Masquerade

4 posts
Random avatar
Gender Female
Points 814
Reviews 4
She looked like an angel; a dazzling beauty fallen from the heavens above. She stood tall and confident – prancing about the cathedral-like hall like a prized show pony - not afraid to be the centre of attention. She oozed charisma, enticing people with her flowing silvery-blonde hair and mischievous smile.

He looked like a wild animal; full of uncertainty and confusion at being trapped in the crowded hall. His eyes darted around constantly, assessing the crowd for any sign of danger. His muscles were tense, ready to take flight at a moment’s notice. He skulked around in the shadows, stealthily moving like a hunter stalking his prey.

She wore a dress of palest blue – the colour of the sky just after sunrise – which flared out at her waist in an exquisite fashion. On her feet was a pair of midnight blue heels spangled with silver diamantes that twinkled like stars in the night sky. A silver star on the end of a thin, delicate chain glistened in the hollow of her neck. Her pale bluish-grey eyes sparkled with life beneath a pastel blue, butterfly-shaped mask, the edges trimmed with deep blue and silver glitter.

He was wearing a hastily thrown-on suit; creased black pants, a crinkled white shirt, a crooked bow-tie and a jacket which stretched a little too tight across his broad, muscled shoulders. The black suit shoes on his feet had been cleaned but not polished, and the back of his shirt stuck out from below his jacket. The untidy mop of brown hair on his head was slightly damp, and his jaw was covered in more than a day’s worth of stubble. His yellow-tinged brown eyes were sharp like a hawk’s behind a simple black mask created from a scrap of fabric.

Countless boys begged her for a dance, but she declined all of them gracefully, leaving them somewhat dejected but still mesmerized by her astonishing beauty and her voice that was sweet and smooth like honey. Instead, she twirled about in the centre of the dance floor, alone.

The lone figure standing hunched in the darkest corner of the hall stood undisturbed, camouflaged in the shadows. Although he was not at all happy to be at the town’s 176th Annual Masquerade Ball, he was content with watching the rest of the people laugh and dance merrily, rather like a Border collie guards a flock of grazing sheep. He had heard rumours; whispers of this town being haunted. One such rumour suggested that an evil being lurked within the walls of the hall, attacking one unfortunate young man each year, on the night of the Masquerade Ball. Although the story had been stretched and twisted over the years, it was originally fashioned as a way to explain the mysterious disappearances of the town’s young men.
He didn’t believe in such nonsense, but curiosity got the better of him, and he had found himself following the trail of people marching like ants toward the hall on a sudden burst of impulse.

She grew impatient; tired of waiting for the only young man who had not yet been inclined to ask her for a dance to approach her. Deliberately, she danced closer to him, trying desperately to make even a second of eye contact to entice him.
Instead, another young man who appeared familiar approached her, his green eyes glazed over and his face plastered with a look that reminded her of a dog drooling over a bone. Frustrated, she shoved him out of her way and made her way over to the boy skulking in the shadowy corner.

He dropped his gaze for a moment to adjust his bow-tie. Barely a second had passed before he was on alert once more, but it was already too late.
A beautiful young woman in a pale blue dress was striding purposefully – yet somehow with a grace that made her appear to be gliding – toward him. His breathing quickened, his brow prickled with beads of sweat, warning him of possible danger. He glanced left and right – both directions were crowded with partygoers. He couldn’t quietly slip past them without causing a disturbance. He was trapped in the corner of the hall, with no chance of escape.

The boy had noticed her approaching, she saw him search desperately for an escape route, only to find that she had him cornered. She smiled to herself; this had worked better than she had planned. The boy stood tall and stared straight at her, warning her with his fiery eyes not to come any closer.
She ignored him, however, and continued to walk towards him, twirling her dress around her legs and fluttering her eyelids as she did. Usually her victims fell under her spell within an instant of spotting her, but this one was a challenge. She smiled again, she loved challenges; they made the game so much more exciting.

Pull yourself together, he thought, trying to get a grasp on the endless stream of thoughts running through his head. What was this girl doing? What would he say to her? How could he escape without being rude? He groaned in frustration; this should have been so simple. He, who had encountered dangers so unimaginable that few people would even dare to think of them, was completely stumped by a simple – but beautiful – girl. By this time she had reached him, and he became lost in her sparkling bluish-grey eyes.
All traces of doubt and confusion were removed when he met her eyes. For the first time in his life, he felt completely and utterly relaxed. No stray thoughts crossed his mind, all worries were erased. It was pure bliss.

Relief surged through her when his hawk-like eyes glazed over. The magic had worked at last.
“Hello,” she said, in a voice that was dripping with the sweetness of honey. She leaned in close to him, so close that her soft pink lips gently brushed against his ear when she spoke. “My name’s Sienna. Would you like to dance with me?”

He was only vaguely aware of what she asked him, but nodded in agreement anyway. A few seconds later – although he couldn’t remember how he had gotten there – he found himself twirling around on the dance floor in the arms of the girl in the blue dress. He remembered her telling him her name, but he couldn’t remember what it was. But it didn’t matter. All he was aware of was the paradise that was contained in his empty mind, luring him into its overwhelming depths.

“Shall we go outside?” Sienna asked in her smooth, magical voice. It was time. He nodded absently, following her out of the grand oak doors into the elaborate gardens lit up with hundreds of tiny fairy lights. Intricately carved statues and fountains spouting crystal clear streams of water were dotted about amongst the sweet-smelling flowers that lined the pebbled path. She found a garden bench tucked away behind a large rhododendron, and sat down with poise, motioning for the ill-fated boy to do the same. She glanced up at the crescent moon, perched above the tallest spire protruding from the hall – which had once served as the town’s cathedral.

He stared absent-mindedly at the millions of twinkling stars above them. They were so pretty. He reached out to touch one, but it was too far out of his reach. Never mind, he thought, instead reaching for a perfect white rose, plucking it carefully from its stem. He brought the delicate flower to his face, and inhaled deeply. It smelled like heaven. He was aware of the girl seated beside him constantly watching him, but she wasn’t important. Nothing was important anymore. All that mattered was that the world was quiet and peaceful.

Sienna pouted in annoyance. The rugged yet handsome country boy she had specifically chosen was not interested in her at all, even under the spell she had woven on him. Instead, he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts – or absence of them. She felt a strong surge of pity when she realized that this boy had probably never even laid eyes on a girl like herself. Most of the young men she enticed into her web were as fickle as the changing winds, scattering their hearts amongst many women. They were keen to add Sienna to their collection, but she was devious, seducing them until she broke their hearts, or ripped them out altogether. But this boy was different; he needed to love another, a special lady whom he would meet someday.

Just this once, she would spare her victim.

Minutes felt like hours and hours felt like days, but he did not want the infinite peacefulness that inundated him to end. Nonetheless, the original cathedral bells tolled midnight, signaling the moment that the people could remove their masks and reveal their true identities. He reached behind his head and mechanically untied the scrap of black fabric, his vision being obscured by the material for a moment. He stuffed the makeshift mask in his pocket and raised his eyes. The girl in the blue dress had vanished, along with the spell that had bound him. Thoughts and emotions flooded back into his mind, overwhelming the emptiness that had consumed him. He felt rather annoyed – but also quite impressed – that he had been outwitted by a simple girl.

He slowly made his way back inside the old cathedral, still pondering how he had let his guard down long enough for the mysterious girl to penetrate it.
An old painting in an ornate golden frame hanging on the wall before him caught his eye, causing him to forget all about the girl in the blue dress. The painting was of a couple dancing at the very first Masquerade Ball nearly two centuries ago – he could tell this by the date hastily scribbled in the bottom right corner of the painting, next to the artist’s signature. The young man in the image seemed to be dazzled by the young woman he was dancing with; he was staring fixedly at her laughing face, his eyes distant and vague.
The young woman was wearing a dress of palest blue, coupled with a matching butterfly-shaped mask that was framed by her flowing silvery-blonde hair.
A sudden surge of jealously rushed through him; a strange emotion which he had never before experienced. He imagined that he was the man in the image, whirling the hours away in the arms of the girl in the blue dress.




User avatar
Gender Female
Points 2556
Reviews 45
Hi! First off, you write description beautifully. This had an easy flow. I like the contrasting paragraphs in the beginning in particular.
Okay, you might not need this warning, but (assuming this is a chapter story) it would be best to show some of Sienna's flaws besides the obvious parts of her putting men under spells. I understand that it wouldn't be prominent in this part (again assuming that this is a chapter story, you might want to mention that somewhere) because of the situation. As I've said, I don't know very much about her at the time, so you might not have needed that advice.
I find Sienna's motives and powers intriguing, as well as the identity of the boy. As I've said, very well written and interesting, I'm looking forward to more. Thanks for writing and sharing! :D
-- CC




Random avatar
Gender Female
Points 814
Reviews 4
Thanks Jelly, I'm glad you liked it :)
I'm not quite sure if I'm going to continue this story, since I am working on another novel at the moment, but I will certainly take your advice into account if I do decide to take it further.
"Authors are people who never grow out of having imaginary friends"




User avatar
Gender Female
Points 17359
Reviews 253
Hey Jaymee!

I agree with Jelly. You do write description so beautifully, and it did flow so well. Very waltzy. The tone and the pacing was as enchanting as the girl, and so it all worked together so... graciously.

Also as Jelly said, the alternating paragraphs at the beginning were gorgeously done. I disagree, though, about adding the flaws. While when I first started reading, I was annoyed by the descriptions of Sienna (when one writes and reviews fantasy, one learns to be prepared when exceptionally beautiful females enter the page), but as time went on and more of her beauty came through in the tone and the pace, and it became clear that she wasn't quite human, I was won over.

I also think you should leave this as a short story. It's beautiful as is, and I don't want the plot to get any more complicated. I like wondering who she is and who he is and what they're doing. And I don't want to know the answers, either. So, well done, well done.

All that said, there were some parts that could use work.

The lone figure standing hunched in the darkest corner of the hall stood undisturbed, camouflaged in the shadows. Although he was not at all happy to be at the town’s 176th Annual Masquerade Ball, he was content with watching the rest of the people laugh and dance merrily, rather like a Border collie guards a flock of grazing sheep. He had heard rumours; whispers of this town being haunted. One such rumour suggested that an evil being lurked within the walls of the hall, attacking one unfortunate young man each year, on the night of the Masquerade Ball. Although the story had been stretched and twisted over the years, it was originally fashioned as a way to explain the mysterious disappearances of the town’s young men.

He didn’t believe in such nonsense, but curiosity got the better of him, and he had found himself following the trail of people marching like ants toward the hall on a sudden burst of impulse.


This was the first time the alternation broke, and I was unhappy with the breaking of it. Also, in the second sentence, it goes into this exposition that doesn't seem entirely necessary, all things considered. The simile comparison to the border collie, while accurate for what you mean (I have a border collie, I know), kind of broke the tone there for a second.

And this is definitely nitpicky, but

An old painting in an ornate golden frame hanging on the wall before him caught his eye, causing him to forget all about the girl in the blue dress. The painting was of a couple dancing at the very first Masquerade Ball nearly two centuries ago – he could tell this by the date hastily scribbled in the bottom right corner of the painting, next to the artist’s signature. The young man in the image seemed to be dazzled by the young woman he was dancing with; he was staring fixedly at her laughing face, his eyes distant and vague.
The young woman was wearing a dress of palest blue, coupled with a matching butterfly-shaped mask that was framed by her flowing silvery-blonde hair.


I don't think you need to break that into two paragraphs. You already used the one hanging line, and so this was overly dramatic, especially when the reader already knows she's the haunt of the place.

I think that's all I have. What the story mainly needs is polish. Go through, make sure everything is as you want it to be. Read it aloud. Remember what you're writing it for, etc. And then you'll be golden.

Let me know if you have any questions,

Rach
I don't fangirl. I fandragon.

Have you thanked a teacher lately? You should. Their bladder control alone is legend.



Kindness is the language the deaf can hear and the blind can see.
— Mark Twain