Crimson Shadow
- Reads 26
- Votes 2
- Parts 6
Ongoing1h 1m
Last published Mon, Jun 1, 2026
The front door to the courtyard of the palace opened, revealing a woman dressed in black, her long raven hair tied up with a brooch, which almost felt like a crown.
A few strands of her hair were stuck out, which fell on her forehead like curtains revealing her eyes, the fire burning in those black irises as she lifted her forehead was clearly visible. Sword held out in her hand, drenched in blood.
Streaks of sweat and blood were infused on her face, her face glowed as she stepped into the light of the palace, the flambeau just added to her beauty.
All the eyes averted at her, monitoring her every move, some in fear, some in astonishment and some simply in adoration, she climbed the stairs of the pavilion.
Straightening her back and shoulders as she now stood in the center of the stage, she changed the way of holding her sword, holding its blade downwards like a dagger in her fist.
She held out her other palm straight near her chest and joined the fist holding blade with it. With a smile she raised the gesture towards the king, above the level of her head, bowing her neck.
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"It causes your immune system to turn against you," I explained gently. The color terrifyingly drained from his face as he stared at his knuckles. "I have a spot," he whispered, his voice scraping like glass. "Right here." He let out a strangled noise as the stadium footage buffered. "Riley!" he shrieked, covering his burning face while peering through his fingers at his future self. "Those pants leave absolutely nothing to the imagination!" He went so unnaturally still I thought his heart had stopped beating. His charcoal-stained fingers curled into tight fists. "Fifty," he whispered, scanning the fatal summary on the glowing screen. "I am... I am gone at fifty." What if the only way to save your future was to completely abandon your past? In 1982, Michael Jackson is suffocating. Trapped behind his family's compound gates and drowning under industry pressure, the rising star just wants a life of peace and normalcy. The universe answers-violently ripping him from his timeline and dropping him onto the bedroom rug of Riley, a freelance graphic designer in the year 2025. Stranded forty-three years in the future, Michael must face a world that already knows his tragic history. But Riley fiercely refuses to let that history repeat. She offers him the anonymous, ordinary life he always craved, rebuilding his shattered confidence brick by brick and teaching him the radical concept of self-love. More importantly, she arms him with the ultimate weapon: the brutal truth. She gives him the exact names of the snakes hiding in his 1982 backyard, the upcoming betrayals, and the devastating tragedies he is destined to face. When the universe inevitably pulls him back, Michael is no longer the timid pop star terrified of his shadow. He is a king preparing to claim his throne, knowing exactly how to rewrite music history and what it takes to survive. But armed with the future, changing his fate might cost him the one person who taught him how to live.
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