Prologue: Of Blood Red Rubies

Keena drew her bright red cloak around herself, chilled not by the mist which made it through the canopy, but the feeling of being stalked. Hunted like game. A mouse in the eyes of a hungry cat.

She felt that the gift from her mother was making her stand out. Which it was. The bright red cloak clashed so loudly with the surrounding forest that you'd have to be an actually blind bat not to see it.

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Memories are memories.

Wind is wind.

But both are the same.

Once those who felt it have gone,

so have they.

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"N-no, Clarke, she's just twelve, she'll make friends! C-can't you take that back?" Keena kept her eyelids in rest position. Her mother was talking to the village's spokesman and leader in hushed and hissed words, to hide them from… Her?

"Marla, there's been younger. I'm sorry, but she's useless. No good will come from keeping this cloak off of her." What where they talking about?

"Clarke!" Marla's voice broke. Keena's eyes where half open, it made it easier to think that way. Was her mother laughing? No… was she crying? Why? ... "She's our only child!" Marla sat in the extra chair for guests kept next to the door, sobbing into her hands.

Clark Mitish had done this twice before, such an awful thing to have to do. But Keena had to go. She was the outcast of Kulra Village. She would cause nothing but trouble if left alone. She had problems far worse than the other two, ten and twenty years ago.

"… Marla, there's more, let's talk outside."

The girl who was feigning sleep listened through the walls, but only being able to hear the deep rumbling of Mr. Mitish's words, began to drift back into slumber.
"DOLLS!? You're going to do this because she plays with dolls! YOUR daugh-"

"These aren't normal dolls your daughter plays with, Marla!" Clarke had to yell to break through Marla's rage, every word echoing through the pitch-colored night in the village.

Keena looked like she was being strangled, her eyes bulged and she made pitiful noises when she tried to breathe. Her dolls! How could have anybody have found out! They hadn't worked anyhow, Neim, that horrible girl, was still fine, unlike the doll with a lock of her hair attached. The doll had several holes in it, singe marks on all the limbs, and had been cut open, the stuffing spilling out into the bottom of the jewelry box Keena had it, and several others, hidden away in.

Keena was finally able to take a full breath. She slid her legs over the side of her mattress, and soon she was on the floor, looking under her bed, searching among the junk and rubble. Keena was silent, their home only had three rooms, Keena sleeping in the largest along with the kitchen and dining area, she didn't want her mother to find her looking for her dolls.

The twelve-year-old pulled her jewelry box from under her bed with both hands and opened it, to lift out the false bottom meant for hiding important jewels, which Keena didn't own.

Slowly Keena put the jewelry box back under her bed and climbed back into her warm spot. She knew why Mr. Mitish was at her home. She was going to be punished for trying to punish Neim.

Keena silently cried herself back to sleep, the soft sounds of her mother and Clarke speaking playing parts in her dreams.

Sitting under Keena's sleeping form the cherry wood box stood with its true bottom empty, only a few strands of hair left within.

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A gift is a great thing,

unless it brings death.

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Keena awoke to her mother, who was wearing a fourth-hearted smile. The girl felt like she had lead chains wrapped around her insides. What was going to happen next? How would she be punished?

"Keena, I have a present for you." Marla's smile widened, but her eyes had the look of unbridled sorrow. She looked tired and defeated.

"Mama, a present?" It was all a dream wasn't it? Just a bad dream, a warning perhaps. Keena would get rid of the dolls later that day.

"Y-yes, a red cloak. You're to go pick the Ruby Fruits from the forest. For the festival in two days." Marla spoke in odd fragmented sentences. It was creepy. The woe-burdened mother held up a piece of cloth which looked as if it had been dyed with crushed pomegranate.

"Mama! It's so pretty!" Keena took the cloak from her mother's hands, lost in its color.

Neim had always had the honor of picking the bright fruits from the forest, but not even she got such a wonderful cloak, hers was always so drab and green. Such a cheap color.

Keena was quick to wrap the cloth around her body and stand from her bed and look at herself.

"I'll go get you a basket. Get dressed. I'm sure people'll want to see you off, hon." Marla was still speaking in broken phrases. Odd. The mother went to shuffle through the contents of a cabinet as Keena quickly got dressed in a blue dress that was a favorite of hers, and who's light color wouldn't fight with the bright red upon her back.

Marla handed her daughter an average whicker basket, Keena had been hoping for a prettier one like the one that Neim always got to bring along with her, to come back with it overflowing with the lovely round Ruby Fruits Kulra and the Murandi festival where known for.

Taro entered the room from his and Marla's bedroom, giving his daughter a look, a look Keena had never seen before. What was that about?

"Marla, she'll need a lunch to eat, don't want her to stain her dress indulging on those fruits." Taro left the house, not having looked at his wife when he had spoken to her. His voice, a monotone where the statement would have usually been ended with a loving chuckle. And such words. They didn't sound like him at all.

Keena's eyes had gone from the shut door, to her mother, who was giving it a gaze which could melt rock and freeze fire at the same time. Even weirder.

It startled Keena when her mother suddenly stomped into their kitchen, opening another cabinet to pull out a loaf of bread. The good kind with the sunflower seeds imbedded within. Marla seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before hurriedly opening up a drawer to pull out a knife. Not a knife to cut bread, a knife to hack at meat. That surprised Keena even more.

The girl watched her mother look around for something else and Keena went to the table, placing her basket next to her place at the four-legged woodwork. Marla had found whatever she had been looking for.

"Here, hon. Bring your basket here." Marla was shaking, but steadied herself on the counter as her obliging daughter got close enough to see. She took the basket from her daughter placing within the basket the loaf and knife, both wrapped in a large cloth napkin, and a flask of water, it was a cheap one, but worked well.

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A journey which begins with sorrow

can only end with sorrow.

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Keena heard something other than rustling leaves in the breeze swimming under the dismally gray sky. The sharp crack of a twig crushed underfoot, and it wasn't under Keena's foot, for sure. Having been terrorized by the feeling of being watched her entire trek to the Ruby Fruit Tree, Keena was quick to reach into her basket, without having the luxury of seeing what she was doing while she was looking about for the cause of the noise she flailed her hand about until the bread, and blade, were free of the napkin, she grasped the handle, but kept her hand inside her basket.

It could tell she'd knew she was being watched the entire time, but now it cursed itself, knowing it'd put her on edge. It stood off the winding trail watching the dancing red cloak through the leaves hanging about. Soon the blotch of color in the brown and green landscape began to move, tentatively at first, but soon back to a self-assured gait.

Then she began to run, haphazardly, not wanting to lose its meal, it sped up to match, twigs cracking seemingly every step.

Somebody was out there! Now she was sure, Keena had decided to run to see if something was following her. And there was, she could hear heavy foot-falls behind her, but they seemed to be paced, like a trained athlete racing a wobbly, short-legged two-year-old. Her wonderful cloak was slowing her down; it was wet now, as the rain had grown in intensity.

Keena dropped her basket, keeping only her knife, fumbling with the bow which held her cloak around her neck, until she was freed of its weight as it was blown behind her by the wind and her own momentum.

Suddenly there were two. Red and blue. They both stood out against the saturated bark and leaves that served for a backdrop. Blue kept on going forward, but Red seemed to have decided it best to head back towards the pitiful village. Blue rushed forward, but Red seemed to be suddenly indecisive and just stood, motionless. All the better, it would go after the Blue one next.

It jumped from its hidden position off the trail, going from two limbs to four, lunging at the red splotch of color in the forest. Expecting meat and bone between its jaws the beast bit hard, coming only onto its own fang, air, and cloth, also, its weight on the cloak, having been caught by a branch, brought the beast toppling onto the soggy, muddy, rotten-leaf covered ground.

Then it heard the real girl in blue run past the beast, off the trail, having doubled back. It untangled itself from the red fabric it had wrapped its arms around just before biting.

It had been snarling, but as it stood, it roared in pain and anger, all of its teeth feeling like they had shattered into dust. Unfortunately for Keena, they where all intact.

Keena ran, knife in hand, normally, she would have been worried about impaling herself with it, but she had a bigger problem, and this one could chase her. Thrashing through the forest, trying to stay parallel to the path, the horrible sound of the beast's roar just egged her on. Was this why her mother had cried last night? Was this why everybody had seemed so solemn when they saw her off to go collect the Ruby Fruit? The cloak wasn't from Marla; it was from Clarke, it was what her mother had wanted him to take back. Neim's drab cloak suddenly made sense. There was a monster in the woods. Keena's mind raced with her heart, mind and body fighting for importance.

All of this was because of the dolls? They'd been harmless! Who could have found them? Who could have found them that would have told Clarke? Keena's eyes welled up, blurring her vision in the dark, wet, forest.

The only one who could have done it… it couldn't have been her mother; she had acted like Clarke was crazy at the mention of dolls. The only other person who had been in their house since three days ago. The day Keena had given up on her dolls her cousin Micca had given her and taught her to use the last time she had been over. The day she had put them away for good.

Taro. Her father.

At first hateful thoughts towards her father spewed forth from Keena's mind, but she became riveted to the thought of her cousin, why wasn't she out here running from this monster? Micca had the same dolls. Micca had friends that knew about the dolls. Micca had friends. That was it. Keena had no friends, well; she had a half-friend named Illa. She was nice to Keena, but not a friend. The girl openly sobbed while she ran, was it really all because she was alone? Because nobody cared?

Although it was almost blind, the beast could follow the sounds of the panicked girl, or the trail as it seemed she was following the soggy path. Soon it could see her blue form rushing along, even through the, what was now panes of water, which acted as cloudy windows for all. It passed her; she couldn't make it to Kulra, no matter what. The beast turned around and suddenly lunged again, having been expecting a head in its claws the beast was disappointed by the fact it'd only slashed open a leg.

Keena had heard it pass her, she'd immediately stopped, and it'd saved her life, but not her leg.

She screamed, but not in pain, but at the sight of the monster before her, she hadn't stopped to look at it before, putting getting away before knowing what she was getting away from. The beast had a large pair of horns, and its eyes were clouded over, opaque and almost white, like a dead person, but its head was not that of a person, but that of an angry bull. Except it looked like it'd run into a brick wall, until it busted through before hitting another four. Thick fur covered the entire beast but its arms, which where a horrid mess of flesh, bulging at places arms aren't meant to bulge, veins pulsing so hard its hands rhythmically swung with the beat..

Keena's leg didn't support her anymore, and she fell backwards. Suddenly, after having stood, looking at the girl for a few precious moments, it sprang forward, its claws puncturing Keena's abdominals. She was going to die. Keena knew it. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the screaming pain from her leg, and now her stomach. Her whole body tensed, and her hand hurt, had she cut it too while she had ran for safety? No ... Her hand!

Pain ripped through the beast's thoughts, the hand it had planned to grab hold of the girl's head, to break her neck, grasped the limb it was using to pin the girl, that arm, which suddenly tensed, spelt bad news for the girl, claws ripping through flesh into a fist. The girl screamed in pain, but it was drowned out by the beast's own pain-caused screech. Where its hand had sized its arm, was a huge slice. The girl grasped the knife, and with two hands dragging the blade down through the meat, had already left the blood-spitting spot the creature was grasping at, the blue, and now also red, girl pulled the knife towards herself until she came to a point where the taper in its arm freed the blade.

Keena dropped the knife, and clutched at the arm jammed into her stomach, she'd aimed for its chest, but her pain had caused her to miss. Keena had long begun to cry, she was falling backwards from her semi-upright position, whimpering, but the beast caught her head in mid-fall. Suddenly Keena was more religious than the entire village of Kulra combined. She prayed to her gods to save her, and was answered! A great flash of light, followed by a thunderous roar from the heavens. Suddenly, Keena was hopeless, her body was already limp.

Lightning. The storm.

In rage and pain the Minotaur slammed the girl's head into the ground. And then again, and again, until it stopped, it had heard and felt the hunger. Ignoring its own pain, the beast pulled its arm, which had gone limp for all the muscle that had been cut, from the girl, the other releasing the obliterated head to reach for an arm, but, before stopping to grasp the knife, and then the arm in the same hand. It dragged the poor corpse onto the trail, and then to the Ruby Fruit Tree.

It was a large tree, although not towering tall; it spread out, its fruit hanging from the bottom branches, shimmering in the rain. The Minotaur used the girl's own weapon to cut out her heart, and buried it, about three feet down and near a gigantic root. Almost as soon as it had filled the narrow pit back in, the spot glowed for a moment.

Another five hundred Ruby Fruit would come from that, the lovely, forever fresh fruits, all of which born from the heart of a bearer of a red hood.

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Feeding something for food.

Isn't there something drastically wrong

with that?

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