In a high, dilapidated tower she waited, as old as time. Her long pale hair was spread around her on the pillow, glimmering like dark gold in the moonlight. She wore an old gown which was tattered and stained with age, though the hands which lay on the bed, encircled in tattered ruffles, were pale and slender, clearly the hands of a young woman.
He stared at her with a sense of obsession, his green eyes narrowed. I will have you, beauty, he thought. You are mine in life or in death.
He stared at her with a sense of obsession, his green eyes narrowed. I will have you, beauty, he thought. You are mine in life or in death.