The Forsaken

Alone. All alone in the dark of night. Nothing but Dark, solitude and blood and me. That sweet red wine coloured elixir that gushes in torrents then flows through streams. A palpitating source drives through them, through me, the incarnadine cordial, this nourishing elixir that grants me life. Not life, but a semblance of life – existence.


Like a lover’s embrace I pull him close to me. I can hear his heart knocking against his ribs. My senses are heightened. I am elated. Entranced, he remains motionless while I long for a gentle caress. A word, a whisper. A mere veneer of affection is what I crave. But I am forsaken even that. I touch his hair and breathe in his beautiful, wonderful, magical odour. It fills my head and I feel giddy. I am spinning. My heart is aflutter – indeed all my senses are intermingled. I stroke the smooth planes of his cheek and feed myself with his radiant warmth. I rest my cheek next to his. Pasty white on delicious caramel cream. He has no clue. He is completely oblivious to my presence. I have no right to keep him in this trance but I can not resist touching him this one last time. I look into his eyes and see my reflection in the vivid green of his pupils. I am but a silhouette, a dark blemish in the perfect pattern of his eye. Tenderly, I close my eyes and lean forward to kiss his soft sweet lips.


Alone. All alone in the dark of night. Nothing but Dark, solitude and blood and me. A perforation of the green banks and the sacred elixir escapes. Reverently, I dab it on my crimson lips, tasting the hot, bitter, sweet vitality. My body is nourished, my mind tormented. Envy and gall churn my stomach. It sickens me – this sad middling state. Hungry, but satisfied. Alone, but surrounded by things. Real, but an unreal being. Alive, but dead.


I leave him as my power wears off. He will not remember our encounter, he will only arouse feeling content. Content as one feels content after waking from a pleasant dream, the details of which we can not remember, but the afterglow remains. His content feeling will slowly pass but I will forever carry with me that magical moment. The earthy undertones of his scent, the smooth feel of his skin under my callused hands, the exquisite green of his eyes are forever engraved in my memory. Always will I remember the sound of his heart beating and the rhythm of his breathing. The taste of his delectable lips on mine. And all the while I will remember, as one’s childhood haunts them throughout adulthood, the look on his face. The look of fear and horror upon seeing me. The disgust directed towards me as I appeared in front of him. And all the while, I carry with me the knowledge that he loathes me. This ugly putrid vision of a half-being.


Crimson drops


Scarlet stream


The incarnadine cordial


Forsakes me.