A Darker Shade Of Red

By Melanie E.

A note of caution: this is a much, MUCH MUCH, darker piece than I typically write. I may even take it down eventually, and I'm definitely not linking it to the rest of my stories. So, be forewarned.

—

To say she was surprised by the outcome would be a lie. Upset, yes. Disappointed, even. Surprised, no.

She had learned a long time ago never to be surprised by a worst case scenario.

In truth, she thought to herself, she should have known better than to come to this part of town, at this time of night, in this outfit. She did know better. And yet... and yet, when she had been invited out by her friends, with their laughing, and smiling, and happy acceptance of her, she had ignored the warning sirens in her head, and dressed up in her cutest minidress, with her best makeup and her hair piled attractively in an out of the way but still flirty style.

All it had taken was running into one person who knew her other persona to shoot everything to hell. Her friends had run the instant they had stepped outside and seen the knife, just as she had tried to. She had been his target, though, and it had taken no time at all for him to catch her, do as he pleased with her, then slice her open with that same manic grin on his face.

She had screamed, but in this part of town, that was little more than background noise.

Hollywood had it wrong, she realized as she watched the blood pooling around her, almost detached from her body. They always showed blood as this bright, vivid crimson, spraying everywhere with each stab and stroke of the blade.

In truth, it was a much darker shade of red than she had expected.

She would have giggled at the way it contrasted with the sweet yellow of her dress if she could have worked up the energy. Instead, it was all she could do to keep her hands on her stomach and pray that someone found her before...

Before...

Before.