It is cold, and I am alone (Or, Shadow Dance)

Possibly influenced by this song , but maybe not.

The world was silent and cold as she sat on the snow covered bench in the park. Her breath curled up from her mouth in ethereal tendrils as she watched, and her fingers, red and numb, clutched a music box.

Kestral, that was her name. It was a name for a bird, and so that's what she had become. Flighty and restless. It was two in the morning, and she couldn't sleep. The night wind had beckoned her outside and here she sat. She wound the music box until it clicked in protest, then she let it go. A tune that wasn't 'happy' per se, but was certainly not morose either started to leak out into the night. Unfettered by other sounds, and padded by the snow the noise built and solidified itself.

In her mind's eye, Kestral began to see smokey figures, made of light and shadow, dancing just above the snow. Making no trace of their appearance. Simply there. One beckoned her to join them, and so she did, standing slowly, dazed. Her clothes changed to that of spider silk and moonlight, a beautiful ballgown that fit her frame perfectly and made her look like royalty. The faceless figure smiled at her, or, she assumed it was smiling at her and they danced, Slowly at first, but then they picked up speed and the music box's tune started playing quickly, as if it no longer relied on the windup motor to drive it but something else entirely was behind the tune. As she danced, a strange sort of vague fear overtook her. She could  sense that something was wrong, but the music, and the dancing, and snow, and the pale, fat, moon. It was too beautiful to be menacing. So she danced with her iridescent companions and put the though away to the back of her mind.

Suddenly, she became aware that the ground beneath her feet was slicker than it should be, and there was a faint crackling sound.  She tried to slow, but her partner whipped her back into a frenzied dance, his figure becoming less humanoid, as it had been before, and more of a demonic thing. They all had.

She screamed out as the ground beneath her gave way and she plunged into the deep, freezing lake beneath her feet. She tried to surface, but it was as if the hole she had just come through had never existed. She pounded on the bottom of the ice, as the cold tried to squeeze the air out of her lungs and she ached for air. Slowly the inky green world faded to black around her.  The last thing she heard was the quiet, dying refrains of the music box, and a faint sound that was almost like a laugh.

Author's Note

Buh, I'm not even sure if this makes sense or not. It probably doesn't. Be sure to tell me.

Reviews

[...]

. it's a powerful metaphor ... when that laughter and that scorn swallows life whole ... i have no doubt in my mind ... that ... that's how it feels ...

[Ashley.M.E]

o.o Blue xD
This is a really good story, well written too. It could have been longer, with more detail, but they aren't really needed. I like background stories on why such a thing might have happened, if it was planned and if so why... you know?
Other than that it's really good