Dark Night

         It was another dark night as Sara Higgins lay awake again. She was exhausted. All she wanted to do was slip into sweet, oblivious sleep and stop the endless churning of her mind. Her eyes felt like hot embers burning from lack of sleep. Her frail body looked like someone else’s, someone who had suffered longer. She stared at her limp, blonde tresses dangling over the side of the bed and wondered when the night would end. Sara prayed for sleep to overtake her--and then hoped it wouldn’t. She dared not face what sleep would bring…not again.

         The hairs on her neck stood up. He was here! She couldn't see him yet, but that chill running up her spine was his calling card. Sara’s heart raced and the pulse in her head throbbed. Why her? Why did he always come to her every night? What did it all mean? She looked around, but still didn’t see him.

         Maybe it was her imagination after all. Maybe he was nothing more than a nightmare like she had first thought. But was it possible to have a nightmare without sleep? She glanced at the clock’s glowing numbers: 12:05.

         A soft shuffle in a dark corner startled her. Was he here?

         "Sara," a soft whisper called, "Sara, come. Sara..." It called to her from everywhere and yet nowhere at all. Sara trembled. She was so cold. Why was it suddenly so cold in here? Her fingers were like ice against her skin as she clasped her hands together and brought them to her chest.

         "B-Bork?" Her eyes darted back and forth again, but found nothing. Her chest ached like some heavy was pressing against her. The anticipation was too much. The fear was too much. She didn't know how much longer she could stand it!

         She blinked and jerked her head up. Had she nodded off again? It was getting harder to tell the difference. Everything blended together: sleep, the dreams, reality. What was real? She was no longer sure.

         A deafening silence filled the room so quickly that she gasped for air. Not even the dull ticking of the clock could be heard now. The only sounds left in the room was that of her own breathing and the rapid pounding of her heart.

         A low, garbled growl reverberated from the foot of the bed. She peered down, afraid of what she might find. At first, there was nothing but darkness. Then, as if sensing her thoughts, her blankets slowly rose and conformed to a misshapen figure. There came a slow and steady rubbing as it moved steadily along the sheets toward her. An icy breath and rough, slimy skin rubbed against her as it moved over her body. Sara closed her eyes tightly and couldn't stop the trembling of her body. That burning, sour bile threatened to expel from her throat if she had to feel that presence again. She wanted to jump from the bed and run, but remained securely in place. Was it fear that prevented her escape?

         “P-please,” she sobbed, “P-please, n-no.” It stopped. A low, harsh laugh answered back. She realized now that this was it--Bork had come to kill her.

         Panic took over and she gasped for air, but it was no use. The harder she tried to breathe, the less oxygen her stinging lungs received. Each breath was little more than a squeak now as the figure crept over her and settled itself over her waist. The pressure on her chest released and she was able to breathe again.

         The figure sat up and the covers lifted. Sara opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Two slick, black horns spiraled up and out of each side of his large, bald head. Red glowing eyes glared down at her. He sneered, baring a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. A smooth, black stone bound by a short leather rope hung close to his neck. His rough, slimy, brown skin was covered with thorny protrusions and pustules reeking of decomposing flesh. A smooth, dark, scaly loincloth was tied at his waist.

         “Sara, tonight we are one.” He grinned sinisterly. “Tonight you become my bride.” Sara sobbed violently until he put his finger to her lips and hushed her into silent tremors. A well of tears streamed down Sara's face.

         “N-No. P-Please, n-no. You can’t make me!”

         “Ahh Sara, you shouldn’t fight me. You should be pleased that I chose you. I spared you, Sara. Remember?" He grinned his toothy grin. Memories crashed through Sara's mind. A ring. She had purchased a necklace from a wary vendor and wore it until she learned it had been stolen from a grave. Why she would do something so foolish, she no longer knew. Whose grave had it come from? It hadn't mattered to her. She had gotten rid of it, thrown it out like a piece of trash and told no one. She had forgotten about it until Bork appeared tonight.

         “P-please.” Sara gasped for breath and searched for absent words. “N-nooo…P-Please. Let me g-go!” Her pleas were useless.

         “Look, Sara, I come bearing a gift for you, something I'm sure you remember.” He removed the stone necklace that he wore and used one of his thick black claws to inscribe a symbol into it. The inscription held a fiery glow then turned dark once more before his claws closed around it. Bork held out his fist to her and waited. Sara quickly turned away and whimpered. “It’s too late to turn back the time now, Sara.”

         Sara watched as Bork coiled the necklace gently on her chest. The stone was hot like fire. She swiped at it, trying to knock it off her chest, but it immediately came to life, quickly slithering up and around her neck missing her hand entirely. She tugged at it, but it wouldn't budge. It vibrated a moment before turning cold once more. Bork smiled, obviously pleased. “Now we are one, Sara.

         “No! No, no, no! This isn’t real!” she screamed with closed eyes. “Please! This isn’t real!”

         When she opened them again he was gone and a white demon stood before her in the shadows. It fumbled with something--a glass jar? A moment later the white demon stepped out of the shadows revealing itself to her. Wiry gray hair dangled partially over its face. It stood sneering down at her from the foot of the bed as it closed the distance. Sara's eyes widened at its pointy teeth and resemblance to Bork.

         She tried to move, but it was useless. As Sara struggled, the white devil smiled wider. Sara tried once more--tugging at her arms and trying desperately to free herself, but it was useless. She remained helplessly secured to the bed.

         The white demon sighed, veered its ugly face at her, and withdrew a syringe. It stepped into the moonlight and transformed into a human nurse. “Having another dream are we Sara?” She cackled. “That’s okay by me, Sara.” “Time to take your medicine…Sara,” it spat at her. An orderly stepped into view and secured her arms while the nurse injected warm fluid into Sara’s veins. Sara's arms were like wet noodles now. Moving any limb took a great amount of difficulty and sleep was calling to her. Her eyes fluttered shut.

         The nurse dropped the syringe into a red, plastic box and pulled Sara’s covers up to her chest, then paused. Sara opened her sleepy eyes once more and gazed up at the nurse who appeared to be contemplating something.

         “Nice necklace.” She smiled down at Sara, baring a familiar mouth full of razor sharp teeth before she turned and left. Sara quickly peered down at her chest and glimpsed the smooth, dark stone that lay there. A golden inscription ignited momentarily to remind her that she was not alone. It hadn‘t been a dream after all and she was bound to Bork and the dark night. Before she was overwhelmed by sleep, Bork’s garbled laughter erupted from the darkness.

         “No, please. I don’t want to go to sleep,” she murmured before drifting off into dark, dreamy oblivion.