REVENGE I sat in the corner just watching him sleep. Even in his damned sleep he looked in control, no nightmares bothered this bastard. I wanted to wake him up, scream in his face and suffocate him in my pain.
But this, as much as it would have been a natural reaction, was not enough. No. I had to deal with sleeping beauty slowly, painfully. Iıd start by invading his sleep. Iıd become his nightmare, bringing it all to an agonising crescendo and eventually heıd live it awake as well. This was the music in my brain.
Thinking about it made me believe for a second that the eternally bitter blood in my mouth had finally been swallowed. It wasnıt. I knew it wouldn't be until I had exacted my revenge.
Such a pretty thing too, which is why he could get away with murder. Like the biggest rosy apple if you bit into it he was either rotten or youıd slice your tongue on a madmanıs razor.
I approached my false Adonis, for a moment imagined myself running my hand through his hair, but he deserved no affection, no pity. With that thought I slipped into his subconsciousness.
I imagined my breath as sweet as peppermints and whispered a nothing in his ear.
³Surprised to see me huh?²
He tensed, then relaxed, smiling his cheshire cat, crazy cat-whoıs-got-the-cream smile. I had obviously not been expected, but he had convinced himself that I was just a figment of his imagination. That was good, much easier to fuck with his head.
I licked my lips and dropped my imaginary dress to the floor. He needed no further invitation, women were easy prey and he believed me easier than most. He smiled again and strutted proudly forward to take possession. His manhood waved in attention in the way all their pathetic flags do. His had never been the pale white of submission, always the dark angry purple of complete domination, but it was my turn now.
I imagined myself wet and took him easily, which had never been the case, he had always enjoyed that fine line of pleasure and pain at my expense. I bit his ear and wrapped my legs around his arse. I was the stronger.
I let my guise of beauty fall and he tasted my eternally bitter blood. His eyes flicked open, then widened in his nightmare. I smiled as best I could in my smashed up face and sank my broken fingers into his back, pulling at the layers of skin.
I tightened my grip and he couldnıt struggle. I breathed hot sour milk straight into his nostrils and he dry retched.
³What? Donıt you like your own handiwork my love?²
He realised then that this dream was not under his control, even if he did not yet know it was reality.
³Itıs been a month...everyone let you get away with it except me. Iım going to haunt you, itıs my turn now. Iım going to haunt you until you lose your sanity or until you fucking kill yourself.²
I laughed, his penis had shrivelled with fright.
³ Oh, and I'm going to fuck you like you did to me.²
I sank my teeth into his neck, ripping the muscles, then left him with a bruise to remember me in the morning by.

Michelle Wauchope ©1996

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