To Know a Demon’s Heart

by Distorted_Flare

Summary:

A cold floor.
A sadistic smile.
An inevitable death.
The same loop, again and again.

Each time Alex wakes, he’s back where he started, trapped in a house with three sisters: beautiful, elegant and dangerous. Fourteen times he has tried to escape and fourteen times he has died. A prisoner, doomed to repeat the same day. But the deeper he delves, the more the lines blur. Beneath their hunger and cruelty lies a flicker of something forgotten: regret, longing... something almost human.

A chance encounter with a strange white haired woman makes him question his own believes.

Are all demons truly evil?

Chapter 1: Loop 15

Notes:

This is my first time writing something both on this site and for this granted very small fandom. I would love any feedback/ ideas for future ideas as well as any insight thoughts on the canon series. This chapter has been edited a few times the last month and as a result may at times feel different in tone and or have some mistakes. I ask for your patience and please point out any errors mistakes or fuck ups I make. Thank you.

A weak gasp escapes his lips as he looks up at the unnatural beauty straddling him. Her body radiates an unnatural warmth, skin impossibly soft. Her smile is gentle, yet edged with a cruelty that betrays its warmth. Her hips roll against his, in a slow and deliberate rhythm, drawing breathless moans from him. The pleasure is overwhelming, and he hates how he craves more.

She moans at his every whimper. Grinding harder with every twitch of his broken body.

Her eyes were impossible to look away from. Sclera as dark as the void, irises glowing bright pink, pupils shaped like hearts. They seemed to pulse like strobe lights, radiating lust and ravenous hunger.

His mind screams at him to move, to fight, to run, but his body refuses to listen. All he could manage was weakly moving his arms. Yet they only moved to caress her breasts even as panic coursed through the haze of lust.

With a bemused smile she caught his hands, her grip gentle but unbreakable. Fingers lacing through his. Mockery dressed as affection. She leaned in, her breath hot against his ear, lips brushing skin. She moaned for him to keep going. That he was doing so well. Despite her encouraging words and gentle grinding he felt his strength fading with each second that passed. 

He was dying.

Not from an injury or from any disease, but from her. From the way she rode him, draining his essence in waves of ecstasy that blurred the line between bliss and agony. Darkness pulses at the edge of his vision. He could feel his limbs growing heavy as her nails dug into his hands with a possessive need. 

She leans down, her lips pressing against his in a gentle passionate kiss. A warmth blooms in his chest but only for a moment. Just as quickly the heat seeps out as a bitter cold replaces it. His hands shake violently in her grip, yet she doesn’t relent. Her fingers tighten—like a Venus flytrap closing around a caught morsel.

His mouth opens as he tries to beg but all he manages is a pitiful dry rasp. 

“P-please,” he gurgles, twisting in her grip as she giggles, grinding against him with renewed intensity.

The last thing he sees as his vision ebbs is a bright blue light spilling from his lower body into her. His soul or the delusions of a dying man he doesn't know.

With a final, rattling gasp, his world goes black.

Alex’s eyes snapped open.

With a weak, quiet groan, he sluggishly rubs the bridge of his nose. The floor beneath him offers no comfort, its hard surface leaving his back aching. He exhales sharply, lazily arching his back from left to right. A few satisfying cracks echo through his body before he shifts with a grunt, pulling himself into a seated position. 

Morning light slips through the window behind him, filtered through pale blue curtains. His eyes flick around the room,  a small part of him silently praying for something to be out of place. A pen facing the wrong way or the chair to be slightly tilted. Anything to indicate that he wasn't right back where he started. 

Sadly the room was exactly how he remembered it from the last time he had awoken. A clock sat above his head, the hands lazily ticking away. Every tick is a cruel reminder of what awaited him when the hands reached midnight.

To his immediate left, a small bed rested against the wall. The wood splintered, a rich brown colour faded with time and use. A tanned, worn blanket lies coiled around his legs and waist, resembling an incredibly ugly serpent. He would say fire the decorator, but he doubted they were still around. 

To his right, stood a plain wooden desk. A singular book resting in the center. Looking it over had revealed nothing but the mad ramblings of a man whose mind had shattered.  The desk chair was basic and inoffensive . Not particularly comfortable but then again, comfortable wasn't a word that fit anywhere in this house.

The blue bin in the corner near the window held little of interest. A few scraps of papers with instructions and commentary from previous 'guests'. 

Everything in its usual place... as always.

Fuck

Alex twisted his body,  awkwardly fighting with the blanket as he tried to free himself from his entanglement. His right hand snakes into his back pocket, fingers rooting through the tight denim. With a bit of effort his fingers close around a small object. With a sharp tug he pulls it out, looking down at it with a mixture of loathing and frustration. 

It was a golden hourglass unassuming in appearance, that was until you studied it. Where a glass vial filled with sand should have sat instead held a twisted human head, Its eyes wide and piercing, mouth open in a silent agonising scream. This thing was the source of his torment and the reason for his current predicament. 

The first time he had seen it in the library he had thought it a lucky break. A rare golden artifact promising a pay day. Now... It was both his warden and his cell.

Every time one of those monsters in this house got him, the same thing would happen. His vision would go dark, death taking him. Then he would hear a strange electric hum followed by a gold light illuminating the darkness. In the end, he always woke up on the same cold floor, in the same room, at the exact same time.

9:15am. 

The first few times he awoke, he had been a mess. Cowering before them with tears streaking down his face, pleading with them to let him go. The humiliation those women had subjected him to, the pain and anguish as he died. It had nearly broken him several times. The trauma of it all felt like it was carved into his very soul. 

But now... fear lingered, dull and ever-present, but he was too tired to care. Resignation had sunk its claws in deep. So he lay there, staring at the cracked ceiling, listening... waiting.

“Fourteen times and I still haven’t made it out.” Alex chuckled darkly, lazily tossing the hourglass across the room. It spun a few times before striking the desk wall and vanishing. A few seconds later he felt the familiar warmth in his back pocket. The hourglass returned to its resting place. 

As long as he had the hourglass, he couldn’t die. In some cosmic, twisted joke, he couldn’t get rid of it either.

The ache in his chest wasn’t just fear anymore. It was frustrating. A quiet, simmering rage at himself and his inability to escape this hell.

Outside he could hear footsteps approaching. The subtle rustle of grocery bags. 

He knew what was coming. Yet in spite of that he could not stop the shiver that ran up his spine. The handle turns with a soft click as his door swings open.

A soft, sing-song voice cuts through the quiet “Morning. Did you sleep well?”

Myusca. 

Alex watched her cautiously as she entered the room with a bounce in her step. That same disarming smile and playful posture that hid the monster underneath. She looked like a twisted parody of a schoolgirl. Long black hair with a faint blue sheen, rich violet eyes, and a cream vest over her white blouse, finished with a red tie. Her figure full and exaggerated, and her smile carried a fake warmth that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

He didn’t speak.

She looked him over with a crooked little smile. “You’re not screaming. That’s new.”

Alex watched her, letting her talk, saying nothing. How he loathed her, her stupid entrance and need for theatrics.

“Ohhh, I like this type,” she mused, more to herself than him. “Cute and still in shock. Makes the breaking-in so much more fun.”

“Welcome to our lovely home. You’ll be staying for a whole twenty-four hours before I drain you dry~.” She finished with a sing-song voice, her eyes glowing with malevolent intent.

Behind her, the door creaked open as two more women stepped into the room. Their appearances were wildly different from Myusca’s, but they shared one unmistakable trait, that same predatory look in their eyes. 

The first woman was petite with white hair cascading in soft waves down her lower back. A decorative pink flower was tucked behind one ear. Her eyes were a sharp blue and gleamed with amusement. She wore a simple white blouse complimented with a pleated purple skirt. 

"Oya, you're awake?" she nodded with a coy smile, a hand resting on her hips.

The second woman was taller and fuller in frame. Long chestnut hair was tied into large braids. A simple green hair clip kept her bangs from falling over warm blue eyes. She wears a snug cream sweater that clings to her curves, paired with thigh-high black stockings. 

"Ara, I'm glad he's doing fine," Nemea  added, her voice soft, giving Alex a gentle smile that hid what lurked underneath her motherly façade.  

Their words faded into the background as Alex tuned them out. He had heard it all before. They treated him like he was a thing. Each voicing their own opinion on how they would devour him. How casually they dismissed him, in their eyes he wasn’t even sapient. 

He was simply a meal.

Their conversation was always the same. Myusca would give her little speech about how he had twenty-four hours to live. Then Vinum would sigh and tell her to stop wasting time and just eat him already. After their bickering and bantering had run its course, Vinum and Nemea would leave.

After a few more veiled threats and warnings Myusca would leave as well. Glancing back with that infuriating smug smile. She knew he was trapped. Knew he had nowhere to run. She still wanted him to try. The joy of seeing him fail an added bonus on top of eating him. Out of the three of them she seemed to revel in his suffering the most.

They were monsters, but Myusca was worse; she was pure evil. He didn’t just want to just escape anymore; he wanted to spite them. To beat them at their own game and humiliate them like they had to him time and time again. He wanted to see the look of fear in their eyes as he got the upper hand and put them down.

It was funny, in a bleak sort of way. When he’d picked up that hourglass in the library, he’d thought the solid gold might be worth a few quid. Something easy to pawn. It would have covered a few weeks of rent, maybe allow him a nicer choice of meals, something other than instant noodles and bargain meals for one. 

Instead, it had trapped him in a repetitive hell of mockery and torture. Every time he died, he awoke. Back in this damned room. Back on the floor. Back to the sound of Myusca’s cheerful threats.

The first five loops were blind panic. Their sadism had no end, just new lows. He tried everything: doors, windows, reasoning, begging. But the front door refused to budge, locked by magic. The upstairs window, though technically just one floor up, dropped like a cliff—more like six stories thanks to whatever foul magic they used on this place. And beneath them in the backyard, a beast paced like a sentinel. A manticore, a vicious demon with an unending hunger.

He had tried. God, he had tried. And every time he failed, they made him pay for it. They didn’t always kill him if they caught him though. They asked questions instead, playful, loaded ones.

"What are you doing out of your room?"

"Looking for something?"

Their tone always feigned curiosity, but their eyes said otherwise. It was never about the answer, it was about watching him squirm. Seeing if he’d trip over his own lies.

If he bluffed well enough, they let him go, amused. If he contradicted himself, the smile slipped into something sharper, and they dragged the truth—and his suffering—out slowly.

That was their game. Let him talk. Let him believe he had a chance. Hope was the bait, and he kept biting. Those five attempts were pathetic. He barely made any headway. Lasting the longest in loop five at nearly three hours. He had found a knife and had managed to find a pair of gloves though he had no idea what use they might have. 

He had gotten caught by Nemea and had been so exhausted from the stress that he had fumbled a lie.

She had leaned in her lips brushing his check and simply stated ‘you’re lying’ before dragging him into her room.

The next 5 loops had been different. Slightly Less panic, a bit more thinking. If he couldn’t die permanently, then he’d use that. Throw himself at this wall until something cracked. He memorized their routines. When they’d leave their rooms. What lies bought time. Where they kept things.

He managed to survive longer and made progress. He found a note in the trash can that helped him figure the door was only accessible to a succubus.

In Vinum’s room he read several journals that gave him information on summoning minor demons as well as how they could be killed via holy water.

He discovered a vial of Holy water in Nemea’s room hidden in a white cabinet.

He had discovered a panel in the kitchen that revealed a locked hatch with a 4-digit combination lock. Using the record function on his phone he had managed to capture Nemea humming the code. 3984 his new lucky number.

It felt like the pieces were falling into place. Even when he got caught or messed up his timing. He would wake up and set off again. Growing more efficient with each loop. He found a gun in the basement and managed to reduce an imp to ash with holy water.

But despite his thinking and planning coming up with the idea to use gloves and demonic ash on the door handle so he could touch and push down on it. He was still unable to escape. He could not find a key.

By loop thirteen he had been frantic, unable to face another agonizing death. He had searched the house dozens of times and yet nothing was turning up. With every ounce of courage he possessed. Alex had stumbled into Vinum’s room and begged her to help him. To his surprise, she had listened. He made his case, stuttering and pleading with her. Tears streaking down his face as he had promised to give her whatever she wanted. All he wanted was to leave.

With a malicious grin she had accepted his plea. But... not without a price. Nothing was free in this world. Her demand had been simple. Bring her a meal and in exchange she might see fit to give him a key.

She had asked him whilst he slunk out, if he could bear the weight of condemning an innocent man to death—just to save his own worthless hide?

He had been desperate… Worse, he had been selfish. He had waited until Nemea left the house to sneak into her room and use her computer. Ordering Pizza and with it selling his humanity for a chance at freedom.

He hadn’t felt guilt for the two men Myusca and Nemea brought back. They had been two thugs thinking they were getting an easy lay. He was pragmatic about their deaths. Let them stumble through the door, flirt with the devils, and die. It bought him precious time to get things done. In his mind, there was nothing he could do. If he warned them, one of the girls would simply kill him.

But the pizza boy… that was different. He’d purposely lured that guy here, knowing exactly what would happen the moment Vinum got hold of him.

The poor guy hadn’t been much older than Alex—maybe nineteen or twenty at most. Probably stuck in the same grind: crappy job, crappy apartment, just trying to scrape by.

All of that snuffed out because of one selfish action. Vinum had made sure he watched every second of it. She made sure he saw what his actions had cost someone else. And when it was over, she placed the key in his hand without a word, that same look of smug amusement on her face. Like she had proven a point on his worth—or lack thereof.”

After a cryptic hint that it might unlock something in the house. Alex had eventually discovered that it unlocked Vinum’s cabinet.

Inside the drawer he had found a mysterious gem shaped like a teardrop attached to a simple silver necklace. The jewel was a solid, unnatural violet, light dancing within the hollow core. The crystal was warm in his hand, a weak pulse hinting at unnatural properties.

But it didn't matter. Despite his attempts to figure out the crystal he had run out of time. The last few moments were spent frantically trying to find the key to the house. In the end, Myusca had cornered him in the downstairs toilet.

Her lips slammed against his, tongue forcing its way in as she let out a throaty moan.
She pulled back with a smirk, voice low and mocking as she cooed something in his ear.

His body convulsed beneath her, breath ragged, then abruptly stopped. She rode out his last heartbeat with a moan laced with wicked satisfaction.

Loop 14 had been his lowest moment. He’d woken up and simply... gave up. No plans. No desperate scramble. Just numbness. He lay on the floor for hours, not even watching the clock, just drifting in a fog of futility. What was the point? No matter what he did, the girls always killed him. And the loop would begin anew. Despite his body being fully rested his mind was exhausted. Why was he still fighting when the result would just be more pain and hurt. Why couldn’t he just die?

He didn’t think he had the energy nor the mental fortitude to plead for his life again.

Myusca had come in a couple times to taunt him. But quickly grew bored.

Alex felt restless looking at the clock and seeing 1:50pm. He could stay here and feel sorry for himself, or he could do something. Maybe he could find something to read. Something, anything, to keep his mind from spiralling again. Maybe find something that could help him. The library had always been a forbidden zone, but he figured if he was going to die again, it might as well be somewhere quiet. At least with Vinum, it was over quickly. 

Making sure the coast was clear he had crept down to the first floor. While exploring the library, he had lazily looked at a few books none of which he could read. But still he pressed on just a twinge of hope at maybe finding a solution. Whilst exiting one of the isles he’d stumbled into Vinum. The succubus had given a smooth oof bumping into him. Both of them looked equally surprised to see the other. Alex had flinched, waiting for her to use her charm to puppet his body.

But she didn’t.

She simply watched him with a curiosity simmering behind those ancient eyes, measured and silent. And then, instead of a quick brutal end, she had asked him why he was snooping in her library.

He had tried to lie. Saying It was Myusca's fault. That she had sent him here to get a book for her. Vinum had sat with a smirk listening to his excuses. Clearly not buying a single word he said.

He had expected her to kill him then and there. What he hadn't expected was for her to give a small chuckle.

 Vinum had sat herself down at a desk. She explained that Myusca finds books boring, that whenever she tries to read them, she falls asleep. Alex gave a weary nod. He had been proud of what he thought was a plausible lie that he had never stopped to consider that Myusca was an idiot.

He had come clean and explained he wanted to escape this place. He knew continuing to try and lie to her would only get him killed so what did he have to lose? Rather than being drained on the spot. Vinum had instead proposed a deal. A challenge, really: She would show him a book and hide it somewhere in the house. If he could retrieve it within the time limit she set, she would give him a reward. But then came her risk. if he brought her more than 1 book or the wrong one or he let the time run out. She would kill him. More so she would not defend him if one of the other two caught him.

After searching high and low and nearly getting caught by Nemea. Alex had returned with the book in hand. With a sly smirk she had handed him the key. She had let him in on a little secret as to why she even had a key.

She explained to him that hopelessness was boring. When an animal knows it is trapped with no escape they give up and that takes all the fun out of it. Though it wasn't her hunt she still enjoyed Myusca's antics and games to a degree. On the other hand, she continued, giving prey a chance to escape gave them hope and defiance which made the experience more interesting to watch.

She informed him that the key alone was still useless. He would need other items if he truly wished to escape. Vinum had expressed an interest in him. His attitude was unlike the usual simpering fools who cowered at their feet. He had a backbone, and she hoped he would prove himself to be craftier than the other dim wits her sisters played with. If only because watching Myusca throw a tantrum at her food getting away would almost be worth not getting to eat him herself.

It had clicked for Alex as he was leaving the library as to why she hadn't killed him. It was because he had entertained her. It seemed that Vinum craved an alleviation to the boredom so much so that she was willing to give hints and rewards to prey who entertained her.

It helped as well that he hadn’t provoked or bothered her today. No noise. No rummaging through her things. He had approached, by complete accident as a guest—not as a thief or vandal. When she wasn't angry, Vinum became... almost reasonable. Still dangerous and likely to kill him at the drop of a hat, but this was the first person in this house he felt he could have a conversation with. Though guilt did well up inside of him. If he could have gotten the house key by simply playing fetch. Maybe he could have convinced her to give him the gem without sacrificing that delivery guy. 

He still hated her and the other two. But it made him stop and question if he could escape using other means and methods. Rather than just collecting items in the hopes of breaking the magical seal on the front door.

He hadn’t gotten to test the key as he had been caught by Nemea a few hours later in the kitchen. She had walked in just as he was entering the last number into the lock to the basement. She hadn't listened to his excuses nor even slowed to hear him out. His clothes had been torn from him, and she had taken him there and then. 

Now he was here; fourteen attempts, fourteen deaths, and just enough stubborn resolve left to try for a 15th.

With a subtle shake of his head, he focused back into the room just as the girls were wrapping up their banter.

Nemea leaned toward Myusca slightly, “Ara. Don’t break this one too quickly. He looks interesting."

Vinum offered a faint smile, cold and amused. "Try not to play with your food too long Myusca," directing a smirk in Alex’s direction. With that, the two turned and left.

Myusca tilted her head, eyeing him with idle amusement. "You’ve been awfully quiet. Nothing to say? Most humans are babbling questions by now. Or crying and begging."

Alex didn’t give a response. 

Myusca waited, one eyebrow lifting when he still didn’t speak. “Really?” she huffed, the edge of her pout curling into a teasing smile. 

Still nothing. 

He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from cracking under her gaze.

“Aw,” she pouted, “don’t tell me you’re going to make this boring.” she whined, lightly stomping her foot in a huff. When he didn’t respond she paused her mini tantrum with a curious glint in her eyes. With a subtle blink she shifted her stance slightly. Almost as if she was reanalysing him. She lingered for a beat, an amused smile creeping across her face. 

After a tense second of silence she spoke up. "Oh right, I almost forgot. Here, some food for you." Grabbing a grocery bag from the hall she slid it across the floor with her foot, plastic crinkling against the wooden floorboards.

A mad idea crossed his mind. With slow rigid steps he approached the bag, Myusca pausing as she watched him suspiciously. Being this close to her made him shiver involuntarily. 

Reaching out he snagged one of the melon breads from the top of the bag. Retreating a safe distance back to his bed.  He pulled the wrapper apart struggling slightly with the awkward packaging. His eyes never left hers, Emerald clashed with amethyst—his defiance against her cruel amusement.

Normally by now, she would have given him a warning about exploring the rest of the house then left. But this time she was lingering, a spark of curiosity flashing across her features. He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not, but for the moment it was different. 

He bit into the bread. He had to give the Japanese their due, they made nice snacks. The bread helped to soothe his empty stomach. It was one of the few things in this house that felt real, no mind games, no twisted horror, just regular melon bread. 

Myusca blinked, then smiled wider. “Taking initiative. I like that.”

He chewed slowly, savouring it as his frayed mind worked. If I’m ever going to beat you, I need to stop rushing in blind. This time he needed to think this though, he wouldn’t scramble for a quick exit. He already knew their routines, their habits, their preferred method of sadism. He needed something more useful, something that would give him a clear advantage.

Demons had to come from somewhere a history or secret he could uncover. Maybe not in this room, but somewhere else in the house. The library was his best bet. If he could piece together even a hint of their past, he might find a chink in their armor.

Taking another slow bite Alex took a second to savour the bread. He watched Myusca closely refusing to break eye contact, a feat harder than it sounded. Everything in him screams to look away and not provoke her. But he forced those instincts down. This was a test, and it was one he intended to win even as she stared back unblinking.

Myusca, usually so bold and talkative, seemed to be watching him. A glimmer of curiosity on her face. He did not doubt that almost all her previous victims and he himself for a while had gone through a routine she was familiar with. Crying, screaming, begging, maybe even empty threats, and bravado. But calm silence, that was probably a new one for her. With a mental smirk he knew exactly how to trip her up.

"This is melon bread, right?" Even muttering those words felt exhausting. Something about these women caused his head to become fuzzy with fear and nerves whenever they were in the same room as him. But he refused to let it show, trying desperately to fight it.

Myusca blinked at the sudden question.

 "So, it does speak. I was afraid you’d gone mute after our little introduction last night." She giggled, the sound sharp and playful. "For a second there, I thought you'd try to hold out the whole day in silence. That kind of stubbornness is rare." 

She nudged the bag with her foot again. "And yeah, it’s melon bread. Can’t have you wasting away before tonight. Would ruin the flavour."

"Kind of an unusual choice.” Alex replied, trying to mask the way his voice wavered.

Myusca gave a shrug, appearing nonchalant. "I like the taste. I would spend less time worrying about the food and more about what awaits you come midnight" Alex caught the subtle twitch of her lip. Chewing thoughtfully, he gave her a slow nod in response. His heart was hammering in his chest as he tried to keep his face neutral. 

 Despite the fear and haziness there was a small glimmer of smug satisfaction in the way her eyes narrowed at his lack of reaction. 

Alex knew he had to be careful here, this was a dangerous game. If he pushed too far, she might decide to eat him now rather than waiting. She had done it before. But in spite of that risk, seeing her annoyed if only for a brief moment felt like a major victory.

She lingered a moment longer, watching him closely as if trying to suss out if he had mental issues or was just stupid. When he didn’t respond she let out a disappointed sigh.

"You be a good boy and stay put. Tonight, I’ll make sure to eat you nice and slowly...❤" without another word she left. The room returned to a quiet calm following her departure. A lull between storms, as Alex collapsed on the bed panting as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. Just that simple act of pretending to be calm had been exhausting. 

But it did give Alex something to reflect on. Had she bought his unfazed attitude? No... Hell a normal person could have seen how scared he was. But resisting and not showing her those emotions at the very least seemed to irk her slightly. 

She doesn’t seem to like it when someone doesn’t play into her little game. Might need to start doing that from now on. At the very least if she kills me, I can deny her the satisfaction of hearing me beg.

With a shaky breath he stumbled over to the grocery bags placing them on the table as he riffled through them. Inside as usual were a few small loaves of melon bread, a couple packets of crisps and a large bottle of water. Not exactly a buffet but it would keep him full for the moment. 

peeling the rapper further, he ate a little more of the melon bread and opened one of the waters. He drank it slowly, letting it settle the water soothing his cracked lips. He knew from experience that if he tried to wolf the food or water when his nerves were like this, he would just end up throwing up. And that was the last thing he needed. Especially with Nemea lurking just outside his room he didn't want to interact with them any more than he absolutely had to. Luckily, she only hung around for 5 ish minutes before growing bored and leaving. 

Alex stretched, casting a glance at the clock, 9:35 AM. Perfect, that gave him just over four hours before the library appeared at 1:40 PM. There wasn't much he could do before that except maybe grab a few items or snoop around one of the girl’s rooms. He would use the time to take a couple hour power nap. Setting an alarm on his phone as he lazily collapsed onto the bed. 

Let’s hope I can do this.

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading so far. I hope you are enjoying this and once again ask you give any feedback, comments or criticisms. I changed the Main characters name and race in this story. As he is a blank slate in the Game. He is not a self insert nor do I plan to make him a Mary sue. I want him to be someone you come to enjoy as he navigates the hell that is Succubus Prison but have him be smarter and more emotional at points.

Chapter 2: The Endless Library

What the hell am I doing?" Alex muttered, glaring at the idiot staring back at him from the mirror. The nap was meant to have got the brain juices flowing and what was his masterful plan? 

Sneak downstairs.  

Don’t get caught. 

Alex snorted, a mixture of disgust and bitterness “You useless prick .” 

His eyes flicked over his dishevelled clothes, haggard face and winced at the sorry state that looked back at him. Short black hair messy as always matted against his forehead. Green eyes sullen with bags under them. His face was pale, well paler than normal for a scot. He looked like a zombie, nah a zombie probably had more energy. A small chuckle slipped though his lips, On the bright side at least he wasn’t dead. Though wither that was a blessing or a curse depended on how much bullshit this loop put him though.

There has to be a way to win this. Surely there was a way he could outwit them. But how? They had magic, could control his body with their charm and seemed immune to weapons. Well the kitchen knife and gun in the basement hadn’t been any help.

When Vinum had caught him snooping she had forced him to confess to what he was doing. Cowed he had explained that he was trying to escape. She had laughed and gone through his belongings. Showing mild shock at the firearm she had snorted and commented on where he had found this. "Did you plan to use this on one of us?" She had questioned with a sly grin before waving her hand lazily.  Alex had felt his body move on it's own. Pointing at her and firing, 6 deafening bangs rang out.  He watched all 6 rounds hit her palm. A small part praying and hoping to see her topple over. For her confidence to be her undoing. But no, slowly, deliberately she held out her hand. All six rounds lay crumpled in her palm. A condescending smirk she had expressed how disappointed she was in how little progress he had made.

She flicked a finger and he was on his back a position he had been in several times now. No fight. No build-up.  His trousers were pulled down in one smooth motion as she climbed over him, eyes gleaming like she’d been waiting for this.

Then she dropped onto him.

It still hit like a truck. No matter how many times it happened, his body reacted the same way. His hips eagerly arching up to meet hers, mind going blank. It was addictive something you couldn’t resist even if you wanted to.

But only for a second.

Then came the pull.

It wasn’t immediate, instead it was slow. Like something being peeled away with every movement. His limbs twitched underneath her the pleasure making his toes curl and his fingers dig into the wood floor.  A whimper escaped his lips knowing what came next.

The bliss and pleasure didn’t stop. It changed, with every wave, he felt himself growing weaker, frailer, like something vital was bleeding off into her.

She didn’t say a word. Simply continuing to ride him, her hands resting on his chest not lovingly or tenderly. More like holding down a struggling animal before you butchered it.

It always ended the same way.

And he was always powerless to stop it.

Alex shook his head his mood turning sour as he felt helpless. 

“If I get caught I die.” 

“If I mess up I die.”

“If I fight back I die.”

 “If I do nothing then at midnight... I die!” 

A small part of him contemplated punching the mirror. If only so he could take his exhaustion and anger out on something that didn’t have bullshit Cthulhu powers.  

Yeah good thinking genius. Go ahead shred your hand and bleed out because you want to lash out. If I want to survive this, I need to stop reacting and start thinking. The library is the only place in this hell that might have the solution to getting me out of here. And if I want to get there I need to stay calm.

Closing his eyes, Alex inhaled—held—then slowly exhaled. Letting the tension seep out. 

Right game plan. Sneak past the bedrooms, get downstairs, get inside the library and somehow find a book that will help me escape or hopefully kill one of those women. Peace of cake. Alex paused, a bemused snort escaping him.

 Well other than it arguably being in the most dangerous part of the house and guarded by a petite psychopath. But hey what was life without a challenge. 

Checking the clock the hands showed 1:35 pm. A half hour ago Myusca had graced him with her presence. As always accompanied with the husk of the poor bastard she had lured home. Some tanned guy with blond highlights. Though the guy had never been polite or friendly. Hell even mocking him along with Myusca just before she guided him into her room. 

Alex wasn’t sure being a douche was a big enough crime to deserve being sucked dry like a capri-sun. Though he was sure people would argue. But he couldn’t risk it. Not like the guy would leave anyway. Hey man, the girl you want to bang is actually an evil soul sucking demon... yeah that would work. The guy would think he is crazy and it isn't like he could blame him. He wouldn't have believed it if not for everything he'd seen. Still it didn't matter if he opened his mouth they would both die.  

And, though mercenary in attitude. He couldn't deny that it benefited him, Myusca was far more forgiving and less malicious after she ate. So it was probably better not to interfere, even if the guilt nagged at him. Maybe once he figured everything out he could maybe help them escape. But not if it cost him his life. 

Though he couldn’t help but feel some guilt at the mercenary attitude he was taking with someone else's life. This isn’t who he is as a person. He felt desensitised to a degree. It bothered him but not enough to plague him the way it had. Sure he still felt guilty for the pizza boy but now that he knew how to get the key that dude didn’t have to die. But the other 2. How could he possibly save them? And more importantly was he prepared to risk his chance at freedom, his life for two guys he didn’t know? 

When Myusca enters his room to unceremoniously dump the corpse out his window. He still felt horror and revulsion at such a heartless display. He wondered if the act itself was another part of her game? An Intimidation tactic or maybe it was just laziness he couldn’t tell. And with Myusca being...Myusca, either was a possibility.

Alex pushed himself up with a tired groan. Finished with reflecting on his questionable mental state. All that mattered was getting to that library. If it turned out to be a bust he didn’t know what he was going to do. 

 Making his way over to the door. With a deliberate slowness he leaned forward, pressing his ear flat against the wood, pausing as he listened. At this time of the day Myusca would be in the bath, Nemea would be... eating, and Vinum would be asleep. The hallway should be clear. Still, it's better to be safe than sorry. 

Hearing nothing, he gently eased the door open. Wincing as the hinges squealed in protest. He felt like a teenager trying to sneak past his parents after curfew. Though as far as he knew. Parents didn’t devour their kids if they got caught. 

Looking out into the hallway he scanned the area for any signs of trouble.  To his left was a short dead-end stretch of hallway. On the right a small toilet, his allocated space for exploration. Beyond that, the corridor twisted sharply to the left. Chewing on his lip he crept forward pressing his body close to the wall. Reaching the end he poked his head. 

To his right Myusca room sat a few feet away. A shiver ran up his spine as he started to creep forward. Even knowing that she wasn’t there he still felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Her touch lingered in his mind. The sound of her laughter, both beautiful and cruel. Piercing red eyes and honeyed words that his body yielded to. Shuddering Alex averted his eyes, even in her absences it felt like her presence lingered behind that door.

To his left Vinum’s door. Vinum was the quietest and most dangerous of the three. Her cunning and ability to see through his lies made her a true menace when encountered. More so than the other two. His only saving grace was she spent most of the time either in her bedroom or the library. That and she didn’t seem as bothered about his wandering as the others.

The last door on the right was Nemea’s room. Behind the door faint noises slipped through. A mix of gasps and soft breathless moans that made his skin crawl. He kept walking. Nemea played the part of gentle caretaker, but under that motherly attitude was a cruel and cunning woman.

He continued to move slowly, taking precaution as he used his toes to test the boards before applying his weight. He mostly knew which ones to avoid. But he was no savant with memory and once or twice his confidence had gotten him caught. 

Following the hallway brought him to a left bend and then a short way further another left bend. Reaching the top of the stairwell he looked down. A short stairwell maybe 20 steps at most and yet it felt like he stood at the edge of a minefield.

With a small nod licking his lips. He made his way down carefully. If he was caught here there was no talking his way out of the consequences that would follow

 His fingers wrapped around the banister placing as much of his weight as he could onto it in the hopes of muffling his footsteps. The descent felt longer stretched by an uncomfortable tension growing in his stomach. 

He subconsciously toyed with the cord on his hoodie. “Right, you got this. Get in, grab some books and get out.”  

At the bottom of the stairs, the hallway split left and right in a T-junction. Straight ahead sat two doors. The toilet on the left, the bathroom on the right. From Behind the bathroom came the sound of humming, broken by the occasional sound of water splashing. Alex’s foot hovered over the next board a moment of hesitation.

Taking the final push he placed his foot firmly on the bottom step. Peeking left, listening for anything coming from the kitchen or living room. When he was confident it was clear he turned to his right. A plain door stood before him. Behind it, the Endless Library.

Pushing the door open the first thing he noted was the expansive darkness that swallowed everything but a lantern that sat on a desk to his left. The air was thick carrying a unique staleness unique to  old books. The Library was steeped in the smell of old leather and mildew. 

He had been in here a handful of times and yet he still found himself speechless. Like a scene from a fantasy novel. A quiet cathedral of forgotten knowledge. 

Alex went to grab his phone pausing as he patted down his pockets before cursing. 

"Fuck!" He had forgot his phone was still in his backpack. he got so use to grabbing it first thing after Myusca left that it had slipped his mind that he hadn't this time. Luckily Vinum kept a lantern on the desk.

Grabbing the lantern, he stepped between the towering shelves, moving with caution but aware of the precious little time he had. His heart was pounding as the lantern struggled to push back the gloom. The library seemed to stretch on for miles. The only comfort being the small gaps of light from the many doors equally spaced every hundred yards or so. 

 

The shelves were tightly packed, some leaning at odd angles, groaning and creaking under the weight of the books. Alex marvelled at the intricate beauty of the library. He wondered what secrets were buried here. Histories and cultures lost to mankind for millennia waiting to be rediscovered. 

He ran his fingers along some of the books. Their worn spines coarse, the dim flicker of the lantern illuminating the faded titles. Shadows danced across the shelves as he moved, dust particles catching in the light. He just needed a clue. Something that stood out. A fancy cover or  flashy title

If he could just find one titled "How to kill Three Murderous demons " that would be perfect.

Instead what he got were titles that radiated ancient malice— more than likely hiding secrets and dark truths not meant for human eyes. Twisted symbols, jagged lettering, and more than a few bound in covers that looked disturbingly human. 

And here he was, without his boom stick. He was on a role with the jokes today. If only one of the demons were around he was sure they would be impressed. Looking over a few more titles. He squinted at one and gave up halfway through the first syllable. 

Useless. 

He couldn’t read any of the damn books. That and he had a sneaking suspicion that trying might get his soul sucked out or his skin flayed.

He made a mental note to see if he could bribe or convince Vinum to teach him the basics of their language. Surely if anyone would indulge a person’s curiosity it would be her. Maybe he could amuse her long enough to buy him a few minutes of instruction. He doubted it. They tolerated his presence at best. Anything that even slightly irritated them would just end badly for him.

His eyes skimmed more worn labels, more unintelligible writing. He moved fast, but carefully, heart pounding against his ribs. Glancing at his watch he had roughly ten minutes to search through a library that could swallow a city. And that was being generous. A growing knot in his gut  that every second brought him closer to being caught.

Thinking back it was funny in a morbid way. He used to worry about scraping by for rent. About cheap microwave meals and holding onto his shitty store clerk job. Now here he was exploring something out of a video game. Dodging demons, collecting items and exploring a giant library. All because he’d been broke and dumb enough to say yes when two guys offered a “no-risk” score. 

One mistake, and here he was, scouring through books for a miracle. Though he wouldn't lie, a dark part of him was glad the other two were dead. They had gotten him into this mess. He’d been desperate, not depraved. 

Karma’s a bitch. 

 He forced the thought down. No time for anger. No time for regret.

He pushed on. Determination sharpened his resolve. There had to be something, anything that stood out. The few books he had seen in English were mostly worthless. Nothing he could use—no clues, no hidden truths about succubi weaknesses, just obscure theories like 

Emotive Expressions in Infernal Courtship Dances and

 Anatomical Peculiarities in Imps: A Field Study.

Alex paused, his eyes catching on an unusually thick volume wedged between two dusty tomes. Historical Misinterpretations of the Succubus Mythos in Mortal Literature

The title actually gave him a flicker of hope. At first glance, it looked promising, maybe even practical. If it pointed out where human legends got succubi wrong, there might be something he could use. Maybe a hidden weakness or ritual. He flipped it open and started scanning.

That hope died fast. The author, a succubus clearly, had written the entire book as a scathing takedown of human scholars. Page after page of bitter corrections, petty rants, and sarcastic footnotes. Apparently, mortals got a lot wrong about Succubi. exaggerated wingspan, underestimated intelligence, and, most offensively, assumed all Succubi had large breasts. Judging by the bitterness lacing that sentence, the author likely took that last one personally.

The book was useless. It was just ego. Endless complaints disguised as ‘scholarship’, all dripping with a strong undercurrent of: ‘we deserve better PR.’ He shut the book with a sigh and shoved it back on the shelf.

He pulled another book out, this one barely holding together. Has no one heard of glue or Sellotape? Anatomy of the Seductress: A Mortal Scholar’s Encounter with the Succubi Courts. He read the title and smiled, surely this was what he was looking for. 

The cover was an ebony black with gold lettering, the surface coated with a thick layer of dust. Leaning forward he blew on the book. stirring a few specks of dust. He felt he got more spittle on it than removed dust.

Cracking it open, the pages curled at the edges. The ink was faded or simply gone in areas. The first few sections were useless, an assortment of half-legible poems, mad ramblings about moonlight and bloodlines, a paragraph that seemed obsessed with the sexual potency of succubus milk. With a quiet huff of frustration, he moved to slide the book back onto the shelf.

As he did, a few loose pages slipped out and fluttered to the floor.

He paused, bending down to snag them.

The parchment was thinner than the rest, half-decayed at the corners, but still legible in parts. He scanned the torn sheets, picking out scraps of what looked like a ritual. Most of the information was illegible, worn away by time. But words like “binding,” “transfer,” and “shared” stood out.

It seemed to describe some kind of spell. A bond between succubus and human, sealed through a Sigel. The details were too fragmented to tell. He didn’t know magic, and he didn’t have time to find an idiot's guide to rituals. If that even existed. It might be useful but not right now. 

Grabbing the pieces of paper he jammed them back into the tomb, Barring one that had the strange symbol he put in his back pocket to look over later. Moving to return the book, something caught his eye. A glint. Just at the edge of the lantern light, near the bottom shelf.

He leaned down further, shifting a few books aside. A small, leather-bound book with a  small metal buckle and leather strap. His curiosity peaked. Alex placed the lantern down on the ground getting on his knees as he reached inside, with a light tug the journal came free. 

It was lighter than expected. The leather cover was cracked but intact, and the pages within were yellowed and delicate. No title. No mark. Just a single, small clasp keeping it closed. He undid it and opened to the first page.

Delicate, precise handwriting filled the lines—dense and methodical. He scanned the top of the page:

Myusca was insufferable again. She spent the morning watching that infernal television. I could hear it blaring through the walls. I've reminded her more than once that I do not wish to hear that silly children show she insists on watching. How hard is it to keep the noise down? 

Alex froze. The style of writing was unmistakably Vinum’s.

He snapped the book shut, already feeling the weight of what he was holding. This wasn’t something to read here, not crouched in the dark on a time limit. Vinum would be here in a few minutes and Myusca would be finishing her bath. He slid the journal into his hoodie, letting it press against his stomach. He moved briskly, careful not to let his footsteps echo. He returned the lantern to the desk, then slipped out before any of the girls could catch him snooping.

The stairs creaked under his feet as he began the slow, silent climb back up. 

This is stupid. It’s a miracle you managed to get out of the library without being caught. Just keep breathing and don’t panic. If you panic, you're dead. 

A creek from upstairs made him freeze. Listening with baited breath for any movement. After a few tense moments listening for the sound of a door opening or footsteps. When no further noises sounded he shifted his weight, taking another hesitant step forward. Just put one foot in front of the other. 

 Reaching  the top, Alex gave a small gasp of relief as he turned into the hallway. Alex kept close to the wall, footsteps hurried by not recklessly. His hand held the journal close to his body. He just needed to reach the bathroom. If any of the girls saw him he could just lie. 

Vinum’s room was behind him now. Myusca’s lay just to his left. He was so close just another handful of steps and he would be round the corner and home free. Just as he was rounding the corner he heard a door click open.

Alex went rigid. Not daring to move as he heard footsteps, slow and unhurried. A yawn belonging to Vinum coupled with footsteps coming from the stairwell. Really both of them, what were the chances.

Myusca’s voice drifted up, lazy and bright. “Afternoon.”

Vinum’s voice came in return, cool and unreadable. “Mm.”

“Long bath?” Vinum asked, her voice fading slightly as she moved further down the hall.

“Are you saying I’m pruney?” Myusca teased. 

Using the distraction, Alex darted to his room, ignoring the squeal of the floorboards as he reached his room.  He slipped inside, clumsier than he meant to, and closed it with a soft click. He didn’t move, just leaned against the door, heart hammering. His hands wouldn't stop trembling, his body slick with sweat as he let himself slide down the door. His head hitting the frame with a gentle clunk. That had been too close.

He sat there for a while, letting his nerves settle. The muffled footsteps and voices from the hallway fading. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a shaky hand. He dragged his hand down gently rubbing his face as he sighed. 

“That was... stressful.” he chuckled running a hand though his hair. With a grunt, he pulled himself up. His knees cracking in protest. He staggered over to the desk collapsing into  the chair with a soft thud, hand against the wall fo

The chair creaked beneath him as he sat. He pulled the journal from under his hoodie, setting it on the desk. His throat was dry. It looked so plain—almost disappointingly so. For someone like Vinum, he’d expected something darker, heavier. But this? This looked like something forgotten in an attic.

 

The chair creaked beneath him as he sat. He pulled the journal out, his lips dry as he looked it over. It looked so... plain, disappointingly so. It looked less like the personal diary of an ancient demon and more like something forgotten at the back of a charity shop. The leather cover was faded and cracked, the strap was frayed and the buckle had flecks of rust around the edges. 

Opening it, he once again admired the elegant writing. Vinum’s handwriting was crisp, deliberate—clearly the result of an elite education. Did demons have education systems? A demonic equivalent of Oxford or Cambridge.

Skimming through the pages. He felt a pit in his stomach. Most of the entries were research into a number of subjects he knew nothing about. Small notes and musses as well as a few sections complaining about Myusca and Nemea. 

Nemea still refuses to allow children to be harmed. I’ve tried to argue that if humans can eat veal, why can’t Succubi? But she won’t budge. She almost treats children like a separate species. More than once I’ve seen her bring in a lost child, comfort them, give them a snack and then escort them home. Only to lure a grown man inside an hour later.

I don’t understand how that girl's mind works but there seems to be an ethical line she won’t cross. And in fairness Myusca and I have abided by her request. Even if I find it strange. But There may be wisdom to her morals though. Children going missing draws far more attention than the prey we primarily target. Very few will mourn the disappearance of Hoodlums, lechers and thieves.

Still… This spark of empathy in her could prove troublesome. I fear what the others would do if they were to learn of this. More so I fear how this could reflect on me. 

Alex could hardly believe what he was reading. It had to be a lie. There was no way Nemea had a single empathetic bone in her body. She delighted in mocking and tormenting her victims. Yet Vinum would have him believe that she secretly had a maternal side towards children. Great—if I could just shave off a decade, maybe she’d open the door and offer me juice and a pat on the head. 

Still it was a strange feeling to learn something so intimate about someone he despised. At the very least next time one of them was killing him it might allow him to get a zinger in before they finished draining him.  

Still it was a strange feeling to learn something so intimate about those he despised. It felt wrong to humanize them. Worse, he couldn't even throw this in their face. Laugh and mock them because what would be the point? They would just kill him then and there.

The handwriting looked rushed, 

Skipping another couple pages he read over a few studies on summoning imps and familiars and a scathing rant about Myusca’s manticore after it trampled a section of her garden where she was cultivating Moon blossoms. He turned another page, scanning until a line caught his attention.

Myusca is growing reckless. 

“Jackpot”

I’ve warned her several times about leaving items for humans to use in her games. The more she toys with them the greater the chance they could harm her or us. She might view them as moronic livestock, but beneath their pitiful and treacherous nature, they are still cunning. When cornered, they are capable of great ingenuity and violence. 

“She might forget sometimes, but we are not invulnerable. If the wards around us were to fail whilst we slept or we were weakened by magical means, a human with a weapon could kill us as easily as they do each other. She is so used to having complete control that she doesn't see that humans are cunning. Just because they are lower on the food chain doesn’t mean we should see them as non threats. They are worthless and beneath us, no better than insects but they are still dangerous in the right circumstances. I only hope she will learn this before a tragedy befalls her. 

Alex gave a silent cheer; this was exactly what he had been looking for. They were capable of being killed. The question was what weakened them? Maybe a magical spell or holy artifact could weaken them. Even with this information there was not much that he could do.  Even if he managed to get one of them. The other two would quickly find out and kill him. Though if he waited until Myusca and Nemea were out the house he might be able to get Vinum. But of all 3 she was the last one he wanted to try anything with.

he continued reading curious to see what else he could glean.

 Luckily she is not without her redeeming qualities. She adapts quickly and learns from her mistakes. I would expect nothing less from House Malvora. 

He let out a sharp gasp re-reading the last line. 

Malvora. Her last name was Malvora. He didn’t know demons possessed surnames. It might not be a weakness But this was something at the very least. It gave him something to look into the next time he was in the Library, or on Nemea’s computer.

This was fantastic. This journal was worth the risk and he had only scratched its surface. Nemea had a motherly side. Demons could be killed with firearms under the right circumstances—his friends in America would be delighted. And Myusca had a last name. Myusca Malvora. 

What other secrets lay hidden in this journal, and were there more like this one? How much had they kept buried, assuming no one would ever think to look? And what else had they underestimated? 

Notes:

Here is chapter two for you all. I hope you enjoy it and ask you to leave a comment with any feedback, questions, suggestions or concerns and please leave a kudos if it warrants it. I apologize that it has not been properly proof read. Other than a quick skim over by the CowboyWeeb. Please check out his fantastic Monster girl fics.
https://archiveofourown.org/users/CowboyWeeb/pseuds/CowboyWeeb

Chapter 3: The Escape Plan

Alex let out a slow breath as he leaned back from the desk, his spine giving a satisfying crack as he stretched his arms overhead. The clock ticked lazily from the wall beside his bed. It was a little past 2pm last he had checked. His eyes lazily flicked over the journal sighing. After the juicy info about Myusca and Nemea the rest had gone a bit stale. The contents were mostly just Vinum’s annoyance at her sisters or her research on various subjects, for someone who gave off an air of absolute calm and confidence. It seemed like a lot of things annoyed her. Myusca and Nemea’s 'grandma' comments appeared to have some truth to them. Despite her youthful appearance, she acted like a grouchy pensioner.

Afternoon naps, a strong hatred for technology, and constant complaints about her younger sisters. He wondered if Myusca and Nemea had ever considered putting her in an old folk’s home. Alex snorted at the mental image of a demonic retirement home. Old demons playing Hellfire Bingo on Wednesdays, soul soup in the cafeteria, or yelling hideously racist things about angels?

Then he imagined Myusca and Nemea in nurse outfits. Skirts just that bit too short and cleavage just shy of being obscene. and arousal pricked at his mind as he hastily shook his head. He didn’t have time for horny Stockholm syndrome.

He stood the chair scraping softly behind him as he tilted his head side to side. Groaning softly as each pop loosened the tension. He was making steady progress with the diary. Honestly, Vinum could be quite dry with her writing.

Preparing to put the journal away Alex paused as he saw a loose page sticking out near the bottom. Interest piqued, he opened the journal to that section. On the page, there was a piece of paper folded near the bottom. Stuck to the journal with a piece of dry gum.

Curiously, he gently peeled the note off the journal, unfolding it as he scanned the page.

"To whoever finds this—if you're reading this, I'm probably dead."

"My name doesn’t matter. What matters is that you understand the situation you are in. That girl Myusca... She isn’t human. None of them are. They’re demons, soul-sucking monsters from old tales. If she hasn’t killed you, that sadly means you’re interesting enough to torment. Lucky you, that means you have twenty-four hours. Maybe less. Depending on her mood. After that time, she will devour you. I will continue to update this note as long as I can... I hope it will help you. Wish me luck.

Alex paused, rereading the last line. Even staring down death, this man still tried to help others. The thought made his chest tighten, a sense of shame growing. He wasn’t sure he could do the same. He took a breath and read on.

There is no obvious way out. For the last 2 hours, I have searched for a way to escape this place. I’ve tried everything, windows, doors, I even considered jumping out of the bedroom window. But that damn beast is more agile than it lets on. Nearly snatched me off the balcony. I hear it snarling, pacing the back garden like a caged tiger.

It has been an hour since my last update. I snuck into Myusca’s room whilst she was downstairs. I wanted to see if she had a key or some magic doohickie that might help me get past that magical lock downstairs.

Instead, I found something peculiar. In the TV cabinet, I found a false bottom. When I removed it, I found a laptop. I don’t know if she bought it or took it off one of her last ‘guests’ but the damn thing is password protected... Typical. It must be of significant importance to her if she is hiding it like this.

Myusca had a laptop? Why am I just learning this? Granted in his defence he normally didn't go into her room as she so far hadn't had anything of use. He had never really devoted himself to deep searching any of the rooms. The guy had been more meticulous it seemed. Alex had to hand it to him. This guy was smarter than he was. Not that the bar was set remarkably high. Fifteen times I’ve done this and only now am I thinking of looking more thoroughly.

He continued reading.

If you manage to find it, hopefully you have better luck than me. I’m useless with technology. But come on— It can't be too hard to figure out. Hopefully, it is something simple. I doubt it is going to Maybe she even wrote it down. I know I always had to with my passwords.
I didn’t get the chance to search further. Had to sneak out before she came back. If I live long enough, I might go back later and search. I Couldn't find any bits of paper with a password on it in the cabinet. If she does have the password, it will be somewhere else in that room maybe check her desk or her bookshelf?

So, it’s 2:11 PM here. I found something interesting. Vinum, the one with the white hair, keeps a diary of all things. I managed to snag it, and holy hell, she was not happy. I can hear her screaming at Myusca. They’re going at it pretty hard. I don’t think she suspects me yet... but that won’t last.

Speaking of her diary, it turns out Vinum has several pages dedicated to Myusca. And if a monster like her thinks Myusca is twisted, then yeah, that says everything.

Not much on Nemea. Just a note that she’s kind towards kids and refuses to hurt them. This is the first redeeming quality I have heard about these freaks. Though I guess even monsters can have a soft spot for children... I miss my family. If I get out of here, I promise I will be better.

Alex blinked. He hadn’t expected that. That line hit harder than anything else in the journal.

I found a key in Vinum’s room whilst she was sleeping. After a bit of searching, I found that it unlocks her drawer near the mirror. Found a strange crystal inside. Not sure what it does but it might be useful.

I’m hiding in the library, but I don't have long left. I failed to figure out what the crystal does.

It is 11:45, I am currently taking refuge in the library.

My Phone has 2% battery left. It's currently 11:59... I had a good run.

Myusca is looking for me. I hear her calling from upstairs.

If you are still reading this. I hope you make it further than I did. If you manage to escape this hell, I’ve written an address on the back. Please go there and tell my wife and son that I love them—and I'm sorry.

Good luck.

Alex leaned back. The discomfort of the chair faded under the weight of what he’d just read. His fingers tightened and for a long moment, he didn’t move. This wasn’t just a message. It was a man’s final hours, spent trying to escape, and still thinking about how to help others.

The last part echoed in his head.

Tell my wife and son that I love them and I'm sorry.

He swallowed hard. A part of him wanted to put it back in the diary and forget it. Pretend he hadn’t read it. But he couldn’t. That man had died hoping someone would hear him.

Alex flipped the note over making a mental note of the faint scrawl of the address.

“I’ll remember,” he muttered under his breath. “I promise.”

This wasn’t just about him anymore. With a new resolve, he swore he would get out of here. He would make sure that the man's family knew of his courage and sacrifice.

He paused by the bed, suddenly remembering his phone. With a quiet groan, he crouched and dug through his backpack.

“Aha.” He cheered, pulling his phone free and slipped it into his pocket.

“Can’t believe I almost forgot about you.”

He stepped out of his room with a reassurance he hadn’t possessed before. He was terrified even now but he wouldn’t let that control him. He had to be strong or else he would be stuck in this loop forever.

With Myusca asleep, Vinum in the library, and Nemea in the bath, the second floor was clear. That gave him a short window to grab what he needed—if he moved fast. His first stop was Nemea’s room.

The front door had a few tricks to prevent humans escaping. He had so far found workarounds to most of the issues. Rubber gloves from the bathroom prevented the door from zapping him on contact. Problem was even with that he found he was unable to turn the door handle. A note in the trash bin in his room that he had read on his sixth loop revealed that only a “succubus.” could turn the door handle.

Through trial, error and reading he had found methods in which to summon imps. When destroyed with holy water, they left behind ash that was able to fool the magical seal on the front door.

He could grab the gloves once Nemea had left the bathroom. His primary task was getting the ingredients to summon and kill the imp.

He would require three things, clothing with demon essence on it. Journals from the previous inhabitants specified that worn panties were the most effective. Bloody perverts. The second component was Milk, of all things. Maybe the demons had a calcium deficiency? The final and crucial piece for killing the imp, Holy water.

With the bathroom occupied, his best shot at finding underwear was in their bedrooms. Nemea room preferably as he could also pick up Holy water from her cabinet.

He reached her door and gently nudged it open just enough to peek inside. His eyes swept the dim room, making sure it was empty before he slipped inside. Moving into the room he stopped to flick the lamp on near the corner, warm light filled the spacious room.

Alex did a sweep of the room, first checking the large wooden drawer at the back of her room. sadly, no luck, all he found were freshly washed and neatly folded clothes. Next was the plush red couches and coffee table. He looked in between the cushions under the table but came up empty handed. He tried her computer desk under her twin bed; he even pulled back her large central rug. Nothing.

He contemplated grabbing a fresh pair of panties and just risking it. But stopped, it was probably best not to mess with the ritual. Knowing his luck, if he started changing the components, he would end up summoning a Balrog or something. And he didn’t have a staff or a pointy grey hat.

“Well fuck.” Alex grumbled hands on his hips as he gave the room one last search. Despite looking everywhere, he couldn’t find any panties that she had worn recently.

With a defeated sign he heads over to the cabinet near her bed. At the very least he could still grab the holy water.

Crouching, his fingers brushing the worn handle as he eased the cabinet door open. The insides were mundane, a few folded towels, a box of hairpins, something that looked like bath salts and a few bottles of perfume. He carefully moved the items to the side making sure not to bump or break anything.

Tucked near the back, half-buried behind a stack of clothes. Alex found his prize. A beautiful glass bottle that glowed faintly in the dim cabinet. A sapphire blue liquid sat inside with white dots that glimmered like stars. He reached in and gently took it, the bottle cold against his palm.

It had to be deliberate, leaving something like this in an easy to access area. Not even locked or properly hidden. He turned the bottle slowly in his hands, watching the faint shimmer of the liquid catch the light. Had she forgotten it was here? Or did she just not care?
It wouldn’t surprise him. It might not even hurt them. But it killed imps and that was good enough for now.

As he was about to leave Alex eye caught a faint glint at the back of the cabinet. Reaching in he pulled out what looked like a picture frame. Inside was a crayon drawing with bright colours and wobbly lines. A small child with a bright smile stood next to a tall figure with bat-like wings and long brown hair. The figure wore a white sweater and brown pants. They were holding hands beneath a rainbow and a big yellow sun. Below, something was scribbled on the edge of the paper.

"—Kusu & Nemea. Best friends."

The first half of the child's name was smudged, the crayon lines faded by time. It was sweet and by that same token deeply out of place. Whoever drew it clearly adored Nemea. The fact it was framed showed she must have adored them back. But then why was it hiding at the back? He wasn’t sure what unsettled him more... The idea of a child being so close to someone as vile as her, or the idea that deep down there might be more to her than just a monster.

Biting his cheek, Alex studied the drawing a moment longer, his eyes dwelling on the name before gently setting the frame back on the shelf. Leaving the room, he closed the door quietly and drew in a slow breath, steadying himself. There was no point going into Vinum’s room. She was a neat freak—no way she’d leave clothes lying around. Even Nemea had been a long shot.

That left just one room.

The one he’d been dreading.

He stood in front of a plain door, debating. He could wait an hour for Nemea to finish her bath and grab a pair of her panties instead. It would be safer and smarter, but it would cost him time. A luxury he didn’t have much of.

This is a stupid idea.

With a soft click, the door creaked open. He crouched low, moving almost on all fours like Tarzan. He was on a roll with the references today.

Squinting he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. From the corner of the room the slow, steady rhythm of her breathing came as a relief. ‘Good... she’s out for the count as long as I don’t do anything stupid, she shouldn’t be waking up any time soon.’

He moved to the center of the room looking through the contents of her floor. ‘Jesus and I thought I was a slob. How can something so beautiful live like such a bum?’

The floor looked like it had lost a war with a makeup bag and a late-night snack run. Lipstick tubes scattered across the floor, a forgotten takeout box rested beside her couch with a few crumpled napkins scattered around, and a couple of well-worn magazines peeked out from under a hoodie. It was funny when you took a second to think about it. Yes, she was sadistic, evil and could snap him like a toothpick or drain him dry. Yet looking around her bedroom, it felt more like a college dorm room than the den of a soul sucking seductress.

Yet despite the mess littering the floor, he couldn’t find a single pair of panties. With a growing dread he realized there was nothing he could use. He had no idea how long demonic energy lingered on clothes and didn’t want to risk raiding her drawers for something that might not work.

His eyes flickered over to Myusca, an insane idea forming. He shook his head. Sure, why not dig the hole deeper. If she woke up and saw him, there wasn’t a lie smooth enough to save his ass. Then again, she’d probably enjoy it—if only to mock him as a pervert before dragging him into bed. Almost appealing if it didn’t end in a slow and painful death.

It was insane. Beyond reckless.

There’s no way I’m that stupid…

He stood there for a moment, silence permeating the air before he sighed.

…Okay. I am in fact that stupid.

Hovering over the bed, Alex felt sweat gathering at his brow, trickling down his face as he hastily swiped at his forehead. His fingers trembled despite his efforts to keep them still. He sucked in a breath and carefully pushed the blanket aside.

Myusca didn’t move.

Her legs shifted slightly in her sleep, falling open just enough for the edge of her panties to become visible beneath the hem of her skirt. His stomach lurched as he mentally prepared himself. This would make or break the whole plan. If she woke up, he was dead.

Despite how dangerous he knew her to be. Lying there asleep she looked... innocent. There were no glowing eyes, no demonic flare with wings and horns and no malicious words. Just the slow rise and fall of her chest, the sound of her breathing and a faint trickle of drool that clung to the corner of her lip.

His knees ached from crouching, but he was too afraid to stretch. His mind screamed at him to move and get this done as quickly as possible. but speed and carelessness risked noise. He sure as hell was not getting caught trying to take her panties off of her. He honestly wasn’t sure what would be worse. The embarrassment or the murder.

He reached for her waistband, fingers brushing against warm skin. A soft groan escaped her lips as she shifted slightly. Alex swallowed, panic tightening in his chest.

Please don’t wake up.

Please don’t wake up!

He stood frozen, hands planted on either side of her waist, barely breathing. When she didn’t move again, he let out a silent breath, shoulders slumping just a little. Carefully, he gave the waistband a gentle tug, inching it down her thighs. The fabric slid slowly over pale skin, and he caught a glimpse of what lay beneath.

It hit him instantly.

A rush of heat through his chest, crawling up his neck like an electric current. His knees nearly buckled under the pressure. His thoughts blurred, overtaken by a raw, instinctive hunger.

No. Not now. Fight it, you stupid, lust-drunk bastard. Don’t give in.

It was like a drug, flooding his brain with images he couldn’t deny desiring. Him, on top of her. Her, pulling him closer. Mouths meeting in passionate embrace, breathless gasps in his ear. Begging him for more.
Alex gritted his teeth, every muscle in his jaw aching. He nearly bit clean through his cheek as he wrenched his head away. It took everything he had to fight this pink fog that pulsed behind his eyelids.

The pressure in his body slowly eased but the thoughts lingered. Each breath came fast and shallow as sweat clung to his skin. Looking down Alex gave a mirthless snort. Of all the times for his body to show enthusiasm, this was easily the worst. His task completed Alex made a hasty retreat. Making sure to avoid knocking anything over as he left. Slipping through the door he gently eased it shut with an exhale. He made it a few steps before pausing to lean against the wall for balance, wiping sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. It had taken everything just to look away. Even unconscious, these women were lethal. One slip, one second too long in her proximity and he would have submitted.

A small part of him had considered snagging the laptop mentioned in the note. But after all that, he would grab it later. Once he had everything else.

A dry chuckle escaped his lips. “If I die today, it better not be for stealing panties off a sleeping demon.”

Alex made his way down the hallway, descending down the stairs. His steps were measured and calm. The worst of it was behind him. Ahead of him he heard the faint humming of Nemea. Accompanied by a few splashes of water. He held his breath as he snuck past the door. Not risking it until his foot touched the kitchen floor.

He moved with purpose; he didn't have time to explore the kitchen for anything useful. The knife was no use nor was the assortment of jars, Tupperware boxes with no matching lids and coffee sachets.

He snatched a carton of milk from the fridge and made his way over to a section of floor past the kitchen table. With little fanfare he knelt down his fingers brushing over a small handle as he pulled the false floor up.

The latch below had a Keypad Lock one that had caught him off guard the first time he had found it. Now he knew the code by heart.

3 9 8 4

With a soft click the latch released, the panel sliding open with a groan. Alex felt a cold seep up from below as his grip tightened. Light from the kitchen spilled toward the opening. It reached the top of the hatch and simply stopped, like something below was pushing it back.

He stood over the hatch, staring down into the darkness below. A chill crawled up the back of his neck, followed by an involuntary shudder.

There was nothing down there.

He knew that.

The basement was empty yet still he felt his heartbeat louder as he looked below. It felt wrong, not like the house or the demonic women. This was something different, something far older. Maybe it was just paranoia, but the basement felt alive. As if the darkness itself was sentient. A sleeping primordial that he didn’t want to disturb.

The air that drifted up from below was dry and stale, tinged with something harder to name. He lingered above the hatch for a few moments before he placed one foot on the ladder.

The ladder was slick with mildew, the wood rotting in places. Alex climbed down carefully, each rung of the ladder damp and soft under his grip. The air grew colder with every step, the air heavier the deeper he went.

 

The deeper he went, the colder the air became, each breath he took feeling heavier.

His feet hit the floor with a small thud, his eyes struggling to adjust as he pulled out his phone. A few taps and the light sprung to life. Unlike in the library, he had remembered to take his phone out of his backpack.

“Just grab the gun and pretend this isn’t a stupid idea” he chuckled as he moved. He followed the left side of the corridor, fingers skimming the uneven stone helping to keep his balance and navigate the darkness. His phone’s light was nearly useless but having it felt better than nothing. He spotted a familiar puddle at his feet. Water trickling from a damp patch on the wall. The first time he had come down here he had discovered the gun by accident. He had been using his hands to navigate the dark basement; his fingers had brushed against a button that had revealed a secret compartment.

Up until this point he hadn’t had much use for a gun. It was useless against the succubi, but given Vinum’s room was soundproof, he might be able to use it to grab the crystal in her cabinet by shooting the lock.

With a light push, a gentle click rang out, revealing the narrow alcove tucked behind it. Reaching inside, he pulled the gun free. He looked it over, then carefully tucked it into his waistband. Silently, he prayed that loop fifteen wouldn’t end with him shooting himself in the ass.

Traveling further along the basement corridor, he noted the familiar splatter of blood coating the wall just before an entrance.

The entrance led into what the journals called the summoning pit. Steeling himself he entered. Like before the walls were stained with more blood than one body could produce, skeletons littered the edges of the room and in the center a large pentagram sat. The outline was lilac in colour, the very air humming as Alex heard the faint whispers and cries of what he could only assume were souls trapped. The wails of agony made him shiver violently, making him feel sick to his stomach.

This place was evil!

Throwing Myusca’s panties on the ground fiddling with the milk carton until he managed to tear it open. Pouring the contents onto the underwear. With a crack the pentagram erupts in a blinding pink light. A sound loud as thunder roaring as streaks of lighting and fire vortex in the center.

The pentagram flared with blinding purple light. Inside, a familiar shape began to take form. Red-skinned, twisted wings, and a gaping maw lined with dagger-like teeth. An unearthly wail split the air as the creature fully emerged. The pentagram’s glow dimmed the room, quitting as the creature beady eyes locked onto Alex.

The silence shattered with a demonic shriek. The imp lunged.

He dodged to the left, claws carving gouges into the stone wall behind him. Another shriek—and a fireball erupted from its mouth. Ducking in time, the blast roared overhead. The top of his hoodie smoked, singed, and blackened. Cursing he stumbled backwards, his shoulders pressing against the wall, heart pounding. His right hand slipped into his hoodie pocket.

Just a little closer.

The creature gave a grotesque cackle, sounding like phlegm caught in the throat of a dying man. Its prey cornered and prepared to land the finishing blow.

With a yelp, Alex tried to sidestep as the imp’s claws racked his shoulder. Alex landed on the ground with a meaty thud, his head smacking against the pentagram glowing beneath him. His shoulder throbbed as he groaned, dazed as he tried to focus. The imp turned its claws flexing as it moved to finish him.

Alex yanked the bottle out of his hoodie, ripping the cork off as he threw the holy water across the imp’s face. The reaction was instant. The demon shrieked in agony as its skin bubbled and peeled away. Claws flailed blindly, the gruesome sight was thankfully short, its body stiffening before it finally crumbled to ash.

Alex lay sprawled on the floor, propped up by his good arm, eyes fixed on where the Imp had been. He stayed in that position for a few seconds breathing heavily and wishing once again he had never come here. He clutched his shoulder, his hoodie ruined as blood seeped down his arm onto the floor beneath him.

“Fuck that was close.” Alex chuckled weakly groaning as he moved to get up, his hand brushing against something solid. Turning he saw the hourglass lying on its side.

Huh must have fallen out. Reaching to grab it, Alex gave a yelp, yanking his hand back. The hourglass was burning hot. Cradling his hand, he looked at the screaming face on it with suspicion. Why the hell did it burn me and why hasn’t it returned to my pocket yet?

The pentagram erupted in light, spirals of pink fire spiralling upwards as Alex stumbled backwards shielding his eyes. A loud ringing could be heard, the noise familiar the same one that sounded upon his death.

Through the cracks in his fingers, he could see colours shifting. The pentagram changes from violet to rich gold, the light slowly fading. The artifact shimmered for a moment and then simply vanished as Alex blinked in disbelief.

"What..." he breathed, blinking slowly, mind scrambling to catch up. He stared at the space where it had been, his breath caught a chill seeping into his bones.

Like a match had been struck, he lunged forward, his hands scrabbling at the empty floor desperate for any sign of where it might have gone.

"No, no no no no!" he choked out, voice rising, hands diving into his jeans. He tore through every fold and seam, turning out pockets, checking again and again. It wasn’t there. His breath hitched, swallowing painfully he looked around for any sign of the familiar gold hue. He couldn’t lose it, he needed it.

Frustration and panic gnawed at him, His eyes watering as he slammed his fists onto the ground. He felt a crushing wave of defeat, everything he had endured, the insults, mind games and every humiliating death. It was all going to be for nothing.

“What the fuck do I do now? If I get caught...” Alex didn’t finish. He was tired, his shoulder was aching, hands throbbing. Alex gave a miserable groan, just wanting to curl up and sleep. A gentle pink glow made him pause, looking down.

The pentagram was gone. In its place something new lay carved into the stone floor. A heart, with two curling stems that bent inwards like horns masquerading as a second heart, each sprouting a little leaf. It looked almost cute, a far cry from its earlier appearance. He let out a shaky broken laugh, the absurdity of it all crashing down.

Well on the bright side, at least the symbol is cute now. Better than that creepy pentagram. He mused internally.

“I don’t know about creepy; I find the pentagram to be quite charming.” A soft voice mused from above.

Alex gave a strangled yelp, throwing himself backwards as his head shot up. Above him was a woman hovering in mid-air, one leg draped lazily over the other.

He regarded her with stunned disbelief. He had never seen a woman as beautiful as her. Long ivory hair cascaded over her shoulders, sparkling in the light. Her body was perfect, porcelain skin without a blemish or a mark. A full figure, inviting and warm.

Her dress was simple but elegant—strapless, flowing white fabric cinched at the waist by a dark corset embroidered with subtle gold patterns.

On her back a pair of wings radiant and white spread slightly behind her. An ivory tail swayed lazily ending in an elegant ornate spade. Her horns were obsidian black and curled forward from the back of her skull. Her eyes, rich and full of mischief, watched him like he was a curiosity.

Even the white heels she wore, modest and unadorned, felt elegant as if elevated by the woman wearing them. Their eyes met and Alex found he couldn’t speak, his throat making a pitiful dry rasp.

“Cat got your tongue?” she teased, the corner of her mouth curling. She landed unceremoniously looking down at his shaking form. He wanted to run, to hide, to beg for his life. This woman was different from the other three. The power radiating around her was suffocating, pressing in on all sides. She was a force of nature wrapped in beauty.

A hurricane, who’s attention he had foolishly drawn.

She pouted, her lips subtly pushing forward as she tapped a finger to her lower lip in mock contemplation. “Aww there is no need to be afraid. I don’t bite... Well not on the first date anyway.” She approached him towering above him as she looked down as if expecting him to reply.

I’m fucked. No... worse, I’m dead. The thought rang hollow, he didn’t have the energy to panic anymore. Not after everything. The repeated loops, the cruelty and now the hourglass was gone he had nothing left to give. He had tried... he really had, but it wasn't enough. And now here she was. Another succubus. Another monster. He was too exhausted to run.

Her fingers curled around his, and with a gentle tug, she guided him upright. He stumbled slightly, blinking up at her in disbelief. Her gaze lingered, soft and unreadable, before she whispered, "You’ve been through so much… and still, you kept going. That is a strength very few have." Her hand reached up, gently cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing away a smear of ash with delicate care. Then, without hesitation, her arms slid around him, pulling him into a hug.

Alex froze. Every nerve in his body screamed trap. Nemea had done this before. Making him feel safe and cherished all the while forcing him inside her and slowly devouring his soul.

But this felt… different. There was no malice in her touch, no mocking twist to her tone. Just warmth and what felt like sincerity. A small, broken part of him ached for this. So, he returned the hug, his arms curling around her. Burying his head into her chest. A soft sigh escaped her lips, like she’d been waiting for this. A content sigh echoing from Alex and this woman.

When he finally pulled away, she didn’t try to stop him. She simply watched him with the same calm expression.

He staggered back a step trying to regain his footing, staring. "Who… who are you?"

"Oh, how rude of me." she giggled, "My name is Meliora. Seventeenth daughter of the Demon Lord Lilith. Words cannot express how delighted I am to finally meet you... My dear husband."

"Oh, uh pleasure to—wait.” Alex blinked, opening his mouth and then closing it.

“Husband?!"

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed chapter 3. I want to put any fears to rest and state firmly. Alex will not become a Mary Sue. He will not have his angry nuclear bomb of a waifu smash those bitches upstairs. And in fact for the first part of this story outside of her introduction and long talking piece in the next chapter will have minimum interaction. Other than a few dream sequences. The lilim is there to help him even the playing field if only a tiny bit. In the game Succubus Prison the girls are unstoppable monsters with stupid powerful abilities. Such as being immune to silver bullets, holy water as well as having charm abilities that stop humans dead in their tracks/ can place them under their spell from anywhere in the house. Not a really fun fighting back story if the enemy can OTK you before you can blink.

But I also didn't want to make the story like redo of a healer or revenge porn where he gets insane powers that make his struggles and journey meaningless. I want him to grow to learn and even make peace with what happened. I hope at the end I can appease both those looking to see the girls get some justice. But also be willing to give them a second chance. See if there is more to them than just demonic sociopaths. I also down the line want to see the MGE universe play a larger role in the story. I won't be adding the MGQ universe as I know less about it and feel it would just turn into a pissing contest between who is more powerful. But happy to add small elements.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and if you like it or hate it please leave any feedback and if you think it has earned it please leave a Kudos.

Chapter 4: A Chance, However Slim

Notes:

After a few weeks Chapter 4 is finally here. I hope you all enjoy. There is a lot of talking in this chapter. I came back and edited this several times over the course of a few weeks adding bits in some last minute so it may jump in tone at bits. Also I moved this from google docs to word then to here so the chapter is a little wonky on spacing and paragraph sizes will try to fix this. Let me know if anything stands out and I will try to edit it. Enjoy

“Husband?!” Alex yelped, nearly tripping over his own feet as he stared at her. “You can’t just drop something like that! What are you and why are you calling me your husband?” Alex demanded his hands moving in exasperation.

She watched his flailing gestures with clear amusement, the corner of her mouth twitching up before she spoke.

"My sisters and I are known as Lilims. We are one of many hundreds of species collectively known as Mamono... or monster girls.”

Alex blinked, completely caught off guard as he looked at her incredulously. 'Monster girls' sounded like something out of an erotic anime. It took him a second to accept she was being completely serious. “Monster girls... You mean like mermaids or fox women?”

“Yes,” she replied with a small nod, clearly pleased he was catching on. Her eyes watched him with a burning intensity as if waiting eagerly for his next question.

“Okay so what do you ‘monster girls’ want?”

“To find a loving mate to spoil, to have children we can adore and pursue hobbies we enjoy. No different to what most humans desire. We are just more up front about our wants.”

“And calling me husband? Isn’t it custom to at least go on a date... or, I don’t know, talk before jumping into marriage?” he scoffed, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation.

"In Mamono culture, when we choose a man to be our husband. We move a lot faster in the courtship stage than you humans do. We don’t tend to waste time with dates or weddings... Though I can promise you there will be a honeymoon." She purrs with a sultry smirk, dragging a finger down his chest.

Alex felt a shudder climb up his spine, in pleasure or fear he wasn’t sure. Her eyes flicked to his injured shoulder, her tone softening. “But first things first… let me take care of that shoulder, hmm?” Her hand rose, fingertips brushing his arm before settling gently against the wound. Alex flinched at the contact, the pain making his eyes water as his body instinctively tensed beneath her touch.

“What the hell,” Alex muttered, twisting his arm. It moved freely, the pain gone. “You healed me?” He paused, drawing a steady breath. “Err… thank you.” An awkward silence followed as Alex tried to gather his thoughts. He shifted slightly, unease prickling at the edge of his voice. “How am I supposed to know this isn’t a trick? That you’re not just pretending to care, waiting to rip out my soul as some cruel joke?” His eyes stayed on hers, trying to keep his guard up—but underneath the doubt, something warmer stirred. A quiet, unwelcome hope that maybe she was being honest.

Meliora covered her mouth to muffle her amusement. “I promise, this isn’t a joke,” she said, her tone light and playful. “And it’s not your soul I want to suck.” Her grin turned sly as her eyes dipped downward, blatantly, then flicked back up to meet his.

A flush crept up his neck as her laughter followed, bright and shameless. She looked delighted by how easily she could make him squirm.

“But why me?” he murmured, a note of uncertainty creeping in. He was a minimum wage dropout, a pushover who had taken the easy route to earning cash and tried to rob a house. What did he have to offer someone so far out of his league it wasn’t even funny.

She tilted her head at his question. After a moment she replied. Well, it’s not for money or your extended cut of Lord of the Rings.” She giggled, fingers affectionately combing through his hair. “Your personality does leave a bit to be desired at times, and you are by no means the most attractive man I have met... Though you are easy on the eyes, in a plain sort of way.”

Well… damn,” he muttered, eyes flicking away as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Always nice to know I’m someone’s first pick for ‘inoffensively average.’” He played it off with a weak grin, trying to mask the hurt.

“Alex, you have to remember what I am. Do you really think I care how attractive or wealthy you are?” She pauses, giving a warm smile. “We choose our mates on what matters most to us. You may be crass and at times. But you have a wicked sense of humour, you are brave... and you are kind.”

“Good to know my humour and kindness gets the girl.” he snarked rolling his eyes despite himself. 

Shaking her head she gave him an affectionate smile. “You may not believe it. But you have a kind heart.”

He frowned at her confused as he gestured back and forth between them. “How could you possibly know that? This is the first time we’ve even spoken.”

 “I have watched you since you first picked up that hourglass. When we hugged, I admit I used that contact to reach into your memories. Just a glimpse, enough to understand who you were as a person.

“Wait... what?” he mumbled, brow furrowing. “You read my mind?” The words hung in the air for a second before the meaning caught up with him. His breath hitched, and he took a half-step back.

“You read my mind,” he repeated, louder this time.

The shock gave way to anger rising in his chest. His jaw clenched. “You had no right.”

Unfazed by his growing anger she held up a hand in a calming motion. “I apologize for the intrusion,” she said neutrally, “but I couldn’t risk choosing someone who hid cruel urges or dangerous desires. I had to be sure you were who you appeared to be.”

"That is still an invasion of privacy. I have stuff in my head I don't want people to see." 

She took a slow step forward with a flash of remorse on crossing her face. "I apologize again. But I hope you can understand that I did not do this lightly. I had to look through everything of interest—your memories, your values, the kind of person you are. To ensure you were good. Once we choose a husband we will never take another. My kind lives for a very very long time. So I hope you will forgive me."

He didn’t say anything at first. Silently processing her explanations. He wasn’t happy about this.  "That was a massive dick move...” he finally replied, but paused as a horrifying thought occurred.  “Wait... You didn't look at everything did you?" he said, anger faltering as a cold, creeping fear began to settle in

Her eyes sharpened, her tone turning sly. "If you are referring to your more private habits? I made sure to investigate everything in that department,” She purred. 

Alex felt the blood drain from his face. She couldn’t mean—

“Everything?” Alex squeaked, terrified by the implication.

A wicked smirk curling across her lips as she leaned in, her breath tracing a slow path along his skin, light as silk and twice as dangerous.

“Everything,” she whispered sweetly, leaning in as her lips brushed against his cheek. 

The ghosts of pornography past rose to haunt him. Oh god. Every embarrassing late-night search, every inappropriate glance and every dirty thought laid bare. And worse—the bemused look on her face told him she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“You have some... interesting tastes,” she teased, her tone laced with mischief.

Alex's face flushed deep red, equal parts humiliation and horror. He couldn’t bear to look her in the eyes. It all made sense now—she had him fooled for a moment, but the truth had revealed her. She wasn’t some cutesy monster woman. She was the spawn of the devil. A vile creature who tortured her victims by embarrassing them to death with their incognito search history.

“You… You are pure evil.” Alex accused, his voice bouncing off the cave walls as he pointed an accusatory finger at her, as if he could banish her through sheer indignation. 

Meliora laughed, wiping a few tears from her eyes as she tried to regain her composure. She paused, catching his mortified expression. "Ah ha-ha—I’m sorry. That was rude of me." Her smile dimmed slightly as she added, more gently, "I should have asked first. I was impatient... and a little over eager to get to know you." her lips curled into a grimace. "It’s only fair that I allow you to see who I am too." She hesitated, the confidence in her earlier words giving way to something more vulnerable even a little shy. "I can share some of my memories with you as well... If you'd like."

Alex hesitated. Every instinct screamed to back away to tell her she was insane. She had invaded his privacy, rifled through his most private thoughts without considering his opinion, all because she wanted to make sure he wasn’t a creep before marrying him without even stopping to ask if he wanted to get married. But refusing meant potentially turning away the only chance he had of escaping this place.

And yet—she’d been honest with him, even when it didn’t benefit her. No lies, no threats. And though she was clearly stronger than the other three, she hadn’t once tried to force him. Offering her memories felt less like a trap and more like a gesture of genuine trust. The least he could do was look.

She stepped forward placing a hand on either side of his head, cradling him as she gently leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. The moment their skin touched, something shifted, and the cave vanished.

Alex’s breath caught as vivid visions flooded his mind. A new-born’s blurred gaze. A warm room bathed in violet light. A woman of stunning beauty holding him—no, holding Meliora. Onyx hair cascading over her shoulders, black wings folded gently at her sides, a tail wrapped tenderly around the infant, a hand gently stroking her check.

Then a deeper, soothing presence steeped into frame. A towering mountain of a man his arms and face sporting several scars across his arms, neck and face. His hair was identical to his daughters, Elegant and a pure white that complimented his piercing grey eyes.
He placed a hand tenderly on the woman’s shoulder as they both lovingly gazed down at her. He laughed softly as her tiny hand wrapped around his finger, his smile full of pride and gentleness.

He understood now what Meliora had meant when she said she didn’t care about the attractiveness or power of her chosen mate. Compared to her father, he was a bum in a hoodie. The man radiated a level of strength and masculinity Alex couldn’t even imagine matching. And yet… there was kindness in his eyes, and a softness in his voice that spoke of someone completely unbothered by how others saw him, happily cooing at his daughter as he wiggled his fingers playfully beneath her chin.

It made Alex miss his own mum and dad. When had he last spoken to them?

Weeks? months?

It was amusing to watch these two Powerful and ancient beings reduced to putty in the hands of their infant daughter. He watched as he reached up to swat at her father’s long hair. The man’s rumbling laughter reverberated off the walls joined by the tired chuckles of her mother. The demon lord looked down at Meliora, exhausted but smiling lovingly as she nestled her daughter closer to her chest.

The image shifted and he found himself stumbling on a polished stone floor. It felt strange, seeing all of this through her eyes. Her parents sat cross-legged, hands outstretched as they cheered her on. Her arms wobbled as she struggled to keep her balance. He could feel her determination as she stepped forward, one shaky foot at a time. When she finally reached them, they erupted in cheers. Her father scooping her up, lifting her into the air, a dopey grin plastered on his face.

The images came faster after that—family meals, older sisters who adored and cherished her, games of hide-and-seek and bedtime stories read by her parents and siblings. It didn’t look like the life you’d expect from a succubus.

It looked… normal. Loving.

Too normal. It clashed with everything he’d come to believe about her kind. It made him wonder what else he might have been wrong about.

The next scene showed days out playing at the park. Other monster children playing on swing sets, chasing each other and laughter.

He noted that there were no monster men. But then again It made sense, she had said they were called “monster girls” not monster people.

More memories surfaced. Alex experienced the first time she flew. Her little wings flapped with all their might as her mother next to her ready to catch her whilst her sisters shouted encouragement from below.

He watched her create a spark between her fingers for the first time. The feeling unlike anything he’d experienced before. Like an electric current that ran deep inside his core.

Moments stitched together: her poring over ancient books, training beneath a crimson sky, magic flickering from her fingertips that one day would hold the power to level a continent. Faces of tutors and many boring lectures, intermixed with arguments with her sisters, playing with childhood friends blurred past. Alex watched as she grew from child to a moody teenager then finally, standing as a grown woman, radiant and powerful.

He watched as decades passed in brief flashes. She mastered spells, attended royal balls, sat in on war councils beside her parents and sisters. He saw her pour over reports about a faction called the Order of the Chief Goddess, her expression hardening at their atrocities. Monster villages burned families and children butchered with no mercy.

The irony of demons and monster women suffering at the hands of man in their world was not lost on him.

He saw her first taste of battle—watching as a manticore woman knocked a charging knight off his horse just as he was bearing down on her. Meliora, meanwhile, was locked in a magical duel, trading blows with a woman in priestly robes.

"Your kind is a blight upon the Chief Goddess Eres! I will send you back to the hells where you belong, monster!" she roared, her eyes glowing a radiant white as lightning crashed across the battlefield. The two sides charged once more, blades and magic colliding as the memory faded.

Alex wasn’t sure what disturbed him more. The order of the chief goddess' dogmatic mission of genocide, or that he found himself secretly rooting for the Mamono.

He found himself suddenly drifting through a vast, starlit void, countless lights pulsing around him. This place was an infinite and ancient realm that laid between realities. Few could enter it—fewer still could navigate its corridors. It was the birthplace of magic and where all Mamono drew their strength from.

The Weave.

She had discovered his presence by sheer chance. A gentle pulse shimmered briefly through the threads of this plane. Revealing the image of an ordinary man wearing clothes she didn’t recognize in a world that was alien to her. She had been drawn to him out of simple curiosity.

She had watched Alex as he pocketed the artifact. Her lip curled in distaste as he looked around skittish. Like a rat in a house of cats. She had found herself growing bored of him and had planned to cut the connection, but she didn’t. Instead, she had kept watching as he slunk out of the library.

Alex felt shame well up inside him. How must he have looked to her, Nothing more than a cowardly thief. Too cowed to bail out or do what was right. Just blindly following their orders for fear of them hurting him.

He crept up the stairs, wincing at every creak as he heard the soft murmurs of his accomplices. At the top of the stairs, he turned the two men pausing their conversation to glower at him. Alex had crept forward standing beside them as the two discussed a plan. He felt Meliora’s disgust swell at altitude and cruelty. Watching as they ordered him to take the room on the top left. To tie the girl inside up and use the knife if she tries anything.

He remembered the anger and disgust he felt. They had agreed to rob the place, not harass, and terrorize the women. Yet he had said nothing, willing to tie up and hold a girl at knife point in exchange for not having to survive on cheap gas station noodles and scraping by on rent.

I really was pathetic.

Before they entered, they had warned him not to fuck this up or they would kill him. He felt Meliora’s anger and disgust openly as she watched the scene with barely contained loathing.

Alex winced as he found himself back where it had all gone wrong. The room was dark; the only sound was his breathing, hitched and shaky as he spotted a girl standing in the middle of the room. She watches him with a sickly-sweet smile. Her violet eyes glowing unnaturally, her voice like poisoned honey.

“You look so frail... Like you’ll fall over and... Die... Within seconds” Myusca giggled, flicking the light on with magic. Approaching as he felt Meliora’s horror rise.

“I think that’s enough,” Meliora whispered. Alex blinked and found himself back in the cave. His hoodie was damp with sweat; His breath came in short gasps. He swallowed hard, fighting to keep the nausea from overwhelming him.

He looked up at her with a strained, crooked smile. “You missed out on all the erotism,” he joked weakly, voice cracking as his body trembled.

Meliora didn’t smile. “You’ve already suffered through this once,” she said softly. “No one should be forced to witness their own torment a second time.”

Alex felt embarrassment well up inside. She had seen it... all of it. every stupid mistake, every humiliating end. She had seen those three torment and use him. The thought made his stomach twist.

“You know what, I am a cowardly weak fool who tried to rob a place to score some easy cash. You saw what I did to that Pizza guy. How can you possibly think I am a good person?”

“Because despite what I saw, I also saw how you looked at those men, not with jealousy or petty anger, but disgust. When you realized what they were planning, you were repulsed. And that, to me, made you worth watching.” She paused, offering him a small, encouraging smile.

“More than that... When you sacrificed that man—” her voice softened, “it nearly broke you.”

“So?” Alex snapped, his frustration rising. “I still did it. What does it matter if I felt remorse? That man died because I wanted to live. Because I was too much of a coward to face another death.”

Meliora didn’t flinch. Her tail flicked once behind her, slow and controlled. “It matters,” she said, firmly but not unkindly, “because you refused to do it again. You didn’t justify it. You didn’t try to pretend it was for a worthy cause. You were horrified by what you'd done—and you didn’t repeat your mistake.”

She stepped closer.

“You endured something unimaginable, Alex. Over and over. And despite the pain and torment, you chose not to abandon your humanity. Do you have any idea how rare that is?”

He opened his mouth to reply. Hoping he could crack a weak joke, but she held a finger out.

“I know you use humour to shield yourself,” she said gently, reaching out and stroking his arm lovingly. “But you don’t have to hide the pain from me. I’ve seen it, felt it. And I don’t think any less of you. You’re a good man Alex, even if you don’t see it.”

He was quiet for a moment, struggling to think of a response. He wanted to brush it off, make a joke or even dismiss it. But he was tired and deep down he wanted what she said to be true. Even if he didn’t quite believe it.

Thank you.” He whispered, voice raw and shaky.

“You’re welcome… I only wish we had more time to speak,” she sighed, her heels scuffing the ground as she lightly pivoted from one foot to the other.

Alex tilted his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“The connection holding me here is fading,” she admitted. “Had I not hijacked the summoning, you likely would’ve called forth a lesser demon—or something far more dangerous. But something of my power… was never meant to be summoned at all.”

She looked down at her hands. “Even this form is just a shadow of my true self. And even that won’t last much longer in your world.”

Her gaze returned to his, steady and urgent. “So, if you have questions, ask them now. I’ll do my best to answer while I still can.”

He was taken aback by the sudden shift in her tone. After a moment, he asked her“Can you get me out of here?”

The question made her smile slip, replaced with a grimace.

“I wish I could. I want nothing more than to snap my finger and bring you here. But the bridge between our worlds isn’t strong enough. The tether keeping me here is fragile and failing by the minute. Were I to try to teleport you, it would most likely kill you in the process.”

“Well… shit,” Alex muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “So, I’m still stuck here with three women who want me dead.” He finished with a defeated groan.

“I understand your frustration but whilst I cannot wave my hand and free you from this place. I may be able to help you survive.” She replied with a small grin spreading across her lips.

“How?” Alex demanded, voice coming out sharper than he intended. “You saw what they did to me. What could possibly help me against them, save for maybe Excalibur?”

“When a man interacts with a mamono, he naturally absorbs traces of her demonic energy. Changing his body and mana to better suit a mamono needs. This is a process known as Incubization. Though the process can happen without sex, it is accelerated greatly with intimacy. Once the change starts, a man will find he becomes stronger, faster, more resilient, and may even develop an affinity for magic.

Alex blinked, trying to process what she was saying. “Wait, so you can give me superpowers if I sleep with you?”

Meliora gave him a flat look. “That’s… an extremely crude way of putting it. But not entirely wrong.”

A grin tugged at his lips. Feeling a flicker of hope rising. “Are there any side effects? Will I sprout wings or stick to walls?” Meliora rolled her eyes, lightly cuffing him across the head.

“You stay human smart ass. Just with a few abilities to help you keep up with your mate. Though as much as it saddens me, we don’t have time to fully Incubize you. This form doesn’t have enough power, and we don’t have the time for foreplay, never mind the main event. But I can start the process if you desire." She grinned, taking a half step forward.

Alex studied her, his initial excitement giving way to guarded suspicion as he weighed his options. Part of him was screaming that he should run. Rattling off reasons that she was dangerous. That this was all a trap, he couldn’t trust her, and a deal this good—always had a catch. 

But there was another part of him deep down... that whispered that he should take it. He was tired of dying, of being weak. Had he not suffered enough? Was it not about time that he got something to even the scales, if only a little. If she wanted him under her control or dead she had proven herself strong enough to do it. So why not take her deal and gain something useful?

His thoughts raged for a few more moments, tumbling over one another in a storm of doubt and desperation. Meliora watched him, unblinking as he paced back and forth. With an exhale he paused. With a stiff nod, he gave his answer.

“…Alright. I’m not saying I fully trust this. But if this gives me a shot… then yeah. Incubize me.”

Meliora’s smile widened, a flicker of mischief dancing in her eyes. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” She whispered, not giving him time to reply, she closed the gap and kissed him.

Alex gasped at the warmth that flooded through him. Her lips were impossibly soft, sending shivers up his spine. Her hands wandered across his body before settling behind his head, pulling him closer. The hunger was familiar to him. Myusca, Nemea and Vinum all possessed a similar intensity when they fed. But the affection… the tenderness… that was new.

The kiss deepened with growing intensity. His hand subconsciously slid around her waist, fingers gently pressing against the small of her back. Her tail wrapped around his arm keeping it in place as she pulled him closer. Her tongue brushed his lips, playful but insistent. Like she was giving him the option to willingly allow her passage before she seized it. With a sigh he parted his lips as she slipped past, exploring his mouth hungrily.

When they finally broke apart, it was breathless and heated. Alex blinked, dazed. Meliora’s hands gripped his arms, nails lightly digging into his skin. There was a flush on her cheeks and something fierce in her eyes. Her gaze fixed on him like she wasn’t ready to let go.

"Wow." Alex gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. The tingling warmth seemed to spread from his lips to the rest of his body. He’d never felt anything like that before, his breath coming out in shaky gasps. The intensity and passion felt like something that belonged between long-time lovers. Yet despite it all, it felt right.

Meliora breath came in shallow bursts as she placed a hand to her chest, her cheeks flushed. “Wow indeed. That was… something else,” she murmured, her fingers brushing his arm. Alex nodded dumbly, wracking his brains for something to say. Anything to make him not look like a stuttering virgin.

His eyes flicked down in embarrassment, and he froze, to his horror, her left hand... was gone. No blood or bone just simply gone. Her eyes followed where he was staring, a soft grimace crossing her face.

“Is your hand okay?” Alex whispered, giving a look of concern.

“My hand is fine, though it seems I have less time than I thought.” she finished with a tight smile. Her eyes refocused on him. “I can only remain in this world for another few minutes so listen closely, Alex. That kiss transferred a portion of my mana into you. I don’t have time to explain, but it should give you a fighting chance.”

Alex's eyes light up at her words “That’s awesome. A fighting chance is better than no chance. See how smug they are when I sucker punch one of them.” Alex half joked a surge of confidence bubbling up through him for the first time in what felt like forever.

Her expression turned serious. She gently pinches his jaw, guiding his face back to hers. “I cannot stress this enough! A fighting chance. You're not untouchable, Alex. They’re still more than capable of killing you.”

His grin faltered. “Right... Got it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish now. “No punching demons.”
She snorted at his response, extending her right arm. “I also have something I need to return to you. I believe you dropped this?” With a snap of her fingers A familiar hourglass materialized in the palm of her hand as Alex's eyes went wide.

“Holy shit.” he gasped, voice trembling with disbelief. He could barely believe it as he hesitantly reached out and grabbed it. Cautiously he turned the hourglass over, examining it's new and in his opinion improved appearance.  The twisted, screaming face that had been the centrepiece of the artifact was gone. In its place was a smooth golden succubus. She sat kneeling in the frame. Her expression was peaceful, almost pleased, like she had been waiting for him to return. Nothing about it felt threatening, not like before. It didn’t feel like a cursed object. For once, It felt... like an ally rather than a burden.

“Inside the hourglass. I have placed instructions for a ritual. With the right power source, it can open a portal that would connect our worlds. But to power it you will need to retrieve the Mana crystal from Vinum’s room. It will act as a magic reservoir and keep the portal open.”

She pauses, eyes flitting away from him as she lightly bites her lip, like she is deciding whether to continue or not. "Alex... as well as powering the portal, the mana crystal has another purpose. When infused with a hair from each of the succubi in this house it will disable the magical seal placed over the house. This would allow you to escape...” Meliora’s voice caught on the last word. Alex noticed her jaw tremble slightly, just for a second, before she pressed her lips together.

For a moment, Alex didn’t move. Then tentatively he spoke. “You’re saying… I could actually leave?”

Meliora licked her lips, her hand drumming against her leg as she continued. "If that’s what you want... I won’t stop you. I want you to be free. Even if it’s not with me." She whispered.

Alex didn’t speak. He didn’t have the words, internally he was torn. On the one hand he wanted to escape more than anything. To be free of this nightmare and the misery he had endured. But on the other hand, this woman had shared her memories with him, healed his shoulder, and gave him comfort and encouragement. She had been honest, kind, and never once tried to force him. And now, she was offering him a way out, a chance at freedom, even if it meant he’d leave her behind. Alex hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing in.

He honestly believed that she was trying to trick him. It felt too sincere, even Nemea with her charm and gentle facade gave off a malicious vibe. Meliora hadn’t tried to charm him. Hell, she had been brutally honest with him. If she had wanted to manipulate him into doing what she said, why give him the information he needed to leave?

As he debated internally, Meliora fidgeted slightly watching him. Her eyes glimmered with hope even as her calm facade cracked showing hints of fear and vulnerability underneath.

Her voice lowered, steady but fragile. “I understand I am asking a lot, and you have no incentive or obligation to help—” Alex silences her with a kiss, his hand gently clasping hers as he lightly brushes her knuckles with his thumb.

Meliora lets out a sigh as she returns the kiss, her waist gone as her other wing dissolving into nothing. Pulling back Alex moves his right hand to tenderly clasp her cheek, a grin on his lips.

“Meliora, you have given me more than I can ever hope to repay you.” Alex hesitates for a second. “I’m not sure if I am ready for any of this. Rituals, other worlds, and marriage. But you are the only person to show me a shred of kindness since entering this place. So you have my word. I’ll do everything I can to open that portal.” He paused, meeting her eyes one last time. “And after that, we’ll figure the rest out... together.”

Her outline shimmered, edges blurring like mist in sunlight. Bit by bit, the light within her began to dim, her form growing fainter with each heartbeat, the two simply looked at each other—neither willing to look away.

“The mana crystal will require a great deal more than just a few hairs to power it fully. Find a way to perform it. Look for any artifacts or magical sources.” she whispered, her voice almost gone. “I know you won’t fail... my love.” Then she was gone, leaving him staring into empty space. Alex looked down at the hourglass still resting in his palm. He half-expected it to be gone too. The little succubus inside was the only evidence any of it had actually happened.

Demon lords, Lilims and sexy monster women, ... a world of magic, adventure, and knights. Now here I am about to open a portal to it all. All so the equivalent of a tactical nuke in a dress and high heels can claim me as her husband. If there was a book on how not to stick your dick in crazy, Meliora would have a whole chapter dedicated to her.

Dating Red Flags with Succubi You absolutely Shouldn’t Ignore. He snorted, shaking his head. The worst part of all this? I’m going to go through with it. One pretty smile, a bit of sympathy, and apparently, I’m ready to throw myself headfirst into magical bullshit with no plan.

Alex emerged into the basement, fumbling around in his jeans. He pulls his phone out but stops his eyes scanning the basement with confusion.

“Is it me,” he muttered scratching his head, “or does it feel brighter in here?”

He blinked lightly shaking his head wondering if it was a trick. No, it was definitely brighter now. Twenty minutes ago, he was barely able to see two steps ahead with his phone’s light. But now? He could faintly see the outline of the walls and see the sand at his feet. It was still dark, but it wasn’t pitch black anymore.

“I wonder if this is one of the abilities she spoke about. He pondered idly, kicking a small rock as he walked. She did mention strength and endurance but against those three I don’t know how useful that will be when they can just paralyze me with a spell or look.

But then again being faster and stronger would definitely be useful in evading them. If nothing else, it would make killing the imp a lot easier and getting round the house too.

As he made his way over his mind drifted back to what he’d seen in Meliora’s memories. He lamented how easy men on the other side had it. An entire world full of beautiful monster women—sweet, loyal, and built like something out of an erotic fantasy game. All willing to marry average looking guys and do things you only saw in Porno’s.

Meanwhile, he got stuck in Groundhog Day with the three stooges of sadism. He paused chuckling at his joke. If they were the three stooges, that would make Myusca Curly? God… Then Vinum had to be Moe. He laughed despite himself, biting his lip as he tried to stifle the noise. All he could picture was Vinum slapping the other two and shouting, “Numbskulls!”—her tail lashing behind her in agitation. The absurdity only grew. One scene after another played out in his head, replacing the Three Stooges with the three succubi.

By the time he reached the ladder, there were tears streaming down his face. It was so stupid. So unbelievably stupid. But for the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t feel hopeless.

Gingerly wiping away the tears, he grabbed the ladder. His stomach still ached from laughing, a warmth still buzzing in his chest that refused to die down. It felt like everything was finally coming together. And if he died ten more times or a hundred then so be it. He started to climb, boots thudding softly against each rung. The air above was warmer, the silence oddly comfortable.

Reaching the top Alex hauled himself out with a quiet grunt. His eyes scanned the kitchen for any sign of Vinum before he knelt down. Being mindful of the noise he gently slid the trap door back into place, small clicks echoing as it locked. Placing the false floor cover back down over the hatch.

With the task done, Alex groaned and stretched, lifting his arms overhead until his joints popped with a satisfying crack. Crossing through the kitchen, he moved into the living room, the soft creak of the floorboards following each step.

Light filtered in through the patio doors to his left, soft and golden, catching on the neatly arranged tea set that sat on the dining table. The rug beneath was a rich blue with golden trimming, the material was slightly worn, its edges curling just enough to snag a careless foot. A faint scent of old wood and flowers lingered in the air. A potted plant sitting snug in the top left corner. To the right, the hallway waited.

He had a plan. Wait until Vinum leaves the library and search for books on power sources/ magical artifacts. It was a long shot, but he might get something. Failing that, maybe snoop around Vinum’s room. If anyone would have old magical artifacts it would be her. Also search for their hairs. Somehow, he didn’t see himself being able to pluck one of their hairs out. Even for a succubi that would still hurt.

He turned to leave—then paused. A flicker of movement at the edge of his vision, just beyond the glass doors. Turning with a sharp pivot his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of an unwelcoming shape looming just beyond the patio doors.

His head tilted upwards at the massive form of the manticore. His lips pursed as he took in the sight of her. The beast woman stared back, drool dripping from her mouth, razor sharp teeth glinting in the afternoon light. Her gaze was fixated on him. A mindless, ravenous hunger lurking behind her red eyes.

He realized he'd never really stopped to look at her before. Usually, it was fleeting glimpses when passing through the living room or the few times he had looked out his window. Even that one time she had managed to grab him he had been more focused on trying to escape than studying her.

Looking her over he couldn’t help but marvel at her. She was beautiful and monstrous at the same time.

Her lower half was the stuff of myth: the muscular body of a lion, golden fur broken by a thick curtain of tangled crimson mane that spilled down from her waist in wild, unkempt waves. Four massive paws, each tipped with claws like daggers, shifted as she prowled forward.

A pair of leathery bat wings that shuffled and twitched against her side as she prowled towards the patio. She bore a scorpion’s tail, thick and segmented, clad in armor-like chitin that gleamed like polished obsidian. Her tail ended in a thick, rounded bulb, a curved stinger jutting out of its center like a monstrous syringe.

By contrast, her upper body was unsettlingly human. Her torso alone dwarfed him. Her skin, a sun-kissed brown that stretched over coiled muscle. Her abs displayed a sculpted six-pack that flexed with every slight movement.

Alex's eyes briefly glanced over her chest. Her breasts were impossible to ignore; large, firm and held an unnaturally perkiness—as if gravity was a mere suggestion. He looked upwards, his eyes meeting hers as she glowered at him. Her crimson hair is a messy disaster, filled with tangles and knots.

“You would think Myusca would at least bother her arse to brush your hair.” he muttered, unflinching as her breath fogged the glass. Her nose was inches from his, only a thin pane between them.

Her eyes bored into his with predatory intent. Her lower half lying down as she simply watched him. Her hands flexing ready to snatch him should he even think about opening the door.

““The first thing I’m doing when I make that portal,” he said, voice low and dry, “is have Meliora turn you into a fur coat.” Alex chuckled. The manticore slammed her fists into the ground. The glass shook but held, her frustration doing little more than rattling the door frame. The noise made Alex wince as he lightly massaged his head.

With a huff she stood back up, stretching in a similar manner to a cat as she started pacing back and forth, her eyes never leaving his own. Her agitation was clear in the way her wings twitched at her side, her tail thrashing back and forth. Each footstep sent a dull thump through the floor, the sound rattling in his skull.

As he watched, the amusement he felt at her frustration began to fade. He swallowed, idly chewing on his lip. It was idiotic and naïve, but looking at her he didn’t feel rage or disgust like he had before. Instead he felt sympathy for her. Before him wasn’t a tormentor or an evil demon. Instead he saw a creature trapped in a sad, pitiful state. Summoned by a succubi who treated it like a toy. And whilst the manticore had eaten him once. Unlike the succubi, she had an excuse. She was an animal—driven by relentless hunger, and fiercely loyal to a neglectful moron.

They only seemed to feed her the leftovers of their own meals. Somehow, he doubted a few empty husks a week could sustain something her size. It was no wonder she was always so agitated, always watching for potential food.

“Jesus’ fuck, Alex,” he muttered to himself. “You and your bleeding heart.”

The words were harsh, but not untrue. He’d always had a soft spot for animals. And looking at her now, it was hard to see a soulless demon. The agitation in her movements, the restlessness in her eyes—it all reminded him of a caged, starving big cat. One twisted by neglect.

He wasn’t naive. A can of tuna and a warm hug wouldn’t change the manticore. Myusca had trained her to kill any humans who tried to escape. Still... he couldn’t help but wonder if there was some way to ease her hunger. If only so she’d stop growling at him every time he stepped into the living room.

With one last pitying glance, he turned walking out the living room, her frustrated growls echoing behind him.

He’d barely stepped into the hallway when a sharp throbbing pain pulsed behind his eyes. His breath caught as he gripped his head, jaw clenched as he gasped. The hallway wobbled around him as he staggered, catching himself against the wall with a dull thump. His legs were shaking like jelly as he tried to steady himself. “I need to get back to my room.” he whispered, breathing suddenly laboured, his eyes squinted as he lay half slumped against the wall, the world spinning. What the hell was wrong with him? A minor headache now felt like a full blown migraine. He needed to get back to his room. Maybe lie down.

Reaching the stairs his hand clumsily grasped the banister as he started to climb. Every step felt like a monumental effort. His stomach twisted painfully as he tried to keep the nausea down. He had only made it half way up when behind him, a voice like honey broke the silence.

“Ara... I wonder what you’re doing here?”

His blood ran cold. He didn’t need to turn to recognize that playful, mocking tone.

Nemea.

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed chapter 4. A few bits I will say to hopefully elevate any worries. he will not be gaining OP abilities. He isn't going to be fist fighting them not in any serious/ effective capacity anyway. And I won't have him suddenly able to call down meteors or able to throw them though walls.

I also plan to start focusing more on his relationship with the other beings in this house. I will try to build this up and tell a rich story.

Any advice, comments or suggestions are always welcome. Please leave a comment as I adore the feedback and views of you all. And if you think this story has earned it leave a kudos. Thank you all so much for your support.

Chapter 5: Memories and regret

Notes:

Hi all want to apologize in advance. My grandfather sadly passed away a week ago and as a result my writing has been a bit over the place for this one. I spent weeks reworking and reediting this. Which hasn't helped and have twice re-wrote the ending. This story hasn't been proof so I ask if you have the time please point out any mistakes I may have made. There may be bits where I have written the same thing twice. I use google docs and tend to copy and paste anything I write into other pages and come back to them if I think they are good on occasion I don't delete them on the chapter page and end up writing the same thing again. I am not a pro at writing but I really enjoy writing this. So please enjoy.

 A curse slipped from his lips as he flinched at her voice. He didn’t have the energy or the patience to deal with her right now. With a grimace he turned with a slow reluctance. Nemea was standing at the bottom of the stairs. She leaned slightly on one hip. A wicked smile on her lips, eyes glinting as she watched him, like a cat who had cornered a mouse. 

 

 The stairs creaked under him as he shifted from one foot to the other. Tremors ran though his arms, the stairwell banister acting as a crutch, the only thing keeping him from collapsing. He was struggling to even focus on Nemea, black spots dancing at the edges of his vision. How could I have been so sloppy? He berated himself harshly. He gave a sharp wince, even his inner monologue felt too loud. If I had just checked my phone, I would have known Nemea was leaving the bathroom. 

 

Nemea’s eyes sparkled with amusement, mistaking his trembling form for fear. “Ufufu... I wonder why you’re not upstairs,” she mused, tilting her head, one hand resting lazily against her cheek. “You’re not doing anything suspicious, are you~?” She finished her voice carrying a teasing lilt. He gritted his teeth as another wave of pain rolled through him. Her voice, despite being soft and pleasant to the ears, at this moment feels like nails on a chalkboard. 

 

He didn’t respond, he couldn’t respond, he was barely able to stand. His head throbbed with every beat of his heart, the pain rising in sickening waves. Nemea’s presence and questions were only aggravating things. The stairwell felt like it was spinning the lights above pulsing with a sickening brightness that made his eyes water. 

 

He needed to come up with a plan to bullshit his way out of this. He could maybe tell her the toilet wasn’t working. He’d used that excuse before and unlike Vinum she usually couldn’t be bothered to check. Or he could say Myusca had sent him to grab her a drink from the fridge. He still had half a carton of milk. He needed to say something... anything.

 

“What's wrong... she teased, “Can’t think of an excuse?”  

 

All he wanted to do was crawl into a dark room and pass out. But instead, he was stuck playing mind games with this bitch. Though something felt different. Every other time he had been caught. Just being in their presence was enough to leave him rooted in place, trembling and struggling to breathe. But now? He didn’t know if it was the migraine or some lingering effect of Meliora’s magic but right now, all he felt was pain and annoyance. irritation gnawing in the back of his mind. He wanted to lash out, rip into her for the repeated humiliation they had put him through and every slow death he had suffered. 

 

But that would just get him killed so for now he gave his excuse. “I’ve a headache,” he muttered, dragging in a shaky breath. “I came downstairs to see if there were any painkillers.” he finished weakly, sweat trickling down his brow. He could feel his grip going slack as the effort to stay standing became increasingly challenging. A fresh wave of nausea twisted his gut, but he kept his eyes on her, trying to mask the trembling in his jaw.

 

She let out a light laugh. “Painkillers? Why would we keep medicine in the house? We don’t get sick.” 

 

Well, goodie for you, you condescending smug prick he mentally growled, wishing he had the strength to strangle her. Anything to wipe that smug smirk of her face. Another lance of pain broke his musings as he hissed in pain, swaying slightly. 

 

Gritting his teeth Alex forced out a response. “Fair enough,” he muttered quietly. “I was heading back to my room anyway.” He was too tired to argue with her. Too sore to 

 

“Oh, is that so...” She purred, “well you best get back before someone suspects you of doing something naughty.” She paused for a moment, smiling mischievously. 

 

He bit his tongue not wanting to make things worse. But it was hard, he was so sick of their shit. Just relax and think happy thoughts. 

 

“Make sure not to go exploring again. I might mistake your wandering for trying to escape...” She paused, letting the words hang, eyes glittering with amusement. “I would have no choice but to gobble you up~.” 

 

Shuddering at her words, he gave a stiff nod. With a laboured breath, he turned and trudged up the stairs, feet dragging with each step. The pain was getting worse. Behind him, he could feel her watching. But he didn’t dare turn around. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction. 

 

Reaching the top, he turned right and shakily made his way down the corridor. At the next corner, he winced, leaning against the wall for support. The edges of his vision had begun to darken, shadows creeping inward. 

 

The hallway stretched before him, dimly lit by soft, recessed lights overhead. Alex forced one foot in front of the other, his shoulder dragging along the wall for support. Doors passed on either side blurred shapes in a corridor that felt too long. He didn’t care which room belonged to who. All that mattered was getting to the end. His breathing was shallow, uneven, as he stumbled forward, too exhausted to even attempt being stealthy. 

 

He pulled himself around the corner, the pain reaching its zenith. It felt like someone was jamming white hot rods into his eyes and brain. Worse, the halfway seemed to move, rocking subtly from side to side. Just enough to make him feel dizzy. He passed the bathroom, and he felt his legs wobble causing him to stagger left. A weak groan escaped him as he slumped against a door, forehead resting against the wood while he fought to steady his breathing.

 

“Thank god for small miracles,” he murmured. Somehow, he’d made it to his room. Relief washed through him. All he had to do was get inside and then he could pass out.

 

His fingers, clumsy and half-numb, fumbled along the wood until they found cool metal. A twist—then a soft click echoed in the hallway. He staggered inside, dragging the door shut behind him. Resting his head against the door he allowed himself a moment to get his bearings. One shaky hand found the light switch, and with a flick, the room went dark.

 

Alex dragged himself toward the bed. Kicking his shoes off as he collapsed face first onto the cool pillow. An exhausted sigh slipped from him as he closed his eyes. The room was silent as darkness helped to soothe the pain. The room sways around him, each slow turn churning his stomach like a teacup ride from hell. His head gave a final agonizing pulse before he passed out.

---

With a weak groan Alex’s eyes flutter open. A vast darkness greets him as his eyes can just about make out the outlines of his fingers. His body feels weightless, like he’s floating in a bottle of ink. The sensation is alien… and deeply unsettling. He tries to move but finds the rest of his body is frozen, like a statue.

 

“Where am I?” he mutters, looking around him trying to make out anything in the suffocating blackness. His question is met with an oppressive silence. 

 

Well, that isn’t ominous. Dread starts to coil slowly in his stomach. Questions claw at his thoughts. 

 

What was going on? 

 

Was he dead?

 

His thoughts are interrupted as something seems to shift, a small pulse of light sparking. The darkness vanished as colour strobes in front of him. A sound cuts through the silence. A child’s laughter, unmistakable as Alex tilts his head wondering what the hell was going on. The vibrant swirling colours seem to engulf him, pulsing and shifting into a blinding white.

 

 

“MIMI!” A young Alex yelled excitedly, barging through his neighbour’s front door without a care in the world. He paused just long enough to kick off his shoes before racing into the living room, clutching a wrinkled piece of paper in his hand.

 

The living room was spacious, with a small TV in the corner and a comfy armchair and couch arranged neatly around a coffee table. He’d spent many evenings here—sneaking over to watch cartoons with Mimi or helping her bake in the kitchen.

 

He paused in the living room scanning for any sign of her, hearing faint singing as he tried to pinpoint its direction. The voice was soft and graceful, each note rising and falling like a gentle breeze. He only knew a little Japanese, so he couldn’t understand the words… but the melody sounded pretty.

 

“Mimi where are you?” he called out impatiently, his head swivelling as he looked for his friend. The singing stopped, followed by a gentle chuckle from the kitchen. She moved with a slow, effortless grace, as if nothing in the world could rush her. Her hair was chestnut brown, long and softly tousled. It fell in gentle waves down her back, a few loose locks swaying around her cheeks. Her smile widening upon seeing him.

 

She wore a beautiful green Sundress that complimented her white heels. A small golden bracelet rested on her wrist. 

 

“Alex dear, what brings you here so early in the day?” she asked, switching to English, just as she always did with him.

 

Alex came skidding to a stop in front of her, his socks slipping slightly on the floor. “I made something for you!” he yelled excitedly, shifting from foot to foot, practically vibrating as he clutched his drawing tightly in his hand.

 

Mimi gave a soft laugh, approaching him as she crouched down, her eyes sparkling with a warm affection as she affectionately ruffled his hair.

 

“Oh? May I see it?”

 

He held the paper out proudly. “It’s us!” he grinned. “That’s me—see? And that’s you. And that’s a rainbow—because I thought it’d be cool.” His finger jabbed at each crayon scribble as Mimi nodded along with a soft smile.

 

She took the drawing gently, her expression softening even more. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, studying the drawing. Her finger hovered near the bottom. “And what’s this down here?”

 

Alex puffed out his chest a little. “That’s my name! Miss Hayashi helped me write it in Japanese!” He pointed to the careful, slightly shaky characters scrawled near the bottom.

 

“It's perfect,” she affirmed, brushing a bit of hair from his forehead. “This is going on the fridge. Right in the middle.”

 

“You promise?” he gasped, peeking up at her with hopeful eyes.

 

“Cross my heart,” she whispered, leaning in as she pulled him into a gentle hug, her arms wrapping around him like a warm blanket.

 

“Too mushy!” he whined, pouting though he didn’t pull away. Mimi giggled and kissed the top of his head. “Bleeh,” Alex gagged, sticking out his tongue dramatically, which only made her laugh harder.

 

Pulling back, Mimi smiled kindly, listening as Alex chattered about his day—drawing pictures, playing tag, and someone bringing cookies to class. But he was quick to say they weren’t as tasty as hers.

 

She moved into the Kitchen pinning the photo on the Fridge as promised as Alex beamed at it. On the fridge were a myriad of drawings and doodles he had made for her. All displayed on her fridge with pride.

 

Licking his lips, Alex reached out and gave the hem of her sundress a gentle tug, fidgeting slightly. “You’ll keep it forever… right?” he asked, his voice small.

 

Mimi gave his hand a gentle squeeze, her smile softening. “Forever and ever.”

 

--------

With a gasp, his thoughts slammed back into place, like he was surfacing from a deep, black ocean. He blinked, disoriented, trying to get his bearings.

 

What the hell was going on? That hadn’t felt like a memory. It felt like he was five again, living through it in real time.

 

There was a small part of him that wonders why that memory specifically? He hadn’t thought about Mimi in years… not properly anyway. He couldn’t even remember her real name. All he remembered was developing a small crush on her when he was six. Shortly before he had moved back to Scotland. 

Before he could muse further a familiar pulse rippled through the darkness. The world shifted again—colours bleeding and fading into something new.

--------

The front door slammed open as Alex stomped inside, his footsteps heavy and sharp against the wooden floor. Behind him, his father followed, tossing the house keys into the dish by the coat rack with a metallic clink .

 

“Will you get off my back?” Alex snapped, storming into the living room and flinging his school bag onto the couch. He spun on his heel, glaring toward the hallway as his father came in after him, face already twisted in anger.

 

“You got into a fight on your third day.” His father growled. “I had to leave work early to speak with the principal.” 

 

“It wasn’t a big deal! The guy shoved me, so I hit him.”

 

“You broke his nose, Alex. You’re lucky you didn’t get expelled.”

 

“He was being a twat.” he snapped, crossing his arms tight across his chest. “Not my fault he couldn’t fight.” 

 

“Jesus! Could you think before you act for once?” His father jabbed a finger at him, eyes blazing. “Ever since we moved, it’s been the same damn story. You don’t go out, you don’t even try to make friends, and now you’re getting into fights. When are you going to grow up and appreciate what we’ve got here?”

 

“I didn’t even want to come back!” he shouted, voice cracking with anger. “I was happy in Scotland. My friends were there—my girlfriend was there. But no, you dragged me back here for your precious job.”

 

“That precious job is what keeps you fed, clothed and a roof over your head. Try showing a little gratitude for once in your life.” His father spat. “

 

“Whoop-dee-fucking-do,” Alex muttered, rolling his eyes. “All so I can end up in a cubicle like you.”

 

His father’s face went red and for a moment, it looked like he was going to explode. But instead, he exhaled hard and pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose. A defeated sigh escaped his lips as his shoulders slumped. 

 

“Why are you being so difficult?” he asked, quieter now, the edge in his voice softening. “We’ve lived in Japan before. You made friends. You loved it here when you were a child.”

 

 Alex continued to pace, agitated and needing to vent his grievances. “I was four years old, and we were only here for a few years last time. I was happy in Scotland.” his voice dropped, taking on a more vulnerable edge. “I just want to go home.”

 

His dad’s face softened, his anger vanishing. With an awkward cough he gently placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. 

 

“...This is our home now,” he said gently. “We just have to make the most of it.” A small, playful smile tugged at his mouth. “Maybe we could reach out to your old friend Mimi. You always had a thing for her, didn’t you?” he teased, lightly elbowing him. “Chin up son, I hear older women like young men.” He finishes with a laugh.

 

“Dad,” Alex yelled mortified at what he was saying. “Last time I saw her, I was, like, six. She probably doesn’t even remember me.”

 

His dad’s smile only widened. “I wouldn’t be so sure. That woman adored you Alex, your mother use to have nightmares that she was going to run off with you and adopt you.” He joked as Alex gave a weak laugh in response.

 

“I think her last name was Raion. If you want, I could send her a message on Facebook? His dad offered as Alex paused to consider it.

 

“No… I’m okay. It was so long ago. I think it would just be awkward.

 

His dad’s smile faltered as he hesitantly nodded. 

 

“Fair enough,” he muttered with a tight smile. “Well at the very least… could you try not to get into any more fights… Please.”

 

Alex gave a weak nod, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

“...Okay.”

--------

The void returned as the memory faded. 

 

Alex gave a small grimace. That part of his life had been a mess. He’d just moved back to Japan at sixteen, stuck in a place where his sense of humour didn’t land and his attitude rubbed people the wrong way. He had been an outsider desperately trying to find a place where he belonged. 

 

There was another flash and reality shifted once more.

--------

 

Rain soaked through Alex’s hoodie, the sodden fabric uncomfortable against his skin as he stormed down the cracked pavement. The freezing cold did nothing to cool the anger simmering beneath the surface. His parents' voices still rang in his ears. His mother crying, trying to play peacemaker, his dad screaming something about "getting his life sorted." and “Not showing his face here until he apologized.” 

 

Whatever. Screw them, he was eighteen he could make his own decisions in life.

 

The night had started off well enough. His mum and dad had invited him over for dinner. Typical of his father, the first comment had been about his jeans and jumper. Then it shifted to his "dead-end job" and lack of work ethic. He always did this, tearing him down before going on about some work colleague’s son and how much better they were.

 

His father had spoken about his boss' son and how he had just signed on to work at his father’s company. Oh, how his dad gushed over him. The guy was top of his class, studying for his master’s in engineering and how he had just bought his first house with his fiancée. 

 

Admittedly that hadn’t been the best time to tell him he had flunked out of college. But right then, all Alex had wanted was to hurt his dad back. He was sick of being reminded of what a screw-up he was.

 

So, what if he dropped out? The classes were bullshit. And in the end for what? To rot in a cubicle, working 80-hour weeks for the privilege of unpaid overtime and no time off?

 

Fuck that noise. 

 

His dad always did this. Accused him of failing due to laziness or spite, never bad luck or just life being hard. It was always his fault when things went wrong.

 

He paused mid internal rant as his phone buzzed. Pulling it out, he cupped a hand over the screen to shield it from the rain. With a groan he recognized the familiar name of his boss. 

 

[Tuesday, 10th Sep – 20:42 PM]

Boss (Hiroshi):

Hey Alex. Just a heads-up — Jodie called in sick for tomorrow. I need you to cover her shift. Try to be on time, yeah?

 

"Fuck my life. Another double?" Alex snapped, thumbs tapping the screen as he started to write a reply. 

 

"I miss one shift, and I get chewed out, but she takes time off every other week for whatever bullshit she's got going on, leaving me to pick up the slack as usual. Yet somehow, I’m the unreliable one. Perks of fucking the guy who signs our pay cheque I guess." He gave a snort of disgust, "work-shy lazy bastard."

 

Alex stared at the screen for a moment. His thumb hovered over the keyboard as a dozen angry replies ran through his mind—each one more scathing than the last. But in the end, he needed the money so with a heavy heart he typed out a quick response lazily swiping off droplets of rain.

 

[Tuesday, 10th Sep – 20:43 PM]

 

Alex

 

Yeah, that’s fine. 

 

See you tomorrow =)

 

“Prick,” he muttered, hitting send before shoving the phone back into his pocket. He walked for a few more minutes. The soft hum of distant traffic and the steady patter of rain were the only sounds keeping him company.

 

The glow of the streetlamps reflected off the wet pavement, casting everything in a pale orange blur. His thoughts darkened as he retraced where it all went wrong. He was a college dropout stuck in a crappy one-bedroom flat, working a dead-end job. His parents had all but disowned him—and after tonight, even that might be official.

 

His hoodie clung to his chest uncomfortably; the fabric soaked through. He didn’t really care though. He wasn’t in any real hurry, not like there was anything important to rush home to.

 

A few hours of video games, reruns of Star Sentinels , and another crappy microwavable meal for one. That was the highlight of most nights, it would be funny if it weren’t so utterly pathetic. 

 

Shivering, he rubbed his arms sluggishly as the rain turned torrential, hammering down with almost biblical force. He ducked into a bus stop and slumped onto one of the seats with a wet thud. 

 

 The light overhead flickered, casting broken shadows across the graffiti-smeared walls.

 

He gave a heavy sigh as he listened to the rain hammer the ground and shelter roof. When things become so complicated? 

 

With a weary groan he buried his head into his hands.

 

“Fuck!”

--------

Of all the memories it could have shown, why did it have to be that one? What was this void trying to achieve with this unpleasant trip down memory lane? Was this some kind of twisted version of a Christmas carol? Was the goal to get him to reflect and acknowledge the many mistakes he had made. 

 

He was more than aware of how much he had fucked up in life. From his refusal to improve himself to his laziness. He knew what his failings were. 

 

A gnawing feeling of guilt slowly wormed its way into his chest. He had forgotten just how much of a prick he had been to his parents that night. Maybe if he had just listened to his dad, his life wouldn’t be such a mess. 

 

A flash and Alex found himself in the next memory.

 

--------

 

“See you tomorrow, Jodie,” Alex yelled with a small wave. A petite woman in her mid-twenties’ with a permanent scowl on her face, barely looking up. She gave a disinterested grunt in response before returning to her magazine flicking through the pages as Alex glowered at her. 

 

Yeah, fuck you too... you lazy cow. He mentally sneered letting the door slam shut behind him as he trudged down the road. He lazily thumbed through his phone’s apps, checking his bank balance to see if his wages had cleared yet. 

 

He gave a grimace as he saw the pitiful amount. It covered the bills but only just. Alex was convinced it was illegal to pay so little. But unless Lawyers took coupons or IOU’s he doubted he had any way to fight it. He was more likely to get fired if he kicked up a fuss. With his current state one missed paycheck and he would find himself on the streets. 

 

He lashed out at a crumpled soda can that sat near the curb. Sending it flying as if it had personally put him in this situation. The metallic clangs echoing down the street as it tumbled into the darkness.

 

This is such bullshit I am busting my ass and that lazy cow is on her phone and earning double what I make. He rubbed his face with both hands, trying to smother the rising dread in his chest. Rent was due next week. His fridge was nearly empty, save for a few cartons of old take out. And the electricity bill—he didn’t even want to think about it. He could skip a few meals, sure. He’d done it before. But there wasn’t much else left to cut.

 

He clenched his jaw and kept walking. Maybe things would’ve been different if he hadn’t burned every bridge he had. His foot scuffed along the pavement, the silence stretching uncomfortably around him. Streetlights buzzed faintly overhead, casting long, flickering shadows. He stared at the cracked concrete beneath his feet, too caught up in his thoughts to notice anything around him.

“Oy.”

 A rough voice cut through the quiet street. Alex nearly jumped out of his skin, his heart pounding in his chest as he spun on his heels. Two figures were sauntering toward him, their features hazy in the low light. One was broad-shouldered, swaggering like he owned the pavement, a cocky grin stretched across his face. The other trailed just behind, hands buried in his pockets, eyes half-lidded like he could barely be bothered to show up.

Alex felt a tight knot twist in his stomach. His shoulders tensed as his mind raced—was this a mugging? 

 

“ Sup, man? ” the first one called out, raising a hand in greeting as his friend snickered behind him. Alex’s fists clenched in his pocket as he watched the two with suspicion, he doubted they were approaching him for directions. 

 

He slowed his pace, eyes narrowing as he tried to keep his voice neutral. “Do I know you?”

The two men paused under the streetlight. The bigger one flashed a grin as he gave Alex a once-over. Alex grimaced, taking in the walking stereotypes in front of him. Both had their hair dyed a gaudy blond—one sporting a mohawk, the other rocking a pompadour like a knockoff Elvis. Their faces were covered with piercings, from iron bars threaded through their eyebrows to rings jutting from their noses and lips. They looked like the kind of guys who thought money could buy class. They were draped in gold chains, tacky designer watches, and half-unbuttoned shirts that looked like they belonged at a trashy over-priced night club.

The larger of the two gave a cocky smile. “Name’s Rico,” he introduced himself before jerking a thumb at the man standing behind him. “That miserable sack of shit is Naoya.” The man in question flipping him the bird as he went back to looking at his phone.

 

Alex’s gaze flicked between them. Trying to figure out what their angle was. People like them didn’t just approach random people at night for a chat. “Nice to meet you.” Alex started not wanting to provoke these two. “What do you want?”

 

“Just a quick word,” Rico said, eyes dropping to Alex’s-soaked hoodie. “You look like a guy who could use some cash.”

 

Alex’s shoulders tensed, had he misinterpreted the situation. Were they trying to get him to invest in a pyramid scheme? Cautiously he looked the pair over again, internally debating if he should just walk away. At the very least, he could hear them out, then say he wasn’t interested. Less likely to upset them that way. 

 “I’m not one to turn down extra cash. But are you casing everyone who walks past, or just me?”

Rico chuckled. “Nah, just you, man. We’re looking for someone with specific... qualities.” He pauses chuckling lightly before continuing. “Someone with a Strong back, keeps quiet and is willing to earn some easy cash. You seemed like the type.” 

“And what exactly would I be doing?” Alex asked, already regretting the question.

Naoya spoke for the first time—quiet and flat. “Breaking and entering.”

 

Alex snorted. “You two always pitch burglary to strangers on the street?”

 

“Only the ones who stop walking,” Rico said with a smirk. “So, what do you say new friend?”

 

Alex didn’t reply right away. His shoes squelched as he shifted his weight, eyes darting between them. This wasn’t what he’d expected. A mugging maybe. Or a sob story ending in a request for cash to ‘catch a bus.’ But burglary?

 

He should say no. Walk away... But why should he? He worked minimum wage under a boss who’d promoted his lazy coworker twice. His parents thought he was a waste of space. So why not make some easy cash?

 

After a moment, he took the offered hand. “Sure, why not? Name’s Alex.”

 

“Alex, eh? You aint from round here, are you?”

 

“I moved here three years ago. I’m from Scotland originally.”

 

Rico’s eyes lit up as he cracked a huge smile, “Scotland? With leprechauns and shit?”

 

That’s Ireland, you thick cunt. Alex bit his tongue. It wasn’t worth getting stabbed over a geography lesson. 

 

“Sure... that,” he mumbled as Rico and Naoya laughed. He could already tell he wasn’t going to like these two. But he needed money, so he focused on that and tried to ignore the uneasiness forming in his stomach. 

 

 “So, you got an idea of who you want to rob or are we winging it?”

 

Rico gave a toothy grin, nodding as Naoya filled him in. “Two targets both belong to people with more money than sense. Rich guy’s house first then a mother with two daughters for the second. Easy targets. No security, In and out, no fuss.”

 

Alex took a second to digest the information. He didn’t like the idea of targeting pensioners and women, but he really needed money. He was sick of working himself to the bone to scrape by. 

 

Rico, noticing his apprehensive look, took a step forward, his eyes hardening as he placed a rough hand on Alex’s shoulder in a mock supportive gesture. “So, you in?”

 

---

With a soft thump, Alex landed in the back garden. Rico and Naoya touched down beside him in near silence, crouching low behind a row of manicured hedges. With a quiet nod, they slipped their masks on, thin black fabric covering their mouths and noses. He tugged his hood low over his brow, hiding his features as he mentally prepared.

 

The garden was pristine, filled with neatly trimmed hedges, a stone path winding through patches of raked gravel, and a pond glinting faintly under the moonlight. Somewhere near the porch, a wind chime clinked softly.

 

“You ready?” Rico whispered.

 

“...Yeah,” Alex muttered, rising slightly, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest and the tremor in his legs. Still crouched low, the three moved off. Rico and Naoya moved with precision like they had done this a hundred times before. Alex tried to mimic them, but was far less graceful, stumbling along like a clumsy shadow. 

 

Getting inside had been a breeze. The patio door was unlocked and slid open with a soft metallic scrape. The lights on their phones flicked on as they cautiously searched the room. Rico slunk into the hallway, checking for any signs of activity, while Naoya slunk into the kitchen. With the coast clear, they split up and began pocketing anything of value. They grabbed anything that looked valuable. Cash, watches, and pricey-looking jewellery were stuffed into their bags.

 

At first, everything had gone smoothly. The money they’d grabbed would easily cover Alex’s rent for five months, even after splitting it. Once they pawned off the rest, maybe even a year.

 

But despite the promise of that much cash, he paused. His eyes flicked to a silver photo frame on the dresser, an older man with his arms wrapped around a woman. The man had his tongue sticking out, nearly touching her cheek, while she smiled at the camera, half-heartedly pushing him away. 

Guilt twisted in his stomach as his hand hovered over the drawer. 

 

It wasn’t like anyone was getting hurt. 

 

The guy was probably insured.

 

 Hell, he was rich. A few watches and some jewellery wouldn’t even make a dent.

 

He wanted to believe it. But even to him, the excuses sounded hollow, but it was all he had. It was either this or risk living on the street when his rent inevitably went up again. He wasn’t a bad person. He didn’t want to hurt anyone or break the law—he just needed a little breathing room. The prospect of not worrying about money overrode any lingering thoughts of stopping as he yanked open a drawer and stuffed a sleek black tablet into his bag.

 

There was a sharp click behind him and a second later the light above sprung to life. Alex gave a gasp as he shielded his eyes, squinting in the bright light. He felt like he had been hit with a flashbang as his eyes struggled to adjust.

 

He heard yelling as his eyes focused. Standing at the entrance to the living room was the old man, his face twisted into a snarl, like an enraged tiger.

 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE,” he roared, approaching them with his stick raised. “GET OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE YOU NO GOOD THUGS.”

 

Alex stood frozen at the sight of him, not out of fear but a looming shame. The old man looked like a strong breeze could have knocked him over. He couldn’t have been more than five and a half feet tall. Dressed in crisp silk pyjamas and gripping a polished walking stick, standing his ground with more stubbornness than strength.

 

He wanted to bolt then and there, take what they had and get the fuck out of there.

Rico on the other hand hadn’t seemed fazed by the man’s yelling. If anything, he looked amused by the situation. The man took a menacing step forward pointing his stick at the three of them.

 

“Why don’t you go back to sleep, old man—before you get hurt,” Rico taunted, taking a step forward.

 

The pensioner jabbed his stick at the three of them. “You stay back or else,” he barked, defiant despite the odds. Rico snorted, grabbing the cane and yanking it free with a single sharp pull. Next, he took a step forward and with a vicious shove sent the man flying to the ground. 

 

The man gave a startled yell as he collapsed landing awkwardly with a sickening crack that made Alex flinch. Rico on the other hand stood laughing like he was watching a comedy instead of someone writhing on the floor. Alex looked on in horror, his stomach churning at the unnatural bend in the old man’s leg.

 

This wasn’t what he signed up for. 

 

No one was meant to get hurt. 

 

Rico’s laughter petered out gradually, twisting into something more insidious. He advanced, gripping the stick like a weapon, his eyes cold with something malevolent.

 

“Still feeling brave, old man?” he asked mockingly, raising the stick slowly, like an executioner about to swing. A weak, pained groan was the only response from the trembling man on the ground. Alex took a tentative step forward, his voice rising slightly.

“Cut it out Rico... we need to leave!”

 

The tanned man didn’t even acknowledge him. Alex’s hands curled into fists, fear and doubt creeping in as he debated on what he should do. If he didn’t act now, Rico might do something stupid. 

 

 But as he watched the two, from Rico’s sadistic glee to Naoya’s cold indifference. A horrifying realization hit him, like a punch to the gut.

 

These two... they’d done this before.

 

They hadn’t just robbed people—they’d hurt them.

 

Alex grabbed Rico by the shoulder, pulling him back, trying to defuse this situation before he went any further. But in the blink of an eye Rico turned on him, snarling like a savage beast as he slammed his fist into Alex’s face. 

 

“What the fuck?!” Alex yelled, one hand snapping up to his throbbing jaw. “You fucking psychopath what the hell is your problem.”

 

Rico’s hand dove into his pocket, yanking a switchblade out as it sprang open with a sharp click. The knife was cold against his throat, the metal digging in with just enough pressure to make the threat crystal clear.

 

Alex didn’t dare move, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. Rico’s face hovered inches from his own, twisted in a sneer.

 

“Hey, take it easy, man. Let's not do anything rash,” 

 

“Shut the fuck up you piece of shit,” Rico snarled, yanking Alex up by his hair. “If you ever touch me again, I'll slit your throat... you hear me, fucker!” he snapped, throwing him to the ground, following up with a vicious kick to his stomach.

 

Alex wheezed, curling into a ball, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps. With a groan, he gave Rico a fearful nod, eyes fixed on the floor. For good measure, Rico struck him again. Landing a solid kick to his ribs before stepping over him like he was trash.

 

Lying there, the full weight of it crashed down on him. He’d been an idiot to think this would be simple and easy. These two were psychopaths. They’d kill him without a second thought. 

 

“Get up,” Rico spat. “We still have another place to hit.”

 

Alex gave a pitiful whimper in response, slowly and painfully stumbling to his feet as he gasped, ribs screaming with every breath. 

 

Rico scoffed and turned away, heading for the door with Naoya trailing behind, a smirk that told Alex he’d get no sympathy. He staggered after them, swaying slightly with each uneven step. Just before crossing the threshold, he hesitated. The old man was still huddled in the corner, shaking.

 

In a split-second decision, Alex grabbed the house phone and slid it to him.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, the words barely audible. With one last guilty look, he slipped out, the door creaking shut behind him.

 

This had been a massive mistake.

 

-------

 

“...lex...”

 

He shifted slightly, brow scrunching as a faint voice pierced the quiet. The first thing he registered was a softness; unlike anything he had felt before. His head sank into the pillow beneath him, the softness almost surreal like lying on a cloud. For a moment, he simply lay there, suspended in it, unsure if he was awake or dreaming.

 

“Alex...”

 

The voice—soft and feminine—called out again, clearer this time. Alex let out a tired groan. With a huff, his eyes cracked open, only to slam shut a second later as blinding light flooded his vision. A pained hiss slipped from his dry lips, followed by a string of mumbled swear words. Rubbing at his eyes, he gave himself a second to adjust.

 

Where am I now? He wondered. His fingers twitched against the sheets, brushing the soft fabric. This wasn’t a memory, and it sure as hell didn’t feel like the void. 

 

“Come now husband, no time for laziness.” A voice purred from beside him. 

 

“Meliora?” Alex mutters, sleepily rubbing his eyes. His thoughts are slow to form as he twists turns to face her. The moment his eyes lock onto hers, he freezes. His mouth hangs open as he admires her radiant beauty. Her very presence glows like a beacon, troubling thoughts and distress washing away like sand beneath a tide. No matter how often he looks at her she always seems to leave him breathless. 

 

“Good morning.” She laughs, lying next to him. “I was afraid I’d have to fetch a bucket of water to wake you,” she jokes. With a small hum she reaches out and strokes his cheek tenderly, her hands as soft as silk.

 

“Where are we?” he asked, letting out another yawn followed by a slow stretch. 

 

“Technically, this is my bedroom,” she says with a small smirk. “But not the real one. We’re dreaming—well, you’re dreaming. I just decided to join you.”

 

“Your bedroom , huh?” Alex mutters, glancing around at the vast space with ornate decoration and fancy paintings. “Bit more impressive than my apartment.” He chuckles; his eyes wandered around the room admiring it. The whole thing looked like something out of a fantasy story. A room fit for a queen or legendary wizard. A beautiful ornate chandelier floats above their head surrounded by dazzling gems that twinkle like stars in the soft light. 

 

Floating orbs hovered gently above, casting warm light. Books slid quietly along polished shelves, reshelving themselves with a soft thunk . Some occasionally opened as quills scribbled notes inside of them. 

 

Paintings lined the walls displaying beautiful women dressed in clothes that left little to the imagination. Bordering on obscene and yet they wore it with an elegance few could hope to match. One looked just like Meliora. Alex couldn’t be sure, but he swore he saw the portrait crack a brief smirk. Mirroring the one Meliora wore as she watched him gawk at the room.

 

“It’s a bit pompous; I would fire your decorator. That chandelier clashes with the floating orbs. Really throws off the feng shui.” 

 

She gives a playful gasp. “A pretty girl invites you into her bedroom and you insult her decor. Truly you are a brute and a charlatan.” 

 

“And here was me thinking you just wanted to jump to third base.” He retorts, waggling his eyebrows at her. 

 

Meliora gave an unladylike snort before cuffing him, like she was disciplining a naughty puppy. “Don’t be an ass.” 

 

In response Alex maturely sticks his tongue out at her. “But being an ass comes so naturally to me.”

 

“Don’t I know that.” She laments, rolling her eyes at his antics. 

 

“Aww you know you love me.” Alex teases.

 

Meliora raises an eyebrow at his antics, a mischievous look spreading across her face. In a flash, she grabs him by the front of his hoodie and yanks him toward her, pressing her lips to his in one bold motion. Alex’s eyes go wide, a surprised sound catching in his throat. Soon though it morphs into a needy groan as he melts into the kiss. One hand drifts to her waist while the other finds the back of her head, fingers weaving through her hair. 

 

 Brief but intense the two break apart, both of them collapsing back onto the bed.

 

Holy shit,” he exclaims, lying there with a stupid grin plastered on his face. The two of them stay like that for a moment, chests rising and falling in sync. The only sound is their breathing, slow, shaky but content. 

 

“Meliora.” 

 

“Hmmm?”

 

Alex turned slightly to face her, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. “Before I woke up here, I had... flashbacks. They seemed random but I wanted to ask if had any idea about why I saw them?” 

 

Meliora hums, eyes narrowing in thought. Her hand idly rubs her chin, genuinely considering the question. After a few seconds, she nods slowly.

 

“Honestly? Incubization and monsterization affect men and women differently. The process adapts to whatever helps a person heal and find happiness. Sometimes that means revisiting moments they’ve buried like mistakes, regrets, and unresolved guilt. Other times, it brings up lost opportunities... people they let go of, friendships that drifted apart. It doesn’t just drag you through the worst parts... It shows what was and is important to you. Even if you didn’t realize it at the time.” 

 

"Figures. The one warm memory I have is with a girl I haven’t seen in 13 years. " Alex mutters dryly, forcing out a bitter laugh.

 

Meliora reaches out and gently clasps his head between her hands, her thumbs lightly rubbing his cheeks. “That first memory was sweet, but that’s not what made it important. You regret not holding onto that connection when you could have.”

 

Alex doesn’t respond. He just lies there, her hands warm against his face, eyes distant as her words settle in.

 

Regret. 

 

Yeah… that about right. 

 

God knows he had plenty of it.

 

The silence stretched out between them. Alex was torn on what he should do. Those memories had shown him a side of himself he hated. A weak, bitter, and selfish man. And more than anything, he wanted to make it right. To find Mimi, even if she didn’t remember him. To call his parents and beg for forgiveness. To return what he stole, apologize to that old man, and pray the damage wasn’t permanent.

 

But all of that would mean facing who he really was. Owning it and trying to change.


The prospect of it all terrified him. Because what if he did all that. Grew as a person and finally took some responsibility—and still wasn’t good enough?

What if Meliora looked at the real him and realized he wasn’t worth the effort?

That he didn’t deserve her.

That he never had.

 

His thoughts stall as a strange feeling creeps in as something shifts. The bed beneath him no longer feels solid, its warmth and weight starting to slip away. The room starts to fade at the edges, colours dimming and blurring.

 

Meliora’s smile falters. “You’re waking up,” she murmurs, voice soft and tinged with sadness. Her hands linger, like she’s not quite ready to let him go.

 

“I don’t want to leave.” Alex replies bitterly, the moment stretching out as warmth fades from his limbs, replaced by the weight of returning consciousness. 

 

Meliora leans in close, brushing her forehead lightly against his. “You are a good man, Alex. Don’t doubt yourself.” She whispers, her lips gently brushing his as she along with the room vanishes. 

---

With a jolt, Alex’s eyes snap open. The familiar cracked ceiling stares back at him, the familiar hardness of the floor making him wince. Had he fallen off the bed again?

 

He groans, rubbing his face in frustration. The warmth of her touch still lingers faintly on his skin, leaving behind a tingling echo. Despite himself, he allows a small, wistful smile. She made him want to be better than he was. She honestly believed in him, that he was a good person. He wanted to prove her right. He wanted to live up to her expectations to prove to her and himself that he was deserving of her affections.

 

It felt weird he had spoken with her for less than an hour combined yet knew every detail about her and her life. He knew she could speak four languages. That she loved painting but wasn’t particularly good at it. She had issues with her older sister, Druella, not that she’d admit it out loud. Her favourite food was melty fruit with clotted cream. Most importantly he knew that she loved him unconditionally and fully. And honestly... that scared him worse than anything he had faced so far. 

 

 He knew a thousand things about her—like they’d grown up together. That was it, he realized. She didn’t feel like some mysterious demon or a powerful sorcerer. She felt like someone who had always been there. 

 

A friend... no... more than that. She felt like a childhood sweetheart. Like they had known each other since they were children destined to be together like in sappy romance novels. 

 

He hadn’t believed her when she had first mentioned this destined lovers thing. That wasn’t how normal relationships worked. Granted there was nothing normal about this situation he was in. Despite his mistrust at first and believe that it was some malicious ploy. Here he was buzzing with happiness from a simple kiss.

He was quickly falling for a woman he had spoken with twice. Either the connection they shared was real or he was desperate.

 

Either way, he couldn’t just lie around thinking about it all day. He needed to get up.

 

kicking off the blanket, Alex rose to his feet with an exaggerated stretch. His gaze drifts lazily over to the clock debating if he had enough time to do some more digging before Myusca came to drain him. Maybe he would hide in the basement or the library. Use the time to do some more research. Or maybe he would throw himself to the manticore just to spite her. The look of anger on her face would almost be worth the pain from being eaten alive... almost.

 

The clock read 9:15 causing him to pause. Double checking that he had read it right. 

 

It can’t be that late; the sun is still out. Tilting his head he reached into his jeans to grab his phone just to double check the time. 

 

Frowning, he patted down each pocket, growing more confused. He could have sworn he had his phone in his jean pockets. Had he dropped it, or had it maybe fallen out whilst he was asleep?

 

He checked the mattress, tossing the pillows aside and even flicking it to check if it had fallen down the crack. Next, he riffled though his blanket, lifting and shaking before tossing it onto the bed. Finally, he got down on his hands and knees, checking under the bed for any sign of it as he gave a growl of frustration.

 

Where the hell was his phone?

 

His hands patted his jeans one more time just to make sure he hadn’t missed it before moving up and patting his hoodie. A sense of ice-cold dread set in as he felt nothing.

 

With growing alarm, he tore into his hoodie hoping he was wrong as he fingers grasped around nothing.

 

His hoodie pockets were empty.

 

Panic set in as he checked his waist for the gun. His hands came up with nothing. 

 

What the fuck was going on. Where was all his stuff? 

 

Had Myusca taken it or maybe one of the others? 

 

No, that was impossible. Myusca would be asleep, and Nemea and Vinum never came into his room. But the fact remained, everything he had picked up... was gone. 

 

Something cold twisted in his gut. A suspicion he didn’t want to be true. His eyes locked onto his bag as he hurried over pulling it apart as he tipped the contents out onto the floor. With a sharp clatter his phone landed on the floor along with a few pencils and a notebook.

He stared at it for a second. Then, slowly, he reached out and pressed the power button.

The screen lit up.

9:10 am.

 

The day had reset. 

Notes:

I hope you enjoyed chapter 5. I know many of you are thinking I thought that asshole was meant to be seducing the three bitches not playing dream dating sim with his OP girlfriend. I didn't intend to bring her back so quickly but I felt the small section at the end fit. I promise this won't be a regular thing thing. Thank you for your support and please leave any feedback critism or comments you want. The more the better. And if the story tickles your pickle then a kudos would be fantastic.

Starting next chapter. Myusca Nemea and Vinum are going to start getting far more attention and start the process of breaking down their walls and seeing what hides underneath.