Horror Fan Fiction / Other Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Visions of Red ❯ chapter 1 ( One-Shot )

Visions of Red

 

From the moment he woke up that day the voices started. A low murmer thatslowly raged into a torrent of hideous noise,engulfing him in moments. “Blood! They yelled. “We must have blood!” Their manic song continued. “Glorius blod!” some said. “Blood.blood.blood!” the volume crecsendoed as he pushed his hands against the sides of his head, trying to muffle the shouts coming from his own subconscious. His eyes squeezed shut. Why wouldn't they stop? His eyes opened. Suddenly, the voices stopped. He stared across the room, eyes unblinking, mouth hung slightly agape. It was beautiful. The flowing colors a bright and vibrant contrastto the dreariness of his urban apartment. They were so close now. When had moved forward? No matter. The voices had gotten what they had wanted or, atlest were satisfied with the picture before them. He touched it. Such a lovely color. Red. The color of blood. As he stare fixedly at the display before him, he neglected to hear the door open behind him.

“What's going on here?” a voice said, breaking him from his revere. He turned slowly around,a fixed smile on his face.

“Hello darling.” He beamed. “I'm sorry I didn't hear you come in. I must have overslept.”

“Overslept is right!” she said, a slight touch of irritability creeping into her voice. “What's that you,ve got?” she moved closer to get a better look and then she gasped. “Oh, how nice of you!” She exclaimed as she reached around him to the vase of red roses on the nightstand, one of which was still clutched in his hand. “I just love roses. Thank you, Jean.” She happened to glance at the clock on the wall. “You better hurry and get ready. We'll e late for those lunch reservations.” She smiled as she turnedand left the room, giving him time to change.

 

The door to apartment, and almost as suddenly “Blood!” they scream. “Must have blood!” The force of the impact on his mind almost stumbled him. He looked frantically around for something, anything to stop them…and there it is. It is a sign from god. It's message clear. The bright, glowing, red letters leading him to salvation. The voices calmed as he approached it. `EXIT' it said. Oh how wonderfully simple and yet it had saved him from certain suffering.

The short travel to the café kept them at bay. There were mayy beautiful thing to keep them satisfied. That bright red sportscar, or the wonderful ruby color of that woman's sweater. Even the pink of that small girl's bow held traces of beauty. Inside the dreariness of the café, however, the reprieve came to an end. They began again with a new ferver. There was no beauty here. It was all white and clean, with nothing to hold him.his teeth gritted together. He had to find something. Luckily for him, his girlfriend had sensed his discomfort and turned to him.

“You ok?” She asked, concern putting a frown on her pretty features. Ah, but her lips are gorgeous. The red lipstick painted neatly across their perfect roundness.

“I am fine.” He says to reassure her. Tey sit. She talked about mundane things: how the weather was and what had happened this week in her favorite soap opera. He stared at her lips. The words drifted through the air to anywhere but his ears. Her lips were his world, the perfectness in the red that did not wash off, no matter how much she took a sip of her coffee or how often she would lick them to keep them moist. But, suddenly, it was not enough. A low murmur rose. The voices were restless. They were no longer pleased. They needed blood blood. The murmurs grew louder and there was no choice.

“I'm not feeling very well. Do you mind if we head back?” He cant control them for much more.

“If your really not feeling well, I suppose.” She seemed reluctant, but concerned, so she got up and they left. There was no comfort from the things that had calmed them before. None. He must give them the real thing. No. No blood. Never. He would never do that. The pain he felt as he practically stumbles into his apartment could only be described as such: pure and utter agony. His hands held his head now as he struggled to stay on his feet.

“are you ok?” she asked genuinely concerned.

“I will be fine.” He answered. “I just need to rest.” Through the throbbing pain he looked to see her worried face. He smiled through the pain and she smiled back. He leaned in to give her a small goodbye peck. “I love you.” He said, but the reply necer came. He opened his eyes, because they were closed from the kiss. “No” he thought. His hands had acted on their own accord. His hands. `no!'he thought. He didn't want to do this. `Stop!' he shouted to them, in his mind. `Stop!' his face the picture of shock, he could only stare, wide-eyed, at his hands clasped; clasped around the neck of his beloved. Her face contorted in pain as she struggled to pry his hands away. Red mouth open and gasping for air. “we will have blood!” the voices cackled. He couldn't stop. No. No. No. No. No. he must regain control! His eyes filled with tears and soon he was shouting “No!”over and over again at the top of his lungs as the laughing voices continued their happy chant. He looked down a few minuted later to find himself uncontrollably sobbing and cradleing his girlfriend in his arms. A mirror here, a lamp there, the vase that had once held his salvation; all shattered in the struggle. The voices continues to shout though. Hadn't they gotten what they wanted already he though grimly as he once again looked down. Wait. There was on comfort there. No red. No blood. During the struggle he had only strangled her and not shed her precious blood. He laughed to himself. He was tired. He would give them what they wanted, but he would not use her. He would not do that to her. He reached for a piece of glass from the broken mirror. Maybe they would finally calm down if he gave them his blood. He put the glass to his arm and felt the familiar sting of his flesh being cut. Oddly the pain brought on a sense of clarity to the horrible raucous that was going on in his head. He stared at the growing red stain and there was silence. He was tired. He smiled as he took the glass into the other hand and cut his other arm. It was cold, but he was too tired he thought as he dragged himself over to the now cold body of his lover and laid down next to her. He drifted away into a quiet, happy sleep. Never to wake again.