Of Prophecies and Lies
Allence of the Weed
Disclaimer: None that is in this world is ours to have and to own. Even the lives we are using are not ours to waste. It belongs to the Painter of the Universe, the Almighty Father.
Nota Bene: The italicized sentences are either for the character's thoughts or for emphasis. Statements enclosed in parentheses (( )) are for Kitri's vision.
Prologue
Inevitable Prevention
I am the nymph of error, the fairy of the dead. I am the princess of evil, the queen of damnation. Behold the goddess of morbidity that comes before you. Flashing an undecipherable smile, I face the gloomy day. Perplexity and twisted philosophies are family and total darkness completes me. I eat pessimism for breakfast, paranoia for lunch, and phobias for dinner. Unbearable silence, mixed with chocolate syrup and cream, is what I call desert. I drink a man's blood every chance I get. Sadistic motives are frequent visitors in my bloody head and wickedness is all that surrounded me. I am a nut, a very disturbed nut.
The heavy rains outside did not hinder tranquility to reign inside the women's dormitory that evening. Despite the frequent sudden flashes of lightning that were visible through the stained glass windows, everyone was sound asleep in their respective rooms except for one.
I am the strangest among the strange, the meanest of the mean. I am the loneliest of the loners, the quietest among the quiet. I am the darkest among the dark, the scariest among the scary. I love being me, and then I start to hate myself. I never understood the purpose of my existence, why my mother even chose to let me live.
Disturbed thoughts, black and white dreams, and surrealism, all embodied the troubled teen by the name of Kougane Kitri, a college sophomore. To the eyes of the conventional, she was a plague sent from the Underworld, a disoriented damsel. She seldom spoke to anyone, which added an extra factor why people thought of her as scary and mysterious. To a literary writer, she was a journal, forever safe in the arms of its owner.
I am an unfinished book, a faded painting, and a long forgotten hymn. If I were a cherry blossom tree, I would be the one shedding crimson petals to represent bloodshed. If I were an iris, I would be as wilted as those in the painting of Van Gogh. I feel rotten and worthless. I feel no life at all.
However, in the eyes of one man, she was the best thing that had ever happened, a blessing from the heavens. She was a princess, an angel, a child—so fragile and kind.
Behind my eyes of crimson and amethyst is monotony. Behind my brunette locks is life imprisonment. Behind this fragile frame is a monster, ready to attack anytime, anywhere it pleases. Behind this damsel is negation. Yet it all amounts to beauty that only one man sees.
A loud knock reverberated inside the room.
"Speak." Kitri coldly uttered, trying to concentrate with what she loved to do—schoolwork.
"Remember Kitri, it's not nice to be cold." A voice floated along with the joining of multitudes of molecules in the ridiculously cold air.
The young woman turned round to see who was at the door only to find out that it was the least person that she wanted to see.
"Oh, it's you." She could only sigh heavily. "What brings you here?"
It shook his head. "You're being cold again, O-hime. You act as if we haven't known each other since you were little." It told her as he sauntered towards Kitri's desk to see what she was doing. "Schoolwork again, eh?" it mumbled as he examined what Kitri was reading. "I won't be surprised if you'd be single for the rest of your life."
Irritated from the disturbance made by it, Kitri slammed her right palm on one of her textbooks, lying on her desk. "Listen, for all I care, I don't need anybody to complete me, and if you aren't going to help me with school work you are free to step out of my room." Losing the mood to continue doing her schoolwork, she closed her books and neatly placed them on the side of her desk.
"Now, now, Kitri, you must not forget who raised you up to a wonderful lady that you are."
"You need not to remind me of my roots, thank you." She said in reply to what it told her. "And besides, I don't even know your sexual orientation, so please, make up your bloody mind."
Upon hearing the somewhat offensive statement from the damsel, it considered as its child, it studied its androgynous physique. It had eyes of golden brown, shaped like that of a woman, but its fierceness was that of a man. Its hair was long, jet black, and flowing, making it look like a woman, but it looked like a man when one tied its hair in a neat ponytail. It had a flat chest, but surprisingly, it was incapable of reproduction. Its voice belonged to a damsel even with the visibility of its Adam's apple. It smiled.
"That was the most hurtful comment I have heard in the entirety of my life." Kitri could only snort at that statement.
As it studied the crimson bedroom of its child, it noticed the peculiar staring of Kitri at a photograph resting on the body of her lampshade. It seemed to be a stolen shot of someone. "Ah, so this must be the one who invades your mind with worthlessness." It took the picture to take a closer look.
"What are you doing? Give it back!" Kitri made an effort to stand and retrieve the photograph only to find her self glued on her bed, locked within the clutches of its dark magic.
As it premeditated on the photograph—typical studious type of a man, bespectacled, smiling, and gentle—it smiled, the kind that suggested something vile. Kitri sensed it and made another effort to release her self from its spell.
"He looks harmless; however I don't like his effect on you." With a snap, the photograph turned to ashes, gracefully landing on its pale hand.
"Iie," was the only word that came out from Kitri's mouth as her eyes widened in disbelief. Then a sudden flash of events gobbled every single brain cell of Kitri. A very gory, yet saddening movie aired.
(Crimson lights shone brightly that night, that cold and lonely night.
There an imp stood before an angel, holding his final breath
With words uttered and every drop of the most precious liquid trickling
The day ended mercilessly, the vile winning.)
"IIE!" Kitri managed to scream, finally releasing her self from what she called dreamland. "You're going to kill him, don't you?" She guessed, glaring at it.
It grinned creepily at her. It slowly walked towards her, seductively caressing her angry face. "Now, now, dear princess, you know very well that I am the only one who can be trusted in this filthy planet. I am your life, your master, your keeper, your only friend..." it moved its face closer to Kitri's until it could feel its cheek on hers as it gently rubbed its cheek to hers. "Ne, Kitri-chan?"
"You are a monster, a very merciless monster." Kitri said in between light breaths.
"I love it when you say that." In an instant, it vanished beside Kitri, reappearing at the door. "Now, excuse me. I have a job to fulfill." Before that statement was over, it dissipated into thin air again, only its grim laugh emanated the once tranquil crimson room. Along with its disappearance, the dark magic that held Kitri for some time lost its effect. Tears started to trickle not because of sadness. All that was in her mind was preventing it from fulfilling the gravest prophecy that she, the young prophetess, prophesied.
Gomen nasai, Kogure-kun, but this is only to save you. In a flash, the prophetess also faded. The once tranquil crimson room was now empty.