This week’s Tale Weaver is to write a dark story – something from your twisted mind; a piece of gritty film noir; a story with a tragic ending; what scares you when you try to sleep at night; what scares you when you read/listen to the news.
Time was running out.
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, no-one to give her sanctuary.
The moon was her enemy, too bright as it danced amongst the night clouds, searching her out, illuminating her body.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. But even beauty has its dark side.
Her lover waited.
The promise of what was to come had been misunderstood.
She had to find him, make love to him one final time.
Try to explain how it was, why it was, what she was.
She would never be free, and They could never be.
The two lay side by side, sated by passion, he sleeping, she awake looking at the sky.
‘I love you,’ she whispered.
The moon came out in its full gleaming splendour.
She drank in its beams, transforming as he stirred.
‘I’m so sorry…’
As she drank his life’s blood, his last thought was how beautiful she was.