A/N: I’m sorry this isn’t an update to Bedlam, but this was a completely accidental story. I wrote it in a half hour for no particular reason other than that I was listening to some very good music. Specifically I was listening to Birthday by the Cruxshadows. Awesome song, awesome band. The lyrics don’t really have anything to do with the story, but the beat definitely drove the writing. Enjoy

Ghost Story

The drums pounded, wild and feral. The dancers swirled, lost in the beat. The light of the flames flickered across the assembled; the great bonfire caressed them in its warmth. The violin player’s bow skipped across the strings, the untamed glory of the sound stealing into the dancers’ souls.

She wandered lost in their midst. A spectral figure passing by, quietly bumping shoulders; unnoticed by those who gyrated around her. Her eyes, unfocused and unseeing, looked straight ahead with the gaze of the hopeless.

He stood at the edge of the crowd, unmoving; a ghost in the shadows which bounded their revelry. His eyes surveyed the host, his sharp stare scanning for that one flame in his darkness.

At last the tide of the dancers brought her near him. Brought her within his reach and sight, so that finally his eyes fell upon her. He moved into the press of bodies, with fluid ease, passing amongst them as though insubstantial.

At last his arms came about her. Brought her out of her ethereal trance, so that finally her eyes saw him. She moved closer to him, pressing them together with an unconscious familiarity, a reaction to the solidity of another body.

No words were exchanged. They saw. They felt. They understood.

His fingers brushed her cheek. Her arms twined about his neck. He leaned down. She stood on tiptoe. They kissed. Two figures stood together in the eddy of the whirling dance.

The great fire flared, and in that brief brightness two smiles flashed upon pale faces, before the flickering flames, once more subdued, allowed the shadows to return.

The drums pounded. The dancers spun in primal ecstasy. The violin sang its sweet refrain. The place where they had been stood empty. The dancers moved around it with instinctive steps, daring not to tread on the sacred ground.