by Thomas Kurkoski

Created on: December 30, 2008

Darkness fell over his eyes as night descended once more upon his mind. His brain became opaque to all thoughts and he squinted maliciously. All his nerve endings and his skin seared in flaming agony. And then, all for him was lost.

A flash of cold and goose flesh rippled across the whole of his body. His eyes jolted open with such a force that they burned relentlessly in total discomfort. He shivered as the air rushed around him, drying the sweat that had seeped from his pores. The sun shone brightly over him but did nothing to lighten his mood. It was always this way for him. It was just a dream, another string of vividly imagined happenings tucked away in the deepest pit of his mind; forgotten yet remembered.

Then he realized the cold was not on the outside, but more on his inside, as if it were pulsing through his veins, mingling with his bloodand that of many others.

He winced and his entire body was wrought with spasms. Shock invaded his mind as the vision of his dark moment melded into a reality. He wiped the blood from his hands onto the silks and satins blanketing him. Frightened as he was the tranquility of sleep came and enveloped him.

Although unconscious, for a split second he mated with divinity and opened his mind to acceptance. To all things, him self included. He knew somewhere, that he was evil incarnate, yet he refused to believe it. The inky blackness intrinsic to slumber drained from his mind opening his inner eye to things that he dared not place stock in. Within this particular dreamscape he was lying next to his wife, his beautiful wife of past, he thought in the chamber of his mind. Then there was thick charcoal blackness, but only for a moment. It was as if his minds eye was merely blinking, but when it reopened so did the wound. With each passing breath it grew painfully more detailed. Each time it happened it was like a recurring dream that was easing its way from his brain into his real and actual life.

It was as if he had stepped outside of himself and was examining the scene. His sleep was now about him becoming progressively more disturbed and troubled. There he looked. He saw himself over her, his eyes half-open, yet still visibly clear and grey and cold. His eyes appeared as if they had been forged from the devil's dagger. Then he caught sight of, was drawn to, his mouth. His lips red and glistening as if they were kin to the elongated pointed canines embedded in his gums. He was looming over her the mattress was nothing more

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