Sweet Dreams and Other Stories

Demon's Ambrosia

The room, if a large cavernous space of glowing black onyx could be called a room, was nearly empty. The only movement came from a lone man in the corner, huddled over in a tight ball, like some animal that had spent too much time in a tight cage. A soft whimpering could be heard from the lump, his voice as broken as the rest of his body.

A tall figure faded into view, like a specter from a long forgotten dream. This new figure was a sight to behold. Its gray skin was that of corpses, and its hair was as black as the wings of a raven. Two glowing emerald gems took the place of what should have been eyes.

“So, how did you like it,” the creature asked the cowering form on the floor. “Was it fun? The endless torment, the unending pain, day in and day out, year after year?”

The man did not answer, but continued to sob on the floor, his mind unable to come up with any words to lob back at the demon. The demon grinned at this, revealing two rows of sharp yellow teeth.

“Seeing as how much you liked, what kind of host would I be if I didn’t send you back?” He laid a gray skinned hand on the man’s shoulder.

Suddenly, the man sprang to life. He squirmed and shivered at the beast’s touch, his whole body alive with spastic attempts to get away.

“No! Don’t send me back there! Please, I’m begging you! I’ll do anything you want! Anything! Just don’t send me back there!”

The frantic pleas brought a gleam of delight into the demon’s eyes. He bent over, and placed his mouth near the poor soul’s ear.

“This is what I want,” the creature said. “Your misery is like a fine ambrosia, and your tears are a succulent wine.” With that, he chanted a few words, and the man disappeared, back to whatever nightmare he had just returned from.