Once again, I am delighted to host, on my blog, my friend circe. Please read her story entitled, 'Succubus'.
Succubus.
Sleek and agile, golden eyes, black velvet coat. There was a cat walking the porch rail as I got home. Leaping down effortlessly, It entwined itself around my legs as I stood in front of the door. I reached down to pat its head. It avoided my touch. I keyed the lock, and swung the door open. The cat purred loudly, and I said ‘come on in then.’ It darted inside and promptly found a spot on Chloe’s padded rocker to curl up on. I went about getting my evening meal, and set a saucer of milk out for the cat, assuming it would be hungry. I poured myself a tumbler of cognac, and prepared to shoo the cat out of my chair. It wasn’t there. ‘Here kitty, kitty.’ No cat. I sat down in my overstuffed chair, facing Chloe’s, and enjoyed my quiet living room. There was a stack of records on the turntable, ‘falling leaves’ was playing, I drifted off comfortably, warmed by the expensive brandy, and the comfort of my empty home.
Later I awoke, a little stiff from sitting. Bed was calling. I made the rounds, checking doors, turning off lights. Keeping an eye out for the cat. Wonder where it came from? And where it had got to?
My bedroom was suitably cool, as I like it. Good for sleeping. I tossed my clothes over a chair, and slipped between the cool sheets. Ahhh, I didn’t realize how tired I was. Lights off, and to sleep.
Sometime in the night I had a dream. I was seduced, my body responded. It was delightful,at first. Then there was a weight on my chest, something over my face, sucking the air from my lungs. Thrashing my arms and legs out violently did nothing to dislodge the creature, whatever it was. I blacked out to unconsciousness.
The next day, I awoke to bright sunlight. My chest and arms and legs were covered with scratches, there was blood all over my sheets and pillowcases. Damn cat! Where are you?
Kitty, kitty! I showered and dressed, determined to find and toss out the cat. It was nowhere to be found. I called in sick, and did a few chores I had been meaning to get to. Several times during the afternoon, I made searches for the cat.
It must have slipped out one of the times I opened the door.
Dinner this night was just me, again.
My wife had left me months before, due to my dalliances with other women. I had left her alone at night often. She seemed to close in on herself, became increasingly withdrawn, and one day she was gone. In the note she left, she said it would only be right that I suffer as much as I had made her suffer. I hadn’t heard from her since. I missed her, I was truly sorry, but I had nowhere to express that. I kept the house, and hoped she would come home.
Another quiet evening, I watched a little T.V. and gave it up as a lost cause. There were the same detectives, making incredible deductions, cooly solving horrific crimes. I didn’t feel like going out. Funny, I wasn’t running around any more.
I locked up, turned out lights, and trudged upstairs in the lonely house.
It was cold in the bedroom, I shivered undressing, and climbing into the big bed. Sleep didn’t come right away, My mind drifted to thoughts of Chloe. Her spark when we were first married, the fun she had brought to my life. Ahhh, what stupidity made me kill that spark? She just dragged around the house toward the last. I did that to her. My conscience burned.
Again, this night I was caressed by a woman in the dark. My body betrayed me again. It was every man’s dream, then a nightmare. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. My body was ravaged by something clawed and ravenous. I couldn’t scream, I was manipulated like the plaything of an enormous beast. I was afraid to see, I will not look. I know it is hideous.
My eyes were swollen nearly shut when I grew conscious of day. I crawled out of bed and to the shower. I was bitten and clawed all over my body. Bruised, fatigued. I went to call someone to come take me to the hospital. The phone didn’t work. I was very weak, The stairs were negotiated by sitting and scooting down each step. When I staggered to the door, it wouldn’t work. I couldn’t open it. I lay on the couch, and drifted to sleep, tears streaming down my face.
The Succubus came for me again. I understand, It will kill me. Coldly, with much humiliation. It is draining my strength, using me. It will discard me. I created the situation. The unhappiness in this house. The demon knew my weakness, I invited it in. I am the whore demon’s plaything. My body used for sport. The irony is not lost on me.
Die! I tell myself, die! I wish I could. It is not my will, but hers . And, like a cat, she is toying with me.
Please read my Hallowe'en story called, 'Sophia', on circe's blog here.
|
|
| Views: 69
Email This to a Friend 
