Darkness

He pushed forward, sensing her submission, needing to claim her, make her his own. Dropping her wrist, pinning her with his weight, he skimmed his hands along her body, roughly shoving aside the clothes that stood between them, tearing at them to feel the heat they concealed. A sigh shuddered through his body as he finally finally met skin with skin. “Yes…” he ground out. Nipping and tasting her flesh, moving his hands over her, sighing at the sheer pleasure of it. He sought and found her hand, guiding it to his own clothes. “Now,” he whispered, “it’s time now.”

Shivering, almost sobbing with hunger, she pulled at the cloth, damning it all the while. “I know, I know… need you… God, I need you.” Finally acknowledging what drove her. She released him, the power and heat of his cock, groaning her request.

Taking himself in hand, poised just inside her, he fitted his teeth to her neck and slid his knife from its hiding place. As he slammed forward, driving himself to the hilt inside her body, feeling her shudder around him, he buried the knife to its hilt in her heart, both reaching their release at the same Mike. He held her until she shuddered for the last time then withdrew, letting her fall to the floor. Knife and cock he cleaned off on her dress before turning and walking out, never looking back.

_____________________________________________________________________

The reinvention of herself coordinated quite nicely with her new part time job. She was working nights as a dispatcher in a mall. As one could expect, there are many varied personalities to find at a mall. The requisite homosexual, all different ethnicities, freaks. A co-worker named Mike, a security guard, was one of the rare with something special. He read the cards, accurately, and saw things most did not. Mandy was not one of most. She was one of few. Her knowledge of all things dark and twisted was not as new as she pretended it was. For years, there was always something making itself known. Never a visual representation, just emotion. Out of nowhere, she would be struck by an emotion she had never felt before or one at was completely out of place for her current mood or the surroundings. That is how they spoke to her (through her?) and over Time, she had grown accustomed. Almost accepting. She should have known, somewhere in the back of her mind that the first visual meeting was coming, but for whatever reason, she was completely unprepared.

She was driving home from work when it happened; feeding herself into the dark she could feel inside her, letting it build… whatever “it” was. The hair on her arms raised, giving way to the goose bumps; her body shook in an involuntary shiver and she felt something cold to her right. She knew. While she had never been prepared, now that it had happened, she knew what it was. She steered her head slowly to the right and saw her. There was no gasp of surprise, no scream or even a jerk of the wheel. Somehow, she just knew. She locked eyes with her, this cold, pale girl. Her hair was white blonde, almost bleached; her eyes were a watery blue. She wore a white dress, typical ghost stuff. Holding her gaze with her own, the “girl” moved her mouth. She was trying to say something and it may have been resistance on Mandy’s part or just lack of practice for the ghost, but it took Time for something to work its way past her lips. As it went, it was an act of sheer will. “Help me…” she croaked, cutting it with a shuddery breath. “ Help me; save me.” On the other hand, maybe it was, “Help me save me” and then she was gone. She never did find out one way or another, which it was intended to be, but it shook her to the marrow.

The rest of the drive home flew past in a flurry. She replayed the event a hundred times, never quite able to puzzle it out. Nevertheless, she knew that if anyone had an answer, it would be Mike. She had her door opened and her seat belt off as she shut off the car, the door unlocked and open in the barest span of Time. In mere seconds, she had Mike on the line. In one long wheezy breath, she spilled the story in its entirety. He calmed her in no Time, had her recount the story several Times before sighing deeply. He let her know that, while he was not well versed in the manners of those passed, he knew someone who was. The mere statement of fact was enough to calm her and she was able to sleep that night, deeply in fact. She knew that the answers were coming.

It was a couple of nights before her next shift, but it did come. The Time that had passed between the happening and working again had been short, but immense. She had managed to downplay it, make it a product of an overworked imagination. So when Mike brought his friend to the office, Mandy felt downright foolish. Ron, the friend, wore a leather jacket, a dark look and a brooding expression. She felt waves of black coming off him and knew it (and him) for what he was, but refused to acknowledge it. She brushed it off, told him exactly what she had told Mike with none of the inflection. “It was likely just an overtired mind hard at work,” she told him offhandedly.

He shrugged and said, “Whatever.” As he turned around and walked off, Mike glanced at her with an amused expression in his eyes, shook his head, and followed Ron out. She felt completely off balance and one hundred percent the fool. She brushed it off and prepared to forget the experience, but it just was not to be.

A few days later, Mike stopped by the office to let her know he was on duty and was going to go outside and smoke. While Mandy was not a smoker, she was always willing to get out of her little hidey-hole for a break. She grinned, feeling very powerful, very strong, very comfortable in her own skin that night and murmured, “Me too.”

He laughed, knowing she would not smoke and waited for her to lock up the office. They stepped outside; Mandy closed her eyes, feeling waves of something strong, powerful, and sensually dark wash over her, feeding into what she kept locked away. One deep breath had her feeding into it, letting all that darkness seep into her bones, her body.

When she opened her eyes, Mike was gone. Rolling her eyes, she leaned back against the cool brick, pulling a sliver of what was inside her out and crashing the wind in angry torrents around her, blowing her hair out around her face and whipping her shirt about her. She felt powerful and wanted to abuse it, just this once. For just once, she wanted to feed that power. With the wind still whipping around her, she heard a door close and glanced up. Mike had come back, but he brought with him the darkness she tried so hard for so long to lock away. Ron looked at her, one eyebrow raised then looked around at the things blowing in the wind. She pulled it back inside herself, made nice conversation with the boys. They talked about the weather, sports, and other inconsequentials. After a couple of minutes, Mike received a call on the radio to which he had to attend. Off he went, leaving Mandy with a man who embodied everything she tried to reign in within herself. But tonight was no normal night. She felt it, and felt the need to unleash it. Tilting her head back, eyes closed, she called to it again. A normal onlooker would not know. Ron knew. Threw in some of his own, in fact, startling her. She pulled it all back in, painfully, and stared wide eyed at him. “You didn’t know? You expect me to believe you are caught unaware? Bullshit.” He spat these words with complete disbelief and not a small amount of disdain. “I know you for what you are, what you feed. I was that person once and it nearly killed me. I got another shot. You may not. But feed it. Now. While there’s someone to protect you.”

Mandy bristled at that. Protection my ass. “What I hold within me is stronger than that which is in you. You think it is not? You feel me. You have felt me since minute one. Since the phone call with Mike, you have felt what I am. While I have not perfected all of me, I know what lies inside. I call to it, feed it, thrive on it. I fear nothing, especially not you.” Raising her hands, she brought concrete shaking wind forward, whipping the air around him with it. “I am powerful, strong, dark, deeply sensuous. Strong, powerful and in control. Forget that and it will be your loss.”

Laughing, he fought power with power. “You are a child. I see who you were, what you are. You know me. We’ve been here before, Mandy. You have nothing in light of my power. Your power, strength, darkness”, this last spat with disgust, “are nothing under the force of my strength.” With that, his strength added to hers, they shook buildings, cars, people. Watching the chaos only pushed her further; tapping into something she scarcely knew existed, she pulled a single bolt of lightning. Sent it crashing to the ground. Thank the powers that be her strength was weak yet. It hit bare parking lot with minimal force. Nevertheless, it was a wake up call. What she had called up from within quickly dwindled and he stopped the force of his own. The wind died and the roiling black clouds dissipated, leaving nothing but tranquil night in its place. Shaking, she leaned against the brick again, eyes closed, breathing ragged. He came to her, imprisoned her between his two arms against the wall and waited for her to look at him. She would, too. He demanded it of her without a word. And she submitted that to him; opened her eyes and met his with a small amount of trepidation. “It’s not a toy to be battened about carelessly. You fed it tonight, unleashed a small piece of what you and I both know lie inside you. It would be careless to do so again.”

A hunger as she had never felt began to build inside her and her tongue slipped from between her teeth to wet her lips. He saw it and it lashed him, moving him forward in excruciatingly slow degrees. Eyes wide open and locked with hers, he caught her bottom lip between his teeth, tracing his tongue on that captured part. Her eyes drooped, her lids suddenly weighted and her lips parted in something somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. His eyes gleamed in predatory victory as he slipped his tongue between her lips, past her teeth to stroke her own. He took one hand from the wall beside her face to cup the back of her head, pulling her in tightly, restricting her ability to move away. She fed that too, pulling her hands free of their bodies and twining them about his neck, threading her fingers into his hair.

He kissed her with a kind of possession that she had never felt before but something tickled her as familiar in this taste. She knew this man. Something in the way he held her... there was something there… something she knew she should recognize but she could not focus under the force of this kiss. It was as though he were trying to brand her, mark her as his own. She felt his power shimmering somewhere beneath the surface, struggling for a foothold. In his defense, he tried. He really did try to leash it in; hold it back. Even with the best of intentions, he failed. The heat of the kiss, the temptation of the unknown, the sizzle of power… all so heady, powerful. She felt drugged, as though weighted and weightless all at the same Time. With a sigh, slid a hand from his neck to link through his fingers. Opening herself to him, allowing this crazy bond they shared to deepen, she pulled him in. Just a sliver of what he had inside him threaded through to join her own, but it was a whirlwind. Instantly, it was as though they were flying. Wind whipped around them, but Time stood still. This passion, the heat, all that brought them to this place at this Time combined and slammed into them with the force of a hurricane. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew fear. Her mind screamed at her to use caution, not to trust this man, but it, too, was lost in the moment. When they broke away, panting and shaking, they leaned into each other to steady themselves. Whatever had poured through them, whatever power was a part of them drained them. They were as weak as babies, leaning forehead to forehead, just breathing.

They drew apart slowly, trying to catch their breath, still reeling from the power packed into that one kiss. Still weak, somewhat drugged, they stared at each other, trying to fathom what had just happened; what it might mean. Both of them had reached a place in their lives. They were settled in, comfortable. Neither of them needed the complication. But here it was. It is not every day a joining of magic occurs. As they stared at each other, thoroughly bemused, the door squeaked open and it startled them both. How had they not considered their location? What had just happened here that caused both of them to lose sight of logic, common sense. They turned to greet Mike, whose timing was ever impeccable.

Smiling, they engaged in conversation and managed to act as though nothing had just happened. Mike acknowledged the lie for what it was and accepted it, allowing them to deal with this in their own way. Gradually, Ron worked his way back to his own corner and Mandy resumed her position in the office.

She sat, fingers bridged beneath her chin, eyes closed remembering, reliving. The heat, the passion, the sheer force that raged between them had been new, exciting, exhilarating, a little frightening. Even with all that, even with the fear, the wonder of it, there was something else there. This had happened before. She knew, somehow somewhere, they had met before. A tickle of destiny slivered down her spine, but the harder she tried to call the memory up, the further it danced out of reach.

The feeling stayed with her as she drove home, taking extra care at the dip in the road that brought her to Ron in the first place. It remained after she had eaten, while she showered and persisted after she climbed into bed. No matter. The harder she clawed at the memory; still it tiptoed out of reach. It just did not make sense to her. She knew she had never met him before. Knew, for a fact, that she had never felt that kind of power or that heat before. And yet…

Fighting sleep, she struggled ever harder to regain some of the feeling that had plagued her in the heat of the moment of her experience with Ron. She could remember the heat and power of it, but she could only remember it, not feel it. Like watching a movie. Groaning in frustration, she rolled over, punched the pillow and closed her eyes, but like a bad penny, the thoughts kept drudging their way to the surface. WHY did this feel as if it was fated? Why did she feel like this kiss was not the first they had shared? And why the hell could she not shut off the niggling thought that she was missing something vital?

As sleep took over, she gave up. Forcing the thrill of the memory to rest, she relaxed her mind into sleep, vowing to mull it over tomorrow. But in her sleep is where she would find her answers…