Prologue: Addicted to You
I will make you bleed. I will make you hurt. I will tear out your heart, rip into your soul, and dissect that organ so many times that you will wonder if you will ever be able to feel anything again. This is me, who I am, the bitch of your nightmares, the ageless spirit of darkness who was never made to fathom happiness or joy, pain or pity, pleasure or remorse—
But I do. I have. I have, and that's what scares me the most. An emotional overload. Where sadism turns to masochism, sociopathic tendencies wither, manic depression dries up faster than water sizzling on asphalt in the afternoon. Where's it going? Where's all those nasty, vile, bitterly cruel emotions vanishing to?
The sunset's fading fast, its golden rays flaring crimson in different parts of the sky, swirling among lethargic clouds as if an angry god was about to unleash a flurry of light based attacks. There's just enough vengeful energy in heaven to distort my features, where brutal beams highlight the streaks on my face, making me look as if I had been crying tears of blood.
Everyone must be against me now. I thought sullenly. Even God wants me dead for what I did, for what I've willingly done…
Slowly, I wrapped my arms around the body I held tighter. Living or not, the corpse was mine, the child was mine, the boy was MINE, and no angel or devil would take him away from me. None of them would. He's mine for keeps, her to stay, mine forever, and he won't be going away. Mine, and he'll never, ever, EVER go away…
Peering down at the adolescent, I murmured, "Because that's the way it is, Love. That's the way it always will be. Always, for you and me. Just you and me."
One shaky, belligerently cold hand caressed a tangled heap of tri-colored tresses while the other stroked a cherub mouth. His colorless lips were slightly parted as if he were still living, still breathing, still waiting for me to lean in and close the gap there.
"Beautiful." I whispered. "As beautiful in death as you were in life."
A thin line of red trickled from his open orifice, slick and wet and strangely hypnotic. Hypnotic and irresistibly erotic. I have to have him, I'm glad that I do, let me show how much that I really, truly do—