Insane joy mixed with insane fear that the people would just walk by and I would have neither the power nor the time to make them approach. But it seems like Lady Luck has smiled upon me today with her painted face.
I thank you, She Who Brings, Patroness Of The Unworthy! From this moment on I am forever in your debt, I am your eternal prisoner, and I will do anything that you would desire. Fortuna mia, just don't let the ember fade. Please, have mercy, take pity on me!
And so she did.
There, the woman was standing above me, very close. So close, in fact, that it took an incredible amount of effort to stop myself from ripping into the depths of her being and devouring it, choking and sobbing from the perennial hunger.
But that's what ghouls do. That's how you become a ghoul. I am not a ghoul.
I am mist, flowing above the moonlit canals of Venice; a serenade from a Spanish Caballero underneath his love's balcony; a branch of a flowering cherry tree, covering with pink petals the head of a sleeping beauty, who dreams about her first kiss.
Incubus.
My being pulls toward the woman who glows with the flickering flame of living flesh and delves into the first layer of her ethereal membrane. I'm sinking, drowning... I, an undead being, die for every woman who I manage to enter; how could this not be the greatest reward for a woman's vanity?
The layered void welcomes with a malignant chill, unbearable even for someone that is dead. Eternity and infinity fused together and filled with information that only the chosen and the mad can discover. The vampiric shadows devour the tiniest particles of energy that appear in this kingdom of death. This is not a place for the living. Were I not undead, the darkness would have killed me within a fraction of a second. Killed, sucked dry, scattered and laid to rest in this graveyard of knowledge.
The darkness is parted by bolts of communication channels. A flash, then darkness, cold... another flash. I identify the radian of these bolts and flow towards it. I patiently wait for the void to erupt with a blinding furor, momentarily opening the crimson wormhole which I screw myself into, much like a corkscrew into a cork.
The expanse bursts with a myriad of stars.
Beautiful... this place is infinitely beautiful! I've had countless coalescences with human essences within the last millennium, but I still can't hold back from pausing in marvel at the sight of embodied matter! How are they able to do this? Why? Why only humans, such primitive creatures, were given the gift of forming the celestial ocean of particular energy into objects?
The act of creation, where the creators conceive worlds without being aware of their own creations.
I am surrounded by wonderful illusions. Dangerous, too. There is more energy at this level so I have to be even more careful. The greatest menace awaits me at the Gates but... Curses! They are here!
The stars around me start to flicker in unison. The Panoptes felt my presence and activated a tracking system!
Vacuum horrendum, Argus Panoptes, nihil habeo, nihil curo.*
I repeat the curse a couple of times but the Panoptes continue to flicker. Curious, I don't notice any signs of alarm. So they noticed an intruder, but don't treat it as an enemy? Lucky me, I guess.
I turn into a comet's tail and hide behind the prominences of a green star, looking around in search of the Gates. But around me are only stars and nebulae, whimsically painted in all colours and shades.
I look, but I don't see. It happens sometimes.
The consciousness builds a chain of logical images, rearranging hidden data.
Quod est inferius est sicut id quod est superius.**
The nebulae become clearer, the stars dimmer, and a vibration builds inside me, turning the perception of this layer inside-out.
Et quod est superius est sicut est inferius, ad perpetranda miracula.***
A silent explosion expels chunks of nebulae and shards of stars. Before me, I see the furry tentacles of a spiral galaxy. I need to get there, into the middle, into the core. Help me, Fortuna mia, sei tutto per me, lo sai, Preziosa!*
I freeze in expectation of Cerberus. Soon I start moving cautiously, every second fully expecting to see my damsel's guardians. But time passes, but I am not met by anyone. No sword-wielding angels threatening the filthy demon, no impenetrable wall covered in Arabic script to repel the cursed Djinn. What the hell, there is absolutely nobody here!
This can only mean one thing: my girly is completely indifferent to religious doctrines. Even if she was pagan, I would've had to come upon some long-haired man with a hammer. I still remember how one of them once chased me all the way to Atman, not letting me set foot anywhere near the Gates. But a complete lack of guardians? That's a pleasant turn of events.
I walk through the gates as if walking into a hospitable home.
On the next layer, I don't have to fear losing my pitiful leftover energy anymore, there's plenty inside here. I rise up and take a look around, enjoying being able to feel again.
Right behind the Gates, I am greeted by a continuous stone wall covered in tunnel holes. The entrance is covered in knotted and torn webs, and there is a cave on each side of the wall. Father's cave is empty, nothing unusual. Hooked chelicerae stick out of the Mother's cave.
Motherly protection isn't something I want to mess with. I need to hurry up and get through this damn web. No big deal, I'll just... little by little... almost...
Che cazzo! The sticky web caught against me.
Ma che pirla!
The chelicerae twitched, followed by two hairy appendages appearing, and the couple of black eyes already having me in focus. I can only stay still, pretending to be part of the scenery. But you can't fool the brood mother that easily. Forward or back? I don't know what the spider's attack will entail, but turning back would certainly be worse than death.
What is she waiting for? To my complete surprise, the spider indifferently scuttles back into her cave. Wonderful. Hey, mommy, so it's okay if I take your daughter and...
Huh... whatever, it's better for me anyway. Makes me feel bad for the girl though. Not really an orphan, but not needed by anyone either.
Nobody but me, my dear. I'm running to you, losing my head from desire and hunger.
The stone labyrinth is empty, save for a few tiny childish defences flopping onto me from within the holes. I flick them off without slowing my pace. The rest fussily chase after me like chicks behind their mother, how amusing! Ah, how long has it been since I've last laughed? Or sang? Maybe I'll sing something right now.
Core, core 'ngrato,
T'aie pigliato 'a vita mia,
Tutt' è passato e
E nun ce pienze cchiù.**
Just like that, with a song, I fly from the dark tunnel onto a field overgrown with flowers. The sweet scent of irises slightly intoxicates me, but I am already drunk with the anticipation of immeasurable happiness. Fortuna mia, I am in awe of your generosity; a dense field of flowers with not even a hint of a path anywhere. My baby, virgin, pure! She is fully, completely, from head to toe, to the last drop, mine.
Above the flowery meadow stands tall a house. Not quite a castle, but towers, balconies and lancet windows are present. It's an ordinary view, every girl dreams to live in a stone-laced like such, filled with their hopes and dreams.
And one of the biggest dreams of a young princess is getting captured.
The kidnapping of a princess is an embodiment of the desire to be unique, important, needed. But after that... maybe the prince comes along and kills the dragon, maybe the dragon turns out to be a lovely prince himself. In every case, the transition from princess to queen is accompanied by intense intercourse.
My advance is met with forked flames rising and surrounding the house. The girl is afraid and resisting with full strength. Cara mia, you can't scare a dragon with fire!
I allow myself to spend the rest of my strength to absorb the flames into myself, making them rage inside. Wavy streams of hidden desires rise to the surface; streams of romantic images, of girly midnight fantasies. They grow and thicken by my will, forming an image of the perfect lover, one that this girl's body can't refuse no matter how much her mind protests.
With a swift kick, I break down the carved wooden door.
Beautiful maiden! Accept your Dragon!
*(From Latin: Horrible emptiness, Argus the All-seeing, I have nothing, I care about nothing.)
**(From Latin: That which is below is relative to that which is above.)
***(From Latin: That which is above is relative to that which is below in order to create miracles.)
*(From Italian: Dear, you're everything to me, you know it better than anyone!)
**(Elm sings a famous Italian song, 'Core 'ngrato')