Blood In The Water

The room was a sanctuary, a hidden refuge from the world outside. A young man and woman had come here seeking solace, a place where they could escape their troubles and connect. Candles danced, casting swaying shadows around the room. The bed on which they sat was old, its wooden frame creaking under their weight. The room felt ancient, filled with the musty scent of old books and worn furniture. The wallpaper, once vibrant, was now faded, its intricate floral patterns barely visible in the dim light. Heavy, dark curtains framed a giant window, partially open, revealing a pine forest outside shrouded by the night. The towering trees swayed gently, their branches rustling in the breeze. A half moon hung in the sky, casting a silver, ghostly light over all below it. An antique mirror on the wall of their room, the only witness to their conjuring.

The young man had a brooding presence. His eyes held a mixture of determination and vulnerability. Beside him, the woman’s long onyx hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and apprehension. Her hands trembled slightly as she held the sewing needle.

They had decided to make a blood bond, a pact to intertwine their destinies. With nervous excitement and solemn resolve, they took turns pricking their fingers, watching a small drop of blood bead out of their flesh. Leaning forward, they pressed their fingers together, allowing their blood to mix. The sensation was stimulating, like they had given one another a deep shock. The flickering candlelight seemed to pulse in time with their heartbeats, casting a sacred glow around them. As their blood blended, a slight wind swept through the room.

The young man, his voice intense and unwavering, vowed, "One day, you can use my blood as your own."

The woman, though confused by the cryptic promise, felt a comforting warmth wash over her. The bond they created felt tangible, a living entity within the room, connecting their souls in a way words could never capture.

As time passed, life took the two down different journeys. The connection they once cherished faded, confident words in the past now turned to insecure whispers. Though they would brush by each other every so often, the bond that had once felt eternal decayed.

Years later, the woman found herself in a dark place, inside and out. She sat in her bathtub, her sobs echoing off the cracked tiles that reflected her fractured soul. The mirror, covered in a thin layer of dust, unable to reflect the image of her despair. The air was thick with a suffocating silence, only broken only by her sobs. Her sorrow was palpable, and in the corner of the room, a shadowy figure began to materialize. This entity, a specter of her deepest fears and regrets, watched her with predatory anticipation, waiting for her to succumb entirely to her sorrow.

As her cries intensified, she noticed a small drop of blood trickling from her finger, confused by what had caused it. Instinctively, she dipped her finger into the water, and to her astonishment, the water began to glow with a faint red hue. A wave of comfort and strength surged through her, dispelling the despair that had consumed her moments before. The eerie glow filled the room, pushing back the darkness. She remembered the blood bond and the vow made years ago, instantly revitalizing a connection she had long forgotten.

Realizing the source of her newfound strength, she decided to reach out to the young man who had once meant so much to her. As she picked up her cell phone from the bathroom floor and dialed his number, the shadow creature receded into the darkness, its power over her broken. The phone rang, each unanswered tone echoing her growing desperation. Confused but undeterred, she dialed again.

The young man was in his home cooking, a stark contrast to the woman's current environment. His kitchen was filled with the vibrant colors of freshly cut vegetables, the air fragrant with the scent of herbs and spices. Smooth instrumental music played softly from a speaker, creating a serene atmosphere. The home was a testament to his calm and orderly nature, adorned with lively plants and naturalistic decorations that gave the space a sense of life and tranquility.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a demonic figure emerging from a dark void in the corner of his living room. This evil energy, who previously preyed on his dear loved one, now faced the man confused and enraged. Meanwhile, the man's composure remained unfazed. Calmly, he set his kitchen knife down with care and walked towards the demon, who was still baffled by the turn of events. The dark spirit had no knowledge of the man's actions long ago, and now stood bested by an unfamiliar opponent.

Prepared for the day he would fulfill the vow he made, the man escorted the demon back into the shadows with quiet resolve. They both disappeared together into the darkness, leaving the light from the room behind. The instrumental music continued softly as the woman's voicemail began to play. Her voice, filled with longing and a fragile hope, saturated the now-empty home with her pleas, expressing how much she missed him and her desire to reconnect. Unknowingly to her, as she continued to speak on the other end of the line, the meaning to his once mysterious promise had now been clear. He had given her his blood to spill first in this life. So when the day came, she would have a second chance to pursue the heavens, while he waited to outwit the agents of her hell by taking her place.