It wasn’t the kind of place you’d expect to see someone like her. She was the type you’d see in the underground poetry clubs bearing her emo soul out before an audience that felt much of the same thing.
She had short black hair that curled under her chin and bangs that covered her right eye, a pale complexion, red-painted lips, and she wore a lot of black eyeliner. She was one of those goth-emo types that seemed to attract his attention. However, this girl was different from his normal infatuations. She didn’t seem like a tormented soul at all as she lay out in a field of wild flowers, but he knew better.
He positioned himself in a sitting position on top of a large rock on the far end of the field and watched her as she lay there beneath the night sky, a soft breeze moving the flowers around her body.
“Hey,” she said, without even opening her eyes. He didn’t answer her salutation, instead he slid from the rock and approached her.
“Desdemona?” He asked, even though he already knew it was her.
“Yes,” she answered, eyes still closed. He knelt next to her and stared at her pale face, red lips, and charcoal painted eyes.
“I am Thanthos,” he answered, “I have a request.”
“And if I refuse?” she questioned, obviously knowing what the michevious spirit was up to.
“You know full well,” he began, “what will happen if you refuse me.”
“I do,” she answered. He traced over her cheek with black painted nails as she lay completely still.