Sound returned with the rustle of leaves and clatter of metal. The troll sitting across from Seph leaned forward eagerly.
“So?”
“What do you-” Seph doubled over. Pain radiated out from her core, from her head, from her spine. Fire spread over her skin until every cell in her body was burning. The agony ripped out of her chest in a tortured scream that echoed from the cinderblock walls and hummed in the springs of the cot.
The woman was beside her, holding Seph’s shoulders. She was saying something, but the words were far away. Something pushed her hands away from her head and she gripped the curved horns tightly.
Eventually, the pain receded. With a faint twang that traveled through her body, the memory of it disappeared as well. She looked up at the concerned faces looking down at her. One was the familiar marble visage of beauty, and the other a man, gently pickled in alcohol and summer sun.
What?
“Um hi, you must be Ian?”
The worried stares continued for a moment, before the man spoke.
“Jesus Christ that was unsettling.”
“Persephone, are you all right?” The troll was holding Seph by her bare shoulders, and she felt warmth pouring into her from the contact. Unconsciously she leaned into the touch.
“Yeah? I’m fine. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No pain, no discomfort?”
“I’m really hungry.”
“Right. Skin shouldn't ripple like....” Ian wandered out the door, shuddering. The troll-
“Hey, what’s your name?” The stone woman shot her a faintly suspicious look and sat back, dropping her arms with a clink.
“I’m Cassie. Cassie Lane. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes! Why do you keep asking me that?”
“You screamed. Loudly.”
“It was fecking horrifying.” Ian entered the room again, now holding a battered tin camping bowl. He was holding it through a small blanket, and fragrant steam wafted into the air. It smelled of a rich, meaty stew, and Seph accepted the bowl gratefully. She spread the blanket over her legs for an added layer of protection and set the bowl down. The cot grumbled with poor grace, and underneath it a wisp of red light shivered.
“Thank you! Wow this smells really good!”
Ian beamed, but Cassie threw him a cautioning glance.
“Ian, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Nonsense, she’s been asleep for a day, and you found her bleeding half to death. Some stew will do her good.” The man handed her an equally battered spoon and sat on one of the wooden chairs. “Eat up, girl.”
“I’m Seph.” She smiled at him, holding a bite of stew to cool.
“Ian McAlester, at your service.” The elf gave her a wobbly bow, which let her see his pointed ears. “Eat!”
“Seph, that may not-“ Cassie stopped speaking as Seph put the bite in her mouth. It was still a little too hot, but she was hungry. It was good! The chunk of potato burned her mouth a little, but she persevered past the pain. She could taste herbs and the rich, thick texture that is the hallmark of an excellent stew.
Seph paused. The potato in her mouth wasn’t food.
When Seph had been in high school, she had played the saxophone for a semester in marching band. She had spent countless hours with a reed in her mouth. She’d actually come to enjoy the taste, but it wasn’t food. The stew was the same way. Every instinct she had was telling her that the savoury fare currently delighting her taste buds was as edible as plastic. She swallowed anyway and immediately gagged. Her body was not happy with this decision.
“What?” She stared down at the stew, doing her best to keep the spoonful down. “Did you put something in this?”
“I just had a bowl of it myself.” Ian was staring at her, confused, but Cassie just looked resigned. She gently took the bowl from Seph and leaned back to put it on the last remaining empty chair. Seph looked her over suspiciously, ignoring the fresh wave of arousal that blossomed when her eyes strayed south of the troll’s face.
“How did you know that was going to happen?”
“Seph, we describe the history of people returning to Earth in terms of Waves. The First Wave was the biggest. Lots of humans were returned to the empty Earth in a single moment. We don’t know how many, because long-range communications were gone, but I’ve heard people estimate that 5% of the population were returned on that day. They kept trickling in, too, all over the world.
"People thought that was the end of it, but then the Second Wave happened. A few, then hundreds, then thousands of people came back as elves. That wasn’t so bad, they were basically humans with pointy ears.”
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Ian harrumphed at this but kept quiet otherwise. Underneath the cot, the red glow had turned to orange.
“People didn’t stop coming back as humans, it’s just that some people were coming back human, some people were coming back as elves.”
“Dwarves weren’t that different either, but some minor differences had started to show up. Almost all dwarves have agoraphobia and die in the sunlight. A lot of dwarves still die in the first few minutes. They come back in the open and burn before they know what’s happening.”
“Trolls, too. But you came later.”
“We did. Before us were the beastkin, people with animal traits. Then the trolls, with our stone bodies. Do you see the pattern?”
Cassie sat and let Seph think.
Let’s see. Human, Elf, Dwarf, Beastkin, Troll.
Shit. I see it.
“Each wave gets further and further away from human.”
Cassie nodded, and Ian looked glum.
“It’s a theory. It isn’t popular, but that’s mostly because people don’t want it to be true. Especially after the Deep Trolls…” Ian trailed off with a shudder, and Cassie shot him a look that Seph couldn’t read.
“We’ll talk about subraces later, but you get the picture. I think you’re something new, Persephone. And you look pretty human on the outside, so that means that there most be some big changes on the inside.”
Seph looked down at her hands. They now looked like they’d been dipped in black ink up past her elbow. They hadn't been that way before she'd been in the grey void. Other than that, they looked more or less human.
“Seph,” Cassie entreated softly, “What species are you?”
Seph’s eyes remained glued to her fingers, although now it was more to avoid Cassie’s gaze.
“I’m… The boxes said I’m a succubus.”
Air hissed out between Ian’s teeth. “Ouch.” Cassie punched his leg, and although she didn’t put much force in the blow, the elf still yelped in pain.
“That would explain why stew wouldn’t satisfy your needs.” The troll’s tone was careful. Ian snorted.
“True enough. We’re your food.”
“Ian!” He dodged the punch this time. Cassie never moved particularly quickly.
“Persephone, could you double check for me?” Seph nodded.
Status.
Status
Name: Persephone Evans
Age: 26
Traits
Runeweaver Succubus
Essence Runesmith
N/A
Level 1
Level 1
N/A
Pools
Health:
N/A
Mana:
N/A
Essence:
6
Essence Consumption:
1/hour
Seph felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and she tried to fight them off. She glared at the status screen.
“I don’t want to be a succubus.”
That was stupid. Childish. But there it was. She examined her hand again. Where the ink-black met milk-white, it fragmented off into vaguely symbol-like shapes that spiraled smaller and smaller up to her shoulder. The hand was slightly more slender than she remembered, and was missing the scar from when she had burned herself on a hot engine in high school. It wasn’t her hand. And yet it was. She touched her now-slightly-longer horns and hugged her arms over a slightly-enlarged bust. Her body was different. It wasn’t the body she was familiar with, but all of her instincts were telling her that it was hers.
“But apparently what I want doesn’t matter.”
Bitter. The words were so bitter they curled her lip as she spat them. She forced herself to breathe.
Calm water.
When her shaking was under control, Cassie pushed softly.
“Persephone, what did your status say? What species are you?”
Seph blinked.
Right.
“I don’t see any species section, but I have this trait called ‘Runeweaver Succubus’. Runeweaver?”
“Don’t worry, that’s just your subrace. Everyone has one. I’m a High Troll, Ian’s a Hill Elf.”
“Wait, don’t traits modify other things?”
Ian laughed.
“Yeah. You.”
Cassie was more helpful. She crossed her legs and gazed at the ceiling thoughtfully.
“Everyone has three ‘trait’ slots. One is your race, two are your classes. I don’t know why, it’s an awkward system. But you level in each of them separately.”
Ian cut the tutorial short, just as a red notification went off in the corner of her vision. She ignored it to focus on the elf.
“So. We know what you are, but that doesn’t tell us the most important thing”, He leaned in, “You’re going to need to feed off people. Is that a party someone can live through?”
When the elf mentioned feeding off people, Seph felt the hunger deep inside her throb harder. She hugged her stomach tightly. At some point the blanket had fallen below her breasts again, but she didn’t care. Her nipples were achingly hard, and between their stiff points and her flushed cheeks, the others could clearly see what state she was in. She tried to focus.
“Umm. Is there a way to find that out without actually… fucking?”
The two beings sitting across from Seph nodded in counterpoint.
Cassie uncrossed her long, perfectly-sculpted legs and leaned forward. She was saying something, but Seph was very distracted. She wondered how the marble lips tasted, if they would pull into her mouth when she kissed up the smooth stone labia. Her mouth was watering, and she realized her hand was creeping between her own thighs when she was brought back to the moment by some loud snapping in her face.
“You all right there, Seph?” Cassie was so close. Seph caught her hand. Warmth spilled into her from the touch and she shivered. The heat collected in her core and dripped downwards. She pressed the hand to her cheek and moaned softly with the pleasure that touch engendered. The heat was building inside her and she was having a really hard time resisting… what? What was she resisting again? She put one of the delicate fingers to her lips. It was so smooth, and warmer than she thought stone should be.
She sucked it into her mouth. It felt so good against her tongue, and she spent a moment enjoying the sensation of a warm glow sliding down her throat. The pleasure buzzed across her nerves and she sucked the digit, teasing it with her tongue. The finger was pulled from her mouth, much to her displeasure.
“Persephone. Seph. Seph!”
Seph looked up muzzily.
“Hmm?”
Ian and Cassie exchanged a glance.
“Damn, she’s really far gone.”
Cassie scooted back in her seat, looking off into the air in front of her. “Ian, I don’t see any changes to my status. Except I’m one point of mana down. If that’s all she’s taking, then I’ll be fine. If not… Sweetheart, I need you to focus for me.”
Seph tried. She really did, but lust was raging through her. The stew hadn’t been food, but the six-foot-two marble goddess in front of her-
The woman, currently looking so concerned and quite a bit aroused herself-
Was.