Witching Hour

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Although she was having fun with her fellow denizens the past few month, Samantha was starting to truly worry about her sisters on the outside. When she checked her phone, she found it had been three months since they last hanged out. Since that fateful night. That was more than enough time for even the most brutal of injuries to heal –for a witch, at least.

Maybe that’s why she found herself staring at her phone come Saturday, glued to it, a woman possessed. She pondered if she should send them a message, tell them that she was on her way or say anything at all –since they didn’t seem inclined to talk to her. OR... maybe she would simply... go. She needed closure, dammit! Whether it was them finally telling her, face-to-face, to fuck off or welcoming her with open arms or... whatever may have happened. It was Lilith that told her, after all. There was no telling how many half-lies and false-truths were sprinkled in, even if very little to begin with.

Why stop there, though? There were two others that she needed to confront. Why not make it a full night of fun? Ah, but Minos was making it a hassle. He would not go without a fight, having made a wall of spaghetti with chicken and mushroom Alfredo.

They sat in her kitchen, soft, soulful, instrumental music playing... from Bella’s room. Down the hall. The lights were “dimmed”, a few rows knocked out (literally) for the night. Minos cleaned them up well enough, and even covered it up with a few red drapes –courtesy of Monica. Of course... Samantha wanted to tell him that those curtains were the reason she hadn’t touched her meal, but that wasn’t true. It was her phone, her want to hang out with... anybody else that wasn’t down there that made her stomach twist and sour itself.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Minos mumbled, slurping down a noodle –a river of them, actually. There seemed to be no end to his sucking, gnashing, breaking them and gulping them down in one, fluid motion... Jack would be so proud of him. He cleansed and washed it away with one of her wine-coolers, a blackberry-melon blend that, with its very scent, made her cheeks green. He waved it her way, wafting that smell more towards her, grimacing. “I take it you don’t like spaghetti... Hello? McFly? You in there?”

“Huh?” Samantha uttered at last, and put away her cell, shaking her head –a bit too quick, tasting bile as a warning belch slipped into her cheeks. She hid it behind a cough, covering her mouth with her finest of paper napkins. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I was about to say I was going to need to build a time machine to get you back, but if it’s about our kids, don’t worry. They’ll be fine; all sixty-seven of them.”

“I mean, anything above one is already bullshit. Unless you want one of the others to knock me up for you-”

“Fuck. That. I ain’t into cuckolding. Bad enough you sleep with Monica; I ain’t raising another man’s baby.”

“My body my choice.”

“My penis my choice.”

“So? You act as though you are the only one with a dick around here. Hell, Monica has a catalog to choose from.”

“Then go fuck her again.”

“Maybe I will!”

“No you won’t.”

“You’re right I won’t.” She gave him an evil look as he chortled, lost to another sip of that fruity abomination. “I can’t believe you can stomach that flavor.”

“I really can’t. It’s absolutely shit.”

“Then why are you drinking it!”

“Because I need to get buzzed somehow.”

“Why not some whiskey? We can get plenty of whiskey.”

“I said buzzed, not disarmed for the night. Besides, you know I’m a better fuck drunk.”

Unfortunately, she found that out the hard way. Her rear still ached from the night before, remembering how he finished with one hole just to start to pound the other. She knew she hadn’t put anything in there for a while, but... damn. At least she was thankful it still had some muscle memory, had relaxed for his member to drill all the way in –a boon she did not have with the other hole... though enjoyed it far more in it. A curse, to be a thrall to passion, but at least she knew she wasn’t expecting to have a cow any time soon. Not a literal one, at least. Minos fetched the documents from Junmei’s room sometime during the week, and she was simply waiting for that can of worms to be opened. Bigger fish, though. Bigger fish.

Minos cleared his throat, pulling her back to the table, away from the sea of thought she had started to sail across. Again.

“I’m tempted to go get a rope and tie it around you,” he said. “If you keep drifting off into space like that, you are going to end up in a black hole.”

“Better to be in one than have two.”

“You loved it and you know it.”

She scoffed, but the way her mouth twinged, no matter how hard she tried to scowl, only made her cheeks redder and him all the more right. Her chair screeched as she stood, thighs trembling, reminded of the force that had thundered into them and feeling the aftershocks. It pushed to the front of her mind, how he had bent her over the bed and reduced her to a whimpering animal in heat... but now was not time for that... Though, there would always be when she got back.

“I’m going out tonight.” Samantha stated. At last. “I need answers. It’s been a long time coming, but I can’t simply hope for my phone to be answered out of the blue... Why are you looking at it?”

“You never know... Could be right... about... now... Any minute now... Any minute... Yes.”

She rolled her eyes as she picked it up and trudged into the living room. She picked up her orange-and-cream striped tee, thankful that most pre-dinner shots were on the cream, then pulled up her black sweat pants once more, left in a crumpled pile at the bottom of the bed. The sheets had dulled to a rank stench of his love, the purple fabric splattered in places almost blue, hidden under Minos as he reclined on it. He was still only in that apron, the front rising again, trying to raise the flag for her to stop.

“Must it really ruin date night, though?” He said, shaking his head as he watched her bend over for her shoes. “I mean, couldn’t you do it tomorrow?”

“You just want to fuck me again.”

“And cuddle... and fuck... oh, and movies. While we fuck.”

“It’s always about sex with you, isn’t it?”

“You’re right, miss serial killer. We should do some of your hobbies. I volunteer Monica; she’s the oldest, and the whore. They always die first.”

“But Junmei, Marcy, and Buffy already have.”

“The nerd, the party girl, and the... what would we classify Buffy as?”

“By what?”

“You know... the slasher cliches.”

“This isn’t a movie, Minos.”

“Ah, but it could be! Think they call it snuff?”

“... How about you find some movies for us to watch when I get back, and I may allow you to fuck me. Even if I pass out.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

“You can’t make me scream all the time.”

“Wanna bet?”

She rolled her eyes one more time... but turned around, giving him a kiss. Her left palm was flat against his chest, firm, while her right arm shook, wanting to wrap, to embrace him, to melt into his embrace, made tougher with each passing moment their lips touched. He started to reach out, his hand just hovering over her shoulder- but she managed to push away, heading for the door. She shut the door as quick as she could, lest she lunge back through as it lazed behind and into his arms, but she had to keep focused. She couldn’t be a horny teenager all the time... only some, and this was not it. So she trotted down the steps, her grimacing darkening with each, ringing thud, and almost jumped out of her skin as Peter stopped her halfway.

“H-hey,” he said. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking why you are out? It’s getting awful late.”

That’s not the real wonder she had in mind. Due to her... condition, she didn’t have the chance to really talk to him. In fact, he avoided her all the way up to Friday, and now, here he was, out and about- and wondering why she was? The way his eyes shuddered, trying to stay shut, and how he clawed at his arms, digging deep, red grooves into them, didn’t bode well, either.

“Are you all right?” Samantha said, reaching out for his arm.

He snarled, and leaped back off the steps, avoiding her touch altogether.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and turned around. He rushed to his room, thundering shut... Without a shadow of a doubt, Samantha decided to declare that weird, that it needed to be looked into as soon as she cared, but it wasn’t the time for that. Again, bigger fish. Bigger fish...

The Halls rumbled shut behind her, and she dashed through the undercroft, up into the school, and down its grand staircase. For being March, it was awfully warm. Especially for West Virginia. The state usually didn’t see the end of snow until April. If lucky. Even then, there was the occasional flurry into July, but her breath didn’t even mist that night. No dew gleamed on the grass nor on the street, walking along it to the apartments. It was a quiet night, no cars to be heard nor seen in that city, as if being the holidays cut any life it had.

She walked the four-lane highway, meandering across without a care, the only threat being the infamous ghost car that took a wrong turn away from the interstate above for a change of pace so long ago... and even then it would have grown bored long before reaching her down below. The city was too dead even for the dead, but, if she had to raise a little Hell to get answers, then the dead shall rise again.

There were three cars in the parking lot, thankfully. Three sedans, two of them very much the witches, but Samantha did not know who owned the powder blue one, parked in between. The concrete steps clunked underneath her shoes, climbing to the second level. She checked Bridget’s first, the closest, at the very end on the left side. She knocked on it- twice- thrice over, yet nobody came to the door... so she did what any good friend does and decided to let herself in. The smallest sliver of metal pushed between the latch and its hole, the dragon huffing that its tail was being used like such, but it swung open easily enough.

Revealing an empty apartment.

Samantha cocked her brow, entering. The tanned walls were warmed by her pale blue orb, rising as the dragon scurried up her arm, her very own parrot as she ventured into that cove. There was no booty, though. None whatsoever. There was no furniture nor amenity in the entire house. There were shadows of such, dust gathered where there used to be items, now simply memories, locked in time.

She left the apartment, making sure it was shut proper, and checked Lola’s next. It was but off to the right of the stairwell, down a flight of steps, and it, too, was barren. No anime, no manga, no cheesy kung-fu movies nor paraphernalia, with only the darkened edges of dust creating portraits of the rooms she once knew were her second and third homes. Her heart was already heavy, thoughts delving, descending into futility. Her legs barely had the strength to climb to the third level, to Tanya’s. Each step to the seventh door was like lead. She expected yet another empty apartment, another shadow to cast over her mind. It was reaching its event horizon, with no true answer waiting in its abyss. She raised to knock... but stopped, lowering it.

Why bother? Why torture myself like this? The answer was simple: they were gone. They left after the accident. Who could blame them? It would have been the safer solution than to stick around and wonder if something worse may be coming along... If Lilith was lying of course.

She heaved a heavy sigh, and her head thumped against the wooden door.

Hearing movement.

There were hushed voices, as well, quick, their hissings just reaching her through the timbers. They were followed by a pair of feet, padding quick on the carpet then tile. The door clicked, and swung open to show Lola. Naked.

“Yeah?” She said, snorting, and Samantha noticed that her eyes, her pupils, were dilated, taking up almost all of her... brown iris. “What do you want?”

“Lola? It’s me. Sam,” Samantha said, and didn’t realize how much she was shaking until her voice cracked. Tears fell down her cheeks, looking at the tanned weeb before her... an inch shorter than her. When she was once a foot taller. Samantha peeked over her shoulder, seeing Bridget and Tanya in the living room, huddled on a large, plush, purple couch. The lights were dimmed, giving it an almost crimson tone, but the long, glass pipe on the coffee table still held its gleam. Its basin was fogged, steamed by the water in it, hanging in the air, giving it a stagnant haze.

Lola moved in front of her gaze, giving Samantha a rather curt glare.

“Bitch, you have some nerve to gawk into my house,” she said. “Now, I don’t know any Sam, so you best be off.”

She started to shut the door, but Samantha put her foot in, wedging it.

“Wait. Please, Lola! I just want answers. Why have you been ignoring me? Why have you been ignoring my texts? Bridget and Tanya, too!”

“Now I know you be tripping. There ain’t nobody here named Tanya.”

“I think she’s talking about me,” ‘Tanya’ said, though her once whimsical, dreamy voice was gone, replaced with stone cold sobriety. With a hint of malice to it, as well. She stood from the couch, and lumbered into the entry, towering over both of them. Her rich, dark skin complemented her blonde hair, cut short and buzzed from the left side of her head. This close, Samantha could see that she had a lower lip piercing, a blue dolphin bursting out of a yellow crescent moon, the only mirth, the only joy to be seen in that heart-shaped face. There was no warmth in her deep, green eyes, glowering down on Samantha. “I’m Tina. Now, what are you doing here? Be honest.”

“I... I don’t know. Not anymore.”

“Are you a narc?” Lola blurted.

“What? No. Why would I narc on my coven?”

The mention of a coven made both Lola and “Tina” take a step back. Bridget cleared her throat, making them jump, as she hurried into the entry, as well. She was about the height that Samantha remembered, but her hazel eyes and strawberry blond hair seemed so out of place, clashing against her memories, now swirling, storming, fading into the black hole.

“I’m afraid you are mistaken,” she said, her once sultry southern bell accent gone to a Brooklyn bark. “Magic ain’t r-”

Samantha held up her left hand, igniting with light. The dragon stirred from her shoulder, rising, lazing towards that orb of light as metal unfurled from her digits. The wind picked up around her, now holding some of the West Virginia bite, sent into their apartment. It howled through it, whipping open cabinets, drawers, and doors. It rattled pots and pans and even knocked over their lovely green tube onto the carpet before it rebounded, settling as she lowered her hand... and yet the looks on their faces weren’t guilty recognition. They weren’t snarky guilt or even shock.

They were intrigued.

“A fourth witch?” Lola said, and groaned. “Why didn’t Lilith tell us we were getting a fourth? Hell yeah!”

“It’s a bit late in the semester, though,” Tina said, and shrugged. “At least this will give us time to bond.”

“Sounds about right,” Bridget said, and held out her hand to Samantha. “Nice to meet you –you said your name was Sam, yeah? Well, I’m Bridget, and these two blondos are Lola and Tina.”

“Stop calling her that,” Samantha blurted, hating herself for it. She shook her head, sniffling as she backed away. “No... none of this makes sense. Y... none of you even look the same.”

“Oh, great. It seems she’s been toking sooner than us,” Lola said, snickering, and wrapped an arm around Bridget. “She’ll fit in just fine... but, uh... Tell me, Sammy: Do you have an open mind?”

“What? What do you mean?”

She tittered, and kissed Bridget on the neck, making her shudder.

“Well, we’re a... free-loving coven.”

“W-what! But... but you said you would never go... I... I need to go. I’m sorry.”

“Hey! There’s no need to rush off. We have plenty of kush and snacks,” Bridget called after, but didn’t give chase, their mumblings lost as blood pulsed against Samantha’s ears. Her heart hammered in her chest, trying to keep up with her mind, fumbling, attempting to find where to even begin- well, maybe begin isn’t the proper place to start. Perhaps it was best to ponder where to go next. Maybe there she would find the answer she sought, something to give all of this some semblance of sense, and so she raced off towards Aya’s and Mahna’s.

The path to it was a haze, thicker than the mist in that apartment, mind still pulling that way. She could hear the wench, cranking away, stretching her further while the rest of her kept towards that mom-and-pop stop... but it all became clear. It all snapped at once as she reached the window of the shop, looking inside. The once-packed shelves, the modest yet varied choices of sweets, chips, and other, assorted necessities, have been stripped from the shelves, bare, showing off their aluminum skeletons. She stepped through the door, saw that all of the coolers were empty, no buzz to be heard, no light in any of them. The cash register was gone, the counter wiped clean, but it was who was missing rather than what that made her heart sink ever more.

“Hello?” She called out, echoing in the store. It bounded back, twice, thundering against. “A-Aya... Mahna? Are you here?”

She waited for an answer. She hoped, prayed for one, to hear a mumbled acknowledgment through the door behind the counter, to see movement behind the coolers... but no. There was nothing. She stormed out of the building, making the bell ring into the night, clanging so as she rounded the side of the building and climbed the stairs to the top... only pausing a moment to look back down. Mahna’s car was still there; there was some hope. She hammered on the door above the shop, thundering into apartment, and, once more, heard voices inside. This time, however, she could not afford to be patient. She opened it.

And saw Mahna still in Aya.

They were both staring at her. Aya’s legs were spread, held open on the kitchen table, with Mahna’s manhood buried all the way inside. Mahna paled, pulling out in one quick stroke, letting loose a thick, running mess that had been capped for so long across Aya’s front, and took a step towards Samantha. Tears wavered in his eyes, but those orbs had such a war raging behind them, matching her own. Fear, love, anger, confusion –so much confusion, all culminating into the perfect storm... and his weren’t much better. Aside letting her thighs go, Aya didn’t bother to move, simply laying back and seeing Samantha, and the world at that very moment, turned upside-down.

“S... Sam,” Mahna croaked at last, the war finally spilling out onto his face, contorting it into such ugly things as he reached out for her. “Is it really...”

“Y... you’re fucking your sister?” Samantha said, backing away from his clawing grasp... but chuckled. “You know, I always did say fuck her, but I didn’t mean it like this.”

“Oh. Shit. It really is you,” Aya said, and finally managed to roll off the table. She scurried over to Mahna’s arm, clinging to it, hiding behind as she simply looked Samantha over. “So I wasn’t going crazy. I really did see you.”

“You did... and I, sort of, took a few boxes of candy. Sorry, not sorry.”

“But... how can...” Mahna shook his head, and held up a finger. He wrenched Aya free from his arm, rushing back into the apartment, and Samantha saw that, aside the table, everything else was packed up, sitting pretty, waiting to be taken away. Aya looked down at her feet, grinding her left sole into the ground, seeming to shrink under Samantha’s gaze as they listened to him grumble and tear open boxes.

“So,” Samantha drawled, clearing her throat. “How are things?”

“Oh. Uh, good. Good... I guess an apology is in order?”

“I suppose so. I tried to get in contact.”

“You did. I just... Aside it being a different number, there was something... else.”

“My number was changed?” Samantha pulled out her cell, and Aya sauntered back to the table, picking up Mahna’s –cutting off the cheesy romantic music at last. Samantha sent a text... and, indeed, it was registering as an unknown number. “When did that happen!”

“Probably the same time that you... sort of... Well, I’m sorry. It turns out you were true to your word. You didn’t want to hurt Mahna.”

“Yeah, so you decided to fuck him and take my place.”

“It wasn’t like that! We... were both in a bad place. I... I blamed what happened that night on myself. Maybe, if I hadn’t been-”

“A bitch.”

“How many times are y... Well, it wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

“Damn right.” They shared a chuckle, but there was no true joy, no camaraderie, no compassion in it, only compounding the... awkwardness that had seeped in. As Mahna’s love still seeped into Aya’s chest. Samantha... cleared her throat again, waving her arms, dispelling some of it with soft claps –both; it splashed when Aya jumped, dribbling from her flaps onto the ground, as well. “So... what drives a person to fuck their sibling?”

“Anger, mostly. You know how we get when we get into a fight... And, well, we had a big one. Where he tore into me, said it was all my fault, and I told him it was his stupid fucking fault for falling for you, knowing it would only end badly. Then I promptly pushed him down on the bar... and the rest was... history... I mean, it doesn’t matter, anyways. We’re both sterile, and consenting adults. We both needed some release, and what better way than the person you hold most dear.”

“Usually that refers to someone not related by blood.”

“Love is love.”

She took Mahna’s arm as he returned. With a newspaper. He handed it over to Samantha, clearing his throat.

“There. You can keep it,” he said... and his hand trailed up her arm, touching her face. Tears blotted his eyes, his smile holding such sorrow as he caressed her cheek. “I’m just so happy to see you.”

“Okay. Me too. Now, why is everyone acting like I freakin’-” She began, turning the newspaper around as she did... and paled, as well. Her hands trembled, clawing at the paper, wind and metal seeping through against her best judgment, adding to the carnage shown on the front page, of the sedan they had been in that night... No. She... she needed to make a call before she fully unpacked this. Biggest fish.

Instead, she took a deep breath, held it, waited for the wind to die down, and folded the newspaper under her arm, clasping her hands together as she let it go.

“Well. This, actually, explains a fuckton,” she stated, the dragon circling the three. “I... I guess... thank you?”

“That... seems for the best,” Mahna said, hugging Aya tight against. “I’m sorry, Sam, but-”

“Yeah. I know. You finally got to live your fetish. Oh, but of course this means we’re through.” She winked at Aya, giggling, fighting back more tears, more sobs as she did. “You best take good care of him, otherwise I’ll hunt you down and haunt you.”

“At least I’ll know you’re really there so I can sock you in the teeth,” she said, sniffling. “You’re actually lucky. We were going to leave in the morning.”

“Leave? And go where?”

“Wherever we wanted,” Mahna said. “There’s a whole world to see... and... after all that has transpired in this town, I’d rather risk it out there.”

“A sisterfucker and a brotherfucker, out there against the world of motherfuckers,” Samantha said, spanning her hands before her. “Coming to a theater near you.”

“Well, no child-friendly ones that is,” Aya said. “We’re going to bang on every continent.”

“Hey... that sounds fun. Can I join... for old time’s sake?”

“I never got a chance, so I’m game.”

“What about me?” Mahna said.

“Well, of course. It can’t be a threesome without you.”

They shared one last laugh... and Samantha gave each of them a kiss on the cheek before trudging down the stairs. It continued on the road, a long, lonely road, all the way back to the Academy. Even with the dragon there, she never felt so alone. She had some answers, but even those made her numb, gone beyond the event horizon. She was a walking husk through the undercroft, a zombie going through the motions, whether she wanted to or not. She wound her way through that maze, her feet knowing where to go even if her mind would not tell, shuffling towards her Halls, to her own, personal crypt.

The door only just shutting.

Samantha heaved a heavy sigh. Of course it was.

“Come on, Lilith. Make my day,” she grumbled, sliding her card through the reader, allowing her to shamble in. A door hammered shut at the far end of the hall, her fury growing, wanting, needing it to be that succubus. She had a lot to unload, and why not do it raw? Return the favor, as it was.

Samantha stormed down the hall, holding up the newspaper, wind shrieking and ripping at it while the metal under her feet rose after her tirade. The metal above dripped, hissing down, glowing red hot as the flames from the dragon rose, swirling with the storm that came with her.

“Well?” She shrieked, like thunder, running deep in that place. “Come on! Let’s do this, you fucking bitch! You think you can ruin my life like this, lock me away, take away all that I have without me finding out? Let’s do this! Here and now!”

She reached the end... but found no doors opened. No sign of anything disturbed. Not a single soul to be had that night... Samantha growled, wanting to rise to a scream as she clawed at her head, storming back down the hall and stopping before Junmei’s room. Making its door ring with her fist. She hammered it, letting it echo and resonate through the hall, bending in as she continued, showing no mercy. Blood splattered on the ground, raining from her knuckles, broken, battered. Flesh and muscle were eaten away by the wind shrieking around, tearing at the door... but she finally let it go once more, let it heal as she leaned against it. Her heart returned to its depths again, sinking deeper than her stomach into the pits of despair, so why not go the extra mile? Why not sate her sadism, as well?

She opened Junmei’s room, and walked in.

Everything had been left as it was all those months ago, with only the filing cabinet beside the desk disturbed. There was a thick layer of dust on it all, billowing a little around her feet, trying so hard to fill Minos’s footsteps in the dust. She wiped her hand against the desk, soft light glowing on her palm, seeing the amount of doodles and etches carved into the old oak. How many mistakes he had made... how many he tried to fix only to run out of room and end up marring the desk, giving it his personality. Now gone, stolen with a single shot... She cocked her head as she reached the end of the desk, where there were a row of phials. Cleaned. Pristine. Not a bit of dust on them.

“How-” She began, and jumped as a scream pierced through the hall.

“Please!” It said, high, shrill. Young. “Don’t!”

Samantha patted her chest, her heart easing away from its cage, out of her throat as she wheeled. That didn’t sound like anyone from down here; could it have been-

“Stop! Who are you! Where am I! Help! Someone!”

Samantha ran out of Junmei’s room, and saw Peter’s was open. A woman was hanging out it, writhing and clawing at the door frame. Her nails were painted, clashing against the metal. Those green tips matched the hues and strands weaved in her blonde hair, cut short. Her breasts bounced, unhindered by any cloth, matching the rest of her. The only thing that did cover was dirt... and dried blood.

She looked at Samantha, pleading, begging her... but Peter would have none of that.

He appeared behind the girl, his eyes open. Fully. They were no longer red but pure, glittering black. His teeth were bared, their tips, unlike normal Fangs, jagged, and looped over each other, snaring her shoulder in their maze with one, sickening chomp. The girl screamed, shrieked, yet was dulled by the crack of bone –and it wasn’t his teeth. She clawed harder into the door, bringing blood from their tips as it rained down her front, but it was for naught. Her tips were left in the door, torn away as a splash of blood sprayed across the floor. He rose; his jaw creaked, and opened wider. She saw snakes in shows before widen their traps to obscene levels, but he put them to shame. His black eyes rolled back into his head.

And he bit again. Through her middle this time.

All screams, all gags, all gurgles were lost as blood froth and spilled from the girls lips, forgotten as she was lazed back into his lair. And the door shut.

Samantha... Samantha calmly, steadily, quietly rushedbacktoherroom! Her heart raced, tears streaming down her eyes. Cold sweat was caked on her, keeping her from moving all at once. It took true will to even move at all, but when she finally did, when she was finally safe behind her bastion, she flung herself onto the bed. Right onto Ayn, snorting, glaring at her until she saw her face, paling.

“What happened to you?” She said.

“P... Peter,” she croaked, stuttering, sputtering so. “H... his eyes. His teeth- oh gods, his teeth.”

She... simply sighed. “Ah. You saw him Feed, then.”

“F-feed? But... Fangs-”

“You already know Peter is different. You never wondered how? He has to eat. Everything.”

“Like he did to that woman?”

“Ah. It was a girl this time? Bold move, Lilith.”

“How is that bold! How are you so nonchalant about this, anyways?”

“Because he’s Peter. He wouldn’t harm us if he didn’t have to. It’s why he tries to keep the peace down here as much as possible. Now get off me- and watch where you wave that paper? Don’t want to get cut.”

Samantha had almost completely forgotten about the paper... as she almost forgot that these were the Black Halls. Where himan were sent to die... or, in Samantha’s case, to stay that way. She held that newspaper tight, the only truth she had at that moment, and wormed her way into her side of the bed... but...

“Ayn?” She whimpered.


“Could... could you...” Ayn sighed, but started to wrap an arm around her- “No. Could you go get Minos? I could really use a cuddle buddy.”

The succubus scoffed and stormed out of the room... However, if Minos ever came or not, she did not know, drifting off into space once more. She made it through the black hole once... once! Who knew what others were waiting, and, though she found the biggest fish, that meant nothing in terms of what the scale still was. For all she knew, she found the Cosmic Fish God.

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