User:ColoredWithCrimson



Grace. No one knows her last name. But many call her Crimson Colored Killer. This is her story.

Blackness. All blackness. Pain seared horribly in her left eye, and her chest. Right where her heart was. Or SHOULD be, anyways. She sat up and a stabbing pain swirled in her bandaged up head. She was still in her black cardigan, white tank top, and grey jeans. Except they were torn and bloody. A bandage was over her left eye, and one large wrap that stretched her back was over her heart. "She's awake." A gruff voice mumbled. Grace looked around in a panic to see that she was in a hospital. "W-who are you?" She whispered to a man in a doctors coat, who seemed to be in his early 40's. I saw a girl with glasses in a blue doctor's coat in the corner. Her fiery orange hair was pulled up in a tight bun. "I'm Doctor Teman." He replied in a monotone voice. "You were taken here a few hours ago." He didn't seem the slightest bit concerned. "Why? What happened?!" Panic singed her words. "You killed someone Grace." He turned to the door. "The police are outside, waiting for you to fully wake up. You're going to jail for 28 years." This must be a joke. No way, Grace thought. She absolutely remember nothing. The nurse slowly approached her and whispered in her ear. "Crimson was beautiful on your father's corpse." She smiled at Grace. Grace's eyes widened in suprise. "But now, you must escape." Before I could say anything, she was pinning Grace's down on the bed. She grabbed a scalpel and carved two slits in the corners of Grace's mouth. Oh, how horrible the pain was. A Glasgow smile was now inflicted into her once average face. "Shh... It's almost over..." No noise could escape Grace's throat, but tears of pain poured from her eyes and down her cheeks. The nurse grabbed a needle with thread and sewed the corners of her mouth that she had just cut. On her bottom and top lip, the nurse sewed stitches into Grace's lips. They did not connect to anything, but simply left threaded stitches in them. "Good. Perfect." The nurse ripped the bandage away from Grace's left eye and smiled. "Look." She handed the shaking, mortified Grace a hand mirror and she screamed. Her left eye was just a series of black and red scratches in the groove where her eye socket was. Blood was running down her left cheek from her gouged out eye. Her mouth looked like a stitched doll. Legend says, every last drop of sanity left her body.

Running down the hospital hall...

Body beneath her...

Screams...

"One last color..." This was Grace's voice. Things were finally playing in her mind normally. The last few minutes had been like short clips. Grace plunged the knife into the guard's heart, and a splash of blood sprayed upwards. She giggled as she got off his dead, bloody body. "One last color..." She liked that. "You did not deserve your heart Harold." Grace scoffed at the dead guard.

Legend goes, that The Crimson Colored Killer is very real. She kills those who do not deserve a heart. VERY little is known on her past (Almost nothing really). But it is estimated that there is currently about 160 victims in her clutch. Only 4 have survived. Be warned. If you do not deserve your heart, the last color you will see is crimson.