Crimson Flags Novels & Stories

With three hundred raffle guests ranging from eighteen to forty-five years old, I cannot afford to let my guard down. The first activity Ashton has organized for the Camp-Away event is a massive game of capture the flag. Divided into four teams distinguished by their red, green, blue, and yellow shirts and bandanas, the participants run amok across the fields and forests, shouting strategies and relentlessly searching for the opposing teams' flags. Amidst the chaos, security personnel weave through the crowd, their black T-shirts emblazoned with bold neon-green letters spelling out "SECURITY."

She raised the spirit-summoning flag in the air, and it turned bright red again, emanating a lethal aura. As she descended, the flag in her right hand was aimed toward Qasim. Qasim’s surroundings were shrouded in a red glow that was so dazzling it almost looked like fireworks. Clang! The crisp sound of metal hitting sounded. There was also a crackling sound around them. With a loud rumble, the ground instantly collapsed. Those who were unconscious from the spirit-summoning flag started waking up. They looked around them as if they were waking up from a dream, feeling embarrassed and shocked.

Looking at the sun blooming slowly while scattering its rays all over, it feels as if the darkness has surrendered itself to it and the horror of the previous night has been relieved bare for all to witness. Blake slowly moves his eyes across the hall. The blood is seen being splattered all over the wooden floor. The white walls, the original white couch, everything has been dyed in red and dried a long time ago. In some areas, the original color of the carpet can’t be seen at all. It is all in bloody red. Pieces of wolves being torn to shreds, bodies of what seem to be human as well as non-human and pieces of what used to be the door, all has been scattered all over the house.

Since then she has been after the cursed ones with a vengeance, leading the nighthawks into majority of their battles. “We got information of cursed ones sightings from one of our covens and Oniko has gone first with the red matron and others,” Damola explained. “I’ll be taking you there now, it’s time you saw for yourselves what we are up against.” I was going to battle! My eyes widened, and my heart began to race fast. Damola brought out a brown feather. “You know what this is?” I stared at the feather in her hand. Although I sensed magic on it, I saw nothing else. “A feather?” I stated the obvious.

"Are you?" "Yes, just a little wolf problem." "How about your friends?" She had been standing close to a little dark skinned girl which was part of the clan of the Nymphets. All of them with double the outstanding beauty of a vampire. "We are all good." "Okay." The adjudicator returned, holding a flooded red clothe in her hands. "You know I don't like the red robe—" She unfolded it by letting it drop whilst holding the top part of it and I saw that it was actually a red and silver embroidered one arm jacket.

I take his hand with a small thank you then stand next to him. "Thank you all for coming here..." I start. I'm not really good at making speeches but I try giving a two sentenced speech before turning and holding the rope that keeps the banner in place. I tag at it before the red cloth drops revealing. The Red Flags Exclusive Club making me gasp. Aiden didn't want me to see the name. "It suits it. Don't you think?" he asks standing behind me. I nod absentmindedly admiring the words. "Why would you do this?"

She hurriedly raise her white holy flag to block the attack from the other party. The flags collide against each other and produce a flame spark because of their collision. *CLANG!* *CLANG!* *CLANG!* *CLANG!* They keep trading blows after blows with each other, whenever the other one attack the other one defend. They keep the same pace rinse and repeat, he can tell the black one has more furor in her attacks while the white one has compassion in hers.

She closed her eyes, feeling a building heat at her wrists. “I refuse,” she declared. Vincent nodded slowly. "Then, the red will fall.” The masked figures flapped their flags, creating a red canopy above her. She opened her eyes to find threads of silk scratching her skin—light but relentless. "You cannot refuse," Vincent stated quietly. "Red silk does not loosen; red flags do not fall until crowned." Camela felt dizzy under the red canopy. She watched as the silk walls bled. Each panel featured silhouettes of a bride crying, bound, and swallowed by silk.

She smiled, “her wolf is one that needs a strong human, not just anyone can control Crimson.” My eyes darted to her and then back to the road, “Crimson, as in blood, fire and brimstone, that type of Crimson?” She sat up straight, “why would you think like that and not that it is just the color red.” I shrugged, “Angel remember, I always think that type of stuff first,” I gave her a shy smile. She nodded, “it doesn’t matter, Crimson is gone with her, unless she is now with someone who didn’t have a wolf.”

Seeing the rigid set of his shoulders and the way his pupils bled into the dark gray of his irises made Willow second-guess the daring cut of her silk dress. They were entirely isolated in the coastal silence of Redwood Bay, far from the prying eyes of the pack. He hadn't even caught sight of the nonexistent back of the garment yet.