The Light Side Of Dark

The darkness on the planes before him only reflected the darkness in his own heart.  This form, this cursed form kept him in this darkness and no matter the light that would shine on his skin, he could not break free from it.
         The moon was full.  Tonight he would change.  Tonight he would become the beast he dreaded.  The beast he feared.  The beast he could not control.  There was nothing that could leash that rage within him.  No one could quiet his furious heart or the furious hunger.
         Even when his belly was full, his blood pumped for more.  His loins were empty, starved for fear of rejection.  Every soul he had met on this twisted path could do nothing to hide the fear in their eyes when they had had the pleasure of meeting the beast.  That fear and disregard for his feelings as human too would only enrage him further.  So violent was his fury, so desperate were his emotions, that for all his long life, he remained alone with only his dark self for company.  So here he stood, looking out into the reflection of his soul, terrified of the rising moon.
         A forest, black and uninviting to everything but the creatures of the night, loomed ahead of him.  It seemed to beckon to him.  A safe place perhaps? 
A night of travel had brought him to this place.  He needed a place where only those on the natural food chain would be consumed.  Too many times he found himself close to towns and villages, fearful of what poor creature had been taken down, its blood staining his mouth and drying crustily under his fingernails.
         Already as he neared a deeper darkness within the trees, he could feel the pulling of the blood.  The moon, in her sweet viciousness called him out.  Soon my lady, he thought, very soon.
         In his wanderings only one feeling remained.  Thirst!  No way to quench it.  He could hear a brook around him somewhere.  His eyes had changed focus, could see clearer, further.  His hearing had sharpened and in his halfway form, he found difficulty in deciphering what were his dark senses and what were his light flesh-foot senses.  Was the brook near or far?
         As he travelled deeper into the thickness of trees and brush, he felt the ground become boggy underfoot.  The harrowing sight of the moon glinted restlessly on the surface of the flowing stream of water that trickled temptingly so close to him.  He resisted the urge to plunge his fists into that reflection and scatter it across the ripples and break it apart!  But too many times his hands were left frozen and sore from the effort.  Too many times he had lashed out.  No good would ever come of it.  No good ever came of it.  This was his darkness.
         Even in flesh my life is dark, no relief from my urges.  My hunger.  My lust.
         He went down on his knees and dipped his hands into the water.  It was shockingly cold and his long growing fingernails felt burned and sensitive.  He saw it then, his reflection dancing across the water.  His face, by day a golden brown from relishing the feeling of the sun on his flesh, now looked cold and blue.  The shoulder-length black hair, the colour of his moon-time cloth, hung limp and clung to his face.  His eyes.  Even in this highlighted blackness, his eyes were unchanged.  They were glittering blackness, one as dark as coal, the other as silver blue as the moon that haunted him.  His mouth, full and blood red steadily filled with longer pronounced fangs.  His killing tools.  In the reflection too, he could see his body change.  Always he had been dominant in frame, but he could see those muscles enlarging, stretching, his shoulders broadening, his neck pulsing with the beat of the approaching black blood.
         The tear that slipped from his cold cheek, dropped into the waters, startling him.  The tears that followed were warm.  The first warmth he had felt in a long long time.  But his instincts told him to push it off.  Look at yourself, he thought. You are a beast, an animal to be feared.  Stronger than any other, more powerful, more keen and here you kneel, kneel, weeping into a stream!  He clenched his teeth, aware of his sharpening canines.
         His instincts not quite honed, he only sensed the presence when it reached out and touched him.  Still torn between flesh and fur, he absorbed the caress, feeling the warmth of the hand, the gentle pressure, the arousal as the hand stroked very very slightly as it was removed.
         The animal in him roared and spun and leaped!
         And hit nothing but air.
         Fear and wonder stalled him, froze his movements. His breath was held and he let it out in a sudden outward gasp.
         The hand that crept out from behind the tree was long and slender.  The face that followed was beautiful, with eyes as black as the night twinkled with stars in the moon-time sky, a mouth as red as berries and a face as white as the moon.  Her hair was as silver as stars and it slipped over one exposed shoulder.  More of her body peered out, exposing more of that feminine grace and feline beauty.
         Trapped by his terror and his lusting, he could only step back, harnessing the beast that threatened to rage forward.  Torn by the touch and the hunger, he could only stare, but part of him still felt like he was stalking his prey.  He realised then, as he watched her almost tease him as she exposed more of herself to him from behind the tree, that her breast rose and fell sharply as his rose and fell.  His wolf senses picked up the delicate tints in the air.  It was not fear that caught her breath so, it was excitement.
         The world went quiet as she spoke.
         ‘What could be so terrible stranger, that it would make you weep so heartbreakingly and yet create a wrath so explosive?’  She had come away from the tree now.  Her body curved and coiled and danced as she moved.  Her long frayed dress housed a slender fit body.  Such muscles, such form, said the dark one within him.  How could he tell her she was too close, too near to the wrath that she spoke of?  How could he tell her this without her disappearing, leaving him alone?
         ‘What I am mistress,’ he swallowed, unable to continue.
         ‘What you are is not what you see, it is what you feel.’
         Claws grabbing flesh, teeth gripping muscle.  He shook the thought from his mind.
         ‘And if I feel like a beast?’ he spat out sharply.  She took a step towards him, his eyes transfixed on her thighs as they slid past one another.
         ‘What kind of beast are you stranger?  The form I see before me in my garden is one of strength, one of compassion, one of humility.  I see a beast before me fighting for the light in him, not relishing the dark.’
         ‘You do not know my dark side!’
         ‘Teeth and claws.  Hunger and thirst.  Prey and the kill.  This is not your dark side.  The dark side of anyone, of any creature, is the want in the kill, not the need of it.  The hunt for pleasure, not for survival.’
         His blood roared for her.  His fingers clenched and released, from delicate hands used to feel and caress to closed fists used to pummel and destroy.  He dropped his head and looked at the black ground beneath his feet. 
She had suddenly come so close to him.
         ‘I fear I will hurt you.’  His words came out small and childlike and when he raised his head, her eyes, those shining midnight eyes had locked onto his and were smiling.
         ‘You are in my garden stranger, my sanctuary.  Nothing can hurt me here.’  He raised his hands that were fast becoming claws.  To him, this was his warning.  This was showing her, telling her what his voice could not.  Run from me.  Run from me. 
As if she had read his mind she suddenly took one of his hands in hers and placed it to her breast.
         ‘I neither want to, nor need to flee from your side.  In your blindness you could never truly see me, but your wonderful senses felt me.  I have always been here,’ she moved their clasped hands to his chest, ‘and here.  And I know what lies within you.  I have known because each day you breathe, I have watched your chest rise and fall.  I have felt the ground warm with each of your footfalls.  My hand has always been there to catch your tears.  I have watched and I have waited, for you to enter my garden, your sanctuary for you to join with me at last.’
         ‘J…join?’
         ‘Take me as part of you.  Be the way we were made to be.’  Her body had moved closer to him, so close that he could feel her body’s warmth.  So close, that he felt himself swelling and his breath quicken, his mouth salivate, his hands quiver.
         ‘Tell me who you are.’
         ‘I am part of you.  I am the light inside.’
         ‘That tells me nothing.’ his voice had become a soft growl, a growl out of frustration, confusion and fear.  Her thigh was touching him now, his hardness started to pound.
         ‘I am the light side to your darkness, stranger.  I am Luna.’
         The fear inside him raged and the beast was a hairsbreadth from being loosed.  The reflection, the moons taunting stare had gone from the brook.  He realised too that the light around him no longer came from the moon in the sky, but the gentle glowing from this woman, this creature, this heavenly spectre. 
As he tried to step back, he realised she still had his hand, still had it pressed to his chest.  ‘We are the light and the dark souls, stranger.  I searched the hills and dales across the whole world for you.  Without you I am nothing more than a heartless stone.  Don’t you feel it?  Don’t you feel the pull?  Don’t you feel inside you what you want to do, to become?’
         ‘What will I become?’
         ‘Everything you want to be.’  Loved.  He wanted to be loved. 
         ‘You are already loved.’  Reading his thoughts again.  Those eyes, those sparkling midnight full moon eyes.  Such beauty and grace.  He could feel her wanting and it matched his own.
         Like the moon pulls the tides of the world, he moved to her.  The dark within him roared like a beast in chains as she wrapped her hands around his neck, pressing her abdomen to him, flexing her pelvis upwards.  She dropped a hand to his thigh and pulled him closer and with a groan, he pushed himself against her, suddenly feeling his body come alive with the sensation of his engorged member against the softness of her. 
His hands, now hooked and clawed gripped her shoulder, her neck and then, without softness, without gentleness, pulled her waiting mouth to his.  Her groans of pleasure filled him, overwhelmed him and at once she was off her feet, her back thrust against a tree, her legs wrapped around him and her moistness pressed hard against his eager form.
         Nothing existed now but her, not the cold harsh wind on his back, or the damp earth seeping into his clothes.  There was only her, his light, his power and strength, she who made his true power flow and she grasped at him with all the want and desire he had for her.  Her mouth never left his lips or flesh.  Her hands gripped and caressed his tightening body.  Her pelvis was hungry, wanting and insistent.
         He pulled her down, pulling her round so his weight came down on top her, pinning her to the soft cool earth.  She went willingly, grabbing at his clothes with a fury that only for a moment took him aback.  His naked chest revealed, she rose up and sunk her teeth into him enough that long raised marks appeared instantly.  The fire rose in him as the pain turned to elation.  He savoured the feel of her lips, her tongue demanding him.  Her legs had wrapped around him and he could feel her then push at his cotton trousers, trying desperately to unveil him.  At once he leaned up.  Her midnight eyes stared at him, her mouth slightly open as she panted for breath.  He then grabbed both her ankles and pulled her to him making her dress slide up to her waist.  Her softness was wrapped around him; her legs braced themselves onto his waist, crossing at his back.  He could wait no longer as he leaned down into her, taking her mouth violently in his.  His long canines bit at her and she could only moan the louder.  Her pelvis gyrated, demanding him, needing him.
         My light to my dark, he thought as he clenched his teeth and plunged his huge swollen member inside her. 
A cry of pain or ecstasy, he did not know, but she gripped him with such force to leave deep bruises.  Pausing for a moment, all realisation of who he was, what he was came to him, and through all his lusting and hunger, he looked beneath him and saw the woman he felt was within him all along.  Through all this hatred and self-loathing, hatred of the creature, the beast, he realised he hated that side of him that was waiting for her.  But there would be no more waiting.  She had found him, his light to his dark.
Her smile opened doors in his heart he thought broken and buried.  She extended her hand, gliding it over his face, his mouth, his neck and chest.  His organ, now deep inside her pumped with the blood summoned by the moon herself.  He lowered himself to her and they shared a kiss so passionate, so deep and loving, his head spun and left him gasping for breath.
His slow thrusts came and receded like the waves on a beach.  Every one was powerful, deep and glorious.
The ground was warm and comforting and he lay with his goddess, his light to his dark, naked, fulfilled and finally complete.
When finally she stirred she took his face in her hands.  Those midnight eyes looked within him, loving him for everything that he was.
‘Go now my love into your world and know that you are never alone.  I am always with you, shining on you even in your darkest hour.’  With the brightening of the morning sun, she disappeared.



Then…


The ball of white power glinted at him as the dark clouds moved overhead.  The dark night had come quickly and he moved sure-footed to a place of safety.  He found it within a deep cavernous forest, one which would seem uninviting to others, but not to the creatures of the dark.
‘Welcome to my garden stranger.’




The End