Dry Heat

The Girl in the Mask

By Taylor Robinson

     She entered the room and time stopped. All eyes began to point in her direction. Her hair was ebony black, twisted on top of her head in an elaborate knot. Resting upon her face was the most elegant black mask that perfectly framed her face. Peering through the mask was a set of blue eyes. They shined like stars in the night. Her skin was flawless porcelain, unmarred by any markings. Pulling everything together was a long black gown, the color of the night's sky. The dress was perfectly stitched and almost as lovely as the girl wearing it. Not a soul in the room could feel superior to this masked maiden.

     This, the prince thought, was intriguing. For the first time that night, he rose from his seat. With a fluid and graceful steps, he made his way across the hall to the masked maiden.

     Looking at her elegant beauty, the prince made the conclusion that she would be his by the end of the night.

     He stopped in front of her, tilting his head to the ground and reaching out his hand. The woman took it and left a gentle kiss upon his ring. "Your highness." The woman said.

    The prince grinned, his eyes locked on the woman. "Dance with me." He said. The words were an offer, but not a question. A sentence not on can say no to.

    The woman followed him out onto the floor and together, they danced. Swirling around the room, they were a perfect image of beauty. All the guests watched them move. Even the exotic dancers stopped what they were doing to watch the pair glide across the floor. It was almost hypnotizing.

     The clock struck midnight with a loud ring. The masked maiden smiled at the one who held her hand. Her eyes gleamed in the night. However, it was a different sort of sparkle they held. She looked into her prince's eyes and pulled him away from the crowd.

     Outside of the ballroom was the most flourished garden one might ever lay eyes on. It was nearly two acres of complete beauty. Directly in the center was a coy pond filled with the glow of the full moon.

     “Come with me,” The girl grinned at her prince. “I want to see the moon at its highest.”

     So the two went to the center of the garden, right at the edge of this little coy pond. The moon's reflection was bright and clear at the water's rippling surface.

     “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The prince smiled. He turned to meet the eyes of his masked maiden.

Something had now truly changed. The girls eyes, once gorgeous blue, flashed a bloody scarlet for just a moment before return to normal. Before the prince could respond, the girl reached up and pulled the mask from her face. Surrounding her eyes were the marks of a witch.

     Inky lines traced out an intricate design that wrapped around each eye and stretched over to her temples.

     The world became foggy in the prince's eyes. He was overwhelmed with feelings. His mind raced through the track of the seven deadly sins. First he felt a violent and bitter wrath for this woman, for tricking him. Then he was consumed with pride that she had chosen him above all the others. He soon felt greed and gluttony, sloth and envy. His body and mind raced through the feelings at an alarming rate, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel his stomach turning and twisting. His head throbbed in a burning pain.

     Finally, he fell victim to lust. The twisted image of the witch enthralled in a way that scared him to his core. The witch had brought out of him the biggest downfall he had, the crutch he always leaned on. His vain desire for a love built entirely of flesh. His pupils dilated, staring at the woman in front of him. Betwixt their bodies was the purest, darkest feeling the prince had ever known in his life. And yet, the evil air attracted the spelled prince like an alluring perfume.

     The two collided, lips molding together, sealing off the spell.

     Upon the moment of contact, the prince's body collapsed. Falling to his knees, all the air was sucked dry from his lungs. His heart that had once been filled with desire now was heavy as cement. He collapsed into the pond and all the water vanished. Erupting from the ground were thorn covered vines. They wrapped around the prince, pulling him close to the ground. Bushes and weeds shot up around the Prince creating an impossible labyrinth over the entire garden.

     The witch stood, laughing over her work as she slowly turned to stone. Her body became a statue, standing behind the frozen Prince.

     The party guests watched the horrors arise in the garden. They sought out to a psychic versed in black magic. According to her, the only way to free the prince from his prison was to send in the most beautiful woman from the kingdom.

     For years, people scoured the maze in search of the lost prince. Nearly a decade later, on the night of the winter solstice, a small group of soldiers found the prince. It appeared as though he was only sleeping, wrapped in a blanket of vines.

     The King, now in his last years of life, sent out to find the most beautiful maiden in the kingdom to awaken his son. A group of four soldiers went out and looked through every single village, searching every single house.

     After a three day search, a girl from a small village was selected. She was the picture of beauty with long blond hair and big brown eyes. She had a voluptuous figure and baby-soft skin.

     The girl was sent alone into the maze with clear directions.

     At the stroke of midnight, she found the Prince. She was taken aback by his beauty. Even in this state, he was clearly a very handsome man. His soft brown curls framed his face which looked so peaceful in his slumber.

     The girl got down on her knees and leaned down to the Prince. Gently, she pressed her lips against his and felt the heat rising in his cold body. The Prince was once again filled with life as his heart broke from its silence and beat once again. The vines and the labyrinth crawled back into the ground to reveal the illustrious garden.

     The girl, however, had a different story. Her body grew cold and her heart burned with darkness. Her chocolate eyes flash a bloody scarlet. The curse of the night was now thrust upon her as the mark of the witch etched itself onto her flesh.

Turning from the prince, she face the statue that was soon fading to nothing. Laying on the ground where the statue vanished from was a black and silver mask. She lifted it to her eyes to find it was perfectly shaped to her face as if a master tailor had made it just for her. She turned back to the Prince with a wicked grin.