"I'm sorry I killed you."
Those words veritably bounce around inside my skull, crushing the euphoric mood I'd just been in.
Dang-it, Lyden. She's a succubus! You knew that. Why did you just have sex with her? These thoughts flood through my mind, as I play over the last little while.
The sex had been fantastic, if short. Even now, knowing that my death is only a little ways away, I still feel great and energized. I'd thought that I would be exhausted and worn out after being drained by a succubus, but maybe it's more like a mosquito: They drain you, but you really don't feel it, until the itching starts.
Turning my head to look at her, I'm saddened to see a real tear slide from the corner of her left eye, and drop down to her ear. Once again, I'm shocked to see something I never would have expected. A demon crying? Over killing a mortal? Will wonders never cease. . .
Something in my heart tugs at me, and a strong desire to assuage her guilt comes over me, despite the sinking feeling in my gut. "At least I get to die with a beautiful view in my vision." I give a slight laugh before adding, "And I can even see you clearly."
I don't expect the response I get out of her. Almost faster than my eyes can see, she's up and standing five feet away from me. Her eyes are wide, and shock paints her features, while her mouth moves wordlessly.
"Are you okay?" I ask slowly. She looks like a dear ready to bolt. A part of my mind takes in her whole beauty, and I can't find a single flaw in her body. A sparkle at her bald snatch, tells me that even her clit must be pierced in this current guise.
"You. . . you're alive. . ." Her hand covers her mouth, as she continues to stare at me.
"Um, yeah," I reply confused. "I actually feel pretty good. I thought getting drained would make me feel weak and exhausted, but I feel like I could climb Everest without taking a break."
"But, how? I felt your energy flood into me when you came." Her legs seem to decide at that point to quit supporting her. "I know this feeling. . . . This life-force I'm now filled with. You should be dead.
Time slows as she begins to fall, and somehow I easily stand and reach her before she completely collapses. Catching her in my arms, she stares at me in newfound wonder and curiosity, as time resumes its usual pace. Her left hand slowly reaches up, and she palms my cheek.
"Are you real?" she asks me, and I can't stop the laugh that bursts forth from my chest, a deep sound that actually seems to reverberate through the open fields around us. There's no malice in my laughter, but pure joy. Not that long ago, I'd thought she wasn't real. "But how?" she asks again, and I realize that I'm not going to die. I don't know what's going on, but I know that I'll live.
I throw her into the air, and I'm surprised at the strength in my limbs. It's not that she's heavy; she likely weighs less than a hundred pounds. No, it's just that before the accident, I probably only could've lifted her off the ground; not throw her ten feet into the air.
I also catch her easily, as she lands lightly in my arms. Setting her lightly back on the ground, I look down at myself, and almost start laughing again. I'm still skinny, but I have more definition now. Not quite what you might call sculpted, but definitely toned. I can feel the raw strength in me far exceeds the muscle mass to support it.
And my cock! Holy Hanna! I've never been one of those guys that has to make jokes about how big my cock is to compensate for, well, anything, but I was by no means a monster down there either. I've always been comfortable with my manhood. Now I almost feel like I could play baseball with my pecker if I wanted to, and hit a homerun every time! Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating now, but it is bigger than it ever has been before, and that's while it's limp.
"What are you?" Angela asks me, and I look back to her, wondering about her question.
"What do you mean?" I ask in response.
"I mean, you were definitely human while you were recovering in the hospital. The amount of energy that flooded into me when you came was enough to feed me for a month, and kill you. By all rights, you should be dead, but. . . but you've changed." There's awe and wonder in her tone as she steps up to me and runs her hand along my chest.
"Maybe it's this place," I say, trying to come up with something to explain it. "Every time you. . . er. . . had yours, I was flooded with energy too." Despite what we'd just done, and the fact that we're both still naked, I have a hard time talking about her having an orgasm.
There is a twinkle in her eyes, as I stutter, but it turns quickly to confusion. "That doesn't make sense. The energy had to have come from somewhere." Her eyes examine me again, and I start to feel self-conscious as she ponders.
My underwear is nothing more than rags now, so I have to free-ball it as I pull on my pants and shirt. It's only now that I realize I've been moving without the aid of the crutch. I feel better than at any other time in my life, and I find I keep chuckling to myself, truly happy for the first time in a very long time.
"I may know someone who might know what's going on," she tells me hesitantly. As I look at her, I watch in amazement as her clothes materialize around her.
"What's wrong?" I ask, sensing something in her tone, despite my shock of seeing what I can only refer to as magic. My world isn't the same anymore.
"Nothing," she tells me, shaking her head, and I know she's lying, but something tells me not to push it. "We should get you home for now. There's no telling how much time has passed in your world."
"My world?" I ask as I follow her lightly back to the tree we rode up in.
She slows, and twines her fingers into mine as she smiles at me. "The world we're in now is a shadow of yours. In many ways it mirrors Earth, but because it's only a shadow, it's more malleable."
"And this is where you live?"
"Many of us live here," she says blandly.
"More succubusses, er, succubae?" I have no idea what the plural for succubus is.
"Succubae," she tells me. "And more than just other succubae. All the creatures from your myths and legends. Those that were persecuted by the humans, and driven from the world we used to share." Despite her words, I don't sense any chagrin in her tone.
"We persecuted you? I thought those creatures fed on humans," I say, feeling defensive.
She laughs before answering. "Of course. The victors always write the history books. Yes, some did feed on humans, but not all of them. That's like saying that humans are all murderers, because a few bad apples are."
That makes sense, but something about the way she'd said that. . . "You weren't around when it happened."
"Ha! No, I wasn't even a mortal back then. That all happened well over a millennia ago."
The bark of the massive oak tree separates, and we step into the elevator, before I ask, "Do you remember how you became a succubus? I mean, how you lost your mortality?"