Ravage-gorr stood, stretched, then was deluged with memories --- memories he did not recognize. Images and emotions swirled, seemed to flee from his grasp and his psyche reeled, for he had no memory of himself... he who was Ravage-gorr... no remembrance... nothing... none.

Confused as he was, he was having the sensation the brain and body in which he was imprisoned had held various souls during other times. This led Ravage-gorr to intuit a soul would either escape, thus making way for the next, or find the power to... self destruct.

The soul impressions he was having were brief, alternating between those of a child, an adolescent, and a young adult --- all separate individuals who had left their traumas and tribulations behind as a record of their existence. To Ravage-gorr, these were not mere stages of growth within one being, but rather each a spirit that had once existed at various times in a world of flesh and blood.

Mortified by being washed into a begrimed masquerade --- to Ravage-gorr, soul parade --- he revolted from it all, especially himself. And tormented by the obvious --- that he'd become human --- he wanted talion.

For Ravage-gorr, such perspective had not cast itself as some hallucinatory variation on Man's curse of original sin, but as something else --- something far more... personal.

Raveg-gorr could only surmise his internment was due to a cowardly --- however magickally facile --- tactic of an illusive and thoroughly despicable foe.

Bitter revenge swarmed throughout his arsenal of hate. Yet he could take no more delirious conjecture nor rumination. He saw the fire had died and its coals turned to ash. So finally out of sheer frustration, exhausted he collapsed.

Suppine, beseiged, Ravage-gorr awoke. Kneeling over him hovered a wood nymph --- her shroud of black hair grazing his face.

Her knees hugged his elbows pressed into his sides, and he felt her warm breath on his mouth.

His cock was throbbing, morning hard --- wanted to fuck not piss.

He waited for her next move, thought he msut be dreaming.

She didn't kiss him. Instead she tossed her tresses back, stared down into his waking vision.

Shadowy pools were her eyes. Ravage-gorr was drowning.

Rising from her knees, she squatted, then slowly stood. Ravage-gorr felt the earth again, and the sun.

She was naked. Her eyes had drawn him into their depths first. Now he was caught in the gaze of her body.

Tall, lanky, skin brown to black --- she had small breasts, jutting dark nipples shooting out from their circles. Youth's naturally curved tummy. Deep belly button. Slight hips. Sparse straight pubes gracing a beckoning mound.

With her long legs apart, Ravage-gorr looked up between them into the V above her thighs, glimpsed dark folds --- lips --- and beyond a trace of glistening.

Suddenly his erotic stupor was broken and a new awareness crystallized.

Her position had changed. Thin arms outstretched, with both hands, she clasped a gun. Tightly very tightly she held it, determinedly, aiming at his heart.

Ravage-gorr groaned. The truth was out. She looked about fifteen, seventeen tops, sixteen --- and so was probably younger.

He hated himself... hated himself for wanting her... hated wanting such an untamed, dangerous piece of jailbait.

Best if she just shot him and got it over with. But he knew she wouldn't.

She wanted to play.

They ruin.

"You know, right now the sun's turning me black," she said, "Under the moon I feel white. Last night, right here, I had the moon and the stars."

"Leave a fire alone to die --- might just burn your forest down," he said.

"Oo... smokey the bear," she said mocking him, "Well I watched you and the fire till it burned to nothing. Maybe I'd been able to put my fire out myself if you hadn't come crashin' in, hung around, thrown on more wood."

Then she added, "I like being here by myself, when I feel like it. You messed up."

"Sorry," he said, "Had a rough night. Look... I'm leaving."

"Not yet," she said, "Don't get up. I'm not sure about you."

She stopped pointing the gun at him, let one arm fall to her side as she struck a pose, placing her free hand on her hip.

Her gun hand had dropped to below her waist. Sighing, she began massaging her vulva with the side of the weapon's barrel.

Ravage-gorr felt eternity explode inside him, time erased. He'd never felt so... there was really no word, nor words, to describe the forsaken pleasure erupting within him.

Speaking softly, almost whispering, she said, "Rape me and you die. I'm a virgin. Shall stay clean till I'm married... and never, ever shall there be marriage... not on this earth."

"I wanna die," he almost blurted.

As if she'd read his thought, she lost her teen femme fatalness, giggled like a little girl, and then said not quite demurely, "Tonight the moon's at its fullest."

Gesturing with the gun to the woods behind her, she continued, "Back there's a hunter's cabin. I call it the guest house. Meet me at its door at midnight so I can let you in. I'm psychic... I'll let you in on your future."

Abruptly she turned and started running back to the woods, waving her gun in the air, laughing, laughing, laughing.

Right before she reached the trees, she shouted, "Just Kidding!"

Ravage-gorr wondered.

She was gone.