The Gentleman Incubus

by E. M. Hardy

  It took a moment for Glenn to notice the alerts, but his eyes widened in surprise the very moment he did.

  (More gifts, more rewards, for the good boy that does what he is told, ignores what he is told to ignore.)

  The skill Drain Life was gone now, replaced by Link Life. It was like a slow heal over time, transferring his own life points to his target, but it was the mental and spiritual protection that really mattered right now. This newly-metamorphosed skill would be perfect for helping Annie hold out a bit longer against the Terror Demon’s assault—especially when paired with his new skill.

  Dream Cage was likewise replaced by Dream Shawl, one that made others ignore him as long as he got out of their way. Now that he thought about it, the skill’s description pretty much matched the Terror Demon’s Vanish skill. And if it worked as intended, would allow him to pull off what he had in mind.

  Glenn inhaled deeply, steeling himself for the task ahead, and acted.

  He started by instructing Ynnistoria to cast Dream Shawl around himself. He winced as he felt the tug on his life point pool, then widened his eyes as the world around him shifted a little bit. A thin barrier surrounded him, wrapped itself around his skin. It covered his entire body, from the tips of his bovine horns to the blackened nails of his feet.

  Glenn gritted his teeth, hoping his new skill worked as advertised, and instructed Ynnistoria to cast Link Life upon Annie.

  He instantly regretted the decision.

  Pure fear slammed into his mind, an animal kind of fear that spewed forth from the psychic link connecting him to Annie. His mind and soul screamed at him to get away, to run away from the dangerous thing that wanted to hurt him. His waking mind told him to stay put, to weather the storm, but his lizard brain told him to get the hell away from the formless, shapeless terror demon with its endless number of eyes.

  And this was only the first second of contact with Annie’s mind.

  The fear grew even stronger, more pronounced with each passing second. Glenn felt himself collapse, his strengthened incubus body doing nothing against the soul-crushing fear that the Terror Demon induced. He began panting, biting his tongue to stop himself from crying out and catching the attention of the demon focused on its prey.

  Glenn Olson

  Life Points: 1,241/2,980*

  Afflicted by:

  *Horrify (via Link Life)

  *Drain Sanity (via Link Life)

  *Agitation (via Link Life)

  Glenn squeezed his eyes shut after reviewing his stats. Ynnie, he thought to his assistant as he continued absorbing Annie’s terror. What’s my current sanity pool, and will I be able to maintain the connection before the cops get here?

  His digital assistant silently ran the numbers, then replied in a cool, matter-of-fact tone devoid of emotion—a tone that he knew for certain was forced.

  Ynnistoria: Law enforcement will most likely arrive in sixteen, seventeen minutes. As for your current Sanity points… I am not entirely sure, Glenn.

  What do you mean, Ynnie? Doesn’t the system work like my life points or something?

  Ynnistoria: That is exactly it, Glenn. I can’t seem to identify your current Sanity points like with Anastasia Rutledge. I can clearly find the information on her stat sheet, give a rough estimate of her current and total values. As for you… apologies for this shortcoming, Glenn, but I simply cannot do the same for you.

  That’s… inconvenient. Let’s put it another way: what happens if I lose all my Sanity?

  Ynnistoria: You will die, Glenn.

  ImmerCorp Anti-Malware Shield has detected anomalous behavior! Please wait a moment while we clear that up for you!

  Ynnistoria: …but not immediately. Your rational mind will basically shut down until it recovers enough to function normally once more. If you are lucky, you will react purely on animal instinct, either fighting or fleeing. If you are not so lucky, you will start living out your delusions, rendering you a threat to yourself and to others.

  Ynnistoria: I… will not be able to help if your mind shuts down, and death is almost inevitable if the Greater Terror Demon right in front of you breaks through your Dream Shawl. This is the most likely outcome, however, which is why I said you will die should your Sanity run out in this critical moment.

  … … … … … … … … … … …

  ImmerCorp Anti-Malware scan completed! Anomalous behavior confirmed as a false positive. We apologize for the inconvenience!

  Glenn digested all this while trying to push down the mounting fear that threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted to save Annie, to redeem himself for his past failings and hopefully do something right this time around. But the truth was that he could do nothing against the significantly more powerful demon before him. It took every ounce of concentration he could muster just to keep thinking straight—concentration that slowly wavered with each passing second as pure terror began eroding his conscious thoughts.

  He swallowed the bitter bile that threatened to climb up his throat and faced the reality staring him in the face.

  One… one more minute. I’ll bail the moment I feel that… that I can’t take the fear anymore, but give me one more minute, Ynnie.

  Ynnistoria: I understand. However—wait one moment.

  Ynnistoria: I’ve been monitoring police chatter, Glenn, and they’re describing humanoids coming out of the portals. The portals also swirl cleanly, emit a bright light. Demons tear through the fabrics of reality, rend it with claws and force of will. Those portals I mentioned earlier, they might not be infernal in nature. No, they are most definitely not infernal in nature. Glenn, you need to get out of there RIGHT THIS INSTANT. You’re going up against—

  Glenn gasped as an oppressive force gripped his mind in a crushing embrace of horror. The Terror Demon’s multitude of eyes swiveled angrily at him, having noticed something off about its prey. The mortal should have been progressing steadily toward insanity, the intensity of her fear climbing with each passing second.

  She should not have relaxed ever so slightly, her muscles loosened as if a great burden were lifted from it.

  This was why the Terror Demon cast its gazes around, scanning with its five dozen eyes to check what was going on. It found a thin telepathic thread weaving its way between the woman and an empty pocket of space that it just didn’t want to look at. Its eyes slid over that particular corner of the room, refusing to focus at the empty space within.

  That’s when the Terror Demon realized something off was going on. All it took was one supreme force of attention, one concentration of all the willpower and perception it could bear upon the dead zone, to figure out what was happening.

  And there it stood, the immature demon that attempted to poach its meal. The Terror Demon thought that the stripling of Lust was smart for backing down, for submitting to its strength. Maybe it would be lucky enough to distract any potential pursuers after it was done feeding.

  The Terror Demon would grant the stripling no such mercy now that it tried stealing a meal for a second time.

  As for Glenn, he knew that the demon grossly outclassed him. That knowledge, however, simply settled on the surface level of his mind. Only now with the sheer oppressive force of its telepathic assault did he realize just how insignificant and powerless he was in the face of the entity.

  And powerless he was, indeed. He couldn’t even tear his own eyes away from the Terror Demon, the misshapen orbs of its eyes focused entirely upon his hapless mind. He didn’t even realize the moment when his rational thoughts slipped away, when something blotted out his waking consciousness and wrapped it in a tight ball inside his own mind.

  ***

  The Mistress brought Good Boy to the home that her suit of flesh inhabited. In truth, it was neither posh and luxurious nor dingy and impoverished. A queen-sized bed with four pillows, a refrigerator stocked with sodas and froze
n TV dinners, a few cabinets filled with canned foods, a shower and toilet sharing the same space. It was just an average home by typical standards.

  To Good Boy though, it was blissful luxury. He didn’t know why, but tears began forming in his mouth when the Mistress undressed him and pulled him into the hot waters of the shower.

  He rubbed his neck, still remembering the soul-burning fire that enveloped it during the ritual pact between him and the Mistress. He beheld her in her terrible beauty then, the bottomless void of spite and desire that encompassed her being. It was only for the briefest of moments, and he couldn’t remember most of what happened, but the intensity of the instant nonetheless left its mark on his mind and soul.

  “Such a Good Boy,” the Mistress purred as she stroked his flaccid manhood. “So pliant, so obedient, so malleable.”

  “I live to serve, Mistress,” Good Boy replied, his member stiffening under the gentle ministrations of the entity that claimed her as his own. His pleasure was soon drowned out by excruciating pain as the Mistress clamped her fingers around his testicles.

  “I don’t recall giving you permission to speak. Good boys only speak when permitted to. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

  Good Boy swallowed the scream of pain that wanted to escape his lips, instead nodding furiously. Satisfied, the Mistress released her grip and rewarded him with a pleased smirk.

  “Good. Now… sit down.”

  Good Boy shook his head in confusion, wondering how he managed to clothe himself so quickly. He looked up, wanting to ask what was going on, when he noticed the Mistress wearing another skin this time around. Her previous milky complexion was replaced by a deep, complex tan. Her generous breasts straining against her tank top were now flat, perk mounds tucked inside a formal suit.

  Now she was pale once more, her eyes slanting and her cheekbones raising up. Thin limbs shifted to muscular implements of strength, then to soft, chubby extensions.

  The Mistress frowned at Good Boy as he continued to stare at her, openly gawking at her shifting forms. He soon jumped in his seat as something angry banged at the door, casting a nervous glance at the structure in question. The loud banging continued, an incoherent hissing sound coming from the other side of the thin composite wood fiber door.

  “You’ll be safe in here,” the Mistress purred, her face and body still shifting. “Just focus on my voice. Nothing else but me. I am your world, your entire sense of being.”

  Good Boy slowly closed his mouth, his eyes slacking and his shoulders drooping as the muscles in his body relaxed. He nodded his assent, which elicited a pleased smile from the Mistress. She sauntered closer, her shifting clothes melting away like mist in the morning sun.

  She soon stood before him, blessing him with her divine nudity. Her face, her eyes, her skin, her breasts, her sex continued shifting wildly from one configuration to another.

  She leaned in closer to kiss Good Boy fully on the lips, and he leaned up to meet her. He exhaled in utter bliss as their lips locked, the Mistress sitting down on his lap and letting him slip effortlessly inside her warm, churning slit. Glenn pulled back long enough to gasp in pleasure, causing the Mistress to giggle in delight.

  “Yes. Such delectable pain and misery you possess, even after all these years. I should claim you again for myself. Do you want me to claim you once more, my Good Boy?”

  Good Boy said nothing, nodding airily as his blank eyes met the Mistress. She laughed now, a full-throated one as her face shifted to that of a tanned youth with a dusting of freckles over her cheeks, before leaning forward once more to devour Good Boy’s lips.

  All thoughts of the enraged intruder melted away, the pleasure of the Mistress’ body erasing anything and everything around him.

  ***

  Glenn came to with the sound of violent, inhuman screeching reverberating inside his skull. The screeching died down after a moment as the soft puff-puff-puff of a smart pistol filled the air. He tried shaking the confusion away when something meaty and fleshy splattered beside him.

  Glenn soon recovered his senses, blissfully free of the demon’s mental assault, and he collapsed limbless to the ground—no longer able to support himself as his mind rebelled against the raw pain inflicted upon it.

  He could have easily excused himself by saying that his mind was just too tired and exhausted from supporting Annie, from bearing her psychic burden as the Terror Demon Horrified her. Maybe he got distracted long enough for his Dream Shawl to falter, exposing him to the demon and allowing it to identify his intrusions.

  The more important question, however, was how he was still alive after the Terror Demon locked him into its sights.

  Glenn ventured a peek at the demon, craning his neck to get a look at the entity that had him at its mercy. Its dozens of eyes roved all around, almost in a panic, before snapping back to Glenn. The demon graced him with an image of himself bleeding out from every orifice as his heart exploded from his chest—but not before Annie suffered the same fate, screaming as she clawed her eyes out of their sockets.

  The demon cut the connection when another flurry of bullets came whizzing at it. The demon turned immaterial as it activated Phase, zipping through the wall, almost as if it were fleeing. Glenn lay there on the floor, stunned by its sudden departure, before closing his eyes in relief.

  Ynnistoria: You need to get up, Glenn… NOW!

  Why?

  Ynnistoria: I can sense someone using mana out there, Glenn, and there’s no mana in your world. I can even sense divine blessings upon one of them! Demon hunters most likely, maybe even a heroic among them. You do not want to draw the attention of a hero upon yourself if you know what’s—

  ImmerCorp Anti-Malware Shield has detected anomalous behavior! Please wait a moment while we clear that up for you!

  Ynnistoria: What I meant to say, Glenn, is that additional otherworldly threats are inbound. They are most likely Demon Hunters that will be drawn by the flagrant display of demonic power currently being thrown around in the city. While they might not harm other mortals, they would very readily destroy a Lesser Incubus such as yourself—especially if these threats are actively looking to engage and possibly destroy a Greater Terror Demon.

  … … … … … … … … … … …

  ImmerCorp Anti-Malware scan completed! Anomalous behavior confirmed as a false positive. We apologize for the inconvenience!

  Glenn groaned to himself, not wanting to believe his digital assistant. He wanted to just lie down on the floor, probably doze off for a few hours. That, and he could already feel the familiar pangs of Infernal Hunger start gnawing away at his stomach and groin. His prehensile penis was even wriggling in dissatisfaction as the unholy horniness came over him.

  A shadow loomed over him, and he groggily opened his eyes to the sight of a stern Annie staring down at him. With a smart pistol pointed at his face, of course. She looked tired, drained, but ultimately alive—eliciting a soft, silent, and utterly-exhausted smile from Glenn.

  “I had that perfectly under control, you know?”

  Glenn couldn’t help but chuckle despite the screaming protest of his freshly-battered brain. “If you say so, Annie.”

  For her part, Annie just rolled her eyes—just in time as something exploded outside her house. She puckered her lips up in distaste, pointing her pistol away from Glenn. Her eyes lost focus then, probably interacting with her HUD. She frowned, and her frown deepened as she turned her attention to her robot servitors.

  The four machines still lay in an unmoving heap, as good as a pile of junk. Glenn followed her with his eyes as she cussed and kicked one of them, the still-frozen servitor toppling down to the ground.

  “Well, that thing fucked my bots up good. Useless pieces of shit,” she snarled as she kicked another servitor for good measure.

  Glenn pushed himself up with an elbow and one of his tentacles—using the other appendage to
steady himself as his first step faltered. Annie put on a show of calm detachment while she eyed Glenn, though she did take a step back away from him.

  “Could you do me a favor?” Glenn said quietly, shakily. “If anyone asks, could you say that you never saw me? Especially the… uh… demon hunters out there,” he added, nodding toward the blasts of light and sound going off on Annie’s front yard.

  Annie pursed her lips and then turned around to get a better look at what was going on outside. Glenn did the same, stepping close to a window to get a better view. She scowled at his casual approach, especially when she laid her eyes upon his horns and tentacles.

  He couldn’t see much from the window, but he could see enough. If he looked closely, he could consider it a scene straight out of a movie or alt-world duel: streaks of light, explosions, strange symbols appearing in the air—all indicative of magic being thrown around.

  “I was awake for the whole time, you know,” she finally whispered, breaking the silence. “I couldn’t move a muscle and my brain was getting fucked six ways to Sunday, but I was still there. And I know what you did for me.” Annie pouted as she turned to face Glenn, crossing her arms. “I’ll shut up about you, but we’re not done here, Roger Hill. Or Glenn Olson, or whatever you call yourself these days. We’re going to have a long, long talk about what the hell just happened here. Now get out of here, while those guys out there are busy knocking one another to kingdom come.”