Humboldt, Bavaria 1784
The moon burns bright in the black, restless sky. Outside the room, a cool autumn wind whips through the brittle leaves that blanket the ground. On an antique four-poster bed lies a young woman, naked and tightly bound, her limbs stretched apart and fastened to each post with black silk. The moonlight spills through an open window near the bed and bathes her naked flesh in its glow. Her long red hair is tossed over her shoulders onto the pillows around her. She is in a deep but restless sleep, drugged by one of His servants and left alone in the darkness to seal her dark and inevitable fate.
Suddenly, the heavy curtains shudder slightly, then become still again. A cool mist creeps into the room through the open window and crawls like a heavy fog along the floor. The sleeping girl becomes restless, her wrists twisting against the silk bindings that imprison her. Tendrils of the gray mist wrap around the bed posts like long fingers. The girl is still lost in sleep, but she moans softly as it creeps over her splayed, helpless body and smothers her with gentle caresses.
Then the mist pulls away, as quickly as it had entered, and gathers in a dark corner of the room. The floor creaks. The dark figure of a man materializes. He stands motionless, while taking in his surroundings. He is a remote, majestic figure, shrouded in a long black cloak hanging loosely off his broad shoulders. Moving toward the dresser, he passes one hand over an unlit candle and it sparks to life. The candlelight seems to flow through his body and there is no reflection in the dresser mirror.
The dark figure glides silently across the bare wooden floor and stops at the foot of the bed. The young girl cries again. She is aware of his presence, even in the depths of her slumber. He studies her form -- the soft swells of her young breasts, the blush in her cheeks, the hair splayed out on the pillow. She is warm, and so full of life. The servant had chosen well. His unblinking eyes draw downward to the neatly trimmed mound between her open thighs. Two desires began to burn within him, one ancient, and the other ageless.
He raises his arms and allows the cloak to fall behind his shoulders. He is completely nude, his body is lean but not sparse, his muscles are both powerful and sensual. Taking a deep breath, he slowly rises from the floor. The young girl's breathing becomes irregular, gasping as if she were trying to wake herself up.
The black cloak flutters wildly behind him as he glides over the bed, their bodies almost touching. His long shaft is fully erect. The girl squirms, turns her head from side to side, and struggles weakly with her bindings. He gazes into her eyes, and presently she grows calm, her fears chased away and replaced with deadened sleep, and something else -- a longing that has been buried deep within the darkest recesses of her soul.
He slides his hand across her breasts, she shivers from his ice-cold touch, her nipples become taut and erect. He lowers himself upon her, relishing the warmth of her young body. The wind outside howls like someone screaming in pain, the curtains in the window snap violently, but the girl is lost in her own dreams. In her mind's eye, she is in the arms of a magnificent warrior in glittering armor and burgundy robes -- the man he once was before his Becoming. Her full lips part in a smile.
