9:50AM, Thursday, August 20th, 2009.

We observe Leonard Weston, a young boy of 12 years in his bedroom. His pants down to his knees, furiously jacking off to fellatio vids on an internet porn site.

His parents have gone to an appointment downtown, entrusting the house to their young son, secure in the knowledge of his mental maturity keeping the house and himself safe. Perhaps in some other city, in some other state, this would be true.

However Springcreek, Vermont is not a normal town.

Supernatural things are awake in this place, and they have no regard for physical barriers.

The succubus floats through the air, moved by the faint yet insistent hunger of her ilk. She sniffs a whiff of raging sexual desire, and moves down towards the Weston household. The succubus licks her lips. It has been a long time since she's had a decent meal.

The succubus phases through the walls and floats above Leonard, her long tail unwinding. A delicious looking snack indeed, she thinks.

She wafts down in front of Leonard, still invisible to the boy, sits on his lap and slowly wraps her tail around his slender neck. She decides to make herself known.

Pop.

Leonard screams shrilly, his just barely adolescent voice cracking. He would have fallen backwards off of his chair onto the floor, but the succubus has a strong grip on him and holds him steady.

She smiles wickedly, and slides herself onto his slick, erect penis. She pumps herself up and down, pressing her breasts against the boy's shocked and frightened face. The succubus can feel him resisting, his skinny little hands scratching at her arms. Suddenly, he tenses up, and she can feel the hot ropes of his mana shoot up into her demonic womb. She can feel her own orgasm surging in her loins, and her muscles grip and squeeze with titanic force.

Unfortunately for young Leonard, this includes the prehensile tail wrapped around his pale white throat.

Young flesh splits apart as the tail rips through his neck, wrenching the boy's head off of his shoulders in a shower of highly pressurized arterial blood.

The succubus has her eyes closed as she basks in the pleasant afterglow of the first meal she's had in decades, only noticing the premature passing of Leonard when his rock hard penis goes limp inside her. She stares at the ragged neck stump, blood still spurting out in rapid pulses, slightly embarrassed. Leonard's head stares up at her from his lap.

His lips are moving, trying to form words. His eyes are as wide as dinnerplates, looking up at his killer in disbelief. The succubus is apologetic, leaving such a mess is considered a rookie mistake in succubus circles.