The Woman In Black Novels & Stories

The neighborhood lay in ruins, with rubble and dust drifting in the air. I furrowed my brows, my OCD pushing me to walk away. Just then, a hunched, filthy woman came in my way. She was wrapped in a filthy down jacket, its original color long buried beneath layers of grime. She clutched a handful of empty plastic bottles, her eyes vacant and glassy. “M-Ms. Bray?” She spoke, her voice raspy and scratchy. I stopped in my tracks and looked at her from a distance. It took a while for me to scan her bloated and wrinkly face before I recognized her to be the once arrogant Little Miss Sunshine.

Her bedroom was exactly how she had wanted it to be, fit for a queen that she considered herself as, it's floor was of bamboo material and looked beautiful, the walls were painted white and a dinning area by the side, the bed was a queen sized and the headboard was designed with real gold. She wore a black straight skirt and then a deep neck beige colored blouse, before wearing a black and grey stripped kimono. Her black veil was tied as a turban on her head, she sat on the bed before wearing her stilettos on her feet. She went down the stairs and sat on the table waiting for her food. And as soon as she sat down, her food was served. Her chef was one of the best in the country. She quietly

she menacingly said and crumpled her hand towards their direction as if it was them she was crushing in her hand. “What did you do?” Yahya asked the woman. Monma turned to her, fake surprise shown on her face. “You’re there! I thought it was dust,” she said and she maniacally laugh. “This--!” Yahya restrained herself but the corner of her lips rose in annoyance. “I’m going to tell you anyway,” the woman said, “It’s not only you who brought companions after all. From the trees in the forest, a woman wearing white clothes went out. “She’s Black, and she brings the night, she’s a rare aberrant! So nice right? Her name even fits her well,” Monma excitedly stated.

She’d rolled, reached, grabbed Bella by the hair, and jerked her up and away. And then the air changed, the taste of it going iron-rich—outside the shattered glass, the world had gone dark as ink. A white blaze struck the stone floor. Through the black dust, a woman in a flowing black dress stood, her hands empty, her hair a curtain of red silk. She smiled at Mariah, and it was the precise inverse of the Queen’s: cold, blunt, and utterly without hope. “Enough,” she said, and in a heartbeat, every candle in the great hall died.

He says. “I would rather die, father,” I say again. "NO... Don't do this, Amber... please don't!" A woman screams. She whimpers uncontrollably. Her hand up to her chest as if she was suffocating, and perhaps she is. I turn to look, it is a lady in a dark navy dress with a white bonnet over her head. Our eyes meet, those beautiful dark eyes, framed in a red line, bloodshot. My mother.

Ryan did not confirm nor deny it, but I could tell the truth from the guilty look in his eyes. The scorching summer day in June felt like winter to me. I held my breath in shock. What was I to Ryan, if that woman was his wife? "Stop faking it," the woman taunted me. Then, she went on to introduce me to the onlookers. "Ladies and gentlemen, take a good look at this homewrecker! She snatched my husband from me, and she had the audacity to ask him for an apartment."

“Come forward.” I flinched at the sound of a second pair of footsteps, the soft clink of metal brushing against stone. I hadn’t even realized someone else had been in the room. A woman stepped out from the shadows near the window, her movements calm, almost too calm. She was tall, with deep brown skin that shimmered faintly under the light seeping in from the hallway. Her hair fell in silky waves of dark purple down her back, a shade so unnatural it almost glowed, and her eyes… her eyes were pitch black, reflecting nothing.

A pair of feet-wearing elegant and famous Stuart Weitzman high heels emerged from the driver's seat. When a fair-skin woman appeared right before them, a collective whisper from the attendees began to flood the entire place. The woman was wearing a classy midi black dress and an oversized wide-brimmed hat that covered almost half of her face. Aside from her pointed and pretty nose bridge, the only thing that was more apparent was her lips in bright red lipstick. But those people didn’t need to see her whole face to recognize who she was.

Immediately I stepped inside I was hit with a cool and subtle aura "Good morning miss, i was given this card?" I approached the woman I had spotted behind a table. She looked neat with her white, wrinkle free shirt and her black penciled skirt, she had her hair packed in a tight bun. When she finally looked up from her computer I immediately felt myself shrink under her gaze. She was as beautiful as a model, I suddenly felt so out of place "Okay let me have a look-" She took the card from my hand and examined it turning it around to reveal a name I hadn't seen earlier on Raymond

“You know that –” “Know that what!?” came a woman’s shriek. They all turned to see a woman marching towards them from down the hallway. She, too, was dressed in all black, with long, flowing red hair that trailed past her shoulders, and large, shiny green eyes. She was tall, ageless, and strikingly beautiful. Caitlin felt humbled in her presence, like she had just shrunk. This was a woman. Or was it…vampire? Whatever she was, she was a creature that Caitlin could never compete with. She felt deflated, prepared to concede Caleb to whoever she was.