The Snake In The Robin's Nest

The wind rippled through the long, dry grasses, its invisible fingers reaching across the plains to brush across her face and run through her hair. Stray leaves, like flecks of flame, twirled on the wind the color of crimson blood. She sighed, the deep smell of autumn was similar to freshly baked bread. Yet the chill of winter had a bite to it, snapping at her cheeks and telling her of the cold which was to come. Shivering, she embraced herself, letting a tear leak from the corner of her eye and trace down her cheek.

She didn’t know how long she stood, the sun setting before her, gold and lovely, serene and romantic, feeling so out of place with her heart. Its light faded to grey twilight, seeping from the sky. The warmth appeared sucked from the world, but it didn’t matter, for that is how she felt; bitter, melancholy, lightless and empty. The anger, the fury, had left her.

The moonbeams fell gently from the sky, the stars clear and crisp above her, the pale half-light wrapped all around. Silver forms seemed to move from the trees from the trees behind, cloaked in their wane white dress. Their long faces looked to her as they walked to her, sparks alight of their fingertips. With their ghostly arms they reached but she could not see, they sang but she could not hear.

They disappeared as another figured strolled across the field, his form solid and shadow tall and real. He stood at her back, silent and waiting. She tensed, feeling his presence behind her. It took her a moment to turn about to face him, his obscure face somewhat lost to her in the light. “Leave me alone,” she shuddered.

“Alyssa….,” purred the man, taking her smaller hand in his larger. His skin was unusually smooth and cool, like the touch of glass instead of human flesh.

She shook him off, much of her earlier emotion returning. “Oh, Alyssa,” his hand trace up her arm. She attempted to move him off of her once more, but this time he more firmly grasped onto her shoulder, so she was forced to stay and look into her eye.

“What do you want!” she shrieked into the quiet, her voice breaking. A soft breeze came to her, rustling her skirt about her legs before pausing, as if the whole world held its breath.

“You know what I want, Alyssa,” he traced his hand over her cheek and through her auburn hair. She trembled, another tear leaving her eye as she closed them.

In an instant, she tore herself from him, running across the fields as fast as she could, the thistles scratching at the skin of her bare feet. Weeping to the skies, she continued to run and run until she tripped, falling onto her face. She panted, sobbing at the same time.

I will be back. You know you will always be mine, came his voice, sly and slick, like a black snake slithering into her mind.

She stuffed her fingers into her ears, shaking her head as she cried furiously into the ground. No! You will never see me again! Never!

The End

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