When The Stories In Between asked if I’d like to murder him, you’d think I’d be put-off, perhaps surprised, but instead, in my twisted mind, I was immediately picturing stabbing him over and over. hhhmmmm… Is this something I should share with you? Maybe not. But I just did anyway. Listen. He’s one of the most incredible authors out there. I am sincerely honored that he would choose to work with me and I hope this is the beginning of more “stories” to come (sorry Stories… I couldn’t resist).
I had finally fallen asleep, something which does not come easy for me. How did you get in? I didn’t even hear you, didn’t feel your approach. My chest erupts in a fountain of pain and confusion. My god, is that a knife, this can’t be happening, can’t be real. Please stop . . . don’t . . . not like this. I can’t die like this.
You looked so fucking peaceful there, my dear. Like a goddamned angel. In this darkness you’re perfect. Innocent. Let me free you from this bondage of the world, you deserve to fly the heavens once more. Through pain, your heart’s substance is released.
I have to admit, this really hurts. Our breath finds a rhythm as the knife plunges. I writhe and heave as I feel every inch, it enters so clean, splinters bone. There is a passion to this, you are really going to make this an experience for me, aren’t you?
The more you fight, the more beautiful you become in my eyes. Look! How easily my blade slides in, and out and in again. The fading embers in your eyes ignite my rapture. You, lying there, writhing. Don’t fight this, my darling. Let me absorb your pain, my pleasure. Oh! You’re perfect. You’re doing wonderful.
They say at the end, your life will flash before your eyes. I don’t see or feel anything except the cold realization of the blade, over and over, in and out. There’s a growing numbness but once in a while the knife hits something, just right, and the pain explodes all over again. I can’t even see your face but I feel your eyes watching mine. Am I your first or have you shared this with others? Why did you choose me? Am I something special to you or nothing more than a random stranger with an unlocked door? It’s strange, but in a way, this is the closest I have ever felt to anyone.
Oh! You look so provocative lying there beneath me, grappling my hands, clothed in beautiful red skin, becoming weaker, clarity overtaking your addled mind, breath in gasps and sighs. Reach for peace, my love. I’ll meet you on the other side. No more screaming. No more calling out. Hush now, lover. I’m here: I’m all you’ll ever need. All you’ll ever want. Come to me.
Uhh, that taste, metallic, gurgling in my throat, out my mouth, down my chin and neck, pooling beneath the back of my head. I can’t move. It was dark before but nothing like this. I still hear you breathing . . . so calm, so cold. I understand now and it’s okay. It’s okay, I forgive you. Will you forgive me? Just please, don’t walk away, don’t leave me, not yet. I don’t want to die alone. Please, give me that, share this with me till the end.
mmmm… tasting you on my lips: it’s divinity sublime. Drinking your life’s very essence from your mouth. In this, your last moments, we have become one. Pure, genuine unity. My tongue laps you up, sliding across your teeth, sucking your last breaths down into my own lungs. Yes, we are one, you and I. Exactly how it was always meant to be.
God damn, so this is how it feels.
The Stories In Between & tara caribou | ©️2018