Crimson on White by Kirsty R-D.

Crimson on White

Thick, scarlet liquid trickled onto the frozen blanket of white. Ice became water as hot blood swirled in the dusty flakes. Tendrils of ruby reached out into the endless white, grasping for freedom; praying that if they unfurled their copper coils just enough there might be an excuse to hope. Stark and contrasting; the ruby poured itself into the snow, mixing in a deadly dance of blood and water, There would be no escaping the icy clutches of the chalky, boundless expanse. Not Today. Not ever.

Mary Ann pulled her fur coat tighter around her shivering body, her breaths crystallising as they left her mouth. The faint remnants of a Michael Jackson song echoed in her ears from a bar down the street. The sun, having set long ago, had left not even a dash of its legacy behind and Mary Ann felt persisted by the dark. The clouds had created a shield against any small beam of light, extinguishing the stars and banishing the moon. Streetlights emitted their feeble impression of the sky’s glow, casting shadows in their pathetic attempt at light.

This particular night seemed to be colder than the rest. The past week she had been out until the early hours of the morning but only tonight did the cold strike her as predacious, like a lion in search for prey.

She turned a corner and silence seemed to descend upon her; a silence so thick she could almost hear it. She paused for a split second, taken aback by the suddenness of the quiet but then she shook it off and continued her walk, the gentle tapping of her shoes on the pavement, muffled by snow now sounding like bombs in an empty field.

Rubbing her shoulders for warmth, she arrived at the entrance to the park. She stopped. The grassy plains wore a cloak of snow. She knew it was a bad idea to walk through the park at this hour. The gravel path in there was no more smothered than the concrete one she walked now but there was no light and she knew how densely wooded the path got. It was a bad idea. A bad idea. But it was so much quicker and the air was all but frozen out here. Bad idea. Bad idea. But she just wanted to be in her warm home and what was the worst thing that could happen? And besides, she had seen about two people so far and they had both been blumbering middle-age men too drunk to be a threat. She was sober. She knew what she was doing.

Thinking of her central heating, she clutched her phone and pushed open the rusty gate.

Two minutes into walking, she was feeling a lot more comfortable. She hadn’t seen anyone and barely a noise had crept into her ears. She strolled along at a brisk pace, not because of fear but because of the sharp chill that bit at her exposed neck and crawled its way through her clothing. Trees began to crowd her. The pale winter had stolen their leaves and replaced them with a molten silver that made their boughs hang low.

A twig snapped. Mary Ann’s head whipped around. What was that? A squirrel, surely. Nothing to worry about. No need to stress. That would just be childish.

Then a cold wind pushed past her, violent almost and cold like ice. It was freezing anyway but this was on a whole other level. A million knives seemed to prick her face and she gasped as the chill stole her breath. Leaves rustled. Mary Ann spun around but nothing was to be seen.

Suddenly, a weight was on top of her and she could feel the crunch of the snow beneath her back. She looked up to see a snarling face, the eyes bloodshot and the veins almost black. Imbedded into the mouth of the creature were two dangerously sharp teeth. Fangs. Vampire fangs. She wanted to scream but terror stole her tongue. She couldn’t think straight. Fear had taken that too.

The monster growled and went for her neck. Mary Ann finally found her voice and a bloodcurdling scream ripped from her lungs.