Bloodied Snow
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Imagine that winter: the one where you awoke to a world of pure white, heavy snow blanketing the ground, completely undisturbed, where it was ethereal. When it was perfect. The kind of perfect winter scene, like one you would see on a Christmas card or in a movie.
βDo you remember that winter, Red? The one where it was soβ¦perfect that you wish you could have had it burned into your memory?β Xavier walks closer, an almost sympathetic look on his face. However, no matter how sympathetic his expression seemed, his eyes told a different story. His eyesβ¦they hold so many emotions. Satisfaction, excitement, dangerβ¦ But theyβre not looking at you, theyβre following the trail of crimson liquid thatβs been seeping into the snow as you scramble backwards.
However, it seems, every step and scrambling movement backwards you make, he matches with a step of his own.
You were silent for a moment, remembering. You did remember that winterβ¦one almost like this exactly. Except instead of running from Xavier because he was throwing snowballsβ¦heβs brandishing a knife. One thatβs already found itβs way in between your ribs once. The sight he gives you is almost repulsive as he licks the blood off the blade, the dagger glinting in the low light of the sunset.
You coughed violently before speaking, causing blood to spill out of your mouth. βOf course I remember. It was almost exactlyβ¦like this.β
Xavier finally caught up to you, putting the blade under your chin, forcing you to look up at him, the cold blade pricking slightly at your skin, but not enough to draw blood. He reached out a hand, gently wiping off the blood running down your face, a smirk on his face.
βOh, Dollβ¦itβs such a shame that it had to end like this, since you look so good like thisβ¦ Redβs a good color on youβ¦β
The last thing you remember is a sharp pain in your abdomen, only to look down and find that Xavier had stabbed you again, and the blood oozing out of the wound, the dark crimson liquid spilling out onto the snow.