Oh, now I do recall. We just were getting to the part, where the shock sets in. And the stomach acid finds a new way to make you get sick. I sure hope you didn't expect to get all of the attention. Let's not get selfish. Did you really think I'd let you kill this chorus? Ivory daggers dipped in crimson fluid glimmered in the moonlight. A porcelain doll, with eyes lined like the Queen of Egypt. The only fault you’ll find in the Queen is her source of blood below her fragile bodice. The lady’s snowy crown lifted up from the limp body, the night’s cover hid her heinous crimes. The soulless but living puppet was passed out beneath her paws, but the doll made sure to keep her paws clean of the life seeping from his veins. Limbs and brush shrouded the snow bird from prying eyes as she feasted, her stained fangs dipping once more into the piercings. The pulse of blood flowing over her sensitive canines sent shivers of excitement down her spine. She relished her ritualistic feedings, because for as demonic as the lady was, she did have tenets. As she released the midnight creature from her deadly grasp, they seemed to sputter to life as if on instinct. The doll emitted as deep, guttural growl sending the shadowy figure scampering into the brambles. This porcelain doll was Harlequin.

Her blood clouded gaze rose up to the sky, a deep release of air rushed out, condensing in front of her maw. The air around her was icy but she felt nothing except the last drip of blood down her throat. She prided herself for not being a cannibal but rather a vampire—she didn’t want to eat her victims. She wanted to feel their life in her paws, feeding her own life force. Harlequin would never be able to say where she developed this life style, but never mind that. She was content to be. In case I lost my train of thought, where was it that we last left off? Soft lyrics drifted up, a lilting, mesmerizing tune leaked out of her rose lips. Her tongue gleamed off the last of the seeping red liquid as she rose up. Her lithe bodice swayed slightly as she regained full consciousness, the drug effect of her feeding wearing away as she stepped out into the moonlight. Her porcelain fur was sleek against her bodice, toned muscles outlined under taut skin.

I’ve got more wit. A better kiss, a hotter touch… The same seductive tones drip from her maw over and over again. Harlequin had learned the art of musical seduction rather than corporeal persuasion, even with her mystical and ethereal beauty. Her dainty paws lifted into a rhythmic canter, carrying her light bodice through the brush towards a spot better suited for company. And it wasn’t long before layers of ash cloaked her snowy fur. A decayed setting stretched before her, so eerily familiar and so enticing. The lithe snow cloaked lady surveyed what lay just out of her reach. An obsidian figure laid out without a care, and as the scent drifted to her nares Harlequin felt spark heat develop within her breast. She slipped unnoticed down the slope, her ghostly figurine drifting within tail-lengths of the eboness. Soft lyricals dripped from her throat, mere whispers to the lady before her. Love will be cruel to who it entices. Love will have its sacrifices.