Down the Rabbit Hole

Tingling pain crawled across Sylvia's skin as a thousand frantic voices screamed in unison. They demanded only one thing: the Desire that swirled like a burning frost in her gut, luring her towards the land of dreams.

Sylvia cupped her forehead in her palms, tugging gently against her scalp. She enjoyed the temporary relief that came as it eased the dull throbbing in her head. Nothing could distract her from the gnawing in her stomach, rumbling like a distant thunderstorm.

The voices clamored over one another, desperate to be heard.

No one should have to starve.

You didn't ask for this.

They never told you this could happen.

It's their fault. It's on them.

They left you to fend for yourself.

You're not hurting anyone. Just feed.

Feed! Feed! Feed!

"Fuck!"

Sylvia swept everything off the coffee table in one deft swing, shattering the last gift her grandmother had given her, a beautiful glass vase. She heaved a heavy sigh. The dying sunflowers lay wilting in a pool of dirty water on the worn laminate of her living room floor.

A persistent buzz promised the only cure. The only way to ease the pain.

With a scowl Sylvia glanced at the phone to find a call from her best friend, Sergeant Jean-Pierre Cote. Her salvation. The only cop--or person for that matter--in the Greater Boston area who still treated her like a human being. Who hadn't dumped her like trash.

The only one who could make the Need stop.

Jean-Pierre had risked everything for her: his reputation, his career, even his life. Thank God his brother had blown the whistle on Big Pharma about the illegal treatments that caused her condition. Otherwise she might have ended up in super-max.

Still, Sylvia's relative freedom involved her near complete isolation while she lived off of meager state benefits like some parasite.

Until the class-action lawsuit came through.

If it came through at all...

In the meantime Jean-Pierre--the detective who had taken over her case--checked in on her from time to time. Mostly on official business. Except when it wasn't.

She answered it with a heavy sigh. "What's up, JP?"

"Bad timing?" he asked with a curious lilt.

"You could say that. I'm getting a little--"

"Say no more," he said. "I've got good news."

Sylvia's heart leapt into her throat. Good news. Their euphemism for another lead on a heinous criminal who had escaped justice, one that deserved a fate worse than death.

Finally something she could do. A way she could let go and feed.

"Thank God!" Sylvia ran a trembling hand through her hair. "I'm fit to burst, JP."

The silence hung heavy between them. "Would you like a distraction?"

A shiver of delight coursed through her veins as she recalled the last fantasy they shared. Even though they'd never touched one another in the real world, Jean-Pierre had invited her to sink into his mind.

Each time she tumbled down, down, down like Alice into the rabbit hole. Electric tingles flooded her cheeks at the memories of tangled limbs and passionate kisses. A release a thousand times better than sex. A greater euphoria than any drug.