Whispers in the Dark

By Ever Lasting Night Time

It is usually a gift to settle for something that unexpectedly finds its way to you, yet it is also a curse in which it would want to take something away. That was what it was back then, he knew but there was something that stilled bothered him about that time. Something that he knew began with the letter "L" and yet couldn't understand what it truly meant, nor place an image in his head as to what it would look like if he saw it. This was the life he had lead for over three thousand years, the life of a Goblin King, and yet from the memories of each tortured face, he felt nothing…except for one, one that he knew he was possibly forbidden to see ever again. His forbidding of seeing the woman that his mind spoke of freely was because of a mistake he felt he had made once before. It was the one thing that drove him away, away from something that he truly wanted. To understand what he had began to feel for the young girl, Sarah when she had wandered un-avertedly into his labyrinth to find her brother all those years ago. She was surely to be no older than when he first met her though, the world above his castle running in a different time period compared to his own.

His hands slipped around the ornate stone arm rests of the throne that he sat upon, juggling four glass crystals in his hands as he searched through each realm he had once created for her, some of them dark and daunting, others of the ground above where light was continuously on the topic and yet, he knew that there was one missing, one that he had longed to hold for a long time and was denied the pleasures of doing so. This was part of a story that he knew was going to be picked up and read by maybe an ignorant adult reading to their spoilt children or maybe, just maybe the one he wished to see once again. However, he knew that it was a long shot to think in such a way and yet he felt no guilt towards this, saw no need of it because of his position in life. Placing the crystals upon an odd-shaped pedestal, his delicate finger tips trimmed the sides of each stone cold glove that seemed to hide away a warmth that he had forgotten in his long years of life, pulling delicately at each side before one glove slipped off, followed by another, being placed inside a hidden pocket.

He didn't examine his own hand like some insipient mortal. He had seen the ivory flesh many a time when he was alone, the flesh finely carved against the bone as he flexed his fingers, enjoying the rippling sensations of each quick manoeuvre. And then, a certain beauty flickered across his mind, followed by the thoughts of what it would be like now to touch her innocent flesh, feel the purity allowing itself to be touched in such a way which was not often permitted to someone who wasn't of age when she first met him, but now it seemed as if he no longer cared for such laws. If what he felt was true then there was no other way expressing the meaning of the word beginning with "L", to himself. Picking up the crop he held with him it all times, he felt his flesh singe under the grip of the beastly weapon, but he did not let go. After all, he was the Goblin King and he wasn't meant to have the same weaknesses as others.

Something stirred in the back of his mind. More memories of the room shaped like the painting on Sarah's wall, where his singing seemed to convey emotions he thought he never had and yet she remained far colder than he, shoving away his emotions as if they were nothing, and then the last words spoken by her, the words let lead him to where he was now, a wraith of the former being he once was, joined the thoughts circling in his mind. Sometimes he felt like he wanted to push these thoughts away, accuse them of being immoral to what he was but he knew that he couldn't. He wouldn't, since after all, it was not possible to push away your feelings. However, he could rebuff the thoughts and everyone that came to his mind made him emit a false laughter, to show what remained of his kingdom that he was still the walking nightmare of the lands. Yet he was now not as menacing as he once was to the land. The tyrant or the nemesis was what they called him once, but the nicknames became softer after Sarah Williams had returned to the ground above with her baby brother, Toby.

His tongue rasped harshly against his swollen throat. He hadn't eaten, drank nor slept for days, his mind to busy pondering the emotion that he felt, rather than realise that it needed the basic needs in order to survive. A thin streak of light ash blonde fell into view, causing his flesh like hand to sweep it back to the crop of light ash blonde hair that twisted and tangled itself freely in its own fashion sense as the messy mane needn't a brush or a comb to fix the tangles. A cloak was pulled around his shoulders, causing him to scream at his servants to get out, leave him be in his own time of need. With one thought and one thought only – of seeing her one last time before he was sure he would meet a fate for better than living the life he was living now, he disappeared into thin air. He had to see her, see what had become of her life, his withering soul wanting to know what had become of his once seductive obsession.

Then the site of a shapely chest rising up and down amongst the covers greeted him, the rest of the body twitching from a nightmare she was having. He wanted to walk over to her, find a way that he would know how to stop her pain, to soothe her from the horrors that lay deep within her imagination, but he didn't. He just stood there, watching as his heart nearly ripped itself in two as he realised what it was that he had been trying to work out…

…Love…

…Four letters…

That means everything to me…

And you, Sarah…