Creed

12

SHADOW CREEPER

MARA

A s I enter my room, I notice the guild invitation lying on my bed. While walking towards it, I spot the empty plastic containers I bought to store my surplus of shoes. I pick up the invitation and a lid from the new containers, then make my way to the bathroom. Resting the two items next to it causes the candle on the vanity to flicker. I begin to think.

I can't consume this contract by eating it. My body would reject it, and I fear that would void the contract and block any chances of joining this guild. I consider adding it to a glass of wine. Regrettably, I don't have anything besides tap water here.

Peering into the fragmented mirror, a thought seeps in and a smirk plays on my lips.

I could use another pick me up. Maybe dessert to follow the main dish. While I can't thrive on self-gratification, I can still accept the contract and savor the experience of its consumption in a uniquely enjoyable way.

Picking up the invitation, I lift the candle to the corner and allow the flames to devour the page, setting it down on the cover once the flame licks my fingertips. Ashes rest in the container and I debate on how I want to use them. I unclasp the back of my dress, letting it fall to the floor and pile at my feet. Stepping out of it, I sit on the edge of the bathtub to release my feet from the shoes. Moving them to the side of the tub, I stand again and walk back to the vanity mirror.

I retrieve the oil from the cabinet. As I twist off the cap, I notice there's only enough remaining for one more application. Cupping my hand around the opening of the bottle, I pour in the ashes. Swirling the liquid and paper fragments until a thick grayish liquid remains.

Surely, this will be a unique way to accept the contract. However, I believe it's the suitable approach for a succubus. Taking a seat on the cushion of the rusting metal chair in the corner, I set the bottle on the floor next to me, extend my legs, spreading them a few feet apart, and I lean back and relax my body.

I close my eyes, lean my head back and picture a beautiful man undressing me, slowly. His lips trail down my shoulder softly, while his hand lovingly caresses my abdomen right above my mound. My fingers lightly trace the insides of my upper thighs and shivers dance up my spine. As I circle my clit with two fingers, my hips instinctively rotate, intensifying the sensation.

The man's form shifts, and I now see three figures standing before me. No faces can be seen, but bodies that have known years of hard work. Concealed by darkness, their hands caress me, evoking moans of pleasure. Goosebumps scatter across my skin and my pussy responds. Reaching for the bottle, I pour half of the liquid on the fingers that had abandoned my clit. Without thinking too hard about the contents, I thrust them into my dampening pussy. I work in the lubricating oil as far as I can before I pour the rest from the bottle and repeat.

I am aware that these men are not physically present, yet I can still feel the sensation of their rough hands against my sensitive skin. I hold my fingers inside my body, allowing my pussy to absorb the oil fully. I feel my breaths grow deeper as I start to stimulate myself with my thumb. Gyrating my hips, wishing these men were real and that they could fill me with their cocks, but I settle for my own teasing as I fall into the illusion of their hands and lips.

My fingers begin to twitch inside me, as I grip the side of the chair with my unused hand. My breasts feel heavy as one of my fabricated partners clamps his lips around one nipple and the other tickles the other. Without warning, an orgasm washes over me, strong and otherworldly. I cry out as I lean too far back and the chair tips over, leaving my ass and feet in the air. Frustrated with how my session ended, I just lay there, not pushing off the chair; my fingers still swallowed up by my pulsing pussy. I keep them there until I am sure no liquid will run out.

I must have gotten lost in my head for longer than I had planned. The candle on the sink had burned halfway and the shadows flickered wildly on the walls.

A draft? No, couldn't be. There are no windows open up here.

Grateful that the water was still hot, I step over the ledge of the tub and lower myself into the bath. I continue to descend until I'm fully underwater. I find comfort in the tranquility and warmth as my breath remains trapped in my lungs. I can find solace for a brief moment before needing to breathe again.

As I reach the final second without breathing, just as I was about to surface, I'm hit with a momentary pain in the center of my chest. I'm forced to resurface, coughing up the water that entered my throat as I break through the surface of the water and return to my reality. The ache goes away quickly, yet it serves as a constant reminder of a weakness I can't afford.

Samael's betrayal, introducing others into our bed and favoring them over me, fractured my heart. When he disregarded my concerns and ultimately disposed of me. When he chose to make me someone for others to use. It shattered me completely. And now the phantom pain surges off and on to remind me I cannot trust any emotion that involves the organ. In the end, it only ends with my pain. And it will continue to plague me from time to time until my time runs out.

My time for silence is over and I step from the tub. I feel the same involuntary shiver that has been caressing my skin for the last month or so. This house does a great job of keeping the heat, so it's not the air in the room. As my eyes start to focus in the dimming light, a blur manifests into an image and that's when I spot the intruder and before I can stop it, I begin to transform.

CREED

Somehow she managed to catch sight of me within the shadows. That's not possible. Only I possess the ability to pierce through the darkness. Who is this creature? This woman's influence could be making it increasingly challenging for me to mask my form.

Oh shit! She's shifting.

I back away as far as the wall will allow. Her demon self still leaves me stunned. How can a creature that looks more beast than woman be so majestic? In my eyes, she is still a captivating creature.

The pain of her transformation seems somewhat diminished due to its swift occurrence, leaving me unsure if she experiences it entirely. I can only confirm her pain by observing the arch of her back and the tension on her face. Although she only appears to experience a brief discomfort, I am intrigued by the metamorphosis. Although she experiences discomfort, it's brief and I'm unable to move as I watch the transformation. I'm intrigued as Mara's body shatters and remolds. Her legs contort as bones snap and joints shift. Her muscles quickly regenerate and heal, covered by a thick, dark gray fur, starting from her hips and extending down her legs. Imagine a mythical being, a mix of faun and satyr, possessing a tail containing small spikes at its base and ending in a pointed barb. A weapon designed for spearing her prey, if required.

Before I can even blink twice, she's making her way towards me and I immediately step back into the deepest shadows. I successfully steer clear of her sharp claws, allowing me to contemplate how to bring her back under control.

Quietly approaching her from behind, I enclose her in my embrace, preventing her arms from moving. A hoof smashes into my shin as Mara violently thrashes. I endure the pain and refuse to let her go. I can't risk it. She'll rip me to shreds.

"Stop, Mara, please. I'm not here to harm you," I say calmly in her ear. Her nails manage to nick my forearm close to my elbow. Blood trickles down my arm and oddly enough, she begins to calm.

As her body relaxes in my embrace, her breathing gradually slows down. Snowy white skin now covers her legs, while my arms are adorned with her flowing crimson hair as Mara resumes her human appearance. While her body shakes in my hold, she keeps her eyes shut as her breathing calms. I am now holding up a naked female. She possesses a strong sensual presence, and it stirs something within me.

"Typical male," she grumbles. "Sex is all you men desire. Who cares if the woman is unconscious."

I clear my throat and reply, "That's not true." Struggling to hide my embarrassment regarding my body's reaction.

Bad timing, Creed . I chastised myself.

Mara starts to straighten, my arms still holding her up. "Do you mind if I put some clothes on?"

"And just to clarify your earlier comment, you're not unconscious and I'm not taking advantage of you in any way," I say into her ear. "But, if you want me to act like these males you speak of I can."

"Why not? Don't shatter my image of the male species now." Despite being undeniably surprised by either my comment, my unexpected presence in her home, or both, she still musters a snarky comeback. "And I expect answers for my questions as well, especially how the hell you managed to get into my house and know what I am."

"Answer one question for me." I pause and she turns her face expecting me to continue, so I do. "If I let you go, will you allow me to speak without attacking?" My voice is low, but strong.

"Fine," she huffs.

My arms release their grip on her unexpectedly and she lands hard on her ass. I tense up, expecting her to strike back. But she stays true to her word. Rather than attacking, she moves to exit the bathroom. And even though she snarls at me as she passes, I nearly lose control of myself. Once my eyes land on Mara's nicely sculpted backside, I lose all ability to concentrate on anything else.

It was tight, yet the perfect amount for a good squeeze. The curves of her body flow gracefully as she approaches the mattress on the floor. As she picks up the robe, presumably left by one of her critters; the one I've heard her call Smoke most likely, I catch a more flattering glimpse of her perfectly curvy backside before quickly averting my gaze as she turns back towards me, covering her naked body with the fabric. Her seeing me drool over her breasts would only make our conversation more difficult. And highlight her assertion that men had one-track minds when it came to sex.

"So, how long have you been watching me?" Without any fear, she walks up to me until we are standing chest to chest. She looks into my eyes, as if the answer lies in the swirling flog.

"I'm gonna be totally honest with you, in hopes my truthfulness will make you listen to me," I reply, looking down at her. "We've been keeping an eye on you for a couple months now."

Stepping away, Mara stretches her neck to observe me from a better angle. She's analyzing every aspect of my body language, from my posture to my facial expression. She's uncertain about whether or not she should trust me.

"I'm curious. What's the motive for you watching me?" she asks, eyes not stopping their searching. Were you hired by someone? And did you enjoy the show?" I notice her attempt to conceal a smile, but I catch it before it vanishes. Mara backs away until her legs hit the bed and she sits. As she crosses one leg over the other, she waits for me to explain.

"We've been commanded by Samael to hunt you down and observe your movements." I jump right into the confession. "He is disappointed in you and in the path you have chosen. We've come to collect you."

"Collect me? Like I'm an object that's been purchased and wrapped for him." Mara's face drops, and now she looks angry. "The motherfucker didn't care about me all those years ago. Why does he want me back now?"

"He spoke of missing his favorite pet." I look down. Anger churning in my chest at the words coming out of my mouth. "He hasn't been the same since you slipped from his grasp."

"He's requested we watch you and report all of your comings and goings so he can learn your routine," I say in a gruff tone.

"Stalking me is probably a better description of your activities," she snarls. "Are you the reason for the goosebumps? Is the cold a clue to you lurking?"

"Not normally, but it seems you are more sensitive than most," I reply. Looking at her I see her studying eyes are glued to my face and her forehead is creased. "What is it you are looking at so hard?"

"Just wondering why a soldier of Samael's would have blue streaks in his hair?" She stands again and walks towards me. The robe parting just enough for her upper thigh to peek through. She reaches to the side of my face and grabs a thick lock of my hair. Running the pads of her fingers along the indigo strand. "I mean I assume you are one of his soldiers. He wouldn't trust just any Fallen to do this job."

I look between her dazzling eyes and her thin fingers. All of her is captivating. Every detail of every carved edge is perfectly crafted. I can see clearer now why Samael can not let her go. Why his need for her presence in his life is worth all this run around, even though he treated her so badly.

"You're very perceptive," I smile at her and she drops her hand, realizing she was showing me more of her emotions than she planned to. "Yes, we are part of his army, as we were in Heaven and now as we are in Hell. The reason for the blue is nothing special. Simple answer, it's my favorite color and goes well with my black hair. In the sun it reminds me of a raven's wings."

Not wanting to conjure feelings of anger over my missing wings, I clear my throat and stare her down. A frown continues to decorate her stunning face. She lifts her slender hand and places it on my bicep. The contrast of her pale skin against my tattoos is uniquely attractive to me and I turn to gaze back at her and that's when she blindsides me with a knee to the groin.

"Fuck!" I groan as my knees hit the floor and I grab my junk. "What the hell was that for? I thought we were getting along just fine." Every word is painful. The slightest move my body makes is agony. How can such a small mesmerizing creature cause so much pain?

"That's for watching me without permission," she replies through her clenched teeth. "You're lucky I didn't kill you for invading my privacy."

"We can't stay here if we are going to continue to speak to one another," I ground out. "Meet us in the church down the street tomorrow at noon. We can talk freely there."

"Comical," she chuckles. "Why a church? Do you feel your sins need forgiving? Changing sides? Thinking our father's going to accept you back with open arms?"

"No." I stand with some discomfort. "The church is one of the places Samael cannot control us. It is also a place demons find too difficult to enter, so if any of his lesser minions are hunting you, they won't enter."

"Okay, what's up with this "we" you keep referring to?" She quirks her brow.

"Three of us have come under Samael's command." I back away towards the shadows. The sun is beginning to rise and the shadows are beginning to disappear. "We can explain more at the church. Will you come?"

Mara turns and looks at the boarded up window. The cracks between the wood show the daylight creeping in. Without looking back at me she answers, "Fine, but you won't prevent me from leaving if I choose to."

I acknowledge her command with a nod and melt back in the shadows, before anymore can be said.