Crimson Road Novels & Stories

Alison's Point Of View The landscape of Crimson Pack stretched before me, but it was nothing like I remembered. As the car bumped along the uneven road, I stared out the window, trying to reconcile the lively place I once came to call home with the desolation that now greeted me. The streets were eerily quiet, the bustling squares I used to love reduced to barren stretches. Shops stood half-empty, and the market stalls sagged under the weight of neglect. The vibrant pulse of life had dimmed, leaving behind a haunting stillness.

Crimson prayed silently. TBC

he groaned in pain. "That's for stabbing me," I said, pulling another trigger as it pierced deep into his right leg. "And that's for attacking everyone..." "That's okay, ma'am. We have to go now..." Colt interrupted, grabbing the pistol from my grasp as he led the way, taking me along. I gave a glance back at Marcus, who laid there, dead or unconscious; I couldn't tell. Eventually, after running through the forest, we arrived at a roadside. But something was off. I had been in Las Vegas for as long as I could remember, yet it seemed I didn't recognize this road.

Dawn did not bring silence. It only made the sounds clearer. The courtyard of Crimson Hollow was a map of what the night had taken. Bodies lay where they had fallen—some Bloodmoon, some our own, a few in Ashwood colors who had arrived too late to do anything but die beside strangers. The smell of burned pitch, blood, and the sharp metallic aftertaste of silver fire hung in the cold morning air. Healers moved between the living and the dying with the quiet efficiency of people who had already accepted that not everyone could be saved.

The headlines hit the corporate stage like a series of brutal, devastating explosions. “Crimson Foundation Plummets… Again!” The media coverage was absolutely brutal. Graphs and stock charts showed Crimson’s company value dropping in a horrific, straight vertical line. Across the city, Alpha Crimson was just finding out the hard way that I had deep, invisible strings to play, even when we were completely separated and standing on opposite sides of a war. He had thought he could threaten me at the council meeting because of his physical warriors, but he had entirely forgotten that I could destroy his life with a single phone call from my desk.

“It’s officially dead, dead.” “Where are you calling me from?” she asked. “Um, some wrecking place I managed to break down in front of.” “Of course you did,” Kimmie said with a chuckle. “Did you call Ell?” “Um, I can’t.” “How come?” “The shop is owned by a motorcycle club,” I whispered, and glanced at the door again to make sure Booker wasn’t listening. “So?” she whispered back. “Hello, I’ve seen that Sam Crow show… they’re not entirely above board.”

I answered unwaveringly. "Okay" Crimson walked towards Tryamon, she stretched out her hands for a handshake "my name is Crimson, Aethelfrith's betrothed" Tyramon's phone fell from her hands, her eyes widened but she managed to compose herself quickly. "Aethelfrith betrothed?" Tyramon asked, looking unsure of what she heard. "Yes, you heard right" Crimson smiled, "my hands are still on the air" "Oh my, forgive my bad manners" Tyramon forced a smile, reaching out to shake Crimson's hand.

If he gives them his blood, it might kill him or backfire in any other number of ways. I turn back towards the crystal and the few spirits that linger and demand they ask for some other payment. However, they merely ask for the same thing again and again. Letting me know they will not change their mind. “Damn it!” I yell furiously. “Damn it all to Annwn!” The group behind me jumped at my sudden outrage. Only Max stays near me, as though unafraid of my anger. I don’t need to look at him to sense his worry for me as I feel his hand gently touch my back in comfort.

I looked deeply into Crimson's eyes, pools of fiery determination, and found solace in his unwavering support. "But how, Crimson?" I questioned, my voice trembling with a mixture of regret and uncertainty. "How can I right the wrongs I have done? How can I heal the pain I have caused?" Crimson's presence strengthened, his ethereal form growing brighter within my mind. "The path to redemption lies in your actions," he explained, his voice infused with a pearl of wisdom. "Show Shea the depths of your remorse, and let your actions speak louder than any words can convey.”

Death draws me towards it like we have been attached with an unbreakable string. Maybe it's just a superpower in which I get the last chance to save the person in front of me or maybe it’s a curse. Particularly a Crimson curse, as I like to call it. Through the years the number of deaths I have seen is greater than my age. You would think that death doesn't affect me anymore. You are right to think that because that is what I had thought until 5 days ago.