Page 37 of Beauty's Monstrous Demons

SAMAEL

This club is a damn excuse to watch porn. As I’m a fear demon and not sex driven, I watch Lorelei work. I’m amused by how hard she’s trying not to watch what’s happening around her.

Is she turned on?

I’m hanging out above her in my mist form, making sure she’s doing well, but since I can’t smell her scent in an overwhelming sense, she must be fine. Allowing her to work, Ishift outside of the club looking for a monster or human to scare. It typically doesn’t matter as all fear tastes good to me.

It’s not Lorelei, but it’ll do. I haven’t fed since last week in the library. I snacked a bit from her fear when I flipped her upside down and she screamed like a pretty little siren, but nothing since.

I’m flirting with a theory that’s slightly terrifying, and I need to prove it one way or another before I can decide what to do.

Fuck, fuck, fuck stick on a dick!

My vision narrows as I see a female walking quickly away from a bar down the road. I force wind to blow the leaves around her, influence a man to step out of an alley just as she walks past to startle her, and it all works. However, it doesn't move my meter at all and I’m starving.

Moving around the area, I scare the fuck out of thirteen people, but my internal energy level remains low. I’m not working on fumes by any means, because that’s dangerous. I could scare someone to death if I’m not careful, lock them in their minds with the horrors moving on a loop.

I’m not only a fear demon, I can implant ideas into people's minds, find their worst nightmares and make creatures and people believe them to be true. In fact, I have done this, I cut my teeth in hell making people relive their worst moment to fuel the fires of my past home.

I don’t want to be that type of demon anymore, which is why I left so many years ago. It took me years to get my powers under control, I left entire villages devoid of life because I scared them to death. I know my limits, but if Lorelei is now the only creature I can feed from, it’s going to fucking test every one.

Frustrated, I return to the club, watching her as she finishes her shift. Everyone is polite, and I notice that they also tip her well. When there’s this much skin showing everywhere else, Lorelei and her counterpart behind the bar are less tempting.

I appreciate it, because breaking a patron's fingers on her first night at work isn’t something I want to do if I don’t have to. Lorelei looks around as if looking for me before shrugging and tipping herself out at the end of the night.

She should know better than to believe that I would leave her. In fact, I’m going to be hard pressed not to lurk around here every night that she works. The bouncers all seem to be doing their jobs, and the dancers are pulling in their money between private dances and “extras.”

I’m not going to shame anyone, I think that they’re making good money and their patrons are happy. No one seems to be forcing anyone to do anything, either. Though the shifter having that female suck his dick has a pretty tight hold on her hair.

The sounds of her gagging have me wince internally as I follow Lorelei out to the parking lot. Smirking, I fill her with dread as she walks, watching as she runs her hands over her skin as it pebbles with goosebumps. Fuck, her fear tastes like the finest drug, absolutely addicting.

I make her believe she hears heavy boots behind her, and that they’re following her. Groaning inaudibly, I enjoy the way her breaths hitch and her footsteps move faster. Having received the feedback I needed for my theory, I release her from my tender ministrations, slipping inside of Bertie before fully materializing so I can adjust my cock.

Lorelei opens the door as she rushes inside to sit, screaming when she sees me.

“Fuck, Samael, you need a bell,” she gasps, her breaths harsh and her chest heaving. “Was that your handiwork back there?”

“Yeah,” I say, pouting. “I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”

“Well that sounds ominous," she mutters, closing the door behind her as she pulls her left leg fully into the car. Lorelei hadended up half sprawled across the seat in her terror, and it was adorable.

“It depends on how you look at it,” I say. “So which do you want to hear first?”

“Let me get Bertie to turn over, and then you can give me the bad news first, Samael,” she says lightly, sticking the key into the ignition.

Her messenger bag is still across her body along with her jacket, her breathing trying to regulate as her heartbeat races with the fear response that was flooding her system. Interestingly enough, her residual fear continues to feed me, allowing me to feel content. While I’m not completely full, I’m feeling good.

Fuck, I even feel as if I could curl up with her and actually sleep, something I didn’t think I could do. Instead, I watch her sleep.

Lorelei is something special alright.

Bertie coughs twice before agreeing to turn over for Lorelei. She’s really going to need a new car soon. I understand her worry about finances, but I wonder if I could buy her a car and pretend that I don’t use it enough because of how I tend to float to where I need to go.

I have no need to pretend to be someone I’m not, but I am sneaky enough to buy a super safe vehicle and then tell my girl that I need her to drive it around for me so the battery won’t die. It doesn’t matter that I have no clue how to drive. Yep, I think that’s how I’m going to send Bertie into her retirement.

“Now,” Lorelei murmurs, putting her car into reverse and making sure the headlights are on.

That’s the other terrifying part about this death trap! It’s very difficult to know whether or not the headlights are on because of how muted they are. The glass is yellowed with age and rust.Don’t even get me started on all the difficulties old Bertie is having.

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