MotRD: Sarah's Story Prologue

O Death.
O Death
O Death
Won't you spare me over and over



My name is Sarah...
And I have been brushed by the Red Death.

I was only 14 years old when it happened.

My parents where at a Hunter Ed. Meeting. I had caught the flu, I couldn't go. They left my brother home to make sure I wouldn't get into trouble (ha ha). Looking back, Timothy would've been safer if he hadn't stayed at all.

Within two days I had gotten over the flu, being my normal overly-hyper self. Then he decided to show his ugly face. The demons who attacked me, the sons of bitches from your worst nightmares, they would crash through a window, bust the door down, attack while I was taking out the trash, you name it.

But then you had the Red Death.

He had just knocked.

That was it. And I had answered.

"Hi, baby!" a voice like dark, melting chocolate purred as I opened the door. I nearly gagged. The demon's who had attacked in the past-Lillith, Lucy, ect.-actually tried to HIDE their demon selves.

But then you had the Red Death.

His skin was a wine red color-I wondered if it got that way naturally. His eyes where a bight yellow, almost glowing. He towered over me, worse that my brother did. He wore a slick black trenchcoat covering black trousers. I tried to ignore the fact that his feet split into two different sections at the toe.

It suddenly dawned on me that this man, this monster had been stirring up all the shit in Kite City, the next town over.

This was the Red Death

"Sarah who is it?" Timothy asked walking into the small living room section of our trailer. I acted on instinct: I slammed the door and ran for the Winchester. I had been able to get within five feet of my trusty rifle before my older brother's blood curdling scream filled the small trailer like a gunshot.

I again acted on instinct. I abandoned getting the rifle and sprinted back to the living room. To my horror, I saw exactly what made him scream. There was a long cut, all up and down his arm, cutting into his dull black "Greenfield Band/Choir Students" T-shirt. He collapsed, coughing all the way. Blood seemed to leak from his very pores. He screamed in fear and agony, blood staining our ugly tan carpet red. The Red Death knelt in front of Timothy, raising him left hand-on which his index finger...or CLAW is more likely, glowed.

"STOP IT!" I screamed. The Red Death looked over at where I was standing. I took a fighting stance.

"Listen, pal," I yelled, "If you wanna fight or kill me, go ahead a fucking TRY! But leave my brother out of it!"

He stood, leaving my brother shaking on the floor. "Too late," he purred, showing off crooked, yellow teeth. My eyes fell to Timothy who was still on the floor. He was still bleeding from the pores and coughing violently. I rushed to his side. He kept coughing, blood flowing from his mouth.

He was dying.

I sighed, defeated. "What do you want?" I asked. The Red Death chuckled as he dropped an envelope sealed with a blood red stamp. I picked it up, tears staining my eyes.

I had already lost Austin, I couldn't bear to lose my brother—the Batman to my Joker, the Panty to my Stocking, the Rin to my Len.

"Read it." the Red Death said. I opened it carefully, just in case it was rigged. Within the envelope was a decorative flyer with the words "Masquerade" printed on the top in gold lettering. I skimmed the flyer quickly. The words "masque" and "ball" stood out like sore thumbs. I gripped the letter in rage. That was it? He made my brother suffer just to invite me to a ball. I felt two clawed hands grip my shoulders.

"With the whole seizure, progress, and termination of the disease where the incidents of half an hour" he whispered in my right ear. I heard my brother let out a strangled "yelp" sound.

"Get the fuck away from her." he hissed, coughing violently. I clenched my fists.

"If I go," I said fighting tears, "you'll heal him?"

"I'll give you the antidote, if that's what you're talkin' about."

"Fine. I'll go to your fucking ball." I muttered.

"There's a good girl." he purred. I looked down at Timothy. His normally pimpled face was covered in blood, his eyes wide in horror. I could almost hear the "You shouldn't have done that" he was bound to say after all this was done.

"One question-" I stood to face the Red Death, but he was gone.

I helped Timothy stand and helped him into his room. Believe it or not, I tucked him into bed.

Like he did for me when we where itty-bitty kids.

I started worrying. I didn't even own a dress, much less a ball gown. Maybe I could call Jasmine.

I walked to my room, the biggest bedroom in the trailer, and sat on my bed. I happened to look at the foot of my bed. Folded perfectly was a square of wine red fabric. I picked it up, unfolding it. A simple black masquerade was revealed underneath. I studied the dress. It was a simple red, one shouldered dress. I tried to ignore the fact that there was a triangle cut out of it in the stomach region. The back of it was like a corset, with a black sash going around the waistline, like a belt.

The world was going to fuckery, and I was going to a fucking BALL.

My name is Death and end is here