By Karen van den Andel. Translated from Dutch by René Damen.
Warmth… Sweat… Smells…
You and I together in the dark. In a satin diffused night making love together.
I had to wait for this so long, be patient endlessly. But finally it’s here, you wanting me as much as I want you.
Your breath stalls as you watch my masculinity, I agree that you are right when you say I’m beautiful.
I kiss you. You tilt your head backwards so I can kiss your neck. You breathe heavily.
I find you pretty too, your body, hair and eyes…
She strokes me, my underbelly responds. She laughs.
You know how to do this… That’s why I chose you…
The night is intense, time came to a halt.
I bite her neck, taste her blood on my lips. She moans softly, her breast moves heavily up and down, against mine. For me this started out as a routine, but she’s giving me much more than all those other women. This is not what I’m accustomed to.
I touch her breasts with my fingertips.
She straightens her back in quiet ecstasy and tightens her muscles. I feel her weight pressing in my lap.
You like it. I do too.
A metal glow in the candlelight, a muffled cry as we come together…
Sweat… Blood… My blood, her blood… The warm, ecstatic smell of blood…
There were more of them… But she is special…
“Are you remorseful for your actions and do you ask God our lord for mercy?”
I look up and see the chaplain. I don’t react. My hands and feet are tied with cuffs. The metal feels cold against my skin.
“Then now is the time.”
The chaplain signals the guard. He grabs my cuffs and checks them.
Next we walk the long corridor passing cells with men who, just like me, never will leave this prison.
While I’m walking the hallway, supervised by guards, the woman walks up to me. This time something has changed about her. The sensuality I saw for the first time when I met her in the bar is gone. She looks pale. I look at her while she walks up with me in silence. Dried blood shows in the corner of her mouth, her white dress is stained dark red. She has heavy bags under her eyes. Then I notice the hole in her neck, the edges ruffled blue and purple and the exposed tendons of a wound that will never heal.
I close my eyes when we enter the gas chamber. She stays with me while I am strapped to the table.
Even when the darkness sets in, all I see is her.
And nobody else, ever again…
About the author:
Karen van den Andel (1974) is director of Fantasize.
About the illustrator:
Marcel van der Sleen (1984) had followed an education in graphic design, but the urge to express himself through drawings and illustrations stayed, so he started his career as illustrator. His passion is fantasy & science fiction, as it gives him the possibility to let his imagination run free.
© 2020 – 2022 Fantasize, Karen van den Andel, Marcel van der Sleen & René Damen