Page 16

Chapter 16

The Dead Come Talking

brIAR - FOREVER AGO

M y stomach hurts.

It’s the only thought in my mind. I can’t even remember my name.

All I can conceptualize is that my stomach hurts.

“Awaken, demon,” a gruff voice shouts. “On your feet.”

Demon? Is that my name, then? It’s not very pretty.

I pull myself to my feet, my eyes adjusting slowly to the room I’m in.

The home I’m in.

It’s cozy, with several plush places to sit in the large room I’m in the middle of. I don’t know how I know this, but I can tell that this is the home of someone with a decent amount of money.

A man sits at the table, wearing black from his head to the floor, only showing the peachy pink skin of his scarred hands.

“To me, demon,” he barks. I scramble across the room, stopping in front of him.

I can’t see his face in the blackness of his hood.

“Welcome to your new home,” he says in that dark voice of his. It feels like it’s coming from everywhere and nowhere. “This is where you’re going to live from now on.”

“It’s a nice home,” I say, resuming my perusal of the space. “Why are you giving me a home?”

“I’m not giving you anything. You earned this.”

A broad smile crawls across my face. “I did? Wow. I can’t remember anything, but I must’ve done something good.”

“You’ve done something, alright. Tell me what you remember.”

His tone is harsh, and I can’t deny him an answer if I tried. “My stomach hurts. And I think it hurt before I got here. I don’t know my name. I don’t know what I look like, but I have pale skin. And,” I pull a strand of my long hair, “purple hair? That’s certainly odd.”

I think he’s watching me as I speak, but I can’t be sure since I can’t see his eyes.

“What else?”

“Nothing. I have this vague feeling of loss, but that’s it.” It’s a little more than vague, but I’ll keep it to myself. I feel like a part of me has been removed and scattered around the universe. Something vital to my existence is missing.

The man folds his hands together, resting them on the table. “Your name is Briar. You are an ancient demon called a succubus.”

“That’s a pretty word. Succubus.” As soon as I say it, warmth washes over me, and I know it to be true. “What does it mean?”

“It means you feed off of lust through blood, sex, dreams… it’s such a nasty habit, and you went too far this time.” His voice is harsh, and my already queasy stomach drops. “You killed someone, someone important, which is why you’re here.”

“This … this is a prison?”

“It’s not just any prison. It’s the ultimate prison. You will not age. You will not die. This is your eternity.” He reaches across the table, grabbing my hand. “And if you’re not learning your lesson, we’ll start it over again.”

He pulls his hood down, and I am shocked by how beautiful he is. When my eyes are drawn to his, I notice how red they are, like fresh blood.

And everything goes dark.

* * *

My stomach hurts.

It’s the only thought in my mind. I can’t even remember my name.

All I can conceptualize is that my stomach hurts.

“Awaken, demon,” a gruff voice shouts. “On your feet.”

Demon? Is that my name, then? It’s not very pretty.

I pull myself to my feet, my eyes adjusting slowly to the room I’m in.

The home I’m in.

“I don’t have the time today. Come.”

I stumble across the home and find a man sitting at the table, wearing black from head to floor, his pale, scarred hands sticking out from his sleeves.

“Who are you?”

“Fuck, I always forget how annoying this part is,” he mutters.

What part?

“Have we met before?”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Hundreds of times.”

“Why?” My voice sounds strange. Is this my voice? Is this who I really am?

“Doesn’t fucking matter, you won’t remember this conversation, anyway. I have to spend my energy resetting your memory and the spell because a human was stupid enough to stumble in here.” He takes a pouch off his waist and sets it on the table before pulling several small items from it: crystals, tiny bones, and rocks.

What’s he doing?

“I knew there was a risk of one coming across you, but I figured with your unfed bloodlust, you would drain them dry. But no, you managed to bond them to you as a Complement.” He’s talking to himself with no concern about if I hear him at all.

I don’t understand everything he’s saying.

Wait - was he serious about me not remembering this?

“How many times?” I ask, my voice shaky.

“What?” He doesn’t even look up at me.

“How many times has this happened? You coming here and erasing my memories?”

“I’m not erasing them in full.” If I could see his eyes, I bet he’d be rolling them. “I’m just altering them a little before I give them back. And twelve. But really, that’s not bad considering how long you’ve been here.”

My stomach cramps, and I lower myself into the chair across from this dangerous man. “How long have I been here?” I’m afraid to know the answer, but I can’t stop myself from asking.

An unseen smile warps his voice into something from my nightmares. “Seven thousand, five hundred and twenty-two years.”

My head is spinning. I feel faint. How can anyone live that long? What did I do to deserve this?

“I suppose you won’t tell me why I’m here?” I say weakly, knowing he won’t answer.

“You made enemies, Briar. Important ones. When you found your Complements, you became too powerful. We had to prevent that from happening again.” He’s arranging the bag’s contents into a strange symbol on the table.

“My Complements?”

“The people who temper your powers and help you channel them. Every succubus has one, but for some reason, you had two. When you bonded with both of them, they anchored your power. You went from being chaotic and wild to a honed weapon.” He stands up and looks at the symbol from above. “I couldn’t have a weapon like you out there messing up my plans, could I?” He tsks and looks up at me.

Or, I think he does. I still can’t see his face.

“Killing the Complements was easy, but you could always find another. It’s not like it’s just one person. It’s an emotional bond, a choice you both make. But the fact that you can bond two Complements? I can’t let that happen.”

“So this is about power? You didn’t like that I was more powerful than you?”

He slams his hands on the table. “No one is more powerful than me! No one! But you are a liability. And so I took care of the problem.” A scarred hand sticks out of his sleeve, and he moves it in jerky motions over the symbol on the table.

“Why not just kill me?” I shout. Tears are running down my face. I lost someone. Two someones, that were important to me.

I have been in this place for millennia.

“Just because I need to remove a weapon from the fight doesn’t mean I won’t keep it in my back pocket.” He throws his head back, shaking the hood off. “Now, Briar, it’s time to forget.”

He slams his hand down on the symbol, and everything goes black.

* * *

My stomach hurts.

I open my eyes, and all I see is red.

Red all around me.

Sticky red on my face and hands.

Sticky red on the floor around me.

I sit up slowly, my body stiff and foreign.

What the fuck happened?

When I push my back against the wall to hold myself up, and I get my first glimpse of the room, I scream.

In the middle of a pile of blood is the beautiful, dark-skinned traveler who stumbled into my fairy circle three days ago. His eyes are lifeless; his throat is nearly ripped out.

What did I do?

What the fuck did I do?

We were friends!

Why can’t I remember his name? I remember talking to him. He slept here. He kissed me. He touched me.

He made me feel like a person. Like I was worth something.

What did I do?

Why am I like this?

I don’t wanna be like this. I don’t want to be a fucking monster.

I thought I was doing okay. I felt okay. I felt like I was keeping it together.

But I must’ve blacked out and gone into a frenzy because the evidence is right in front of me.

He’s dead, blood pooling beneath his mutilated body. Coating my hands and chest. Clinging in my hair from where I collapsed into it.

But I don’t feel flush with magic like I should. I feel drained.

There is a gaping hole in my stomach, screaming for food.

My hindbrain reminds me that I do not know when my next meal will come.

That I can’t save my friend, and letting all of this food go to waste would be a travesty.

My stomach hurts.

Am I really going to do this?

I know I was hungry before, but I wouldn’t have lost control like this, would I?

I grab his body, pulling it through the puddles of blood that I’ll collect into glasses later, and hoist him into my lap.

My stomach hurts

Tears fill my eyes as I lower my mouth to his throat, latching on however I can and start pulling what remains of his blood into my mouth.

Maybe I deserve this prison, after all.