Diary Entry:

I was looking for red-dress for days, following the trail of corpses she left across town. In this place of gloom, grim and gore red-dress was the sun. It's been a while since I've seen a woman like her. Even at her current situation she could still make men blush and women turn with awe. She was tall and slim with golden curls falling on her milky shoulders, with fleshy red lips and big blue eyes. Her long red dress curled around her bare feet, torn from the decades but still holding on to that brilliant bright red color. On her neck, she had a rusty bite mark, from where the sickness took her over. The blood ran thick, black and dry and the smell was awfully foul. A silver jewel fell over her breasts; an old family crest a locket, catching the pale moonlight.

Red-dress was an angel in decay, and I felt sad for the angelic realm, for losing such a precious Jewel. I was only hoping that God was watching her, so that when her beauty is forever erased in this world, He will welcome her in the Heavens.

It's been a century since red-dress died, down at the old graveyard, made by the first settlers, her tombstone wrote 17-, beloved daughter and sister. Red-dress was nineteen when she died and in full bloom. But her flower weathered away in the winter of 17-, when a pandemic broke and had of the town's people perished to it. Of course, historians filed it as a plague, which started through during the civil war. It was nothing like a plague though; it was the work of one Necromancer and his rise to glory. Red-dress was one of his victims. But she slept, for centuries in her cold dark grave until now; the Necromancer returned and took over what he left half way.

Red-dress was raised from the grave along with a bunch of mummified corpses, but she was the only one who was granted beauty in death.

She was walking in the streets, alone and lost, dragging her red dress on the asphalt, surrounded by fog and mists. The rain started sizzling down, cold and chilling. She looked up, tilting her head on the side to watch the rain fall. She raised a hand, long finger with blackened fingertips to catch the drops. It seemed so unnatural to her, the rain, the fog the clouds, even the night. As if they were all supernatural things that shouldn't be happening.

I watched her from afar; over the rooftops of old buildings which survived from the early twenties after the earthquake. Most of the town was renovated now, the streets were oozing with cars and motorcycles, and these few old buildings were the only ones who kept a nostalgic feeling to this place, of old times past.

After a brief stop red-dress continued her death march. Moving slowly like a child taking her first steps, with spastic gestures to keep her balance. Her feet were like rubber, her entire body was fragile, she could easily fall down and break a bone, but since she was already dead, she would rise up and drag her broken limps till the end of the march.

I walked slowly following her, she was disoriented and couldn't understand what was going on around her, her mind was gone and idle, the only thing that kept her up on her feet was the Necromancer's magic. Underneath that body there was only dust and rusty bones.

She heard a sound coming from an alley; it caught her attention and stopped. She tilts her head on the side again curiously, watching the darkness spilling out of the alley. The top of a trash bin rolled out and a cat run before it. After a second she started moving again towards the alley. I could smell sweat and booze; someone was passed out among the trash. I run ahead, jumping over the rooftops and dropping in to the alley. It was nothing but an old man, with his drink in his hand and snoring like a beast. Red-dress showed up around the corner, moving slowly as always. Her dress brushing the ground and her bare feet tapping the brick alleyway.

I pushed the man out of the way and walked towards her. We stopped just a few feet away from each other and admired her angelic beauty one last time. She hissed as I unsheathed my sword with an incredible speed, like a big cat she run at me. It only took one swing to take the magic out of her. The blood splattered in the air like spring flowers. Red-dress dropped on the ground, blood spilling out darker than ever from her severed neck and she was no more. All colors disappeared as she dried out to a corpse. A little white shine, so tiny, as tiny as a star flew out of her chest, swirl around her and rose up to the sky hiding behind the clouds. I knew then that God was indeed watching after her, waiting for this moment to take her away back where she belonged.

I picked up her body and took her to the cemetery to bury her. The dress hadn't lost its color and even as the dirt fell on her, the dress stayed bright under the sand. When the grave was closed all the colors disappeared and the world turned grey again, sad and empty.

Igor tip toed towards me shyly, small and crouching as he walked and rubbing his hands. His curly hair falling over his deathly pale face and purple lips his eyes dark and shadowy. He was as grey as misery, with no light and no color on him. Centuries dead but still kicking like a mad man. Igor was forever with me, since I was a little girl. He always looked after me, always followed me around. But he was missing the colors of the world; he was missing that breath of spring, that light, that red color of life. Igor's soul though was pure and sometimes the light hides behind the darkness, behind a scale of grey and sometimes the darkness hides behind the light, in scales of brilliant bright colors.

'Master.' He said shyly, with his rusby voice, which sounded almost sinister and threatening. 'Shall I be some service to you?' he went out to reach for my sword, though I knew very well, despite his vampiric nature he couldn't lift a sword so big and heavy, yet he still tried and struggled with it, because he wanted to be some use to me.

'No Igor that'll be enough.' I said taking one last reminder of red-dress's tomb, 1886, beloved daughter and sister. Remembering I too had siblings once, sisters and brothers, which I loved and cherished, mourned and buried.

'Will the Master hunt the Necromancer now?' Igor questioned.

'No. Not yet.'

The silence was calming, relaxing. It fit perfectly well with this colorless world. I raised my head up and watched the clouds. Tiny snowflakes soon filled the air, tapping gently the ground. I watched the snow fall, remembering that I used to like the snow and the games we played when we were young. So…so young…such a long…long ago. I couldn't remember the colors of my childhood I could even remember the noise of those years. All I knew was that I wasn't that innocent child anymore, the one who dreamed and laughed for silly things. I couldn't even recognize myself in my own reflection. Many times, I wondered who's this thing staring back at me. What is this creature, this unnatural being? My own face became alien. I felt like another soul tossed in someone else's body, my real body gone, rotting away in some nameless grave.

'Master…' He reached out to touch me but in a breath, he pulled away frightened and shy. He was only a servant and I was the master.

The tapping of the snow was becoming louder and louder. Bang, bang like bombs falling. My eyes flickered with each sound. My heart trembled and I got angst. It was almost as if the ground was moving, cracking, breaking. Bang, bang. The snow kept falling and Igor's thick voice sounded from a distance as if miles away, coming from another world.

S.V.