A Sanguinary Rose

Crimson Tears: Part 2

COME APRIL the most important academic time of our high school career was upon us. All our work and study culminated in our performance on the SAT exams, so we were told. I reassured myself over and over a passing grade would be enough to save my life.

Out of all of us, Anja was the most distressed, though. Even after our hard studying sessions, and Oliver and me tutoring her on anything she didn't understand until she did, there seemed to be nothing we could do or say to soothe her fears.

"Well, regardless of what happens, we're all eligible for the ENOAS (Extra-Human National Orphic Achievement Scholarship). You won't have to worry about student debt." That didn't calm her either.

At the same time, the mania overseas spread to North America like a disease before there had been a single hit on the country's ORPHEUS Bureaus. I saw it on the news, the internet, and even the people around me. Neighbors were wary of each other, and it appeared everyone always looked over their shoulders. Out in public venues, among strangers, people seemed to lose their politeness. They snapped at each other. The mall, the library, and several public places seemed emptier than ever before.

Old news that hadn't been given attention at the time when they occurred now resurfaced stronger than ever. Where are the missing people from Halloween week? Then this: Farpoint at night. Avoid at all costs. My favorite though: Avoid north Washington at all costs, a cesspool of freaks and evil.

Even Mom had caught on with the times, she who had always allowed me my night strolls and to spend whole weekends out of the house. Now I had to sneak out and be meticulous in covering evidence. But I couldn't blame her.

Still, things couldn't get much worse, could they? Sooner or later the best cadre of warlocks in the world, backed by the global governments, would bend Mandala and his allies to their knees and stop this nightmare from spreading. Right?

Then the worst thing I'd hoped would be averted happened after months of speculation.

Terrorist attack. Government building on fire, Hollywood, CA.

Oliver connected his computer's screen to the TV in his living room and put on the news report of the day. There was an aerial view of the building, its dark fumes billowing up to a darkening sky. Five suspects detained, read the label over the live broadcast's image. Police body cameras showed them up close, three men and two women. The masks they wore looked eerily familiar—a grinning cheshire cat, a mad hatter top hat, a porcelain fox mask, a ghostly kabuki and a painted clown. In the footage, the cops led them out to the open at gunpoint.

As soon as they stepped out under the sun, their bodies smoked, and without uttering a word or complaint, they burst into flames. "***k, get away. Get away from them!" one cop shouted while the cameras swayed, which then cut back to the news anchors' shocked faces.

"Those are just like the ones that attacked us on Halloween," Anja said, sitting at the foot of the couch between my legs.

My nails were digging into the couch's armrest. It's almost time.

"Did you guys see the clip that went viral yesterday?" Morganne said, turning her laptop around to show us. The screen was black, save for a white horizontal line. She played the video, and it began to wiggle and wobble in time to the voice's sound waves.

It sounded heavy, husky, deep, and it was altered with sound editing. "Predators do not bend to their prey, nor do they hide from them. Take a stand. This is not a war. We do not condone mindless killing. It is a wakeup call. This is our fight for equality. Not to oppress, but to not be oppressed. If they come knocking down your doors, harassing your loved ones for the sole reason of being, rise and fight back. Standing together we'll weather the storm. In the end, a new dawn of thought will come where all sapiens live as an equal."