Skull, The Silk Maiden

A cool fog falls on the rocky road of a small England town. The night sky growing even darker, reveals twinkling stars and a most magnificent full moon. Street lamps lit the way, a collection of small, flickering flames, gives just enough light to see the rough outline of the road and sidewalk, but not much else. A woman walks along the sidewalk, her reasons for being out so late are unknown to those who might see her, but she continues on. Ever so calmly, she puts foot in front of the other and hums quietly to herself. She carries a wicker basket in her arm and her brilliant dark blue dress blends in with the mist. She keeps pressing forward till she gets to the center of the town where she stops, unsure of what way to go from here.

“Hmm… I can’t remember the exact directions to the park. Blast, what did he tell me?” she asks herself quietly.

She puts her free hand up to her chin and looks around. She stands for several minutes, worry growing with every passing second. She was going to be late to her date. She thought it strange to have a date at midnight, but then again he was a very strange man as she can remember. She clears her throat and looks up at the moon and says to herself with a soft voice, “I have time to search around a little more.” After that, she walks straight forward into the ever growing darkness and thickness of the fog.
As she walks along the sidewalk her humming had grown much quieter. She walked more slowly. She looked around frequently, the trees along the side of the path were growing much more thick. She’d now stopped humming completely and she sped up her walking. Before she knew it, she was standing on a dirt pathway. It was surrounded by thick trees with no light but that of the moon above her. She turned her head towards the small town, and the petite, dim glow of the street lamps was all that could be seen over the trees. “Oh my… Where the devil am I?”

The snap of a branch echoes through the air behind the woman and she turned fast, her flowing brown hair whipping around by the speed of her turn,

“Who’s there?” she calls out loud, with a quick sharp voice.

Her breathing became heavy, but she calms herself and listens quietly for several minutes. She hears no sound at all but that of small crickets. She turns back around and continues to walk down the dirt path, stepping lightly and breathing quietly. Listening intently to her surroundings, the dead silence seemed more frightening that the previous snap of the branch. It begins to engulf the woman.

Her footsteps became more rapid, her breathing much more heavy. Her heart pounding fast against her chest, pure fear running through her veins. Tears began to fill her eyes, her fast walk now turned into a full sprint in order to escape the silence. Everything in her eyes looked the same. The path in front of her seemed to stretch on forever. She turned her head to see if she was being followed, but all she saw was open space. It struck great fear in her more than if she were actually being followed.

As she turned her head back around once again, she bumped into a tall figure who was completely hidden by shadow. She gave a quick gasp that turned into a sigh of relief.

“Oh, it’s you… I was so scared,” she says putting her hands on the man’s chest, “It was so dark, cold and quiet, then I thought I was being followed… and…” She could hardly speak from being so frightened. Then he placed a finger over her mouth to keep her quiet.

He then spoke in a deep, smooth voice, “Now now, no one is chasing you. The night can strike fear into even the greatest of men and women. But, you’re with me now…”

There was then a quick flash of silver in front of the woman’s eyes. She stood still, looking up at the man with shock and confusion etched into her face. She opened her mouth to speak but before a word could slip off her tongue, she felt a great pain in her gut. She looked down to see a silver dagger, penetrating her flesh with her blood dripping off the blade. She followed the handle of the dagger to see it was being held by the man. She quickly looked up at the man again as the moonlight reflected off his deep blue eyes. He stared down at her.

Her wicker basket fell, spilling its contents onto the dirt path; a loaf of bread, two ruby red apples, and a bottle of wine. Then all went black for the woman. She fell at the man’s feet and there she lay dead in a pool of her own blood. The man had slit her throat after stabbing her in the stomach. He simply stood over her. A bloody dagger in hand, his deep blue eyes looking down at her corpse.

The next morning, after the fog rose back to the heaven’s, in the place where the woman had been killed, there was no sign of a murder. No blood stained the dirt and there were no signs of a struggle. All that lay there was a very neatly folded dark blue dress that sat next to a wicker basket with a loaf of bread, two ruby red apples, and a bottle of wine in it. And resting lightly upon the folded dress, a skull…

Reviews

[Arsenic Nemesis]

Wow, this is amazingly chilling, mortal, I love it! Wonderfully written and generally eerie; absolutely fantastic, and that ending just... ohhh, shivers~ Beautifully done, very good work~