Soul Crafter

Chapter Ten: They Could Have Danced All Night

“All you have to do is wish it.”

     Michelle’s air caught in her throat, and she found that her legs were wide apart on either side of his hips.

     “I-I…” Michelle began.

     “Yes, what do you wish I would do?” Victor seductively inquired. He wished she’d beg him for it. He could barely stand how much he wanted her right now. He’d been holding it in ever since he saw her. He was feeling his own inner madness seep out through his eyes, that gazed down at her, red, black, and wild. Her heart thumped in her chest.

     Michelle’s eyes became heavy and she began to close them as she aimed for his lips. He did not descend upon her mouth, but instead waited for her to beckon the plunge with her own eager lips.

     Just then, Michelle’s phone rang and they both froze. The sound snapped Michelle out of her haze. With Victor still pinning her on the couch, she reached over and grabbed her phone off the coffee table and answered.

     Victor sat up, turned his head away from her, and made a dark, hateful expression.

     Damnit! he thought.

     “Yes?” Michelle answered. It was Bianca.

     While Michelle conversed over the phone, Victor slowly got off of her. He noticed her pout slightly as he did and hid his annoyed grin from her.

     Michelle then stood up to go speak with her in her bedroom. She found that she wobbled a little bit as she walked, so she slowly hobbled her way to her room.

     Victor returned to his former position on the floor by the couch. He wished he didn’t have to contain himself so much. He knew if he wanted, he could easily seduce her and have her, but he also knew that if they did anything before it was the right time, something bad could happen, and he didn’t want to give her any regrets. So, he returned to his meditation in hopes that it would curb his desires.

     After some minutes, Michelle returned and announced that Chelsea Anderson’s birthday party was happening on Sunday instead.

     “And I’m your date, I hope?” Victor said in a smooth, velvety tone. Michelle blushed as she sat down at the dinner table, and he followed suit.

     “Well, yes, I hope so.” Michelle clumsily poured herself a glass of wine. “I mean, if you want.”

     “Of course I want to go with you,” Victor said warmly.

     As they both ate dinner, Victor decided to himself that the night of the party, he’d finally tell her the truth.

     After dinner, they cleaned up together, with Victor seeming a bit more cheery and flirtatious. Michelle felt relieved by this, like a cloud of tension was finally dissipating.

*****

     Uneventful days passed them by. More and more, Victor opened up again. Michelle couldn’t help but feel like her bond with him was strengthening with each passing day. Whenever she’d do anything or go out, Victor would still occasionally offer to do it for her— I.E, materialize whatever she needed, and as usual she declined, insisting on doing it herself. Michelle did wonder if being around her was boring for him, as she didn’t go out often, and didn’t see her friends regularly either. Victor assured her it was fine with him, and that he himself felt little pull to go out and do anything in particular.

     Michelle found herself feeling a bit cheerier, more carefree – until one event brought her back to her former pain. She fell asleep, and began to toss and turn in her bed as dark visions appeared to her, creating an agonizing nightmare.

     She was walking down a dark alley with both of her parents; Clarissa and Robert Gilder, after having dinner. Clarissa Gilder, who’s hair was darker, honey blonde, was laughing exuberantly at something her father had said. Robert, with his nice dress shirt and jeans, beckoned Michelle as they continued on their way back to the car. Robert’s hair was paler blonde, closer to Michelle’s shade. His personality was vivid, enthusiastic, like hers had once been.

     She walked alongside them, listening to their conversation.

     “Honey, let me drive this time— you’ve drank a bit too much,” Clarissa said, smirking. Robert leaned on Clarissa affectionately, nuzzling her neck.

     “My hero,” he cooed, pulling out his keys and passing them to his wife.

     Suddenly, an ominous feeling came over Michelle. She could now feel that she was dreaming at this point, but she felt compelled to play the role, as if she was not in control of her actions.

     “Wait, something’s wrong,” Michelle exclaimed, freezing on the spot.

     Michelle’s parents both looked back at her.

     “What’s wrong, dear?” her mother asked.

     “I don’t think we should go that way.”

     “And why not?” Robert said.

     “I just think we should turn back, go the other way.” Michelle hugged herself, clutching her forearms.

     “Don’t be silly, sweetheart,” her mom said reassuringly.

     “Yeah, there’s nothing to be worried about,” Robert said, smiling.

     They both turned back around and continued walking. Michelle stayed planted there, too afraid to move.

     “Wait, don’t go, please don’t go,” Michelle whispered as they turned a corner, now out of sight.

     Then she heard it.

     She heard her mother scream in horror.

     “ROBERT! N-,” her mother choked on the last word.

     “No, no, I don’t want to see this again,” Michelle began to sob and back up. She remembered that in reality, she’d been grabbed, but realized that since she’d forced herself to stay where she was, none of the attackers knew that she even existed.

     “Ahhh!” her father cried out in pain.

     Michelle heard the sound of the knife stabbing them both over and over again, as if it were on loudspeaker. She couldn’t escape it— the nauseating noise was everywhere. She covered her mouth with one hand and fell to her knees.

     “Mom, dad, no, please,” Michelle sobbed.

     A man came behind her and violently grabbed her around her shoulders.

     “It’s your turn,” the man said. He was wearing a scary, demonic looking mask. Stunned, Michelle could only look at him in horror as he aimed a knife at her neck with one hand and began pulling at her blouse with gloved hands.

     “GET YOUR HANDS OFF HER!” a man hollered, firing a warning shot in the air.

     The masked man immediately let go of Michelle and made a run for it. Michelle sat there, stunned, eyeliner running down her cheeks.

     “Miss, are you hurt?” a middle aged man asked, putting one hand on her shoulder. She jerked her shoulder away and looked up. He looked like he worked in a restaurant, and had on a very dirty, formally white apron. He held his shot gun away from her, well behind his back.

     “I didn’t want this to happen all over again,” Michelle said, slowly getting up. The man watched her, a knowing expression coming over his face.

     “I know you didn’t,” he said, his tone serene.

     “At least this way I can see them.”

     Michelle slowly made her way down the alley; she closed her eyes, and turned down the street where her parents had been.

     She slowly opened her eyes. There she saw them, both of her parents on the pavement, laying in pools of their own blood. The blood kept flowing from their bodies, as if they had an unending supply. It covered the pavement and crept toward Michelle’s feet.

     The man with the shot gun showed up behind her and observed the scene of her dead parents.

     “Why didn’t you go watch?” the man asked.

     “I don’t like seeing it happen.”

     “But I thought you wanted to see them again?”

     Fresh tears pooled in Michelle’s eyes.

     “Not like this; can’t it be happy?” Michelle asked. “Can’t I remember us doing something nice together? Does it have to be this?”

     “Would you not cry then?” he asked.

      Michelle thought for a moment before answering.

     “It wouldn’t make any difference,” Michelle said defeated.

     The man held up his shot gun and aimed it at the back of her chest.

     “Are you ready?”

     Michelle looked up at sky.

     “I don’t know,” she whispered.

     He pulled the trigger, and Michelle woke up.

     Tears were streaming down her face as Michelle, confused, looked around her dimly lit room. The moonlight shone in from the window, illuminating her surroundings just enough for her to realize where she was.

     Michelle turned over in her bed, cradled her face in her hands, and gently cried. After a few moments, she heard knocking on her door. Michelle, too tired to get up, or even speak, said nothing.

     The door cracked over, and she heard Victor’s soft voice, “Michelle, are you alright?” he asked, peaking his head inside her bedroom.

     “Not really,” Michelle weakly croaked, her voice hoarse.

     Victor slowly entered her bedroom, and then sat down on the foot of her bed, concern in his eyes.

    “What happened in your dream?”

     “How do you know it was a dream?”

     “Lucky guess,” Victor half smiled. He wasn’t sure if he should tell her that he witnessed her dream as she had it.

     “I guess you’re psychic, too,” Michelle halfheartedly joked, her lips trembling as she stared at her window.

     “Among other things,” Victor smiled, and slowly placed his hand near hers that was resting on her leg over the blanket. She didn’t shy away, so he took her hand in his and held it.

     “Is there anything I can do?”

     Michelle stared forlornly in front of her. “Can you turn off my emotions? Make me not feel pain?”

     “I could, but then you wouldn’t be able to experience other wonderful things,” Victor said.

     “Like what?” Michelle asked.

     Victor clenched his jaw. He needed to tell her the truth. He just didn’t know how, or when he should.

     “There’s plenty of things left to feel, plenty of wonderful and joyous things. You need to feel pain to feel happiness, it’s a package deal,” Victor said, caressing her hand with his thumb. “And besides, if I took away your ability to feel, I wouldn’t have a chance to see you smile genuinely again,” Victor said in a hushed tone.

     Michelle finally looked him in the eyes and graced him with a slight smile, which he returned. He stayed with her a little while longer, until she was ready to go back to sleep, and then tucked her in. He left her bedroom, clenching his fists, wishing he could come clean about everything. On the one hand, he wondered if it would all be an even bigger burden for her to know. On the other, he figured letting her in on the truth would be more liberating— she’d finally have a real say in what was going on in her life.

     Sunday finally came, and Michelle spent the whole afternoon getting ready for the birthday party. She put on a face mask, shaved her legs, treated and styled her hair, and then showered. She spent the rest of her time looking for the perfect dress to wear. She was dismayed by her lack of fancy dresses. She had given away many of her clothes because they carried sad memories with them.

     She did her best to keep her mind off of anything that would make her sad, and finally chose her dress.

It was evening when she came out of her bedroom. She walked into her living area and stood there before Victor.

     “How do I look?”

     When he looked at her, she took his breath away.

     There Michelle was, a vision of beauty and grace. Her blonde hair done in loose curls that caressed her exposed shoulders. She wore large, gold hoop earrings. Her dress was mid-thigh length, tight, pure black, with long black sleeves and a loosely exposed cleavage neckline that drooped a bit and ruffled.

     Victor stood up and walked over to her slowly. His movement, although gentle, was intense, methodical and radiated desire. Michelle picked up on this and blushed from the sheer strength of his presence. He gazed into her eyes and then put one hand on her shoulder, and slowly slid down her arm. She had to hold onto every ounce of strength she had in order to not tremble.

     “Absolutely ravishing,” Victor replied, leaning down and inhaling her scent.

     “Just a few more additions, and I think what you’re wearing may even be worthy of your skin,” Victor winked cheekily.

     Before Michelle had time to reply, she gasped as she felt something appear on her body. Her neck felt different, along with her ears and her waist. Her eyes widened as she looked down and noticed she had a diamond studded belt over her tight, black dress. She turned and looked in the mirror near the front door and saw that she had a thick diamond necklace around her neck, along with matching diamond earrings.

     “This is beautiful!” Michelle exclaimed, tentatively caressing her diamond necklace. “But I can’t accept this.”

     “Just let me give this to you,” he said, gently touching the small of her back.

      “Are these real gems?” Michelle gasped.

     “If you mean real diamonds, then yes,” Victor smiled.

     Michelle was enchanted with how glittery her jewels were.

     “Thank you,” Michelle said, ducking.

     “Remember, those are just rocks,” Victor said, looking into her eyes, trying to convey as much of his love to her as he could. “The wearer is worth far more.”

     Michelle turned scarlet.

     She then gasped when she looked at the time. They needed to leave, or they’d be late. They quickly headed out the door; Michelle was about to get into the drivers’ seat when Victor asked that he drive. Michelle complained at first, but relented when he insisted he be the one to keep her safe. After all, she was quite squishy and fragile compared to him.

     They parked in front of Chelsea Anderson’s manor, which was illuminated with fairy lights and lanterns. The whole side of the road with littered with parked cars and party goers that were walking up the front sidewalk to the entrance. Victor opened the passenger door and took her hand to gracefully help her out. Victor himself had materialized new clothing on the way there. He was wearing a fancier version of his usual all black attire, only this time it was a suit with velvet accents and a black velvet vest.  They both walked down the sidewalk and up the front steps into the large colonial manor. The front hall was abuzz with light conversation from excited guests. The inside was decorated with lights and lanterns just like the outside.

     All the women were in beautiful, elegant dresses, and the men in dashing suits and tuxedos.

     “Shall we?” Victor offered her his arm, which she took, and they made their way through the white entry hall, which was floored with pale marble. They walked outside to the enclosed back terrace, which was massive with glass walls and large glass skylights. The terrace was where the dancing was taking place. It was dim compared to the entry hall, with tiki torches creating a gentle, warm glow. There was a large stereo playing soft music. Various couples, friends and acquaintances all stood side by side, drinking aperitifs and champagne, chatting away animatedly. Michelle nervously stood there with him, watching a couple of people elegantly dancing. The trees beyond the enclosed terrace were adorned with white fairy lights, which gave the atmosphere a magical feel.

     Victor removed his arm from her grasp, stood in front of her, and bowed, holding out his hand. “May I have this dance?” Victor asked, a tender smile on his face.

    Michelle blushed, and then placed her hand in his. He gently pulled her to the center of the dance floor.

     “I’m not really an expert waltzer,” Michelle admitted, averting his gaze.

     “Don’t worry about that, just do your best and I’ll guide you.”

     Together, they softly danced to a gentle, ethereal sounding melody.

     “I love this song,” Michelle said.

     Victor looked down into her sparkling eyes, which glowed from the flames of the tiki torches.

     “I can think of something I love more,” Victor thought to himself.

     Victor let out a satisfied sigh when Michelle leaned her head against his chest and followed the rhythm of the song that played.

     “What if I believe in you?

     What if I give you a chance?

     Would it all turn out fine?

     Do you know how hard I’ve tried?”

     “Michelle?” Victor tentatively began. He felt nervous, which was unusual for him, but he knew he usually only felt this way for her, and about her.

     “Yes?”

     “I have something I want to tell you,” he continued.

     “Do you know how hard I’ve tried?

     What if I believe in you?”

     “You’re finally going to tell me the truth?” Michelle asked, looking deeply into his eyes.

     “Yes,” Victor said after a long pause; he swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat.

     Michelle waited patiently as he wrapped his arm tighter around her waist, almost as a way for him to support himself. He was not at risk of trembling, but he knew that had he been human, he likely would be now.

     “I want to tell you how I really feel about you, Michelle,” he said, bring one hand up to caress her cheek. She turned red but continued to look into his eyes, hanging on to his every word.

     “Yes?”

     “I truly, deeply love you,” Victor breathed.

    “Oh,” Michelle gasped gently.

     “You might not know me, not yet anyway, but you will, and you’ll know how crazy I am about you.”

     Michelle’s knees began to tremble, and she was suddenly very glad he was holding onto her so tightly.

     “I,” Michelle began, but trailed off. As she did, Victor gently placed his lips on hers and kissed her. He felt as the strength in her ankles gave out, and was practically holding her in the air now, her feet inches away from the floor.

     She weakly wrapped her arms around his neck and heatedly kissed him back. Victor could hear her heartbeat, and sense her happiness, her desire. It made him the happiest he’d been in a long while. Feeling her heat and passion was enough to make him flush, even if the color in his cheeks was not visible to the human eyed.

     He wasn’t interested in a lot of things these days, but seeing Michelle happy was one of them.

     They continued to kiss for what felt like forever, but not long at the same time. They barely registered that the music had gone quieter, and people were walking past them— some making scandalous comments about them.

     It was only when the butler arrived and loudly rang a small bell, informing them that dinner was about to be served, that Michelle and Victor let go of each other.

     “Do we have to stop?” Michelle asked, almost drunkenly.

     “I can take us home right now if you wish,” Victor smirked, though regretted what he’d said as soon as he said it. He wasn’t ready for that— yet.

     “Michelle, over here!” Bianca called from the doorway, beckoning them into the dining room.

     “I guess we should go sit with her,” Michelle sighed, disappointed.

     “We’ll have all the time in the world, don’t worry,” Victor smiled, and they made their way to the dining room, with Michelle tightly hugging him.

     They both spotted Bianca sitting at a table in the corner of the large, warmly decorated dining room. They walked across the wooden floor and Michelle noted that Bianca was wearing a flowing, pastel yellow dress, adorned with yellow silk flowers on her shoulders and decolletage.

     Michelle and Victor sat down on the ornate, cushioned, wooden chairs. Victor crossed his arms at the white tablecloth, and looked around, seemingly lost in thought.

     “You look gorgeous!” Bianca exclaimed, admiring Michelle’s outfit.

     “You do, too.” Michelle beamed.

     “Where did you get that? Is that real?” Bianca asked, pointing at her necklace.

     “Oh, yup, Victor gave it to me,” Michelle blushed.

     Bianca’s eyes moved from Michelle’s pink-tinged face to Victor’s dreamy grin. Bianca put two and two together, bit her tongue softly, and glared at him.

     “I brought these drinks for you, by the way,” Bianca said, passing a glass of champagne over to Michelle. She passed another over to Victor, so as to not seem rude.

     “Thanks,” Michelle said, wrapping her fingers around the stem of her glass.

     “Hey, Michelle!” said a familiar voice. Michelle turned and saw it was Christopher Noble. He came and sat at their table with a big grin on his face. When he registered Victor’s presence, his smile dimmed somewhat. He wore a simple white dress shirt and black dress pants. His slightly shaggy brown hair looked half brushed, and his piercing, almost fanatical, green eyes glared at Victor. His attempt to remain serene while holding back his annoyance seemed to make him appear demented.

     “Hi, Chris,” Michelle began, taking a sip of her drink. “I didn’t know you were coming to be honest.”

     “I didn’t think I was either, but then I thought, why not? Free dinner,” Chris replied nonchalantly.

     Victor was now eyeing Chris, which unnerved him.

     “So, how did you two meet?” Chris asked, his eyes narrowing.

     Michelle froze for a second. She had no idea what to say. How was she going to describe how they’d met? She recalled hearing Victor howling in the night, she recalled seeing him injured, covered in blood, and pleading for help.

     Sensing her unease, Victor spoke and helped Michelle explain.

     “We bumped into each other while we were both out for a walk, and just hit it off,” Victor said.

Michelle relaxed somewhat.

     “So, you live in the same neighborhood?” Chris asked, suspicion coloring his tone.

     “Not exactly, but I happened to be there that night.”

     “Why did you choose that neighborhood to go for a walk?” Chris interrogated. Both Michelle and Bianca exchanged bewildered looks.

     “What can I say, it’s a classy neighborhood. I wanted to see the sights,” Victor smirked, then gently eyed Michelle before returning a more serious gaze to Chris.

     “Oh, my date is finally here!” Bianca interrupted.

     A very tall man in a business suit appeared behind Bianca. She stood up; he placed one hand on her shoulder and momentarily smiled at her, before turning his dark brown eyes on everyone else.

     “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Melek Amos.”

     When she heard the name of Bianca’s date, the blood drained from Michelle’s cheeks, leaving her feeling cold and hollow inside.