by E. M. Hardy
“Easy,” Glenn purred out in as soothing a tone as he could manage, splaying his fingers out to calm the suddenly-hostile woman in front of him. “Please put the gun away. That’s Hazel. She’s my friend. She won’t hurt you.” Annie’s fingers twitched away from the trigger even as she swung the pistol at Glenn. She aimed its compressed barrel at his feet, but it did nothing to soothe his nerves.
“Wait, she’s got a gun?” Hazel’s muffled voice squeaked out from behind the bedroom door, all signs of levity gone as she realized the gravity of the situation.
“Yes, Haze, she’s got a gun… so please just stay in the room and—”
“No, I don’t think so,” Annie interrupted. “Get out here in the open, where I can see you.”
“Screw you, you crazy bitch. I’m calling the cops.”
“NO!” two voices shouted as one.
“Annie, please put the gun away. I can assure you that Hazel is a good friend and will mean you no harm. Haze, please do not call the police. Things are hot enough as they are and I really don’t want to draw more attention to myself than necessary.”
Annie stared at Glen for a full second before she relented, slipping her weapon back into its holster.
“Okay… Annie put the gun away. You can come out now, Haze.”
Half of Hazel peeked cautiously out the bedroom door, one eye glowering at Annie.
“Huh. And you are?”
“Anastasia Rutledge.” Annie stiffened her chin as she raised it slightly upwards, fighting a sneer as she did so. “You?”
“Hazel Thompson… bitch.” Glenn fought back a groan as Hazel hissed out the insult.
“Thompson? Thompson…” Annie narrowed her eyes as she studied Hazel, who shrank back behind the door from the intense scrutiny. “Hmm… yes, I see it. Are you somehow related to Miriam Thompson?”
Hazel gawped in surprise, forgetting her fear as she poked her whole head out the door. “You know mommy M?”
“Both of your mothers, actually,” Annie smoothly interjected, taking advantage of Hazel’s lowered guard to draw her into conversation. “I recall they went to a gene clinic to have a child from their shared genes. I can see the similarities in your lips and cheekbones.” Glenn breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed Annie’s hand slip away from the discreet holster inside the suit, opting instead to set both hands on her sides.
“Miriam Thompson, fashion designer, and Juliette Thompson, fashion influencer. I subscribe to Juliette’s virtual talk shows and own a few suits designed by Miriam. I must admit, few women can make a business suit that draws out the female figure while still radiating power quite like your mother. I am, in fact, wearing one of those pieces right this very moment.” She gestured at her own attire, pointing to the blue textile and white trim with the palm of her hand.
Hazel stepped out of Glenn’s room, still cautious but far less hostile than before. “Yeah, that’s mommy M’s style all right. Some claim that her style’s too butch, not girly enough.”
Annie puffed in indignation before sneering with distaste. “Please. They just don’t know how to properly conduct themselves while wearing formal attire.”
“Right? I mean, you can’t strut around all skanky when wearing one of mommy M’s suits. You also can’t act like a fly on the wall, or… or just stand there all passive and stuff. You’ve gotta own it; just stride in there like you own the place!”
“True, true. The aura of power becomes especially pronounced when you literally own the business and need to remind everyone of that fact.”
Hazel was fully out of the room now, her face alight with passion as she sat down beside Annie. “Mommy T keeps emphasizing that point on her talk show, about projecting power through fashion, but not a lot of people actually listen to her advice when she talks about suits! High fashion is all about screaming for attention, not subtlety and beauty.”
“Indeed,” Annie replied with a solemn nod. “It is a shame that few people realize that. Most of Juliette’s viewers tune in for her take on developing trends in the high fashion scene, but she puts out surprisingly insightful content on presenting oneself in a business environment.”
“That’s why it’s usually you corporate types that get mommy M’s style. And sometimes a couple of politicians. But yeah, I totally wish more people would get where she’s coming from!”
Annie’s eyes sparkled now, her lips curled up in a smile, when she noticed Glenn quietly observing the exchange between the two excited women. Annie pressed her lips together, sat up straighter, and coughed into a balled fist. “Ahem. As much as I would love to continue with this discussion, Hazel, I still have some unfinished business with Roger here.”
“Roger?” Hazel asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Ah, right. He calls himself Glenn Olson now. I knew him as Roger Hill back in our high school days. Isn’t that right, Roger? Or should I say, Glenn?”
Glenn winced, the familiar pain shooting through his head.
“I go by Glenn now. It—” He flinched as the pain doubled, causing him to squirm in visible discomfort while he tried to recall memories of his old life. “It’s a long and unpleasant story. I’d rather not dig those painful memories back up again, if you don’t mind.”
Annie stared at Glenn, relishing the power she held over his past. Hazel, however, picked up on his clear discomfort.
“Right,” she announced with finality, fixing Annie with a glare devoid of the eagerness she previously possessed. “You said you had unfinished business with our Glennie-pooh here?”
Annie visibly startled at that, fixing Hazel with a puzzled stare. “Glennie-pooh?”
Hazel nodded, crossing her arms and raising her chin to match Annie’s arrogance. “Yeah. Glenn here is a terribly sweet little ball of fluff. A bit too awkward and reserved for his own good, but he’s a decent guy when you get to know him. He’s crazy good at getting me off too, especially when he’s in his demon form. I can attest to that fact in a court of law if you want me to, but don’t just trust my word for it. I’ll call Kris here right now and tell you how he can rock your socks off whenever, however you want it.”
“Who’s Kris?”
Hazel smirked evilly. “Oh, the other girl in our little group. She and I have been keeping Glenn nice and squeezed these past few weeks… especially now that he can heal us too.” She puffed her chest out, finally getting a one-up over Annie.
Glenn widened his eyes at Hazel’s bold, shameless commendation of his coital performance—no doubt trying to spite Annie, maybe even incite envy. He was more worried about their most recent session destabilizing Hazel’s self-restraint, which was admittedly already pretty low to begin with. “Erm, Haze? Where are you going with this?”
Annie, however, just squinted first at Hazel then at Glenn. She nodded, apparently coming to an understanding that surprised both Glenn and Hazel with its lucidity. “A heal, huh? Yes, I remember him doing something of the sort back when the Terror Demon was filling my head with nightmares. I was fraying then, just about to give in, when I felt the burden on my mind suddenly lighten. I’m guessing that was you?” She directed the last sentence at Glenn, who hesitated before nodding in the affirmative.
It was Hazel’s turn to rear back in surprise. “Terror Demon?” She whipped her head at Glenn, who winced in discomfort as he realized he had yet to explain his situation to Hazel. “What the hell happened last night, Glenn? And why didn’t you tell me about it?”
He hesitated before answering, mulling over his options. “Um. Because you jumped my bones the very minute Kris left, not giving me a chance to talk—much less explain?”
Hazel was just about to retort, to point out the error in his statement, when she clacked her mouth shut and harrumphed to herself. “Well… yeah, you’ve got a point there.” She turned her glare to Annie then, scowling crossly at her. “And we would still be going at it right this very moment if you hadn’t shown up.”
Annie just furrowed her brow
at Hazel, confusion written all over her face as she turned her attention to Glenn. “Wait, you’re talking about this guy? The same dickless milquetoast who’s about as sexually aggressive as a castrated alpaca?”
“A castrated what?”
“Alpaca. Never mind,” Annie responded with a shake of her head. “Are you positive you’re describing this guy right here?” She pointed a thumb at him from behind her shoulder, her brows creased while doing so. “Because the lame-dick Roger I know isn’t exactly what you’d associate with being a stud.”
Hazel matched Annie’s confused look with one of her own, although one tinged with a growing hint of annoyance. “Anyone ever tell you how much of a bitch you can be?”
“Not to my face,” laughed Annie. “At least not if they know what’s good for them.” She added just a hint of steel to her voice, a challenge waiting to be accepted. Hazel glared at Annie, ready to pull the claws out, when Glenn stepped in before the discussion could escalate.
“Things aren’t exactly the same as they were back in the old days, Annie. I woke up one day this way, as an incubus that draws vitality from sex. Unlike other Lust Demons, I am able to do so without having to kill my partner—which is normally what happens when a Lust Demon manages to catch you while you’re asleep. A Terror Demon, on the other hand, stalks their prey and gradually feeds them nightmares until they drive them insane. Once the mental faculties of their victims are sufficiently weakened, they move in for the kill by paralyzing them and bombarding them with terror until their hearts give out. They then drink up the life force of their killed prey, gaining strength and power.”
Annie settled down on the couch, her attention riveted to him as he explained his situation. Hazel likewise followed suit, enraptured by his story. He resisted the urge to sigh in relief, opting instead to give the answers that Annie so desperately sought.
“That’s basically how most demons operate, at least as far as I know. They each have their own ‘specialties’ which they use to disable their victims before finishing them off. Lust Demons jump you while you’re asleep, Terror Demons imprison you in nightmares. The others… I don’t know much yet. Like I said earlier, I don’t need to kill my victims—err, my partners—to draw vitality from them. I simply need to bring them to orgasm so I can skim from the energies they release.”
“Yeah,” Hazel chimed in with a nod. “And like I said too, Glenn is pretty damn good at what he does. He even has these cool new tentacles that makes the whole experience so much better. And I was enjoying those tentacles up until you came barging in and—”
“Haze, please,” Glenn replied with barely-restrained exasperation. “I appreciate the support, but maybe we can reserve this for another time? Especially considering that the nice lady still has a gun in her pocket?”
That little reminder got Hazel to hold her tongue, casting furtive glances at the slight bulge underneath Annie’s suit. The woman in question, however, ended up chuckling out loud.
“Nice lady? My, my… if I didn’t know better, I’d think that was a backhanded insult.”
“It wasn’t meant to be one,” Glenn retorted smoothly, trying his best to steer the discussion somewhere productive and less confrontational. “I’ve shared what I know about demons, just as you wished. What else did you want to know?”
Annie stared at him in silence after he asked his question. Glenn got the distinct impression that she realized what he was trying to do, how he was trying to head off any confrontation before it got to that point. He did not, however, expect the next words to come out of her mouth.
“I looked for you, you know.” Glenn blinked, not quite comprehending the question. “I looked for Roger Hill the moment my father died, when he couldn’t reach out and have you cleaned up. I couldn’t find him. He practically disappeared from the world after graduating from high school. And here I find you through pure coincidence, wearing a different name, living a very different life. I mean, banging two women at the same time? And they like it enough to brag to me about it? What happened between then and now, Roger?”
Glenn half-expected Hazel to interrupt, find some way to shoot down someone she clearly had some beef with. She instead kept quiet, listening in rapt fascination.
(Good boys do what they’re told, forget what they’re told to forget. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?)
He winced as the familiar pain shot through his head once again, growing in intensity each time he tried to remember his past. This time, however, he did not fight the pain. He acquiesced to it, not wanting to delve too deep into those memories. There was just this part of him that wanted nothing to do with those old reminiscences, that quashed his curiosity.
“I’m… sorry, Annie. It hurts when I try to force the memories out. Seriously hurts, like my brain’s on fire when I try to push it.”
Annie scowled at his reply. She turned to Hazel, then to Glenn, then back to Hazel once more before settling on Glenn. “Hazel, was it?”
The lady in question matched Annie’s scowl before nodding curtly. “That’s right, Miss Rutledge. Hazel Thompson.”
“Right, right. Whatever. Has Glenn ever discussed his past with you?
Hazel looked up at the ceiling for a few moments, pursing her lips, before she shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“What if I told you that Glenn is actually a serial killer that’s wanted by the police for the murder of a dozen women?”
“Then I’d tell you to eat shit and go fuck yourself.”
Annie chortled at that. Sensing the joke, Haze chuckled along with her. The laughter died down after that as Annie sobered up, staring straight into Glenn’s eyes.
“What if I told you that Glenn here went through a lot of shit in his life—the kind of shit that would make a person want to change his name and do everything he could to forget his past?”
“That I’d believe.” Both Glenn and Annie shifted their attention to Hazel, who nodded in the affirmative. “I have my fair share of experience with boys, from the swaggering jocks and self-centered users to the overeager geeks and brooding emos. And let me tell you that Glenn here’s the people-pleasing type with a dash of old-school stoicism. He tries his best to cover his own issues up, put everyone at ease, but I am not the least bit surprised to learn that he carries a crap-ton of baggage around with him.”
Hazel scooted closer to Glenn, bumping her hips as she shot him a wry grin. “That doesn’t change the fact that he’s a completely lovable teddy bear, though.”
He would have noticed Hazel’s warm, dimpled smile if he had been looking at her. Instead, his attention remained focused solely on Annie as her lips curled upward in a smile—a familiar, malicious smile that always left trouble in its wake.
“Hmm. A lovable teddy bear, huh? Tell me, Hazel: is Glenn really as impressive in the sack as you say he is?”
“Oh, absolutely!” Hazel responded. “You should see him when he’s transformed into his incubus form—his schlong thins and thickens out to fit you perfectly, hitting all the right spots without it smarting. Let me tell you that megadicks are as bad as microdicks; they hurt like hell if the guy goes in too fast.”
“Haze, please, I really don’t think—”
Hazel continued enthusiastically, completely ignoring Glenn’s attempt at protest. “And then he has those two tentacles! He’s squeamish about butt stuff, but he’s pretty good at sussing out those spots that make me all weak and squiggly inside. And then he’s got this new thing going where he just makes you all cool and mellow, like a heal of sorts. You can keep going on and on and on and on—as much as you want!”
Annie’s smirk spoke volumes about how entertained she was by Hazel’s eager praise, especially when she began looking at him in an entirely new light.
“You know,” she spoke out loud, halting Hazel’s gushing about Glenn’s coital performance. “The man you know and the man I know seem to be two very different people. Roger was a complete bitch
who’d bend over for anyone, not a hint of bone in his spine. He even had a masochistic streak in him, getting off whenever I and a couple of the girls got around to stomping his dick in. He was the perfect toy to play with.”
Annie leered at him then, a malicious and evil grin spreading across her face as she turned to face Hazel. “The thing is, I don’t like sharing my toys.”
Hazel bristled at the challenge, narrowing her eyes to glare at Annie. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying that I want my toy for myself and myself alone,” Annie responded in a saccharine sweet voice, completely in contrast to the sharp glint in her eyes. “Especially if you don’t want your dear Mommy T and Mommy M encountering ‘difficulties’ in their lives.”
Hazel’s eyes opened wide now, her cheeks flush with anger and her mouth opening to rip Annie a new one. The CEO of Immentrop-Reubens Robotics, however, just sneered and waved her hand dismissively at Hazel’s face.
“Miriam Thompson’s struggling to sell her line of power suits, especially with women’s suits falling out of fashion. My connections are the only reason she’s on anyone’s radar right now. I don’t even have to say anything; even just switching to another line of suits would drive more than half your mother’s clientele away.
“As for Juliette Thompson… well. Let’s just say that she’s standing on some pretty shaky moral high ground.”
“What? What are you—”
Hazel’s eyes twitched away from Annie, clearly distracted by something popping up on her HUD. Her eyes refocused long enough to glare at Annie, who returned the glare with a wicked smile as she crossed her arms. Hazel grimaced before her eyes unfocused, concentrating on whatever she was looking at in her HUD.
Glenn, however, knew what Annie was doing—especially when he noticed Hazel’s defiance melt away into pure horror, her face turning white as a sheet.
“Annie, please. Don’t do this. There’s no need to hurt her this way.”
“Don’t I?” quipped Annie, still smirking as Hazel gawped, her eyes flicking back and forth at whatever she was seeing in her HUD. “Your friend here was ready to throw up a shitstorm just a few seconds ago. A little blackmail, a few veiled threats, and voila—all that unnecessary drama is gone. Isn’t that right, Hazel dear?”
