Taming the Wicked Rogue

It was one of those nights again of seeing the world in another person's eyes. I had turned in early after a busy day at the bakery. Dove in under the covers. Relished the comfortable feel of the memory foam mattress, which, quite frankly, was the only redeeming furniture that came with the run-down apartment. Although a bit cold from lack of heating, the quick shower did wonders to my aching feet. I rubbed myself at the sheets, inhaling the mint scent and finding solace in the familiar smell. The only thing I could look forward to was sleep. Outside, the cacophony of city noise faded to a soft hum, lulling me to oblivion. Then, it came. A tide of weightlessness crept from the soles of my feet to my head, dampening every physical connection I had with my own body. A world devoid of color but black and white greeted me as my eyes fluttered open. My body sat up from bed in a fluid motion. A pair of bare feet touched the wooden floor but never felt the chill of its cold surface. She – the force that took over my body, walked towards the wardrobe. She parted the hanging clothes and bent over to pick up a dark cardboard box nestled between boxes of shoes. Opening the lid revealed a strapless, shiny sequined red dress. The color was striking against the black and white hue of everything around me. From the reflection of the broken mirror on the side, I saw her lips stretch in an unsettling smile. The elation coursing through my body was the stark opposite of the dread of what was to come. This was not good. I had never been as awake and aware of what was happening when she took over until now. It was as if she wanted me to watch. She took off her clothes on the spot, wore the red dress, and strode towards the vanity table. The dress felt cool and featherlike despite its striking appearance and the color prominent against my white, pale skin. She picked up the rogue lipstick, application slow and meticulous. The glint in her eyes spoke of bone-chilling mockery as though she knew that I was there. She knew I was powerless to stop her. She slipped her feet into a pair of black heels, grabbed my purse, and sauntered out of the apartment. I knew from experience she was a head-turner. Gone was the plain jane I Lilian Lux was known for and was replaced by a woman that beckoned attention. There was a stunning countenance about her – beyond elegant. Almost ethereal in the way she held herself. The first night my body was taken over was a night filled with despair. My fiancée had left me on the altar, and the whole town had gloated at my misery. The pain from the betrayal was unimaginable, and I had wanted to end it all. I tried to. As the sharp blade cut against my skin and the blood welled up and dripped down the porcelain tiles – something awakened in me. The piercing sound when the knife dropped on the floor seemed so far away. All I could focus on was the steady stream of scarlet. The weightlessness from blood loss came, but another sensation came with it. An invisible force had awakened, clawing at my insides, encasing all I am within. I heard her voice then – soft yet mocking as it said, "How pitifully weak." Instead, the night I had tried to end it all awakened 'it' from slumber. When we turned to a familiar dark street, a three-story dark building came into view. Its' signboard glowing neon and spelled in cursive font - Au-Dela. The whole structure felt out of place. As if somehow, it had materialized out of the blue amidst the dirty, trash-littered street. Internal resistance proved to be futile. I had never been able to break free. I felt the stiletto sink on the plush red carpet as 'she' stepped inside. Oddly, there was no guard. Only a tall, lean man, his face hidden behind a ceramic cat mask, stood at the end of the wide yet vacant hallway. The walls were made of mirrors with distorted images reflected in them. A large crystal chandelier hung above. The faint tinkling of the hanging crystals could be heard, despite the absence of wind to facilitate the movement. Behind the man was an elevator plated in gold. He held a slim cane in one gloved hand while the other was behind his back. Despite being near, his eyes couldn't be seen. It gave a disconcerting impression that in place of the cat's two eyes were a pair of the endless void. "Welcome to Au-dela, dear guest. We are expecting you." A male voice sounded, yet the man's red lips stayed pressed together. I could have mistaken him for a statue if he did not move aside. The elevator doors parted, and she strode in without a word. It was as if she had been here before. But I knew I hadn't. There were no buttons, yet the lift moved up as soon as the doors closed. Curiously, it did so for a long time even though there were only two floors above. The doors slid open with a sharp ding, revealing a narrow hallway. At the end was a massive double door that swung open on its own. Loud music spilled out of the dim room. I could see bodies gyrating to the fast rhythm and realized we had come to the bar. A giant disco ball hung suspended in the air. It rotated slowly, showering clusters of multi-colored lights on the sunken dance floor. On the left were plush seats occupied by groups of people, while the entirety of the right wall was the length of a bar. Ahead was a small stage, and between it and the bar was a narrow hallway lined with red doors. It was a high-end club, but why did 'she' come here? Her steps were slow and purposeful towards the bar. A dark-skinned bartender with midnight blue eyes leaned at the counter and asked, "What would you like, pretty creature?" "Seventh heaven" The voice that spoke was mine, yet it isn't. The man grinned, showing a row of pearly whites and pointed incisors. He shook his head. "I think Seventh Heaven is too strong for you. How about a vodka instead?" The customers near us laughed. A smile curled the corner of her lips. "Try me, and you'll see." The bartender smirked and shrugged his shoulders, "You've been warned." He placed a black crystal bowl atop the counter. A red liquid with a delightful scent and hint of spice and mint was poured until the bowl was half-filled. Then a darker, viscous liquid that smelled pungent and rustic was added. The man placed a white flower which was slowly dyed red before turning to dust. "One Seventh Heaven. One man will be lucky tonight." The bowl felt hot as she cradled it in both hands, yet the liquid was cold as it slid down my throat. The taste was sweet and spicy and awfully like ginger. The sudden burst of heat in my belly caught me off guard that, even though the dampened connection, felt terrible. The fire grew as she gulped everything down the last drop. The empty bowl was carelessly placed back on the counter. She licked her lips and closed her eyes. The fast beat of music drifting from the dance floor seemed to spurn the raging inferno within. When she opened her eyes, It was then that I noticed an oddity, a splash of color other than red against the black and white backdrop. Half cloaked in darkness, on the far left, a man with a pair of silver eyes watched me among the groups of people seated in plush seats. She moved towards him. The heat had enveloped my body, yet her steps did not falter. A feeling that we were nearing oasis as we gradually got closer to the silver-eyed man nagged at the back of my mind. I realized I had gained a bit of control. My steps had quickened until I was a foot away from him. The man rose languidly. He was over six feet high. I still could not make out his face. In a blink, a pair of big, warm hands clasped my waist, and a moment later, I was crushed against a sturdy chest. The man buried his head in the crook of my shoulder, taking a deep breath. Something hard poked my belly, and I was aghast to realize what was about to happen. Whistles sounded in the background, but they were merely white noise. His hands slid up my bare arms, cooling the heated skin. I wanted him to touch me more. And the moan that escaped my lips attested to that need. The growing wetness in the lower part of my body rang alarm bells in my head. What the hell did she drink? Our eyes met, and I was startled to realize his eyes were no longer silver but burning gold. Excitement coursed through me, and I fought against it, wanting to break free and control my body before she succeeded in her plan. And she let me. My knees give away. The weightlessness disappeared, and I was back in control. Feeling the surge of heat in full force brought tears to my eyes. My breathing turned heavier as the heat intensified. The man anchored me to him. If not, I would have fallen down the floor. I couldn't help but rub against him and discovered every touch against bare skin brought relief. Soft sounds of whimpers drifted to my ears. Filled with need. It took me a while to realize those embarrassing sounds came from me. "She looks like a handful! Want to share?" The man's chest rumbled as an animalistic growl sounded in his throat. "Are you stupid? The seventh heaven only works with a chosen person." Another man spoke. I was too far gone to care. I could hear all the words spoken yet couldn't put them together. All thoughts had fallen apart. In a silent plea, my nails dug at the man's arms. His response was swift and decisive. Before I knew it, he had brought me to one of the red rooms. My body sank to the silk sheets, powerless and at his mercy. The man hovered over me, his gaze of molten desire. I knew then that the inevitable was about to happen, but I couldn't care less. I had to have him.