𝗙𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗻

The Lady in Black

A man came across this old tower one day. It was straight like from a book he once read. He lifted his head up and saw this young lady. And here's what the lady said:

"Moi je m'appelle mademoiselle noir
Et comme vous pouvez le voir
Je ne souris, ni ris, ni vis."

Et c'est tout ce qu'elle a dit.

The man was so scared he could only run away. He ran to the town and then said:

"I just saw a lady with the longest dark hair. And I think she's a living dead!"

The people, so scared, took their guns and their swords. They ran to the tower and then... They saw the pale lady and felt a great fear, when they heard how she said it again:

"Moi je m'appelle mademoiselle noir
Et comme vous pouvez le voir
Je ne souris, ni ris, ni vis."

Et c'est tout ce qu'elle a dit.

The people, they knew what this all was about. She was clearly a demon from hell. They decided to set her long hair on fire. In the end it would burn her as well. But the lady was no demon she was a lonely soul. Just like in that book they once read. Still waiting for her prince while her hair was on fire. The one last time she said:

"Moi je m'appelle mademoiselle noir
Et comme vous pouvez le voir
Je ne souris, ni ris, ni vis."

Et c'est tout ce qu'elle a dit.

::

She never smiled.

She never laughed.

And she never lived.

Scarlet Delphine Denuite existed and she existed just barely.

She was born without life, like a porcelain doll crafted to be beautiful without any other use but to be seen, touched and loved.

She felt nothing.

No pain or sorrow nor love and joy.

There was not an ounce of fear in her.

She couldn't regret, she couldn't cherish, she could only be.

She just was.

Scarlet was like a perfect doll.

Beautiful. Obsidian eyes with an enchanting dark sheen, empty and pure. Pale, soft lips the faint pastel colour of cherry. Flesh so smooth and supple forged of hot fire and fine clay then bleached a pale white.

Obedient. Always obeying each and every command. Allowing for them to play with her like the lifeless toy she was.

Silent. She never screamed, even when the flames of hell consumed her.

She died quietly.

A doll who fell into the flames, porcelain bones cracking in the heat, hair burning as tongues of fire licked and climbed the dark dusky locks. Eating insatiably until nothing but ashes remained.

Her eyes sparked with life the moment they brought her death.

Scarlet smiled as the flames consumed her.