of blood and lies ; dystopian

45

past

Red.

Everything around me was red.

My lips were stained with a dark color, matching the tight dress I wore. My hair was curled and pinned to the back of my head with a crimson-colored pin. Pulling it all together was a pair of red, tall heels.

It was Karro's favorite color.

Thus, it was mine.

I reached for my lips, my fingers lingering on my smile.

I felt good. I felt so fucking good.

We'd been fighting so much, but something had been different about tonight. We went to dinner, and drank wine, just like we had in the early stages of our "relationship."

It was getting better.

It had to be.

I continued down the hall at The Blood. In the process of walking toward my corridor, I needed to walk through three hallways. The Anaka's corridors, the training rooms, and the Officer's corridors.

Then, I would be in the secluded area. The Commander's corridor.

I stopped in my step and knitted my brows together.

My training room was propped open. It was almost 0200-- no one should be awake at this time. Especially in my training room. The only individuals I'd permitted were my Anaka and the Murtha.

And that cunt was dead.

I pulled my fingers away from my lips.

I frowned and looked up at the light that flickered.

The lights shouldn't be on, nor should the door be opened. No training was scheduled and all of the Anaka should be asleep.

I slipped my hand between my thighs. I groped for the leather strip I wore around my thigh, holding a blade tight in place against me. It was the only weapon I had on me; I couldn't remember the last time I only had one weapon on me.

I stayed silent and slowly pushed the door open.

I expected some child to be sitting in the center of the room, crying about how much they needed a mother-- it happened too often.

Or, perhaps, 7437 smiling, telling me of how she had alerted the Committee of my actions.

I could not have been further.

For a blink of time, all I saw was red.

Blood coated every inch of the room.

The ceilings and walls were sprayed with thin streaks of blood. Even though their bodies were small, the arteries had produced enough blood to coat the walls. Beneath their bodies, blood pooled in a puddle.

The blood was still expanding.

This had been recent.

My knuckles went white around the blade. I stopped breathing. I listened to the quiet drop of blood dripping from the ceiling, and into a puddle.

I slowly turned my head back to the door. The room blurred and lagged as I moved my head.

Bloody handprints coated the walls. Small. Childlike.

Specifically, the door.

My throat tightened and my body began to tremble. I hadn't let out a breath since entering the room.

The handprints accumulated at the door-- the area beside the handle saw the most.

They were trying to escape.