Chapter Four

Something about a bright orange sunset brought about color to the old, gray, estate. It no longer seemed dull or prison like. If anything, it seems like the place is a chaotic splash of colors on a canvas.

Maids run about the place, each dressed in one of three colors: red, yellow, and green. Every step contains a dash urgency, panic occasionally showing on their worn faces. Though none of the maids looked to be very old, yet everything about them reeked of both age and greed. 

The residents of The Estate dressed rather extravagantly. The woman wore large, frilly dresses decked out in accessories, while the men wore complicated suits. Like the maids, each of the residents are dressed in one of the three colors. Each only talking to those who are similarly dressed. Successfully creating a clear divide among the people. Like this place is out of a different time.

"Did you hear? One of the twins are back." Gossips a blonde girl in yellow. She didn't know very much about the affairs of blue, but that didn't stop her lips from running. 

The small group of residents pause, turning their full attention to the girl in yellow. 

"Why only one?" They question unanimously before turning back to gossip amongst themselves. No one managing to notice the subject.

Waylen secretly watches the scene from beside the gate, his almond-colored eyes flickering. He wanted to know why too. Why only one? Feeling a familiar gaze, he rubs his finger along the blade of his knife. "Welcome Xavier."

Hearing the hypnotic voice, the silver haired man smiles. The smell of sweet blood permeates his nostrils, turning his eyes a stunning red. The blood smelled of pine, a scent nearly indistinguishable outside. A scent that made his heart speed. A scent so distracting he failed to realize the amnesiac referred to him by his given name. He wanted nothing more than to yank the blade away and impale it further into his fragile flesh. Stain his pretty face. Devour his false innocence. 

Noticing Xavier's odd fixation, Waylen laughs slightly. Retracting his finger back from the blade to the handle, he points it to the silver haired man's neck. An action that instantly grasped the attention of all.

Harming the head of red is the equivalent to a death sentence. A psychotic man who lives to please nobody but himself. A person who never once bothered to play by the rules, now had a knife to his neck. They must be dreaming, and it is most definitely a nightmare. What idiot choses death before the game even starts? Waylen Noel.

"Little amnesiac, did you not know your place?" Xavier asks with a sarcastic intonation, as if this whole thing is one massive joke. A joke only funny between the two of them. 

"Of course, look at your neck." He says, biting the side of his tongue. His eyes carrying a taunting gaze.

Bluish-purple marks in the form of fingerprints shone brightly on the man's pale, white flesh. Between the two of them, it is quite apparent who's worse off. Not to mention the inexplainable desire circulating his brain to further injure it. One bite. One cut. That's all it would take to satisfy him. The last few days have been pitted against him, at the very least let him have this. Secretly they both knew; he wouldn't be pleased until Xavier lied in a pool of his own blood. 

Xavier's mere presence made Waylen forget all about his sister. A girl nearly useless to the current affairs, only when Waylen is on the edge of insanity will her role become vital. Xavier smiles at his little plan. Seeing how the old caretaker is on board, what could go wrong? Even if he doesn't remember it, Waylen should have an ingrained hatred towards both him and red. 

"It isn't the ugliest thing you've left me." Xavier admits, triggering a strange look in Waylen. 

Some things are better left forgotten, a philosophy Waylen very much believes in. I guess he's very much a hypocrite. A charming smile escapes Waylen's face, a smile that looked pure. A smile so deceiving that if you hadn't personally witnessed the consequences, it would otherwise thrust you into oblivion. 

Tonight is the first night of the game. It would be a shame to waist the grand opportunity he's been presented. With the clap of his hands, Xavier solidified the attention of all in The Estate. Waylen had long hidden away the knife, pretending nothing had happened; acting as if it wasn't done in front of the entirety of the people residing here.

"I welcome Waylen to the color filled estate. As the first night of the game, what color shall we be?"

"RED!" Everyone shouts.

A shutter went down the maids back, each doing their best to quickly set up for dinner. God only knows what will happen if they make the residents impatient. 

"What color will we drink?"

"RED!"

"What color will we bleed?"

"RED!"

As if on cue, Waylen took a swipe at the charismatic, psychopath. "Certainly, red is the color we bleed." He thinks, before quickly hiding the knife away again.