the night

You shouldn’t be here. You know that.

But you are here and it’s too late to turn back. Your searing blood is pounding in your head… your thundering heart seems ready to leap out of your chest…your resolve is threatening to fail you at any given instant.

The night is silent…nary a creature stirring in the impassive moonlight…the night is damp and thick and hungry…your fear is a palpable thing…your courage is waxing and waning with each wary, hopeful step…you shouldn’t be here…you know that…and yet here you are…

The breathing…steamy, pungent, casually edacious, filled with unnerving concupiscence…startles you without being a true surprise…you knew it was coming…you prayed it wasn’t coming…it was the reason you pushed past rationality and came out into the dead of the still night.

You had to know. You had to come here. The breathing envelopes you and you curse yourself, a fool.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Your throat is as starkly arid as the Sahara and yet you are still somehow able to croak out a reply. “I know. But I had to come. I had to know.”

“And now you do.”

You swallow hard. You fight back tears. You wonder if there is some bargain to be made. You silently plead for the intercession of a god you have long ignored. You close your eyes as the darkness touches you and draws you in. You shouldn’t be here. “I just wanted to know.”

“And now you do.”

You don’t have time to scream.

And the night…damp and thick and a bit less hungry than before…goes silent again.