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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #2034202
Besides the gentle wind, all keep silent to hear her sing.
A beautiful voice echoes through the trees, on the wind, and across the land in all directions. From the flowing river comes a voice that sings words unknown to man’s ears, but alluring all the same, and sitting on the bank of the river with her feet immersed and her body draped in sheer wet silk is the voice’s owner, her head tilted back, her golden locks shimmering with moisture and clinging to her back, and her fingers laced together in her lap, scuffed, swollen, and throbbing red. Her voice carries loudly and with a perfect, magical serenity that bends nature in her direction. Vultures circle curiously far overhead, rabbits and raccoons observe from the underbrush, and families of squirrels watch and listen silently from the tallest branches of the surrounding trees. Besides the gentle wind, all keep silent to hear her sing.

Without rest or breath, she chants to the clouds in her strange, heavenly tongue while the rest of nature waits. Finally, a rustle from behind her brings the songstress to silence, and with a twitching ear, she turns her head and opens her bright blue eyes to stare straight at the man in the shadow of the trees.

“Come closer,” she calls out in the common tongue, pulling her soft pink lips into an attractive smile and extending an arm to curl a finger at him as a gesture to approach.

The man eyes the finger and hesitates, but after a moment, he steps out of the trees and into the light. He is a tall, rugged man, in the simple strapped leathers of a hunter, with a bow and quiver on his back, a head of short, brown hair, a bald young face, and a pair of fascinated green eyes. He stops where he is, and the songstress giggles, gazing half-lidded eyes along his frame as she curls a finger and whispers again.

“Closer.”

Her voice makes the hunter tense, and once again, he is hesitant. All of nature continues to watch in total silence as her perfect form and sublime voice draws the man a step closer, close enough for her to bend and reach out an arm to caress his foot without letting her own feet leave the water.

Closer… Sit with me.”

The hunter looks down at her hand. He is as wary as he is enamored, and as savvy as he is entranced. Nevertheless, he obeys, and steps beside her on the riverbank, sinking first to his knees, then to a seat beside the songstress.

“Why are you here?” asks the woman with a tilt of her head as she folds her hands in her lap again.

“I hunt,” the man responds with a nod. “And I seek food for my family. Why are you here?”

The songstress is silent, and for a long moment, only stares. Slowly, she tilts her head upright again and simply responds, “To have fun. Will you play a game with me?”

The hunter looks away toward the trees for a moment, and in that moment, the songstress swiftly licks her lips. When he looks back, he says, “I really must return to my hunt…”

“One little game… Please?” The songstress whines and furrows her brows gently while still keeping her gentle smile. Relenting, the hunter nods, and the woman proceeds. “Close your eyes and let me kiss you.”

Before the hunter can refuse, the beautiful blonde songstress has already closed her own eyes and begun to lean toward him. For the last time, he sighs and relents, doing the same. Before their lips can touch, the woman’s hands rise swiftly from her lap and close around his throat as tightly as they can. The hunter’s eyes open wide, and the songstress grins with absolute glee as she drags his head toward the river with inhuman strength, plunging his head into the cool water and staring happily into his reddening eyes as he claws at her hands and wrists, scuffing them further.

She holds him still until he stops resisting, giggling softly once the bubbles of air stop rising to the surface. The songstress pulls the hunter in further, and waves goodbye as the flowing river carries his body away. She stares at her tender, trembling hands, and resists the urge to clap joyfully this time. She simply clears her throat, laces her fingers together in her lap, tilts her head back, and once again begins to sing.

The vultures begin to follow the river. The rabbits and raccoons creep away back into the woods, and the squirrels chatter and leave to hop from branch to branch once again, at least until the next man arrives.
© Copyright 2015 Calamity Heart (shadowheart10 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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