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Red and Sweet

One day Kai woke up and knew that something was wrong. He just wasn’t sure what. It was a strange feeling that got in his throat, but not that bittersweet thirst he felt most of time, no: calling it asphyxiation was more close than the urge of drinking something he could not give a name. Then a man entered in his bedroom and called him “son”. What could be completely normal if the only memory that Kai has is the one in which he murders his own father.

Writing_A_Crime · Seram
Peringkat tidak cukup
2 Chs

One Weird Man

He calls me son and guides me to the dark corridors of the old house. My bared feet tremble each step, one, then another, with a heavy breath stuck in my lungs. My pale hands are nervous, grabbing themselves, then putting the nail in the flesh, wounding this almost purplish skin of mine.

"Son." He stops walking with no warning, scaring me in the last moment. I stare at the tall man with eyes wide open. It is dark, but I am very capable of distinguishing his cheekbones and heavy eyebrows between the night shadows.

"Yes?"

He blinks, taking his time to observe me again. I swallow and my hands stop moving. Like a statue, waiting.

"Do you enjoy seafood?"

I was expecting a weird question, or at least a very melancholic statement. But even with the terrifying expectation, it's on the edge of obscene.

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, father."

He smiles. White weird fangs that shine in the dark. A cold wind tremble the small light that comes from the lonely candle far away. He turns back to the path, a crooked figure in the dark.

"You are going to love the food that is served here. It's simply delicious, even heavenly."

I don't answer. My tongue is burning with my own saliva.

He keeps walking in the shadows, then the small candle reaches us and after one second it's behind me. We are fast, what makes my stomach sick. If I could, I would run back to my bedroom.

The corridors open to a curled staircase. Here is light coming from the glass ceiling in which the moon shines in all the glory that it deserves. "We are close now." He says and goes down the stairs. I wait several instants before following. The wood creaks with each step. The high when I look down gives me nausea.

He arrives before me at the final of the stairs. "You are an old man, I see." His laugh goes to everywhere, echoing and climbing the walls like little demons of hell. "Come on, son. You must eat like a king tonight."

"What if I am not hungry?" I ask, hesitating with a heavy breathing. "What if I want to go back to sleep?"

His eyes shine and again the smile stares at me with its wickedness.

"No sleep for you now. We have work that must be done."

He walks away and I am too terrified to stay or go back. There are sounds that come from inside the walls in this house. Or should I call it a mansion? A castle? Maybe a rotten lair dressed in fake splendor.

After a time, we finally arrive in a room that smells like food in every corner. Here is a table with plates full of extravagant seafood dishes, oysters, crabs, squids, everything. It's like the very own ocean have taken out a part of itself for our mouths and tongues and pleasure.

"Take a seat." The man asks, no, orders, with his eyes on me like a predator. I obey. No words are necessary for me while my hands move a chair. He keeps staring until I am with hands on my legs, waiting. Then he moves closer, smiling again. "Tell me, what do you wish for now?"

I look at the table and then at him. There is no hungry, only the wish of being alone in a quiet room. "I don't know."

The man's smile intensifies. "Tell me, son. What do you crave for?"

My hands start to shake again. I try to control them, but he notices. "Why are you trembling? Are you perhaps scared of your own father? Or maybe is the hungry… yes. There is no other way, right, son of mine?"

I swallow. Then move my head to the other side. "Right, father."

The word feels weird in my tongue. Disgusting, even. Life a slug sliding between teeth.

This man is not my father.

But when I woke up from a long night of sleep, he was there and he called me "son". With a tender smile full of his fangs, he sank his bony fingers in my hair. And I could do nothing beside being quiet. "Do you remember something?" He asked, helping me being on my feet. And then it came to me that no, I did not had one single memory.

Unless one.

My father.

Not this man. My true father. I don't know his name or what he did in life, but I remember having a father of flesh and bones. He had black hair and used glasses. And in the only memory I had, he was in my arms, choking in his own blood.

Dying.

By me.

I am a murderer. A first class killer.

And maybe this is divine punishment, I don't know. Maybe it's justice being made. Locked away with a stranger that calls me son and threatens me with his eyes.

But I am incapable of avoiding the fear.

The man starts putting food on my plate. "Take it, son." He pierces me with sight, searches the soul in me with eager. This man knows. I am sure of it. He knows that I know he is not my father and nothing else.

"Eat."

It's an order. Not a request, not a polite task he asks for. He waits. Under his eyesight I must take the fork and drive the food to my mouth. Silence. My teeth crushes the squid, sauce spreading in my tongue. A cold shiver goes down my spline.

"Everything good, son?"

The man is smiling. It takes almost half of his face this weird thing full of fangs he shows to me. "Look at my eyes, child."

I obey.

But my stomach is a mess, my mouth is burning. This food has taste of rotten.

"Son. Tell me. Is it delicious?"

I try to swallow. I really try it. But my eyes are now full of tears and my mouth full of saliva. I can't chew anymore. I…

He laughs. And this time is pure horror. Something out of a terror tale, those stories that parents use to scare children. The mister with the bag. Boogeyman. He is part of those childhood monsters. And so close to me that I can smell his undead's perfume.

"Can't you eat?" He asks between spams of wicked joy. "My, my…"

I can't stand it anymore. The food gets out with terrible sounds. I shake, leaning elbows on the table. His laughter intensifies. "FOR THE DEMONS!" He screams of happiness. "LOOK AT YOU! YOU CANNOT EAT!"

Tears of fear slide down my cheeks. I stop vomiting. It's hard to breath. Like the floor is out and there is nowhere to put your feet on.

"Son, son, son…" he comes closer, but I move away. My attitude lets him with no expression for several seconds. "What is this? Come here, boy. Come to me."

I try to run, but in a blink he grabs my arms. "Let me go!" I cry out, struggling agains him. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" My screams echoes in the room, but the man is made of something more fierce than stone.

"My little boy. Do not be afraid. Be here, with me. Look at me."

His words are peaceful, like he is trying to put me to sleep. Like an enchanting. A lullaby. "Leave me…"

But suddenly the world shakes and I am in the other side of the room. A scream leaves my mouth too late. My back collide against the cold wall, the body that I called mine discovering the toughness of the floor. Darkness. Everything is a blur, an illusion. Bones that crumble like sand. The little that I knew becoming stars that got dismissed in the virtuoso sky.

I am so astonished of what happened that I don't hear his steps as he approaches. The cold bony hand gabs my neck with no sound. I gasp with the harsh movement.

"Son." His voice echoes in me. "Don't act so foolish."

Then I am up, even if I feel that I can fall. I close my eyes, in anguish. He is so close that his rotten breath wants to get inside my skin.

"Son." The man calls me again. "Open your eyes. Now."

I don't want to, but no voice can be found in me. My lips tremble.

A thunder breaks the sky in two.

Then a sweet essence gets in the air. Something I wasn't expecting for, a little gift that gets to me. The impulse of the delicious smell makes me open my eyes with vibrant anxiety. I see red. And I see his fangs.

"Drink, son." The man whispers in my ear. "Drink all you want, until you are a monster just like me."

His words makes no sense as the world concentrates on the red liquid falling from his hand. My mouth is dry. I want what he offers, like I am a man lost in desert.

Give me that.

Give me more.

I go after his hands, not understanding what my own body craves for. The taste of silver goes to my tongue and everything falls apart. Who I am. What I remember.

And then, when I am locked in this sweet ecstasy, licking his savage wound, it hits me.

Blood.

I am drinking blood.

Like a beast with no education. A wild animal that found their prey. Blood.

BLOODBLOODBLOODBLOODBLOOD.

And again shadows surrounded me like an old sweet friend that came back.