City of Gold

            He felt himself begin to weaken, his body becoming numb. There was so much blood. It was everywhere. The room was filled with it and his nostrils were consumed by its acrid odor. The deep garnet red assaulted his eyes, making them burn. The walls were splattered like a grotesque painting and the once-fine furniture soaked it up like a bandage. Slowly, Miguel took a step into the room. He felt as if he were in a nightmare as he approached the two bodies that lay near the once-luxurious bed, now covered in oozing red. Reaching out a hand, he touched the silky, black hair and stroked the smooth white skin, now graying with the tinge of death. His mother, his beautiful, vibrant mother —she was sprawled face down, her arms protectively holding Miguel’s father, their heads inclined toward one another, both in death’s embrace.

            Miguel fell to the floor beside them, the shock overtaking him, making him so cold. His eyes began to ache and wetness spilled upon his cheeks. Fists clenched, he looked up, his eyes frantically scanning the room. He was searching for something, anything, to tell him how this could have happened. What demon from hell could have caused this heinous crime? He felt the anger boiling in his veins. His blood pumped hard and fast, and pounded in his ears. Taking a deep, calming breath, he kissed his mother’s silken hair and touched his father’s bloody hand, then made his vow. With revenge in his heart, he got to his feet and took one last look, until the gruesome scene before him was imbedded in his memory.

Miguel turned away, his green eyes afire as he strode from the room, his coat snapping in the air behind him while his boots clicked determinedly upon the hardwood floor.

            Demon, beware...