Waking [fiction]

a story by Skylar

The fog was warm, and dark. There was no sound, no light, no sense of my surroundings. The thick air flowed over my skin, caressing me, keeping me suspended in what might have been sleep. Was I asleep? I wasn’t sure, and it didn’t much matter. I took a slow breath, enjoying the comforting nothing holding onto me.

Suddenly a point on my upper back lit into a burning sensation, then started to drip downward. I gasped and my eyes flew open. There was nothing but blackness in front of me, a mystery beyond a wall of light that grew from a circle of candles at my feet. They were without holders, supported on the concrete floor by large puddles of their own wax.

I tried to put a hand on my back, where the burning was continuing on a slow, excruciating path down the right side of my spine, but my hand wouldn’t obey me. Neither would the other hand, and when I tried to bend forward, the floor refused to come any closer. I could turn my head just far enough to see my arms outstretched to my sides, thick black stripes around my wrists and upper arms. Whatever I was fastened to was hidden by the shadow of my own body.

The drop of fire on my back took a detour to my ribs, stopped momentarily, then began again in a different direction. With a great effort I managed to curve my spine and shift to the side a little bit.

“Don’t move.” The voice was right in my ear, and I started.

“What -” I said, and was immediately cut off by a hand over my mouth. “Mmf. Hm!”

“Shhh.” His hand gripped tighter, pressing my lips into my teeth. “If you move, I can’t finish my work.”

I looked sideways, but couldn’t turn my head far enough to see him. “Hm.”

“Are you going to be a good girl and hold still?”

I nodded.

“Good.” His hand came off my mouth, and I took a deep breath as the fiery point made itself known on my left shoulder blade. It traveled at a leisurely pace across my upper back, made a turn on my right shoulder blade, crossed my spine on a downward angle, and slithered down to the center of my sacrum, where it faded away. The trail it left glowed hot in my skin. Soothing warmth spread downward from the searing lines, and I enjoyed it for a moment before it was overpowered by a new journey starting at my neck.

I tried to make sense of the patterns forming on my back, but couldn’t construct an image I recognized. Lost in following the trails, alternately wincing as the lines formed and then reveling in the warming glow they left, it took me several moments to realize it had stopped.

Peeling my eyes open again, I drew in a sharp breath when I found his face a centimeter from mine. I don’t know how I hadn’t felt him breathing on my lips.

He smirked as I drew his face into focus, and his eyes narrowed into an expression that spoke of dark ideas. A shiver went down my spine and between my legs.

His lips parted, and I opened my mouth to return the kiss, but my tongue was met with metal. The warm, smooth surface was topped with a razor-sharp edge. He drew the blade slowly between our tongues, and the metallic taste mingled with that of my own blood. My heartbeat quickened; I could feel his tongue over the edge of the knife, but didn’t dare move any closer.

After a long moment the edge shifted, and then the tip drew away, leaving only an impression of itself. The blade gone, our tongues melted together, and I tasted sweat alongside the blood. Then he stepped away and disappeared.

“Aiden?” I whispered. One of the candles guttered and went out, and I realized it wasn’t the first. The darkness flowed over me again, and I sank into the fog.