[cycle of life]


He kissed me, touched me, peering down at me in that liquid way that only he possessed. We both sighed, lounging in the huge, feather bed, in a room no house had ever fostered, the absolute darkness beyond the doorway testament to this fact. But I never wondered about that. I accepted that this was the way it was supposed to be. And I somehow knew I was right.

His words were soft and gentle, as always, and I languished in them, wrapping myself in the comfort, security, and love they offered. Nearly every sentence was punctuated by a tender caress; I'd never felt as warm and cocooned as now, in his presence, in his embrace. Security was a novel concept to one such as myself, who'd been running from that thing they call symbiosis nearly all her living years. New wasn't necessarily a bad thing, merely different. It would take some getting used to.

There was only one fault in this unblemished scenario; I knew the minute I closed my eyes for more than just a blink, all of this would vanish. And I was becoming quite drowsy in this languid pose.

I attempted to remain awake and aware, wanting -- needing to preserve this vision of happiness. But it was inevitable that my own eyes should betray me. After all, they'd led me astray so many times previously that deception was becoming commonplace to them now.

Slowly, they closed and remained shut. I was loath to open them now for fear of what misery was in store this time. Sounds were muffled at first -- thudding, muted voices, quiet shouts, and mocking taunts. I could feel my body above some sort of cobblestone path, perhaps traveling in a carriage of some sort. I briefly wondered why most of these visions were centered in the long dead past, and why they were vague and hazy at best.

Peeking from beneath long lashes, I perceived the gloomy interior of a large, crowded coach. Faces were grim and tragic at best, idle and empty at worst. I was wedged between two older people, the female of whom was holding my hand tightly. Being completely oblivious, I could only assume she was a relative or guardian of some sort. A muffled sob escaped her lips, and the others frowned as she tightened her grip on my hand and regained her composure.

From what horror were we fleeing? I could only assume flight was the design in this mirage from the speed of the carriage and the thick tension permeating the interior of the vehicle. And in what time period were we? From the clothing and demeanor of the participants in this delusion, it would appear to be sometime before the twentieth century, but having been lax in my study of history, I couldn't be certain.

The coach came to a sudden, grinding halt, and the faces that had been so dismal and blank before now looked half-alive with expectation. Several of them darted a furtive glance in my direction causing me to speculate, once again, on my role in all of this.

The woman gave my hand an almost painful squeeze before releasing it altogether. The carriage door was flung open and I was physically thrust from it onto the flagstone street. Blinking unexpected tears from my eyes, I gazed back into the darkness of my former haven, reaching out to the woman. The man beside her frowned angrily, grunting as he slammed the door in my face. As the buggy sped into the twilight, I heard the woman wail -- a sound of grief and guilt.

I noticed the street was deserted as I glanced about fearfully. Even animals -- feral dogs and cats -- were scarce. Why had I been abandoned? What purpose did it serve? Would they come back? The uncertainties swirled a murky path through my confusion, drawing on fears and imagination to make my heart flutter in near terror.

I knelt beside a tall, broken-boarded fence, the only barrier between myself, and whatever lay ahead. I needed a wall at my back, and though this one was teetering on the edge of rot, it would have to serve. My breath came as an ephemeral, white cloud in the chill brought on by the setting sun. Slowly my eyes adjusted to the closing darkness, but there was really nothing to see; a barrel under a gutter, an old crate blocking a locked door, some decomposing vegetables in a waste bin. Nothing sinister. Nothing to warrant the building sense of doom within me.

And then, I heard it -- the snuffling, snorting breathing of a large animal. It sounded like a horse, and my hunch was confirmed somewhat when the cloppity-clop sound of hooves followed. Had the carriage returned for me? My heart beat a brief swell of gratitude and relief, which was quickly quelled by some sort of sixth sense within. This was no ordinary animal, and brought with it no ordinary being.

My worst fears were confirmed as the nightmare rounded the corner.

The "horse" was hulking and massive, with sickly green eyes, and two twisted horns emerging from its oversized cranium. Thick, broken tusks grew from both the top and bottom of its horrible, drooling mouth. A burning odor became more distinct as the beast closed on my crouching position. I instinctively knew that the foamy saliva would burn from the inside out if even a drop were to touch my bare skin.

A mewling, high pitched whining filled my ears. It took several moments to realize that the origin of this racket was my own throat. Terror, I know thy name.

The massive beast snarled at me once, flinging its poisonous saliva much too close for my sanity. I watched in fascinated horror as a small drop burned a blackened hole in the underlying lace of my long, blue dress. As the creature moved past me, I felt a fleeting sense of relief -- until, of course, I realized that this monster must have a master, and that the master must be far more horrific than a mere beast of burden.

Frozen in my crouch like a small animal caught in the light, I shivered uncontrollably when I finally noticed the vehicle behind the not-horse. It shimmered with an unearthly black-green mist, hints of blood-red and a lifeless, darkened yellow glowing briefly through the outer threshold from time to time, just past the edge of my vision. It evoked a dismal sense of emptiness. Life was not worth living. The ground called to me. I wanted to be covered in dirt and left to decay.

I sobbed, knowing I was already dead.

The door to this coach of necrosis opened slowly, and I blanched, recognizing something of the madness inside. I knew this creature! Something in me was familiar with it and longed to be with it! I tried, but couldn't stop myself from reaching out to the sinister darkness within. I could feel it enfolding me, strangling me in a rough embrace not meant to comfort, but to inflict despair.

I was drowning. Other visions filled my eyes. I was swimming in freezing waters with an inky blackness closing on me no matter how quickly I swam. I came up from the choking waters in another place and time, gasping for air with lungs burning. People were gathered around me, relatives and concerned friends. I tried to warn them, tried to tell them, but the thing in the water pulled me under, yet again. I cried out, bubbles carrying my scream to whatever surface awaited. Blood filled my mouth as I emerged from the reservoir of misery once again. The people were there, still. I tried to tell them of the children, the blood, the thing that was coming, but darkness closed on me and I was lost.

I opened my eyes with a start not knowing where this particular illusion had landed me. Tears of happiness and relief flooded my vision as I beheld my surroundings. Back in the feather bed. Back in his arms. I choked back sob after sob as he comforted me, stroking my hair and kissing me softly. It was only a bad dream. It wasn't real. I was safe now. I would always be secure in his embrace. I would never want for anything, ever again. This was where I belonged. My destiny awaited me.

I looked deeply into his eyes, and the tears ran anew as I recognized the truth of my thoughts and visions. He smiled softly, laying me gently on the bed, still speaking words of calming comfort and love. But this demon knew nothing of love, and I realized the error of my ways -- in my past lives as well as this one -- as he kissed me one last time, breathing in my soul, my life force, my very being, and leaving me an empty husk, a shell in which humanity once burned with a fierce light.

I choked, gasping once again for air, drowning all over again. My eyes were wide, my pulse a panicked race, as I felt myself falling into him, into his nothingness. This was my fate, had always been my fate -- would always be my fate. I knew this. The answers were all there in his eyes, so familiar because I’d gazed into them over a thousand lifetimes. And just as in this one, I’d probably not recognize them in the next. I’d succumb to his false charms, wallow in his lies, and be devoured by his hunger without a clue as to why his attraction was so powerful.

Only now, in the end, did the revelation come forward. Only now, at the doorway to oblivion, with nothing left tethering me to this fragile existence did understanding and awareness slap me angrily in the face. The dreams had been my warning, but as in my pasts, I had not heeded their omen of my impending demise.

The decree was in, the verdict reached, my destiny yet again fulfilled. Through my death, the cycle of life ran unbroken.