CHAPTER 1— BLOODY WATERS
824 Words
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Pitter patter, pitter patter, it rained red, so much so that the whole world was afraid to shuffle out of their beds.
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From the cloudy sky, heavy drops of rain fell upon the earth, soaking and soiling Emmanuel's dark, blue suit. It moistened his skin and damped the land, covering it with a beautiful red hue.
The drops glowed magnificently and around him were people, shocked and lost in bewilderment.
After all, something like this didn't happen everyday, in fact it didn't happen at all.
Blood falling like water from the sky?
It was a dream come through.
So why were they screaming like this was a calamity?
Why were they running around like if the blood touched them it would take their lives?
Why?!
It sure did anger Emmanuel, so much so that he wanted them covered in the same blood they were so afraid of, but this time, it'd be their own.
He wanted them under his clutches, beneath his control, begging persistently for their lives.
He wanted them scared, terrified, trembling, screaming, crying, he wanted them, he wanted them so god damn much.
Pulling the three star knife from his back pocket, he looked down at it, contemplating whether he should take them or not. Their lives meant nothing to him, they were like puppets, dolls, so why not?
His grip around it tightened and with a sick smile, he brought it to his lips, giving the blade a thorough lick.
Who would be his first target?
Someone weak, someone who'd scream, someone who'd...
A woman seeming to be her early 20s ran pass Emmanuel and with a strong hand, he grabbed at her pink blouse, hauling her flush against his chest.
She gasped, eyes gliding up to meet his expressionless ones. "W-what...? Why are yo..."
Seeing the knife in his grasp, her breath caught, words ceasing to escape her lips and Emmanuel knew for a fact that her heart was battering against her chest.
Terror took a stance across her face, lips starting to quiver as Emmanuel ran the knife along her soft, flustered neck, opening a door for the blood to flow rapidly through.
She sang to him, screamed with such a melody that she had him rocking and stomping his feet to prepare proper drumming.
The blaring sound got lower and lower until all that was left of it was a sharp intake of air; her very last breath.
That's it, she was now dead, body limp as he dropped her on the blood stained earth.
Injuri-no, killing her drew attention, had people watching him with terrified eyes, mouth empty of words just like a vacuum.
Emmanuel smiled victoriously at that, for indeed he succeeded at not just making them scared but petrified.
He had peaked his goal, but it was now time for him to breach another.
Twirling his knife, he took off, watching with gleaming eyes as the idiots tried to run but just ended up slipping in the bloody liquid.
They were truly pathetic, so pathetic that he didn't feel the need to make them suffer, not anymore instead he wanted them to die as soon as his blade touched them.
He didn't want to hear their pathetic screams, their whimpers, their cries—he didn't want to hear a thing that escaped their disgusting lips...he just wanted them dead.
So one by one he brought them down, killed them with no remorse at all.
He sliced...
He cut..
He stabbed...
He watched them bleed and breathe their last breaths...
It was so intriguing, so enjoyable that he got lost in the blade, lost in the blood and what was left before him was just one shaking lady.
He ran after her and she stood in her place unable to move or breathe. She was terrified, an easy victim.
He danced lively through the drops of thick blood, stepped heavily with his flooded boots and his blood drenched clothes. He'd kill her, take her life and drink her damn blood.
Reaching close enough, he grabbed her placing the knife at her throat and while smirking, he slowly starting to slic-
'Beeeeeeeep.........beeeeeep........beeeeeeep'
Emmanuel heaved up out of bed, eyes assessing his house as if it was unfamiliar. His dream, where has it gone?
He wanted it back, he was in dire need of watching that woman gape and gasp as she died.
He reached out at the nothingness before him as if it was his dream, but as he expected, he drew back with an empty hand.
His dream couldn't be attained in such a manner, in fact it couldn't be attained at all and it was all because of the damn watch on his wrist that wouldn't stop ringing.
Someone was calling and whoever it was, he'd kill them.
But even that thought was unattainable, for on the caller ID was the name Lucifer and the ruler of hell was immortal.
F*cking bastard!
- Writer
