dybbuk box

Maybe I do think Hell is full and maybe, just maybe, I know for a fact that devils roam among us.

Maybe I found one.

Maybe I know one; and maybe he laughs like sin is a flight of fancy while he watches from his solicitous shadows. Enticing, that daemon, he ignites a barely controlled passion that burns just below the surface. It’s not fair, the way he teases, the horns on his head hidden well from prying eyes, but not from me. Never from me.

I am caught tonight, trying to get drunk and failing. Pissed off and glowering over the half empty bottle, a devil sneaks up behind me. What an unsuspecting meal I must appear, and he chuckles when I round, snarling with my teeth bared. Oh Spite!!

“You sought out a devil and now you’re shocked that you found one,” a devilishly handsome man with brightly shining eyes states, an unrecognizable expression on his face as he sits  and pulls me into his lap.

A girl could have melted then, when those perfectly evil lips beg for a bite.

Now it is my turn to laugh. And I do, not unkindly and with a certain hunger coloring the tone enough to widen his smile. With zero regret, I laugh again, this time with glee. “I am not shocked that I found a devil,” I murmur from my new place into the ear of his human suit; his need is a new pressure on my flesh, as is a burning touch across my thighs and on my waist.

Smiling, my masque slips and the sharp intake of breath upon sight of the ugly dust underneath is soul food. “No sweetheart, I’m not shocked to find a devil. I’m only surprised I’ve trapped one so quickly.”



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