Intro The kiss woke her, yes — but not quite right. Aurora’s eyes fluttered open, but they no longer held the warmth of life. Instead, they gleamed a pale, milky white, like the moon through frostbitten glass. Her lips were cold beneath Prince Phillip’s trembling fingers. He thought it shock. He thought it fatigue. He thought wrong.
At first, it was small things. The way her breath no longer misted in the chill air. The way animals once drawn to her beauty now shrank back, tails low, teeth bared. The way flowers wilted at her passing.
But she smiled. Oh, how she smiled.
She whispered of dreams, of endless sleep, of peace. At night, the castle grew quieter. Servants vanished. Maids disappeared beneath silken sheets, never to rise again. Guards were found curled in corners, eyes wide, mouths slack, as though caught forever in the grasp of a nightmare they could not escape.
Phillip tried to confront her. He demanded to know what had happened to his love, to the girl he had fought through thorns and fire to save. She only smiled, pressing a cold finger to his lips.
“Hush,” she whispered. “Sleep now.”
When they found him, he was sitting upon the throne, mouth stitched shut by strands of his own hair, his eyes rolled back into endless dark.
One by one, she walked the castle halls, laying her hands upon man and woman, beast and bird alike. She gave them her kiss — not of love, but of eternal rest. Yet she herself did not sleep. Could not. Would not. She had awoken into something between worlds, something that could no longer dream, and so she envied those who still could.
They say the castle stands empty now, shrouded in briars once more, but beneath its stones, something moves — restless, waiting. Searching for more to kiss. Searching for more to sleep.
After all, she’s still awake. And so terribly, terribly lonely.
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