Page 39 of Noctis

“He was asleep.”

I let out a frustrated breath. Apparently, this is what happened when you tried to confide in the monster in your room: you received answers that only created more questions.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I just wanted confirmation that he was here, and you gave me that. Thank you. I appreciate it. I guess the doctor and I are going to have another conversation, and this time I’ll be far more blunt. He doesn’t get to come in here, fuck me, and then pretend it never happened. One man has already treated me like shit.” I laughed bitterly. “Sorry, two men… Remy needs including. Anyway, I’m not adding a third to the list.”

“You can speak to the doctor, but he won’t remember.”

I rounded on him. “Of course he’ll remember.”

Caligo glided forward, the movement still as unnatural as ever, and stopped an arm’s length away. “You wouldn’t let me touch you. I wanted to touch you.”

“I…” There was no suitable answer to an accusation that direct. “I’m still getting used to you. I know you’re not evil or anything, but…” I waved a hand at him as though his shadowy form explained the problem for me.

“I changed my appearance for you to make it more palatable.”

“You did, and it helped. But…”

“I wanted to touch you.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that.”

“You wouldn’t let me, so I took matters into my own hands.”

Every internal alarm I possessed began sounding at once. “What do you mean?”

“I borrowed the doctor.”

“Borrowed?”

“He was asleep.”

That same damn sentence again. “What did you do to him?”

“I wore him like a suit of armor.”

Cold spread through my chest. I searched desperately for some interpretation other than the obvious one, but came up short. “You can’t wear people. That’s not possible.”

“It is for me.”

I sat heavily on the end of the bed and buried my head in my hands while I tried to think. “Explain to me, in very simple terms, what you mean when you say you wore him like a suit of armor?”

“I filled up every part of his being.”

I lifted my head. “You possessed him?”

“Yes.”

“Was it painful for him?”

“He stayed asleep. I made sure of it.”

“And then you came in here and had sex with me using his body.” I hadn’t realized I’d stood and begun backing away until I reached the wall and had nowhere left to go. “That’s not possible.”

“If you say so.”

“Tell me you’re making it up. Tell me this is some sick story you concocted to mess with my head.” It was a poor choice of words when he was apparently admitting that he’d done far more than fuck with me.

He glided toward me, stopping about three feet away, his head tilted as though he were trying to understand my reaction. “You enjoyed yourself.”