Rosalina Ch. 01

Chapter 1: The Red Rose of the Shadows

Count Gonzalez De Lama was striding the narrow street with urgent steps. You can tell by the funny dance of his thick moustache that he was angry. It was not very wise to speak with Count De Lama when you see his moustache dancing. He entered the Tavern of the Big Rooster and caught sight of his two men sitting on a table.

"Can someone tell me what the fuck is this?" He dropped a crumpled rose on the table.

"But why my Lord, it's a red rose!" answered Sanchez the Fourth. He was one of the best among Count De Lama's men if you were kind enough to overlook his celebrated thick head. No one really knew on what basis he chose to call himself Sanchez the Fourth.

"I know it's a rose, idiot. Can someone explain to me why there was a rose on my bed?" Count De Lama snapped at them.

"Maybe it was left by one of the Count's many beautiful mistresses," Diego said, while playing with his dagger.

"Ha..ha..ha, very funny Diego," Count De Lama answered dryly. It was not a secret that Count De Lama was gay. Everyone in Madrid knew about this particular fact.

Diego picked up the rose and sniffed, dreamingly. Count De Lama pulled a seat and joined the two men. He was waiting for his ill-tempered man, Diego Rotten Heart, to speak. It was useless to ask Diego to hasten his work or speech. You need to sit down and wait patiently until he enters one of his good moods. For Count De Lama's sheerest luck, the rose helped Diego to enter such a mood today.

"Have you ever heard about the Red Rose of the Shadows?" Diego asked Count De Lama. His dreamy tone irritated the Count more than anything.

"I thought it's a folks' tale. One of those stories demented grandmothers used to tell children in a cold day" Answered Count De lama wryly.

"Think what you think about it, it's a well known story. Everyone speaks about it nowadays. What I know for sure, she always leaves a red rose after she goes as a sign of vengeance. A red rose signifies blood, you know that, Count Gonzalez?"

A shiver ran along Count De Lama's spine. Sanchez the Fourth smiled, adding, "It also signifies beauty."

Count De Lama was very irritated by now. You can tell from his mustache. But, he was a very practical man. Whenever he decides to do something, he never leaves it until it ends. He couldn't help but asks, "Tell me more about her."

Diego Rotten Heart drew a mocking smile on his face. He rapidly changed his expression to a serious one and started telling what he knows in a hissing voice like snakes:

"They say she comes with the shadows" He started. You can tell from the excitement in Sanchez's face that he knew the story.

" ..in the moonless nights. They say she has a very long, gypsy-like hair and rosy lips. Her skin is the color of olives. He eyes are blue and deep. Her bosom is as smooth as ivory ..."

"This doesn't sound bad to me," Count De Lama interrupted unwisely. Diego gave him an angry, ugly look.

He continued, "They say she carries a heavy sword of steel made by death itself. When she comes she brings pain with her. When she goes, she leaves blood and a red rose. What really disturbing about her ..."

"I love this part," Sanchez interrupted excitedly. He didn't get an angry look from Diego, the Count noted grudgingly.

"What really disturbing about her is what she does before she finally kills the vicitim."

"What does she do?" the Count asked nervously.

"She fucks her victim and makes pleasure with him before she kills him."

"Isn't she something," Sanchez cried happily.

"This is ridiculous," Count De Lama stood up suddenly. His mustache was dancing in all directions. His face turned red from anger.

"Whatever this pervert woman does to men, I don't give a damn shit. Find the one who left the red rose on my bed and bring him to me. If you fail to do so you two, I'm going to throw you to the dogs."

Count De Lama closed the tavern's door violently after him. Sanchez looked at his companion and said, "Wow... these were really tough words from a gay, to tell the truth."

Diego sniffed the red rose and answered:

"Wait till I can pay all my debts. I'm going to castrate this gay Count of yours in the middle of the street."

"He will not loose anything, if you wanted my opinion."

* * *

-2-

Memory

"Do you love me?"

"I worship you."

Rosalina was lying naked on the bed. Her curly dark hair was covering her nape and shoulders. Her beloved man, her friend from childhood, was sitting above her, naked too, his dick pushing gently between her large and comfortable butts. She loved him very much. She loved these lazy hours of the afternoon, when they lie together as newly-married couple, naked, touching each other with an endless desire.

His touch. She always loved him because of his touch. His manly hands over her skin send shivers along her loins and make her thighs damp with her secretions. He was the only one able to make her feel weak and feminine.

He picked up the red rose which was lying inside an empty cup beside them. She felt its smooth petals touching her skin, caressing her, teasing her. She moaned in pleasure and pushed against his rigid dick.

"Alfonso, sing about my beauty."

Alfonso laughed. He was used to such sudden impulses. "Why should I sing about you, love?"

"Because, it turns me on. Don't you like it when I'm horny?"

"I'm not sure if I would be able to handle your horniness."

"Com'on, Alfonso. Sing" She said her words, wriggling her warm ass against his dick. Alfonso closed his eyes in deep pleasure.

"Ok, love. I'm gonna sing."

Alfonso was the most famous poet at that time. His songs about his love, Rosalina, reached every city and village in Spain. He cupped his wife's breasts with his hands and pushed his dick inside her tight asshole. He started to sing:

The blood of the rose is the color of your lips. Rosalina.

Your thin, sleepy waist is complaining against your hips. Rosalina.

Your breasts on their throne, two kings sitting on ribs. Rosalina.

Suddenly, the door of the room was kicked widely open, and five armed men filled the room. Alfonso jumped up from the bed reaching for his sword. Rosalina pulled the bed sheets over her naked body.

"You screw your wife from behind like a horny dog. Aye... Alfonso?"

"Who the fuck are you?"

"We are hired mercenaries, my dear Alfonso. We are here to kill you."

"Back offfff."

"You don't have a chance against five armed men Alfonso, even if you had your sword and your rigid dick. Do you want me to chop it off?"

"I said back off."

Five men advanced with sure steps and grim faces. They didn't give time to Alfonso to shake his sword. Rosalina cried in a frenzy of terror, watching five swords shredding her lover's body into pieces. The bed sheets turned red with Alfonso's blood. Then, five grim men raped her one after another. Five cold killers in that lazy afternoon.

This was the memory Rosalina carried all her life. This was the afternoon which shaped the legend of the red rose of the shades.