The Colour of Death

The Colour of Death

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WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación mié, abr 6, 2016
A short story I wrote when I was school to be expanded upon and fleshed out a little. "There it is. The colour of death. Green gangrene, violet bruised kisses, crimson lathered blood, a sinking abyss of black at the end. "Stop it, please, stop it..." The voice in Emilia's head is drowned out by the oh so demanding colours. A feeling of power wells up within her, tapping into that dark part of her soul where the monster, the 'gift', dwells. She is the grim reaper cloaked in darkness, a scythe waiting for the rich ruby colour of blood to creep across it. This is who she really is."
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Her death was just the beginning. ___ "What are you doing to us!" I cried. I felt the painful sensation deep in my skin as if I was burning from inside out. Like the sun became my greatest enemy and trying to burn me alive. I fell to my knees and I looked over at him with fear in my eyes. He told me to never show how terrified I was, but I couldn't help it. His eyes the color of night assured me that's it was going to be okay. But it wasn't. "Taking away your ability to walk in the sunlight. You are going to be like the rest of those bloodsuckers." she exclaimed. The pain was getting even stronger by the minute and I screamed at the top of my lungs. I looked down at my skin and I realized that it was scorched. But I managed to speak, despite my mind telling me to focus on the pain. "Why?" I whispered. The woman knelt down beside me and whispered something in my ear that chilled me to my bones. My eyes were slits with her this close to me. I wanted to kill her. "What do you think, Elora? This is war." ___ COMPLETED All rights to the owners.

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