From A to H
I
“You know it.”
Her entrance was nothing short of spellbinding. Every movement flowed languid and full of grace, every step tread as lightly as though she walked on air. Glossy brown hair hung low around her subtly swaying hips. The only sound as she moved – the brushing of denim against the floor.
Amber was provocative. Her clothes, her form, her mannerisms were all calculated and deliberate to draw as many looks as possible.
Hip just was, and attention followed. A woman with nothing to prove, one with the world around her, dripping with unnaturally natural allure. She was at home in the classroom, as if she’d been in it a thousand times – as if the school itself had been built around her.
She looked over the class with an unreadable gaze. Beside her, the door creaked shut. She raised a hand with three fingers raised, mouthed a countdown. Two. One. Zero.
White noise blasted through every crowded hallway, classroom, and staffroom. It slowly faded, and a voice sounded.
“This is the Principal. There has been an emergency. All staff and students are to evacuate immediately.”
His words spoke of danger, his tone didn’t. Even distorted by the speakers, it was calm and distracted. Lovestruck, even.
Hip smiled. Amber sat on the desk, legs suggestively crossed. They both beamed, enjoying the moment. Aperitifs are to be savored.
Glen was the first to move. The same awe and fear that glued the others to their chairs compelled him to run. In his way stood the new girl, this ‘Hip’. He looked her in the eyes, steeled himself, and moved.
His first step was determined. His second, heavy. His third, trembling.
Hip glanced at him. That ambiguous smile of hers made a return. She raised an eyebrow, and Glen felt his will to escape slowly fade away. She raised a finger. His fourth step was his last.
The finger waved. “Not you. You’re the lucky ones.”
He stared blankly at her. His cheeks were red, his pupils wide. He couldn’t bring himself to move; being still felt comfortable. It felt right.
The stampede outside was as deafening as it was short-lived. The rumbling went on even after the voices had faded away; it was then that Glen realized some of the noise was not coming from the hallways.
Hip’s delicate fingers spread gently over her stomach. Her smile was a knowing one.
“Come on,” she said, “they aren’t as bad. ‘A sad bunch’, really? A few of them look keen enough.”
Glen blinked, perplexed. His mouth hung open, but his brain couldn’t formulate an answer. Before he had a chance to reply, a familiar voice sounded from behind him. At this point, Amber’s mere voice was enough to make him shiver.
“A bunch of sad sacks, is what I said,” Amber corrected her friend. “And trust me, they are. There wasn’t a single second I didn’t feel like I was going to snap and reenact Salem on their sorry asses.”
“Well, I for one am glad you decided to share.”
The few remaining students were beginning to stiffen on their seats. It was surreal. The conversation between Amber and the new girl was bizarre, but the underlying threat was undeniable. If anything, how casual the two were while discussing these nebulous and sinister-sounding affairs made it all the more chilling.
A loud clap snapped them all to attention. Amber tilted her head to the side, surprised. “Huh. If Ricky-boy had known this one, we wouldn’t be so behind in the syllabus.”
“Alright, boys and girls,” Amber said. “Looks like we have the entire building for ourselves today, so let’s kill the time with a game. It’s called ‘don’t die’. The rules are simple. Anyone care to guess?”
She steepled her fingers and leaned forward, looking over her borrowed glasses at the very pale, very sweaty students before her. “Come on, now, it’s not that difficult.” She paused for a few seconds, enjoying the silence only broken by heavy, staggered breaths.
Glen winced; Hip’s hands weighed on his shoulders. Her touch was warm and soft, even against his greasy skin. A gentle nudge had his limp body rotate to face the ‘teacher’. Hip took his hand and lifted it above his head; when she let go, it stayed.
Amber grinned. “Ah, yes, Mr. Stupid asshole?”
“T-this isn’t funny. W-where’s M-Mr. Morrison?”
She listened intently, nodding to the rhythm of his stuttering. The two locked eyes. Amber smiled.
Her fist suddenly banged on the table. The loud noise echoed through the silent room. “Wrong!” Her voice boomed. “God, Glen, you’re not worth the meat you’re printed on!”
He had no time to gasp. Before he could think, the gentle touch that had guided him to where he was had turned to a grip. An arm locked around his neck; his left hand was held behind his back. Lips brushed softly around his ear in a mocking whisper. “It was ‘don’t die’. Sorry, Glen.”
Amber hopped onto the floor, arms stretching as she closed the distance. It would have been easy to mesmerize such a simple mind. A glance, a smile, and he would have surrendered. She could have had him begging to plunge down her throat. Alas, a statement needed to be made. She wanted Glen to fear.
Once the two were eye to eye, Amber pinched his flushed cheeks. Her painted fingernails dug into his skin; annoying at first, soon to be painful. She hummed in satisfaction as his nose scrunched up, his eyes squinted, and his lips thinned; she gave the flabby cheek two congratulatory pats and smirked.
Hip’s grip moved down from Glen’s neck to his waist. She lifted him with ease, and soon the legs that had been so firmly planted on the floor were kicking at the air. Amber thanked her with a nod and, to the class’s horror, opened wide.
Gasps turned to shrieks. A student’s head slammed down on her desk, and there she remained, unconscious. Another covered her mouth with her hands and retched.
Hip rolled her eyes. “So melodramatic.” She hefted his waist over her right shoulder, huffing – then got on the tips of her toes.
It happened very slowly, and each gruesome second of it was for the class to enjoy. Gravity and Hip’s weakening grip did all the work; Amber needed only to wait and be fed. The first few inches provided a welcome reprieve from his whimpering; for Glen, it was all downhill from there.
The class straddled the line between terror and full-fledged panic. Some tried to look away, others watched with morbid awe. Perhaps a few of them even enjoyed it. There was something erotic to it, after all – the look of utter satisfaction on Amber’s eyes, the way her flat stomach bulged out with each swallow, the way her tongue danced over skin and clothes alike. The wet squelches and gulps, the sharp inhalations, the swaying and slithering of a body in bliss – they all spoke of a pleasure deeper than that of simple consumption.
The display was cut short. Hip finally lost her grip on the wriggling legs, and they vanished, as did the feet. Glen was gone.
To say the class was in shock would be an understatement; it more closely resembled the ending to Macbeth. Notably, that one guy – the one Amber had often seen chatting with Glen and stinking up the place – had slipped from his desk and now sat on the ground, his flabby arms hugging his just as flabby knees.
Amber patted the stretched skin of her gut; a powerful kick from within followed, but her smile only broadened. “Ah, so close! Once more, with feeling, and you might just be able to get out.”
Beautiful brown eyes turned to the class. A conspiratorial wink and a headshake confirmed what was already suspected. Perhaps Glen was figuring it out too; his second kick was as easily withstood as the first one.
Again she looked over her glasses. Again did her sudden clap snap the group out of their stupor. “Come on, have I been teaching you this badly? Surely, one of you morons will have some idea. You! Whats-her-name with the horrible tacky purse.”
The girl that had been retching slumped over her table, hands on her mouth. Her short black hair, made messy by the fingers that ran up and down it in helpless desperation, gleamed with sweat. Her sunken eyes, usually so full of energy and determination, looked around. Her purse laid on her table, bright yellow and made of gabardine. She steadied herself, balling her firsts and straightening her posture; finally, she scowled.
“Vicky.”
The siren rolled her eyes. “I didn’t ask for your name. Can you answer my question? What…” She stopped herself short, blinking, confused.
Hip sighed, the hint of a smirk in the corner of her lips. “You were asking them about the rules of the game, Amber. And wasting time.”
In a blink, Amber’s poor impression of Mr. Morrison returned, and she wagged a finger at her friend. “That’s Miss Adams to you! But yes, thank you, Miss Hugger. You get extra credit.”
“Joy.”
“Tacky Purse Girl! I’m waiting.”
Vicky jumped to her feet; behind her, the chair slammed hard into the ground. The loud clapping sound sent a wince through all the students; even the one who had passed out was snapped out of her slumber, and now rubbed her eyes. She stared down the monster, trying her best to ignore the wriggling belly she sported. Though her muscles were petrified, she forced herself to move, walking around the empty tables to rest a sweaty but firm hand on the girl that had fainted.
“You okay, Melissa?”
She got no answer but a whimper and a frightened nod. Only then did she turn to the creature she knew as Amber.
“The rules are ‘don’t die’. And I plan to do just that.”
An appreciative whistle broke the tension. All eyes turned to Hip, who clapped. “I like that one,” she said. “I call dibs on her.”
“With that cheap deodorant stink? You can keep her,” Amber chuckled. “Anyway, congratulations, Tacky, you’re correct! And to make it fair, I won’t even hypnotize any of you. See how nice your new teacher is?”
Hip’s serene voice sounded once more, a mere whisper compared to Amber’s bombastic performance. “If what happened to him,” she pointed at Amber’s stomach, “happens to you, you lose.”
Amber hopped onto the desk again; this time it creaked under her weight. “Alright, students, let’s play nice and have a good time. Hip?”
Hip stepped away from the door. She bowed low, gesturing towards it in a ‘right this way, sir’ kind of way.
“Thank you,” Amber nodded, before turning to the class again. “Now, me and my friend are going to count to fifty, so off you go. One, two, five, ten…”
Amber leaned back and watched the chaos ensue. Vicky was the first to run; those long legs weren’t just for show, it seemed. She disappeared out the door without sparing a thought for her friends, not even the one she had made a show out of helping.
The rest soon followed. Never had any of the girls run half as fast as this during gym class. Ashley, Steph, and Melissa all rushed in the same direction.
“Twenty-five, thirty…”
The exodus over, only one of the students remained. Scott – Glen’s friend – curled up in a ball in the middle of the floor. Tears and mucus mixed as they ran down his face. His eyes were wide open, glazed over and staring blankly through the table legs and Amber’s legs and at the wall.
The siren stepped closer. “Thirty-five, forty, forty-five…”
She prodded his back with the tip of her Chuck. “Forty-eight, forty-nine, forty-nine and a half…” Lowered herself onto her knees and whispered in his ear, “Fifty-seven, eighty-two, twelve… fifty.”
His trembling eyes met hers. There was no wish to escape in his distant stare. No will to live. No fun.
“I’ll come back for you later,” she sighed, defeated. “Please, at least try to give me a fun chase?” She pressed a small kiss to his cheek. Her tongue ran over her lips; the sweet saltiness of tears never got old.
When she passed by her friend, Amber looked her over. Hip was upside-down, arms folded behind her head, her body pointing upwards like an arrow. Her eyes were closed; her expression, peaceful.
Amber rolled her eyes. She nudged the showoff, hoping to disrupt the asana being performed – but to her dismay, Hip simply went along with gravity’s pull, allowing it to give her the necessary impetus to bounce back on her feet.
“Done so fast?” she asked with a flourish.
Amber shrugged. “That one’s no fun. Besides, I need a break from the taste of snot and pissed pants.” She slapped her stomach; for the first time, her prey didn’t push back.
“Ugh. Are you trying to kill my appetite?”
A second of silence passed. Then, the two burst into laughter.
_______________________________________________________
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…”
Vicky slammed her body against the locked door for what left like the hundredth time. The rusty metal creaked. She was making progress, but much too slowly. Her bruised muscles were only now beginning to hurt. They’d almost certainly be sore as hell come morning.
Morning would come.
She over her shoulder, wiping the sweat from her forehead. A peal of warped laughter echoed through the hallways, and Vicky grasped at her throbbing heart.
“Fuck…”
_______________________________________________________
Steph didn’t even bother looking over her shoulder. The pained pants and gasps of her friends were all she needed to know. Her own words barely made it through the wheezing. “Are you sure about this, Melissa?”
“Yeah,” Melissa lied. “They wouldn’t have had time to lock it up if it was an emergency.”
“Emergency?” Ashley protested, struggling to run in her long skirt. The shortest of the three was also the most incensed. “That was them covering their asses!”
“The staff,” Melissa paused for breath, “t-the staff didn’t know that. Security procedures.”
“Leave it to Melissa to memorize the freaking security procedures,” Steph laughed. It was a bitter laugh. “To the cafeteria, then. If it bleeds...”
The timely laughter that echoed through the school seemed to mock even their dim hope.
_______________________________________________________
“H-hi.”
Amber twirled around. Hip did too. One movement was excessive and exhibitionistic; the other, elegant and precise.
There stood Rebecca with her hands in her pockets, awkwardly shifting her weight - trying and failing to smile. She raised a hand, wiggling her fingers in a wave.
Amber saw her succubus friend get that look in her eyes. At the first sign of a hastened pace, she placed her hand on Hip’s shoulder.
“Not this one,” Amber said. Faced with Hip’s bewildered look, she just shrugged apologetically.
Under the hungry glare, Rebecca had shrunk away. With the risk gone, the shrinking violet finally bloomed again. “I heard it in the Principal’s voice. There’s no emergency, is there?”
“Oh, there is. Just not the kind people think.”
Becky nodded slightly. “Should I have gone with them?”
Amber folded her hands over her increasingly small stomach. “Did you want to go with them?”
“I guess not.”
“There you go.”
“Amber?”
“Yes, Becky?”
“I saw them heading for the cafeteria.”
The siren clapped her hands together, shooting Hip one of those ‘I told you so’ looks. “Thanks, Becky. You’re a sweetheart.”
A hint of red colored Rebecca’s features. “And Amber?”
The siren stifled a sigh. “Yes, Becky?”
“Can I go with you two?”
“Hip?”
“As long as she doesn’t get in the way.”
“As long as you don’t get in the way, Becky. Now come on, the trail is getting cold.”
Siren and succubus continued down the hallway, now with a goal in mind. With them walked Rebecca, with their hands intertwined on the small of her back and her head trapped between their bouncing breasts.
Her features were lit up by a bright and starstruck smile.
_______________________________________________________
“Come on, come on, come on!” Sweat ran down Melissa’s features as she paced back and forth, her phone pressed to her cheek. “Pick up, damn it.”
“What’s going on? Why aren’t they answering?” Steph asked as she opened yet another drawer. Seeing the gleam of polished metal within, she clapped her hands together. “Girls, we’ve got knives! How’s the water going?”
“Same as it was five seconds ago, when you first asked,” Ashley grumbled, flicking a strand of brown hair from her face. “This is a horrible idea. We can’t stop that… thing. We should just run.”
“Run where!?” yelled Steph. “Do you really want to get out in the open with those two freaks prowling around?”
“Please, can you two shut up?!” Melissa’s pacing got more and more uneven the more worked up she got. Her glasses fogged up; her sweaty fingers struggled to keep their grip on the phone. “Hello? Hello, 911? Oh, thank God… listen. We’re in… hello? Hello, can you hear us?”
The room begrudgingly went silent. Steph finished setting up a broad array of sharp kitchen implements on the chopping board; Ashley dragged another trash bag to the barricade they’d set up. Everyone hung on Melissa’s words; the stress only made her stutter more.
“Yes, h-hello, we’re in the… yeah, the- yes, the one that evacuated. N-no, no fire, just – hello? Hello?”
A fist slammed down on the chopping board, causing several sharp blades to bounce worryingly. “Oh, fuck’s sake, Melissa, just tell them!”
“They won’t believe us! Let me j-just figure out…”
“Enough, give me that!”
Steph stomped towards Melissa, who winced away. She reached for the phone; instinctively, Melissa held it away from her. Sweaty fingers slipped over the plastic casing… and both girls gasped in horror as the phone spun towards the ground and shattered.
The trio stood silent; Melissa and Steph frozen mid-fight, Ashley covering her mouth in shock. The air had gone cold and still; their only hope was lost.
“No…”
“Look at what you’ve done, Melissa!” Steph cried; though her tone was accusatory, her voice seemed as if it would crack at any moment.
“M-me? I just… just…”
“Come on, do something! Ashley! You have your phone on you, right? Please tell me you didn’t leave it behind too.”
Ashley offered no answer save for a grim headshake.
“Fuck!” Steph cried; finally stepping away from Melissa, she glanced furiously around the room, as if she expected to find a direct line to the police hidden in the dishwasher, or the sink. “What the fuck do we do now? Melissa, come on, think!”
“I’m trying, I’m trying! I can’t think with the… with the shrieking! Okay, okay. There has to be a way to go about this. We can wait here until they come for us – when they do, we take whichever exit they left unguarded. We run for the gates. We get the cops...”
“Well, I’m not doing any of this unarmed,” Steph announced, picking up the nastiest-looking butcher’s knife on the pile. She tested its weight and balance in her hand, then nodded. “How’s the water, Ashley?”
Ashley looked down at the clear liquid that bubbled in the pot. “It’s starting to boil.”
“There we go! The first bitch that makes it through this door is going to get a face full of-”
Knuckles rapped mockingly against the wooden door; so innocuous a sound, yet still enough to kill Steph’s bravado in one fell swoop. The three looked at the door, instinctively gathering into a circle – Ashley with her pot of boiling water, Steph with her knife, and Melissa with her fogged-up glasses.
A familiar silhouette materialized from the frosted glass. “Yoo-hoo! Sounds like you're having a party in there. How come I wasn’t invited?”
A round shape pressed to the glass; it took the three a moment to realize what it was. Amber’s stomach, minutes ago filled to the brim with their friend, had become not only much smaller but more malleable, too – its contents were either gone or lacked a solid shape. It was hard to tell which outcome was the most chilling.
_______________________________________________________
Manicured nails scratched at the peeling bark. Rubber soles struggled to gain purchase on the smooth surface. Vicky’s muscles bulged; her teeth dug into her lower lip.
She had remembered the old olive tree as a stairway to freedom; its curling branches intertwined with the fence’s metal posts and engulfing their bladed ends. She found it a slippery, precarious mess, old and rotten, full of crevices and loose limbs ready to cut an escape attempt short. Even if she managed to surmount it, dodging the sharp edges in the process, she would have to jump over the fence and onto the open field beyond – a sizable drop.
It still failed to make Vicky hesitate.
Her friends would hopefully keep the two abominations busy. For that, she thanked them. Years of therapy were preferable to a gruesome death, just as her survival was preferable to theirs.
_______________________________________________________
A resounding slap brought Steph to her senses. She gasped, stepping away from the door.
The last thing she remembered was pointing the knife at the form behind the frosted glass. Saying… something, she didn’t recall the details. Then, there had been blinking – and now, when her eyes opened again, she stood inches from the softly whispering silhouette. Her knife laid on the floor, several steps away; a trash bag weighed heavy on her hands. Her cheek was burning.
Melissa kneeled on the floor amongst the remains of her phone, screaming nonsense, covering her ears.
“Put it back, put it back now!” Ashley’s voice was shrill.
“I heard that…”
The figure dematerialized from the frosted glass, replaced by a fuzzy shadow. A round shape swung; crack. As the door flew from its hinges, high-pitched laughter filled the room.
“Would you look at that! Glen ended up not being completely useless after all!”
The red blur of a Chuck kicked the collapsed door aside, ejecting it across the room with surprising force. Amber stepped in, each step a display so shameless as to be obscene – and none of her voluptuous features more distressing than the sloshing gut that shrunk as she approached.
With her came the other – the brown-haired one. The one they knew nothing about.
In the chaos, the three girls scrambled to grab their weapons; their knives, the boiling water. They formed a circle in the middle of the room, with nothing but a wooden counter separating them from the interlopers.
Melissa closed her eyes. Her entire body trembled. White fingers wrapped loosely around the handle of a chef knife. She opened them again, her glare turning steely when she turned it towards Amber, the fear inside her bubbling into fury when a kiss was blown her way.
Something clicked, deep down – her eternally slouched body straightened up, and the world around her seemed so much smaller. So much more manageable.
Her voice sounded with a vigor she had never thought possible. “Stay back, I’ve got this!”
The world blurred as she moved forward, the handle of her weapon fitting in her hand with newfound purpose. She smiled as she watched the two abominations – once so terrifying – wince away from the sharp edge as she swung it. She advanced, and they stepped back.
The brown-haired one struck first. She was fast, much too fast to follow. Melissa met her advance; a blink, and she was looking down the hippie’s back – and, from a growing pool of red, the tip of her knife emerged.
Amber was second. Again, unlikely odds favored Melissa still. A wide swing caught the siren’s throat; another body stumbled lifeless onto the floor. Blood rushed to Melissa’s head. Her body trembled with adrenaline. She stood triumphant between the two interlopers; it had been that easy.
She turned to her friends. “Steph, call the police.”
Steph nodded, slid a hand into her pocket and produced a black smartphone. Within seconds, the sound of sirens in the distance could be heard.
“Let’s go home.”
Melissa stepped out of the pool of blood and guided her two friends to the gates. Men in uniforms awaited them in the parking lots; Melissa ignored them. Her feet carried her home almost on autopilot, leaving bloody footprints on the asphalt.
The door to her home laid open. She walked down the hallway and turned to the right. She stepped into her bedroom, took a deep breath – and collapsed on the sheets. Far away, someone called her name, but she ignored them. All could wait until tomorrow.
She slid under the duvet; as its softness rubbed against her skin, she felt all tension leave her. The fabric crept over her form, surrounding her from all sides. Melissa sighed wistfully, wriggling further into the inviting warmth; it was almost too good to be true. As the light faded, so did the adrenaline that coursed through her veins.
Warm. Snug. Humid.
Tight. Coarse.
Itchy. Sweltering. Sticky.
Burning.
Burning?
“EEK!”
Rebecca stood under the doorway, watching the chaos ensue. Her hands rested over her mouth; though her body language spoke of shock and horror, her eyes glimmered with morbid fascination.
She had heard it happen before. A cacophony of wet sounds, of struggles and groans and gulps; her mind had filled in all the details. Nothing Rebecca could have imagined compared to what it actually was like.
She had seen Melissa drop her weapon. She had heard her mumbling gibberish to herself as she stumbled forward into Amber’s arms. She had even witnessed Melissa, with a rivulet of saliva running down her chin and a look of utter bliss on her bespectacled face, ease herself into Amber’s open maw.
The siren had been happy to accept Melissa’s offering, but not before plucking the glasses from her nose. She examined the floppy wire-framed spectacles for but a moment, frowning at whatever bitter memories it roused – and crushed them effortlessly in her hand.
Rebecca would never forget the first time she saw Amber eat someone. The sounds, the smells. The goosebumps on her skin as she watched those glossy lips slide over hair and skin alike. The sight of Melissa’s body steadily disappearing. And the gulping, oh, the gulping… each resonant contraction of Amber’s throat muscles shook Rebecca to the core, made her heart flutter and her skin go fuzzy.
And finally, the muffled scream, the last time anyone would ever hear Melissa’s voice – punctuating the end of consumption and marking the beginning of digestion.
Amber turned to Rebecca; it caught her by surprise, and for the first time, their eyes met. A shiver ran down the girl’s spine… but nothing changed. There was no insidious dark magic at work; just a pair of very beautiful brown eyes, and what might have just been Rebecca’s first girl crush.
Just as quickly as it formed, the link was broken; with eyes so intense, it was a surprise Rebecca had lasted this long. Her attention was fully on the siren still, of course – but now she stared in awe at the wriggling belly. Each exhalation made the round surface contract slightly, while inhalations merely had it maintain its size and shape. The stomach’s rhythmic shrinking, the increasing amorphousness of the body within, and the sharp silencing of Melissa’s voice – to Rebecca, nothing could have been more fascinating. Or titillating.
“Hey! My tits are up here.”
Rebecca’s brow furrowed; she blinked in confusion at Amber’s words. The realization came slowly; when it finally arrived, she buried her face in her hands, ashamed. Of course, the siren just chuckled.
Steph and Ashley had been quite silent. No knives had been swung, and the pot of boiling water, the great deterrent that it was, was by now lukewarm at best. And all over the floor.
Hip just stood there, relaxed, her eyes closed and a mischievous smile on her lips. She didn’t move; she didn’t need to. While Amber ate and digested, Hip simply existed. Her magnetism was as insidious as it was irresistible; goosebumps, a shiver, a stolen glance, a step taken without thinking.
The bait was set; they bit. Like moths to a flame, the two girls approached. Steph was the first; mouth agape, she pressed her body to that of the succubus. An arm hugged her hips; a hand guided her head onto a shoulder to rest. She had been accepted.
Ashley tried to get close, to push her friend away from Hip’s grip, to go in for a kiss – but her lips touched only the palm of a hand. The gentle push that followed sent her stumbling back; Hip’s decision had been made. As the body crumbled to the ground, so did the mind clear.
A wave of pain came over Ashley’s body. Everything was sore. Mind, body, and soul alike had been pushed to their limits. Slow and trembling movements dragged her body across the tiled floor, wading through the mess of phone parts, spilled water and shattered plates. A chair’s leg offered her enough support to stand on her own feet.
This was her chance.
Amber was distracted, sitting cross-legged on the counter watching her mysterious friend have her way with Steph. This was it – Ashley’s chance to escape.
She moved quickly, careful to not make a sound. She passed Amber, then Hip and Steph – and she offered her friend one final apologetic glance. She approached the door – and found herself face to face with someone she knew all too well.
“Becky?!” she whispered, alarmed.
The goth girl reluctantly looked away from Hip, resting on Ashley’s unkept form.
“Let’s get out of here, Becky. Come on.”
Rebecca’s voice was stone cold, albeit low and gentle. “Hey, Stephanie. I didn’t expect you to remember my name. You haven’t used it in a long time.”
“What the… Becky, are you insane?! We need to get out of here. This isn’t the time for – look at what they’re doing!”
“I know.” A big sigh. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Is this some kind of joke? Look, I know we haven’t talked in a while… I’ve been busy, okay? Now stop this madness, come on, please! They’ll kill me.”
“I know,” Rebecca repeated. “It’s okay, I’m not mad at you. You moved on with your life and made new friends, so there was no need for Becky anymore. I made new friends, too – but it looks like my friends are eating your friends…”
Ashley huffed; where words failed her, sheer physicality would have to do. Just as the hippie had pushed her aside like a misfit toy, so did she force Rebecca to stand aside with a sudden shove.
She ran as she had never run before. As her steps echoed through the deserted hallway, she thanked Melissa under her breath. She may not have liked the girl, but she had to admit her plan had worked.
Next stop, the back gate. Her ticket to freedom.
Back in the kitchen, Hip ran her finger over the distended skin of her middle. Something inside wriggled and moaned, whether it was pleasure or pain, only the succubus could tell – and, as usual, she wasn’t sharing.
She was the first to break the silence. She smiled, pointing a finger at Amber’s flat stomach. “You’re not getting any points for that one, by the way. I thought you had said there would be no brainwashing.”
“I swear, she just walked right into me of her own volition!”
“Sure.”
“Besides, if it counts, so does your… well, everything.” Amber cracked her knuckles and got on her feet. “There. That’s settled. Now, can you babysit Becky here for a while?”
“If she’s not a lot of trouble, sure. Why?”
“I have a date.”
Hip smiled knowingly. After dismissing her friend with a wave and watching her leave, she was more than happy to turn her attention to Steph. The poor girl fawned over her seductive mistress like a wide-eyed puppy. Her skin, flushed red with desire, was frissoned and warm to the touch. And she wheezed – she wheezed with a need so deep, so desperate, so all-consuming that it hurt. Steph’s hands, tender with sweat, hovered over Hip’s body, both unable to resist its allure and not daring to touch such a sublime thing. They found a poor replacement in her own body, sliding over the sticky fabric to bring some faint pleasure to her haggard form.
Hip ignored her even as the breaths became moans – even as the fingers slid under fabric. None of this interested the secretive seductress, who looked past it, and whose eyes rested on Rebecca. Having caught the goth girl’s attention, Hip winked. Her arm hooked around Steph’s neck, pulling her hungry lips in for a kiss. Her victim’s eyelashes fluttered, her entire body melting in the succubus’s embrace.