by Mac Flynn
Chapter 8
I didn't get much sleep that Friday night as I researched ways to free myself of his influence. My only leads were for some gypsy woman downtown who worked on the side as a caterer, and a clown who advertised himself as a cure for poltergeists. At the early hours I collapsed on the couch, defeated, and somehow slipped into slumber. Maybe it was the physical exhaustion from my sexual escapade, or maybe it was the mental weariness, but whatever it was I was awoken by a loud pounding on my apartment door. I sat up and realized I lay on the couch with a plunger in one hand and another empty pop can in the other. The pop can was the remains of my effort to stay awake, and the plunger was the only weapon I owned.
There came another round of pounding at the door. "Liz? Liz, you in there?" Tiffany called from the other side.
"Yeah, one sec," I replied. I tossed aside my strange assortment of weapons and stimulants, and hurried to open the door.
Tiffany stood on the other side with a worried and vexed expression on her face. "How come you didn't answer sooner?" she asked me.
I shrugged. "Because I just woke up?" I told her.
She glanced down at my ragged clothes. I still wore the same alley-filthy outfit as last night. "Why didn't you change?" she questioned me.
I looked down at myself and sheepishly grinned. "Um, because I was-um, busy?" I suggested.
Tiffany crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Those were the warning signs that told me she was going into her mothering mode. She rarely entered this mode, only when she thought I was being stupid and reckless enough to need someone to rein me in. This happened about once every blue moon, so I was a little cowed by her grim, stern face. "Busy doing what?" she wondered.
"Um, research?" I admitted. There was no use hiding the truth. She would worm it out of me through her Evil Eye.
"Research on what?" she persisted.
"On-um, on incubus?"
"Why?"
"Because."
"Because why?"
"Because I think that's what the guy is who I've been obsessing over."
Tiffany's face fell along with her mouth. "What the hell are you talking about?" she asked me.
I sighed and stepped aside. "It's a long story, so you may as well come inside," I invited her. Tiffany walked in and made herself comfortable on the couch. I sat down beside her and kicked aside the plunger on the floor. "Last night when I told you I thought I went into a store following that guy, I really think I did go in there. I met him in the back corner, and we-well, we made love."
Tiffany's eyes widened. "Seriously?" she asked me.
I gave a nod. "Yeah, seriously. He told me he was an incubus and that he was immortal."
Her eyebrows went so high they disappeared beneath her bangs. "Uh-huh, and then what?"
"Well, we made out and I woke up in the alley with you calling my name," I finished.
"So you-you really think this guy's a succubus?" she wondered.
"An incubus. Succubus are the girls," I corrected her.
"So you really think this guy you're obsessing over is some sort of a demon?" she rephrased.
I cringed, but nodded. "Yeah," I replied.
Tiffany looked at me a moment longer before she stood and offered me her hand. "Come on, we're leaving."
I blinked at her. "Leaving? Why?"
"You need to go see a shrink, or at least get your blood checked to see if you've been doing drugs," she explained.
I scowled at her and jumped to my feet. "I am not insane and I don't do drugs! I really did meet him there, and he really did tell me he was an incubus!" I argued.
"I know, and that's why you need to go see a shrink," she insisted.
She patted me on the shoulder, but I brushed away her hand. "I am not making this stuff up, and neither is my brain. I really did see him pass by our window at the restaurant, and I really did meet him in that store by the alley." My eyes lit up as I recalled my late-night discovery. "Here! I can prove he touched me!" I brushed away my hair and turned so she could see the mark.
Tiffany leaned toward me and squinted her eyes. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"
"The mark! The mark on my-" My fingers brushed against the spot and I felt only soft, unblemished skin. I frowned and frantically pressed my hand against the entirety of my neck. Nothing. "It was there last night! Kiss marks from where he'd marked me!" I insisted.
"Liz, there's nothing there," Tiffany told me.
I hated the gentle calm in her voice. It was as though she was treating me like a child, or an insane adult. I was neither, but I didn't exactly take her doubt maturely. I jumped to my feet and pointed at the door. "Out!" I ordered her.
"Come on, Liz, don't be like that. I only want to help you," she countered.
"No, you're trying to relocate me to a padding cell and exchange my wardrobe with a white jacket, now out," I insisted.
"Liz, I'm being serous-"
"So am I, now out." I shooed her toward the door and she reluctantly backed up.
Tiffany stepped out into the hall, but stopped and frowned at me. "Fine, have it your way, but you'll regret it!" she proclaimed.
"Uh-huh, I'll call you after my madness is over," I promised as I shut the door.
Her hand came out and grasped the side of the door before I could shut it, and she peeked her head inside. Gone was the angry looks and back was the pity party. "Seriously, call me later," she pleaded.
I sighed and felt a little bit of my anger and frustration drain from me. "I guess, but not until I figure a few things out, like how to get out of a straight jacket," I told her.
Tiffany snorted, gave me a thumbs up, and walked away. I closed the door and leaned my back against the entrance. What a great start to a day. I slid my hand down my face and groaned. Maybe Tiffany was right, maybe I was hallucinating. If anything these were some great hallucinations, but my mind couldn't shake the thought that what I knew was real and the rest of the world was nuts, or at least not believing the truth.
Well, with knowledge comes truth, and I stocked up on knowledge about these incubus monsters and the rest of my day was spent researching incubus. All I found was more of the same. They were horny demons who came to people in their dreams to have sexual intercourse with them. Not much more than that, and very few remedies against their attacks. There was the usual wearing-a-cross suggestion, but I didn't have one so I fashioned a cross out of a couple of toothpicks and glue. Not too convincing, but maybe it would keep him from killing me from pleasure.
Another suggestion was using wafers or holy water, again neither of which I could find in my cupboard. Well, wafers, yes, but not the kind I really needed, physically or spiritually. However, I did know of this large, ancient church with a cute old graveyard around it that might hold what I was looking for. I decided my soul was worth risking a chance at thieving some holy water, but wafers were out of season.
