Red Snow

The world was white, veiled by a blanket of snow, more white crystals tumbling from above. Half cleared sidewalks lay relatively empty, an infrequent car passing unhurriedly by. Strolling casually past the storefronts that lined the street, a young man hummed to himself, gazing at merchandise sitting in brightly colored displays. Snowflakes collected within spikes of black hair as he continued on, his shoulders shrugging away a frosty chill that swept over his trim frame. Gloved hands pulled from the warmth of coat pockets to adjust the zipper, one hand lingering to brush snow from his head. “I don’t recall Cerulean winters being so cold,” the man’s boyish voice groaned, another shiver running over his skin.

Continuing on, the sounds of the approaching holiday filled his ears. The young man scanned the decorated windows, this time searching for something in particular. Elegant red lettering trimmed with silver caught his eyes, a grin flashing over his lips. A few steps later he reached the entrance to the store bearing the name painted on the window. Gripping the gold colored handle, he pulled open the door, a rush of warm air inviting him in. Warm lights bathed the interior of the building with a homely aura, a fireplace in the far wall popped and crackled. A young woman stood expectantly behind a counter with a bright smile, her light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. The young man offered his own smile, nodding his greeting before stepping to the counter. Friendly emerald eyes peered from behind black-rimmed glasses, her fingers hanging lightly above a nearby cash register. “Hi,” the man greeted, his eyes fixed on white letters scribbled on a chalkboard against the back wall, “I’ll just have a large coffee.”

“That all?” the waitress asked politely, glancing up for a moment to catch the man’s nod, “That’ll be two dollars, sir.”

Bending to the side, hand fishing in a side pocket for a wallet, he offered a slightly apologetic smile. Pulling the leather wallet from its cloth pouch, he withdrew two slightly wrinkled bills, handing them over to the woman. Accepting the payment, the waitress passed her customer his beverage. Nodding his thanks, he took the steaming mug, replacing his wallet in its pocket, and ambled towards an open table next to the window. Several lounge chairs encircled the fireplace, but he passed them up, choosing instead a simple table flanked by a pair of chairs. Absently, he set his coffee down, pulling out a chair and roughly plopping down on the thin cushion. The wintry scene outside captivated his attention; streets still relatively empty as the snow continued to fall. Minutes lazily ticked by, the curls of steam from the coffee dwindling to an occasional wisp. The young man blinked in realization of the lost time, hands cradling the lukewarm mug, lifting it to his lips. Sipping a bit off the top he found it had retained quite a bit of its warmth, and bitterness. “How did I ever get started drinking this crap?” he pondered with some amusement, setting the coffee back on the table.

Reaching for a small dish located in the center of the table, he plucked up several packets of sugar and cream, dropping them in a scattered pile. As he tore into the first sugar packet a familiar voice spoke with a playful tone, “That much sugar can’t be good for you Ash.”

The young man dumped the contents into his mug before glancing up at the new arrival, flashing a wide grin. The soft groan of a chair sliding across wood floors spoke as Ash stood, delivering a bear hug to a young woman slightly shorter than himself. “Nice to see you too,” the woman spoke softly as the embrace broke, a light blush tinting her cheeks, a slender finger hooking long strands of red hair behind an ear.

“It’s been a long time Mist.”

Misty nodded slowly, a weak half smile in place, “Too long…”


The quaint coffee shop, once nearly empty, now buzzed with life, its tables packed with a variety of patrons. Laughter abounded, chatter filling the entire building. Still seated by the window, Ash and Misty gazed at the crowd, Ash downing the last of his second cup. Their conversation had died out as the crowd had peaked, but neither wanted to part company. Setting his empty mug gently on the table, Ash turned his attention back to his long-time friend. “Getting a little noisy,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the drone of the crowd.

With a short giggle, Misty nodded, “Want to head somewhere else?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” the raven-haired man smiled, scooting his chair away from the table.

Lifting his coat from the back of the chair as he rose, he slid it on, glancing out into the dark winter night. Breaking away from the snowy scene he found Misty ready and waiting by his side. Sharing a nod, they worked their way through the tables, reaching the exit with little incident. With Ash opening the door, Misty stepped out of the homely shop, the night air nipping at her skin. Catching sight of the redhead’s shivering, Ash moved closer, draping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. The gesture caught Misty by surprise, having never seen this from her friend before. “You looked cold,” Ash whispered.

“Yeah, thanks,” Misty sighed contentedly, her head beginning to lull towards the man’s shoulder.

“So we never decided where we were going,” Ash mentioned, “but wherever we go I have to make a quick stop.”

‘Ash Ketchum: mood killer,’ Misty thought with a stifled giggle, “How about the gym?”

“All right,” Ash agreed with his boyish enthusiasm, “So where are you parked?”

“Actually I took a cab,” she admitted shyly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “I was hoping you could give me a ride.”

The question mixed with the expression earned a wide smile from Ash, “Sure. I’d be delighted. I’m parked just around the corner, but I need to stop into a shop just past the alley.”

“Ok,” Misty acknowledged, starting in the direction of Ash’s car.

Feeling pulled along, Ash quickly matched Misty’s pace, his arm still around her shoulders. Seasonal music played softly from hidden sources, storefront displays shining more brilliantly than before. Very few people wandered the snowy city streets while only a handful of cars rolled by. Passing store after store they reached the alley, a new, more obtrusive noise arising. “Oh! That’s me,” Misty exclaimed, seemingly startled as she dug through her coat pockets, withdrawing her ringing cell phone.

Flipping it open, she greeted the caller, mouthing for Ash to take care of his business. Nodding his understanding, Ash turned to the shop’s entrance. A small bell chimed as the door opened, a rush of warm air greeting the new customer. Glass cases lined the walls of the diminutive store, a man dressed in a pressed suit standing behind a set of cases along the back wall. Wasting no time, Ash strode up to the man, who greeted him with an expectant gaze and a, “Hello.”

“Hey. I’m here to pick up something I ordered,” Ash mentioned, glancing down at the objects displayed behind sturdy glass.

“Oh, and what is your name?” the man asked with a deep voice.

“Ketchum, Ash Ketchum,” Ash answered, smirking at his answer.

Silently consulting a computer screen, the man typed in the name, receiving confirmation of Ash’s purchase. “Just a moment,” the man spoke, disappearing through a door in the wall behind him.

Within a matter of moments he reappeared, holding a small rectangular box. After receiving the box, Ash thanked the man and turned for the door. As he walked across the room he prayed Misty would be waiting patiently, he had something he wanted her to see.


“No, no,” Misty giggled into her phone, leaning against the brick exterior of the building Ash had entered.

A blush tinted her cheeks as she listened to the caller, her mouth opened in astonishment. “How could you say that?” she demanded playfully, turning to look at the store’s entrance, “there is nothing-”

Her words were suddenly muffled by a thick hand, a strong arm wrapping tightly around her waist. The arm jerked her backwards, the cell phone falling from her light grip. She tried screaming only to find the hand clamped even tighter over her mouth. Her arms and legs flailed in all directions, anything to free her. Warm breath caressed her neck, a low growling voice speaking into her ear, “I like em feisty.”

Dread. A feeling beyond anything she had felt before welled over her. Muscles slacked, then tightened, her body ready to lash out again. Whoever held her began backing away from the street slowly, away from the light, away from safety. Kicking backwards, Misty felt her foot strike something, a pained grunt whispered in her ear. Again. This time her legs missed, swinging wildly through the air. “Stupid bitch,” she heard the man grunt, then he spoke more forcefully, “do that again and I may just kill you right here.”

Desperation. The threat was all her mind could think about. Die now, or die later. The backward march stopped, the hand clamped over her mouth loosening. “Scream and die,” the voice growled, the sound of a trunk popping reaching Misty’s ears.

She wanted to, to let her lungs roar until they couldn’t, until her vocal cords burned. She wanted to, but couldn’t. With little more than a grunt, the man tossed her into the trunk, slamming it shut with both hands.


The bell rang again as Ash exited the building, hands in his pockets to conceal his purchase. Empty streets greeted him, confusion showing on his features, “Where’d she go?”

Within the holiday music a fuzzy voice called, drawing Ash’s attention. As Ash moved to the entrance of the alley the outline of a car dashed out the other side of the path, tires squealing as they churned up snow. Perplexed, Ash stood still until the quiet voice called again, his gaze dropping towards the ground. Laying in the snow was Misty’s cell phone, whoever had called her still on the line. Wide eyes shoot back to the end of the alley, then back down to the cell phone. Without thought, he snatched up the cell phone and clapped it shut, dropping it in his pocket with the box as he darted towards his car. ‘This can’t be real. It can’t be happening,’ he told himself, trying to remember the car that sped away and the way it went.

Rounding the street corner, Ash cursed himself again for not getting the remote start for his car, settling instead to just unlock the doors. Jumping out into the vacant street, he slid to the driver’s side door, ripping it open. Diving in and ramming the key into the ignition, he started the car, hurriedly dropping it into gear. With engine roaring, the car tore from its parking space, skidding wildly as Ash pushed it into a sharp U-turn. The car straightened out just in time to be thrown around a turn, narrowly avoiding an oncoming truck. Straight road sprawled out in front of Ash, only a handful of vehicles crawling along the street. Wrenching his car into the wrong lane, Ash rammed down the accelerator, feeling the car wobble a bit in its search for traction. ‘THERE!’ Ash felt himself nearly jump out of his seat as he spotted the same car a ways down the road.

At his reckless pace, Ash passed one of the vehicles in a blur, gaining quickly on the target. The world outside melted into lines of color, the speedometer working its way upward. Ahead, the target took a lazy right down a side street. Passing another vehicle, Ash swung back into the correct lane, mashing down the brake as he neared the narrow road. The road seemed to lead into a small subdivision with identical houses constructed on both sides of the street. Apparently oblivious to being followed, the target car turned into a driveway, Ash locking his attention on the house, “Gotcha.”

The garage door was nearly shut as Ash pulled up in front of the house, killing the engine as he leapt from his seat. Near silence greeted Ash as he raced over the front yard, his mind a stark contrast. ‘Hold on Mist. I’m comin’.’

Bounding over the front steps, shoulder lowered, Ash plowed into the door. Wood splintered, the door bursting inwards. Searing pain engulfed his shoulder, but it failed to slow him down. Angry eyes darted around the interior of the house in search of the target. A piercing shriek echoed through the house, setting Ash in the direction of Misty. His footsteps thundered as he ran towards the noise, hoping for the best, but preparing himself for the worst. What greeted him was the sight of one of his best friends bound and gagged on a bed, clothes slightly tattered. At the foot of the bed stood a large man, seemingly enjoying his handiwork. The sight pushed Ash’s rage to a new level, a feral roar ripping from his throat as he charged blindly forward. “What the?!” the man shouted in surprise, his hands shooting up to his face for protection.

The charging Ash lowered his shoulder again, planting it into the man’s midsection. With adrenaline-aided power, the raven-hair man lifted the larger male off his feet, driving him towards the outer wall. Instead of slamming against the plaster surface, both crashed through a rather large window, tumbling out into the snow. Shards of glass drew blood from both men, spilling it upon the ground, tainting the snow a bright red. Perched atop the man, Ash cocked a fist, slamming it into the man’s face. Blood burst from the man’s shattered nose, showering Ash with crimson. The spray didn’t faze him, his other fist already delivering a second blow to the side of the dazed man’s head. Fist after fist plowed into the man’s face, his body falling limp. Leaning back, fists intertwining, he thrust downward, striking the man in the chest. “Go to hell,” Ash snarled between shallow breaths, a forearm wiping away blood from his face.

Stumbling backwards, he came to lean against the house, head leaned back, eyes closed. A muffled shout drew his attention, his eyes popping open when he realized who it was. Using up the last of his energy he climbed back in the window, meeting the relieved gaze of Misty. Staggering over to the bed, he plopped down on the mattress, reaching over with shaking hands to undo Misty’s bindings. Once her hands were free she pulled the tape from her mouth, then dove into Ash’s chest. “It’s ok… It’s ok,” he breathed, stroking Misty’s back as she held him tightly.

Her soft crying both saddened and comforted him, she was safe, and apparently unharmed. Suddenly a thought occurred to him, his free hand reaching into one of his coat pockets. “Here Misty. It’s for you,” Ash smiled weakly, handing over the small box he had picked up earlier.

Slowly, she loosened her hold on Ash, gently accepting the box. Gingerly, she opened the lid, a smile half smile coming to her lips as she gazed upon the contents. A simple gold heart with a small diamond set in the middle sat in the box, a thin gold chain running through the hearts loop. Reaching in she popped open the locket, finding it empty. “No picture?” she asked, looking up at Ash.

Shaking his head, Ash offered his reasons, “One thing is I didn’t have time,” he grin halfheartedly, “But the other thing is… I don’t decide who you hold most dear in your heart. That sounded corny, didn’t it?”

Misty flashed a wide smile, “A little. But you should know Ash. You’re always near and dear to me.”

“I do,” Ash nodded, wrapping his arms around Misty, pulling her close, “I do.”

End