Confessions of an Incubus Hunter

I hate killing. I know that might sound obvious and over said, but it’s really true for someone who spends a good 8 hours a day killing, learning how to kill, and tracking kills. Most kids would say they hate school. Most kids would say that hating school might sound over said and obvious because they go there eight hours a day; don’t get me wrong, I hate school too, but I hate killing more.

It’s not like I've been killing humans, I mean, I've thought about it (not that I would ever really, in even the most aggravating circumstance, actually move a muscle to do it), but I kill Incubi and Succubi. I hate killing Incubi and Succubi  it’s not like they don’t have feelings too. I mean, usually they’re pretty evil, but they still have feelings. For those of you who don’t know, an incubus or a succubus is a male or female demon who “lies upon people to have sexual relations with them while they sleep”. There’s some freaky, terrifying, demonic fun.

While I do happen to go around killing Incubi, I kind of don’t know anything about them. Except that a certain one who I didn't kill, is really good in bed.

They say if you sleep with an Incubus repeatedly, it will lead to your death. Sometimes I think I wouldn't mind that because I kind of doubt I was still be dealing with all this killing if I was dead. But I’m not dead. No, I am currently under the sheets in my bed with a sleeping Incubus named Dante, whose head is in my lap.

A couple nights ago we were sitting, just like this, except we were both awake. He looked up at me and played with my fingers. “So.  . . can you tell me again, um, do you, like, kill Succubi too? Or is just dudes?” he asked.

“Both.” I hoped we could get off this subject soon and he would decide that running out to get five bags of Doritos again at 1:57 AM to see who could eat more, was a good idea. Even that, which did not end too well, would be better than talking about how I kill his species.

“Oh, okay, so like, if you wanted to you could track a Succubus and kill her for me?” he looked up at me with his beautiful, sexy, Incubus eyes. “Please?” He tried to pull puppy dog eyes.

I laughed. He scowled and I suppose I should’ve felt bad, it’s just that feeling bad doesn't come naturally. I ran my hand through his hair and kissed him.

“What’s so funny? Is it too much to ask you to kill my ex? Am I not allowed to do that?” he lifted his head. “Are you not allowed to kill someone another Incubus told you to kill? ‘Cause if you aren't  then I take it back.”

“Dante, we've been dating for seven, six, no seven, months. I think we've already broken enough rules that we can find ways around breaking more,” I said as he sat up and rested his head on my shoulder.

I know what you’re thinking, and I would like to tell you to please shut up. You would fall for an Incubus too if he was crying when you met him and was wearing a shirt to save the whales. Even if you were totally sure he didn't actually care about whales (he does, by the way) and you felt your heart tug at the thought of having to kill him. And, let’s face, if the night you met him all of that happened and you had finally just gotten so sick of killing, I promise you would've fallen for him too.

“Right, but can you? I mean, if you want.” Dante looked to me, making sure I wasn't going to suddenly decide our relationship and his life was over for bringing up killing. He knew I hated it and he wasn't such a big fan either.

“You’re saying that if I want to, I can kill your ex-girlfriend because–”

A crash through my window and glass breaking to the floor interrupted me. We leaped out of bed, pulled on some clothes (I was pretty sure I grabbed his pants instead of mine) and rushed to my weapons chest.

“Is that your ex?” I asked Dante, handing him a bow and a pack of arrows.

“Maybe it is.” He sounded pretty guilty.

“Is that why you want me to kill her?” I surveyed the window, stepping back as something was thrown inside and watched as Dante shot an arrow out. He was just in his sexy black underwear.

“Yes, most definitely.” Dante nodded, looking over the damage. He was still tense, even though we both could sense she was gone.

I sighed and looked at the object thrown in, letting out my breath in relief that it wasn't a bomb of any sort. Instead it was nipple clamp holding a note. What an upgrade; it was definitely from a Succubus by the looks of it. And not of the high class variety, judging from the stench of her perfume and her window breakage. I opened the clamp and released the paper, looking at the note:

Dearest Hunter:

Prepare to die, bitch.

xxxx

I held up the note for Dante to read. He let out a sigh and looked down at the ground, probably wishing for a vortex to swallow him whole. He looked back at me, cracking a smile.

“You’re wearing my pants.”