The fragile rose stood in a glass vase on the windowsill, its petals were glistening more than ever as if they had just been painted a spectacular red.
"A date? Tommorow, Derek?"
"If you'd like, my sweet rose."
She sighed, "I'm sorry, I can't." she looked down at her feet. There was what seemed like a growl that came from the other side of the line, "It's fine, goodbye, my rose."
"Goodbye." she placed the cell on her desk and sauntered towards the unique bloom. A petal had fallen from it, it lay on the ground in peace.
She held the blossom in her hand and gazed at it, bringing it closer to her face, a strong, metallic and sickening smell radiated off the exquisite flower.
"W- what?" she stuttered in utter disbelief, her finger unintentionally stroked the wet petals, some substance, red and slightly sticky, smudged on her finger. "Blood?"
"This rose is special, like you. It holds a sign of love and end."
She shivered, her phone beeped, a text message.
Hello, Rose. How is the rose I gave you keeping up?
She let out a small gasp, another petal fell, she watched it drift to the ground in silence, landing beside the other red rose petal.
Her eyes widened, "The rose, it dies in silence." Rose said in realisation.
* * *
YOU ARE READING
Fate Of The Flowers
Horror𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒔𝒚𝒎𝒃𝒐𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒂𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒂...