Mid-week Blues Buster, 2.19

Prompt: http://thetsuruokafiles.wordpress.com/2014/09/09/mid-week-blues-buster-week-2-19/

There’s a secret room at the top of the stairs, where no one goes. Not unless they’re invited, and I haven’t invited you, not yet. You think the living hold sway in this place, in your home. You lock the doors and close the blinds and imagine that you live in privacy, where your secrets are your own.

There’s a desk in the secret room at the top of the stairs, where no one goes. Not unless they’re invited, and I haven’t invited you, not yet. But don’t rest easy now, your time is coming soon. The desk is locked, and only you have the key. You don’t know about it yet, assuming it’s a remnant from your past, but I placed it on the ring of metal when you were in a cloud of whiskey.

There’s a drawer in the desk in the secret room at the top of the stairs, where no one goes. Not unless they’re invited, and you are most certainly invited. You won’t heed the call yet, though. Oh, no. No one does. You wonder what you’ve forgotten. You dream of lost loves that never were. You feel a tugging at your innards, and take pills designed to balance your humours. Don’t worry, though, that’s just me in there.

There’s a gun in the drawer in the desk in the secret room at the top of the stairs, where you and I are tonight. I whisper to you your secrets, the things you locked away in your own secret room. You’ve answered the call to pay for your crimes, though in truth, you are an innocent.

There’s a bullet in my pocket that fits the drawer in the desk in the secret room at the top of the stairs, where you see me for the first time. I twirl it between my fingers, an amalgam of brass and gunpowder, and you reach out to take it from me. Once the bullet passes from my hands to yours, you regain the power to choose your fate. For that is the risk, and that is the joy. I hold ultimate control over my demesne while I call you to me, but here in the end, you become king.

We live together in the secret room at the top of the stairs, where no one goes. You’re mine again, as you knew you would be, and you join your voice to mine to make the call. We have need of another here in the secret room at the top of the stairs, where no one goes, not unless they’re invited. And oh, there are so many we will invite.

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