“Hannah… I’m sorry about last night. I can’t tell you how bad I feel; how I manipulated you..” It had taken a lot of courage to speak to her. He’d already sacrificed too much but the look in her eyes was one of bewilderment and trepidation; not horror and betrayal.
“What?” She asked, taking a step away from him. “It is Mark, isn’t it?” She didn’t even wait for him to answer, just looked at her two friends and shrugged. Luckily they were all alone in the office kitchen. The friends grimaced back. “II'm sorry but I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was in London with.. “ She gestured to the two ladies next to her. “All weekend…”
Doug backed off, bewildered. He tried laughing at his stupidity as he inched his way to the door. One of the other girls asked if he was alright and as he opened the door he heard the other say, “so that’s the weirdo.”
He didn’t even bother going back to his desk. Something was very wrong. Hannah should have been angry; livid with him; but she wasn’t even the least bit inquisitive. She was, however, bound to talk to the rest of the office now about their encounter. Doug was already seen as strange; an oddball recluse and this would compound it; possibly even leading to gross sexual misconduct!
But Hannah knew nothing about it. Doug had heard that severe trauma could bring on a form of amnesia but surely that was only in the films? He had to get home; find the web-page with the Incantation on and try to understand what had gone wrong?!
He walked to the train station, finally managed to get the ticket into the machine -for some reason his hands had started to shake, He stood on the platform and then realised his legs had become spongey as if the bones had been taken out He managed to sit on the seat and not make it look like he was drunk. The platform was still wet from an earlier shower and there was steam coming off the rails, leaving a gritty ozone smell behind.
There was a muffled and nasal retort as another high-speed train was coming through. Doug had spent so long at various stations he could tell where all the ‘joins’ were in the announcement. There was some poor voice-actress who had to read out every time and every place name; and some key phrases; and then the computer put them together as and when the need arose.
When the announcement halted Doug counted to seven before the train doppled past. The sub-sonic crash mili-seconds before the train bulleted through; each window offering a possible glimpse into the stations present and future. For a split second Doug thought he saw Hannah standing next to him, dressed similar to how she was last night: green, flowing trousers; a white blouse with lacework around the buttons and cuffs; her hair long and straight… But when he turned around there was no one there. There was one other thing; it was the glimpse of her smile. It seemed knowing and malevolent.
Whilst on the train home a similar thing happened travelling through the tunnel which bisected the South Downs. The new trains felt so exposed now. Gone were the cramped but discreet seating with the static-producing seats and cumbersome doors. Now everything felt open plan and no one felt safe to look up from what they were doing. Everyone seemed to suffer from agoraphobia. But there was plenty of glass dividing the seats now; not the wooden barriers separating one bank from another; but this created lots of reflective surfaces, and when the train delved into the tunnel the lights flickered and he saw again Hannah’s form, flickering in various windows. But Doug knew Hannah drove to work and would never have taken this particular train anyway as it went in the opposite direction to her home.
He finally got back to his flat, constantly checking around him and paying particular attention to shop windows and their reflections, but nothing untoward happened. As he thought, the flat was a complete mess. The kitchen was pretty untouched but the rest of it looked as if it had been burgled! It had been a wild weekend; tentative at first but increasing in intensity as it had progressed; and there had been no end to Hannah’s desires for him. He turned his Chromebook on, entered his password and found the web page with the text he had spent the whole previous week researching about:
“Animum tuum mihi vinculo perpetuo carnis ligo.”... ok, well that meant: “I bind your heart to me in eternal passion.” He read further. “Veni ad me, pulchra desiderii inferni.” well, even that was pretty easy to decipher: “Come to me, beauty of my desire.” and the last bit; “Devoret me totum spiritus ardens amoris.” which meant: “May you be consumed entirely by your devotion to me.” And on Friday he had finally made the translation; or at least he had found a website to do it for him. The hardest part would have been trying to find things intimate to Hannah in order to bind her to him, however the text also said that it wasn’t necessary as long as you had their photo which you could hold up to a mirror whilst reciting the spell.
It was also customary to masturbate whilst chanting and thinking of the object of desire; then anointing not the photo but the reflection of the photo with the split semen. The results wouldn’t necessarily be instantaneous but within 24 hours, which gave Doug a chance to have a scrub-down and make himself presentable.
Part of him was still worried that he had taken things this far. He was a ‘regular guy’; lonely, bordering on desperate, if he was being honest with himself; but had never wanted to do anything immoral. He had a shaky grasp of occultism and used to enjoy reading copies of ‘The Unexplained’ magazine as a child.
And he would never have considered Hannah as a particular love-interest had it not been for the Christmas party. It had been the first one he’d ever been to and was shy; barely talked to anyone and hadn’t danced all night… That is until Hannah offered him her hand for the last slow dance of the evening. It was obvious that she was more than a little drunk, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer, so Doug finally agreed. He understood how Carrie felt during her first dance at the prom in the film of the same name; it felt as if the world was revolving around him and Hannah, and no one else existed. Her hair smelled of lavender and his hands around her waist felt exquisite. He couldn’t sleep that night and became infatuated with her… but she never remembered the dance and would never meet his eye again whenever they shared a lift or stood in the office kitchen.
So Doug became desperate. To have been given this chance, even such a small one; only for the happiness to be snatched away again, and not even remembered, was almost too much for him to bare. And it was then that he recalled the love potions; it would be possible to bind her to him, for just a little while so she could understand how much she truly loved him… and that maybe he wasn’t such a weirdo after all.
And he was so sure he’d gotten the incantation right…. It seemed perfect at first. The day afterwards he was browsing in his local bookshop, in the New Age section, and suddenly there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and Hannah was beaming at him as if he were a long lost friend. “I didn’t know you had an interest in ‘weird shit’!” She remarked. Doug was bemused and totally out of his comfort zone, didn’t know what to say. “That’s what I call all this occult stuff: weird shit." She continued. "It helps to keep a sense of humor about things. Take things too seriously and you don’t know how messed up you'll become…”
She talked for ages about manifesting destiny and ‘The Secret’ before asking if he wanted to have a coffee. He could only agree and was literally swept off his feet by her. Doug couldn’t believe how well the spell had worked! There was no initial hesitancy, which had been his first quandary: how to initiate contact with Hannah, but she was doing all the heavy lifting here; it was amazing. Coffee turned into supper, which turned into a shared taxi back to his place and a nightcap… followed by the most intense and passionate lovemaking he had ever experienced. None of the films he’d watched had ever girded him for the sheer depth of desire he felt for her; all of which seemed to be reflected tenfold in her.
She left sometime in the early morning and the flat was a mess. He was far too tired upon getting up, and he ached as well - his groin felt numb with overuse….
But he racked his brains about this morning: Hannah had no recollection of what had happened. What was going on? He read the Latin again, and then re-translated words. Something was wrong and he couldn’t figure it out. He copied the Latin and pasted it this time into Google Translate and what he saw stunned him completely:
“Animum tuum mihi vinculo perpetuo carnis ligo - I bind a spirit to myself for eternal flesh.
“Veni ad me, pulchra desiderii inferni. - come to me, beautiful-demon of the abyss.
“Devoret me totum spiritus ardens amoris - May I be consumed entirely by a devastating spirit."
This wasn’t a love spell that he’d created -the fact that there wasn’t anything to bind Hannah to him should have been the obvious clue! The only rational conclusion was that he had created a Tulpa…. A thought form made entirely of his lust; and because he had anointed this reflection it had taken the form of Hannah. This meant that he actually hadn’t forced the real Hannah to do anything! He hadn’t coerced her in any way; no psychological mind-fucks and, more importantly, no statutory rape; which was the worst case scenario had things come to light. Doug was so relieved by this that he actually turned the Chromebook off, walked to the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee.
Consequently, when he met 'Hannah' in the same section of the bookstore later on that day he was relieved and more than a little turned on. It helped that she was dressed far more provocatively than Hannah ever would, almost as if she knew that he had seen through her disguise now.
Hannah had been everything that he had ever lusted after in a woman. She was tall, thin without being anorexic, long straight black hair and high cheekbones which elevated her smile to the divine. This 'Hannah' was wearing long trousers and a tight, white blouse which was semi-translucent and showed off her shapely breasts. Again they were not overly large but perfectly in proportion to the rest of her. She also wore circular glasses that only helped accentuate her almost cherubic looks. However there was now a glint of erotic intent, the likes he had never witnessed in anyone before, and he felt his loins girdle in anticipation.
"I know someplace we can go where we won't be disturbed." The Hannah-Tulpa whispered in his ear; her breath warm and sensual. He nodded and couldn't believe it when she took him by the hand and led him out of the bookstore.
The observant ones in the store saw a strange gesture; a rather flustered man holding his hand out in an almost effeminate manner; sporting a blush as red as his distended bulge in his jeans, as he walked out the store alone.
Doug was in a trance; her touch was divine and sent tingles down his spine. Things became hazy then; he couldn't seem to remember how he got into his car; let alone driving into the country or even parking outside the remote cabin he now found himself in. He felt lightheaded; the tingling sensation he'd noticed earlier had become 'pins and needles'; his tongue felt odd and he had a distinct coppery taste in his mouth similar to blood. He was also lying in a makeshift bed, completely naked... But it was less of a bed, more of an old mattress in the middle of the empty floor; but there were strange signs that had been drawn on the walls around him, and even on the ceiling. None of them looked even vaguely like writing of any kind; more like pictograms or glyphs. He looked at his stomach and initially thought similar had been painted there as well; but as he touched them he was horrified that they had been carved into his flesh somehow. The skin hadn't been cut exactly but it was painful to touch, almost as if he had bled through the skin.
He was frightened now. He tried to get up off the mattress but was horrified to find he didn't have the strength. His body just wouldn't obey him any further, and he then saw Hannah standing in the far corner of the room just staring at him. She was almost completely in shadow, but how long had he been trapped there? He could barely discern her naked outline from the darkness that surrounded her except her stomach looked distended and her breasts sagged more than he remembered. But what really chilled him was, not only the way she licked her engorged lips with her serpentine tongue, but the way her eyes glowed a malevolent orange.
"Ah good." She almost hissed. "You're awake again."
"This can't be happening." He moaned. "I created you." The Hannah-thing laughed throatily at this.
"Oh, you are funny. You have far more entertainment value left in you. I think I might have to let you live a while longer.. Let's see how long you can hold out and I'll try not to let my own passions get the better of me." She walked towards him and with every step he felt his fear rise until he could bare it no longer. With a whimper of shame he lost control of his bladder and micturated onto the mattress. The Hannah-thing shook her head, almost for his own embarrassment and knelt down by his side. She lent over and kissed him on the forehead, as one might a child before, moving down to his cock. She looked up at him and winked, before taking his still moist member in her mouth. To his dismay he couldn't help himself. The utter fear from before was replaced by an erection filled with self-loathing and bile. Had he been able to Doug would have thrown up or at least try to knock her away, but with ever gesture and movement of her mouth he felt himself drift away into oblivion. He hoped and prayed that this would be the end of his nightmare....
...But that was no to be the case for upon his awakening he found himself back in his own bed. The bed-sheets and mattress were damp and he felt as if he was hung-over after a weekend of drinking heavily.... He managed to get off the bed and stagger into the bathroom before looking in the mirror at his haggard reflection. He was beside himself with shock. There were still red lines that covered his ample stomach like a macabre etch-a-sketch, but this time they had been scored by blade of some kind; a lot of them had even scabbed over.
What the hell had been happening? What was it that he had summoned for it could not have been a Tulpa. Tulpa's were a manifestation and responded to your thoughts and desires. They could not harm you, or at least so Doug thought. But that... thing had almost drained him completely; using his own passions against him. In the back of his mind something was triggered and he went back to the website again to re-read that text he had mistranslated the first time.
“I bind a spirit to myself for eternal flesh; come to me, beautiful-demon of the abyss. May I be consumed entirely by a devastating...." This wasn't poetic or an analogy of some kind, he had actually bound himself to be consumed by a devastating spirit and that meant one thing... He had inadvertently summoned a succubus. Succubi were female demonic spirits who devoured men's life force, normally through sexual acts, and he had willingly succumbed to its powers and through the markings on his chest he was now hers for as long as she desired him; or for as long as he could survive. Soon she would grow tired of him and drain him completely... but what could be summoned could also be banished, surely!
He couldn't rely on the website from which he found the original text; he doubted its origins entirely now. That might not have been a case of it being an accidental mis-translation; it might have been a deliberate attempt to trap the unwary and he had fallen for it. He had no choice but to visit the occult bookstore again, but he would go with protection.
After rummaging through his drawer of keepsakes Doug found some crystals: Hematite; black tourmaline... but had he really been a scholar and not in so much of a rush he would have realised that the crystals he now had on his body were obsidian and spessartine, and were the worst he could have chosen.
On the walk to the bookshop he was aware that every reflection now looked like the Hannah-thing; she was watching him with amusement; a cold but patient glint in her eye. There was nothing he could do, she knew... He walked into the bookshop like one demented and didn't see the people in his way, just had his eyes on the occult section; but which book? He was desperate. Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder and the saleswoman stood behind him. He tried explaining what book he was after without trying to sound like he was totally demented.
"I'm.., researching a story on... how to create a succubus... and how to banish one... Is there a book for that?" He asked.
The woman thought for a second. She was old, smaller than him and looked like she would have been happier reading a Mills & Boon romance story than recommending a book on etheric parasites, but after twenty seconds she pointed to a thin and neglected title. Doug picked the book out and read the cover: "Removing the shadows". He went to the checkout and tried to find the woman who made the recommendation, but there was no one there. By the time he'd paid for the book he'd forgotten all about her.
The book was very thin and had only one sentence in Latin to banish a succubus. The rest of the book had been explaining why summoning such an entity was never a good idea, and it just made Doug more frightened for his soul and his sanity.
He needed to break the mirror in which he had made the earlier incantation, and use it to score a circle around his own cock and balls, very carefully -the aim was not to cut into his flesh but to draw a circle of protection around his groin; a symbolic act. He had never been so careful in his life; the circle took ten minutes to complete and he was shaking by the end of it. After re-arranging pieces of the broken mirror around him he read the words out loud three times:
"Ut umbram auferas, corpus ipsam interfice!" He had taken extra time to translate this and knew that it meant: "To banish the shadow, murder the true body." That could mean only one thing... The true body meant the original object of his desire: Hannah. She had to die.
The next day he tried to make himself presentable; it was going to be his big day; a chance to free himself from his man-made purgatory, He couldn't look in any mirrors as that was where she dwelled now, spying on his every move... and through any reflections. He had smashed all the mirrors in his flat; pulverized them into so much dust and flushed that reflective ash down the lavatory. He had taped up all his windows and smeared any metallic surface so there was nothing she could travel through. It was going to be difficult travelling to work but he knew that if he went when it was busiest, and stood in the middle of the train, among the crush and shut his eyes he should be fine. He hadn't washed in days; the water itself could be used against him. He urinated into the sink and defecated into buckets which he emptied in the middle of the night. Other commuters found it difficult standing on the train next to him, due the stench and his very unkempt nature. He made it into the office but had forgotten its mirrored windows on every floor. He had to make a run for it, stumbled up the steps and barely made it through the sliding doors into the lobby. The receptionists didn't recognise him and tried their best to stop him, but he managed to duck into the opening lift and pressed the buttons repeatedly for the 4th floor.
She was there, reflected back at him; taunting him to infinity in the mirrors of the lift. She was barely recognisable as Hannah now, barely even human and his own reflection had been warped into the visage of a madman.
"You're mine... Just surrender yourself to me and it will be as pleasurable as it is quick." She hissed in his every ear. The lift doors finally opened with a hopeless sibilant. He knew that reception had called security to find him, and they knew what floor he was on now, so it was only
a matter of time that they caught up to him. He ran to the door of his office but stopped short when he realised he hadn't brought his identity card; it was an electric keycard and he couldn't get into the office without it. He could hear the guards panting up the stairs, saw the other lift coming up after him; so he had a matter of minutes.
Just then the miracle happened and the door to the ladies toilets swung inwards and Hannah stepped out, gasping at Doug's shabbled ravings. It had to be now! He lunged at her; hands grasping her throat, pushing her back into the toilets. She couldn't scream, could only claw at his calloused, grubby hands; rake the flesh of his face but he wouldn't let go. He didn't hear the security behind him, just felt a blow on the side of his head which stunned him. Hannah then regained some of her wits and kneed him in the groin, exactly where he had carved the circle only a couple of days before. He fell hard and was restrained by the guards.
"Don't.. please don't... don't you see, I have to kill her! She's killing me; she's killing me! Don't you understand!"
The police arrived minutes later and placed him in handcuffs, took him down in the lift again; one of them a police-woman. She became a vehicle for the succubus who gloated at Doug through the reflection.
"Poor mortal. Ut umbram auferas, corpus ipsam interfice..." She said and chuckled throatily. "You never were any good at translation were you? It didn't mean kill the true body... Silly boy.... It meant: To remove the shadow, destroy the entity itself."
Doug shook his head slowly and felt it as a tickle at first; slowly building in intensity as he realised his folly. By the time he had reached the lobby again his body was racked with uncontrollable laughter. Hannah could hear the laughter even from where she was sitting in the office kitchen; being consoled by friends of hers.
"What the hell was that about? Who was he?" Her friend asked. Hannah replied, after a second:
"I just don't know.. I have no idea at all!"
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