Geoluhread Eyes

She leaned over me like Halloween, the obsidian of her hair a perfect foil for her geolurhead eyes.  They seemed to literally burn, scorching my retinas and igniting my senses; she stank of hellfire and sulphur, but all I could smell was the faint aroma of her expensive sandalwood perfume.  When she peeled back crimson lips to reveal shapely fangs of brightest alabaster, I gracefully arched my throat and let her drink.  By the time she lifted her deceptively delicate wrist to my mouth, I could already feel my own eyes changing, as if someone had struck a match behind my pupils... and the next time I looked in a mirror, I could espy no flesh, but merely the ghostly flame of my own geoluhread eyes.

Obsidian

The End

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