Novels2Search
Crimson Fields
Chapter 3: [The Calm]

Chapter 3: [The Calm]

image [https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/AP1GczOjDYviOhgjwQm6R-9nhT3MwH4XInlp72rBe1dzNJQXY3KSRcrj9z1L8RGu56TWEKW0mP5cGg9CVV7Rh9R1prN87CvU9vk1cfs_PRfmHgJaS_KFvdpkwXnpSaTR9WrtK-vM2XW7p35P-V9XjCkg1ib1Rm5dLmNGPFr3Fzbv7V1tVIt4Cm-gQmTN9Gzz_GBq9fZad4mQMT3sqim-Cns-eheXFTHfSjvITL633g9dGuONICxeSr2H83ggNUvW2770t9-6nMNxEpIxXzDkH_KvVOv87f20F811XXMNZCD-3MlMPyB1BHHON4Hun7VKAHICYOKL8ZHPSfjfYcnHfvfu0m59NdT6uVaP7nm02_CiXauv_6k4og6yL6JfXR4M7BAjZGOZatEyrb3bt4nlFxHgBxzAGyXyxUIECgV_GSolTOKjeW5Y6RuCz1xAlmIcEZi0z9hxsOKZV7jfOoHC2oyhILnIB3y4mdXvQn17FleWLcj6ti3NirMZ6r9Kzdwtb7whxO5DEHmk9dW_1wqswajXE4y35a7gcxiKEmD0M3R1f9FmSK4vk5_ga5CqOZt_GcMwtJ4eXVcg_OuXYEcdcEJgByizr81ayfFCgirpAqUYF2UC43vHxUDHEMN06aJPOxlEV120Mf7UZ8od2451kMBhB9exSJBMlGpIKwd8fW6pHXlvdXfhgihafi8grBr99__diTGkoB7Ou6UwomXq2Ymin8v_Tj8T52FJD7LyVYLQbHX2icepQQ4ALgQywB0Lq1doAHJBS76X-5wgOC2c0h1M71odgUoWGtwqAkQrylUMRpP05R2uwjd3C1UEQmq15NBoKp_JGF2xQ9EFDyFoqao4EDls2yjECDLGej3CsyMUvM9Ika6W8hgrH3nkZDPFtoc_HDtS8WL1vp1L5okQus7zvPSi3eYYgsINJYE3xNu2cJLN1yLORlYoqbt3Aut78DN0=w654-h654-s-no-gm?authuser=1](Concept art of Alex and Squirrelclaw)

Alex Winter

1:00 pm, Sunday, July 9th, 2023

Sunlight creeped through the porch windows. It covered Alex in its warmth as he stirred on the couch. The leather creased under his weight. He tossed and turned, his breathing erratic and out of control. A sinister, bloody smear stained the leather, marking a twisted path. A mere graze of his fingertips against the gash on his back jolted him awake, his eyes snapping open.

With a startled jerk, he kicked out, and a sharp CRUNCH resonated through the room as his toes collided with the coffee table standing before him. Cursing through gritted teeth, he was grateful it hadn't fractured under the force of his uncontrolled kick.

Sweat slickened every inch of his trembling body, mingling with the blood that splattered across his torso and arms. With a shiver, Alex looked down. He was naked.

"What? Where am I?" he muttered, looking around.

He was still inside of the house. His house. Not his house. Why would he ever live in a place like this?

The intruding sunlight made him squint, and he noticed his glasses lying on the table in front of him, neatly placed alongside the clothes he wore the night before. It sent shivers down his spine. A gnawing pain consumed him, but he ignored it as he reached for the crumpled letter beside his glasses.

Hesitation gripped him as his right hand throbbed in agony from the deep red gash along the roof's edge. With a scowl, he grasped the letter with his other hand and began to read.

I'll be out all day so don't wait up!~ Your clothes should be nice and clean by now, and your room is ready. Do take care of yourself until I return, my dear sweet Alex. Until then, do as you please.

Love,

Scarlett.

Alex's first instinct was to rip this letter to shreds. He resisted the urge. Who the fuck is she? First she tries to kill me and now I'm some sort of puppy dog for her amusement? ...Ugh, none of this makes any sense.

Annoyed and bewildered, he forced himself to his feet, wincing from a sharp pain in his right thigh. He steadied himself against the table, thankful he hadn't collided face-first into the glass. The fall he had taken should have left him with a broken leg. She was hiding here the entire time... What is she doing here? Was that bull headed man one of her pets?

Limping to the bathroom beside the office room, the flickering light buzzed obnoxiously. When he looked in the mirror, he half-expected a lurking figure just beyond his reflection. His gaze flicked to the shower, and his heart raced as he thought he saw a shadowy presence.

With a deep breath, he hurled a bottle of soap at the shower, shattering the glass. But it was only his own distorted reflection he found in the wreckage. "Now I know I'm not losing my mind, given what just happened," he muttered, eyeing himself in the mirror.

His disheveled hair and the blood smeared across his back and hand told a tale of a twisted caretaking. Scarlett. She took the time to clean me up and take my clothes off, but she didn't bandage my wounds. Just what kind of game is she playing? He snatched off the towel beside him and wiped away the blood.

Surveying the bathroom mirror, he found an array of medical supplies: light and heavy bandages, rubbing alcohol, pliers, a stitching kit, mouthwash, and his toothbrush. She even took the time to unpack my things. Wouldn't be surprised to find my clothes folded in the bedroom upstairs. I know leaving is the smart thing to do... but the old man would never forgive me for leaving this house without a fight. I should try going to the police station at least. That might give me some clues about who I'm dealing with.

It took several painful, wincing minutes for him to clumsily stitch up his hand. Treating his back was impossible, so he wrapped bandages around it to staunch the bleeding. "I never thought I'd visit a hospital in this town so soon," he grumbled. The bloody towel lay discarded at the bathtub's edge.

Getting dressed was a grueling struggle, especially with his aching leg. He frequently leaned against the wall for support. Shadows and sunlight played tricks on his senses, every corner of the house seeming to prick him like needles. He couldn't help but feel as if something was lurking, ready to pounce. Nonetheless, his curiosity led him to the small door by the stairs.

The basement presented a chilling, dusty tableau with a rusted toolbox and a rotting wooden chair. Steel beams loomed in the dimness, and the flickering lightbulb cast eerie shadows.

"Of course the basement is creepy... Did I expect anything less from this place?"

More stairs beside the toolbox led to the forest outside.

"Reow?" A meow from behind made Alex jump. He turned to see a black, fluffy cat on the floor. It had a piece of paper in its mouth. "You've got to be kidding me..." Alex whispered, his hand reaching out cautiously.

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

As he grasped the paper, the cat lunged, biting deep into his knuckles. "Ow, you little shit!" Alex snapped, slamming it into the stairs. The feline hissed and scrambled away. The contents of the paper did nothing to ease his mood.

This wittle lady is Squirrelclaw. She's a good kitty, though a tad bit bitter towards the male species. Rejection in high school prom tends to do that to a putty tat!~ Take good care of her or I'll cut you into teeny tiny little pieces. <3

Love,

Scarlett.

The letter was crumbled up and thrown aside. "Fuck off, Scarlett," Alex muttered, storming up the stairs as best he could.

The bedroom on the upper floor had been miraculously transformed from the night before. Dust and filth had vanished, and his bags and clothes were neatly arranged. He noticed the repaired wall, where he had slammed Scarlett through, and the mirror had been restored.

His unease grew as he spotted the peephole. He hesitated but couldn't resist peeking through. A sharp green eye stared back at him, and a startled hiss emanated from the other side. The sound of a cat swatting the wall thudded, its little feet scampering down the hall. It's only been ten minutes and I already hate that fucking cat.

The door across from the bedroom turned out to be another bathroom. It was smaller than the one on the first floor, only having a small shower rather than a combined bathtub. The room beside the stairs was a spare bedroom. A stuffed bear stood in the corner, watching the door. Alex took one look at it and hesitated.

It looked alive. It wasn't breathing or moving, but its eyes followed him throughout the room. If the idea of it springing at him wasn't so terrifying, he might've chucked it down the stairs.

He had seen enough. Gathering his laptop and charger into a backpack, he decided to head downstairs. The paintings on the hallway walls seemed to watch him, families and children, their eyes tracking his every step. The sensation was overwhelming, and Alex couldn't shake off the feeling of being constantly observed.

The cat Squirrelclaw stood by the door and meowed at him. "Fuck you too," Alex said, walking toward the kitchen. He leaned against the counter and sighed. Would be a great first home. Has a bit of a constant mortal peril to it, but that's no big deal right? Right? ...I need to get out of here.

RING RING.

The doorbell interrupted his thoughts.

He froze, almost as if he'd misheard it. It rang again, loud enough to echo throughout the whole house. Alex snatched up a knife from the set next to him. "Who is it?" he asked, tensing up.

"Expecting anyone else this far out of town? It's me. You know, the fabulous article writer who inconspicuously woke you up yesterday," Rinoa's voice rang from behind the door. "I figured a big strong man such as yourself would have the common decency to let a lady like me inside your humble abode."

Squirrelclaw hissed and scampered up the stairs as fast as her little legs could take her. "Ooh, was that a cat I heard? I do love a little fluff ball!~"

Of all the times... Why is she here? Shit she did say she'd stop by. What if Scarlett comes back? Would she kill her? I should take this opportunity to- A sharp pain came from his hand again. "The fuck?" He looked beside him to see the cat holding another note. His face whitened. Is she still in the house?

He read the note.

I don't care what you do or who you see. Just don't kiss and tell about our secret activities or I'll decorate your house with an oh-so-lovely crimson red. You're mine, no matter who you see, so remember that. <3

Love,

Scarlett.

Secret activities? What drugs is this bitch snorting? Alex thought, swiping furiously at the cat.

Squirrelclaw leaped away from it and scampered back up the stairs. "Alex? You didn't die on me, did you?" Rinoa called again.

He groaned. "Only a little. Just a minute." As an afterthought, he put back the knife before opening the door.

It creaked aside with her smiling at the sight of him. She wore a pleated skirt with a cropped turtleneck. It had no sleeves and ended just above her stomach. His eyes scanned behind her. Nothing could be seen hidden amongst the trees and bushes. Not yet at least. "Come on. It's not much," he said, moving for her to enter.

"Nonsense. I positively love the vibe here," she said, walking in.

He gave the clearing a last look before closing the door. "What brings you here so early?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Early? Silly Alex, it's 1 in the afternoon."

Alex's eyes widened, looking down at his watch. She was right. "Is it afternoon already? Jesus."

"You alright there, big guy? Hope little ol' me hasn't got you looking so pale," Rinoa said, leaning against the counter.

He gave a weak smile, turning to tend to the tea kettle on the stove. He tried and failed to avoid limping. "Don't flatter yourself. You didn't come all this way just to flirt, did you?" He was about to open it when she placed her hand on top of his. "Rinoa, what are you-"

"And if I did? What would you say to that, Alex?" Rinoa asked, leaning close enough to where they were nose to nose.

Lavender perfume was all he could smell as those blue eyes of hers stared into his unblinkingly. Heat rose in his cheeks as he felt her breath. She turned, her hair slapping his cheek. "Why so serious? Did you actually think I was going to kiss you?" she teased, her hands on her hips.

He clicked his teeth. "Oh, ha ha. Bet you get off on this sort of thing."

Rinoa giggled into her palm as she took a few steps ahead. "Soo, Alex? I'm presuming you haven't eaten yet. Where are we going?"

His first instinct was to sprint back to the train station and run for the hills like a damn nuke was going to blast the town to kingdom come. His second was to go to the cops, ride with them, get locked and loaded, and blow Scarlett's ass to kingdom come. Pause. His face whitened thinking of the bull headed man that had been with her. Just what is that thing? And with that, he sighed.

"I'm not sure yet. Took all morning to unpack so I figured we'd grab brunch in town. Maybe even scope out Diaedem University while I think about applying for my classes," Alex said, turning to the stove and placing the tea kettle on it.

Whether I get murdered in the process is neither here nor there. "That reminds me... My motorcycle should be here any day now. I don't know if you noticed, but walking back home in the dark for an hour straight isn't healthy for the human mind."

"Ooh, I imagine the walk here must've been dreadful... Never would have imagined the great Alex Winter was a scaredy cat," Rinoa said, smirking. "But a motorcycle... Aren't you too cool for school?"

His eyes narrowed. "Oh please."

She glanced at the living room. "Walking around at the dead of night, sounds following you at every turn. I imagine you jumping at the sound of every animal letting out their evening cry." She turned back to him. "Didn't you say your grandfather was deceased? This house is really clean..."

"What the hell are you implying? I stayed up cleaning it myself, obviously," Alex snapped, making her flinch. The tea kettle dropped as his right hand panged again. "Shit..."

He dropped to pick up the pieces. "Touchy subject?" Rinoa kneeled to help when he shouted, "Leave it!"

She jumped, her eyes narrowing. Every part of him was trembling. It was like a deep violent rage was festering inside, beyond any logical emotion. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This is making me act like an animal. I need to calm down. If I lose myself, Scarlett wins.

"Sorry... It's been a long night. This mess can wait until later. I'm hungry as hell, so let's grab lunch in town, alright?" He left the broken kettle and stood up.

"Okay," she said, eyeing him carefully. She made for the door without another word.

Alex's eyes flashed to the staircase as he led them to the front door. Squirrelclaw stared at them from the staircase, licking her jaws. There was a person standing beside her. The color on his face drained when he recognized the build and suit of the bull headed man. As soon as they stepped outside, he slammed the door. He didn't bother locking it.