He knew her face anywhere. He couldn't help but admire the soft glow of her brown eyes, or the way her pink top lip curved into an elegant Cupid's-bow. He wanted to run his fingers through endless waves of that caramel-brown hair. He yawned— feeling his skin stick to jagged ribs. His heart— or its equivalent —pounded in his ears.
I'm here for you, Miss Pearl! You're finally mine!
He crawled across the cracked black ground, his arms burning with each rolling motion. Her silhouette pressed against the black-gray smog like she was stretching against a wall. Pearl! He couldn't believe it; there she was, standing tall and beautiful in the midst of this other world. There she was, soft-voiced and gentle. There she was, waiting for a tender touch….
As he crawled closer, the figure crumbled. It sank to the ground and shivered, but that made him smile. He rushed over to Pearl and gathered her in his arms.
"Hello, Miss Pearl," he whispered, cradling her in his cold, muscular arms, "You're here sooner than I thought."
He rocked her back and forth. She didn't speak, but then again, she didn't have to. Her eyes were closed, dark lustrous lashes fluttering on twitchy, dream-filled lids. Her small, firm breasts rose and fell with each breath. Her lips parted slowly, and he felt the warmth of her breath soothe his skin.
Finally! he thought, I have my chance…!
"Miss Pearl," he whispered, running a hand along her cheek, "It's high time we expressed our love in a…memorable way."
Pearl said nothing. She didn't even wake up. He ran his hand further down her body, over her throat, her collarbone, and lingered around one pale mound of breast.
Her heart beat. Her breath moved, yet she didn't speak.
Frustrated, he lifted her into the air. His arms burned at her weight, and the way her slender limbs swung like pendulums over the pink nightgown.
"Pearl," he hissed, "Pearl, wake up!"
No answer. He grabbed her hand, pressing it into his chest. She trembled.
"Pearl, I know you can hear me!"
Crrr- crrr- inch! The figure cracked. It wasn't Pearl, but a bundle of wax, of bright oozing liquids and hard, well-shaped bones. He heard high-pitched laughter clinking in the distance. He clenched his teeth. Imps! Oni! Demons! How dare they disgrace me like this…!
"This is all I have of you," he whispered, "Please, let me…!"
He threw himself on top of her, and she crumbled into several bleeding parts. As she broke, he gathered the pieces together. He pressed his lips deep into some, before gnawing them like dry crusts of bread— others, he held close to his throbbing chest.
"Ah, Pearl," he whispered, "You are mine! Miine! Miiiiine!"
As he laughed into the shadows, he felt himself shatter— starving and shivering for the dream of power.