Oneiros

I

October 31, 2016

Russel James drained another glass of wine, his lips tainted as red from his sloppiness as those of the girls trying to attract his eye across the ballroom. Once, the seductive smiles they flashed at him from below the masks would've given him immense pleasure but times had changed. Today, their frivolities passed unnoticed by the boy, whose thoughts had abandoned him to allow the numbness that always seemed to reside within him nowadays.

This had been his state when the quickly approaching clicking of heels demanded his attention. The sight that befell him shook him awake from his drunken stupor. A young woman stood before him, the ebony of her skin glowing an unnaturally bluish shade in the glare of the fluorescent lights which deflected off the black mask she wore. The cat-like semblance the mask provided her with enhanced the dangerous appeal of her crimson gown which clung to her bust before flowing down in a heavy drapery of velvet skirts.

"What is a handsome young man as you doing alone on a night like this?" Her voice resounded in his ears like the echo of the nightingale in the quiet of the night. "Come dance with me."

She beckoned him with a gloved hand and as if in a trance he allowed himself to be led to the midst of the dance floor. They swayed in rhythm to the melody of the violin and he marveled at the cold that emanated from the thick fabrics covering her waist as well as from her gloved hands. The chill seeped into his bones as he stared into her onyx eyes, experiencing a sudden feeling of falling headfirst into their daunting abyss.

She leaned in to whisper in his ear, the corkscrews of her dark hair brushing his suit, tickling his unshaved face. "It would be rude not to enchant the lady that escorted you onto the dance floor with your talk, wouldn't it? Mr...." she trailed of, her large eyes staring at him with feigned innocence from between the gold engravings on her mask.

"Mr. James. Russel James." His voice sounded hoarse indicating it's lack of use.

The act of responding woke him from his enchantment. Or perhaps, a more truthful statement would be that the girl was not the only one playing anymore. His grip on her waist tightened as he inhaled the uncharacteristically sweet scent of roses that enveloped her. "And who might you be, m'lady?" His throaty voice had adopted a depth that now made it sound husky.

"Me?" She laughed, a tinkling sound that warmed his insides and chilled his bones all at once. "I'm the lady of your dreams."

"Classy flirting," he observed. "I like it. But I should like more to know of your name."

"Kyria Morpheus." Her name echoed in his ear and etched itself into his heart where it would remain for eternity as he dipped her low. Her back arched elegantly before she straightened and resumed dancing around with the grace of a panther, her lithe movements making it difficult even for his trained body to keep up with. He had just broken from a synchronization when she snatched the opportunity to change tactics and whip herself from his grip to wrap her arm around his torso instead. She pulled his back with a force that betrayed her slim figure and balancing his bulkiness on her arm, she bent low over him to whisper, "My name-" her pointed nail tipped his chin back up towards her face, her endless orbs imprisoning his gaze that had just travelled down to the dip of her neckline. "Is Kyria Morpheus. And it would do you good to remember that Kyria Morpheus always holds the position above." This should have been his first warning but a privileged life had muted his instincts of danger.

He regained his previous posture and smirked at her. "I like the bossy act," he said, although he wasn't all too certain that it was an act.

After a few more minutes of parrying with limbs, he said, "It's a little crowded in here, don't you think? How about we take this somewhere more... private?"