Hunted by a Dream Ch. 01

I remember that night; I slept the way I used to be. I said my prayers every night ever since I was a child. I have always been a good, and an obedient child, that I'd never given my parents any worries or have caused them troubles. I was always thought of as the good one, that my thoughts were always pure. You see, I've been in an all-girls Catholic school almost all my life that I always had this 'Catholic guilt'. I believed that bad people go to hell, and that good people go to heaven. I used to know the Bible from the heart.

I was standing in the middle of my bedroom. The lights were strangely dimmed, and my room seemed wide and yet the same. I was naked, and there, I seemed older, an adult that reached her peak as a woman, with long black hair flowing through my smooth, bare back. I was looking at a man standing a few steps from me; the glass door of my verandah was slid open, the curtain billowing from the cold breeze of the night.

It was strange how I could see everything from my body and feel as if I was somewhere else in the room too, like another part of me was present. It gave me a third person perspective, and at the same time trapped in this body, that seemed to be my future self.

The man standing there was staring at me. I remember his eyes to be dark and beautiful, but the memory of it had left as soon as I woke up. Something in my mind told me that he was The Devil himself. At that instant, I could feel his presence, his darkness, but I wasn't afraid. Rather, I was attracted to him. My instinct told me that I was the one who let him in my room. I could tell that he came from the veranda, from the way he stood beside the glass door, his tall frame spoke of danger and lust. I desired this creature.

I could feel his breath even from the distance. His mouth curled in an insolent smile. His hair was dark; he had a tan, well-toned body with long limbs, the kind of man I wanted from my dreams. It was as if he made himself the way I wanted him to be. Suddenly, I found myself in his arms, I wasn't sure if I glided or he did, but I was in his arms, his breath mixed with the smell of his masculine scent. My heart was beating faster. I felt excitement and desire; something that I wasn't aware of, something that I thought was forbidden, something that was against all what I've always believed in.

His body enveloped me in a heat of passion; it was as if his arms became a cape that drew me closer to him, closer that made me even more breathless. I relinquished the thought that he may do me harm, it didn't matter what he was; I found him dangerously irresistible. I was elated that something dark and powerful wanted me. I know it was foolish, but I've never experienced being wanted as a woman before, the wonders that these sensations can do, the power of lust and desire that I can inflict and be inflicted upon was new to me. I was delirious with the new found power that I have but was never conscious of.

He bent down, his eyes never leaving mine, his face a few inches away. My eyes fell on his slightly parted lips. I ran a tongue on my own, wetting it, feeling the hunger from his kiss. My hands seemed to have moved by itself, going up from his flat abdomen to his broad chest, my palms savoring the heat, the hardness, the smoothness, until I couldn't hold myself any longer.

My lips found his; we kissed, slowly at first, our tongues dueling, my eyes were half-closed from the heady sensation. I pushed my body even closer so that our breaths and bodies mingled. I heard a moan and was surprised that it came from me. No longer was I aware of my surroundings, I only felt his presence, the craving, the lust. My mind lost its volition over my body. Then I felt him shifted, and suddenly found myself void of his lips. He looked at me and spoke without words, he spoke in my mind like an echo, he said; "I will come for you..."

I woke up with a start. My eyes automatically fell on the glass door of my verandah. For a moment, I expected to see him standing there. And before I could stop it, the images became blurry; I have forgotten his face. But the feelings he stirred in me, the sensations I felt remained in my memory for years.

I sat still on my bed for a long time trying to take the images back, closing my eyes, trying to grab onto something so that I could keep a fraction of detail about his face.

"How could I have dreamt of something that felt even more real than anything else?" I asked myself. My body reacted to him; it was so potent that I woke up with his scent still clinging to my senses, my body searching for the heat that enveloped it.

For weeks, I was a fool who constantly thought about that dark creature, sometimes even wishing that I could meet him in my sleep again. Half of me wondered why I was longing for this creature, but knew that I was fascinated by its mystery and the fact that he wanted me. The promise that he gave me was instilled in me. He spoke of it in a language that only my mind understood.

It was madness, one may think. I kept telling myself that to think such is blasphemous, and that it was only a dream, that I should stop this until it becomes an obsession. Gradually, the dream became a memory, until I've forgotten about it. Eventually I left home, and went abroad for college. Years passed by rapidly. Little did I know that the dream I had will hunt me.