Part 3 OF 3 Pulp story

READ PART ONE AND PART TWO TO GET THE WHOLE STORY!!
enjoy


Returned to the house (no never really let it leave my mind, the pond and that dress), the closet door was still open but this time I could hold the dress to my chest and gaze back at the mirror and see the figure within it, braced against me. Her skin was white as the snow on the ground and her eyes black as the pond that urged me so, to be here, with her, those sequins between thumb and finger.

I turned in the report, closed it, death by natural causes, finished by wolves, wild animals, destroyed the evidence about human teeth.

Im back with her and the dress, I held the dress to my chest and felt her rest her lips against my neck and cheek. I grow tired and want to stay with her, with that dress, that pond.

Beside the pond, the dress is empty and limp on the ground, snowflakes melting on its flickering scales, and I look into the pond. The fish swirl as always and look up at me, dead and cold, there is one more this time, and the red fish makes her move, she moves up from the middle and gazes up at me, her black eyes.
Feinting, I hit the snow, and see her gaze, the red scales on her white skin, the black pools that she looks back at me.
My stomach lurches and im cold, but the snow around me melts in a pool of red.

She finishes eating, slithers back,
The process of delving into the black abyss is to me the keenest form of fascination.


lemme know what we all think!

thks for reading