Sydney was excited. For the first time in her life she was going to be in a position that would actually bring change and provide her with real influence for her and her species. She was walking with a colleague down a long corridor to complete her final step in turning her dream a reality. The last hurdle left was her current human form. Today would be the final step to solving that problem.
“Are you prepared to go through with this?” asked her supervisor, it was maybe the third or fifth time he had asked her this question.
“Yes!” Sydney repeated once more to her supervisor, “yes, Xil’tarion! I want this. You know I’ve been working my whole life towards becoming someone such as yourself.”
Xil’tarion looked down at himself, looking almost embarrassed. His white jumpsuit hid most of his green skin and scaly body. His lizard head was the most distracting feature about him. His large yellow eyes and snake-like complexion was also — by far — his most distinguished feature according to Sydney.
“Not many humans would be willing to go through with the procedure,” said Xil’tarion, “some on the council still think you’d be far more useful to influence world events as a human.”
“But your species has the final say when it comes to human elections and where the world economy is going,” argued Sydney, “if I want to have more of a say in our affairs I have to be willing to undergo reptilian conversion.”
The two of them stopped at the door to the operating room. Xil’tarion placed his green, scaly hand on her should and looked at her. He looked as if he was about to cry.
“I always respected and loved you as a human, Sydney,” he told her, “You work maintaining reptilian dominance in the EU has been invaluable for us.”
He hesitated for a moment before continuing:
“If you do this, you’ll have to wear fake human skin just as we do,” he warned her, “you’ll no longer be of your own kind, but you’ll still be deciding their fate, just like other reptilians like myself.”
Sydney delicately grabbed Xil’tarion’s cold hand and placed it on her cheek.
“Xil’tarion, I gave up a lot to become a shadow broker for the world’s most powerful,” said Sydney, “at this point, giving up my own humanity is a no brainer.”
Xil’tarion nodded, he could see her point. He slowly let her go as Sydney drifted towards the doorway to the operating room. Xil’tarion watched her as she approached the door, it’s entrance sliding open and beckoning her inside.
“Good luck!” he called out to her, “I’ll see you on the other side.”
“You too!” she called back.
Sydney went through the door and Xil’tarion watched. Another convert had been added to the ranks.
“God damn it…”
It was the only thing Crystal could bring herself to say at the start of the evening when she emerged from her coffin to find a dead body on the ground. The man, a gray, naked, husk of a corpse had obviously been drain and left vacant of any life force that she sought to drink from. She grimaced at the dried erection that stuck out from the dead man like a flag pole or in Crystal’s mind, a phallic grave stone.
Crystal remembered bringing the guy over the night before just to take a bit of his blood for feeding. He was so healthy and full of life when she found him, that she knew he’d make a great weekly food source to snack on. Maybe she’d kill him or let him go, but either way, he was too good a catch and too ripe for the taking for her to pass up.
What Crystal forgot to do, however, before going to bed that pre-drawn morning, was lock her bedroom door. There was only one person in this apartment that could have done this. Only a succubus could leave their dead with a boner like that.
“You fucking bitch,” Crystal snarled to herself, her fangs barely able to stay retracted in her mouth as she worked herself up into a fit of rage.
Crystal leaped from her coffin, picking up the dead body as she went, and kicked open the bedroom door. She carried the dead man into the living room where Kimberly was eating a bag of chips while watching something on T.V.
Kimberly, the sultry succubus, looked up from her show. She had another chip just inches away from going into her open mouth before noticing Crystal storming in. Kim blinked with wide eyed surprise.
“Yeah?” asked Crystal, with a raised eyebrow, “remember this?”
Crystal dropped the body onto the coffee table, which caused Kimberly to jump slightly from her half-sitting-half-fetal-position on the couch. Kimberly maintained her composure, as she finished eating her last chip, but her voice betrayed a nervousness that wasn’t fooling anyone.
“His name was Justin, b-by the way,” Kimberly started, “he, he was studying business and liked video games. He was actually…”
“Shut up,” Crystal interrupted.
“Seriously, what the fuck is your deal, lately?” Crystal asked, her voice rising into a shout, “you know he was mine, right!?”
“W-well,” Kimberly whimpered, “I didn’t take his blood. You can still drink him, right?”
“It’s dried blood, Kim,” said Crystal, speaking slowly as if to a small child. She even lifted one of the limp arms of the corpse and shook it for emphasis as she spoke, “you think I can drink this shit? I need fresh blood! You don’t fuck corpses, do you?”
“I was just…”
“What was going to be our rule?” Crystal asked, though at this point the ask sounded more like a demand.
“Please, Crystal,” Kimberly pleaded, “I was soooo fucking hungry today!”
“THE RULE!” Crystal shouted.
Kimberly looked back at the T.V and took a deep breath before exhaling the longest sigh Crystal had heard from Kimberly thus far.
“Any food that’s being kept in our bedrooms is to be off limits to the other room mate,” Kimberly stated, repeating the vow verbatim.
“Yeah,” said Crystal, nodding, “this is third time you’ve done this to me. You know how hard I had to look? How many nights I wasted trying to find a guy like this?”
“I’m just…” Kimberly tried to speak, but Crystal was having none of it tonight.
“I’ll tell you!” Crystal interrupted, shouting over her room mate, “I had to go to some shitty night club. One of the few in this godforsaken college town, by the way. I had to listen to shitty techno music, while pretending to enjoy shitty drinks, and act like I’m having a good time with shitty twenty-somethings. All this bullshit so I can find myself a fucking human specimen worth taking home with me, because I’m starving as fuck!”
“But, you look like a twenty-something, anyway,” countered Kimberly, “what’s the difference?”
“Kim, I’m forty-fucking-five,” Crystal responded, dead-pan, “doesn’t matter that I got turned at twenty-two and haven’t aged since. You know I can’t stand their music. Fuck I even got a gaming PC to keep these boys occupied while I sleep during the day. Do I look like a gamer to you?”
Kim didn’t have anything to say about that.
Crystal sighed and planted herself on the couch next to Kimberly. She looked at the corpse as a wave of depressive resignation washed over her.
“You didn’t even get rid of the body…” said Crystal.
Kimberly looked down, ashamed at what she had done and quietly placed her bag of chips down on the floor.
“You’ve never had this problem before,” said Crystal, “I know you’re not the dumb slut you pretend to be to snare guys. What’s going on?”
Kimberly looked up at Crystal and looked back at the T.V. To Crystal’s surprise, Kimberly was starting to tear up. Kim bit down on her lip to fight the tears, but she soon exploded into a full on sob. It was the ugly kind of crying that was a rare thing for a demon to do. Crystal had never felt more uncomfortable in her unlife than she did right now.
“Oh no…” Crystal was not equipped for this right now.
“He broke up with me!” Kimberly wailed.
Crystal tried to think for a moment about who Kim was talking about.
“Lazerus…?” Crystal asked.
“Yes!” screamed Kimberly, “that piece of shit! That fucking demon man whore dumped me!”
Kimberly resumed her crying while Crystal turned away and allowed herself to get hit by the pain and guilt she had allowed herself to get mixed up in. Kim always had her ways of making Crystal feel like a total bitch.
It’s official: I’m trapped.
I built this time machine so that I could see into the future. What I didn’t realize was that somewhere between 2018 and 2100, Earth had gone full blown Terminator and the robots actually did kill us all!
I barely got into my time capsule before one of the machine hunter killer spheres managed to laser off a piece of my arm and the part of the controls that would have allowed me to go back in time and warn everybody about the robot overlord apocalypse.
So now I’m in this time capsule, just going forward into time because it can’t go anywhere else (it was either that or get killed by the robots), and I’m bleeding to death. I’ve thought about just stopping the time machine all together, but the machines have started building a city around me and it’s a 1,000 years so far. Doesn’t look like I’ll have any easy out before I die in here from blood loss. I’m writing this because maybe someday somebody will find this note and know that humans were able to at least time travel before their toasters decided killing us was a more viable option to combat global warming besides another carbon tax.
I’m looking at the the world around my pod and I’m seeing night and day more like some freaky time lapse video. For every thirty seconds that I’m in here one year passes by. Maybe I’ll make it long enough to see the sun turn into a red dwarf and swallow up the Earth as it dies, taking the killer machines along with it.
Kinda wish I could stick around to see the end of the universe, but I don’t know if I’ll live that long.
Lenard Tillerson, CEO of Straten Finance, had until mid night to get out of this with his life and finances intact. The hostile take over of his company started at 10a.m that morning when his rival, Nathan Rivers, of Contingency Capital, started buying up his stock at double the price from anyone willing to sell it. To Mr. Tillerson’s frustration, there had been a ton of defectors that didn’t mind getting bought out. However, Tillerson still owned fifty-one percent of his company via stocks.
By mid day, when it became clear Nathan couldn’t buy his way into owning Straten Finance the word “hostile” in hostile takeover began to take a more literal meaning. Men and women in black trench coats and carrying automatic weapons stormed the lobby of Straten Finance and had gotten themselves into a fire fight with Tillerson’s security team. It was another bid by Rivers to take out Tillerson. The attempt itself should have been against the law, but somehow Contingency Capital’s legal team was putting Tillerson’s lawyers and the Feds through the ringer in the form of convoluted precedents that kept this bloodbath going. Apparently, this corporate war would continue until such time that the courts decided it was illegal for a corporation to use lethal force in order to acquire another.
By 6 p.m it have become a stalemate: both legally and militarily. It was then that Tillerson got a phone call:
“Fuck you, Nathan!” Mr. Tillerson screamed into his phone, “what the fuck are you doing!? You’ve gone completely psychotic!”
“The difference between genius and insanity is only measured by success and failure, my friend,” responded Mr. Rivers calmly, “and right now, I’m fucking Albert Einstein.”
“So this is it then?” asked Mr. Tillerson, sounding completely dumbfounded, “you’re just going to continue this fucked up campaign of yours? If you keep this up, Nathan, you’ll destroy the reputation of Wall Street. We’ll be no different than warloads!”
“Oh please, what’s to ruin?” scoffed Mr. Rivers, “If people really gave a shit somebody would have stopped us by now. Nobody cares what rich fucks like us do anymore, just as long as we leave everyone else alone.”
“And you’re satisfied with that?” asked Mr. Tillerson.
“Not really,” said Mr. Rivers, “I wanted to surprise you with this one, but according to my lawyers they’re insisting that I give you a heads up.”
“Oh, Jesus, what now?” asked the now exacerbated Tillerson, while succumbing to a bit of gallows humor, “you’re going to drop a fucking bomb on my building?”
“Nope, I’m summoning a demon,” Mr. Rivers responded dryly.
Tillerson took a long pause and looked out the window of his office high rise before leaning his head against the glass. His sense of reality was beginning to slip.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” said Tillerson.
“Dead serious, actually,” answered Rivers, “most humans aren’t supposed to know about this, but you can summon a demon to grant you a wish. I can’t seem to buy you or kill you, so I’m just going to have to wish you away. It’s this whole ritual by some wizard, or whatever. He’s concocting it. A friend of a friend, really. Anyway, he set this whole thing up for me. We got all this satanic shit in my office right now that’s being set up…”
At this point Tillerson could barely hear himself think, much less talk as he listened to Rivers continue:
“…and I have to warn you as part of some legal thing. The wizard and my lawyers told me to.”
Tillerson cleared his throat and asked the obvious question:
“Nathan, why are you doing this?”
“If I take you out I’ll control the majority of the market you and I have been competing over for years,” answered Rivers, “and I plan on winning by any means necessary.”
Tillerson, despite wanting to call Rivers a fucking lunatic, found that he couldn’t muster the energy or the logic to argue Rivers point. It would’ve been futile anyway.
“So, nothing personal,” continued Rivers, “it’s just business. You have until mid night, guy. Later!”
The phone went silent after that.
Tillerson took a few moments to get his barrings before thinking of a plan. Nathan wasn’t the only one who knew about demon summoning. What Nathan didn’t know was that Lenard was a black mage as well. And while Nathan may have hired some wizard to do his dirty work for him, Lenard could pull off the same ritual without outsourcing. Nathan was always an idiot that had more money than education, Lenard thought. Lenard scrambled to his safe next to his desk to pull out his book of spells. The demon summoning ritual would take awhile if it was just him and from the way Nathan sounded over the phone, Lenard didn’t have a lot of time.