The Gorgeous Incubus
Have you ever had a dream so beautiful that if somehow you knew
that that was heaven you would kill yourself? I have, I do. But
is not heaven is hell and I will fast end my existence just to be
Dreams are creation of the subconscious, a message from our self.
Some people received messages from their god trough dreams.
People had lost their mind with scary nightmares. Dreams are
doors that communicate us to other worlds, dimensions. They are
ways to leave this almost flat world and visit others realms,
I sat by the edge of the bed staring at my black sandals, loving
the monotony of my life.
Every day the same; wake up in the morning, High-school, skip a
class or two with some friends, wink an eye to my ugly biology
professor to 'forget' about his escapee, walk in the school's
running tracks while singing my favorites philosophical sons, shy
my way out of my guys friends and love interest, go home watch
Friends, have some lunch, art class, watch the Simpsons, read my
current book, and just before sleep ask god why he let me survive
it yet again, no answer ever came from that question.
I asked to my empty room, "What's your name?" No answer.
Gabriel… was a whisper in my head like always and like always I
looked around the room. It was almost all the time Gabriel.
Should I be afraid? The name sounded scary on itself, even though
I didn't know the meaning of it. Or if this was only in my head,
if so I sure had a love for that name. If not a love for that
name was to be born that day.
"Hi" I salute the god, or what I tough was a god and went to
As always I was excited -to say the least- about going to bed.
Dreams are the best parts in my daily life. I have always been
able to control my dreams in a way, but I just had learned to
really control them completely.
I was a dreamer, that's how I called myself; a citizen of
dreamland. But I always wonder how a person who lives in dreams
This night it was different I found myself opening my eyes in the
darkness of my room. My eyes were half open, but they wouldn't
open or close completely. My body felt heavy and the little
movements I did came slow and with lots of strength.
Something lay on top of me for a moment, I knew it was nothing
'real' nothing tangible, or alive. A sigh escaped me and this
being sat by the edge of my bed, giving me his back. Even though
I couldn't actually see him I could describe him as the most
beautiful man I've ever seen in my life till that day.
I didn't know what to think of this, what kind of dream was this?
I was still in my bed; I was still in my room.
He was looking around my room, his body very still while sitting
on my bed; he moved his head inspecting the room as if to learn
every corner of it. Then his head snapped to me, He was demon!...
no I knew I was wrong the moment the thought cross my mind, not a
Mara, not a demon, he was an incubus. He brushed the back of his
hand on my cheek and I flinch trying to move away but couldn't.
His touch was not of a human touch, as his hands went down my
cheek the feeling came from inside my skin and not on top as it
would usually feel a touch, and I didn't want to fight him
anymore. My hand twitch as I wanted to touch his face, his
expression was not sad or grimace but something that looked a lot
like it. I wanted to touch his face but he was holding my writs
How many hands does he have? I had asked myself feeling as he
touched my body in too many places at the same time; the
sensation was close to pain, but closer to pleasure. It felt as
if something under my skin brushing and moving the way a hand
does on top. I bowed and moved my body as much I could, which was
not much. I wanted out of that dream!
Is a dream, I'll wake up when I hear the number 3. 1..2...3.
I looked to my electronic clock, my usual way to get out of
dreams, but it was turned the other way so I couldn't see the
numbers. If I could see the clock instead of the time it would
say D:RE A.M. (Dream) and I would wake up right away.
Just a dream. I can control it… I'm safe and by myself.
The demon touched my stomached slipping up my shirt. His nails
where pointy and black, scratching on my abdominal skin. It was
too much, too much… I choked my head fast bring my legs up and
down kicking the air. I started to cry, but I'm not sure if I was
really scared anymore or if I was crying for something else.
The tears caressed my cheek down to my neck then disappeared on
Please please please… I repeated it and repeated it, kicking my
I gasped in surprise, that was not a thought of mine. I looked
around the room with my half open eyes, the demon was still
there, I could see him only if I didn't try to look at him.
The thought -not mine- was not exactly demanding but curious.
Sounding almost human, almost like any of my friends asking for
something they think already know the answer, and they liked it.
I knew I wanted him to go away to stop, but the thought never
came. It was just too much, I wanted to die. I would have
preferred to die. It actually felt like dying, if dying was a
pain pleasure sensation that takes you to hell but protects you
from it. If that was dying then I was dying. And I wanted to stay
I don't want this to happen… I don't want to, the thought came to
me as a plead. I don't want to remember.
Then you won't.
My eyelids felt heavy as I opened my eyes to the morning sun in
"Leila, wake up lunch is ready!" somebody was in my room, it was
my sister. She left my bedroom and I drift back to sleep, my eyes
half open and my room was back into darkness. It all happened
again, more sensations, more pain, but I can't recall any detail
or moment I it was just the remnant of the feelings.
I awoke and threw myself fast out of bed to the floor. I stood up
and glared at the bed.
"Fucking shit! Fucking fuck!" I pushed my fingers in my hair,
pulling a little. "That's was not…" Breath in, breath out, j…
just fucking breath!
I put each my hands on my waist and run it on my belly making a
circle. I gasped in surprise before looking down my body; I was
"Shit, shit, shit!" I looked around my bed, under my sheet and
nothing of my pajamas.
I looked at my wrist half hoping to find marks, but nothing but
the memories. Memories that haunted me every dreamless night.
I crouched on the floor hugging my knees close to me. Oh my God,
I want to die… I want to die. I cried not being able to hold
myself. I felt empty
I want to die!.
Don't… his voice came to me the moment I thought of him. The
memories were blurred but I wanted to hold to them. I didn't want
to forget anymore but eventually with time I did -for a while-
then I remembered him back again.
That first time I felt raped but at the same time… I loved it. I
wanted to sleep more and not ever come back to this reality.
This happened every other night for a little more than a week.
I am not a dreamer any longer. But I do wonder sometimes; how a
person in love with a demon is called. Is love worth the ride to
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