I never bothered looking back.

The words that Florica had said danced in my brain chaotically as I sped down the dirt road towards my cabin. The cadence of each syllable kept in time with my breathing as I reached for the radio. I needed to drown it out, to chase it away like a bad dream. I searched the stations for a musical distraction of any kind but it seemed each song just fueled the shuffling of the words in my brain. I felt like screaming or slamming my own head against the driver's side window. I was angry. I had allowed myself to be manipulated and in more ways than one. Not just because some stupid charlatan had gotten the best of me but because she had done it in such a blatantly disrespectful manner.

The implied notion that I would take advantage of Tina. I found her endearing but we had just met. Hell, I had just learned her fucking last name incidentally. Granted, she had shared a great deal about herself during the parade. She had been orphaned due to a fire in her parents home which had killed them both when she was fourteen. It had been declared an act of arson but no suspects were ever prosecuted. After that she had stayed with the gypsy woman. It seemed Florica had been a friend of the family for years and she feared the drunken streets of the city too influential on an impressionable and grieving mind. She seemed mostly well-adjusted though a bit childishly naive and obsessive. There had been a certain ease in my heart walking the streets with her instead of the expected anxieties I had developed recently. I believed it was admirable that the woman had raised her to be as charming considering her tragedy.

Admirable to a fault. Her all-knowing grin of decayed teeth and bulging eye seemed to taunt me in the moment I had slung the bottle towards her face. She seemed to have sensed something troubling, but using Megan's memory as a bargaining chip had gutted me. Her point may have meant well but it had been too personal. When she had spoken her name, my heart had throttled inside my chest and instantly raised my hand to throw.

I pulled slowly into the driveway and fumbled for my keys as I staggered towards the steps. I had been too distracted lately and my obligations were gnawing at me like rats in a Lovecraft story, blurring my anger slowly into guilt.

(the rats, the rats in the walls)

I stood there on the porch and slumped into the seat of the chair to the left of the door, defeated. I rocked my head in my hands a few moments before staring towards the darkening distance. I scanned the moonlit sky and treeline, looking for some solace in the midnight air. I looked past the weeds and overgrown grass before following the makeshift path leading to the pond into the disappearing cover of trees. It seemed almost cave-like for a moment, the way the low branches curved downward over the path before vanishing and for a moment I imagined Lily slowly walking down the path. I thought of the way her gown would slither behind her in a weightless fashion as she gave a tempting look over her shoulder and smiled at me. The thin strap of the dress would fall to one shoulder, getting caught on the curve of her full breast before falling completely down her pale back in painstaking fashion. Her legs would never lose stride, simply pressing on down the shadowed path, the dress a crumpled heap threatening to blow away in the slight October breeze.

That image was so vivid that I found myself standing abruptly and making my way toward the pond with foggy determination. I had no idea where she had ran off to and felt an urge to reassure her, especially if that had been her in the crowded streets earlier. The idea that she was a stranger to me, an anomaly that deserved explanation or understanding, seemed a distancing concern. Powerful moments sometimes defy logic and the perpetual allure of Lily herself defied just the same.

My pace quickened as the hint of dead flowers whispered about me and beckoned. She beckoned. Despite the warnings of Florica or perhaps, in spite of, I eagerly followed. I turned the final curve leading to the edge of the pond and sighed. Part of me had hoped to spy on her bathing, enjoying the cool water from a distance. Perhaps I would've even joined her and relieved some of the nagging guilt that crept in as I began to sober somewhat.

The only thing that greeted my eyes was the murky waters and her enchanting scent. I could tell she had been here earlier. The shallow footprints along the edge of the damp incline suggested so, along with the white lilies dancing and circling the surface in a slightly hypnotizing fashion. I recalled the way her hair had whipped about ferociously while above me as she weaved her sensual spell and the brittle petals crumbling when I grabbed handfuls of it, forcing her lips unto mine.

(some flowers smell sweeter when they are nearer)

Her soft laughter I could hear in the distance, chiding me it seemed. I froze in place, struck with the odd combination of lust and dread. I shoved my hands in my pockets for warmth as the cool breeze intensified and rattled the dead leaves from the branches looming overhead. I hurried diligently back towards the cabin as the red and brown leaves crunched under my feet. In the clearing I could see the door to the cabin had been opened. The wooden door began swinging slightly on its hinges due to the wind and her petaled perfume hung in the air, acrid and sweet in equal parts.

The door swung shut with the definitive clarity of a gunshot, my ears nearly ringing as I instinctively held my hands to them. Thunder rumbled delicately to the east and the foggy sky lit up twice before the first heavy raindrop. I gathered my composure as the second and third splashed my brow and nose before the downpour began. Soaked, my thin hair clinging to my neck and cheek, I ran forward up the steps, trampling another of her flowers under my foot as I did.

I opened the door as the lightning crashed behind me, illuminating the darkened front room for an agonizingly long moment. Candles were lit in every corner of the room casting writhing shadows along the walls. A bottle of liquor sat firmly in place beside my faithful typewriter. Dry clothes had been placed on the arm of the couch along with an unopened pack of cigarettes. I stared in disbelief a moment before staggering backwards against the door.

Lily lounged seductively on the couch, her dress barely covering her naked form. She reached out her hand to me. The flowers in her hair fell as she moved and landed teasingly over her taut nipples straining against the silk of her gown. As she dropped her other arm the dress fell into her lap and she let out a laugh as it did. She stretched her legs a bit, opening them slightly before letting the garment fall to floor. She stood in front of me, her figure full and desirable, just inches from me. I could feel her warmth inviting me forward and she closed the distance gracefully. Her eyebrows arced in a teasing fashion as her lips parted slowly to speak.

"Let's forget silly blonde girls and old women a moment, lover. You have more pressing matters at the moment. I crave you." She glanced downward below my waist and back up at me. Her grin was bestial and worrying as well as arousing. "As I see clearly, you crave as well. Love me." Her hands groped and pushed me against the door as the candles danced maniacally in her eyes.

Weakly, I uttered the appropriate answer in her ear as her teeth sank into my flesh and her fingers began clawing at me in the same maddening way as before. "Yes..."

Tap. Tap. THWACK. Her nails pressed once again into my chest, my back arching and heart straining as if it were a caged animal seeking freedom and being denied. The blood poured slowly from the wound and she pressed harder. She smeared the stickiness across her face, tasting it lovingly as she moved against me. She was a phantom in need of release and greedily, I obliged.

( some smell better when they are dead )

"Mine," she sighed and wept, as if challenging the very storm outside or some unseen entity. "Mine!"

The heavens fell heavy as the thunder roared into the night in rhythm with our bodies, a bloody obligation ensnared in the scent of decaying lilies and wanton desire. We slept as the storm raged outside and into the morning.