The sun wakes me, and my body can move again. I’m still in the hotel room, same spot, slightly more torn boxer briefs. The room is covered in blood, scales and what looks to be pieces of furniture. The TV is on and Destiny is watching reruns of The Wayans Brothers as if nothing is strange. Around the room are severed heads of what I assume to be more Succubus and an Incubus too, but only a single body. Jenny’s body, head attached and a fist sized hole through where her heart should be. I’d probably vomit if I hadn’t lived through last night.
“Put your clothes on,” Destiny flings a grocery bag at me with my actual clothes.
“Where were you,” I ask her without opening the bag.
“When?”
“Last night, you went silent and I got raped.”
“Oh, you didn’t get raped, but this would be a sexual assault for sure.”
“Great I’ll only get half an episode of SVU, then they’ll find out the housekeeper is a serial killer. Where were you?”
“Killing the gang. See one can only steal so much of your soul, that’s why the rest wait in hiding. Then they take turns until you’re drained. I got the others first. I figured you could handle yourself. If you couldn’t, I wouldn’t want to hang around you. You barely passed, just barely,” she shrugs and goes back to watching TV.
I sit on the edge of the bed and take in my surroundings again. I try to reconcile what just happened, and my brain just isn’t computing. If this was some computer program or video game, I’d figure it out. This, this doesn’t compute with me, yet here I am. I accept it and make my way to the bathroom to get changed. I need to go home, recover and think about what just happened.
“Don’t try to be all modest now,” Destiny says as I shut the door.
“What did you see,” I ask her.
“Only a teeny tiny little bit,” she laughs.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“What’s that mean?”
“It means I only saw, an itsy-bitsy bit,” she keeps laughing.
I slam the door to get dressed and realize these aren’t my clothes at all. She’s playing another joke on me. I’m thinking I don’t like Destiny as much as I thought I did. I can deal with her not laughing at my jokes. But she left me to fight off what I can only describe as a demon rapist. Then she makes a small dick joke and brings me biker shorts, a hoody and flip flops to wear. There’re limits to how much a person can take and she seems to just keep trying to get me to my limits, hoping I break. But I’m not going to give her that satisfaction. She’s not going to get rid of me like that, at least not until we’ve had a date. If she’s still like this afterwards, I’m done. I’ll find someone else to fall in love with because love should never be like this, even if I don’t know a lot about love.
“You look great,” Destiny gets her final laugh in.
“Thank you. I’ll pick you up on Friday night,” I say heading for the door.
“Pick me up for what? We’re done here.”
“No, you still owe me a date.”
“I don’t owe you anything,” Destiny stands up to intimidate me. It almost works, but I looked death in the eyes last night.
“Yeah, you do. You told me if I acted as bait, you’d go on a date with me. I think you owe me that much after making me a sexual assault victim because you wanted to hide half the plan and dress me like some weirdo with a humiliation fetish,” I realize I’m yelling and stop talking.
“Listen nerd boy, I don’t appreciate you yelling at me or placing the blame on me because you’re weak.”
“I’m a human, you’re not. You left me to fight a succubus that drugged me, because you told me to take the drugs. The least you can do is go on the date you promised.”
“Fine, see you Friday.”
“And another thing, where are my clothes and shoes?”
“I said I’ll go on the date with you.”
“For real?”
“Yeah.”
“No strings attached,” I ask with concern.
“None.”
“No practical jokes? Just a date.”
“Just a date,” she finally smiles.
“Great.”
“Don’t expect it to end in sex. I don’t put out on the first date.”
“I would never expect you to.”
“Good. Even if I did, there wasn’t much you could do with that anyway,” she bursts into laughter again.
“It gets bigger,” is the only thing I can say through the embarrassment.
“Not from what I saw,” she keeps going.
“Nobody told you to take a peek, pervert.”
“I didn’t, just didn’t see any print. Nothing, no hotdog, no tater tots. Just flat. Ken doll.”
“That’s not true,” I’m getting angry now.
“Hey, you’ve got what you got. Can’t change that.”
“It gets bigger, way bigger. You’ll see.”
“Sure, it does, let’s get out of here Ken Doll, I’ll make you breakfast.”
“I hate you so much right now.”
“No, you love to hate me. There’s a difference.”
Do I really like this woman?