The Succubus In My Closet

Chapter 3: The Master And The Succubus

Erick pressed his shoulders flat against the drywall, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The glowing purple circle on the hardwood slowly lost its luminescence, fading into an inert, chalky ring. The room was suddenly plunged into dimness, illuminated only by the amber glow of the city streetlights filtering through the blinds.

And there she remained. Kneeling on his floor, her nakedness shielded by nothing but her long hair, the demoness kept her head bowed. Her lilac skin caught the amber streetlights with an almost iridescent sheen, and the spade-tipped tail behind her gave a faint, tentative twitch.

Erick stood paralyzed, regretting every choice that had led him to his current predicament. Eventually, he mustered the courage to move.

“Wait – don’t move,” he blurted out, his voice cracking. His eyes darted everywhere except directly at her. “Just... stay right there.”

He scrambled backward toward the hallway, practically tripping over the edge of the rolled-up carpet, and ducked into his bedroom. With trembling hands, he yanked open his closet door and grabbed the largest items he could find: a heavy fleece hoodie and a pair of gray drawstring sweatpants.

“Good heavens, what have I gotten myself into?” he whispered to himself.

When he returned to the living room, the woman had not moved an inch.

“Here,” he said, holding the clothes out at arm’s length like an offering to a wild animal. “Put these on. Please.”

The demoness lifted her head. Her golden slit pupils dilated slightly as she took the fabric from his hands. She stood up with effortless, fluid grace. Erick reflexively looked up at the ceiling, though it was impossible to ignore how tall she was – nearly reaching his chin – and the sheer perfection of her silhouette.

She fumbled clumsily with the hoodie, clearly unfamiliar with the tailoring.

“I do not know how to put these on,” she confessed timidly.

Erick stepped forward. He held the hoodie for her and guided the hem over her small horns, careful not to snag the delicate obsidian tips. She slipped her arms through and looked at her frame curiously. Erick held out the pants.

“Do you wish me to conceal my tail?” she asked.

“Yes please,” Erick said, trying his best to resist the urge to sate his curiosity. “It will keep you warm.”

“Thank you, Master,” she murmured, her voice vibrating with that same sweet, bell-like timbre. She donned the pants with relative ease.

The air between them was thick, almost syrupy, saturated with that intoxicating scent of burnt vanilla, crushed lilies, and warm honey. With every breath he drew, a heavy, hypnotic warmth pooled in his chest, making his thoughts sluggish and slow. His rational mind screamed at him to run out the front door, to call the police, to run before it was too late, but his body felt rooted to the floor.

“D-don’t call me Master,” Erick stammered, rubbing his temples to fight off the rising fog in his brain. “My name is Erick. What are you?”

“I am a succubus,” she replied with the same timid tone, folding her hands over the front of the oversized hoodie. Her golden eyes tracked every micro-expression on his face with rapt fascination. “I was drawn from the Nethers by the glow of your blood and the sincerity of your heart.”

Erick almost laughed. Sincerity.

“A succubus,” Erick repeated, the word sounding absurd on his own tongue. “And... do you have a name?”

She shook her head, a cascade of violet hair spilling over her shoulders. “I have no name. Where I come from, the low-born exist as unvalued spawn until summoned. You are the one who opened the gate for me, and because you are my first summoner, the right and the duty to name me belongs to you.”

Erick did not know if he was supposed to feel honored or terrified. He swallowed a dry lump in his throat.

“Okay. Okay, good. Let’s just call you... something simple. And then we figure out how to send you back. The Doctor didn’t mention this. There was some kind of mistake, I’m sure.”

“I cannot go back,” she said softly, stepping closer.

The distance between them shrank to a mere foot. The sweet musk flared, hitting Erick with the intensity of an open flame. His pulse spiked.

“Why not?” he whispered, his throat suddenly dry.

“I have to fulfill the purpose you summoned me for first,” she explained, looking up at him through thick, dark eyelashes. Her fangs peeked over her lower lip, glinting in the low light. “You have not claimed me yet.”

Erick blinked, trying to cut through the heavy haze clouding his judgment. “Claim? I… How? Don’t you want to return home?”

The succubus looked at Erick with something that resembled desire.

“I wish to serve the master who summoned me,” she said.

Her lilac hand reached out, delicate claws resting lightly over his racing heart. Her touch was warm, radiating a soothing heat that seeped directly through his shirt into his skin.

“And to serve you,” she continued, “my flesh must be bonded to yours.”

Erick froze. The reality of her words crashed through his bewildered mind.

She wants me to sleep with her…