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He walked amongst them, their faces sullen and pale, framed within a winter's cold embrace. And the tall buildings that towered above, forbade the dying solstice sun to lay its rays upon their dark souls, crying out in redemption. Desmond smiled as the simplicity of its message was clear, but the shadowy grayness of its colour melted into his nightmares in total complexity. The concrete sidewalks became like a human sea of indifference as he slowly walk on, thoughts churned inside like twisted mementos of another place…………A place pure black in its infinite loneness, disjointed with its flashes of life's disparities, augmented with even quicker glimpses of gentle kisses and the soft open thighs of dead whores………Beckoning their lovers to enter them once more, curling their white index fingers in a suggestive "come to me" gesture. He felt himself attracted to the visions as its apparent nuance began to fill him with desire, and to feed his addiction with its debauchery……. The blurring images of the cold flesh of his long dead lovers made him grow hard with certain credence, their pale bodies laying in silent vigilance within black marble caskets, blue lips craving a warm embrace, becoming one with death's beauty. He found himself driven by their secrets, and by their pain, these entities that walked the seemly desolate streets, materializing into distorted perceptions of their own human depravity.
Desmond took a sharp right turn down a narrow alley as his eyes began to slowly grow accustomed to the darkening atmosphere. The narrow aperture opened up wide near its end. He stopped and looked up and along the wet bricks that lined the filth like a blanket, as if trying desperately to keep the pestilence that dwelt in its core at bay. Over turned garbage cans spilled like cornucopias of plenty in the garden of its festering disease, rats scurried and swam amongst its foul rancidity, mimicking the last of the dying fishes in the Hudson River. He suddenly noticed from off to his left the flash of pale skin, he turned quickly to catch her in motion, her delicate neck snapping as the hemp rope became taught. The small iron frame and sign that hung outwards and high above the darkened doorway strained and creaked under the weight as her bare legs kicked twice, then swung methodically as if caught in a soft silent wind………The warm urine ran down her inner thighs to the heals of her feet, then made its way across the slender arches to her toes, spilling onto the wet pavement below. Eyes bulged from the violence, and her pink tongue parted dry lips in a suggestive nature……. Desmond felt her soul drifting, and brought it near him, pulling it ever closer…….. Then took her deep inside, into the center of his black heart. She fought for only a moment, her struggle soon subsiding into silence as she began to fall into the gateway of the dark dominion. He looked up to her discarded body, its naked whiteness in brilliant contrast to the dark reddish tint of the surrounding background………Then kissed and caressed her feet as her limp body began to grow cold…………. He walked away from the dark abode, mingling once again with the misery of the haunted souls on the busy streets, and again trudged his way through the wall of human flesh. No one noticed the trail of discarded clothing that littered the walkway…… The trail that eventually led to the feet of the fallen one. Her soul forever to keep within his cold chamber, there to torture………..There to love. Desmond rounded the corner to West End Ave. The façade towered above, taking unto itself a certain foreboding, as if becoming an endless conduit to the dark ones wicked intentions………To take this bleak city deep within the evil that it hastens………To consume it, to derive from its life and energy….. Death and decay. He hesitated for a moment, and then walked through the large front doors into the mouth of the beast, his thoughts becoming stranded within the dream, his heart once again turning cold as he neared the elevator. The lobby was void of the living, but the dead became infused with the surroundings, their apparitions taking him upon a journey to witness their eternal sufferings. The soft wind found its source from the hidden things that only he dare harbor, and the dead had become the kindred to his solitude, and his eternal darkness. |