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Hue

Hue

A young woman walks through a thickened wood, determined to bring her sickly grandmother food. She had been warned to stay on the path by her mother, and carefully plotted her every footstep to that end.

As she made her way through the woods, a glimmer caught her eye. Something red and sparkly lay glowing within the grass. It was beautiful and a hue of green unlike anything she had ever seen. The woman loved green, after all, it was her favourite colour.

Ignoring her mother’s advice, she strayed from the path to inspect this mysterious glow.

“What a wonderful hue you have,” she said, approaching carefully.

All the better to greet you with,” a deep booming voice said from somewhere within the darkness before her.

She gulped, stopping immediately. Her heart began racing – pounding against her chest.

Yet that green hue called to her. She carefully bended down on one knee, placing her hand in the grass to pick up the green crystal.

“Does this belong to you, Mister?” She offers into the thickened, darkened wood that seemingly surrounds her. The path now lost to her curiosity.

There’s no reply.

“Goodness, what a big crystal you are,” she says quietly.

“All the better to lure you in with, my dear,” a booming voice once again rattles from her surroundings.

Her eyes widen. Her heart skips a beat.

Suddenly, ghostly ghoulish figures appear from within the trees. Their arms outstretched, gangly and coloured. They amble towards her with intent. Their hues are as intriguing as the green in the palm of her hand. Reds, yellows, whites and blacks – they give chase as she runs forward into the darkened forest.

As she runs, the colour drains from her surroundings. The blackness becomes grey. The once green leaves turn darkened, only the green glowing hue in her hand any source of colour.

By luck or by fortune, she stumbles back onto the path outside her grandmother’s house. Gasping for air, she rushes into the home and slams the door behind her.

Everything is grey.

Nothing has colour.

The young woman calls out for her Grandmother.

“Nana!” She yells desperately. “Nana, are you home?”

There’s no reply.

Suddenly, all the chasing colours appear at the windows, tap tap tapping at them with groans.

They grasp and claw at the glass.

Until it breaks.

And they drag themselves through. The door breaks down, having been kicked and thrusted from its hinges. The colours give chase, closing in on the poor woman. A large figure soon looms in the doorway, smirking with a sinister grin.

It’s The Cryptkeeper.

The ghouls devour the woman, ripping her to pieces upon the ground before him. Grey matter splatters across the floor, ceilings and walls as they gnaw and rip at her skin. She screams, begs and pleads, until blood fills her lungs and throat.

As she gargles her last breath, The Cryptkeeper retrieves the crystal from her blood soaked hand.

“You should’ve stayed on your path, my dear,” he grumbles. “For these crystals lead only to Death.”

The End.

The Cryptkeeper