The prominent stench of Death was ever present in the tense atmosphere as a lone figure stood at the very center of the bloodbath. In his hand, clutched in a tight, unwavering grip, was a sword that adopted a near-crimson hue, due to the amount of blood that stained its sharp blade.
Heavy pants left his bruised, parted lips and his darkened eyes held an unquenchable need for murder and escape. To momentarily escape the harsh truth of the situation that reality had graciously bestowed upon him. He could care less for anything else at the moment.
He cared not for the people he had murdered in cold blood
He cared not for the mission he had, supposedly, successfully accomplished
He cared not for the newly-formed bruises and throbbing wounds that marred his exhausted body
No. His attention remained solely on the girl he had no choice but to leave in the other room. Her once-bright eyes were now a dull gray and ceaselessly haunted his conscience whilst her crimson blood would forever stain his memory.
Her death replayed itself over and over again in his mind, much like a broken record that refused to let him take a moment's rest, and sort out his thoughts with regards to the ordeal.
During that moment, faint ripples coursed through the puddles of blood, growing stronger and more prominent which each passing second. No sooner when the ripples come to an abrupt stop, did multiple roses, adorning a crimson hue of various shades, sprout from the puddles of blood.
They gave off a sweet and soothing fragrance that had a hint of a metallic, coppery scent.
In that moment, a lone tear escaped his eye, cascading down his bruised cheek and mixing with both his and his enemies' blood. As soon as it finally touched the bloodied pavement, the door to heart closed shut with a resounding bang and his mental walls were, once again, rebuilt.
To his utter surprise, a rose slowly bloomed from the area of which his tear had touched. Slowly, he bent down to gently pluck it from the pavement and drew it close to carefully examine it. He let his blade fall to the ground, momentarily discarded as his free hand reached out to caress the soft petals.
A Dual Colored Rose.
Black and White intertwined...
Just like how He and His Beloved had danced the night before.