Although relatively weak compared against other demons, succubi are, perhaps, humanity's most natural enemies. The weapons they wield, our Achilles' Heel. Unable to penetrate the mind's defenses through sheer force, they take more subtle paths to domination. Taking advantage of our hedonistic impulses, they seduce, coax, and distract until a chink forms in the armor of our minds. Thusly, are they able to invade.
Know this, noble reader. Once your mind is touched by a succubus' corruption, you are tainted. Ensuing attacks upon you become easier. Eventually, your mind will betray you, welcoming in your attacker and eagerly drinking in her poison. If you escape before it is too late, the corruption may fade with time, but prolonged exposure becomes permanent. In my years I have witnessed many brave souls reduced to whimpering slaves. Brought low by a single moment of weakness. Remain vigilant. Your will must be steadfast.
-Sir Arthur Thompson, The Demonic Archive
It was 2 AM before Gwen was able to sleep. A thrilling energy from the earlier... events, had clung to her and kept her awake. She didn't mind. It finally gave her a chance to catch up on the assignments she'd been too worried (or too horny) to do. She lost herself in the work. Finally filled out the chem lab summary she'd been toting to and from campus for a week. Wrapped up a project for Algorithms, and slogged through Calculus homework. Fuck calculus. But once finished, there was nothing left to take her mind off what she'd done to Amy. She lay in her bed and replayed the events in her head. She'd attacked her best friend with all the care of a predator chasing prey. Maybe that wasn't far off.
Once she had tasted Amy, what little of her control there was had gone out the window. Even now that sweet scent called to her from the next room. Gwen reset her hand on the wall and pictured Amy, sleeping on the other side. It wasn't really a scent though, or a taste, or a flavor. It was something else. Some quality that Amy possessed that she'd been unable to sense before now. But it was something Gwen could consume.
Had
consumed, she reminded herself. And whatever it was, it was delicious. Energy, she supposed. That was in line with the myths. She hoped that was it. Energy would return, but what if she'd taken something more precious? What if she'd done something permanent? Gwen would never forgive herself. Or perhaps she would.
It hadn't escaped her that after the incident she hadn't felt particularly bad about her actions. A little, sure, but it was peripheral. Something she'd noted and quickly dismissed while focused on the lingering satisfaction of feeding, and the frustration that she'd been forced to stop. The demonic side of her wasn't concerned with pesky human morality it would seem. Now though, she felt more like herself, more Gwen. Maybe if she stayed satiated her condition would be easier to manage. Gwen would be in control, rather than the sex-hungry demon within.
The undercurrent of arousal was still there, lurking beneath every thought, but it was easy to ignore. She could think clearly. She needed to find a way to feed regularly. Probably not difficult for a girl on a college campus. Tomorrow she would apologize. If Amy could forgive her everything would be okay. If not... Gwen closed her eyes and did her best not to think about it. After a while Sleep came, and with it the dream again.
Gwen floated. Surrounded by an inky darkness. Tiny swirls and ripples of distortion moved through it like water in oil. Gwen was aware, but not fully lucid. Her mind was foggy. Forming coherent thoughts took effort. The dream was familiar now. Each night she returned here. The first few times she'd barely remembered. She'd just floated drifting in and out of awareness. Now she could move. She raised a hand in front of her to examine it, the motion stirred the darkness. It resisted her movements, It was like moving through water. No, something thicker. Molasses? A bit cliche. Gwen realized she'd never actually seen molasses. She shook her head, sending out more ripples, and focused on her hand. Maintaining a train of thought here was difficult. Despite the darkness she could make out the shape of her arm, but it was blurry. It rippled like the darkness, struggling to maintain its form. Red light flickered across its outline.
Far In the distance, in the direction she thought of as up, was the ominous red light. It was always here. A menacing red sun, throwing off trails that looked like vapor and seemed to drift down as they dissipated. Dark lines crisscrossed its surface unevenly, breaking the shape up into wedges and chunks. Gwen thought they might be chains. It simultaneously called to her, and caused her to want to get as far away as possible. When she looked at it for too long, incomprehensible whispers filled her mind. She turned away. If she ignored it, the effects were barely noticeable.
Gwen turned in a circle, surveying her surroundings. As she did, lights danced on the periphery of her vision. That was new. Gwen concentrated, pushing her awareness out. Cutting through the ink. A million glowing pinpricks of light bloomed around her. They came in every shade imaginable. Some were bright, others dim. Some beamed uninterrupted, others flickered like candles. No two were the same. A few were large enough, or close enough perhaps, for Gwen to see that they were orbs. Others seemed so far that she could never reach them.
A large blue orb caught her eye and she came to an abrupt halt. A dim beam of light trailed from it towards her. The light drifted lazily like a string blown about by the wind. What was it? She swam towards the orb. Forcing her way through the darkness. It was difficult to judge distance here, but the orb couldn't have been more than a dozen feet away. Still, by the time she reached it she was exhausted. As Gwen got close she began to feel odd sensations radiating off it. They were fleeting, and faded before she could process them. The simple act of moving had drained her and her vision swung in and out of focus. She felt the waking world pulling her back. She resisted. Instead she placed a hand on the orb.
The sensations came into focus. They were emotions. Anger. Fear. Sadness. Concern. The surface of the orb was warm. It had some give, tensing as she pressed, and reforming when she let up. Her body ached. She brought her other hand around, hugging the orb. She savored the warmth, and let her body drift with the flow of the darkness.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
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For the first time since they moved in together, Gwen was up before Amy. After a night of tossing and turning she'd awoken to find that the horns had torn several holes in her pillow, and left her with a crick in her neck. The rush of energy from the night before was nowhere to be found, and the hum of arousal was growing again. Still, it wasn't enough to be a problem. By her best guess it would be 3 or 4 more days before it reached the levels of the previous day. After taking her measurements (the horns were a quarter inch longer), she'd prepared coffee, more for Amy's sake than her own, but was surprised to find it had some flavor to it. Still a bit dull, but it tasted like coffee. Now she sat on the sofa, absently tapping her foot and waiting for Amy to wake up. Why did it have to be Friday?
At the start of the semester she'd made the somewhat questionable decision to cram as many classes as possible into her Monday, Wednesday, Friday block. She'd figured if she bit the bullet for three days, it would leave her with four free-ish days each week. In the end she still had two classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but she enjoyed both of them. The plan mostly worked, but it made days like today hell. A slog of back to back classes for hours, followed by club activities. It was already eight, and she needed to be on campus in thirty minutes for calc. She considered waking Amy herself, but worried it would come across as too aggressive. She needed to be meek. Unthreatening. To make it clear she was in control.
Gwen was about to give up and try again after class when Amy shambled into the room and froze at the sight of her. Gwen was leaning forward, about to stand. She relaxed and sank back onto the sofa. Amy was a mess. Her usually immaculate hair was a frizzy tangle. There were faint bags under her eyes, and she hadn't bothered with makeup. Her glasses sat slightly crooked. She was still beautiful. Gwen realized they were playing out the scene from the previous morning, roles reversed.
"I made coffee."
Amy shrank a bit, and she tensed as she walked past Gwen to the kitchen. Gwen put an arm behind the sofa and twisted to watch her. She wore a white blouse, and pleated brown pants, tight at the waist but loose enough through the leg that they looked like a skirt at first glance. Gwen watched it sway, brushing up against her and revealing the contours of her hips and legs for a precious moment with each step. Mind out of the gutter Gwen.
"Listen, about last night..."
Gwen trailed off unsure what to say. Amy didn't respond. She filled a thermos with coffee, and withdrew a neatly packed container from the fridge. She gathered her purse, her backpack, and snatched her keys from the rack next to the door. All in silence. The tension in the room was so thick it felt difficult to move. Gwen was reminded of the dream. Amy began unlocking the door.
"Amy, wait! I'm sorry."
Amy paused. Gwen continued.
"I lost control. I hope you know that I would never hurt you."
"You already did."
Ouch. That hurt, but Amy was right. Desperation crept into Gwen's voice as a night's worth of planning spewed out in a confused plea.
"I-I know. But I think I can control it now. I won't ever ever touch you again." The words triggered a pang of sadness, but she meant them. Anything to save her friendship. "I can find someone else. I won't hurt them either, but I need to find someone. And when I do I'll be more careful. I can...feed more often and keep this under control. We can research together. Solve the problem. Please. You're my best friend. I love you... I need you."
Gwen's heart beat like a drum as she waited for an answer. She gripped the fabric of her jeans. She realized she was holding her breath and let it go. Amy sighed and relaxed her posture.
