Broken Hearted Lullaby
In my heart's sequestered chambers
Lie truths stripped of poets' gloss
Knock. Knock. Knock.
William hastily wiped away the angry tears. "What do you want?" he snapped at the door. There was no reply, so William dismissed it, pouring himself another glass of brandy. He sat down in his chair, staring out at the night sky as scenes from his horrific evening replayed themselves in his mind.
"I could never marry a thing like you!"
"You are a disgrace, William. Go home."
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"What the devil do you want?" he shouted, glaring at the wood of his door angrily. Again, no answer, but the knocks continued on; sharp, evenly spaced knocks, beating in tandem with his broken heart. Grumbling, William got to his feet, stalking over to the door and wrenching it open, growling, "Will you leave me alo…"
The angry words died in his throat as his eyes took in the vision before him. The darkly beautiful woman standing on his doorstep was elegantly dressed in black brocaded lace, diamonds sparkling from her ears. Her face was pale, with high cheekbones and full red lips, framed by locks of deepest ebony.
But it was her eyes that held him prisoner. Her wide, pale eyes that seemed to shimmer with ancient wisdom, yet glittered with childlike innocence. Those eyes seemed to bore into his soul, wrench his darkest secrets from his heart, and lay them out for the world to see. These were eyes one could willingly drown in, he realized, swallowing convulsively.
The woman cocked her head to the side, silently staring at him. Remembering his angry words, he spluttered, "Forgive me for speaking so rudely, madam, I-"
"You are angry." She said simply; not asking, merely stating a fact. Her voice was musical, lilting and whimsical, as if she found awe in such a simple act as speech. "Your heart has been hurt. I felt it when you touched me."
He stared, trying to remember through the haze of despair that had clouded his mind as he had run home. "I…I crashed into you, didn't I?" he realized at last, embarrassed and ashamed. "I apologize, madam, I meant no direct offence-"
"You left this behind." She said, producing a tiny, leather bound book from the folds of her dress. William felt rage bubble up from inside at the very sight of it.
"That," He spat harshly, glaring at the embodiment of his love for Cecily, remembering every word written on its pages with pain and grief, "is nothing."
The woman blinked at him, shocked. "This is beauty." She insisted, appalled, clutching the book to her breast as though to protect it from his acidic words. "How can you trivialize such a wondrous work?"
And my soul finds primal eloquence
And wraps me in song
"You…you read it?" he asked, a flush creeping up his neck to his face. She nodded, her fingertips caressing the worn leather lovingly.
"In all my years, I have never read such exquisite feeling, such primal eloquence." She breathed, awed. "Your words outshine the stars, and the entire world fell silent as I read. Tell me, who is she? Does she not appreciate your devotion to her, your absolute adoration?"
"No, she does not." He said, bitterly. The woman looked surprised.
"Does she know of this?" she asked, glancing at the book, "You should not be ashamed, any mortal would have to be a fool to not-"
"She's read it." He snapped, interrupting her. "She simply doesn't care."
The woman gasped, sounding horrorstruck. "Is that why your heart grieves so?" she whispered, "Do you grieve over a pathetic creature who does not understand the gift of your love?"
"I…" he could find no words; he wasn't even sure there were words to find. As he searched for his voice, he realized with a flash of shame that they were conversing so publicly in the doorway to his flat, and the woman was standing in the dingy, dirty hallway. "Would…would you like to come in?" he stammered. The woman smiled, entering his apartment at once, looking around curiously.
"Apologies, madam," he said, taking in the mess of his home. She smiled.
"It's quite alright." She said absentmindedly, walking over to his window and gazing up at the bright full moon. William's breath was snatched away instantly; the woman glowed in the pale bright light of the moon, looking like a goddess…or some kind of dark angel.
"Do you like the night?" she asked suddenly, startling William. "I used to hate it, but I've changed. Now the night is mine to love." She turned to William, her eyes gleaming. "Would you like that, William?"
"W-What?" he stammered, unsure of what she was asking. She moved closer to him, her eyes still gleaming eerily.
"Would you like to change?" she asked, backing him up against his wall. "Would you like to lose all that you are and become everything that you are not?" She licked her lips, staring him up and down. "I could help you, William. I could give you new life; everything you've ever dreamed of and more." She leaned closer, so close that William could feel her cool breath against his face, his eyes fluttering shut as he relished the sensation. "Would you like that, William?"
He swallowed, trying to think through the sudden haze of desire. "I…uh…" he stuttered dumbly, intoxicated by the scent of her hair. "I-I think I would." He murmured at last.
The woman beamed, her smile so bright and wondrous that the moon itself dimmed in comparison. "I'd hoped you'd say that." She breathed, her lips brushing against his as he spoke, "It's time you learned to take what you wanted."
'Oh dear God…' he thought, his knees threatening to buckle from his need. He heard her giggle quietly, before the tips of her lacy fingers trailed across his cheekbone.
"What do you want, William?" she asked, and he answered before he could think.
Touch in me, all love and passion
Touch in me, grief and comfort
And pain and pleasure
The woman smiled again, against his lips, and his answering moan was swallowed by her greedy lips as she claimed his mouth in a soul-wrenching kiss. He gripped her arms, not to stop her, heaven forbid, but to have something to anchor him on earth. Her kiss awakened him; he felt alive, more alive than he could ever remember.
She made a sound of displeasure, breaking the kiss and looking at him reproachfully. "I want you to have what you want, my pet." She whispered, her hands gripping his collar and jerking him closer to her, "Take what you want, and the world becomes yours to take."
He swallowed, licking his lips and tasting her on them. "Are you sure?"
"Are you?" she asked, taking his hands and placing them on her waist. "Go on, my sweet. Take. Don't ask, just…take."
He groaned, the last vestiges of his control fading at long last. 'Good riddance', he thought bitterly as he crushed the slight woman to him, his mouth hungrily devouring hers as she wriggled and purred in delight. 'Who needed a fucking conscience anyway?'
"Yes…" the woman hissed as he turned her around, roughly slamming her body against the wall as he licked his way down her neck, biting gently and loving the way she arched and gasped every time he did so. "That's my sweet…" she murmured, letting her tongue trace the curve of his ear. His eyes nearly rolled back into his head as her mouth moved down his own neck, kissing and nipping in the most delightful way. He eagerly tilted his head to the side, encouraging her without words.
"Are you ready, my sweet?" she breathed. He nodded madly, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to, but knowing that he wanted it all the same.
"Yes," he breathed, panting slightly, delirious with lust and need, "Yes, yes, yes. I want…I want…want."
"Shh." She whispered, stroking his hair comfortingly as her mouth hovered over his throbbing pulse. "You will have everything you want, my sweet. Everything and more."
And then she bit him.
Words alone are vain and vacant
And my heart is mute
He cried out in shock as the sharp points of her teeth broke through the skin with ease, clutching her arms tightly. But she murmured wordlessly to him, her hand caressing the skin on the back of his neck, and he was comforted. Slowly, ever so slowly, he felt his body grow weak, but felt no fear. This strange woman had promised him everything, had pieced together his shattered heart, and he felt he could spare her some trust.
Finally, when he felt darkness creeping up on him, threatening to consume him, she stopped, lifting her head from his neck and smiling at him with blood stained lips.
"Now, my pet…" she sang happily, her finger trailing across her chest, a line of blood appearing under razor sharp nails, "Drink. Drink, and the world is yours."
He allowed her to press his face against the line of blood. The coppery taste was strange, unfamiliar, and he tentatively pressed his tongue against the wound. As he swallowed, he was astounded to find the taste changing in his mouth, metallic tangs replaced with delicious vanilla creaminess that he simply couldn't get enough of. He drank greedily, lapping at the blood like his life depended on it, which he had a suspicious feeling that it did.
It was the last thing he tasted before darkness utterly consumed him, and his world faded away into the night.
Sing me…to you