Series: But We Awake 
Author: Kol

3rd Reverie
 

Midnight

I couldn’t bring myself to throw-away her lingerie.

 Only holy-water could’ve quenched the flames.

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     Dream, after taking a nap, had been woken-up around Midnight; the creep had his hand on her thigh. She said she had it under control, but yesterday, she let it slide.

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     Midnight, was he the prince of darkness, or had I been deceived by his horns? Like Moon before him, he was an artist; seduction, his art form: Corruption, his masterpiece. Beauty, all that could be perceived, when he hid his teeth.

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     Dream’s ethereal exterior, paired with her honey-coated pheromones, made her seem as candy; a treat to be unwrapped and grasped by the handful.

     Midnight crept closest when her emotions were unstable, sucking her into fantasy with romantic candle-speech. Whispers and hushed-tones by the fireplace, whisked awkward-silence to bed.

     Silk-linen and fine-wines, made most people agreeable.   Never did I imagine, that Dream could be glamoured.

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     The scent of rose-pedals and bathwater, ever so sweet; it welcomed me home, and weakened my knees. As I opened the door, Dream didn’t walk, she sailed, all of her unveiled; inhibitions lifted.

     Something was different. She’d become a reflection of Midnight; darker, more sensual.   

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     With slick-textured-rhetoric Midnight undressed Dream, stripping her of intelligence.

     He bent her ear, and bit her neck.     

     Death had become Dream, and turned her against me.

     I didn’t know how to turn her back, so I prayed; as Midnight, preyed.

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     Nocturnal, as his name would suggest, Midnight arose as the sun found rest. Darkness, the perfect cover, to find love where it wasn’t; in lovers.

      Prowling, he made his rounds, thru a landscape where impulse abounds. The way that Electric cared for attention, Midnight had a thirst for ascension; craving praise.

     Lust was worship. 

     He filled them with passion, only to drink them dry.

     Never was he satisfied.

     What a tragedy, to be so empty.

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     Mirrors failed to show who he was. With self-esteem being his currency, he found it in blood. He would lie, and then wait to be trusted, while licking his bicuspids.

     Safe is how he played; playful, as if danger were a game.

     And so, he went about feasting.

     He and Dream, sleepless.

     The night beckoned.

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     Many moons the lingering-gloom grew too long in the tooth, until one day, dawn began waving.

     He and Dream, they’d lost track of time, being lost in desire.

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     So as to not be seen, they clung to the shade. Any illumination from the suns-rays could sizzle them to cinder. It blazed as they tried to escape it, covering their faces with make-shift masks. They were monstrous, leaving claw marks on everything they grabbed.

     Scratching and cutting, making it seem as though everyone were ugly; as ugly as they’d become. They fought shame, taking life like otherwise their very lives would be taken from them; their survival was at stake.

     I could’ve forgiven their past-transgressions.

     I did everything to save Dream, from yesterday. 

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     Dawn was upon them, the scorch of her revelation lurking behind blinds and windows. One sharp-tug would be enough to pull the rug from under them, just one sharp-tug, and they’d turn to ash.

     These night-terrors couldn’t last.

     I lashed-out; whipping the blinds-down ripped my heart in-half.

     Now, there was only me;

     No more Dream.

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