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As I lie awake, staring out of my window and into the Victorian night sky for the third night in a row, I feel the coarse linen scratch against my bare arms. I know that haunting Ruby Red will plague my sleep eventually. Just as I know that I will never see that shining white hair and her smooth smile, I know that the Church will continue to suppress the Florans.
London the Second, or Londona, has always been purely Christian. The Church and its iron grasp on the Imperial Trade Corporation (ITC) and, in extension, the planet Victoria of the Elizabeth II system. So when the Floran Faith grew in popularity and started to challenge the Church, the Church struck. The Church exiled the Florans to Edwinburgh of Victoria to work the Cornwell mines. Every year, Florans are discovered and exiled, just like her, or so they say.
As I lie in bed, I wonder if God had decided that I was to be the butt of the joke, as there is no other reason for this to be happening. Why else am I cursed to see that gorgeous ruby red every time I close my eyes? To think of that hauntingly white hair, and that deep rumbling voice? Cursed, I am to want that forbidden fruit.
So, when I close my eyes, I still see her, a week since she has disappeared, and still she stands just like she did a week ago in my memory…
***(One week ago)
“Say, Phoebe, will you ever try out the Tropical Pizza? You can only say no so many times,” pleaded Trattoria.
“Again, Trattoria, it’s a crime that you even put pineapple on pizza,” I pouted. “It is an unholy combination of food, and you know it.”
“One day, you’ll get it, but until then, I’m assuming you want the usual?”
I hummed in confirmation as I turned to wander the Skyebarge markets. The markets were always so beautiful at night. As I was wandering in search of trinkets, I heard footsteps behind me, and before I could turn around, something white flashed before my eyes. It stopped in front of me, and I saw that it was a young woman.
“Please help me!” the white-haired stranger begged.
“I could help you, but may I trouble you by requesting that you unhand me first?” I returned.
“O-oh, I apologize for my crude behaviour, but it really is of importance–” she paused, spotting Gendarmeries and quickly pulling me into an alley.
“I am being followed by the Gendarmerie. Can you please help me? Wait… Phoebe, is that you?” the stranger gasped.
“...Miss Zani? Goodness, is that you?! It has been such a long time since we last made acquaintance!”
“Oh, cara mia, it has been so long since St. Alex’s! I didn’t even know that you were an acolyte now.”
“Yes, I suppose it has. Now, back on the issue at hand. What do you need help with?”
“Those goddamned Gendarmerie won’t stay off my heels. Could you let me crash at your place for a bit, dear?”
“Slow down. Why are the guards chasing you?”
“Ah, the why isn’t too important, my dear.”
“You should just turn yourself in, Miss Zani. The Gendarmerie would not pursue someone without reason,” I stated, trying to pull away from her warm hands.
“NO! Please!” She begged, as she tightened her hold on my arm. “Turning myself in would be suicide, so please, I beg of you, just listen to me. Do the 10 commandments not say to treat your neighbours as you would treat yourself? Would you not also want help during an emergency from a friend?”
“I, uh, well, I suppose so. But…” After a long pause, I sighed. “Why not. I will help you, Miss Zani.”
I could see her shoulders sag as Zani let out a sigh of relief. Then, almost as if she were sharing a secret, she leaned in and whispered into my ear, “Thank you, my dear,” as her breath ghosted across my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
I stared red-faced down at the cobbled streets of Londona, before I saw movement from the corner of my eye. It was the Gendarmerie! Fuck!
“Quick, follow me, Miss Zani,” I whisper quickly before I drag her behind me.
“Of course, my dear,” She purred back.
I quickly pushed her through my door before I quickly glanced around at the bustling streets of Londona for Gendarmerie. And there they were, knocking on a door 3 houses down.
“Quick, Miss Zani, please hide in this wardrobe. The guards are coming,” I hissed, as I shoved her into the tiny space before slamming the door shut. Before I could catch my breath, the heavy lockstepping march of the Gendarmerie stopped in front of my door. The knock rang through my house with astonishing finality.
I slowly opened the door to see a dark-haired Gendarmerie. I felt the sweat bead at the back of my neck, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, and not like there was a wanted fugitive in my house. His eyes pierced through me, almost like he was reading me like an open book.
“Good afternoon, Miss Acolyte.”
“G-good afternoon, sir.” I stammered. Smooth. “How can I be of assistance?”
“We are searching for a highly dangerous criminal. Have you seen anyone with white hair recently?” the guard inquired.
“Not that I can think of, sir.”
The Gendarmerie hummed, “Well if you say it so, Miss Acolyte, there is no reason for us to doubt you.”
“Thank you sir, and God be with you.”
The guard nodded once before stepping away. As I closed the door, I leaned against it heavily, as I tried and failed to calm my beating heart. Then I realized with a jolt that Zani was still in my closet. I sprinted to the closet and swung open the door as I apologized for locking her in there. "Apologies, Miss Zani, the Gend-” and before I could finish my sentence, I tripped.
“My, Miss Acolyte, that is quite bold of you to be lying in my arms already,” she purred, as I realized in horror that I had not landed in my jackets, but instead directly into Zani.
“I AM SO SORRY, PLEASE FORGIVE ME,” I shrieked, red-faced as I fell backwards onto my behind.
“Apologies, Phoebe, you’re so cute when you’re flustered.” She laughed as she pulled me up.
“You are so mean, Miss Zani,” I sulked. “ Now will you answer my question on why the Gendarmerie are searching for you? I did just lie for you.”
“I guess that is fair. The reason why I have been running from the Gendarmerie, is because… I am a Floran.”
I rip myself away from her, “WHAT!” I hissed, “ You are one of them? But you went to school with me, no, it is not possible - ”
“Dear, does Proverbs 25:21-22 not say “If your enemy is hungry, give them food to eat; if he is thirsty, give him water to drink”? Who are you to disagree with God?”
“W-Well yes, Proverbs does say that, but I can’t help you Miss Zani,” I murmured, “ The Church had declared that Florans are dangerous…”
“Phoebe, my dear, is the Church above the Bible? Can the Church claim that the word of God is incorrect?” she implored, and as she locked eyes with me, I realized with a start that her eyes were of the most beautiful Ruby Red.
“I-I, no, they are not,” I stammered out, as I realized that I was staring.
“Hm, Miss acolyte, is there perhaps something on my face? You seem quite fixated, my dear. I pray that your gaze remains holy, my darling.” Zani smirked, leaning in closer. I felt her breath trace my lips, and my throat went dry.
“Uh-h, your eyes are beautiful,” I stuttered, and before I could say anything else, a large, warm hand shot up and lightly lifted my chin, so that I was looking into those beautiful ruby eyes.
“You could have just said so, dear,” she cooed, “Are my eyes really that mesmerizing? So enchanting that a beautiful acolyte, such as yourself, would stare so unabashedly?”
As I struggled to comprehend her words as I drowned in those beautiful ruby eyes, I heard a loud growl.
“My, Phoebe, you must really be starving,” she chuckled, as I realized that it was my stomach that had made that sound.
I immediately flushed from head to toe, as I realized with a start that I still had not picked up my pizza from Trattoria yet, and as I tried to make an excuse.
BOOM, as my door was flung off its hinges and onto the floor. “You, Floran scum, you are under arrest!” the booming voice roared, as two Gendarmerie rushed in and dragged Zani outside.
“WAIT! YOU HAVE THE WRONG PERSON!” I desperately begged, as a third Gendarmerie pulled me back. As I thrashed and turned to try to escape their grasp, I saw Zani twist away from her captors and punch the Gendarmerie holding me, standing between the Gendarmerie and I.
“Who the hell do you think you are?! To put your dirty hands on a lady, how dare you?” Zani raged. It didn’t stop the Gendarmeries, and they slammed her into the ground as they beat her again and again, as another Gendarmerie held me back.
“NO! Miss ZAN-” I tried to shout before an armoured hand covered my mouth, and I watched helplessly as they dragged her lifeless body away, into the Victorian night. The Gendarmerie released me as I collapsed onto the floor, and I stared onto the streets.
There, reflecting the street lamps, was a dark pool of ruby red, staining the cobblestones of the street. The same, enchanting, hauntingly beautiful red that had colored her eyes, now stained the streets of Victoria.
***(Memory ends)
BANG BANG BANG
“Miss Phoebe? Can you open the door,” I hear Trattoria yell, interrupting my reminiscing.
“Yes, Miss Trattoria,” I say as I open the door, “How can I hel-”
“I am so sorry about your friend, I’m sorry,” she blurts as she shoves a heavy white container into my hand, turns on her heels, and sprints off. As I stand there at my door, shocked for a second, before I peel off the lid.
It is spaghetti, covered in a rich, red, meat sauce
Ruby Red.
In my hands, I hold the color of Zani’s enchanting red eyes, the color of the blood that had stained the cobbled streets a week ago, the color that will always follow me. Ruby red, the color of my obsession, of my dreams, and of my nightmares. Ruby red.