Side Effects

[DoF Archive]

Date: 11/12/2002 7:58 AM Central Daylight Time
From: Sarah The Stick


There is a tunnel, coated in black asphalt, licked by orange flames traveling through it from below and above, encircling the walkway with their waves of invisible, suffocating heat. Proceed down the path, and in time grinning half-skulls can be seen wind-whipped through the hellfire, battered with hurricane force, as a raven-haired ghost floats idly, searching for
direction, empty terror in its pale face. Rocks, metal scraps, needles, and other debris emerge blindingly fast, clacking sideways, forward along the hard surface, and back into the chaos. A young slave boy sprints across the path, flesh and blood spontaneously formed of fire. He looks down the passageway longlingly for a few brief seconds before allowing himself to be consumed once again.
In time, the press of torture and rage becomes ever more intangible. Skulls and ghosts melt into shrieks of pain. The blaze itself presses down, storming maniacally in all directions, threatening to remove this bizarre avenue from existence, yet always leaving a.teasing sliver of space open for flight. Fit into these gaps and find the causeless screams growing louder, always louder, the heat more oppressive, the unmitigated chaos expanding
ever further until the light appears, the escape from a hell beyond measure, and dive, dive in, dive through-
-coming out into a free-fall of mindless insanity as you plummet into a fire that never ends, unable to hear the screams which trail behind you, destined to be the next raven-haired ghost.
Unless your name is Sarah Allian.
Then, you walk without fear, savoring the unique experience of being truly within your element. You stand in serenity, warmed by the ghost-touch of an unreal blaze, soaking in the strength of Firestar's cries, watching the scene playing in the escape hatch light. You see the dark-haired man, wiping the last beads of sweat from his brow before you kiss him good night. He smiles that smile you love, he takes you in his arms, and he sleeps,
and you do not, nor will you this night. You know he can never know this. He would declare your prize- your complement- a danger, and try to take it away from you, and you know you could not let him. Or, he would force you to choose between himself and Firestar, and you will not allow yourself to be put in that position, because you do not want to lose him.
So you watch him, the Inn's noise a vagueness miles distant, and wait for him to stir. Then, you will close your eyes and pretend, and when he inadvertantly rouses you from slumber with his rolling or his yawning, you will open your sleepy eyes, kiss him good morning, and make love to him, because as your best friend used to always say, there's no better way to start the day than with a good, quick shag.