• Red Snow

    The night was calm. The cars had abandoned the ice covered roads. People were huddled inside next to roaring fires. Except for me.
    I was walking home through the cold. My feet fell through the white earth and landed hard on the concrete that lay below. The bag slung onto my shoulders made me rear backwards with every step.

    I turned toward the center of town. The massive oak tree that stood there was bare now but it still had a mysterious air surrounding it. I don’t know if it was the snowflakes that glistened in the light of the street lamps or the swirling clouds hanging above my head, but it had a strange magnificence. Not knowing what awaited me there, I took a detour from my original path. Heading closer, the tree’s texture came into focus. I placed my hand on the rough surface.

    Softly I rubbed the bark, like you would pet a dog. Though winter had blown its cold and icy winds for many weeks, the tree still felt warm. It was as if I could the soul of this elder. I set down my pack and lay down beneath it.

    The cold of melted snow surged through my denim of my jeans. My legs began to numb, and yet, I didn’t move. There was a feeling deep in my heart, in my very being that I was meant to be there. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

    An hour might have passed when I saw him. His short black hair was gelled down and back like a business man. His eyes held a beautiful shade of glazed green. The light reflecting of the snow, made his soft tan cheeks shine with a light luster. A crimson velvet handkerchief stood bold in the breast pocket of his black suit. His wears, looks and mysteriousness made him so… appealing. He appeared so suave and benignant.

    But something about him made me uneasy. The whole time I gazed upon this now silhouetted figure, I felt an eerie chill flow from him and into my body. However, not the cold from his presence or the melting snow beneath me could compare to what was soon to come.

    I continued to watch him with great interest? Questions began to swirl like a tempest in my mind. Why would he be here? Is he waiting for something? Could this be why I was pulled to this place? They were tornadoes, ripping through the person inside me, consuming my every thought. Every second, more and more joined in the endless dance, making the torrent grow to grotesque proportions. Until in an instant all was quieted.

    The white flakes began to steadily slow as a new man walked into frame. His brown hat was pulled down, obscuring his face. A long tanned leather overcoat dragged across the ground, soaking the ends. He seemed to be favoring his right leg and put most of his weight on it. The left leg, however, dragged behind him like a dog that failed to walk with his master.

    This new man continued limping toward the man in black. As he crossed my sight, I caught a look at the spotted trail winding behind him. Droplets of blood stained the pathway red. My eyes darted to the source. The taste of warm vomit passed over my tongue and stung my gums as I gazed upon the man’s right knee. A chunk of flesh had been torn from the side of the joint to where bones could be clearly seen grinding against each other.

    I turn my head away from the flowing hole in the man and returned them to the one draped in darkness. His eyes no longer held there mystery of emotionless blankness. Now they grasped tight onto a look of anxiousness and excitement. A greedy smile had been draped over his lips.

    “I see that your limbs can still stand your weight,” the green eyed man jested with a slight chuckle. His hand reached back along his neck. Something flashed as the appendage returned to his side. The hilt of a glimmering blade now calmly rested in the man’s relaxed grip.

    “Why do you play at your prey with words?” questioned the bloody man.

    “To tell you the truth, my dearest friend, I am like the cat. I enjoy batting at my mouse and find no thrill after its death,” goaded the devilishly handsome man as he gently stroked and gazed upon the silver side of his blade with his index and middle fingers.

    When his soft skin had reached the end of his sword, the man slowly tilted his head upright to stare where the man in the trench coat swayed back and forth, trying to make his gushing knee stable.

    “Why do you fight the pain Daniel?” asked the armed man as he pulled the handkerchief from his breast pocket and carefully polished the reflective metal of his weapon. “Indulge yourself in the intoxicating rush of it. Collapse to the ground from the high. Let it,” he took a deep breath through his nose, “consume you.”

    Daniel suddenly fell to his knees, his eyes rolling back, the pain causing him to wince. They flow from his knee connected with the white covered ground causing a river of red blood to stream and gush. The slow-moving surge cut a steaming path through the trampled, ice covered land.

    Tears began to fall and freeze on the ground as Daniel began to speak in a low controlled voice. “How does my death or life affect your existence? Why would you want my blood spilt here?”

    “Daniel, if you insist on struggling for your last grasps at life then conserve what strength you have and forget such feeble questions,” sighed the man as he continued shining his blade. “But, to quench your thirst for knowledge, I shall enlighten you. Why have I selected you to die here tonight? Well, in all sense of honesty, I haven’t the slightest idea. I simply saw you, alone in the street and thought to myself that you looked so peaceful and happy. Yet I also saw that you would appear better, covered in red.” The man let out an empty laugh that seemed to echo harshly against my ears.

    Horror went across Daniel’s face with the sound of the others mans voice. His fighting spirit gave out at that moment and his face fell straight down to the cold white snow.

    The man with the sword began to stroll casually over to the beaten man. Placing his crimson handkerchief back into his breast pocket, he crouched beside Daniel and began to whisper. “Now your pain will be over but mine shall begin again. Now I’ll have to find another victim for my pet to feast upon.” He gently stroked his weapon one last time before he rose. “Good-bye. Sleep well until we meet again.”

    The slash was quick and held not a single note of sound. The man, once known as Daniel’s head lay a few inches away from the clean cut falls of his neck. The blood did not shoot out but simply flowed freely from the wound. It pooled turning the snow a bright shade of red. The unnamed man withdrew his red extension from the saturated earth. He lifted the sword to his face and proceeded to taste the slowly coagulating liquid with his outstretched tongue.

    A screech broke through the silence of the death scene that now rested in square. My hands clasped against my mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound. The movement seemed a second to late. The killer now stared into my eyes with his lick still lapping the fluid away from the metal of his honed steel.

    He pulled his arm from his face, revealing the droplets against his upper lip. “It seems,” he began to speak again, “that your next meal and pleasure will come very shortly, my pet.”