His body shook with the rhythm of his steed. The rain pounded down on the forest and it’s lone central path. He didn’t know why he was riding, or how he got to this dark forest. His mind was clouded and he did not feel any emotion at the time. The path seemed to go on forever as the lightning burst through the sky jumping freely. He began to feel discomforted, as if he was being watched. He adjusted his cloak nervously looking back to see if anything followed. Nothing, it was dark but he knew nothing was following. Suddenly he realized his horse was collapsing as he rolled into the mud, raising himself slowly he adjusted his hood to see what had happened. The horse he saw was decayed, it looked as though it had not been living for a very long time. This notion disturbed him as he began to run in the direction he was drawn, the trees seemed to mock him as he passed them. His boots stuck slightly to the ground, forcing him to use more power to raise his legs. With one awkward step he took another tumble into the mud, he again felt the uncomforted feeling of another presence. The feeling got worse as he felt himself rise from the strength of another. The entity removed his hood, revealing himself. The creature was intimidating; he had shining ebony colored skin, his face darkly handsome, he looked at him through milky white eyes that made him feel inferior, although it rained he showed a black shining muscular chest unclothed. The man, of whom he doubted was a man at all, smiled at him with intentions unclear. He tried to speak, as his brow began to run with cold rain. “Who are you?” The entity laughed with a voice of pure domination as he threw him down and spoke. “I am one you will learn to fear little mortal, I know he comes to you in your days. I know you will betray my kind for those unfit to be recognized.” He lay in the mud confused by the entities words as he spoke wearily. “I have never betrayed a soul… I am not a traitor.” The creature of which he now called him, for now he saw that it had small horns and bright yellow fangs that shined, sneered at him, which sent a chill down his spine, it spoke again. “You have not betrayed yet mortal man, but soon you will be given the choice… I know your future, I know the choice you will make, and I know what you will become… I will destroy you.” The creature’s eyes pierced him once again as he felt another entity behind him sloshing through the mud. He quickly jolted his head back to look upon a large man resembling a devil he had read about in a book. The devil walked with confidence he bore small red horns that curled around his head, he stood tall about twice the size of any normal man, and he dressed in long finery that was draped in red and black designs. He walked past the man still lying helplessly in the mud as he grabbed the other creature by the throat lifting him high into the air the devil spoke. “You interfere in my business little demon… This man is none of your concern, he will not be swayed by your sharp tongue!” His voice boomed with the lightning as the ‘demon’ as the devil called him pulled away from his grasp and drew a long curved sword. He choked out the words, “You have no power over me Asmodeus… I am not one of your archdukes that can be controlled by simple intimidation…” The demon charged at the tall red devil and a clash of pain and darkness struck the helpless man’s mind.
He awoke in his bed at the dead of night, the moon shined through his room window like a spotlight. He rubbed his deep blue eyes, remembering the dream he had vaguely. The more he tried to make sense of it all the more his thoughts faded away, he suddenly cast it aside as only a dream. His pale skin and unkempt blond hair both shining in the moonlight as he stared out the window from his bed. He lay back down to sleep in the bed that he had rented out for it’s purpose, and tried to sleep again. Just as he closed his eyes he felt a burning sensation in his chest that made him cringe. He rose again and lifted his shirt to see the cause of his discomfort. He gasped in the dark as a red glowing pentagram sizzling like oil on his chest. He clasped it hoping to numb the pain but it did not stop. He rolled out of bed lying face up breathing heavily fearing death. He had never been a bad person; his eyes began to dilate as he reminisced about the past.
A mother had raised him with no male counterpart; they had never discussed his father before, if he ever tried to bring it up in conversation she would ignore him. He lived the middle class life of a merchant; his mother and him traveled a lot it sometimes felt as though they were running from something. Soon after his twentieth birthday his mother died while he was away in another town. A messenger had told him on horseback a day earlier. He was traveling to see her off and mark her grave, the messenger did not tell him the cause of his mother’s death, which at this point was unsettling. He analyzed his dream more hoping to discern something from it. Suddenly he remembered a time when he was called anonymously as a child to participate in a meeting at a town his mother was working in. He was around sixteen at the time, and had been drawn into studying law and the occurrence of devils in the world. The group of high-class nobles wished his permission to denote a traitor among the town. He was confused as to why they were asking him, but he continued to have a heated conversation about the man’s crimes and what he was actually guilty of. The older men saw him as a higher being at that time, in an awkward way so did he. For that day he felt powerful, it made him feel good and he wanted more. Soon they made the decision to see the traitor dead and the nobles saw the young master home. After that day he became a bit more concentrated on his own social stature, which soon lead to him going his own way leaving his mother behind. It was beginning to make sense but he didn’t like how it was all fitting together. He knows one thing he had to go to see his mother; he had to find out how she died. Before he could make another thought he felt the pain of the burn fading as he fell into a deep sleep.
He awoke to the sound of pattering rain against the windowsill, a gray dreary sky showing through. He arose from the floor and dawned his long black cloak and walked out of his room into the long dark hall. It was silent other then the sounds of nature, suddenly a door opened down the hall. A beautiful woman stepped out; her hair was long blond and strait as the fields of wheat that run along the countryside. He was compelled by her beauty for the second and refused to move his body. She looked back at him and he took a sharp step back, there was something unnatural about her beauty. She was no normal being; she smiled with comfort and walked towards him. He began to shake as he reached for a knife he concealed in his side pocket. She reached up and put a hand to his cold face and spoke softly into his ear. “You are not alone, do not fear the darkness of your soul…” She put the other hand to his chest as he felt the burning sensation again. He tensed and took another step back speaking steadily. “Who are you…? How do you know me?” He slowly drew the dagger that had been given to him by one of the nobles all those years ago. It was inscribed with a language foreign to him and socketed with a beautiful shining ruby that seemed to glow when he grasped the hilt. The woman glanced at the dagger and smiled more, she laid her soft hand on it and lowered it back to it’s sheath, she spoke again. “You have nothing to fear from me, I am only here to… Guide you.” She smiled after she spoke the word; she made it seem of evil intentions. But he trusted her for some reason, he felt compelled to trust her with his life. He looked around franticly hoping for something to say in response. “I… I don’t know what’s going on here, but I suppose a travel companion couldn’t hurt, my name is…” She swiftly interrupted him but still calm, “I know your name Jareth.” His eyes widen underneath the veil of his hood, she knew him and he didn’t know how, it seemed like lately everyone knew who he was more then himself. He wearily began to try to ask her for her name, but decided against it for the fact that he was far to disturbed. The woman looked out the window as a bolt of lightning cracked and the inn shook with a rumbling thunder. She spoke more avidly now, “We should go… The storm is picking up and if we don’t hurry we will be traveling through the night, I have horses outside.” He looked out the window one more time following her outside and mounting the horse, he said wearily. “Have you had the feeling that something seems familiar but you can’t place what it is…?” She looked back her hair flung specs of rain all over as she began to tie it up. “I think… Why?” He pondered for a second as he looked off to the distant forest they were about to travel through, “No reason…” They struck their horses as the hooves began to beat against the fresh mud and away from the small inn.
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A tear is shed for the pimp I could be...