Please enjoy another ultra-short from Cravings.
The Dark is difficult. It is burning, lingering on the promise of affection received. I am enveloped in Its unforgiving hunger. The Dark, with Its brilliant emptiness, wraps me in layers of need. It comforts, yet destroys me. A whisper of longing crumbles me.
“Come with me,” It beckons.
Shadows twirl gently in the corners, waiting for the Dark to close in completely. They laugh at the quivering mass of tears I have become. The Darkness is inviting, wanton in Its pursuit of me. A hand emerges and glides over the warmth of the blankets.
“Take my hand,” It whispers.
It would be so easy to take the hand, go with the Dark. I’ve already lost myself. It knows this. It’s been waiting, watching my gradual shift into shaded pain. A heart twisted and in need of relief. The hand pulls back the blankets, stroking my back in comfort.
“I am here to help,” It confides.
Its touch is seductive. I shudder in the coolness and wish It away. The Dark has devilish desires for me and my increasing unease. My pajama-clad body is finally revealed to It, and I can almost hear a sigh of pleasure. It sees the physical manifestation of my pain, a bright red glow emanating from within me.
“You are ready,” It coos, and reaches out to me, again.
I cannot help myself. I watch my arm raise, lifted by some invisible string. I’ve become a puppet to be used for the Dark’s amusement. The hand touches mine and I become instantly cold. There is no turning back from the Dark. I am gently pulled from the safety of my bed and turned to face It.
“It is time, precious one,” It comforts.
My bed is reflected in Its black eyes. I see myself lying there, covered up and at peace. Peace. It’s all I’ve wanted. Now, hand in hand with the Dark, I finally have It.