My Dark Beloved - onc 2023 Ambassadors Pick-Longlisted

.9

We head down streets unknown. Though I have been living here for decades, I don't ever remember coming down this path.

The buildings looming before us are made of brick. Gray. Grim. Gritty walled. The windows I see are curtained in dark drapes and whatever light is able to shine down is coming solely the moon. I lead Zillah towards a building so that I can run my hand over the side of a wall and contemplate. A brick is good material for building a house, hotel, store. It's strong. Sturdy. Secure. It's also useful if you want to put someone in a coma. Drown them. Turn their skull into powder.

The streetlights are sparse and all of them are broken, or so I first think. But when I look up, I see there is no space for a bulb. There's a bare wick standing, a thick, white cord-like worm similar to the lamps I once saw in an old movie.

There are no people around. Not that I'd figure anyone would be crazy enough to be prancing down the snowy streets at nearly one AM – or so I think (kind of like I did with the light posts, you see. I'm not being very observant, am I?). When Zillah lightly elbows me in the ribs. I look to where he's pointing to and giggling.

Leaning up against one of the unlit posts is a woman or questionable value who is two meters tall if she's an inch. Pale. Oh, holy hell, she is so pale that she blends with the falling flakes. It's only her garish outfit that vomits out any color and makes her visible. She's dressed in a bubblegum pink mini. Her tube top looks like someone is shining a flashlight on her (Gods and spirits and whatevers, how I hate fluorescent anything). With a flip of her wrist, she tosses an orange boa over a Twiggy-skinny bare shoulders.

"She's got no coat on. I mean, I know she need to show off the goods but isn't she freezing?" I raise a brow thinking of how Lux would have died out here in this weather even if she was wearing three layers of insulation.

Zillah's reply is to unzip my jacket and slide their hands to my belly. "I don't think so, little bird."

The woman turns. She looks toward me and extends a scrawny arm.

"Why do you say that?" I sputter as Zillah's hands pull my shirt out of the waistband of my jeans and their fingers begin a Morse Code of I-Desperately-Want-To-Fuck-You on my skin (OK, I don't know Morse Code. Sue me.).

Zillah does not reply. They're too busy laughing. I have no idea why.

The woman is still reaching for me. She wants me. I blink and her hand appears to be getting closer. She wiggles her finger.  I realize her pale skin isn't skin at all. It's bone. The veil of snow parts. Her face is visible. Polished skull. Darkness where eyes used to be. She licks her lips and her tongue is a snake coming for me. 

"What the fuck?" My surprise only makes Zillah laugh louder.

"Do you see why she's not cold, Elio?" Zillah slides their fingers out from under the warmth of my shirt and takes my hand. "She's dead. All the ladies of the night in the Limelight District died."

Before I can comprehend what the fuck I just saw and heard, my dark beloved pulls me into a nearby building.

Standing in the tiny hallway, I feel like I'm trapped. The walls nearly touch us. That's how small it is.

"What do you mean died?" I finally ask.

Zillah shakes their head. Silver. Silver everywhere. I no longer care about the zombie-whore.

In front of me is a curtain. I'm sure it was once black but it's now faded and patchy, like someone splattered it with bleach and then decided to leave it in the sun for a year. The drape sways gently. I think I see the prostitute's arms reaching for me through the material and I shiver.

I feel like I'm high. Like the coke Zillah gave me last night has resurrected itself and is making me see things. I tell them this and am surprised when they tell me they never gave me any cocaine.

"Opium is my main man, Elio. Why try to get a thrill from Snow White when you could be mounting the dragon?"

"The dragon," I utter.

Zillah nods.

"You really didn't give me ...?"

They shake their head and pushed the curtain open. Before me is a vast room full of candles and people speaking a language I don't understand. The room is orange and yellow with etchings of mythical beasts and lotus flowers on the walls. The floor is cement but is blanketed with elegantly covered mattresses and throw pillows of various shades of red. The glow pulsating around me is pale and beautiful. I feel like I am in a womb; relaxed and ready to be born.

A scent like no other invades me. It is floral, earthy, spicy. It is a conqueror and I am happily enslaved.

"What is this place?" I whisper discretely as a young woman with the most beautiful almond eyes greets us with a silver tray. "Who is she?" Zillah takes the tray and bows to our hostess. When she leaves he replies. "An opium den. She is Kai-Ming. This is where I'm going to teach you how to ride the dragon." They step closer to me. "And then..." their voice is a breath in my ear, "we'll go out and do more of those things you so darkly desire."  

Words: 948  

Total words: 9114