After nearly five years, Ymir Amaranthus finally returns home at his father's request, however disaster strikes when multiple unexplained attacks have been reported happening around the supernatural fractions. Witches, vampires, werewolves, and crea...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ONE YEAR LATER
Grief is a funny thing.
It makes you wild, stupid, angry, and impulsive. Yet, in the moment, all I felt was nothing. Not even as I watched the pleasure fill this random guy's eyes I met at the club last night as we grind on one another from the restroom of the club to my apartment, hands all over each other, lips all over any part of skin. The night is barely rememberable and I don't know if it's because nothing excites me anymore or if I was just too drunk and high to remember.
The days all seem to fade into one anyway, the only change being my outfit and whatever guy finds himself in my bed the morning after. Today's victim is not necessarily my type but when are they ever? Blemish-free russet-brown skin and a fade are the first things to greet me when I open my eyes. The guy is still asleep, a lanky arm hanging off the side of the bed as he snores obnoxiously into the pillow, mouth wide open and saliva dripping from his lips.
I grimace at the scene before rolling over so I won't have to stare at the random guy in my bed. I reached for my phone on the bedside table, disregarding all the missed calls and text messages from people, and checked the time to see it was nearing 3 pm. I try not to glance at the date on the calendar but my eyes can't help but follow it.
Today makes a year since the incident or as the order likes to call it The Amaranthus Massacre. A year is crazy. It seems way shorter in my head. I can close my eyes and still see the blood, practically smell the metallic taste, and hear flesh tearing in my ears like I'm still there at the scene of the crime. I wish I could back to that day. I wouldn't go back to try to stop it or anything because I know I couldn't have and I more than likely would've ended up like everyone else, but that probably would've been a better option for me. Every day is like reliving a never-ending nightmare.
After all the interrogations, meeting with Madam Dahlia, and then another questioning with The Order, I was finally free to go back to what I was used to. The order did nothing more than ask the same questions that everyone else asked and I eventually got tired of repeating myself so many times.
Who do you think did this?
Where is your father?
Where were you that night?
It solved nothing because the case is still open, but the trail is cold. It always has been and probably always will be because they can't even find my father or at least his body in the wreckage. I don't know what to make of it, and I try not to think about it too long because then I enter a dark hole that I've fought so hard to get out of. That's why I hate whenever it gets too quiet and I'm left alone with my thoughts because my mind starts wondering and asking questions that just don't need to be asked.
