Beautiful

There is something intrinsically beautiful about the pallid woman. Pallidity is meant to suggest a weakness, yet somehow the pale flat limbs and body radiate strength instead. Maybe it is the sinew, or the veins that can be seen beneath that watery surface. It is impossible to believe that a network that advertises itself for inspection could be in any way faulty. She is broad, yet slender, as if her body has been jointed together like a machine. Her face seems as if it is hewn rather than finely cut, yet somehow it suits her. Its chalky surface and rouged lips slowly rotate to circumspeculate upon the world she reigns over.

This world is a world that she is both Queen and terror of. It is a parallel, you see, I am telling a fairytale. It was decided long ago that worlds should be compartmentalized, and as such, terrors cannot cross between them. Better the devil you know. This world, Edisreal, is alone. It must mimic its ruler. It is flat, and pale, reflective of the various suns and moons that orbit it and balanced in between a web of huge trees, huge ones. The citizens of this planet wait each month for the queen to change, for one night each month when she becomes different and they all must mimic her for fear of being attacked by her. She is so strong, and floats over the city covering it with her cape of darkness. The Queen ages. She becomes ghoulish. The legend goes that any person unchanged on that night must be consumed by her, in order that she can change back to her usual state, though there are those who say they see the ghoul on the other side even when she is her pallid self.

So the town celebrates this monthly purge. A carnival, that they almost enjoy, despite the thieving and murdering that goes on the rest of the time. A more honest time, because when they are spirits they are one, and there is no spirit for or against his other spirit. Under her cloak they form one conglomerate mass, protected in anonymity. But she cannot survive so forever, and if she senses feeling under her, in her world she must consume the perpetrator in order to sustain the delicate balance. Noone can feel in that time threshold. They are reduced to pulsating masses. And she is forgiven. And each month, it happens again.