short story dark themes 2 parts
The sun was bright pushing warmth into the dirt as the red flowers grew taller. Their black hearts making the darkness of the red stand out more than it really should. Her delicate finger touched each plant, clipping some out of the millions left in the field in front of the marble mansion. She smiled as warm arms collected her body and pulled her in close. “What are you doing up so early?” she purred, laughing as his head came down to nuzzle her black hair. “I found the bed was lonely when you’re not there to warm it, how in the world did you grow all these flowers?” he paused, thinking about the Darcia’s history “It’s hard to believe your family had a war on this very land about to destroy your home, 2 years ago and you do this to the land?” he laughed in disbelief. She turned to him giving him a small rough kiss to his mouth, “I’ll tell you a secret on why I could do this to the land but if you forget this secret or tell anyone I will have you killed” her family could have it done but the truth of it all was just a myth to her. “I won’t tell I swear on my own grave” he laughed as her eyes flashed with the joke for she didn’t like the idea of death all that much. “When I fought for my father I killed many men on this land” she paused her eyes turning dark with emotion “the secret to my garden is that their blood flowed into the ground, I planted the seeds and they absorbed that blood”. She smiled as if it wasn’t as morbid as everyone thought, “Flowers are carnivorous, they eat other flowers take their nutrients, but most of all my flowers love blood. The blood I spilt made them strong and darkened the colors to this dark red, so beautiful yet if you look at it in a religious way. I guess you could say the dead man’s souls are in these flowers”. He felt the pain at having to watch her almost being killed through that war between the Darcia’s and the rebellion of the people, the fact that she made their blood fertilizer made her heart seem more disturbing. What is so shocking was the delicate almost stoic way she said it, with that hint of bubbling happiness, yes is lover was utterly twisted by the war. Lucrecia was always strong, never acted like the successor of a country; she acted like a rock star that could declare war at a whim. When she first met him, he gave her hyacinths. He could still remember the ache at having her throw them in the trash, he could also remember the words she spoke “next time don’t get me something that means lady like qualities”. He never made the mistake of buying her a flower that meant docile women. She smiled as she walked through the fields of poppies the red making her black pants very distinguishable among the tall plants. “Lucrecia” he whispered and she turned around the wind whipping her long black hair back and smiled at him, his heart froze at the sight.
Crashing was heard, plates being thrown, a vase was smashed now being worthless trash. “Dominic Renatha! I get that you are mad at me but calm down” Lucrecia stoic as ever called out. He threw another piece of a precious collection of plates at her table and a chunk of the china flew up and cut her cheek. She glared as the blood dripped down her face, she stood up slammed him into the wall and took out her knife. “You are getting out of hand Dominic I will not tolerate this for another moment” her words cut into him and his anger flared. “Lucrecia you let them kill my brother in cold blood, why he did nothing wrong!!” His eyes burned with pain and mistrust. “You let them kill my own god damn brother” he looked into her eyes and saw pain and remorse but just a hint. “Your brother was the leader of the rebellion, he was going to kill me” she simply stated it as if it were the weather. “He was my brother couldn’t you have imprisoned him?” he pleaded; she cut him off with a cold stare. “You would rather have my family die? To save your brother that you never even knew? You’re pitiful; I have a country to protect from the man you call brother. I did my job, don’t make it seem like I would have spared him because I am in love with you”. He looked down at the ground, despair hitting the air as his breath quickened to almost painful. “You would take people’s lives without a second thought? I never knew you could be so cold” Dominic’s eyes piercing hers, he saw something he never wanted to see. A deep darkness had settled in, no love, no despair it was gone, only hatred for mankind. “I will do what I must to save my land, even if it meant I had to kill you” Lucrecia spoke with a dead monotone making the discussion final. “I love you, but who you are right now I can’t stand by. Lucrecia, I adore you forever but I hope we never meet again” with those final words he swore to get revenge on her betrayal.
Fir bloomed on the horizon, Lucrecia stood in the poppy fields as her home was burned down. Tears streaked her face as her form shook, her family murdered. She was the only one to make it out alive; a maid was alerted of the disaster and could only save the heir of the mansion. Dominic walked toward her and took her hand, she tried to pull away but he pulled her close. “I am sorry Lucrecia but I had to” her heart filled with dread as she kicked him away. He pulled her into a rough long kiss, her heart nearly tearing apart, bit by bit. “No!” she screamed “why did you take away everything from me!! Is this your god damn revolution! Is this what you wanted? To see me suffer? You succeeded your brother and do what he never had the chance to, I loved you, trusted you! And you did this?” her voice echoed in field as she fought to get out of his grip. He just tugged her closer and kissed her one last time “My war will make your flowers even more beautiful, for I will win it, you took away my family. I had to take yours, at least they died with someone they knew” his bitter smile made tears constant to the point she couldn’t see. He dropped her to the ground and fled into the night, leaving her to shake among her precious flowers. She thought of her little sister near 12, of her brother, her mother her father; they are all gone, burnt. Hatred consumed her soul as she set her heart on blood.