A Demon's Regret
I was just starting to get hungry again, but I had honestly grown weary of the repetition of late. Maybe ‘weary’ wasn’t the right word… Bored was more like it.
I was a special guy, there aren’t very many of my kind, created by the big man himself. I got constant praise as being the very best, without question, of the few of us there were. I wasn’t a simple incubus. Not to insult their trade, but that was child’s play. I fed on something sweeter.
There are women on Earth who have unfulfilled desires, lots and lots of them, of course. Some of them because they are broken-hearted, in shitty relationships, poor self-esteem, ugly, bad childhood, abused, it really didn’t matter to me. But there are some women who have such a profound craving for a partner, to be fulfilled sexually and romantically, it completely transcended the yearnings of your average lonely female. How they were able to function in day-to-day life and disguise the overwhelming power of that longing, I didn’t know.
But understanding that part of the women I dealt with wasn’t part of the job description. I just picked out the ones I liked for some reason, found appealing enough to toy with. I only liked pretty women, maybe that was a character flaw, but I didn’t care, I could afford to be picky. I offered them a deal, and they always accepted.
The boss man put me together well, the ladies liked me pretty universally. They always liked my blue eyes and my cheekbones. If I gazed at them without blinking, so long as I looked sympathetic, they found my stares ‘soulful.’ It was effective.
I offered them a romantic dalliance with me, a demon. I would woo them, please them, and sweep them off their feet. But I told them that, at some point, I would leave, and they would never see me again. After that, no partner would be able to satisfy them again. Not sexually, not emotionally, not mentally, not in any regard- zippo. Unfortunately for them, it was completely true. And, as I mentioned, despite being very forward about the terms, they all signed on the dotted line.
Only a very few ladies had ever asked me if their immortal soul would be forfeit as well. I told them the truth- I had no idea. They had all, predictably, taken me up on the offer anyways. I supposed it really would behoove me to ask about that and clarify the point, one of these days.
While I did, technically, feed on the endorphins the women released during our encounter, that really didn’t compare to the sustenance I got from their abject misery afterwards. While I didn’t take pleasure in watching them spiral into alcoholism, drug abuse, depression, social isolation, self-harm, suicide, or (occasionally) conversion to born-again Christianity or the joining of convents, it filled my belly and I slept like a stone. Women who completely lost their minds and turned to depravity always made the big man happy, too, of course.
But, as I mentioned, I was currently faced with a problem. While I had a glut of ladies strung across the globe, following our assorted encounters, they were quite stable in their suffering. Most were either in convents or currently heavily medicated, and not terribly filling. Frankly, that just wouldn’t do, I had a massive appetite.
My last few flirtations I had barely been able to tolerate a few days before running off. The women had been nice enough to look at, but bland and uninteresting. Their company had grown dull and tedious quickly, and I was sick of the repetitious monotony! I wanted something invigorating, stimulating, or different in some fashion. I felt so jaded.
My stomach pained me, and I decided that I couldn’t put it off any longer. I rose and went to peruse what was available on my map. I flipped the switch on the table, and immediately got a huge surprise!
The largest spike I had ever seen was coming from America! It leapt right off the map, burning for my attention, pulsing vibrantly. From Ohio, eh? Cincinnati, Ohio? Who the fuck lives in Ohio? No wonder you were lonely, my dear! Curious, I brought up the information for the source.
Hmmm… Late-twenties, chronically broken-hearted woman, employed, lived alone, professional. Why had she not stuck out to me before? I delved further. Ah! She was 29, her birthday was soon, her sister had just gotten married, and she had been the maid of honor! I see!
Well, with a desire that powerful, (Y/N) could surely feed me for months! I actually found myself crossing my claws as I brought up her image.
Wow! How bizarre! She was lovely, though she radiated insecurity like a nuclear blast. I found myself licking my lips as I eyed her pert breasts under her clothes, her demure, (Y/E/C) eyes under her thick lashes. I had definitely found what I had been looking for. My stomach rumbled.
What time was it? Hmm… I had three hours until (Y/N) would likely be tucking herself into bed, the customary time for demons to visit. I felt unusually excited, and decided to put just a smidgeon of effort into my appearance. Nothing too crazy; the result was always the same anyway, but it wouldn’t hurt to take a shower regardless.
I just started writing this recently, who could say how long it will be? Just a little sample to see how you like it.