Amaranthine: Beauty Within Darkness

A Modern-Day Masquerade

Author's Note: This is my entry for Day 6 of the Halloween Vault, brought to us by @WattVampires . It features Odelie, Eleni's headstrong "goth-chic" daughter from "Immortally Beloved". The story itself is exactly 500 words, which made me proud. ;P

Odelie smiles, watching the molten wax dripping down the copper sconce and landing on the end table. She says nothing, merely perching upon a chair as she waits for her companion to light her cigarette. He does, and equally soundless, returns to offer a pale green aperitif. Everything about the scene is heavy and seductive, but the green fairy within the glass is light and free.

She thinks the young man playing at being a sophisticate looks uncharacteristically nervous. Easing comfortably into a blur of cushions that makes her think of old-school brocade, she runs her hand over his arm. He leans into nibble at her ear, certain of his conquest. "Don't you like absinthe?"

In a somewhat dreamier state of being, his lips begin to move blood and visions of romantic evenings through her mind. The visions do not match the girl, her arms covered in tattoos and an edgy scowl to match. Earlier, Odelie pinned her onyx hair up and added pearl earrings for the costume party. Sitting in an elaborate gown from the 1780's, Odelie drifts into a world where she is someone else.

She murmurs, taking a sip, "Do you like my costume? It even has a masque to complete the look."

The man's hands wrap around her waist, clenched tightly by the corset. "I adore it. You are you, but not you. I never thought I'd see you wearing pink."

Odelie reclines, swallowing the green liquid in a single gulp. "I saw this in the window and I knew as soon as I saw it. It belonged to my mother. I can't imagine she ever dressed in pink, either, but there it was."

Suddenly, the man is the embodiment of elegance. He smiles and arches a brow. Odelie's scented hair and fair skin, so near, whips his mind into frenzy. "It looks like something Marie Antoinette would have worn. Your mother must have been theatrical.."

Odelie leans in, seduced by the power of the gown and the lure of Bizet's Carmen. It is an appropriate choice. "That she is. The world falls at her feet like unworthy flowers. I wanted to feel that desired."

The words fall on entranced ears as the man drinks the aperitif.  Odelie's supple lips are a crimson darkness that consumes him. It is written on his face.

"You---are that desired. Don't you know that, little swan?"

She moves to sit on his lap, taking the glass. Odelie's sparkling azure eyes note how soft and compliant he feels. She watches the young man grow heady with powerlessness.

This is what she does, Odelie thinks. This is why she can have anything.

Odelie kisses the man gently, Carmen urging seduction in the background. With a knowing look, she picks up his wrist.

The flesh meets crimson. Odelie's voice is a whisper. "Yes, darling. I do know."

She hears the sharp cry, the moan that signifies the ultimate submission. Her eyes are closed, but she drinks deeply from a different kind of euphoria.