Our story begins anew three years after the tragedy in the bedroom of the girl. But, unlike the other, this one is very different. She awakens from a dream, one which is horrible and cruel. A dream of the night she lost Charlie, her lover. This was no stranger for her; for each night after that fateful day had she had the same nightmare that haunted her.

Tiredness clang to her eyelids as if it was a plague. Her will broken with no desire to live, but she must, for him. Only his memory moved her on.

She left the comforts of her bed to begin another day, another of loneliness and misery. Her feet moved across the house until they left though the door. She passed the fountain that had once long ago been the scene of happiness. Her path took her to a pair of bushes that hid a dark secret. She crawled through them into a cave.

Within the chamber held an identical fountain to the one outside. But unlike the other a frame of her lover and a knife, the weapon that had killed him, lay on the trim of the sculpture. A lone vampire bat hanged on one of many stalagmites that decorated the ceiling, and a cherry wood dresser was had been placed against the wall. The only other objects that were hidden were a plentiful collection of rose bushes. They were not beautiful and gorgeous like the ones that had possessed white flowers, but were cruel and evil. On their thorny branches contained black roses.

They were grown for one purpose, and one purpose only, revenge. She had conducted a plan that was brilliant and daring. She was to suffer nine long years, the same amount of time she had made her love suffer, being with the one that had robbed her from her happiness. With each passing year she would give him a rose. It was not a token of love but her pure hatred. For each rose would become more cruel and black then the last. Once that last year was up, on the anniversary of her lost she would stab him with the blade that had destroyed her life.

She looked into the photo that she possessed and stared into the eyes of her love. She repeated over and over in her head that she was doing it for him, that he wanted her to do it, not wanting to think to hard in fear that she was wrong.

She did not want to leave him again, but she had to. She averted her eyes away and stripped her night gown from her flesh and replaced it with black leather. She began to twist her body in several ways as she practiced her martial art. It was only in case the final step of her plan was to fail.

She pushed herself hard as grief fueled her, for she had to. For meditation is the strength of those who practice this art, but with her mind in chaos she could not achieve this calmness. She pulled her body through one exercise to the next. Most would have fainted from exhaustion, but she had strengthened her limits, for she had no choice.

After her body was well covered in the moisture of sweat she abandoned her clothes had bathed in the cool pool of water in the cave. The same she used to water her black poisons. When all the perspiration was wiped away she once again dressed, clothes that were to be used that day.

She walked over to one of the bushes and plucked a rose from it. She took the beast and pierced her hands with its thorns. Again and again she struck until her hands were painted red. She believed that if she wanted to be righteous her own blood must be spilt as well. She took her hands and washed them in the pool. The blood flowed into the water from the future scares that were to come, a few among many. None noticed this deformity, and those who did were to afraid to ask.

Once she was done, she left the cave.

She and the killer had met together to enjoy a movie. He had wrapped his hand around her shoulder. She had shuttered in thought but no flinch in body. The film was nearing its end and he was drawing closer. Oh how she wanted to get away and kill him know, to see his blood spilt, but she couldn’t. She must suffer this torture for her punishment.

She looked into his eyes before closing hers. Hatred flourished but she did not show it. She chuckled inside how easily she could fool him.

Her lips felt something that she did not want to, but if her act was to continue she must. She gave in to the kiss that was before her. Her body screaming of the pain it brought, but she had to suffer this great evil. When they had separated the film ended. He took her hand into his and escorted her out of the theater. They entered his truck before she told him she had a surprise. He waited eagerly as she pulled out the black rose and gave it to him. He looked at it with a disturbed look, for he noticed that each one looked different. He looked back at her. She smiled which made him take it. He jerked in pain as he had accidentally pricked his finger. She watched as the blood trickled.

Two years inched by. We find the two in a park on a warm spring day. They had enjoyed what you might say a romantic lunch before coming here. The boy had been nervous all day, not speaking as he did normally. This made her nervous as well. For had he discovered her secret? Had he found out that she knew what he did? But how? Had she not hid it well, to the best of her abilities? How then could he know?

“Jamie,” said his voice.

She helled his breath from fear what he was going to say.

“Jamie I have something to ask you?”

“Yes?” she questioned.

He got on one knee and placed his hand on one of hers. His other reached into his pocket and brought out a golden ring. She sighed in relief that he did not know but pain coursed through her veins in what was now before her.

“Will you marry me?”

“Fool!” a voice echoed in her head. For he wanted to marry the one that was destined to kill him. But how she wanted to say no to his purposel. But if she did not her catch would be gone.

“I do,” she said with a smile.

He was filled with joy as he placed the token onto her finger. She looked down at the ring and wished that it was his.

And so they were wed. She had been given ownership of her home, for her parents had died shortly after. During the last years of her torturer did they live together. Her pain and her obsession to kill him had grown but her will was far stronger then her body. For it was her frail, weak structure that had caused what made these events have to happen.

Finally, after all the years of plotting and pain the day came. Joy filled her as her eyes opened that morning. How pleasant would it be to give herself her own birthday gift for a change.

She left the bed and entered the cave as she done every morning. She took the knife that had not been disturbed for years and stuffed it into her clothes. She walked over to a bush, the last bush, and plucked a rose from the branches. Just as the last white had been the purest, the black was the most corrupted. It was twisted and deformed; the black darker then even a pure night sky; the thorns big and sharp; and lastly, a red trim instead of blue.

She took the rose and stabbed herself like the others. The smell of blood awakened the bats that had multiplied during the years, but they did not strike. She howled in pain for the thorn cut deeper then any before it. She endured the pain, on of the last.

The sky had grown dark. She had not yet acted for she must wait a bit longer. They were snuggled together on the couch enjoying the view of the love story Titanic. Her eyes would study the clock when he was not looking. Soon, the time came.

She got up from her place on the sofa, he stood as well. She walked to where she had stored his gift and gave him the last rose. He looked at it with confusion, but did not stop when he took it. He flinched and dropped the plant as the thorns dug into his skin.

She pretended to be concern as she touched his hand. She smiled as this distraction had allowed her to poses the knife in her other. She looked into the eyes of her husband as she jabbed the knife into his heart for it was that which he had taken from her. His eyes were once bright but they soon faded. He collapsed to the floor, his face in question ‘why’. She twisted the weapon out of his body.

It was over; the thing that had caused her grief was gone. She had expected to feel relief, the pain to be gone but it wasn’t. In fact, it had multiplied. Anew feeling possessed her as she looked down at her blood covered hands, and the corpse that lay before her.

Tears came before she felt that she had to escape. She rushed to her sanctuary. The whole time tripping and falling, for she felt as if she was no longer in control.

She peered into the photo of her love. She wanted to see joy in his eyes, to feel comfort, but all she saw was disappointment. A disappointment that strengthened her guilt. It had become to much for her. The one that she had tortured herself for so long, the one she loved was now against her.

She wept as she took the knife and stabbed it into her chest. The numerous starved bats swarmed around her and fed on the blood. She screamed as she fell into the fountain, her blood forever dying the water.