Falling Snow Ch. 04

It's been a little while. Longer than I wanted. I could write an entire summary of what's been happening in my life that's delayed this chapter, but I won't. TL;DR version: Life happened

Just a heads up, there's a bit of violence in this chapter. I wanted to let everyone know, since this is the first time I've had on screen violence in one of my stories. Don't expect these warnings to become a thing. I consider the "Erotic Horror" tag to be warning enough for most content. So the only time you'll see a warning, from here on out, is when "I" consider the content to be out there. You've been warned, enjoy.

****

Dinner was always an interesting time to be out and about on campus. Trails of students stretched from every dormitory to the student union in the center of campus. The spectacle was a familiar one. Every evening, students the world over went in search of food and fun. At this college that meant joining the line of people trekking to the center of campus.

They reminded Tom of the threads of a spider's web, each thread connecting a building to the central hub of the student union. As Tom looked out the window, he couldn't help but be reminded of the neat, orderly lines of lambs being led to slaughter. The grimy windows of the cafeteria partially obscured the faces of the students on the other side of the glass. It gave them a murky, almost inhuman look. Endless streams of faceless bodies, all moving with a single minded goal in mind. Eat, consume, survive. How boring.

Tom shook his head to clear away his train of thought. I've been spending too much time around supernatural predators, he thought. Maybe I need to get out more.

He'd been in a melancholy mood all day and he wasn't quite sure why. It might have something to do with being unable to find his phone. He always felt naked without it. Although he suspected that his mood went deeper than something so trivial. He felt disconnected, like he was cut off from the world around him. Tom was always quiet. Being an introvert by nature, it wasn't unheard of for him to spend a great deal of time in the company of his own thoughts. But this felt different somehow. He'd spent most of the day brooding in the storm clouds of his own thoughts and only one topic was worthy of such intense focus, Shyira.

Tom was deeply conflicted about recent events. On one hand, they were the most exciting times of his life. On the other, he had been made party to some truly dark events. Summoning demonic creatures, murder, arson. Tom felt like he was perched on the edge of a wide abyss, a dark chasm that waited to swallow him whole if he wasn't careful.

He looked away from the window and surveyed his surroundings. The cafeteria looked entirely different in the evening. The overhead lights had been turned down as part of a campus wide energy saving initiative. The incandescent lights on every table were meant for ambiance over function. The result was lighting that was soft and dim. Tom liked it, not a flame could be seen but the entire room seemed to glow with the golden hue of candle light.

He sat alone at a small table in the corner of the room. His half eaten food lay in from of him, little more than background decoration for the table at this point. The place was packed. Every table was filled to the brim with students. Groups of students stood overlooking the room, looking for the much coveted table space. Everywhere he looked he could see the signs of a healthy student life. People laughed, smiling as they recounted their day and made plans for the coming night. There was a certain amount of anonymity that comes with a large crowd of people. It was always easy to blend in when you were just another face in the crowd, another part of the background noise of a mass of people. Even the hungry eyes of the people searching for a place to sit seemed to pass over Tom. There are few places lonelier than being surrounded by a crowd of people, he thought.

"Mind if I join you?"

She couldn't have been more than a few feet away and yet she had to all but shout to be heard.

Tom looked up to find a tangled mat of brown hair occupying the center of his vision. A pair of intelligent eyes, magnified by thick glasses, stared back at him. She stood beside his table with a straight back, awkwardly holding her tray of food and waiting for his answer. The look she gave him spoke volumes, like his invitation to sit was somehow important. He had no real reason to refuse. Besides, his mother would smack him up side his head if he was ever rude to a lady.

"Sure, have a seat."

The girl sat directly across from him. Tom watched as she arranged her food in swift practiced motions. She squared her tray with edge of the table before setting her drink in front of her. She finished up by setting her silverware on top of her napkin to the side of her tray.

A place for everything and everything in its place, he mused.

"I thought for sure you would be dead by now."

Tom's eyebrows rose slightly at that. An interesting opening statement.

"Why's that?"

"Horny idiots that summon succubi always get their comeuppance."

Tom gulped. That's not what he wanted to hear right now.

Wait, what? He thought. His brain finally caught up with the conversation.

Realization dawned on him, "You're a witch?" He said, in that awkward whispered shout of someone trying to heard and not be heard at the same time.

"Warlock!" She snapped. "Don't be sexist."

She didn't seem to care about being heard, not that it mattered with all of the people around them.

"Um," he said, a little bewildered. "Sorry."

She ignored him. "So what family are you from?"

"What?"

"Family, what family are you from?" She asked again, a touch of irritation in her voice. "You obviously have some magical talent. Although it can't be that much talent if you ended up in this third rate school."

Hey! He had to try really hard to get into this school. This girl was kind of stuck up.

"You know you go to this school too." Tom said, suddenly defensive.

"I," she said, emphasizing the word, "am being punished for refusing to be married off to an asshole of good breeding."

Tom shook his head to clear the cobwebs. This conversation was going off in a strange direction.

"You know; I don't even know your name."

"Sara," she said simply. "You're playing a dangerous game you know. Getting yourself involved with creatures from the pit."

What the fuck! "It's not like I had much of a choice."

Sara rolled her eyes. "Right, because men secretly hate having mind blowing sex with demonic whores."

"It's not like that!"

Sara was about to respond when she suddenly stopped. Her demeanor changed in an instant as her muscles tensed. Her eyes shot widely around the room, looking for something she couldn't quite make out.

"Listen, this is just a standard wizard's sit down. You don't fuck with me and I won't fuck with you...yada yada yada. I just wanted to add that I think you're an idiot for fucking with creatures from the pit."

With that she got up, leaving her untouched food sitting on the table.

"Hey wait." Tom called after her.

"See you around Tom, try not to die."

Tom lost sight of her as the crowd engulfed her. Well that was ominous.

A commotion in the crowd caught his attention. The sea of unwashed masses parted in front of him as a lithe future strutted towards him. Shyira was as elegant as ever as she glided towards his table. Blond hair and cheerleader perfection caught every male eye in the room. Even in her human glamour he could see the raw predatory sexuality that lay just beneath the surface.

She was dressed to go out. Her little black dress hugged every delicious curve of her body. The neck line dipped dangerously into the deep valley her breasts. The top of the dress was tied around her neck. It left the entire back exposed, right down to the top of her heart shaped ass. The dress showed off her long pale legs and was only an inch shy of public indecency. Like all of Shyira's clothes, it managed to be both raunchy and elegant at the same time, like a noble family's slutty daughter at a state dinner.

Shyira apparently decided that shouting to be heard above the crowd was beneath her. With a wave of her hand the sounds of the room dropped off to almost nothing.

She walked to the side of the table. Leaning down, she planted a kiss on his cheek.

"It's a sound veil." He felt her hot breath tickle his skin as she softly spoke. "It's just you and me now, baby warlock.

She bit his ear gently before she sat down across his lap, right above his growing erection.

"Have an interesting dinner?"

"Not really." He tried to make it sound casual.

Shyira gave him a look.

"There's a party tonight. One of the mortals told me it's the talk of the campus."

"I'm not really sure I want to-"

"Nonsense, everyone who's anyone will be there."

Oh great, just what he needed, a social event. If it was like any party he'd been at since starting school, he would end up standing in the corner with a cup of beer, bored out his mind. He all but rolled his eyes, his gaze wondering to the room around him.

Shyira put gentle fingers on his chin and moved his head until they were once again looking at each other.

"And you're not just anyone."

Shyira gave him a serious look. Tom could see something in her eyes he couldn't quite place.

"Unless of course you're looking to partake in something else tonight? Maybe some high class magical girl pussy instead?"

A look of alarm crossed his face. "Shy-"

Shyira gave him the perfect girlish smile as she broke out in laughter.

"I thought I told you that I don't care if you fuck mortal women. Just as long as you come back to me."

There was a twinkle in her eye as her smile grew a little more serious.

"Also, it's adorable that you think you can keep secrets from me."

As quickly as her serious tone had come, it was gone.

"Now come on. We're wasting time." She said with girlish enthusiasm.

"But-"

Shyira grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his seat. When they were clear of the table she grabbed a hold of his arm, pressing her ample breasts into his side as she let him out of the building.

Oh fuck it, he thought. Tonight he was going to a college party. God help him.

A thought occurred to him as they passed into the cool evening air, "Hey Shy, did you see my phone this morning?"

"Hmm," she said, "are you sure you didn't leave it somewhere?"

****

The last rays of sunset passed below the horizon as the blue and purple tint of twilight took over the world. The street lights clicked on, bathing the street in shadow. They chipped away at the edges of the coming night, like a lone camp fire in a dark forest. To the wise, they were a sign that it was time to return to the relative safety of a warm home and a strong threshold. To the foolish, the harsh artificial light served as a false beacon of hope. The ultimate testament of man's arrogance in believing that he held dominion over the natural world. In reality, the light created a thin veneer over an undeniable truth, that darkness was coming quickly and with it the terrors of the night.

A lone figure stepped out of the darkness and into the light of the streetlight. Her bright pink and blood red hair caught the light as she walked towards the building, announcing her presence for all to see. As if she cared. Aresta clutched Tom's phone as she strode into the campus police station.

She was met at the door by a pair of police officers on their way out of the building. Their conversation died mid-sentence as they stopped to hold the door open for her. Their slack jawed expression never left Aresta's leather mini skirt covered ass as she sauntered into the lobby.

The place was a typical run down police station. The place stunk, like cheap disinfectant and dried sweat. Her high heels clicked loudly on the cheap tile flooring as she approached the front desk. When she reached it, she loudly popped her bubble gum, announcing her presence to the receptionist.

"I'm here to see Detective Palmer."

The older heavy set woman gave Aresta an appraising up and down look, a disapproving scowl on her face. The bubble gum popping beauty was dressed in a skin tight white blouse that left her midriff exposed. Where Shyira was elegant and raunchy, Aresta was just raunchy. Like the hottest girl at the trailer park.

"You know we're supposed to arrest you before you're brought in for prostitution."

Aresta removed her stylish sunglasses and dropped them right on top of the woman's clipboard. She flashed her a sunny sweet smile. The woman's scowl only deepened.

Aresta lifted her hand and blew the woman a kiss. Passersby would have seen it was a mocking gesture. Only Aresta could see the invisible tentacles of her magic moving towards the woman. As the woman opened her mouth to tell Aresta off she inhaled the sweet euphoric substance floating through the air.

The woman's eyes were suddenly heavy and lethargic. A glazed over look passed over her face as she blankly stared at Aresta.

"Tell Detective Palmer that Tom Thornton is here to see him."

"Yes of course," the woman replied absent mindedly. She picked up the phone and had a quiet word with someone on the other end.

Aresta turned around and leaned against the counter. She surveyed her surroundings as she waited. She winked at a scantily clad woman in handcuffs being led by a female officer.

This entire school is ripe for the picking, she thought. Shyira should stop fucking around with the boy, the two of them could have some fun with this place.

"He's coming down to get you."

"There's a good mortal," she said, turning around she raised her finger to her lips, "and remember, I was never here."

"Yes, of course," she said, in a monotone voice.

Aresta looked at the glazed over look in the woman's eyes. She marveled at her own power of influence over the mortals. Controlling one mortal was easy, controlling an entire building of mortals was outside of her abilities. Luckily there were easier ways to accomplish her objectives.

Not a sound was made as she wrapped herself in a veil, vanishing from the world. Once shielded from prying eyes, the faint smell of brimstone and smoke filled the air as a thin layer of fire covered her skin. Aresta weaved a glamour around herself using her fiery magic. By the time Detective Palmer walked around the corner she was the spitting image of a certain scrawny college student.

"Tom Thornton, I presume?" Detective Palmer asked. He flashed a boy scout friendly smile, his hand extended towards Aresta.

"That's right." Aresta said, her voice a perfect copy of Tom's. "Your message said you wanted to speak with me?"

"I just have a few questions about the recent incident on campus."

"You mean the fire?" She said innocently. "I'm not sure what that has to do with me."

The detective gave her a much more calculating smile in return, "Let's talk in my office."

They walked up a flight of stairs and through a series of narrow hallways. In many ways the building seemed to be shutting down for the night. Many of the offices were dark, the motion sensitive lights clicked on one after another as they walked down the hallway. In other ways, the night was only heating up, portions of the building were already bustling with activity.

Aresta followed his steady pace at a professional distance. As they walked, no one looked at her, no one watched her ass sway as she passed. It was a strange situation for a succubus to not be the center of attention. It was also a necessary one. Shyira had given her a specific mission to accomplish tonight and so far, everything was going according to plan.

They finally arrived at a small dingy office at the back of the station. A metal desk sat in the center of the room, between Aresta and the back window. Filling cabinets and book shelves lined the walls on either side. Aresta watched the middle aged detective settle into his seat across the desk from her.

The air was stale and musty. The faint smell of old paper and dust filled the air. Her chair was uncomfortable, mismatched and old like the rest of the furniture in the room.

The detective reached into his desk and pulled out a file stuffed with papers. He made a show of setting the file on the desk in front of him. It sat there, a nuclear bomb waiting to shatter the tranquility of the room. He looked up and smiled at Aresta. One look at his smile told her everything she needed to know about the situation.

Good cop...with a twist.

Aresta had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Christ, she thought, are they still using that lame old trick?

She was meant to be nervous about the contents of the file, sweating over the possibilities that might be contained within. At the same time, the detective's warm smile and boy scout charm were supposed to make her panties damp and her lips loose. She doubted that there was anything in the file, except maybe some old pizza receipts. She was certainly too old to be falling for good cop.

She smiled back, careful to give off the right impression. Just enough nervousness to be natural in a police station, without going overboard and raising suspicion.

"As you know, we had a pretty serious incident on campus recently. One of our buildings caught fire."

"I can't imagine what that has to do with me."

"Can't you? You were caught on video fleeing the building."

Aresta chuckled, "Ya, no shit. It was on fire."

The detective smiled a cheap, plastic smile filled with humor that didn't reach his eyes. "Funny. You want to tell me where you were in such a big hurry to get too?"

She shrugged, "I was in a building that was on fire. It was the most exciting thing that had happened to me all week. I wanted to tell my roommate about it."

He pulled out a pad of paper and scribbled a few things down. "That's all? You wanted to tell your roommate?" He asked, eyebrows raised

"Well, it's not every day that something exciting happens."

He nodded, acknowledging that she had spoken without agreeing with her statement. "Of course."

"You don't think I had anything to do with it, do you?" She asked, innocently.

"No one is saying that. We're just trying to cover our bases, get a better picture of what happened."

She couldn't resist throwing this words back at him, "Of course."

"Now, what was the reason for you being in the building?"

"Well..."

For all intents and purposes, the interview was going well and yet it wasn't. Aresta could tell that the detective was nervous. A strange tension seemed to fill the air between them. To the casual observer, Aresta's performance of Tom was flawless. The look, the tone of her voice, even her mannerisms were perfect. But after 20 years of experience something raked across Detective Palmer's senses. Something intangible, something unconscious that was beating on the inside of his skull, begging to be heard.

Instinct.

The detective nervously reached up and felt a medallion through his shirt. An unconscious gesture, one he did a hundred times a day. This time however, something happened. From Aresta's position she could just make out the subtle pulse of light through his shirt. The detective's eyes widened as his gaze settled on the person in front of him. There was a new sharpness in his gaze. It was like he was seeing clearly for the first time since Aresta had walked into the building.

Aresta's own eyes widened in response. He could see her!

As the detective reached for his gun, Aresta moved. She jumped out of her seat. With one clawed hand she threw the table between them aside. In the fraction of a second it took her to accomplish this act the detective had drawn his service pistol out of its holster. It would take another fraction of a second for him to aim the pistol and fire. He would never get the chance. Aresta's clawed hand shot out, her palm striking the detective in his chest with a blunt impact. Bone snapped with a sickening crunch. The gun tumbled out of his hand as his back hit the wall behind him. He let out a wheezing breath as he slumped to the floor.