Welcome back everyone. Kinda just wanted to get this part out of my system as a kind of preview to what will come next. Feel free to leave comments and other feedback as, while I've been writing extensively for several years now, I'm still new to... well this side of writing.
Figured it couldn't hurt to broaden my horizons and skillset so to speak.
***
Vy. Pronounced like Vi. Or like the first part of the word violet. Her real name, Vyleth was something demonic, given to her in some long-forgotten era in some darker corner of Hell. On her official documents though, all expertly forged by the best in the business, her name read Violet Ashton. Of course, he needed a birth certificate and social security card for her if she were going to function on Earth. Though that had thankfully been a problem he'd worked to sort out before he even met her.
He still remembered the day they met. He'd still been a dumb kid, just some junior in high school with too very rich and often very absent parents with far too much time on his hands. John had always been smart. Too smart perhaps for his own good as his instructors often said. Early on, he'd taken an interest in math and science. He'd gotten good at them too. Too good.
But not good enough for his tastes.
Knowledge was power, and he didn't have enough for the task he'd set himself to.
So, he turned to other means.
It must have looked odd for a math and science prodigy to spend his summer in the city library, reading and researching every occult book he could find and even ordering some he couldn't. Between that, supplemented with heavy internet research, as well as an eidetic memory, by junior year, John had everything he needed to proceed.
The brand had hurt the most. Hopefully it would heal by the time his parents returned from whatever business/company/vacation trip they were on now. He doubted they would have cared either way if they could even be bothered to notice. Still, the less they were around the better, now especially.
The maids had left for the day and his mother's assistant wouldn't be back to check in on him until Monday nor would father's Chauffeur come to pick him up unless requested. Now he had all weekend to conduct his excursion.
Tonight, he would be going to Hell.
The garage was empty, both mother's and father's cars stored at the airport until they returned and his own car... well he didn't have one, yet. Still, the area provided a perfect place to work.
John glanced at the circle. Perfectly drawn with mathematical precision. All that was required was to light it. He grabbed his bag full of supplies and other equipment. A custom fabricated ring with a symbol like the one branded onto his neck, one of father's shotguns with some... misappropriated special shells, a map of hopefully where he would be appearing and his destination in mind.
He grabbed the torch he prepared and a lighter from his pocket, igniting the end of it. A burst of green fire extended up from the wood before settling on an unnatural green flame. Carefully, he waved his hand through it.
Nothing.
He held his finger in the fire for a few seconds.
Cool as the air in the room. He smiled. The brand was working. At least some of its effects were. As for the others... that would require a trip into Hell itself to find out.
He swapped hands and shoved his left fist and ring into the flame, holding it there for over a full minute. When he removed his hand, aside from the lack of burns, the only thing that had changed was the brand on the ring now glowed white hot.
He was ready.
After giving his bag one last tap for comfort, he picked up father's shotgun and tossed the torch onto the pentagram. Immediately a burst of light illuminated the room, forcing him to look away. The smell of sulfur and cinnamon filled the garage, accompanied by other unknown scents. When the light dimmed he glanced ahead of him.
A large spherical portal rested in the center of the pentagram. John studied it, moving around the circle to look at it. It appeared to defy all known laws of the universe, but he knew better. The environment on the other side changed as he moved around the edge of the tear. The image occasionally fluttered across it like light over the surface of a rippled ocean.
This wasn't a portal to Hell, (well it quite literally was), so much at it was a wormhole to another world. John smiled.
There would be time to study it later. For now, he had a mission to complete.
He inhaled and exhaled. His mind drifted to his afternoons and evenings spent studying pentagrams and alchemical circles on the school bleachers. The number of times the cheerleaders and their accompanying boyfriends who had called him names and thrown things at him became too numerous to count. The one's who'd told him to go to Hell were about to get their wish.
He took a step forward and disappeared through the portal.
***
John and Vy burst through his dorm room, quickly slamming the door behind them. Vy quickly raised a hand, an alchemical circle momentarily appearing on the dorsal side, sound proofing the room again as well as preventing any unwanted... vibrations from escaping. It was a simple trick of hers, one she'd used for him countless times before. As a succubus, being able to isolate a room came in handy when feeding, as she told him.
Fortunately for him, she wasn't here to completely drain his life force.
She practically slammed him against the wall, her lips immediately finding his, her tongue quickly forcing its way into his mouth. He welcomed her intrusion, playfully wrestling her invader with his own. The fight for dominance was merely for show on his part, as her tongue swirled around his, almost supernaturally grappling him into submission. He long ago accepted her role as the more dominant one.
Not that he minded.
His head began to cloud as her taste and scent flooded his senses like a torrential rain. This time, instead of resisting and repressing, he welcomed it, breathing in her scent and taking in her unique flavor. It was like someone drugged him, his vision momentarily tunneling before refocusing. She tasted as she smelled: sweet like vanilla and caramel with subtler floral notes with an added cinnamon inspired bite at the end of it. Like an expensive whisky, there was no other real way of putting her into words.
Her lips aggressively danced across his, the familiar smooching sounds filling the space as she gave an arousing moan into his mouth.
He could get drunk off this alone. Kissing her was already better than sex with most human girls. Normally, when she came onto him like this, he'd often had to push her away, to stop her, the edicts of his school schedule preventing them from going further, much to her (and his), dismay.
Today, however, was a Friday. And he had all weekend to work on his short homework assignments. His mind momentarily drifted to them before he shoved them away. They'd take at most an hour of his Saturday morning to complete. Tonight, and the rest of the weekend, was for her and her alone. She deserved it for her patience at the very least.
Eventually, he forced her lips from his, eliciting a groan of protest from the succubus. He flashed her a grin.
"Clothes?"
"Off. Now." She commanded, kicking off her shoes and tossing her jacket to the floor.
"Yes, mistress." John rolled his eyes.
He have been her master but here, he deferred to her expertise, which often meant her taking the role of the master.
He knelt and began untying his shoes before moving to unbutton his shirt. Vy released a frustrated growl before grabbing his shirt and tearing it open, sending the buttons flying. She quickly raised a finger, the tip of it extending into a demonically violet claw, before slicing through his undershirt with lighting speed and precision, somehow only tearing the fabric.
"Hey!" He said startled.
"We'll grab replacements tomorrow." She breathed, tearing the tatters of his clothes off his body before shoving him onto their shared bed.
He landed with considerable force, her demonic strength slightly showing through. Shirtless, he felt he looked unimpressive, even with some of Hell's gifts he'd appropriated. Still, Vy found something attractive about his body, considering the toned look of it a lot more attractive than the over muscled Arnold Schwarzeneggeresque body builders he figured she'd be interested in.
