Demon Lover

Dear ladies of amiable virtue, before you seek to condemn this young woman for what has befallen, let us carefully observe the details as they unfold. Watching closely as she goes through the ritual of change that many young girls will witness in their arousal. Crawling off the bed, her nightdress unbuttoned she wearily grabs her small bag with it's contents and proceeds in hesitation towards the bathroom. The passage is dark and so she feels secluded from those that dare to judge what they cannot understand. Once inside she locks the door and stares at the image within the mirror.

She breaths a temporary sigh of relief, for knowing she has already been penetrated, and that in a reversal of fortune her stomach feels drained, No youthful existence will therefore flourish. For childhood dreams have never been born, And the embryonic existence she once knew has finally been crushed. She stares at herself as a woman, allowing her nightdress to fall. Whilst studying her milkened flesh that he has drunk from. Her breasts sag yet they will be renourished as the desire comes upon her. Yet as the dark clouds form and the Moon shines brightly, she knows it is time for the test to begin. In anticipation she reaches in for “The Book” the small torn and battered holy scripture that has guided her so well until now, yet maybe there is hope?

She watches as two thin lines of blood trickle from her neck and fall upon the blackened leather. She reaches out and attempts to brush them off with the slenderness of her fingers.

The pages burn, they turn blue, the flame shows the test is positive. Though she prays she has not been cast aside. And as the pages lay scattered in a heap of charred remains, she reaches in to the bag and knows there are two more tests to perform. The small bottle of holy water; Here fingers begin to unscrew the top, and as the water begins to trickle she allows it to break free of it's contents, causing her to scream, the burning sensation upon her neck, the steam that hisses as she drops the contents, watching as her water leaves a puddle over the bathroom floor, mixed with the blood to create a more darkened result.

If you seek to condemn in anticipation of the outcome, then dear ladies, may I announce they will fade along with the image within the mirror. No longer reflected of a long forgotten mortal existence, she stares at nothingness. Her innocence has left her, she tastes the soft blood stained upon her canine teeth. The arousal taken from her has begun to return, knowing that when she embraces, she will control the body in it's splendour, causing it to become rigid in fear and anticipation of the outcome. Uncleansed and unchaste she unlocks the bathroom door, clutching the marks on her neck in acceptance as she crawls along the corridor, until she reaches her bedroom and flings open the window. The cold air penetrates her warm body as she reels in shame at the chain and crucifix that now lay on the floor. She is distracted by the flapping of wings as if being called to a new existence.

And so dear ladies, she lays upon her bed, in acceptance of what she is, knowing that her Demon Lover will return

The End