BLEEDING HEART | ONC 2024

012 - HIM

The memory of her skin will haunt me forever, I already know it. The salty yet sweet taste of it, its luster in the candlelight. The delicate scent of it, imprinted inside my nostrils.

And the way it felt as it rubbed up on me, sending shivers to tingle all my extremities.

Dru was a catch, a delicious one, and I had to let her go.

I'll never forget her, much as it terrifies me. The beauty of her as she slept, safe and sound, a gentle sunlight streaming in to bask her in a heavenly glow. Not that I know what heavenly looks like, but I can only assume it's...her. She's heavenly.

And the sound of her moans as I pleasured her; the vibrations of her voice remain stuck in my brain the farther I am from her.

It eats me alive to leave her like that—again—but it's part of the process. It's the way I'm supposed to do this, do my job. Enjoy her, then toss her out and watch her break down.

Sure, some would argue that if she woke in bed beside me, it might further her affection for me. If I let her grow more used to me, then rip us to shreds, it'd wound her more. Affect her more.

They're probably right, but I have my methods, my rules.

And anyway, doesn't absence make the heart grow fonder? That expression has swum in my mind since the moment I woke up in Bazroth's throne-room, what feels like forever ago.

But I've only been alive for a few weeks.

So I hope my absence is what will make Dru care for me, yearn for me more. That's the point, isn't it? To make her so desperate, to want me so badly that it breaks her on the inside? To make her crave me so much she'll cry, lament to all who listen, and infect them with her suffering?

Yes, it's my role to ruin her...but I still don't know if I like it. If I can digest it, allow myself to come to terms with it. If it's fair for me to take advantage of her this way.

I feel disgusting, most days; but today, after taking off, I feel worse.

She was so exquisite. Everything about her was a marvel to behold. Unreal. It's so evident she's not human, and while that should scare me, it only drew me in more every time I bumped into her.

Now...all I have are my recollections to keep me company. I won't bump into her again.

I wander the northern streets of Hazelvale—as far as possible from her southern tavern—and wait for my effect to take its hold. She'll wake soon, realize that I'm gone, and her emotions will brew up inside.

I imagine she'll be pissed, then sad, then lonely. I imagine she'll scream, cry, stomp around, maybe break a few things.

And then her heart will break when she understands...I'm not coming back.

When I was at the threshold of her room, whispering goodbye to her as she slept, it took all my might not to hurry back to her. Not to take her in my arms and squeeze her, remember every inch of her. Not to wake her with my tongue between her lower lips, taking in her early morning deliciousness.

I felt so dirty, taking my pleasure from her then disappearing.

But I had to. Have to. It's my mission, and I must complete it. I'd rather not die without giving my master what he's wanted for eons.

I snag a pastry from one of the bakeries, but it's not nearly as decadent as the ones I've eaten from places farther south. This thing—a tiny tart of some sort—is dry, a little too flaky, pasty in places. The fruit filling is too gelatinous, the flavor overwhelmingly sweet.