"No..." I muttered, as I watched my thin fingers covered in crimson fluid. The blood isn't mine however, it became more obvious as I watched John sobbing, strapped on the chair in front with eyes widened fixtated on mine. A bitemark on the side of his neck, shirt torn off with bloodstains and countless of fresh scratches on his exposed skin.
I kneeled on the floor, knowing what I have done ,"Why..." I whispered under my breathe.

Complete silence, followed by clacking of high-heels  in a familiar rhythmn circling behind me like a shark following it's prey ,"You've done very well, dear," a voice spoke boldly ,"I am proud of you, really," I glared at her in protest, the beautiful woman with lustrous hair as red as the blood on my hand. Thick eyelashes, plump lips, she would've been one of the most attractive human on earth if it wasn't for her curved horns, bloody fangs, huge bat wings and spear-like devil tail.

I have known Ella for many more years before, but it's just few months ago that she began to open up and properly introduced herself. She is my guardian from hell, unknowingly I had made a pact with her and now I regret my descision.

My family doesn't have Bill Gate's money, but they had enough to buy me things that I want as long as it wasn't a provate jet, Lamborghini or anything ridiculously expensive. I may be one of those spoiled kids with a good life, but I don't always like the attention I am given. In fact, often I despise them.

Since the beginning I've always been diffeeebt from the other girls. Back in elementary while everyone was talking about Justin Bieber and One Direction, I was much more into Beyblade and playing with animals on the outdoors. I was outcasted because I didn't know how to dance like those sweet, strawberry-pink idols, I never liked wearing pink at the first place, especially skirts or dresses.

Speaking of skirts, my mother was fine with me exploring the wilderness with dad, however she established her own rules as well. She was a fashionista, I admit, but I hated growing up being her mannequin. I rather read my comic books or play video games, but often she drags me to the mall against my will. The rules are always the same: stay inside the store, look around for at least 1-2 hours, no screen time.

I alwasy hate this part of the weekend, I never fancy anything from Zara or H&M. I simply like to dress comfortable in t-shirts and jeans or shorts, I don't like to prep myself up pretty and sparkling like catwalk models. Mom would insist however, even after I told her I found no liking of any of these garments, and even if I do usually she would dismiss my choice for various reasons. I was always forced to go shopping yet mom almost never approves of my own choices, it pisses me off really, but on the bright side I could just pick some ugly cloth to piss her back and make her end the trip sooner.

My mom might be a stubborn fashionista, but she believes in woman power at least. Or so she said ironically. She is that type of feminist that thinks it is okay for women to hit men but not the other way around. She claimed too that women are supposed to be pretty and flirtatious so they could fool man into doing the hard works for them. A feminist that teaches her daughter to sell herself out to men, yes, they do exist.

At a certain point of my teenage years she would insist me to walk like a catwalk model, forcing the buns behind and boobs to the front, stabding up straight wasn't enough. She was also fussy when it comes to taking pctures with intricate instructions on how I should place my foot, tilt my head, etc. As I get older she would make me join make-up seminars and lectruing me on how to find the right guy, the rich ones more specifically. And really I don't want one.

As an introvert, the misunderstood minority of the earth's population I grew up getting bullied by both peers of my age and adults. Many times I got bullied by boys, contrary to the fact I was tomboyish. I do like guy friends, they are chill and less pretentious than fellow girls, but on the other hand many of the boys hated me just because I am a quiet freak. Because of this I grow up to believe that guys are either friends you can play and have a good talk with, or enemies that spites on your existence. There's no 'third category', the so called 'prince charming'.

I hated how I was told what I should and shouldn't do just because I am a girl, growing up I become more and more aware of how the society always acts like men are the hero of their household while a woman's greatest achievement is having beauty and bearing a child that their husband could show off to everyone. In short your hierarchy is determined by the fact if you have a sausage between your legs or not.

My misogynistic grandma especially is the reason I grew up to resent men even more, she always praised how beautiful I am, what flawless hourglass figure I have that I could easily get a rich man. I grew up being told around just because I am a girl, I want to have my own freedom when I grow up, I don't want to be stuck with a guy that'll tell me around until the day I die.

I understand when my parents say I should have more faith because they don't want me to be lonely, but my grandma insists that we as women are supposed to bow down to the males so they would take care of and give us money. I am sick if the stupid rules they given to me already, I rather be independent rather than putting myself in shackles just to get the easy way out. She treats me like a men trophy, a kind of offering for some rich guy out there. She always laughs and makes fun of my dreams, she just hates me being myself and was more forceful than my mom in being ladylike.
 
But as much as I resent men puberty eventually happens. My first love was a mythical boy in blue, I knew from the start that Kai isn't like any of those jerks I fear and hate. It all went smooth until one day I woke up with iron taste on my lips, I licked once more to make sure and wiped it with my hand which I extended in front if my eyes after. I knew it, red stains. But how?
 
My precious called out to me, with his ever familiar smile. But something was wrong, I noticed some bruises and a bitemark on his neck, was that a nosebless I see? I quickly connected the dots and tremored, fearing myself ,"I'I'm sorry , I-" Before I could finish a pair of warm arms wrapped me ,"It's alright, I know you didn't mean it. It can't be helped," He spoke gently. That didn't answer my question, what the hell happened? He never told me the answer.

That was not the first, or last time. When I move on to someone new the cycle repeats. Each new person I opened up my stone heart to, the depper the scars, the more blood I drawn and sucked out of their flesh, each new victims the blood tastes sweeter and sweeter than the last. I was hesitant at first, it is very wrong to hurt people. But something just keeps me going and I always fail to stop myself, eventually I give up and simply believe that it is my fate and that's how it's supposed to be.

I started to get the hint when I met Greg, a music and att genius that conquered his bitter past. Not just a pretty face on stage, but truly a hero and inspiration for a broken soul as I. I do respect and look up to him, bit on the other side the thirst was unbearable. I tried to hold back only to fail, the unknown force that took over me controls like a puppet master. Againts my will once again another victim fell, I drank up more blood than my stomach could hold.

After I calmed down for the first time that's when I saw her. A lady in strapless top and shorts, both pitch-black but reflects the dim light of my room. She was a bit taller than me, but how she was flapping her wing and gazing down made me feel quite intimidated ,"Calm down sweetie," she said ,"I am your friend Ella, remember?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, Ella... I never heard that name, she chuckled with her annoying high-pitched, sissy voice ,"Oho~ Forgive me I never introduced myself it seems. No need to thank me dear, it was a pleasure to assist you," "What on earth are you talking about?" "All of these years, the blood you, no, WE had consumed. I really owe you honestly, you made things easier for me."

My jaw dropped, whatever this thing is she had controlled me for years and I wasn't aware if it. I tried to dig more information out of her,"So you are uhh," "Succubus," she replied ,"But not the typical one that does the do with men," she let out a low growl ,"I despise them, but I enjoy when you lure them into our trap, especially when they are on all four like a stray dog begging for our mercy unlike the other way around how your kind does it. Such cute little toys," She said.
 
Slowly she descended from the air and sat on the bed right next to me as she crossed her legs elegantly ,"You have quite a taste, I have no regrets using you as my vessel," she smirked. Vessel? Does that mean I was posessed? I stared deeply at her with a disgusted look, she nodded as if she had read my mind ,"Don't worry I wouldn't ever get you into trouble. For a person who went through pain you're really nice, way too nice in fact. I know you wouldn't dare to punish anyone on your own, I did you the favor," she squished my cheek like a mother pampering her 5 year old, I could slightly feel her black, long nails grazing my skin. It didn't hurt much, but surely I was uncomfortable.

"I am done with your sick games!" I hollered with my shaky voice as I clenched my fists ,"Greg would be the last one, I swear," I gulped and turned away. My body shook, not from the creature beside me, but from the flashbacks if my past deeds playing in my head like a projector. No more, this is the last one. Ella frowned ,"Since when you've turned into a chicken?" She tormented ,"Where's the brave old Nicole I used to know?" "She is gone, and no she is not brave, she is a violent coward," Tears began flowing down my cheek as I looked down and closed my eyes thightly, replaying the scene of what I did to Greg just few hours ago.

"Don't worry, I'll bring her back," the creature stood up,"I know it's tough for a sweetheart like you, dear. But you wouldn't go anywhere if you keep forgiving the bad guys," she stroked my hair with a frown ,"Learn to accept it, they are the wolves. You either fight or get eaten," she wrapped me in her arms, I cried until I fell asleep.

Well, what about John? That's a story for another day.
 
#posession #succubus #hatred #restrain #rebel #revenge #guilt
 


© Skye Nicole