Incubus (American Horror AU 4)

Chapter 5

NOTE: This chapter is written mostly in first-person; David, the incubus, is sharing his story, hence the perspective.

Oh, darlin'. I'm more than that.

"Can you please tell us?" Eleonora asked, her green eyes fixed on the incubus in tandem with the unwavering gazes of the other witches.

What'd you like to know? I'll answer specific questions.

"Are you a demon?" Julie asked kindly, raising her hand like a schoolgirl in a classroom.

Indeed I am.

"But were you alive before?" Queenie questioned, admiring the crystal clear nature of his penetrating blue eyes. "Did you live a human life?"

Yes to both those questions.

As he snuck a glance over at Eleonora, entranced by his magnetic presence, he saw her raise her hand. "Please tell me how old you were when you died?"

Twenty-three.

"What year did you die?" Julie asked, her gray eyes fixed on him in a trance-like state as she ruffled her voluminous ice-blonde hair.

1985.

"Can you tell us more about you?" Zoe asked, her large, brown doe eyes looking up at him dumbfounded by his extraordinary shirtless physique. David's eyes peered at her, penetrating her soul and drawing her into a form of spiritual stupor.

Ma'am, be specific. What do you wanna know 'bout me?

"Your life," Zoe said, correcting herself. "Tell us more about your life, please."

Very well, ma'am.

I was born David Charles Loring on March 22, 1962 in a small town in South Carolina. My father owned a plantation, but we was of old blood money; we was of Scotch-Irish descent. My mama died when I was a baby. Rest her soul, I only seen her in pictures. Maids helped my dad out when he couldn't be with me. When I was three, my dad spent more time with me.

He wasn't the best dad on two legs, but he was still my dad. He was a fundamentalist Christian. He'd read me the Bible at bedtime so I'd know it by time I was full grown. Stories like the Creation, David n' Goliath, the Exodus, the Temptation of Christ, The Last Supper, the Crucifixion; they all became the stories I'd come to know by heart as years went by durin' my short life.

There were lots of 'thou shalt nots' in my childhood. If I even so much as said 'oh my god', my dad put me over 'is knee and belted me, rattlin' off a bunch o' verses and proverbs 'bout obedience to God and respect for Jesus. I was just wee, I didn't understand what he meant. All I did was cry as my bottom 'came red.

"You were abused?" Eleonora asked with shock.

Sorta. Lookin' back, I guess I kinda was abused. I remember he'd rattle off Bible verses whenever he didn't approve of what I done as a kid. Even if I stacked my plate full o'food, he'd call me out on it.

"Proverbs. 25:16," he told me once. "If you have found honey, eat only enough for you, lest you have your fill of it and vomit it."

Made me puke up my food once for eatin' too much. I was six or so. It was right after a revival at our church.

"Oh my god," Julie whined, nearly crying from the testimony of his life. "That's brutal! How could have done such a thing? And you were so young, too."