Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
But it cannot be love.
I close my eyes to the sight of her, trying to grapple with the truth.
It can’t be love.
I cannot love this woman, my captive, my pet, my Syren, my little fish. I cannot love her because I lost my heart centuries ago, and I know what happens to the ones I love.
My love stories never get a happy ending.
A cold sweat breaks out on my brow, and I slowly sit up. For the first time, I contemplate running. Leaving. I’ll throw myself into that ocean and make myself drown. But I’ll never drown; I’ll never die. I am in love with this woman, and she will haunt me until the end of time. She will make a nest in my heart and stay there, caught behind the prison bars of my ribs. She is bound to me whether either of us likes it, and I will never be free of her, never be free from this feeling that’s slowly taking over my existence.
I rub my hands over my face, trying to gain composure and calm my ratcheting pulse. There’s something happening deep inside me, some strange sensation that comes from a dark place, that endless grave recently unearthed. It’s not my heart, which feels as if it’s balancing on a precipice, but something vile spreading in the marrow of my bones.
No. No, God, please don’t let this happen now.
I have tried for so long to keep this monster at bay; this can’t be happening now.
Fear jettisons through me, and I press the back of my hand against my mouth, feeling as if I might be sick. I glance down at Larimar sleeping soundly, and I know I can’t be around her, not until I know I have things under control.
I quickly get out of bed and slip on my trousers, and then I step out into the night. The clouds have come in, and rain falls, cold and heavy, but I barely feel it.
I only make it halfway to the church when I feel it clawing up through me. I drop to my knees and vomit blood into the grass.
No. I must keep it buried. I must stay in control.
I must.
I’ve managed to hide that old beast deep down, no matter what was thrown my way. I used the rigid teachings of the book to keep me in line. I always thought that if I deviated from God’s word in some way, that’s when I would slip, and the monster would take advantage. I thought if I didn’t kill, I would be saved. I thought if I didn’t give into my lustful, depraved urges, I would be saved.
But, it turns out, none of that matters.
I killed that soldier, with or without Larimar’s help, and the beast stayed asleep.
I fucked Larimar and defiled her in every single way possible. I became a slave to my deepest and darkest sexual desires.
And though the beast woke up, it didn’t escape from its cage.
But now that I feel like my heart has gotten involved, now that real emotions are coming to light, that is what is bringing this monster inside me to life.
I knew keeping her here would be dangerous, not only for her, but for me.
And now I know why.
I spit and get up, stumbling the rest of the way to the church, barging in through the doors like a madman. I stagger down the aisle, leaving a trail of water in my wake, before collapsing on my knees at the altar. I already feel immense pain in my back, like my shoulder blades are splintering, and I arch my head toward the ceiling.
“Please!” I yell, my voice echoing off the rafters. “Help me! Save me, Lord. Save me from myself!”
I press my palms together in prayer, but my hands won’t stop shaking. The darkness inside me builds, filling in all my cracks and crevices.
Light, I need light. Only light can cast out the darkness.
I stagger to my feet and grab the matches from the altar, lighting every candle, torch, and oil lamp I can find. I want this room blazing, I want it so bright that there is no place inside me for evil to hide.
When I finally come to the last lamp, the ever-burning chancel lamp on the altar’s wall, I add more oil, making the flames dance dangerously high.
And in those flames, I see Larimar dancing.
Then, I smell her, hear her footsteps from outside the door moments before she steps inside.
“Priest?” she calls out.
I turn around to see her barefoot and walking down the aisle, dressed in only her white shift. The rain has soaked her through in the short walk over, her hair wet, her dress soaked and sticking to her. I can see her nipples clearly, the dark shadows of her cunt. Hot, liquid need thrums through me, stealing all that is good and moral until I am just a wicked man and feral beast.