Black Candles

One moonless night so long ago, I met him at a club. A stranger on the dance floor and me, a helpless cub. The music swelled as I consumed the gaze of his dark eyes. His name was Chris, he told me. I felt my emotions rise. We spent the night together; I could tell where it was heading. His earthy scent leveled my defenses, I was sweating. He left me with his number, made me promise I would call, as a friend came up to warn me, standing breathless, near the wall. Don’t you know who that is? You should stay away. Don’t be daft, he’s so exciting is all that I could say We planned to get together and as that night grew near, I anticipated all with just a little fear. His eyes were first to greet me, then his musk and then his lips, as he lead me to his lounge with his firm but chilly grip. A drink? some music? a bite to eat? something's warming in the oven! He put on his favorite record; it was by a group called Coven The room was dim, let’s set the mood, he said, as he walked back. He began to light some candles, every one was black! A sudden shiver now eclipsed the sense of my well being. I should have listened to my friend, I thought, as I was fleeing. Only once thereafter did I come upon his gaze. At that same club, one year later, through the smoky haze. He was standing on the dance floor on an elevated deck. The wooden cross that I was wearing at once - fell off my neck!