Remember Me. D. E. White

       Chapter 9

      I saw her naked last night. It was delicious and disturbing. It’s such a long time since I have touched her bare skin. I’m surprised how easy it was to slip the drug into her drink, but I suppose the awkwardness of the situation put her off guard. I’ve done this so many times before. Usually I’m there when they wake up, and to be honest, I prefer them to know what’s happening. It’s more exciting. This was a bit different, and just a tiny taster of what I have planned.

      Now, I’m alone in my room, reliving the thrill of last night, hugging my arms around me, and almost shivering with excitement. Will she know something happened to her, after she crept into her hard bed, or will she just dismiss it as a hangover? Will she sense where my fingers trailed across her body? My invisible prints would cover every inch of her skin. I noted a couple of new scars, the way her hips have thickened slightly with age, but she’s in great physical shape, with long lean muscles, and high, firm breasts. She is still my Ava.

      I could have done more, God knows, I could have done a lot more, but the last game must be played slowly and carefully, so I can savour each new move.

      My visit was timed to the second, and whilst I played, I made myself constantly aware of the tick-tock of the clock on her bedside table. It took a while to get what I needed, but I am a bit of an expert at my craft, and whilst I hate to give credit, I did learn from a master.

      The knife is new each time, and of course it had to be pristine and unsullied for Ava – anything else would be sacrilege. I cut very slowly, relishing the dots of scarlet springing up as the blade slid across her pale skin. I may have even panted a little as the blood became a red thread, its presence startling and out of place against the homely setting of the Birtleys’ best bedroom.

      Before I could stop myself, I knelt by the side of the bed, lowered my head and licked the wound. The sweet, metallic taste is always so sensual, but with Ava it was more. She was like nectar on my tongue. She is special. I was part of her, and just for a moment, I held her in my mouth. Her breathing got a little faster, almost like she recognised I was there, and I waited until she quietened again, almost holding my own breath.

      Tick-tock, and I couldn’t do any more that night. She is supposed to wonder, but not to know. Not yet.

      Petulantly, like a child cheated out of a bag of sweets, I left my parting gift next to the obnoxious yellow bedside lamp and slipped stealthily back across the room. Two minutes, and I paused at the foot of the bed, relented, and allowed myself a final treat…

      Leaning down, I felt her warm breath on my cheek, and my lips found hers. A gentle, chaste kiss, but I fought the urge to tear at her lips like a ravenous animal.

      A last look and I was back at the door. The house was shadowed, quiet, and I let myself out, and walked home. The freezing air was nothing to me, and elation warmed my blood. I hurried back, eager to move my player along to the next square.

      The hill is always an effort, but I paused at the halfway point to admire the shadows, the dips of blackness where the evil things dwell, and the eerie moonlight that turns the Big Water into crumpled paper.

      Now, with a few stolen moments alone, I can relive my night, before I face the world of normality. My game face is back on, and I’m ready for our next meeting.

      ‘Wnaethoch chi gysgu’n dda neithiwr, Ava Cole?’

      ‘Did you sleep well last night, Ava Cole?’