In the cold sky hung the cold stars. Ever watching, ever burning with their cold light. Never clouded, the cold stars in their cold sky looked down upon a cold castle on a cold mountain. This is what they saw...
...
The woman gasped at the sight.
"It's beautiful! We're above the clouds! How did you ever find such a place?" Her breath made little clouds of steam, before the cold wind blew them away.
A man stood behind her, tall and pale. Cold as the stars. He spoke.
"I collected it in my travels. I collect beautiful things." The cold man moved closer as the woman's slim frame shivered in the wind. His breath made no steam.
The woman turned with an impish look in her dark eyes. "Are you going to collect me too?" she asked, in a tone that suggested he'd best not say no.
The cold man moved closer, drawing her to him.
"I already have," he breathed in her ear, before sweeping her up in a passionate kiss. The woman gasped at his cold touch, and he drew back as the gasp turned to a scream. The scream heightened. In the depths of soul tearing agony, the woman's body convulsed as skin wrinkled, organs rotted, hair fell out, bones poked through decaying flesh. The cold man turned with a cold smile on his cold face. The scream stopped, and with a flash a black page flew to his cold hand. He examined it briefly before tucking it into his dark grimoire and pushing aside the curtain. Leaving the corpse on the balcony to clean up it's own mess. Beauty no longer, her cold flesh scraped across cold stones as she shambled away into the depths of the cold castle.
...
And the cold stars looked down from their cold sky, and shone with a cold light.
In the cold sky hung the cold stars. Ever watching, ever burning with their cold light. Never clouded, the cold stars in their cold sky looked down upon a cold castle on a cold mountain. This is what they saw...
...
The woman gasped at the sight.
"It's beautiful! We're above the clouds! How did you ever find such a place?" Her breath made little clouds of steam, before the cold wind blew them away.
A man stood behind her, tall and pale. Cold as the stars. He spoke.
"I collected it in my travels. I collect beautiful things." The cold man moved closer as the woman's slim frame shivered in the wind. His breath made no steam.
The woman turned with an impish look in her dark eyes. "Are you going to collect me too?" she asked, in a tone that suggested he'd best not say no.
The cold man moved closer, drawing her to him.
"I already have," he breathed in her ear, before sweeping her up in a passionate kiss. The woman gasped at his cold touch, and he drew back as the gasp turned to a scream. The scream heightened. In the depths of soul tearing agony, the woman's body convulsed as skin wrinkled, organs rotted, hair fell out, bones poked through decaying flesh. The cold man turned with a cold smile on his cold face. The scream stopped, and with a flash a black page flew to his cold hand. He examined it briefly before tucking it into his dark grimoire and pushing aside the curtain. Leaving the corpse on the balcony to clean up it's own mess. Beauty no longer, her cold flesh scraped across cold stones as she shambled away into the depths of the cold castle.
...
And the cold stars looked down from their cold sky, and shone with a cold light.