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The meadow glistens, as the sun warms your silky feet. Columbines and cowslips dance in the sun. You watch the sun rise, lustrous and luminous. The squirrels rustle through the fallen leaves, a single, solitary hedgehog tickling your bare arms.

The place remains devoid of any human life, you the sole occupant. And why, you can only wonder. This place is perfectly heavenly, so why are you the sole occupant, drowning in this sublime view?

Lying down in the meadow, you gaze up at the milky clouds, seeing the perfect figure of a woman, those perky breasts and supple thighs.

That would be the only way for this to be more perfect, you muse, eyes closed, listening to the hummingbirds whistle.

Before you know it, the sun is setting in the sky. You awake, rubbing your eyes. A den of butterflies were rested atop your chest, soaring away into the sky as you rise. They join together in the sky, a blinding light rendering your eyes closed. You open them, and she is here.

The grass stains a deep red, as she lowers onto the ground. A blissfully beautiful young woman, utterly bereft of all modesty, with two iridescent, emerald butterfly wings sprouting from her bare, silken back.

As one would expect, you sit silently for some time with little idea of what to do. Her eyes are closed, head bent over. Lustrous, lilac locks hide her face, trailing down to the ground, merging with the lavender now blooming from underneath her pulsating flesh.

You approach her slowly, tentatively poking her ivory shoulder. Where you touch, the skin blisters, stirs into life. A single stalk blooms from her flesh, a sole, lemonade carnation blossoming. It quivers, startled, like a new-born fawn, before turning to the setting sun, absorbing the last of the life it can gain before the stars rise in the sky.

Then she erupts with life. Shamrock, juniper, pine. Her arms, coated with moss and lichen, sprouting myriads of petals. In her hands, a single venus flytrap sprouts. You kneel down, underneath her supple breasts, and touch the plant.

It quivers, sparkles, before delicately opening up its mouth. Inside, a capsule. One half red, the other half blue. Round. Empty. You pick it up, an unpleasant, foreboding sensation rooting deep in your chest.

And she awakens.

Her seafoam eyes turn to you, those slits of pupils conveying a torrent of melancholy and resignation. She smiles a hopeless smile, then climbs atop of you, caressing you in kisses.

You quiver, like the vines cascading round her body. You blush, the same scarlet hue as the sunset. But she is even more beautiful than this picturesque meadow, and so you do not resist. You give in to temptation. Her soft breasts caressed, her russet lips bruised, her knotted hair ensnared.

Entering her, the flowers atop her body rocket into life. They open their petals, admitting forbidden entrance into their stigmata’s. All mysteries are now open to you. Nothing is unknown.

The wind rocks the meadow as the stars begin to raise in the sky, the chameleon flowers cascading in the sky, as their petals rise above, forming a garden of pigments amongst the stars.

And you both are perfect. The moon rises in the sky, and it is red. A sublime blood-moon. It erupts, shattered and destroyed.

You are empty, hollow. All you are and ever will be has been transferred to that succulent warmth betwixt her legs. And she smiles.

You close your eyes once more, returning to your sleep. The warmth of the sun no longer bathes your eyelids, but her warmth is enough, it will always be enough. She kisses your forehead, and you give in to sleep.

*

Your back aches, your forehead throbbing. It’s cold, freezing even. Where did your lover leave you?

And you open your eyes, to a lifeless wall of red and blue. Utter nothingness. You are nowhere.

From outside the capsule, she giggles, and the flowers laugh back to her.

This one was especially delicious, she coos.

She tosses the capsule back into the vending machine and starts over.

 


Happy New Year!   🙂

I hope you like this, I’m really pleased with this story.

I’d recently listened to Viva Forever by the Spice Girls, and I remembered the great music video for the single, which involved fairies trapping a girl in a rubix cube, which is then placed in a capsule machine. So I thought, what if I adapted this idea into something more mature and creepy?

It was a little difficult ensuring this piece was different from my previous Gothic tale, Erl Queen, but I like to imagine these two girls are sisters!

Check out the rest of my series For I Am No Lover of Lilies, here! Its full of dozens more seductresses like this!

Copyright © 2017 Rebecca Sherratt

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