Of all the disturbing things Ryka frequently said, there were three syllables that truly upset Kyle. One little phrase that forced him to confront the reality of his situation.

I’m hungry.

Somehow, the fear and guilt those words triggered in Kyle wasn’t enough to satiate his parasite. He knew Ryka wanted more, but he didn’t want to think about how he was supposed to help meet this need. Humans certainly exuded plenty of negative emotions for the demon to snack on, but he needed a meal. The hate, fear and regret wafting around were hardly noticeable when compared to the strength of those same feelings in Hell, where billions were tortured for their sins until they felt nothing but despair.

Not knowing what else to do, Kyle played dumb. “How does Chinese sound?” he asked, nervous laughter behind his question. Ryka didn’t answer, which was even more distressing.

Shaking, he called to order take-out, then waited fretting in his kitchen for ten minutes, before heading out. He was sure he seemed uncomfortable picking up the food – the cashier looked concerned – but no one asked if anything was wrong, and Kyle paid and left without any more interaction than necessary.

Back in the car, he set the greasy brown bag on the passenger seat and pulled out into traffic. For a Saturday night, there was surprisingly little traffic. Even less on the back roads Kyle decided to take home, in an effort to put off Ryka’s upcoming complaints about not being properly fed. Because he knew as soon as he got home and tucked into his own meal, Ryka would start asking when he could expect his.

He was so busy imagining their argument that he barely reacted in time when someone backed out in front of him, speeding out of a long driveway in reverse. Gasping, Kyle stomped on the brake, but for all his effort, his sedan didn’t stop in time. He bumped into the other car, which also screeched to a halt.

For a few moments, all he could do was stare in shock at the other vehicle. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he was in disbelief that Ryka hadn’t warned him, or done anything to prevent him from actually hitting the other vehicle. He wanted to question his parasite, but he could see the other driver already walking toward him. There would be time later, he thought, digging a pen and a scrap of paper out of the glove box. He exited the car, ready to assess the damage, exchange insurance information and get on his way.

“Sorry, I -” Kyle started, honestly apologetic. But he was cut off.

“Asshole! Weren’t you paying attention? Fuck!”

Mouth agape, Kyle stared at the other driver, a young man in his early twenties. They may have looked close in age, but were obviously quite distant in terms of maturity. “You backed out without looking and -”

“Bullshit. You came out of nowhere. How the hell fast were you going?” The man went on and on, but Kyle couldn’t hear a word he was saying.

Was he just wondering how fast he’s going to make it to Hell? Because the answer is ‘very quickly.’

“No, wait.”

The headlights on Kyle’s car flickered off. Poor timing, as it gave the other driver just the excuse he was looking for. “How could I have seen you coming?” Sure that he was going to be found faultless, the man continued to gloat, at least until his headlights - and all the surrounding street lights - went out, and he was left standing in complete darkness. “What the fuck?”

Thick clouds blotted out the moon, and in the quiet darkness, the sound of something ripping - and the unearthly growl that followed - were unnaturally loud. The young man backed slowly toward his vehicle, instinctively afraid.

“I bet you really didn’t see this coming, either,” a gravelly voice told him, much too close for his comfort.

“Wh-who’s there?”

“The name’s Ryka. Don’t forget – I want to hear you scream it once we get started.”

Hot breath on his neck raised goosebumps, and he took a step away from what he thought was the source. “St-started?”

“With your penance, sinner. Consider me judge and jury. And executioner.”

At those last words, the man staggered back, away from the unseen thing in the dark that stalked him in silence. “Exe-what?” He was fumbling for the door frame, hoping to duck into the car and make a quick getaway.

“You heard me. You’re not leaving here alive.” Swallowing back a scream, the man glanced up into a gaze that burned like fire. “Don’t look too long. You’ll ruin the surprise.”

By this point, Ryka was sure Kyle was begging him not to go through with this. Terrifying his prey was one thing. Killing it was another entirely. But he had muted their connection; they couldn’t hear each other. And if he kept the street lights off, there wouldn’t be much for Kyle to see, either. Excited as he was, though, his eyes threw a considerable amount of light, and in their red glow, he hungrily admired the look of shock and horror on his soon-to-be-victim’s face.

“Poor Master. His dinner’s getting cold. But mine’s just getting warmed up.” Chuckling, Ryka reached out and grabbed the young man by the throat. The door to his car had been left open, and Ryka shoved him backward into the driver seat. Wings folded tightly against his back, Ryka leaned over his prey, the seat protesting loudly under their weight. “Now, tell me your sins.”

Ryka could, of course, see every wrong the man had done. And there were a lot. But confessions made people uncomfortable, and that made his meal even more delectable. “Tell me,” he ordered again. He was determined to coax it out of the man without resorting to overriding his free will. Though that would certainly add another delicious layer of anxiety.

The man opened his mouth, but thought better of just giving in. Not understanding what he was up against, he reached into his back seat and fumbled for something with which to fend off his attacker.

Scoffing, Ryka snatched away the snow brush his victim attempted to subdue him with. “Cute,” he remarked, snapping the handle in half in one hand. One piece he dropped on the floor, the other he stabbed through the man’s open palm. The resulting scream made Ryka tremble. “You sure know how to make a guy feel good. Keep going.”

All he got in response, however, was quiet whimpering. The man squeezed his fist closed, blood oozing out from between his fingers. Panic was starting to take hold. When the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, its light showed even more clearly the young man’s look of terror.

“No? Should I start, then? Your apparently uncontrollable lust for your twelve-year-old cousin has ensured you an eternity of suffering. At least hers will end tonight.” This, he let Kyle hear. Maybe if he understood how vile this person really was, he wouldn’t feel as guilty about watching him die.

The man’s eyes went wide. He was scared, but obviously still understood what Ryka was saying to him. And hearing his fate inspired another burst of bravery. Swinging both fists wildly and kicking as hard as he could, he tried to fight his way out from under Ryka.

“You’re very amusing,” the demon told him, not inconvenienced in the slightest by his captive’s attempt at escape. One angry snarl was all it took to freeze the man in place. “And a little annoying.” His hunger was making him impatient. He pressed a finger against the man’s jugular, and the tip of his claw pricked skin. In the dark, the bead of blood that formed there looked black. It stayed until the man began shivering, then rolled down the side of his neck. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because you deserve it. Now tell me why.”

There was a pause, and Ryka was sure he was going to kill this person without ever hearing his sins. Sighing, he rested the fingers of both hands around the man’s neck. More tiny, dark pearls appeared. He was fully prepared to dig his claws in, slitting his throat.

But the man took a deep breath, and with words choked by tears, told him, “My friend’s sister, too. She’s eleven.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Keep going.”

“I took money from my parents. And from the register at work. To buy porn … with ki-ki-” It was his own sin, one he had felt no compulsion to ignore, but it suddenly shamed him to admit to it.

“Your soul is ugly; I wish you could see it.” He paused, raking his claws lightly down the man’s chest. Dark streaks appeared alongside the rips in the thin jacket he was wearing. “I suppose we could try.”

“No, please ….”

“Then keep going. I know there’s more.”

For the next five minutes, the man spouted off every wrong he had ever done. By the end, he was sobbing so loudly his words were unintelligible. But they were only necessary to aid in his suffering. Something this mortal very clearly deserved. “What should I do with you?”

“This is enough,” the man whined. Tears thinned out the blood on his neck, and it was starting to pool under his head, giving him a black halo. Perfectly matching his wretched soul, Ryka mused.

“Hardly. So, should I do to you what you did to those poor girls? Give you even a small taste of the pain you caused them?” Under him, the man was shaking. He put his hands up to cover his face, and Ryka grabbed both his wrists in one hand, lifting them away. Murderous glee in his eyes, Ryka continued, “I really think you need to understand how it feels to be violated.”

Luckily, the perfect implement to accomplish this was still at hand - the same piece of ice scraper he’d used to put a hole through this scum’s hand.

Breath coming now in panicked gasps, the man clamped down on his own tongue to stop himself from screaming. Blood filled his mouth, but he had more pressing concerns. He could see the monster moving the broken scraper down between his legs, and he tried desperately to fight his way free again.

But it wasn’t enough. Teeth bared in a predatory grin, Ryka kneed the man’s thighs apart. “Spread ‘em.”

The man shrieked as the sharp plastic plunged into him, tearing easily through denim and the sensitive mucous membranes underneath.

By the smell, and the mess that quickly followed, Ryka knew he had pierced the man’s intestines. Only an inch or two of the nearly foot-long handle was still visible. “This is what eternity’s going to feel like.” The man’s screaming quieted to a whimper, and his eyelids fluttered as he began to lose consciousness. His eyes rolled back in his head, but Ryka could still hear his heart beating, fast and off-tempo.

“Stay with me a little longer.” With that, he pushed the handle the rest of the way in, and the man awoke, gasping and sobbing. Blood was running out from the corners of his lips, pumping out the wounds on his neck. The mud-colored flow from his mutilated rectum was soaking the seat below them.

But Ryka wanted more. “Don’t die yet.” Ryka dragged his claws across the man’s face, and he looked up with wild, pain-filled eyes. “Keep watching.” He slashed open his victim’s coat and shirt, intent on doing the same to his belly. But before he could show the man his own innards, he breathed his last, heart seizing in fear as he bled out.

With a pathetic wail, his soul escaped. Ryka grabbed it. He had to deal with this before handling the clean-up.

Backing out of the car, soul firmly in his grasp, Ryka stopped in the middle of the street. Street lights flashed back on overhead, and his shadow stretched out before him, long in the glare of headlights. It opened its mouth, and a fiery chasm opened in the road. Kyle stared with Ryka down into the pits of Hell, and the tortured screams of the damned rose to meet them.

“Have fun, fucker.” The soul slipped out from between his fingers and descended to its final resting place. The portal closed its mouth and retreated, satisfied. Feeling the same way, Ryka turned back toward the car, and the body within. “Convenient,” he remarked, glancing across the street. Only one side of the road had houses; the other was a steep, wooded hill that ran down to a river.

He carelessly shoved the man’s legs into the car, put it in Reverse, set the remains of his victim and the car’s fabric ablaze, then slammed the door shut and pushed the car over the edge. It made it most of the way to the water, crashing through the undergrowth before finally becoming lodged on a bigger tree.

“Good enough.”

With the mess out of the way, Ryka finally restored his connection with Kyle. And very quickly wished he hadn’t.

What the fuck? He just … I don’t … why? Why did you do that? That was … How could you?

Kyle’s voice was quavering, but his accusatory tone still irked Ryka. “If you don’t like it, then you should have said ‘no!’” At this last word, the streetlights exploded, leaving only the headlights of Kyle’s car to illuminate the scene. Vision red-tinged, Ryka glared at the broken glass around him.

For a moment, Kyle was too stunned to respond. Ryka almost never lost his temper with his host. But he didn’t know how not to be upset about something like this. Even though it wasn’t the first time. And it surely wouldn’t be the last. Say ‘no?’ How could I have? I didn’t know what I was agreeing to. Ryka wasn’t the only one angry.

“Maybe you should have asked,” the demon rumbled, thunderous fury behind his words.

You would have lied.

“And I would have regretted it.”

That successfully quelled Kyle’s rage. Listen, it’s just a lot for me. To see that.

“So it’s not that I killed him, it’s how?” The uncomfortable silence that followed the question was answer enough. “The blood, right?” He was still breathing hard, but Kyle thought Ryka sounded a little more calm. “But you know he deserved it. You heard what he did. Should I have let him go?”

No, came the immediate reply. The thought of that man continuing to hurt people made Kyle feel sick. Sicker than the sight of what Ryka had done to him in return. But ….

“They’re going to find us. I have to take advantage of that. I need strength to protect you, Master.”

Words that would have given Kyle chills if not for his passenger status. It wasn’t just Ryka’s sultry tone when referring to his beloved host, either. It disturbed Kyle how easily he could disregard another human’s life, how easily he’d come to understand Ryka’s point of view. Sinners needed to be punished. He didn’t want to deal with those feelings, especially not in the middle of a murder scene.

I want to go home, please.

“Yes, Master.”

But … get rid of those pants. They’re covered in shit and blood.

Without a word, Ryka stripped off the pants and burned them to ash, along with the remaining pieces of Kyle’s shirt and coat. His shoes, which were just as filthy, received the same treatment, although the soles only melted, solidifying again when they hit cold pavement. The fire in his hands also cleaned them; most of the traces of blood on his skin vanished. But he still hesitated giving control back to Kyle. Instead, he whined quietly and wrapped his tail around his right thigh.

What?

“These, too. You’ll be uncomfortable.” The only thing he was left wearing was underwear, and he glanced down quickly so Kyle would know what he was talking about.

Why? What’s wrong? It wasn’t like him to be shy, and Kyle was sure Ryka expected him to lose his temper again. Guilty for his earlier outburst, he tried a gentler tone. Go on. What is it?

“I just came more times than I’m willing to admit.”

Ry ….

“I can’t help it. He was scared, and so were you. Just thinking about it ….” He groaned and leaned against Kyle’s car. It was an effort not to touch himself. But Kyle was finally calm again, so he resisted the urge.

Calm down. Let’s get home first.

Uncomfortable, Ryka quickly agreed. Kyle thought he made out even worse, coming to on all fours in the street, wearing only wet briefs. But the intrusive memory of what he had just witnessed pushed all thoughts of that discomfort aside. Choking back vomit, he crawled into his car. He had forgotten all about the Chinese food.

The overpowering smell of pork fried rice, crab rangoons and mu-shi beef was too much. Keeping a hand clapped over his mouth, as if that would somehow keep his most recent meal down, he lowered the window. It felt like a risk, but Kyle leaned out and took a big breath of crisp night air. It helped, but only because the smoke from the rolling crematorium near the river hadn’t wafted up the hill yet. And fresh air still wasn’t as effective as a cigarette.

He drove home with the window down, and dashed into his house with the grease-soaked paper bag clutched to his chest. No one had seen him, he was sure.

The first thing he did once he was inside – after tossing his now unwanted meal in the fridge – was take a long shower. The first thing Ryka did, once summoned, was masturbate. Which wouldn’t have been unusual if he hadn’t been so quiet.

Afterward, he filled the tub and climbed in, whining under his breath all the while.

What’s wrong with you?

“You hate me so much sometimes.” That hurt to hear, but Ryka didn’t pause long enough to let Kyle muddle through an apology. “And then you hate yourself for loving me. Even on your own, you keep me pretty well fed.”

Then why -

“Because it’s not enough. You also forget what I really am, and that upsets you, too.”

Ry ….

Eyes downcast, Ryka watched the tip of his tail move through the water. “You think you had no choice, being stuck with me like this. But I think you were made just for me, and that’s why he sent me to you first. Maybe I’m the one that had no choice.”

With our luck, we’re both being fucked with.

“Probably. You’re not mad anymore?”

I never stay angry, do I?

“No. You’re a good host. You don’t mind keeping me well fed.”

I’m … trying. Trying to come to terms with what it meant, and how he felt afterward. And they do deserve it. This one had.

“Absolutely.”

Next time, I’m getting delivery.

“Oh?”

Never mind. I don’t want to have to shampoo the carpet.