 |
| �������� He came to her from across the spice-laden sea, dark of brow and eye.� His voice, soft and melodious hypnotized her with exotic accents rich and redolent of warm summer breezes on bare skin.� Jeanette watched transfixed as his wide sensuous lips shaped words of desire, words that fell into the air between them.� She felt the heat of his thought, his words, his needs, as tangibly as physical caresses.� Involuntarily her back arched, a moan escaping from between slightly parted lips.� She turned to the sea, tasting the salt of it, the waves foaming and crashing to the shore an echo of her own inner turbulence.� Inhaling deeply of it's wild life she turned back to face him.� She was alone.� There was no one there, no footprints, no scent, no figure, receding in the distance.� Utterly alone, she stood on the beach a solitary figure.� Where was he?� Had she only dreamt him?� How could one dream so deeply, so realistically as to believe even for a moment that he had been there?� She could still feel the heat of his thoughts as if he had pressed himself against her, his dark eyes penetrating her blue ones with his powerful desires. Jeanette pulled her cardigan close to her and with a strange sense of fascination and foreboding walked along the shore.� She watched her feet press into the soft wet sand as she tried to reconcile her recent experience to reality.� Her mind roved down the list; there was one item that left undeniable physical proof, no footprints, whereas she was leaving a noticeable trail along the smooth sands of the beach.� Therefore, Jeanette told herself, there can't have been anyone really there and you were but a victim of the age-old malady, a daydream.� Albeit a vivid and most convincing daydream, but that is all that it was, dreaming with ones eyes open, staring out to sea.� Smiling to herself Jeanette hurried to the beach house, daydream nearly forgotten. Yet all through the day as she worked and spoke with others Jeanette remembered those dark penetrating eyes looking into hers, full of promises and passions. Darkness fell and with an air of anticipation Jeanette stood at her bedroom window, watching the nighttime sea.�� Entranced by its inky darkness, Jeanette gazed at white foaming waves glistening in the moonlight, a heavy dreaminess falling upon her.� She felt herself in that same dreamy haze unbuttoning her sundress, the garment falling to the floor at her feet in a puddle of discarded cloth.� The night air caressed her bare skin and with a divine sensation of sensuality Jeanette lay down upon her soft bed.� As if by magic he appeared before her, his wide sensuous lips caressing hers.� Jeanette did not stop to think how he got there or why he had come.� The feel of his lips upon hers drove all rational thoughts from her mind.� She gave herself completely to his deep demanding kisses.� His arms encircled her in an embrace perfect in it's completeness as his voice whispered his desires softly against her ear.� Her body shuddered with the consuming heat of unrequited passions until she thought the sensations would drive her mad and that is when he took her.� Claiming all that she was all that she had, impaled upon his manhood Jeanette gave herself unthinkingly and totally. |
| Night after night he came to her thus, claiming her, devouring her, enslaving her with his passions.� For a full cycle of the moon he came, never did he say his name or from whence he appeared.� He would kiss her with those lips and all questions would flee her mind, but this night he did not come nor the next.� Another cycle of the moon passed thus and still she did not see him.� Jeanette wandered through the days in such a haze of depression that it was the coming of the new moon that finally penetrated her mind. Jeanette then realized that not only had her lover not materialized, however neither had her menses and her belly had begun softly swelling.� The realization of her condition stunned Jeanette so completely that it was many long moments before she noticed that she was weeping.� She rose and walked to the mirror placing hands upon the swelling mound of her belly she stared with awe before gently touching her tender breasts.� Jeanette stood spellbound, unable to truly believe her condition reflected back in the gleaming mirror. |
| That night while she slept, Jeanette felt once again those wide sensuous lips upon hers, arms encircling her in a perfect embrace.� Soft secret words caressed her ears telling her of her great honor and purpose in bearing his child.� A child he told her that would be a son and grow into the most powerful warlock the world had ever seen, a warlock unequaled, born on the blood red moon.� He would, the voice assured her in intimate tones, fulfill a terrible purpose one that would not be disclosed to her until it was time.� She would know it most thoroughly and intimately for she would become known as the mother of undoing an honor unprecedented in the history of mankind.� Jeanette woke in horror to find herself alone and thinking it only a dream consoled herself thus before slipping back into deep sleep.Three cycles of the moon passed before she felt his words whispered in her ear again, her belly much larger now in it's swelling.� Like a dream he kissed and caressed her telling her secrets whilst he held her swollen belly in his two large hands.� Once more Jeanette woke to find herself alone and thinking it only another fevered dream let sleep claim her again.� Days passed in a haze and Jeanette began to fancy that she heard her unborn child speaking to her in quiet moments of solitude, whispered words of horror and abomination that she knew to be impossible for an unborn child.� Jeanette began to wonder if she had gone mad to imagine such things of her babe.� Yet each day the whispers grew more intense and frightening. ��� The months passed in a delirious haze of fear, each one finding Jeanette heavier and terrified of the child she carried within her.� She fancied that her lover came to her again in the night, this time without kisses or caresses for her, but with secrets he gently spoke against her belly as though pouring forth knowledge to her womb.� The next morning the abominations of her unborn escalated beyond any capacity for fear that Jeanette had thought possible to endure.� It was in this heightened state that reason penetrated her mind enough to finally question the validity of her lover.� Though this train of thought seemed to make her babe kick violently she pursued it, remembering the first time they had met and how he left no footprints upon the sand.� This memory followed others, she never saw him unless alone, he usually came to her in the night, in her room taking her without asking, she knew not even his name.� The babe within her became violent, the kicks so bruising as to take Jeanette to her knees, trembling with fear she listened to the poisoned whispers from her womb.� With dawning horror Jeanette knew that she had fallen victim to the age-old legend of the incubus.� The child's father was not human but demon and should she allow such a travesty to be born upon the world it would be the end of all things, as she knew it.� With no thought in her mind but the inescapable horror of it Jeanette pulled herself up from the floor.� Weeping with the terror and shame of what had been done to her Jeanette left her rooms.� Running down the path with the awkward gait of a woman swollen with motherhood Jeanette forced her mind to stay blank.� The kicks from her womb and poisoned whispers increased in intensity until Jeanette no longer be able to bear it found herself at the top of the bluff overlooking the sea.� For long moments, ignoring all else, Jeanette stood looking out over her beloved sea.� Then seemingly without thought she turned her head to the heavens and asking God's forgiveness cried out, "I die for you", as she hurled her body over the edge to the rocks below.� There she lay, beautiful broken Jeanette, curled as in sleep upon the rocks of her sea and as the waves kissed her flesh screams of pain and horror could be heard from her womb.� Till at last the sea wrapped her in a final embrace pulling her from the rocks to its depths as a lover and all was silent once more. � Linda H. Lawrence |
| Le Incubus de Jeanette |
| The Paper Dragon |
 |