Soul to Soul: Dreams to Nightmares

            It was bliss. The room was hot, his body was sweaty, and everything else a blur. Her back was arched; her face was twisted into a convulsion of pleasure and impatience. He knew she needed him. She wanted him, desired for him, and proved her point through the erotic noises coming from her mouth and the marks her nails left in his back. She was tight around his pride, returning the pleasure. He was going to come soon, and, unsure if he’d be able to go on afterwards, prepared to mark this female as his mate. His teeth grazed the small of her neck, between it and her shoulder. She let out a whimper, a nervous sound, but otherwise didn’t hesitate. He pulled away to gaze at his lovely fiancé, but to his horror, instead of the face he knew and loved there was his rival: The Anti-god of Chaos. Merrik woke up in bed, sitting at attention, shouting Iagae’s name, panting, and sweatier than he was in his nightmare.

 

            Merrik is his race’s God of Life and Death; he carries the Lord of Lord’s blessings to newborns, and pure souls to heaven, contrary to what the mortals believe. They think that he actually kills, so whenever he appears in the presence of non-immortals, they fear him and curse him, causing much irritation on Merrik’s part. Other than his power, there was one other thing that set him apart from the others of his race: his appearance. He wore deep onyx robes, with equally long, dark hair. His eyes were a dark maroon, usually showing pent-up anger or un-vented aggravation. The last and most unique part of his appearance that set him apart from others of his race was his copper-colored skin.

 

            Almost four hundred years ago, before he became The God of Life and Death, he was a mortal himself, and he had met a street rat female who would later become his first and only best friend. They lived together for three years, becoming closer and closer friends, until one day when a new addition to the kingdom’s parliament forced them out of the village to live on their own, farther away than the outskirts. They built a simple home the day they left, not knowing it would be their last together. At night, Merrik was too sore to get up and make dinner (it was his turn), and his friend offered to give him a massage, after which the female gave herself to him, without a bond mark. The next morning, The Anti-god of Chaos murdered her.

 

            Merrik rubbed his temples with both index fingers, trying to block the painful stains of his past. He opened his eyes, stared down at the erection that his nightmare had given him, and sighed. Many times this had happened before, and each time was a minor annoyance.

 

The turbulence of his nightmares was greatly affecting his simple, but elegant life. He was bitter to his friends and family, and he spent most of his time in the training facility, improving his skills. His mind centered around the female who he believed was murdered because of him. Guilt held him down, made him appear creepier, and the mortals reactions only made Merrik’s attitude worse.

 

The God of Life and Death got out of bed and walked into his bathroom to take a cold shower and rid his body of his little rut. Merrik turned on the shower, let it become quite hot, shed his clothes, and stepped in, facing the spout. He let the water run down his muscular body and soothe his worried muscles for a good half hour before he grit his teeth, readying himself for another regretful session of masturbation. Each time left more guilt for thinking of her in the ways he did.