Page 3 of Delectable Soul

“Granda, I’m a kip and a half, a complete mess. I’m not over Daire, and I don’t know if I ever will be. I’m not ready to date again,” she almost whispers the last part, and her eyes fall to the floor. Her grief is so lucious… I wish I was closer to taste its richness.

“I understand. I felt like the world ended when I lost your Nan. She was my pulse, my soul. But I was much older than you when she passed,” he says as he holds her hand and squeezes it, causing her to look up at him. “But if I could give you a solid piece of advice? Don’t waste your youth in grief. You’re too young and special to be alone. Daire would have wanted you to be happy. At least give it a try–you never know who you’ll find out there in the world.”

“I’ll mull it over,” she says.

After hugging the man, she heads to another room in the house, and I fly as a raven from window to window until I find her. She sits on a small bed, her head in her hands. Sadness pours off her in buckets as tears stream down her face.

I’m glad I found her today. I’m overdue for a delectable soul.

Fiadh

I need to go to sleep. Anything is better than being swallowed by your own grief. Granda meant well, but his advice reminded me of how no one could compare to Daire. He was my everything, perfect for me in every conceivable way. Why waste time being with someone less than when I know what the perfect man was like?

I move over to the far window, peering out over the trees. A raven sits in a tree branch that grazes the window pane. It has glossy, black feathers and a strong beak. Its eyes are trained on me, like it’s watching me. I can’t help but smile at it. Some older, superstitious folk see ravens as a bad omen or tricksters, but they’ve always been my favorite birds ever since I was a child. I’d see them throughout the woods whenever I came to Granda’s house. Their caws never scared me.

Whenever Daire and I saw one, he’d say‘Did ya know that ravens mate for life, love?’

I’d always reply,‘Then you’re my raven, cause you’re stuck with me forever.’

I wish that was the case. Guess that’s something this bird and I have in common, we’re both alone.

After getting dressed in my nightgown, I take two sleeping pills. The cottage is ancient, lacking central heat and air. The uncharacteristically warm fall weather we had today makes the room feel stuffy. I laugh to myself about Granda’s weird comments earlier.Lock all the doors and windows!Old age must set you in your ways. It won’t hurt to open the window a smidge, to let some of the cool air in, right? There’s nothing out there prowling around at night. I’ll just crack it.

I settle under my quilt and stare at the ceiling. As I drift into the fuzzy space between sleep and wakefulness, I think of the hallucination I had in the woods today, vowing to myself that I’ll start taking my medications regularly while I’m here.Never want to see something like that again.Granda has enough to worry about, and I don’t need him fussing over my mental health. My eyelids feel heavy like anvils as sleep pulls me under. The last thing I think about before the world goes black are those piercing red eyes.

* * *

Sharp taps on the window wake me from a pained slumber filled with visions of Daire.His handsome face. The twinkle in his eyes when he smirked. The way his lips parted when he’d touch me in my most private places.I roll over, turning my back to the offensive noise.I want to go back and see Daire again, even if it’s only for a little while.

As I drift to sleep again, I pull the quilt over my shoulder to shield myself from the chilly air. The eerie silence surrounding me sends shivers down my spine, but I chalk it up to being cold. Just as I cross the divide into sleep, a weight settles on the bed behind me, and my heart immediately races, as if it’s trying to escape my body. Then I hear it again, the same deep, rasping inhale from the woods…

I roll back over and see the black figure from the woods sitting on the edge of my bed, inches from where I lay. Its hulking body stands out from the darkness, a pillar of white skin and black shadows. It looks like a faerie gone wrong–ethereally handsome with stark features, yet mischievous and deranged. A pair of glowing red eyes bore into me, a physical symbol of the danger I’m in right now. I take a deep breath, desperately trying to ground myself before I have another panic attack.

This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This is a dream.

There’s no door separating me from this monster like there was in the woods. It’s close enough to reach out and touch me. As if it can hear my thoughts, it smiles, showing me rows of jagged, shiny teeth that glimmer in the moonlight coming in from the window. It inhales, and I feel a tightness in my chest. My breath catches as my mind spins, clamoring for a way out of this situation.How do I get out alive?

I lunge toward my end table to get my phone so I can call the emergency line, but it grabs my hands and slams them above my head, holding them in one if his boney claws. Their sharp edges dig into my skin. No matter how much I struggle, I can’t break free. Its hold feels like a vise, only getting tighter the more I try to fight it.

A deep, masculine laughter echoes inside my mind while simultaneously slithering across my skin. His voice sounds decadent, with a thick, archaic sounding brogue. He runs his free hand down my cheek and across my jaw, then trails it down my neck until it reaches my collar bone. Despite his shadowy form, his hands feel rough and calloused. Every inch of my body is clamoring for me to get away somehow, but I can’t move. I’m too scared to move. This thing is like something out of my worst nightmare.

Fiadh…do not struggle against me. We are inevitable.His voice clatters inside my mind as his lips curl into a devilish smile.

His free hand softly rubs my skin, trailing over the goosebumps, before traveling back up and collaring my throat. I can feel my nipples pebble beneath my nightgown, but instead of feeling scared or disgusted, I feel aroused. Then the rasping inhale starts again.

“What are you? What do you want from me?” I ask. Weakness overtakes me, and I feel as if I can barely breathe.

You taste delicious. For now, I want to feast on your fear…your despair. Your sadness. Eventually, I’ll want your soul. Just know that your fate is sealed. You can’t outrun The Hunter, Wild One.

His hand tightens around my throat, squeezing me until I start to choke. Black clouds the edges of my vision while stars dance in my eyes. The urge to inhale crawls up my throat, but I’m unable to let it out. He leans down and kisses me, and his lips feel cold and soothing against my own. They punish and claim me, promising more that I’m not sure I want. Dizziness takes over, and then everything fades to black.

I wake up and see the early morning light filtering in through the window. After taking a few deep breaths, I try to center myself… It’s morning. A deep, sharp pain radiates through my shoulder, and I realize my hands are above my head, in the exact same way the monster held them the night before. Gently, I lower my arms and roll to my side so I can grab my phone off the nightstand. Seven in the morning. I sit up, leaning back against the headboard as I try to piece together what happened.

I saw that creature from the woods again. He said he wanted to consume my fear and sadness? He wanted my soul, Granda’s ramblings about Sluaghs flash into my mind.

They prey on the sick and the broken-hearted.

No. That thing couldn’t be a Sluagh, because they’re not real. They’re the boogeyman Irish parents tell their children about so they don’t get sad. So they behave themselves and stay in line. There’s no way they’re real, so there’s no way one will feast on my broken heart and take my soul. That was just a very vivid dream. As soon as I have a free moment today, I’ll call my therapist and discuss either getting a new sleeping medication, or transitioning to another method of treatment.

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