Page 4 of Unbinding the Demon

Heavy grey clouds loomed over the valley, shedding their mournful tears generously over the slumbering land. I was snuggled up in bed, gazing out through the window at the dark and dreary morning with vacuous eyes. Raindrops pitter-pattered upon the angled roof to create a serene showering melody. Tiny beads of water pelted down upon the branches of the old towering maple trees, causing them to quiver as the droplets gently rolled off and fell to the lush grass below. Scarlet had begun to bleed into their green leaves, adorning each one with a charming autumnal ombre.

The sound of wind chimes rang through the air as my phone played a whimsical wake-up alarm. I suppressed the urge to throw it across the room. Falling back asleep had been an unsuccessful and miserable endeavor. No matter how hard I had tried, I just hadn’t been able to stop my mind from replaying that wacky dream. With a sigh, I slithered out of bed, dreading the fact that I’d have to start the day in such an exhausted state.

I stroked the sleepy kitties in between my efforts to shimmy out of my nightshirt and panties. Pepper Paws yawned while stretching out his cute little jellybean toes, ready to start the day. Esquire, however, peered up at me with big sleepy yellow eyes, then fell right back asleep.

Despite being home alone, I wrapped my naked frame in a fluffy blue towel for modesty and headed downstairs to the bathroom.

My bedraggled reflection appeared in the bathroom mirror, and I internally shuddered. Bold dark circles hung under my sleepy green eyes and stood out terribly against my pale complexion. It looked as though death had come and sucked the life out of me in the dark of the night. I tried not to stare too long and pulled my hair out of my messy bun, letting its long length unravel down to my butt. I brushed it out and combed my shaggy bangs down.

The trippy octopus shower curtain screeched against the rod as I pulled it back and turned on the hot water. I stepped beneath the steamy cascade, letting each droplet warm my skin. Taking my time, I began daydreaming about the dream while washing away the evidence of the pleasure it had given me. My teeth bit down on my lower lip as I giddily recalled his huge demonic frame flexing above me, the firelight creating an erotic chiaroscuro of muscle and masculinity.

Tiny beads of water clung to my black fingernails as my hand slid down my sudsy stomach mischievously. A silent yet breathy gasp escaped from my lips as I found my little bead and rubbed slow, sensual circles over it. My other hand glided up to play teasingly with my taut left nipple, making me wilt with pleasure against the white tile wall. Heat fluttered in my lower abdomen as I recalled the feeling of complete fullness he’d given me. The way he had furiously pounded into my womb with unbridled carnality. His deep, breathy voice growling and groaning into my ear. The crescendo of our passion... My fingers began to work their magic all the faster.

Oh, fucking fiddlesticks yes ...

I breathily inhaled a gasp of the steamy air, spreading my legs while dipping my fingers into my core, the slickness from my arousal glossing my hand. I let the water pour over my throbbing clit, making my hips unwittingly buck with desire. My eyes closed, and my legs began to tremble and stiffen. The urgent need for release rapidly grew within me. The long dark strands of my hair clung to my back and left shoulder as I finger-fucked myself, imagining the dream demon dominating the living daylights out of me once more.

I was teetering on the brink of my climax, the torturous yet intoxicating build-up promising it would be one to remember. But then that strange sensation crept over every inch of my being once again, making me feel almost certain that I wasn’t alone. I slowly stopped my dalliance with my digits and reopened my eyes, warily shifting my gaze around. The feeling was downright suffocating and impossible to ignore.

What the hell?

My hand fumbled for the silver knob as I shut off the water. Then, quiet as a mouse, I slowly dragged the shower curtain back a few measly inches and peeked out. The bathroom was empty, with the old-fashioned sink still cluttered with Lacey’s makeup, red curtains pushed open to reveal a view of the rainy backyard, a variety of little potted succulents lining the dusty windowsill, and... the distorted face gazing back at me through the foggy mirror!

Oh wait, that’s just a reflection of the Frank-N-Furter poster William hung on the door.

“For fuck’s sake,” I grumbled while stepping out of the shower like an angry drowned rat, feeling utterly ridiculous and robbed of my orgasm... Hopefully, I’ll feel better once I have some caffeine coursing through my system.

The kitchen had been ransacked of all caffeinated beverages. So there I was, surrounded by the sweet and nutty scents of roasted coffee beans and freshly baked pastries, staring blankly at a cute handwritten menu board. “Welcome to The Sweet Birch Café” was written in fancy cursive lettering across the top, and that was about as far as I’d read. My lack of sleep had been swift to catch up with me. I must have looked like some magic seer trapped in a vision-induced trance, struggling to keep my eyes open while staring at the dang thing. Thankfully, the place was practically empty except for a handful of people having breakfast, so I wasn’t too worried about holding up the line.

A cute guy with long blond dreads emerged from the back holding a sleeve of to-go cups with green mountains on them. “Are you ready to order yet?” he flashed me a charming smile while setting the cups down.

“Yeah, I think I am,” I lied, having no idea what I wanted since an espresso I.V. drip probably wasn’t on the menu. “I’ll take a, um, a... uh, a London fog and a fruit cup, please.” The corner of my mouth lifted in a sleepy half-smile.

“Sounds good.” He winked with a flirtatious smile, and then turned to go make my stuff.

I pulled my black denim jacket, which was ostentatiously decorated with band patches, a little closer around myself, and awkwardly glanced around the room. It was a quaint mom-and-pop type of place, with small potted flowering plants on the rustic tables and various pictures of chickens on the walls. I made accidental eye contact with some random guy just as he stuffed an oversized bite of pancakes into his mouth. I quickly averted my gaze by peering into a shadowy room in the back.

The more I stared into the darkness, the more it felt like something sinister was hidden there. Something that was staring back at me with malevolent eyes just beyond the looming silhouette of a ratty old mop bucket. My heart rate sped up, and my breathing became shallow. I nervously swallowed, feeling an irrational sense of dread.

“Excuse me, miss?” A male voice came from behind me, ripping me out of my trance-like state.

My trusty black boots squeaked against the polished wood floor as I spun around with a spook. There was a tall, slender-built man in his mid-forties standing there with a coffee in his hand. A wide smile stretched across his long, thin face as he gazed at me with genuine-looking warmth in his buggy hazel eyes. His neat black clothing and clerical collar gave away that he was a priest.

“Yes, can I help you?” I replied with a smile. Secretly, I wished I could ask him to leave me alone. Lack of sleep had me feeling rather grouchy, and I was not in the mood to converse with any new people.

“Forgive me, this may sound like a rather odd question coming from a stranger, but are you, by chance, the niece of Elowynn Gallagher?” he asked as he ran a slender hand through his short, dirty-blond hair.

“Yes, I am, actually.” Another polite smile forced its way onto my face. I had already gotten that question from a few members of the school faculty, so it wasn’t a surprise.

His smile grew wider. “Ah-ha! I thought so! You bear a striking resemblance to her. My name is Father Adelstein. I offer you my condolences; I was a dear friend of your aunt. We did lots of research and other things together. I was overjoyed when I heard you would be coming to school here in Sycamore Valley.” His eyes gleamed with delight and mirrored the excitement he spoke of.

“London fog and fruit bowl,” the guy behind the counter announced while lifting my stuff up before placing it down.

“Oh, um, I have to go pay. I’ll be just a moment, please.” I held up a finger and turned to retrieve my order.

Some cheesy-sounding choir music softly played from within Father Adelstein’s pocket. He pulled his phone out and gave it a quick glance before silencing the thing. “Actually, I’m terribly sorry, but I’m running a bit late this morning and must be going. It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Gallagher. I’d love to chat at some point. Please do stop by the church anytime.” His smile was now apologetic but still very kind.

“It was nice meeting you as well, Father. Have a wonderful morning.” I smiled and waved goodbye before completing my transaction. Thankfully, I didn’t have to interact with him too much because he left just as quickly as he came.

I sat in a small cushioned booth next to a window that overlooked a large duck pond. Little bead-like droplets streamed down the foggy glass, distorting my view like a flowing kaleidoscope of gloom. Tall cattails and lily pads lined the water’s curved edge, surrounded by a few well-spaced sweet birches and sugar maple trees. The raindrops softly fell across the pond, compelling hundreds of little ripples and splashes to whisper across its silvery surface.

I slurped at my steamy drink while gazing out at the little feathered bodies paddling all around. It would have been nice to sit on a bench outside, but the weather wasn’t going to allow it today. So I smiled to myself instead, distantly watching as their fast flipper feet flapped around in the muddy puddles, happily shaking their cute little curved tails and shoveling through the soggy ground with their quacking bills.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the movement of a large dark figure slipping into the booth across from me. I pried my gaze away from my duck-watching and glanced over in confusion to see who the bozo was that had just barged in at my table uninvited.

“Good morning, Buttercup.”

My eyes practically popped out of my skull ... Oh, fuck no. There he was, Mr. insanely good-looking with no sense of social boundaries, and he was smugly sitting right across from me— again . My cheeks started to burn up at the mere memory of the dream I’d had, then at the fact that I’d touched myself to the thought of sexy demon him this morning... Fuck, what the hell do I even say to this guy after that!?

“My name isn’t Buttercup.” The tone of my voice was far snappier than I’d intended, making me regret saying the words the moment they flew from my lips.

“Alright, sorry... Gwendolyn.” He mockingly put his hands up in a defensive manner and scooched a little further into the booth. “I’m happy to see you again. I had hoped that I would.” The most flirty smile danced across his full lips as he ran a hand through his long, silky locks. My heart flipped at the sight, and heat spread throughout my lower stomach.

Good grief, I’m a horny idiot...

“I’m sorry. I’m tired and didn’t mean to sound like that. It’s good to see you too,” I shyly smiled, trying to redeem myself.

Something I couldn’t quite place twinkled in his golden eyes. “Rough night, I’m guessing?” he chuckled with a perfect grin.

“I guess you could say that.” I tried not to blush— I definitely blushed.

A wicked smile curled upon his lips and a pleased expression fell across his features, as if he were proud of something he had accomplished. “I have a gift for you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and reached into his jacket, pulling out a small forest-green book. He slid it across the table in one fluid motion.

“Oh wow, thanks. What is this?” I was a bit surprised he had something for me, especially since we didn’t actually know each other... at all.

“It’s just some lady’s old journal.” He shrugged. “It might seem boring, but in it she writes extensively about a book that was bound in human skin. I thought it might offer some useful information for your essay.” He raised an eyebrow as though he were trying to analyze my reaction.

“Well, again, thank you. I’ll have to give it a peek and see if there’s anything I can use.” I thought it was strange that he cared about my essay enough to give me a book, but I couldn’t hold back my smile as I reached for it. I was just about to flick open the pages when a loud female voice called my name.

“Gwenny!” A head full of brightly colored unicorn hair came bouncing my way.

Oh, good grief...

It was Cassandra, the loquacious girl from my art class. I’d often secretly fantasize about using a large cork to clog up the non-stop rambling hole in her face. Before I could even get a “good morning” in, she began to spew her self-centered nonsense at me like an alpaca spitting on unsuspecting children having a picnic at the petting zoo.

“Hey, it’s so funny running into you here!” she greeted with an ear-grating laugh. “Ew, is that tea? Pumpkin spice lattes are back in season, you know? Have you started your still-life project yet? I have. Mine’s going to be really good, probably the best out of the entire class. Mrs. Chuong seems to really like me.”

“I’ve started—”

“Wow, you look really tired today, plus that dress you’re wearing doesn’t really flatter you. In fact, it’s quite ugly. You should look into better fashion choices. Maybe I should help you...”

She rambled on for about three more minutes, oblivious to the fact that I had begun ignoring her. I shook my head while stabbing at a strawberry with my fork, then glanced across the table as I bit into it. The guy was resting his chin on his clasped hands, amused by my torment.

One of his large hands stealthily slipped up next to the side of his head where she couldn’t see it; then he started making talking motions like a puppet, perfectly matching her word for word. I couldn’t help but laugh and smile back at him, making Cassandra realize that my attention wasn’t on her.

“Wait a minute, are you on a date?” She pointed back and forth between us, bringing my attention back to her.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, we are,” the man slyly replied, while glancing at me with a devilish smirk.

I abruptly choked on my tea. “I don’t even know your name!”

“No need to be so shy about our love, Buttercup.” He blew me a kiss and then turned toward Cassandra. “We’re so close that she lets me use her bra as a sleep mask to help shade my eyes from the bright morning sun while we cuddle in the nude and rub jojoba oil—”

“What the hell!?” I squawked like a panicked peacock.

“Alright, well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone then. You sure are cute together. Even though you’d be much cuter if you both got haircuts.” She judgmentally glanced up and down at the man’s very long hair, not having absorbed anything that I’d just said. “See you in class!” With a wave, she walked away with her Ugg boots clomping loudly across the floor.

“I hope all your friends aren’t like that.” He pointed at her from behind with his thumb. “If they are, please remember that there are dozens of suicide hotlines posted in the library. I could even get you one if you’d like?”

I wanted to slap the mischievous grin right off his handsome face. “She’s not my friend. And what the actual fuck? Why did you tell her that we were on a date and all that other weird stuff? I don’t even know you!” I gestured to where Cassandra had been in frustration.

“I thought it would be amusing. Turns out I was right,” he answered with a relaxed shrug, but merriment twinkled in his golden eyes. “Besides, who knows? Perhaps this could be a date?”

“Well, I didn’t think it was amusing at all! It was embarrassing, and she’s a gossip! And how could this possibly be a date? As I said, I don’t know you or even your name for that matter! Slipping into someone’s booth uninvited does not mean that you are on a date with them! This is not a date!” I snapped, my sleep-deprived grouchiness coming out in full force.

“So this, happening right now…” his long finger lazily pointed between us. “Isn’t a date? And you’re certain of this?” he asked in a low, pseudo-serious voice.

“Yes, of course I am! Don’t be ridiculous! This is one hundred percent not a date!” I angrily jabbed at the table with my finger.

Why am I getting so worked up about this?

Deep laughter rumbled from his chest as he slowly stood up. I gulped while his towering figure loomed above me, giving me a good reminder of just how scrawny I was compared to him. Good gods is he tall...

I felt like cornered prey as he predatorily circled around to my side of the table, mischievously eyeing me with some sort of perverse hunger. The seat dipped while his large body sank down way too closely next to mine. His sinfully delicious fire and spice scent clouded my senses, and heat radiated off him like a heat lamp. Butterflies began fluttering around my stomach, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to go away or smother me with his big sexy frame. He brushed my long side bangs behind my ear and leaned in close enough for me to feel his hot breath on my skin. The tips of his fingers left an electrifying feeling on my temple, and a shiver ran up my spine.

“Well, I’m disappointed that this isn’t a date, but you’ve made your point perfectly clear. To save you from any further embarrassment, I’ll make sure that no one else here has the wrong idea,” his voice rumbled in my ear, causing my eyes to grow wide and shift around.

He abruptly stood up and clapped his hands twice. “Everyone, may I have your attention, please!” his bellowing voice boomed throughout the café. The seven other people having breakfast turned and looked at him in confusion. My mouth dropped open in horror.

He can’t be fucking serious...

“I would like to inform everyone here that myself and this beautiful young lady...” He gestured to me with an elegant sweep of his hand. “Are, in fact, not on a date. I repeat, we are not on a date and she is quite certain of it. There is, however, some further information regarding our relationship involving a bra, jojoba oil, and a book made of human skin, but I cannot disclose any of that at the moment. I hope I’ve cleared up any confusion that any of you may have had. Thank you.”

Oh my god ...

I was completely mortified. I hid my bright red face within my hands as I shrank down into the booth. He softly chuckled while sitting back down, once again way too close for comfort. I couldn’t even look at him. His warm, muscular arm slithered around my upper body and squeezed me in a playful sort of side hug, causing me to blush even more. Whispered murmurs floated through the room, only adding to my humiliation.

“Oh, and by the way,” his lips grazed my ear as he spoke. “My name is Ashton.” Cold air replaced his warm body as he let go of me and gracefully stood back up. “I’ll see you around, Buttercup.”

I peeked up through my hands just in time to see him blow me a kiss with the biggest, most mischievous grin plastered on his stupidly perfect face. He then walked out of the café, leaving me flustered, embarrassed, and alone.

What the fuck just happened?

Once the crippling embarrassment finally wore off, I flipped open the book he’d given me. My eyes widened in shock, and I let out a little gasp. Written on the first page in familiar cursive handwriting was “Property of Elowynn Gallagher.”