In Too Deep
Photo: Mathieu CHIRICO
Last night, she came into the world of my dreams and rocked it upside down. She was all of splendour and beauty.
Her flawless, brown eumelanin skin looked like she had bathed in pure gold and honey. Even Cleopatra would wince at her resplendence. The hair on her head was like the golden sun twisted into locs.
Her lips were as crimson as sin, sweet to kiss. She touched her lips to mine, and I drowned in the sweetness of her mouth.
She wanted me to be hers.
She took my hands in her slender ones and gave me a suggestive smile, urging me into the universe of her eyes. They looked like the two paths into the Milky Way. I entered the galaxies.
She was like the figure eight. A perfect sight to behold. Every man’s desire. She was clothed in a short, silver silky dress that clutched to her figure like a second skin, showing off her cleavages. Her breasts ample, like twin gazelles feeding in the fields.
Wrapped around her slender waist were golden chains, and on her wrists and ankles were pure gold pieces of jewellery. You would think she was the queen of El Dorado.
Her rings tickled my face as she caressed it. I could feel her nimble fingers everywhere she touched me.
She flapped her magnificent wings and took me into the sky. In the second heaven, we were surrounded by colourful clouds. All shades of beautiful.
I looked back to Earth for a brief hesitant second, but she cajoled me, enticing me with sweet, addicting kisses.
My brain felt like it had evaporated into one of the clouds. I was hers already; she didn't have to do too much. If she had asked me to follow her to the fiery depths of hell, I would have. This desire and passion were too overwhelming.
She was too good to be true.
A sudden sense of panic and unease crept its way into my heart. I snatched my hands out of hers, suspended in the air.
She looked hurt for a second. I almost changed my mind; wanted to put my hands back in hers. But suddenly, her demeanour changed from hurt to rage.
The colourful arrays of clouds began to darken into dark clouds. Fear gripped my heart. Her golden locs morphed into snakes.
Vicious and deadly, even Medusa would tremble.
The pentagram was now branded on her forehead. Her once beautiful eyes became black and soulless. Two paths to hell. I could now see the great men she had lured and trapped, screaming in anguish and burning in eternal flames. Their screams still haunt me.
Her silver dress faded to black, and the chains around her waist became vipers. Twin horns grew out of her head, making her even more hideous.
Her smooth, brown skin turned pale and pallid.
I was frozen throughout the entire transfiguration. It was like I was before the old serpent, the devil, herself.
She grabbed my wrists, the fire from her sizzling my flesh. She wasn't enticing me anymore; she was dragging me to the pit of Hell.
She pulled me lower and further into the darkness. Below us was a lake of fire, burning with brimstone. She gazed down at me, no mercy in her eyes, and let me fall into the lake.
As I tumbled down the great height, she loomed above, watching me fall to my end.
She is the old serpent herself, the deceiver, the strange woman.
She enchants you with her smooth, honeyed tongue. Like Eve with the apple, Jezebel with witchcraft, Pandora with the box, Potiphar's wife, Zulaikha, with her desire—until you fall onto her lap like Delilah.
She is the way to hell, the path to the chambers of death.
I see the big picture now. She is two entities in one. But she never reveals her true self until her victim is in too deep.
About the author
Abasiofon 'Abbey' Ebio is a creative writer, actor, singer and musician. She's a big lover of art, and comes from a long line of writers who quit writing when they grew older. She's looking to be an exception.
