[Venomous Vixen]

**This was written based on a dream I had last night. With a layer of words added to the images I experienced, well it's a bit different than what I am used to but I was urged to post it by someone Enjoy.


Howling, the moon stood, a lone beacon in the sky as the trees lidded his gaze. The road wound between the peaks of the mountain, dipping and rising again, just to throw in another curve. It was well past midnight, and I was arriving far later than planned, but something about the somber night made it all seem worthwhile. My thoughts lulled and crested, rolling over one another as the endless road stretched out before me.

Almost missing my exit, I made a last minute turn at the nearly unrecognizable sign. Tiny flecks of amber danced in the distance; the Goddesses were already underway in their first night’s rituals. I had been anxiously awaiting the retreat for many moons, looking forward to divulging myself in the other women’s experiences, and getting lost in the beauty of it all. The flames grew closer as I swung my car into one of the last empty spots, hurriedly collecting my things so I could join in the festivities.

As I reached my assigned cabin, something pulled my once anxious thoughts away from the circle of women and resigned it to the inside of the damp, dreary quarters. The wood lined walls were warped from the morning mist, angled into an almost frown as they gazed upon me with suspicion. The floor felt as mischievous as a school boy, gazing far too long up the length of my skirts; and with eyes like a cat, the slanted window panes picked the confines of my nearly swarming mind. It was a complete and utter violation of my senses, and somehow it got me slightly aroused.

Not sure how much time had passed in this seduction between the room and I, I noticed the flames no longer flickered up and down with dance, and the fire was down to the last pitiful embers of its existence. Damn! I had missed the first night altogether. Reluctantly pulling myself from the room’s stare, I began readying my things for the weekend ahead. I knew I needed to get some sleep, so I did not miss anything else during the conference.

The silence hummed like white noise, swarming and planting itself directly inside my ear; I brushed my teeth twice as long just to break the irritating absence of sound. Had I not been so engrossed in creating noise, I may not have missed the distinct sound of a twig breaking just outside, nor the almost inaudible footsteps approaching from behind. It was not the sound that alerted me, but the sensation.

Cold trickled over my body, like a wave of ice, it slid from my toes, up the curves of my thighs and hips, around my breasts until it washed over me entirely. My teeth chattered of their own accord. I spun around and saw him, alabaster flesh tinged with hues of deep ocean glaciers, darkening beneath his eyes and the dips beneath his neck. His eyes flashed amber at me; though rich in color, they appeared hollow and soulless, boring into mine with pure evil.

He motioned me to his side and my body answered, with no regard for my mind. We stepped outside, his hand freezing the small of my back, his eyes boring into my shoulders. I could smell death, darkness; I wondered if the others slept soundly through all of this or if this man had single-handedly massacred the Goddesses.

One by one they appeared, the low rumbling of Harleys, driven by faceless men at terrifying speeds. They stopped only long enough to dump the stolen spirits of the women that just hours ago danced and breathed such life. I watched as their bodies dissipated into the clouded air and their souls seeped into the mulch beneath my feet.

His gaze ripped me from the horrifying scene that unfolded before us, capturing my body in its clutches once again. His fingers, long and slender, planted themselves upon my cheeks. I could tell something was wrong, I knew I should be joining the others but his stare told me he couldn’t dismember my body from soul. Frustrated, he grunted his dissatisfaction and threw me backwards.

The large redwood that halted my motion felt motherly, like a cocoon against the evil that danced beneath her skirts. I embraced the sensation for a moment before pulling my body up to face him once again, but he was gone. Daylight began filtering in through the thick layer of branches above, and with it returned the spirit of the forest. Silence was replaced with chirping birds and busy squirrels. In the safety of Mother Nature I collapsed, exhausted, drifting to a dreamless sleep.

By the time I awoke on the bed of brush, the sun had long since had its evening tango and the moon was back, grinning at me once again. I felt the cold, it crept along my skin again, boring itself into the depths of me, but this time I almost welcomed it. There was not death accompanying the arousal, no stench of evil, just his amber gaze and frosted body.

It no longer mattered from where he came, that he was born of darkness’s womb, or I from the loins of purity. I needed him, and he, me. As he lifted my body back into the quarters which felt a million memories ago, I wrapped my arms around him and bore my face into his breast. Warmth from my flesh mingled with the ice from his, rising above us both in a forbidden steam that vanished before the trees’ knowing eyes.

He laid me on the bed as he ran a bath, which at any other time may have seemed odd, but now I was too engrossed in his gaze to pay any mind. He stripped away my skirts and corset, lingering against my flesh and teasing my deepest desires. Like a snake, he slithered down the now mindful floor, into the depths of the water and emerged a sort of half melted, half frozen creature.

With eyes once amber they now flickered charcoal, and his bone structure protruded from the human like state to that of an animal. Slithering back on top of my body he pierced my mouth with that of pure death, his tongue swarming the taste into the back of my throat. I could feel dampness in between my legs, and taste my sisters on my breath.

With one final look he plunged inside of me, fire and ice meeting and melding into one another in the depths of my body. His teeth pierced my shoulder, as he drank of my life and I took in his death, I could feel the cold winning the battle. My body succumbed to the takeover and inch by inch pushed the warmth, the memory, the life I had known out of the shell that would remain.

As the final separation took place he kissed me once again, this time death mixing with death, cold with cold and I knew my place would now be at his side. My demon, my darkness, my love. I wrapped myself in the last drops of pleasure, keeping him deep inside as I pulsed around him. His eyes flickered back to the rich amber, and I imagined mine now reflected a similar, soulless hue.

I could feel daylight upon us, burning my flesh like hot fire. Wrapped together, still we sunk, deeper into the bed, under the mindful floor, beneath the cat eyes and wooden frown, between the Goddesses claimed souls, and beyond, into a place of darkness and pain. He released me only to perch me upon a throne beside him. Our kingdom, our penance, my love.

[Vorcla]

God...

That's what I said when you first ran this past me, and that's still my first reaction. Like getting hit with a phaser on heavy stun. I pretty much lost my ability to speak or even think. I just got absorbed in the images.

This is terrifyingly beautiful, hun. Your words...your words...I can't find words to tell you how much I love your words. You employ all of your formidable poetic gifts, personifications, metaphors, even though it's a prose piece - that wonderful "poet's voice" of yours. Extremely vivid, extremely well done.

As I am wont to say, "damned fine."

[Venomous Vixen]

Thank you very much. This one is, ummm, a bit different But then again, anything inspired by a dream generally is.

[Ambrose]

I got a bit hung up on the mindful floor. I didn't know what you meant by it and then I remembered you describing the floor as mischievous earlier. Mindful to me doesn't necessarily convey a lack of mischief, unless you tact on "of its behavior". I would try to describe that differently. Also, I would steer away from bombastic phrases like "breathed such life" and "that of pure death" and concentrate on communicating more. What does breath such life mean? What is that of that of pure death?

I like the part about the hot and cold bodies coming together and producing a forbidden steam. I also liked the way you described the cold sensation the main character feels at the beginning. Everything else is suitably dreamish and there's not much I can say other than weirdness.

[Gurdit]

angled into an almost frown

angled almost into a frown, I think.

up the length of my skirts

Curiosity...why plural? One would assume you only wore one skirt at a time . While you stood in that room there, one would assume that that naughty school boy could only try to look up that one skirt you are/were wearing at that moment.


Nice writing, Bri. Not as good as some of your other prose that I've read (I remember the first one you wrote had made me jealous that it wasn't me who had written it), but still this one's pretty good. You seem to have very darkly vivid dreams,but the concept is very typical of you. In fact, I think the prose piece I mentioned a couple of lines ago had a similar basis.

Right up to half-way through, there was barely anything wrong with it apart from the two things I've mentioned first in this review. However, from there, it kinda felt like you were trying too hard to maintain the mood of the first two paragraphs. After the appearance of Lucipher (or Satan or whatever you wanna call the Prince of Darkness), there were a lot of phrases that seemed quite repetitive -- "depths of my body", "stench of evil". Looking at this from a writer's point of view (because you know my writing style of prose is quite similar to this -- short and more experience-based), I know that while writing, certain images and ideas get stuck in your head much longer and have a deeper impact than others, and thus, repetition becomes quite an easy thing to do. However, I now see why Nupur keeps pointing out all my repetitions . These phrases are wonderful to the writer to read over and over again, but for a reader who has not had that dream or has not seen those images, they seem a tad forced.

Initially, I was curious to know what kind of "conference" you were going to. A conference involving "Goddesses" doing a ritual around a fire is something that you could have explored. I really feel you could have lengthened this further by keeping the mood a little more positive during the first half, perhaps focussing the protagonist's thoughts on this meeting and her opinions and expectations of what it would be like. And then, the second half is where the "colour black" would pervade through the content, filling up the mood just as the icy cold feeling filled up your prot's body.

And just one more point I think I might mention. You have written this in the first person,but from the appearance of the white-skinned dude, the majority of the story becomes more like a narrative of events. Very occasionally do you tell us what the protagonist is FEELING. I think there might have been more along the lines of "I felt like...". You seem to have used passive voice more than active. Somehow, when writing first person, I always seem to prefer active voice more.

The ending was also really good. Your content faded slowly, just as how the protagonist faded slowly below the surface of the earth. The last line is killer as well.

[Venomous Vixen]

Thank you Ambrose. I think this was the first time I attempted to transition a slightly disturbing dream into words on a page, and I do agree certain phrases need a bit of work. Though I was rather fond of the pure death one... though one might not know what it tastes like let me tell you, in my dream I did, and that was the only phrase that came to mind, very vividly actually. As always, I appreciate the time you take to read and review my work!

Tid - First off, skirts... well yes plural actually, like petticoats beneath a skirts I believe are referred to in this manner but I will double check. Thank you very much much for the praise and criticism, I will look it all over and see what I can do. Missed your reviews

[Lubesh]

Firstly, skirts is correct.....well i use it lol. Secondly, that was incredibleand tho u say was froma dream, full credit you must take for adding the words...I've neevr seen writing (full in many regards)from you like this....awesome,amazing and bloody well done...the bloody welldone comes from you as a newb and the little girl and beast prose...

[Venomous Vixen]

Thank you very much Lu

[RENA HANDS]

Sweet DAMM! And I thought your conscious writings were GREAT! I couldn’t decide which section that I LOVED best, so I will say...I LOVED IT ALL! And always I have to rate your BRILLIANCE, 5/5! (Just wickedly evil!)

[Venomous Vixen]

Thank you very much Rena~!

[yume no hasu]

Oh wow, I really enjoyed this. It is absolutely speechless, and the imagery is super. I loved the action and there were no moments rushed or too slow. It was simply lovely and it is just the sort of thing I love reading. I hope you have more like this.
Keep writing!