A Dream of Carcosa:
On some nights I would dream of Carcosa.
My mind and soul slip free from their corporeal bindings and wander amongst the stars, dancing freely in the emptiness.
Then I am no longer in a familliar place.
I stand now in the ruins of a civilization now long forgotten. Empty archways stand in shells of buildings, some of the stonework still grasps desperatly to hold onto it's former grandeuar with flecks of colours; light blues and bright golds, still hold to what would once have no doubt been marvelous frescoes. Tattered rags of fine silk drapes still clung stubbornly to the rusted hooks that had held them aloft.
This had once been a ballroom, now it was a cold, empty space.
Dust coated every surface, every footstep I took churned the particles in the thick air until I sneezed loudly, disturbing the heavy silence that I dared not break until it was forced upon he to do so.
Why I chose to freeze in fear after those moments is something I cannot explain...
Was it as though I had disturbed the lair of some sleeping beast?
A chandelier, formed from gold and crystal, had collapsed ontop of a large stone banquet table, splitting it directly down the middle.
I speak of this as though it had happened right before me, but no, it had occured countless centuries before me...
A mask rested close to the split, covered in mottled feathers and patterened, faded gold. I blew the dust off, taking it from it's resting place. For a moment, I could feel the ghosts of the past, dancing and partying in a drunken revelry. Through the eyes of the mask I could see them, the ballroom in it's radiant splendor.
A tall regal figure strode through the crowds, gloved hands tenderly stroking the faces and necks of the dancers he passed. They loved the masked king... Leaning into his touch and looking disheartened once he had passed.
My hand reached out to take his as he approached. Upon realising this, the illusion broke. I pulled the mask from my face, the dancers vanished and ballroom returned to ruin.
The King in Yellow remained.
It was difficult to describe his scent; somewhere between fresh mint, chocolate, and pustulent rot. My breath hitched as he reached to take the mask from his face- should I look away? Lest I witness horrors unbearable?- The pale, pallid mask was taken away to reveal the golden tan of unmarred skin. The small smile he had made me forget how to breathe...
He pulled the regal hood back, shaking out the silky blonde hair that brushed his shoulders and cascaded down his back. Those soft golden eyes looked right into me, his whole face... Was a stunningly handsome image.
My knees trembled, weak.
He was beyond handsome.
The small smile grew wider.
'...I...' The mask slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor.
He strode closer, softly brushing the left side of my face with a hand.
The King in Yellow's hand moved down to trail two fingers along my neck, the soft feathers of his crimson wings ruffled lightly.
He seemed to glow with a golden aura, a finger against my lips silenced my trembling voice. Still he said nothing, as was his way... He never does.
I recall trembling from head to toe, whimpering softly as he leant in closer, brushing his lips against my cheek, soft tongue flicking out and licking lightly.
I was only silenced by his lips moving to rest against my own.
This was most unexpected. I assure you.
Time held no bearing as the world continued to silently rot around us.
You'd think he'd be a terrible kisser. But he proved me wrong. I lost myself in his embrace, inhaling that strong- wonderful scent and feeling his soft, silky hair.
The ghost of past dancers continued, unaware of us.
His passion was an incredible aphrodisiac. Though the King In Yellow said nothing, his wants were clear.
Dance with me...
He seemed pleased with our dance, soft kisses and hugs.
Ha, I assure you that had he not been, we would not be having this conversation.
One day, I'll return to Carcosa.
One day, I'll see him again.
We will party and dance...
And I will fade away in his arms...