DO YOU LOVE ME?

They fell into the tomb, the two of them. Lester cursed loudly as he nursed his bruised hip and ankle, which he was certain was now broken.

The demon, at least for now, seemed to have left them.

“The fuck are we? What’s happening?”

Lester was a large and out-of-shape teenager, with sad eyes which he’d always been told made him look slow. He mopped the sweat from the brow and could not stop taking large, panicked breaths.

Alison, by contrast, said nothing. She had fallen with a soft thud, and lay unmoving.

“Come on, now,” prodded Lester, crawling over to her. “Come on!”

He used the same intonation he had used when they’d been children together, running through Giles’ cornfields, tromping through mud puddles, playing hooky from school, when no one could understand how a girl so pretty could possibly be friends with such a slow-witted doofus as he.

“You’re all right, aren’t you?”

He had to be mindful as he gripped her. After all, she was no longer that young girl he’d been friends with for so long… she was a young woman, and her body had developed accordingly. Her pale, soft breasts jiggled gently beneath the black satin fabric she wore, and not for the first time, despite this unholy setting, his tiny cock managed a bit of an erection.

Quick, while she’s still unconscious, just give them boobs a squeeze!

But he shook that thought from his mind, and just in time, for she opened her grey eyes and sat up.

Lester scooted away.

“Are you hurt?”

Alison tucked her blonde hair behind her ears.

“There might be a way out,” she said, standing upright. “Help me look.”

“Oh, so you want to escape?” he mocked, “You mean this wasn’t all a part of your plan?” Pain lanced up his back as he tried to get up.

It was a tight space in which they stood, a hollow cylinder at least nine feet deep. Lester ran his fat fingers over the concave, stone walls, not sure what it was he was supposed to be looking for. Clearly there were no exits.

Then: “Hey, what is this?” he asked, “There’s … there’s bumps.”

“Let me see.”

Of course it was too dark to see much of anything, but Alison ran her long fingers where Lester’s had been. For a moment, their fingers touched and Lester’s heart managed to race even faster.

“It’s writing,” she announced, “The whole wall is filled with it.”

“What kind of writing?”

She didn’t answer at first, just played with the stone.

“This is good,” she finally decided, “This means this is where we’re supposed to be.”

“When the hell are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“Sh, listen!”

From above, they heard the deep, beastly growls of monsters. Lester could not bear to look upon the demon-things again.

Alison, for her part, strained her eyes and tried to see as much as she could, the leather wings, dark scales running upside the torsos.

The demon had returned, and brought his friends with him.

2

Strange now to think that for so much of their lives they’d been the best of friends, telling each other absolutely everything with no secrets withheld. During recess, when the boys played kickball and the girls skipped rope, Lester and Alison instead took long walks about the school grounds, talking about everything and nothing. Lester talked about his parents who didn’t understand him, while Alison spoke about her dead mother and her father who hit her and tried to molest her.

As they now both entered their senior year of high school, Alison had grown more distant, to the point where Lester felt like he hardly knew her anymore.

She’d always been bookish. It was not uncommon to find her reading intently with her large, owl glasses. She’d always been the one to help him with his homework and with studying. She just knew the answers to everything, it seemed.

But lately, it seemed she spent more and more time with her books. Lester would call and ask her to go out to the movies with him, to get milkshakes, to see if she just wanted to talk… but for the first time in their friendship, she consistently declined, saying only that she was studying.

For what? Was there a test coming up? He could help her …

No. Not for a test, she’d said.

It had to happen eventually, so he wasn’t completely surprised. After all, she wasn’t interested in him romantically, that much had been made abundantly clear throughout the years, and whereas Lester had just gotten larger and more awkward, Alison had only gotten prettier and had been developing in ways that even the cheerleaders and jocks took note.

Hey, there goes big-tittied Alison! The jocks would cat-call as she walked past.

She never paid them any mind, just sauntered past, as though she couldn’t be bothered.

She wasn’t lying, she really was studying hard. Her book bag was practically bursting at the seams. The few times Lester caught sight of the bindings, they looked to be very old books.

She’d been coming to school with darker lines under eyes, and her skin was even paler than before, if such a thing was possible. There were also bruises on her arms. If her father were hitting her again, she did not say.

He’d nearly given up hope of ever being her friend again when she had called him and asked him to come over.

“Really?” he exclaimed, cursing himself afterward for sounding so awkwardly anxious. “Why, do you need help studying or something?”

“Yes, that’s right,” she’d answered calmly. “I need help studying.”

3

Her whole life, she’d lived in this large farmhouse outside of town. Her father had set himself in front of the television — a black-and-white western with indigenous peoples whooping and hollering like banshees — beer in hand, barely acknowledged Lester’s presence, other than to say …

“In the back,” with a jerk of his thumb.

In the back turned out to mean in the fields beyond the farm. He saw her from a distance, a tiny shard of glowing white in the dark fields beneath the full moon. It took some time to trudge out to her, the earth was uneven, filled with the beginnings of this year’s crops and the end of the previous year’s.

She wore a black satin dress which made her flesh look even more pale, and which served to emphasize her generous cleavage.

She had laid out a red blanket upon the earth, with burning candles set around.

“Have a seat, Lester,” she said, putting out her slender hands.

Lester was nervous. They hadn’t held hands since they’d been kids, certainly not since they’d each had hit puberty.

“You look … you look nice,” he said.

He could see her more clearly now as his eyes had adjusted to the dark. Though she did not normally wear make-up, she was tonight wearing both eye-liner and red lipstick.

He noticed those old books laying on the blanket.

“Are you going to finally tell me what those books are for?” he asked.

“They were my mothers,” she explained, “I found them in the attic. She’d been trying to use them, but they got to be too much for her. That was why she killed herself, I now understand.”

“Oh.” Lester winced.

He’d known that her mother had committed suicide, but it had always been something of a taboo subject between them.

“What are the books, you know, about?”

“Everlasting power. Immortality. An escape.”

“So … science fiction, then?”

“Are you a virgin, Lester?” Alison asked, giving his hands a squeeze.

“Uh, I-I-I… that is… I haven’t… Well, yes. Yes, I am.”

Sex was another subject he’d assumed taboo between them. In fact, he’d long suspected that she’d assumed he was gay all these years.

“Why … why do you ask?”

“Close your eyes,” was her only response. And she said it again, “Close your eyes, Lester.”

He did as he was asked, and it was as though her hands had clamped down onto his in such a way that he could not have withdrawn them, even had he wanted to.

“Alison …” he began.

“Sh!”

“Alison, you’re scaring me.”

“Be quiet, you’ll ruin everything!”

4

He slowly opened his eyes. He was alone, sitting with his hands outstretched, reaching toward nothing.

“Alison!”

He was no longer in the cornfield, but sat on a cold, endless slab of slate. It stretched out in all directions, and the sky was deep crimson. Steam gushed from hidden vents.

He found her standing by herself, still clothed in white, though no longer shimmering. He ran to her.

“Alison, where are we? What have you done?”

“Lester,” she answered simply, “Do you love me?”

“Do I what?” He blinked, took a step back, “Yes. Of course I do. We’ve been friends for over ten years, so yes, dammit, I love you! Now, please, you’ve got to tell me what this is!”

“Shh…” she placed a slender finger to her ruby lips, “You’ll frighten them.”

“Frighten who?”

He did not have to wait long for an answer. He turned slowly and saw the hideous creature standing just behind him. It was reptilian, he supposed, but its scaly body was slick with thick juices. Its eyes were tiny pinpoints of light hidden within deep sockets. It opened its beak and made a maddening sound, the ruined orgasm of a screeching squid.

In a moment, it had grabbed both of them in its claws, and then they were airborne.

The slate was littered with dead bodies, Lester now saw, and not all of them were human. About the carcasses strange creatures fed, but soon they were too far above for him to make out any other details beyond its immense scope, which defied all description.

5

Being deposited in the tomb was the first chance for calm thought he’d had, so in a sense, even though his body ached, it was a welcome development. Now that the demons had returned, however, so had the terror. He could only just see the tops of them, surrounding the opening nine feet above.

“Maybe if we … crouch down… or stand flat against the walls …”

Nothing he said made any sense, and he knew it.

Alison, for her part, stood in the center of the tomb, arms outstretched. A beatific calm enveloped her.

“Alison..!” Lester whispered, “Maybe we should…”

His voice trailed off as he watched her feet slowly leave the floor. She was floating gently upward, like an angel from his dreams.

“Hang on to me!” he yelled, before realizing that he himself was now floating upward as well, though there was nothing elegant about his levitation.

He waved his arms frantically, tried to remain upright, cursing and muttering the whole way.

Together, they floated to the surface of the tomb, and came to a halt when they had reached the opening.

Surrounding them were six demons, each more hideous than the last. Long tentacles coiled as serpents, a face covered in eyes, a throat filled with teeth. But one demon stepped out from the rest. He was the most humanoid of them all, resembling an incredibly muscular nine-foot man with bright red skin, horns jutting from his head.

“Well, girl,” said the demon in a deep voice, “You have summoned us.”

“No one summoned you!” yelled Lester, trying to move in front of Alison, as though he could possibly protect her, “Just leave us alone!”

“Is this the virgin?” asked the demon, narrowing its eyes and grinning slightly.

“They’re talking to me,” Alison told Lester, “I summoned them. Now shut up and let me handle this.”

“You what? How did ..?”

Suddenly, he found that his mouth was covered in a thin, fleshy membrane. He pawed at it desperately in a panic, but could no longer speak.

“Act now or you will both be condemned!” shouted the demon, “Do you wish our powers or not?”

Alison looked into her hands. A blade had materialized there, long and double-edged, the hilt covered in blood-red jewels and strange symbols.

“Your mother was once where you were, child,” continued the voice, “But she was weak and she paid for her weakness!”

“I am not weak!” she said strongly, and a warm, acidic breeze blew her blonde hair about her shoulders.

Lester tried to scream, but the membrane would not allow it. It was as though he were drowning.

Alison turned toward Lester, just as a thin line of electricity seemed to envelope her.

“If you love me, Lester,” she said, raising the blade with both hands, “You would want me to be happy. Isn’t that right?”

Lester wriggled with all of his might, but he could not move. His panicked eyes looked from Alison’s cold demeanor to the eyes of the various demons. They had all leaned forward, grinning and wide-eyed, licking their demonic lips.

“DO IT!” yelled the demon again.

Alison plunged the blade into Lester’s chest.

It was the most pain he had ever felt, it coursed through his entire body. Oh please let me die, let me die, let me die ….

But he didn’t die. The pain grew worse.

“Now twist!” said the demon, and it had now reached a hand out to Alison’s back.

It pawed at her heaving breasts.

Alison closed her eyes in pleasure. Warmth flooded between her legs.

“Oh my …”

The orgasm was as powerful for her as the pain was for Lester.

“Twist!” yelled the demon.

And twist she did. Blood came shooting out of the wound, and splattered against her silken flesh.

“Twist!” yelled the demon, placing another claw between Alison’s legs, “Kill the virgin!”

She twisted one last time, and dropped the blade as Lester’s lifeless body fell down inside the tomb. The demons all cheered, as Alison turned and gave herself willingly to the demon. His massive member thrust between her legs, and she pawed at its massive, muscular chest.

“Tell me how glad you are he is dead, and that his death was painful.”

“Very … ah, very … ah.”

Orgasm upon orgasm rippled up her body.

“SO FUCKING HAPPY!” she screamed, as the demonic jizz coursed through her.

6

When she awoke some time later in the field, she wondered if the whole thing had been a dream. The candles still burned. Lester wasn’t there. Her eyes flashed red. Quietly, she walked back toward her home, where her father still sat, watching television. But not for much longer.

THE END