Jolene

'Based on a Tumblr post about the song "Jolene" by...was it Dolly Parton? I think it was Dolly Parton. Trying my hand at horror/mystery. Enjoy.'

Jolene, Jolene...

Jolene, please, Jolene, I beg of you, please don't take him away. He speaks of you every day, Jolene. He talks of you when he is happy, and he talks of you when he is upset. He tells me that you...change him. He tells me that you bring his emotions to places he never knew existed. He says that he doesn't entirely understand you, but a deep...hunger inside him wants to. Yet you push him away, Jolene, but then you bring him back, away from me, with your irresistable offers and your sweet voice. You are like an addiction; he knows he should not, but he can't help himself. He claims he needs you, Jolene. It hurts me to see him when you leave...he buries his head in his hands. He sobs that he's a monster. I cannot consol him, Jolene. He thinks I do not see him when he holes himself away in his room, away from me, and starts to break under pressure. But I do, you know. He pours out all his fears, thinking they make him weak, when he hides away from us both. He says that he needs your help, Jolene. But it breaks him.

Did you know that he speaks of you in his sleep, Jolene? He murmurs of you, and your sweet, honey-like voice. He tells me about you then. He explains how you are like a statue, how your ivory skin can never seem to burn in the sun, how your flaming locks of long, trailing auburn hair, the colors of leaves in autumn, falls so perfectly around your shoulders. Your smile, your perfect white smile, conceals so much of the mystery he cannot help but want to solve. He tells me, without knowing, how your eyes are so emerald green, how you have a voice that could make him want to kill if only you asked nicely. How you never seem to age, Jolene, in all the years you have walked in his dreams. You are like a statue, indeed, and the weather can never seem to erode your flawless marble. But when he talks of you, he says things that I cannot understand. He tells me, obliviously, of your biting venomous tone when you are angered. He trembles when he says that you are like a phoenix, and flames will bounce off your skin as the world around you turns to ashes. You have wings of darkness, Jolene, that wrapped him in a love of deceit, that cut his skin like obsidian blades and left him with scars of your madness. Your twisting, curling ram's horns shine like gold in the sunlight, the insanity in your eyes when you are displeased burning like a thousand suns. He fears your claws, Jolene, your long talons that dig into his arm when he tries to leave. You speak of the answers to his questions, dearest Jolene, you speak of the price he must pay to receive them.

He mutters about your history, Jolene, when he twists and turns fitfully in his dreams. You have had many who loved you, whom you gifted with your warmth, your hope, your scathing tongue and slashing claws. You have been around for so long, you have seen so much, you have known of the end since the beginning, that they practically worship you, Jolene. Their burning sacrifices are sweet to your senses, their wise obedience as they bend to your will, Jolene, as musical as a harp to your sharp ears. You are both their glorious start, and their tragic end, and they screech in terror at your merciless wrath. You have taught him, with them, to obey you, Jolene, with promises of glory and greatness, lest he meet his dark doom at your vengeful claws, just as those who have crossed you have learned. You keep them in check, Jolene, so as they might not tear your throne of night down, one piece by one piece.

He is in constant danger with you, Jolene. He wakes from your sweet, lucid dreams in a cold sweat, trembling and shaking as he mutters your innocent name. He calls you the Eldritch One, the one who has control. He regrets the moments he spends with you, O Jolene, but you are persistent. What do you want with him, Jolene? What is it about him that makes him worthy of your precious time? Why must you harm him so, and keep him with you by your poisoned chalice? What are you promising him, Jolene? He weeps when he pulls out of your nightmares, of your anger if he does not keep his word. Why are you hurting him, Jolene?

And he is not the only one to have terrors of you.

We cower down, beneath your furious gaze, Jolene, that sets the earth and world ablaze. Have mercy, we beg, at the end of the days, Jolene.

Jolene...Jolene...Jołe̺̩̭͙̙͍̞͍͗ͮ͒̄̌̓ͅ--

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