Malcolm Larsson and the Lure of EvilMature

            I need someone to talk to about all this! A lanky young man, with dirty blond hair, crept down the hall of the east wing of a dormitory building - a girl's wing. With each step, his bare feet hit a dusty tiled floor, swaying his baggy jeans. He heard footsteps coming, and quickly darted into an empty bathroom.

            He saw the demon in the vanity mirror, staring at him with a finger on her lips, fangs pointing over her upper lip. Not you. I need someone else. She smiled toothlessly at him, moving her hand down to rest upon her generous cleavage, and then faded.

            The footsteps passed, outside the door and she returned. But Mal was no longer paying attention to the mirror. Slowly, he pushed the door open and saw the quiet form of Mr. Bessant walking down the hall on nightly patrol. The old man, not even a professor, was humming off-key. It was forebodingly dissonant.

            The demon watched wordlessly from the mirror as Mal slipped back into the hall. It was dimly lit, with only the lights under doors of students pulling all-nighters or trying to party quietly - as they would be doing loudly if it were not for the special security of the night. Everyone was scared, after the abduction. And news traveled fast.

            Mal kept walking, quietly, hoping he would not have to do anything he'd regret to Mr. Bessant. He kept walking, and counted the numbers on the doors. And the old man, now far down the hall, never turned around.

            A brown metal door, soundproof, with the number 319. That's it. Melanie and Mildred. He tapped his knuckles on the door quietly.

            A ghostly pale face with black eye-shadow peered out as the door opened. She had curtains of jet black hair, and a piercing on each eyebrow. An eccentric smile, with tongue hanging out, greeted Mal with a full display of a metal skull pierced in the girl's tongue. Its eyes gleamed with rubies.

            "What brings you to my door at this hour, my dear?" Mildred had an amused look on her face, savoring the moment.

            "I'm not one to kiss and tell," Mal told her, "But I'm not one to fuck and shut-up, either."

            The goth giggled quietly with glee, and ushered him inside. Her contact lenses gave her eyes a creepy red stare. And as she closed the door, Mal admired her black fingernails. She grinned, "Painted them today, did Hoban's too."

            Hoban, Mal thought. She's lucky to have him.

            Mildred moved to her bed, where a black cat was lounging. She sat down on the edge, patting the spot beside her.

            Mal had not been in Mildred and Melanie's dormitory in a while. It was quite the intriguing room. Melanie had one side of the room and Mildred had the other. It was day and night.

            Melanie's was papered with bright, flowery wallpaper and posters of boy bands, a unicorn and a Lord of The Rings poster of Orlando Bloom.

            Mildred, however, had left the walls bare, a solid dark red. And dark posters of numerous bands, that Mal had never heard of, covered the wall. Heavy metal. Emo bands. Gothic stuff. All, a disorienting variety of contemporary stuff. And her sketches, dark and dreary, clung to the walls with ominous creatures.

            Amazed at the decor, Mal sat down beside her.

            "So, you fucked your fag-stag?"

            Mal grinned.

            "C'mon, Mal, out with it! Brittany wouldn't tell Melanie anything, so she says. Said it was private. If you ask me, she didn't enjoy it. Perhaps Joe's better suited to men."

            "Milly, where's Melanie?"

            "She came back from the party when I did, got questioned, and now she's out helping them search for Brittany. Said she met Brit's sis, nice gal."

            The feline stood up and looked at Mal curiously.

            "Does your cat have a name?"

            "Oh, my familiar?" she grinned, adjusting her gray corset and black denim skirt. "No, no, he doesn't. He's just a host, anyways."

            Normally, I assume she's kiddin' with this stuff. Mal cautiously feigned interest, "A host?"

            "Yeah. A familiar. My demon companion. I'm a witch, Mal."

            This is why Joe said she was crazy. Perhaps he's a bit ignorant on this, Mal looked at her, "Try me."


            "Focus, Milly. Remember that time in the cafeteria when you read my aura? Do it again." I want answers.

            Glad she was, for once, being taken seriously by her classmates, Mildred closed her eyes and reached a hand toward Mal. In her mind's eye, she read his body, scanning over his aura with her hand.

            She claims she's got therapeutic touch, Mal remembered. Let's see just how far she can--

            "Mal, I feel a void around you. Darkness. Perhaps death. Trauma or grief. At the very least, it could be emotional distance. What on earth happened?" Mildred had now taken a strong interest in things, and lay back against her pillows, eagerly awaiting an intriguing story.

            "Well, Joe stopped playing around, and things got serious. I guess he wasn't getting any from Brittany. I mean, I haven't seen them together in two weeks."

            Mildred nodded, as she pet the cat beside her. Her eerie red gaze looked straight into Mal's eyes where he sat at the other end of the bed.

            "Well, I caught him watching some porn. And he started groping my chest. It was fabulous, Milly. His arms were like fire upon me. Now I know what you were talking about - that feeling where everything seems to feel more profound. Like every sensation, even mild pain, is so endearing."

            "C'mon, hot stuff, how big is he?"

            "Hey, now, Milly. I don't believe in putting a number to a man! It's impersonal. And besides, it all depends what side you measure. Let's just say, he's bigger than I am."

            She laughed, noticing the bulge in Mal's jeans, "And how big is that?"

            "None of your business," Mal smiled and then continued, "Anyways, you know that magician stuff Joe's into? Those party tricks and whatnot?"

            "Yeah, pretty neat illusions. But it is all smoke and mirrors."

            "Well, he came onto me with his whole costume on. And, remember those kerchiefs he got Hoban to pull out of his sleeve in the caf?"

            Milly smiled at the mention of her boyfriend, "Yup."

            "Well, I pulled those out - five strands. And tied the bastard up between his bedposts. Made him my bitch, Milly."

            She was shocked, "Never figured you were the dominant type, Malcolm."

            "Heh, I guess I surprise even myself sometimes. And I tied the fifth one around his cock, under the balls. Oh, it was awesome."

            Milly laughed, "Wow, I should try that with Hoban sometime. Tie him up for a change." She winked.

            Mal laughed, "Yeah, well, I fucked him up the ass pretty damn hard, Milly. He was bleeding when I was done with him."

            There was a smugly morbid look on her pale face, "Nice one, Mal."

            "Yeah, I reckon he'll want more tonight."

            She sniffed the air, "You must have got quite the workout. You smell rank."

            Mal smiled sheepishly, "Oh, sorry. Maybe I should take a shower."

            Mildred pointed at the door in the corner of her room, where there was an en-suite bathroom. After all, it was a school for the rich. "As long as you keep talking to me, you can use mine."

            The cat meowed, stretched itself, and curled up again - now on Mildred's lap. And as Mal began to strip down in front of her, Mildred took out her sketchbook and placed it in front of her folded legs.

            And from the bathroom mirror, the demon stared out at the room. Its gaze fell intently upon the black cat curled in Mildred's lap. And Mal ignored the demon, as he pulled the last bit of clothing off his sweaty body. His boxers came off last, sewn of the Larsson tartan, over Mal's bulging loins. The bathroom door was wide open. Mal, his back towards her, asked hesitantly, "You sure Hoban is okay with this?"

           "Oh, he knows I'm a bit of a fag-hag. No worries, Mal. Hoban's a bit of a polyamorist himself."

           Strange, Mal thought. He turned the tap, and water began to fill the tub. He looked over at the mirror, Go away, vile succubus.

            "I see we have quite the pretty visitor," Milly said as she looked across Melanie's side of the room and into the bathroom where she could see the demon in the mirror. She stated it so matter-of-factly, that Mal was a little disconcerted as he ran the bath water, filling the bath with bubbling warm water.

            You can't ignore your powers forever, Mal. Feel the lure of it. Feel the temptation. You are young, surely your lust has not dissipated so early in the night!

            The black cat got up from Mildred's lap and walked across the bed, tail tossing from side to side. Then it ran. It darted across the bright and cheery side of the room, into the bathroom, onto the toilet, jumped onto the sink and stared at the mirror.

            "I see you've found a mate," Mildred observed, her hand darting about the page. A flurry of graphite sped across the page of her sketchbook.

            Mal stared strangely at the shadowy cat, and suddenly he noticed that the demon was distracted by it. It no longer bothered him, hissing in his ear, plying at his inadequacies. He lowed himself into the bath water, his body sheathed in white bubbles that smelled of soothing herbs. He'd poured something from Melanie's supply of bubble bath gels into the water, it was heavenly.

            "Keep talking, Mal," Mildred said, intruding upon his relaxation. "Tell me exactly what it was like."

The End

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