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Crimson Fields
Chapter 2: [The Reunion]

Chapter 2: [The Reunion]

Alex Winter

10:30 pm, Saturday, July 8th, 2023

Wouldn't surprise me to find cobwebs all over this damn place... Alex flipped the switch next to him. A series of lightbulbs shined throughout the room. His eyes blinked to adjust, scanning around. There was a vast living room to the right, stairs in the center, and a massive kitchen on his left. There were a few doors he noted in the living room as well.

His imagination ran wild with horrific ideas. The idea of faceless monsters sprinting at him from a random corner in the room, screaming. Shapes being found in unseen parts of the room, staring at the wall. It was times like these he cursed being a writer. At the same time, he would've loved it, if it weren't for one thing.

It was clean. Grandpa's been dead for two years... Does he have a caretaker or something? Standing in front of the staircase particularly gave him a bad feeling. He looked down at the hardwood floor. Not even a speck of plaster dust. A caretaker that stuck around two years after he died? ...No, that makes no sense.

Setting down his backpack, he pulled out his pistol. It was already locked and loaded. He stuffed it into his inner jacket pocket. Better safe than sorry.

Alex investigated room to room. The office beside the living room had two bookcases and a fancy desk by a lone window. The study was small. The perfect little space to type to his heart's content. His legs cried with the desire to sit and relax. Paranoia was making that an impossible task.

There was a door by the side of the front stairs. When he peered within, stairs led to the dark, creepy basement. He decided to ignore it for now, closing it. The kitchen was just as clean as the rest of the house, the sinks, fridge, cabinets, and counters spotless. It was stocked with all sorts of food, from frozen meat, vegetables, and fruit in the freezer to a pantry full of cereal, rice, bread, soups, beans, almost anything he could've thought he'd need for all sorts of meals. None of it was rotting or expired. The ingredients smelled fresh.

As Alex turned back toward the living room, he paused at the foot of the stairs. His eyes were drawn to the dimly lit second-floor railing, where a silhouette lurked. It remained still, shrouded in the shadows. Alex, his heart pounding, called out, "Hello? Hey!" before bolting up the stairs.

The shape scurried away faster than he could follow. A door slammed as Alex yanked the chain next to him. Dim lights flickered on along the hall. Panic set in as he realized the intruder could be in any of the four rooms. One was beside him, another to his left, one straight ahead, and one to the right.

A chilling thought crossed his mind – should he call the police and escape into the forest? But the idea of fleeing blindly through the woods was even more terrifying. What if this intruder knew how to navigate the forest? He felt rooted to the spot, paralyzed.

Alex pulled out the mini knife in his pocket and snapped it open. His eyes turned to the door beside him. I doubt they ran in here. I'll open it before moving on. Hopefully these doors just happen to be obnoxiously loud when they open or close... With bated breath, he turned the knob, and as he suspected, a hair-raising creak echoed through the room.

Carefully, he stepped down the hall and moved to the room on the right. He hesitated, pressing his shoulder against the door before swinging it open. Dust fell around him, making him cough as he scanned for any hiding spots. The room felt abandoned and neglected, with several potential hiding places – a closet, curtains, or under the bed.

Alex stormed to the bed, flipping over the sheets and then stabbing into the dark closet. All he found were clothes, which he angrily threw aside. "Where are you?" he roared, looking under the bed. Suddenly, something on the far wall caught his eye – a peephole.

It may as well have been shooting a laser pointer at him. The chills he got from looking at it sent spiders dancing down his spine. At that moment, he put away his knife and pulled out the gun. His eyes turned to the door he entered from. No sounds of movement could be heard. He tiptoed to the wall and looked through the hole.

A silver eye stared back.

It took every nerve for him not to yelp. He stayed and waited for it to move. It didn't budge. Alex took a small step back, noticing the figure's shadow bleed through the wallpaper.

Curiosity got the best of him. Alex cautiously moved right, the shadow mimicking his every step. At the room's far end, an antique mirror captured his attention. His fingers tightened around the cold grip of the Baretta as he cautiously approached the mirror.

His breath caught in his throat as he realized the mirror was not just a decorative piece; it concealed a hidden doorway.

Suddenly, a slashing knife sliced through the air, narrowly grazing his cheek. In the shock of the moment, the gun was ripped from his grasp and clattered across the room, metal against wood.

A cloaked figure leaped at him with blinding speed, but Alex reacted swiftly. He caught the intruder's chest with his legs and delivered a powerful kick that sent the figure tumbling over the nearby bed.

Their eyes locked for a brief, tense moment, and then the cloaked assailant launched another attack. This time, Alex managed to catch their arm. With a powerful heave, he hurled the intruder through a nearby wall, causing chaos and sending a cloud of dust into the air.

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Amidst the confusion, a heel connected with Alex's cheek, and he groaned in pain, collapsing to the floor. His body was dragged across the room, creating a trail of swirling dust.

Desperation welled up within him, and with a swift movement, he snatched his phone from his pocket and flung it at the cloaked figure. The phone smacked against the figure's head, forcing them to release their hold.

Their eyes met once again, and as the woman's cloak slowly slipped away, her identity was revealed.

"Who are you?" Alex demanded, his voice laced with anger and frustration. But the mysterious woman wasted no time in bolting for the window, disappearing into the dark forest outside, leaving Alex seething.

"Motherfucker! Get back here!" he screamed, slamming his fist against the window sill.

As he stood there, his knuckles turned white from gripping the window sill, Alex froze up. The breathing he had heard earlier, a heavy, labored wheeze, now filled the room, drowning out every other sound.

It was loud, like the guttural roar of a bull preparing to charge. Alex's heart pounded in his chest as he turned his gaze to the other side of the room.

A man stood there, an imposing figure with a bull's skull in place of his head. The horns on that skull reached towards the ceiling, threatening to pierce through it. The man's chest heaved with each breath, each exhalation a menacing growl that grew louder and louder. An unexplainable pressure bore down on Alex's shoulders, as if an invisible force held him in place, unable to move.

An unexplainable pressure bore down on Alex's shoulders, as if an invisible force held him in place, unable to move [https://img.wattpad.com/4db25304042c2aba06b4d655daeba03b20cc54b6/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f46744b72795f716d33634c6365513d3d2d313339333030313231362e313739653438386631383439626335393836343336383139363332322e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

The man was dressed in a black suit and tie, a scarred hand clutching a gleaming machete. He loomed at a staggering height of 7 feet, his figure seemingly extending before Alex's very eyes, yet he remained eerily still.

Alex blinked in disbelief, and in that brief moment, the man was already halfway across the room, closing the distance with unnatural speed. A bull's shriek erupted from him, a primal, bone-chilling sound that sent shivers down Alex's spine. In a desperate attempt to escape, Alex leaped out of the window just as the machete lodged itself into the wooden frame inches from where he had been standing.

Tumbling down the sloping tiles of the roof, his hip smacked painfully against the edge. Roof tiles shattered and clattered to the ground below as he desperately clung to the edge of the roof, his bleeding hand screaming in pain.

But the man in the bull-skull mask was relentless. He spoke in tongues, a guttural and inhuman language that sounded like a boar attempting to speak. Each word sent a shiver down Alex's spine, its demonic and violent undertones rendering it incomprehensible.

"Why... why are you-" Alex stammered in helpless terror, looking up at the monstrous figure that now seemed to tower taller than the surrounding trees.

Summoning every ounce of strength and willpower, Alex pried his hand from the roof just before the machete would have claimed his life. He crashed against the ground, his body sprawled out, wracked with pain.

His leg was busted, a searing agony radiating from the injury, making it impossible for him to stand. Alex's fists clenched, his eyes welled up with tears, and his arms burned from the effort of dragging himself through the mud.

Are you serious? This is how I die? ...Fuck this! Alex's hands dug into the dirt, crawling to the best of his ability. I came here to start my life. To finally make all those years I put out at sea to mean something.

I found a home I could finally call my own. I made it here myself. Me. Right here. Nobody else got me here but me. Memories of friends he had made and the family he longed to return to flooded his mind. The twenty-six years of life he had lived, six years he had served, all for this moment. With sheer determination, Alex's trembling hands dug into the earth as he heard footsteps approaching from both in front and behind.

I will not die like some sniveling dog.... he swore, struggling to his knee. The woman who had appeared in front of him beneath the moon's eerie glow seemed unfazed by his efforts. Her eyes locked onto his, a sinister grin tugging at her lips, the dagger in her hand glinting in the moonlight.

"You think this shit is funny?" Alex asked, his body trembling. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the blade in her hand.

The woman tilted her head. "Your struggle to live is admirable," she responded, raising his chin with the knife's tip. "You're the first in a while to make this little game of mine so entertaining.~"

"Just who are you? What do you want?" Alex snapped, grabbing her wrist as she caressed his cheek.

She leaned into his cheek, rubbing their faces together as her mouth tickled his ear. "Scarlett. Scarlett Leonhart," she whispered, pulling back enough to look into his eyes. "Today's your lucky day, Alex Winter. Oh yes, I know who you are. I will bestow upon you one chance."

Scarlett turned her back on him, her eyes turning to the moon.

Alex tried to spring to his feet and tackle her. His leg gave out, forcing him back to a knee. I can't get up yet. Leaves blew past them as her hair flowed against the wind. It smacked his cheek.

"Will you live or will you die? Scarlett taunted, her blade flashing dangerously. "Fight to the last breath, or lie six feet under like the dog you are? Don't disappoint me, Alex!"

Desperation fueled Alex's actions as he reached for her wrist, attempting to overpower her. Their struggle was fierce, and blood flowed from both their foreheads as their eyes locked in a deadly contest. But their duel was abruptly interrupted as the bull-headed man swung his weapon down upon them, the blade aimed at Scarlett.

In a moment of impulse, Alex grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him, saving her from the fatal strike. Scarlett missed her intended plunge, and her arms wrapped around Alex's neck as he shielded her. The machete struck his back, blood splattering onto the ground. Alex bit into her shoulder, stifling a scream as pain coursed through him.

"Y-you! Why did you do that?" she asked, her eyes widening, her voice trembling.

He coughed up blood, trembling at any attempt to move. A searing pain came from his back as it dripped into the dirt around them. She stroked his cheek again and waved her hand. The man standing over them faded into dust at once, scattering to the winds.

Struggling to breathe and barely able to move, Alex managed to stammer, "I-I suppose I wanted to kill you myself," before losing consciousness.

Scarlett lay beneath him, her arms and legs still entwined around his body. Her laughter started as a manic giggle and spiraled into a wild, frenzied cackle. Her eyes gleamed with unhinged excitement, and she practically drooled with anticipation.

"Oh yess, yes! I've found you! My dear sweet, I finally found you," Scarlett stroked his hair and sniffed it feverishly. She felt the gash in his back and licked the blood off her fingers. "So sweet. You will not die tonight, Alex. You are mine from this day forth. An eternal covenant." With Alex clutched in her embrace, Scarlett cackled to herself all night long.