A Dark So Heavy
by F.D. Lind
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Part of you knows me. You know, that thing lurking at the edge of your
world. The ravenous thing. The creature that fed on your fears as a
child. Yes, that's right, the one in the closet. You didn't realize
what I was then, did you? Only when your were older, wiser, and more
alone than ever before. It was then that you knew, but you couldn't
verbalize.
You must think me a monster. I am. I'm your personal monster. I'm not
real, eh? Your parents told you that, but you never believed them. Why
play games now, with me, when I know you so well?
You cried tears into the pillow, after your parents left. The white
cotton pillow. The one your mother fluffed up every night, just before
your session with me. I liked those tears. No offering could have been
more delicious. I licked them off your pillow, from your cheeks, your
lips, your eyes. Licked you to sleep.
You should thank me. I was the only one who would ever touch you. In
any way. Every one else said they loved you. I touched you. Every time
you touched yourself. In your fingers, that's where I hid. Want to be
touched now? There's no one who'll do it, but me and you. Together.
It was more fun as you got older. Feeding on you, that is. More pain,
from your friends, family, but not from me. I would eat you when they
had finished. Sucking out the hope, with deep strokes of my tongue,
right there. You know where. In that heavy pit of emptiness, within
your heart. Some day that will be my home. I'm sick of closets.
Did you feel me there. When the only one you ever wished to love,
pushed you away. Just a little push at first. Then harder, when you
didn't go. Harder, stabbing to the quick, deeply. Again. It was good
for me. Was it good for you too?
Feeling a little strange now? Don't blame me. That wouldn't be fair. I
didn't make you shave. Not down there. It was slick for me though, and
sweet. The cuts from the razor left a small tinge of burgundy, and a
slight taste of blood. The stuff of which emptiness is made. Blood and
me. But that's cliche.
You surprised me, when you started to hit yourself. Some good smacks.
On your shoulders, and your head. You can't drive me out. Not that way.
Not with a feast. Blood and orchids, only one thing will drive me away,
and that takes guts. But you've always been a coward. Inverting
yourself into that hole within. The pit that I made. Flagellate
yourself all you wish. The smell is exquisite, and I only grow
stronger, like an undertow. So heavy, and cold.
What do you expect now? Standing there naked as you are, ready to bend
over. A cane in your hand. Do you want me to strike the blow. I won't.
But when the blow falls, I'll be ready. To lick you there. You know
where. To feed, and take the tears from your lips. Don't feel trapped,
in my chains of loneliness and sadism. I'm all you have.
You've almost finished that special place. Deep within, where only I
can get. That part of you knows. No place to hide now. Soon I won't
lurk in the closet. I'll be with you, the one you love. The only one to
touch your lips, or kiss your breath. I will feed forever with you, as
we are bound. By a dark so heavy.
Love and Dark Dreams,
F.D. Lind
Copyright © 1991 by F.D. Lind
The right to distribute this work is granted, so long
as no fee is charged for this work, and so long as this
copyright notice remains intact.
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