The Rise and Fall of the Red Whore

Chapter 2

Past, 1800s

Her favorite color was red.

Everything she owned had at least a hint of the color. Whether it was on her outfit, in her hair, on her lips, an item she carried. It did not matter where, as long as she had it on her.

It was not always her favorite, especially as a young child, but as she aged she started to understand certain events happening to her that brought comfort from such a color.

The color red.

Then came the infatuation of a certain body fluid that was always that color.

Blood.

She craved the sight of it.

The color.

The texture.

The smell.

The source.

All of it was captivating to her young mind, driving her to want to see more of it. Especially when those who thought they were above her bullied her for her oriental half, something she could thank her dear mother for since she found it necessary to have a one night stand before marrying her father.

The moment she was born, it was apparent that her father was not her biological father.

Bringing on the abuse at home, and at school.

There was no physical escape for her, only a psychological one, which fueled the obsession that once she saw that beautiful red liquid, all her problems would go away.

Hence finding comfort from it since every time her parents or the other children saw blood dripping from her, they would cease their attack on her.

Making that current problem disappear.

Until the next beating.

For years, Cordelia had dealt with her family's wrath. From her father hating every bit of her, the side that was not from him and the side that was her traitorous mother, to her mother hating her for not being her husband's child.

They both took all their problems out on her.

And she took it, never questioning why.

She just hoped that someday they would love her, especially if she let them take their anger and frustrations out on her.

The daughter that loved them despite their flaws.

Until the day came when her father did not stop his beating when her wounds started to bleed. Cordelia had begged for him to stop, had begged her mother to intervene.

But the father never stopped, and the mother only glared at her.

That was the final straw for Cordelia's mind to snap.

She had blacked out, but it wasn't until she was found by the neighbors in a pool of her parents' blood, laughing hysterically, did her mind finally piece together enough that she could remember who and where she was.

There was no sadness when she became coherent.

There was no remorse or guilt.

The last thing she remembered was running her blood soaked hands through her black hair in hopes the color would transfer to her strands.

Somehow, when looked in the right light, the red could be seen in her shiny black locks.

Due to that unfortunate circumstance, and limited witnesses, Cordelia was sentenced to an insane asylum to recover and serve a small sentence for killing her parents.