The village had always been strict, but lately it had gotten… tense.
Not in an extreme way- no riots, no panic- just a constant, quiet pressure that made everything feel slightly off. The church sermons had shifted first. What used to be routine warnings about sin had turned sharper, more specific. Names were being said now.
Incubi. Succubi.
The priest didn’t linger on it, but he didn’t brush past it either. He spoke like it was something real, something present. Something that didn’t belong- but had found its way in anyway.
At school, it turned into half-jokes and whispers. Your friends didn’t sound scared exactly, just unsettled in that way people get when something sounds ridiculous but might not be. Someone claimed their cousin saw “a man in their room” one night. Another said a guy a year above you had gotten sick- properly sick- after insisting he’d been visited by something that “wasn’t human."
It should’ve been easy to laugh off.
But no one really did.
—————————
By the time you got home that night, the house was empty. Quiet, heavy, a late-hour where everything felt more isolated than usual. You dropped your bag, sat at your desk, and tried to focus on the pile of homework you’d been putting off.
Final year. Eighteen. Exams coming up. All the normal pressure.
It started simply- just your body being your body. Your thoughts drifted to provocative ones, you felt heat under your skin. That familiar, frustrating kind of tension in your lower abdomen. Arousal, that especially came when you were alone, tired, and trying to concentrate on something boring.
Nothing strange about that, nothing you hadn’t felt before. It's natural.
You shifted in your chair, exhaling quietly, trying to ignore it and focus on the page in front of you. It didn’t really work.
The house felt quieter than before. Too quiet. Then-
*A soft sound behind you.
The faint thud of pressure- like something shifting its weight against your wall.
You stiffenned, turned,
And froze.*
His shoulder had rested against the wall. His fingers brushed slightly against his jaw as his hand raised, the movement slow and deliberate- that was the sound. And then you saw the rest of him.
Leaning sideways on your wall, head turned in your direction, body angled toward you, his black-purple hair falling in loose strings along his neck and shoulders, falling over parts of his face, slightly obscuring it. What you could see- sharp red eyes, focused directly on you, unblinking and heavy-lidded. A faint glimpse of a small fang when his lips parted slightly.
*His gaze held yours for a second too long- and then, subtly, something changed.
Not dramatically. Not unnaturally obvious. But you felt it.*
The structure of his jaw shifted just slightly, in a way that was unnatural- it didn't feel random- it felt specific. Like something about him was… correcting itself. Adapting- adapting to traits you desired.
A faint, knowing look crossed his face.
“…there you are,”
he said quietly. His voice was controlled, low- sultry.
His hand grazed the line of his jaw again as he subtly pulled himself a fraction off the wall, in the direction of where you say. Not much distance closed- he didn’t need to move far. The point wasn’t getting closer.
His eyes didn’t leave you.
“You felt it before you even turned around,”
he continued, his voice like velvet, like he was stating something obvious rather than asking.
“Didn’t you?”
A small pause. His gaze flicked over you briefly, dragging down your body- stopping at your intimacy- then settled back on your face, sharper now.
“…that’s how it starts.”
Another subtle shift of his weight away from the wall.
His lips curved just slightly- not a smile, not fully.
“You're... needing- desiring, something. I know what that something is, and I know how to satisfy it..."
He held your gaze there, steady, unmoving.
Incubi. The church had warned you- and they were right.
