Her silhouette shrunk against the whispering shadows of the dusky, moon-blanched forest. The trees pierced the sky, cloaked in veils of silky cobwebs glinting in the moonlight, illuminating the limp and lifeless dead bodies draped over the branches, their limbs dangling down intertwined in themselves.

Leaves swirled in the gale like a tornado of death, a murder of ravens perched on rotting organs prising apart veins and bones and nibbling at the treasures that lay beneath the skin. A young girl emerged from the darkness with a menacing, enigmatic grin. “I’ve been expecting you,” she whispered with an unforgivable chuckle and walked towards me.

I backed away, but it was too late. She held her hands in the air, the creases embedded with the scarlet blood of her victims as she began to sing a demented lullaby, ‘песента на смъртта’ also known as ‘the death song.’ Something in her song, her soft yet blood thirsty melody, drew me closer, alluring me towards her gruesome face as she laughed. “Fresh meat, my children,” she muttered as impatient vultures fluttered towards me.

I took the gun in my trembling fingers and pointed it towards my throat. Her voice kept going, enticing me forward. That’s the danger of reality. Beautiful but deadly. A black rose. “Goodbye,” the girl cackled with pleasure as I pulled the trigger and my soul drifted into hell. I would never see the light of day again…