The takeout boxes still steamed quietly on my coffee table, a faint aroma of soy sauce and sesame rising into the air. Abbadon lounged across from me. He looked too relaxed, too perfect, like someone had Photoshopped him into reality and forgotten to make him human.
One glance out the window revealed the sun was setting, painting the sky across the glass in hues of deep orange and purple. My city always looked so beautiful in this light. But at this moment, it felt so far away. It felt as if I was in a void, completely separate from any semblance of normalcy.
"I need you to focus," his voice, like liquid honey, pulled me back to reality, if one can even call it that. "We should start by discussing your first assignment."
I froze mid-bite, chopsticks hovering. "Assignment?"
"Why do you think I'm here? Small talk? Come on, Kassie, get with the program. Now, listen closely. Your first assignment will be consuming Warren Chen. First loves make for the best initiation."
"I'm not… following," I put the chopsticks down, realizing the food was just causing more trouble at this point. "Consume him?"
Abbadon rolled his eyes, and I was pretty certain I caught a glimpse of perfect white fangs. "What part of 'succubus' do you not get? I swear, Lust always gives me the dumbest initiates."
I wasn't sure what to say to that, so I stayed silent, simply staring at him.
"Your looks, your allure, your insight, it all serves one purpose. Consuming prey. Consuming men in your case. Or women, if that's something you want to try too."
He looked at me expectantly, as if that was supposed to explain it all, and when I still had nothing to say, he sighed. His eyes were flickering with what could only be described as annoyance. He sat up in his chair, his muscles tensing under his all-too-tight white tee. I felt rather vulnerable in that moment.
"Consume, Kassie. Eating their souls, if we're being literal. That's what you do now, that's your purpose, your function. You seduce men, lure them in, and consume their soul, often very violently, in order to send it off to Hell, where our patron adds them to his collection. Kapeesh?"
Ending that explanation with "kapeesh" definitely didn't help lighten the mood. Instead, all I could do was feel even more dumbfounded. The way I saw it, there were two possibilities: either whatever drugs I'm on have yet to wear off, or he's telling me a terrible truth. So let's pretend it's the latter for the moment. Let's pretend this is real and true. And let's show a little agency. After all, this is my life that he's dismantling with his words.
"The contract I accepted…" I began to speak at last. "It said the cost was my soul. I'm assuming my soul has been paid, whatever that means. So… I don't remember agreeing to any consuming-other-peoples-soul clause."
"Fine print, Kassie," he rolled his eyes, and with another flick of his wrist, that same contract UI from the prior night appeared.
A floating window, translucent and glowing pink-violet. The text shimmered just like it had, displaying the text I remembered.
[NEW CONTRACT AVAILABLE]
Title: The Succubus Strut
Reward: Beauty. Desirability. Power.
Cost: One (1) mortal soul
But right there, at the bottom corner, in the tiniest font in the world were the words:
Terms and Conditions
You had to be kidding me. I reached out to click it, and suddenly a mass of text appeared before my eyes, practically blocking out my entire room. The scroll bar on the side shrunk and shrunk as more text loaded and loaded. I leaned back in my chair, feeling absolutely overwhelmed as Abbadon waved his hand over the box, making the UI disappear.
I pressed my palms to my face, trying to calm myself. "You can't be serious. What the hell did I agree to?"
"Well, for starters," he answered. "Consuming Warren Chen."
I looked up at him, the wheels in my brain turning like cogs as I tried to process what he was saying. If "consume" means what he said it means, then he wants me to kill Warren Chen?
I was silent for a second, swallowing his words. "But why?"
"Lucifer give me strength." He sighed again, sinking low into his chair. "Pursuant to Section II, Subsection (d), the designated Patron reserves full discretionary authority to select, assign, and claim souls for acquisition and integration into His collection, without limitation or right of contestation by the contracted party. In accordance with Subsection (e), it is further recommended that the initial target of consumption be one to whom the Initiate holds preexisting emotional attachment, commonly referred to as a 'first love,' for the purpose of tempering sentiment and eradicating residual mortal attachment. I can't really be more clear than that."
The silence spread between us again, his eyes watching me, waiting for his words to sink in. And when they finally had, when I finally understood what he was saying, all I could think in reply was…
"No."
"No?"
"No, I'm not hurting Warren Chen."
Another eye roll.
But then he did something I didn't expect. He stood up. Before I knew it, he was across the room, and so was I. I felt the impact as I was slammed into a wall, his hand curled around my throat, holding me four feet up above the ground. I looked up at him with wide eyes, watching the way his skin shimmered, revealing golden scales melding into skin. He looked almost draconic, with his eyes on fire and his hands, clawed and grizzled, scraping at my neck. I could feel blood between us, hot and heavy, as it dripped down my neck.
I gripped my hand around his wrist, trying to pull him off. I could only let out small gasps and wheezes as I tried to breathe. But the air wasn't connecting, the heaviness in my lungs getting harder and harder to ignore. I sucked in, feeling the air stop right where his hand held me, unable to break through.
He just stared at me the entire time, emotionless. Only to lean in a few seconds later and whisper:
"Succubuses who don't eat die. It's that simple. If you plan on refusing assignment and starving to death, then let's spare me the headache and cut to the chase now?"
I banged my hand into his arm once more, trying again to dislodge it. It was getting harder to move my body, the thoughts struggling to connect to the body parts.
"Quit struggling. It's just another minute now. Isn't that what you want?"
I shook my head no, but I was barely able to lift it, let alone move it. I could feel my vision blur, a black spot appearing in the distance, followed by another.
He let me go right then, and I fell into a heap on the floor. I coughed and choked, desperately inhaling air. I reached out, my hand tightening around his shoes as I used it for leverage to get up. But I wasn't even able to stand. So I sat there, coughing more and more as I tried to fill my lungs.
He touched me again, and I winced, letting out a small cry as he hoisted me up by the arm. He pulled me across the room and threw me back on the couch. Then he walked over to his chair and sat down.
"Now, as I was saying. Your first assignment is to consume Warren Chen."
I sat there trembling, my throat raw.
Abbadon, meanwhile, didn't look sorry. Not even a little. He smoothed an invisible crease from his shirt sleeve, his golden eyes dimming back to something merely inhumanly beautiful.
"Lesson one," he said calmly. "You are not human anymore. Stop acting like one."
I managed a rasp. "You almost killed me!"
He tilted his head. "Well first of all, they keyword there is almost. Secondly, I'm a fucking demon, what do you expect? I do two things pretty well in life, and indulging in violence is one of them."
I swallowed hard, the pain flaring down my throat. "You're insane."
"Maybe." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice dropping to a cool, steady rhythm, like a teacher who'd given this lecture a hundred times before. "Now, your current stats are basic." He gestured toward the invisible air beside me, and my UI flickered to life again, glowing faintly pink in the room's dim light.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
Class: Initiate Succubus
Rank: D
Patron: The Prince of Lust
Level: 1
Mana: 50
Hunger: 67% (declining)
Attributes: Allure 1 | Insight 1 | Consume
/////////////////////////////////////////////
I swallowed again, more cautiously this time. "And if I don't consume people, my hunger hits 0?"
Abbadon gave a dry little smirk. "You're catching on."
He gestured lazily, and the projection expanded into smaller panels. "Let's break it down."
He tapped the first icon with a finger. His hands were normal again, no longer the draconic claws that were choking the life out of me a moment ago. I turned my attention away from those hands and to the UI; there were three smaller boxes flickering in front of me now.
/////////////////////////////////////////////
[PASSIVE] Allure - Level 1
Description: The succubus's inherent magnetism. Allure shapes how others perceive you.
Effect: At this level, most mortals experience heightened attraction and fascination. Self-control remains possible.
[PASSIVE] Insight — Level 1
Description: The whisper beneath the eyes. Upon direct eye contact, fleeting impressions of a target's desires or intentions surface within your consciousness.
Effect: Grants subtle, involuntary impressions, fragmented emotions, stray words, flashes of want.
[ACTIVE] Consume — Level 1
Description: The sacred act of the succubus. When invoked during intimacy, the caster drains the essence, life, and memory of the target.
Effect: Sates hunger bar and condemns target's soul.
Mana Cost: 0
/////////////////////////////////////////////
I felt my stomach twist. "That's murder."
He shrugged. "It's survival. Humans are never squeamish about killing to eat, this is just a different kind of hunger."
I exhaled shakily. "I can't believe this is happening." I wanted to add that I couldn't do it, I wanted to argue against it, insist that this was a mistake. But I knew better than to annoy that man at this moment.
"Sure, you can," he said with a slow, lazy smile. "You're just scared. That's natural."
He rose, stretching, moving toward the door with predatory grace. Before leaving, he looked back over his shoulder. "The first kill is always the hardest. I've been where you were, and if it's any comfort, I assure you, it's all worth it in the long run. This kind of power," he held up his hand, shifting it so his golden scales glittered in the sunlight, "it's the best thing that ever happens to the likes of us."
I exhaled, the apartment suddenly silent. I was alone… except for that twisting, gnawing pull inside me. Hunger. Fear. Curiosity. All swirling together into something unimaginable.
I pushed myself off the couch, picking up a box of noodles with shaky fingers. I had to figure out what I was going to do.
It was then that my phone buzzed. I almost didn't answer before realizing that it could be the perfect distraction from the craziness. A hint of normalcy, perhaps. So, I opened it up, expecting a text from my parents, or even that one annoying lady who nags me about student loan payments. But the number at the top of my phone was alien to me.
Since there was no name, I pulled the notification box down and read the message:
"Kassie, could you come in late? Need help finding some files."
My pulse quickened. I had given Warren my number. That was the last person I needed to be talking to tonight. For his sake and mine.
But I knew in that moment how futile it was. It was a strange case of kill or be killed, not that I thought I had any real chance of hurting the man. He was big and strong enough to throw me out a window if he wanted to. The downside was that Abbadon had the same power and had already proven his ease in using it.
There was another part of me, a part I felt rather guilty about. It was excited. Practically buzzing at the thought that Warren Chen, the man I pined for almost a decade, was texting me. That he was calling me to the office for a late-night rendezvous. He probably just wanted help finding files, but still, he thought to ask me instead of someone else. And that sent my childish heart ablaze.
If only I didn't have to plot his demise.
I sighed. My apartment felt small, it felt suffocating in this moment. So, I grabbed my bag and headed into the night.
~
The office was quiet when I arrived, that eerie kind of quiet that only happens after hours. The cubicles stretched out in rows like hollow little rooms, their partitions casting long, uneven shadows under the flickering fluorescents. Static computer screens, half-empty water bottles, and abandoned papers sat frozen in place, as if the people who owned them had simply vanished mid-sentence. The air smelled faintly of toner and cleaning solution, and every sound, the hum of the lights, the scuff of my shoes, echoed too loud, too real.
"Thanks for coming," Warren said from the far side of the room. He was crouched by a filing cabinet against the wall, one sleeve rolled to his elbow, a few loose papers spread around him. "I can't find the October donor reports anywhere."
I dropped my bag on the edge of a desk and crossed the room, trying to keep my breathing steady. "The donor reports are more of a finance sector thing. You should try calling Elliot."
"Ah, but I always bug him about these things. Besides, I figured you wouldn't complain too much since you owe me. I did rescue you at the elevator after all." The words came out in an amused tone, as if he was telling a lighthearted joke. But I simply felt myself hitch at that one word: rescue. He had rescued me, more than once now.
How could I ever hurt the man who showed me kindness in a cruel world?
Sure, he had totally forgotten about me at the gala. But he was busy. It was like Tina said, he was in politician mood. Totally nothing odd about the fact that he only remembered my name when I looked like a supermodel sent from Heaven (or more appropriately Hell).
I managed a polite smile, and flickered my gaze to the pile of folders. My heart thumped like it wanted to escape. The gnawing in my stomach flared, just enough to make my palms sweat. I sat there next to him, shifting through the tan documents. He leaned closer to reach for a folder, brushing against me in a way that made me melt.
"It has to be here somewhere," he murmured.
"You're sure they're on this floor?"
"They should be here. I filed them myself."
The room stretched around us, the darkness of the far corners pressing in. Every time the AC clicked, I flinched. We moved from one cabinet to another, shuffling through folders. The smell of paper and toner was thick, and the faint warmth of Warren's cologne trailed with every motion. I kept catching myself glancing at him, his hands, the lines of his jaw, the way the light carved against his cheekbone. And every time, that strange hunger inside me pulsed a little stronger.
I felt it then, a pang of abdominal pain, followed by a flicker as that same UI appeared on the wall ahead of me.
[Hunger: 55% (declining)]
Warren suddenly froze, hand buried in a drawer. "Got it," he said, exhaling. He pulled out a folder and tapped it against his palm. "Guess I owe you one."
"Glad to help," I murmured, standing. I really hadn't done much, but maybe that was a good thing, the fact that I would be out of here pretty soon. And hey, no one had to die. That had to be a win.
Warren straightened and turned to me with an easy grin. "I feel so stupid dragging you out here at this hour."
"It's okay," I decided before trying to lighten the mood. "I'm getting paid overtime for this, right?"
"Ha, that's more than fair." He nodded before glancing down at his watch. "But I do feel bad; surely I can do better than just some overtime pay."
I wanted to dismiss the idea, but curiosity got the better of me. "Oh?"
"How about a drink for coming all the way out here?"
Now that was a bad idea. But I managed a smile in the name of politeness nonetheless. "I think drinking with my boss and accidentally spilling all my deep, dark secrets isn't the best way to make a first impression."
"As far as I'm concerned, you've already made a flawless first impression."
"Then I might as well end on a high note."
He tilted his head, mock stern. "Kassie. Don't make me pull rank. I'll have to fire you for insubordination."
I laughed despite myself. "Fine. One drink. Where do you want to go?" The hopeless romantic part of me was buzzing at the thought. This almost felt like a date.
"The most exclusive establishment I know," he gestured for me to follow.
He led the way to his office, the sound of our footsteps too loud against the carpet floors. I had never been in his office, but I did remember staring through the windows whenever I got a chance, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, hoping he'd catch one of me. Now, he was holding that door open. It felt like he was inviting me into his world.
His office was warmer than the rest of the building, books stacked on the filing cabinet, a few framed degrees on the wall.
"Sit," he said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. I sank into it, the leather cool beneath my palms.
He grabbed a bottle from the credenza and poured two short glasses, the amber liquid catching the light. Then, instead of sitting behind the desk, he perched on the edge of it: close. Too close. Our knees brushed when he leaned forward to hand me the glass.
I looked down at my drink, watching the amber liquid swirl. I was never keen on whiskey, so maybe that's why it smelled so strange: sweet, smoky, but with something else. Something I couldn't quite place. I hesitated, swirling it once before taking a small sip. It burned, then coated my tongue with a flavor that felt odd and out of place. Maybe this was just what expensive whiskey tasted like.
"You look tense," he said quietly.
"I'm fine," I lied, setting the glass down.
He smirked. "Are you lying to me, Kassie?"
I looked up to respond, but he was already leaning in. The space between us shrank, his gaze locked on mine, his breath warm against my cheek. "You ever let yourself relax?" he murmured.
Before I could answer, his hand brushed my hair behind my ear. The touch was gentle, deliberate.
He watched me over the rim of his glass, studying me like I was something more interesting than the whiskey. "I like how you don't complain," he said, voice low, almost amused. "I know I haven't known you long, but most people whine and give me excuses whenever I ask them to come in late."
"I'm just used to keeping busy."
"Or maybe," he said, leaning forward slightly, "you like being the dependable one. You strike me as a good girl type anyways."
His tone made the word good sound like something dangerous. I shifted in my seat, acutely aware of how close he was.
He smiled when I didn't move away. "You've got this calmness about you, Kassie. Like no matter what's going on, you're always okay with it. It's…" He hesitated, his gaze drifting down my face to my chest, "…kind of intoxicating."
The air between us changed then. He set his glass aside, the soft clink of crystal.
"You're making me sound more interesting than I am," I said, my voice smaller than I meant it to be.
He chuckled. "Trust me, I've been around long enough to know when someone's boring."
I came to a realization of sorts. This man thought he met me yesterday. And in that short amount of time, he had declared me the most interesting person he knew. In truth, he had no idea who I was, and I barely gave him anything but short answers. I don't think I've said a single interesting thing to him.
Yet I believed him when he called me intoxicating. It was so hard to disbelieve that deep look in his eyes.
So this is what it feels like… to be a girl so beautiful that men fall for you in a matter of hours. To be so attractive that you can say literally nothing of note and they will think you the most interesting person alive. It almost felt ironic, hilarious even, the fact that I used to try so hard.
Was this what life was like on easy mode?
"What are you thinking?" He reached out, just grazing his fingers over my knee. His touch was enough to bring me back into the moment. I wasn't sure how to manage my feelings at this moment, especially with him touching me.
I knew I had to shut that hopeless romantic part of me down, the part that wanted his touch, that wanted his attention, that wanted to be the most interesting person in the world to him.
I had to remind myself that this was dangerous. That I might hurt my hero.
I swallowed hard. "You shouldn't."
He tilted his head, eyes catching mine with surprising intensity. He looked different; his eyes were so dark. "Shouldn't what?"
My throat went dry. He leaned in a little more, the faint scent of smoke and cedar from his cologne curling around me.
"Warren," I whispered, unsure if it was a warning or a plea.
"You know," he said softly, "you're a bad liar, Kassie. You say one thing, but your body is practically begging for another. But it's okay, I'll can take care of you."
As I watched him, I felt something buzz in my head: like static, craning in and out of existence. As if I was tapping into a radio channel.
[Passive Skill Activated: Insight (rank 1)]
SCANNING…
At first, all I felt was warmth. Then the edges started to fray. Beneath his smile, I felt tension, frustration, want. And beneath that, I felt something else. I felt rage.
It pulsed under his skin with each second he looked at me. And then I heard it, his voice, muted and filtered, ringing straight in my head:
She shouldn't look at me like that.
She'll regret it.
But that's what she wants.
Why else would she come tonight.
His hand lifted again, cradling the side of my face and pulling me into his lips. I felt a shard of ice rip through me. How the hell does one describe their first kiss? It wasn't gentle like I thought it would be; instead, it felt hungry, starving, even. His other hand came up to tangle itself in my hair, holding me close, making it impossible to resist. Not that I wanted to.
In fact, the thought of breaking contact infuriated me. My body took over all on its own. Before I knew it, I was climbing onto his lap, my legs straddling him as I practically devoured our kiss. I felt that hunger inside of me slowly sate, like a plant that was finally getting its first drop of water.
His hand slid to the back of my neck, drawing me closer, while my fingers curled around the edge of his shirt. The hunger inside me surged, dark, electric, alive. I was about to tear his shirt off, and it was taking every ounce of my being to keep from doing it.
"God, Kassie…"
His voice, so dark and delirious, sent shivers up my legs.
Consume, something whispered.
I gasped and tore myself away, stumbling back from him like the air itself had burned me.
He blinked, looking a bit surprised before that easy smile returned. "It's okay, you don't have to be shy."
"I have to go!"
"Kassie, it's okay, it really is."
"No, I… I just remembered I have something to do." It was a lame excuse, but my brain wasn't exactly firing at 100% at the moment.
"Relax, it's okay. Here," he got up, reaching for the bottle that was by the credenza. "Let me pour you another drink."
It felt impossible to pull away, but I reminded myself his life was at risk, and I grabbed my bag from the chair. That kiss was enough to set my body aflame. It didn't even feel like my body anymore. That hunger, though, that desire to drain him. I'm using pretty words to describe it, but I knew the dark truth: if I stayed here with him a few moments longer, I would kill him. And he would let me.
"I really have to go."
"At least let me drive you-
"No!" The word came out too sharp, too desperate. "It's okay, it really is."
He looked dazed, his tie slightly askew, lips parted as if he wanted to say more. But I didn't wait to hear it.
The hallway outside felt far too long, but I hurried down it as fast as I could nonetheless, opting for the stairs instead of the elevator. My footsteps seemed to chase me as I hurried out, chest tight and mind reeling.
When I finally pushed through the building's glass doors, the night air hit me, cool, sharp, and way too real. I leaned against the wall, trembling, tasting him on my lips.
But that brief moment of relief was replaced by something else. A pang of intense hunger so sharp that I almost keeled over. I felt that sharp sensation tear deeper and deeper into my abdomen, leaving me breathless.
Abbadon's words ghosted through my head again, dark and certain: Succubi who don't eat, die.