Author's Note: written for the moonlight flower week 10, Blood Ties
Warning: Blood with dark imagery and mild sexual content
Red Realities
Blood, she was covered in it.
A splattered canvas for a ravenous painter, she couldn't even claim to be white. The world had quit thoroughly stained her in its horrors of monsters and things that creep in the dark, things that mothers told stories about to keep their children good and away from danger.
Monsters had fangs, claws, red eyes that burned your very soul that, if given the chance, would consume you whole. Dark creatures of the night who had walked beneath the full moon, they always waited just beyond the shadows.
But Rin was a good little girl, and like all good little girls, Rin would never walk in darkness and would always stay close to humans. Humans were safe; monsters were not.
There was so much blood, and she was covered in it.
It glistened beneath the moonlight and appeared black and smelled pungent, thick. Except…it wasn't her blood but theirs. The blood, that tied the mortal girl to the soft, the happy, and the warm and that sprang from primordial thoughts, was drained away. All that lingered was the air made of iron and the floor soaked with slick black that reflected pale shimmers. Life was lies. The creatures that creaked beneath the wood and tapped the panels outside were not the monsters in the stories but the humans who sought sinister glory.
Blood covered her.
The scents of fire and burning flesh possessed her. How could she have known that the remaining ashes symbolized such a fragile broken bond? Screaming to the heavens would not undo what had been done. No, screaming only brought the defilers towards you and not away.
In the darkness, evil could not find you; in the shadows, evil would walk past you and be unaware of how close he truly was to having you. Evil did not have claws, fangs, and red eyes, but he had teeth and fingers and eyes like so many others. There was no way to tell who he was and when he would come out—a stranger with the face of so many.
Blood…
And because she was covered in it, she would always be tied to him. A white creature resurrected her. The irony was that monsters called him evil. In a single hand, he carried her shivering soul away from the illusions of the light and into the depths of shadow. Now Rin will never claim to be white, because Rin will simply be good. And because she knows he does not kill without reason, she knows that he is not a monster—a spirit, yes, but never a monster.
Blood, and though she was not covered in it, he smelt it.
And because he knew that it was not the blood flowing out of fear but promises, he continued painting her body with soft words and warm touches. She was a perfect canvas. And if blood with its many layers was the medium to tie them together, so be it.