Imposing Darkness

Slowly it moves down your throat. Pressing itself further and further down, lethal like mercury, but slow. It wants you to suffer. Invisible, this bringer of both pleasure and pain is hellbound on your destruction, but you are in love with it. You know what will happen to you, you know that you will die, you know that you are marked. But ignorance is your secret desire, and you live in a state of constant denial about your faith. Fulfilling your self-made prophecy as you die a little every day, your body is going to break down, soon, after partially disabling you first. The darkness inside you, materializing in your lunges, getting ready to strike from within, after tearing down your defenses first. A drug, it fuses itself to you, like a vital part that you can not let go of, a deadly intruder. The impostor tells you that it's nice and good, and gives you promises of sweet pleasure, though at the same time it's doing it's best to erase your memories of a life without it. You become it's host, an empty shell, existing purely to keep the darkness alive, until it kills you and moves on to someone else, someone you love. You brought it on them, hours of standing so close and sharing your darkness eventually got to them, spreading the virus into their veins. They become addicted, just like you. And as you lie there, in your final hours, coughing, looking at your loved ones showing the symptoms you had a few years ago, you realize how they'll end up... Just like you.1

And then you wonder, why did you ever start smoking?2

Rewinding time, would you do it all again if you got the chance?3

Everyone else would say, no, of course not. But they have never tasted the sweet pleasure that the darkness brings with it, have they?