The spectre of a creature inhabiting the dark places of our subconscious emerges into consciousness once more. It’s been a while since I visited this landscape, the last time was in Ancient Bloodline – Moonlit # writephoto. Love, although a dysfunctional and destructive one, was the basis of that story. How could it be otherwise when it involves the Lady of the Bright Red Linen (one epithet of the goddess Sekhmet) and demons such as vampires. The ending was not a happy one. Why should it be?
The memory of that tale and an old project prompts me to weave another story involving yearning and love. My interest lies in exploring the depths of this creature’s psyche and also ours. Whether I succeed remains to be seen. Alas my protagonist doesn’t fare well much like the one in “Ancient Bloodline”. Crimson kisses and exquisitely painful emotions lead only to oblivion. My general of armies of darkness and blood has followed his ancient Egyptian priestess through centuries of search. Often glimpsing her but not quite able to touch, until now. Such an obsession is his undoing.
A fleeting glance is all I yearn and you give my heart’s desire in full measure. I walk in daylight but shadows envelope like obsidian wings a soul damned unto eternity. Such memories mingle with my life blood, they burn into my dreams time after time. Yearning and desire wrap this body in an ever tightening embrace. Love brings me to the edge of destruction. My priestess, no, you were never mine. Your allegiance is to gods our armies are well acquainted with and fearful of. The chasm between chaos and balance ever widens, as does the one between fulfilment and loss.
Immortality brought with it an endless ocean of experiences; a thirst for knowledge and deeper, crimson edged pleasures. Ultimately, only emptiness remained to console this lifeless heart. Until the moment I glimpsed you in an ancient marketplace. You were forbidden and dangerous. A seductive potion waiting to be sipped. I desired neither your destruction nor life blood. You were an immortal like me but not a creature of shadows and night cravings. Ah, child and priestess of Sekhmet how you inflame my senses. One touch, just one kiss is all I crave. I cannot subdue your spirit but what a spirit!
She approaches, hands cup my face and lips hungrily cover mine. Such gentleness and love she shows. Endless is this embrace, then, she leaves me bereft. Fingers read every contour of my face, committing each to memory. My lifeless heart surges into life for a brief moment, such pain and joy pour into it.
I am but helpless under her spell and ministrations. Tears pour down my cheeks in response. What manner of sorcery is this? She gazes in utter stillness, dark eyes gleaming like stars. Such hunger pours over she and I. The red tide surges through me, its currents are powerful but I resist. Words of longing are whispered against silken skin and perfumed hair. I live once more, truly live.
Her voice soothes my passion and distress. We speak without words, weave a tale of new beginnings. My hunger grows stronger but the raging beast must be held back. She senses as much and calls forth ancient spells to bind the crimson tide. I am undone, on the edge of a precipice. The beast within gazes intently at the beauty before it. Something is wrong. In her stead now stands the Lady of the Bright Red Linen, Great Sekhmet. She soothes our fear, the beast and man retreat from anger. She tells us what we have tasted, loved shall never be ours. For her child’s sake we are spared the final death. For love’s sake we are spared such an end. Desolation makes it’s home in my dead heart. She is gone.