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I know you. Or at least, I used to. I can see you. Out there, on the floor. You look happy. In fact, you look positively ecstatic. And you're free.
You're still as light on your feet as you used to be. I can see that. I can see the way you spin and twist. And the way that, when he spins you, it's effortless. I hate him.
I don't know him of course. Not the way I know you. Knew you rather. But he's got you. And he's dancing with you. And I can see in his eyes that he's fallen for you. And I hate him.
You of course don't notice. You don't notice that he's fallen for you, or that I hate him. You are too caught up in the moment. I see you laugh. The sound of it brings back memories. And I see him grin. The song ends and he's reluctant to let you go, but you extract yourself easily and go over to join your friends. They all turn to smile at you and cast appreciative eyes over your dance partner. You simply laugh again and wave away their speculation. I've seen you do that as well.
I continue to watch as you say something and go over to the bar. Two of your friends go out to dance and the other three eye up the lad standing near by. You are still at the bar. I decide to join you.
Weaving through the crowds is effortless, the people part obediently. Some turn round to glare angrily over their shoulder as I pass, but I ignore them.
I reach you not long afterwards and step up behind you.
You're ordering drinks and chattering away good naturedly to the barman.
I tap your shoulder and you turn.
When you see me your eyes widen and your colour drains. You are terrified and I know. I know what I look like. I can hear your heart pounding-faster, faster, faster. And I know. You thought I didn't. You thought you kept it a secret. But I worked it out. That's why I'm here now. That's why you can see me. Me with my ruined face and my broken body.
And my knowledge will be the death of you.
Your heart is still pounding. You are gasping for breath and the barman-your new friend-is shouting for help. Your friends are rushing towards you and your dance partner. But they will not reach you in time. You are mine.
You collapse.
All around us, people are rushing about, screaming, shouting...chaos is erupting. I look at you, lying on the floor and then up as I hear a gasp.
You are standing next to me. You are stunned.
"What...?" you start, but I cut you off, grinning horribly.
"Welcome my dear," I leer, "Welcome... to Death."
Finally, at long last, you are mine.