Crimson Instinct Chapter 100: Title is a spoiler

**WARNING. READERS MAY FIND THE SCENES IN THIS CHAPTER A BIT DISTURBING. PLEASE SKIP THE PART IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE.**

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*Unknown*

Blood.

That is what I like; the sight of it, the sll of it, the touch of it, and the tallic taste of it when it settles on my tongue.

It is simply beautiful.

It is simply ecstatic.

It excites when I see a lot of it. It tingles sothing inside . It makes my own blood rush inside like a storm.

And then I want more of it. I want to see the ss. I just cannot help myself.

I sighed.

But people are so weird.

I recalled a past incident.

There was a young rabbit once in my elentary school, which the teachers kept as a pet. It was white and fluffy. It was cute too.

All my friends and classmates were so excited.

We fed it and played with it all the ti. In break ti, we always hovered around the rabbit.

But soon, I found it so boring. What was so special about that?

It was just an animal.

One day, when I was returning from the bathroom, I saw the rabbit again.

I went over to its side, and he hopped in his small basket, looking at .

I stared at it for a long ti before I poked his belly. At first, he giggled and seed to enjoy it.

Then I pressed a little harder, and I saw his eyelids tremble. He was whimpering in pain.

I brightened. I suddenly felt so excited.

I kept on poking it, again and again, increasing my pressure every ti. The more he looked hurt and backed away in fear, the more I felt giddy with joy.

It gave a certain sense of satisfaction. So, I started to do it every day. I would sneak out of the class, telling the bathroom excuse to my teacher, and go and play with the little rabbit.

Now, this was sothing I enjoyed a lot. Then one day, I picked up a small pointed branch of a tree fallen in the playground. I started to poke the rabbit with it.

He cried. And that was such music to my ears. But there was sothing else that was more fascinating.

Blood.

A thin line of blood was trickling from his belly. The pointed part of the branch pierced his skin, and soon, the pure, white fur of his started to stain with a faint shade of crimson.

The red stain on his spotless white skin looked so beautiful and pretty.

But the rabbit didn't seem to like it.

I wondered why. It made such a lovely color combination.

Red and white.

Then soon, I noticed that he stopped moving. I poked him with the branch again, but he didn't react. His eyes were shut. He wasn't breathing anymore.

I wondered what happened. I thought he must be tired of playing, so I took pity on him and went back to my class.

When the school got over, all my classmates started to cry when they saw the rabbit.

"What happened to the rabbit, teacher?"

One of my other classmates said, crying. "Mommy says that it is blood. When it cos out, you are hurt. I know because I hurt my elbow once. There was blood too then."

The teachers looked tense too. I heard them whisper, "Who could do such a terrible thing? Stabbing the poor creature with a branch and killing it?"

"Who could be so vicious? How will we explain to the children that the rabbit is dead?"

Kill? Dead?

I didn't understand, but I liked the sound of it. It seed to have a nice ring to it, pleasing to the ears.

"But, the red color looks nice, right?" I blurted out.

Suddenly, the teachers looked at in horror. "You don't say that, dear. It isn't a nice thing to say."

"Yes. The rabbit is hurt. We shouldn't be happy about it. It's a sad thing."

Then I noticed that my classmates were weirdly looking at .

"He is hurt and crying. How can you be happy!"

The teachers hurriedly took us away. I sensed that they didn't want us to see it more.

But I realized sothing that day.

They didn't like it. They thought of blood as sothing dangerous. They got scared of it.

Suddenly, I felt embarrassed. I thought that I was strange. I was the only one who found the scene to be beautiful, after all.

I instinctively knew not to tell everyone that I did that to the rabbit. I sensed trouble.

I kept quiet and never brought that topic again.

But the scene of that rabbit lying helpless in that basket, blood dripping out of his body, was etched in my mind.

Whenever I used to rember it, I felt such an odd sense of happiness arise in my chest. Again and again, I felt the need to do sothing similar.

I did.

I secretly started looking for stray puppies and kittens. I played with them too, and every ti they would bleed, it made happier and calr.

Then as I grew older, I learned different reactions of people to blood.

So would puke their guts out. So would even faint. So would turn their heads away, trying to avoid its sight.

In short, they avoided it like the plague.

And I feel that they are so stupid.

What is so horrifying about blood that one loses consciousness?

People don't like to see blood, but it's flowing in every cell of our bodies from head to toe. That is what keeps us alive.

And that is what kills us when it flows out of us and out of control.

So ironic. How can anyone be disgusted by its sight?

The more I thought about it, the more I felt that I was right.

I wasn't the strange one. The other people were weird.

But even if I realized it, I knew I couldn't be vocal about my thoughts and feelings because the 'other people' were in the majority.

I sighed. It was so troubleso.

But I wondered

In this whole wide world, was I only the one feeling this way? Did nobody think and feel the sa as ? Did nobody like what I liked?

Over the years, I saw different people gathering over and creating different groups that suit their tastes.

Music club, dance club, sports club, drama club, gardening club, cooking club, this group and then that group where all like-minded people ca together.

They had common interests. Strangers or friends, they shared that one thing they were passionate about.

So, if others could form their own groups, then why couldn't I?

Definitely, there must be people who were also normal like , who liked to spill blood and who liked to enjoy it as much I did.

Then where were they?

And a realization hit .

I was so stupid.

People looked at us differently. They saw us as soone weird and dangerous from whom they needed to keep their distance. They avoided us.

They feared blood.

So, they feared us.

Like how I always kept my true self hidden from others, my friends out there must be doing the sa. They would be keeping their interests hidden, too, just like . It must be so agonizing not to have anyone talk about yourself - like real self.

Who could understand it better than ?

They were there. Sowhere. I had friends. I was sure of it.

I was so happy when I understood this. I was over the moon.

But I needed sothing to bring them out. I had to do sothing so that my friends would know too that they weren't alone.

I broke into soft laughter.

It was a fun way to discover them. I won't tell you because that is my secret.

But yes, it felt so good.

I found friends. My very own friends. We ca together. We were so excited to talk about all the nice stuff. In fact, many of them introduced to a whole different world with so many thods to have more fun. Each one of them was so interesting.

Knives, ropes, acid, boiling water, hockey sticks, arrows, needlesthere were so many different ways to see that beautiful red shade.

I felt my blood pumping in excitent. It was just exhilarating.

Unfortunately, we knew that the other crazy people wouldn't just co to us for our enjoynt.

I didn't understand why. It was fun, after all. But this was the perfect chance to introduce them to our world and let them see how wonderful it was.

So, we had to think of a thod to bring them to us.

It was nothing much, just tricking them a little. Once they were here, there was no way out.

Just like that, we enjoyed our ga. The 'others' who always shunned us, called us crazy and weird, were now begging us to let them go. They were crying and screaming, and oh God, that was such pure bliss.

Just a few days ago, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves with a woman, beating her into a pulp. Everything was going so well, but damn, sobody saw us.

It was a little girl, maybe seven or eight years old. Thank God we caught her.

It was a bonus for us. We didn't even have to look for another person.

We had twice the fun that day.

And now

So other guests were waiting for my friends and .

This ti it is a teenage boy, and we also got one dog! Once again, a bonus.

My eyelids flickered.

The dog...That soldier's dog

It was such a long ti since I played with an animal. Surely, the soldier won't mind it, right? It would be just a bit of fun.

I smiled.

So, now I have to go. I have to satisfy my thirst and my thrill once again.

I have to go to follow my instinct.

My crimson instinct.