. I clutched onto each bedpost as I passed them, my eyes focused on the window panels open to the outside, the short, transparent curtains rising and moving against the draft that was seeping in.
I grabbed the window seal and leaned over.
A black forrest, far below me, surrounded by the crimson sky, and above that was a yellow moon. I looked down to find that I was on the uppermost floor of a large mansion. A shiver went down my spine as I measured the distance from me to the ground. If I fell, I would die.
The sky is never red.
What is happening..?
My hands let go of the window seal, and the feather slipped out of my hand. I gasped and watched it float towards the ground, somewhat afraid for it. And as I watched it didn't occur to me that the forest was silent. Forests are never silent unless they're dead. Not even a ruffle of leaves or the sound of a cricket. As the feather drifted closer to the ground, I was interested in where it would land.
Slowly, as it drifted towards the ground, a skeletal hand shot up out of the dark and snatched it, showing me nothing but a smile and a large, red eye.
Then suddenly, I was on the ground.
Fear lurched through my being because I was in the open, and when I looked back towards my bedroom window it was shut. I was standing in an open field, with the cuffs on my ankles now broken, and the creature who caught the feather standing about fifteen feet away from me.
The gruff, jagged breaths led me to believe that it was a man who seemed to jolt with each breath. He came as a dark silhouette that clutched a cleaver which reflected silver in yellow moon's light. He let the feather drop to the ground. And a deep voice spoke in a smooth, low tone.
"Ten."
Ten. I bolted away from the man and through the field, swatting away twigs and thorns that tore at the bottom of my red gown as I fled.
Nine. His voice echoed the word as I ran with heavy, frightened breaths.
Eight. A cleaver struck the tree next to me as I passed it.
I was in the forest now, running for my life.
He counted the seconds as I ran and I knew that I was supposed to be terrified of him.
"Four!" He shouted as if he were enraged, the cleaver flying past me and slicing through the massive tree trunk in front of me. I screamed and ran under it as it hit the ground with a large thud.
Three. The cleaver clipped my gown and flew into the dirt, running past it as I heard him pull it from the ground and laugh.
Two. The cleaver sliced my leg.
I screamed and fell, blood gushing from my leg as I cried out and grabbed the damned axe. Coated in crimson.
One.
I looked into the darkness and ahead of me was a dark silhouette, the red pupil lowering to the ground. For a long time he didn't move, as he watched my shaky sobs while I struggled to pull myself up by the cleaver's handle.
The pupil stared at me, the iris bigger than anything I had ever seen, the black dot in the middle almost quivering as they pierced into me.
I knew what the creature was feeling, whatever it might be.
Hunger.
The black pupil grew and he began to build speed, his footsteps turning into a sprint as I was limping away, as he grabbed my wrist and threw me to the ground, a flash of silver and he began to chop at me, over and over.
I was mangled and chopped into pieces but I wasn't dead, and the last thing I saw was his crazed, red pupil on a blank face, the smile gone, emotionless.
Suddenly, my eyes opened and I jolted out of bed, wracked by heavy breaths that scratched my throat and lungs.
It was just a dream.
Relief rushed through me as my eyes welled with happy tears.
Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that he was still here.
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Yay, I did it!
I knew this would happen eventually, but I'm starting a Horrortale book.
It's one of my favorite AU's, and for those who're waiting on the next Ragdoll chapter, I'm sorry. But this happened.
Author out!
