Midnight Reflections -|- Meeting with Lady Kalika -|-

The moon was high, the large orb within the sky blistered with craters as the holes exposed, hung within the sky as stars scatted above. The billowing clouds a smear of grey covering some stars in a quilted blanket. The night was silent as she waited. Gloved hands coiled along a handle as she rose the lantern above her head. The melting candle glowing, a dim light welcoming her face. Pale blue eyes looked within the flames as she wore a silver hooded robe, white fur trimmed the raised hood, following the wrists and edges of the robe. It fit loosely along her form as the fabric kept the numbing flesh consistent. Her lips painted white as her ivory skin glowed.

Margo was angel among the walking dead, at peace with her existence. She yearned the attention of Lady Kalika as the two can exchange the truth beyond appearance. Things are more what they appeared. Margo followed the edge of the lake as she kept close to land. Her free hand pinching the side of the robe as to keep it lifted and pure. Her heels squishing in the soft ground as her eyes looked up at the trees. Silence is much like death, alone, empty.

Margo’s nostrils flickered lightly as she listened for the sound of the adorable creature. Much is to be taught, much is to be discussed. All within the realm. Margo looked at Kalika as an inspiration, a flawless muse whose yet to see the artistry about her beauty. Those sharpened teeth, that jagged smile, beautiful. Kalika was charming, Kalika was dark. If only Margo could look at her, so Margo can instill perhaps her final lesson on the creature.

Margo felt the touch of willow branches as the limbs entangled along her shoulders. A false hug as the tree embraced her. Margo stood still as her chest slowly rose and fell. The water a mirror, as the night had two moons, one far off in the distance, the other so close. Margo smiled at the sight. Kalika was a mirror, her true self so far away, the illusion of her twin inches close. She needed Kalika for the days to come, Margo needed her so very much.

Two morbid souls dancing a waltz forcing the woman to submit with false adornment. Her beautiful clothing, her pretty little face, all fake as she would spin on the dance floor. Margo felt the woman hated her, she felt the tension within Kalika’s gaze. Margo felt the anger, the hostility, the grinding of spikes along spikes as Kalika’s mouth would tense. Margo loved the woman. She knew the proposal she would give Kalika would be unsatisfactory, however, if Kalika kept face perhaps she would humor an old scholar just one more time.

Eyes glowed listening to the soft steps of her adoring Lady Fair. Kalika arrived as she greeted the meeting with a whispering charm, Kalika’s voice like the wind, blowing into the scholars ear. Tempting. Margo turned her head as she watched the maiden curtsey. Margo bowed her head as her smile grew faint, instructing the point of her visit, the need of the two.

“My adoring Charmer, I called for you tonight, for you are the reason I am here. I wander at times, leaving the class as I am drawn to an easier place. Where the dead rise, walking along the living, thirsting for carnage, sweet, sweet flesh. Veins like streams blotting the skin in such beautiful blue hues, tormenting us. The pulse in the living’s neck, vibrating, twitching.” Margo would gasp as she described the sensation, her own hands moving to cup her neck as her eyes rolled at the memory. Saliva tricking out from the corners of her lips dribbling down her chin. Margo laughed lightly as she ran her tongue to scoop up the gooey self stimulation as she pushed herself forward brushing against Kalika’s flesh, pressing the Lady Fair into the bark of the Willow.

Margo tilted her head as she ran her lips along Kalika’s neck as she moved her lips towards Kalika’s earlobe. “My sweet precious little Fae, you and I are but the same. To tame monster dormant within, to withstand temptation with every whelm, to abide by law, to shrivel inside, yearning to unleash the monster.” Margo’s warm breath coiled along Kalika’s neck choking her with erotic play. A side never exposed by the scholar. Margo pulled away as she laughed lightly. “Oh my darling, we are actresses within the world. We both can play various roles, I such a Formal teacher, a humbling seductress, the prude! So many titles, so many divisions as we break our bodies own soul. I demonstrated a proposal. The reason why I asked you here is for I shall honor you in the weeks to come, a Masquerade where I yearn for you to be marveled.”

Margo laced her fingers as her slender arms moved towards her back, shoulders circled as she stood with poise, a statue before the maiden. “All shall be in masks, all hiding themselves. You milady are always hiding, perhaps it is time for a portion of yourself, your true self to enlighten the world.” Margo tipped her head as a few strands bounced over her face. “Unless objection is pleaded. You are so powerful my darling, do you wish for control? I wish for blood and I receive tea, sipping so lightly. My fangs sharp, as I grin with such grace.” Margo rolled her eyes lightly as her plump lips pouted.

“Do you forgive me? Forgive my wickedness as I subject myself to such torture? To pretend I do not hunger nor crave? Am I wicked? A man came into my classroom, no bible in his hand, no crucifix, no jury. No crime did I commit. However, so bold was he to shout Monster! Blaming me for thousands of slaying, giving me far too much credit. For am I a killer? A monster! I was distraught. A victim from banter, than….than I discovered such a tragic fate, he was a slayer, a murderer of the walking dead? My kindred blood hunters gone. What am I to do? Roam this world in their loses for I did not know them by name Milady.”

The Professor turned her head winking lightly at the maiden. “You see my darling creature, so lovely and poise. Do not fear persecution, for within this realm we have hunters, we have prey, and we have the omnivorous. Those who crave both sides. You play it safe by wearing a mask all the time, be true to yourself on that dark night, the moon shall be high, the stars sparkling. You My Lady Fair, are far more true than I shall ever be. For a scholar who pretends, can only teach what they repeat. Do not sell yourself short for if that slayer kept his spikes, and no longer kept to the Library I could be gone….forever. Do not allow others to limit yourself, be proud of who you are! You are My Lady Fair. If a Lord does not ask you, please walk with me?”

Margo giggled as she curtsied before the gem. “Be my Onyx, let me be your pearl. For that is what I am, a grain of sand who morphed into something more. A pretender for over a hundred years. A Fairy Tale savior who did not bake pumpkin pie……who simply gave a woman until midnight to be herself and find what she deserved. I can make you a coach, I can give you slippers, I can dress you so beautifully, but it is you they are coming to see so unexpectedly.”