The Hunter and the Succubus

Something less raunchy and more romance based. Hope you like it!

The Hunter and the Succubus

Damon winced as he slammed down his shot of scotch, feeling the burn of the beverage embrace his esophagus as it slithered to a stop in his stomach. It was a phenomenon that he hadn’t experienced in awhile, due to his last engagement with said beverage ending in a terrible hangover that lasted three days, making his job all the harder. Lucky for him, it was only his first shot, seeing he wasn’t at this bar to get drunk and potentially end up in a bed with zero memory of the previous night the following day. He was here on business.

Damon wasn’t your casual demon that possessed the ability to naturally lure any woman into bed with him, as much as having the looks and body that every man wished to have. He was a special subject that hunted down things that no human could possibly catch; a bounty hunter of rogue demons, vampires, and many other mythological creatures that humans were oblivious to knowing lurked among them. A job he had given himself when he was cursed with immortality by a vampire he’d slept with unknowingly.

Less to say, the witty harlot who had marked him eternally hadn’t lived much longer after the fact, being killed with a satisfying strike through her cold heart.

While it was his own fault that he ended up cursed, he had devoted his eternal life to hunting down these monsters and sending them back to Hell. And he had followed through, which was how he had ended up in this bar. He’d been told of this unique inquiry through very specific means, and was told that this special source of information came here every Saturday night and picked up drunks.

He gulped down another shot of scotch, peeking up at the clock, reading 1 AM. He was starting to wonder if he’d been fed lies, up until a voice caught his attention.

“So, I hear you wanna talk?”

The voice was one of elegance. It was soft and had a sense of seduction to it, and to Damon’s surprise, it had affected him a little bit.

“Way to make an entrance, Driscella,” Damon addressed.

Driscella fancied his remark with a pleasant seating on the leather stool next to Damon’s own.

“So, what has brought you to my little corner of the city? Can’t be for the obvious reason men and women normally seek me out. Not to mention, your job is to solely rid the world of beings such as me, so why the sudden change of heart?”

Damon was surprised by Driscella’s approach. He had expected her to be more aggressive in her tactics, given her nature as a succubus.

He turned to look at her, only to meet a sight that he nearly lost all sense at.

She had beautiful long black hair, sapphire-blue eyes that glistened in the low light of the bar, and flawless mildly-tanned skin. Her body had curves that Damon’s eyes bulged at, and she wore attire that intentionally was meant to attract mortals without trouble.

It was what he’d been expecting, but fantasy and reality were two different perspectives, and seeing her in reality made him doubt he could’ve ever been prepared for Driscella’s introduction.

“Always with fucking succubi…

Shaking himself back to reality, he finally addressed his business.

“I’m not interested in killing you,” Damon stated forwardly, causing Driscella’s eyebrows to raise in surprise. “You’ve never killed any of your victims or fucked up their lives; I only hunt succubi that only intend harm to humans, not every single one.”

“And how do you know that’s not me, sweety?” she asked with a playful giggle.

“You wouldn’t have approached like you did,” Damon answered. “Succubi mainly prefer to keep their identity hidden in places with heavy crowds, and normally use their abilities to seduce the mind and senses to lead and control the target, until they have their prey somewhere more private.”

Driscella only smiled in her chair, sitting up and eyeing Damon with an impressed look.

“Impressive,” she commented. “I already like you more than any of my previous victims of lustful desire. You actually interest me enough to give a shit on what you have to say, so please entertain me more.”

Damon expressed his own smile of satisfaction, then he continued to please Driscella’s ears with her form of “interest ”

“Word in the darkest shadows of this town says that you used to be an employee of a secret business named “Hell’s Pub;” a hidden place in this city that’s about the equivalent of a whorehouse, but instead of whores, you have deadly and agile beauties. I simply need to know how you managed to escape one of Satan’s personal Hell’s on Earth.”

Driscella signalled the bartender for a drink, and as expected, and no surprise to Damon, she was poured and gifted a single shot of some godawful concoction that singed Damon’s nostrils upon one whiff. All free of charge.

“Typical for a succubus.”

Driscella downed the mysterious alcohol with a single gulp, smacking the shot glass back down on the counter; the apparent signal for a second shot, given how the bartender reacted to it. Damon couldn’t tell if the bartender was bewitched or just kissing Driscella’s ass, and he frankly didn’t care. He just allowed Driscella her drink then attempted to continue.

He stopped short upon Driscella’s next action though, settling a cigarette between her lips and lighting it with a single flicker of her lighter. He couldn’t help but glance at the nearby NO SMOKING signs as he found his words again.

“You realize you can’t smoke in here, right?” he questioned with sincerity.

Driscella only grinned.

“Awww, you’re so cute when you’re foolish,” she mocked with a short giggle. “Honey, I’ve got this place wrapped around my finger. I can do pretty much anything in this place.”

Flicking a string of ash into a makeshift ashtray, Driscella rested the cigarette back in-between her lips coated in a black lipstick, a little residue staining the butt of it.

“So, back to what you came to my side of town for,” she addressed, taking a drag and gripping the cigarette with her fingers, allowing the fumes to flow to the ceiling. “You really are a special subject. Most come to me for what you’d expect, but here you are coming to me about things that may or may not be true.”

Damon didn’t give her any sort of reply and only held a stern gaze, to which Driscella only purred curiously at.

“I might be up for telling you what you want, but only if you give me something in return.”

Her tone had shifted drastically, and Damon had a feeling this would happen, so he just answered in his best way.

“Let me guess, your usual work?” he addressed almost instantly.

“Depends if you’re worth the trouble,” she playfully clarified. “I’ve still got a job to do, and I’m quite picky with my preference of victims.”

Driscella moved her eyes from the countertop to Damon’s groin, noticing a very evident bulge that made her lick her lips in anticipation.

“And you just might fit that criteria,” she complimented seductively. “You’ve definitely gotten around.”

Then something happened that Damon hadn’t been expecting; he suddenly felt a strong but soothing grip on his groin, and while he wanted to object, Driscella was only getting started.

“Ah yes… I see a prostitute… some drunk mortal on a one night stand…oh, but what’s this? A vampire mistress? My oh my, you have seen and experienced quite a variety, but there’s something special about the mistress…

Damon fought back, managing to snap out of whatever daze Driscella had trapped him in.

“That’s far enough,” he commanded, coming back to reality.

Driscella pouted in the midst of her interrupted sexual fantasies, giving Damon an expression that mimicked a child begging for something.

“You’re no fun,” she pouted. “I was almost to the good parts of your engagement with that mistress too.”

Damon only frowned and eyed Driscella with annoyance. She was like a child in a way; playful, cynical, tricky; but when she shifted on the stool, the reality of her true identity became evident, along with the fact that she was far from a child.

“That’s none of your business, now cut to the chase,” Damon commanded. “Otherwise, I’ll be taking my leave.”

“Fine, fine. We’ll do it your way,” she somewhat-agreed, taking another puff of her cigarette. “However, before I even tell you anything, let me ask, what do you plan to do with this information?”

“It’s for myself,” Damon answered. “I seek to rid myself of what that mistress did to me.”

Driscella nodded.

“Ah, you want free of the curse you’ve been bestowed,” she stated. “How does me escaping one of Hell’s personal businesses have to do with breaking a curse?”

“One born of Satan’s creation doesn’t escape Satan’s grasp so easily,” Damon started. “If it’s true that all things created not in God’s image are of the Devil’s creation and Will, then with the curse being a part of me, I am partly a creature of the Devil’s creation. Which means if I can find a way to escape Satan’s grasp, I can be free of immortality and hunting the Otherworldly for eternity once again.”

Driscella tapped her chin with the tip of her right index finger in thought. Was Damon onto something or completely and utterly holding onto false hope of living a normal life? Taking the cigarette from her lips, Driscella answered him.

“While you are correct in a sense, halfbreeds are a more tricky case,” Driscella informed. “You were born as one of God’s creations and given the curse by a creature of Satan. You may be right, and also dead wrong. My assumption, given what I know, is if you tried to rid yourself of the curse through the same method I did, you’d most likely die in the end.”

Damon didn’t even flinch upon that comment like Driscella had expected him to. He just remained as still as a stone statue untainted by nature.

“So be it,” he solidified. “I’d rather die than live with this for the rest of my life.”

Driscella expressed a grin, strangely feeling turned on by Damon’s ambition. She licked her lips and finally responded, smothering her cigarette in the ashtray.

“Dying rather than living under Satan’s belt. That’s hot,” she complimented seductively.

“So, how do I break Satan’s grasp?”

“Hmm,” she started, looking around the bar as if she were looking for someone in particular. When she came back to Damon’s gaze, she finally gave him an answer. “Not here. It’s too risky to speak such valuable information in the open, under my spell or not. There’s private rooms upstairs. Let’s continue there.”

Damon immediately raised red flags; a bedroom and a sexually happy succubus didn’t mix well.

“Is this just a trap to get me to unconsciously have sex with you?” Damon accused.

“Now Damon,” she pouted, seeming offended, “what do you take me for? I’m just doing business with you like a good demon.”

Damon didn’t seem phased or any closer to buying Driscella’s seemingly-innocent demeanor. Driscella grunted and got up from her seat.

“You want your answers, either come with me or go back to wherever you are residing wondering who else has answers to your predicament.”

Her voice had shifted to a more serious tone, and she hadn’t lied, starting to walk towards the back door of the bar. Damon let out a long sigh of defeat, knowing he would never get another opportunity like this. Sucking up his pride, he stood from his stool, turned in the direction of Driscella, and followed her into the back of the bar.

The door had opened to a short hall where, to the left, a stairwell appeared, going only further up into the building. Driscella led him up the stairs to the third floor where a single hall with doors on both sides appeared, leading him down the hall to a door with the number 6 on it.

“Cute. She chooses the room with the number in reference to her creator.”

“Indeed,” she surprisingly answered.

“H-how did y-

“Telepathy. All succubi have it, sweetheart.”

“Oh. I’ll have to be more alert of that in the future.”

Driscella unlocked and opened the door to a wide room composed of only a bed large enough for two people. The only light was a single lightbulb dangling from the ceiling by a worn cord, to which Driscella flicked on and illuminated the room with the warmth of the faint light.

“Comfy,” Damon joked.

Driscella took a seat on the edge of the bed, grabbing another cigarette from her purse and lighting it.

“These rooms are used for drunks who can’t drive home,” she informed. “That and other things as well.”

“Handy,” Damon simply answered. “Back to business.”

Driscella exhaled her current drag’s fumes to the ceiling then turned to Damon with a frown.

“Alright, I get it,” Driscella stated, cupping her tobacco stick gently between her fingers. “To start, I decided to break from my creator because I was tired of being a slave. I was out one night doing my job as usual, and that night in particular was one of my hottest. I’d dressed like the biggest slut you could imagine, and every mortal was all over me. I didn’t play by daddy’s rules; I was out to get fucked until I said I was finished, and if you even know me, you know I don’t finish fast.

I had taken the entirety of a strip club, men and women alike, any prostitute that was out that night, some random college students at a frat party, disguised as exactly what you’d expect, and even ended up seducing another strip club as the hottest piece of ass on the stage, making bank in the process.

Of course, I have no reason to keep mortal money, so I used it to buy me some more attire; daddy’s taste in lingerie is so bad, so I had to spice myself up on my own.

My style won me hundreds that night, and all I remember about it in a positive light is my body getting dominated over and over again and the variety of scents from every mortal I pleased. By the time I’d finished, it was the afternoon of the next day and my hips were sore as hell, but my nature as a succubus didn’t allow me to see the pain; only the desire for more.

A desire I felt wasn’t being met under daddy’s control, so I decided to take fate into my own hands. I decided to do some investigating, first trying a library, and ended up finding nothing but literature containing lies. I didn’t give up though, knowing there had to be more forbidden scriptures, so I decided to get the answers the way I was best at.

That librarian was so nice! He even led me right to the catacombs!

Anyway, I discovered scriptures that dated back to the days of Christ and found a somewhat-autobiography to do with four seals, each created by Satan to assure dominance over all that he created.

I won’t bother with the other three; the most important to me was the seal that assured control and dominance over demons; the Daemonium Seal. To keep it brief, daddy bestowed himself with the power to mark any demon he created with the seal by sacrificing a demon to a ritual that requires a source of pure evil, sin, and chaos to successfully perform.

He succeeded, therefore, gaining the power of control over all demons he birthed from the fires of Hell. However, I saw a way to potentially reverse the seal, and I was in a great position to accomplish it.

All I needed was a sacrifice.

With the knowledge gained, I returned to Hell’s Pub and prepared my plan to free myself from daddy’s binds. I set up the ritual easily, and with just a twirl of my finger, had a sacrifice; an employee who had the hots for me. I lured her somewhere outside the city, and once I had her seduced and weak enough, made her take a small nap.

She was fun to play and fuck with, but I had a goal, so I placed her in the ritual pentagram I’d drawn out, and just as she opened her eyes, slit her throat. Upon her blood meeting the diagram, she burst into flames and my binds were released as her body slowly became a charred corpse. Her screams as she burned to death were cute and arousing; I kinda felt bad I’d wasted such a treasure, but a new treasure replaced that; freedom from daddy.

I hung low for a few years in another country, sleeping around free as a bird, and waiting for Hell’s Pub and daddy to find a new ace succubus. I returned and have stayed in the shadows ever since, living my life as I see fit and exciting.”

Driscella finished with another drag and release of smoke to the ceiling, turning her head back to Damon. He wore a face of slight horror, but seemed tame for the most part. While Driscella’s story had been very macabre in nature, he had expected the explanation of being able to escape the very being of all evil and chaos to be very graphic and dark.

Murder and sacrifice were a casual thing he faced in his life, so while he had been unnerved by the tale just a little, he was still able to keep his usual demeanor.

Driscella chuckled at his expression.

“What? Did you expect it to be all gumdrops and rainbows, big boy?” she teased, holding a devious smile.

“Not at all,” he confirmed. “Some things just caught me off guard.”

Taking a quick drag, Driscella only held her smile, musing at Damon’s answer like a curious child.

“Well, now that you know my wonderful tale of how I went from a binded slut to a free slut by murdering one of my own, what are you going to do?” she wondered, holding her usual seductive tone.

Damon paused briefly, thinking about what his next step was after this. He didn’t want to share any information with Driscella if he could help it, so he decided to just figure things out when he was safely out of Driscella’s sight.

“What I need to do and kill anyone who gets in my way,” he confirmed, turning back to the door. “It’s been fun, but our business is done, so I’ll be taking my leave.”

“Hmm, “fun” might be an understatement for how I think our business went, but compared to other men I’ve dealt with, your company was at least worthwhile,” Driscella complimented. “However, before you go chasing down those scrolls, you’ll need this.”

The sound of unfolding paper suddenly met Damon’s ears, and he was hesitant to turn around, knowing just how witty succubi were. He decided to go along with her words, but didn’t make eye contact.

“What is it?” he asked.

“A map of the tunnels you’ll need to navigate to find those scrolls,” she assured. “I’d recommend taking it, unless you’d rather die down there.”

Damon still didn’t trust her, keeping his back turned and even closing his eyes.

“Just hand them to me,” he offered, opening one of his hands as a signal for Driscella to follow.

Driscella frowned at his actions, folding her arms in the way an upset child would.

“Damon, are you trying to avoid making eye contact with me?!” she pouted. “I am so disappointed in you, after all I’ve told you and haven’t even attempted to touch or manipulate your mind!”

Her tone wasn’t angry or upset, only playful and mildly-offended. He couldn’t depict whether or not she was actually being serious, and it slightly frightened him that she was that good at tricking him. While she sounded playful, she had made a solid point; she hadn’t tried any tricks, aside from downstairs, the entire time they were alone in that room.

It made Damon feel slightly guilty, especially after she just practically spilled a good percentage of her life’s story as a succubus, and while it wasn’t the most thrilling tale he’d heard, she had given him information as promised.

“Goddamn succubus.”

“Excuse me!?”

“Ah shit! Sorry!”

Driscella only grunted, cigarette smoke mimicking steam as it escaped her nostrils.

He surrendered and turned back to her, expecting to see her fully nude, but upon opening his eyes, he was met with a succubus disguised as a woman in lingerie, holding out a folded piece of paper, her face expressing annoyance.

Now he really felt guilty, taking the paper gently and sticking it in his pocket.

“Uh, sorry,” he sheepishly apologized.

Driscella’s frown quickly shifted to a smile upon the apology.

“You’re cute,” she replied sweetly, “Perhaps there is hope for us to do business together more often.”

She took the last remaining drag of her cigarette, then smothered it out in a spare burn spot on the floor, following with a stomp of her right foot.

“It’s best you go. I’ve got to get to work,” she stated in an actual serious tone.

Damon nodded and turned to leave, stating one final thing before leaving.

“Thanks for the help.”

With that, the door shut and Driscella was left to carry out her business.

“He… actually thanked me,” she said slowly.

The next day, Damon travelled straight to the local library with the map folded up neatly in his pocket. Upon entering the establishment, Damon was greeted with the scent of aged literature and the sound of pencils gliding against the surface of paper; most likely studying students of the local college.

He was dressed in casual everyday clothing with a faint five o’clock shadow adorning his face, not wanting to come across as a shady stranger. Luckily, no attention was given, and Damon found his way to the front desk without trouble, meeting a middle-aged man at his stop.

He just dressed his face with a fake smile as the aged librarian that smelled like mildew addressed him directly.

“Welcome to the New York Public Library. My name is Samuel. How may I be of assistance to you today?” he asked.

“I was hoping you could help me find something, sir,” Damon partially lied. “I’m studying Latin and need a specific volume for my studies, but I can’t seem to find it anywhere else in the city’s other libraries.”

Samuel smiled as a response.

“It must be a special volume collection if you are struggling this hard to find it,” Samuel assured, proceeding to his keyboard and browsing his computer.

After a few seconds, he turned back to Damon.

“Lucky for you, we have a bright collection of Latin-based literature,” he confirmed. “If you wish, I can guide you to the section where the collections are located.”

Damon smiled.

“That would be great.”

“Alright,” Samuel finished, making his way out from behind the desk and to Damon’s side. “Please follow me, and make sure to keep your voice low out of respect for the occupants of the library.”

Damon nodded as response, resulting in Samuel smiling and proceeding further into the library to wherever the Latin volumes were located.

It had seemed to become quiet and alien the deeper they went into the depths of the building, making Damon smile wider at the realization that his mission was going to be even more simple than he’d thought.

No witnesses meant no trouble. Not that he cared either way; he was a professional bounty hunter and could escape unscathed and unseen without breaking even a sweat.

The trek ended at the end of the inside gap between two bookshelves, endless rows of maroon spines of long novels all stacked and organized evenly upon the wooden shelves. Damon could say he was impressed at the display, but in all reality, he could’ve cared less about it; his real target was less than an inch from him.

“Is the volume you need in any of these collections?” Samuel questioned.

Damon decided to humor him a little before knocking him out cold.

“Sorry sir, but it isn’t,” he replied. “The literature I seek is much more rare and priceless.”

A hard crack and thump met the end of those words, Samuel falling to the ground like a stone. Damon felt a small pinch of regret in his heart, feeling bad for having to knock out a creature that had no malicious intentions in any manner, but if he wanted his life back, he had to do whatever it took to get it.

Stealthily, he led the unconscious husk out the back exit of the building where he had parked his car out of sight of any passing pedestrians on the streets on the opposite side. He tied Samuel’s legs and hands together and covered his mouth with duct tape, leading the body into the trunk and shutting it tight.

Locking it, he made his way into the car and took his leave from the city to an outer part of the city that used to house settlers, but was a perfect hiding area and hotspot for druglords and Satanic rituals anymore. Fitting enough for what he had to do to get his life as a mortal back, at least according to what Driscella had said.

The road to the area was tedious and rugged, unkempt terrain making it all the more difficult to navigate. Some bumps were so bad that Damon feared it may have given his attendant in the trunk a nasty concussion, so he was careful to drive slowly, up until he came to somewhere he deemed secure and hidden enough to work for the next step in getting to the catacombs.

It was a dilapidated house composed of bricks, but the years of no maintenance and forces of nature taking their course had done quite a number on the structure. The windows were shattered, the house had gaping holes in its walls, the roof was completely rotted, and upon one gaze at the inside of it, the floors were stained and rotten, but not to the point of where they couldn’t take pressure without breaking.

Samuel was still out when he opened the trunk, which was a relief to Damon. He wouldn’t have to struggle getting Samuel restrained further into the closing day. Perfect.

He lifted the body from the trunk and carried it into the house, setting Samuel lightly on the rotten floorboards. Now, all he had left to do was wait until Samuel woke up.

“Looks like we’re going to be awhile,” Damon muttered, reaching into one of his pockets and pulling out a near-full carton of cigarettes. “May as well enjoy myself in that time.”

Damon slipped one out between his lips and lit it with his spare lighter, allowing the essence of the cigarette to take him to a place where his curse was non-existent.

Before he had been cursed, Damon had been working on kicking this habit from his life, but once the realization of the curse hit him, he threw all effort out the window, needing an escape from reality. Being immortal also made dying from the things impossible, so there was literally no reason not to have one whenever he needed one, so he did.

His drags were slow and easy, the sunshine starting to fade slowly into night as he continued to wait patiently. He didn’t need any sort of light source to continue his mission, knowing that the moon was currently on its cycle of being full. Therefore, light would be provided by the moon’s glow if the confrontation carried into the night.

It did.

The moon’s light soon penetrated every opening in the structure and painted the floorboards. The calming sound of chirping crickets soon met the eerie calm of the night, and upon a sudden grunt breaking the silence, Damon’s attention shot to Samuel, finally awake.

The man wriggled and squirmed like a worm, to which Damon answered by ripping the duct tape from Samuel’s mouth. He screamed out of the sting of the duct tape singing his nerves, but it soon passed as he started to resort to panic.

Damon merely stared blankly.

“Where am I? Who are you?! What do you want?!” Samuel pleaded endlessly.

Damon was used to these sets of words, all of them had been spoken by his victims in the past. He just remained calm as he waited for Samuel to calm down.

“You’re safe. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you, I just need you to help me with something and for you to never speak of our encounter for as long as you continue to live,” Damon stated lowly.

The mortal only continued to struggle in his binds, yelling for help in-between his efforts to get away from Damon and the godforsaken house he had awakened in. Damon only continued to wait for the mortal to succumb to exhaustion, knowing it wouldn’t take long to happen.

Humans were weak in comparison to an immortal, and their strength was no different. The violent struggle was putting a major toll on every one of Samuel’s muscles, and eventually, they’d give in to the stress, like fire being put out by water.

Minutes passed, seeming more like hours to Samuel in his desperation, and at long last, Samuel’s body and will surrendered.

“Are you done trying to do the inevitable?” Damon stated calmly.

“What do you want from me?” Samuel replied weakly.

“I already told you,” Damon stated as calmly as he could attempt. “I need you to help me with something, then to never speak of our endeavors ever again.”

“And if I do?” Samuel proposed.

“Then I will actually hurt you,” Damon threatened.

A deep gulp from Samuel echoed throughout the room as he attempted to sit up off the fragile floor.

“Very well, what do you need my help for? I’m no more than a mere man looking forward to retirement and a peaceful life. What could you possibly benefit from me?”

“I need you to guide me through the city’s deepest catacombs to retrieve something that I need. You’ve done it before for someone else, so don’t lie that you aren’t capable of it.”

Samuel raised an eyebrow instantly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve never been in or am even aware that such catacombs existed. I’m just a librarian, honestly.”

“Bullshit,”. Damon’s voice had grown slightly irritated. “The source where I learned about this information has no reason to lie about it, and I know that there are secret groups devoted to protecting forbidden scriptures such as what I seek in this city, so don’t think I’m going to just assume some average librarian doesn’t fit the bill.”

Samuel had started to cower at Damon’s feet, begging and pleading that he was clueless on the matter, but Damon didn’t buy it. He’d been around enough succubi to know that they don’t fuck around when it comes to serious business, and Driscella was no different. Yes, she was playful, but was also mature enough to know business is serious.

Damon was just about to resort to more violent tactics, up until a sound broke the atmosphere of the house.

An applause from a single set of hands.

“What a show, sweetie! What a show, indeed!”

Damon jumped at the voice caressing his eardrums, recognizing it instantly.

“Driscella?” Damon questioned. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

Driscella manifested from the shadows of the night into one of the many streaks of moonlight seeping into the house from the outside, a smile dressed on her face.

She strutted forward in a manner that defined every fiber of her true nature flawlessly, a long black dress adorning her body, and her hips swaying in perfect rhythm with each step she took.

“It’s nice to see you too,” she answered.

Damon grunted in annoyance.

“If you’ve come looking for a fuck, I’m not in the mood; I have more important things to do,” he addressed bluntly.

“Always assuming the obvious,” Driscella replied. “Even though fucking you is tempting, I’ve merely come to watch the show. I simply wanted to see you in action, and while your tactics are daring and sexy, I’m afraid you won’t get anywhere without some assistance from a being capable of manipulating and controlling the mind, like me.”

“What makes you so sure I can’t beat it out of him?” Damon countered with a clenched fist.

“Have you forgotten that you actually need the guide to make it through the catacombs? If you beat him, he won’t be able to go anywhere,” Driscella countered back.

“Fuck.”

“I heard that,” Driscella confirmed. “Why don’t you swallow your pride for once and let your dear and sexy friend, Driscella, help you out?”

That playful-yet-sincere tone met her lips again, and Damon couldn’t help but shiver at it, unsure what Driscella was planning. Was she being serious or toying with him like a succubus would their prey? The fact he couldn’t tell was what scared him, but she seemed to be serious, because she wasn’t trying any manipulation or intentionally playing with his senses.

“Fine,” he surrendered, expecting her to fly off or say something cynical and sarcastic.

She didn’t. She walked forward, leaned down to Samuel, and started doing something that seemed innocent, but was more than likely sinister.

“So, we meet again, Sammy,” she cooed, brushing her hand along the side of his face.

“You…

Samuel’s eyes widened at Driscella’s presence, recognizing her all too well.

“The one that assaulted me…

Driscella giggled innocently, getting down to Samuel’s level on the floorboards. Her eyes locked to his like a predator to its helpless prey.

“You know, it’s really such a shame that you lied to my friend about something so important to him,” she hissed cutely, starting to shift to something more terrifying. “You hurt him, so therefore, you hurt me, and you should know from our last encounter that hurting me is not a good thing to do. I took it easy on you last time, but this time, I’m going to fuck with your mind so hard that you won’t hurt anyone ever again!”

A red light suddenly blazed and the hand that Driscella had used to pet Samuel, gripped the entire left side of his head hard. Samuel let out grunts as red streaks started to form under his skin and spread like little snakes, slithering and engulfing every nerve, vein, and blood vessel.

It was terrifying and only grew more terrifying as his eyes started to glow the same red, his groans and shallow breaths dying down slowly to a faint whisper. The horror show continued for a few more minutes, up until Driscella released her grip and the streaks and red glow faded. Samuel fell to the floor hard and Driscella stood back up, eying Damon.

She walked forward past Damon without saying a word, up until the silence was broken by Samuel, groaning in what seemed like pain. He managed to maneuver himself onto his knees, and upon one look at his face, Damon felt a chill slither down his spine.

The entirety of the left side of Samuel’s face was disfigured with a pattern that resembled a spider web, only the pattern was formed by his own flesh that seemed to have been melted and sculpted to its new form. His eye was ghost-white with no pupil or iris visible, and his ear was completely disfigured, resembling the texture of his newly formed scar.

“What… did you do to him?” he muttered shakily.

“Taught him a lesson,” Driscella answered calmly. “He’s my personal little servant now, bound to my bidding and control. All knowledge he had of the catacombs is now in my mind and ridden of him for eternity.”

“So you just made yourself your own eternal plaything that will partake in whatever bizarre kinks you may have?”

“Not exactly. I made him a vegetable that only knows what I say or tell him to do, so he really wouldn’t be a fun partner to fuck with either way. I have a whole city to fuck with, so why would I limit myself to one. That’s no fun at all for a succubus with no reins on her.”

“I suppose,” Damon reluctantly agreed.

With one glance back at Driscella’s new servant, he walked forward where Driscella was waiting for him in the doorway. He had earned a whole new respect for her, now knowing just what she was capable of outside of her usual occupation.

“We should get moving,” Driscella stated in the moonlight. “The old passage was closed off by an unexpected collapse caused by heavy vibrations of construction equipment. There’s another one on the far side of town that can be accessed through a subway tunnel, but we’ll have to be careful, the tunnel is still active, unlike the previous passage.”

“Sounds fun,” Damon stated.

Driscella smiled at that comment, turning to Damon in the moonlit still of the night.

“Oh, it will be a fun time indeed.”

By some shred of luck, in one of the most constantly-lively cities in the world, the subway tunnel that Driscella and Damon needed to enter was dead upon arrival. It wasn’t a problem for them, seeing they wanted to enter this secret entrance to the catacombs with no trouble, and after trekking about a mile down the main trackline, they came to it.

Off the left side of the tracks was a hidden metal door with a single padlock on it, an obstacle that proved no challenge for Driscella, crushing it to dust with a single grip of her right hand. To mortals, the entrance would’ve seemed like a casual opening to a room only maintenance workers could enter, but with Driscella now holding all knowledge of the entrance and proper directions throughout the labyrinth of tunnels, there was no second guessing it.

Upon opening the door, an eerie feeling and atmosphere started to plague Damon’s senses. It was something he couldn’t explain; a heaviness that made him feel like lead blocks were stacked on his shoulders and only got worse as he walked deeper into the darkness.

Driscella noticed Damon’s struggle, stopping and igniting a medium-sized flame in the palm of one of her hands for light.

“What is it?” she asked with concern.

Damon grunted, eventually meeting his gaze with Driscella’s.

“Something doesn’t want us here,” he said between grunts.

“Probably some seal put on the tunnels by the secret groups that guard it,” Driscella clarified. “Here, let me give you a seal to block out any effect of it. That’ll make this trip faster and easier for both of us.”

“Why aren’t you affected?”

“I’m not a product of Satan anymore, therefore the seal doesn’t recognize me as one.”

“Oh, right.”

“Great. Now, hold still while I seal you with my own special seal.”

Damon didn’t object, allowing Driscella to do her work. She muttered some language as she placed her hands in certain areas of Damon’s face and chest, moving her fingers in certain patterns and shapes that he assumed drew out some ancient symbol that countered anything related to God.

After about five minutes, Driscella finished her work and turned to him with a smile, the flame still lit bright in her palm.

“Alright, you are officially cleansed of anything holy or godly until we get out of this place,” she confirmed joyfully. “Let’s just say you buy me two drinks of my choice and we’ll call it fair, seeing you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me.”

“Sounds fair enough,” Damon agreed. “If I don’t survive the end ritual, just take my wallet and go nuts with what I have.”

“Sounds fun,” she gestured. “Now, we should get moving. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before we reach those scrolls.”

Damon nodded as confirmation, and the two proceeded deeper into the depths of Underground NYC.

Their trek seemed to go on for eternity, and the deeper they seemed to go, the harder it seemed to breathe. Nothing critical or even alarming to an immortal, but it still proved challenging in their descent into what seemed like an ancient alien world that lay on the very edge of Hell itself.

Driscella’s provided flame even seemed to falter in the suffocating pitch-black darkness, but she proceeded forward regardless. Being a spawn of Satan and creature of lust, manipulation, and darkness, this place was like home to her, and it was clear through her absence of fear and worry.

Damon was actually relieved to have her with him. On his own, he would’ve probably been doomed and would’ve gotten lost down there.

Another ten minutes passed, then there was a stop, startling Damon in his abrupt halt, and nearly collapsing into Driscella. He managed to catch himself before losing his balance, catching the scent of Driscella’s shampoo emanating from her luxurious and long locks of black hair, extending to just past her hips and gracing her ass.

Damon would be lying if the sight didn’t arouse him even the slightest, but he didn’t allow himself to become entranced at the sight of her, knowing how witty succubi could be. While Driscella had never pulled anything against him, he couldn’t just assume she wouldn’t get any urges to. She was still a succubus, so he needed to treat every minute with her with caution and full awareness that she was one.

“The next path is too narrow for both of us to go at once,” Driscella explained.

Damon eyed the floor where an opening barely big enough for a body to fit through awaited their entrance. He was glad that he wasn’t claustrophobic at that moment, wondering how the hell the guardians of this place even fit through. It seemed abnormal, like it was a secret passage that hadn’t closed entirely.

“You call that a path?” Damon stated. “Perhaps it’s a path that normally opens fully, but wasn’t closed completely when one of the pansies who guard this place left last time?”

“That would make a lot more sense,” Driscella agreed. “Look at you thinking outside the box!”

Her sudden jovial response made Damon jump and express a look of complete confusion.

“Uh… thanks, I guess?” Damon baffled.

Driscella just smiled like a giddy child on a Christmas morning, working toward the supposed-secret path.

“So, what do we do now?” she asked.

“Lift it up, I suppose,” Damon offered, meeting Driscella at the wall. “With our strength, it should be a piece of cake.”

“Yeah, even if I’d prefer not getting dirty with prehistoric dirt and dust,” she pouted.

Damon sighed.

“You’re already dirty, just like me,” Damon clarified annoyingly.

Driscella jumped then proceeded to examine herself sporadically, catching every dirt patch and particle of filth that had stained her skin along the way to their current position. Upon turning back to Damon, she had a blush and sheepish smile on her face.

“Oh… that’s right…my bad…

Damon nearly collapsed at that.

“I can’t tell if she’s actually serious or joking…

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Driscella objected.

“Goddammit! I forgot you could hear my thoughts!” Damon exclaimed. “It’s just… you’re hard to understand at times, that’s all.”

Driscella merely frowned and grunted in annoyance at Damon’s unintended rudeness.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she replied, her annoyance still evident in her tone.

Damon just surrendered and followed Driscella’s actions, leaning down under the opening and gripping it with both of his hands. It didn’t even take a tug before the entire passageway was opened fully, the blockade being no match for two immortal’ strengths’ combined. It was the equivalent of lifting a feather.

A massive cloud of dust followed the action, quickly suffocating both Driscella and Damon like a rogue wave to a surfer. They quickly shielded their nostrils with their arms and ran forward as fast as they possibly could, ignoring the massive plume of dust currently making visibility beyond an inch from their bodies impossible.

Driscella lit another flame for light, carefully pulling Damon forward through the labyrinth, using her newly gained knowledge of how to navigate the tunnels to guide them safely and accordingly. The explosion of dust went on further than they would’ve thought, but eventually, the dust died off and they could breathe again, even if the air down there was just as bad.

They stopped to catch their breath, the surroundings no different than what they’d navigated within the past hour. Both of them were caked with dirt from head to toe, but they had expected no different after lifting the blockade, and at this point, they didn’t care what they looked like in those tunnels.

“You okay?” Driscella asked with real concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Damon confirmed. “Are you okay?”

“A few scratches, but they’ll heal quickly, don’t worry,” Driscella clarified. “Let’s take a little break. It’s not much farther, but my feet are killing me, and while I am a demon, I still am a woman.”

Damon giggled at that.

“It’s alright, I need a minute too,” he agreed, taking a seat next to Driscella, who had lit a cigarette.

“Oh yeah,” she purred. “I’ve been needing one of these babies since we entered the subway tunnel. Sweet relief.”

Damon smiled at Driscella’s form of relief, taking in deep breaths. It was quiet for a minute, up until Driscella broke the dead silence, saying something Damon would have never expected her to say.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You haven’t seemed like the Damon I met that night in the bar since we entered the subway tunnel.”

Damon let out a long sigh, knowing he’d been caught.

“Is it really that obvious?” he questioned in defeat.

“Completely,” Driscella confirmed.

Another sigh escaped Damon’s lips before he confirmed what he’d been trying to hide.

“Well, I’ve been thinking hard about what I’m planning to do to myself, seeing these are my final hours as an immortal; what I’ve been for the past five years,” Damon confessed.

“Getting cold feet?” Driscella questioned, her tone sounding serious and nothing close to the playful Driscella he had met at the bar the previous night. “It’s okay if you are. I got the same way on the drive to perform the ritual, thinking things over and wondering what would happen.”

“Not cold feet, more like second thoughts,” Damon corrected.

Driscella winced in curiosity, halfway through a drag of her smoke.

“I hate to say it, but…

Damon’s response died off.

“What? What’s making you think twice?” Driscella asked with genuine concern.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

The deathly quiet met the area once again, Driscella continuing to relieve herself, while Damon’s thoughts continued to engage in war. It stayed that way for a minute, up until Damon seized the war in his mind, asking Driscella a question he’d not even dared to ask.

“Can I ask you something and get the actual truth?” he proposed.

“Hmm?”

“Like, no playful bullshit or anything like that, just the truth.”

Driscella was confused at first, but eventually found her words.

“Alright. Ask away,” she finally answered.

Another long sigh escaped Damon, then he just spoke.

“Why did you even bother helping me in the first place?” he spat. “You could’ve just treated me like any of your other clients and tossed me aside, so what about me made me special enough to get your attention, let alone, assistance?”

Driscella raised an eyebrow, but then receded it, trying to find the actual answer. Why had she actually taken time out of her schedule of sleeping with hopeless romantics, widows, virgins, and just anybody altogether to help Damon in something potentially impossible?

She shrugged her shoulders as a response.

“I honestly have no idea,” she answered. “It could’ve been because I enjoyed your company enough to give a shit, that your business intrigued me enough to care, or maybe I just like being around you and care enough to protect you in a task I knew you’d struggle in. Any of those are plausible enough.”

“I don’t think so,” he countered. “While it may have started out playful and business-oriented, your behavior down here has gone beyond any of those claims. You’ve been more… protective and concerned about me, rather than how you acted in our first meeting.”

“I’m not sure I understand, Damon,” Driscella replied, her tone shifting.

“Driscella, think about it. The seal to keep me safe from any of the seals the guardians may have put down here, your concern and care for me in our current situation, turning the guy into a vegetable rather than your own personal sex slave; I’ve dealt with enough succubi to know that the way you are acting is not how they normally act, and given you are heavily-devoted to a succubus’s true nature, you’d act no different.”

“Maybe I’m a mix, sweety. Whatever you’re trying to imply isn’t true, so I’d suggest dropping it. I gave you the truth, so take it or leave it.”

“Ugh. Forget it.”

Damon stood back up, walking further forward in the labyrinth of tunnels. Driscella jumped at this sudden action.

“Where are you going?” she asked, Damon not stopping.

“Where do you think?” he answered with irritation in his voice. “To potentially kill myself.”

“You’ll die without my guidance,” Driscella claimed. “Give me a second to get up and I’ll-

“Either get off your ass or I’m going alone. End of story.”

Driscella raised an eyebrow at Damon’s sudden nasty attitude, confused.

“What’s up with the sudden pissy attitude?!”

No answer.

“Damon!”

Silence.

“Urgh! Stubborn ignorant little shit!” she pouted, hurrying back onto her feet. “Why the hell am I helping him!? He just literally abandoned me, and after all I’ve done to help him!”

Her pouts echoed throughout the tunnels, eventually tracking down Damon again and giving him a most unpleasant welcome.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve leaving me behind!” she continuously pouted. “You’re lucky I didn’t turn around and just leave you to find the scrolls yourself!”

Damon didn’t even give her an answer, frustrating Driscella even more as they continued furthermore to their final destination.

“Urgh! Why are you suddenly mad at me?! Did I say something wrong?!”

“You know why! Don’t even try pretending you don’t!” Damon growled.

“But I don’t kn-…ugh!”

Driscella just surrendered as they came to a new area lit by torches, a nice change of scenery in the depths that both Damon and Driscella were grateful for.

It had a feel of an underground dungeon or jail that had been kept secret by some top secret Order or group to house the worst criminals throughout history, but the absence of sound aside from the hum of the fire on the lit torches and their own breathing said otherwise. There was only one direction, so they continued forward down the long passage, up until the passage ended at a large pair of double doors.

They were surprisingly in good condition, with only a few rusted and weathered spots. On the door was an engraved seal of some sort and ancient depiction of Satan being damned to Hell, further clarifying that this was the right place. The door had a massive lock holding it shut, to which Damon broke free with a hard kick, the lock falling to the stone floor and crashing with a hard thump that echoed for miles.

Opening the doors, the sight of a large room met Damon and Driscella’s eyes. It was wide and round with a grounded platform in the middle, an engraving of the same symbol on the door carved on its top surface and four of its ends lining out to four small pillars in the room.

It resembled something like a setup for a ritual involving sacrifice.

“What the hell?” Damon questioned, continuing to stare at the room’s interior. “Is this the right place?”

“Yes,” Driscella clarified. “The pillars hold the four relics that have the power to protect you from Satan. If you possess all four, you cannot even be touched or influenced by him; you become a god. However, to do so, you must give up your soul to do it; only when a soul is given will the Star of Immortality bleed and provide one with the strength of an immortal.”

“How do you know all this?” Damon questioned.

“The scrolls explained it,” Driscella answered. “Maybe if you explain why you suddenly turned into an absolute asshole, I’ll tell you how to get the scrolls from their provided pillar.”

Damon just smirked and walked to the pillar protected by a glass casing, a pair of ancient rolled up scrolls under and resting on the pillar’s top surface. Knowing what was to follow, Driscella fancied herself with a cigarette, lighting it and awaiting the show to unfold.

Damon first tried to break the glass, only to receive a painful and cramped hand, not even cracking or denting the glass. He cussed wildly and cupped his injured limb in his other hand, flopping it and continuing to scream every swear word possible in his vocabulary.

Driscella simply watched in amusement, taking small drags and wearing a smug smile the entire duration.

After Damon’s wounds had healed enough, he decided to approach the glass by lifting it, but failed again, the weight being too heavy for him to even budge.

His frustration grew higher, grunts escaping his mouth and his breathing growing rapidly.

Driscella just continued to enjoy the entertainment unfolding before her in full joy, continuing to take drags in-between Damon’s struggles, chuckles escaping her every so often.

The same antics continued like a broken record, up until Damon surrendered in defeat and Driscella eyed him smugly, her cigarette nearly finished down to its filter.

“Are you done embarrassing yourself?” Driscella claimed.

“Ugh, fine. You win,” he surrendered.

“Good boy,” she answered, flicking her smoke into a corner of the room after making sure the cherry had been extinguished completely by her thumb. “So, why the sudden pissy attitude after only doing what you asked me to do?”

Damon sighed heavily in his loss, swallowing his pride and spitting out the truth.

“I’m sorry, my anger and emotions got the better of me,” he started. “You see, before I met you, my life was devoid of anyone other than myself, and I’d thought removing creatures that either killed or mentally fucked up humans would help to fill that void. Unfortunately, I’d been doing nothing except making my life my own personal Hell unintentionally, and I was blind to see it until you came into my life.”

Driscella winced at the mention of her, dropping her smug demeanor and expression to a more concerned and sympathetic look.

“The reason I searched for a solution to freedom from immortality, is because I just wanted to die. I didn’t want to be stuck in this misery of eternal life and torture anymore, but that’s because I didn’t realize I’d been causing it myself. Only after you showed concern and care for me in a journey for something truly important to me, even if the end result may be impossible to obtain, did I realize that even immortals have ones of their kind that care for them; that there is happiness even in an eternal life. You just need to look in the right places, and I found that in you; a succubus of all things.”

“D-Damon, I-I…

Driscella couldn’t find the words to speak, her mouth agape with nothing but her breath escaping the maw. Her dark heart was touched by Damon’s confession, and a light blush had begun to form on her face; she was stunned and still as Damon continued.

“So, when you said that you didn’t truly know why you’d taken the liberty of guiding me here, an ancient room on what-feels-like the edge of Hell itself, it felt like you were just doing this to toy with me and not even care about what happened in the end. I know we only met last night, but you’re the only one that has actually shown me real care and concern, and for you to respond like you did, it hurt me more than anything.

You’re the reason I’m still debating on giving up immortality, because without you, I don’t know if I can go on living.

I’ve fallen in love with you, Driscella…

That end comment made Driscella’s heart flutter and her entire body jump in surprise. She was shocked, stricken, and unable to comprehend what she had just heard come out of Damon’s mouth. She could only stutter in disbelief, holding eye contact with Damon.

How could anyone love a succubus without being under some sort of spell? She was a creature of lust and manipulation that was cursed to steal souls through acts of seduction. Nobody could ever love a creature of such volatility. Damon had to be pulling her leg, but his emotional demeanor at that moment said otherwise, and all she could do was stand unsure. Damon spoke first however, and what came out nearly made Driscella’s emotions break.

“I’m sorry. You can leave me behind if you want. I’m an idiot for ever thinking you’d see me as something more. You are a succubus after all, you’ve got a job to do and priorities. Go live them to the fullest, I understand.”

She couldn’t even bear leaving Damon behind, and she didn’t know why, up until her stunned demeanor broke and she understood why Damon was so important to her.

She didn’t speak anything. She lunged.

Damon was completely caught off guard by a sudden collapse into his body, his back having been turned from Driscella. He was turned to meet Driscella, quickly following up with his lips being embraced with her own. His eyes bulged at the contact, and gently broke from her in confusion.

“What are you doing?” he questioned.

“What we both want,” she whispered, locking her lips with his again.

Damon just returned the embrace, wrapping his buff arms around Driscella’s slim form and pulling her tight against his chest. Their lips locked tight in sets of exchanges, eventually meeting one of the stone walls of the room with a mild thump, but Damon felt nothing except Driscella’s embrace and body against his own.

Not long after the impact, he had felt Driscella’s soft hands slither under his shirt and glide over his muscles in the form of a massage, taking their time to relax each one in a delicate rhythm that drove Damon’s hormones wild. He could already feel his body succumbing to Driscella’s actions as he continued to engage with her lips, pulling her closely and moving his hands delicately along her sides and curves.

An action that drove Driscella into her own surrender as his hands continued to arouse her body and make every nerve dance.

True passion that she had never experienced in her life as a succubus.

Their kiss broke into a dance with their tongues, heavy breaths escaping both of them in a display of true bliss, growing more intense with each glide of their hands on each other’s respected bodies. Driscella took it further, feeling safe and content in Damon’s embrace, and slowly started to slip off his shirt. Damon allowed it, breaking from her lips and feeling her pull the attire from his body, up until it was tossed across the room and Damon’s muscular form was the only thing visible to Driscella’s eyes.

Their kiss remained broken as Driscella moved her hands to his chest and glided them from his neck to her abdomen, kissing and exploring him with care. Every touch from Driscella made Damon’s body shiver in satisfaction, lips soft and delicate, and her hands warm and arousing to his nerves. His body grew hotter as Driscella continued to send his body into full bliss with every touch of her hands and lips to his flesh.

Then she stopped, standing back up and touching her lips to his in a lock. Damon took the initiative that Driscella was giving him, moving his hands to the shoulder straps of her dress and gently gliding them down her shoulders and arms. With that, the dress no longer had support and collapsed to the floor, revealing all of Driscella’s features in a sudden flash.

Her skin was flawless, breasts medium in size, and vagina cleanly shaven with a heart tattoo just above her clitoris. Her luxurious locks coated the entirety of her back and buttocks, but Damon wasn’t turned off the slightest, breaking his lips from hers to admire her beauty in the dim light.

Never before had he seen such radiant and flawless beauty, and as he continued to stare, his body started to respond to the sight before him. Driscella caught on quickly, working her way to his jeans and unbuttoning the attire. Upon the zipper meeting base level, Driscella was met with a massive bulge behind Damon’s underwear. A sight she licked her lips at.

Grabbing the sides of the jeans and underwear, she pulled down, and in a sudden action, Damon’s member flopped into Driscella’s vision, its girth making her eyes bulge in surprise. Damon assisted Driscella, slipping off his casual shoes and kicking the jeans off to the side, then, now starch naked on the edge of Hell’s borders, the two stood before one another in their most natural forms. They just eyed each other in sexual curiosity and silence, exploring one another intimately, up until Damon broke the silence.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked with sincerity.

“Yes, Damon,” Driscella answered with confidence. “I’m ready to experience true love.”

“Very well, but before we start, I have one request,” he stated.

“What is it?”

“If we want this to really be true, we can’t lie to one another, and the form you currently hold isn’t the real Driscella. I want to experience love with your true form and only that form.”

Driscella smiled at that, feeling her heart flutter again.

“Of course, Damon,” she agreed.

A green light suddenly illuminated the room, and out of it, Driscella appeared in her true succubus form. Her eyes had no white, only black, with a single ring of sapphire-blue residing where an iris would normally reside, her breasts were finely crafted, her skin was blood red, her hair was pitch-black with two small curved horns escaping both sides of her head, her teeth were sharp and jagged, the tips of her hands and feet extended sharp and long talons, a pair of wide ragged wings extended from the center of her back, and a long thin tail slithered from the base of her spine.