Title: Moonlight Rose
Rating: PG-13/R for lots of :( sex
Length: 946 words
Genre: drama, angst, fantasy
WARNING: possible disturbing literary images!
Ed tag: Learn Your Creatures: incubus
A/N: I feel I should explain this a little. Honestly, this plot is not very original. I may have stolen it from somewhere, I'm not sure, but aren't a lot of incubus stories the same? That being said, this could really easily be just plain original fiction, but I was kind of having a jolly time imagining Yoochun with blonde hair/blue eyes. Creepy, right? The orig. story was supposed to be a girl having a nightmare about an incubus and then waking up---to find the incubus beside her. However, nothing goes the way I mean for it to. NOW. If anyone likes this a lot and WOULD LIKE TO WRITE A SECOND PART, I would be happy to hand it over along with my plot ideas and a few paragraphs for you to play with. I have too many unfinished fics to finish this, but it doesn't have to end here. Tell me if you're interested. This is the first and hopefully only time I paint Yoochun as a bad guy. The second part should include his compassionate side =/
Otherwise, read and enjoy/tell me what you think/how much you hate it. :D
A young woman stands in front of the mirror, the harsh light of morning showing her for what she is.
Her lips are raw, bruised and nearly bleeding, her skin is pale, her neck is spotted with love marks, and she knows if she lifts up her shirt she’ll find handprints on her body.
She swallows, swaying on her feet and feeling nauseous, and even if she weren’t sick to her stomach she thinks she’d throw up.
It’s only a matter of time until this has consequences, and how is it fair that she will be the one paying the price?
He began coming three months ago, appearing in the middle of the night, literally materializing from nothing and shining like moonlight. He was a creature of such strange beauty that it hurt the eyes. His hair was unnaturally blonde and his eyes were like blue fire, icy and commanding, but they still had a beautiful oriental slant out to the corners. He only wore black or white, but it was nothing that she saw him wear most often, and his body was hard and muscled.
There was nothing she could do but let him into her bed. His kind was like the devil, and if she didn’t accommodate him, there would be hell to pay. Her people would never argue this; they knew this had to be done.
So he began to take her.
He was so much bigger than her that their coupling defied all sense. The first time she saw him in all his naked glory she was terrified because there was no way he would fit in her, but fit in her he did, although it felt like he was ripping her apart. He would grip the iron headboard with his strong arms and use her until she was sobbing silently, hiding beneath him. She bled more often than not, and when he left it always stung, like adding salt to the wound because then she could feel herself shrinking back to size and knew this would happen all over again the next time.
Sometimes before it happened he would sit beside her on the bed, holding one of her hands while she mourned. His presence here was the end of her life as she knew it, and he understood that, but he didn’t care. Humans were here for his pleasure. The sight of them side by side was almost amusing. He was at least two heads taller than her when standing and she had the native coloring. She was darkness and he was light, on the outside, but it was the opposite of what was inside.
The very first morning she had awoken after a night with him she thought it was a nightmare, but she woke to a bruised, used body, and when she felt the stab of pain between her legs, she reached down shakily to touch blood.
But this was not the only thing he left.
Beneath her, she felt something soft, and when she rolled out of her bed she found a bed of rose petals.
Black rose petals.
Now she looks herself in the mirror and feels the evil thing beginning to grow in her stomach. Her skin is turning green with disgust beneath a sickly white complexion.
She knows that he knows about it. He knew about it before she did. He was buried inside her when suddenly he lifted his head, going still. She whimpered in protest when he rolled them onto their sides. He shushed her and moved closer into her. She bit her lip to keep from crying out at the discomfort.
Suddenly one of his hands steals between their bodies and he places his large palm against her belly. It is then that he lowers his eyes to hers and smiles, the blue fire making her eyes water. He is happy.
When she woke this morning among the black petals it was like waking to death. When she looks into her eyes in the reflection, death is what she sees, and when she presses her hand to her stomach, still feeling the imprint of his hand, death is what she feels.
Her people would argue that she must accommodate the incubus, but carrying his child… is a death sentence. They cannot allow her to breed with him, so she will be sacrificed, and the incubus will never come back.
It’s just a matter of time before they find out.
His name is Yoochun, he tells her this night. She was standing at the window when suddenly he came behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. They looked out into the night together, the curtains billowing around them.
She doesn’t know why he tells her this. It just means her killer has a name.
I want you to come with me, he says, reading her thoughts. She stays still in his embrace, wondering if this is the first time she’s heard his voice. She doesn’t register what he is actually saying.
He leaves her then, and after a few moments she turns to see him putting her few belongings in a satchel.
What are you doing?
We should leave tonight, he answers. It’s less painful if you don’t say goodbye.
Why would I say goodbye? What do you mean?
He stands before her and cocks his head, illustrating his other-worldly qualities, his oddness and yet his total understanding of everything going through her mind.
You can’t stay here. So come with me.
He takes her hand and leads her into the night, and when her family wakes the next morning her room is empty, the morning breeze blowing the curtains.