It was raining. Michelle hurried from shelter to shelter, trying- unsuccessfully- to remain unwet. She had been scoping out several bars, hoping to locate another cultist. They wanted to find out the identity of someone higher than a simple member, to get some hard information on the numbers, and what they might be up against. Cassie had been optimistic, thinking that, if they caught someone higher up they would "convince" them to not kidnap people- maybe even not kill. Mark, on the other hand, was not convinced, but he wanted to try.
Mark was in the next town, running his mind across as much territory as he could. Michelle was stunned by the sheer amount of his abilities; he could sink into any mind, any thought, and shift it to his will. Any fantasy, any need, he inserted himself into in a way that was almost artistic. He was getting stronger too; his range had grown, as had his control. He could walk through a room and touch every mind inside individually, and coax a response from them all. He had even worked out a way to feed subconsciously, but he still had sex as often as he could.
She caught something, away to her left. Both a noise, and a thought. He was chasing someone. But his mind was strange; it was a mass of mirrors and broken glass. Her thoughts reflected off him like the rain off her body. She locked on.
She had noticed, fairly early on, that she could do that. Lock on to someone, and make them want her, even need her. She hadn't tested the edges yet, but she was fairly sure she was stronger than Cassie. They way she was made had made her powerful beyond even Mark. Just as Mark could link minds individually, she could tell how hot everyone in a room was without looking. With her eyes closed, she could read everything as a heat signature. Her mind reading was different too; when they spoke, Mark said his was kind of like listening to far away music, and that he could catch snatches when he tuned in. For her it was like everyone was a piece of art, all conflicting colours and shapes that made perfect sense in her head. This image that she got of this one was interesting.
She saw a more complete picture now. He was definitely a cultist, but he wasn't looking for a man. He was searching for a woman, and a particular woman at that. She saw something along the lines of a rite, involving a girl being bent over an altar, and a man standing above her with a dagger. The image was from the man's perspective, and she smiled. They had found their high cultist.
She followed him, into the bar. He was relatively attractive; dark good looks, muscular but not ridiculous. He was taller than Michelle by at least a few feet, topping 6.5, probably. A big man, and a dangerous one. There was something about his mind, a sort of buffer that Michelle had never encountered before. The picture she encountered was hazy, as though some of it was shrouded by fog, rendering her unable to see through it.
The cultist chatted up a blonde, and the woman was more than receptive. She leant towards the cultist, a smile toying at the corner of her mouth. The blonde was attractive, but she wasn't really anything special. The cultist leant in, and spoke into the blonde's ear, and she got up, and sauntered towards the door.
Michelle had lost them in the alleys. She was trying to locate them both with her mind, but they were nowhere. It was as though they had both vanished.
She wasn't paying attention, and tripped over a bin. Cursing, she stood up to see that she had walked down a service lane for a restaurant. Great. A dead end.
Michelle turned around. But her senses were better than Marks were; she heard the footsteps behind her. She spun, and the woman was there, swinging a frying pan at her head, and then she saw nothing.
Thwak!!!
Owww, Michelle thought. That hurt.
She opened her eyes. She was in a similar chamber to the one Mark had in his basement, the one they used for interrogating cultists. Michelle came to certain conclusions at this point.
"You know the best thing about torturing a Grigori?" a male voice said, from the shadows in front of her. "Not only can I not really hurt you, but I can't even damage you; not at least by using conventional methods. I can hit you, and hurt you to my heart's content, and you won't be any different. I don't have to worry about holding back. It's fantastic." The voice was childlike in tone, but the depth of the voice was adult.
"I would ask you why you are searching for us, but that's not really the question, is it? You are Grigori; you are built to be good, but have sin embedded inside you. You, who abandoned heaven to walk the world, fucking mortals to retain the spark of the divine inside of you. But the question is, why are you trying to find us now? We have been here, in this world, for millennia; why are you only just interfering now?"
Michelle shook her head. "What the FUCK," she said, quite definitely," is a Grigori?"
She felt the movement behind her, and flinched away just as the club whistled over head.
"Don't play with me. I can, and I will hurt you. I want to."
He was a tiny, small man. She could see all of his ribs, as well as the bones in his shoulders. His face was animated, infused with mad passion. he was naked, and Michelle couldn't help but look down. He had easily the biggest cock she had ever encountered. It stood high against his stomach, looking faintly ridiculous given his height and width, but it throbbed with need. She shivered.
He cackled. "That's right, my dear. You know what I am, don't you? An actual, Iive and in the flesh- literally- incubus demon. Not like the fake your friend Mark is pretending to be."
He laughed again, but this time his laughter was genuine. He was watching Michelle's face.
"You really have no idea what you are, do you? That's funny. You have so much power, so much potential, but you are so very ignorant!"
"Incubi are not formed, are not flesh; they are summoned into a host from hell. I am possessing this meatsack for the express purpose of making your world the hell that you will never experience."
"Fun, fun, funn..." He murmered, his voice trailing away as he turned around.
