For the Dreamscape contest! I tried to do one of the winds, but the story was too boring. I really did try to stay away from Wren. I really did.
Used the January 15th event for the basis of the story! http://www.polyvore.com/january_15/set?id=26597343
Everyone thinks they’re so clever.
Men from out of town come into the Crystal City everyday looking for a good time. They hang around the squares and alleys near pubs and taverns, on the look out for a bit of skirt. Sometimes they pick the easiest piece they can find, some have a harder time but eventually make their conquest.
Some of them end up dead.
Nothing like a small, frizzed-hair girl selling apples to set your loins ablaze. Her wide-eyed stare singles her out as an easy mark. Swagger on over to the apple girl and she smiles sweetly at you as she offers you an apple. Make a few innuendos that she appears to not understand. You don’t notice as the people who were in the square have suddenly disappeared. It’s just you and the apple girl, who looks riper for the picking with every passing moment. She’s just a girl and you have urges. Bend down to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear and whisper what you want. You can feel her tremble as your tongue flickers up her lobe.
Little do you know she’s not trembling in fear of your manhood.
Still clutching her apple basket, you drag her into the nearest alley, finding a pile of conveniently placed garbage bags under a stone stairwell. Hungrily, you push your tongue into her mouth and wish to press her body close to yours, but that damn basket is in the way. So you shove her down into the garbage bags, apples spilling everywhere. She looks terrified, and you’re enjoying this all the more. Amid the offending scents of detritus and decay of everyday life, you begin unbuttoning her vest, wanting dearly just to rip it off her pale, shaking body. Before you go any further, she stops you with a hand on your wrist and a grip stronger than expected; it catches your attention. She smiles coyly at you and produces an apple from her cape. Holding it tantalizingly before your very eyes, you realize she isn’t as naïve as you first thought. A temptress, she offers the forbidden fruit to you. Maybe because she’s apple crazy, or because she won’t let you go any further before you take a bite of the plump red fruit, you swipe it greedily from her long fingers and sink your teeth into it.
It’s the most delicious thing you’ve tasted in your life.
You devour more and more of the fruit, as she watches, smiling to herself, propped up on her elbows amongst the garbage bags. You don’t notice as your tongue turns numb, how the most divine apple you’ve very tasted is slowly becoming lodged in your throat. And that peculiar dripping and cooling sensation that sweeps over your body. But then you start choking. Dropping the apple, your hands fly to your neck, your eyes bulge. And she just sits there, watching. It becomes loosened and falls away. You stop panicking and grow angry with the apple girl because she didn’t try to help save you. You want to slap her, but your arm feels like a lead weight and you drop on your face onto the hard stone ground.
Then you die, and it’s her favourite part, watching as you convulse on the ground, pure white foam frothing from your mouth.
Today you picked the wrong apple. You think you know everything, but here, this is my world. It’s all a façade, innocent on the outside, rotten on the in. Try to eat it, and you die.