By: J.R. Chambers
You mortals always say, “Time heals all wounds.” How charming, indeed, but even an insect knows time is an indifferent companion. There with you as you are born, and there with you as your corpse is thrown into the cold earth. I suppose I should tell you that Gaia no longer cares to take your kin back to her womb; your mythology regarding her is long out of date.
Of my many love affairs with mortals, I have by now forgotten what they strove to teach me about humanity’s tender mercies. Was there a point to all the romance? Don’t get me wrong. I respected what they stood for. I’m not a monster, I often cried when they failed to amuse me, before they passed on. Without love to keep me in perspective, I’m afraid I can be a blue fey, a wicked fey. It behooves my lovers to amuse me, always.
But you were different, weren’t you?
Before I found you, I was lost in the old lands, Dreamland to be exact, drowning in my blues. Not many dreamers go there anymore, the waking world keeps them in check, leaving the lush glades, green forests, and sandy beaches largely uninhabited. Yet you were there, remember?
I was playing tag with the purple ocean waves of Dreamland, and the cold water was sending delightful shivers up my spine, making me twitter. I was actually feeling good about myself again, forgetting the pains of immortality, losing my loneliness in the booming surf. Luna was high in the sky, waxing full, giving me light to play by in that lonely little place. I think that’s when I looked up, right into your blue eyes. Surprised to find another in Dreamland, I dropped my sea shells, and reached out to you, my cold little hands seeking your warmth.
“I can’t, I have to go,” you whispered nervously, suddenly aware of my naked body. Fate had washed you up on the shore of my little getaway, and life, cruel life, was calling you back to its tomb.
It wasn’t enough for us, that slender meeting.
Night after night, you continued to dream of me, unconsciously calling out to me, inviting me into your own private little dream world. How could I deny such a precious invitation?
Starring in all your dreams, I was your very own little pixie waif, and nightly we defied the waking world’s rules about love affairs with things like…me. Meeting always on the nether shores of sleep, we did what we couldn’t do in the waking world. You had your life, and I, I had my immortality. And there was a point, a point when I fell in love with you. But dreams, my dear, those fairy dust shadows weren’t enough for a being like me. I was desperate to find you in the “real world.” Flesh on flesh, that’s my forte.
While mortals slept, I scoured their cities, crowded suburbs, and loud nightclubs, but I couldn’t find you without help. Shrugging off my pride, I asked my lonely sister, Night, for help. We’d always been very close. Night gave me her hushed landscapes to dance in, and in turn, I wrote poems about her. It had been years since we’d last conversed. I was nervous, but my love for you burned me, I had to chance it.
Night embraced me with her shadows, teased me about being such an aloof, antisocial Fey, and after a long talk, finally granted me my wish. Night spoke to her good friend Fate, and in turn, Fate took me by the hand and whirled me to you. Fate was one cold blooded bastard, I was glad to be rid of his presence. In short, I would do anything to find you.
I blundered into your life, whirled chaotically into place by chance, plopped out of nowhere onto the side of some distant two lane highway. We were destined to meet in the wooded lands of the waking world, in a lonely little place not frequented by others.
We met on the most perfect autumn afternoon. The sun was succumbing to patches of tall cumulonimbus clouds that lazily drifted by on a cold front. Summer’s strength was leaking away by the hour, and only a diffuse, dusty glow was left to light the cottonwood trees that gave me hope that you’d come along.
Anytime now.
I had faith.
“Need a ride?” You asked as you pulled over. One or two angry rain drops splattered on the windshield of your car, a wordless estament from the heavens of the storm, our passionate storm of lust to come.
“Oh yes, I would be most pleased, thanks,” I replied with a human diction that hinted at a suburban education and maybe a year or two of junior college. You thought I had drama in my veins. What can I say? This bluish tint to my black hair doesn’t wash out. It’s the stain I bear.
We drove, letting the highway talk for a time, until it became unbearable. Our souls were already talking, but our mouths were shamefully mute.
“Are you in a play or something?”
“Band,” I said with just enough boredom to make it real.
“Guitarist?” but then you glanced at my small, pale hands and thought otherwise.
“Vocalist,” I answered. “Have you heard of us? The Crypt Fairies? We sound a lot like Stone 588.” Looking at you through the wispy tendrils of my blue-black hair, my purple peepers on your brown ones, I could tell right then, you remembered me from Dreamland. Here was your little pixie slave in the flesh, your dream girl come to visit you!
“Uhhh, no. I usually don’t listen to that kind of music. Damn, I was just in time, look at the rain.” You broke my loving stare, motioned at the autumn sky, and tried to claw your way back to reality. As I remember it, that was your first act of betrayal against me, against our love! We Fey are a testy bunch.
“You married? Do you even have a name?”” I asked, there was anger there, but I let you hear it as flirtation. I used the hunger in my anger to lure you back into our relationship. I knew you were married, but what does human law have to do with us?
“Stephen, and yes, I’m attached. But when I meet beautiful women, my answer is usually—No.”
I threw you a tarty smile, and gently touched your arm with my fingers. I easily took up the reins. You weren’t hard to tame.
“I need a drink,” I demanded, “pull over up ahead. I think there’ll be a liquor store.” Fate would provide, I had faith.
You nodded absently, forgetting your reasons for driving out in the boondocks, forgetting your volition, even your reasons for living. Funny. Your kin always look to miracles to explain the unexplainable. Spells are fine, but darling, fairy magic is much more than tongue of newt and eye of frog these days. I suppose by now, you know this better than me.
Clarkston was to be our trysting ground, a small community with exactly one liquor store, one cheap roadside motel, and one gas station. Not much more than a blip on the map, but it would do.
The car bit angrily at the loose gravel of the liquor store parking lot, a testament of your haste to be with me. Conveniently parked across the highway, the old white Clarkston motel flickered its neon sign at us promisingly. Though the pink trim had faded and the swimming pool was cracked and drained, it called to us.
“I’ll get a room,” I nodded across the silent highway, using the voice a wife would use, improvising on the fly. “You get the booze.”
The motel was quite dead.
Perfect!
Trading a twenty for a room key, I winked at the owner, shushed him with a smile, and told him not to disturb us. “Long day,” I purred. Nodding, he said he understood.
The room was down at the far end, down by the rusting swing sets and rotting picnic benches. I threw the stone gnome in the overgrown flower garden a grin in case he was really there, pulling a double shift for old Oberon. He motioned me to silence, a stubby finger pressed against his mildewed beard. He wouldn’t warn you, he was sworn to stony silence.
Waiting in the dark, I heard your doubtful footsteps stalk by each door. Numbers 11, 12, and then 13. Voila! The doorknob to our room turned slowly.
Opening the door to my heart, the darkness reached out and snatched you in. Tugging away from me, you suddenly forgot your pounding needs. That was your second betrayal of our love. And my dear, though I love you eternally, I never could abide by the flightiness of your human heart.
It was too late for us, so very late. Somehow the world had reached in between us and crushed what flame there was. But I would have my way with you, you owed me that much. And Dreamland is so nice in autumn, so very sweet. I thought we’d
go there for our last dance.
Cowering in the rough denseness of Dreamland’s misty forests, the trees would not hide you from me, it was a Fey world after all. I was the wind that kissed your shivering cheeks, the heat in your loins that drove you on, and the fear in your mind that blinded you.
Later, after the dark terrors of my Dreamland chased you to me, we embraced on a mossy knoll under rolling purple skies. You played nice and kissed my black lips, tongued my blue skin and swore eternal love to me. It’s sad if you stop to think about it. The only place we are free to be ourselves is in Dreamland. But your love for me had expired long ago, I would have to fix that.
I cut to the chase and reached for you with my glossy black nails. I found you, even though your jeans got in the way, careful tearing reveals all. I worked my wiles and made you scream beautiful heartfelt yelps of pain.
Every scream was different. Some were very bitter, while some were well beyond what humans would consider orgasmic glory. I put you through your paces, using your lust to strengthen my spells. The world dimmed, shrunk, and finally, vanished from your mind.
The skies of Dreamland turned blood red, and so did my eyes.
The expression on your face said it all. Every artist knows when they have a masterpiece on their hands. You were my orgasmic prince, a statue of masculine beauty lost in time, immune to the moment.
I craved more.
To relieve you of your final agonies, I leaned in and kissed you one last time. Grabbing your bottom lip with my teeth, I pulled maliciously. Listening carefully, I let your final sighs of bliss guide me the rest of the way home. Blood spurted from your lip, and I let go.
Pushing away only to fall back on you, I brought out my sacrificial dagger, every good Fey has one, and stabbed deep into your neck. I allowed your arterial spray to wet me down, to anoint me with nothing but pure crimson love. This was something that would happen only once between us, and I fully intended to enjoy every moment of it.
Shooting out geyser-like now, your unstaunched flow dappled the trees of Dreamland with bright red splotches. Your rain lasted a few seconds more and then all was quiet, except for your moans.
But we weren’t done yet, and damn it, you were cooling already, your life fading by the second. Checking your eyes, I saw enough spark there, you were still with me, but the frost was coming over you. I had to act fast if I was going to have any chance saving our love for eternity. It was what you wanted after all.
Do you remember what came next?
I got it out, the shimmering crystal ball your kin has managed to make into an instrument of scrying. Originally, we Fey used them for storage purposes until we were careless and left one or two in the forest. No matter, humans were mystified by them, and like always, allowed their ignorance to guide them. But they still work, if you know the right touch, how to move the fingers over the bald surface until the humming begins.
I passed it over your body, and let it get a good whiff. I let it guide my hands, it knew what to do, stopping directly over your chest. Warming up, it caught the beat, the beat and skip of your heart…your soul.
Crackling with hunger, the orb slowly sucked at your ebbing tide.
Yes, you flinched at first, sensing the orb’s touch, but its warm fingers eased you into its embrace, didn’t it? I think that’s when you gave in totally to me, to us. You saw the big picture. You could become a part of something bigger than yourself, something infinitely more rewarding than mere marriage.
I seem to recall some screams of maladjustment at first. Immortality can be quite a bitch, but once you give in, her eternal hands can be quite rewarding. I think that’s where I finally lost you. You ran to her with open arms. My darling, not that I’m counting, but that would be your third betrayal against me. I will simply never understand your kin.
Do you remember it all now? Remember the love we once had?
Truthfully, I covet you, darling, always did. You’re my answer to loneliness; my need for vengeance has grown cold, the mood has passed on now, and only my love for you remains. I’ve changed, you’ll see. Eternity cannot claim all! I will not let her!
Speak to me, I know you’re in there, your taciturn silence only proves that your love for me is deep and fierce. Come darling, this dumb show has grown old. I long to hear you say that you remember me, because I have grown so hungry, so needy for your attention. It’s the dirty little secret I bear; immortality is a cold, cold place without you.
So wake up now lover, stir from your repose in that shiny orb. Say you remember, say you remember me, say you remember…anything!
Hey, great work! I really liked the way the story kept changing as I read. I thought I had a good idea of what was going on, but then I had to change my whole idea of what the story actually was. I liked the way it weaves together ancient and modern forms of writing and thinking in an imaginative and brand new way. Good stuff!