He comes to me in my dreams, the handsome man with the seductive voice. He started visiting me at the age of twelve; the month after my first period and he comes to me in times of stress or under a waning moon. But now, at eighteen, he haunts my nights more than ever.
When he comes to me, it always begins the same; I'm alone in complete darkness until I call upon a merciful light of goodness. A spotlight from the heavens envelops me and I'm safe from the pair of glowing red eyes menacing me from the darkness. He's tried luring me from the light with bright candy apples and scaring me from it with snarls and gnashing teeth, but I've remained safe within it. But lately, he's been coming to me in the world between awake and fully asleep and steps into the light; tall, handsome and beguiling and scarier than any monster you can imagine. Tonight he appeared with tousled black hair and deep brown eyes sparkling with shards of golden light. Shirtless, bronzed in silk pajama bottoms, his smile was as charming as a prince.
"Hello, Penelope," he said, with his honey dipped voice.
"Who are you?"
"If I wanted that to be known, I'd have told you."
"What do you want from me?" I cried. "My soul? Because I'll never give it to you. It's mine until I die and then I give it back to God."
He is a creature of so few words, each one heavy and ominous. He stepped closer to me smelling like clove cigarette smoke. I now stand before him naked in the light.