Drinking Mercury

The moon. Eyes slowly opened to the sight of a silver disk suspended in the velvet sky. Wisps of clouds like envious fingers shrouded the sphere, but it was there. He stood, barefeet padding on the cold wooden floor with little noise. The window was open, and cold air cooled his sweat-drenched body. Fingers that were well calloused leaned on the old wood, his face turned to the moon.
Tonight, he dreamt of angels, they had danced in the Heavens. So why was he awakened? There was something tragical and at the same time very much joyful in the air. A sweet and bitter that assulted the senses. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the acidic green numbers on the clock admonish him. Three thirty-two a.m As he made to turn from the window, a bright peal of laughter drifted on the night air. He looked out the window again, and saw the most peculilar of things.
Bathed in moonlight, his yard was a silver playground. The flowers and plants arched upward, like taught bows, or people bowing. The grass seemed to be a pale iradescent metallic color and swayed to a breeze he could not feel on the second floor. But what caught his eye was the Dancer. Barefeet, that were fragile enough to have been spun of glass, slid across his lawn. The grass sprung back up after she had moved, as if she had never been there. His gaze was transfixed by her, he followed her movement to the farthest corner of the yard.
Elegant icicle like fingers beckoned from her far away position. It was then that he noticed her hair and skin were the lightest of shades, like ivory. Even her hair was white, purer then snow, but also colder. Now he could feel the breeze that had swept across the yard, it was an arctic chill. A smile, meant for him alone shimmered from that far away corner. And then she was gone, just like fog whent he sun hits.

The day had passed to slowly for Kevryn, and he ached for nightfall. The scene from last night had haunted him through the summer day. Even with temperatures hitting the impossiable highes of over a hundred, he was still chilled to the bone. He spent the morning pacing his room, and kept glancing back to the window with an uneasy impatience.
The night had fallen with unusual slowlness, the sun refusing to drop below the horizon at its normal time. Kevryn sat on his bed, wearing his jeans and shirt from earlier that day, brown eyes fixated on the window. It was well past midnight before he saw it. The moon, the silvery light filtered through thin clouds. He bolted to the window, bracing himself and glancing around. The girl from before was walking casually through his garden.
"Wait! Please! Wait!" he whispered intensely under his breath and dashed from his room. The stairs to the kitchen were long and winding and for the first time he wished he had a one-story house. The linolium and warm and inviting, and the kitchen smelled of old spices, but that was lost on him as he futiley tried the backdoor. It was locked. But that was impossiable his mind screamed as his fingers clumsily tried to force the lock to turn. The deadbolt remained in its upright position. He stared at it, and suddenly, the kitchen was no longer inviting.
He saw her pass by the window and pressed his hands against the glass. It was frozen, his fingers left round holes in the frost. That was also impossiable, it was July. He saw her pale face again, and it was not smiling, but strangely haunted. She too placed her hands on the glass. It was like looking through ice at someone below water, her hair waving behind her in the arctic wind. The arctic wind in Leawood, Kansas.
"I miss you," Her words were like chunks of frozen water in his stomach. He yanked his hands away from the window. Was he going crazy? This... this girl... did he know her? He frantically searched his memory for her face and came up empty handed. Perhaps the glass had distorted the sound. Yes, that was it. He couldn't have heard clearly. But when he looked back, she had gone again, leaving only the frozen handprint that melted quickly in the night's heat.

Something was wrong. Kevryn couldn't pinpoint what, but something was terribly wrong. His garden was dead. Each plant was brittle and broken, but it wasn't from lack of water. It was almost as if they had been put through a cold winter. He shivered, despite the hot sun and humidity. He shuffled back inside, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his winter jacket. His neighbors had given him odd glances, afterall, who wore their winter jacket in the summer? But he was just too damn cold.
Fingers stiffly pushed the button for his computer. The familiar famous painting that was his background slid into focus. It was called 'Lady in the Moonlight', but it was so famous because the woman was absent in the picture. He ignored it and opened his internet. It didn't open, instead he found his gaze directed to a small silver figure in the bottom corner of his background. When he leaned in closer the screen flickered black and random letters and numbers scrolled by. Kevryn frantically pushed ctrl, alt, delete, and all he got was "LAMIA". When he shook his head to clear it, his internet window was up and open to a search.
"Was I... dreaming?" He reached for the keyboard, and was going to type in 'frostbite', for his plants, but instead 'lamia' came up. This is too weird... The search came up with hundreds of websites, but one clearly stated 'Lamia, the woman of the night,'. He clicked on that one. A picture was the first thing to appear. It was a mirror image of the woman from last night. Then silver words on a black background. He read them aloud.
"Lamia was one of the first conquests of Zeus, but she was cursed with a woman's head, snake's body, cloven hooves and lion's tail by Zeus' jealous wife, Hera. Hera also killed Lamia's children as an ultimate revenge. Lamia then went about killing children as her own revenge. She eventually had other children, known as lamiae. In most accounts, the lamaiae are beautiful woman, though sometimes they are depicted as hideous monsters like their mother. The one thing that both accounts have in common is that they both claim that the lamiae drink blood, much like today's modern vampires..." His voice trailed off. Ridiculous. Modern vampires indeed. There were some words in bold at the bottom of the page, and he scrolled down and began to read again.
"Stheno and Euryale were the two immortal gorgons, who turned their victims to stone...Banshee....!? Banshee?" He mused, and paused. Something about this whole thing reeked of stupidity, but also of danger. A feeling in his heart told him he didn't want to read on. All of these clues pointed to his insanity... or something that was far beyond his control. He looked at the picture on the website, it definately was the woman before. Taking a breath he plowed on.
"Banshee, in Irish legend the banshee is a female spirit that voices her strange wail when a death is imminent..." he stared at the screen. Tonight, tonight I find out the truth his mind told him. But he was afraid. Deep down his morbid curiosity was fatal, and he knew it. The cold around him did nothing to help. He shut down the computer, but didn't move from in front of it. In the dark screen he saw himself, a mere shadow of a person, wasting away. death... I'm going to die.......... Then he laughed, pushing those thoughts away.
"I'm going crazy. That's it, I've finally snapped!" And he went to bed, but the haunting cold did not leave him.

When he awoke, he was sure that it had all been a dream, or insanity. For the pale moon that usually brought on the madness was absent. Kevryn shook his head and stood, feet moving across the cool wooden floor at an even pace. The window was closed tonight, and he moved the curtains and opened the heavy window. The glass slid away easily, when opened the windo was larger and taller then he was. Often, when he was younger he had been afraid of falling out.
"Just a dream," he inhaled the air, eyes closing...only to open them to a silver moon that hung, suspended in the dark velvet. He gasped, and tried to back away from the window, only to find he could not. Icy cold fingers traced his spine and up to his neck. Lips that were devoid of warmth and humanity brushed against his cheek.
"I've come for you..." And a strange wail floated into the night. Kevryn gasped, his fingers sliding on the smooth wood as he tumbled out of the window. As he fell, time seemed to slow, it was like falling through molasses. He saw her, the beautiful pale woman in the moonlight. He tasted her kiss, it was like drinking mercury, a toxic silver death. He fell, the strange, somehow calming cry of the banshee in his ears; he fell, under the silver moon that drank mercury.