I almost drop the bowl when I get a good look at the…monster.
This is not possible. There must have been drugs in that drink Mr. Sire gave me a few minutes ago. This looks like…
A demon?!
It’s a huge, humanoid creature. It sits in the corner of the room, hands bound by two chains attached to the wall, two horns on its head like antlers.
Its arms are clutching its legs, pulling them to its chest, but there’s not much farther the chains will let it move.
My first reaction is fear, but…
Those eyes. They are scared, broken, and submissive.
“I’m Cat,” I say, trying on a reassuring smile. “I am here to take care of you.”
The creature doesn’t answer me, just looks at me curiously.
“I…don’t know your name or, quite frankly, what you are, but I’m sure we’ll get along fine,” I say. I think it understands me, because it looks toward the opposite corner of the room from where it’s sitting—like it’s trying to show me something.
I follow its gaze and see a file attached to the wall next to a small, empty table. I head in that direction, put the bowl on the table, and grab the file.
“~Test subject ‘incubus’,~” I read aloud, “~a spirit or demon of the night. Said to impregnate sleeping women during their hour of sin, in connection with the devil.~” I scoff. “There’s no such thing as the devil.”
I hear a sound from the corner and turn back toward the creature—the incubus, I guess. It seems pleased, a slight smile on its face. Well…~his~ face. The file specifies that this specimen is male.
“You’re a forest spirit, then? A”—I read again—“sylvan?” He nods.
“Can I call you that? As a name? ‘Sylvan?’” He nods again.
“Can you talk?” He shakes his head.
“But you understand everything I say?” Again, a nod.
I can work with that.
I sit on the table and take a closer look at him. His face is almost humanlike, but the skin is a little redder than any human’s I’ve seen.
I can’t see much of his torso when he’s sitting curled up like that, but his legs are goat-like, covered in hair and with hoofed feet.
I guess that’s why the legends put him in cahoots with the devil. Poor goats. It’s not their fault they’re associated with Satan.
His muscular arms, by contrast, are completely human. Well, if the human in question has spent all his life in a gym.
His ears are long and point toward the back of his head, where his long, brown hair is slicked back.
“How about I tell you something about myself?” I suggest. He nods his agreement.
“I just started here today, and I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I…don’t even know if you’re real or a hallucination.
“Maybe right now I’m in a cell in a mental facility because I’ve gone mad.” I grimace, and Sylvan laughs, loud and open-mouthed.
It’s a cute sound, but his teeth fascinate me now that I’m seeing them. They are very sharp and pointy; a bite must hurt like hell. He notices my stare and swiftly closes his mouth again.
“I don’t mind,” I say. He looks up at me, curious. “I’ve always been the odd one out,” I explain. He frowns. “Not because of how I look,” I clarify. He smiles, like he gets it now.
“As a child, I was the orphan. As a teenager, I was the slut.” He doesn’t know this word, by the looks of it.
“I was looking for something to fill me, but I looked in the arms of strangers, rather than myself,” I explain. He slowly nods, eyes filling with understanding.
“As an adult…well, I was the weird scientist with crazy ideas, who was attracted to all sorts of strangeness.”
Sylvan looks compassionate. I can’t believe that some mystic being understands me so much more than any human ever has.
“Look…” I sigh, and my shoulders drop. “I am supposed to take your blood.” I hold up a syringe, and Sylvan immediately pushes himself back to the wall, so I quickly put it back on the table.
“But I want you to trust me first. Is that a deal? We get to know each other. Then, when you’re ready, I take your blood?”
He nods, eagerly now. I am a little confused, but I can work with eagerness.
I find myself conversing all day with this stranger—not just a stranger, but a chained-up monster who’s supposed to steal my sin or whatever bullshit the church has made up. And it’s one of the best conversations I’ve ever had.
Okay, Sylvan doesn’t say anything, but he seems interested, reacts with his face and body, and seems to relax from time to time.
Finally, he loosens his arm from where it’s been tightly wrapped around his legs all day and holds it out to me. I must have been talking for hours by now, but I didn’t even notice the time passing.
“What the hell…,” I gasp, and come a little closer. “Can I?” I reach out to touch him and he nods, extending his arm fully so I can take a look.
“Who did this to you?” I whisper as I inspect his arm. It’s covered in bruises and scars, apparently from somebody trying to take his blood.
Sylvan points at me and I frown. It couldn’t have been me, so I guess…
“The person before me?” I ask. He nods proudly, as if he’s glad I understood.
“Did they try to take your blood by force?” Again, he nods, and now I’m angry.
“This is unbelievable! Did the boss fire them?” I ask, shooting up from where I’ve been crouched next to him and putting my hands on my hips.
Sylvan flinches, so I rapidly kneel again, holding out my hands. “I am angry, Sylvan, but not with you. I’m angry with the person before me.
“They had no right to treat you like this. No matter how you look, no matter if you can speak or not. No living being should be treated with such disrespect and brutality.”
Sylvan tilts his head and smiles, his eyes warm and full of joy.
I stand up, but then he reaches for my hand to stop me. As he does, his sharp nail grazes against my arm, and a thin line of blood wells up on my skin.
Sylvan looks terribly sorry and shocked, but I just smile and wave off his obvious distress. “It’s okay, don’t worry. I can handle a little scratch,” I say.
I reach to wipe away the blood, but then Sylvan carefully stands up. He does so very slowly, and when he finally stands, I know why.
He. Is. Huge.
Massive.
I need to tilt my head back just to keep looking into his face. He looks timid, as if he’s used to people shying away from his sheer height. But I just smile and wait.
Gently, he takes my hand into his, carefully brings it up to his mouth—he has to bend over a lot to reach—and slowly extends his tongue.
I find myself even more intrigued by the tongue than I was by his teeth. It’s a deep red color, split down the middle. It looks like each half of his tongue can move independently.
Maybe I should be disgusted, but the scientist in me just wants to take notes. How does this work? Does Sylvan have two sets of nerves working independently, or is it just a muscular thing?
Gently, he licks over the little scratch on my arm; the bleeding stops immediately. I look at the closed-up wound, confused, before looking back to Sylvan.
“Thank you,” I say. He smiles proudly, taking one step back. Once he’s no longer bent over me, I can’t help looking straight ahead—directly at Sylvan’s enormous penis.
A quiet gasp escapes my lips, but I manage to make it sound like a cough. I turn away. Shouldn’t he be…like an animal? Goats, for example, mostly keep their penises sheathed inside their bodies until they’re having sex.
But Sylvan’s penis is…very humanoid. The only difference from a human one is the size, and that it has a pointy tip instead of a round one.
My thoughts are heading in a very not-scientific direction.
I force my gaze away from his massive penis, back to his face. But he’s looking at me strangely, kind of staring me down. Then his tongue - or rather, his tongues - slowly come out of his mouth and lick his lips.
This is fucking crazy. I can’t be hot for some… monster.
Can I?