Chapter Text
The red string of fate.
A mysterious occurence in which one day, a red string starts appearing on one's finger, and supposedly it connects two soulmates together.
Nobody knows how, or why, but it just does, and apparently everyone who follows the red string and meets their fate assigned soulmate is said to live happily ever after.
Rutile doesn't believe in things like this. They say it's bullshit, it's a lie, it's just something somebody made up for fun.
Until it happens to them.
They're just reading their favourite book on their bed, and it's a chilly Sunday afternoon, so they have their window open in order to let the cool breeze make its way in.
They flip through the pages of their book, reading every sentence and envisioning a whole scene happening in their head just to amplify the experience, when they feel a slight tug on their pointer finger.
Confused, Rutile looks down, and sees a curious red string wrapped onto their finger.
“What the?”
They reach to feel the string with their other hand. It feels exactly like what you'd expect a string to feel like. It's real alright.
Their eyes follow where the string leads to, and it's a pretty long one. There's a trail of red leading out their bedroom door, and just out of curiosity, they reach to touch the string again, but their hand passes through it this time. It's still wrapped on their finger, and Rutile tries to cut it off using a scissor or knife, but it doesn't work.
Their father sees them cutting the air, concerningly close to their finger. “Honey, careful with that knife. You'll cut yourself.” He warns, eyes glued onto his newspaper. Rutile only hums.
No one else can see the string, that much is proven to be true. The only person who can see it is the one who has the string. And the other person who shares this connection.
They brush it off at first, but constantly being able to see this glaring color of red in their field of vision which no one else seems to see gets infuriating over time.
It's been a week, and Rutile completely ditches the book they're reading and decides on the next course of action: follow where it leads to. Why not? They have nothing better to do.
They consider the fact that their soulmate might be all the way on the other side of the globe, but entertains the possibility thay they aren't. Surprisingly, it turns out the latter is true.
Rutile hasn't even stepped outside their house area when they see the red trail leading towards the house just down the street. It's closer than they expected, and they couldn't wait to see who it is on the other side of it.
As they near the house, they remember hearing their parents talk about somebody new moving into the neighborhood. And come to think of it, this house has been empty for quite a while. Rutile's eyes never leave the trail. It leads inside through a crack in the door.
It's unlocked?
'Tis trespassing.
Meh. Whatever.
They push open the door, and it creaks open loudly. The red trail leads upstairs, and Rutile follows it carefully. While they head to the upper floor, they feel a few tugs on their finger, the one with the string wrapped on it.
That's never happened before, during the course of that one week ever since the string first appeared.
It feels even weirder to think about when they realize the string conveniently gets shorter as they near the other person, and doesn't bundle up into a pile of strings.
The house they're trespassing into is eerily empty. They're guessing the only person home right now is the one sharing the string, and when they reach upstairs, they see it lead into a bedroom with yet another crack in the door.
It registers in their brain that they haven't really thought of anything to say to their apparently soulmate when they meet them.
“Oh hi, apparently we're soulmates. ...Sorry for trespassing?”
“Hello. Funny we share this red string nobody else seems to see.”
“Go on a date with me.”
They scratch all the possible dialogue scenarios in their head, and is about to push the bedroom door open, when--
--the string feels loose, and they hear the snipping sound of... scissors?
They look down in horror at the sight of the string on their finger slowly unwrapping itself, before it falls onto the floor, light like a feather.
They accidentally push the door open in surprise, and what awaits them inside is horrifying as well.
There, inside the bedroom is a body hanging from a rope attached to the ceiling fan, with their eyes dull and dead, and their body lifeless. On their finger is a red string, cut abruptly somewhere in the middle.
And next to them is the ghostly apparition of a young teenager.