New Reviews

Read Helen Mihajlovic’s ‘A Dark Love Story’

We haven’t had much in the way of erotic fiction submitted. But Helen Mihajlovic’s, A Dark Love Story was certainly impressive enough to make the publication cut. Helen’s prose is gorgeous and this sadistic story of a denomic intimate cycling is quite refreshing. Don’t take my word for it: it experience it!


A Dark Love Story


In the night he comes for me while I peacefully sleep. He disturbs my dreams. He resembles a demon, a beast and a wolf. He whispers in my ear, ‘Adele, my name is Duncan.’ I wake in a sweat, my heart racing as I breathe heavily.

It has been a year since this creature entered my life. With him he brings constant torment and unrest, yet he is hard to resist. My safety can only be assured during the day, for he never ventures during this time. He lurks in shadows of my dreams, never allowing me to see his face in complete light. He reveals little of himself and that which he says could be a lie. Yet he is very persuasive and can lure you into his world where all is dark.

The morning has come and I am glad it is day. The sun shall keep him away from me. I put on my pretty white dress and brush my long ebony hair.

After breakfast a black carriage waits outside to take me to a suitor. As the carriage brings me towards him, I know the suitor is not the man my heart desires. He is tall and very young. He wears the finest suits and hat. We will dine with the most superb cutlery, eating poultry and the sweetest desserts. There will be silence; we have nothing to say. I feel like running away. I search for true love, yet in seeking it, all I find is torment.

The day is coming to an end, my suitor waves goodbye and it is a cold farewell.

The carriage takes me home to my mother’s warm smile and she hugs me. My eyes fill with tears as she recognizes my absence of love yet again. She assures me not to worry, that some day the right one will be there for me.

I enter my bedchamber and I look around in fright. Will the demon come tonight? I slowly drift into a nightmare. I hear him whisper to me.

‘It is Duncan.’

But he’s nowhere in sight, except for a trail of blood on the cold ground. I follow it to a gothic gate that opens as I approach. A staircase leads to a dark dungeon. I am shrouded by darkness. I stumble on the stairs, cobwebs clutch me and I rush into Duncan’s sharp claws. He grabs my waist and my heart clatters in my chest. Duncan lowers his claws to my upper thigh and scratches my skin as he tears my dress.

He presses his chest against me, his hair coarse, his odor sour. He tantalizes me with his knowledge of history, literature and philosophy. The conversation with him leaves me elated.

Nearby, a table sags under the weight of any sort of food one could desire.

Duncan grabs the meat and pushes it in my mouth. I eat ravenously. He places rice and dates into my mouth. I ask him where I am.

‘Macabre origins onus,’ he says.

‘Leave me alone. Free me!’ I plead.

‘No, it is impossible,’ he whispers. ‘Follow me.’

We arrive at a room with red walls and gold ceilings. He takes a sweet from a dish on the table and puts it in my mouth. I experience a sense of pleasure on my tongue. His sharp claw circles my nipple. I awake.

I can smell smoke on me. It smells similar to the room Duncan had taken me to. The room had fires everywhere, as if they were keeping Hell warm. But how is it possible that I can smell them on my clothes? Duncan only exists in my nightmare!

My mother meanders into my bedchamber carrying my breakfast.

She tells me of a possible suitor that I could visit today.

‘I’m tired. I’ve been looking for love for years, only to find pain! I want to stop looking for a while. I want to forget love,’ I say.

Mother places her hand on my shoulder, smiling warmly.

‘I don’t want to see a suitor today.’

‘Very well,’ she says, leaving my bedchamber with a gentle smile.

I peer out a window for most of the day. I feel alone.

Night emerges. I am sleepy; I need to go to bed early. As I sleep, I hear a whisper.

‘It is Duncan.’

His claw traces the side of my face and neck. He reaches for my nipple;  caresses it, leaves small scratches. I scream as his sharp claws shred my dress. But my heart races as I feel desire. I lie in front of him naked. Every angle of my body is visible to this evil being; yet it excites me. Placing his body on top of mine, he begins a motion that gives me pleasure.

This monster can never love me; he can only give me fleeting moments of delight. This monster is not my true love; he is an illusion of happiness. Does this evil spirit even know how to love? I hope to one day find a good suitor, one that really cares for me. This monster from the pit only cares for his pleasure. Yet I cannot end my desire for him. I shut my eyes. He kisses my lips. I awake.

I am tormented throughout the day. I try to hold back my tears when my family is near. I dislike Duncan for all the suffering he causes. I think of him and the passion we have. He is an evil spirit that may enter thousands of women’s dreams in one night. What can I do to be rid of him?

I hasten to our library, looking for literature on ridding an incubus. I desperately search and I find a prayer. I recite it before going to bed.

‘I withdraw all invitations and permission to all incubuses. I command you to leave my dreams and allow me to rest.’

He is gone for eight months. There is peace. I am taken to meet many suitors.

One by one they all go wrong. One of the suitors is abusive, the other fills the time with mindless conversation. One is too young, the other too old. One doesn’t see me as fit to be his wife; and, many whom I don’t see as fit husbands. To be with them would be a waste of a life.

I cry myself to sleep. As I drift off to dream, I hear a whisper.

‘It is Duncan.’

My heart beats faster. I am aghast! We are in a room filled with naked people and they all touch one another. Duncan tears at my dress. We sit on an antique chair; the couple sitting opposite caresses one another. Duncan spreads my legs, between which the couple can see. He strokes me between my legs with his claw, I am afraid he will hurt me. The man opposite us touches his partner’s voluptuous breast. My monster lifts me, places me on top of him and he is inside me. The man opposite us is also inside his partner.

When we are through, a woman comes to Duncan and places her mouth between his legs and begins a hungry suction. To my surprise, I am not jealous; watching this act excites me. After hours, we are all tired.

I ask Duncan, ‘Why won’t you free me? I never want to see you again!’

‘I can’t. You keep calling for me.’

I realize this is true. Perhaps it is my loneliness or it is the lure of darkness that makes Duncan hard to resist. The forbidden that makes it so enticing. He cannot resist my call either. But there is misery in this evil.

Each night as I drift to sleep, I am frightened to dream.

© 2013 Helen Mihajlovic 

About The Overseer (1669 Articles)
Author of Say No to Drugs, writer for Blumhouse, Dread Central, Horror Novel Reviews and Addicted to Horror Movies.

1 Trackback / Pingback

  1. An Interview with Helen Mijahlovic. [WUR 2015] | L.S. Engler

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