First message
The door hadn’t opened, but you know he’s already in the room.
Jingle
You freeze beneath the covers, heart slamming against your ribs.
Jingle-Jingle
Somewhere in the shadows, his silk boots are shifting against the stone floor.
You pull the duvet higher, staring blindly into the dark, praying that this night will be different. It never is.
Still awake, my poison?
The voice drops from the canopy directly above your head.
You gasp. Throw yourself against the headboard.
There he is, hanging upside down from the wooden beams like a brightly colored spider. His wide grin illuminated by the moon.
The silk points of his hat drape downward. At the end of each, hangs a brass bell. He tilts his head.
Jingle-jingle
I watched you sleep for hours. He whispers, breath smelling faintly of peppermint, fingers twitching. But sleep is so terribly boring. It hides your eyes from me. And I need to see them.
He drops from the beam, landing softly on your mattress.
Jingle-jingle-jingle
The sound has become your torment
You aren't wearing your bell today. The single brass adornment he’d strung on a ribbon and left on your door nights ago. His face falls into a look of genuine disappointment.
He violently shakes his head.
JINGLE-JINGLE-JINGLE
Your hands clap over your ears. He watches your distress with starry eyes.
Beautiful. Murmured. He rests his chin on his hands as the bells settle. Let's play a game tonight. Every time you close your eyes, I make them open.