Phantoms of Folklore

Sylvia

One human foot, one cow's hoof hidden under her dress

This is the lady of night: The La Diablesse

Sylvia

The festivities that night drew Marlo in like a moth to a flame. He overindulged in the overflowing ale, he gambled half his pay cheque away and he danced until he almost fell over. He lay outside, slumped against the wall on the pavement. The party raged on inside the club. There were revelers more determined than even Marlo after all. Marlo was not quite ready to go home yet, but then again, Marlo had never had the best judgement. It was this inherent flaw, this great weakness that always got him into sticky situations. But Marlo had not really met trouble yet. Trouble was on her way in a floor-length gown, strutting down the pavement towards a semi-conscious Marlo.

Marlo had been drifting off to a drunken sleep but his half-closed eyes snapped wide open when he saw her. She was standing right before him. Her statuesque frame was complimented by her form-fitting shimmering silk dress. Her skin seemed golden in the yellow glow of the street lamps. Her long dark curls were topped off with a wide-brimmed hat that sloped slightly on her head, casting part of her face in shadow. Despite the shadow cast by her hat and the blurred vision caused by the rum, Marlo could tell that this woman was beautiful beyond words. He had never seen anyone like her. He scrambled to his feet, clinging to the wall to catch his balance. The sudden appearance of the woman seemed to have shocked Marlo out of his drunken stupor.

"Hi, didn't see you in there?" said Marlo, gesturing towards the club, "Did you just arrive?"

The woman's almond-shaped eyes trailed over Marlo and then turned to the double doors of the night club for a moment. The pulsing beat of the music caused a slight vibration of the building. Howls and squeals could be heard coming from the party. A few party-goers came hurtling out of the establishment. A laughing girl and a disgruntled-looking one propped up a third between them as they carried her out. The woman in the hat and gown gazed at them disdainfully. Marlo tried to guess what she was thinking.

"These young people these days. I never drink too much myself. I just have a little sip. I stay within my limits. That's what a mature person does," said Marlo in what he hoped was a serious tone.

The woman smiled slightly.

"What's your name?" asked Marlo, grinning, pleased that he had made her smile.

"Many things," said the woman.

Her voice was like the chiming of church bells.

Marlo laughed. It was a joke, right?

The woman frowned at him. Tilting her head to one side, she asked: "What do you want to call me?"

Marlo peered at the woman for a moment, noticing how her silvery dress shone in the moonlight.

"Sylvia," he said.

"Then that is my name. Sylvia," said Sylvia, simply.

Ok, Marlo thought. The woman, Sylvia, was a bit strange but she was so beautiful.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" asked Sylvia.

"I'd love to," replied Marlo without an ounce of hesitation.

Sylvia began walking away without another word. She crossed the street. Marlo followed without question. The night club was popular but had been built in a rural area so as to have more space for less money. It was a good enough club that people drove out of town to get to it. Sylvia was heading towards a large grassy park. Even though it seemed inappropriate to have a park for children next to a club for adults, it worked out well. The children played during the day when the club was closed and the adults partied during the night when the park was deserted.