Chapter 2
When the World Was Crimson
When the World Was Crimson
The full moon was out, hiding behind the gray storm clouds in the star-filled sky. It's light shone done on a quiet town, illuminating the roads for the townspeople to travel on, yet, it was not needed for there were no townspeople to travel. Fires that scorched the homes of many brightened the road as well, therefore the moon's pale light was useless in comparison.
“Why is there so much grief in my moon-lit town?” the Moon wondered sorrowfully as she gazed down at the disintegrating homes. “Why is no one appreciating my ...oh?” the Moon trailed off when she saw a single body walk down the center of the town. “Now who is this?”
The body was one of a young woman at about fourteen years of age. It was beaten and adorned in torn shreds of clothing; once white, but now died in a crimson color. Her hair, reaching towards the small of her back, was tangled and matted with blood clotting in the tendrils. Only a few patches shone a light brown color, the original color of her previously sought-after hair.
It was until the moon looked more closely at the face of the woman when she recoiled back in fear. “Oh my!” the Moon exclaimed, slightly startled by the chill she received.
The woman's visage was indeed a chilling image to view. Her lipstick red lips were stretched back from her teeth in a fearless snarl with blood staining the porcelain color and dripping down the corner of her mouth to the tip of her chin. Her nose was wrinkled, as if she had just smelt something offensive to her senses, and her eyes, those alone would send a chill down anyones spine. The normal chocolate brown color of her eyes were hidden from her dilated pupils that gave the illusion that Darkness had taken over her vision. They were wide and crazed, and her eyebrows were scrunched together, defining the crease between them ten-fold.
Suddenly, everything stopped. The woman's wild mask crumpled into a dazed, little girl's childish features, and it seemed as if the flames that once licked the sides of the buildings in fury paused, just to see her reaction.
The little girl's eyes moved about sporadically, almost too fast to be human, and soon, tears began to spill out of the corners of her eyes. The Moon watched the little girl crumple to the floor with silent sobs and watched the little girl scream in agony. The Moon watched the little girl break.
***
It was midnight, and all were asleep in the house except for one curious little girl. This girl's name was Freya, and she loved adventures. Her mother had always said that one day, her adventures would get her into trouble, but Freya never listened. She was too curious to quit.
On this midnight, Freya decided to follow her wandering father. She noticed him leave a few minutes earlier and couldn't help but wonder, I wonder where daddy is going? So off Freya went, following in her father's footsteps.
As quietly as she could, she tiptoed out of her house and followed after her dad, staying hidden behind boxes and carts out on the street when she needed too.
I wonder why he keeps looking around to see if anyone is watching him go where he's going, she mused, getting quite suspicious of her father's actions. It was always Freya who blew things out of proportion for all she knew he could have been sneaking to the candy store for those midnight munchies. It was when she saw her father turn into a house when her suspicion become something genuine.
What would father be doing in Miss. Lyla's house? Freya thought with her head cocked to the side. After waiting for a few more minutes, she paced across the dirt road to the unlit house. It took her a moment to gain enough courage to enter the house with out permission, and when she was finally in the enclosed space, her fear of getting caught was replaced with curiosity.
She wandered the long halls, searching for her father, when she finally heard weird noises coming from a lit room at the end of the hall. Is someone hurting? She asked herself, trying to associate the noise with something familiar to her.
Freya peered through the slight crack in the door, her eye blinded at first from the light that shone in the room beyond. When she finally adjusted to the light, she saw an unexplainable figure, a naked figure. He's hurting her! She thought at first when she heard the painful moans that flowed past Miss. Lyla's lips.
“Oh Mr. Fionn, that feels so good.”
“I bet it does baby...”
Freya's eyes widened. She finally realized what was happening. Her mind flashed back to a time when her mother gave her the adult talk.
“Sometimes honey, adults like to hug in a special way. When they do, it's because they love each other very much,” her mother had said as she looked off into the distance, as if remembering something.
She was brought back to the past when the door in front of her face was flung open and a loud gasp was heard.
“FREYA?” her father shouted, disbelieving that his own daughter had just watched him perform an impure act.
Freya didn't hear him though; she was too immersed in her own childish thoughts to care that her father was screaming at her. Daddy loves Miss. Lyla? Daddy doesn't love mommy? But mommy loves daddy. And Miss Lyla loves daddy. Slowly, Freya began to come up with a conclusion. A conclusion that was abnormal for a little twelve year old to come up with. Miss. Lyla is stealing daddy. She's going to take daddy away from mommy and me and then mommy will be sad so I will be sad. I can't let Miss. Lyla steal daddy away from us.
While her father was in the middle of explaining to her that it wasn't what it looked like, she simply turned around and walked away from him, her mind set on only one thing.
It only took her a moment to find where Miss. Lyla's kitchen was, and it only took her a moment to find where the knives were.
“Remember Freya, I don't want you ever touching these. They're dangerous and you can chop your finger off with it,” her mother had reminded her not so long ago when Freya had picked up a knife from the floor in her kitchen.
I'm sorry mommy, but Miss. Lyla is going to steal daddy. I can't let that happen, she internally apologized to her mother, who was probably asleep at home having pleasant dreams.
“Freya? What are you doing with that knife? I thought your mother told you not to touch those things,” her father exclaimed as he stood in the doorway of the kitchen after following her down the hall in confusion.
Freya paid no attention to her father's voice while she glued her eyes to the shammed Miss. Lyla who stood with her back towards her, sobbing in her hands. “Bye bye Miss. Lyla,” she cheered in a childish voice, causing Miss. Lyla to turn around in wonder.
“What are you... AHHHHHH!” Miss. Lyla screamed, causing a grin to form on Freya's tiny lips. She shoved the sharp knife into Miss. Lyla's stomach, twisting it this way and that, trying to screw it in for it was hard to stab someone when one had such little strength.
“You can't steal daddy from mommy and me. You're evil,” Freya stated bluntly, looking up at Miss. Lyla's eyes. The woman only looked down at the little girl in terror before her eyes closed and she slumped to the ground.
“LYLA!” Freya's father screamed in pain as he ran forward towards the dead woman, finally breaking out of the paralyzed state he was in moments before. “Freya! What the, why did you do this? You just killed her!” her father yelled as he grabbed Freya around the throat and pinned her to the wall in anger. Tears welled up in Freya's innocent eyes while her throat closed off.
Freya felt the wooden handle of the knife still in her grip, and thinking only about surviving, brought her arm up and jammed the knife into the side of her father's neck. His eyes went wide and blood gurgled out of his mouth as he dropped Freya to the floor and grasped his bleeding neck. It wouldn't stop. It sprayed from between the tiny spaces between his fingers. And finally, after a few minutes, it slowed down, 'till it was only leaking through the holes. By this time, her father had collapsed to the floor with wide empty eyes and cold blue lips.
“Bye bye evil daddy. Mommy and me will be fine without you. Mommy will only love me now,” Freya stated cheerfully while she stood from the ground in her bloodied nightgown and the crimson painted knife.
“F-F-F-Freya?” a sob was choked out from towards the front door.
Freya turned around with a smile when she recognized the familiar voice. “Mommy! Mommy guess what! We can live together forever. Just you and me,” the little girl sang as she skipped towards her mother.
Her mother stared wide eyed at her bloodied daughter, and locked her eyes on the knife that was held in Freya's hand. “You-you killed Robert,” she stated in disbelief, tears pouring down the side of her cheeks.
“Why is mommy crying? She should be happy that I got rid of evil daddy. She should be happy that I got rid of evil Miss. Lyla. Miss. Lyla was going to steal daddy from us, and now she can't steal anyone from us because we have no one,” Freya explained, confused at her mother's reaction.
“Freya, you killed Robert. I love...loved Robert, not matter the crime done,” her mother sobbed as she walked past her daughter and went to cradle her husband's head in her arms, ignoring the blood that stained her nightgown.
“Mommy,” Freya called, saddened at her mother's tears.
Her mother paid no attention to her and continued to mourn over her loss, causing Freya's conclusions to run wild again.
Mommy still loves evil daddy, even though I got rid of him for her. Why? Why does she love evil daddy more than me? Mommy is mine. Mommy loves daddy and I love mommy and daddy loved evil Miss. Lyla. Mommy doesn't love me. She loves daddy. Mommy doesn't love me. Mommy doesn't love me, she chanted in her head, looking down at the bloodied knife. It finally hit her. She killed. She murdered two people. Her innocent chocolate eyes widened when she came to the final conclusion. Evil Miss. Fionn.
She stared at the knife as she brought it up at an angle in front of her chest. I must get rid of evil Miss. Fionn. The knife came down at rapid speed and blood was splattered on the wall as Freya closed her eyes to brace herself for the pain.
It never came.
Her mother's eyes looked into her daughter's brown orbs, caring and love pouring out in the form of tears. “I don't want you to go, too Freya,” her mother cried, blood coming up from out of her throat and dripping onto Freya's shocked face.
“Mo-mommy?” Freya stuttered, tears leaking out from the edges. Her brain registered what happened. Her mother tackled her. The knife slipped out of Freya's hand. It stabbed her mother in the heart. “MOMMY!” Freya shouted when she realized that death was taking her mommy away.
“Please Freya, I don't want you to go too. Live.”
Those were the last words that passed through her mother's lovely lips.
And that was the beginning of Darkness.
