Chapter 2: A Strider’s Weakness
Dirk ==> Show Jake around your place
You twist the key in the door to your apartment and shove the door hard with your shoulder to get it to open. The smell of stale cigarette smoke from the apartment below greets you, and you don’t bother kicking off your shoes before walking in. Jake follows on your heels like a puppy dog, his eyes wide as he glances around. Inside is your wonderland of smuppets, robotics, empty orange soda cans, and shitty shitty swords. You blame Dave for the latter. When he moved out, he never bothered to take his shitty collection with him, and you never bothered to clean them up. Whatever, you’ll sneak them into his refrigerator sometime when he’s least expecting it.
Lazily, you gesture with a single wave, “home sweet home. It’s not much, but it’s all I need.”
Jake’s eyes are wide, and his gaze flitters around the room from one thing to the next in a matter of seconds. It’s almost enough to make your head spin. He shifts his green duffle bag around on his shoulder as he looks around, finally silent for once. The entire ride home he talked your ear off about one movie or another, and your guess was right. He has absolutely horrible taste in movies. You’ll have to change that.
You sweep aside a few smuppets and flop down on the second-hand futon in your living room, flipping on the TV with a lovably worn-in remote. “Bathroom’s down the hall to the left. My room’s on the end, but there’s a spare on the right you can use.”
“Right,” he says, making his way down the hall. A moment later, his head pokes out from the hallway. “Oh, and thanks Strider! Letting me stay here and all. It’s all quite dandy of you!”
You give him an obligatory nod before he turns and heads back down the hallway. What an odd fellow. You find yourself grinning at the thought of his peculiar mannerisms while you surf the channels, as usual finding nothing very interesting on. You’d turn it off, but it’s so early that you’re not ready to sleep yet. You need something else to kill the time.
As you deliberate what to do, the sound of Jake’s light humming reaches your ears. He must be in the shower. He hums in the shower? How cute.
Then, you realize exactly what he’s humming. Ever so slightly, a frown ceases your lips and your eyes narrow a bit in disapproval. He’s humming the Top Gun theme, and you just have to shake your head. No no no. He’s got to see some real cinema.
Dirk ==> Introduce Jake to real cinema
Ten minutes later, Jake is sitting next to you on the futon, eating the remnants of your leftover Chinese takeout from yesterday with a plastic fork. For you, it’s ramen noodles, which always seem to hit the spot when you’re too lazy to make anything else or order a pizza.
Yes, you can eat. What do you think you are, a vampire? No, you’ll not be lumped with them.
You turn to Jake after that odd thought about yourself and ask, “are you ready for a masterpiece in cinema?”
The answer is it doesn’t matter if he’s ready or not. You’ve already pressed the play button. But he grins anyway and says, “bring it on, Strider!”
The theme music begins to play, and Jake is already on the edge of his seat, slowly slurping a chow mein noodle. It’s difficult for you to peel your eyes off him for some reason, but you do, and none too soon. The movie’s finally revealed.
Commando. Starring Arnold Schwarzenegger.
The ironies couldn’t get any better. Back when you actually had time to chill with Dave and Bro, the three of you would sit through Arnold marathons, dubbing over parts and cracking jokes the whole way. It was fun. And though you do make a few comments through the movie, the way Jake’s eyes are glued to the screen slows your usual banter.
He actually likes it. Really likes it. And not in the ironic way either. You’re starting to wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into having Jake English as a roommate.
When the movie ends, Jake practically whoops with glee. “Strider! That was fantastic! Tell me you have more of these Arnold films!”
You do. Through all the years, you and your bros have collected them all. Even the shitty ones like Twins and Junior.
Jake happily sits with you through Predator and Total Recall before you’re finally starting to feel the stress of the day wearing on you. As a Strider, you would never admit it, but Roxy’s death has hit you much harder than you would like. And after the close scrape with Vriska, you’re ready to hit the sack.
A glance over at Jake’s drooping eyelids tells you that he’s feeling about the same way. He notices you staring and grins sheepishly. His two front teeth are a little bigger than the rest, and they peek out when he smiles in what you can only describe as an adorable way.
…wait, adorable? Fuuuuuuuck.
“Sorry, Strider! It seems the old noggin isn’t what it used to be!” Jake apologizes between a yawn. “All these movies are quite fine, but I’m afraid that plane trip right knocked me on my bottom!”
You want to make a comment about his bottom. You don’t.
“S’fine,” you say, standing when he stands, absently flicking off the TV. “Knowing Bro, he has an action packed day planned for us tomorrow. You’ll need your sleep.”
“Oh I hope so! That’s precisely why I transferred here!” Jake says enthusiastically. Before he closes the door to his room, he says, “goodnight Strider. Sleep well.”
“Yeah you too,” you echo, closing your door and falling into bed. Seconds later, you’re asleep.
* * *
Dirk ==> Let Jake wake you up
What? No. Why would you do that?
You roll over, smelling something unusual in the house. Something you’ve only smelled the few times Roxy slept over.
Your feet carry you to the bathroom first where you make sure you’re halfway presentable (you’re a Strider damnit and you’ve always got to look your best) before trundling groggily into your kitchen. What greets you just might be the most beautiful sight you’ve seen in a while.
Pancakes. Piles and piles of pancakes. If you had to guess, you’d say Jake must have been at this for at least an hour or two already. There are chocolate chip pancakes, blueberry pancakes, strawberry, banana, and is that peanut butter? Yes, you think so.
Jake smiles at you when you flop into one of your kitchen chairs, just staring at the piles of deliciousness all around you. “I do say, Strider, your kitchen needed a little bit of work. I noticed last night that all you seem to carry in your refrigerator is orange soda. I hope you don’t mind me taking the liberty to hit the local market this morning and stock up!”
“Not one fucking bit,” you agree.
Market. Who says fucking market? Jake English says market. Despite your hatred of his lingo yesterday, you’re finding that it doesn’t seem to bother you today. The fact that he made you breakfast probably has something to do with it.
Jake notices you staring and laughs. “Well don’t just gawk at them! Dig in!”
You do. Jake already has paper plates set out for you, and you waste no time grabbing one and inhaling what’s in front of you. You hadn’t realized how ravenous you were, but you guess it makes sense. After all, you only had coffee and ramen yesterday.
Jake finishes flipping the last of his pancakes and sits with you, eating his food cleanly with a green plastic fork and knife. Did you not have any silverware in your kitchen? You seem to think you do, but maybe it’s all dirty?
Whatever. You don’t care. Pancakes now.
“Jake, this idea was the best idea,” you inform him between large bites.
“Good! You’ll need your energy,” he says, tilting his head and grinning in a way that makes you suspicious. “I hear we have quite a day ahead of us.”
“Who did you hear that from?” you question, wondering why Bro hadn’t bothered to tell you anything.
“Only from the coolest sexiest Strider on the face of this planet.”
You know that voice. Wordlessly, you raise your fist in the air.
Dave meets it with a fist bump then slides into a seat at the table next to you.
“Long time no see, lil’ bro,” you say, offering Dave a paper plate that somehow got stuck under yours. “We’re working together today?”
Dave accepts the plate, selects one of each type of pancake, stacks them on top of each other, and digs into them all together. “Yep, all four of us.”
“John’s here too?” You question, looking around for his signature little bright ball of blue.
It’s then that you notice one of Dave’s shirt pockets squirming and spasming. You hadn’t bothered to listen harder, but now that you do, you can hear a tiny voice exclaiming, “Dave! This is so NOT funny! I want pancakes too damn it! Don’t make me burn a hole in your shirt! I’ll do it, I swear. I’ll do it twenty times.”
“He sounds pretty pissed,” you comment, accepting a cup of coffee when Jake offers it to you. When did he even make that? Sneaky bastard.
The corner of Dave’s lips curl ever so slightly, and you know that he’s highly amused. Slowly, almost as if he’s enjoying taking his time, he unzips the pocket, murmuring, “you gonna say shit about my shoes again?”
“No! Fuck your shoes! Like I even care about your stinky twink-ass kicks!”
Tiny hands slap on top of Dave’s index finger, pushing the zipper open faster. As soon as he can, John squirms out of the small opening in Dave’s pocket and flops onto his hands and knees on the tabletop, coughing up little particles of lint. “Dude, don’t you ever *hack hack* do that again, or I *wheeze* swear I will wreck all your shirts!”
Dave actually does smirk at this, commenting, “of course, who wouldn’t want to see this primo slab of meat without a shirt?”
John is tiny, smaller than your hand. Despite that, he stands proudly at his full four inches of height, his light blue pixie wings fluttering as he shakes an enraged fist at Dave. Like Roxy, John chooses not to dress in the typical pixie garb. He’s fond of the color blue, and he wears what looks like really comfy blue pajamas, complete with a little blue hood so he can curl up and fall asleep anywhere he chooses. Even you’ve gotta admit it was cute the few times you caught him sleeping on Dave’s chest as the three of you and Roxy all crammed onto your futon to watch crappy action flicks.
You are Dirk Strider, and nothing gets by you. You know your little bro’s in love, even if he has yet to say it. Maybe it’s because they haven’t been able to take their relationship to any level at all, so to speak. Unlike Roxy, John is much younger, and he still hasn’t learned to change his height at will. You haven’t asked, but you know it’s been a source of frustration for both him and Dave. Literally. Heh.
But you almost think it’s better this way. In your line of work, there’s no telling if you will live to see another day. If Dave were ever to get as close to John as you were to Roxy—
You mentally scold yourself for thinking about it. No. You won’t go there. And you don’t want your little bro to ever have to go through the pain you’re feeling right now.
You realize that they’ve been bickering back and forth, while Jake continues to eat his pancakes and watch in amusement. Before they can continue their little quarrel, you clear your throat, drawing everyone’s attention to you. “Dave, you were saying we’ve gotta work together on this one?”
“Yeah, Bro says it’s some demon. Damara Megido?” Dave says, lilting his statement into a question, as he’s never run into her before.
You still, a cold chill running down your spine.
Slowly, Dave actually lowers his shades an inch, staring at you with his deep wine-red eyes. “Dude, did you just pale even more? How is that even possible?”
“Damara,” you murmur coarsely. You actually do feel the blood draining from your face. “I can see why he wants us to work together.”
“Care to fill a bro in?” he asks.
“You were sleeping last time she resurfaced. It had to be at least a century ago,” you say, resting your coffee on the table, forgotten. “Damara is crafty, resourceful, and psychotic as hell.”
“And that makes her different from all the other demons we fight how?” Dave asks.
“Damara preys on men with our very weakness,” you say gravely, leveling your gaze at Dave with the utmost seriousness. “We almost lost Bro that day.”
Nobody says a word. They’re all waiting for you to continue.
“Bro and I used to be a team. We were unstoppable. But after that, after we both almost died, he decided that we shouldn’t be anymore. That’s why we have teams of misfits like we do now. If the enemy preys on the weakness of one, then the other can finish the job,” you explain.
It’s common knowledge, but you feel like now would be a good time to remind everyone, including the newcomer Jake, about why you work the way you do. You glance briefly over at Jake. You know he isn’t like you, but you haven’t been able to place exactly what he is yet. You have no idea what his strengths or weaknesses are. But you’re not worried. In due time, you’ll figure it out.
You turn to Dave and continue, “we woke you up shortly after that. Remember how Bro was really weak those first few months? Damara is why.”
“Dave, is that true?” John asks quietly. His brows are furrowed in concern and whatever argument they were having before is completely forgotten. “Is she really that big of a danger to you?”
“After all that talk of letting me get my beauty rest until all the big bad demons were gone, they couldn’t resist waking this handsome hunk of Strider up early,” Dave admits, his tone far more serious than his playful words. Despite his big talk, you know Dave is scared.
Clearly, John has learned to interpret your little bro too, because he rests a hand on one of Dave’s knuckles. He reassures him, “don’t worry, I’ll look out for you, Dave.”
You realize that Jake hasn’t said anything in a while, and when you turn to face him, you’re surprised to see that even he looks a little flustered. “What about you, English? You gonna be ok?”
“Of-of course!” Jake stammers, suddenly alert. He flashes a charismatic grin at you as he says, “Damara won’t get the best of me!”
Sensing that there’s more to the story than he’s letting on, you angle your head, gazing closer at him through your shades. You might not have Bro’s telepathic abilities, but you know how to stare someone down until he spills.
It takes exactly 2.3 seconds before Jake swallows and continues, “I mean, she does seem to have some sort of—obsession? With me? I couldn’t tell you why, but it hasn’t stopped me from kicking her arse back to Derse where it belongs!”
You barely know Jake, and yet his words shake you a bit more than you’d care to admit. Somehow you get the feeling it takes a lot to crack that cheerful adventurous spirit of his, but you scoff it off saying, “Damara has an interest in all men. Just be on your guard.”
* * *
Dirk ==> Find that bitch and kill her
Yep, that’s exactly what you’re about to do. Everyone’s piled into your Jeep, and your sick beats are filling the air. None of you speak during the trip. Thoughts of Bro’s broken and bleeding form haunt your memories, but you force yourself to shake out of it and actually pay attention to the road. A glimpse into the rear-view mirror tells you that Dave is lying down across the back seat, trying to give off an air of nonchalance that he clearly isn’t feeling. John’s curled up on his shoulder, and he’s saying something but you can’t hear it over the roar of the wind and your sweet jams. Jake is more subdued than you’ve ever seen him. You half expected him to be blathering on about some film or another, but tonight he’s oddly silent.
You follow your instincts to the Red-Light District. Drug abusers and seedy groups of people are hanging around the streets, wide awake despite the time of night. Painted ladies that you’re certain you’ve seen on these streets for years share the corner with girls that can’t be over fourteen. The whole scene disgusts you.
Once Cronus made some lewd innuendo about you frequenting these streets, and you cracked him so hard that he never made that comment again. You had informed Cronus that, unlike him, you would never stoop to this level. You definitely wouldn’t use the damaged women (and men) that sell themselves here.
As you slowly prowl the streets, in search of your mark, Bro calls your cell. “Sup?” You answer with your typical air of Strider-brand cool.
“Hey, lil bro, you doin’ ok?” Bro asks. He sounds a little more concerned than usual. You’re really starting to get sick of it.
“Right as rain,” you assure him, shifting the phone between your shoulder and neck more comfortably. “Why?”
“I’ve been thinking about it. I want you to tell Dave to go home. I’ll send someone else to take his place tonight.”
“Don’t think he’ll listen, but I’ll pass the word,” you say, leaning back a bit in your seat. “Hey Dave, feel like going home for the night?”
“Nah man,” Dave waves nonchalantly. “You already dragged me down to this cesspit of the city. We’re doing this shit, no matter how shitty. We’re deep in this bitch like a shark in the sea. That’s you and me, fightin’ till eternity.”
Dave continues to rap/ramble on, but you ignore him and turn your attention back to Bro. “He said no,” you relay simply.
“Haha, very funny,” Bro says, clearly not amused. “You know what I mean. Turn around and kick him out of your ride. Leave him at home.”
“And waste another hour of my night? Don’t think so,” you say. You’re not really sure why you’re arguing with Bro on this one. He’s making the right call, and in a moment, he’s bound to tell you what you know already. There’s a reason you and Dave shouldn’t be on this assignment.
“Look I made a mistake giving Damara to both of you, ok? Is that what you wanted to hear? I fucked up, but that doesn’t mean you have to too. Send Dave home,” Bro says, his voice growing a little bit more strained than usual. You get the feeling that if you were sitting next to him right now and could actually see him, he’d be sweating bullets. A few veins in his neck are probably puffed out like usual when he’s angry and is trying not to show it. “Dave and you are both weak against Damara. You saw what she did to me. I don’t want to lose both of you.”
“Well, you should have thought about that a little sooner,” you respond. Your voice is growing thinner, because you can see the object of your bane clearly down the street now. Your vision is better than most, including demons of the night like yourself. You’re not sure why, but you suspect that years of wearing shades have trained your already enhanced eyes to concentrate on what’s important, blocking out the rest. So it’s not hard for you to find who you’re looking for, even though she’s a mile away. Unfortunately, the demon you’re looking for is one of the few with better eyesight than you. If you can see her, no doubt she can see you.
Down past the usual hookers and drug dealers, crack addicts, and homeless winos, there’s a lady in red. Her black hair is twisted into a bun with curved golden chopsticks. The painted red smile on her lips matches the color of her eye-shadow and her Oriental-flavored crimson dress. Set deep into her hair are a pair of curling yellow-orange horns. Though horns are definitely not your thing, something about them is very attractive on her. So is her dress. And her coy little smile. And—
You recognize the beginnings of Damara’s spell and pull yourself out of it with a quick sharp breath. She sees you struggling from all the way down the block and grins malevolently. With a single index finger, she beacons you forward and disappears inside one of the buildings.
“Bro, she’s here. It’s too late now, she’s seen us all,” you rationalize, feeling as though you really shouldn’t be disobeying your Bro’s orders. You know he has your best interests in mind, but you can’t help it. You know that you and Dave are the best on the force. It would be murder to send anyone else on this mission. Besides, you really want to get this bitch back for what she did to Bro.
“Dirk! Don’t go! Listen, I’ll get some other guys in there and—”
“Gotta go. Later,” you murmur, ending the call and shoving your phone back into your pocket.
“Bro’s gonna be pissed at you later,” Dave remarks from where he’s still lying in the back.
“If that’s my biggest problem, I’ll be glad,” you answer honestly. You almost wish you hadn’t, because Dave sits up suddenly, his mouth in a hard line. John is flittering about more than usual, and even Jake is quietly staring down into his lap at his hands. You sigh, “look, we’re not gonna die tonight. So stop having a pity party, all of you. We just have to look out for each other.”
They don’t say anything as you pull your vehicle to the side of the road, parking close to the building she disappeared into. You unbuckle yourself and turn back to face all of them. “Damara’s specialty is sex appeal. She’s a succubus that’s been around several millennia. Her psychic abilities are through the roof, and she can control both the living and the dead.” You turn solemnly to everyone in turn. “It sounds bad, but really she’s just another demon. If we have each other’s backs, we’ll be able to take her down. Dave, no showboating.”
He scoffs, “like I’d ever—”
“You would. Don’t,” you say, cutting him off. “Alright. Are we ready to do this?”
Three solemn nods and you’re ready to go.
* * *
Dirk ==> Find that bitch and kill her faster!
You’re working on it, ok? Sometimes things just need a little set-up first.
The building Damara Megido disappeared into is, not surprisingly, abandoned. It looks like this place used to be a den of pleasures, but it’s fallen into disrepair. Ripped red and gold satin fabric hangs from the ceilings and walls, and half-burned and stained oriental rugs partially cover the grimy cement floors. The air is oddly filled with the scent of incense, which leaves you with a strange heady feeling.
Realizing that it’s probably just another part of Damara’s magic, you shake your head, ignoring the scent as best you can.
The front room is lit, but all the others are dark. You dig back into your memory of the last time you faced Damara. You don’t think she had any minions in her hideout, just a few ghosts of the past that she used to torment you. While the ghosts of your dead parents didn’t really do much to you (you barely knew them) they did a number on Bro. It was easy for Damara to get her claws into him after that.
There is a dilapidated wooden stairway in the center of the room leading up. The light is on upstairs. You know this is a set-up. It always it, but there isn’t much you can do about it. With a silent jerk of your head, you signal to the others and lead the way up.
The second floor isn’t much better off than the first. Crimson runners that are dusty and threadbare traverse lengthy hallways that lead to more darkened rooms. Ahead of you is another staircase, with the light lit above.
You travel up five stories of the building in this manner before you finally hit the top floor. In front of you is a large set of wooden double doors, ornately painted with cracked swirling gold. You know what’s behind those doors.
Jake happens to be beside you. He silently slips his pistols from their holders and nods at you. You mouth, “3, 2, 1.”
Simultaneously you both kick in the double doors. The scent of incense washes over you like a powerful tidal wave. From behind the haze, you can see that Damara is splayed across a giant bed, angling her hips up at you suggestively as she beacons you forward. Her eyes are narrow lust-filled slits, and when she speaks, you’re not surprised to find that it’s in Japanese. But thanks to a very (non)-ironic love of Japanese Anime that you and your bros had decades ago, you all learned to speak it fluently. “Come to me…” she croons.
Like you’d go anywhere else. You have to put this bitch down.
You’re the first to move. Brandishing your katana, you jump into the air and drive the blade right through where she was laying on the bed.
Damara tisks besides you murmuring sultrily in Japanese, “you want to penetrate me? How lovely. Why don’t you use your other sword instead?” Her hand finds your crotch and gives it a light squeeze.
You slice your katana through the air she was just occupying, but she’s already drifted away, laughing. Dave comes at her next, but just like you, his blade meets with empty air. Damara taunts him just like she taunted you, running a finger up the side of his cheek, squeezing his thigh, leaving light little strokes all over his body as he futilely attempts to slice away at her.
John takes a turn next, swinging at her with his gigantic Zillyhoo hammer that he’s somehow magically materialized. Again, she’s too fast for him, and even when Dave and John try to tag-team her, she still gets the better of them.
She’s just too fast. Your Strider-speed lets you keep up with her, but that’s about all you can do. Damara’s millennia of age have only increased her power, and she’s even faster than you remember. A glance over at Jake tells you that he’s struggling to get a clean shot, squinting through those thick glasses of his. He keeps refocusing, his lips set in a grim line. You think you hear him murmur, “blast—!”
She finally leaves Dave and John alone, materializing back on the bed, kicking her heels up almost playfully as she swishes a foot in the air. “How exhilarating! I haven’t had this many boys to play with in centuries! But I can’t steal all the fun. Why don’t we have a beautiful orgy?”
No sooner does she utter the words when the incense smoke hanging in the air begins to condense. Slowly, it forms into people of the past, demons that should haunt your nightmares. Your parents are back, holding their arms out to you, mouthing your name and Dave’s name silently. It’s a little eerie, but like last time, it does little to affect you. You barely knew them.
Dave doesn’t even seem to recognize them, he’s more distracted by John, who is freaking out as a whole flock of dead fairies circle around him. There are a lot more pixies than Striders, so you’re not surprised that so many of John’s friends and family have died in his lifetime.
You don’t have time to worry about Dave and John, they’ll take care of each other. You turn quickly to Jake, about to tell him to snap out of it.
But there aren’t any ghosts around Jake. Instead, Damara is beside him, running her hands along his thigh, licking his cheek, and worshiping his ass in a way that makes your eyes narrow. “My Lord…” Damara moans in Japanese. You wonder if Jake can even understand her. “I’ll be your dirty little cum-slut. Come, let us fuck beneath the full moon. You can plunge your dick in my little cunt-hole doggy-style in the hayloft of a barn or fuck my mouth next to the roaring sea-shore. I’ll do anything for you, my Lord English…”
Damara works her way back around to his front, keeping his hands pinned to his side as she places a full kiss on his lips. You sense some sinister power being passed between them, foul and green. Jake’s struggling, but he has yet to fire his pistols. You wonder what the deal is and if he was being completely honest with you earlier when he said he wouldn’t have any problem kicking her ass.
Before you can contemplate it further, the ghosts of your parents are in front of you again, whispering your name, reaching out for you. But you suddenly don’t care about them anymore. If the ghosts of the past are here to haunt you, then there’s one particular ghost you really want to see.
Where is Roxy?
You turn around, searching the room frantically. You hadn’t realized it, but the room has slowly filled with souls of the dead, all miserably floating around. You don’t see her anywhere. She isn’t even amongst the pixie ghosts haunting John.
Where is Roxy???
The question is so powerful in your mind that Damara looks over at you, despite still fawning over Jake. If you were more yourself right now, you would wonder how her psychic abilities compare to Bro’s. “Where is who, now? Which deceased soul would you like me to use in your torment?”
“Roxy!” You shout after her, wondering why you’re getting so worked up over this. You never lose your cool like this, but you’re actually starting to panic a little. Where is she? She was your best friend. She should be here. Where is Roxy?
One of Damara’s dark brows arches elegantly, but she doesn’t respond to you.
It couldn’t piss you off more. You switch to speaking Japanese, desperate to get the demon’s attention, “Damara Megido! Where the hell is she?!! Where is Roxy?!!”
You don’t see it when Damara detaches herself from Jake. You’re so worked up that you only realize she’s moved when she’s right behind you. Her voice is low and sultry, and you feel her breath on the shell of your ear as she murmurs, “Sorry, Dirk. Roxy isn’t here.”
Suddenly your whole torso is on fire. You gasp, tasting blood in your mouth as you glance down. Damara’s thin dark claws are speared through your torso, puncturing your lungs, stomach, spleen, intestines… everything feels like it’s on fire. As she withdraws her claws from you, you fall onto the bed, gasping as you bleed out, leaving a crimson pool on the creamy silk sheets.
You’re vaguely aware of Dave screaming, tackling Damara and doubling his efforts to slice her with his blade. John is still wigging out over the dead fairies, and where is Jake? Oh, he’s already by your side, pressing his hands on your wounds. You’re not sure what he’s trying to do, you’ve got twenty holes in your body where she sunk her claws through you. You feel your body healing, but it’s not going to be fast enough. You’ll lose too much blood, and by the time you’re patched up, you’ll be worthless in this fight.
“Jake, forget me, I’ll heal,” you manage to whisper weakly before you’re overcome with hackling coughs, blood speckling the sheets with every painful heave. “Help Dave!” you gasp.
You’ve been keeping an eye on Dave’s fight with Damara, and it doesn’t look pretty. She already has him pinned to the ground, straddling his torso with her thighs as she pins his wrists down with her clawed hands. “Oh look! A baby Strider. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck a baby.”
You try to shout at her, to tell her to leave Dave alone, but all that comes out is another blood-wracked cough.
She’s kissing him now. Kissing the life out of your lil’ bro, but he doesn’t even realize it. You can tell that he’s getting caught in her spell. The seconds tick by like hours as she plunges her tongue into his mouth, rolling her hips along his cock suggestively.
You’re not sure how much time has gone by, and it scares you. What the fuck is Jake doing? Why isn’t he helping Dave? Why do you have to helplessly watch this?
She must have dug her metaphorical claws pretty deeply into him, because when Damara lets him go, Dave doesn’t struggle. They both have their arms wrapped possessively around each other now. He’s sucking back greedily, pulling her closer to him. He’s completely wrapped up in her spell, but you have to wonder if he would keep going anyway, even if he wasn’t.
Because Dave’s stealing the life from her too.
Because Dave’s a STRIDER, just like Bro and just like you.
You know what’s going through his mind even without Bro’s telepathy, because you know what you are.
You’re an incubus.
Watching Dave feed is not something you really care to see, but you’re even less pleased about this tug of war. Usually his life isn’t on the line. Usually it’s you telling him to pull back before he kills someone, not the other way around. This time, you can’t tell who’s winning.
It scares the shit out of you, because you think you know the answer. You don’t think it’s your lil’ bro. Damara has a few millennia on Dave, and no doubt she’s just playing with him.
You try to warn him, you try to get Jake to go and help him, but for some reason Jake still isn’t moving. Weakly, you raise your arm to try and get Damara’s attention back to you, but you’ve lost too much blood. You can’t move. You can only watch.
As you feared, suddenly, Dave is thrashing below her. He’s struggling, but he’s growing weaker and weaker and…
Suddenly a giant bright ball of blue collides with the side of Damara’s head, knocking her off Dave and sending her crashing into the wall. John is fluttering in the air just above Dave and brandishing his ridiculously bright blue Zillyhoo hammer, which is easily 100 times his size. You never knew he was capable of the menacing way he growls, “Get off my boyfriend!”
While Damara is reeling from the unexpected blow, John is quick to deliver another to her. And another. With each crack, you hear her bones snapping, her body breaking into a useless heap of flesh. He pounds the fucking shit out of her, and you couldn’t be happier that your lil’ bro’s boyfriend is a fairy.
When she’s finally laying in a bleeding heap on the ground, her body twisted in ways that shouldn’t be possible, Jake finally rises to his feet. Slowly, he walks over to her, cocking the hammer of his pistol and aiming it at her head.
The wicked grin never once leaves Damara’s face. “See you in Hell, my Lord.”
Two shots, clean through the brain and the heart, and she’s gone. Damara’s Megido’s body bursts into dust, leaving a fine powder on the ground.
John flutters a bit in the air and coughs on the particles. “Ugh, do they always have to explode?”
Dave wobbles to his feet. He looks a little weak, but he’s ok. That’s all you really cared about. You can relax now.
Jake’s at your side again. You think he’s saying your name, but you’re not sure. You think you feel yourself being lifted up in the air as the world fades to black.
Yep, this fic is definitely still going! There will be more chapters. Take that as you will. ;)
I think the link below works, but if it doesn’t, sorry. I tried.
Chapter one is here!