Stronger Than Death

The boy slid between the sheets with a sigh, relieved to be in bed at last. It had been a hard day at work, and irate customers and a late order hadn't helped. As he slid towards sleep, it all became a dim memory, and he yawned into the darkness, wondering what to do with his day off tomorrow. Then sleep overtook him, and he knew no more.

Sometime around 3am, the aortic valve in his heart became obstructed mid-beat by a small part of heart tissue that had calcified and broken off. For a minute it lodged there, before the pressure building behind it thrust it free with a rush. The strain was too much, and the boy passed away silently, the only mark of the change being a grimace that crossed his pale face, that quickly faded to be replaced by a look of utter peace, and an ethereal, other-worldly smile.

Later that day, he woke up. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, and twisting his back until it cracked, he looked up. And suddenly felt very awake indeed. Gone was his familiar room, the posters of heavy metal figures, the dim shape of the amplifier. In its place was a room he had never seen before, and the bed he was lying in was also radically changed. Black drapes fell like sheets of rain from the bars of the four poster bed he was lying in, and torches flickered like midnight wraiths from brackets round the walls. Gone was the Ikea furniture, and in its place was a heavy, ornate cabinet of dark wood, its varnish glinting yellow in the light of the torches. Beside that was a long, full length mirror, and a straight backed chair. Beside the bed he saw a small table with a candlestick on it, the 3 candles burnt down to a stump, and guttered as if in a great gale. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, feeling the plush carpet, and was about to stand up, when a knock echoed around the room, in spite of the fact that he hadn't seen a door.

Hesitantly, he answered. "Come in." A door sprang open beside the cabinet, and a young woman stepped gracefully in, moving sensually like a cat. He raised his eyes to speak to her, but his voice stopped in his throat as he took her in.

She was small, but with a great presence. Raven hair tumbled sensually, falling over her shoulders onto her back, framing her pale, beautiful face. A fine boned black corset pulled her waist in so she looked impossibly slender, and either side of her waist it swelled out into a perfect full figure. From her hips flowed a long black dress, reaching to the ground, hiding her feet and rustling, hinting at silk and hidden lace. A flashing glint between her breasts where they were pushed up by the corset showed where she wore a pendant, its silver chain flashing as it caught the torch-light. As she stepped further into the room, he saw that her arms were encased in long leather gloves that rose above her elbows.

"Come! You are not dressed! Why do you delay so?" Her words were like silver bells – yet there was something more. Something dark and sensual, hinting at unspeakable pleasures and eroticism. He was about to make excuses, but she clapped her hands – a soft sound, muffled by the leather – and suddenly he felt that he was clothed. Looking down, he was again astonished.

He was wearing black leather trousers, tucked into a pair of high black boots, ornately buckled in silver. Chains dangled from his waistband, looping low from one belt loop to another. A long sleeved, fitted, black shirt covered his torso, close enough to hint at his toned stomach. Underneath that, made evident by its long sleeves that came halfway down his hands and twined round his fingers, was a fishnet top. Adorning his wrists were a pair of spiked leather wristbands, about an inch wide, and buckled by his inner wrist. Raising his hands in shock, he found his hair too was different – gone was the short cut he usually had, and in its place was a mane of jet black hair that tumbled just to his shoulders. He looked up in shock, fear in his eyes. "Who are you? Where am I? What the hell is this place?"

"Please! Please try to remain calm. There is no easy way to say this – so I'll just say it. You are, essentially, dead."

"That's ridiculous!" He looked about wildly at the room about him, the flickering torches, the heavy furniture, the ornate four-poster behind him, trying to find something to reassure him, but found nothing. ..."isn't it?" he said at last.

"No. I'm sorry – but it's true. About half an hour ago, something went wrong inside you. I don't know what – we don't have good doctors in this age – but you died. And now you're here." She looked sadly at him, and suddenly he saw a huge weight of pain in her eyes, that flickered out of existence as suddenly as it had come.

"Okay. Suppose I agree with you for the sake of argument. So I'm dead. But where is here?"

"You are in the same place as you were when you fell asleep. Geographically speaking, that is. It is not through space you have moved, but through time. It is the year 1867. I brought you – or your soul – back here when you died."

"You did what? How is that possible for you? Just who in hell are you?" He began to get agitated now, twisting the leather bands on his wrist back and forth.

"I am called Cat. I am from the year 1867. And like you, I am a ghost. That is why I am able to bring your soul back to this timeline. Because I am dead – and so not dependant on normal time. I have haunted this room – your room – throughout the centuries that passed since I died. I have watched you since you moved to this room 3 years ago. And when you died, I brought you here because... being dead can get lonely." Again the sadness flickered across her face; again it was gone in a flash.

He sat down on the bed behind him with a thump. Burying his face in his hands, he said, "So I'm dead. Or so you say. But just why should I believe you?" He looked up at her, looking her full in the face, and asked again "Why should I believe you?"

She stared back fearlessly, and said, "Come." It was not a request; it was an order. She turned and walked to the door, her skirt rustling gently, and he stood uncertainly and followed her, his tread becoming more certain as he walked. As they passed through the door, she stopped and closed it behind them, and turned to face him again. But he was already looking elsewhere, taking in the long corridor full of doors, all shut, lit again by torches on the walls, and with plush black carpet underfoot. Feeling a tug on his sleeve, he turned and looked back at her.

"Are you sure you want to see this?" she asked, genuine concern across her perfect features.

"Yes" was his response. "I need to know."

She turned from him and breathed deeply, before turning to the door they had just exited and opening the door, flinging it wide into the room, before raising a swift arm to stop him entering. "You cannot go in! You must not! Look – but do not enter."

He looked into the room, now lit inexplicably by sunlight spilling from an open window he could not see. With a start he realised that it was his room, and he was looking at himself, asleep on his bed. Except – there was something different. He looked too peaceful, too still. At that moment, there was the sound of the door opening, and a wraith-like figure came in the door. With a wrench, he realised it was his mother, her slight figure casting no shadow in the bright room. She walked forward to the bed, and put her hand on his figure, trying in vain to wake him. At last, she knelt by his bedside and buried her head on his cold shoulder, her shoulders shaking as she wept.

He turned away, tears tracking down his face. There was a soft click from behind him, and the girl – Cat – shut the door. "Leave her to her grief" was her only comment. He slumped down onto the carpet, leaning against the wall, shaking his head, the tears still sliding down his cheeks. "I'm dead... I'm dead" was all he could say. She knelt down beside him, whispering into his ear, "It is always hard to deal with. If you wish, I shall leave you for a while" but he shook his head, unable to speak, and huddled closer into himself. At last, unable to bear the sight of his pain, she wrapped her arms round his shaking shoulders, feel his nestle into her shoulder. In spite of her compassion she could feel the faint flickers of lust, having him in her arms at last, after years of waiting and watching him, she finally had his reality in her arms.

After a time, his tears stopped, and he raised his head. "I'm sorry about that... So. What happens now?" She sensed that he had a made a conscious decision to move on.

Taking his hand, she said, "We shall walk" and, leading him to another door, she pushed the handle down and walked through, shutting the door behind him.

He found himself in an elaborate garden, with impeccable lawns, flowerbeds that teemed with life, and a beautiful pond with lilies and rushes. The only other unexpected feature was that every flower was black. The grass was a deep black, the black between the stars in the sky, and the water in the pond looked back also. She took his arm, and drew him onwards, their feet crunching softly on the gravel underfoot.

He spoke, breaking the still silence with his deep tones. "You said you'd been watching me. Why?"

She breathed in sharply, feeling her heart stop for a second. "Before I tell you, I must ask you to do something. Pick a rose for me."

Bemused, he did as she asked. Reaching into the flowerbed, he selected the best rose he could find, digging his thumbnail into the stem and snapping it off. Turning, he handed it to her, and as he did so, it flushed a deep red, effusing slowly from the stem to the tips of the petals, until it was a perfect blood red as she took it from him, her hand brushing his. At the sight of the transformation, her heart skipped a beat, and her hand trembled as it held the rose to her breast. She turned away for a second to calm herself and steady her voice. Looking back, she said, "It is as I hoped – you gave me the red rose of love... I brought you here because for 3 years I have watched you, watched your every move in that room, curled up next to your warmth at nights. I brought you here because... because in those 3 years, I have fallen in love with you. And the rose that you just gave me... only for the one you love does the rose turn red. That is why I brought you here – to ask you for a rose. Because now I know that you love me..."

He looked down at her, feeling his heart skip and his hands tremble, and looked at the rose he had given her, that had undergone such a transformation, and knew that what she said was true. Gently he placed a hand on the side of her neck, feeling her perfect skin, and lowered his head to hers. "You are right... I do, I love you with everything I am..." and with those words he lowered his lips to hers, brushing them softly, before kissing her again with more urgency and passion. She responded by standing on her tiptoes and wrapping her free arm round behind his neck, pulling him closer to her, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. His other hand slid down to the small of her back, caressing her through the corset, pulling her as close as possible to him, feeling her hips press against his, feeling her lust and passion. His tongue gently parted her lips, sliding inside, seeking her tongue. She responded by running the point of her tongue against his, toying with his tongue, running over his lips, tasting him. He bit down on her lower lip, pulling back gently, letting it slide through his teeth, and heard her moan in pleasure. He could feel himself getting hard, and pushed his hips harder against hers, letting her feel the effect she was having on him.

She gasped and broke the kiss, and looked up at him with eyes full of passion and lust, and moaned "I want you so much, I want you now..."

He responded by saying, "You know this place, I don't. Where can we go?" She looked up at him again and smiled,

Taking his hand she pulled him over to a small summer house a few yards away. Pushing open the door, she tugged him through, and with a slight start of surprise he found himself back in the corridor they had left to enter the black garden. She dragged him further down, looking back over her shoulder and smiling with eyes full of lust.

Coming to the door that they had left, the door to the room he woke up in, she pushed the handle down, opening the door and leading him through. "Shut the door" she whispered, and he turned and did so. When he looked back, she was dressed very differently. Gone was the long full skirt, to be replaced by a short one in leather that came to mid-thigh, and her corset was changed too, into a short-sleeved black t-shirt. Her legs were encased in black silk. He must have looked surprised, because she laughed teasingly at him. "You like?" she asked playfully.

"God yes, you look amazing" he replied, walking over to where she stood next to the four-poster. Picking her up, amazed at her lightness, he laid her on the bed, and rolled onto her, propping himself up on his elbows, and looked down at her beautiful face framed by her raven hair. He was about to speak, but she put her finger on his lips and shook her head. Placing her hand behind his neck, she pulled him down to meet her lips, sliding her tongue into his mouth, kissing with urgency and passion. He kissed her back, hard, grinding his hips into hers, nestling his erection into the hollow where her legs parted, feeling her push her hips back and hearing her moan into the kiss. He broke off, smiling at her disappointed pout, and slid off her, sitting up and hooking his fingers under the bottom of her t-shirt, pulling it off in one long smooth movement. His heart skipped a beat as he saw what was underneath – full breasts barely covered by a lace bra, her nipples erect and pushing against her bra. Smiling, he reached round behind her and unsnapped her bra, freeing her breasts, and throwing the bra away to the other side of the room. Pushing her back down onto the bed, he lowered his mouth to her nipples, sucking them into his mouth, biting down on them gently and pulling away, flicking them with his tongue. She arched her back, moaning at the pleasure, feeling herself grow wetter than she had ever been before, knowing she was wet only for him.

At last she pushed him off her breasts gently, pushed until he was in a sitting position. From where she lay she tugged at his top, pulling it off and running her nails over the net top underneath. "Take that off too," she whispered, and he pulled it out his trousers and over his head, dropping it off the side of the bed. He lay back down alongside her, and she pushed him onto his back, climbing onto him and straddling his hips, her black leather skirt pushed up round her waist, exposing the tops of her stockings and the straps of her suspenders. She sat up on him, running her nails down his bare chest, smiling as he arched his back and moaned out loud, whispering her name. She bent down and took his nipple into her mouth, sucking on it, biting down as hard as she dared, hearing him moan louder, drowning in the delicious pain, felt his hands drag down her back, his nails digging in, til they reached the small of her back, where they slid round her hips and down the silk of her stockings, and she moaned, running her tongue from his nipple to his mouth, before he reached up with a hand behind her neck and crushed her to him, kissing her hard and passionately, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, seeking hers, running over it hard when he found it.

With a grunt he broke the kiss and flipped her over. Kneeling up, he found the zip on her skirt and pulled it down, She raised her hips and he pulled the skirt off, exposing black lace suspenders and belt, and black French knickers, their seam pulled deep into the cleft between her legs. Throwing the skirt to one side, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them off in one swift motion, exposing her lips. They were already parted and her wetness glistened in the bright torchlight. He wriggled down the bed and placed his head between her legs, studying her lips intently, taking in every detail, before placing a tiny kiss on her clitoris. She sucked in a breath sharply, with a loud moan, and her hips bucked slightly. He lowered his mouth again, taking all of her in his mouth, sucking on her lips, and ran his tongue from the base of her slit to the top, flicking the hard little nub of her clitoris, hearing her breathing become ragged. Placing his fingers above her slit, he pulled back the skin of her hood, exposing her clitoris further to his tongue, and she moaned louder, arching her back and thrusting her hips harder into his mouth. Her legs flexed convulsively against him as she neared her orgasm. Running his fingers gently down between her outer and inner lips, he lubricated them with her wetness and slid them gently into the opening of her canal. Her breath caught for a few seconds and her body froze at the sensations of pleasure, and as they intensified as he slid his fingers further inside, she came hard, her muscles spasming and clutching at his fingers, drawing them deep inside her. A cry escaped her parted lips, and her hands clutched at the sheets.

For long sweet seconds she rode out her orgasm, feeling her muscle clench again and again, until at last the sensations faded to be replaced by a warm glow she'd never felt so strongly before. Exhausted, she could only lie there trying to catch her breath, her chest heaving as she sucked air into her lungs. He slid up the bed until he was level with her again, and looked down into her eyes, smiling. "Cat like?" he asked, and she could only smile and nod, pulling him down to a kiss, tasting herself on his lips. Pulling him on top of her, she lay for a few minutes just enjoying his weight and security on top of her.

Soon, though, she pushed him off. "You seem a trifle... over dressed, me-thinks" she said teasingly, sliding down his body until she was level with the buckle of his trousers. Looking down, she saw that he still had his boots on, and she pulled the buckles open one by one, finally throwing each boot across the room. Reaching up, she tugged at the buckle of his trousers until it snapped open, and he moaned slightly as his erection was given more room, enjoying the feeling of space. She giggled lightly, pulling his trousers over his knees and finally dropping them off the bed. Running her nails up the inside of his thighs, she slipped her hand inside his boxers and gently tickled his balls.

He could only moan at the pleasure, tilting his head back and whispering "Oh God, yes, that's amazing..." She smiled at his response, and withdrew her hand, swiftly pulling his boxers off. His erection sprang free, foreskin already pulled nearly all the way back. She looked up at him from where she lay between his legs, making innocent eyes at him, and he laughed. "Like I'm going to believe you're innocent Cat..." and she smiled coyly at his words.

Taking his erection in her small warm hands, she pulled at his foreskin, pulling it all the way back. He stifled a moan, and muttered "Hey, gently..." She whispered an apology, and bent her head to kiss it better. At the touch of her lips, his erection jumped, and he moaned again, a long drawn out moan of deep pleasure, resonating deep in his throat. She wrapped her lips around his head, and slowly sunk down onto the shaft, running her tongue over the head as she went, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could, feeling his nails dig into her shoulders. Pulling back until only the tip of his penis was in her mouth, she ran her tongue in slow circles just below the head, smiling as he twitched inside her mouth. "Oh God... that's so good, so good... don't stop..." He arched his back, thrusting his hips up to push himself into her mouth, and she responded by sinking lower so that almost all of his length was in her mouth.