Arc I: The Demon on F-sharp - Ch. 01 - The Box

Shivering, I straddled a plain black box in my lap. My breathing came out in gasps; I could hardly control it. The lump in my throat was growing bigger and pulsing alongside my racing heartbeat. Dizzily, I leaned my head against my bedpost. Cold sweat was beginning to form along the nape of my neck. Though my breathing was still ragged, I inhaled deeply. I needed to regain control.

I looked down. The pitch darkness of my room made the black box I held in my shaking palms almost invisible, save for the glimmer of pale moonlight that glared off its metallic surface. My eyes shot toward the balcony doors. Crooked. The drapes were crooked, allowing the tiniest sliver of moonlight to pass through. I felt my lips begin curling into a snarl. I shifted the box's weight in my lap, causing it to reflect the moonlight into my narrowed eyes.

I snapped back to attention. I ran a hand along the box's smooth lid. My breathing was becoming heavy again. The drapes could be forgiven. This time. After all, because of them, I could see this more clearly now. My quivering hands brought the box to my chest. I could feel my heart against its hard surface, beating at breakneck speed. I raised it higher, to my face. Lovingly, I rubbed its surface along my flushed cheek. It felt good. So nice and cool to the touch.

I had to have it. Now.

My mind had lost all pretense. Any notion of self control I was hoping to garner had been lost. The temptation was too great. I frantically clawed at the black box, digging my fingernails into its crevices. I pried at the lid furiously. Voraciously. Hungrily. All that drove me was a primal desire. A lust that so longed to be sated.

But to no avail. It was locked. Of course it was locked. I locked it. My bloodshot eyes closed in on the dresser across from me. Up there, in the middle drawer. Buried underneath a set of neatly folded ties and slipped under a false bottom was a key. The key. I stared at the plain, wooden dresser for a few moments. I gulped back a hoarse breath and licked my lower lip. My mouth was wetting with anticipation.

I slowly got to my feet. My body was beginning to calm down, knowing it would soon have what it desired. I clutched the tiny chest more tightly. My hands were no longer shaking with excitement, but they were becoming clammy against the cold metal. I gazed longingly at the dresser's middle drawer. Soon. Soon I would have it. I stepped forward, then noticed my reflection in the mirror.

The rectangular pane hanging above the dresser faintly reflected the image of its owner. A patch of moonlight now shone on my lightly colored cheek. I could see a glimmer of drool stretching from the edge of my lips to my chin. I didn't move to wipe it off. My right eye's green iris stared back at me. Hollow. Sunken. Almost dead in its piercing gaze. Unwaveringly, I stepped toward my dresser and placed the small black box on top of it. I could no longer see my reflection, only the darkness that pervaded my room. But, I had no need to.

I had seen enough. This was not me. Not the real me. This was not the time, nor the place, for me. It would be soon, though. Just a few more hours and I could show her. With my index finger, I traced a heart along the box's lid. I had only just spoken to her yesterday, but I already knew she was the one. I beamed happily at the box's shadowy silhouette, retracing the day's events in the back of my mind...