Succubus

“I assure you I am not ‘everyone’ and I am more than familiar with such abilities and many others. However, I can also sense you’re not the only entity in that body of yours, just as I am not the only one inhabiting my own.” She was of course referring to the Basilisk, one of the deadliest demons in existence. It had tried to possess her, but her will won out and it now served her.

Martin hugged the adjacent wall, scared of the sight. “What do you mean, meal?” he croaked. 

“It is really very sad if you can’t put the pieces together.” She reached down and picked up the withered corpse, holding it up to show the other. “That beautiful little butterfly I just consumed was this poor sap’s soul.”

She held the glasses up to her mouth and breathed on each lens, a purple mist fogging up the glass as it flowed out of her mouth. Handing them back as they cleared up, she winked. “That should help with locating your prey. The symbols vampires use to mark their territory and people are ancient, and even if drawn, printed, or produced by modern means, the symbols themselves still have an innate mystical energy. With those glasses, you should now be able to see them not matter how they try to conceal them. Say they use paint that can only be seen with special goggles or something similar, you’ll be able to see them glowing plain as day, whether on a person, a building, a vehicle. Oh and that includes even if it’s hidden under clothing or tattooed/marked inside an orifice, my own mother had symbols in her womb to mark her as one to bring forth demon children so it is a viable strategy to consider them using.”

“Boredom, mild hunger, the simple fact that I could.” She said with a shrug as she wiped the dust from her hands. “Vampire souls taste ghastly, but souls are souls and either way they make me more powerful, so who am I to complain?” A slow smile spread across her face and she walked forward, standing in front of him. Holding her hand out, she eyed his sunglasses. “Mind if I take a look at those? I assure you it will be to your benefit.”

“Clearly.” She said with a light smirk. Muttering a small incantation, a purple mist began to fill the room, seeming to originate from her. “This is a healing mist, just breath normally and the pain should begin to subside.” The succubus somehow made simply the act of sitting down seeming almost overly sexual as she lowered herself into a nearby chair. “I suppose introductions are in order, so I’ll go first. I am Satana Hellstrom, a succubus and the daughter of Satan.” It was always amusing for her to see the various reactions to that particular revelation. She always enjoyed seeing the various reactions of those she told this to, both that she was the daughter of Satan and that she was a sex demon. It told her much about what kind of person they were and usually determined whether or not she consumed their soul or not.

She thought about the other female’s words for a few long moments before speaking. “I suppose evil is a matter of perspective. My father rules over Hell and one day I will destroy him and take his throne, but I also have no wish to destroy this world. I survive and thrive on the very essence of others, yet it is not by choice, it is my nature and I would perish otherwise. I have no qualms about killing when I find it necessary or appropriate, and my kiss is not always a thing to be feared but is also desired for the potential pleasure it can bring. Some might even say that if they were to choose how they might die, the kiss of a succubus would be a preferable way to do so, though it would further naivety on your part to believe that all of my victims are willing. And I assume that using my magic to make them more compliant would not satisfy your definition of ‘agreement’.” It was always interesting to speak with ‘heroes’ because she took pride in her demonic heritage and did consider herself to be evil on a certain level. But she had also saved the world on more than one occasion, though not always out of the goodness of her heart. She refused to be defined by anyone else’s standards and walked her own path.

Satana smiled as she moved in closer. “Oh I have powers, I was raised in Hell, the afterlife of eternal torment for this world, and taught magic by demons and my father who rules it. But as a succubus my natural abilities are...sexually based, and the act of kissing does not involve ‘communicating’ in the same sense that your race does. Any who are fortunate enough to spent a night with me would consider themselves blessed and my kiss alone can bring great pleasure. But I can also infuse my lips with magic and use the contact as a means of casting a spell on someone, whether to harm or simply control them. But the natural ability they hold is to draw out the soul from one’s body so that I may consume it. I am sustained by souls and my power increases with each one I devour. Have no fear though, I am not currently hungry and have no intention of harming you.”

“Ah –” Jesus, that was one way to wear an outfit. And while she’d hardly define the other woman as CLOTHED – well. To each their own, she supposed. “N – I’m just … I’m no one.” A story she’d stick by, despite having been told otherwise over, and over, and over again. “Sorry, who are you?”

“It has other uses as well, though admittedly those uses are sometimes specific to certain people or beings.” Satana said as she appeared out of a mist that was a rather pleasant shade of purple and was not present moments before. “And I assure you, you have no concept of the ‘affection’ a kiss can hold until you have experienced it from one such as myself.”