Snow Dyed Red

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

My blood turns cold and without any plan or recognition I scream. A scream that pierces, one that destroys your ear drums and shatters glass. I grab onto Ryan's bed, probably the last place he was, and pull at the sheets. The come completely of and lay limply at my knees. Tears run down my eyes, leaving streaks of sadness showing on my cheeks.

How could they do this to him, my friend, the only other human I'd gotten to know here. They killed him.

The old lady threw open the door, "What's the matter dear?" She asks her breath shallow from having just run here.

I don't say anything. I don't know if I can. I try to grasp at the words I want to say. They killed him, they killed Ryan. How do you say such a thing?

The lady pulls my away from the bed gently and walks me out of the room. "I'm going to get in trouble for this," I hear her say quietly to herself. Of course you're going to get in trouble. One of your students died. You should be fired for this, put in jail and not allowed to see anyone. The lady helps me sit down in the lobby and hands me a glass of water. I want to resist but I don't have the energy, besides it's not her fault. She didn't kill him, but someone did.

She goes behind her desk and dials something into the phone. I take the time to leave, unsteadily on my feet, but I manage to get out the door anyway. The cold air nips at my face, and my nose turns red like children you often see in Christmas cartoons. I pull my jacket in tighter and make my way over to the library. I need to tell him, and we need to get something done. I don't care what it is, but progress needs to be made.

"Nicollo," I say to get his attention. He's nose deep in a giant book of lore, yet still keeps his perfect posture. He turns around and waves me over. I pull out a chair and sit down across from him. He doesn't look back up at me and resumes his search.

"The killed him," I say. My voice wavers but it comes out all the same.

"Who," Nicollo asked getting strait to the point his eyes looking directly into mine.

"Ryan, they used his as another sacrifice," tears threaten to spill out of my eyes again. I calm them as to not create a scene in the library, but the sadness doesn't go away. Nicollo doesn't speak. He's thinking again, about what our next move is, about how we can find this group, about how we can protect ourselves from being killed.

"They're coming after you next, that's what we have to worry about."

I'm an idiot. That's the only logical thing for them to do isn't it? They killed one human in this school; they have no reason not to go after the other. I'll be the next sacrifice. By the time today is over I'll be dead.

"Why aren't you doing anything," Nicollo says in a hush voice with urgency.

"What can I do? I'm going to die." I get up and walk towards the exit, "I need some fresh air," I say to no one in particular.

Nicollo grabs my arm. "I'm not letting you go. Stay in here. You'll freez out there." He pulls me into a hug. I stay in his arms and let the warmth sink in. It's been so longs since I've felt the normal heat of the sun, but this is different. It's like a thousand blankets covering me and protecitong me from the darkness of the night without suffocating me. It's like a family sitting around a fire place and talking. This warmth fills my soul and not just my body.

I hug Nicollo back and break into tears, "I don't know what to do. He's dead Nicollo, and I'm going to be next."

He pets down my hair, "It's going to be alright. I'll keep you safe," he says comforting me. It works. I relax into his chest. We retreat into the farthest corners of the library, places where the librarian might not even know of.

"What are we going to do?" I ask him as I sit next to him, crunched up it to as little a ball I can manage.

"We need to take them out before the can take out you. The only problem is figuring out how this is to be done," he sighs and for good reason. What can we do? There's only two of us, and we don't know how many of them.

I rest my head on his shoulder and yawn, "Tomorrow," I say and drift to sleep in his arms. We'll deal with this tomorrow.

When I come to I'm in a dorm room. The plants scattered around the room tell me it must be Nicollos. I glance around the small apartment but he's not there. I push away the blankets and slowly step on the floor. My head spins at first but the world rights itself and I'm able to stop leaning on the bed post.

There's a note on his desk written in delicate cursive, no doubt his.

-I've gone out for breakfast. Please do not be leave. I'll be back as soon as it's possible.-

I can't help but laugh. He's as formal as ever. Before I can forget I make his bed as nicely I can.

After I sit down and the wave of sad hits me again, something that I doubt will ever go away. The nausea in the back of my head and the feeling that I have to throw up, it's because of last night.

The door opens behind me and Nicollo comes in. He hands me a small bag. Inside is a warm bagel, the perfect temperature so that the cream cheese has started to melt.

"I wasn't sure if you'd like it, but I've heard of excellent recommendations saying this place is good. Try it," he pushes it towards me. I un wrap it to find he's right. It's one of the best bagels I've had, and as far as bagels go there's not much you improve on. At least that's what I thought until now.

"Thank you," I finish my breakfast and stuff the garbage in the bag. Luckily I haven't made a mess.

"Are you ok?" He asks a worried expression on his face. I nod yes. I don't want him to worry, but we both know I'm lying. It's too soon to get over what happened, and I don't plan on trying for a long time. For now all I can do is cry for my friend, and remember the times we had together as short as they were.

"Let not talk about it," I tell him. I get up to throw my garbage away, "Where's your garbage can," I ask after looking around and failing to find it. He grabs it and tosses the garbage for me.

"Come for a walk with me," he says not demandingly as the wording would sugest, but more like he's asking me a question. I agree and take his hand. He throws a scarf over me and hands me gloves. "It's getting colder," he says as if to imply that my winter coat won't do for much longer and he's right. It's to the point we're I can't go outside anymore or I'll freeze to death.

"Then why don't we stay in. It's nice in here"