Hmm….. Well, I've put off doing this fic for long enough!!! I've been thinking about
handing this in for my Literature Story Project but I don't know how my teacher will
react… The whole 1x2 thing and the whole making out scene I added… The project was
for me to write a Young Adult Novel (we had a discussion and I insisted I could do ANY
writing under pg- 13) (remember the Assassin that Could picture book I made *snigger*)
Do you think I should do it???
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!!!! Sorry this took so long!!!
Chapter 3: Crimson Walls: Part I
The drops of blood splattered onto the floor. The sound echoed in the unnatural silence of
the hallway around me.
Turning my hand upward, I looked at the palm of my hand. There was a gash in the
center of my palm. While I looked at it, the blood quickly oozed out and formed a small
puddle.
I returned my hand to my side, dispersing the accumulated blood and slowly stood up.
Knowing that it wouldn't matter, I wiped my hand off on my spandex. It wasn't as if
anybody who saw it would live to tell; and it was black anyways.
I took a step into the dark room and flipped the lights on. The lights turned on full force,
causing white and red spots to obscure my vision of the door across the room. After
blinking a few times the white spots disappeared but the red ones didn't.
Realization hit me and I wished I hadn't turned the lights on. I wasn't seeing things and
the wall wasn't red. Instead, there were massive amounts of blood sprayed against the
wall. More like a few metallic spots were scattered among walls of pure crimson red.
I felt a wave of nausea pass over me. I felt dizzy. Everywhere I looked was stained with
blood.
The blood itself only slightly made me uncomfortable. It was a war. Bloodshed was
imminent. It made my job easier. Dead enemies. But these thoughts didn't ease, the pain
of older and harsher memories the blood resurfaced.
I looked at down at my hands. They were covered in blood. I could see the blood stream
off in small bloody rivers. Not my own blood, but the blood of all the innocent children I
killed. Especially the little girl I killed. The one that knew exactly where she was in life,
the one that deserved to live instead of me… So many years ago, but the memory still
fresh in my mind. It was long past, but still there was fresh blood staining my hands.
I blinked once. Twice. The blood disappeared.
I looked at the walls. The blood was still there. I blinked, once, twice and three times.
The walls were as red as ever.
Bloody… walls…
Ignoring the onslaught of memories I studied the room. There was long mahogany table
in the middle, papers and briefcases still spread on the surface. Leather recliners circled
around the table. The most disturbing sight of all was the Oz soldiers' dead bodies
scattered across the room.
There must have been 15 of them. There were some collapsed in the corners of the room,
they must have too afraid to even attempt an escape. There was one especially gruesome
corpse that caught my attention. It was an Oz soldier, lying face down with an
outstretched arm reaching for the door. He almost made it… there was as a large hole in
his head. His face was lying in a growing puddle of his own blood and brain matter.
Another horrible sight was at the table. A body lay stomach down in the center of the
mahogany table. The face unnaturally twisted, and it's face etched into a gruesome
scream and it's unseeing eyes stared at the ceiling.
I looked down at the body in front of me. He had been stabbed in the back, and fell
backwards, further impaling himself. The sharp bloody edge of the knife jutted out of his
chest.
It was the knife that cut me.
That bastard better not have had aids…
You could never know with the kind of people fighting for Oz…
I felt a weird sense of familiarity when I looked at the knife. Then again it could be the
blood that covered it or maybe even the corpse underneath it. It's for the mission I
assured myself as I reached down and flipped the dead body on to its stomach. I grabbed
the handle of the knife and pulled on it. At first it got stuck on something; probably bone,
and then it easily slid out.
Reaching down I grabbed a handful of the Oz uniform that wasn't covered in blood and
cleaned off the knife.
The edge was dangerously sharp; it could cut through skin without even applying
pressure. The small button revealed that it was a switchblade. The sinister feeling in the
pit of my stomach grew and grew. Knowing what would come next, I slowly flipped the
handle; so I could clearly see the other side.
Sure enough, in small silver letters the words "Death do us part" were engraved there.
'Duo'. The name alone could mean so many different things to me.
Right now it meant fear. 'Duo wasn't supposed to be here…'
'What is that baka thinking?'
'Death do us part' It held different meanings for Duo. Death has always followed him
wherever he went. It was a secret wish that death would stop striking at everyone he
loved. The fact that it was carved on a knife was also symbolic. Duo felt like he was tied
to every hateful soul in the war. He blamed himself for soiling the innocence of fathers,
brothers or sons with the war. To him death held release. So using the knife, he released
tortured souls into the Great Beyond. Death held release for both of us. I guess he figured
that my time hasn't come up yet. Gods of Death always have had a unique sense of logic.
Especially Duo.
'I should get this knife back to Duo. Then I should get him the hell out of here.'
I slipped the knife into my pocket. I staggered another step, my body unwilling to go any
further into the room. The stench of blood and decay were overwhelming. Using a chair
as footing, I didn't see the dead body until it was too late; I leaped over the table.
I approached the second door, walking over the bloody mess in front of it. The door was
also left open, and the lights were off.
This was extremely weird of Duo. He usually—'Shut Up!' Duo this, Duo that, you sound
like some pathetic middle school boy! You're endangering this mission already. What if a
soldier was to happen across Wing? Your precious gundam would be in the hands of the
enemy! Goodbye peace and victory!
Duo might be dead…
Excuses, excuses… you're just trying to see him. Again I wondered when had I developed
arguments with myself. Again I was met with the answer 'when I first met Duo', the
problem was, I was still denying it. Probably a side effect from the training Dr. J gave
me… Ah, a lot of emotional damage could be accounted for by the bastard J. For me my
emotions are really my weakness. There's really nothing else left to do than dispose of my
weaknesses…no matter how and what it is…
Duo… is he one of my weaknesses? Am I supposed to dispose of him?
With one swift kick I opened the door. In my hand was a machine gun I'd picked up from
a soldier. I could barely make out a narrow hallway.
I was used to darkness and I quickly found the light switch and turned it on. The lights
took a few moments to come alive, and when it did, it looked light it was about to go out
at any moment.
Every second the lights would turn off, then sputter back to life. It added a feeling of
anticipation to the heavy blanket of unnatural silence. I could feel the hairs on the back of
my neck involuntarily rise.
'What is this? The all-perfect Yuy is afraid of the dark?' my inner-mind taunted.
It wasn't the dark. I usually felt more comfortable in the dark than in the light. I could
feel Goosebumps rise up and down my arms…
Something's wrong… Duo's in trouble…
Stumbling a little, I took off at a run. I expertly turned sharp corners, avoided dead bodies
and hurtled through doors, letting my instinct guide me.
After what seemed like hours, I came to stop in front of a door. This one was closed, and
I just knew that Duo would be in there. I reached for the doorknob. Doing so, I caught
sight of my arm. It was covered in a slight film of perspiration. That's not normal; I can
run 3 miles before breaking into a sweat. I wiped my arm against my forehead, and
realized that it was also sweating. Not normal sweat but a cold one.
A little sweat never stopped me before…that was true. Falling off a building, breaking my
leg, getting shot twice couldn't stop me. Dismissing my abnormal condition, I quickly,
but also effortlessly silent, opened the door.
My heart skipped a beat…
Hah!!!!! Chapter 4 wasn't supposed to end there, but I didn't want to upload the entire
chapter!! Hah!!!!! Warning: The gore from this part also continues in the second part.
Who likes the title Crimson Walls? I like it. But the stupid thing is, I make up mediocre
chapter titles but the complete story title really Really sucks!!!