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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #2029222
Macie's village is cursed by structure, tradition, and hidden behind four walls.
Prologue: What Truth Lies in Blood

The gunshot rang out across the forest, bouncing off into the distance and echoing back at me. Seconds turned into an eternity as I watched the beast fall. It wasn't supposed to be this way. The blood that seeped from the patchwork pile of pelts was supposed to be black as the night sky. Not the forbidden color. Not red.

The child’s frantic cries brought me back to my senses. I crouched down, my knees sinking into the virgin snow. The silver pistol lay gleaming a few feet away from me, discarded and forgotten as I reached out shaky hands and touched the mound of fur. My white gloves disappeared into the soft surface, melted snow seeping through the fabric covering my hands. Gently, I pushed my hands deeper into the dark fur. I pulled away and stared numbly at my own upturned palms, coated with crimson. The lump in my throat grew. The ability to swallow was lost to me. Once again the baby cried out, audibly squirming in her cloth bindings.
Slowly I raised myself up on knocking knees and made my way around the body staining the snow more and more every second. The child wiggled and writhed, beginning to scream even louder as the blood seeped into her blanket.

The beast had one arm tossed over the legs of the baby and I let out a silent cry of disgust as I moved its hand gingery to the side, careful to avoid any more contact with the forbidden color. Hot tears stung my eyes and threatened to overflow as I pulled the baby out of the snow. There was too much red. The thought of carrying the blue-eyed babe in the ruined wrappings she wore sent chills down my spine. I quickly undraped the babe, freeing her golden curls and exposing her tender flesh to the chill. She wormed around in my bare hands, flailing her limbs in distress. It broke my heart to see her soft skin redden with cold and her nose drip with snot. I held the babe to my chest firmly and draped the blunt of my red hood across her bare back.

Apologizing to the golden-haired babe gave her no comfort, so after the third or fourth time-I stopped. The snow crunched under my feet as I made my way passed the fallen corps. At the moment it seemed like the little lightweight pack I had dropped at the base of a great oak was my only hope. The blanket was easy to find, folded neatly at the top of what little I had brought along with me. I shushed the girl and bounced her awkwardly on my knee as I swathed her in the dark blanket. It was the only thing I could dress her in that keeps her warm as well as free of the accursed russet stains that seemed to infect anything it touched.

Finally the fretful suckling settled down, snot dripping steadily on her upper lip. I dabbed at the baby’s face with my sleeve carefully. Movements stained not by red, but by guilt. She quivered slightly even in the warmth of her new garb. I took a shuddering breath of relief, soaking in the silence of the forest.

It wasn't long before I set out. Pistol holstered securely at my side, babe on hip, and pack pulled tout over my left shoulder. I walked as quickly as I dared with the tot in tow, eyes darting this way and that at every sound the forest made. My own heart thunders in my ears. A twig snaps.

The trek home would be long, but not nearly as difficult getting back as it was getting here in the first place. I wanted to forget the cave, the feral beast and its behemoth size, and most of all…

I cast a glance back into the far reaches of the forest, with no hint of anything gone wrong other than my faint footprints in the snow. If a wicked fay were to see my tracks and follow them, its

lips would surely curl in a ghastly grin at the blood-stained snow. Beasts of the wild had black blood. The wicked fay of the night-time forest had black blood. Everything evil and horrible that hid in the shadows had black blood. But according to everything I was ever taught, everything I ever believed in, only humans had red blood.

The baby gurgled, unhappy to be ignored. I stopped momentarily to stare into her blue eyes. "Shush..." she would need a name by the time we reached the village. "Macie." I decided. Her little face lit up at the sound of her name. "Yeah, that’s it. Macie." I smiled down at the child, my body cold, my mind numb, and my heart torn. Fragmented between what I’ve always known and what I know now.
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