Lust Is But A Vampire

A Man's Traveled Heart

Lust Is But A Vampire

At a late night ball, on the highest mountain top, upon a small range of cascades. There was a woman, a woman of fantasmic beauty. She donned such charm, that it seemed to hypnotize those around her, like mindless insects to light.

She wore a red dress, with hair of the darkest ebony tone. Her eyes were silhouetted in a haze of purple. Her skin, as pale as a shinning moon, her lips, decorated in blood red. Her perfume had a spice only men could understand. A scent, that left their hearts racing like a poor chap for heroin.

Though, this ball filled the chambers of the hosts home. Not a single soul knew who she was. But upon her presence all those who laid eyes upon her froze. Not a single infliction of emotion spurred from their faces. They stared in awe of her beauty in an almost thoughtless pursuit. As if she was a god walking among men.

Even the women embraced her sight, but not in the fiendish way of men. Those men, who laid eyes upon her almost salivated upon her presence. Their eyes would draw wide, as if touched by a living ecstasy.

And as she walked through the crowd of  dazed souls, she would stare into few as if to take their soul. And after only a momentary gaze into her purple hazed eyes, they would follow. Not a word would she whisper. Not even those around them would speak upon seeing such circumstances.

And as these bewildered men followed, music strung out in the air like a dark symphony. Almost as if to play to this woman's design. She smiled as the men followed her with no resistance. And as she smiled the women looked upon with jealousy, hissing at her like roaches. But no attempted was taken to stop her.

The music played on and the ball proceeded with no true interruption. The men followed, and those who did not look upon her danced to the eclectic mystical tones of the music.

As she led these men through the crowded halls of the home. She would sing, her voice would carry like a harp in an empty room. Echoing gracefully off the walls. Collecting in the ears of the men, tingling the senses like a thousand soft touches.

After only a few minutes of this woman leading these enchanted men. They had reached a door, a grand door, a door standing ten feet height and eight feet wide. When she approached it, the men ceased to move.

She opened the doors with the force of her hands and a gust of wind took the space like a breath of a dragon. But the men showed no sign of care for the gusted wind. Their eyes followed only the woman in red. Stuck to her presence like frost upon a rose. She entered the room and the men followed.

Entering the room, the darkness consumed them all. Not even a likeness could be seen of any of them. Once they had all made their way into the room, the doors shut. The ball continued, but all the women approached the door with jealous eyes. Clenching their jaws as they listened with their ears to the walls and doors.

The women had listened for six minutes and the doors opened. A gust a wind released itself again from the room. The darkness abandoned the woman in the red dress, she appeared. Her lips stained still in red, her eyes shinned oddly in a darker more vibrant purple. Her chest rose with quick breaths and she smiled. Walking passed the women and all the men of the ball.

 Leaving the home, never to be seen again.
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A Man's Traveled Heart

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