She dances with the devil.
Every night he appears.
Slipping out from the shadows.
He looks like an average young man.
At least, that's what he wants people to see.
That's not his true form.
He preys on his victims by a curse. He curses them to dance with him.
Forever.
Dancing.
And dancing.
Never-ending.
They would dance and dance, until her soles were burnt out, until she ran out of breath, and until she collapsed to the floor, dead.
The devil would smile.
He would collect her soul, sending her straight to the damned Hell itself.
He would point to the sky and laugh at the angels weeping.
They couldn't save her.
YOU ARE READING
Collection Of Dark POVs. Vol. 1
Short Story''Darling, if your looks could kill, this ballroom would suffer a massacre,'' he mutters, the corners of his lips lifting. You smirk. ''Ah, but where's the fun in doing it that way.''
