She turns wide-eyed as the floor trembles and the walls give way. She has opened the box one-too-many times and she knows it. This is it. No more bargains, no more deals this time. He is coming for her soul and there is no way out. She sits crossed-legged with her head bowed in silence, waiting for an agony she could never imagine. Why? Why did she open the box? In that brief moment she would give anything to have left it alone. The silence is deafening as the calm before the storm fills the room. With a feeling of dread, she looks up and sees the inevitable cause.
It's him.
In all his fearsome, majestic glory, he stands gazing down upon her with a knowing smile. "It is time, Kirsty Cotton! You always knew this day would come and now, I WILL know your flesh" With his outstretched hand he beckons her towards him. She reaches out to take it knowing any attempt at escape is futile. As she stands up, he pulls her hips forcefully towards his own and she whimpers. He leans in and whispers menacingly in her ear, "Isn't this the part where you pitifully beg for your life?" Her own lungs betray her as she heaves to muster enough breath to utter a semblance of anything that might convince him to free her. At last she looks into his eyes sorrowfully through the sting of tears and replies, "Please…. please don't do this. I gave you Frank, I gave you the others. I don't want that pain too". Slowly, he shakes his head and smiles smugly. "Oh Kirsty you really have no idea, have you?" His expression softens as he gently cups her face in his hands and explains, "You will not be screaming my name begging me to stop. You will be screaming my name begging me NOT to stop". She slowly opens her eyes and is met with the feeling of warm breath upon her face as their lips finally meet in a long-awaited kiss. With a sharp intake of breath, the barriers she had once so conscientiously built around her begin to crumble revealing the hidden truth - the real reason she opened the box, the real reason he always appears. She is jolted awake, sweat on her forehead and knuckles white from the grip on her bed sheets. It had all been in her head. Only a dream, yet one in which the sights, the sounds, the smells were all too real. An ache in her stomach serves as a cruel reminder that what she'd secretly wanted for so long WAS only a dream. Her melancholy ebbs as a hand softly curls around hers and a low, deep voice breaks the silence, "You can deny your feelings to yourself but you cannot deny them to me. Your mind has never been more open to me than it is now". Slowly, she turns her head to the source of the voice, her heart thumping so loudly against the wall of her chest that she's certain whoever is there with her can hear it too. She sees only eyes at first. As her own eyes adjust to her dimly-lit surroundings, she can make out a face. A shiver runs down her spine as she dares to believe what she sees in front of her. They both smile upon her recognition.
It's him.