Succubus/Incubus

PART 1

The night was at its darkest in the twenty-four-hour cycle. The sun had set a long time ago, and the moon was nowhere near rising. The stars were out, cold and distant. No planets were visible, and parts of the sky had been blacked out by thin dark clouds that blended smoothly with the dark sky.

The party, which had started at noon, was almost silent. Only the occasional rustle in the bushes where someone was taking a piss broke the steady shiver of the leaves in the late-night breeze. The sun setting cut the heat with the precision of a knife through butter--only the larger rocks held a glimmer of the warmth of the day. The partygoers were wrapped in blankets on the ground, some snoring gently, others silent as the dead.

Andi wrapped her blanket tighter and took a deep breath. The combination of Arak and grapefruit juice mixed with countless hand-rolled cigarettes made the world spin. If she didn’t move, though, everything was ok. 

She lay on the top of her van, the thin blanket doing little to keep her warm from the metal roof. It wasn’t all bad, though. The coolness was settling to her wired nerves, frayed from the day of dancing, smoking, and drinking. She reveled in the moment, alone, staring at the blank canvas of the sky. Listening carefully, she heard the occasional night calls of birds shooting by, invisible above and the squeaks of bats which swooped lower, gathering the nights’ insect buffet.

In the distance, Andi heard a low rumble. The highway, she thought, trying to tune the sound out. Cars always made her think of exhaust, and exhaust made her sick. Stop. A deep breath settled her. Not nauseous yet, but the stars spun. It looked like someone twirled poi above her. The stars made silver streaks in the almost black sky--the dark spaces between deepened into almost unbearably deep voids.

Andi breathed and consciously released the tension she felt building in her shoulder, neck, and eyes. Watch, breath, go with it. She knew the more she fought the experience, the worse it would be. Better to ride it out. Let the drum of her mind accompany the celestial performance. Night calls of birds, squeaks of bats, and snores of the other campers all became the background music to the sky. She reminded herself that this experience was fleeting. Everything was fleeting.

An indefinable time later, the sky slowed its dance enough for her to move. Andi sat up carefully, rolled to her side and pushed herself up into a sitting position. The blanket fell and pooled in her lap. Her bare shoulders were exposed and covered in goosebumps. The sharp dry chill of the night washed over and she felt more grounded.

She swung her legs over the side of the van and leaped to the ground. Crouched, one hand stabilizing herself on the rocks, she let her sight return before slowly straightening. Breathe. Wait with eyes closed. And move.

The door to the van was well oiled and running smoothly but weighed the equivalent of an elephant in Andi’s tired hands. She leaned her whole body into it--it felt like she moved the world. When it was open enough, she slithered in like a robber and let the slight incline they had parked on slam the door shut. Laughing under her breath she rubbed her partner’s shoulder, assuring him that there was nothing to be startled by. In the brief illumination caused by locking the doors she saw her partner had already settled into sleep once more.

Andi pulled the string of her pants and let them fall to the ground silently, then kicked them under the bench before she climbed in next to her partner. She shifted until her butt fit comfortably at his belly and tucked her cold toes between his knees. Instinctively he took her cold fingers in his sleep-warmed ones. Andi sighed contentedly.

Dawn came early in a camper van. The thin walls did little to keep out the sounds of morning birds, partiers, and the uptick of cars passing on an invisible highway. The heat of the day was already encroaching on the breathability of the metal cage.

Andi woke still curled softly into the stomach of her partner. Above the morning sounds, she could still hear his soft stores--she envied his ability to sleep through almost anything. Running her fingers from his elbow, snugged at her waist, to his fingers, she tugged until they were no longer grasping at her hip. Moaning, he shifted but still did not wake. Taking his fingers in hers, Andi used his hand to cup her breast, groaning softly--yet nothing changed except for a few sleepy snuffles behind her. Reaching her hand behind, she grabbed his hair and pulled his face close for a kiss. Only then did she feel the hand below her breast come to life. She snugged her butt closer as he ran his other hand down her leg.

Outside the van, she heard movement as the first of the partygoers stumbled around. Someone started up the outdoor speakers with a screech of feedback that settled into a heartbeat rhythm of trance music, setting the rhythm for Andi and her lover. 

After, Andi slid out of bed. She turned and kissed her partner—the morning breath not bothering her much. She sipped her water before slipping back into the miraculously cool pants she had removed the night before.

PART 2

Shell danced, her hands in the air, hips swaying with the music. She didn’t dance well, but that wasn’t the point, was it? The beat was so strong she could feel it in her bones. She could have been wearing earplugs and still felt the pulse of the music.

The sun was setting, the cooled air giving her the second wind she didn’t feel she deserved. Her mind was wonderfully buzzed. As the sun flashed off the cars, the shiny decorations, and the water of the nearby stream--she saw him. 

He stood to the east, his face bathed in the glow of the setting sun. His hair was long enough to cover his half-closed eyes but too short to be pulled back. He twirled, half off the beat, dancing in his own world. Shell slowed, she swayed, she found herself matching his rhythm. 

As if in response, the music shifted. Or perhaps Shell’s focus shifted, warped, and pulled. All she could see was his face, lit in the glow of the setting sun, holding the warmth in the flows and curves of his body as he created a world around him. 

The next thing Shell knew, her hand was on his chest. She felt his warmth flow through her fingers. His eyes opened and shone just as bright as the sun behind him. He grabbed her fingers and spun her. A high voice serenaded them in their little bubble, made the world in which just the two of them belonged. 

When they slowed their discordant dance, he offered her sips of his drink. He rolled cigarette after cigarette and they smoked long after the sun disappeared. Tiredness rolled through Shell’s body and she puked in the bushes. She felt like an untethered balloon, clinging barely to the stranger who shone like the sun. 

After the fires were lit, Shell was ready to sleep. The world spun too much; the people started to look like fire demons rather than the sun sprites she thought them to be. She puked again and made her escape. 

The geodesic dome she planned to sleep in was vast, but at least the world was no longer spun. She felt buzzed, loose-limbed, and empty. She sat still in her dome, eyes closed, listening to the wind blow over her sanctuary. She felt disconnected from her body--but the walls, at least, kept her together.

Shell shook her pants off, anticipating the softness and warmth of her sleeping bag to warm up chilled bones, when the sound of the door froze her in her steps. She cowered in the darkness, hoping whoever had come to disturb her peace quickly realized that this was not their home and left. She crawled as silently as she could into the softness of her sleeping bag. She closed her eyes and told herself to sleep. She pictured herself alone—but she wasn’t.

In the darkness, she saw the sun boy walking towards her. He reminded her of their stories, of their dancing. He ran his fingers through her hair, not noticing or ignoring that she pulled back from him in disgust. The beauty of their connection at sunset made her hesitate, but no, this is not what she wanted. She was tired and wanted to sleep.

His hands grabbed her hips. Her hands pushed his chest, but he did not notice. His sun-like face glowed in ecstasy in the dark as Shell’s eyes darkened, and her gaze went vacant, waiting to be alone but never wanting to be alone again.

When he left, Shell found the condom he said he had used neglected on the floor, obviously not properly worn. Her fingers were sticky with lube; her body felt dirtier still. There were no bathrooms, no lights in this depth of the night. Nowhere to go but to crawl into the sleeping bag and try to forget.

Shell was cold, inside and out. The sleeping bag was cold, too, not properly zipped to protect from the cooling desert air. Wrapped up as tightly as she could, Shell couldn’t get warm. Her shoulders were up around her ears, her face protectively curled into the top of the sleep sack, trying her hardest to use her breath to warm herself.

Shell tried to sleep but her eyes refused to close. The complete darkness around her, comforting before, felt like a giant pit she was falling into, unable to break her fall.