Part I

The doctors say I could live to see my thirtieth birthday or I could die
in a matter of hours. I am terrified of dying, though I have Jesus Christ in
my heart (no insult intended to those who are of different religion) and I
trust, love and believe in him with all my body, mind, heart and soul, and
thus I am secured a place in Heaven. Nevertheless, I am still afraid of
dying.

There is so much I want to do, things and places I want to see. There is
so much left undone-so why am I going to die? I want to get married, see
SW-Episode III when it comes out in the movies-and loose my virginity to the
one I love or chose to give it to.

I guess I fear that there is no heaven and when I die, my soul travels to
a place of nothingness-that I will be no more. Or maybe I fear the unknown.
Maybe I fear that I will not go to heaven but hell-eternal death in the lake
of ever-burning fire and brimstone. Death is a vastly unexplored thing-once
one dies they do not come back. Yet there are those who have. It still
changes nothing.

I know everyone dies when their time comes, and I come to this saying I
remember hearing from the movie Braveheart: every man dies, yet not every
man really lives. I am going to die, but I have not really lived as I have
wanted or should or could. There is so much more for me to do and I may
never live long enough to do them.

Damn it! I don't want to die! I wish there was some way-no matter how
remote, that someone or something will save me from my fast approaching
demise. But for all the hope and faith and dreaming, there is no stopping
the inevitable.

I have a last wish. One I want with all that I am to happen, but I know
too, that it will never come. Yet I continue to want, desire and yearn for
it: that in the shadows of the night as I sleep, the man I desire beyond
words comes to me and makes love to me until the rising of the morning sun.
I would die a happy and fulfilled woman.

Tonight, again, I sit alone in the serenity and sanctuary of my home along
the east banks of the river. Since I have no real family or friends, I am
alone most of the time, except for my nurses every day and visits by my
doctor. I sit on my cream-colored leather couch, a blanket about me,
watching the flames of the fire in the fireplace dance to the music playing
loudly through the stereo speakers, set on carousel CD repeat. Enigma, my
favorite music for my mood-slow, sensual, erotic and makes one a bit
sleepy-I cannot help the yawn that slips from my lips. It is beautiful
music-almost spiritual and celestial and sexual at the same time. And soon,
I find myself wanting to cry, tears daring to spring from my eyes.

"*Sigh* I wonder what tomorrow brings? Will I wake up or will I die in my
sleep a lonely young woman with family who want nothing to do with her and
friends who she thought would be here for her? Oh, damn them all to hell!" I
exclaim angrily as I finally let my emotions loose and tears pour from my
eyes, and pulling the throw pillow into my arms, I bury my face into it as I
begin to wail aloud.

I cry for what seem hours until I feel the pull of sleep tug me gently
into unconsciousness.

*******

A soft breeze sends the light, sheer white drapes upon the paned glass
double doors as they slowly, quietly open, as if by an invisible hand,
nearby where the young woman sleeps upon the couch. The open book upon the
table beside the opening doors begins to flip pages with each gust of the
breeze and the candles dimly lighting the room begin to dance with the
currents. Then a dark figure appears through the open doors, but hesitates
before entering all the way.

The air of the room is fragrant with perfumes and incenses, candles light
the room with a sensual aura and the music intensifies the feeling to almost
sexual or erotic-filling the mind with images of lovers in intense movements
of desire and ecstasy. Then peering through the glass of the door, he sees a
young woman sleeping peacefully upon the couch not far away. She is the one
he had sensed, felt and heard cryout for him from a galaxy away. And he then
senses her reason why: she is dying.

Quietly, he enters and with movements practiced over more than half his
life, he moves toward the sleeping young woman, his eyes gently burning into
her very soul as he looks her laid out body upon the couch, up and down. She
is of the most beautiful of women, but she is surrounded by an aura of
sadness and despair that tears at her very being. Then he notices the
paleness of her perfect skin as he grows closer to her, the brilliant long
brown hair flowing about her contrasting her skin color, and the smell of
recent tears shed. She could be an angel of deep space legend for her
delicacy and beauty.

Standing over her, he watches the slow rise and fall of her well formed
chest, the slight flicker of her thick, long lashes and the movement of her
eyes behind her pale lids. And in her mind, he sees her dreams. He lets slip
a gentle smile at her dreams, understanding her desires, fantasies and
yearnings through it-she desires him unlike he has ever felt a woman desire
him before and it sends a wave of rare pain and sadness for her throughout
his body.
She desires him in one beautiful, intense intimate dance before the hand of
death claims her. A final wish before the end of a life he senses to be that
of one who has never had the life she wanted or thought she'd have.

"I can fulfill her last desire, but I fear that it may bring her death.
She is in a fragile and dangerous state and if I take her she may die in my
arms-but atleast she will die in sweet ecstasy." He speaks in a soft tone,
not yet wanting her to wake. "* But I can also save her. Take her, place her
in stasis until we reach my galaxy and there she would be saved. She would
be able to live a long and happy life. *" The dark man thinks with
realization, her death not the absolute end. But hope is a dangerous thing
to a Sith. There is hope that she may yet live, but as a Sith, he is of the
darkness-of the Darkside. There is no hope in the darkness. But be damned,
he will fulfill her last wish and desire.

Slowly, he falls to his knees before the sleeping woman and gently, he
runs his leather fingertip along the fine line of her bottom jaw, instantly
raising the hairs on her skin to its agitation. She lets out a soft moan and
shifts her lithe body into a different position, facing toward him.
Instantly he feels a blast of hot breath against him, sending a shiver
running up and down his spine and desire for the woman before him.

He cannot help but watch her sleep, the peace she in, the softness of her
features. And it all makes him desire her more-his member reacting to his
desire, hardening between him muscular thighs. His heart begins to quicken
and his breath becomes flustered and worked as his fiery eyes watch the pale
woman as she sleeps, oblivious to the world around her.

With his mind, with the use of the Force, he enters her mind, into her
thoughts, and begins the sounds of courtship. The males of his kind court
their mates with vocal sounds and chants. It arouses the females, seducing
them into a receptive trance-like state. But she is not of his kind, yet his
mental courtship appears to be working for another moan, but more sexual,
slip from her lips as her back arches softly. He hears her breaths quicken
and fluster, her heartbeats quicken-almost audible through her chest which
now rises and falls more rapidly.

"* Shackta re'Korva quor'Vrn kasatriva " He chants in a whisper to her in
her mind, as he takes her right hand gingerly into his and with a feather
touch, his lips graze the delicate, soft, fragrant skin on the back of her
hand. "* Wake, beautiful one. Open your eyes and look upon the man you
desire. *"

Slowly, her eyelids begin to flutter, and holding his breath, he watches
as her thick lashes part, revealing pearlesent crystal blue eyes. She looks
upon him and with a gasp of awe, disbelief, confusion, surprise and fear,
she quickly sits upon-pulling her knees against her as she looks wide-eyed
upon the man before her. And then a smile of joy begins to find its way upon
her face.

Instantly, she launches herself at the man before her, wrapping her arms
about his neck as they fall backward, landing upon the carpeted floor behind
him. He cannot help but laugh at her reaction-but he never expected her act
like this, despite her physical condition.

"It's you! It's really you!" She exclaims aloud in absolute joy s she
looks upon the handsome face of the man she thought she would never see in
true life, as she lie atop of him.

"Yes, little one, I am real." Darth Maul chuckles as I look down upon him,
kissing all over his beautiful face with soft little kisses, making me
bounce up and down upon his stomach as he laughs.

"* Oh such a beautiful laugh! *" I think as I stare deep into fiery golden
yellow eyes, drowning in their awesome colors and intensity. Then I
remember my last wish - to see, to touch, to taste, to have and to make love
to him before I die. And then tears begin to slip from my eyes.

I close my eyes as sadness begins to over come me and hearing my growing
sobs, I feel him wrap his arms about me, placing his hand upon the back of
my head, holding me to him.

But I soon feel uncomfortable with his rare tenderness and I stand up from
him. Immediately, Maul sits up. I have to quickly turn my eyes from his and
I look to the dancing flames of the fire still burning in the fireplace. I
keep my eyes to the fire as I hear him stand to his feet before me.

I feel his finger run like a feather, along my jaw, bringing his
fingertips to my lips and softly, I kiss them. I can feel the warmth of them
through the leather of his glove - it is hot and alive. And taking his hand
into mine, I hold his hand to my left cheek.

I sigh softly, enjoying the feel of his hand in mine, against my cheek,
the heat of his hand seeping into my cold skin and course through my body.
He is fire – living and deadly, yet his fire does not burn – it warms the
senses and the body as I have never felt before.

~ To be continued in Part III ~