Danse Macabre // Open
Caterina let out a soft, languid sigh as she turned on Danse Macabre written by Camille Saint-Saëns. It was one of her favorite pieces, one she slaved over to choreograph before deeming it near perfect when she was thirteen years old.
The composition was based off of a poem on an old French superstition revolving around Death playing a tune every Halloween, at midnight. He trailed through cemeteries and drew temporary life into those already dead. According to the superstition, Death summoned the skeletons and had them dancing for him until the break of dawn, when they must return to their graves again.
It was a piece that piqued her interest, and as the tempo of the music slowly became more erratic, Caterina took the time to stretch out her limbs. She stretched her arms above her head and reached for the ceiling as she spread her legs knees-length apart. Then, with one fluid motion, she rolled her torso to fully stretch out her shoulder muscles and leaned forward to stretch out the muscles in her lower back and upper thighs. From there, the brunette let the music take over, as if Death himself was controlling her every limb. Her fingertips trailed across her skin, and as the tempo picked up, so did her movements. Once flowing gestures became more rigid and violent as she twisted and turned like the skeletons she envisioned within her mind.
Her breathing grew ragged and her chest heaved, though her leaps, cambrés, and priouettes didn't cease. By the end of the composition, Caterina was so engrossed into the dancing that she hadn't even realized that she had an audience. The music ebbed away into the silence and she sunk to the ground like the skeletons that retired into their graves. She gasped when she realized someone else's presence and straightened to peer into the darkness. "Who's there?" Her heart hammered in her chest and for a split second, she thought maybe it was Death who had come for her after all these years.
