Desiderium, Monsters the First Ch 8

My #WedPeeks post for this week is chapter eight of my new novella, scheduled for release this October. Desiderium is a dark fantasy/horror and is for mature readers.

*Warning: There is violence, sex, and a lot of profanity in these pages.

~ EIGHT ~

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I woke up this morning in a pile of garbage behind the club. I have to admit, that is not something I ever dreamed I would say about myself, or imagine ever doing, but it’s the truth. My cheek was actually resting against a partially eaten and somewhat moldy burger patty, and a cat was sitting next to my head, licking its chops and staring at me as if to say it would eat through my face to get to that patty if I didn’t move soon.

Despite waking up in a pile of garbage, I feel strangely good. Satiated in a way I have never known before. I don’t remember everything about last night, but I definitely remember the sex. I had no idea it could feel like that.

I feel relaxed, too. I haven’t felt like this since the day Blake died. The sun is out, and I feel like everything will be OK. The dark weight is off my shoulders. Even the haunting certainty about the sinister circumstances of Blake’s death is diminished. Today I feel certain, for the first time, that he just fell victim to some incredibly odd but perfectly natural phenomenon. Nothing to worry about—grieve over, yes, but not worry about. And I certainly don’t need to hunt anymore. Or worry that I’m being hunted.

I may have almost gotten my face chewed off by a hungry stray cat, and I need to wash mustard off my cheek, but all is good in the world. And all of this from one night with one strange but incredible woman.

Thinking of her, I feel a twinge. I cheated on Sophie. Something I had never done before, especially not on Sophie. I stayed out all night and had glorious sex with a stranger. Someone whose name I don’t even know. Repeatedly.

I don’t regret it. How can you regret something that’s been so clearly good for you? That woman did something Sophie was never able to do. Actually, she did a lot of somethings Sophie was never able to do, or any other woman I’ve ever known. But what I really mean is she healed over my wounds in a way I never thought could happen. How can you regret that?

But it will kill Sophie if she finds out, and I feel awfully about that. Thinking about the look of hurt and fear so often found in her eyes these days is already more than I can bear, and the accusation growing there drives me crazy sometimes. And I know I’ll regret the hurt this will cause if she finds out.

I’ve been growing away from her for quite some time, and she’s been hanging on because she loves me, because she believes we’ll work through it, but that’s surely all over now. Hell, if she knew some of the things I did to that woman last night that would probably be enough to kill whatever feelings of love she still has for me. Still, we have loved one another for seven years, and it’s hard to think about the fact that I’ve hurt her this way.

I should have handled this better. I should have left Sophie once the dreams started again. I should have left her after they turned violent. I’m no good for her. I’ve never been good for her, really. At least ever since Blake.

The more I thought about it and the further I got away from that garbage pile, the worse I felt about it. Guilt nestled itself into my chest, settling in for a long stay. I couldn’t tell her, obviously, so it would stay my little secret. And to be completely honest with myself, I plan on finding the dark-haired beauty again. And soon. One night was most definitely not enough.

It was late by the time I got home. Sophie had gone in to work already. I thought about calling in to work for myself, and just decided to say fuck it. I had other shit to take care of.

A couple years ago I had bought Sophie an engagement ring. Two weeks after I bought it Blake had died and turned all my hopeful dreams to ash in my mouth. I had kept that little golden circle of hope buried in the back of my jean drawer, a small chance that things would come out right in the end. I know now that I’ll never use that ring. I want the woman of the dark, not a woman of the light like Sophie is. I want a woman who will take me for the debauched and damaged man I am, let me revel in my deviant passions, and enjoy them with me.

I took a quick shower, pulled the ring out of the drawer, and drove to a pawnshop downtown and traded it in.

I felt oddly exhausted and sad when I handed it over in return for the cash. I actually had a hard time parting with it. Deep inside, part of me felt like this was wrong somehow. The whole thing is wrong. I should be with Sophie, not fucking strange women I meet in alleys. But the memory of last night overrode that small voice, and I handed over the ring.

I went for a long walk afterwards, my thoughts roiling around each other, and as the afternoon waned I decided it was time to find her again. Everything had seemed so clear when I’d woken up this morning. Without question, another night with my dark-haired woman would clear up this conflict. Plus, thinking about our activities from last night was getting me wound up again already. I couldn’t wait to get under her again.

I made my way to the alley, and settled on the ledge as the sun sank in the sky. Sophie would be worried—she’d probably called a hundred times today when she found out I didn’t come home last night, but now that I was here I really didn’t care. My cock was hard already, just sitting here where I had seen the nymph last night. I considered jerking off, but no, I wanted to save it for her. I needed to keep my energy up. I didn’t want to disappoint her. I felt certain something bad would happen if I did.