Princess Of Darkness (Editing)

One: The Escape (Edited)

Desire. It was one of the deepest, most intense emotions we could feel, wired into not just our minds or our hearts, but our entire being, consuming us wholly and leaving us broken. It could attach itself to anything, manifesting itself as any form, tempting us with the idea of something greater, something more fulfilling, something that was out of reach and untouchable.

Desire could drive us to be greater versions of ourselves, or, it could evade us altogether and leave an intense craving within us, gaping like a septic wound, devouring us until we were nothing more than the withered shells of what could have been.

Desire was something that held me captive, teasing me, consuming me every night when I went to sleep, twisting itself in my mind, conjuring up images of a place I burned to see, a place I didn't know, a place that couldn't possibly exist. Yet I found myself gazing at it night after night.

I was there again, in that place of fire and stone, looking down at an army of demons so terrifying that I had to squeeze my eyes shut to make them go away. I could still hear the sound of their marching, even from my vantage point, perfectly synchronised with the pounding of my heart.

Stone walls surrounded me, covered in bright tapestries and vivid paintings, bookshelves and an assortment of other homely, comfortable furniture dotted throughout the room. It was like nothing I'd ever seen before, yet, it was so familiar at the same time, so comforting.

Even though the room was huge, I could still feel the heat coming from the fire burning at one end, opposite the four poster bed. It was just to the left of where I stood, gazing out one of the many windows in the north facing wall, below the crystal chandelier secured way above my head.

I wasn't alone in the room, though. Someone was watching me, just a few paces to my right. I knew immediately who it was, without even turning, because, every time I found myself here, in this room, he would be there, too.

It was the man with red eyes, as beautiful as he was terrifying, the embodiment of everything I feared, yet desired.

He was standing just out of reach, eyes burning into my own. If I wanted to, I could reach my hand out and touch him, but I never would.

I knew what would happen next, I'd seen it almost every single night for as long as I could remember.

The red eyed man would draw breath to speak, holding out his hand to me, the slow, deliberate movement enticing, seductive, without even meaning to be. Inside me would be a yearning so strong, his allure calling to me so loudly that it would feel like my heart was breaking...

I jerked awake suddenly, the remnants of my dream fading as reality swept me up in it's awful embrace once more, realising that the bus had come to a halt. Outside the window was a place I'd never seen, not a trace of the city I'd come from on the horizon. I stood up from my seat, blinking away the last fragments of my dream as I slung my backpack over my shoulder, and stepped out onto the street.

I watched the bus pull away from the curb, contemplating my next move. I'd gotten this far on my own, leaving behind the city that I'd lived in. The fact that I had gotten away at all was a small victory for me. But now I was afraid, not sure what to do next.

I was beginning to think I'd made a mistake by running. Things would be so much worse, now that I'd left.

I rubbed my eyes, feeling suddenly exhausted, fatigue gnawing at me as the impending sence of doom had chased me this whole way.

My left eye was tender, still, the throbbing a painful reminder of the fresh bruises that had caused it to swell half way shut.

Trying not to think of what I'd left behind me, I quickly made up my mind.