Talisman

The Cult- The Witch

The bass permeates.  A sound primal that emerged from the very belly of the earth.  Such was the call.

She held the promise.  What was the promise?  What was your wish?  Her upturned smirk, if she decided to ensnare you, was all that it took.  A promise of everything, that would only cost... everything.  But it was a price so many were willing to pay.  Pay... even if they received nothing.  Caveat emptor.  Always, caveat emptor.

What is to be said of the seduction?  Her face, perfect.  Her mouth, filled with words belonging to the story you so desperately wanted to hear.  Breasts, firmly jutting forth in arrogance.  Her hips, they slid svelte as she walked.  A beckoning?  A challenge?  Her beauty was in the eye of the beholder, yet all were transfixed.

Yet one adornment held the curious viewer transfixed.  Her talisman.  It hung from her neck.  Golden chain connection allowed the soft gentle sway in a dangling swirl.  Gold.  Simple.  Perfect contrast to the blouse, which was complimented the flowing yellow dress so well.  So very well.  An exacting perfection.

It almost drew one away.  But then, the sublime body filled with promise drew most away in her sway.  Most, but not him.  Knowing her efforts to present the perfect promise, this aberration drew his attention.
   
Except he found... it wasn't to be discussed.  The smile seduced, drew the attention from.  However, it was always drawn back  Then came the one night 

Then came that sometime.  During a brief respite of an explosion of passion draining, perhaps her control was weak, or perhaps a moment to advance a promise.  He asked.  She answered.

She wove an incredulous tale.  A fascination with the other side.  A midnight awakening to find herself being dragged across the floor by a force she could not control.  A dalliance with the dark side gone awry.  Fear consumed her.  Consumed her parents.  A transfer.  A search for safety.  Like a fool he took it, word for word.  You can't blame him, such accidents happen in the thing called love.  That moment of absolute trust.  When you are supposed to be off your guard.

She was full of promises.

Indeed, two weeks later, he remembers waking in the middle of the night.  He felt the weight of her lying beside him.  The depression in the mattress next to him made him smile... until he realized where he was.  There was no way that depression could have been her.  He did not dare to turn.

Later questioning proved she had forgotten about this tale.  As well as others.  Promises made... so easily turned into promises forgotten.

He laughed.

Yet...

The bass permeates.