This is a Love Story

darkwingduck@newsletter.paragraph.com (DarkWingDuck) — Thu, 27 Jan 2022 20:28:28 GMT
Beautiful melanin skin. Light with perfect lips. Her touch is perfect. Her *love* is perfect. Pain has tempered her into a fiery wave of heat. It scorches most, but baby I’m bulletproof. Their love is something neither of them experienced. It is something unseen in today’s world.

 Until recently everything has been perfect. Something has made my dream woman begin to act *strange.* She’s still the same. She still folds my bed and cleans my room while I’m at work. She still holds me the same she did the first time I met her. I can tell there’s no secret being hidden either. I know it sounds ridiculous to say she’s different when nothing has changed, but I feel it. My soul yearns out trying to tell me something. I’ve brought it up to her and received only the notion that I’m going insane. My mind won’t rest until I FIND WHAT IT IS. After some thought I've concocted a plan. 

  It’s Tuesday. The hour is seven after. Normally I’d be at work but I’ve called off. She doesn’t know. I’m going to stalk her to see what has happened to my wife. Glaring through the stained window pane, I see her. Wearing a dingy brown nightgown. An old raggedy thing it is. Scrubbing away at a few dishes while Boondocks play. How typical. Nothing out of the ordinary, I’ll report back shortly.

  The time is eight-forty. Not much has happened. She cleaned the entire house, used the laboratory, and ate. At other times on her phone watching videos and making Tik Toks. Just now she had disappeared into the bedroom. Not unlike her. I’d normally be returning home in about forty minutes. When I arrive she’s either sleeping, or laying down watching television. I’m going to enter and see if I can find something. 

  I write this letter to save the next. I hope it reaches you in good health, before it is too late. I entered my place of refuge. Once in I creeped up the stairs. Diligent in not making a noise, not even a whisper. Creeping towards the bedroom I place my head against the hard birch wood door. My ears are gripping to whatever sound it can find. Nothing. Not so much of a breath. Out of confusion I peek in and see our room in total chaos. The mattress is thrown to the wall. The metal frame is torn to shreds while the closet and desk is reduced to almost ash. In the center of the room a hidden door is opened. Unbeknownst to me a hidden room was beneath my bed! Creeping down the hole; lime green cobblestone line the walls. I hear inhuman chants and whispers entering my psyche. After a few moments I reach a wooden door from the Victorian era. I hear her speaking in an unnatural tongue. Something that sounds impossible for humans to be able to pronounce. As if the pits of hell gathered the souls of the damned and had them trying to speak underwater. 

  Once I peek through the door I see HER. Her skin is leathery like a suit. It’s peeled off and stars as if we were in space are hidden within her. Eye’s twist and turn, while hands and fingers protrude out of every crack and orifice. Wait. It’s tinkering with something. God could it be! Its hand grasps no physical items. Objects that don’t exist in our dimension. Something the human mind was not meant to see. Peering into such things makes my mind ache. I must persevere. Memories. It’s my memories, family, friends, and dreams. Is that my mind in its hand. Out of fear I fall back and make a loud bang. It looks back at me and we lock eyes. It wails a hellish scream. Without hesitation I ran out of my home and have been ever since. I can sense her presence near me. I can't escape her. She has my very mind in her palm. All I can do is leave this note and hope you can get away before it's too late.