Dark Desire

2

Filler chapter. I promise that better stuff is coming. ;)

2

She awoke to filtered sunlight attempting to peek through the opaque black curtains that adorned the windows of her bedroom. How had she gotten back to bed? Her head pounded, her memories were groggy. Groaning softly, Amanda shoved her face into the comfort of her pillow. The moment she did, a strong flash image of her laying back against the kitchen table as Pennywise knelt between her spread knees caused a bolt of heat to travel up her spine. Tossing the covers aside, she rushed to the bathroom with it's full length mirror hanging behind the door. She closed it swiftly and tilted her leg just enough to see if the pain she felt at her inner thigh was real or simply a figment of her imagination.

Dried blood clung to her pale skin in red-brown patches, flaking off anytime she moved. It wasn't from her period. She had just gotten over than last week. No, there was too much of it for that. With steady hands, she grabbed a clean wash cloth that had been neatly folded beneath the sink and ran it under the hot water. Carefully, she dabbed at the dried blood, starting from the bottom and working her way up. The instant those damp fibers touched the inside of her right thigh, she hissed in pain. Taking her time, she dabbed at the wounds a little more tenderly, watching in the mirror as deep lacerations were uncovered. There had to be over a hundred of them, forming a wide oval. In the center of it was an intricately drawn rune that Amanda could not place the origin of, nor translate. She carefully touched the rune with her index finger. At that simple contact, a violent flash of someone else's thoughts bombarded her mind. She cried out and fell to her knees, clutching almost painfully tight at her temples.

Thinking of me, Precioussss?

At the sound of that voice, Amanda jumped, turning to look behind her. This time, she was alone.

The Clown chuckled in her thoughts.

I have bound you to me. This enables you to summon me should you need me at any time. Even during my long rest. You can also speak directly to my mind.

She stood slowly on shaky legs, her fingers gripping onto the edge of the sink for support. The mirror above the sink came slowly into her line of vision. But what stared back at her was not her reflection. It was Pennywise.

"I can not involve you in my hunting. There are those that seek to desssstroy meeee."

Tentatively, she reached out, letting her fingertips touch the edge of the cool glass. It was solid and the image of the Clown never wavered. What surprised her most, however, was when he reached out on his side of the mirror and placed his hand against the glass almost mirroring hers. Her gaze shot up from their hands to his face, searching for some kind of answer to her unspoken question.

"I would not ssseeee you harmed, Preciousss."

Without warning, the image of Pennywise vanished. He did not want to see her harmed? From what? Hadn't he said that there were people out there that wanted to destroy him? But who were they? More questions with no answers.

With a groan of frustration, Amanda ran the palms of her hands over her face and moved to the shower. She drew back the curtain and nearly screamed when she saw a single red balloon floating there. With a faint chuckle, she grabbed a hold of the string. The minute her skin touched it, the balloon turned. Scrawled on the front of it in elegant black lettering were two simple words:

No touching.

As soon as her eyes took in those words, the balloon popped, showering the bathtub with hundreds of rick dark rose petals that were such a deep red they were nearly black. What had he meant by no touching?

Yourselffff.

Came his growling reply in her mind.

A blush crept up the back of her neck at his words. Ignoring the embarrassment, she turned the water on as full and as hot as she could stand it. She pulled the drain up on the tub, letting it fill with steaming water. The dark rose petals floated along the surface. They reminded her of drops of blood along the water. As if on que, the wound at her thigh began to leak, faint crimson lines painting her pale skin. It was certainly going to scar and she found herself uncaring that she even had it to begin with. It still surprised her that Pennywise was actually real and not just a fictional character made up by one of the most brilliant masters of horror.

Amanda stripped carefully, ensuring that she didn't aggravate the wound before she stepped into the hot bath. Carefully, she lowered herself down into the water, hissing when she submerged her thigh. Blood tinted it a very faint and subtle pink as she lounged back against the white cast iron. With a deep breath, she lowered herself under the surface, enjoying the weightless floating feeling. Was this what it had felt like when those children floated down in Pennywise's subterranean chamber? Was there any feeling for them at all or were they just simply lifeless? She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know those answers.

Popping back up to breathe, she felt her sense of peace shatter as the doorbell downstairs broke her serenity. With a frown and a sigh of resignation, she stood from the water and enveloped herself in the bathrobe she had hanging on a hook beside the bathroom door. She tied the sash tightly around her waist and descended the stairs. Whoever was at her door better have a damn good excuse.