Posession (A Dark Necro Story)

[Sonya]

Was going through some old stories and came across this one. This was found on the Usenet archives a long time ago, only story I ever found under this pen name.

I think it is a gem, very dark and moody.

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Possession
By: CuteFuzzyBunnies

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Possession

The air in the dank motel room was thick and cloying, reeking of the aftermath of death.

She lay upon the bed in death's languid repose, less than glamorous by any opinion. Once luminous skin was now painted in gradations of gray and purple by the blind hand of decay. Flies buzzed merrily about, feasting upon the dried blood that had pooled upon the cheap sheets from the deep gashes in her wrists.

He watched her, as he so often had, from a distance. Standing against the far wall, his dark clothing melded him into the deep shadows cast by the bare, solitary bathroom bulb. Only the light in his eyes stood out, pupils glowing with a dark luminescence as he looked upon her.

She had never understood him, his purpose, and his love. She saw only what her fears and preconceptions allowed her to see. That's why she always ran from him. Why she always went into hiding, changed her name, changed her appearance. She never understood his love for her.

Walking slowly towards the bed, boots heavy upon the bare wooden floor, he wondered how it had gone so wrong.

He loved her. He had told her so. He had explained to her how much his love meant, how rare and indeed impossible it was for him to love her in the way he did. Each time she only begged to be released, tearfully begged for mercy. Wasn't the fact that he always released her to run again sufficient evidence of his care, his understanding and compassion? When all he wanted to do in the world was take her in his arms and crush her into his being, to caress her spirit and make love to her soul?

All she did was run.

She knew she could never truly hide from him. He always found her, sooner or later. From the bright, callow chaos of Las Vegas, to the depths of the Old South. Even her mother's cabin in the wilderness. He always found her.

As he had found her here in this lowly place, this sewer with walls.

Above the bed, scrawled in blood she left her last words for him.

"You won't find me now!"

Walking to the bedside, he looked upon her and sighed, seeing only her beauty despite the decay. He loved her still, as he would forever. That is what she could never understand. His love was eternal.

As she would be.

Leaning down, he gently kissed her swollen lips, tasting her decaying tongue. With great care he pulled her eyelids open, revealing sunken, unfocused eyes.

"Hello, my beauty," he whispered, kissing her forehead before standing again. With slow precision he stripped away his clothing, revealing a perfect form, marred only by an odd tattoo on his shoulder.

Free of all clothing, he knelt upon the bed with her, sliding between her flaccid thighs. Staring into her lifeless eyes, he primed himself and slowly pushed into her, a burning spear thrust into cold meat.

"I told you that I would do anything for you," he whispered, slowly beginning to move within her while staring all the while into those listless eyes.

"And so I shall."

The bed began to move, slowly at first, as he thrust into her decaying womanhood. Soon the aged springs were protesting and the bed was quaking with his desire as he took possession of her lifeless form again and again, her sagging breasts quivering in gelatinous tremors.

With each thrust he began a guttural chant in an arcane tongue, the feral glow of his eyes pulsing brighter with each dark, powerful phrase.

Again and again he slammed into her, the chant growing louder and stronger until the windows rattled in reply.

At last he arrived, his member swelling and unleashing a torrent of fire into her womb as he poured himself into her with an unearthly bellow that shattered the windows and fractured the mirrors.

Those dead, listless eyes stirred, struggled to focus. His was the face they saw, inches from theirs, eyes aglow with infernal light.

"Now, you are mine." He said in half whisper and half growl, struggling for breath. "And now," he said, voice distant and slipping. "Now you know a demon's love."

From the throat of the dead woman came a choked, guttural scream as the form upon hers went limp and heavy in death.

Like an invalid trying to remember how to move, she fought her body and screamed at her limbs as they struggled to move again, slowly returning to life as the dark fire slowly pulsed through her veins. After a seeming eternity she was able to roll to one side and push the corpse from the bed. It fell unceremoniously to the floor, arms and legs at odd angles.

As if drunk she stood and swayed, reaching for something to steady her listing form, sending a lamp crashing to the floor in the attempt. Leaning against a wall, her fingernails dug grooves in the wood as she drew deep, thick breaths of air.

She looked at her arms, at her wrists. The deep gouges were gone, though the dried blood remained. The purpling splotches were fading as she watched. Within moments her skin returned to its natural pale luster.

Confident in her stability now, she walked to the edge of the bed and peered down upon the fallen form there, already in the later stages of decomposition.

The edges of her lips twitched. Something was rising within her. She giggled at first, reluctantly. Then giggled again, and soon began laughing.

"You bastard," she said through the laughter. "You pathetic Demon bastard!" She screamed with delight, tossing the soiled blankets around with glee. "I knew you'd do this," she crowed to the decaying corpse on the floor. "Didn't think I knew what you were? Thought I was that naive? Just a scared little girl with her Demon lover bemoaning his love for her?"

She laughed again as she opened a drawer, took out fresh clothing, and began to dress. She had so many plans and so much to do, now that she had all the time in the world.

"Uncle John was a priest, or didn't I mention that? An Exorcist, before being defrocked. He had such wonderful books, all about demons," she said, leaning down to smirk at the tattoo. "All about you, Guzrial."

"Now I have your essence," she said, standing to look triumphantly into the splintered mirror, smiling at the crimson glow within her eyes. "I have eternal life, without a love-struck demon with sulfur for breath barking at my heels like a pathetic puppy."

"Kiss kiss, lover," she said, blowing a sarcastic kiss to the corpse as she started for the door.

"Kisses for you as well, my sweet."

Whirling back, she looked at the corpse, now only a puddle of foulness upon the floor.

"What's wrong, little angel?"

She spun around again, madly looking about the room.

"Where are you," she screamed. "You can't be here! I have your Essence!"

"Ah, but I am here, my sweet. I'm here, with you."

With horror in her eyes she looked back to the mirror and held her hands to her ears, suddenly knowing where he was.

She screamed, and he laughed, as one.

[Nana Narcotic]

[cheeseface]

v creative, thanks