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The night of blood
#WritcoStoryChallenge
I blinked as I regained consciousness. I had hit my head hard, or had someone hit me? Then I realised I was holding a bloody knife in my hand.
The tip of the crimson red glistening knife was trickling with blood and my palms felt sticky and looked crimson, the blood seemed to run down on my elbow and I realised I lay in a pool of blood, my silk blouse and pastel pants got all bloody red and my hair too got sticky and wet with the blood.
There was a buzzing in my head and my left temple throbbed ,like a frog was attempting to jump out of my head. I don't know why I was still holding on to the knife, I propped my torso up to get up and sit. I couldn't pull myself up,like every cell of my body wanted to lie there and just sleep but the blood started stinking and it was cold and gross.
As I rested my hands on the side I touched something. Something sticky and cold, like the finger of a zombie and I turned around abruptly in shock. There lie this man and I recognized him at once. Ofcourse , this was the man I've worked for the past seven months. He lied on the floor on his front, his eyes wide open reflecting my horrified face on his bulging eyeballs.
I got up suddenly and my head started to spin ,I turned abruptly choking on the smell of the blood and my foot slipped and I fell hard on the ground, on the sticky blood. Thank God my head didn't hit the ground, but I felt on his back and I wanted to get away from him quick. I left the room to the corpse that was once my boss and his whole pool of blood. It was an unusually huge kitchen.
I turned to the right and it led to a huge drawing room full of antique art pieces which I was completely wondering at, a few hours ago. I checked the time, I came to this place roughly seven hours ago, it's midnight now.
I recollected how foolishly I was gazing at these antiques few hours ago, totally unaware of what was going to happen to me. I totally messed up, I shouldn't have fallen to this trap at all. I should leave this place. But it was midnight and I was in the middle of the woods. I should have learned to drive when my father insisted so much. I don't know how to drive, I need someone to pick me up. I could call the cops. I forgot my bag and I went in search for it inside the kitchen and found it covered in blood. I picked it up and wiped it with my blouse and tried to unlock my phone, it wasn't working. I tried to clean it and found that all the parts have been soaked in blood, I had to give up. I looked up with disappointment at his smashed phone, I stomped at his phone when I found out he was filming me. I have no phone to call anybody to help me out of this place. How stupid I was to trust an old man, to befriend him to just oggle at some painting and furniture.
I walked to the left adjoining room, the one with huge ivory bed . I walked in leaving red footprints against the white marble. I entered the huge bathroom and saw my toothbrush with paste on it, that I put before all this happened. I went to the sink and looked up at the mirror. Right before all this happened, I was standing right at this place. I could see it all over again. My left hand touched the bobby pins I put there when I undid my bun. The cotton swab of my residual makeup lied on the right side. My comb with a few strands of hair after I brushed it has been lying on the right too. Now my bloody red fingerprints painted this sink. I thought my face looked tired last night, after the work and travel . But now my face looks terrific. There are red blobs near my eyes, on my nose and cheek, like freckles. The blood has stained the skin on my face red, but it's not like the warm blush you get, it was contrasting, harsh red dried blobs of blood against my pale cold skin. My ombre hair looked like it was covered with muck. It smelled of lavender this morning and now smells like I can puke my guts out on it. As I look at how ghastly I look now, I felt a set of prying eyes on my back. Like last night , when I was preparing myself for a bath here. I turned back and saw there was nothing, of course last night it was Mr. Darcy and now he's dead in the kitchen, how could he be filming me now. I turned back to the mirror and saw him smiling at me, with his golden tooth missing.
I blinked as I regained consciousness. I had hit my head hard, or had someone hit me? Then I realised I was holding a bloody knife in my hand.
The tip of the crimson red glistening knife was trickling with blood and my palms felt sticky and looked crimson, the blood seemed to run down on my elbow and I realised I lay in a pool of blood, my silk blouse and pastel pants got all bloody red and my hair too got sticky and wet with the blood.
There was a buzzing in my head and my left temple throbbed ,like a frog was attempting to jump out of my head. I don't know why I was still holding on to the knife, I propped my torso up to get up and sit. I couldn't pull myself up,like every cell of my body wanted to lie there and just sleep but the blood started stinking and it was cold and gross.
As I rested my hands on the side I touched something. Something sticky and cold, like the finger of a zombie and I turned around abruptly in shock. There lie this man and I recognized him at once. Ofcourse , this was the man I've worked for the past seven months. He lied on the floor on his front, his eyes wide open reflecting my horrified face on his bulging eyeballs.
I got up suddenly and my head started to spin ,I turned abruptly choking on the smell of the blood and my foot slipped and I fell hard on the ground, on the sticky blood. Thank God my head didn't hit the ground, but I felt on his back and I wanted to get away from him quick. I left the room to the corpse that was once my boss and his whole pool of blood. It was an unusually huge kitchen.
I turned to the right and it led to a huge drawing room full of antique art pieces which I was completely wondering at, a few hours ago. I checked the time, I came to this place roughly seven hours ago, it's midnight now.
I recollected how foolishly I was gazing at these antiques few hours ago, totally unaware of what was going to happen to me. I totally messed up, I shouldn't have fallen to this trap at all. I should leave this place. But it was midnight and I was in the middle of the woods. I should have learned to drive when my father insisted so much. I don't know how to drive, I need someone to pick me up. I could call the cops. I forgot my bag and I went in search for it inside the kitchen and found it covered in blood. I picked it up and wiped it with my blouse and tried to unlock my phone, it wasn't working. I tried to clean it and found that all the parts have been soaked in blood, I had to give up. I looked up with disappointment at his smashed phone, I stomped at his phone when I found out he was filming me. I have no phone to call anybody to help me out of this place. How stupid I was to trust an old man, to befriend him to just oggle at some painting and furniture.
I walked to the left adjoining room, the one with huge ivory bed . I walked in leaving red footprints against the white marble. I entered the huge bathroom and saw my toothbrush with paste on it, that I put before all this happened. I went to the sink and looked up at the mirror. Right before all this happened, I was standing right at this place. I could see it all over again. My left hand touched the bobby pins I put there when I undid my bun. The cotton swab of my residual makeup lied on the right side. My comb with a few strands of hair after I brushed it has been lying on the right too. Now my bloody red fingerprints painted this sink. I thought my face looked tired last night, after the work and travel . But now my face looks terrific. There are red blobs near my eyes, on my nose and cheek, like freckles. The blood has stained the skin on my face red, but it's not like the warm blush you get, it was contrasting, harsh red dried blobs of blood against my pale cold skin. My ombre hair looked like it was covered with muck. It smelled of lavender this morning and now smells like I can puke my guts out on it. As I look at how ghastly I look now, I felt a set of prying eyes on my back. Like last night , when I was preparing myself for a bath here. I turned back and saw there was nothing, of course last night it was Mr. Darcy and now he's dead in the kitchen, how could he be filming me now. I turned back to the mirror and saw him smiling at me, with his golden tooth missing.
