Chapter 1 – Bloody
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Chapter 1

The moon light dimmed as a woman in a flowing black robe ran hurriedly through a small peaceful suburb. She would switch from running on sidewalks, to running on roads, through yards, and hidden alleys. She was changing directions. She was trying to hide herself from something that was following her. Occasionally, she would look behind herself, only to hasten her escape.

She glanced at the lit porch lights of the houses she passed. The light seemed to dance as if to mock her for even trying to run.

If only someone would notice me. Damit!

Nevertheless, she continued running. Her rapid footsteps were muffled by the damp ground. She glanced behind herself as she turned onto an alleyway.

*tatatata*

She finally saw her pursuer. They were a person clad in purple, who was about a block away, chasing after her. Briefly, she managed to get a glance at their face. The woman saw that the pursuer had two mouths. One mouth on the forehead, and another mouth below their nose. They had what she assumed to be a calm expression. Her eyes met her pursuer’s eyes, their mouths smirked before calling out.

"She is over there!"

The pursuer had two identical and emotionless voices. One of which was ever so slightly delayed when compared to the other.

Shit… What did I even do for the purple ones to chase me?

The woman continued her flight. She dodged running through a park by using nearby houses to obscure her chaser’s vision and then changing directions. The pursuer, was slowly, meter by meter, closing in on her.

*tatata*

They got closer and closer until, while on a highway, her pursuer caught her. They grabbed her arm, while her face contorted in a mix of surprise and fear. She pulled and twisted her arm as she struggled to break away from the pursuer's grasp. She tried to kick them and run away, yet she couldn’t get away. Her hopes met with stiff resistance. The purser sneered.

"Finally, no mo———

*Hoooooonk*"

A horn sounded as two large headlights quickly crested a hill 10 meters away from the woman and her captor. The two didn’t even manage to turn around before a semi-truck hit the two while the owner frantically slammed the breaks while trying to swerve.

*CracleSnapPoof*

The woman and her pursuer’s bodies were pushed under the semi’s wheels as their blood sprayed into the air, and mixed into a cloud of blood that swayed and floated delicately in the air.

The semi-truck finally managed to come to a stop. The driver called the police and paramedics. It took a couple of minutes for them to find the truck, but they seemed to ignore the swaying mist of blood. The mist had floated in place, while people passed and the semi left, and it just swayed and floated there for that short night and day. Yet, when night came once more, the mist of blood started to move and drift around.

The mist of blood drifted from place to place, countrysides, forests, plains, suburbs, deserts, tundras, cities, and anywhere else it could find.

It moved fast during the day, as if it was trying to run from the sun. When night came, the mist of blood moved and danced in joy from house to house, street to street, tree to tree, and decade to decade while soaking in the moonlight.

During its journey, the mist of blood would occasionally collide with strange floating grey blobs, which it would voraciously absorb.

From absorbing the grey blobs, the mist of blood gained and experienced many memories.

Memories of a bird who flew for years in the sky, only to die when it landed.
Memories of a tree which grew to find the ever elusive sunlight.
Memories of a dog that happily chased after bugs, toys, its family, and its own children.
Memories of a young child who sought her family’s love when her own abused and starved her.
Memories of a content old man who, when he was young, was lost, only to find his family when he met and then grew old with his husband.

From these memories, the cloud of blood started to gain awareness. The mist realized that moonlight kept it alive. Like sunlight does for plants. The sun did nothing besides annoying it. The mist of blood wished it could swallow that darned thing.

The mist didn’t know what to do, so it did what it has always done, wander. The mist of blood decided to float aimlessly through the night, until it entered a graveyard. In the graveyard, there were thousands of those grey blobs.

Upon sensing the grey blobs, the mist seemed to gain a sense of direction. It moved towards the grey blobs. The blobs tried to avoid it. After it began to chase and absorb the strange grey blobs and their experiences, gradually, through piecing together thoughts and ideas it had gained, it realized that grey blobs were some sort of fractured souls. Each of the fractured souls were a small portion of a dead being's past life and memories.

The mist of blood, after absorbing about a hundred grey blobs, decided to rest when the sun began to rise. It was the first time it had lost consciousness since it gained awareness, and it awoke in a panic. Yet, its rest had done something to it.

The mist had gained the ability to grow and remove eye-like organs on its ‘body’. From these eyes, the mist could see, smell, taste, hear, touch, and communicate. At the very least, it could use them to communicate with itself.

The mist of blood was elated with its new ability for a long time. It had gained memories of sight, smell, hearing, etc. from the grey blobs. Yet the mist had never seen, heard, or smelt. In its joy, it grew one eye after another. With these eyes, the mist began to inspect the world around it. The mist no longer avoided sunlight.

It watched as a hundred ants fought a spider.
It watched as a caterpillar ate and ate until it became a cocoon.
It watched as a rabbit hid in a farmer’s field.
It watched as a deer was hunted by a human.
It watched as a baby grew up into a happy young man.

It watched that man from his birth until his death. It felt joy and sorrow when he did. It laughed, cried, was sheathed in anger and despair while watching. The man, well... The mist lived and watched him like a child does their parents.

How he fell in love.
How, through tears, he lost everything.
How he struggled when attempting to create a new everything.
How he grew old.
How his family cried at his death.

The mist had tried to interact with him and what it saw, but nothing responded. The man it thought of as a father and best friend never knew of it. The ants, the caterpillar, the rabbit, and the deer. The mist of blood was ignored by them all. No one knew of it.

No bird would sing along with it.
No dog would run with it.
No fish would swim with it.
No human knew it.

Year by year, it slowly stopped watching non-humans, for they became more and more alien to it. Some animals did have the emotions it did, but none did the same as it. The plants and animals did not feel nor think like the mist did.

The humans thought like it.
The plants didn’t.

The humans laughed like it.
The ants didn’t.

The humans dreamed like it.
The rats didn’t.

The humans cried like it.
The cats didn’t.

That strange mist of blood is me. I have been trying to communicate with the World around me, partially because I thought that there might have been psychics of some sort after absorbing a bunch of memories. Yet I have had little to no success in contacting others. In fact, this is the thirty-fourth time I have told my story to no response. I know that no one is listening, but talking to the World makes me feel like I am not alone.

You see, even though I cannot interact with the humans, I occasionally grow attached to them. I watch their lives and root for them when they do good, and scold them when they do evil.

The humans I watch can not listen. I know they don’t know that I exist…. yet when they die, I feel broken. It is… as if I have lost a part of myself. So, in my grief, I consume their bodies’ fractured souls. When I do so, I feel like those humans have become an inseparable piece of me. Through my memories, I remember living a lot of lives. Yet I have not lost, but have found myself.

I was Emily.
I was Tom.
I was Afaen.
I was Igwe.
I was Li.
I was Haafe.
I was Tim.
I was them, and so many more, and through them I have become myself, Bloody.

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