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Night Shadows

By Robert R. Sytnick All Rights Reserved ©

Erotica / Adventure


A prelude of war has existed across the globe for years. Britain calls her commonwealth countries to join her, in their hour of need and force back the hands of tyranny the world is about to face. Canada sends her finest men, including a young pilot from the prairies who is shot down in his Spitfire over the English Channel, and is called home by the white cliffs of Dover. His recovery, his witnessing of the bombing of London, and his romance which molds his heart and body into a sensual love affair. But, war is Hell and duty calls, taking precedent over his life. His blind love affairs taunt him, and in a world at war he must find his true love.

Chapter One

A cold chill encases me. I am swirling in an endless funnel, twisting and turning into a spiral heading. I have no thoughts of time, no feeling of pain, no memory of a yesterday, nor a calling of a tomorrow. An emptiness clings within me, leaving my hollow core helpless, I am dream walking, free falling, painting Picasso’s in my mind as I drift endlessly.

Stillness wraps its way around the darkness squeezing any light from vision. Night shadows appear. I am held hostage in the dark, my soul begs to find life, and my lungs grasp for new-found air. Tranquillity takes hold of me. I look down, and see myself. Am I in Heaven or Hell?

Pain awakens my immobilised body. My teeth clench down, harder and harder to ease the intense pain. Darkness retains its reign. The colour red squirts its flushes in my eyes. I am surrounded by muffled sounds that I do not understand or comprehend. Smells uncommon to me turn my empty stomach. My legs lay numb, my arms tingle, feeling like I am being eaten by ants. Swollen fingertips move, not knowing what they are touching. Darkness fills into my empty thoughts, and time once again lets me escape.

A hand embraces my face, its warmth stirs a pulse. My breathing finds rhythm. A nudge on my shoulder sways internal emotions, evoking a memory. A past is revolving from me, trying to find an opening; an opening to my hidden fears, perhaps a hidden past. My mind struggles to focus, continually forcing me out like a circuit breaker that is being tripped, and bringing me back to what is now. But, what is now?

“Lieutenant. Lieutenant Scott. You have woken! Glad to have you back with us,” comes the voice of an excited female. I feel a sudden strength awakening, and pain is jolting from inside me. A flood of blood rushes through me. The colour red is being squeezed out of my vision and replaced with subtle greys and murky whites. Tiny sparkles dance downward in my sight, evaporating with the need to blink, and spontaneously appearing without command. The showering light display slowly erodes, but now, in slow motion. Chills that are attached to my spine slowly warm, leaving cold perspiration behind on a once white sheet. My sleeping muscles ache, craving movement to relieve the vice like pressure. Rhythmic spurts in my veins shock my legs, and the cotton blanket covering my feet ripples to their swaying.

“Hold still Lieutenant, this won’t hurt a bit.”

Her young hand sweeps a trail of foam across my stubble face. Her gentle hand strokes me with a bristly shaving brush. The soothing sensation eases my tense, irritated body. It’s not a colour I now see, but a vision, a vision of beauty.

“There, that wasn’t so bad. Now turn to me.”

I stretch my dry eyes to the right, my neck refuses to follow their lead. Without hesitation, she places her hand on my foamed chin, turning my face to hers. A weakness ensues; I become flushed, jittery, helpless. My manhood wants her to go away. I need time, time to regain my thoughts, time to find absolution and time to find me. Tears of emotion, I do not understand settle into stomach, and cause my heart to softly bleed, skipping its natural pre-rehearsed score.

“Lieutenant, please. Do not worry. I have done this hundreds of times.”

A shinny silver blade comes towards me, scrapping across my right cheek. The sound of the dull blade chiselling at my stubble face echoes in my head. Sweat breaks out across my forehead, rolling into my left eye. I am captive to her. Her white blouse soaks the sweat from my right side. The smell of her bold enhanced chest firmly pressing against me creates a desire. A wanting arises. My mind yearns. My fingers tempt. My past awakens. A deep craving unveils itself.

“Now, Lieutenant. I am going to wipe your face. Gosh, I see you broke out into a sweat, hope you’re not coming down with anything, Sir. Oh dear, my blouse is wet. Silly me, how did I do that?”

My breathing slows, relaxing the impulses which I am feeling. Her scent sooths me and calms my emotions.

“Sir, I am going to brush your hair for you, so relax. I will be done in a jiffy. There you go. I best move on now, I have other patients to tend too. The head nurse or doctor should be around to see you soon. My name is Evelynn. In the event you may need me for anything, just holler.”

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