Chapter V
Colour of Anger is…
Blood, thirsty, red.
He lived on the run ever since he woke up on a puddle of mud and blood. Weak, thirsty, beaten to a pulp, one knee torn apart and disoriented he searched for help, but he quickly found out that his appearance wasn’t judged by the same ways as of a human.
People were terrified by him, “Monstro! Demónio! Diabo!” they called him with fear… The last couple of persons that he reached even pulled up their swords against him… He barely managed to escape. If it wasn’t for his speed and strength they would have killed him without any kind of mercy.
So our monster, beaten, bleeding, on the brink of death, crawled to a dark alley, and slowly let the dark embrace of death smoulder him.
All alone, he let go a final cry of despair, none of witch, any living person ever heard before, so beautiful and sad at the same time, that the handful of people that were nearby, shivered with fear and mercy.
Five persons came to see the source of that ghostly sound… only one got the courage to stay by his side... Maximine…
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