Icy wanted a story about herself so I gave her one. Only she's not a witch here. She's more. One-shot. Dark.

In my perception, I would appear as a aleatório girl wandering through the streets and casually window-shopping. But that was not what I was really doing. I wore dull, black and gray clothes. They spoke of lack and it described me. I took things from people and left them with nothing.

My hair, a freakishly light blonde that might have passed for white, would have caused people to think that I was an old lady. Except for when they saw my face, of course. It might have been my eyes that had scared them away. Not the eye color, but the look I gave them.

No one bothered to talk to me, my smiling sinister face sending them retreating. To me, it felt satisfactory and I delighted in how their faces would fill with fear. Yes, my eyes were evil. Yes, they spoke of things I probably couldn't say out loud. Mostly, it told them to stay away. No one here wanted me close to them. They knew who I was. They shivered as I walked closer to them and tried desperately to get away. Some knew I was among them, most didn't.

One person drew me to him. Grinning to myself, I levitated and flew through the air, people stiffening as they noted me pass them. I loved it all.

Passing houses, I found the one which called me. First, I peeked through the window and saw two people. A middle-aged man was sitting on the cama and lying down on it was his wife. She was sick. Not too sick, but sick enough for me. It didn't matter anyway. She meant nothing to me. So I entered the house.

I could hear their conversation.

"You have to be strong for me, sweetheart," the woman was saying, her voice quivering and raspy.

The man was shaking his head, holding on to her hands. He wasn't ready to let her go. I smirked. This was my favorito part. She had a few mais moments and then she would be mine.

"Darling, I don't have mais time," she cried, tears falling down her face. "Take care of the girls. You can do it."

"Not without you," he choked out. "I'm weak without you. Don't leave me yet."

"I amor you," she said, tightening her hold on his palm, "so much. Tell our girls I amor them. My amor for you and them will be for eternity."

Pity she would not live for eternity. Such a sweet lady going to eternal sleep. This was my climax, my favorito moment.

"I amor you," he told her, "but I'm not ready. I'm not ready."

I am.

I didn't wait for her response. Lunging forward, I leaned into her and she felt me, knew I was there. Her bottom lip trembled and I smiled. She saw it and her mouth fell open. I stroked her forehead and my mouth went closer to hers.

I captured her lips in mine and swallowed the life out of her. She gasped, struggling, and I faintly felt the man trying to help her. He was too late, however.

Then she looked at me.

"It's okay," I said. "You're seguro now."

Her countenance changed. She stopped fighting and peace flooded her face. Her husband was calling for her, but she would not answer him. It was then he knew that she was gone. She had left him with her children and had gone.

I smiled pityingly at him and he knew I was in the room.

"You," he spat, looking directly at me. "You did this to her."

"What can I say?" I replied, not missing a beat. "I am the angel of Death, after all."

Ah, the darkness. Oops, this was a bad ending, wasn't it? I should have shown the lady going to heaven... or hell. But I don't know how she behaved so let's leave it at that.