Red, Stop Dead

August 29, 2010
By Rahh42 SILVER, London, Other
Rahh42 SILVER, London, Other
7 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
Never, never, never give up. - Sir Winston Churchill

A quite mild night. A full moon high in the sky, that enlightened the golden maple trees that lined the street, flooded them with a dull light, giving the entire area a faint orange-golden glow. A gentle breeze surged threw the air rustling the splendour of golden trees, creating a magical sound like a wind chime. A lone rain cloud sitting up above set about delivering its gentle payload of drizzle. The pitter-patter of the rain falling on the maple leaves combined with the sound of the rustling of the trees to create a magically rhythmic and peaceful sound.

At precisely midnight, a candy red Yamaha YZF-R1 Motorcycle roared down the street with animalistic noise and agility. Its rider wore a black leather motorcycle jacket, with a red scorpion sting on rear, a solid black matte finish helmet with a chromed red star in a circle on the left side. It came to an abrupt squealing halt. Roughly, half way down the falcate shaped road named Maplewood Crescent, outside house number thirty-three. The rider turned off the purring engine and walked his bike to the front gates. It was grand like all the others on the street; it gave an impression that the resident could almost be royals. Aged iron gates with tall terra cotta red brick columns stood proud over the grand abode. The rider propped their bike up against the gates, removed their helmet to reveal a black balaclava, and started to climb, in a slow and stiff manor over into the front garden. A lengthy gravel path, wide and long enough for a very large HGV to fit on comfortably led up to the garage positioned to the left of the house. It looked like a five bedroom house and had striking exterior with many gothic futures. A well-pruned Beech tree sat to the front of the left of the driveway with a white washed garden bench by it’s base.

The intruder headed towards the glossed Seal brown wooden door to the garage. There gloved hand entered there pocket and removed a small rectangular shaped metal plate. Using it as a crowbar succeeded in opening the garage door and access to garage. In the garage there was an array of impressive vehicle three ATVs each on a trailer, one hitched up to a black Land Rover Defender SVX, an Aston Martin DBR9 in racing green fully sport kited out, and finally a Mercedes-Benz S-Guard capable of with standing high-velocity ammunition. To continue into the house the intruder needed to type a code in to a key pad, from there pocket a tiny bottle of ground resin that they blew on to the key pad the numbers two three seven and nine where the ones with finger prints. The intruder looked around him for any clues. The intruders penetrating azure eyes that looked like a sky on a bright, clear day came too rest on the Aston Martin DBR9… the gloved hand punched in D-B-R-9 and the accept button.

A metallic clanging sounded, as the very heavy solid oak door was un-locked and nudged open. The inside of the house was superbly furnished; infatuation took hold of the intruder as they took in a deep breath and wondered in awe. Due to the moon light entering the house, every thing had an Alice -blue tinge. Two entire suites of armour stood tall and proud guarding the entrance of the house holding Halberds. The entrance hall where the garage door led in to was striking in the very centre was a fountain like one would expect to find in the centre of a park. The fountain was statues of gold plated a warrior casting water out of there swords held above there head and a young girl with a Mongolian style bow and arrow with water flowing from the arrowhead tip. Surrounding the vast windows hung crimson velvet curtains. On an ancient grand fireplace roared a moderate fire and on the mantelpiece sat a freshly cut array of red and white roses and a bough of Holley. Huge crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling refracting the silver moonlight in an astonishing manor.

While the intruder had been reflecting on the beauty of the single room the single occupant of the house at that time had woken up and come down the grand staircase to stretch her legs. She was carrying a plump cherry apple and a hunting knife. She began, in absent minded fashion to cut it in to pieces and eating them. The woman wore a silk white nightgown that came down to her mid thigh; her red hair came down to just below her shoulders. The draft caused by the open garage door made her hair to ripple like fire. Her beautiful and symmetrical face turned ever so slightly to the side and a small grimace came across her face when she noticed the intruder, she looked so young and innocent, until fear and anger kicked in, her glare directed at the intruder was full off defiance but then she smiled. She flicked open her sonny Ericson royal purple w380i mobile and also her new Samsung M8800 Pixon, she had hidden in her candy cane knee high red and white socks. Taking the intruder my surprise she sent two pre-written text messages, one a detailed will sent to her lawyer dividing up her vast and expensive as well as priceless possessions to family close friends, and the second a brief distress text sent to the local police station. She also started playing Primavera by Ludovico Einaudi An awe inspiring song on the Samsung. Then returned the mobiles to her socks .The mobile was connected to the house hi-fi system and so the melody filled the space and took the intruder my surprise yet again, as magical sounds resonated through out the whole house filling every nock and cranny with the heart warming song.

The woman smiled. Exclaiming in a very educated tone that was very relaxed yet still in an authoritative manor, ‘Greetings stranger! It’s beautiful isn’t it?’ Meaning both the house and the song, ‘my name is Hermosa.’, as she spoke her name a charming southern Spanish Valencia accent kicked in giving the intruder goose bumps. ‘Welcome to my humble abode. I take it you have already taken the liberty of looking around. What do u think kind sir?’ The intruder said nothing but his charming azure eyes gave every thing away. Hermosa’s hazel eyes full of fear like a rabbit in headlights looked around frantically. She stood herself so that the grand fountain was between them both. She re-removed her Samsung and started to call the police to enquire why no one had arrived yet. This move seemed to anger the intruder his azure eyes turnings blood shot and red. This moment clouds blocked out the moon light, seizing his opportunity he lurched backwards towards the shinning knights’ armour, grabbed one of the four feet 16th century halberds, and advanced towards Hermosa. They stared at each other, his eyes red full of aggression, blood lust, passion and hellish hatred. Her returning gaze although calmer seemed to have the same passion red colour as her hair begging, warning for him to stop.

Fear ruled her last moments but she continued her defiant stance clutching the apple in one hand and the hunting knife in the other. The intruder with the advantage of the much longer weapon walked on forwards holding the axe head to the ground and advancing with the spike. Fear and defiance held her to her spot as he got close she threw the cherry apple at him, he raised the halberd in defence and the spike skewed the apple mid flight, this and the flying fragment of the apple left the damsel in distress with a small advantage yet in ignorance she attacked the man. She swung with the knife, the man only just parry it with the canter of the pole. The force cracked the priceless antique old wood clean down the middle. The man dropped the useless pole end and swung with the axe. She backed out of range of the axe but not the spike.
Her throat had been slit. The song playing in the background reached it’s climax piece that sent shivers down both of there spines as the Deep crimson blood spilled out with extraordinary pressure. As the vast amount of blood, exploded from her neck the blood took it’s flight shape of a perfect sphere, the intruder acted like a stencil for the wall behind him leaving a solute of him on the wall. His clothes had been completely drenched in crimson blood causing his balaclava too be saturated with this hot sticky substance. Also in the range of fire was the fireplace that was burning a gentle orange flame. Blood droplets splashed in to the fire and burned creating a smell like burning meat or gravy. The white roses where intoxicated by her blood and turned, no longer unique, red with her warm blood. The bough of Holley also received a hail of drops that appeared as beads that looked like berries that then where rejected and flowed off the waxy surface. She fell to her knees, hot sticky blood dripping down her white nightgown staining it red, using all her remaining strength to stare him in his azure eyes with as much aggression and courage she could muster. The backing track to the slaughter had returned to its original calm self. As he starred back, watching her life slowly drain away a gust of wind blew her dark red hair causing her hair to flow and flicker like a raging inferno. Gradually the movement of her hair stopped and so did her heart. BANG. She collapsed on to the floor abruptly ending the music playing. Head smashed on the floor, her bloody body landing in a pool of her own red, hot blood. She was dead.

The eerie silence made the intruder anxious this kick stated his senses and heightened them. He ran right threw the front door setting of an ear piercing alarm ignoring it he sprinted as fast as his legs could manage and bounded over the iron gates. Removing the sodden balaclava, he revealed blood stained short silver wispy hair. Placing the balaclava in the compartment under the seat, he mounted the candy red bike put on the helmet stuck the key in and turned it, the dash bored lit up and the engine roared to life, and he was off at 180mph in to the distance.

The author's comments:
The above is a piece of work i did in year 9.

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