Introducing Michael Jones, or as people more often call him, Mike. Standing in at 5 foot 8 with a brown mop for hair, he’d be a great average high school student if not for his frequently dark personality. Not the fun, “I am secretly a dark practitioner of the magic arts” kind - he’s just not that happy.

To bring the narrative forward, Mike was sitting in the homeroom, waiting for class to start. The teacher, one Mr. McKenzie, was up front waiting for someone to arrive, though Mike was pretty sure everyone was accounted for. Outside of one of the girls who had already called out, everyone was on time.

“Sorry I’m late!”

A red-haired girl came flying through the classroom door, wearing denim hot pants and a white crop-top. Mr. McKenzie took note of the new girl’s attendance.

“Class, this is Myra. She’s a new student, so please be nice to her while she gets used to this school,” he said.

Next to Mike sat Tom. Tom’s greatest quality was his ability to read a room, and his favorite hobby was to use said ability to crack a joke. He wasn’t a bad kid by any stretch of the imagination - just what some might call a “chaotic neutral” kind of character.

“Hey, Mike,” he said, “where do you think the new girl’s gonna sit?”

“I dunno,” Mike answered.

Myra scanned the room while Mike and Tom conversed the two lines above. She located where Mike sat in the room and gave a giddy, almost mischievous smile. She made a beeline for the empty seat next to Mike.

“Anyone sitting here?” she asked.

Mike, not expecting her to pick the seat right next to him, didn’t answer right away. Fortunately for Mike’s social ineptitude, she didn’t wait for him to answer regardless. Answering her own question, she said:

“Nah, it’s fine, I know no one’s sitting here, who would sit next to such a gloomy boy like you,” 

Having finished casually slandering Mike’s entire social life, she sat down anyway.

“No one except for him, and now me, heh heh,” she snickered.

Tom was incredulous. This guy? The new girl? Why? he thought. A valid question, and one he didn’t have the confidence to ask. From Tom’s perspective, he could not comprehend why such a hot girl would seemingly pick the dweebiest kid in the school. In his defense, there would be a lot about Myra he would not comprehend easily.

For Tom, that thinking was less a vote of no confidence in his intelligence and more a statement about how principally brazen Myra’s behavior was and would be.

“Hey, Mike, let’s meet after school,” she said.

Case in point: Mike and Tom’s jaws hit the metaphorical floor with that comment. To Mike, he didn’t understand what she saw in himself. He was a dork with few external redeeming qualities. She, quite literally, walked into the class and decided to hit on him with no explanation why. Tom for his part immediately assumed she must have some ulterior motive - though that interpretation could easily be simple teenage jealousy as much as an investigative social read. Such distinction is left to reader interpretation.

The problem with solving the conundrum that was Myra is a certain aura she had. Her immediate impression was that if she was going to do something, that was that and you weren’t to question it. Tom and Mike were most certainly not going to approach such an aura. (Un)fortunately for Mike, the aura had approached him first.

Uncaring for the boy’s plight, Mr. McKenzie faced the class and gave his announcements for the morning. It was the usual drivel the class faced to start a year - boring and school-mandated, “be yourself” and “ask an adult for help!”

After what became a remarkably uneventful day of school for Mike, the classes filed out and he started his way home. Myra didn’t seem to bother him in any way after their encounter to start the day, and her words of meeting after school were like a cloud hanging over his consciousness - red-haired and seemingly filled with chaotic intent. The source of Mike’s dread came up from behind him after he got on the sidewalk outside the school.

“Hey, Mike!” Myra said.

“...hi,” Mike replied.

She skipped and turned around to face Mike, a smile adorning her face for reasons beyond Mike’s present comprehension.

“So! I didn’t want to explain this earlier, because it’d be a bit of a bad time, but I wanted to say why I’m here to claim you,” she began.

She knelt down to look at Mike’s somewhat downcast face. Her grin was going from happy smile to smug satisfaction.

“Remember when you wished for a pretty girl to come along?” she said.

Mike stopped in his tracks. What? he thought. I didn’t wish for that today, last I checked. Then he realized that she couldn’t have been thinking about something today - she already seemed dead set on him the moment she walked in the class door. If not today, then…

“Why am I such a failure? I wish someone would come along in my life, preferably a pretty girl’, if I recall?” Myra added.

Mike went flush red in the face with Myra’s quotation. He didn’t know where she heard that - however, in his defense, he was no longer thinking. After a moment of panic, he tried to move around Myra in front of him to run home. Myra tried to keep in front of him, though. Once he did get around her, though…

“I didn’t want to do this, but stop running for a moment!” she called.

Mike stopped running after her comment. Or, rather, his body stopped. So far as he could tell, his body stopped listening to him. Myra had turned and was walking to a bench on the sidewalk. Mike (not that he seemed to have a say in it) followed her to the bench silently. Internally his thoughts were panicked.

Myra sat down on the bench. To an outside observer, this would have simply looked like some strange lover’s quarrel - one that was ending with Mike laying to the side and putting his head on Myra’s lap. The truth of the matter, of course, was a little more complicated.

I’m sorry for that, I pushed the teasing too far. Myra’s voice echoed through Mike’s head.

What’s going on? Why can’t I move? Mike thought.

It’s because of the other thing I was going to explain. The truth is, I’m a succubus. Myra’s voice continued in Mike’s head.

Mike’s headspace started to panic. Myra seemed to pick up on that, and started to gently fiddle with his hair in an attempt to calm him down. Immediate results were somewhat effective. Having calmed down slightly, Mike thought in his head (due to a continued inability to speak) So are you coming to kill me, drain me of my life force?

Slander! That’s not how we work. Ugh, Myra’s voice ran through Mike’s head.

Then how do you work, then? What’s your deal?

Myra did not respond. Mike wasn’t sure what the holdup was, and he wasn’t exactly in a position to look and see. After a moment, Myra’s voice returned.

There are some jerks coming. Have some faith in me, okay?

Mike wasn’t sure who these “jerks” - and, seemingly still locked out of moving his own body, didn’t have many other options. Trust in the mystery self-proclaimed succubus it was.

“Hey, girl, we saw you around school today. Why are you with this loser?” said a male voice.

Mike couldn’t see his face from the sideways angle he was looking at, but he recognized it as Johnny, one of the jocks of the school. Mike figured he had his friends with him.

“Mike here had a bit of an emotional day, and I’m giving him some support. I’d really appreciate it if you would leave us be.” Myra said.

“Well, I can see that, but that’s not what I asked. You’re so pretty, and you’re with this loser? Why him?” he asked.

Myra paused. Mike recognized this routine, partially from TV media and from Johnny’s past behavior. Mike was on the edge of being a nervous wreck internally. Myra however was unfazed:

“Let me ask this question: Why should I be with you, hm?”

Johnny didn’t have an immediate answer to the question. Before he could improvise one, Myra pounced.

“That’s clearly what you’re trying to aim for here. I’m not stupid, you’re trying to say that, ‘oh, Mike’s a loser, you should be with me, a great man!’ Well, consider what you’re doing. You just approached me out of nowhere, called my boyfriend a loser, and were clearly trying to imply I should be your girlfriend with no regard to what I think.” she scolded.

Mike was surprised by the verbal lashing Myra handed the school jock. What an asshole, Myra’s voice sounded in Mike’s head.

“We-Well, I, uh,” Johnny started.

Clearly trying to come back from an unexpected assault from Myra, she didn’t give him any room to do so.

“Instead of giving me some wishy-washy words about how you’re not that bad, how about you and your little henchmen leave us alone, before I disregard ever considering you anything other than a snobby little scheißkerl whose idea of a relationship with women is a pretty face to have sex with later?”

Johnny, after a moment, walked away without responding. Myra looked down at Mike, and asked:

“Hey, can you look at me?”

Mike turned (on his own) his head to look up at Myra, from her lap. Her smiling face looked down at him.

“Bad man gone. Shall we continue this conversation in a more peaceful setting?” she said.