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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Dark · #1920553
Thoughts and images.
Like vultures they watch our every move, listening intently for that last dying breath so they may finally descend upon us to devour our flesh, slake their thirst with the juices of our fading life, triumphantly sitting atop our corpses. But we fight, dumbly, stubbornly, just so we won't become simply another pile of bones among these plains, just so we don't have to join others, who came before us and failed to reach their destination, instead succumbing to the desert sun and dehydration and hunger. Some lasted longer then others, surviving on what little sustenance the corpses of their fallen friends could provide in this harsh environment, but in the end death had claimed all, just as she always does, regardless of who they were and how hard they fought. In death we're all equal, save maybe for the brief memory that some earn, yet even that perishes with time like a cloud of cigarette smoke.
It has been so long since we set out on our journey that i'm not sure i can even remember what drove me to take that step out the door in the first place. Nor can i remember where we are headed and why. I forgot where our destination is, as well. All i remember is what i hope to find. That one last thing i remember is what keeps me going, what keeps me fighting for my right to reach the light at the end of the tunnel, for my chance at earthly pleasures. I don't think of my soul, even so close to death as i am i can not push the images of your naked form beneath me out of my mind. Those nights we've shared, joined together as one, loving each other on the bed of fallen leaves, when moon shone down on us, bathing us in it's cold light, making our skin glow, as if from within. All that is on my mind is you in my arms, and the taste of your lips, scent of your skin, your nails sinking into my back, as you cry out for me not to stop, to make love to you for ever and ever, and the aroma of your hair, and the way your moans almost became animal growls at times as you bit my shoulders until i bleed, red smears across your mouth as you gorged yourself on my blood, draining the life from me and giving it back when i feasted on your very soul. It was a strange relationship between you and i, wicked symbiosis, unwilling sharing of life on both sides, never asked for, but always given, never understood but always needed.
I'll walk these sun-bleached sands for all eternity, if that is what it takes to find you again, even if only to hear you moan for me but once before you drink the last of me and let out your final breath as we slip into eternal dream side by side, loving and loathing each other, as we always have, gladly taking and unwillingly giving, never growing old and never thinking when will it end. It's a vicious circle. We could never survive without each other, not out there in the wild, where everything wants to kill us and only waits for an opportunity to strike. And so we crawl towards one another, never knowing if we shall ever meet again or if we are even going in the right direction.
There's one thing that worries me, though. Will we recognize each other now, after all this time if we meet?
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