The cold stars spun to the ancient rhythm, the ceaseless shrieking of the high wind. Jagged black branches clawed at the star-speckled dome, and frost embraced the leaves. This forest was a cruel, bitter one, of sturdy wood and crisp air. At its frozen heart, there were two persons, lost. One was a wendigo.
He had heard the calling many nights ago, the day they ran out of food. A yellow moon, singular against the dark. It was difficult to ignore. Eventually, he tried to kill it, as they all do. Silly.
The presence is not hunted, it hunts. It is not called. It calls.
Combining their minds was effortlessly easy. The presence was in control, of course. And soon, their thoughts became one, about one.
There are things so terrible they are forgotten, and there are things so wonderful they cannot be recalled.
Her delicate, golden eyes framed by orange lace; the velvety purple shadows that traced her features; the soft, rosy glow of her cheeks; the light curves of her plump lips, made to be traced; the scarlet river of fire that ran down her back like water; the milky white skin that showed the faint tangles of her veins. She was tall, graceful, and lithe, as elegant as a fox and equally as cunning, and as beautiful as a sunset.
He loved and hated her fiercely, passionately, an emotion that felt like cold fire and hot ice deep in his gut every time he looked at her.
She followed him, unsuspecting. He knew her entire body like the back of his hand, every flaw and every imperfection. He was intimate with her, but what enraged him was that he wasn’t the only one who was.
The blood stuck to his fingers, tacky and warm. In her exposed, rotting chest cavity, flies danced, a writhing, feverish waltz. They laid their eggs in her open torso. Her eyes, lightless, gazed unseeingly at the sunset as his fingers closed around her heart, an attractive shade of bright crimson. Some blood splattered on the snow, wine against an angel’s wings. He felt no perversion as he chewed, just an inescapable, wild hunger. The need for more overcame him and he moved on to her stomach, her intestines. Even eating, he was starving, and as he swallowed, he wailed in delighted despair.


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