It happened every night. Him, that despicable, no-good, tight-panted weevil disguising himself as prince charming and infecting even the sweetest of dreams and transforming them into something dark, primal. It's not fair! Jareth the wicked fae king she had just beaten three months prior had decided to employ psychological torture for she saw him everywhere. In every mirror, the lake in the park even in her morning teacup. i'm surprised Karen hasn't made little jabs at me like: Robert dear i knew all those stories were messing up with her mind, we should consult a psychologist.
Each time she saw him, Jareth smiled predatorily at her and with a hungry look in his eyes and she could swear the wind murmured: precious. But the worst were the nights, there Jareth would employ... seduction. Sarah remembered last night's dream vividely: rose petals, golden room and a feast. Before her stood the Goblin King in all his flamboyance.
Why do you resist me, Sarah-mine? You know i could give you pleasure beyond pleasure, you just have to make a little, insignificant wish.
You do not fool me, Goblin King, i know every wish has a prize now and i read enough books about faeries to know that they can hold a grudge.
Ah, little-girl but even my vengeance will be...mutually enjoyable.
I suddenly found myself into Jareth's lap his hands touching the small of my leans in and wispers: You shall pay, precious than he brutally kisses her, biting Sarah on her lips.