Crimson Violet

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Violet awoke in a state of disbelief to find herself in an elegantly decorated 18th century English manor. The night before she had been out drinking with her university friends in the streets of London, enjoying their last night out before heading back to the States. However, the throbbing pain of her head proved that the horrors which transcended that night were not a dream. She had been attacked by two men, dragged into the black belly of an alleyway, and at the mercy of their lustful desires. But just when she thought any future resistance was futile, a man shrouded in darkness came to her aid. As her surroundings fell black, she heard the echoing sounds of screams, a thud, and felt a soft touch at her neck. Ballard, a senior detective, is soon put on the case of Violet’s disappearance. As the detective dives deeper into the investigation things grow dark as a series of murders begin, appearing like a scent trail, all of which are young women bearing a striking resemblance to Violet.

Mystery / Romance
Age Rating:

A Terrifying Encounter

The clinking of the glasses and chatter muffled as the wooden door closed with a heavy thud. A sigh broke the new silence along with a puff of cold breath into the air. Wind whipped through the sparsely populated street, the plank sign above her creaking in retaliation. Fog pillowed from the stacks atop the surrounding buildings, puffing quietly into the grey canopy above.

The London street was an unfamiliar sight for the young woman who stood outside of the Red Lion Pub. Violet lingered momentarily gazing upward, falling into a trance as her mind raced, deep in thought, watching the smoke dance in the sky. The chill of the night air caused her to subconsciously pull her coat tighter, she then walked a few paces and around the corner to lean against the brick, a flicker erupting from her hands as she lit a cigarette.

“What the hell was that.” She exclaimed in an exasperated sigh, the palm of her slender and pale hand coming to rest on her brow, cigarette smoke streaming silently, elegantly, into the cold night air.

“Mason, of all people…what a shocking confession.” Violet felt a bit guilty knowing that her sudden exit would likely come across as a rejection (and flat out rude). Another sigh escaped her lips as she leaned her skull backwards against the chilling wall, her shoulder length burgundy hair a contrast to the grey surroundings.

Mason was “the perfect” guy – handsome, well-off, polite, and extremely popular. There wasn’t a girl around who would turn down his advances. But it didn’t matter who fell in love with her, she simply didn’t have an interest in romance after observing her parents relationship growing up. Her father was an alcoholic with a violent streak and even hotter temper. Violet couldn’t recall how many times she came home from school to find her parents at each other’s necks in a heated argument, broken shards of beer bottles littering the kitchen floor and tears streaming down her mother’s purple cheeks.

By the time she had entered middle school, her mother had experienced enough pain, escaping into the night leaving her husband and daughter behind. It wasn’t like Violet couldn’t understand her mother’s desire for escape, but there was a bitter resentment for the woman who escaped alone, without her. She hadn’t seen her mother’s face since, and in all honesty, it had become omitted along with her childhood. All that was left in her memory was long blonde locks, draped in a tangled mess over a void that was once a face.

It wasn’t long before the cigarette had finished its course, the last bit of ember falling and snuffing out in the cobblestone. Now she was just stalling. Not wanting to go back, not wanting to face the situation inside.

Rummaging through her purse she pulled out her sanitizer, gum, and body spray. Ironically, she smoked but hated smelling like a ‘smoker.’ She had started young, curious if the nicotine could pacify her mind and soul once her father’s attention had fallen on the only one left in the house, along with his rage. It didn’t do much to soothe her injuries, but it became a habit that stuck with her long after his passing.

After applying her post-smoke regime, she began packing away everything when the dull sound of shoes on stone caught her attention. Looking upward she saw two figures looming over her, their sudden and shocking appearance sending a shiver down her spine.

A British accent, thick with drunken slur, broke the silence between them, “Hey beautiful. Wanna go have some fun?”

Her eyes narrowed into a glare as she snapped back quickly for them to (more or less) stick it up somewhere the sun didn’t shine. Was this normally how Londoners picked up girls? Wasn’t much different from back home. She thought sarcastically, upset with herself and lack of caution. Getting hit on was nothing new for Violet. Her almond jade eyes, thin nose, and full lips sat proportionally on her oval face that was framed by soft, thick cascading red locks. She was no movie star, but if it hadn’t been for her short stature she could have made it in modeling with her unique look (according to those around her).

“Whoah! A feisty one!” The approacher’s voice broke her thoughts and she shifted her gaze to see they still remained, even after her threat. The lighting on the side of the building was faint, a tall lamp post roughly ten feet away lit their backside, and the lamp mounted above her was out, making their faces nothing but a black mass.

From their silhouettes, she could clearly tell that one was much larger than the other. His broad shoulders one and a half times the width as the one speaking. Your classic chihuahua case. She thought, holding back a grin. He needed back up only to be all bark and no bi...

Her thoughts were suddenly cut short as her body was forced backward and along the wall. She heard the scattering her things falling from her purse as it hit the cold ground. They had both taken her arms and forcibly dragged her deeper down the street and into what appeared to be an alleyway. The shock of what was happening closed her throat as fear ruptured through her small frame. Violet began to flail, kicking and pulling in every direction she could. Their grip tightened and her skin burned beneath their fingers.

“We don’t mind em fiery.” The leader hissed as they forced her into a submissive position on the ground, her back forced straight along the damp wall, legs bent sideways and feet pulled back towards her thighs.

It’s in those moments of desperation and fear that your mind begins to remind you of what you hold dear, and what you’d rather have left in the dark. Tears began to race down her cheeks, as her best friends faces flashed in her mind, their meeting in Highschool, the salvation that came with it. Then in a ripple of water they vanished, and the darkness formed into the shape of an older man. His lips in a snarl, and cheeks flushed from alcohol.

Her father looked down on her, words spitting out in a vicious slur, “Useless! Trash! Follow your mother, you slut!” The parade of insults continued until she blinked hard, attempting to clear her vision. She found it worked, only for his haunting memory to be replaced by her even more devastating situation.

After entering back into reality, her mouth opened and a scream erupted only to be cut short by a large hand. Her body trembled, but never did it stop squirming. Desperation for escape welling up in her limbs. If she could just resist them a little longer, a faint hope her friends would come to get her filled her heart. A smoke break wouldn’t take this long, please...please come looking for me.

“The more you fight, the more it turns me on.” The leader whispered in her ear, his hand moving past her coat then under her shirt, tracing her belly. A shudder of disgust erupted, and she wiggled violently. No, no, God no! She screamed inwardly, the hot tears streaming from her swelling eyes. The hard press of the hand against her mouth lightened slightly as they became occupied with other indecent acts. It was enough. Within a split second, her chin was moving up and her teeth biting down, locking on viciously to her assailant.

A husky scream erupted from the larger man. “You bitch!” He seethed, grabbing her hair and ramming her head back against the wall. The pain hit her like an explosion, as if her skull had split apart, her vision blurring as a warm liquid began to trickle down her hairline, tickling her scalp.

“Gah, I’m bleeding!” She could hear his voice and make out his muffled curses. The pain surging through her head and ears made it hard to concentrate or even move. The motivation to escape seeping out like the blood from her head.

Move…..move…. She begged her body, but it wouldn’t respond. She was blacking out, the cold air brushing against her exposed skin which still burned in disgust with their touch.

Just when she thought all was lost, a loud cry pierced the air and she felt the lightening of her body as it was released. She struggled to focus her gaze, peering inside the belly of the alleyway to see another large figure shrouded in darkness. It looked as if his head was merging with her assailant. The smaller one had scrambled to his feet and fled, leaving his partner at the mercy of the black phantom, his shrieking drowning with distance.

“” She spoke, her voice barely a whisper, “help.”

A loud thud echoed in her ears, a soft touch registered on her neck, the smell of musk and tobacco entered her nostrils, then all was lost.

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