Sunset

           The air was humid. Dawn tasted salt with every raw gasp. She leaned against the cavern wall from which vein-like protrusions pumped a foul-smelling liquid. Sweat trickled off her face and neck as she lurched forward in an unyielding heave. She heaved between gasps, eyes singed by the salty air.

           Two parallel gashes between her shoulder blades oozed. The remains of her dress clung to her flesh, damp with sweat and blood. 

           “Come out girly,” cried a beastly voice from the mouth of the cave. 

           Dawn pushed herself against the wall, just out of sight from her pursuers. She listened to the footsteps as several demons poured into the cavern, heard the revving of their mechanized, saw-like weapons. The scent of smoke and oil permeated off their clothes. 

           “Me t’inks ta girl afraid of you, Catal,” remarked a she-demon with a raspy voice.

           “Me t’inks she should be,” the beastly man, Catal, replied, “but it’s more fun t’at way, sister.”

           “Indeed brot’er,” she replied, “almost as fun as tw’ll be ta sell ‘er.”

           “Only after our boys’ve ‘ad t’eir fill wit’ ‘er,” said Catal.

           “Or she’s ‘ad ‘er fill of ‘em.” The she-demon laughed. The others, a gang of reptilian, bipedal demons, chuckled amongst themselves. 

           Dawn held her breath as the voices grew near. She listened as they smashed their way through one of the many stalagmites jutting up from the floor. The saw-like weapons they carried made butter out of stone. 

           “Do you t’ink she’s bled yet?” asked Catal from the other side of the wall.

           “I don’t t’ink angels bleed, bro’ter,”   replied the she-demon, “I don’t t’ink t’ey can be bred."

           “A shame, sister. We could earn a fortune if we used ‘er ta breed more of ‘er kind. I’ll betcha t’eir young are even prettier,” said Catal. 

Dawn felt a scaly hand on her shoulder. She looked up.

Catal’s yellow eyes beat down upon her. Hot, fish-scented breath burned her ear as he molested her neck with his snout. Teeth jutted out from the side of his mouth, sharp and rotted, and he opened it in what she believed to be a smile, revealing even more of the jagged things. He dragged his rough tongue across her cheek. “Found her.”

           Dawn backed away, until she hit the side of a stalagmite. “Get away from me,” she said. Pools of boiling water were dispersed around the cave, one of which she stepped over as she backed around a stone spire. 

           “Now, now, girly,” said Catal, “Running will only bring more pain.”

           “You would be wort’ so much more in one piece,” said the she-demon, who was behind him now, “but we ‘ave buyers who prefer t’eir slaves wit’out arms and legs. T’ey like us ta sandpaper t’eir teeth down ta nubs or yank t’em out one-by-one, so a girl be not’ing but an object ta be used.”

           Dawn moved away, fumbling between stalagmites and pools of boiling water. There was a crack as her foot twisted on a rock, and she fell forward onto the cavern floor. She winced as she turned to face them, still on the floor, blood dripping from her nose. 

           “T’e fate of t’ose girls is seldom pretty,” said Catal, creeping closer. “A pretty girl like you �" you don’t deserve t’at. Skin as white as sugar, eyes golden wit’ heaven’s light, wit’ a hairless body like a child, yet on a woman grown. We could easily find a man who’ll see your wort’. I’m sure t’e right buyer would keep you intact and well-fed while you’re young still.”

           Dawn stood as the rotund, reptilian demon walked toward her. She flinched as her ankle felt the weight of her body. Tears mixed with the blood and sweat on her face.

           Catal tore through the stalagmite in his way with a mechanized saw. It came apart in pieces around them. Dawn jumped as a sharp piece of rubble hit the ground beside her. The demon edged closer, only feet away. She grabbed the rubble and held it before her, a makeshift weapon. It trembled in her hands.

           The demons laughed. “T’e girl looks as if she’s never held a weapon,” said the she-demon.

           “It’s a good t’ing we don’t need her ta fight,” remarked Catal. He stood in front of her now, his weapon down and in one hand. He stroked her jawline, and whispered, “Such a pretty, pretty girly. I’ll be your first. Don’t worry, I’ll be nice an’ gentle. Can’t say t’e same ‘bout t’e men t’ough. T’ey’ll be t’e ones ta really break you in.”

           Dawn’s eyes widened. Her grip around the rubble tightened. From her lips escaped a cry, as she plunged the stone into his chest.

The Day Before

           Hot wax dripped down the side of the candle. Dawn’s eyes followed each droplet as it licked the crumbling pillar, the pool beneath the candle growing larger, harder, and melting again with each new scalding droplet. She gazed into the steady flame, bursting whenever the evening breeze caressed it.

           She lay on her side, conscious of her slowed breath. Air filled her lungs and then burst forth. Grass tickled her skin as she moved to lay on her back. Golden eyes reflected the twilight sky.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” said David, standing over her. His white wings were unfolded slightly, feathers swaying in the breeze.

Dawn’s eyes grazed the curve of his neck, his protruding collarbone, and settled onto the V-neck of his loose shirt. “Glad to see you dressed for the occasion,” said Dawn. “How long have you been there?”

           “Long enough to see you picking your nose a moment ago.” He sat on the ground beside her, sleeves rolled up to reveal bronze forearms. He watched the sky. “Lovely night for a wedding, isn’t it?”

           “Of course,” said Dawn, sitting up. She stretched the wings that had been folded beneath her. Across the lake was Paradise City, dotted with grand marble buildings. The Tower of God was at the city’s center, a pillar-shaped spire thrust into the evening sky. As nighttime approached, the green-tinged stone of which the tower was made began to cast its faint, familiar glow.

           David ran his fingers through tousled hair. “Remember when I tried to sneak in there?”

           “The tower?” she asked. The canopies of blooming apple trees danced in the wind. Children played in wildflower fields beyond the gristmill, where a red-faced woman had sat to rest. “The guards snatched you the moment you got inside. We were grounded for months.” 

           David leaned his head upon her shoulder, his breath warm on her neck. “There was nothing but stairs in there.” 

“Stairs that lead to God’s throne.” Dawn ran a finger over the satisfying parabola that connected his brow bone to his nose. She traced the edges of his chapped lips, and touched her own. “The throne where he watches us with his ever-seeing gaze.”

“Or so they say.” David stroked an oval-shaped bruise on his neck with his thumb. The scent of sweat and azaleas lingered in the air. “I don’t want to marry you.”

Beyond the field was a vast and clear lake, in which Dawn often played as a child. She would pull rafts onto the water and pretend she was a great hero, traversing an ocean teeming with monsters. Wielding sticks as swords and a piece of bark tied around her arm as a shield, she would stand triumphantly over the corpses of her imagined foes. The angels of Heaven would revel at her feet, and she would be hailed as the hero of all the realms.

           But such imaginings were unnatural for a girl. Dawn was grateful that she had been enlightened by the words of the lord before her games of make believe were discovered, and she sentenced to death for sin.

“Nonsense,” replied Dawn. “We’re soulmates. We’re two halves of the same soul, ordained by God to be together forever.”

David gazed upon the horizon. Exhaustion pooled beneath his eyes.  “What if I said I loved someone else?”

“Then you would be lying,” she replied. She took his calloused hand into her own. “You’re cold.”

           “You’re warm.” David pulled his hand away. There was a finch nearby, chirping in the trees. “I am not going to marry you.”

           Dawn inhaled, as fully and deeply as her lungs allowed. She set her eyes on the grass beneath them. “Then we’ll be killed.”

           “I’m leaving this place,” he continued. 

           “There’s nowhere to run.”

           “There’s Hell.” His voice wavered, eyes rimmed with red.

           Dawn placed a hand on his cheek. “Sometimes I find myself unable to resist touching you,” she said. “I want to caress every part of you, every piece of you laid bare for me.”

           “I’m sorry.” David pulled away. 

           She stared at her trembling fingertips extended in the air. “I don’t understand.”

           “You want what you will never have.”  

           Dawn clenched her fist. She shook her head. “I won’t go with you.” Her voice cracked. “I would rather die.”

           “You will if you stay here.” David grasped her arm. “Please. I don’t want to condemn you to death�"”

           “Then don’t go.” Tears streamed down her face. “Stay here and marry me.”

           “I’m sorry,” he repeated, pulling his hand back. “I’m leaving tonight.”

           The sun set upon the realm of Heaven, as David disappeared through the trees. “Then die I must,” she whispered.

           It was quiet outside the city as Dawn made her way through the field of wildflowers, to an abandoned fishing shed. Rough wood was hammered together with misshapen nails.

There was a spider’s web between a child-sized raft and an oar. Moonlight reflected in the spider’s eyes as it gazed upon her, black and hairy. “I’m sorry, Mr. Spider,” she whispered, as she pulled the oar off the wall.

She hoisted the raft onto the ground and dragged it to the shoreline. With a kick, it plunged into the water. Bouncing ripples shattered the illusion of a glass lake. 

Dawn waded through the water, dress floating into a disc around her thighs. She clamored atop the raft. On the other side of the lake was Paradise city, dotted with candlelight. The scent of roasted crab lingered on the air from a restaurant on the far shore.

           There was a glowing field of stone on the lake floor �" Godstone, like the tower. She paddled toward the lake’s center. The full moon cast a circle of light around her. 

           “Tomorrow, I am going to die,” she said. She stood up, balancing her weight on the raft. She extended the oar into darkness, as if wielding a sword. “When they find out that my other half has abandoned God, they will condemn me to death in his place. For his sin, and mine of being unwed.”

           Dawn’s voice echoed into the night. She pictured a dark figure standing on the water before her �" a villain. “I am resigned to my fate. For without him, I am without purpose.”

           She imagined the villain charging towards her. Dawn blocked its sword with her own. She struggled against it, until she used her sword to force the villain down. With the tip, she lifted the villain’s face. “I have come far to face you,” she said. “I have ventured across treacherous mountains, mysterious forests, and this angry ocean. I have slain monsters, rescued towns, and made dear friends along the way.”

           Dawn balanced at the edge of the raft, oar outstretched. “Today I face you finally. In this last battle, live or die, win or lose, my fate has been decided.” She moved to plunge the sword into the villain’s throat, and plummeted forward. With a splash, the water overtook her.  

           She hung there, extended in space. Her outstretched hands were made porcelain by the moonlight. The lake floor, glowing green, was dotted with runes from another time. Rocks created canyons under the water, plants created trees. There was a knapsack on the lake floor, pinned under a rock. Dawn descended. 

The brown pouch was stitched together with multi-patterned patches. She unfastened the metal clasp, poured a humble collection of copper coins onto the ground. The sunken treasure glistened in the moonlight. 

She grasped the apple as it floated from the pouch. It was round, fitted to the palm of her hand. She marveled at its freshness, its unblemished red skin, and allowed the water to lift her. Her wings expanded as she soared through the water, spiraling to the surface.

Dawn emerged from the lake, expelling her held breath. She absorbed the crisp air into her lungs, and pulled herself onto the raft. She reveled in the coolness of the air on her skin, watched the expanse of stars outstretched before her. The apple was smooth on her lips. She took a bite. 

Sweet juices ran over her tongue and she wavered, savoring it as she chewed. She took another bite.

And then she was laying on the grass with David, embraced by the warmth of the summer sun. He drew close, hot breath on her face. They kissed. Tall grass danced in the afternoon breeze. Golden eyes gleamed in the sun, and he brought his lips to her ear. “You have to save me,” he whispered. 

The raft jerked as Dawn’s eyes snapped open. The moon had moved away from her, and she floated in darkness. The oar was gone.

“I have to save him,” she whispered, and slid into the water’s cool embrace. She swam toward the city, muscles coaxed by newfound determination.

She plunged atop the shore. Hair clung to her skin as she pushed herself from the dirt, mud clinging to her chest and arms. The streets of Paradise city were nearly empty, except for a few stragglers making their way home for the night. She shuddered in the breeze, arms wrapped around herself as she went, dripping water through the street.

She stumbled down the thin alley between the register’s office and an apartment building. Grass and vines overran the stone. The apartment was made with an extra few feet of space on the second floor, which created a ceiling along the path.

She fumbled over the stone fence that led into an abandoned fountain square, green-tinged water sparkling in the light. Moss and weeds had worked their way into the crevices between each stone. 

She made her way down another ally, until she emerged into the garden. Early morning light crept onto the horizon. Rose bushes dotted the path, dew drops sparkling like jewels. The gate was in the distance; a large hole in the ground leading to darkness. A man was there, peering into its depths. 

“David!” Grass tickled her blackened soles as Dawn sprinted forth. She extended a hand, preparing to grasp his shirt before he leaped into the abyss �" and froze. 

A woman was jutting out of the hole, her body stretched and twisted like a snake. Round breasts curved at her n*****s, and her waist was like an hourglass. Long, black hair fell around her like a shawl. A pair of horns jutted out from her temples.

The demon caressed his cheek, placed her forehead on his. She whispered something to him, and brought her lips to his.

Dawn shivered. Her legs moved forward again, faster and faster, breathing heavy, unable to control her own muscles. The demon took David into her embrace, and descended with him into darkness.

Dawn leaped into the hole behind them. She plummeted into darkness, arms outstretched, air whipping past. At the end of the tunnel was a red-tinged light, and she was thrust into a vast, open sky.

She fell through golden clouds, illuminated by a sunrise that set the sky aflame. She outstretched her wings to break her fall and was racked with pain as they disintegrated, blood-tinged feathers falling around her. She screamed as her vision turned red, unable to move as she plummeted.

           There was a sensation like a thousand needles stabbing into her at once. Flames licked her body from the inside out, eyeballs oozing from their sockets, flesh dripping off her bones. Then came the darkness.

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