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Subject: {Darkside} Incubus, New Version 1/9
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Incubus Part 1/9
(c) Darkside@nym.alias.net

This story contains material that could be deemed offensive.
If you are under 21 or easily offended, stay away.
------------------------------------------------

Incubus (c)1998 By Darkside.
============================

Notes:

I always try and experiment in my stories, sometimes it 
works, sometimes not. It worked very well in Fury and in 
this one, well you decide. 

This story should not be read by anyone under 21 yrs of age
or the easily offended. 
It contains scenes of graphic violence, and sexual material.

It in no way condones the behaviour shown below and any 
scenes shown below are for dramatic purposes only. Any 
reference to anybody or anything is accidental and for 
dramatic purposes only. 

This story is set in the Fury 'universe'. However the story 
does 'stand alone' so don't let the above request put you off. 
Reading the Fury Trilogy after this will change the face of 
this story so in effect you are getting two stories for the price
of one.

You can find fury at
http://library.gaycafe.com/nifty/transgender/Magic-ScFi/hell-hath-no-fury
or fictionmania www.fictionmania.com. look under the author 'Darkside'.


The only payment I demand for this story is that you mail 
me with any comments(good or bad) or questions. You may 
store/mail this where-ever you wish but you may NOT 
charge for it. If you want to publish it, mail me and we'll 
talk.

Many Thanks To Vickie Tern(VickieTern@aol.com) for
her support, input and downright patience. 
Multiple thanks to Jenny Adams and IM Janus for taking time out to proof this
for me 

Comments etc to darkside@nym.alias.net


Incubus (c)1998 By Darkside.
============================

Incubus: 1. A demon believed in folklore to lie upon 
sleeping persons, esp to have intercourse with sleeping 
women. 2. Something that disturbs greatly, esp a nightmare 
or obsession. 

1976 Arkansas.

"Oh yes more ,more, more," came the moan from the next 
room. He lay in his bed listening to the sounds coming from 
his mom's bedroom, his hands over his ears, his nine year 
old body shaking in fear.

His mind went back to that fateful day where dad had 
walked out after finding out about mom and the man next 
door. Since then, this had been the only way to bring enough 
money in to live on. Today was Tuesday, Tuesday was when 
Mr Burns came around. Mr Burns liked him to join in as 
well.

21 Years Later.

He walked down the high street in nonchalant fashion. The 
sun shone on this bright September day, forming ever 
lengthening shadows on the ground where he walked. 
Looking at those shadows he speeded up his walk. The 
casual swagger abandoned in order to avoid the twilight. 
The twilight was when THEY came. They always came at 
twilight.

He'd just finished his shift and was walking home on what he 
called 'route b'. This involved avoiding the busy shopping 
malls and avoiding the typical late 20th century rat race. 
'Route b' was a much more scenic route. Well as scenic as 
you could get living in an urban sprawl.

People made him nervous and so he avoided them wherever 
he could. He preferred the safety and security of his own 
company to that of his fellow man. There was something 
about other people that made him on edge, as though there 
was something inside them that was evil and was trying to 
drag him down to hell.

The light was beginning to fade quickly now. He had to get 
home soon or else face up to THEM again. He quickened 
his pace into a slow run, he must get home no matter the 
cost.

As he ran past well kept gardens he knew that he would be 
too late. He could feel the oppression in his mind, the voices 
that demanded things of him, tried to make him obey their 
will, they would soon start. He must hurry.

In the dying embers of the day a last glow of sunshine broke 
thru the clouded sky and bathed him in light. He stood 
transfixed as salvation came upon him. The voice inside his 
head was smooth but powerful. It said "You are my chosen one.
The world has become evil and I have chosen you to stop it."

He fell on his knees in awe. "What should I do?" he called.

"Women are the cause. Since they tempted Adam so long 
ago they now tempt mankind. It was a woman's hand that 
caused man's downfall. You must stop temptation again 
before the end of all things."

The sunlight left and the day drew to a close. Breathless 
from his revelation he ran the remainder of the way home. 
His encounter had driven THEM away. He now saw things 
clearly, he knew what his mission was to be.

When he got home he managed to find his old family bible 
and he opened it and read Genesis chapter 3. The voice was 
right. The woman did do it, the woman was the serpent. So 
the world could see the truth he now knew the woman must 
become the serpent again. That was his new role, his 
destiny.

Fourteen months later.

He stood astride her, his foot placed firmly on the small of 
her back. She was whimpering softly, unable to speak 
properly. Her slender body pressing deep into the ground. 
The wood silent apart from the buzz of the crickets.

"Don't worry. Soon you will be back where you belong" he 
said.

Her only reply was to struggle some more.

"Now for your atonement," he said as he brought the axe 
down in a smooth practiced motion.

-------------------------------------------------------

Detective Scott Harris took the call. He'd only just gotten to 
bed after a pretty shitty day. He'd just managed to creep into 
bed and get warmed up when his pager went off. Struggling 
not to wake up his wife, who was still asleep, he managed to 
get to it and switch it off.

Bleary eyed he walked to the phone and rang the station.
"Wass up," he said sleepily.

"Sorry to wake you but we found another one," the voice 
replied somberly.

"Fuck!, where?"

"In Cranwell woods. Nobody saw anybody do anything. The 
MO's just like the rest. I sure hope we get this bastard 
soon."

"OK I'll be right there."

Dressing in a hurry was not in Scott's nature but ten years of 
working in homicide had taught him one thing about getting 
dressed in the middle of the night. Rule 1, always check 
your zipper. He did so and slipped silently out of the house.

The small patch of woodland known to the locals as 
Cranwell woods was about 10 miles out of town, and it 
would take Scott about 20 minutes to get there. As he drove 
past deserted streets he thought about the case, his case. "I 
hope to God I catch this bastard soon," he thought.

In an attempt to clear his mind he switched on the radio. 
Carmina Burana O Fortuna was just ending and the news 
started. "And the hot news tonight is that Robert Abbey has been 
appointed the defending attorney in the Dr Elizabeth Bexley 
trial. As you are no dou."

Scott flicked the radio off in disgust. Firstly he was fed up 
with the media always going on about the Bexley trial all 
day, every day. But what really got in his craw was that the 
officer in charge of the case had it so easy. Rich heiress, 
pissed off at being jilted, blows her ex-fiancee's wife's head 
off in front of hundreds of witnesses at an airport. Simple 
open and shut case. Not like this one at all. 

The blue and red flashing lights casting distorted shadows 
thru the trees told him he was at the place. Paramedics were 
still on site, but their movements told him they were too late. 
He drew up beside a squad car and got out.

After he flashed his badge at the officer guarding the site he 
met his partner, Tina. The tears in her brown eyes told him 
his worst fears were true.

"Is it?" he asked.

"Yep, Take a look if you want. I gotta get outta here," she 
said softly.

"Forensics been down here?"

"Yeah. As usual they found squat, just the usual. Andrew's 
still here though."

"Fine I'll go talk to him," and Scott walked off.

"Hi Doc," Scott said to Andrew.

Andrew was crouched down, his flashlight sweeping the 
ground for any missed evidence. "Uh Hi," Andrew replied.

"Can I take a look?" Scott asked.

"Sure, we've taken all the photos we need for the moment. 
We just need to do the front."

"Why don't you come too and tell me what you've found?" 
Scott asked.

"Okay I was headed back that way anyway."

Scott and Andrew threaded their way thru damp, thick 
bushes and ferns until they reached the point. Scott's 
flashlight beam fell on the place and he nearly threw up in 
disgust. Only ten years of this kinda shit stopped him.

The shape resembled a young woman, laying face down. 
Her arms were missing and her body was clothed in what 
looked like a fake snake skin swimsuit . Her legs had been 
bound together using thick adhesive tape and obviously 
placed inside a roughly sewn PVC tail, which were covered 
again with brown and black snake scales. Blood was still 
seeping out of the bloody sockets where her arms had been 
and a large bruise was starting to form on the small of her 
back. 

The head was shaven  all over and a snake-skin hood was 
lying close by.

"Did you take that off?" Scott asked pointing at the hood.

"Yeah, we needed to see if it was the same as all the rest."

"Can we turn her over?" Scott asked.

"Sure, I was about to do that. We'd better get some 
photographers over here first," Andrew replied.

"I'll go get them" Scott said, still feeling sick from the sight 
he'd just witnessed.

A few minutes later Scott returned and turned the body 
over. The feeling of nausea returned as he looked at the face 
of the dead girl. The girl's eyes, still open, showed great pain 
and fear. Blood was seeping from her mouth. She must've 
been about 25. 

The photographers did their grisly work with their usual 
efficiency and this allowed Scott to get a closer look. Her 
mouth was bloated as though something was inside. He 
reached down to open her mouth, knowing what he would 
find, but he needed to confirm it.

"Better put these on first," Andrew said, handing Scott a pair 
of translucent latex gloves.

"Thanks," Scott said, and put the gloves on.

Scott reached into the woman's mouth and found a golf ball 
sized rubber ball inside. It had obviously been used to stop 
her screams. 

"Pass me the flashlight would'ja," Scott asked.

Andrew gave it to him and bent down to look over Scott's 
shoulder. Scott switched the beam on and looked into the 
woman's mouth. He heard a "fucking hell," from Andrew but 
what he saw inside came as no surprise. Parts of her tongue 
had been cut away to make it much thinner than usual. A 
long section had also been removed from the middle of the 
tongue giving it a fork shape.

"This wound is quite old, maybe a few days. Look how it'd 
started to heal," Andrew said.

"I want this mother-fucker, I want him bad," Scott said 
bitterly.

"Yeah I know," Andrew replied.  He'd seen many corpses in 
his time but these ones were the worst.

A shout went up from a way back, "Hey get over here, I 
found something." Scott and Andrew stood up and ran to 
where the sound came from.

A young, fresh faced officer was busily throwing up whilst 
his more experienced partner stood there holding the 
flashlight on the ground.

Scott looked down at two severed arms, laying side by side 
on the ground. The grass was dark where blood had poured 
from the open wounds. 

"Looks like she was trying to squirm her way to the road 
when she died," Andrew said.

"What's your initial thoughts? "Scott asked Andrew.

"Too early to give a proper analysis but I'd say she was 
brought here already bound and gagged and then held to the 
ground with his foot on the small of her back. Judging by 
ragged wounds and exposed bone I say that he then 
proceeded to hack off each arm with a large implement such 
as an axe. Notice several smaller wounds around each 
shoulder, all at different angles. I'd say he had to have 
several goes in order to sever each arm. He then clears off 
and leaves her to die from blood loss," Andrew said.

"How long would this take?" Scott asked. He already sort of 
knew the answer but he wanted a second opinion.

"About 5-10 minutes depending on size, fitness etc. I guess 
she's been dead about 3-4 hours judging by the bruises and 
amount of blood around. I'll know more when we get her 
back."

"So she crawled about 100-150 yards in that time. I guess 
we should be able to see the blood trail," Scott said.

"Yep. Scott, you look beat.  Why don't you go home and leave 
the rest to us."

"OK let me know what you find out," and Scott walked 
away.

The radio on the way back was still on about the Bexley trial 
so it stayed silent for the rest of the journey. By the time he 
got home it was 4am, and unable to sleep he poured himself 
a large brandy to try and keep the nightmares at bay.

He awoke with a headache some 5 hours later with the 
smell of freshly cooked bacon in his nostrils. His wife, 
Rebecca, was calling to him, "Hunny breakfast."

"OK dear, now coming" he called.

Slowly getting up he walked into his kitchen and sat down in 
front of his favorite breakfast. His face must have betrayed 
something as his wife asked, "Another one huh?"

Scott paused for a few moments and then said, "Yeah, this 
one was the worst yet. Sorry but I want to leave my work 
where it belongs. You're my last outpost of sanity in an 
insane, perverse world. When I get thru that door we're in 
sitcom mode. We may have ups and downs but there's 
always a happy ending and a little moral lesson at the end."

"Hey, I know, now eat up," and she bent down and kissed 
him on the cheek.

Scott felt his cock swell, She's still got it he thought. 

A few minutes and a prolonged kiss later Scott was on his 
way to the station. So far the precinct had done a good job 
of covering things up but he didn't know how much longer it
would last. This latest murder put more pressure on him to 
lift the press restrictions.

His team was waiting for him as he walked into the briefing 
room. For many of them this was their first homicide case 
and certainly their first serial rapist. He looked across at their 
faces and was amazed at how quickly they had lost their 
innocence. When they'd first been assigned to this case they 
were all keen and raring to go. Their heads full of Cagney 
and Lacy, Perry Mason and Dirty Harry. As soon as they 
saw that first dismembered corpse nearly a year ago those 
illusions about working in homicide were shattered. Now all 
that remained was grim determination.

The chattering ceased as Scott cleared his throat.
"Thanks for coming, Ladies and Gentlemen.  I'm sure you all 
know what happened last night."

"For those who don't know what the hell I'm going on about 
and have been drafted in after last nights events, I'm going to 
outline the known facts. After I've done that you may ask 
any questions you may have and I'll do my best to answer 
them."

The was a small pause as Scott allowed his audience to 
settle. He put the first of his slides on the OHP and switched 
it on. He was about to speak and the bulb blew. "Fuck," he 
swore.

"Never mind I'll continue without it," he said, and pushed the 
non-functioning OHP away.

"The first attack occurred nearly a year ago.  If you look in 
your notes you can see the pictures of that first victim. 
Notice how her tongue has been mutilated to form a fork 
shape and how her legs have been bound as though to form 
a snake's tail. Now the coroner says she was still alive and 
conscious when her arms were amputated. We later found 
out her name was Vickie Farrell and she was a waitress at 
the local Taco Bell. She went missing on her way home 
from her late shift and her worried parents called us the next 
day."

The new members of his team's faces were pale and drawn 
as they took in the horrific picture in front of them.

"You will notice that the killer tries, in each case, to make his 
victim become serpent like. Our psycho-analysts and 
profilers can give no firm motive behind the attacks, only 
that they are carried out with much care. Their explanations 
range from a person with a snake fetish to some kind of 
snake woman hater. Frankly they haven't a clue what makes 
this guy think."

Another pause to let his words sink in and then Scott started 
again.

"There have been nine further attacks over the last 10 
months, each one exactly the same. We've looked for a 
pattern for the attacks but can find none. There also appears 
to be no regular time pattern either. There was a four month 
break between the first and second killings for example. The 
geographic regions are different but all based in this State 
and each victim had no connection to the others. One thing 
has been noticed is that each victim was noticeably more 
attractive than the last. It's as though our killer is working 
his way up the beauty stakes."

"The Coroner's reports each say the same thing and I 
suspect last night's will show the same. As I may have 
mentioned before the victim's arms are removed just prior to 
death by some kind of axe, probably one used for 
woodcutting . Their heads are shaved sometime before this 
and judging by the stubble growth, shaved every day. We 
think the tongue is mutilated between five and eight days 
before death and judging from bruising around the legs and 
remains of the arms they are bound with wire and adhesive 
tape. The victim is also gagged using a device similar in size 
to a golf ball. Bruising around the mouth indicates that this 
is in place most of the time.

The victims' genitals show signs of bruising indicating 
multiple rape during their captivity. Unfortunately their 
vaginas have been cleaned before the killing so we have no 
semen samples from which to work. For such a violent 
death there are surprisingly few signs of struggle and we 
have no idea of the killer's method for preventing it. Bruising 
on the back shows us that the victims have been held down 
by a foot but the size and type of footwear used varies each 
time or we could not determine more detail from the 
bruising."

Scott paused allowing time for the note makers to catch up.

"Naturally we have focused on the places where the 
clothing, gags and axes can be obtained but in each case no 
one person has purchased all of items used. We've checked 
warehouses and factories for robberies and missing stock 
but once again drawn a blank." 

"We have contacted the FBI and they are carrying out their 
own investigation, liasing with us when required. However 
they are no nearer than we are to finding the killer. They did 
a physiological profile of the killer as well as the 
aforementioned psychological one but all it told us was that 
he is a white male, from 5'5 to 6 foot. Maybe overweight. In 
other words fuck all."

"You can find more detailed reports of all the above in your 
notes.  Now questions."

A hand went up. A young cop probably just transferred to 
homicide. She looked shocked at the horrific detail she'd just 
been shown.

"Sir, could you tell us if you have worked out why the killer 
is going for increasing beautiful women?"

"We have some theories on that.  The one I go with is that he 
sees a woman as an unattainable thing. The more beautiful 
the more out of reach she is. Once he has conquered one 
level of beauty he moves onto the next," Scott said. 

"Why haven't we gone public with this?" another cop asked.

"Good question. We had Stephanie Lane snooping around a 
while ago but she agreed to keep it under wraps when we 
explained our reasoning. In fact the entire media have 
agreed to a complete news black out."

"Which is?" another cop asked.

"I was coming onto that. Firstly, imagine the panic if this got 
out, fear would ripple thru the whole community. Secondly, 
there's the copycat factor, the last thing we want is for some 
nutcase to start copying what he reads. Third, we need to 
keep the killer in the dark. The less he knows the more likely 
he is to make a mistake. Stephanie Lane saw the wisdom in 
this and has got broad agreement from all her press 
colleagues. The timing of this Bexley trial circus works for 
us as well. While everyone's wondering why Dr Bexley did it 
we can get on with proper police work."

There was a knock at the door. "Yes," Scott called.

In walked Andrew holding a sheet of paper. "Scuse me. We 
got an ID on the girl last night," he said.

"Who was she?"

"Her name was Jennifer Lynn, aged 22. Her flat mate got 
worried when she didn't turn up after her audition last week. 
However she didn't report it as she thought Jennifer had 
found a partner for the week. Apparently it wasn't unheard 
of for her to go missing for a week and then just turn up 
again."

"OK people you heard that, Colin and Chris I want you to 
check on Jennifer Lynn's flat mate. The rest of you go back 
and check on all the details we have. The new boys here can 
go and read up for a couplea days. We'll meet here again 
Thursday to catch up. Dismissed," Scott said.

His team filed out silently, the chatter before the meeting 
extinguished by the seriousness of the job ahead.

Tina filtered her way thru the door and went to speak to 
Scott and Andrew.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi, got anything?"

"Nope, just a hunch though," she said.

"I'm listening," Scott said.

"Hey talk to you later, I gotta go. I've got to confirm a DNA 
test on Dr Elizabeth Bexley, in town," Andrew said.

"Not you too," Scott said. Another casualty of that damn 
case.

"Fraid so," Andrew replied.

"See ya," Tina said and Andrew walked out.

"What's this hunch?"

"Well I got thinking. He's moved on to actresses now, it's 
only a small step toward models. I think his next victim will 
be a model," Tina said.

"You maybe right. We went thru this a while back but he 
threw the scent by killing a waitress and a hairdresser. Since 
it now looks like it's beauty he's going for rather than 
occupation I want you to put the word out to all the 
agency's around here. Be discrete," Scott said.

"Hey, it's me, remember," Tina said and walked out.

-------------------------------------------------------

In another part of town He awoke. The glow of blessing had 
not yet departed from last night. Only another two to go and 
the evil of the world would be broken, the serpent's head 
crushed as foretold in Genesis. Once he had removed the 
twelve evil disciples then the world could finally be free...


------------------------------------------------
Please Mail darkside@nym.alias.net with your comments, requests for 
missing sections etc etc.



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