Lunacy

She stands tall and majestic at the doors, the sunlight streaming in behind her silhouettes her. Her red eyes glimmering, white skin shimmering with the Arcanum borne from her luscious lips; her whispers fluid and velvet like her dress. With a poisonous apple placed in her cupped hands instead of the colourful, fragrant bouquet, she slowly glides with inhuman grace across the carpet of the abandoned church. Her misty veil obscures her vile beauty; not to be seen until the minister declares otherwise. Oblivious to the darkness and cobwebs hanging, she steps onto the altar and turns to the front. The clock tower strikes midnight. In the company of the watching spiders, and with the tiniest of anticipating smiles, she waits for him to arrive.