Toil and Trouble

From Create Your Own Story

A beguiling smirk creeps up her pale, soft cheek. The glow of her crystal ball glints off of her supple lips as an eager tongue slides over them, and her razor-sharp canines bite into them lustfully. In her devilish delight, she can't help but to chuckle with the prospect of meeting a very frightened, very unwitting, and very special prey: You.

Cursing yourself under your own bated breath, you shiver as you fold your arms desperately closer around yourself in an effort to escape the biting chill of the woods. Cold leaves crunch underneath your tattered boots and icy wind whips past your clammy cheeks, and you wonder hopelessly where you went wrong. How could you have been so stupid to have lost yourself so deep into the forest, wandering without hope for an exit for days on end? It had been so long since you had felt the warmth of a fireplace, the delight of a gluttonous meal, or even the affection of another person that you figured you'd lost the motivation to find an exit days ago. Whatever small thread of hope to survive that had kept you walking through the dense, hostile fog of the woods for this long was frankly unwelcome. By now, you had accepted your fate, and was ready to embrace the long sleep. Trying to survive any longer was simply a formality at this point.

So this is it, you think to yourself. All of your choices, by some deity's dry sense of humor, had culminated into starving in the cold forest. Finally seeing no more point in going on, you collapse (probably on purpose) onto the dry dirt, facing up at the condescending trees as they extend infinitely into the fog, long strands of black in a dark blue void. You finally close your eyes and wonder about whether the afterlife has a pub.

Suddenly, the subtle clacking of high heels rudely invades the calmness of what you'd wanted to be a quiet death. But that couldn't be right; how would heels clack on dirt? Could it be some twisted dream? The afterlife? Yeah, probably the afterlife. But then you feel a presence beside your lifeless body. You feel a brooding shadow washing over you, as though something is bent over looking upon your corpse in great interest. Entertaining your curiosity, you open your eyes for a small peek.

What you see could only have been described as the most hauntingly beautiful creature you had ever seen in your life. A smiling woman's darkened, sorrowful yet wonderful face gazes upon you, her silhouette betraying a well-endowed figure. Her supple body curves in all of the right places, her black cloak hugging every soft mound and bend. Pale eyes as chilling as the cold air stare into yours, comforting yet sad. Deciding that this perfect thing must be Death herself, you close your eyes and slip into unconsciousness.

"What should I do to you?" she chuckles devilishly.

Does she:

Personal tools