A Fire That Doesn't Burn (short story)

Michelle stood on the bridge gazing down into the blackness. Far below she could hear the rushing river beating against the pylons. Faint moonlight did nothing to illuminate what lay below and that was how she wanted it. She didn't want to see the river, the jagged rocks, the distance. She just wanted to climb over the railing and step off the edge, to fly for the first and last time in her life.
She reached up a hand to wipe at the tears trickling down her face. But wanting something and actually doing something were two totally different things for Michelle. The story of her life, never following through with anything.
Anger suddenly flashed through her. Do it! Just climb over and let go! It will only take a minute and then you don't have to be a failure any more. No one will even miss you, the voice in her head taunted.
"Leave me alone!" She screamed at herself, her white straining fingers clutching at the railing.
"But I haven't even spoken to you yet." Murmured a deep male voice from the darkness.
Michelle's heart leaped up into her throat as she spun toward the voice. "Who's there?" She relinquished her hold on the railing and raised a hand in defense.
"My name is Alastor. You don't know me, but I have been watching you. Tell me, why do you want to jump?"
Her eyes straining in the dark, Michelle tried to find the owner of the voice. "Who said that I want to jump. I am just standing here."
"In the middle of the night, crying on a bridge." The whispery voice changed tone, becoming a caress. It slid into her veins like a drug, her pulse started to pound in response. "Do you realize what a waste that would be?"
Suddenly breathless Michelle hugged herself. "I don't know what you are talking about." She stuttered confused.
"You have so much fire, passion, life. Such a beautiful life force." The whisper swirled around her, wrapping her in it's spell. Setting her blood on fire. "Why deny the world such a wonder."
Michelle trembled as the whisper seemed to become more tangible. To lightly touch her body, igniting a fire she had never felt before. "What is happening?" She whispered.
"You are awakening, learning what passion you have in your soul. Finding your desires, hopes, reasons for living."
The whisper seduced her in the dark, chasing all thoughts out of her mind. Sensations that she had never felt before flared into being, building in intensity until she thought she might die.
A gust of wind slapped up against her, waking her as if from a dream. Startled, Michelle found herself laying on the bridge. The voice was gone, the sensations were gone.
A chill ran over her as a deep longing woke. "Hello?" Her voice trembled, fear and yearning warring inside her. "Are you still there?" No voice answered back and Michelle began to wonder if she had been dreaming. Sadness washed over her at the thought. But this was a different sadness, different then the deep despair that had brought her to the bridge that night.
With a sigh, she sat up and started to climb to her feet. It was then that she saw the rose. Hand shaking she reached for it. Touching it confirmed that it was real and she marveled at it's inky blackness. Lifting it to her nose, the perfume briefly resurrected the earlier sensations.
Walking back home the sadness gave way to a growing excitement. This hadn't been a dream, it had really happened. She had to come back to find out who the voice belonged to. The deadness of her heart had cracked open, hope and wonder had wormed their way inside.
After the best nights sleep she'd had in years, Michelle sat at work watching the clock. The slow moving hands seemed to sense her impatience and mocked her by standing still. Co-workers glanced at her throughout the day with puzzled looks on their faces.
Finally 5 o'clock arrived and Michelle rushed home. Eating a quick dinner, she showered and dressed carefully. She took more care with her appearance than she had in a long time. Standing in front of the mirror, she looked critically at herself. Something seemed different, but she couldn't decide what. Her body was the same plump form she hated. Her hair the same nondescrept brown. Her eyes, what was it about her eyes? She leaned into the mirror, looking closer. Her eyes were a brilliant green tonight flecked with gold. They hadn't been this color for a long time she thought. If eyes are windows to the soul, I wonder what mine are saying now? With a snort, she took one last critical look, then left the apartment.
The darkness was complete by the time she reached the bridge. A gentle breeze scampered along, scented by the honeysuckle that hugged the trestles. As she walked nervously to the spot from the night before, the breeze teased at her hair.
"Why did you come back?" Came the whisper out of the night.
Michelle's breath caught in her throat as her heart started to pound. "I wanted to talk to you again. You left without saying goodbye." She chuckled nervously. "I don't really know why I came back."
The answering silence prompted her to rush on. "I felt so different after talking to you." She bowed her head in shame. "You were right, I was going to jump. Or maybe I was, if I could get up the nerve."
The silence stretched on, but Michelle sensed he was listening. "I want my life to change, but I don't know how to change it. I feel so alone some times, even though I have friends. I want to be needed by someone who's life wouldn't be the same without me in it." She paused and looked imploringly into the night. "Do you know what I mean?"
"Yes I know what you mean." Caressed the whisper. "I too have felt like this. As if you could disappear forever and everyone would forget you existed. That nothing or no one would remain to prove that you existed."
"Yes!" Michelle said fiercely. "That is exactly right!" Then her voice lost it's passion as she seemed to wilt. "But I don't think that will ever happen. I don't seem to be able to choose men very wisely. They all seem to be broken in some way." She laughed derisively. "But then I guess that is to be expected, I am broken too."
"Everyone is broken in some way." Soothed the whisper. "I am no different. I too yearn for what I cannot or should not have."
Michelle's breath caught in her throat. "What is it, that you want?" Her fingers picked nervously at her skirt as the silence stretched out.
Her heart froze, then pounded into overtime as a breathy whisper sounded by her ear. "I want you, Michelle. I have been watching you for so long, but I couldn't approach you." Lips grazed her neck, trailing down toward her shoulder. Hands caressed her arms, causing goose bumps to raise.
Michelle stood still as sensations washed through her, building with a shockingly fast intensity. Fire pulsed through her veins, warming her and awakening every nerve ending.
She tried to turn towards him, to touch him. But his hands kept her in place, still caressing her arms. She was confused at all she was feeling from so little contact. Then she couldn't think any more as he nibbled on her earlobe and the tension built to a fever pitch.
Her knees grew weak and he seemed to sense this as he pulled her back to lean against his body. He felt as if he was on fire. The heat from his body sent her over the edge, the tension releasing so powerfully that it was almost painful.
Her knees did give out then, but his hands and body supported her. He held her as shudders wracked her body, soft gasps escaping her lips. His lips still grazing her neck, seemed to prolong the release for an impossible time.
Then his voice whispered again, as if from a long distance away. "Sleep, beautiful one, my love."
A trickle of sweat running down her forehead woke Michelle. Opening her eyes, she looked with puzzlement at the sea of green before her. Jerking upright, she looked around in disbelief. She was laying in a field of grass, the summer morning sun beating down on her.
Off in the distance, she saw the old trestle bridge. He must have carried her here, but she didn't remember that happening. She blushed as she remembered what did happen.
She must have passed out, before he carried her here. That had never happened to her before, but then nothing like this had ever happened to her. She laughed shakily and smoothed down her skirt. She noticed than, what she had been resting her head on. A pile of black that when stretched out, proved to be a cloak.
Michelle ran her hands over the cloak, marveling at the soft feeling of it. It was unlike anything she had ever felt before and seemed to sparkle when turned in the light. Raising it to her nose, she inhaled deeply. A slightly spicy scent filled her senses, her pulse quickening in response.
Lowering the cloak before she got carried away, Michelle got to her feet and headed home. Confusion and excitement warring in her brain. She didn't know anything about this man, he could be dangerous. But even as she thought this, she knew that she would be back. Even if she knew that only pain awaited her from going down this path, she would keep on it. She felt more alive than she has felt in years. The sun seemed warmer and brighter. The air smelled rich with the perfume of life all around her.
She had forgotten how to feel this way. To open her senses, to drink in life. To let it fill her to the brim with joy and pleasure. She twirled in sudden abandon, then froze as she thought she heard a faint chuckle on the breeze. Straining her senses, she saw nothing and heard nothing more. With a slight shake of her head, she laughed. You are imagining things now, she chided.

She spent the rest of the day in a fog, her mind whirling. Fantasies spinning out of control. An occasional doubt would try to worm it's way in, but she refused to allow it. She felt so alive for the first time in years. She would worry about what could go wrong, when it acually went wrong and not any sooner. She knew this wasn't very smart of her, but she didn't care.
Twilight found her on the bridge again, hope in her heart which was firmly in her throat. The playful breeze returned, teasing her hair, cooling away the summer heat. Leaning on the railing, Michelle inhaled the perfume of the night, the wild flowers and animal life afoot in the woods around the bridge.
The twilight deepened into full night, the stars glowing brightly overhead. The silence stretched out and Michelle began to get nervous. Where was he? "Alastor?" She ventured faintly. She was afraid that if she spoke too loud, he would never come.
"I am here." Came the whisper on the breeze. "You came back. Are you sure you want to do this?"
Michelle laughed nervously. "I'm not sure of anything right now, except that I haven't felt this alive in a long time." She paused and sighed. "It's crazy, I don't know anything about you. I don't even know what you look like. But right now I don't care. I don't want to think, I just want to feel, to experience."
"As you wish, my love" Came the velvet whisper in the dark, caressing as before. Then she felt his lips upon her neck, hands lightly caressing her arms. Holding her as her passion overcame her and she fell back against his strong body. Almost incoherent in her passion, she cried out. "I want to see you, please." The heat from his body seemed almost to burn with intensity.
"Are you sure, my love?" He whispered. "I may not be what you expect."
"I don't care what you look like, I only care about how you make me feel. I want to share that with you, to give you pleasure as well." She whispered herself now, no strength for more.
Gently he pulled her toward the end of the bridge where a patch of moonlight shown faintly. "Come with me, love. I will show you all of me. And then you will know."
As he walked ahead of her, she studied his broad shoulders. Dark hair, slightly long, curled below his collar. He stepped into the moonlight and slowly turned toward her. Her eyes traveled up from his narrow waist, to broad chest, then on to his strong cleft chin. Her eyes traveled slowly, drinking in his image, committing it to memory. Then stopped to lock eyes with him.
The dark eyes looked into her own and Michelle seemed to be falling into deep pools. Suddenly flames burst into view, dark shadows twisting in the flames seemingly in torment.
Pulling back slightly, she caught her breath. "Who, what are you?" Fear teasing the back of her mind.
"As I said," he whispered. "My name is Alastor. I am also know as the Avenger. I was drawn to you, because of your pain, your misery. But I stayed because of the beauty your soul possesses."
Her fears trickled away as the whisper wove it's charm on her again. She found she didn't care what he was, only that he was here. The future was a worry for another day.

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