001: Red

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Red.

One of the primary colors.

Red.

A color that signifies fire and love.

Red.

The color of blood.

Red.

A color that signifies embarrassment and anger.

Red.

A perfect personification of my anger.

Of my hate.

That is what I'm feeling right now.

Distrust.

Betrayal.

Pain.

All these powerful and negative emotions swirling at once inside my chest like a raging storm as I glared at the man in front of me. My mind is a mess for thinking thousands of reasons—reasons on why I shouldn't kill this person, this motherfucker in front of me.

I felt my blood rushed towards my head, my heart beating erratically. I let out a shaky breath, a fail attempt to calm my simmering anger. I felt my teeth elongated at a very alarming rate, obvious and visible evidence of my dilemma. I saw in a short distance, was my face being reflected in a mirror. My face was distorted and feral just like an animal hungry for blood, as my once blue eyes turned lavender then finally settled into gold. And all I see is—

R E D.

"Snow! Please forgive me! I'm sorry for lying! Please—j-just, just calm down—"

"Calm down? CALM DOWN?! YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO TELL ME THAT! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!"

"Per favore, figliolo. Snow—"

"Don't you fucking call me that."

"I'm sorry, okay? I was just trying to—"

"Tell me."

"W-what?"

"I don't want to fucking hear your excuses. Tell me everything. EVERY. SINGLE. THING. NOW," I growled darkly as my gums started to ache so badly for clenching my teeth so tightly. The bastard only paused and looked at me with guilt and pain. Opening and closing his mouth like a damn fish, trying to come up with an answer but my patience was wearing thin.

"You know what? Fuck it! Don't tell me!" I spat out a curse at him while glaring darkly before I ran out of our house. I can hear the hurried footsteps of the jerk, following me closely. I can hear his heart racing rapidly even though I was a few meters away from him as he called out my name over and over again.

"Wait! Snow—"

"I told you to don't fucking call me that!"

"Danny! Son, where are you going!"

"Far away from here! Far away from YOU!"

"No, please—wait!"

I vaguely heard the bastard called out my name once more but I gave it no heed as I ran faster. My body was a blur as I entered the dark woods. My bones keep cracking and shifting abnormally as I felt an excruciating pain travel through my body. But I didn't stop running even when I felt my body change and shift into something. I pushed my body further as I jumped, soaring towards the sky like a bird. My body was changing as silvery-white furs sprouted out of my body. My grunts turned into whines that oddly sounds animalistic.

I landed in fours as I felt my senses heightened. I let out a growl and a whine, feeling like utter shit. My mind is borderline going crazy while my wolves are being a bitch. I looked up to the sky and glared hatefully at the bright full moon, mocking at me. I let out a howl, cursing the gods—especially her for causing this pain.

'Fuck my life!'

| | Pause this scene. | |

—Okay. You guys must be curious about what the actual fuck is happening, right?

You see, the man earlier, a disgusting one if I should say so myself, is no other than my father. Yes, my freaking fucking father.

My flesh and blood.

The very man who single-handedly raised me. The very man who taught me practically everything. The very man to who I tell my secrets.

And the same man who also lied about my whole seventeen—oh wait, make that eighteen years of existence.

Meet my stupid excuse of a father, Emilio Mendez, a single father, an Italian, and also a freaking weirdo. I know, worst combination ever. One of the world's renowned authors, or so they say.

He's also the stupidest and annoying shit that ever exists to mankind.

Then there's me, his only and very fortunate 17-years-old son. (Please note the sarcasm, thank you).

The name's Daniel Mendez.

I know, not the best name but still better than some damn princess name. Yeah, you can totally tell the hatred that I have for them. You see, my stupid excuse of a father thought it was cute to name me Snow White. Yes, you heard me right.

My real name was Snow White.

Was is the keyword, people.

Anyway, when I was born, my stupid father thought that I was cute, that I look like Snow White—no, more like, "way fairer than Snow White", his stupid words not mine. I don't know how he comes to that conclusion when all I can think about is I practically look like an alien when I was born. (I know how I looked. I saw the pictures and let me tell you this, it was not cute at all). It's either he's blind or just plain stupid. Or maybe he's both.

That just sad, right?

I mean, what the hell? Who in their right mind, would name their own son after a fucking Disney princess anyway? I am a guy for Pete's sake! But nooooo, my stupid father begs to differ so he went and named me Snow White which obviously, left some of the staff of the hospital bewildered. (I know, even I would too.)

So long story short, several years after I realized that I was named after a damn Disney princess, of course not before enduring the annoying taunts and jeers from the bullies, I straight out threatened my father to fucking change my name or I swear to god, I will leave him. And it did the trick, well sort of, but that's beside the point.

The point is that this piece of shit here lied to me.

Lied about my life.

Lied about my very existence.

Okay, I know you're curious why am I mad at this prick.

Why don't we go back a few hours earlier?

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