Black.
Pitch.
Absence.
Chaos.
(A smile…)
Darkness.
Temptress.
Directionless.
Void.
(A touch…)
Life.
Light.
Fate.
Deliverance.
(A kiss…)
A moment, a feeling, taking in the electromagnetic wave patterns reverberating within the hollow absence as if basing its existence on the supposed reaction such a deliberation would result in. The hollow absence fleets into the respite of time as the failings of the dimensions of reality crackle and collapse only to reassemble broken and shattered, worn into a tapestry of wonder and fulfillment, all the while hiding the sense of unease and doubt festering within the fabric like the rotting corpse of a living shell of an individual being.
The contact within this space. It's intoxicating, the movement maddening seemingly burning a slow fire that simmers and broils producing a vapor of inexorable pleasure.
Skin on skin, a feeling like silk on skin…
No, not silk. Perhaps satin, or maybe cashmere, or pure cotton.
So soft, so fluffy…So…
Tender…
The color of the emotional spectrum radiating a myriad of hues and strands, so much so that the void of the expanse would echo with the pulsating glow that was so…
Ethereal.
Celestial.
Paracausal.
So lovely, so lovely…
So...
Two masses floated in the center of the spectrum, within the center of the expanse, oblivious to the void surrounding it. Although various hues of color were everywhere, shining and streaking light and energy into the void, the masses were blank. They were monochrome. Yet, the energy of light that radiated from them in turn only strengthened these hues, until a sudden change in the echoes of time caused a shift within masses of articulation, causing colors to disappear, dissolving into a singular stretch of white that originated from what some would call Eternity. As the white shifted, the shapes of the two masses became clearer, until the blotchiness of their forms became evenly tempered.
If one looked closer, they could start to notice the irregular movement patterns of the two being hardly irregular at all. In fact, they wore normal. To a glance, they seemed very much like cells, circling and encapsulating each other before reaching a form of cellular mitosis. Only they were not cells.
Actually, they were not even masses. In fact, they were bodies.
Two bodies.
Two human bodies, sharing physical intimacy in the deep of the void; in the absence of heart of dark space.
One body was lying down, its head turned upward, pointing its nose towards the blackness. The light emitted from it is too bright to accurately deduce who or what it is, but whoever it is, or whatever it is, there is one thing that is certain. The first body, this figure of light, is beautiful.
The figure is also graceful, moving up and down, bobbing almost; their torso, neck, and back moving slowly and rhythmically, and yet not painfully, not angrily.
Instead, it was more like taking and giving, than anything that could possibly be inferred.
Strumming along.
Strumming beyond.
Strumming.
Thrust.
Thoughts swam about like fish in the ocean. The words ebbing and floating in a continuum of subconscious appropriation seemed like the ever watchful gazes of sharks, silent, ever watching predators, waiting to devour the fantasies of the mind and replace them with the cold, undeniability that was truth.
But what exactly was the truth in this chaotic pit of no discernible sense of logic?
It was like a coral reef of mixed emotions, but all the diversity and individuality in the world could not and would not drop the focus of that which was the motion of the present.
Thrust. Thoughts stretched abound.
This is so lovely; this is so wonderful.
Thrust. The feeling of pleasure sparked by the sudden realization of the simplest of ideas.
I don't want to stop; I don't want this to end.
Thrust. Something immeasurable was being awoken, something ancient, primitive. Carnal.
No. It won't stop. It won't end.
Thrust.
I don't want it to end, I won't let it.
This void was as lifeless as the nonexistence within the plane of veil between veils. Like a door with no exit, a key with no hole. But even in this space between space--this, a place of emptiness buried so deep within the subconscious level of the universe--the light of the small figure was enough to illuminate even the most jagged and broken aspects of the subspace in which it resided alone of itself.
No. Not jagged, at least not here they weren't. Perhaps broken.
No. Not broken, but if not... But.
But it was, it was in fact broken.
It was broken, it was alone. It was decrepit.
No.
It wasn't.
It wasn't alone. Not within this expanse.
The figure's eyes are closed, and their lips are parted. Puffs of vapor flowing from the lips as steam generated from the core stimulated the sweat and tears, slowly rose and fell with the tempo of the figure's movements. A slow rising and falling followed on their chest: it was breathing, slow, laboring, fading.
Thrust.
Those lips, what wonderful lips, so lush, so delectable. Sweet like honey.
Thrust.
Those hands, small and fragile, they feel as if they'd break.
Thrust.
No, they won't. It won't happen. I won't let that happen.
Thrust.
God. Goddamn. I love these small hands.
The light from the figure dimmed a bit, and the shape and face became somewhat clear.
The figure was more than an 'it'.
'It' was a she.
Suddenly there was a change in the movement, and the female's light became brighter now, even brighter than ever. And at that, the movement was like a bond of solace; that is, until another figure, the second of the two, bent down to face her. Her skin shined immensely, making it hard to see her, until the two were face to face—and then they kissed: this figure, this secondary body, was a male. He was the darker of the two bodies, but like her, he too radiated power, and his light shone immensely enough; so much so that the lines and details along his body could be made out in perfect detail.
They kissed for a long time, the female's arms wrapped around the base of his neck, while the male's arms tightly held her waist, his hands massaging and rubbing her back. As they kissed, the light had lessened in brightness, and then sight became somewhat clear.
Ba-thump.
I can hear it. I can hear the beating of her heart.
Ba-thump.
It's beating along with my own. It's almost as if it wants me.
Ba-thump.
Good. That's real good. 'Cause I want it. I want her heart. I want it.
Ba-thump.
I want it.
A sudden flash of light erupted between them, flitting him in the face. He blinked, and for a moment, focused away from her and looked down towards the source.
A repetitive wave slow and ominous echoed in the silence between them as they beheld each other, the low frequency sound it made fluttering like the dying flaps of the wings of a butterfly.
In the middle of her chest, there resided a glow that engulfed that portion of her, possibly even the source of her power.
A long gash centered in the middle of her chest stretching inches apart. Small veins of opaque energy snaked through her chest along the lines seemingly drawn across her upper torso.
Further inside, there was a dimensional rift the size of a dinner plate spun at the pace of a snail counterclockwise. Mists of light and writhing tendrils of energy wafted from and around the female's body, the rift itself hummed in unison with her heartbeat. It was like her very existence consisted of all creation itself wrapped inside the delicateness of her bodice, a physical cocoon of ephemerality waiting to be shed in the coming metamorphosis of newer, ever evolving life. Moreover, the energy itself was beyond verbal description. Yet, it felt ancient, patient, conscious, and ambivalent. Benevolent almost from an impressionable stance.
A galaxy lay in the center of the rift, the galaxy itself being of a barred spiral variation. But unlike any other known form, this galaxy had not one, but three bars. Along the ends of each bar, two spiral strands individually outstretched in their given direction. This irregularity was inexplicably incalculable that in many ways, it was like the universe itself has manifested this paradox in order to explore its own self self-contradictory nature. The spirals themselves appeared to be almost like an armillary sphere, but created in such a way that the galaxy itself comprised the sphere, while the stars and nebulae wove the rings and strands, with the dust and gas clouds that encircled and maintained the perpetual motion of the rift in permanent balance. In the center of this irregular galaxy, the core was of a hexagram design, with the points themselves in the shape of a compass star, or even the North Star.
And this, coupled with the light enticed the male so much so that the more he stared at the celestial body pulsating in her chest, that without his knowledge, his left hand began to hover over the rift, proceeding to reach into it.
As his hand hovered centimeters from the spire of light from the core, he heard a voice deep as the hidden veil echo in hear.
'Take it.'
He froze, unable to ascertain the voices point of origin, and it was in that brief pause that same time so did she. Or rather, she was the one frozen in time, and he was simply apprehensive.
'Take it. Is this not what you desire?'
Wh-- Who the fuck is this? Why--
'Take it. '
'Do it, and all that is theirs shall belong to you.'
I—I--