The mirror seemed to gasp as she stood in front of it,
A presence longingly gazed into her dark brown eyes,
Admired her almost perfect lips,
It was as if it embraced her reflection in itself,
Something ran fingers through her soft hair,
Placed a kiss upon her lips a thousand times,
She felt a bite to her slender neck,
A voice from the mirror softly calling her name,
Hands emerge and grip her tightly,
Pulling her willing body through the glass to a place beyond,
The mirror has claimed a new succubus,
In the name of its master, the Devil himself.
Copyright: authorchrisbrown
