The Amber Room

Okay so I wanted this blog to start out as a lifestyle blog and it doesn't seem to be going in that direction right this moment lol... But it's a start. I wrote a little story, some of it might not make any sense whatsoever but I like it. There's no title so I'll let your mind work its creativeness. I hope you do too. I'm Anthony or Chirpy if you want to call me and this is Off The Grid.

P.s I'll try to post daily. I'm new to this so please bare with me. Let me know what I should talk about in terms of Lifestyle, much appreciated ~(*v*)~
Here's the story

~> This is odd and unheard of in this year of 1943. So is this murder scene, an upstairs strip club to a mansion downstairs, nothing like this should exist. I shouldn’t be too oblivious to what’s going on here. Incarnadine brilliance three doors in rows. Deafening fantasia runs through the ear like a gebræc falsifying and obstructing the mind, induced to the fellatio and uprooting from sanctuary and factions which do not lie in these doors. The psychological misfortune and foul play that landed you in this monstrous installment of suicide, sex, drugs, crime, and murder. Your face and hands are plastered with the DNA of those who found themselves isolated in those rooms with no means to take to their heels.

You’re baffled how you even got here, why you have blood on you from head to toe and why the people in these three rooms are mutilated. More specifically, why are you the only one alive. Puzzling enough there are eight doors in this hall. The two on the ends and the six on the extremities. Three are closed opposed to the incarnadine lit rooms filled with bodies of two to three people.  Battered and coated in the crimson red blood that looked to be spewed from their bodies. Limbs littered the floor while the lights and music flickered and blasted on and on into a dizzying dilemma of which I should run, leave and get help or stay and try to figure out why I’m here, who these people are, and what happened.

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Who could’ve done this and why am I covered in blood, this doesn’t make sense at all. There’s a letter with an old english monogram wax seal on it.

Upon grabbing the envelope, a letter falls out folded in a horizontal fold, like everyone’s done since the 1800’s. It was somewhat blood-soaked and looked like it’s been unearth from a thousand year slumber. I pick up the letter in anticipation that it’s going to blow up, Thank God it didn’t. I unfolded it with ease and a steady hand to make sure I didn’t rip any part of it. There’s nothing on it, not a damn thing. I flip it to see what’s on the back. “ SEE YOU SOON” is what it displayed, written in blood. “The blood of these people?” I wouldn’t know. “Why the hell am I here? why aren’t I dead like them? Did I do this?” There’s no way I could’ve done anything like this. I got dizzy, spiralling downward to my knees I was short of breath, deprived of oxygen. A pair of feet met my face when I hit the ground. “Who the hell is this? Will they help me? Did they do this?”

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Incarnadine, electric blue, race yellow, and wine red flashing on and off, filling the room with adrenaline and jumping feet. Girls with spaghetti straps flying from their metallic colored tank tops and ripped boyfriend jean shorts, guys with their grey and white, long sleeve button up shirts and black leather and denim pants. Jumping to the beat of every song played as their hearts raced unknowingly.  

Clamorous fantasia, a repeated chorus brainwashing the hearts and souls of those succumbed to the numbing music being blasted. Lights out. The bellows of bum rushing people, screaming in pain, fear, and sense of death filled the entire club. Flashes filled the room as if search parties were bursting through exits. A beam ran through a window revealing the outside world to the enclosed chamber in which this bodacious event was taking place. This wasn’t just some club, it’s the upstairs of a mansion. Coming to, backing out of the lost universe I was just in, gunfire rang out causing the room to get lower and clear out. Lights out. It was utterly silent afterwards, you could hear the dust hit the floor. I then Hit the floor. Lights beaming all over me, upon opening my eyes, I see the blood ruined machete, an emptied clip from a .45 and police boots and guns drawn at me. “Did I do this?” I did...

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