She glided down the marble staircase; her hands were clutching an ornate mirror. The wind howled with rage outside those dark, vintage French windows; draped in purple velvet. The empty room echoed an eerie silence, and she; her dark curls brushing against her fair skin, stood by those windows the abandoned castle. She touched the velvet, and caressed it with her long fingers - their red shade attracted her attention. What was thirst for blood?
A scurrying sound disturbed her musings, and in flash she caught that rat by it's tail - and flung it out of an open window. She eyed herself in the ornate mirror, her expression wild. "Why?" she wondered, "am I so addicted to this dark red fluid? What powers lie in those droplets that I love so?" She smiled at herself in the antique mirror that reflected her beautiful face, and glanced at her incomplete canvas. She sighed. The dark room lit up suddenly in an eerie glow as the thunder struck, the lightning found her rushing to the window - for there he was, her beloved man. Her dark red gown fluttered behind as she hurried towards him, and they embraced under the yew trees. She led him in, even as he eyed her painting with an air of longing.
"Oh. You're admiring my work. It shall be complete it by today." She smiled.
He nodded, a bit flushed by the elegance displayed by her. She intimidated, yet attracted him - with her own peculiar brand of charm.
She walked up to him, a tea tray in her hand. As he sipped, she quietly picked up the ornate mirror and glanced at herself, before she dropped it on the marble floor - shattering it into a million pieces. He turned to look at his lady, even as a piece went scratch on his chest; drawing blood. Droplets of red spurted out, even as she shuddered and collapsed, his eyes bloodshot. He quietly watched his own blood oozing out of the numerous scratches she made on him, and dipped her brush into those - painting the story of death. The shattered pieces lay, reflecting his horrified expression in front of her cold, expressionless eyes.
Eyes, that spoke the tale of another death.
Eyes, that wove the web of another trap.
Eyes, that hid a million secrets.
Eyes, that shattered reflections of herself.
Everyday.