The Fountain

October 16, 2017

The sun gleams off of the golden coin as it flips through the air. Red hair blowing across her pale and freckled face as her emerald green eyes follow the once-in-a-lifetime coin as it falls into the dark blue folds of the water, making a soft plop as it sinks. Angry tears welling up in her, now red, eyes, making a glassy texture glimmer in the light. Dark grey, almost black, smoke starts to unfurl from the icy waters where her coin had fallen. The smoke curls around the cracked white columns of the old fountain and through the deep green leaves of the trees. Eleanor’s slender hands rest, shoved into the warm pockets of her navy blue hoodie. Her body was shaking, not just from the chilly winds blowing against her but also because of the fury boiling inside of her, like a steaming pot with a lid tightened too fast.

There was a legend that whispered through this old town about a fountain that rested in the heart of the forest and of its demon that lurked beneath the glassy waters, waiting. Waiting for some anger ridden soul to find the coin of ?ntikam and hurl it in.

The smoke evaporated and in its place rested a sylphlike figure. The slender figure sat upon a tree branch, her legs crossed. Eleanor might even think this creature was beautiful if it wasn’t for the creepy allure she radiated. Her ravenous locks hung over her chalk white face, only parting enough to reveal a single black eye and the corner of her lips. A white dress hung from her svelte frame, a slit in the dress running from her upper thigh to them hem of her dress. “Why do come to me?” The demon asks, her head tilting to one side. Her voice rang through the air as if thousands of people were speaking at once. Eleanor flinched slightly before straightening herself, “I come to you because I seek revenge on the man who killed my entire family.” The redhead spoke clearly, her voice filled with hatred.

The corner of the demon’s lips tug until it spread into a sharp-toothed smile, with that she vanished leaving Eleanor with a sense of dread coiling in the pit of her stomach. It would all finally be over.






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