Four
Black clawed hands touched every part of my body. I lay in the void, staring at nothing as the many hands caressed and soothed over my skin. Curved nails ran down my flesh and sinister moans filled my senses. I let out my own, unrestrained moan and the darkness pressed down harder on me. Soon, tentacles rose up, moving between hands and circling my wrists, ankles and neck.
"I serve," I whispered to the abyss.
Tentacles tightened as claws dug deeper into my flesh. Lines of blood bloomed, the crimson red like a glowing beacon to the darkness. A large, thick tongue licked at a line of red and the whispers grew into a white noise of shadowy delight.
A purple shard pulsed against my soul. I pushed my fingers into the glowing shard, took hold of the edges and pulled to see if it would open.
My eyes fluttered open and gray light glowed.
I slowly blinked, pushing away the morning befuddlement and trying to hold onto the dream at the same time. It spoke to a deeper self, one I fully admitted to and enjoyed. The truth was not the scary part. It was the actions and plans that whispered tendrils of doubt and concern.
I had awoken something in the world and in me. Was it a dream? Did I imagine it? Did I drink too heavily and played out a fantasy I always had? Is she still dead, or was she really here, a thing of darkness and seduction?
I sat up and my head swirled into a morning dizziness. I glanced around to see that I was in my own bed. It was dry, warm and comfortable. I looked to the window. The curtains were slightly drawn and a gray sky spread out from horizon to horizon beyond them.
I threw the comfortable quilt aside and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I stood up under my own power, feeling the cool morning air on my naked skin.
I took inventory of my body. There was no soreness. There was no pain. I felt like a new man and my energy grew with each passing moment.
"Maybe it was all just a dream," I said to no one.
Images of my mother coming back from the great beyond haunted my thoughts. The beautiful and carnal acts slipped along my mind. Memories clashed with logic. I did bring her back, didn't I? I used the Book of Night to bring her back, but she was changed, different. On her deathbed, she asked me to not summon her and I defied that wish because of my own selfish desire.
I stepped to the large window and looked out to the vibrant green grass field against a dark gray sky. She told me that she was mistaken and was happy to be brought back. She told me that we had a great dream we had to bring to the world. I was lost to seductive moments and was so happy to see her, I didn't care what she said. I was just happy to have her back, even if she was different.
A small pain crawled along my chest. An image of the purple shard pulsed along my mind. Was I different? Had I changed into something else, like her?
I let out a small chuckle. I was being absurd. I must have drunk heavily last night and dreamed of a fantasy. That must be it. I may be an acolyte to the dark gods, but I knew better than to summon a soul from the dream, don't I?
My head swam in dripping confusion. I needed coffee, lots of coffee.
I turned, walked over to my desk. My black robe was over the back of the chair. I picked it up and put it on. The moment I tied it around my waist, I glanced down to my desk and saw the black book.
The Libro De Nocte was lying flat on the desk. I was pleased to still see it in my possession. The famed Book of Night had a tendency to appear and disappear. Many in the orders believed the book to move between dimensions, appearing at random to gift dark knowledge to those looking and not looking for it. No one knows who truly wrote it, or if it was written by anything close to our feeble minds. It was a tool to bring the great dreams and shadows to any world it touched, at least from what the dark philosophers say and discuss.
I turned my gaze away from the book and made my way to the door of my bedroom, a dark roast on the mind.
Walking down the large hallway, my mind drifted to last night again. Flashes of pale flesh and ruby lips caused me to sigh. My manhood began to hardened at the mere thoughts of the fantastical tryst. The anniversary of my mother's death came and went. Last night was nothing more than a wet dream of perversion. I had to carry on with my life and move on to my next studies and goals.
I stepped down the wide stairs to the first floor. I turned and made my way into another corridor. I listened for the servants, but remembered that I had given them some paid leave, so I could have the mansion to myself to perform dark rites and drink away the pain.
I stepped closer to the kitchen door. The moment I lifted my hand to push it open, a small, melodic hum touched my ears. I hesitated, hearing the familiar hum I heard in my childhood. It was gentle, small and beautiful.
I pushed at the door and stepped in. My heart nearly leapt in my chest as I stood in resigned disbelief.
A seven-foot-tall woman stood by the counter. She wore a white, silky robe. Long, black hair touched her shoulders, the ends curling slightly into small locks. Her hour-glass figure moved with gentle ease, a pale hand reaching for the coffee pot and pouring into a mug.
"Good morning, my love," my mother said and turned around.
I stared, knowing full well that last night was not a dream. It happened and I caused it. By the counter, a slightly different version of my mother stood. Her ruby smile was warm. The center of her robe was open with alabaster skin and inner sides of large breasts plain as the morning day. Nipples stood erect, barely covered by the silky robe. I glanced down, seeing her womanhood pink against her white skin.
"I thought it was a dream," I whispered.
Rose let out a bubbling giggle. "Life is a dream. I always said that to you."
I was rooted to the spot, seeing the large woman pick up a plate and cup of coffee. She crossed the immense kitchen to a table and set them down. She gave me a welcoming smile that made my heart melt and my cock stand under its own power.
"Have a seat. We should talk," Rose smiled.
I did as I was told. I crossed the distance, took hold of a chair and sat down. Cooked eggs and meats filled the plate. Steam rose up from my cup of coffee. My heart beat like a drum in my chest, not sure if I should jump for joy or wallow in my perverted dreams.
My mother stood over me, making no attempt to cover up. Her eyes didn't blink as she gazed upon me. It was unnatural, but I didn't care. She was still here and I never wanted her to leave.
Rose sat down in another chair, not to far from me. She faced me, her eyes like two mossy green pools of radiance.
"We have several things we must discuss," Rose said gently.
I reached over and took her hand into mine. "I'm here for anything we need to do."
Rose gave a small nod before she continued, "Last night was wonderful. I couldn't be happier that you brought me back from the dream realms, but as I said during our lovemaking, we have much to do."
