I remember waking up with a massive hangover after that meeting. The air seemed sharp, stinging like smoke in my nostrils. I waddled to the bathroom, hand over eyes to protect them from the daylight in the corridor and the fluorescent lights over the sink, trying to piece together what I heard and what I remembered.

I first saw the tired emptiness in my eyes, and cringed as a feeling of loss and shame washed over me like a cold slime. To think that I used to consider my situation bad, back when my biggest problem was avoiding complaining customers at the clothes store.

My face was slightly grown over with stubble, yet the jawline was looking more sculpted. I lifted my shirt and noticed that the belly had shrank as well. In between Ra'zizi's ferocious attacks and screwing Suzanne, I must have built up enough muscle and lost enough weight to start looking better, but I never really realized until that morning.

Was this what Isabella saw?

Remembering her name was a like a sting right through my chest—all the memories came rushing back. A sharp, high pitched ringing echoed in my ears, and it wouldn't stop. Turning and swaying as it grew louder, until I thought I was going deaf, I yelled and punched the mirror, making a radiating dent in the middle. In the shards, I saw multiples of my face. Some distorted and cut up, others normal looking, some resembling me from before. All, however, had the same eyes—eyes of regret, anger and fear.

I felt two hands wrap themselves around my shoulders, gently massaging them.

"My, my, who's an angry man?"

Ra'zizi stroked the underside of my chin.

"Who's this angry, unshaven, unkempt-looking aggressive brute?" every word out of her mouth was sweet poison. I saw dozens of me flinching from the caress in the mirror.

"You have lots of energy... too much energy even..." she began, and I knew there was no turning back. I wanted it over with. Angry at myself, with my fist scraped and lightly bleeding, I lifted the succubus up and placed her on a washing machine next to the sink. She shrieked with glee, flailing her tail around. Pulling my pants down and raising her legs, I took one last glance in the mirror. There was no running away. I had errands to run, which meant I had to get it over with. The fact that I was already hard made the decision simpler. Looking into the glowing, demonic eyes, full of both playful lust and sly mockery, I put myself up against her and slid in, blinded with carnal pleasure.

Ra'zizi was different in a lot of ways too, I noticed once we were done. That show at the bar and games store wasn't just a fluke, a surge of demonic power. When I went shopping, she would knock over products from the shelf. When I passed by cars parked at the curb, just when I walked past one with a driver inside, she would bang on the side window, cackling as I apologized, making up a story about having a tic, and withdrew.

"Do you really need to do this?" I asked as she rattled the door handle of a neighbor's apartment once we were back home with a week’s worth of groceries.

"Hmm, no, I don't," she responded coyly and giggled. I heard footsteps from behind the door and picked up the pace to disappear behind a corner.

The next day, a knock on my door in the morning made me wonder if she angered someone enough to follow me home. Opening the door, I saw a familiar face.

"Tim?"

I barely got out of bed, but Tim looked a bit unkempt too—like he hadn’t slept much. His salesman-like suit bore a stain from some drink.

"Hey, Matt... You're alive! You don't answer your phone..."

He stood in front of my door, scrutinizing my appearance for a moment, his head tilted.

"I was busy..."

"Busy with..." he paused, suddenly refreshed, to look to his left and right, "the demon?"

"You could say that."

He leaned in and lowered his voice.

"Well, Matt, I think you need help. This thing, is not gonna solve itself..."

"I appreciate the worry, Tim, but I want to handle this on my own."

"No, Matt, you don't understand! You're in too deep! There are people who actually specialize in this, I've talked to them..." he glanced left and right again, "...online!"

As he was talking, I noticed, Ra'zizi walked to his side and yawned. She pretended to rest her elbow on his shoulder and mimickeds falling asleep while he continued.

"They know a lot more than me about demons-"

"I don't need an exorcist, Tim. Besides, I'm not that religious," I cut him off.

"No, not church! Demonologists, Matt!" he insisted.

I shook my head.

"Why do you care so much?"

"What? Look, just because we haven't been talking for a long time doesn't mean we're not friends anymore!" he exclaimed and took a step forward, agitated. I haven't seen him this annoyed in a long time—it didn't seem like it was directed at me, though, more like an all-round frustration. He sighed and continued, "besides, this is about more than just you! Look, these demons, they're not just bound to you, they can affect others!"

"You don't need to give me the moralizing talk," I answered, also getting annoyed with his persistence. I didn’t want to argue with him. In truth, I didn’t know how to feel about him—about what his help had resulted in.

"Have you seen her manipulate any objects? You know, picture frames, bedsheets?"

"She knocks stuff over sometimes," I conceded. "Look, if I need help with picking up knocked over boxes and bottles, I will call you-"

"It's not about that! God damn it, Matt! Oh..." the pause in his talk made me realize something was off. Turning back to follow his gaze, I noticed Suzanne emerging from my apartment. She was wearing a night gown over a black latex suit—the colla, lapels and leggings showing from the parts not exposed by the beige satin. The look on her face was, as always, scrutinizing, with an extra layer of unpleasantness.

I felt that Suzanne had changed too, and not in the sense of asking for my cock through insults. Even though I was letting her have some time with me, even though she was getting what she wanted, it seemed like she was restless in a way. More irritated, but also with a more-than-usually tired voice.

"Uh..." Tim stammered.

"Hello," she said plainly before turning to me, "who's this?"

I sighed. "This is Tim. He's my friend from way back. He is-"

"Leaving," Tim cut me off this time. "Sorry, I didn't realize you were busy."

"Uh huh," Suzanne responded dispassionately, then pushed through besides me, into the apartment. She turned to me, "can you get back here now? You're making me wait."

"Yeah, right," I tried shooing her away with my hand, but she clinged to my arm and tugged.

"Okay, I'll... Call you another time, Matt," Tim said. "You're looking fine, all things considered."

"See you," I said and sent him back on his way.

Between Suzanne's nagging tugs, I could see through the window facing outside from my kitchen how he lingered for a moment more, nervously fidgeting, as if not sure if he should go, before Ra'zizi leaned towards him. I saw her inhale and blow air into his left ear, after which he jumped, and, without bothering to look around, sprinted away while she put her hands together, clapping lightly with glee.