It’s only a matter of time now.
I struggle against my bonds but there is no give. I’ve been fighting for several hours now but I finally go limp with exhaustion. I accept my fate and that my destruction is inevitable. I gaze downwards past my confines at the morass of hair and the disgusting sounds emanating from the dreamer. I look forward at the bay window, the infernal portal of my impending demise. The shades are drawn but glints of dull red and increasingly bright yellow filter through. It stings and I recoil slightly.
Most often, when faced with one’s end, it is customary to succumb and reflect on the past life lived. Although my life had no discernible beginning, I can freely recollect the events of the night before. I suppose, if anything, it will keep me occupied while I wait for the inevitable.
I lived my existence flitting through the darkness, through realms unseen by the eyes of you and anyone like you. I clutched at and propelled myself along what you would call the shadows. Through the darkened waste I would fly, filtering out those which call to me. And upon receiving the signal, I land upon your domicile. I seep in through any available orifice. And there you slumber, wasting away the glorious dark, recharging your primitive minds. No matter, I thank you for this opportunity, for this gift. The human mind is a miraculous thing and the horrors I have seen and imposed upon you are just one sliver of these wonders.
I sift downwards and extend my velvet soft tendrils. I caress your scalp as tenderly as a lover and I settle in for the night. I sigh with content as the probe your mind and seek my nourishment. I can see what brings you fear, anxiety, trepidation. I can see what makes you struggle in the night, what causes you to thrash out in alarm, what causes your eyes to twitch as rapid as frightened rabbit.
This one in particular was interesting. I probed his subconscious seeking that which I would claim. I clutch a little tighter, my black reach clutching forth through the shade. And then in the darkness I see: light. Bright light, but I feel no harm. It begins as a soft glow and I recoil at the sudden warmth upon my being. I see The Dreamer amidst the glow. He is.. happy, content. Flushed, breathing heavily. He is in love. Yet I have no remorse because I am hungry and I must feed.
The glow blooms brighter, brighter, ever brighter. Warmer, now hotter. The soft amber glow erupts into a raging spark of red belching forth torrents of black smoke. Amidst the red and the heat I hear screams. I see precious curios melt into amorphous puddles. I see The Dreamer, clutching forth, reaching. Reaching for…safety?
Reaching for… the blistered hand of a lover. I see and taste the salty tears of the forsaken as a burning piece of wreckage smashes down, burying a love now lost to the embers. Beneath me in the waking world, I feel The Dreamer struggle and moan. It feels so good against my satiny shape. I clutch just a little more gently and reach down deeper. I see the events being to shift in reverse.
I see the night of the lost love. The soft glow has returned. It surrounds me, a collection of tiny pillars of wax emanating that perplexing warmth. I see The Dreamer below, he is intertwined. In the throes of passion with…another, presumably the lost love. They both embrace softly and I see that both The Dreamer and the Lost Love are men. No matter, a love is a love but I feel there is something more. Why else would I bear witness to this coupling?
The vision vanishes leaving only the soft glow. I witness the Lost Love present his beau with a gift box. I hiss as The Dreamer removes the very object of my abject demise. He smiles in joy and I grimace in rage as The Dreamer hangs the infernal contraption upon where I am currently situated. Let’s move on… I see… another man. This one, older. The Dreamer and the Lost Love are situated on a couch, clasping each other’s hands. The Dreamer is shaking with anxiety, the Lost Love rubbing his hand tenderly. The other man, the larger and older one… his age creased face curls with contempt. I hear nothing but I recognize unjust rage when I see it.
A scuffle. Furniture overturned, tears flowing, spittle flies forth from a red face. Fingers gestured rudely in the face of the Lost Love. He clutches the sobbing form of The Dreamer.
And for a moment, I feel… sympathy.
This is all wrong. It’s time to withdraw. The Dreamer stirs below me and I attempt to sup more energy from his mind. Suddenly I see…happiness. Joy. I feel the trepidation slip away. I know that the horrors and heartbreak befalling The Dreamer were all too real but his subconscious is racing forward, breaking free from my binds. I see both men dressed in ridiculous costumes, surrounded by revelers as a celebration rages around them. Both men are chatting amicably and I sense the nervousness in their minds. But this is one of caution optimism and I see one glove bedecked hand reach forth and lightly touch the other. We move forward and a light begins to glow. It begins to grow warm, now hot.
But there is no fear, no sadness. This light gazes from overhead as both The Dreamer and the Lost Love perch on a wall overlooking the sea. Hands intertwined, both drinking soft drinks and gazing forth at the azure waters. One rests their head on the other’s shoulder and below me The Dreamer stirs. I see… another ceremony. Both clad in dark suits before a congregation. Both stand at a ceremonial altar and amidst the throng I spy the older man from before. He looks… not pleased… but complacent.
The heat grows hotter. I feel my grip slipping. What is happening…
The Dreamer and the Lost Love and embrace and kiss and suddenly… all is lost. But not for them, oh no. Their bond was torn apart from the flames and I too feel the same fate befalling me. I drift upwards, drawn towards that damnable light.
I struggle against it. Below me, The Dreamer has a grin. A vortex of light before me. It burns! I am drawn into the vacuum and suddenly all comes to a halt. And here I sit and wait my end. I glance at the contraption surrounding me. Round, intertwined with concentric strands of leather. Several more strands hang below each adorned with beads and feathers. One more bead stands out, a pinpoint of light that pins me in place. I curse the thing’s very existence and continue to press against the sinewy bonds.
Before me, through the window, the light grows stronger. I smell the smoke wisping from my form. Below me, The Dreamer has awakened. He clutches at the blankets wistfully and then sits up, wiping a tear from his eye. He strides forth, pauses for a moment and proceeds to the drawn shades.
I brace myself.
Blinding light and heat, roaring into my very being. As the sun engulfs me, I see The Dreamer reach down and lightly brush a picture frame situated on the base of the bay window. I feel that strange feeling enter my shade again as I slowly fade into the very smoke and fire. I am a creature of shadow, I am a harbinger of the nightmare realm.
I feel no compassion.
Yet, as I see the man react to the visage of the Lost Love, I succumb to the rays of the sun and I feel