'Red was the color. And is all the color that's left for them. I promise that when I leave, they will all be covered in red.'
Father Thomas sat in a corner with his head covered in both of his palms, sobbing softly to his defeat. Today, he had failed to save Enrique, a 10-year-old under his care. One by one, the boys in the village had died from an unknown disease. They call it the 'Red Plague'. The plague begins with dark red spots as tiny as a dot appearing on the bodies of the boys. They first thought it was mosquitoes or some sort of insects' bite but the red dot grew day by day. It only took three days for the plague to spread to the rest of the body. At first, the boys' bodies looked like they've been dyed red. But within seconds, their bodies will start to bleed. Before death, their bodies turn completely red as if they've been skinned alive. No one knows what to do or how to cure the disease. Help was requested but before help could even reach the village, Father Thomas feared that it might be too late.
What was odd was that the disease only seemed to be infecting boys within the age of 5 to 10. And only boys instead of girls. Even when quarantined and with no contact with one another, the disease still hit the boys. It doesn't seem to infect those who are older or younger than 5 to 10 years old.
Three more boys were lying on the beds arranged in the infirmary of the church. Father Thomas could only look at the boys. He had lost his hope. Now, all that he could do was to watch them die. This is not right, he thought. They don't deserve to die this young. But he knew he could not blame God for this. God can't be at fault. There have got to be a better reason why this was happening.
"♫Tili-tili-bom. Krichit nochnaya ptitsa. On uzhe probralsya v dom. K tem, komu ne spitsya~~♪"
He jolted up to a stand in surprise. In the corner where he was sitting, he can see clearly a figure was standing by the side of one of the boys' bed which was the last bed nearest to an open window. Cold wind blew inside the room. The window was previously shut tight. There was no one there before. It was when he was lost in his thoughts, as he rationalizes, that this cloaked figure had entered the room through the window and sang the lullaby in Russian.
"Who are you?!" He asked in a stern manner. He felt less intimidated by the figure cloaked in red. It was smaller and shorter than him.
In answer, the small cloaked figure continued singing the lullaby; "♫On idet... On uzhe blizko... ~~♪"
"Answer me at once!" Father Thomas demanded. But his eyes were widened in horror as the small figure pulled its' hood down. It was a boy. Not more than 10 years old with his skin pale, eyes bluer than the sky and hair in the color of ember. "No... It's not possible," Father Thomas mumbled to himself as he fell down to a kneeling position which leveled him to the same height of the boy.
The boy smiled at him sweetly. "Am I not your little red riding hood, father?" The boy asked. The tone was of innocence but the voice was pretty distorted to be that of a boy. He walked closer to Father Thomas who was in tears and had started to pray. "God can't save you," he continued. "These boys must die, father. I was merely saving them from men like you! May their innocence remain intact in death, unlike me!" The voice grew in its distortion to a growl as the boy got even closer to the father.
With their faces only inches apart from one another, the father started to beg; "please...., Kirill. I didn't mean to kill you. It was an accident," he explained. His voice trembled.
"Oh. That must mean you also didn't mean to rape me?" He asked. To that, the father kept his mouth shut. His days were numbered but he never counted this would be the way for him to pay for his sin. "You'll come to hell with me, father. Now I'll forever be your little red riding hood. You'll have a fate worse than death!" He ended his words with both of his small hands wrapping around the throat of Father Thomas. A twisted smile was formed on his face and his eyes turned dark blood red. There will be four bodies left in the infirmary tomorrow. But only one of those souls will be eternally tormented.
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LYRICS CREDITS:
A Russian lullaby entitled 'Tili-Tili Bom'