Wrong Name 07.

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***Chapter Five***

When Dion woke up in the morning, something felt different. It only now occurred to him that ever since life had started to go awry, there had been a weight on his shoulders. It had always felt like life was trying to grind him into the ground. Try as he would to keep standing and forging forward, it had always felt like something was draining him every second of every day. Now, however, he felt light as a feather. The weight that had been chained to his back all this time was now gone.

When Dion tried to stretch, he became aware of the other occupant on his bed. Memories of the previous night flowed into his mind as he opened his eyes to regard the fiery red skin of the demoness he was currently big-spooning. Dion didn't know whether it was by design, or simply that she didn't care either way, but he was still stark naked. She hadn't put his clothes back on him after she was done with her ritual.

Once again, Dion didn't know whether it was the result of them moving around at night, or because she had consciously put them in the position they were in. Each of his hands, however, was currently holding on to the luscious mounds that were her breasts. And his stiff rod was now comfortably nestled in between her thighs. Dion was hard because of morning wood, not arousal. That, however, changed very quickly as he looked down to find Lythia's ass pressed up against his waist. Right now, all he had to do was pull back slightly, angle upwards, and push forward and he would enter the temptress's innermost sanctum.

As if it had a mind of its own, his hand gave her breast a soft squeeze before it traced its way down her hourglass figure to her waist. Everything within Dion wanted to take the demon right there and then. Another part of him, however, vehemently fought against the first part. Not for any noble reasons, but simply because his ego wouldn't allow it. When the time came that he finally took her, it would be because she submitted to him. To use sneaky means to lose his virginity was beneath him, this part of him thought.

Clenching his jaws, Dion pulled his hand away from her waist and the other one from under her before stepping off the bed. Dion looked regretfully at the sexy demon sprawled out on his bed. A sigh left him as Dion looked down at his hard-on. A look of confusion crossed his expression as he studied his member. Like any other man out there, Dion was intimately familiar with his own dick. And it most certainly wasn't that big when he passed out the night before. A brow arched on his face as he turned to regard the demon. There was no other explanation for how he'd suddenly grown three inches longer and much thicker than he was before. Still, the side of his lips tilted upwards in a smirk as he turned around and walked to the bathroom.

When the door to his room closed behind Dion, Lythia's head rose off the pillow to look at the closed door. "Well, that's a first," She said with a slightly confused, slightly annoyed tone. "Have I lost my touch that much?" She asked herself, unable to believe that a man had walked away from her naked form.

Given how weakened she was, Lythia's initial plan had been to take part in as many orgies as she could orchestrate. With her ability to shape-shift and also to conceal her demonic aura, it would have been all too easy to do it covertly without leaving any traces for her pursuers to follow. After last night and the potent life essence that she had gotten from the boy, however, Lythia found herself thinking that she wouldn't even have to bother. After the initial annoyance was passed, a smile crossed her lips. "They always taste better when they try to play hard to get," She said as she allowed her head to once again rest on the pillow. After thousands of years of meditation on a cold stone floor, the bed came as close to heaven as a being like her would ever get.

When Dion was done showering, he wrapped a towel around himself and stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway only to run into Nadia, his older sister. Like him, she had flame-red hair, a trait they'd inherited from their mother. Unlike his, however, hers reached down to the small of her back. Unlike him, also, her eyes were a chestnut brown like their fathers.

Nadia was a bit small in the bust department, managing only a B cup. But what she lacked in breasts, she more than made up for when it came to her bubble butt. Before today, Dion had never looked at his sister sexually. The outward analysis of her was the simple result of the fact that they lived under the same roof and he wasn't blind. In this moment, however, Dion had to fight the urge to ask her to turn around just so he could appreciate her ass more. The fact that he was currently looking at his sister, didn't escape Dion. For some reason, however, it didn't mean anything to him. Despite their blood relation, his mind registered her as no different from any sexy woman he might meet out in the street.

"Move jackass!" His sister snarled in a waspish tone. Without waiting for him to comply, she moved forward, clearly intending to ram into him on her way into the bathroom. Contrary to what she had expected of her usually meek brother, Dion didn't move. When her shoulder ran into the side of his body, it was like she had run into a wall. Nadia's anger flared and she leaned into the shoulder fully intending to push him aside. But what she had meant to be her dismissal of Dion, morphed into an awkward silence as, despite her best efforts, she couldn't get him to budge even an inch.

Dion's head turned to the side to regard his struggling sister as something clicked in his mind. Watching her struggle, Dion figured something out. Dion was suddenly aware of what weight it was that he'd felt had left his shoulders when he woke up that morning. He no longer cared. The weight on his shoulders that had been growing heavier with each passing day was the care that he had for his family. Every day that he'd had drug-addicted parents and a sister who was slowly dying on the inside, it had weighed heavily on him.

Looking at the petty, nasty, and bitter bitch that Nadia had become, it occurred to Dion, that he honestly couldn't have given any less of a fuck. While she was in a horrible situation, it wasn't Dion that had put her there. Dion appreciated her for the fact that she had taken care of him. However, in his eyes, all the spite and venom she had thrown his way for the past few years, more than made up for whatever debt he might have owed her. Looking at her as she struggled pathetically against him, he felt nothing. Not love or hate. Neither pity nor anger. He was simply indifferent to the very fact of her existence.

Without warning, Dion moved out of her way faster than she could readjust her balance. Nadia was lucky that the door behind Dion had remained open, otherwise, she would have run face-first into it. Dion didn't even turn around to see if she had succeeded in breaking her fall. He simply walked back to his room.

Discarding the towel almost as soon as the door had closed behind him, Dion walked over to his wardrobe to retrieve the clothes he would wear for the day. "So what now?" He asked without turning to look at Lythia.

"Now, you go to school and I get to sleep in," Lythia replied lazily without bothering to lift her head off the pillow.

"You are a demon, you don't sleep," Dion replied as he pulled on a black t-shirt.

"Correction, I don't need to sleep, but I can if I want to," She replied.

"What, no orders for me today?" Dion asked turning to regard the demon on the bed with a curious expression.

"Nope," Lythia replied simply.

"Last night you seemed keen to take over the world and hell as you put it," Dion stated. "What's changed?" He asked, sounding a bit confused.

"Nothing!" she replied, her head rising off the pillow to turn and look at him. Suddenly, her voice was no longer lazy or easy-going as it had been just a second before. In it was a cold and unwavering determination. She meant to do all that she had said the night before. "But you are human," she went on to say. "To you, soon means anywhere between the next minute to the next hour," She informed him. "To a demon thousands of years old like me, soon means anywhere between the next minute to the next century," She replied calmly.

"I'll first lay low for a year or so before I begin my plans," She informed him. "You better enjoy yourself in this one year, because once we begin, you'll be lucky to have ten seconds to breathe," She informed him. From the look in her eyes, Dion could see that she was dead serious.

Dion nodded, silently acknowledging her words. "What about me?" He asked.

"What about you?" Lythia replied with an arched eyebrow.

"Our agreement was that you would make me stronger," He replied in a tone that relayed that whether she planned to take it easy or not, he didn't.

For a while, Lythia looked at him like he was brain damaged or something. Getting off the bed, the demon walked over to him. "How many times do I have to tell you?" She asked rhetorically. "You are full of a demon lord's soul energy.," She said. "The only reason you don't already have all the abilities that that amount of soul energy would give you is because your body isn't yet strong enough to handle it," She replied. In a burst of flames that startled Dion, a small knife appeared on Lythia's palm. Turning the handle towards Dion, she said, "here." Dion looked down inquisitively at the blade but took it from her nonetheless. "Cut yourself with it," She instructed once the knife was in his hand.

"What?" Dion asked looking up from the knife to her with an incredulous look.

"Doesn't have to be a long cut, three inches will do. Try to go a bit deep though," She replied as if the length of the cut was what mattered. "I have no reason to hurt you, Dion," Lythia said in a flat tone when Dion remained still looking at her with a look of suspicion. "Now are you going to do it or not?" She posed in a tone that relayed that she didn't care either way.

After a few seconds of hesitation, Dion clenched his jaws tightly. With a quick swipe, Dion opened a deep cut across his left palm. Dion hissed through gritted teeth as he felt the stinging pain of the injury. Before he could reflexively close the fingers of the injured hand, however, Lythia took hold of his fingers to keep it open. Pain was a familiar friend to Dion, as such, other than gritting his teeth, he remained calm and looked down at his wound to see what the demon had been trying to achieve by having him injure himself.

The first thing that Dion noticed was the fact that his palm wasn't bleeding even half as much as it should have been. After just a minute of observing it, the bleeding had already stopped even though the wound was still very much open and with no clots in sight. It was almost as if his blood just simply refused to leave his body. After another minute, Dion's eyes widened as he watched his flesh slowly start to pull together as if someone was zipping up the wound. It wasn't dramatically fast. In fact, if he wasn't actively watching the wound, he wouldn't have noticed it. About three minutes after the wounded hand began to close, the cut that should have taken two weeks or so to heal was completely gone.

Dion's incredulity at what he was looking at was interrupted by Lythia's voice. "Well that was pathetically slow," The demon said. She had clearly expected the healing process to have been faster. "Even an imp heals faster than that," She commented as if she was disappointed. "I'd strongly advise against getting hit in any of your vitals or major blood vessels," She said as if Dion would have done it if she didn't warn him against it. "You don't yet heal fast enough to survive it," She said as she took the knife from him.

Dion reflexively winced and recoiled in shock when the demon plunged the knife into her own shoulder. Unlike how quick Dion had been when he cut himself, she slowly pulled the knife down the side of her arm till it reached her wrist. Not only did she not spill even a single drop of blood, but there also wasn't even a wound left behind. It was almost as if as soon as the knife was pulled forward and out of the way, her flesh would immediately reseal itself leaving behind no trace that she'd even been hurt.

"In short, my soul energy is slowly changing you, Dion," she explained. "Physically," She said looking down at his healed palm. "Mentally," She went on, turning to look him in the eye. "And even more importantly, supernaturally," She stated. "The stronger you get, the more of my powers you will gain access to." She informed him. "How fast that happens, however, is entirely up to you," She said. "My part of the bargain has already been upheld, Dion. I'm even giving you time to become accustomed to the changes. So you better be ready to answer when I do call you into action," She said.

"So what are they?" Dion asked. "Apart from speedy healing, what other mysterious powers do you have?" he further clarified.

"Now where is the fun in that?" Lythia asked, the side of her lips tilting up in a smirk. "You want to know what power you have? Then grow stronger and get them. Otherwise, you had no right to know them in the first place," She replied.

"Come on, you already told me about the healing, another hint wouldn't hurt," Dion countered.

"Fine then," Lythia replied in a strange voice. Dion felt the hair on his skin stand on end as he felt his arousal suddenly shoot through the roof. "This is called charm," Lythia continued to speak in the same tone. Meanwhile, Dion's dick which had softened by then once again turned to a steel beam tenting the pants he'd just put on. "It's the simplest and most basic of my abilities so it shouldn't be too much for you to try," As the demoness continued to speak, Dion's hands were tightly clenched as images of the succubus bent over and his dick pumping in and out of her warm, tight snatch flashed in his mind.

"You simply use your voice to tap into your target's deepest most intimate sexual fantasies," She stated with a smile. Dion could see that she enjoyed the torment that she knew she was putting him through. Dion, however, was able to find the willpower to fight against the urges that were currently ravaging his body. Part of it was because what he had endured from the demon the night before had been far more intense than this, making his current level of arousal pale in comparison. The main reason that he maintained control, however, was because Dion was very keen to find out what abilities he might have gotten from the demon.

"It doesn't matter how repressed the fantasy is, if this voice is used correctly, it will drag it kicking and screaming to the target's awareness," She relayed. "I'm a demon lord with thousands of years of experience using it. So much so that it's become second nature to me. So don't beat yourself up too much if you can't do it half as good as I do," She stated.

"Lastly congratulations," Dion had been fighting his base instinct so much that he almost missed it when Lythia finally stopped using her charm voice on him. Despite her words, Dion couldn't help but noticed that she seemed to be a bit miffed. "You are the only man to have ever successfully resisted my charm," She said. "Now off you go," she said with a shooing motion.

"Wait, that's it?" Dion asked not sounding the least bit happy. "What about Keith and his gang? I need something I can use against them!" He said.

"Tell me something, does Keith or any of his friends have a girlfriend?" Lythia asked in return, not the least bit bothered by his displeasure.

"Why the fuck would I care if..." Dion suddenly went silent mid-sentence as it clicked in his mind what Lythia was suggesting.

"One thing you will learn while you are in my service, Dion, is that there is more than one way to destroy a person," She said with a smile before turning around and walking back to the bed. Despite the amiable tone with which she said it, Dion couldn't help but feel that it was both advice and a warning from the demoness...

******

"Hi, Lara."

The blonde girl that had been picking books from her locker felt a chill run through her at the sound of the voice. Even without turning around, she could feel the power of the one who spoke. It made her feel small and vulnerable, like a lamb in the face of a wolf. Without intending to, her legs pressed together as she felt her pussy become wet. When she turned around, however, her disappointment could be seen on her face as she saw who it really was that was standing behind her.

In the thirteenth district, there weren't any cheerleaders or school sports for that matter. The fact that kids still attended school in this district was in itself a marvel for her. Still, if there was a pecking order in this school, she stood at the top for the girls. Not only was she the most attractive in terms of faces, her curves had every guy in school trying to hit on her or wishing that they had the courage to.

Beyond the looks, however, Lara also had a cold and calculating mind. She didn't have smarts in the bookworm sort of way, nor did she usually ace her tests. She did, however, understand the situation that she was in and act accordingly. Born to a single mother in the thirteenth district, she didn't have illusions about one day leaving this place and moving to a better district. That isn't to say that she didn't hope to do it, she just recognized that the odds were against her. There was a higher likelihood of her ending up as one of the crime statistics or one of the countless whores in the thirteenth district.

That's the primary reason she dated her boyfriend and also how she knew the boy before her. Keith may not have been the biggest boy in the high school, he, however, was definitely the toughest. Not only was he an excellent fighter as a result of the many fights he usually got in, but he was also tough beyond belief. Lara had seen him emerge victorious from fights she never would have thought him capable of winning, simply because he was unwilling to give in. In a dangerous district like the one she lived in, it didn't take Einstein to figure out why having a strong guy like Keith willing to protect her, was essential.

The boy before him was the one that had transferred into the district a few years back. She had only met the boy before her once before. Yet, that memory was not the easy kind to forget. He had been waiting at her locker with a hoodie on. When she got close, he had pulled back the hoodie to reveal a badly beaten face. And from the way he grimaced with every movement, it was clear that his injuries weren't restricted to just his face.

"T... this is what your boyfriend did to me," He had stuttered without even introducing himself. "I've done nothing to him to deserve this!" He had said, the injustice of it all clear to be heard in his voice.

At the time, Lara's jaws had clenched. She'd already known about it. The day before, when she'd met with Keith, his knuckles had been bruised. When she'd asked him about it, Keith had laughed and said that they were just giving the rich kid a welcome to the thirteenth. Lara had known that he had beaten the new kid up. She, however, hadn't known just how bad it was until then. Worse still, some part of her didn't want to know.

"What the hell do you want from me?" That had been her harsh reply.

For a second, he had seemed short of words. Almost as if he couldn't understand how someone could see what had been done to him and remain indifferent to his suffering. This, however, was the Thirteenth District. Here the strong survived and the weak died. There was no justice or morality to it. It's just simply the way things were. It wasn't her fault if he was too weak to defend himself. And she most certainly wouldn't put herself in any danger trying to shield him.