His Dark Soul

“Zoey,” he whispered, his voice both pleading and seductive, “Tell me.”

His arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly against him. She felt imprisoned, but she also felt safe. She could remember being folded up in these arms so many times before. A shock of electricity bolted through her body as she felt his heavy breathing against her neck. Zoey began to feel dizzy as he stayed completely still, pressing her back against his chest. She felt the need to turn around, to look into his eyes. To know who he was. Or better yet, to explain to him that she was of no use and that she couldn’t understand what he wanted from her. Her only leads were his pale arms that kept her captive and the same pattern of words that he asked her every night. His voice in comparison of melted chocolate. So divine.

His grip loosened, and soon there was nothing holding her upward. She instantly became unsteady and lost her balance, crashing onto the cold floor. She was alone, or at least she thought she was. The space around her was pitch black as it held its breath. She knew that he could very well be standing right in front her. She covered her mouth, having the slightest hope that if she made no noise, she would be forgotten and that, just possibly, this could all be over. She could remember how the dream would usually end here, leaving her in the clutches of this dark room, how she would usually wake up safe in bed. But this time her dream was being stubborn, as if it didn’t want her to escape.

Her lower back suddenly exploded in pain, and her high pitch screams broke into the silence. It felt as if someone was drilling a hole deep into her skin. She tried to grasp the area where the pain had seized her, but once her hands made contact with her wound, an agonizing pain surged through her fingers. Her eyes became blurry and her screams muffled. Hot tears trickled down her face as she closed her eyes as tightly as she could. She wanted nothing more than to wake up from this nightmare.

All at once, the pain disappeared and Zoey opened her eyes to find herself laying in an open prairie. She slowly arose and gasped when she took in her surroundings. The prairie was motionless and cold. The long grass seemed to be withered and pale. Zoey swallowed hard. The prairie reminded her of death, as if its agony was expressed throughout the grass and carried across the air. She never remembered her dreams taking her this far. The pain in her back, the prairie, what did this all mean? Looking down at herself, she found her eyes squinting to see something blue. A light, icy blue, she decided as her eyes came back into focus. It was a rose. A beautiful blue rose. She removed her concentration from the one plant and let her eyes wander the prairie grass. To her surprise, there were thousands of icy blue roses that she had missed before. Being the only hint of color in sight, they seemed fragile and small. Zoey started to shiver. The prairie must have been about 40 degrees. She wrapped her arms around herself and wished that he was still holding her. She remembered the heat of his body against her back. Zoey turned her head to look over the area that had been burnt, but the moment she did so, a black figure caught her eye.

Him.

He stood across the prairie with his back to her. She hoped that he would turn around. That if her dreams took her this far, they would at least give her the satisfaction of seeing his face. Her eyes ran over his body. He had dark jeans with a black leather jacket, and it was clear that he had a nice build. He was tall, a perfect height, but his hood prevented her from seeing the back of his head. His image seemed almost scary, but there was something about him. Something dangerous that drew her toward him, that made her want to jump back into his arms. She massaged her temples. This is crazy. No. She’s just being crazy.

Zoey started to feel wild goose bumps invade her skin and she quickly realized how easy it was to see her breath as it glided through the air. The temperature must have been falling fast. In an instant, she was down on her knees gasping for air. When she looked up to see him again, he was still motionless, making it clear that the weather wasn’t affecting him in the slightest way. Zoey wanted to scream; she wondered if he was even aware that she was there, but once she tilted her head back and opened her mouth not a sound escaped. It was as if her voice was put on mute. She looked back down across the prairie and to her surprise; he slowly started to turn around lowering his hood as if he’d heard her silent screaming. His face was almost in sight when Zoey heard a sharp, ear piercing scream. It ripped through the air, causing her dream to rapidly shatter into pieces of broken glass.

Zoey woke screaming, and immediately sat up, her body shaking intensely. She wondered if it had been her own voice, screaming in her dream.

Five months it’s been. Five dreadful months.

Author’s Note: I’m not sure if I’ll continue with this, leave a comment below and tell me what you think!

Xoxo,

Vitrescent