Nefaria--a prose anthology

Untold

A soft, sweet breeze floats across the air, bringing with it a soft chill that only fall can provide. The grass waves with the wind, brushing against my calves like a lover's fingers. The sun shines high above, masked just enough by candy-like clouds to be pleasant.

It's lovely, and also, horribly, horribly lonely.

Today is a day that birds should be singing, but there are none.

A breath stirs against my neck, and I jump, whipping around.

A woman stands a foot away, a smile gracing her soft features. Her skin is tanned and golden, like a honeyjar backed by dawn's sunlight, and flawless, except for a single scar, tracing from the edge of her eye to her chin like a teartrack. Her hair is long and dark, looped over her shoulder in thick ringlets. Her eyes are starling feathers, black and glossy.

I meet her eyes, and I find I'm unable to look away. Her tilts her head, her hair shifting as she moves like a curtain of curled silks.

"Follow me."

Her voice is made of all things good. Chocolate and puppies and flowers and sernades and love and hope and life. There's no morality in her instruction, no gray or unsureity. Only black and white, good and evil. And her request is good.

She turns, her motions more fluid than water. I follow her, no question of doubt in my mind. My movements feel jerky and awkward compared to hers, and no matter how eloquently I try to walk, I am unmatched against her benevolent grace.

I follow her for a long while; I lose track of time watching her walk, occasionally murmuring soft encouragement.

The ground turns under my feet, now rocky and harsh. She seems unaffected, turning easily on the rocks even in bare feet. She slides her hands down my arms, rivulets of beautiful fire flooding through my veins from every place her fingertips brush. She takes my hands, the blush rising from my neck almost oppressive.

She turns us around, until I'm standing where she was. Her eyes bore into mine, and I have the vaguest expression that she's looking into my soul.

Her smile falls off her face, and I wish that it could come back. Her eyes turn a blinding, fluorescent white, sending chills down my spine. I try to jump away, but her hands have turned into iron shackles.

I watch, a scream trapped in the confines of my closed throat, as blood leaks out of only one eye, following the track of her scar. She smiles, the action now malevolent and horrible.

"Let go," she says, in a voice softer than a whisper.

She takes a step to me, and I step back in retaliation, a horrifying moment presenting itself as my foot hits open air. She pushes me back until my feet are on the edge, and I pray to the skies that the earth won't crumble. She's the only thing keeping me from falling.

"Let go," she repeats.

And she does.

I tip back, losing my footing on the sea of pebbles. The air grabs me in it's cool, comforting grasp. My heart flies to my throat as my body flies to the ground. My hair streams to the sky, and I can see her watching me small, a smile gracing her soft features and her eyes flashing a gentle, harsh white.

I thank whatever stars above me that I black out before I hit the ground.