The smoke seemed to part as she walked into the room, her presence drawing the male attention her direction. She was a throwback to bygone time when women had curves. Full lips dressed her smile in velvety softness. Her dress (yes, she wore a dress) hugged her curves in delicious rose red silk. Of course she wore red, Mike thought. The other women in the bar were forgotten, clouded illusions in her presence.
Ember Leon spotted him in the corner and narrowed her eyes in intent. She knew he was there for her, even as he chewed the pipe thoughtfully. He watched her movements, her approach like a cat hunting its prey. He knew he was caught in her trap but the prize she dangled before him was well worth the risk.
Mike reached for her hand as she joined him in the booth. Her voice greeted him with deep notes of promise. He knew the promises were empty, still he could deny her nothing. She slowly removed the gloves from her hand as he ordered her drink. When it arrived, she slowly drank the rum and coke and it seemed as if the tendrils of her words ensnared him as the alcohol wound its way through her body, loosening her inhibitions just a wee bit more.
He found himself wrapping his arms around her, dancing to the slow ballad, and as her lips brushed against the pulse of his throat, he knew this was a bad idea. Yet, he followed her out the door. She looked back, encouraging him with her smile. “Mikel, dearest…you know you want to finish this dance.” He was gone, lost in her spell, and she wove it well.
Their steps carried them to the edge of the walk where an unpaved path carried them further from the lights of town. The smoke that shrouded her before was now replaced by mist. He continued to trail after her, trusting her perhaps a bit too much. Still, she offered him a dream. And he wanted to slip into that trance with her.
The cabin seemed to appear out of nowhere, simple in design and not very spacious. He reached for the catch on the door and held it open for her. She stepped inside and he followed. He was surprised when she struck a match and lit a lamp rather than flipping a switch. The lamp revealed little about the house and kept the light closely bound. She led him to an iron bed where her kisses guided him down to the quilted surface. As his eyes closed to take in her touch, the unfamiliar coldness entered his soul. He opened his eyes and realized she had stolen his heart.
Days later a body was recovered at the end of the trail. The cabin had faded into the charred foundations as daylight flooded the wood. The siren of the woods had taken yet another victim, feasting on yet another heart.
This was written in response to The Mid-Week Blues-Buster Week 2.23. The songs involved in this inspiration include Cory Chisel and the Wondering Sons “Home in the Woods” and the Eagles “Witchy Woman”. I hope this warmed you and chilled you.