Sweetie, you had me. uttered words that held no meaning to the porcelain doll. Her lithe bodice sat idly upon the ground, her ivory daggers gleaming in the moonlight as she upon the crested bank, waiting. The last of wet droplets were gleaming on her coat and her bloody storms were gazing mindlessly into the distance, her mind contemplating her next feast. Whatever pathetic soul wandered upon her next might be the one, but that was to be determined at a later date. This vampire doll, for the time being, would control herself. She would continue to sing like a siren and dance like a gypsy. Her escapades becoming grander, her deceit deeper, and her thirst ever growing. The little porcelain doll would never, she would continue on. Searching, seeking and… A-Annabel? stuttered words broke the lady’s concentration. Is it really you my love?

The porcelain lady blinked, she had one of two choices. One: Lure him, feed and let go or Two: Be this ‘Annabel’ and see what happens. The doll was more intrigued by the latter, given she had so recently feasted. Within seconds she shifted her body softer more feminine, her seductive tones replaced by lilting, sing-song lyricals. Darling is that you..? Harlequin gate was gentle and subtle, her lithe bodice floated towards the unknown male, a single gleaming tear dripped down her cheek. My angel lie to me and tell me I'm dreaming… her voice was silk, so perfectly toned, so beautifully enchanting. Harlequin could only hope this would be enough to sway the boy into revealing his own title and their supposed ‘connection’. She continued to drift towards the midnight shadow, his snowy chest the only light on his figure. And as she drew near, she could smell the blood on his pelt—the sweet dreamy scent of crimson fluid that flowed in their veins; the metallic concentration so much higher, so much more alluring. Delectable… The porcelain lady had picked a sure winner this time.

She felt the tingle and soft touch of his fur mingling into her as she let herself lean into him. Harlequin, though for all her heinous crimes, was no whore. She would never love this shadow nor attempt to please him. She would settle on the occasional brush, but she would remain true to herself. This harlequin doll would use the song of siren she so aptly knew.