Its Cold Inside

The darkest terrors are within us

By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.

Shakespeare: Macbeth, Act 4, Scene 1.

*

Witches, vampires, succubi, cold cruel women, femme fatales, the tart with a sliver of ice in her heart; those are what comes to my mind when I think of Halloween. And today is Halloween, so my mind is even more than usually occupied.

It might also be because of Halloween that I picked up my copy of Macbeth to read earlier. I turned straight to the scene where Macbeth and Banquo meet the witches. And maybe it was reading Macbeth that mad me think of femme fatales and cold, cruel women. This is a play that is enough to put you off women for life, but then I have been off women for quite a while anyway. I prefer the ones I invent in my mind. I put down the book.

Twenty minutes to midnight and lying naked on my bed, I'm ready for my nightly ritual. It will be the same as any other night.

Everything is the same as usual, except that the room seems unusually dark. The light outside must have gone out.

Out of the dark shadows of the end of the room there steps a woman. She is beautiful and terrible. It's uncanny, and I feel as though I have seen her before, though I can't think where, and when she looks at me, it's eerie and I feel the hairs on my skin stand up.

She is my erotic fantasy incarnate. Her skin is translucent white and her hair as black as the night, and she seems to glow with a soft and feint blue light. Her breasts are perfect; large and shapely and round and her nipples are hard and straight and poke out almost an inch. I feel as though they are looking at me. Around them she wears what would be a bra, if it was made of anything more than leather straps. A black circle of leather holds each of her breasts and two straps ascend over her shoulders and two others snake around to her back. She has no panties at all and her legs are clad in thigh length leather boots. The heels are so thin and sharp they could burst cricket balls.

The moment she emerged from the shadows my cock was erect and so hard it ached.

'Who are you?'

'Don't you know?' she asks.

'No. I seem to know you, but I can't think where I've met you.'

Mirthlessly she laughs and looks at my cock.

'You seem pleased to see me, anyway.'

I look down and see that I can't deny it.

'You know what night it is?' she asks.

'Halloween.'

She takes a chair and places it near the end of my bed and a little to the side, so that I can see her. She sits and makes great show of crossing her legs, theatrically throwing one over the other. She makes sure that I have a good view of her pussy. It is shaven clean and the flesh looks as hard as stone. Only the reddish pink of her vulva interrupts the pale opalescence of her. She lights herself a cigarette, inhales strongly and then blows blue plumes of smoke that dances and tumble about in the blue around her.

'Like that?' she asks; and then she says, 'of course you do.'

I say nothing. I am caught between fear and awe.

'Who am I, you ask? I think you know. Better to ask what am I?'

Coming from her, it doesn't seem a strange remark.

'A ghost?' I ask.

'Could a ghost smoke a cigarette, do you think?

'I'm not sure. What is a ghost?'

'Smoke and dreams. Could a ghost bleed?'

She takes a needle from somewhere and pricks her thumb with it. A spot of blood appears on her white flesh.

'Out, out, damn spot!' she says and wipes it away.

'You see, it's gone.'

'A vampire?'

She smiles and shows me her teeth.

'Do I have fangs?'

She doesn't.

'A witch?'

'Do you see a broomstick?'

I don't.

She looks at me and her look is almost quizzical.

'Are you sure you don't recognize me?'

'I still don't know.'

She stands up and tells me to part my legs. She climbs onto the bed and sits between them. She reaches out her arms over my body and it is as if she would place her hands on my chest, but she stops and holds them a fraction over my skin. She looks down at me and smiles. Then she leans over me and it is as if she will lick my nipples, one after the other, but again she stops and holds her tongue the tiniest distance above them. She sits up and looks down again, and again she smiles and this time her mouth twists cruelly at the corner.

'I have been here before, many times, but you have never seen me. Your eyes are always closed.'

I look at her and I can see contempt in her eyes.

'Your eyes are always closed and your cock is always in your hand. You do nothing but wank yourself and waste all of your cum in tissues and on your sheets. Why don't you share it with a lovely woman just once?'

Before I can answer, she lowers her head towards my cock. It twitches and it feels like it would leap at her if it could. Her mouth encircles it and I looked down and saw that the head and the first inch of my shaft had passed between her lips, but the inside of her mouth was not touching them. I know she's there, but I can only almost feel her.

Slowly she raises her head again. She looks at me, this time with the look of a suppliant.

Would you give it to me? Would you share it with me?'

Before I can say 'yes', she says

'I'm the perfect woman. I only come when you want me. I enjoy exactly what you enjoy. I never question anything. I never ask for anything. Am I what you want?'

You're a temptress, a succubus; a demon in the shape of a beautiful woman.' I say.

'You have a vivid imagination. Do you really believe in all of that nonsense? Good and evil, God and Satan, fighting it out for possession your soul?

'Yes,' I stutter; 'I suppose I do.'

'Fool!' she says, 'fantasies and lies to deceive yourself. Your soul is already possessed by something far worse.'

'God and the Devil are fantasies?'

'Yes.'

'Then what are good and evil? Aren't they real? What is my soul possessed by?'

'They are. Good and evil are inside us, but inside you there is nothing, nothing but empty desires that you don't want to fulfil.'

'If I fulfilled all of my desires, I would have nothing left to do but die.'

'If you don't even desire to fulfil them, you are dead already.'

'Then what should I do?'

She did not answer. She just keeps looking at me.

Do you want me to suck your cock?'

'Yes, yes.'

Really? I don't think you don't really want me to. You want me to be forever about to suck it.'

I was about to protest, but she stood up and again she looked down at me. She steps forward a pace and placed one leg either side of me. She squats a little and her pussy, with its great lips, is poised above my cock.

'I am what you want. I am what you desire. I am want you deserve.'

Slowly she lowers herself over me and my cock throbs with anticipation. She stops with her pussy an inch away from my cock.

'Do you want me to touch you? Do you want to fuck me?'

'Yes, yes,' I cry.

She stares down at me. She lowers herself the last inch and she does it so quickly, my cock is in her pussy before I know. Suddenly I feel her. Her cunt is as cold as ice.

I scream out and my flesh freezes in terror.

Barely able to speak, I gasp:

'You're as cold as ice. You're...you're dead!'

'I'm not dead; I've never been alive. I don't exist.'