Deep where the trees grow free from the wiles of modernity, he lives deep within walls of stone�where high towers linger high above the torn embattlements. His call beckons�her to come, and when she does,�she is�forever enraptured by the spell. An innocent spell. Night after night he keeps his guest bound to the rich pleasures when one day, his guest finds all life has passed her by. He leaves her alone to find another while the pall of age settles into her spent bones. No one is there for her, and with the reality, she screams a scream that echos throughout the stone hallways with pouncing ferocity, and the edges of his lips reach his cheekbones; but only for a second, for he is wanting and needing of something more.
Her wrath is vain and her seething anger gives way to the depressions, and soon the airy angels come to sweep away the dust of her dying frame, for it is as he wished, her life dissipated for the lengthening of his own. She has become one with the vanishing twilight.
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