A smile tugged at her lips as she took a step closer.
“This is adorable,” she said, her voice hushed.
It was their one-year anniversary. She hadn’t thought he’d even remember.
She took another step closer, the field of flowers spreading out in front of her.
It was one of a kind.
“Just for you,” he whispered behind her.
She could hear the smile in his voice. She turned towards him, drawing him close.
Just before their lips touched, she stopped. The intense gleam in his eye caught her off guard.
She spun back towards the field, their lips barely brushing.
“What are they?” she asked, suddenly cautious.
He didn’t reply.
She stepped right up behind one of the flowers. Taking a deep breath, she walked around it.
Then she screamed.
Pale lifeless eyes stared back at her from an impaled head.
Behind her, she heard the cackle of a laugh.
© 2019 Sunday Photo Fiction, September 22 2019
Photo from Morguefile