RED

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Almost everything was red.

The same red as when you close your eyes tightly on a sunny day: the red of someone who seeks darkness.

Almost everything was red, with flames.

The green flames seemed to burn with poison, or something just as dangerous with an enhanced color. They were tall.

Almost everything was red, but everything was visible.

The elongated shadows of bat creatures and human creatures, were the shadowy creatures that inhabited that ritual place.

Almost everything was red, except what was black.

The letters drawing their name with recognizable spelling, as dark and demarcated as everyone's dead eyes.

Everything remained red, even when Damian turned and ran away from that altar. He ran without even knowing where he was standing — or why he no longer had a cast on his leg. He ran until he had nowhere else to run, to the end of a cliff facing the setting sun.

Everything was still red.

The land, the sea, the clouds and the seagulls.

Of the gulls, one was redder. It was even bigger.

It was large because it was not a seagull, but it had wings — wings of a bat, or a dragon, or any fierce animal that has fangs, from which the gargoyles are inspired. A deadly animal, which like any other animal must have been a friendly puppy.

The living gargoyle, red, looked like a Goliath-spider. The Goliath flew to one of the trees, rested on the earnings and was delighted with the fruits. It did not appear to be dangerous, but no spider is dangerous with the proper distance.

The tops of the trees and the foliage on the ground were gray.

Damian got a little closer, he wanted to hide and go deeper into that neutral color just because he was neutral — because he didn't want red anymore.

Sneaking through the bushes, there were statues of fish with their mouths up. Large gray statues with red spots. The statues, misshapen, looked dead — perhaps killed by the red stains. Also deformed were the humanized forms that were reluctant to approach, hidden behind the statues.

They were versions of himself: lost, crooked, who had nowhere else to fit.

Anomalous, such as him.

However, before Damian could get close to his brothers, children of the red who were hiding in the gray, everything broke in half. The red of the sky met the red of the sea that cut the red of the earth.

Almost everything was red.

Human creatures with long cloaks, with shadows that protruded under red, the creatures wore green.

The poison green was dangerous.

The red was blood.

The gray was no longer there.

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NOTE

I am not good with nightmares, usually mine consist of absurdly strange dreams (like one in which my cat learned to ride a bicycle and was hit by a jet-ski...). So, in the inability to describe a good nightmare, I made the craziest interpretation I could of the following material:

Robin, the Son of Batman (chapter 2, page 6)

Robin, the Son of Batman (chapter 2, page 5 and chapter 5, page 7)

Robin, the Son of Batman (chapter 6, pages 21 and 7)

Robin, the Son of Batman (chapter 5, pages 5 and 6)

Robin, the Son of Batman (chapter 5, pages 13, 14 and 15)

I think you could see what I was reading at the time, right?

Note of Note: in the original, in Portuguese, red is "vermelho", which combines with several words with "v" that are