Elle Santiago
Royal Watermelon
Torches flickered, shining a dull orange glow against the dark stone floor littered with thick chalk marks, waxing candles, and human bodies. As if a switch in your mind was flipped on, the next time you inhaled, you smelled what you just knew was blood, smelling like copper and rust then you smelled feces and--
And you breathed through your mouth, feeling the foul stench cover your tongue, dry throat gulping thick saliva. You blinked as you remained in place, a small “ah--” escaping your mouth, but your lips thinned and closed. Every breath you took was shallow, quiet, but even the slightest movement, the way your clothes moved as your chest rise and fall, the way your heart beat, the way your eyes blinked, it all felt so so so loud and--
Movement. The torch crackled, and the shadows laughed, waving and waving and waving against the walls and the ceilings and the floor. Your eyes drifted and then focused on a woman’s body. Her dress, it was knee-length and kinda green, but it was red now. Red, red, red, red! She was facing up, staring at you, with eyes glazed and cloudy but the light from the torch made it look like she was looking at you, looking at you as if you were to blame and you had no reason as to why. Her chest was crimson, so was her neck, her shoulders, her blonde hair.
Blood flowed flowed flowed down the cracks of the room, and it continued to ooze out of her and from so many others, encroaching your position, your small stone tile that was so so cold and there was so many blood why was there so many and why were you barefoot?
You saw it in painstaking detail. How the blood shimmered in the torches’ light. How it ran on the floor so so slowly, erasing the chalk marks, extinguishing a candle that melted too fast, small smoke drifting up as the candle’s light went dark. A steady stream of blood inching closer and closer to your feet until it was mere centimeters, millimeters, nanometers, and--
It was wet. And thick. Thicker than water, and it outlined your bare feet, and you felt the blood sneak through the crevices of the floor, and it touched you there and it was blood. It was real blood. You felt it. This was no dream. You felt the blood on your feet. There were so many…
1. Stay calm. This never happened. This is not happening right now.
2. Freak out. There’s so many dead! Why why why why why???
And you breathed through your mouth, feeling the foul stench cover your tongue, dry throat gulping thick saliva. You blinked as you remained in place, a small “ah--” escaping your mouth, but your lips thinned and closed. Every breath you took was shallow, quiet, but even the slightest movement, the way your clothes moved as your chest rise and fall, the way your heart beat, the way your eyes blinked, it all felt so so so loud and--
Movement. The torch crackled, and the shadows laughed, waving and waving and waving against the walls and the ceilings and the floor. Your eyes drifted and then focused on a woman’s body. Her dress, it was knee-length and kinda green, but it was red now. Red, red, red, red! She was facing up, staring at you, with eyes glazed and cloudy but the light from the torch made it look like she was looking at you, looking at you as if you were to blame and you had no reason as to why. Her chest was crimson, so was her neck, her shoulders, her blonde hair.
Blood flowed flowed flowed down the cracks of the room, and it continued to ooze out of her and from so many others, encroaching your position, your small stone tile that was so so cold and there was so many blood why was there so many and why were you barefoot?
You saw it in painstaking detail. How the blood shimmered in the torches’ light. How it ran on the floor so so slowly, erasing the chalk marks, extinguishing a candle that melted too fast, small smoke drifting up as the candle’s light went dark. A steady stream of blood inching closer and closer to your feet until it was mere centimeters, millimeters, nanometers, and--
It was wet. And thick. Thicker than water, and it outlined your bare feet, and you felt the blood sneak through the crevices of the floor, and it touched you there and it was blood. It was real blood. You felt it. This was no dream. You felt the blood on your feet. There were so many…
1. Stay calm. This never happened. This is not happening right now.
2. Freak out. There’s so many dead! Why why why why why???
00 - Prologue >>> Next [01]
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