Curse of the leafte

"leafte - (n.) Term for the last remaining leaf on a tree, after all the other leaves have turned color and fallen off."

Fawn was waiting. Waiting for the leafte. Well, truthfully, dreading it. She sat under the tree and watched as leaves shades of orange, brown and red swirled about her. It all started right here, she mused, in this very spot. She extended her lean body and adjusted herself for comfort around the roots of the great tree. Her brown hair streaked with gold fell about in layers to her chest. She idley twirled of lock of hair in her fingers as she remebered that day.

She stood up, seeing that the tree was almost comletely free of its leaves. She reached her hand out and touched the initals carved into the side of the great tree. Delicately, she traced the letters, and tears began to stream steadily down her face. Vision now blurred she stopped tracing. "Love, it is for idiots!" she screamed. And slammed her fist into the initails.

As she did so the tree shook, and she saw with dread that last leaf began to fall. It went down slowly, as if time itself was tanting her. falling in the winds gentle embrace, carefully avoiding gravity... slowly... slowly... and there. It was over.

A portal began to form and he came for her. Him in his long, black robes, his lusty, red eyes, and thin, curling lips that twisted into what he would probably call a smile. "Please, don't take me! I was a fool! Please, have mercy!"she flung herself at his feet sobbing.Begging. Two things love got her into.

He cackled at the very idea, "I know you are a fool, selling your soul to me for your lover's life. And what did he do? He left you. he broke your heart."

He let her squirm, knowing that his words would pierce her over and over like daggers. When his pleasure was over he beckoned her to stand.

"Come, I have tasks for you to perform," he paused and snarled,"servant..."