I could feel the chills rushing up and down my body. "She is mine," the ominous voice said again, low and threatening. Closing my eyes to ward off the increasing panic I was feeling, I suddenly saw images foreign to me. I felt arms about me and heated tears falling on my body. I heard someone calling, "Satine! Satine!" over and over again, then more sobbing.
My mind in a flurry of confusion and memories that I had not witnessed, I instinctively tore off the dress and stared at it in a crumple on my bed, breathing heavily. What was going on? What powers did this dress have? I closed my eyes again to slow my breathing and concentrated on what the old woman had said to me. "It's a strange dress; when you wear it, you'll see."
Later that evening, I decided to try on the bewitched garment again. When I reached out to touch it, my heart started thudding uncontrollably. Swallowing hard to maintain my composure, I slipped the gown on. It fit perfectly; strange, because in the thrift shop, it had been much too long. What was happening to me?
Nearly an hour passed, totally unaffected by the powers of the dress. But then, suddenly, it was nearly impossible to breathe. I gasped in vain for air and collapsed on my bed in a dead faint.
When I came to, nothing was the same. I wasn't me and I wasn't in my bedroom. I was wearing the dress, yet something had happened. I stood, legs shaking, and looked about. I shivered uncontrollably in the cold of the room. It was dark and sparsely furnished, yet the few furnishings depicted great wealth. The chairs were dark mahogany, edged in what looked to be real gold. Paintings showing suffering covered the walls. Silver cutlery and costly china decorated the long dark table. I fingered the red velvet of a chair when I heard a voice behind me. "There you are."
My voice as shaky as my body, I replied, "Who are you?" Unable to turn around, I only listened for the voice behind me.
"Turn around, darling."
I did so and my breath caught in my throat. There, in all his glory, stood the Duke of Monroth.
I was Satine, and I was trapped.
The world closed around me and everything went black as I fell to the floor.
My mind in a flurry of confusion and memories that I had not witnessed, I instinctively tore off the dress and stared at it in a crumple on my bed, breathing heavily. What was going on? What powers did this dress have? I closed my eyes again to slow my breathing and concentrated on what the old woman had said to me. "It's a strange dress; when you wear it, you'll see."
Later that evening, I decided to try on the bewitched garment again. When I reached out to touch it, my heart started thudding uncontrollably. Swallowing hard to maintain my composure, I slipped the gown on. It fit perfectly; strange, because in the thrift shop, it had been much too long. What was happening to me?
Nearly an hour passed, totally unaffected by the powers of the dress. But then, suddenly, it was nearly impossible to breathe. I gasped in vain for air and collapsed on my bed in a dead faint.
When I came to, nothing was the same. I wasn't me and I wasn't in my bedroom. I was wearing the dress, yet something had happened. I stood, legs shaking, and looked about. I shivered uncontrollably in the cold of the room. It was dark and sparsely furnished, yet the few furnishings depicted great wealth. The chairs were dark mahogany, edged in what looked to be real gold. Paintings showing suffering covered the walls. Silver cutlery and costly china decorated the long dark table. I fingered the red velvet of a chair when I heard a voice behind me. "There you are."
My voice as shaky as my body, I replied, "Who are you?" Unable to turn around, I only listened for the voice behind me.
"Turn around, darling."
I did so and my breath caught in my throat. There, in all his glory, stood the Duke of Monroth.
I was Satine, and I was trapped.
The world closed around me and everything went black as I fell to the floor.