Roses Are Red... And So Is Blood Page 3

  Chapter three

  I woke up and stood up. Hector was gone. I knew where he was going. He had either gone to, was going to, or had been to the river. I didn’t want to face him again— not really. But I knew that in the end, everything would come down to a faceoff between me and Hector. Then one of us would regret ever coming across the other’s path. Unbidden, a memory filled my mind. It was the day I had met Hector.

  Solomon, fifteen years before.

  I skipped down the bright, sunlit path in the woods. I knew this path so well, Mom didn’t even yell at me for running ahead of the rest of the family. We took this route every Saturday, rain, shine, snow, sleet, hail, etc. And almost every time we took this path, another family would walk either behind or in front of us. There was another boy there, four years old, just like me. He had bright red hair, blue eyes, and was rather pale. Each time we saw him, I wanted to say hi. But I never did. Finally, one day, something happened. We were taking our walk, just like we always did. This time, the red haired boy wasn’t with the other family. He was nowhere to be found. The other family didn’t seem concerned about this, though I knew if I had gone missing, my family would have caused an uproar. Then something violet raced out of the trees on our right, and it turned out to be the small boy with red hair. He ran right in front of us, but he tripped on something. Right in front of me. I bent down to help him up, but he scrambled up on his own. “Hi,” he said breathlessly. His face was bright red, both from running and embarrassment. “My name’s Hector.” He said.

  “I’m Solomon,” I replied. “Are you alright?”

  “Just a few scrapes.”

  “Okay. That’s good.”

  “So now we’re friends, right?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Oh, boy! I like making friends!”

  I laughed. “So do I.”

  From that day forth, he and I were friends. Until Ashley came.

  Solomon, present day

  As suddenly as it has come, the memory vanished. I knelt on the ground, and felt something under my hand. A small footprint. I inspected it more closely. It was the same size as my feet had been at four years of age. I stood up and looked around. The place seemed… changed. The oak tree I was under… why did it look so familiar? Then I realized. It was the same oak tree Hector had come rushing out from behind, thirteen years ago. The footprint I had discovered was where I had knelt to help him up. Tears started spilling out of my dark green eyes. I finally realized the importance of friendship, and why it should continue once it was formed. I needed to go to Hector and apologize. Somehow, I had to apologize. I had to apologize to Ashley, to Hector, to myself. To everyone. I started walking towards the creek where I knew Hector would have been. When I got there, he was just wading back. “Hector!” I called.

  {“Alright, Solomon. You’ve had your turn. Let me write.” “But Hector!” “Both of you shut up. This was originally my book, so I should write.” “Daniel, Solomon, this is my part.” “Fine.” “This was my book, but fine.”}

  Hector here.

  “Hector!” Solomon called.

  “What?” I replied warily. Ten to one he had come to exact his revenge.

  “I need to say something! Come on the bank!” I climbed up, just to see what he wanted. To my surprise, tears streaked his face. “I needed to say….” He couldn’t finish. I was even more surprised when he looked straight into my eyes, and I immediately got the message. “You’re sorry,” I said. He nodded. “What compelled you to apologize?”

  “I remembered the day we first met… in the exact place we first met. I found one of my own footprints from that day, Hector.”

  “So now you’re sorry.”

  “Yes.”

  “I never wanted to fight in the first place.”

  “Who would?”

  “I thought you would.”

  “No. I just wanted Ashley. I felt as if I couldn’t live without her.”

  “So you fought.”

  “So I fought.”

  “Solomon, that’s not what you do. You take the opposition out with a quick hammer jab to the solar plexus.”

  He laughed. “That’s your method?”

  “If I have no other alternative.”

  “I did. And I should have used it.”

  “You should have.”

  “Am I forgiven?”

  “You are. Except….” I punched him. He wasn’t hurt— it was just a little friend punch. He punched me back, and I laughed. He started laughing, and soon we were laughing and rolling on the grass together. A few people looked at us like we were crazy—nineteen-year olds don’t usually roll around in the grass laughing— but we didn’t care.

  {“Dude! Can I have my computer? It’s my turn to write!” “Fine, Daniel.”}

  Man, he was writing too long. This is my book, not theirs.

  Ashley heard the laughing, and walked over to it. She was surprised by what she saw. “Is this a trick?” She asked suspiciously. “Nope!” Hector laughed. “We’re being friends!”

  “Why?”

  “Solomon apologized.”

  “Why was that?”

  Hector related the story to Ashley, and she got happier and happier with every word. “So now everyone is friends?” She asked. “We sure are!” Solomon replied. “But I still have one question.”

  “What is that?”

  “Who do you like?”

  At this, Ashley grew serious. “Neither.” is all she would say. They kept asking, but her response was the same: “Neither.” They finally gave up trying and resorted to asking riddles.

  That night

  {“Daniel, this is my dramatic part. Lemme have the computer.”}

  Ashley here. I really wanted to have a try in the writing.

  I slipped out of my bed and looked around the room. Everything was in its place. My cloak was hanging from the rack along with my hat, my staff formed the body of the rack, and my shoes were in my hat. I walked over and slipped on my cloak. Then I took my shoes out of my hat and put both on. Finally, I disassembled the makeshift coat-rack and took my staff. Then I climbed out my window and started walking briskly down the moon-lit path. “Going somewhere?” A familiar voice asked.

  “Yes, Hector, I am.”

  Hector stepped out from behind one of the trees. “Where would that be?”

  “If I had wanted you to know, I would have told you and gone in broad daylight.”

  “Private?”

  “Apparently.”

  He smiled. “Full moon.” He commented.

  “And?”

  “Just saying.”

  “You had a reason. You always get that little smile on your face when you’re planning something.”

  “I had no reason.”

  “You can’t fool me, Hector.”

  “I’m not trying to.”

  “You are.”

  “But the fact remains I’m not.”

  “What are you planning?”

  “What are you hiding would be a better question.”

  “What are you hiding, then?”

  He said nothing, but pulled something from behind the tree. A knife… stained bright red… up to the handle… with blood. “Yes, that is blood.” He said.

  “Whose?” I demanded. His smile widened.

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “No.”

  “It should be.”

  “Solomon’s?”

  His smile widened even more. “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “You killed him!”

  “I did?”

  “Yes!”

  “No, I didn’t. Notice I said maybe not.”

  “Everyone has to stay on their toes around you, don’t they?”

  “You hit the nail on the head.”

  “Why?”

  “I never killed Solomon.”

  “No, he never killed me.” A new voice broke in. It was Solomon. He was nowhere to be seen, but his voice was there to be heard.

  “Where
are you?” I demanded, and wielded my staff.

  “Follow my voice.”

  That sounded like the sort of thing Solomon would do, so I followed it. It went behind the tree. I peered around… and felt something on the back of my neck. A knife point. I turned slightly and saw, out the corner of my eye, a knife blade leading to my neck. It was held by Hector. “Ventriloquism,” He said. “I was quite skilled in it as a child.” Then he thrust the knife forward, and I knew no more. At least, he tried to. I felt his muscle tense, and I knew I was going to die. Until a gunshot rang through the air. The knife blade got struck by a bullet, and it was no longer a threat. Neither was Hector, once I had whirled around and snap-kicked him in the chest. “Ashley!” Someone called. It was Solomon! I raced over to him. “Solomon!” I cried. Next thing I knew, I was enveloped in his arms. “It’s okay,” He said soothingly. “No-one’s going to hurt you.” He was proved wrong the very next minute. Something sharp— a knife—buried itself in my back. It barely missed my spinal cord, but I fell to the ground.

  {“I don’t remember what came after that, guys.” “We don’t expect you to, Ashley. Solomon, you can go.” “Thanks, Daniel.”}

  Solomon here.

  Ashley fell away from me and hit the ground on her side. I caught a glimpse of a knife handle in her back before something was on top of me. Hector had leaped directly on me after throwing the knife at Ashley. We wrestled for a few minutes, both of us fueled by anger and adrenaline. Finally, I rose the victor. Hector was looking like he had been beaten with a sledgehammer, and I did too. I had no idea what to do with Ashley. I didn’t need to do anything. She had already died. Dead as a doornail. Why do people use that phrase? Never mind. Anyway, she was dead. Very dead. So I was standing on a path, with the sun just about to kiss the path with its warm rays, stuck between a moaning, groaning guy who was ready to beat my brains out, and a dead, dead girl who couldn’t beat anyone’s brains out ‘cause she was dead. Man, was I in trouble. I realized, “Nothing left to live for.” Hector had stopped breathing, Ashley was dead, and I was going to die. And I knew that for a fact. I pulled the knife out of Ashley’s back, wincing at the sight of the fake (for the blood on the knife when Hector had it was fake) and real blood on it, and gritted my teeth. Then I placed the point against my chest, right by my heart. And stabbed. I gasped as the blade entered my body, but I almost welcomed it. Dropping the knife, I laid down between Hector and Ashley, feeling my life seep out of me. When it was almost gone, I thought one last thought: “Well, I’m dead.”

  Chapter four

  {“Alright, now everyone’s dead.”}

  Daniel back. Everyone died, so they can’t write about what happened after that.

  Later that day

  The man wearing all red walked slowly down the path where the three bodies lay. Upon seeing them, he did something not many people do seeing corpses: he laughed. He knelt by Solomon’s body, and felt his pulse. It was not there. He felt Ashley’s and Hector’s in turn, and neither was there. He stood and chuckled. His face, deathly pale, seemed as though no pulse belonged there either. It seemed as if it were the face of Death himself. And do you know why? That is who he was. Death! Death, with his slicing scythe, always harvesting the souls of all dead men! Death, with his skeleton face always grinning, gleaming, as he takes men into the Underworld! Death, he of the name which strikes fear into hearts of all, save those who wish to die! Death, the unconquerable one, the one who rules over all, and the one people have tried and failed to hold sway over many times! Death, he who visits all wars and battles, to take the souls of the soldiers killed and feast upon their flesh! Death, he who is at the back of every story, the beginning of every death, and the end of every life! Death, he who causes all war, all funerals, all grieving, all mourning, all bad luck, and everything we hate or shun! And he had come to claim the souls of the two men and the women that lay dead upon the path. From under his cloak, he pulled his scythe. Ten feet tall and six feet wide, was his scythe. Gleaming silver and razor-sharp. He swung it over the bodies, each swing making the corpses below jerk as their souls were severed. Finally, when his work was done, Death took his black sack into which he put all souls, and put the new souls in. Then he stepped back, and the ground cracked upon and he fell into the crack, down to the Underworld to release the souls to be judged. Judged as to whether they live in torment or paradise, Heaven or Hell, down or up. Death himself would assist in the judging, for he watches all. He knows what they have done. He sees to the bottom of their minds and souls, and slowly makes his decision. He stepped up to the scales and placed the souls on. For Ashley’s soul the scales balanced. So she went to live in paradise. For Hector’s soul, the scales were imbalanced. So he went to live in torment. For Solomon, the scales would not stop moving. They were not balanced, nor were they imbalanced. Finally, Death took Solomon’s soul in disgust, and split it in two. One part he threw in paradise and the other was thrown in torment. And so the decision was made for all three. Then Death went back to the Upperworld, so he could collect all the souls that were waiting to be judged.