Be terrified

'Be terrified'

A curvaceous figure covered in black appeared;the darkness off her aura contrasting with thebright lights and thumping beat of the music. She entered. Somehow her entrance acted as a catalyst for the millions of heated eyes following her graceful walk across the floor- the females eyes burned with jealousy, their nails clutching onto their men's muscular arms trying to avert their prolonged glances of her siren like walk. Little did they know their jealous glances, was of no benefit.

I picked myself up to climb the hard stools, feeling the womens animosity and men's desires, as I fingered the intricate design of my mask. It was placed in a way that it discreetly covered half my face with its thin material and shadowed the rest. I cringed remembering my reflection in the mirror when I didn't have my mask on. Throwing back a strong drink,I glanced across the room, as I waited for it to did its job and wash away the repulsive images.

My eyes sweep the vast room instinctly searching for my next victim. In the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of a tall body leaning on the far wall, staring at me. Drink in his hand, leather jacket tossed over his shoulder,he saunters towards me. His smouldering eyes never leave mine as he battles his way through the overcrowded dance floor.

Time slows as he reaches me. I turn my head (right after I put on my act)to see him right in front of me, little or no place between our foreheads, he asks me "dance with me?" His eyes pleading for me to answer, I nod, earning myself a full blown grin.His hand grip mine- the rough calloused palm rubbing against my smooth palm- as I allow this stranger to pull me towards the sea of sweating bodies.

Body against body, my hands on his shoulder, his hands on my waist, we move slowly to the gentle beat of the music. As I gaze at him, his face a work of art with god like features- his beauty comes to waste as to what comes next. As I scan his face, I catch a tattoo on the side of his face, making me freeze in shock and my head spin with hatred, with the familiarity of the distinct tattoo.

A feeling of excitement course through my body, as I realise that the man in front of me looks like Him. Him; the man that I blame for the ruins in my life, the man that coincidently broke my heart- or what was left of it, the Greek God who's word left permanent scars on me. The man in front of me has the same smile that could charm its way through a heart of stone; the same floppy blond hair that would appear golden in the; the same deep blue eyes that haunted my dreams. His resemblance to Him only fuels my need to have him six feet under. I could taste the sweet revenge on my tongue, as my hand wrapped around his neck.

Her hand clutched at my throat. I gasped in shock, as I felt my windpipe my windpipe crush under her delicate hands- hands that are not meant for violence. As she forced me to look at her stone cold eyes.

I understood she's the predator; I'm her prey.

As I felt my life slip away in the hands of this beautiful stranger, she slowly peeled of her mask. My eyes burned as I saw her the tarnished face beneath, sharp and harsh lines decorated her face- a canvas for a 2 year old incoherent writing. I freeze in shock as if Medusa herself turned me into stone, making me incapable of escaping. A jolt of fear coiled around my spine as I thought about my end, forcing me to fall back into my endless slumber- as I hear the last whispers "Be terrified!"

At the end a lioness always gets her meal.