Her dress flowed beautifully, a sea of sparkling fabric. Her hair curls sparkled under the lights, like silk made of gold. Her bird mask made her look like a peacock, displaying it’s feathers for all to see. No one knew who she was, but no one could keep their eyes off her. Women, Men, anyone who was witness to her presence couldn’t help but want her all to themselves, if only for one night.
At a party, she’d take a partner, and make them believe no other party in their lifetime could compare to this. Then, she’d take them into an alley, sweet talk and alcohol making the poor sap too foolish to see the signs. Then, the beak of her mask would open, and her head would jerk for a swift bite. Their neck would be gushing blood the next moment. Too drunk to run, their throat too torn apart to scream, they had long lost their chance to escape.
Her wings would unfurl, as dark and as haunting beautiful as her mask, and her long talons stretched from her fingers. Digging into the flesh of the poor bastard, she’d soar off, taken the drunken fool off to their demise. And then she’d be back in the next night, or the next week, at another party. Always haunting for a new fool.
Oh, if only more people saw her eyes, they’d know. No human has those eyes,
those glowing soulless pits. Maybe they’d believe me then.