Open Shutters

 

The mausoleum of his soul was as black as onyx.

Tears once wept, roll down clammy cheeks; warm blood dripping onto her bodice.

Her final breath slips between frozen lips. Mist drifts quietly away from her death grimace.

Her eyes become dull.

Life fading into memory.

Heart stops its panicked staccato.

The stalker lowers her to soft mattress, placing the comforter over her scantily-clad form.

His midnight bride.

Licking the blood from his canines, he kisses her pale lips; a parting farewell until the next full moon.

She’d always dreamt of a tall dark stranger, never expecting him to come.

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