Crimson

Wind blew through the cold autumn trees, causing the leaves to dance with a flare of oranges, red and brown, the dim light of the dying sun illuminated the silhouette of two figures staring at the bright red moon from the cleared hilltop. One man, one woman, each watched as a single glowing streak crossed the violet sky highlighted by the vibrant topaz light. “So why’d you bring me out here, Johnny?” the woman asked, Johnny knelt closer and placed his arm around her shoulder. “You know the rumours

“How gullible do you think I am?” It had started so simply. Twenty one year old Ludwig Beilschmidt had been sitting in the cafeteria with his friend, Arthur Kirkland, the conversation having, once more, taken an incredibly odd turn. “I’m telling you the truth! I have a book on it and everything, you can summon a demon by following the steps in it.” Arthur huffed out, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why would I lie about something so amazing?” Green eyes locked onto the other blonde, a scowl tugging

much attention as I was more focused on making my decision. I didn’t know what to do but that didn’t matter to me at all when my choice was triggered by a nasty silhouette behind me. All I could see was a pitch black body full of spikes and bright crimson eyes that belonged to something of equal power to an evil spirit. I swiftly turned away without thought and without any hesitation I sped up to the giant red door in front of me. The door number was marked “666”. I knocked slowly countless timed like

What is to blame for death? Is it people, God, or something that humans cannot control, such as fate? There are many different viewpoints on this subject, but none are a definite answer. In english literature, many authors blame character deaths or downfalls on tragic flaws. For instance, in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Romeo’s tragic flaw -his impulsiveness- contributes to multiple deaths, including his own. Shakespeare’s goal was to “Shine a light on the human condition and show how every day

The aim of this essay is to present the cultural models of realism and naturalism in Stephen’s Crane novella Maggie. A girl of the streets. Another aim of this paper is to support the idea that Stephen Crane portrays in his novella life just at it is. The main concepts of this essay are realism and naturalism. American realism is characterized through verisimilitude of detail, effort to approach the norm of experience, greater diversity in subject matter and tries to move away from romance and self-creating

Crain, Madison. "How Social Media Affects Body Image." The Crimson White. The Crimson White, 07 Mar. 2016. Web. 03 Mar. 2017. Crain begins with the obsession and craze of social media and how people uses application to alter their pictures to achieve a perfect picture to post. Afterwards continues by comparing a model's average size and weight to a regular man and women size and it is revealed the most drastic differences are within the women's categories. Finally the article returns to talking about

the moment that has just now arrived. The sun is low in the sky, setting the clouds ablaze with a haze of red and orange, with dark gathering at the edges of the sky, waiting for the sun to set and night to take hold. The lake has turned a deep crimson in the reflected light of the setting sun. While the water may be the color of blood, the lake's motion displays none of the violence of its color, gently breaking against the shore, with only a few small waves being blown up by the wind. In the

the bathroom door and jumped at a sound of water dripping from the tap. My eyes wandered to the black speck on the mirror, and something was off about it, but I didn’t know what. The speck opened into a wide gaping mall until it opened to reveal a crimson eye staring back at me, I jumped back and hit the wall behind me. The framed pictures rattled and I sucked in a breath, still watching the speck as it stared back at me. It blinked (or winked) back at me and vanished. I stood there for a long moment

Chapter One: "The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living." Marcus Tullius Cicero . . . Detective Ashford of the Grand Rapids Police Department in Michigan, sat at his desk and thumbed through unsolved murder cases, looking for any clues or connections he may have missed. Drowsiness had suddenly set upon him like fog, his constant yawning had made him aware of the late hour and chose to discontinue this endeavor till later. He looked at the clock on the wall, it

can be heard in the background and is gradually getting louder. This is accompanied with the sound of one walking falteringly on the creaky oak floor boards. The camera enters an out of focus close shot and is gradually coming to focus of the thick crimson red droplets of blood splatting as they reach the burnt umber floor. The camera slowly zooms out to a long shot at a low angle of the back of a tall lean teenager with shrivelled blonde hair wearing a ragged purple dress, clutching tightly on to a