Scarlet Snow

A blanket of pure, silvery white snow covered the dead brown grass, the sparse grey trees, hardened the surface of the icy sapphire river, masking the beauty of everything in sight. Amongst the shimmery, snow covered surrounds stood a petite wooden cottage at the edge of the vast, deep and lifeless forest. A compact, crimson Suzuki Swift drove along the invisible dirt track, pulling to a smooth halt near the entrance to the cottage. From the warm interior of the car emerged two gorgeous girls, obvious to anyone watching that they were sisters.

Serena Perrins, the older of the two at eighteen, climbed gracefully out of the driver’s side, stretching her long jean clad legs in relief at being outside of the cramped car. Long, wavy auburn hair flowed down past her shoulders; her azure and malachite flecked gold eyes sparkling cheerily. Her slim, tanned figure remained hidden under layers of cold resistant clothes, her black leather boots sinking into the soft snow as she joined her sister in the trek to the cottage.

Seventeen-year-old Elena Perrins had pulled her long, wavy garnet hair into a ponytail, trying to avoid looking too similar to her sister. The two girls had only a few differences between them, and their hair was identical except for the slight colour variation. Elena’s unfathomable lapis lazuli eyes glared at the light, delicate snowflakes, as she traipsed through the deep snow, her skinny and willowy figure the exact same height as Serena. Shivering, Elena managed to insert the key into the lock on her third try, entering the warm interior of the cosy cottage.

“I don’t see why you get to drive,” Elena complained, peeling off her suede gloves and coat, hanging them on the coat rack beside the door. “I have my P’s.”

Serena closed the door, sealing the chilly breeze outside. “Yeah, but I have my actual license, and I feel safer when I drive. I’m older too.”

“Lovely, throwing my age back in my face. The car’s half mine you know.”

Serena rolled her eyes, shrugging off her scarf and jacket. “Key word there: half. So you can drive it half the time.”

She and Elena walked through the rather bare foyer into the antique living room, containing a fireplace, two historic burgundy couches, an intricately designed coffee table and an old fashioned armoire. Kneeling, Elena stacked wood into the brick fireplace, striking a match and throwing it onto the wood. Watching the tiny flame turn into a roaring fire, Elena sat by Serena on the coach, relaxing in the warmth of the fire, their light bickering forgotten, the wind whistling raucously outside.

A shrill jingle destroyed the harmonious calm, the phone on the wood-panelled wall ringing continuously.

“Uh, must we answer that?” Serena complained from where she curled comfortably on the couch. “You want to El?”

Elena shook her head rapidly, standing and striding across to the kitchen door. “No way, but if you do, I’ll make you a hot chocolate.”

“Make it a coffee and you’ve got yourself a deal.” Serena hauled herself off the couch, marching across to the phone in annoyance, cutting it off mid-ring. “Hello?”

Silence.

“Hello?” Serena called again, curiosity swiftly being replaced with irritation. “Is anyone there?”

Laboured breathing filled the line, sending a chill along Serena’s spine.

“Hello? Come on, this isn’t funny.”

The laboured breathing quickened, but still no one spoke.

Serena’s neck tingled with a feeling that someone was watching her, the breathing on the phone severely creeping her out. A glance at the window confirmed that no one was there, but as she hung up, she couldn’t shake the sensation that she and Elena weren’t alone.

Remembering her sister’s promise of coffee, Serena forced herself to walk casually, rolling her shoulders in an attempt to calm herself as she entered the similarly old-fashioned kitchen. Taking several soothing breaths, Serena saw Elena standing at the bench, a look of consternation on her fine facial features, a white sheet of paper in her hand. A beautiful bouquet of ruby roses, arranged in a clear, crystal vase, stood on the bench beside her.

“El? What’s with the flowers?”

Elena looked at her, a worried expression marring her strikingly pretty face. “Here,” she said stiffly, handing her the note she held.

Serena took it and, with trembling fingers, opened the folded paper. There, in blood red letters, was a message. A message meant for Serena.

Soon, my love.

Enjoy the flowers.

Serena raised her golden eyes, locking gaze with Elena, her horror-stricken expression mirrored on her sister’s face. The note slipped from her tremulous fingers, falling gracefully to the hard wooden floor. “No,” she breathed, “He couldn’t be here. We left right after, there’s no way he could have followed us.”

Elena sighed sympathetically, her voice dripping pity. “Serena, you have to at least consider the notion that Par-”

“Don’t say that name!” Serena shrieked, cutting Elena off mid word, her sister shocked at the desperation and fear in Serena’s voice. “I’m sorry, but please, I’m trying to forget him.” Sinking down on the maroon pillowed chair, Serena looked so helpless and troubled that Elena could feel the pain emanating from her. Pressing a mug of coffee into Serena’s still trembling hand, Elena sat across from her, sipping her hot chocolate diligently as she waited for her sister to speak.

Her gaze trained firmly on the oak table underneath the scalding mug she could scarcely feel, Serena spoke, a tremor highlighting each word. “I never told you the whole story.”

As the words sunk in, Elena spoke up in confusion. “I thought you did. You dumped him; he couldn’t handle it and wouldn’t leave you alone, so you took out a restraining order.” Elena waited to hear what her sister had to offer in response to that.

“There’s more.” Serena drew in a shaky breath, the coffee remaining untouched before her. “While we were together, it was great. He was sweet and kind; you remember how he was that night at dinner.” Serena waited for Elena’s supportive nod before continuing. “He was always so polite and charming, but when I wanted to break up…”

A lock of auburn hair fell in front of Serena’s face, her gold eyes slowly filling with pained tears. “He changed. He grew clingy and possessive, and he started stalking me. He left me roses, threatening notes with them, like this one.” Serena glared hatefully at the vibrant roses, a tear slipping past her strong mask and trickling down her smooth cheek. Suddenly realising, she added, “He would call, not say a word, but just breathe heavily into the phone. That person who rang before… It was him, I’m sure of it. It was the exact same as all the others before, but I tried to deny it, pretend I didn’t understand who was calling.” Getting a hold of herself, Serena harshly wiped the tear away, disgusted that he could still affect her even now as she continued her tale. “One night, I walked into my bedroom and the window was open, a dead bird on the sill.” Choking as though she could still smell the revolting stench, she hastily went on. “He’d left it there, a note with it. It said ‘You’ll be next’. That’s when I got the restraining order.”

A look of absolute horror met her eyes when Serena looked at her sister. Elena was speechless for a moment, before regaining control of herself. “Is that all?” she asked, her tone betraying how much she did not want to hear any more.

“There was more,” Serena admitted, “But nothing you need to know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you.”

“I’m glad you did.” Elena looked at her sister with an odd air of admiration. “You went through hell, and here you are, still standing. God Serena, I wish you’d told me earlier.”

“It’s only been a week since I went to the police,” Serena reminded her, her eyes firmly locked on the deep brown depths of her now lukewarm coffee. “We came out here, and I thought everything would be okay.” Her voice dropped to a nearly inaudible whisper, “But he found me.”

“We can leave,” Elena suggested, willing to do anything to ease her sister’s pain.

But Serena shook her head resolutely. “No, I will not keep running from him. I am not his victim anymore. He can’t hurt me.”

Elena nodded, accepting the decision, even though her instincts were telling her to get out while they still could. They were all alone out here, civilisation at least half an hour away.

The phone rang, obliterating the confidential atmosphere. Serena stood quickly, walking to the sink to tip out her coffee. Keeping her back to Elena, Serena commanded in a cool, aloof voice, “Get that will you?”

Elena, her lapis lazuli eyes filled with sorrow on Serena’s behalf, nodded, even though she couldn’t see her. Standing, she left the room to answer the phone.

As soon as Serena heard the door close, she let down her rigid charade, striding down the hall into her bedroom. Closing the door and sinking down until she sat on the floor, back pressed against the hard, warm wood, she let herself cry, her face hidden in her hands. Tears ran in channels down her face, escaping her golden eyes and dripping off her chin, forming a wet patch on the knees of her jeans.

Raising her face, her sobs subsided as she felt something was different. Gazing around the room at her four-poster double bed, her vanity, and cupboard, she recognised what was wrong: the window was open. Knowing she hadn’t left it open when she and Elena left earlier, Serena stood on shaky legs, moving cautiously across the room to the window, lacy white curtains flapping gently in the breeze. Immediately she saw it, gasping for air as terror overcame her, new tears forming in her eyes, she read the message.

Bitch.

You’ll pay for what you did.

The message was written in a red, viscous liquid. Recognising the colour and texture, Serena lowered her eyes to the windowsill where, as she suspected, the writing implement lay. Her favourite lipstick Ruby Obsession sat innocently on the ledge, the cap off, and the lipstick column broken in half. With shaky, nervous hands, Serena reached out, yanking the two windows closed. Unable to feel safe, even with the window closed, when she knew her personal space had been invaded, Serena turned to go as the bedroom door flew open.

Elena stood there, a deeply concerned look noticeable in her lapis lazuli eyes, strands of her garnet hair framing her worried face. “That person on the phone was him. It was just as you described, the heavy breathing, no talking.” Moving further into the room, Elena peered past Serena at the window. “Hey, what’s that?”

“Nothing,” Serena replied shortly, pulling the curtain along until the horrid words were invisible. “Are you hungry? I’m feeling rather peckish myself if you want me to make you something.”

Elena watched her sister move briskly across the room, perplexed by her actions. “Sure, why not.”

Serena waited for Elena to move, before closing the bedroom door, willing herself to relax. “It’s nothing,” she told herself quietly so Elena couldn’t hear, “It’s nothing.”



Twilight fell, muting the radiant glow of the silvery snow to a dull grey, the cottage cast in the shadow of the skeletal forest. Through the lacy curtained window in the living room, the observer could just make out the two sisters, and hear their conversation through the sliver that the window was open.

“I’ll be back soon. I’ll just go pick up Roxie from the train station, maybe grab some dinner, and be back before you know it.”

“All right, but be careful. You know I worry when you drive at night.”

“The sun’s just set, so don’t worry. I’ll see you soon,” she promised. The observer wished he knew the difference in their voices; another thing the two shared.

Melting into the side of the cottage, he watched with gleaming black eyes as a girl strode over to the car, slid inside the driver’s seat and started the car. After a few minutes of warming the engine, the Swift roared to life, turning around and driving down the lane. Satisfied, he crept along the wall, making sure he kept his ash blonde hair under the hood of his black jacket. He peered inside, following the girl as best he could, as she ambled into the bathroom at the end of the hall. The bathroom window was too high to see in, so he settled for looking through a window of the bedroom that opened into it. To his utter disappointment she closed the door, so he waited, listening as the shower turned on, and steam flowed under the bottom of the door. Grinning callously, he turned away and prepared for his last surprise.



She stepped under the steady stream of hot water; relaxing the instant the water hit her body. All the tenseness left her shoulders, fears melted away as the shower of harsh droplets struck her face. Her sister would be back soon, along with her friend Roxie, and everything would be fine. Lathering berry soap onto her body, she allowed her mind to reassure her. He would leave them alone, she guaranteed herself; he was just trying to scare them. Her laugh reverberated in the tiled room, sending her own high-pitched giggle back at her. Of course he had tried to scare them, and it had worked. But not anymore. Rinsing herself of the light, soapy bubbles, she reminded herself that he belonged in the past; the future was bright, and he could not plague that. Turning off the tap, she wrapped a white towel around herself and emerged into the steam filled room. Drying herself thoroughly, she dressed in a long, white nightgown with a low, lacy neckline, leaving her hair out as it travelled in smooth, wet waves down her back. Hanging her towel on the rack, she exited the room, hearing the phone ring in the living room. Racing through the cottage in bare feet, she grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” her sister’s voice greeted her.

Perching on the couch, she sighed, grateful it was her sister and not him and his endless breathing. Just as she was about to speak, a knock on the door drew her attention. Carrying the cordless with her, she spoke into it, “Hang on a moment. There’s someone at the door.”

Opening the heavy, oak door, she peered out into the swiftly falling darkness, not seeing anyone, just the light, fragile snowflakes.

“Who is it?”

“No one, there’s nothing out here.” Spotting something at her feet, she amended, “No, wait, here’s something.”

Her mouth went dry as she spotted the red rose and white piece of paper, folded once. Gathering them in her hand, she opened the note and read the two, simple blood red words.

Time’s up.

From the shadows a blonde haired, black-eyed figure lunged at her, the chrome blade in his hand lifting up, and with practised precision, plunged the blade through her back and into her heart. “Game over Serena.”

Her body jerked as the blade forced entry, looking down and seeing the knife jutting out, blood staining its surface. A few, perfect droplets formed and fell, splattering the snow, as the knife was pulled out of her skin.

Not one to wait around and catch the show, he slunk away, melting into the shadows as if he’d never been there.

“Oh, God, Parker? Is he there? What did he mean ‘time’s up’?”

Clutching the rose tightly in her hand, the thorns bit into her skin, ruby droplets trickling along the emerald stem, falling and staining the snow. Raising her face, eyes brimming with tears as they stared straight ahead, terror etched into every feature of her face, she choked out two, meaningful words.

“Wrong girl.”

Elena’s knees buckled, her shaking fingers loosened on the silver phone, sending it falling to the ground, her body collapsing beside it. Blood gurgled out of the wound at both ends, gushing down her side, staining the white gown as it went. Her hand slowly unclenched, the red rose lying on pearls of bright ruby blood. Her garnet hair framed her face, her lapis lazuli eyes producing a single, perfect tear, sliding from her eye, its motion halting as the below zero degrees frost froze it in place, halfway down her cheek.

“Elena?”

Her body stilled, the endlessly flowing blood the only motion besides the rapidly falling snow in the darkening twilight.

“Elena!”

Elena could no longer hear her sister’s voice screaming at her, didn’t notice the snow coating her hair, eyelashes, her entire body, entering her open mouth and mingling with the still flowing wound. Her body was still, never to move again as her blood stained the blanket on which she lay, transforming pure, silvery white into scarlet snow.