Neverwood |h.s.|

17

There's warmth on my cheeks. In all of the cold emptiness, there is suddenly warmth. It's a strange feeling after what seems like an eternity of nothingness.

Red, crimson red.

A dark king.

A light queen.

Violet eyes so much like my own.

Sometimes in the darkness I can't tell if I died or if it was my mother. Maybe we both did, in that moment.

I've heard my name called out many times since we walked out of that monstrosity. A deep cadence that danced between my eardrums as we walked and walked and walked. No one stopped us.

That was their mistake.

Once I made the decision to end them, I knew I would. Not today. No....not today. But soon. When the time came. When I was prepared and ready to fight.

I'd end them all.

We walked and walked and walked. The being beside me carrying my enemy in his still weak arms. I didn't care though. I didn't care that she was here. I didn't care about anything at all. I only cared about this bitter rage that was roiling inside of me.

And still, his voice called my name and it sounded through me like a battle drum.

Like he knew that I was gone, his little human.

Maybe I did die.

Maybe all that remained was the darkness that had been visiting me since my father passed.

Maybe when all that was good, all that was innocent, was ripped away...

maybe all that was left was the seductive darkness.

~~~~~~~~~

Enchanting darkness. Sweet lover of mine. It envelops me like a long-lost loved one. Pressing me against it's bosom like it needs me as much as I need it.

It longs for me like I long for it.

It swallows me whole. Passionately licking at my wounds.

Oh, lover of mine. How sweet it's melody of despair and fury. How tempting and decadent.

I allow it inside of me, this enchanting night, and it fuses all of the broken pieces left in the aftermath. It fixes me. It gently embraces all of my jagged bits and holds me together. Molding and crafting me into a new design.

It is all I feel now.

This sweet darkness of mine.

~~~~~~~~

Jessie.

The battle drums beat to the sound of my name. Echoing like it is coming from somewhere deep, tucked far away from where I am now.

Jessie.

It rings and pounds and that wretched warmth is back, pulling me up from the deep abyss once more.

I have been here before.

Jess.

His voice pulls me out and I blink awake to find Hew's hands glowing against my cheeks while vibrant green eyes reflect in the dark near the end of my bed.

A sharp inhale rips through my lungs and I lunge forward, grasping at bedsheets, air tearing through my chest as I come back.

"Jessie," Hew's voice barrels into me, his breath fanning my cheek as his hands move about my face, checking me over as if he needs to see that I am okay, that I am here, "where did you go?" He asks, worry coating is words, and it sickens me. But nothing sickens me more than the creature at the foot of my bed.