TRIGGER WARNING -
• Gore
• Cannibalism
• Violence
• Drug abuse
•~•~•~•~•
When he gazed at her with a passion so deadly-so fatal-he realized he couldn't let her go even when she was bound to annihilate him.
A sealed fate cannot change. Unless it's...
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**Old Memory**
"It's okay! Prince's best friend shall always be on his side, you need not worry."
For a girl her age and size so small, shouldn't make such promises she couldn't keep. But the little boy whose age wasn't any better couldn't help but believe in her little lies.
What a dumb little boy he was.
"How should I believe you? Witches always lie."
The boy wept. Though young the girl consoled the little boy as she whispered sweet lies.
A lie doesn't change if spoken in a sweet voice. A lie is a lie. But the dumb boy doesn't understand.
"A princess of witches does not lie or her tongue may twist and spill the truth, Maman enforced this rule and my tongue obeys. The restrictions strain my very being. I do not tell untruth!" The enthusiasm soon became the reason for the smile that plasters the boy's face.
One ugly truth could have done better. Could have rewritten lives but for a moment of happiness, of life, the boy had filled the hole in his heart with beautiful lies.
After all, they were lies, now or later they were destined to show the reality of them. The ugly in them.
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That Godforsaken fog no longer illuminated the lower half of her and she no longer floated. I had retreated my hand by now as she settled on her feet.
I saw nothing as I predicted-her hair wasn't haglike white, it had the color of sunflower. A mixture of bright golden, beetroot red, and a hint of orange.
Instead of gnarled fingers and crooked nails, long and slender fingers along with dark painted sharp nails took the shape.
Her face was as youthful as ever, however, the pair of blueberry eyes had clouded, and dulled, the passion I had seen was dead or disappeared into the depth in her eyes-when once they reflected on life. On love.
I wasn't surprised.
Without reluctance, my eyes dipped to her clothing. As one wouldn't expect, she wore a dress from centuries ago of fashion-a proper crinoline beneath a ruffled petticoat, the expensive work of bodice fastened still around her upper body, butterfly-styled sleeves draping her slender arms. She wore leather boots as well as a hat with feathers and fabric-made flowers that sat atop her head.
