Whispers

Chapter Eight

8

Moonlight spilled through the gap in her curtains, pooling along the inky black rug and illuminating the room with its milky glow. He pushed the window gently and it swung open, letting out a soft groan in protest. Hooking his fingers on the sill, he pulled himself up, through the open frame, and climbed inside.

Her body rocked slightly as his weight settled on the pillowy mattress beside her and he paused, watching her slumbering face for any sign of a reaction. He didn't need her waking up the same way she had last time. She shifted slightly beneath her covers, kicking her feet out of the comfort of their warmth, but her eyes remained closed. Slowly, he settled himself beside the sleeping girl, watching each soft breath that passed her lips, the soft flutter of her lashes as she dreamed.

She looked so sweet. So helpless and vulnerable. So...

Delicious.

His mind raced with thoughts of what he could do to her, of all the ways he could torment her. He could picture the hot tears that would stream from those dark brown eyes as though he were seeing them in person, here and now in her bed. Lifting a hand he trailed his knuckles down her face, tracking the exact pattern where those lovely little pearls of pain would fall. As though in reaction to the contact she sucked in a quick breath, her chest stilling for a beat before she released it once more with a soft sigh.

Lowering his hand once again, he allowed his eyes to wander around the half-empty room -he never gave himself the opportunity to do so the last time, after all. Books covered the top of her desk along with a picture frame or two. Her suitcase sat in her open closet beneath the row of yellow sweaters and jeans. Scraps of note paper with little doodles and sketches hung around the small room. Luminescent blue eyes centered in on the canvas leaning against the wall, beside her door, on the portrait she had painted. On the tiny red splatter at the bottom.

He grinned.

"You're playing with fire, sweetheart," he murmured, lowering his head down to rest on the pillow beside hers. "You don't want another nasty burn, do you?"

His long dark locks intermingled with her soft curls and he couldn't help himself but play with them. He ran his fingers through their soft strands, trailed the tips over the silken hills and valleys her hair created. If she only knew how close he was. Would she scream? Would she stare at him the same way she had during his last visit? Oh, he hoped so. He could practically still smell her fear as it rolled off her body in waves, permeating the air around them.

Running his tongue over his lips he shifted onto his side, wrapping one arm loosely around the girl's middle, holding her to him. "How about a bedtime story?" he whispered into her ear, reveling in the soft shudder that coursed through her body as he did. "Would you like a nice story with a happy ending? Perhaps a scary story?"

She continued to sleep in his arms, completely oblivious to the monster that shared her bed.

"Ah!" he grinned into her neck as the familiar tale hit him. "I have the perfect thing. This," he began, "is the story of a Goddess and the monsters her betrayal created. Once upon a time..."

*****

Fog rolled heavily across the floor, shrouding the world in its smoke. Turning in circles, I searched around for something, anything that could tell me where I was but all there was to see were grey clouds and mist for miles.

What happened? One minute I was dreaming of a never-ending slice of pizza and the next I was here, in this colorless void. My thoughts raced faster than I could catch them. Did I die suddenly in my sleep? Did I drool too hard and accidentally drown myself? Was this heaven? Was it a dream? A nightmare? Was this Hell?