Bloody Rossie: Tears Of Vampires
1. That Rain
Part 1's
Will this night of grief that is dragged down will it subside? The deep red gelayut mingled a flash that danced ferociously in the black sky hiding a starry glint. Ernest's black irises darted between the swiftness of the curtain of water that struck London. His ears buzzed with the whispers of the wind scrambling to tell him something. Ah, Ernest was just about to ignore the story in a language he didn't know. Quite a chill from his wet clothes that tells how the earth's spin has given him a story.
Weight. That was the feeling of his footsteps due to the exhaustion of the journey to this land. Hugging yourself doesn't give you a hint of warmth. Has the weather and his weak body trembled him? Not likely. Just a step away he had his goal up, so where could this fire possibly be that easy to extinguish. Do you understand the fire in question? The desire? The spirit? An ambition? Or maybe love? Ernest himself was not even able to define it to make it easier to understand. Most importantly the fire was not receding for the sake of someone he had to save. Since the night full of blasphemy and betrayal, the word survive became a mandatory menu of daily meals.
The wind-like pace of the devil slapped the leaves mercilessly, throwing them apart forever from the mother. There was no way he would unite again, the leaves would definitely dry up and die. The phenomenon was able to hit Ernest's feet causing his black coat to wander in the wind. He was stunned to see it, thinking of how the leaf had lost its way only to die of drying out. The importance of the questions present teases the mind. Is the leaf a symbol of his life? The compass of his life has been shattered.God knows, Ernest is sure of it. But after the terrible crime he committed, is he still entitled to hope that the leaf is not himself? It feels like not knowing yourself.
His finger was tightly tied to the handle of the suitcase, which he was reluctant to let stretch in the slightest. Too precious. More than treasure. There was his heart that was sleeping peacefully in a large suitcase hanging on his right arm, while a small suitcase filled with world pebbles was in the rest of his hands. For a long time he guarded the heart he had wounded with the greatest sacrifice, the good name of the family and the trust of a king. But the price was still very small because his sleeping heart was the sustainer of his race.
His eyes were sharply squinted at the ancient castle at the end of this rough road. The castle that stands surrounded by the fort and artificial river looks haunted from a distance. Rats may not have the guts to party there. Too scary when the sun is reluctant to linger in the sky. However, his loyal servant must have done something so that the castle was habitable, at least an ant was still willing to visit. He would be content with it when compared to the shabby inn he had been living in on his way here.
The violent glare of the strong wind slightly shook his steps, he was forced to stop. Cold bone stabbing becomes so-so. Kelu and sick. The journey for two full moon turns will reach the end, at least he is grateful even though it feels heavy and needs to destroy the achievement of his life. It'sit's okay. This is nothing compared to the disaster that awaits him there with his dead lover.
Ernest glanced at the large suitcase, softly praying helplessly for someone sleeping in it. My heart, my love, Eien. Be patient for the suffering I have given you. Expect God to be willing to be at least merciful to us.
