Dark Love

By Philip Lear

 

 Though she didn’t remember driving there, she was sitting in her car on a deserted street watching him coming towards her. He looked handsome with straight black hair and a strong chin. His face was thin and his skin pale.  He was wearing jeans, a turtleneck and a long black leather coat. The street was still wet from the rain and when she first saw him, she again felt the terror couldn’t help herself. She got out of her car to meet him and when their eyes met she could feel the electricity passing between them. There were no illusions no words spoken. Words were unnecessary because they both understood.

          It wasn't a personal introduction or even a face-to-face encounter that brought them together. It was a large gray envelope with a photo inside.  She was drawn to the picture. It was those eyes. They were like swirling black pools.  When she first looked into them she felt the terror but held her ground. She wasn’t one to be easily intimidated and didn't look away. But the more she looked at them the deeper she went into those pools. She was lost in velvet darkness. Later, when she tried to look away, she couldn’t.              

They sped out of town in his car driving past frozen fields and lakes and up into the woods. When he put his hand over hers she could feel his incredible lust surging through his veins. It made her breath deeply. As they drove further she could see a blur of spruce trees that were so beautiful, so elegant all covered with snow and sagging from the weight. It was a perfect winter scene. Now they were heading north into the mountains and the snow was replaced by ice. The trees along the road looked like delicate crystal sculptures frozen in time. She imagined herself a ballerina in this frozen world dancing among the trees.  

In the distance she saw a great stone mansion on top of the mountain. It looked like an enormous rock standing out against the gray sky and as they approached it loomed even larger taking on awesome proportions.

            He picked her up and carried her inside and slowly up a huge rough carved staircase. As he carried her, she noticed these magnificent animal skins hanging from the walls. They had a translucent look to them and were painted with beautiful intricate artistic patterns in the most vivid of colors.  They were so magnificent that when she looked at them she had to catch her breath. She’d never seen artistic creations like this anywhere else. 

Upstairs he laid her on a thick rug in front of the fire.  The walls were paneled in rich mahogany and there were large carvings of eagles and hawks in the corners of the room. On the walls were mounted the heads of hunting trophies and over the fireplace was a brown bear’s head. When she looked up at it, it seemed as though the bear was looking back at her with his big sad eyes trying to tell her something. What was he trying to say? 

Although the fire was already roaring he added even more logs and now, as the new logs ignited, the fire took on a life of its own as it grew to menacing proportions.  The flames were shooting out uncontrollably, creeping closer to where she lay as though they were going to devour her. The logs crackled and the cinders flew in every direction. As the fire moved closer, she was aroused by its fury and she lay there waiting to be consumed. 

He stood before her with the glow of the fire behind him and when he looked down at her she could feel his desire. They undressed and lay there holding each other.  She felt incredible warmth as he stroked her neck and then her back. With each stroke she felt their deep closeness growing. It was as though she was becoming a part of him.

She watched him as he pulled out his knife. It was thin and sharp and as he moved it, the blade flashed in the glow of the fire. He made these fine incisions along her belly slowly, gently, gracefully one at a time, creating the most magnificent pattern. With each cut he made she was thrilled as a new shiny red line was born.  He was the artist and she his canvass. Together they were creating something of profound beauty. As the last drops of blood left her body, she felt this unimaginable sense of oneness.