An Incubus' Claim
I flopped into bed, sighing with the pleasure of finally lying on the soft fabric of my sheets after such a long day. The neighbor across the hall of my apartment complex was blasting music, but thankfully I was far too tired to care. With another drawn-out sigh I removed my boxers, scratched at my sheath, and curled up. My bedroom was dark, the only light filtering in through the window facing the highway, from the streetlights lining it. My blinds were closed, so only a few rail-thin slivers shone across the beige carpet. Bits of old electronic devices were scattered across the computer desk next to my bed, the computer still humming quietly.
Sighing I rolled away from the computer, closing my eyes tightly. It'd only been a few days since I'd returned to my hometown of Vetsburg, and just earlier today I'd put in applications to the local electronic stores. I didn't have much hope for them, so I also applied to the local government support office. Being a mixed-breed is definitely a bonus, even if one looks perfectly like one species or the other. My parents were the first mixed-breed couple in their respective families, this causing quite the uproar in my father's family but none at all in my mother's. My father's family was a successful, very business-oriented group, always striving for that extra dollar. My mother's was just about the opposite, mostly creative artists and writers. I'd loved writing from an early age, even had my first work published in a magazine when I was thirteen. Of course I blew the money on video games and soda, but it wasn't that much. Recently all I'd been able to write were dollar-store romance novels and internet-only porn books.
As I was finally feeling the tug of sleep, my cellphone rang. I cursed rather loudly and rolled over, grabbing the phone and glaring at the screen, blinking sleep from my eyes. It was my father. I pressed the 'answer' button, sighing.
"It's late Dad, what's up?" I said, staring at the ceiling with the phone to my ear.
"Heya bud, it's not late! It's about 6 am!"
"Oh. Right. Tired..."
"But anyhow I was wondering if you wanted to come out to breakfast with me and your grandfather in a few hours."
"Sure...where?" I sighed, standing and rubbing my face with my free hand.
"Apollo's, I'm sure you know where it is." He laughed. I smirked a little; it was my favorite restaurant while I lived here.
"Yeah, alright. I'll see if I can get some money from the bank on my way there."
"Oh, no worries, kiddo! We'd be glad to see you. You've only been in town for a few days, and it'll be the first time we've seen you since you left. The least we can do is pay your tab."
"You do remember how much I eat, right?" I said with another grin as I shuffled into the kitchen, sniffing out my stash of energy drinks.
"Well, Grandpa and I were just talking about that; he says you must be powered by a small black hole!" We both laughed at that. "But I got to go and do my stocks for today, we'll see you in a few hours! Love you!" With that, we hung up and I sat down the phone with a sigh. I was used to going a few days without sleep, but the first day was always the hardest. I drank heavily from my energy drink as I gathered my clothing, my usual dark shirt and camouflage cargo jeans, and headed into the bathroom for my morning shower
Apollo's was within walking distance of my apartment, a quick crossing of the highway and jaunt across a drugstore parking lot brought me to one of the oldest restaurants in Vetsburg. A familiar white Buick sat in one of the handicapped parking spaces, a red compact sitting next to it. I pushed open the swinging door, the bell tied to the opposite side of the door dinging as I passed. A waitress looked up from behind the counter, an aged fox.
"Hey there hun, just one?" She said, taking a menu from the rack next to the cash register.
"No, I'm actually meeting someone here." As I said this my father waved from one of the tables. I smiled, and walked over. My father was a middle-aged border collie, wearing a black business suit that almost melded into his black fur. A long white streak ran from under his muzzle to disappear under the collar of his like-colored dress shirt. He looked truly excited to see me. My grandfather was dressed much more casually, a brown polo shirt over his slowly graying fur. He was showing his age much more than he had when I left, but greeted me with a firm handshake.
"Well, look at the stranger." He said, gesturing to a chair to his left. I sat, smiling.
"Heya, Grandpa. Hey, dad." I said, as the waitress came over. I gave her my drink order, a strong black coffee.
"Since when do you drink coffee, son?" Asked my father, raising an eyebrow.
"Since I didn't sleep last night." I said, shrugging. "Still adapting to the new place."
"Were your neighbors loud?"
"Yeah, but I liked his music so it wasn't a big deal."
"Do you want me to have a word with him?" My father owned the apartment complex that I was currently living in. Technically I didn't need to work since my father was paying for my housing and the government was paying for the dominant part of my food, but I needed to keep busy lest I slip into one of my 'classic' depressive streaks. "Because we've had some complaints about him before."
"No, dad. Besides, I was thinking about not sleeping anyhow." I explained, trying my best to shrug and smile, but due to my lack of rest came out as a sort of twitch and a grimace.
"You do look really tired." Said my grandfather, looking me over. Our drinks arrived, the same thing I had ordered repeated once for all of us. We put in our food orders, and sent the waitress off with them.
"So, the main reason I wanted to have you come out to breakfast with us this morning was that I had an offer for you."
"Oh?" I said, my eyebrow twitching. I had meant to raise it; maybe I should have gotten more sleep. Or any at all.
"One of our little ventures here in town is in need of some help. A gofer if you want to use the word." Said my dad, drinking his coffee slowly.
"A what?" The word was totally lost on me.
"A gofer A go-fer. Get it?" Snorted my grandfather.
"Oh. Kind of like an errand boy?" I asked. My father confirmed this.
"Yeah. Now, we know that you don't believe in this kind of stuff, but it's one of those new-agey shops." My dad shrugged. "Sells health food and crystals, has that incense going constantly. I visited there once to see how they were doing and collect rent, and when I went to my next meeting the investors thought I was some sort of Indian extremist." He laughed at that.
"New-agey? I might be interested, if only for the health food bit."
"You going to be alright to see them today? I know they were desperate for someone."
"Yeah, I should be fine after I eat." As I said this our food arrived, and as usual my grandfather out-ate us all. At seventy-five, he was still as spry as he was when he was younger.
After breakfast was done, I decided to head down to the shop my dad had given me the address for. It wasn't an overly long walk, but the place was a little hard to find through my lack of sleep-addled brain. It was set on a side street between a hardware store and a collectables shop. Outside the shop sat a small sign reading 'Fortunes read and told, spiritual advice given.' As I read that a shiver ran through me, and I got one of those feelings that only happens when something bad is going to happen and soon. I brushed it off, assigning it to minor hallucinations, and went inside. The bell attached to the door chimed quietly as I did, strangely going well with the quiet drums and flute going from a small portable CD player in a corner of the room. The room itself was lit by the light pouring in through the glass door, as well as several fake candelabra sitting around. There was a closed door into what I could assume was a back room, with a note attached to it. 'Namaste, friend. I shall be back in a few minutes, I had to make a phone call.' It read, causing me to look around.
"New-agey." I said, looking through the shelves lining a wall next to a pair of chairs. They were covered in crystals of all types, bags of incense and spices, and quite a few other things that I couldn't quite place their use. The bottom racks of the shelves held books with titles like "Wizards And You", "Aurum Solis", and "Nine Proven Magickal Rites". I smiled at the last, wondering just how you proved such a thing. As I was looking at a small statuette that looked vaguely phallic, I heard the back door open. Standing quickly I turned to face the figure that entered, clad in a black jacket and a pair of jeans that looked like they had survived World War Two, but only barely.
"Hello there, friend." He said, brushing back his hair and extending a hand. An arctic fox, his fur was as white as can be. He appeared to be the younger side of middle aged, but moved with the grace and accuracy of someone younger. "I can only assume our benevolent landlord sent you?"
"Yeah. I'm-" I started.
"Markus Riles. I'm Eric Dawling." He finished. I froze mid-handshake.
"What? How'd you..."
"Your father told me." The fox laughed, finishing the handshake and taking a seat on one of the chairs. "Sit with me, I want to get to know you if you're going to work for me. That is, of course, if you want to work for me. I don't impose." I sat, across from him.
"Well, my dad said you needed an errand boy. He's actually paying my rent and the government's paying for my daily bread, so I don't technically have to work." I shrugged. "I need to keep busy though."
"I understand that." He looked me over, and I shuddered. "Well, I'm not getting the sensation of ill will, so that does speak volumes. I'd be glad to have the extra help. And..." he trailed off, apparently thinking.
"'And' what?" I asked, eying him nervously.
"Do you believe in all this?" Eric said, gesturing widely. "The crystals, the books, the incense and music..."
"I don't believe it's impossible." I responded, shrugging. "I haven't had ghosts visiting me or been spirited away my mischievous forest sprites. I'm not an elven prince or anything."
"I see. Now, I do have an errand for you, if you'd like to start." Eric crossed his legs, looking me over with his keen blue eyes again. I didn't shudder this time.
"Okay."
"I put in an order for an old necklace I've been interested in. The antiques shop on Morris street should have it in by now. Can you go see?"
"Sure." I stood, and started out.
"Oh, one more thing about that necklace...please don't touch it." Eric said, standing and heading towards the back door again.
"What?"
"Don't touch the metal part of the necklace. It's got a demon locked inside; more specifically an incubus." Eric waved a hand. "Easy enough to avoid."
"Okay..." I said, shaking my head. As the door shut behind me and I walked down the road, I seriously doubted the fox's sanity. An incubus? I had to keep myself from laughing.
The antiques shop on Morris street was the only business on the street, a converted home. Several old and artfully rusted pieces of small farm equipment sat outside, along with a sign that read "A Touch Of The Past!" I opened the door, and headed straight for the counter.
"Hello there." Said the elderly woman who was posted behind the counter. A portable television set on the counter played a soap opera. "What can I get you, sir?"
"I'm here to pick up a necklace, for Eric Dawling." I explained. She nodded and stood slowly, shuffling off to a back room. Soon she returned with a small white box, and a slip of paper.
"Just sign here, so we can say who picked it up." I signed quickly, then took the box and left. As I walked down the street I opened the box, looking inside at this fabled 'incubus necklace'. It was an ankh, heavy steel on black cord. It looked tarnished, almost dark, and I poked the metal. Nothing happened.
"That's what I thought." I put the box in my pocket, and returned to Eric.
He was drinking a cup of tea when I returned. I handed him the box as he sat down the cup.
"Ah, excellent." He said, opening the box and looking the ankh over. "Truly excellent. Thank you." He stood, putting the box in his pocket. "And you didn't touch it?"
"Nope." I lied. "Didn't even look inside."
"Good. That should be all I'll need from you today. Go home and get some sleep." Eric disappeared into the back room, and I returned home.
I felt the strength leaving me as I shut my front door and locked it. With a deep sigh I undressed, opening the door to my bedroom. The lights were on, and in my bed reclined a nude reptilian figure. He grinned a predatory grin at me, his legs crossed and arms behind his head. His body was covered in obsidian scales, his eyes glowing a faint crimson.
"Why hallo thar." He said, still grinning.
"Who the fuck are you?!" I yelped, covering myself.
"'Don't touch the metal part of the necklace.' He said. 'It's got a demon locked inside, more specifically an incubus.'"
"How the hell do you know that?" I hissed, standing in the doorway.
"'More specifically, an incubus.'" The figure repeated, his grin fading. "Are you really that astronomically dense?"
"You can't be an incubus. You're some sort of pervert creep."
"Yes, I can. And pervert, yes. Creep, I'd like to think not. But there are those who would argue that to the ends of the worlds." He shrugged. "But you'd make Mammon proud, all that lying."
"Mammon...king of lies?" The incubus' eyes widened, and he leapt up from my bed.
"Holy shit! He knows something!" He laughed quietly. "Even though someone with half a whit of sense could extrapolate that. No points, sorry."
"So, you should explain yourself before I call the police." I said, trying to look as threatening as a thin, naked raccoon can.
"Oh you'll call the police!" The incubus laughed. "You'll call the police on an incubus. A being that 'doesn't exist'. At best you'd get a massive fine." He rolled his eyes. "Look. You touched my necklace, and now I'm bound to you. I'm your friend..." His eyes widened, and he gritted his sharp fangs as he hissed "Forever." He then broke out laughing. "Kitty kitty FRIENDS kitty kitty?" I stared at him.
"You're bound to me...do you have to obey me?" I asked.
"If I do, would I tell you?"
"Would you tell me if you didn't?"
"Would I tell you even if I do?"
"Would you-" I caught on. "No! Stop that!"
"But to answer your serious question with an answer that might be taken totally differently from what I say...yes. I do, kind of, have to obey you. Kind of. Sort of."
"Then go away. That's an order."
"But I can't, you see." The incubus sat on the bed again, flopping back and sighing. "You touching the necklace against a direct order was like your stereotypical 'sign the contract in blood' type of thing."
"So I'm stuck with you." I said, sighing and leaning against the doorframe and rubbing my eyes. I was beginning to see double, but a few blinks cleared it.
"Yep. Anything I can do for you?"
"Let me sleep." I collapsed into bed next to the incubus, and was immediately asleep.