Sarah was a child of three when she first heard the whisper.
Come to me.
It was well into the night. She had been tucked in and was fast asleep when she awoke. The words were coaxing, cajoling, and Sarah felt no fear at hearing them. She had gotten out of her bed and gone right to her widow. Even though it was dark she had no trouble locating the white owl perched on a branch in a tree from her yard. At the time she was too young to be able to open the windows for the bird. She had watched him unblinkingly until dawn started to stretch across the sky and he flew away.
Sarah never mentioned the bird to her parents, although they wondered why she was so cranky the next day.
###
The next time Sarah heard the whisper was when she was seven. Her mother had taken her to the park and had gotten distracted by a man, allowing Sarah to wander off to a more remote area of the park. She had contentedly played by herself until dusk.
Until she heard the whisper.
Come to me.
Again, the words were calm and friendly. Sarah looked around and easily spotted the white owl again, recognition flashing in her mind. She walked towards it, would have kept walking into the woods if her mother hadn't called for her. The will to continue into the woods was strong. Only the promise of punishment from her mother kept Sarah from going to the owl.
She never forgot about the urge to go into the woods. She went to the park everyday for a week, but never saw the owl again. Soon she thought less and less often about it, but never forgot.
###
At the stroke of midnight on her thirteenth birthday, Sarah awoke to the words.
Come to me.
She went to her window, but there was no owl.
For days, months and years after that Sarah would awake to the whispers. As she grew older warring emotions would rise in her. She needed to follow the whispered commands, for they had become commands over time. No longer were the words like velvet, sinking into her, willing her to come. Now they were rough, an order. The longer she delayed, the rougher and angrier the voice became. Along with the harshness was something new, a sensual quality. That frightened her more then anything else.
It was the masculinity of a formally genderless voice that brought feminine wariness into Sarah. It was the unknown fear all virgins faced. It was tenfold for her however, because she didn't even know who wanted her.
So Sarah listened to the words with longing and fear, never obeying the whispers.
###
At the age of sixteen an essence accompanied the whispers.
Come to me.
Sarah's head shot up and she looked around wildly. She knew that tone, those words better then her own, but… She frantically looked out the library window. Sunlight cheerfully streamed in. She relaxed back into her chair and laughed weakly at herself. The voice had never come in the daylight. She must have been imagining it. She had been stressed out from school and had gone to the library to find a book to distract herself with. She had found a good one and decided to stay a while and start reading it.
While she had exclusively read fantasy as a child, and still read it, Sarah found she loved murder mysteries. She had been reading an intense part and that, coupled with the stress from school, must have accounted for her hearing hallucination. Sarah ran her hand through her hair and went back to reading her book.
Come to me.
Sarah froze.
Come to me.
He was here, in the library, whoever he was. Sarah jerked as fear swamped her. He was close and he wanted her. The urge to flee and the urge to go to him battled in her. Self-preservation won out.
She fled.
His anger followed her all the way home.
###
Later that night as Sarah lay awake in her bed she heard the whisper again.
Come to me.
She felt him again as well.
On her.
Sarah's vision wavered as what looked like fog settled over her body. Hands caressed her face, then moved down to her arms as lips brushed she face. Tears dripped from her eyes as new sensations bombarded her. She didn't know what to feel. She was scared out of her mind, shocked and… aroused.
It was almost more then she could handle. The tears were licked away as the hands caressed her breasts through the sheets. The voice crooned nothingness in her ear. Sarah placed a measure of trust in the voice and let her self relax.
The voice seemed please by her trust and rewarded her with the feeling of pleasure.
Sarah let herself flow along, listening to the voice's wordless murmurs. She fell asleep feeling slightly safe.
###
After that night he always came with the whispers. During the day he would sometimes comfort her, sometimes bother her. Always at night he would get personal. It got to the point where she didn't even bother to wear cloths to bed any more, as he undressed her anyways.
Still, he always called to her, still wanted her to go to him, to be with him. Sarah was slowly running out of reasons not to obey.
###
The first time she saw him was when she was nineteen.
Sarah entered the coffee shop with relief. The snow outside was coming down harder and the place was warm. She got in line and patently waited for her turn. When she got to the counter a bored teen asked her what she wanted. She told him and she gave him the correct amount. When she received her coffee she went to sit by herself, simply wanting to be still.
Come to me.
Sarah twitched. She didn't need him right now. She opened her eyes to glare at nothing…
Only to glare at someone.
He sat across the room from her, dressed in tight black jeans, a black muscle shirt, a black leather jacket and black riding boots. He held a drink in one hand and a book in another. Sarah's mouth dropped open. He looked her in the eye, smirked and motioned for her to come to him.
Sarah shrieked, dropped her coffee and ran out of the cafe.
###
He didn't come to her for a few days. During these days Sarah felt utterly lost. It felt like something had been cut out of her and she was left bleeding to death. By the end of the thirteen days he had been gone Sarah nearly out of her mind with grief. She hadn't gone anywhere, even her college classes, claiming she was very sick. On the thirteenth day she was forced to leave her cave to get food. Her dorm mate said she was too busy to buy Sarah food.
Returning from her trip Sarah unlocked the door to her dorm room and stepped inside, locking the door behind her. She knew as soon has she had touched the doorknob that he was inside. She kept her back to him, trying to collect herself so she didn't make a fool out of herself. Again.
"Come," he commanded.
The words were spoken calmly, but with enough force to make her flinch. She dropped the bag of food she had been holding. She forced herself not to move; terrified if she did he would go away again.
A loud crack made her jump. She turned around to look at him. He was wearing the same outfit he had been wearing in the café; only this time he had a riding whip. He was sprawled on her over stuffed plush chair, looking for all the world as if he ruled over everything he saw.
"Do not make me say it again."
Fear flooded her anew. Right along side it was excitement. She moved towards him. When she was standing in front of him he held out his hand and she took it. He pulled her down into his lap arranging her to his liking. One hand snaked up her back and fingers tangled in her hair. Pain bit at her scalp as he pulled. Her squeak was lost as his mouth crashed on hers with animalistic lust. He invaded her mouth, taking what he wanted, but giving as well.
Pleasure and adrenalin crashed through her system. When he finally pulled away she was weak and panting. She licked her lips and tasted blood. She couldn't look at him and focused on her surroundings. They were no longer in her dorm. Grey stones made up the walls and flooring. There was a fireplace that dimly lit the room. Sarah could see a bed and little else.
A hand grabbed her chin and forced her to look up. She stared into his eyes. They seemed to glow.
"I have waited for you. Now I have you I shall never let you go. What do you say to that?"
Sarah tried to speak and failed. She swallowed, licked her lips and tried again. "Who are you?"
He smiled. It wasn't a mean smile, but one filled with knowledge and satisfaction. "I am your life from this point on. I am your love, your master and your slave. I am your everything. I am Jareth."
Her lips twitched upwards hesitantly. "Hello Jareth."
###
I was looking up my story stats the other day and saw something funny. This story only has five reviews but is on 30 favorite stories. That's my third most popular one, and the other two are chapter fics. I had toyed with the idea of adding more one shots to this, and have decided to go through with it since so many seem to love it. I have one other idea to go along with this, but it might not be up till august, seeing as I have work, college, 4H and a trip to the British Isles coming up. Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed this installment.
Posted 6-23-09
