K: Midnight

Chapter Ten: Midnight

00:01 December 9, 2008

Red. So red. So beautiful. That's all I could remember at the time: waking to that brilliant shade surrounding me completely, as though nothing else existed in the world, perhaps not even me. But the red: the red, I knew, was real.

I wasn't certain where it came from, nor even what it was — only that it was perfect and that somehow, it had found me. Somehow, it brought me back to life.

I reached a hand toward it, longing to experience its warmth between my fingertips, for even in my place — that place I could not see, nor afterward recall but for the chill that settled there and numbed me to my core — I felt its heat and knew that it was good. I knew that it would soothe me, if only I could bring myself to touch it, to hold it in my arms, as if, by doing so, I'd finally be safe; yet, in my weakened state, my hand fell back against me and the red began to fade. I saw nothing after that.

When, at last, I woke, there it was again: such a pretty red. This time, I could see it far more clearly than before. What once was but a blur had turned into a form: a human form belonging to a man as fierce and otherworldly as the red that had encompassed him.

He lay asleep, waiting for me; but where was I exactly? A bed? And he, seated in a chair beside me, the pair of us inside a room: his room, perhaps?

I rose up on my knees. The bed seemed awfully large; then, so again did he; or perhaps it was myself who seemed quite small against all else inside the room. I thought it strange at first. But that red. Again I was distracted. I dared not look away. I'd never seen an aura quite like his, nor nearly filled with rage and savage power. I told myself: This time, this time I will touch it. I will know for certain how it feels.

I inched my body closer to the edge and set a tiny palm atop his knee, gently, so as not to wake him. I sent the other in the air, reaching out to him, but why was he so far? And why, my hand, so small? Again, I'd grown confused, yet only wondered vaguely, for my mind was driven solely toward the red. Next to it, to him, observing what I knew to be a force akin to mine, I found myself (by means unknown) inferior, and blamed my ill-perception on that one specific thought: that somehow, he had risen far beyond the limits bound to every other person in the world, along with me.

My hand was almost there. My fingers nearly grasped the object of my suddenly obsessive curiosity; but in that splitting instant, he stirred. My weight, spread thinly on his knee, was unexpectedly cast off. His eyes at once appeared and startled me. I fell, though as I did, I found myself encased, drawn nearer back to him as he, then staring down at me, appeared to glow more brightly than before. The red about his features spread throughout his body, radiating outward as though he himself, the fiery flame, ignited me as well.

Caught within his arms, the object of his gaze, a shuddered gasp commanded me to silence, and all that I could do was stare into the ruthlessness abounding in his eyes, entranced, yet wholly unafraid of what I saw. Equally, he looked at me as though I, too, were just as rare and dangerous as he.

"You... You're like me, aren't you?" Came his low, consoling voice, his words the very mirror of my thoughts. "Or, at least..." He paused, his face intensified. "Huh. That's weird." I eyed him wide and fell at once to nervousness, for he had spoken, all the while scanning me from head to toe and back. "Guess I didn't notice."

"N-notice what?" I stammered out.

"See for yourself," he offered, loosening his hold.

I then commenced to panicking, and in a swoop, I wrestled free of him. My bare feet hit the floor, and as I stood before his seated form, our eyes (to my astonishment) were not of equal distance from the other's. At my full height, and he relaxed within his chair, I found him towering above me.