Amid the darkness, your eyes shot open, only to be welcomed by a deeper darkness. Overhead, in the distance, the luminous beams of the moonlight danced. Your arms went out on either side of you, searching, grasping for something, only to be welcomed by the soft silken texture of padding. Your eyes began to adjust to the darkness, the rectangular shape of your hole coming into focus. You half expected your bones to creak as you sat up, palms still grasping at the silk surrounding you.

“Hello?” you spoke, but the words never met with the air.

You touched your throat, swallowing, when you felt the raw flesh about your neck. The moonlight beckoned you with the promise of answers. It was time to leave your plot. Your fingers dug into the walls surrounding you, only for them to crumble into your nails, un-sturdy and wet.

Resolute, your fingers dug in further, gripping the soil, clawing your way up. The soft, prickly sensation of grass welcomed your palm as you pulled yourself out.

“You’re awake.”

The voice, smooth like honey, sounded from nowhere and everywhere at once, the moment your bare feet touched the grass.

“A little too soon, I’m afraid.”

You stumbled to your feet, brushing the dirt from your palms. The moon beams shone upon the sparse meadow, surrounded on all sides by trees of ancient girth.

“Who’s there?” you attempted to ask, your voice once again failing you.

Something danced in the slivers of moonlight, like glittering dust in the air, shining as the pale light caught them. The leaves rustled from behind you.

He stood tall and resolute like the wise trees from whence he emerged. Skin as pale as the moon itself, hair darker than the well of a hole from whence you came, eyes darker still, hollow and filled to the brim all at once. His lips turned up in a smile, so subtle the muscles of his face hardly felt its effect.

“You have something to say?” he tilted his head, “Is that it?”

To answer would have been futile, and so you took a step forward, noticing for the first time, the white gown cascading about your ankles, spattered with dirt.

“Here,” he took a step forward, his own feet bare, “I had to keep it while you slept.”

The man reached into his pocket, his veinous hand producing a cloudy blue marble. You remained still, not by your own will, but by the sheer command of his presence, as he approached. Hardly an arm’s length away, he brought his thumb to your lips, dragging it down to reveal your bottom row of teeth.

“May I?”

With the slightest of nods, he brought the marble to your lips. Pushing ever so slightly, the smooth, cold object entered your mouth.

“Swallow.” He commanded, and so you did, “Now speak.”

“I can’t.” you said, as clear and certain as the sensation of his fingers still lingering against your chin.

He smiled, this time, more sardonically.

“You can do whatever I will you to do.”

His piercing gaze jolted down your spine and, suddenly, you found yourself wishing you had no voice.

“Now speak.” He straightened up, taking a step back, the smile slowly fading from his ruddy lips, “You have questions, I’m sure.”

You looked down at yourself, barefoot, shifting dress flowing in the wind about you, the soil evident in your nails and heels.

“Not that question, yet, love.” He spoke, “We’ll get to that soon enough.”

You glanced from him to the moon overhead, the leaves atop the trees rustling in the perpetual breeze.

“I… don’t know what to ask.”

“No, you just don’t want to.”

You bit your lip. “Who…”

He folded his arms, waiting, although the question was evident in the one word alone.

“Who are you?”

“Someone you knew for a long time.” He smiled, “When you were younger.”

You furrowed your brow, “I don’t remember.”

“No,” he scoffed, “You certainly don’t.”

“Then can’t you---“

“Next question.” He demanded, leaning against a nearby tree.

You pursed your lips, observing his arrogant demeanor.

“Why am I here?”

He frowned, unfolding his arms to grab a hold of a branch overhead. He leaned his head against the tree trunk, glancing at your feet.

“You did it to yourself.”

“Did what?”

He hesitated. “You brought yourself here.”

“And where is…” you looked around the empty clearing, “Where is here?”

He didn’t speak, his brow knit in deep thought, his eyes never once drifting from your face. He breathed slow, calculating.

“You could have had me.” He spoke quietly, through a pain you couldn’t understand, “Didn’t I warn you? Didn’t I guide you all those years?”

A breeze danced against your spine, prickling at the hairs on the back of your neck. You glanced at the hole. There was a face, obscure, but smiling. No, not smiling. Grinning like a Cheshire.

“I gave you everything you asked for,” he continued, pushing himself off the trunk. He took a step forward and you noticed how the dirt never tainted his soles.

“You don’t remember you promise, do you?” he reached out to you, hands taking a hold of your own, “You promised every night for years.”

You shook your head, feeling your palms chill at the sensation of his hands in your own. You looked down, only to notice the lavender like pallor of your fingers.

“I don’t remember.” You continued to shake your head, “I don’t remember you.”

What you remembered was another face. No, not a face, just the grin; the ever present, ever growing grin. You remembered the warmth of its hands on your body. And you remembered a feeling. A sinking in your stomach. A cold sweat in your spine. A constricting in your chest, perpetual and ever intensifying.

“You broke your promise, love. One too many times.”

His hands slid up your arms, the chill, the purple pallor spreading like ink in water with the touch of his fingertips. He leaned in, hand cupping your cheek.

“Even after everything I gave you,” he whispered, his icy breath paralyzing your lips, “Even after all the times I saved you… You couldn’t be faithful.”

You shook your head.

“I didn’t---“ you stammered, “I don’t---“

His hand shifted from your cheek to your throat, fingers digging into your flesh in an instant. You gasped, gagged and exhaled the cloudy blue marble. He let it fall to the floor between you, his fingers loosening around your throat.

“If you can’t use your tongue properly, there’s no use having it.”

Your lips moved as if to speak, not a sound leaving your lungs.

“I warned you,” he spoke sweetly, with all the tenderness of a lover, “There would be temptation. I did warn you.”

His glassy eyes danced over your features, never lingering in one place too long. His hand caressed your cheek, the other tangled in your hair.

“But you let yourself give in anyways.” He tilted his head, “Did you not want my love? Is that it?”

Tears threatened to spill over as his eyes, swirling and deep, met your own. He smiled, pitifully.

“There’s nothing I can do now, love.” He sighed, “I don’t have the power.”

His gaze dropped to your lips, “I gave it all to you, and look what you did.”

His thumb once again came to your lip, the pad running gently over red flesh, “All I can do is keep you cool, for now.”

He leaned forward, his lips hovering just over your own. The purple pallor painted your limbs entirely, stiff and unmoving. You could hardly feel the tears falling down your cheeks as he kissed you softly, hands caught in the tresses of your hair. His lips petrified your own, like frost, spreading to your cheeks, your nose, your eyes. The cold clouded your vision as he pulled away. Through the tainted cold you could hardly make out the frown darkening his features.

The dirt beneath your feet began to soften and sink as his hands left your body, his presence fading by the minute. You tried to call him, to call anyone, to move your lips, but it was all in futility. His voice once again sounded, from everywhere and nowhere, ringing in your voice like an echo.

“I have to let Him have you now.”

Your vision blackened completely as his voice muffled and faded away. The soil reclaimed your body, crawling over your legs and arms, the blurred light of the moon long gone.

You remembered a grin, and you remembered a hand, reaching down, pulling you from your hole, and you remembered the burning.

What you didn’t remember anymore was your promise. What you didn’t remember anymore was the cold.