In a story I am currently still trying to flesh out entirely, a man is sleeping with a woman who tells him she is possessed by a Demon. The man isn’t sure whether or not to believe her, but she comes up with incredible tales so he likes to listen to her. She tells him that his job in a federal prison makes him important to her, and he laughs at this because he’s just a kitchen administrator, and he cannot affect the freedom of anyone. In fact, he’s never in the prison itself for more than a couple of hours a week, and he’s never in contact with any of the men held there. The man asks the women if she isn’t afraid he’ll tell someone about her, and she says she isn’t. Who would believe him, and after all, what evidence would there be? So he is enraptured by her striking good looks, her insatiable need for sex, and her stories of what it is like to possess people, and live inside their bodies.
One night, after they have both been drinking very heavily, and the sex has been really good to them both, the man asks her if the woman she is possessing likes the life she is living. The woman is a stripper, and she has told the man she loves to take married men home and film the sex they have. She blackmails them sometimes, and other times she threatens to blackmail them so they’ll do things for her. This is disturbing to the man, and he wonders if he might be blackmailed, but he has no wife, and honestly, he wouldn’t mind the whole world knowing what he and this woman has done together. He asks her about the woman she is possessing again, he had forgotten he had asked, and she laughs, and asks him if he would like to meet her. The man tells her yes, of course he would, and he thinks that she will close her eyes, her face might change slightly, and she’ll speak with a slightly different voice, something of that nature. The woman tells him she will do this, but not right now, and he is intrigued.
He tries to figure out who the woman is, because she just started working at the strip club a few months ago, and he wonders why she is interested in him at all. He’s pondered how he might free someone from the prison but he doesn’t think it would ever work. Maybe, the man tells himself, the woman is just a very intense liar, and she has some man in prison she wants to get out, and she figures this is a way to eventually meet someone who can help her. He doesn’t socialize with the other members of the staff and deep down inside, he’s incredibly flattered to have this woman giving him the sex he is getting. He cannot figure out how he could be of any use to her at all, and he’s loving how useful she is to him.
One night, as they are in bed, and things are just reaching the point past foreplay she whispers to him, now, now, she says, I’ll let you meet her. The woman begins screaming, screaming, screaming, and trying to fight him off of her, kicking, biting, scratching him, and attacking him while screaming. The intensity of the assault is so great he cannot keep her off of him and finally he strikes her, punches her hard in the face and she falls away from him.
That’s her, the woman says, and that’s how she feels about all of this. She isn’t very happy about what’s going on inside, and the outside isn’t much better. She wipes the blood from her lips and asks the man if he really wants to continue seeing her. His heart rate is going through the roof, and for the first time since he began seeing her, he feels fear, real fear that something is incredibly wrong here, and the reality of a women being this crazy is beginning to sink in. Yet, even though all of this, she is beautiful, and she asks him to hold her, and he feels bad now, for hitting her, even though he is bleeding from a half dozen wounds.
What is the purpose, he asks her, weeks later, of possession? He’s toying with the idea of asking her to marry him. Yes, certainly, she is crazy, but the sex is great, and she seems to be an endless source of ideas, and positions, and oh god it has never been like this before. Mostly, the woman explains, it’s a question of housing, and amusement. I have to have somewhere to stay, or I’ll be killed, and the only way to keep my host human quiet is to terrorize it, er, her, into submission. He laughes at her funny stories and decides that she needs him to keep her from being hauled away to some institution.
She leaves him, and finds another man, a man bigger and more dangerous than he can deal with. Everywhere he goes in the city he runs into them together, and he begins to drink heavily and he finds nothing in life but despair. He sends her roses, jewelry, and frantically calls her day and night, to no avail. Finally, one night, she comes to him, and tells him she has to know that he will obey her in some things, in things that she wants done, and he has to do these things without question. Anything, he tells her, if you will stay. I will stay, I will return to you, but here, take this package, there is a drug in it, and you must mix this drug in with the prison food. The drug will make the men inside the prison hallucinate, and I will be amused by it. No, I cannot, he tells her. Then good bye and…no, wait, I will do it, please do not go.
The man awaits trial, trying to explain to his lawyer why he poisoned two hundred men, fifty-seven of whom died, and all that he has to show for his tale is a dead woman, who committed suicide in his house the day of the murders.