Rain of Blood

Rating: PG-13 for language and violence

*I DO NOT OWN VOCALOID (OBVIOUSLY). THIS IS ONLY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES. Thank you and PLEASE DO NOT PLAGIARIZE (COPY MY WORK) AS IT IS ILLEGAL AND IF WORD REACHES OUT TO ME THAT PLAGIARISM OF MY STORIES HAS OCCURRED, I MAY END UP TAKING DOWN MY STORIES. PLEASE DO NOT BE THE ONE PERSON WHO HAS TO RUIN THE FUN FOR EVERYONE.

Blood.

That was all she could see; all she could feel racing madly within her seemingly frail skin. It pooled at her feet, crimson and unforgiving, leaving no mercy in its wake. Marking her; taunting her to make a move, daring her to escape from these tormenting woods. Or was it not?

Plop, plop, plop, plop…

One by one, drop after drop, soaking at her clothes, raining as if demons were tainting this piteous world full of darkness; at such appalling human beings…at her. She could not scream, nor would she dare. For even as such as a sign of pain would corrupt her…engulf her until she would soon succumb to her own hell; to taste death and ashes in her very being. Fear. Oh, how the tears and screams beseeched to be released; to aim fear at the crimson red sky. She hated it; hated the smell, the stench of death that invaded her nostrils.

Lightning.

It crashed, blaring her sight with the same scenery, and the same smell. Blood. The smell was killing her. If she would not be fated to go mad by the raging storm, then surely the strong smell of iron would swallow her in. It was reaching…attempting to engulf her very being, taunting her with images of hell; begging to drag her down to her doom.

Rain.

It poured rapidly without sympathy, flooding the blood with water; spreading the ghastly smell for another to fear; to irk. Those eyes. So crimson were they, deadly yet unforgiving in every single fragment that she could count in his eyes. There was no emotion. None towards her nor the victim whose blood splashed at her feet, washed away by the pouring rain. So empty was the owner of those bloody red eyes, and…so cruel was the lovely, beautiful mouth that man contained. As if he was an angel and Satan himself all at once.

Lovely crimson eyes, followed by the curves of his mistakenly fragile face. So beautiful were those soft lips that once smiled, those rosy lips that had touched that lovely, strong body, now laid like a limp doll, one that had been charmed and deluded her to her own living hell. She remembered. That soft crimson hair, so sinful and cold, that she utterly felt contempt for. That she loathed. She trained her sharp eyes towards him, cradling the lifeless body closer, and she sent him everything that he in return, had given her and more importantly, the bloodied doll in her arms.

Hell.

The man whispered nothing and kept his blood red eyes trained on her. Watching. Laying in wait. A predator and a prey in wait. She watched back, refusing to reveal any sign of apprehension, but gallantry. The rain poured down harder, mercilessly shrouding her in tears. How bad she wanted to scream at this moment. How bad it was begging to leave her bloodied lips and escape out into the open air.

No.

She would not allow weakness, and certainly not for this fiend, this ogre, to take pleasure and elation in her suffering because of him. No. She would not allow for such to happen, and definitely not for this monster to see her in such a state. Then he-no this beast, smirked. A smirk that delivered all he felt in his cold, dark heart. That is, if he even had a heart. The small smirk morphed into a wide grin, and his eyes. They glanced up to meet hers, and there was no pity nor regret in those eyes. Nothing but humor. The man laughed; a deep, cruel laugh that sang out to the sky, so dazzling and atrocious as was his very being.

That disgusting existence.

Then he ran. Ran towards her with his bloody fangs, the same one that had destroyed and marred that frail body that pressed up against hers in, mixed in blood and rain. Most of all, it was drowned in those wounds, caused by those very fangs from him. She stepped away as he lunged at her, threatening her at her desperately to crumble, to melt and succumb to darkness. A snarl emitted from those foul, horrid lips as he ran at her and he lunged again.

Blood.

It pooled out from him, so stunning yet horrendous, no different from the beast himself That foul creature stopped, it's daggers a mere ten inches away from her skin, and before it could recover, was stabbed again, this time directly at its core. The wild-eyed creature collapsed, gasping for breath as it struggled on the crimson-stained ground, screaming bloody murder as if it had not just been the cause of one. As if he was not damned and sinned by his own actions. Just like she herself was. The man was now as feeble and as helpless as that stoned body that laid several feet away from him, extracted of life and youth.

But he was different.

He was still breathing, gasping and panting, his only hope on life as it hung desperately between existence and demise. She snarled at the foul creature, pointed the tip of her dagger high above its head, when it looked.

And begged.

Begging for mercy, for pity, for anything from her. She knew those eyes too well; she'd seen many who'd given the same look as this horrible creature had, one that pleaded for mercy when death was on its brink, but was nevertheless as bloodthirsty and heartless as ever if it was permitted to survive. It would not change. To allow this filth to survive would only cause more harm. Not just to her, but to the innocent and kind. Being one of religion, she was not one to kill and murder, but this creature had murdered her without a second thought. It didn't allow forgiveness, even when she had begged and cried for it; an innocent woman crying for mercy, yet her pleas had not even reached this twisted creature's heart.

It was disgusting.

Yet it was demanding for clemency; for pity at its pitched dark heart. Those bloody red eyes were tempting her in, trying to persuade her to feel.

Time froze.

Perhaps she should feel for this awful creature, for it only needed to feed. Just like any other animal, it needed to feed. To exist. And to do such an act would make her no better than this creature that laid before her, bloodied as the broken doll it had crafted by its own two tainted hands. She knew. It would not revive the deaths of those who were murdered by it.

But she snarled again, finally uttering naught more than a soft whisper, "Goodbye, sinful creature of the dark. May God be with you."

And with that, she plunged the dagger into the sinful creature's heart.

It screeched, a bloodcurdling screech that both resonated and screamed as it collapsed, now nothing more than a bloody and empty shell, as hollow as its victim that had fallen not long before it had.

She stood, not moving, frozen as she tilted her head up, watching the crimson red sky slowly cease away. She could not take it anymore; now more blood filled the air, and the very last hold she had on biting back her scream was crumbling. She could not cry, for no tears could undo the past. A life for a life.

She screamed.

Her scream was full of fear, of love, and sadness. This was a tragedy, one in which all had lost. The naive victim had been brutalized, the errant murderer was dead, and…her, the sinner, was breathing, alive, with death staining her very fingertips; a sure sign for hell's grasp on her soul. And still, the victim had not been arisen and breathed life again. She cried, as she too, collapsed, her fingers now tainted; so young, so pure, but yet such a sinner she was. With her desolating strength, she crawled slowly over to the victim.

Her mother.

Trying to restrain her control, she caressed her mother's pale face into her hands, watching as her tears flowed from her cheeks to her mother's, marking her face as it surged, yet leaving so little sign of the traced tears. She glanced at her face, that beautiful golden hair that she had once so lovingly curled and played with, those soft fingers that had laced through hers, lovingly and dearly, that small, curvy nose she had so admired for the past years, and most of all, her eyes.

They were beautiful; ocean blue eyes that mirrored hers, twinkling and shining as bright as the ocean and sky, and never did she ever think those lovely eyes would ever cease to shine. Until now.

All she could do was scream. Sceram with her last breath at the blinding rain until…what?

There was no use. No use screaming, no use crying her heart out in the roaring rain. Instead of continuing her screeches of agony, she roared out into the pattering rain, both tears and anger tingeing her facial features. She caught her breath, her blue eyes gleaming with fury and hate; she would make them pay. Make them beg for mercy, for their lives. She had held back for so long, but now it was for once that she was finally glad of her power. That power of hers that was so demonic, so full of hate, but was still her one and only sanctuary in this pitiful life.

Her eyelids closed and when they opened, those beautiful blue eyes that resembled the shining blue sky no longer remained.

Not anymore.