Part 1
A young man and woman, both in their early twenties or so, left a local bar in the middle of the night. The man decided to drive, seeing as he had a special destination in mind for the both of them that night. The sky was clear, with very few clouds. The road was paved in the dim light of the moon. Just bright enough to see maybe 5 or 10 feet ahead. He looked over at the curled up form of the girl with him, an adoring smile on his handsome, smooth shaven face. Her tan skin seemed to glow with a golden hue in the moonlight. Giving her the essence of an angel at sleep. Deciding it was best he kept his eyes on the road; he managed to tear his gaze from her. He thought of all they had been through. The memories flooding back like a flash flood down a steep hill. But they were warm memories. Like bathwater. He thought of his plans for the night. He flexed his fingers a couple of times on the steering wheel and took a small breath. He hoped she would comply with his thoughts.
Finally seeing his destination, he pulled up on a dirt road. Ahead, an old fashioned mansion lay sprawled out before them a few yards ahead. What looked to be the reminents of a lawn was there as well. The small patches of green grass holding what was left of the old homes dignity. Coming to a halt, he gazed upon the old house. It was slightly moss covered. It obviously hadn’t housed a soul in years. Some had said it was haunted. Others just dismissed it completely. Some wanted to bring it down. But the mayor of the old town had decided to keep it as a relic to the history of the town itself. Of course, no one was to ever trespass upon the house, seeing as it now belonged to the government, and was private property. But, he didn’t care. The girl yawned, and turned a sleepy head to him. She gave a half asleep smile, and gave a best fit stretch. She blinked rapidly a few times, and sat up, a look of curiosity on her smooth and silky face. She looked to him, furrowing her eyebrows for a moment. He jumped out of the car, and quickly walked over to her door, opening it up for her; and helping her out. All without a word. A cascade of reddish brown hair fell to her waist as she climbed out of the low riding car. Her small, skimpy leather skirt barely fit over her hip and thighs. Still holding his hand, she raised an eyebrow as she looked to him, and clearing her throat, asked in a monotone. So he wouldn’t think she was scared. “So….where exactly are we? Is this that old house in the middle of nowhere?” she put one hand on her hip, the other gripping his gently.
He nodded to her. “Yeah, it sure is.” His voice was deep, but held a gentle tone to it. He gave her hand a small squeeze, and began to walk forward. She, to his pleasant surprise, followed obediently behind him. A small and rather pleased smile broke across his face, if only for a moment. He didn’t want her thinking he was up to no good with her. They stepped lightly up the porch, and came to a stop at the old rickety door. The light from the moon cast eerie shadows in the corners. But they were young, and had nothing to fear. She came up beside him as they stood there on the porch for a moment. The man contemplated how they would get into the house. He didn’t want to make it seem someone had broken in. Shrugging, he decided he wouldn’t give a s**t, and just turned the doorknob, to find it break off in his hand. He looked down at the old, dusty brass doorknob, blinking stupidly for a moment. Looking up, he looked over at the girl, and gave her a comical grin. The girl replied with a smirk. Without much more thought, the man just lifted up his boot, and with a powerful kick, brought down the door. The girl jumped slightly with surprise at this rather violent entering. The man took her hand again, and led her inside.
Part 2
His calloused hand gently and slowly ran along her smooth skin. Her body became rigid for a moment, and then relaxed at his touch. It had been a few hours since the couple had entered the old house alone. Her heart still beat furiously in her chest. Her thoughts and mind remained a blur. All was lost in the passion. The lust. The love of the affairs of the night. Her small, slender hands traced from his neck down to his lower back, and up again, in a slow, tender-loving motion. Clothes lay scattered around the room and down the stairs as well. Where dust had been lifted, motions of love had begun. He gingerly kissed her neck once more, as he lay on top of her, careful not to hurt her as he continued to run his hand from her buttocks to her knee along the bottom of her thigh. Their naked forms pressed together and the sheets and pillows of the bed were outlined along the far wall, as the moon slowly began to make its’ trek to the other side of the earth.
His breathing was shallow. His heart also beat furiously in his chest. He still wanted more though. Love was like an addiction. You can never get enough of it. He had heard that once. Now, he knew it was true. He knew their relationship would never be the same after this. Gently placing his head on her chest over her heart, he decided he’d let them rest for a while. She slowly closed her eyes, after having stared at the ceiling, and into his eyes, for the past few moments. Her body ached from it, but she still felt so good. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. A small smile curved upon her luscious lips. Squeezing his side, she slowly sat up, bringing the sheets about her chest. He got off of her, and sat off to the side. Reaching out to the night stand beside them, she took the watch he had brought along off of it, and checked the time. It was only 3 o’ clock, and they hadn’t even broken out into a major sweat yet. Something inside of her had hoped they would be like those romance movies. Or possibly, those James Bond movies. The thought alone made her giggle softly.
She looked over at the slouched form of her lover. The same adoring smile that had adorned his lips when he had looked upon her came across her lips. Softness and loving came into her eyes. Then a playful smile flew onto her lips as she dragged herself over to him, and laid one hand on his back, and began rubbing his upper back muscles. She could feel how tense his muscles were from relaxing and tensing, and relaxing, over and over again. She wondered if he ached just as she did. Rolling her eyes, she thought to herself, probably not. Cast in the moonlight, she laid her head on his other shoulder as she kept her hand on the other. Lifting her head, she looked upon him with her lips planted softly between his shoulder and neck. She then slowly began to work her lips up his neck, softly and slowly. A shiver ran down his back as he slowly closed his eyes. She stopped at his chin, where she tilted her head and watched the affect she had upon the man. A soft smile came upon her lips. She uttered quietly in his ear, “I’m gonna go get some water, okay baby?” and planted a quick kiss on his earlobe as she flung the sheets off of her. She quickly grabbed up her clothing, and put some of it on. She was brave enough to walk around in only her underwear.
Part 3
She carefully stepped down the stairs, one by one. Many of them creaked, and some gave in. She kept herself from screaming by clasping one of her hands to her mouth and pulling herself quickly backwards as a black widow crawled across the stair just before she put her foot down. The man lay back on the bed. He had decided to put his boxers back on, for he hoped, would be for only the time being. Placing his hands behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling. Light brown eyes with flecks of green studied the old wood. He was surprised the house was even still standing. A smirk came across his lips, and held fast. His eyes began to steadily close, but he fought to keep himself awake. A pang of worry made his side spasm for a moment, almost jarring him awake to the truth. It had been some time, and she hadn’t returned. Looking over, he stretched out his long, muscular arm, and grabbed the watch. Holding it up to his face, he pressed the light button. It had been about 15 minutes. He knew it didn’t take that long to get a glass of water.
With purpose, the man rose out of the bed quickly and as silently as the house would permit, and crept out of the room. He silently spoke her name a few times, but with no response. Fear and worry slowly began to creep into his mind. Had something happened to her? Why is it so silent? Was she alright? As only a few hours before, his adrenaline began to stir. His heart began to beat faster. But this time, it wasn’t for something special. It wasn’t out of love or desire, but out of anguish and apprehension. An obscure shadow on a wall in the hall made him curious. Trekking forward, he came to a sudden stop, and stood straight and rigid. His heart seemed to skip a beat. His pupils dilated, and his hands began to shake. The shadow was of a woman’s feet and legs, dangling in mid air. The color drained from his face. Leaving him looking as pale as a ghost. Robotically, he slowly walked into the room, where before him, hung the one he loved. Blood slowly dripped down the side of her palms, onto the cold wooden floor below from where her wrist had been cut, down to the bone. A framed picture stood beneath her dangling body.
A bloody hand print smeared across what was left of the fragmented glass within the picture frame was the only sign of some kind of struggle. The rest of the glass was strewn across the floor. The area looked to be like something from some kind of horror movie. He slowly fell to his knees. Glass cut the skin on his knees. But none of that mattered now to him. Tears began to well up in the side of his eyes. His face held an expression of being lost. That painful feeling of loss was beginning to well up slowly inside him, like a slow acting life threatening disease. He gently and slowly brought his hands up to her feet, cradling them in his hands. His mind was numb, he felt a chill in his heart, and he had never felt before. Tears began to fall thick and fast down his cheeks. Chokingly, he uttered “why, why, why, why….” Over and over again as he pressed his forehead to her feet, and gritted his teeth as he closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tears.
After a while, his tears began to stop falling, and he took a deep breath. Looking up into her cold, dead face, he shuddered, and gulped. His throat was sore, his eyes puffy and red. A few rays of sun light began to filter through the old house. It was almost dawn. How did it become tomorrow so quickly? Even the warmth of the suns rays felt cold on his skin. Finally, he noticed something written on the wall behind the girl. Shakily, he stood up, gently releasing her feet. He slowly, and once more, robotically, walked over to the wall, and stood back to read it. Squinting, he blinked a few times, and wiped his eyes. “Absentia, Tamen Non Forgotten.” His heart seemed to skip a beat again. He knew what that was from. A far off noise he had not noticed before drifted to him from another room in the home.
Part 4
Looking over, a slightly confused look came to his face. He raised an eyebrow, and then made his way over to the noise. Letting his ears take him to the soft music, he entered a rather small room. Like the rest of the house, it held an archaic look to it. On the right side of the room, sitting on an old bedside stand, was a phonograph. It was skipping whatever song was playing. Questions zoomed through his mind. Who started this? What was it playing? Why was it playing? Then as he took a step forward, he faltered. Could the people that killed his girlfriend, still be inside the house? He gave a quick look around, and then headed for the phonograph. He wondered how something so old could still be playing. Listening closely, he figured out the words the phonograph had been skipping. “Oh the pi-pic-pic-turesctures have all b-b-been wash-ed-ed in black, tat-tat-ta-tatttooed everything…” He listened to the lyrics, as they skipped. A mournful look came across his face. He turned away from the phonograph, as if to leave, and then turned back to the old-fashioned machine. He took the album off of it, and fixed the phonograph. Once he set the album back down, it began to play the song, this time, without skipping. He uttered the name of the song vaguely into the up and coming dawn. “Black.”
A young man and woman, both in their early twenties or so, left a local bar in the middle of the night. The man decided to drive, seeing as he had a special destination in mind for the both of them that night. The sky was clear, with very few clouds. The road was paved in the dim light of the moon. Just bright enough to see maybe 5 or 10 feet ahead. He looked over at the curled up form of the girl with him, an adoring smile on his handsome, smooth shaven face. Her tan skin seemed to glow with a golden hue in the moonlight. Giving her the essence of an angel at sleep. Deciding it was best he kept his eyes on the road; he managed to tear his gaze from her. He thought of all they had been through. The memories flooding back like a flash flood down a steep hill. But they were warm memories. Like bathwater. He thought of his plans for the night. He flexed his fingers a couple of times on the steering wheel and took a small breath. He hoped she would comply with his thoughts.
Finally seeing his destination, he pulled up on a dirt road. Ahead, an old fashioned mansion lay sprawled out before them a few yards ahead. What looked to be the reminents of a lawn was there as well. The small patches of green grass holding what was left of the old homes dignity. Coming to a halt, he gazed upon the old house. It was slightly moss covered. It obviously hadn’t housed a soul in years. Some had said it was haunted. Others just dismissed it completely. Some wanted to bring it down. But the mayor of the old town had decided to keep it as a relic to the history of the town itself. Of course, no one was to ever trespass upon the house, seeing as it now belonged to the government, and was private property. But, he didn’t care. The girl yawned, and turned a sleepy head to him. She gave a half asleep smile, and gave a best fit stretch. She blinked rapidly a few times, and sat up, a look of curiosity on her smooth and silky face. She looked to him, furrowing her eyebrows for a moment. He jumped out of the car, and quickly walked over to her door, opening it up for her; and helping her out. All without a word. A cascade of reddish brown hair fell to her waist as she climbed out of the low riding car. Her small, skimpy leather skirt barely fit over her hip and thighs. Still holding his hand, she raised an eyebrow as she looked to him, and clearing her throat, asked in a monotone. So he wouldn’t think she was scared. “So….where exactly are we? Is this that old house in the middle of nowhere?” she put one hand on her hip, the other gripping his gently.
He nodded to her. “Yeah, it sure is.” His voice was deep, but held a gentle tone to it. He gave her hand a small squeeze, and began to walk forward. She, to his pleasant surprise, followed obediently behind him. A small and rather pleased smile broke across his face, if only for a moment. He didn’t want her thinking he was up to no good with her. They stepped lightly up the porch, and came to a stop at the old rickety door. The light from the moon cast eerie shadows in the corners. But they were young, and had nothing to fear. She came up beside him as they stood there on the porch for a moment. The man contemplated how they would get into the house. He didn’t want to make it seem someone had broken in. Shrugging, he decided he wouldn’t give a s**t, and just turned the doorknob, to find it break off in his hand. He looked down at the old, dusty brass doorknob, blinking stupidly for a moment. Looking up, he looked over at the girl, and gave her a comical grin. The girl replied with a smirk. Without much more thought, the man just lifted up his boot, and with a powerful kick, brought down the door. The girl jumped slightly with surprise at this rather violent entering. The man took her hand again, and led her inside.
Part 2
His calloused hand gently and slowly ran along her smooth skin. Her body became rigid for a moment, and then relaxed at his touch. It had been a few hours since the couple had entered the old house alone. Her heart still beat furiously in her chest. Her thoughts and mind remained a blur. All was lost in the passion. The lust. The love of the affairs of the night. Her small, slender hands traced from his neck down to his lower back, and up again, in a slow, tender-loving motion. Clothes lay scattered around the room and down the stairs as well. Where dust had been lifted, motions of love had begun. He gingerly kissed her neck once more, as he lay on top of her, careful not to hurt her as he continued to run his hand from her buttocks to her knee along the bottom of her thigh. Their naked forms pressed together and the sheets and pillows of the bed were outlined along the far wall, as the moon slowly began to make its’ trek to the other side of the earth.
His breathing was shallow. His heart also beat furiously in his chest. He still wanted more though. Love was like an addiction. You can never get enough of it. He had heard that once. Now, he knew it was true. He knew their relationship would never be the same after this. Gently placing his head on her chest over her heart, he decided he’d let them rest for a while. She slowly closed her eyes, after having stared at the ceiling, and into his eyes, for the past few moments. Her body ached from it, but she still felt so good. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. A small smile curved upon her luscious lips. Squeezing his side, she slowly sat up, bringing the sheets about her chest. He got off of her, and sat off to the side. Reaching out to the night stand beside them, she took the watch he had brought along off of it, and checked the time. It was only 3 o’ clock, and they hadn’t even broken out into a major sweat yet. Something inside of her had hoped they would be like those romance movies. Or possibly, those James Bond movies. The thought alone made her giggle softly.
She looked over at the slouched form of her lover. The same adoring smile that had adorned his lips when he had looked upon her came across her lips. Softness and loving came into her eyes. Then a playful smile flew onto her lips as she dragged herself over to him, and laid one hand on his back, and began rubbing his upper back muscles. She could feel how tense his muscles were from relaxing and tensing, and relaxing, over and over again. She wondered if he ached just as she did. Rolling her eyes, she thought to herself, probably not. Cast in the moonlight, she laid her head on his other shoulder as she kept her hand on the other. Lifting her head, she looked upon him with her lips planted softly between his shoulder and neck. She then slowly began to work her lips up his neck, softly and slowly. A shiver ran down his back as he slowly closed his eyes. She stopped at his chin, where she tilted her head and watched the affect she had upon the man. A soft smile came upon her lips. She uttered quietly in his ear, “I’m gonna go get some water, okay baby?” and planted a quick kiss on his earlobe as she flung the sheets off of her. She quickly grabbed up her clothing, and put some of it on. She was brave enough to walk around in only her underwear.
Part 3
She carefully stepped down the stairs, one by one. Many of them creaked, and some gave in. She kept herself from screaming by clasping one of her hands to her mouth and pulling herself quickly backwards as a black widow crawled across the stair just before she put her foot down. The man lay back on the bed. He had decided to put his boxers back on, for he hoped, would be for only the time being. Placing his hands behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling. Light brown eyes with flecks of green studied the old wood. He was surprised the house was even still standing. A smirk came across his lips, and held fast. His eyes began to steadily close, but he fought to keep himself awake. A pang of worry made his side spasm for a moment, almost jarring him awake to the truth. It had been some time, and she hadn’t returned. Looking over, he stretched out his long, muscular arm, and grabbed the watch. Holding it up to his face, he pressed the light button. It had been about 15 minutes. He knew it didn’t take that long to get a glass of water.
With purpose, the man rose out of the bed quickly and as silently as the house would permit, and crept out of the room. He silently spoke her name a few times, but with no response. Fear and worry slowly began to creep into his mind. Had something happened to her? Why is it so silent? Was she alright? As only a few hours before, his adrenaline began to stir. His heart began to beat faster. But this time, it wasn’t for something special. It wasn’t out of love or desire, but out of anguish and apprehension. An obscure shadow on a wall in the hall made him curious. Trekking forward, he came to a sudden stop, and stood straight and rigid. His heart seemed to skip a beat. His pupils dilated, and his hands began to shake. The shadow was of a woman’s feet and legs, dangling in mid air. The color drained from his face. Leaving him looking as pale as a ghost. Robotically, he slowly walked into the room, where before him, hung the one he loved. Blood slowly dripped down the side of her palms, onto the cold wooden floor below from where her wrist had been cut, down to the bone. A framed picture stood beneath her dangling body.
A bloody hand print smeared across what was left of the fragmented glass within the picture frame was the only sign of some kind of struggle. The rest of the glass was strewn across the floor. The area looked to be like something from some kind of horror movie. He slowly fell to his knees. Glass cut the skin on his knees. But none of that mattered now to him. Tears began to well up in the side of his eyes. His face held an expression of being lost. That painful feeling of loss was beginning to well up slowly inside him, like a slow acting life threatening disease. He gently and slowly brought his hands up to her feet, cradling them in his hands. His mind was numb, he felt a chill in his heart, and he had never felt before. Tears began to fall thick and fast down his cheeks. Chokingly, he uttered “why, why, why, why….” Over and over again as he pressed his forehead to her feet, and gritted his teeth as he closed his eyes, trying to hold back the tears.
After a while, his tears began to stop falling, and he took a deep breath. Looking up into her cold, dead face, he shuddered, and gulped. His throat was sore, his eyes puffy and red. A few rays of sun light began to filter through the old house. It was almost dawn. How did it become tomorrow so quickly? Even the warmth of the suns rays felt cold on his skin. Finally, he noticed something written on the wall behind the girl. Shakily, he stood up, gently releasing her feet. He slowly, and once more, robotically, walked over to the wall, and stood back to read it. Squinting, he blinked a few times, and wiped his eyes. “Absentia, Tamen Non Forgotten.” His heart seemed to skip a beat again. He knew what that was from. A far off noise he had not noticed before drifted to him from another room in the home.
Part 4
Looking over, a slightly confused look came to his face. He raised an eyebrow, and then made his way over to the noise. Letting his ears take him to the soft music, he entered a rather small room. Like the rest of the house, it held an archaic look to it. On the right side of the room, sitting on an old bedside stand, was a phonograph. It was skipping whatever song was playing. Questions zoomed through his mind. Who started this? What was it playing? Why was it playing? Then as he took a step forward, he faltered. Could the people that killed his girlfriend, still be inside the house? He gave a quick look around, and then headed for the phonograph. He wondered how something so old could still be playing. Listening closely, he figured out the words the phonograph had been skipping. “Oh the pi-pic-pic-turesctures have all b-b-been wash-ed-ed in black, tat-tat-ta-tatttooed everything…” He listened to the lyrics, as they skipped. A mournful look came across his face. He turned away from the phonograph, as if to leave, and then turned back to the old-fashioned machine. He took the album off of it, and fixed the phonograph. Once he set the album back down, it began to play the song, this time, without skipping. He uttered the name of the song vaguely into the up and coming dawn. “Black.”
