Warning: This story contains sexually explicit material of a
violent nature. It is intended for adults only. If you are
underage or are offended by such material, please leave.  Please
do not post this material to other sites.

Copyright 2005 by the author, Kelly Berks.

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The night belongs to unseen creatures who have mastered its
darkness, waiting quietly and patiently for those who would
recklessly venture into their unforgiving domain. Violate their
space if you dare, but be advised that you may pay the ultimate
price for your foolishness.



Master of Darkness


He slipped deftly and quietly through the darkness, passing from
one deep shadow to the next, never seeming to invade the space
reserved for those bands of light projected from the streetlights
which punctuated the sidewalk. She, on the other hand, treated
the night as if it were her own to do with as she pleased.  She
walked defiantly through his realm of darkness, ignoring any
thought of fear for that which might be lurking in those unlit
voids - those places which we know usually contain nothing at
all. She announced her approach with that special sound that very
stylish women make - that clickety clack of spike heels striking
concrete. It's a sound which does little more than turn your head
in the daytime, but in the deep shadows of night, it is the
ultimate announcement that there is someone available to be
ravaged and extinguished. That intoxicating sound marked her
arrival to this spot at precisely eleven sixteen every night. She
was a creature of habit. He was a creature who preyed upon those
who were compelled by habit. Their meeting was therefore not by
chance, and the outcome of that meeting was almost certainly
inevitable.

She approaches this  spot at the exact time which she has
prescribed for herself. She is a one-woman parade, confidently
striding toward a destination so close as to nearly be in view,
yet so far as to be unreachable. Each stride produces a motion
which arouses the senses and brings her that much closer to the
place where she will be conquered. Clickity, clack, each step
announces a bit louder, as it delivers her closer.

There is a poetry in what you can see as she passes through the
light, and a poetry in what you can hear when she is lost in the
darkness. He always sees and hears; for him, the vision and sound
are inseparable. She crosses a field of light, her stunning
features betrayed by the harsh glare, then she moves into the
blackness and is rendered only by that seemingly perpetual sound.
The vision and the sound are repeated over and over again, until
the vision is once again lost in the darkness, and this time, the
sound is no longer heard. Something has interrupted the nighttime
 poem. The two creatures of the night have collided, and in the
total absence of light, we cannot see or even imagine what has
happened.

His reward has now been realized, first in her resistance; then
in her surrender. He has sought and found his satisfaction in
what she was, rather than who she was pretending to be. Without
even the faintest trace of moonlight to illuminate her pretense,
there was nothing to destroy the brutal honesty which he demanded
in their intimacy.

In the morning light, we'll learn that our lady has been
persuaded to offer herself in a more generous way then she would
have preferred. Her newly-acquired generosity will continue, as
she puts on quite a show, openly displaying all those things
which she had been so cleverly trying to flaunt when she was
alive. Her silky hair will be spread on the ground around her
head as if floating on the surface of a still pond; her eyes will
be open wide to the bright blue morning sky; her breasts will be
exposed to all would now stare rather than glance, and her long
legs will still offer the same invitation they always had, but
now in a far more blatant fashion.

They will pick her up and place her in a wagon drawn by horses or
driven by diesel, because this exercise represents no particular
time or place. It is just one morning which follows another
conquest for this master of darkness. He will seek and surely
find more such victories.

Another day will pass, and another night will approach. One more
fatal pattern will be observed and studied carefully by eyes
buried deep in the shadows.  If she walks quickly and quietly
through the night, she may keep herself out of harm's way. If she
is careless and ignores the perils of the night, she may well
survive her journey anyway; after all, most creatures of the
night are harmless, and most nights hide no evil in their
darkness.
