Colourlogy: Red Redemption

The iron bars felt as cold and unyielding as Red’s own fury. He gripped them, knuckles white, the raw power thrumming beneath his skin begging for release. His cell was a stark, grey box, a cruel joke for a colour built of fire and passion. “This isn’t right,” he muttered, his voice a low growl that vibrated through the stale air. “I shouldn’t be here.”