The 8th Dwarf

Snow White had her seven dwarfs.
Grumpy, Dopey, Doc, Happy, Bashful, Sneezy & Sleepy of course.
I've met another, with a black beard.
Hard to grasp. To scared to ask.
Red eyes and crystal teeth.
Who hides away in the darkest cracks.
Any sudden movement you pin me like a tack.
So I took a step back.
Wondering why I didn't leave a bread crumb track.
In the midst of an enchanted forest.
Lost, in the dark.
Running, running.
Back in the same spot.
Coming out from your hole in the ground.
Stealthy, not a sound.
A smile appears on the dwarfs face.
A glistening spark in the dark.
Lifting one your finger, leaving a rainbow trace.
Beckoning my way. To come & play.
Feet dragging forward, I step towards the short little creature.
Eyes working to scan every ragged yet delicate feature.
In a daze, the curiosity craze.
Over in the side of the tree, a little door.
You point out to me.
Can you feel my curiosity feed..?
Grabbing only my finger and gently pulling me towards the door.
I tell myself he's just a dwarf, nothing more.
Leaves crunching beneath my feet.
Not a word said, eyes looking up at me softly.
Standing in front of the door.
Sick yet waves of ecstasy eating at my core.
He shakes his head assuringly at me, as if telling me to go in.
My mind runs thin. Blank..
Stopped in a trance, standing. Waiting.
Terrified of what this door may hide.
Lifting another hand with a bright glow dancing behind it.
The door slowly cracks, seeing nothing but beautiful magic things inside.
My fear subsides.
Stepping into a magical land.
The little dark dwarf takes my hand.
Snatching me aside.
The illusion bleeding its the colors away.
Painting on the dull gray.
With a lift of your hands, you have me forced down.
An invisible hold, your eyes cold.
Listening to my beating heart.
Flick of your hands, mutilated & ripped apart.
The eighth dwarf being death.
I lay in my enchanted death bed.
Death happily fed.