The Devil’s Night
“Kazuma-san, have you heard about what happened to Inoue-san’s daughter yesterday? It seemed she went mad and had brought dishonor to her family.”
Kazuma looked up from the leaves he was sweeping on the ground to look for the owner of the voice. He found Ono Matsumoto, the local dry goods store owner, standing by the gate and motioning for him to come over. He begrudgingly put his broom to the side and went over to the gate.
Matsumoto’s face was scrunched up in deep thought and worry, he lowered his voice, “I heard she took off her clothes and walked around town naked, screaming and wailing.”
Kazuma said nothing for a moment then “I have sent a message to the regional shrine for further guidance.”
Matsumoto gave the young priest a pat on the back “I am sorry you have these problems too early in your career. You haven’t even been here for a year.”
He shrugged “It comes with the work. I just try to focus on doing what I can and asking for help if needed. ”
“Well let me know if I might be of any assistance.” Matsumoto’s frown got deeper “It’s strange that this is what, the sixth incident since last month? We are probably being haunted by a malicious spirit.” Another pat and a wave, “I’ll be going now. I hope you get a response to your missive soon.”
Kazuma waved back and walked back to his pile of leaves, lost in thought. Matsumoto-san was right it was unusual for similar occurrences to happen within days of each other. What was even more unsettling was the nature of the incident. All six were reports of men and women exhibiting signs of insanity and a feeling of wanting to escape out of their own skin. He sighed as the picked up his broom. None of his studies for being a Shinto priest had anything similar so he was at a loss on how to help. He really needed that response from the regional shrine and fast!
Later in the day, Kazuma sat inside the library, copying sutras. He heard a loud commotion outside, followed by a wail so high-pitched sound faded into nothing.
Outside, the scene was very similar for the first six cases. A young woman was on her knees in the yard, held down by two men. She was dressed only in a simple blue yukata and was writhing in agony. Her eyes were wild and hair in disarray. The look of pain on her face was almost too much to bear.
He gestured for the men holding her down and her parents to come into the shrine hall. He quickly donned his reisou and started the cleansing ritual.
The woman’s wails grew louder as his chanting continued. Her body twisted in unnatural ways, trying to purge the evil from within her body. In one moment, her blank eyes met Kazuma’s and he thought he saw another face superimposed on hers. It was gone in a heartbeat.
On the last verse of the chant, he produced a paper talisman from his belt and stuck it onto the woman’s chest. With a hoarse sigh, she strained against her bonds one last time before losing consciousness and slumping onto the floor. Kazuma had a brief discussion with the parents about caring for their daughter and then sent them all home.
During meditation that evening, he tried to recall what happened during the cleansing ritual. The face that he thought he saw troubled him. There was a sense of familiarity when he saw those features but he could not pinpoint whose face was it he saw.
With a shrug, he laid down and was asleep within minutes.
Moments later, he felt a considerable weight press down on him, pinning his arms and legs to the bed. He tried to struggle but could not move a muscle. His eyes opened wide but could not see anything other than the darkness that surrounded his room. There were no other sounds other than his own panicked breathing.
The weight on him shifted, pressing more on his hips and legs, rather than his chest. A cold sensation passed by his face and made him shiver. Slowly, he felt the lapels of his yukata be pulled apart and the cold sensation moved on from his face, to his neck and to his chest. What seemed like cold hands fondled his nipples, briskly rubbing. The cold turned into heat as his body responded to the stimulation.
“Who are you? What are you?” He shouted to the darkness, still trying to escape from the unwanted touch. He willed his frozen body to move but the weight was unforgiving and unyielding. “Stop it!”
The hands continued to assault his chest, alternately rubbing and pinching his nipples. He felt more hands tighten around his shin and travel upwards. He shook his head and whispered, “No, no, no!” as the hands found its way under his clothing. The cold hands caressed his thighs and forced them apart. He sucked his breath in, shocked , when he felt light feathery touches on his manhood. The touch slowly became more sure and more bold. As with his chest, the cold hands built heat by sliding on his flesh up and down, the rhythm building in intensity as moments passed.
The double assault on his chest and on his hips continued, drawing out strangled cries from his throat. The urge to thrust into those warm hands kept getting stronger and stronger, the need thwarted by his immobile body.
“Nooo, stop!” He moaned over and over, his lusty, gasping breaths a contradiction against his words. “Let me go..” he pleaded as he felt a warm wetness seeping through the hands that continued to pump his pulsating flesh. The fluid was slick on his skin and he felt the pressure build within, trying to find release.
The fingers on his chest were merciless, pinching harder and keeping in time with the movements of the hands working his manhood. He sank deeper into the pleasure of the caress, alternately crying for more and pleading to be let go. “No, let me gooo! Let me come!”
He was on the brink of release when all the hands stopped at the same time. He banged his head against his pillow in frustration, too lost in the moment to think coherently. He felt heat envelope his member, hotter than the hands had been. This new sensation was hot and tight, squeezing his flesh as it went down on him.
Kazuma heard a small, satisfied sigh pierce the darkness and his eyes tried to locate the origin of the sound. The weight on his hips lifted and he found finally able to move his lower body. Crazed by lust, he started thrusting upwards. He could feel his skin slapping against wet skin at each thrust, him still leaking fluids that made everything slick. He thrust harder, faster, stronger. His supernatural lover made not a sound but returned his motions with equal vigor.
“I’m coming!” He shouted into the darkness as his body spasmed and released. He felt warm wetness flow onto his skin and the heat slowly leave his now-limp member. Cold air blew onto his skin, making him shiver for the last time before he fell into a dreamless sleep.
When he woke the next morning, he felt as tired as a farmer who toiled the whole day. He stared in horror at his disheveled clothes and dried semen on his thighs. It was not a dream!
“Kazuma-sama, a missive has arrived from the regional temple.” One of the maikos called out from outside his bedroom door. With a shaky voice, he told her to leave the envelope outside the door. He opened the door a crack and quickly took the missive before it could be blown away by the wind.
With hands shaking, he opened the letter and a single word jumped out at him.
Incubus.