Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ A Chance Meeting ❯ A Chance Meeting ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

A dream... Perhaps... Travelling through a dim wooded landscape, trees bared to the harsh brutality of the wind, limbs stripped of their bright frippery. The wind itself chills to the very marrow her bones, whispering through the dry, brittle branches overhead. This is too real to be a dream. The first tendrils of fog slip silently through the twisted roots covering the ground, its kin sweeps in quieter still, swirling around ankles making each step an unknown hazard. Stumbling, tripping forward in a futile effort to remain upright, a root pitches her face first into the slightly sandy earth floor. A rock scratches her cheek, a thin red line against an ashen face, paler now, and growing more frightened. As she looks around, she notices a clearing only a few feet away and carefully makes her way to it. The lightly sanded earth gradually gives way to a rockier grade in which boulders peep above the deepening fog and stretch their jagged edges to the darkened sky. The clouds above are scattered throughout the night sky, blocking the light of the moon. She stares ahead trying to see the path before her, her eyes failing that task note something of a different sort: movement.
Heart jumping, she attempts to rush forward, nearly tripping in her haste, towards what may be her rescuer and finally falls upon the rocks. As she rises once again, the clouds give way to the full moon, its light shining down amidst the rubble upon a young woman in a black dress sitting among the stones. One hand lies in her lap, her arm pale as the mist, the wind flutters through her raven hair, swirling the fog about giving her an ethereal appearance. Patiently, she sits there, eyes cast downward, almost as though waiting for her.
"She's so still, so very still." vaguely runs through the frightened girl's mind as she hurries forward and stops, rooted where she stands, when she catches a glimpse of the woman's eyes. They are the color of the darkness that surrounds the hearts of men, the light that leaves men's eyes as they die, the brilliance of agony, and full of hunger. Slowly, the woman rises from her place, smiling a secret smile, and begins to walk towards her. With each step, the woman's face slowly changes from that of a young woman to that of a haggard crone that time had been hateful towards. The old woman reaches the young and gently, bones creaking, slips her hand into young one's hair and presses their lips together in a lover's kiss, teasing her lips apart, tongue exploring the sanctuary of her mouth... And then she inhales. The young woman feels a coolness growing colder than anything she had ever felt, colder than the icy snow or frozen river, freezing her from the inside out. The crone inhales again and pain enters her body, more than breaking every bone she possessed, more than any mental attack she had ever felt. Her eyes flutter open and she see's the crone's face and body become youthful again, firm and strong in itself. She tries to break away but her body ignores her frantic commands. The crone, now youthful young woman, inhales a final time and the young frightened woman is frightened no more as her husk drops to the ground, brittle bones snapping and pushing through leathery skin. There is no blood to be spilled for it had dried up in her veins and shrivelled her heart. Within moments, the husk becomes ash and blows away in the wind. The youthful woman simply smiles a secret smile and walks away to enjoy another year of freedom.