Red is the Color

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
a fantasy short story happening in an Apocalypse Tehran.

Submitted: May 27, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 27, 2017




Written by: A.Motaei

falling of a giant airship from the sky onto the city and destroying half buildings, the giant walls were crowded with more soldiers and gates sealed to quarantine the city. Inside the city fire rose and guns fired, bodies fell on top of each other and screams filled the emptiness of the streets. Sun shone upon the deserted land outside and weather was warm-hot, but a cold breeze blew, nevertheless it did not make any changes. The darkness of night would fall very soon but yet still the warmth was frustrating. Slowly a rider began to show up, wearing a long rusty brown leather over-coat with a black glove worn by his left hand. Covering his face with a black and white scarf around his neck and a Persian Scimitar knotted to his saddle, riding a black horse galloping to reach the giant southern gate. He still had more than 50 meters to reach the gate that suddenly a sound rose from the gate, the sound belonged to an officer of the gate. “Halt! That’s far enough.” He said. “no entry by the order of the King.” The sound was coming out through a loud speaker for the distance between the officer and the rider was far too long. The rider had to shout more than usual so that his voice would reach the officer. “I must enter the city.” The rider exclaimed. “I have a very important business inside the city.”

“So does everyone else who ends up at these gates” the officer answered. “but by order of the Kind and council of the World’s peace, all traffic including entering or exiting the City of Tehran is banned, go away and be on your way now.”

The officer then disappeared and went back to his work. The rider turned his head around to see a white tent some meters away with a fair distance from the wall. A man was sitting in front of the tent, what he was doing from looks of it seemed to be sharpening his sword with a special stone, as the rider went nearer he could see him clearly. The man had a white ponytailed hair along with a long beard in the same color. He was wearing a shiny silver piece of armor but covering most of his body with red clothing and a short red cloak. A two-sided great cross sword left side made from pure silver and the right side from hardened steel with a red-golden handle. On the Sword, there were symbols of ancient Persia visible. The man rose his head while he continued striking the blade with a black stone. “coming from a long way are ya?!” he said. “they’re not letting anyone near the walls. Stupid young lad!” he pointed with his finger at a dead body near the wall. The rider dismounted from his horse, tying it to a plank near the tent. “stupid indeed.” The rider said. “how long have you been here?”

“long enough for my hair to grow white!” answered the old man. The rider uncovered his face while laughing unintentionally at the old man’s goofy joke. “but jokes aside…how long has it been?” Scratching his beard the young rider asked.

“not too long! For about a week or two.” The old man said wrapping his long sword in a piece of white cloth. “but the Air-Ship fell around that time too…have you been here since they sealed the city?!” rider asked.

“You could say that.”

“but do you know why the quarantined the city though?”

“of course, almost the whole country knows why by know. You must’ve been on the road and alone for while if you don’t know!”

“that I can assure you!”

“I know a traveler when I see one” said the old man giggling and grabbing a bottle of wine and two cups from inside the tent. The bottle was transparent and the rider could see a pale red liquid bouncing inside it. “the Air-Ship contained Nuclear chemicals, more than a hundred-people turned to monsters, throwing their claws around whiting the first two hours. For the regular folks, it was a nightmare they say. I’ve fought some of those monsters Kilometers away from this city on the southern wastelands, but… they’re nothing compared to the things I’ve heard of from inside the city.” Said the old man pouring the cups with the pale red wine.

“you weren’t inside the city yourself?” asked the rider. “oh, hell no! but I rode here as soon as I heard the news, I was in the city of Karaj you know.” The old man handed a cup to the rider and said cheers! And drank all of the wine in the cup immediately. The rider, however, emptied the cup on the ground. “not a drinker type” he said. “it was mostly water.” The old man exclaimed. “you can’t find any good wine in these wastelands anymore!”

The rider answered with just a smile on his face and then looking to the horizon.

was getting cool, cool enough that they could feel a slight drizzle moving on their skins. The old man stood up and started a fire to light their place of sitting. “are you a soldier?” asked the rider.

to be more precise” answered the old man

“a Shev?! the Special order of the King?! And they don’t let you inside?”

“not even the King himself can enter the city now! The council of the world’s peace ordered to seal the gates to anyone.”

“darn it! I was hoping you could get me inside with that title of yours!”

“sorry to disappoint you kid… what’s your business after all?”

“I’m looking for someone, but with the city being sealed…I might have to abandon my mission.”

“is this person a loved one?!” “Oh well, for some others he might be!”

“so, he isn’t one for you! You know that anyone inside…are most likely to be dead or…changed to monsters by now, right?!”

“it doesn't matter, to be honest, I wasn’t here for a rescue mission anyway!”

“I see… are you Hungry?” asked the old man going inside the tent. “I’ve been on the road since morning…and now it’s all dark…I am hungry enough that I can eat a whole cow” said the rider.

hold your horses now! We don’t have that kind of thing here!” said the old man laughing while grabbing two pieces of meat and coming out. “but we have a little bit of meat to eat!” he said as he set the meats on top of two sticks and held them on the fire to cook them. Eating them was a little hard but there was nothing else to eat in that condition.

Rider took a bite and said, “didn’t catch your name by the way.” With his mouth, full. The old man left his bowl near the campfire and stretched his left hand towards his sword. Before the rider could swallow the meat inside his mouth, he started to vomit suddenly! Dropped to his knee feeling like he was choking.

Wrapped his hands around his neck looking up to the old man standing above him with his sword drawn. “My name you ask?!” said the old man grabbing the riders foot with his other hand and dragging him on the ground as he paddled to free himself. The hour was dark and no one was roaming these deserted wastelands outside of the city. The old man released the riders foot near the body he showed him when they met. “see this body? A young fool like you he was!” said the Old man. The body lacked one leg “the meat you ate was of his leg! Poisoned with paralyzing medicine! Tell him Red sent his regards and tell him he was delicious, you know…he kept saying that he wasn’t!” continued the old man.

The rider kept struggling to get away, but he could not even stand up. The Old man only stood and watched as he moved begging for a way to be freed. The rider couldn’t even say a word, he completely had his senses lost. He couldn’t feel or smell, he barely could see and hear. The sky was going darker and darker every minute. It didn’t take long until the Greatsword fell on his neck, cutting his head away from his body. Blood flying in the air, his head rolling on the ground losing its vision. The Old man grabbed the bodiless head of the young rider. “they say brain works for forty seconds after the head is cut. I’ll tell you my name now, Red is the name, same as the color of your life from now on. What shall we call you now?! Oh yes, RED RIDING HEAD.”


© Copyright 2018 A.Motaei. All rights reserved.

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