Allure of Dreams Ch. 01

AN: Sorry for the wait. I was initially planning on continuing Drawn into Passion, but I found it difficult to write due to the game setting. I therefore decided to start a new series in a more traditional setting, which is easier for me to write and therefore quicker to update. I'll still continue Drawn into Passion at some point.

This series is set in the same general universe as Drawn into Passion, but with some differences that won't be apparent until later on.

~~~~

Mark stepped off the bus. Unlike most days, there was no one else on the bus, with the obvious exception of the driver. The others had all already got off to attend one of the several parties being held to celebrate the completion of their high school years. The drinking, dancing and other activities would no doubt continue well into the night, to the disapproval of their parents.

Ironically, Mark's own parents would have loved for him to be partying like the rest. A few years back, they would have been yelling at him to "go out and socialise" and complaining about his lack of friends. Now, when he walked through the front door, all he got were bored glances of acknowledgement.

Upon arriving home, Mark trudged up the stairs and headed straight for his room. He set down his backpack, pulled a bundle of paper out of a cupboard and returned to his daily routine of drawing.

Mark had covered hundreds of sheets of paper with his drawings. Some were black and white while others were coloured to varying degrees. Some depicted people while others depicted landscapes. The earliest ones were utter crap that were unrecognisable as their intended subjects, while the later ones could charitably be described as above-average. All of it revolved around one central theme -- "monster girls".

It had been about five or six years back. Mark was then just starting to migrate from reading any book he came across to reading any website he came across. He'd thought of writing a fanfiction and was browsing for things to include in it. It was then that he saw a picture of a woman with horns, bat-like wings and a spaded tail -- a succubus.

From that point, Mark had become absolutely obsessed with the idea of supernaturally-beautiful women with exotic, inhuman features. He'd scoured the internet for any monster girl media he could find and voraciously devoured it all. He'd incorporated several monster girls into his fanfiction, though that hadn't improved its abysmal quality. Every waking moment that wasn't devoted to school or family was devoted to reading, watching, drawing and -- in more recent years -- masturbating to all things monster girl. Every sleeping moment was spent dreaming of monster girls, being lost in a fantastic world where every inhabitant lusted for him.

Of course, Mark was fully aware of how silly it was. However, he reasoned to himself, it wasn't entirely pointless. Mark was planning on pursuing a career in art and, even if he didn't end up drawing monster girls, he believed that his experience would still be valuable. Recently, he'd been making an effort to improve the quality of his drawings and started doing serious research. For example, to make his characters look like more than disjointed and grotesque blobs, he'd read up on both human anatomy and the biology of many kinds of animals and plants.

While Mark was engrossed in his current task -- adding the finishing touches to a depiction of a lush forest -- he heard his mother cry out, "Mark, it's time for dinner!"

Mark fumbled his pencil in surprise, creating a blemish on his drawing. He cursed, but decided that he could always fix it later.

When Mark went down to the dining room, he noticed that the dinner was rather more lavish than usual. On top of that, his parents were waiting for him to arrive, as opposed to their normal routine of starting dinner without him.

Mark's father stood up from his seat and said, "Hey, Mark. Please, have a seat first."

Mark was slightly confused but did as he was told.

"Now, I won't beat around the bush -- we haven't been the best parents so far," Mark's father continued. "We've been trying to -- to mould you into what we wanted you to be, rather than let you be what you wanted to be."

"That's right," Mark's mother said, with a smile on her face. "After all, looking at things objectively, your grades are good, you don't get into trouble -- most parents would beg to have a kid with just one of those two things."

Mark blinked, unable to formulate a response.

"That's right," Mark's father said. "So, starting from tonight, the two of us would like to make it up to you. For everything that we've done wrong."

And with that, they started having dinner in a manner reminiscent of a normal family.

Of course, it wasn't that simple. In hindsight, Mark should have noticed something wrong at that point.

After finishing dinner, Mark's parents advised him to go to bed early, since he had to be tired from the day's exams. He decided to follow this advice for once.

Mark showered, brushed his teeth and changed into his pyjamas. While lying in bed, he went through a cycle of breathing in deeply, holding his breath for a few seconds, then breathing out -- a ritual he followed to help him sleep well. After that, he pulled out a sheet of paper from inside his pillow to perform the last element of his daily routine.

It was a drawing of a succubus who was one of his original characters. If he were a hack writer, he'd describe her in such terms as: "Her hair was like a thousand strands of gold spun into silk, her eyes like emeralds sparkling in the sun. The features of her face would make a master artist despair at trying to reproduce her flawless beauty. The bountiful delights of her hourglass figure would incite envy in a goddess of fertility." Her name was Serena.

Even Mark knew that it was pathetic to depend on a fictional character to such an extent. Still, she kept him functional on a day to day basis, and nobody else knew about her, so what was the harm?

After burning Serena's appearance into his mind, Mark put the drawing back, turned off the light and closed his eyes. He allowed himself to slip from the world of reality and into the world of fantasy.

In his mind's eye, Mark pictured a beach in an unspecified tropical paradise. At this point, he couldn't tell if he was imagining it while awake or dreaming it while asleep. Either way, it didn't matter.

Mark was naked save for a pair of swimming trunks, allowing him to feel the warm sun and the soft sand directly. But he wasn't alone.

With foresight born of considerable experience, Mark reached out behind him and caught a bundled-up towel before it struck him in the head. Laughing, he turned around.

"Are you done gawking, idiot?"

The person who said that was a woman with blonde hair that reached her waist, green eyes, and a gorgeous figure that was barely contained in her flame-red bikini. Black wings extended from her back, while a spaded tail emerged from just above her bikini bottom and flicked about impatiently. The succubus had her hands on her hips and a peeved expression on her face.

"I was just taking in the scenery, Serena," Mark said.

Serena rolled her eyes. "Like you would be interested in that," she said. "So, what's it this time? Do you want to go swimming? Surfing? Do you want to tear off my swimsuit, push me down and fuck my brains out?"

"Actually, I was just thinking of making a sandcastle," Mark replied.

"Really?" Serena said, raising an eyebrow. "That's... childish even coming from you. Then again, I guess I should thank you for choosing that. This kind of bikini isn't made for any real physical activity -- " she demonstrated this by slightly pulling on her top to expose a nipple, causing Mark to blush, " -- and doing it on the sand wouldn't just be uncomfortable, it would be outright painful."

While grumbling in the manner that Mark had come to expect from her, Serena waved her arms and two oversized plastic spades appeared in her hands. She handed one of them to Mark and the two of them started digging.

It was odd, Mark mused to himself. When he'd first created Serena, he'd used her appearance to do something that most teenage boys in his position might have done. But around half a year ago, while he was immersed in dreams, he happened across Serena and she'd seemed... real. He never had any trouble distinguishing dreams from reality before that, but this Serena had an impression of colour and depth to her that confused him. And then there were her first words, which would forever be engraved in his memories: "Who are you -- wait, why the hell are you naked!?"

Incidentally, the answer to that question was: "Because I'm planning on getting laid with an imaginary monster girl." But he hadn't said that at the time.

Mark had been so shocked that he'd immediately woken up. It was some time before he was willing to try contacting Serena again.

Over the course of several nights, he'd learned more about Serena. As far as she knew, she had simply popped into existence one day, fully intelligent and with her current appearance. She could seemingly reshape the world around her at will, to the point that conjuring objects from thin air was a trivial task. But there were no other people in the world, except when Mark arrived. There weren't even any animals or plants -- the best she could manage was realistic-looking fake plants.

Interestingly, this strange world seemed to reflect the real world. When Mark read a book, Serena would be able to conjure it from then on, though she wouldn't know the book's contents until she read it herself.

It hadn't taken long for Serena to figure out the apparent cause of her existence. Between her appearance as well as Mark's during their first meeting, it was fairly obvious. After that, she behaved in an even more caustic fashion towards Mark than before.

But despite that, she had been subtly considerate towards Mark these past few months. For example, when he was struggling with one fiendishly-difficult assignment, she'd helped him organise his notes and think of the topic that had allowed him to score 88% on said assignment. Whenever asked about this, Serena would say something along the lines of, "Because you're the only person I can talk to, idiot. I would go mad in less than a week without your company. I can't afford to piss you off."

When his memories reached that point, Mark shook his head. It was just another aspect of his idiocy, Mark reasoned. Logically, Serena was just a figment of his imagination, an embodiment of his subconscious desires. Though, judging from the way she helped him keep track of the real world and the fact that Mark had never tried anything sexual with her from that first meeting, she was apparently his desires fused with his self-control as well.

Serena must have noticed Mark's odd behaviour, because she stopped and asked, "Hey, are you alright?"

Mark flinched and quickly replied, "I'm fine, it's -- it's nothing."

Serena frowned and put down her spade. "Listen, I don't have anyone else to talk to, so believe me when I say I know how you think. There's something wrong. Tell me."

Mark hesitated, then explained his parents' recent change of heart.

Once she'd heard the full story, Serena frowned. She said, "This might sound a bit weird, but I think something's wrong. The way you tell it, they were acting too nice."

"To be honest, I got that impression as well," Mark said. "But it's probably because they haven't been nice at all for years. It's no wonder that they look strange when doing something that they're not used to."

"Maybe," Serena said. "Still, I wonder... "

"Don't worry about it," Mark assured her. "It's not like they're plotting to murder me or something."

Serena punched Mark playfully. "Don't joke about that," she said. "If you die, what would happen to me?"

Mark looked away for a moment. "Well," he began, "I'm pretty sure that -- "

Suddenly, Mark felt a searing pain. It was like a thousand red-hot needles had all pierced his body at once. The idyllic scene of the beach was torn away, to be replaced by almost complete darkness.

Alarmed, Mark tried to stand up, but his body refused to obey him. His limbs merely twitched when he tried to move them. Even breathing was agonisingly difficult. As his vision began to adapt to the darkness, two figures came into view.

"So you're not dead yet?" said a male voice. "Damn. Guess I lost that bet."

"Ugh, he's drooling," said a female voice. "Good thing we pulled him out of bed first. Would have been a pain in the ass to clean otherwise."

"I'm guessing you're wondering what's happening, Mark," said the male voice, in a disarmingly-cheerful manner. "Well, to be honest, I've been wanting to say this to you as well, for a very long time." The man's voice took a harsher tone. "Mark, you are nothing but a useless waste of space. It's all because of you that the two of us haven't been able to have lives of our own. I can't believe we bothered to raise you for the past eighteen years!"

"But don't worry," said the female voice, "your death, unlike your entire life, isn't going to be useless. Your life insurance will give us more than you would have ever earned. And all because of an unfortunate accident with a power cable. You really should have been more careful, Mark."

One of the figures was holding a long and thin object which Mark now recognised as a cable. They began to move it towards Mark. He struggled to move, to do something.

Then the pain returned, but only for a few seconds. Then Mark could feel nothing. The darkness became absolute.

It can't be -- were they -- no, there's no way -- they would never -- it can't be -- it can't be --

Help me... It can't end like this... I don't want to die...

"...Mar -- "

As his heart stopped, as his thoughts faded, Mark heard a voice.

***

He felt a breeze on his bare skin. It was slightly warm, almost pleasant even, to the point that he didn't want to move a muscle.

He soon realised that he was lying on the ground. He could feel the soil and leaf litter underneath his body. It should have been uncomfortable, if not outright painful, but for some reason he didn't feel like getting up.

The cry of some unseen animal broke the silence. The young man was startled and opened his eyes.

He realised that he was in the middle of a strange forest. It was quite dark -- the sun was low in the sky, and the little light it gave off was mostly obscured by the canopy. When he sat up, he realised to his surprise that he was completely naked.

How did I end up here? He thought. Why aren't I wearing anything? Is this a dream? It has to be... I just need to wake up.

He pinched himself. When that didn't work, he tried everything else that came to mind: shaking his head vigorously, opening his eyes as wide as possible in an attempt to open his actual eyes, and eventually yelling as loudly as he could. None of it was remotely successful.

Okay, so it seems like it isn't a dream. In that case, I need to think. How did I end up here? What was I doing before?

He scoured his memories, trying to find clues to his current situation. This led him to realise another important fact.

What was I doing yesterday? ...I can't remember. Then before that... wait... that can't be right, I can't remember any of it. There has to be something wrong.

Getting to his feet, the young man took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself.

Okay, ___, it looks like my memory's hazy. Did I get drunk last night? Amnesia is one symptom of drunkenness, isn't it? Anyway, first of all, I have to figure out where I am.

He looked up at the trees and thought of climbing one to get a better vantage point. He dismissed that idea almost as soon as it entered his mind. With no climbing gear of any sort, climbing a tree was a quick route to either immediate death, or crippling injuries that would then result in an agonising death. And that was without going into the effects of tree bark rubbing against certain parts of the body.

His thoughts then turned to trying to call for help, only to immediately remember his current state of undress. He tried looking around to see if any of his belongings were nearby, but there was nothing but overgrown vegetation.

He then decided to prioritise his immediate survival needs. He didn't feel hungry or thirsty, but from what he remembered, exposure was a major threat to people in the wilderness. It was still warm right now, but it would undoubtedly get cold quickly once the sun went down. He needed to find some kind of shelter. His lack of clothes would be a considerable handicap -- he didn't want to cut himself and get an infection -- but he could hardly do anything about that right now.

That sure is a lot of survival information... I still can't believe that a ___ ____ ______ got lost in who-knows-where despite it. Just how do I know all that? Wait...

He crouched down and struggled to remember something that even the worst drunkard wouldn't have forgotten. But all his attempts were fruitless. All that came to mind were random bits of trivia, like the circumference of the earth or the chemical reactions involved in photosynthesis. None of it was what he was really after.

Who... am I!? What's my name? How come I can't remember that!?

He didn't know how long he spent there, trapped by confusion. What finally brought him to his senses was the sound of leaves being crunched underfoot. He jumped to his feet, frantically wondering if it was some kind of wild animal. But when he spotted the humanoid shapes approaching, he was seized by an incredible sense of relief. He didn't even mind that he was still naked.

Then they came into clear view, and his thoughts skidded to a stop.

They were three women -- that part was immediately apparent as they were just as naked as the young man was. But they were definitely not human. Their limbs were covered in yellow fur with a strange pattern of black spots. Their faces had a distinctly animalistic atmosphere: eyes with slitted pupils, triangular ears, enlarged canine teeth. Emerging from just above their ample butts were tails, which waved about in an excited fashion.

Monster girls? In real life? No, this has to be a dream -- that's why I can't remember anything. But it all feels so real...

All three of them were staring at the young man with an expression of... it could only be described as a mixture of hunger and lust.

One of the monster girls spoke, "Hi there, cutie. What's someone as tasty as you doing in a place like this?"

"Oh, I know the answer!" Another monster girl said. "It must be because he's here to feed us!"

"Hmm, he's a little small," said the third, "but I always find the smaller ones to be the tastiest."

The three monster girls giggled. It sounded ominous to the young man's ears... but he couldn't shake the growing sense of arousal he also felt.

D -- don't tell me they're the kind who eat people!? Unless they're using it as a euphemism for -- for sex, like in that encyclopedia -- wait, how do I know that?

The young man backed up against a tree. This only served to embolden the monster girls, who continued to approach and began surrounding him. He did his best to look away from their bodies, which he couldn't help but realise were absurdly attractive. Their breasts were large but without any traces of sag, their hips wide and suggestive of fertility. Their skin was flawless and had a faint sheen, as if slightly wet. On top of it all, they gave off a distinct earthy smell that appealed to his baser instincts.