Her face gleams white in the dark light. I see the hollow of her cheeks as they glow with a bluish light in the darkness of the night.
The hollows of her eyes are black, as are her lips. Do they drip with blood? No, but they are red. Blood red, and as I look closely, I realise that it is indeed blood that is on her lips. She is no ordinary woman. Is she one of the undead, I ask myself? I shiver. My skin crawls at the sight of her, and she sits there impassively, her body cloaked in the dark. Her lips are unmoving, yet seem to have a cruel smile that rests upon them.
As my eyes become accustomed to the dark light, I realise with a shock, that she has no flesh on her cheeks. It is bone that I see. White, gleaming bone. What nature of woman is this? Hair on her head, full lips dripping with blood, and bone for her cheeks.
Bone and flesh merge seamlessly with each other, and she looks across and my companions and me through her dark, unseeing eyes. We try, we strain every nerve, but cannot fathom the expression on her face, as she continues to look at across at us with seeming impassiveness.
White on black. Black on white. I cannot move. None of us can move. Our hearts are pounding in our chests. My lungs seem blocked, my hearts is bursting. I am in her spell. Those hidden eyes in the dark hollows grip us, and do not let us move. What power is there in her? What is the nature of this implacable, macabre power that we feel?
She does not move. She sits there. But wait….. what do I sense? She sits there, yet she seems to move.. How can this be happening? Is this and example of Dark Power?
Her mouth opens. Are there no teeth in her mouth? I cannot see, but I know that her mouth has teeth. All I see, is her dark tongue flicking this way and that, predatory and hungry. We cringe, fearing and sensing death. Will we all die, or will one of us die?
The black sockets fix on my neighbour, a shy young girl who had come along with us on this journey. She had been reluctant to join us, and did so unwillingly at the last moment.
I try to hold her back, but I am frozen. My strength has been taken from me. I cannot move, and we all look on in horror as the young girl is drawn slowly, with inexorable hunger, into that open mouth. She seems to fade and become translucent, and then……… And then……… And then, she is gone.
The mouth closes, and the lips look red, inviting, seductive as the fresh blood gives them life. Despite myself, I want to kiss those lips, and I realise that she has possession of my soul forever.
And then suddenly, we find ourselves lying on the grass. It is dawn, and as we struggle to sit up, we look around, and realise that we are one companion short.
Oh horror. What evil, malevolent spirit was this? Why does the memory of those lips not leave me, nor that desire to kiss them?
I know that I shall not rest until I find them, until I find her, again…. My lips curl..