The sky was dark—darker than any night the world had ever known. Not a single star dared to shine, as if they had abandoned this world. And the silence— the silence was suffocating.
Snow fell softly, covering the cliffs in a blanket of pure white — untouched and untainted.
Amidst the purity of this frozen world, she stood like an ethereal being, draped in white, her bare feet sinking into the snow as she walked slowly towards the cliff.
Her robe gently flustered against the ghastly icy winds, but she was unbothered, like in a trance, nothing was able to awake her from her world. She seemed serene, almost peaceful, like a ghostly vision against the endless white.
"Milady, stop! Please!" A frantic voice shattered the heavy silence.
A man, breathless and pale, stumbled through the snowdrifts, his steps unsteady as he drew closer. His face was ashen, and his voice trembled with urgency.
"You mustn't walk on the snow with bare feet. You'll freeze—"
She didn't move, her gaze fixed on the abyss before her. But when the man got closer, she slowly turned to face him.
He froze. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes widened in shock. The purity of her robe was ruined—deep red stains bled across the fabric, her hands slick with blood. Her face was pale, streaked with crimson smears that dripped down her chin. And yet, she smiled.
It wasn't the smile of someone in pain or regret. It was haunting, unsettling, as though the blood didn't matter, as though it was all part of some grand design only she understood.
"You're worried about me?" she asked, her voice soft, almost teasing, but it carried a weight that made the air heavier.
The man stammered, his lips trembling as he tried to speak, but no words came out.
She laughed, low and hollow, the sound echoing off the cliffs. "You're afraid. Perhaps you should be."
She stepped back, the snow crunching faintly beneath her feet. "I lost something precious tonight," she murmured, her tone suddenly wistful.
"I was so blind, so foolish, to ignore mother's warnings." Her eyes locked onto his, burning with an unsettling intensity.
Her smile grew, and the resolve in her voice turned to steel. "But now… now I see clearly. I won't make the same mistake again."
The man's legs felt like lead, his fear pinning him to the ground. He reached out a trembling hand. "Please, stop this. Let me help—"
She shook her head, her bare feet stepping closer to the edge of the cliff. The wind whipped around her, carrying the faint scent of blood and the cold bite of snow.
"You can't help me," she murmured, her voice softer now, almost kind. "No one can."
The man reached out again, his hand trembling, but she stepped back, dodging his grasp. Her heels hovered on the edge of the cliff, the abyss waiting eagerly below.
"Stop!" he cried, his voice cracking. "Please, don't—"
Her smile deepened, and she whispered, "I'll return. When the time is right, I'll come back for the one who truly calls for me."
The man lunged forward, panic surging past his fear.
"STOP!" he screamed, but it was too late.
With one final, chilling smile, she let herself fall.
Her figure vanished into the void, swallowed by the darkness below. For a moment, the world seemed to freeze—the snow fell slower, the wind stilled, and even his heartbeat faded.
Then, her laughter pierced the stillness, faint and distant, carried on the wind like a ghost's touch.
Soft and cruel, the sound sent chills down his spine—a haunting melody that echoed around him, as if the night itself were mocking him.
The man sank to his knees, his trembling hands scraping at the snow where she had stood.
His voice finally broke through the frozen air, raw and desperate.
"NO!"