The sky was falling, and rippled at my touch, concentric rings of crimson propagating out from the tip of my finger. It hung above me like an ocean of blood, descending inch by inch, threatening to swallow me whole. 

“My dreams are strange when I’m with you,” I said, but stopped short of elucidation. 

“Colorful,” she replied. It wasn’t a question.

She was sitting on the edge of my bed, strawberry hair in disarray, one shoulder exposed to the morning sunlight spilling in from between the scarlet curtains. Despite the hours that had passed since our joining, her skin was still flushed, a sheen of sweat visible on her cheeks and brow. It was as though she burned from within, like her body was a crucible, her soul a raging fire. 

“Who are you?” I asked yet again, though in truth I already knew. I’d seen it in my mind’s eye when we touched, heard the rumbling of hooves in my ears. I needed only to have it from her lips. 

“Better to ask what horse I’ll ride,” she said.

“What horse will you ride?”

“A fiery red one,” she said. Something moved in her eyes, something...inhuman. 

“And the others?”

“Pale and white and black.”

I turned to face the window, besought by images dark and light: a flash of silver, an ocean of blood. Soon I’d be marching behind her, a soldier in her ranks. “Where are they?” I asked. 

“Coming,” she said. “They’re coming.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

I should have cared, but didn’t. I felt nothing but cold now, as though the fire she’d seduced me with had purged all humanity from my body. I wanted only to be warm again, to burn in her crucible for eternity, to once more touch the sky, and let it swallow me whole. 

“Will you stay with me tonight?” I asked.

“You’ll dream again,” she said. 

“Promise?”

She smiled.
 

Born and raised on the Canadian prairies, Kurt Kirchmeier comes from a large family of two brothers and five sisters. He currently lives in Saskatoon, SK, with his wonderful fiancee and a bothersome cat by the name of Prophet. Kurt's fiction has appeared, or is forthcoming, in over a dozen small press print and online magazines, including: Beyond Centauri, Kaleidotrope, Reflection's Edge, and The Horror Fiction Review.