Papillon

Delusions by MarSilverMoon

FIRST RUNNER-UP

Delusions

Silent whispers could be heard in each corner of the obscure night. Whispers from the moon and stars, whispers from the wind. Tales of love and amity, of loss and despair. Tales of death and blood, of magic and reincarnation.

Tales of delusion.

"Oh, I know that tale!" chirped a cute little girl while pointing at the big old book of fairy tales being held by the blonde male.

Protected under the ever glowing warmth of the mansion, there was nothing to fear. And so, afraid they were not for they had long been blinded from what the bleak future might bring. Or what it might not.

The dark haired girl giggled, "Okay, go on, come and tell us."

The little girl stepped up with the biggest most innocent smile,

"Once upon a time..."

Candlelight dimming as midnight fell over the enchanting city that was Paris. Its specks of light slowly flickering into nothing, living a thin cloud of smoke behind. Upon ending the story, the littlest had gone home, leaving the rest of the night for the joyant teens.

The vast mansion had been properly decorated according to the occasion. Candles had been lightened through every stop and turn of the residence. Their hypnotizing and ever so dizzying aroma rising up into the air with each and every flick of the flame. Great panels of glass which had once been crystal clear were now the deep red color of blood. Such magnetizing color being cast under the gleaming moon.

A beauty in dress glided her bluebell eyes through the luminous ballroom, eager to meet those emerald pools of light that puzzled her mind and numbed her senses. The girl still surprised that mighty Mr. Agreste had agreed to invite Parisian kids to his home to celebrate the spooky season.

"Marinette," his smooth and ever so captivating voice interrupted her musing.

Rapidly, she spun around, meeting a pair of gleaming emeralds, lips molded into a heartwarming smile. Almost immediately, a soft melody, like a lullaby, started playing.

Adrien bowed with a small smile, his rosy cheeks darkening in color slightly, "May I have this dance?"

Marinette returned the smile with a shy gaze, offering her hand, "Yes, you may."

The male took her hand, giving it a light squeeze. Taking a step towards her, he took the risk to place his hand on the small of her back, bringing her closer. Marinette could do nothing but stare at those mesmerizing green eyes of his, those beaming lights that utterly hypnotized her mind and ignited her heart.

And they spinned, round and round under the moon through those blood red panels, and the candles died away with their night, their intoxicating scent becoming heavier in the air. That scent like poison that produced thin clouds of smoke that would fill the festive space. Thin yet so thick that it invaded your senses, your sole being; now disfiguring the joyous faces of those who came in contact to it, those who attempted to escape from it.

But Marinette couldn't notice, she wouldn't notice. Those faces that surrounded her, all so young and hopeful, now blighted by the poison that was the aroma, transformed into a horrible canvas of dripping sentiment. Their bright smiles, their twinkling eyes had died away like those candles, being morphed into an intangible yet so sickening image.

And then there were cries, whimpers, and more whispers. The window, which had converted this scenery into something even more horrific; those transfigured faces tainted with the deep red of blood, was now being pounded by a mysterious figure.