A scarlet mark upon the door, Dripping slow, a crimson brand. Judith’s breath grew quick and short. A gruesome X, crudely made by hand. Michael scoffed and shook his head. "Just some hicks who think we’re prey." James just smirked. "A little joke." Judith whimpered, "Not today." Footsteps echoed down the alleys, empty stares along the street. Shutters snapped as they passed under, whispers tangled in retreat. Mothers held their children silent, old men turned with faces drawn. Not a single voice was lifted—every welcome now was gone. They pushed inside a hollow diner, heavy air and lowered eyes. Tables left with meals unfinished, chairs still tucked but left aside. Judith swallowed, pulse unsteady, something gnawing at her chest. Michael waved but found no service, none for these unwelcome guests. A hand reached out, a voice was low. "It’s done. You should be gone." Judith turned, her breath ran cold. "Before they know what’s wrong." James stepped forward, brow now furrowed. "Who is ‘they’? Who makes the call?" Michael sighed, "This town’s insane." Judith whispered, "Not at all." The trio fled back to their car, their heartbeat racing in their ears. The car stood waiting, bathed in red, only furthering their fears. Its chassis slick, its windows drowned, thick crimson dripped from the frame. A metal husk now steeped in slaughter, pulsing, wet, a sanguine flame. Judith staggered, fingers trembling, nails dug deep into her palm. The smell —God, the smell— it choked her, thick as iron, rank and strong. She gasped for air, but iron filled her, drowning thought in fevered red. James took hold—"Judith, breathe now!"—Michael cursed and turned his head. The trio was flanked, surrounded, by figures gathered, draped in red. Hoods pulled low, their faces in shadow, yet their silence burned instead. Judith shuddered, bile rising, stomach twisted, beginning to swoon. She tried to run—her knees gave out—too much blood, too much maroon Michael grabbed her, yanked her upward. James stepped back, his breath ran cold. A hand reached out—no blade, no weapon—just a gesture, calm and bold. "Come with us." The voice was hollow, not a threat and not a plea. Judith sobbed, her body failing. This was it. Nowhere to flee.
