Between Lines

Part Destiny, Part Lose

I wake up with a bad headache, and I sit up as I moan. I am back in that modest treehouse. I slowly pull my nape down as I try to move my tender neck. I bit my lower lip as I knelt on the skin mat that I was resting on and tried to recollect my thoughts. He is not here, that huge man. But I recall everything, including my last moments dangling from a tree as I was trapped in his trap and he was cutting it down. As I cast my gaze upon my surroundings, a sense of impending darkness began to descend upon the land. The fading light of day allowed me to catch a glimpse of the setting sun, its radiant glow piercing through the wide-open door before me.

I cast a disheartened gaze upon myself, my eyes tracing the intricate patterns of destruction that marred the delicate fabric of my summer dress. Alas, it had fallen victim to a cruel fate, torn asunder beyond any hope of redemption. A gaping rift revealed a glimpse of my black underwear and strapless bra, a stark contrast against the vibrant hues of the dress. The upper button, a crucial element of its elegant design, seemed to have vanished without a trace. My fingers delicately traced the line of buttons that adorned the length of the dress, their presence now precarious, hanging by a mere thread that had once held them securely in place. I can't go out like this, but I have to since some part of my body is exposed through the rips of my dress. I looked around, and there was no sight of my jacket or my boots either.

"s**t," I murmured under my breath. The parched sensation in my mouth urged me to moisten my lips, seeking solace in the gentle caress of my tongue.

With groggy tenacity, I rose from the skin mat and made my way towards the chest nestled beneath the frost-kissed window. I kneel before it. As my fingers brushed against the chest's surface, a chill coursed through my veins, sending shivers down my spine. The weight of the world seemed to rest upon its weary frame, as if it held secrets and stories untold. Despite its worn appearance, there was an undeniable strength emanating from within, as if it had weathered countless storms and emerged unscathed. With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, I dared to pry open the lid, revealing a treasure trove. With trembling hands, I reached out to grasp the cold, metallic surface of the bronze padlock. Its weathered exterior hinted at the countless secrets it had guarded over the years. Determined to uncover the mysteries concealed within, I applied pressure, hoping to coax the lock into submission. Yet, despite my efforts, the padlock remained steadfast, its grip unyielding. It clung to the treasure hidden behind its impenetrable barrier, refusing to grant even the slightest glimpse of what lay within.

I scanned the dimly lit one-room house, my eyes darting from corner to corner in search of the elusive key. The room was small and decorated with this chest, the thick skin mat I was sleeping on, and the weapons that were laid against it. That's all it had. The setting sunlight that filtered through the door cast long shadows that danced across the worn wooden floor. There doesn't seem to be any peculiar place for me to look for the key.

I got back to the white sheet that I was covered with and wrapped it around myself. I walked out of the house, and with each step, the lofty white fabric billowed around me. This time around, I wanted to take a calculated risk, so with a determined gaze, I cast my eyes beyond the realm of familiarity, towards the distant horizon where the golden rays of the setting sun danced upon the land. This feels so odd. The air crackled with an otherworldly energy, as if the very fabric of reality was being woven anew. In the waning light of the day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, a sense of wonderment washed over me. No longer did I find myself upon the familiar grounds of Earth, for before my very eyes, a celestial spectacle unfolded. A resplendent planet, grander and more magnificent than any I had ever beheld, materialised beside the setting sun. Its proximity to the land on which I stood suggested a closeness that defied the laws of the known universe. At that moment, I knew with unwavering certainty that I had been transported to a realm beyond mortal knowing. A soft gasp escaped my lips, as if the very act could summon clarity to my mind. As I cast my gaze upon the vast expanse beneath the towering treehouse, a sense of trepidation filled my heart.

"Oh my!" In an effort to catch my breath, I leaned against the front railing and cleared my hair. But as my eyes raced to the clearing in front of the tree house, there he was, perched on a weathered stone in the middle of nature. Now, as if he'd learned from our first encounter, he's seated facing the house, his icy eyes trained on me. His piercing gaze, as cold as the depths of a frozen lake, remained fixed upon me, as if he sought to unravel the secrets hidden within my very soul. His silence and unwavering stare sent a shiver down my spine.

I tried to clear the rest of the fabric from the ground as much as I could. I didn't want to drag it around as I walked, so I pressed the pile of it to my chest, and I started going down the stairs on my left. I walked straight to him, stood before him, and blew an air of exhaustion. I am hungry and thirsty, and I don't think I can fight or have the need to run away in this world that is not my own.

"I have fruit and water," he sighed, his voice barely audible amidst the silence that enveloped us. I couldn't help but feel a surge of relief as his words reached my ears. My parched throat yearned for even the slightest hint of moisture, and I instinctively moistened my lips with a gentle sweep of my tongue.

"That'll do just fine," I replied, my voice betraying a hint of resignation. Deep down, though, a primal craving stirred within me. I longed for a meal that would satisfy my hunger with a protein-packed punch—succulent beef, perhaps, or a tender, lean chicken breast. Oh, how I yearned for something that would tantalise my taste buds, melting effortlessly in my mouth with each delectable bite. I envisioned the morsels gliding down my throat, their weight settling in my belly, providing a comforting stillness. And to accompany this feast, a glass of wine, with its soothing properties, calmed my frayed nerves, allowing me to regain my composure and find clarity amidst the chaos. But I know I am now the beggar who cannot choose.

With a determined stride, he rose from his seat and gracefully made his way towards the right. Intrigued, I watched as he reached out and retrieved a sack brimming with an assortment of succulent fruits. Returning to where I stood, he presented the bounty before me, a gesture that spoke volumes about his thoughtfulness. He carefully positioned the object, delicately setting it down in the space that separated us. With a composed demeanour, he settled himself onto the surface of the stone, never once averting his intense gaze from me. With bated breath, I took a step forward, drawn towards the mysterious sack that lay before me.

Curiosity coursed through my veins as I leaned in, peering into its depths. As my eyes scanned the contents, a glimmer of recognition sparked within me. There, nestled amidst a colossal fruit, its shape reminiscent of a mango yet its vibrant hue far more intense with a mesmerising shade of crimson. Unable to resist its allure, I reached out, my fingers trembling with anticipation, and gently grasped the oversized fruit. Its weight in my hand was substantial, and its skin was smooth and velvety to the touch. I marvelled at its sheer size, dwarfing any mango I had ever encountered before. This was no ordinary fruit; it possessed an otherworldly quality that stirred my imagination. As I held it aloft, the scent of ripeness wafted towards me, a heady aroma that filled the air. It was a tantalising blend of sweetness and tang, a fragrance that beckoned me to take a bite.

"I propose the orange one," he murmurs, his voice barely audible amidst the hushed whispers of the surrounding forest. Intrigued, I lifted my gaze towards him, my eyes narrowing with a tinge of scepticism. At the mere glimpse of it, one's eyes would recoil in horror, for its appearance was nothing short of grotesque. "It looks hideous at first sight but is truly good for your kind. That one," he said, and with a graceful motion, he rose from his seat, his eyes fixed upon me. As he approached, he knelt on one knee, a gesture of reverence and modesty. His outstretched hand beckoned towards the fruit I held. A shiver ran down my spine, a primal fear coursing through my veins as I hesitated to relinquish my grasp. Yet his gaze held a reassuring warmth, a silent assurance that quelled the rising panic within me. With a subtle nod, he sought to calm my trembling spirit, urging me to trust in his intentions. "Behold," he whispered, his voice laced with intrigue, "at the bottom of it lies the heart of the fruit; there's a dark dot that seems like a hole." I followed what his finger pointed at, my eyes tracing the curves of the mysterious fruit. My fingers delicately traced the skin. Then I found it; it's actually obvious to anyone looking for it. "Suck on it to imbibe the nectar from it, and thou shalt perceive the essence of my words," he proposes, his voice carrying an air of mystery and intrigue.

I wanted to find out on my own, so I chose to eat the fruit of my choice, as he is suggesting. With focused eye contact, I pressed my lips against the mysterious hole nestled at the wider bottom of the fruit. A surge of anticipation coursed through my veins as I began to draw upon its essence, a powerful suction pulling me deeper into the unknown. Suddenly, a sensation of icy coolness flooded my mouth. Yet, as quickly as the chill arrived, a sharp tang of sourness assaulted my senses, causing me to recoil in disgust. Hastily, I expelled the offending taste from my mouth, my tongue seeking solace in the embrace of the sheet that enveloped me. My face contorted with distaste, a testament to the unexpected twist that had unfolded. I looked in his direction, and he was already offering me the hideous orange fruit in his right hand, broken in half, as if he were trying to domesticate a wild animal.

I grabbed it from his grasp, my fingers closing around the fruit. With a glint of trouble in my eyes, I took it to my lips and sank my teeth into its succulent flesh. In the realm of delectable delights, there appeared before me a morsel of humble proportions. Though modest in size, its allure was undeniable, beckoning me to partake in its savoury essence. With an insatiable hunger gripping my being, I embarked upon a culinary journey, driven by an unyielding desire to sate my voracious appetite. The morsel was a delectable temptation, its flavours dancing upon the palate with a tantalising allure. It caressed the tongue with a gentle touch, its texture a harmonious symphony of softness.

We sat out there, me devouring the fruit, and he quietly stared at me as if he were there studying me. I look in his direction just as I feel well fed, and I secretly burb behind my palm. Feeling uneasy, I sat back and looked around us, only to notice that it was getting darker here in the woods. I couldn't help but voice my bewilderment. "Where am I?" I asked, hoping for some semblance of clarity.

"Irkil," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of mystery, as if he were about to reveal a long-kept secret. "Not that you would know it," he began, his eyes scanning the surroundings, "but this is the realm of pathways." His words hung in the air, leaving a sense of intrigue and curiosity.

"Am... am... am I?" I stammered, my voice barely a whisper. My eyes darted around, searching for answers that seemed to elude me, flickering with uncertainty. The question lingered on the tip of my tongue, as I couldn't bring myself to voice it."Am I dead?" I finally whispered it.

"I cannot know," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery, "but I have heard whispers of souls from your realms who have ventured into this place, caught in the delicate balance between death and life."

"Are you going to hurt me?" Tears welled up in my eyes as I mustered the courage to ask the question that had been weighing heavily on my heart. He tilted his head to the left, his gaze meeting mine, a perplexed expression etched across his face.

"Can't you tell I am trying to help?" He asks me, and I deepen my furrowed lines. "Usually those I encounter feel otherwise, and you're refreshingly different." The way he talks is very odd compared to the dialect I know. As I listened to him speak, I couldn't help but notice the peculiar way in which his words flowed. It was unlike any dialect I had ever encountered before. The cadence, the pronunciation, everything about it seemed foreign to me. It was as if he had been transported from another time or place. It was fascinating, yet at the same time, it made me feel slightly awkward.

He is right. I say to myself as I calculate how many times he could have killed me. "My dress is ruined, and my shoe and jacket are missing," I ask, and he nods.

"Not missing," he answered. "I can get them for you, but they are ruined," he said, narrowing his eyes as he thought. "I can get you something."

"That would help," I said frantically.

He suddenly stands and walks to the tree house, and I follow him. I quietly stood out on the small balcony of the tree house as I looked at him walking in, feeling a bit uneasy about sharing a room with him. Is there a place for both of us to sleep? This question started to trouble me all of a sudden. As he was rummaging through the weapons he had set on display inside the home, my attention was drawn to the dark woods, where the voice of some strange wild animal was just beginning to spring to life. He then suddenly emerged with some weapons in his hands and looked in my direction with concern.

"Close the door and don't open it for anyone except me. I'll be back in the morning," he technically warned me, and he marched heavily down the stairs and into the forest.

A sudden wave of fear washed over me, as if I hadn't tried to run away from him earlier. Reluctantly, I yielded to his demand, my trembling hand reaching out to close the door behind me. The heavy thud echoed through the empty room, sealing me in a suffocating darkness. As the night stretched out before me, time seemed to slow to a crawl. I found myself anxiously awaiting his return, my heart pounding in my chest with each passing moment. The shadows danced around me, whispering their sinister secrets and amplifying my unease. The weight of the unknown pressed down on me, intensifying my fear. In the midst of the darkness, I clung to a glimmer of hope, desperately yearning for his presence. The night seemed endless, stretching on for an eternity. Every creak and groan of the house sent shivers down my spine as I strained my ears for any sign of his impending return. The air was thick with an eerie stillness, broken only by the distant echoes of odd, wild voices. This unpleasant situation fell on me through the night, and I finally closed my eyes huddled in a corner.

***

In the mystical realm of Irkil, a place shrouded in enchantment and wonder, each inhabitant possesses a profound and compelling motive to call this ethereal land their home. I am here, maybe because I am in a life-or-death state or because I am dead. We couldn't figure it out yet, but Hadad is helping me find my father and also find out why I am here.

Within this ethereal realm, where the boundaries of reality blur and the veil between worlds grows thin, dwell entities of extraordinary nature. The angels here traverse this realm quite frequently, their purpose shrouded in divine mystery. Yet not all entities in this realm are touched by heavenly light, for there are elusive and enigmatic demons who traverse the realms with an air of malevolence. They come and go, like shadows that dance on the edge of perception. And then there are the gods, ancient and powerful, but banished from their realms. Now that I'm thinking of it, it seems we are all lost souls.

But in the heart of the enchanted woods, where the ancient trees whispered secrets and the air crackled with mystic energy, there dwelled Hadad. Once a celestial being, a radiant angel soaring through the celestial realms, he had been tossed down from his high position. Confined within the depths of the enchanted woods with his majestic wings now tattered and faded, he had taken on a new form, like a muscular, tall man and a humble smith, his hands skilled in the art of crafting weapons. His forge, nestled amidst the towering trees, burned with a fire that seemed to dance with a life of its own.

I would say he has a sad story, burdened by a punishment for having given up on his duty as an angel. As part of this dire penance, his memories of a mortal woman, whom he loved, have been mercilessly stripped away. Oh, the anguish that plagues his soul. He still feels the echoes of that great love. Yet, try as he might, he cannot recall even a fragment of her visage or the tender moments they once shared. But it haunts him, tantalisingly close yet forever out of reach. A sensation, ethereal and intangible, clung to him with an unyielding grip.

I remember my first night in the treehouse. The dread made me crave security. I hugged him in the morning. Since that night, I've not been terrified of him. He taught me a lot about survival in this realm. I cherish him.

Maybe it's the feeling he has for that woman, but unapologetic emotion began to blossom within me, like a rare and delicate flower unfurling its petals under the moonlit sky. I find myself consumed by a shameless desire that knows no bounds. It is a fire that burns within, igniting my every sense and leaving me yearning for his touch.

At first, I disregarded it as a mere yearning for solace and protection in this vast and treacherous world. Yet, as the hands of time continued their relentless march, that ethereal feeling grew stronger, entwining itself around my very being. It was as if a forgotten memory, long lost in the journals of time, had resurfaced from the depths of my soul. I feel like I knew him, just like he said he felt he might have known me once. Every time he touches me accidentally, I feel the need. I want to lead him in how to treat me, but I fear I might endure my feminine pride.

I doubt if he understands how love works in my realm. I would sometimes wonder how he treated her when he was on earth and endure the envy that scorched my insides.

I grabbed a bow and an arrow and walked out of the house to keep my mind off of him. Just before I was about to enter the woods, he walked from behind me and grabbed my forearm, and I turned to see him.

"Where are you heading?" he asks. He had been sweaty since he was forging a special sword. His voice was deep, and his winter grey eyes looked into my soul. I hate it when he does that. I cannot bear the need in myself, nor can I control the emotion that shows on my face.

"I... um." I swallowed hard as I looked away. "I want to catch something."

"You don't even know how to use an arrow." He turns my face back to him with his index finger, and I feel my heart stretching in my ribs as if it is about to explode. I am breathing heavily. "Is something bothering you?" he asks me with genuine concern.

"You can teach me," I say and he takes the bow as he narrows his eyes at me, but I turn around and walk into the woods, leading the walk all the way down to the river.

We stayed for a while in that isolated area, anticipation thick in the air. I was so overcome with desire since I stood so close to him, feeling our bodies heat up against each other for the first time. I can feel his breath on the left side of my face, where he is leaning in closer to me. His voice was high in my ears, and I could feel the worms crawling all over my body. My mind and heart are racing for different reasons, while he is focused on helping me perfect my aim as we relentlessly unleash a barrage of shots upon the sturdy trunk of a nearby tree. The only thing that brings my attention back to the moment is the sound of the arrows as they whistle through the air. The allure of being enveloped in his captivating aura was something I had yearned for, yet I remained oblivious to the means by which it could be achieved. If only I had been aware that the simple act of playing with arrows could lead to such an enchanting experience.

"Now," he whispered in my ears, and I swallowed hard. "Try it on your own." He said while receding back, and I blew a long exhale as I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

I nod, but I have no idea what he's been teaching me. I simply place the bow in my hand and shoot the arrow recklessly, and I miss the aim. The arrow weaves past the tree in an awkward dance in the air.

I shook my head and murmured, "Men," while chewing on my lower lip. "I'm not made for this." I avoided his puzzled glance and headed for the river's edge. Kneeling down, I fill my palms with cool river water, splash it over my face, and dab the excess moisture on my nape. I listened as he made his way down and sat down just behind me.

"If I may," he said softly. With a gentle clearing of his throat, he captured my attention, causing me to momentarily close my eyes. Why am I acting this way? Calm down. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern etched across his face. I turned around slowly, meeting his gaze with a gentle smile. With a subtle nod, I reassured him that I was indeed alright. "If this is about your father," he continued, his voice filled with hope.

"I know." I took the new shoe he got me off, dipped my foot in the inviting embrace of the flowing river, and walked a little closer into the water. Each step I take draws me further into the watery abyss, my leg succumbing to its depths. "I just want some fresh air on my skin." I answered as I nonchalantly shrugged. I take off the corset top and throw it over to the dry land. He smiles partially, his eyes tracing the contours of my exposed décolletage, a silent invitation to explore the depths of my forbidden desires. My gaze drifts upward, captivated by the vast expanse of the heavens above. With a subtle shift of my body, my hands find their place upon the curve of my hips, their touch igniting a subtle control over my desire.

In an instant, a surge of desire courses through my veins as his firm, calloused hands encircle my delicate waist. My eyelids flutter open, revealing a world ablaze with passion. Before me stands Hadad, magical and haunting, his presence enveloping mine. A ghostly aura surrounds him, teasing my senses as his lips curl into a seductive smile. His eyes, piercing and intense, gazed at me with a narrowed intensity, igniting a fire within my very being. "Um..." my voice quivered, a soft, hesitant sound that hung in the air like a delicate whisper. I yearn for the perfect word. I sensually moisten my lips with the tip of my tongue, my breath becoming increasingly laboured. "What..." I whispered, my voice barely audible, but before I could complete my sentence, he silenced me with his right hand's thump pressed against my lip, and I couldn't control the rhythm of my chest.

"I think I know," he whispers enticingly, his words caressing my senses. In response, my hands instinctively glided across his robust shoulders, their touch igniting a fiery desire within me. My fingertips eagerly grasp his bare skin, yearning for more of his intoxicating presence. "You're not—you cannot be a stranger," he breathes, his voice a low, primal growl that sends shivers down my spine. As his strong, masculine hands drew me nearer, a shiver of anticipation courted through my veins. In that electrifying moment, he slams me against his sturdy body, igniting a fiery desire that consumes us both. I moaned in response, but he gave me a passionate kiss, his lips pressing against mine with a fervour that left me breathless. His strong, masculine hand, with fingers that exuded both power and tenderness, pressed against my soft, supple lips. A surge of desire coursed through my veins, causing my heart to beat erratically as if it were dancing to a forbidden melody.

I questioned the righteousness of my actions, yet the allure of forbidden desire consumed me, rendering my doubts inconsequential. I can feel the rhythmic cadence of his heart pulsating beneath the tender caress of my palm, a primal symphony restrained within the confines of his ribcage. The intensity of his desire ignites a fire within me, threatening to consume my very being and fragmenting my essence into a myriad of smaller pieces yearning to be set free. His sinewy fingers caress the curve of my waist, their touch igniting a fiery trail of anticipation along my skin. With a possessive grip, his hand pulls me closer, our bodies melding together in a tantalising embrace. The intensity of his desire presses against me, a palpable force that stirs a primal ache deep within me. My lips parted in a breathless gasp as his hardness, rigid and unyielding, pressed against the delicate junction of my thighs. A soft moan escapes my lips, their plumpness brushing against his in a desperate plea for more.

With a tantalising touch, his right hand descends, delicately caressing the fabric of my dress as it glides down my shoulder. In an instant, the garment slips away, revealing the soft curve of my exposed breast, adorned with hardened, yearning n*****s that ache for his caress. With a strength that electrifies my senses, he effortlessly lifts me up, his arms enveloping me in a passionate embrace. As we venture out of the river, the water caresses our bodies, teasingly cooling our heated skin. With a tender gentleness, he lays me down on the soft, yielding dry ground, a sanctuary where our desires intertwine and ignite. I succumb to the electrifying sensation as his fingertips graze my skin, sending shivers of desire cascading through my body. Every gentle stroke ignites a fire within me, awakening a primal hunger that yearns to be sated. His lips, like a seductive whisper, ventured upon the soft expanse of my chest, igniting a fire within me that burned with a primal desire. A sensuous moan escaped my lips. I prayed for his touch, my fingers entwined in his hair, pulling him closer and urging him to explore every inch of my longing flesh. But, alas, the intoxicating dance of our desires was abruptly halted. His head, once nestled against my breast, lifted with a perplexed frown etched upon his face. His eyes, filled with a mixture of surprise and confusion, locked onto mine, as if checking for answers in the depths of my soul. I rose gracefully, my body entwined with his, our limbs tangled in a passionate embrace. Gazing down upon my tender flesh. I have a mark, nestled delicately under my breast.

"I've had it all my life. It's a birth mark," I explained. I was suddenly gasping for air after he had strangled me on the floor.

He snarled, "Demon!" Lying on top of me, he continued, "You're a vessel for a demon." His massive hand made my eyes widen, but I held on to his wrist without resisting his current urge; his body pressed against mine. My every waking thought was consumed by terror; a seductive mistress entwined her dark tendrils around my every waking thought. My eyes were looking into his confused gaze, which was tinted between desire and shock.