| The following evening, at the pre-appointed hour, Faustine met up with Ms. Belladonna, who led her to a secluded area of the woods where the ground was damp and sunlight scarce. There, in the middle of nowhere, was a curious little cottage, which was surrounded by a singular looking plant with puce colored flowers and dark purple berries, which brought to mind the purpure of the lady's dress. As they entered the house, the girl noticed an inanimate rabbit, by said plant, with purple stains on its paws and mouth. Turning to her hostess, she asked what was wrong with the creature. "The little minx has no doubt eaten its fill of my berries, overtaxing its digestion, and therefore must sleep it off. Naughty cotton-tail!" she said in a huff, as she flounced past the threshold of the cottage. Eyeing the creature still, as she followed, Faustine just could not detect any sign of breathing from the little lagomorph. When inside, she was surprised to see that there was no kitchen. Nor was there any indication of any kind of comestibles ever having contaminated the place. There was no bed either, only a large armoire, a vanity table, surmounted by a rather large and ornate mirror, and two chairs--all made from ebony wood. She was seated in one of the chairs, which was accented by purple velvet cushions. "Omigawd," thought Faustine, "Mircalla and the others would positively die for a chance to sit on a chair like this!" "So it was, that then and there, Faustine was turned into a Gothic princess. She was shown how to henna her hair that copper color she'd been trying to master all summer long. She was shown how to blanch her skin, as well as apply the more somber hued cosmetics. She was also given free rein to try on any of the dresses in Ms. Belladonna's wardrobe, and, when she got up the nerve, she even dared to try some of the leather accessories the lady had fitted especially for her little dress-up doll. She didn't have any PVC wear though, the lady did not approve of it. "I never don it, and neither should you; it's not natural!" she opined. Otherwise, Faustine felt she was looking great, and feeling great too. As she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she was speechless. She had always been a pretty girl, but now she was a goddess! The gentlemen callers would be tripping over themselves to ask her out, as well as some of the more interesting girls, and best of all--she would make Gothilocks look like a carnival-grounds-haunted-house reject." "For the finishing touch," cooed the lady, "a few drops of my special ointment in your eyes, to enhance their natural brilliance, and you can be on your way." Leading Faustine back to her chair, and leaning her head back, she squeezed the grip of a small dropper into the young girl's eyes, then kissed her on the forehead as she closed her lids to ensure the capture of every drop. As she stepped back over the threshold to leave, Faustine was startled to see what appeared to be a blackamoor, dressed in pale green trousers, and a gauze shirt of purplish brown, which was not unlike the color of the flowers of the plant growing alongside the dwelling. His pronounced collar furthured this likeness, causing his head to bring to mind the fruit of the plant. He struck an imposing figure, standing by the hedge, glowering, with a pair of clippers in his left hand. Gasping, Faustine stepped back and put up her hands to protect her pretty little face. Then she heard the derisive laugh of Atropa Belladonna, mocking her fear, as she approached from inside the cottage. "Funny little moppet, do not be afraid, that is only my friend, Banewort, come to help me tend my herbs. He's a charming old devil, once you get to know him, and he is so devoted to those plants. You know, he can only be persuaded to leave them for one night a year, just before May Day." "A sort of religious observance, you understand. It just wouldn't do for me to miss it." Added the fellow, whom upon closer inspection, she realized did not have Negroid features despite the almost charcoal swarthiness of his complexion. In fact, he did not seem to belong to any particular race she had ever seen before. He was humanoid, in form, but seemed in essence to have more in common with the animal kingdom. There was definitely something feral in his countenance, which gave an unsettling aspect to his smile, and made him all the more frightening when he scowled. Faustine stared for a moment, as Banewort's smile grew into a leer, goading her to blurt out, "I must go home now." and she did. |