Ascensionism

II: The Offering

~ Vessel ~

I spend the next few days in a hotel room in what feels like a fever dream.

I'm starving.

I'm frustrated.

I'm confused.

I'm scared.

My skin has been stained a shade darker than pitch, and, if I look at it from the right angle, I can sometimes see what remind me of stars and galaxies. But it must be a trick of the light.

My body changes — my bones crack and rearrange, and I wonder if anyone in this place can hear my screams. My whimpers of pain and pleasure. I've always been tall, but I seem to grow just a little bit more.

When I remove the bandages on my arms, I find nothing but scars that look several years healed. They are smooth beneath my fingers: Slightly raised and almost hidden by my new skin. They are a connection to who I was before.

My teeth sharpen, and I cut my tongue on my new fangs.

Energy pulses through my body. I feel as though I could punch through a stone wall. I could tear the world apart and still not be tired.

I cut myself. Stab myself. Disembowel just to see how far I can go. Nothing kills me. Nothing leaves me dying and bleeding out. I enjoy the blood. I love the violence.

Sleep leaves me to my own devices. And, while my head is by no means silent, I have nothing to torment me. Nothing to drive me past the path of reason.

The woman — I learn her name is Isobel — visits me, bringing me clean clothing and food. I have dark fantasies and desires that swirl around her.

Soon my love, Sleep's voice is seductive. I love it when They call me that. It feeds some sort of festering sore within me, healing it little by little. I'll do anything to hear Them say that they love me. Only me.

As I fade in and out of consciousness, They whisper to me, take bites out of me. I want to be swallowed whole. The only time I feel truly safe, is in Their presence.

I need you.

I know, They answer. You're mine.

Say you love me.

Of course I do, vessel.

In my dreams, I make violent love to Sleep. Part of me knows I'm being used. That I'm only here to satisfy something within Them. But I couldn't care less. I only have meaning in my life when I'm with Them. All time spent by myself, I cease to exist.

They eat my eyes, my heart, my soul. Stroke my cheek lovingly. Speak of glory and golden days ahead. If only I hold on a little while longer.

It's almost a month after They claimed me that I come to the Sacrifice. The Offering.

No amount of food will satisfy me. No amount of sexual stimulation can sate my ever growing appetite. I'm gluttonous, and when my God comes to me, I'm a ravenous beast. I can smell life and blood.

I want to snuff it out.

When I wake, I'm in a forest. All around me is darkness, and it's a comfort. I can feel Sleep pressing in on my mind, digging Their claws in deeper and deeper.

I'm naked. I'm cold and shivering.

There are stars above me, and my skin takes on a strange quality that almost mirrors the cosmos above me.

Tonight is the night that you become truly mine.

I am yours. I tell Them, confused.

A smirk.

You're blind, vessel. Tonight, you will see the truth.

Fire erupts around me, and I'm standing in a wide ring of it. The forest around me is burning, and it's a beautiful sight. The moon above me is a deep crimson.

Excitement vibrates through my body.

My smile is monstrous and twisted. Isobel is standing two hundred feet from me. Kneeling beside her, is a woman. She's beautiful, though I can only see parts of her face — her full lips, the tears the shimmer down her jaw... she's naked like me, though her skin is perfect and unmarked.

I don't need to be told what to do.

I need to leave my humanity behind. Then I can fully embrace the role that Sleep wants me to play.

Then I can be truly Theirs. Forever and always.

As I saunter over to my prey, I hum under my breath, my fingers flexing and tapping against my thigh: Some sort of rhythm or barely there melody that's soothing.

I can smell her, and it's intoxicating. My head spins and swims. My heart beats faster in my chest, and it's like when I woke from death, I can't seem to get enough air into my bloodstream.

Isobel hands me a blade when I stop in front of her. It's perfectly balanced in my hand.

The girl whimpers, and I kneel in front of her. The rational, quieter part of my brain doesn't want her to be afraid. But the demon inside wants to taste her demise.

That is the only thing that will satisfy me.

Removing her blindfold, she stares at me with fearful eyes. I kiss and lick away her tears. "It's okay, Love." I breathe, burying my nose in her hair.

And then I strike.

Her blood stains my body by the time I'm finished, and my belly is full. I'm lying in the grass, breathing deeply, trying to keep my hands from shaking. They rest on my stomach, tapping out the rhythm from before.

You did beautifully. Sleep tells me. How did she taste?

Like sugar, is my answer. Like Heaven.

What do you desire?

Just you. Never leave.

Not as long as you serve me.

Their love is all I need. I tell Them that, but Sleep is gone for the moment. Isobel has disappeared, as well. And I'm alone once again.

Something aches inside me.

Something so familiar it hurts.

A small pang of loneliness.

I've spent weeks alone, with Sleep sporadically with me. With Isobel coming periodically to see me. I can't have a meaningful conversation with her; she just wants to talk about her devotion.

She's not like me. Not an acolyte. Not a vessel that Sleep can fill. She's just a worshipper.

And that makes me feel alone.

I may not be human, but that doesn't mean that I'm numb, though part of me wishes to be. I long to be devoid of anything.

Anything to get me to Sleep.

Anything to make Them want to stay.

Curling into a ball on the forest floor, I begin to weep.