9/11 Short Stories

Flecks of ash intermingled with snow flitted before him, dancing, twisting, and drifting through the air as they fluttered to earth. The breeze was gentle but biting. His breath, opaque, came in puffs in front of him, clouding his vision from time-to-time. Reflected in his eyes were high flames, golden yellow, bright orange, and brilliant white, and at the very heart of all of these colors, ice blue.

The figure of a young woman lie amidst the pyre of dried wood and grasses. Her body was nearly consumed now, flesh charred black, becoming the bits of soft ash that littered the snow before him and fell upon his shoulders. He was laden in a dark cloak, the hood pulled up over his head and lowered to obscure him from the view of those around him.

This wasn't a kind smile, nor one filled with happy thoughts of days gone by. No. This was a smile of satisfaction.

“Adulterer!” The shout came from his left. A man stepped forward and cast something into the flames. It hit the young girls corpse and rolled out the other side.

Turning his head ever so slightly, the cloaked figure shifted his sights on the man. His sneer broadened as he watched the big fellow stumble forward. This man was the woman's betrothed. Or at least he was. Now, he was nothing more than a drunken mess, his hair disheveled, clearly having come straight away from drowning his misery in ale.

Two other men stepped toward the man, reprimanding him for his outburst. They hoisted him up by his arms and threw him in the direction of the downhill slope. Down, down, he rolled, covered in white powder, until he crashed into a tree at the base of the hill with a loud thud. The excitement over, the gathered crowd turned their attention back to fiery attraction and gaped, tears pooled in their eyes, countenances solemn. Following the mass, the man in the cloak turned his gaze back to the girl, just in time to witness the end of the

“My dear,” he said, speaking to her, his chin lifted to look upon her. His teeth were bared in a wicked smile. The woman whipped her head in his direction.

You!

Her anger only fueled him further. “Yes, Love?” His words came as the darkness started in around her.

You did this! You tricked me!

“Me?” he questioned, eyebrows raised in shock. “You're the one who tempted me, though, aren't you, Love? It wasn't me whom pressed mine lips firstly against yours. It wasn't me whom positioned herself so snugly over your cock, now was it?”

Laughing, now, he watched in pure amusement as everything she feared in life wrapped its wicked, cold claws around her wrists, locking her in cuffs and chains.

He watched her chest heave, as if she needed air any longer.

“No, dear.” He was directly in front of her now, “I do believe that was you.”

Cupping her face in his hands, he brought his lips to hers. Her mouth was agape in horror before she bit him, her teeth clamping down over his lower lip. Without so much as a grimace of pain, he leaned back, letting his hands slide gently over her neck, down her shoulders, and sway lackadaisically at his