Duality
A Tale of the Night World
Prologue:
Among the Lamia, daughters must be seen and not heard. This wasn't why Violet bit her tongue when all was said and done but it was as good an excuse as any.
Alone in the cold ante room, quiet like a mausoleum, the quiet of the dead and she did not breath nor speak to disturb the grim peace of the place.
Mascara trails scarred her cheeks, her lipstick smeared around the gash of her mouth, once impeccably style hair now mussed and wild. She lay deceptively calm with her ear pressed to the cool ground.
Her hands felt numb, her skin was broken and she had been bleeding, the wounds were not healing from the hours of pounding on a solid oak door. The very same door that now stood open letting a slim crack of candlelight flicker across her face.
It's too late.
It took her a long time to gather the courage to gather herself up. Red heels and scarlet dress bunched in her bleeding hands. She walked unsteadily out of the room, her footfalls silent.
Once outside she found herself trampling on confetti shaped like flowers and moons. Desecrated wedding decorations. Far too late.
The hall sconces were lit throwing everything in shadow, the bridal bouquet had been arranged on a table as if it were a shrine. Irises and white roses. She put the bunch to her face to sniff, smearing her cracked makeup on the virgin petals. No, it was too late.
She threw the flowers to the ground and relished in the crunch as she stamped on the bulbs. She left the barren house and knew she could never go back. It was simply too late.