The nights had given me anguish as I lusted for rest... The only way I was able to—was by medicating myself by drinking liquor. Bottle—after bottle, I left on the wayside. My stomach aches with the foul crow as my mouth breaths with fire and my lungs strangle under the weight of my flesh... What am I to do with myself? What would Cresalin think of me? As I linger onto this thought without giving myself an answer—that bastard dream decisively came to me when I wanted to delay its arrival... In this dream, I awoke to a vast marble room with pillars ascending into the darkened void of the ceiling. In the middle, lower on the floor, a feminine being kneels on the ground, holding her knees. Her skin wasn’t normal; instead, it was made of stone with different shades of grey. Parts of her body are chipped, exposing the pulsating red skin within. Despite her irregular appearance, I found the statue alluring to her proximity. I could hear her whispering bewildered words that were not transparent to my comprehension.

I leaned closer, seeing that smooth, unshapen face, and then I caressed the surface to see if she would give me a reaction. A reaction I did receive from her had hands that wrapped around my own... The voices sing louder and more apparent—still incoherent to grasp the words. The stone-like skin tightened around my wrist, but the touch was still soft... Attempting it was to gofurther into the lustful fantasies—I was sadly awakened from my own body’s dogma. This bastard craves more alcohol, growing an evermore bitter taste stained against my tongue.

My servant Alen has forsaken me with his lack of—presence; thus, I take the long walk down the stairs through the halls and into the very pit of darkness. Oh—what a fool I am to have not prepared a lantern for myself... What an idiot I’ve become, lost in the darkness with no bottle to be seen nor felt by my hand—what a pity to turn sober amidst my state of desolation. I shall not give in just yet; there is time in this night of longing. With these hands pressed against the stone wall, I move forward until something catches my sight. At that moment, a faint light catches my wandering eye.

My vision begins to comprehend my current surroundings with help from the ignited candles. I was not alone, to my astonishment... A stranger lurks to the other side of the hallway—merging from the shadows. Though blurry, my sight remains present, and curiosity beckons me to draw closer. That dark dress was reminiscent of Cresalin’s... Could this be the moment? This drunken state is not well suited for this scenario, and yet—I still want to be near her at this moment; and again, like the moron I am, my words became artful wince: “Lady of the night—sing your songs to me... For I am the wander forever moving upon the lonesome road, please allow my rest—and let us enjoy the sanctity of reunion!”

She tittered before responding to my embarrassing words: “A song I shall play for the wander if he accepts the siren’s request.” Her voice was strange, like Cresalin’s, but the tone and emotion were absent. Alcohol is affecting my sense of awareness, sure enough.

I replied: “Maiden, I wish to hear your voice again. Tell me of this offer so I may hear you once more.”

She steps closer, “Press your lips against mine and partake the sweet nectar from my body... then you will hear my voice again.” I held her chin, then pressed her lips against mine. She was not hesitant to open our mouths, allowing our tongues to intertwin... Once I released myself from the addicting sensation, I then said: “I accepted your offer... May I be delighted to hear you sing?”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Not here in the bitter cold... Take my hand and follow.”

#

How many halls did we stroll through this extensive night? It does not matter with this stranger’s soft hand wrapped against my own... How long have I had to repress these thoughts of romance? The Archphader demanded my full attention to my studies and labor, and those long hours greatly burdened this body. Yet—there was no reprieve for my efforts...

She led me inside a room of absolute radiance—décor richly scattered in velvet. My blurry visions could comprehend little at a time. Among the wall, there was a decorative frame containing a man and woman with twisted bodies that formed a single entity.

As she pressed her hands against my chest, the image of Cresalin’s face suddenly became present to me... How could I not have realized it was her? That hair—that smile. A sight that gives me a reason to live... and with that beautiful dress of hers, it made my lustful eyes remain entirely still.

Awakened from that sight, I reached for her neck, licking her skin with admiration! She took every part of my soul and pressed me tightly in her body’s embrace. I lifted her in my arms and tossed her on the large bed... This night will last forever, my dear—and with that heart of yours open to me, I shall fill veins with ecstasy! Thus, I ripped apart that once beautiful dress and exposed her smooth body under the crimson light... The curtains close around us unprovoked. Not even the spirits can see this mixture of flesh and pleasure. As our bodies further entangle in delight, our world shifts into a...

I let go of her as my lustful endeavors were taken in an instant. The world around me shifts from its gothic appeal to shift into the realm of depravity... The woman whom I shared this bed with was not a stranger, and neither was Cresalin. She was the same one I had met on those curious nights of desperation. I removed myself from the bed and into the slush around my feet. She rose as well and stood near me... Though pleasant her feminine figure is to behold, her smooth and stretched back skull puzzled the very nature of my intrigue.

“Why do you fear me, Karthuras?” She asked me.

I replied in awe: “I—I don’t know what to say. It's hard for me to comprehend such a world—and your lack of expression!”

“This was the only way I could separate us from the mortal realm and away from ‘her.’” She held my hand, “You should not fear me—for I am your sentinel through the labyrinth of madness.”

Still restless, I nervously asked: “My sentinel? Was it Sleeper who sent you here to me? Or am I truly lost within the contents of my mind?”

“Sleeper has no say in this matter. I am here upon my own accord.”

“No—you’re just a specter. How can you help me...? And why would you!?”

She presses her hand against my chest, “Do you not feel the weight from my touch...? Here, this will prove to you that I am faithful.” She unwraps a long black scarf made from cloth; engraved in its contents are red letters. She continued: “This will prove of my existence... This is the only way I can heal your anguish. When the day arises, I shall be there with you.”

“You sound as if you know of my future... What are you hiding from me?”

Lips formed above her chin suddenly, and without delay, she gave me one more kiss, eventually guiding my staggered self through the door... I’m burdened with questions I demand answers to. Such an amenity will never be afforded to me.