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Just Greg: My Accidental Life as a Demon Lord
Chapter 16 - A Night at the Museum 🔥

Chapter 16 - A Night at the Museum 🔥

I awoke reclining under the black dome of a planetarium. The stars were dead now, the show long since over. I reached out next to me, searching for someone who wasn’t there. My head hurt as if someone had driven a nail through it. As I stood, I kicked over a half-full bottle of Coke sitting near my foot, and I cursed. Had I fallen asleep again? It was hard working two jobs. Sometimes I hung out in the planetarium when it wasn’t in use, resting my eyes, enjoying the quiet darkness.

I grabbed a mop and bucket from the custodian’s closet and cleaned up the mess, then walked out of the planetarium with my jacket slung over my shoulder and my phone buzzing in my hand with a heap of text messages.

I remembered I had a date tonight—Blake’s Lotaburger and a rom-com. It was our fourth or fifth date, and she’d proposed the activities. Perhaps she knew I could never resist green chile anything, especially not a cheeseburger.

Strangely, I couldn’t remember her name, and when I looked down at my phone, her contact was listed only as “M.” I replied that I was on my way and would see her soon.

The museum was empty, so I must have slept much longer than intended. When I looked at my watch, the hands spun backward, and the numbers on the dial were unreadable. Rather than numerals, they were in the shape of jagged runes, twisting and rearranging with every slight movement of my wrist, making it impossible to focus on them.

I shook my head and blinked my eyes, trying to dispel my headache. As I reached the museum entrance, I fished in my pocket for my car keys, only to realize they were missing. “Shit,” I muttered. Had they fallen out in the planetarium? I’d have to go back and check.

But as I turned around, I jumped—a woman stood there, a petite Latina wearing a short leather jacket, smiling at me from dimple to dimple. Strangely, I couldn’t focus on her face, as if she were a blurry, out of focus projection. But she was holding a DVD in one hand and a grease-stained paper bag in the other.

“Sorry for just showing up like this,” she said, “but I got tired of waiting.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling myself blush. “I’m really sorry. I actually, um, forgot my keys, so I need to go back—”

“It’s all right,” she said. “Let’s just stay here.”

“In the museum?” I looked around. There was usually a security guard, even after closing. But at the moment, no one could be seen. How strange. Part of me didn’t want to question it; wanted to blindly accept everything she said. After all, she was important, and this was the beginning of something that would mean a great deal to me. I didn’t know how I knew that, but as I stood there, I realized she was about the only thing I felt sure of. “I guess we could,” I said at last.

“Great.” She turned and headed towards the exhibit halls, back the way I’d come.

The lights seemed to shift and change as we walked, growing dimmer then brighter again in ways that made no sense. I looked around, trying to get my bearings, but the walk to the museum’s heart was longer than I remembered, and the floor was darker. It had turned into a strange, black marble I had never seen there before.

My date cast a long shadow, which shifted and warped as the light played its tricks. For a moment, M. looked like she’d grown taller, and horns had sprouted from her head. But soon, we emerged into a large atrium, and when she turned to face me, she looked human again. Blurry, but human.

A golden, four-pointed crown was inscribed on the marble floor at the center of the atrium. Confused, I looked around, searching for the fossils, the planetarium, the mineral wing, or the special Mars exhibit. Instead, the atrium led to four passages, each aligned with one point of the crown.

“What the fuck,” I said. “Hey, let’s go back. This isn’t…”

But she only shook her head. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes, I thought, when she told me, “That is not our destination. Come on, Greg, there’s something you need to see. I brought you here for a reason.”

She began walking towards the leftmost passage. Above it, a large rune was inscribed on the wall of the atrium. I didn’t know how I knew, but I realized it was the rune for fire. As my eyes scanned the other passages, I saw they were labeled with runes meaning fear, vengeance, and darkness. Weirdly macabre for a museum. But I had a disturbing feeling we weren’t in one. Not anymore.

At the center of the atrium was a large pedestal, as if a statue was supposed to be there. But at the moment, it was empty. The whole place felt unfinished.

“I suppose you must feel a bit lost,” my companion said. She handed me the DVD and the bag of fast food. When I looked down at the DVD, it was a documentary titled “A Record of the First Crusade.” Was she really into history like that? On a date? So much for the rom-com.

“What the hell are these?” I asked, looking at the four passages. “Where’s the Fossilworks? The planetarium?” I dropped the DVD and reached out, trying to touch her shoulder, but my hand passed through as if she were made of smoke. “What’s happening?”

“Our date, silly,” she said. “Don’t you want to spend time with me?”

“Of course, but last I remember, the museum never had an exhibit labeled ‘fire,’ okay?”

“Ah,” she said, thoughtful for a moment. “You could translate it that way if you wished, but I prefer to think of it as ‘Destruction.’”

“That’s not any better,” I said.

She pointed to each of the passages in turn. “Followed by ‘Dread,’ ‘Retribution,’ and ‘Shadow.’ Together, the four aspects of the Great One.”

“The four points of the crown,” I whispered, as the realization washed over me. My mind flooded with memories as I remembered waking up in a coffin, living at the top of an evil tower with Desdemona Fell. Why had this dream taunted me with a life that was over, only to devolve into this? It was a sick joke, but I didn’t know who was telling it.

“You figured it out,” she said, smiling, but in her smile there was something almost sinister. “You’re a fast learner. But those three aren’t ready yet.” She started to walk towards the first passage, the Hall of Destruction. Though the other passages were dark, this one was dimly lit.

A line of gold led from the crown on the floor into the passage, as if guiding us inside, and it emanated a fierce, orange glow.

“This is my favorite part of the temple,” she said and gave me a wink.

Temple, I thought, not a museum.

“What’s the difference?” she asked, as if she could hear my thoughts.

We entered the hall, which contained glass cases filled with artifacts and dioramas depicting destruction in all forms—violence, war, famine, and disasters, both natural and man-made. Ahead of us, the centerpiece of this area was a model depicting a giant comet falling on a medieval-looking city.

Greg-Theryx had called that comet, I remembered. It had happened in the Book. My headache intensified, the pain increasing until I winced and dropped the paper bag. Instead of the burgers and fries I’d hoped for, purple moss spilled onto the floor.

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I didn’t bother to pick it up.

Past the comet, I noticed the rest of this wing was still dark and empty. Unfinished, at least for now.

“What’s happening to me?” I asked, tears streaming from my eyes, a psychic force gnawing my mind. It was as if my head now held too much to bear—two identities clashing within me, the man and the demon, the museum of my past and the strange, otherworldly temple of my present.

She reached out, her fingernails growing into black claws as she touched my head, stroking my hair softly. “You’re awakening,” she said, “slowly, but surely, to your potential. You must finish this place, your temple. You must find the right companions, whose bonds will awaken the crown. Do you understand?”

“No,” I said, “I don’t—”

But then the pain became too much for me, and I doubled over, falling onto the black marble. The light from the floor pulsed next to me, that reassuring orange glow. I was safe here, as long as the light was with me. I would grit my teeth, and work through the pain.

As I lay there in agony, a realization dawned on me. The light was hers, or perhaps it was our light, the light of our union. Flickering, now and then, but eager to burn.

“Mona,” I whispered, “is that you?”

But when I looked up, she was gone, and the rest of the world had faded away as if I were on a raft, adrift in a sea of shadows. I tried to crawl back the way we’d come, but I was so turned around I had no sense of direction.

A whisper stopped me cold, a deep voice from somewhere right next to me. “My, my… I did not expect to see you here. At last, you have shown yourself to me, usurper.”

“Who’s there?” I asked, my words faltering, darkness gripping my heart as I tried to stand but could only kneel, looking around frantically to find the source of the voice. But it had come from everywhere and nowhere. “Who the fuck are you?” I shouted. “Show yourself to me, you bastard!”

My anger was a mask for my fear, one I needed desperately.

“You know who I am,” He said, his voice so close it sounded like it had come from inside my skull. I whirled around, but there was nothing.

He laughed, and the wan light underneath me faded until I was alone in the dark. But his laughter carried on, echoing within me, until it felt like I was laughing, too.

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I awoke with a start to the cold light of dawn over menacing, mist-shrouded mountains. My hand searched until I found the heat of Mona’s body in our bed and rubbed her shoulder, to reassure myself she was still real, that she had not faded in the night. “Good morning,” she murmured, still half asleep, and shifted closer until her back was pressed against my chest.

“Do you… How did you sleep?” I asked. It was only a nightmare. There was no way it had been real.

“Not bad,” she said, groaning, pushing her head deeper into the pillow.

“No, uh, weird dreams?” Had that really been her talking to me? Or only a figment of my imagination?

“Slept like the dead. Your offering had quite the effect.”

“How do you feel?” I asked, my eyes glancing down toward her shoulder. My eyes widened, for it was almost healed. The only evidence of the sword wound was a bright patch of skin, a shade lighter than the rest.

She nodded. “Much better.” She flexed the fingers on her wounded arm, lifted it above the covers, then rotated her shoulder. “I feel damned good.” She smiled. “Thank you, Master.”

I laughed. “The pleasure was mine. I feel like I should be thanking you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you learned yet, Master? You needn’t thank anyone, least of all me.”

“Old habits are hard to break. And what? Not out there, obviously, but even amongst ourselves?”

“A bad habit,” she said. “One day, we might be less alone than we think.”

“Fair enough. I just meant you did save my life, too, after all. You’ve done it twice, now.”

“It pleases me that I could help you and that you helped me. I enjoy our partnership, Greg.”

“Is that what this is?” I asked. “We’re partners?”

“What would you call it?”

“I’m not sure.” I stared up at the silk canopy above us, my mind wandering as I tried to think—what was she to me, and what was I to her? We had just been placed here by chance, I thought. Neither of us had chosen this, and yet… “It’s only been a little more than a day.”

“Mere acquaintances, then?” she asked.

Mona had gone in the wrong direction. We may have only spent a little over a day together, but it had been the most strange, consequential time I had ever experienced. And for most of it, she’d been there by my side.

I wondered if I had gone mad with the novelty of being alive again when I had expected to be at peace forever. Maybe I was simply enamored with the woman who had summoned me, who had brought me back. But if I was, who could blame me when the woman who had saved me, who had given me life again, was Desdemona Fell?

“I think we’re more than that, Mona,” I said, and her lips parted in surprise. I could see the color rising in her cheeks. “Let’s see. Maybe my problem was trying to choose one word. We’re partners, yes, allies, friends, and now lovers.”

“You forgot one,” she said, eyes gleaming at me. “Master…” She turned around, squirming until her lips were next to my ear. As she leaned in, her soft flesh pressed against me, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. “…and High Priestess. You may not be a god, but I want you to be my god.”

“I…” For a moment, I didn’t know how to take that. “I’ll try my best.”

“Last night, you didn’t try. You were,” she said. She kissed me gently on the cheek. “When I saw you, I think I realized for the first time that you could do it. I want to be yours, Master. In return, I have only one request.”

“A request?” I asked. “What would you like?”

“Just keep doing what you did last night,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Wait! I want two, I mean, three things…”

“Oh?” I thought there might soon be more than just three. But I felt confident I would happily do whatever she asked. I had almost forgotten my troubling dream. Mona didn’t seem to be bothered, so it must have just been me. My mind playing tricks on me, trying to frighten me now that things were finally starting to go my way.

“Second request: A daily offering of your Godseed.” This was beginning to sound more like my fantasy rather than hers, but I supposed that meant our desires were mutual. “Third request: No one else gets your seed without my approval.”

“Your approval?” I asked. “I hadn’t planned to give anyone else my, uh, ‘seed,’ anyway.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Master. Your Godseed is incredibly valuable, and it is a resource we must exploit. Whatever you do, do not let the Princess entrap you with hundreds of spider-children. All those spawn would have claims to Dreadthorn and your divinity!” She looked at me seriously, then shook her head in disgust. “What a disaster that would be. That kind of poor political maneuvering I will frankly not tolerate. My God would never do anything so foolish, nor would he squander the loyal devotion of his most ardent and valuable follower, by which I mean myself, so—”

“I didn’t want to have any spider children anyway!” I said.

She nodded at me. “Well, that’s good. I see you’ve already been well trained, Master.”

“I mean, I didn’t want to in the—” The more I thought about it, the more it seemed pointless to argue. “You’ve taught me well, Mona. Since I have a conflict of interest when it comes to the, uh, distribution of my ‘Godseed,’ perhaps you should handle that as part of your duties as the High Priestess.”

She smiled and gave me a wink. “Now, Master, that is an excellent idea. I am so happy you reached that sensible conclusion entirely of your own volition.”

This woman was dangerous, I thought, but I could hardly mind it. Her dangerousness, after all, possessed an appeal of its own. She shifted until she was straddling me, her hands against my chest so that I felt my heart beat against her palm. I could already feel my cock beginning to harden under the sheets, twitching against Mona’s thighs as she squirmed atop me, grinding our bodies together. She leaned towards me and whispered, “Um, Master? Do you think we could take care of my second request now?”

I was trying to remember which order they had come in. “You mean the, uh, the daily…” My voice trailed off.

She said nothing, only nodded at me with pleading eyes as she bit her bottom lip. She pulled the sheets off me, then climbed underneath. Her fingers touched my leg, drawing a circle around my groin and towards my stomach. I found myself at her mercy. At that moment, she could have asked me for twenty more things, or a hundred, and I knew I probably would have said yes to all of them.

The softness of the silk sheets and Mona’s skin mingled in my senses. Her scent lingered in the air, her skin smooth as I idly stroked her arm. She began to kiss the inside of my thigh softly, the tip of her tongue against my skin, slowly tracing a line towards her actual destination, my nerves ablaze with feeling, my blood rushing from my head.

“Wait,” I said, between shocks of pleasure.

She stopped suddenly and looked up at me, those wide, pleading eyes looking as if I had just denied her a fine meal and that I’d better have a damn good reason for interrupting her.

“It occurs to me that we should handle your requests in order, you know,” I said. “First, then second. Or, you know, for the sake of efficiency, since I already see light on the horizon, we could fulfill both at the same time.”

Her eyes widened a little. “I hadn’t considered that possibility,” she said as if a movie was playing in her head, and she enjoyed what she saw. “Well,” she said, “for the sake of efficiency.”

It took some time for us to get comfortable. But in the end, we writhed like animals, our energies pouring back and forth between us, pleasure building with every touch and every taste of tongue on skin. Our bodies bucked and spasmed. Our Wills rocked like ocean waves crashing against a wall that could never hope to contain them, and when we at last broke through, spilling outward in mutual release, lost amidst ourselves, I could not tell which skin was mine or hers, where each of us ended or began.