Chapter 1

Long have I looked back on the events of my life that have led me to this point. My name is Illiam a name I have chosen for myself, but I have not always had this name. I had a different name when I was human like you. I was a young man taking my first steps into manhood at the age of eighteen. Graduating high school I was looking forward to my future but I didn't know what path I would choose. A young virgin because of my personal beliefs I was waiting for the right woman. Unfortunately the woman who took it was not human at all and would take far more in the end. Let us begin how this new life of mine started just before that fateful night, after all that is why you are here isn't it? To learn how I became what I am an Incubus.

My friends were very different than you might expect. They did not share in my beliefs and were less morally conscience than I. Still we looked out for each other and they came to see me as their special project. They were determined to find this "right woman" so I could become a man and understand what sex was all about. Granted I knew all that books and other forms of media said about the subject sort of a little homework assignment among my group, but I had never actually done it. This is not to say there were not women I could ask to help me in this department. I was often enough that I was handsome, but I did not believe I could be a model or anything. I had a gut though I was physically fit.

I believed it would be some time before I found the woman of my dreams. Sadly the expression "Nice guys finish last" was indeed true indeed in my case. I wanted to have a family: Wife and children the whole nine yards. It was not something a lot of women at that age wanted.

But I digress let us continue with the story. I was hanging out with my friends at the mall. It was an average sized building with a number of storefronts. It existed in our quiet little suburb and was filled with people after school. I had fallen behind my friends, and lost them in the bustle and foot traffic. Dodging one man carrying a shopping bag I kept looking for my and ran straight into a woman.

Her shopping bags fell to the floor spilling their contents. Hurriedly I tried to pick them up and replace them in the bags. Turning towards her as I rose from my crouched position I began to mumble an apology. "Cleo?" I asked. There she was dressed in a pretty red dress. My beautiful Cleo: the woman of my dreams quite literally. Since I was eleven years old I had dreamt of her. No that is not true. I had seen her before that as far back as I could remember, but I was the first time I thought of her as more than a dear friend and kissed her. Cleo was always the same age as me. In a way we had grown up together. Every night I saw her.

She was my first love, my only love. Who could compare to my geek beauty? Taking her bags she stared at me her eyes with surprise and recognition. Turning on heel she hurried off. "Cleo!" I called after her. My confusion was evident as others stared after us as I rushed to catch up to her only to have her disappear. Why had Cleo run? Then the memories of those dreams we had shared came flooding back. Someone had always been chasing her. Tries as I might she had always run away as she had just now. I had never seen the man that caused her so much fear but I knew he was not human, and neither was she. On her part I did not care. She was my Cleo and it didn't matter to me what she was as oppose to who she was. It was that part that I loved and missed when I awoke each time as she fled. I wandered to the park near my home not wanting to face my parents. They were good parents who tried to understand their strange son. My mother and father tried often enough to be involved in their son Jeremy's life.

There in the park sat on the swings alone kicking the dirt beneath me with my sneakers. It was a chilly winter night going into Christmas I dug my hands into the pockets of my gray hooded sweater. The moon and the stars were my only lights. The nearest lamp was some distance away. It was then that she appeared.

How I loved how the moon caught her soft skin and black hair. I rose from the swing standing before her. Reaching out I touched her face. She smiled and closed her eyes leaning her head into my hand. Her hair fell over my fingers covering them from view. Opening her eyes she looked at me. Her gray eyes looked into mine. Drawing close her lips brushed mine as she watched for my reaction. Pressing against her I wrapped my arms around her waist giving her a deep kiss. I wanted stay like that forever but I felt her drawback. "You are in danger." Cleo said. "I know." I replied. I knew what would happen next and I looked for the mysterious stranger that was sure to come. As I peered into the night's darkness I spied him beneath a lamp as he approached. I flipped my blade from its sheath in the handle. I heard the spring fire dropping it into place. The handle fit perfectly to my hand as I cradle the knife in my palm. Cocking my arm close to my body I readied my for the enemy rising to the balls of my feet. My father had been a former gang member and had experienced trouble with the law around my age. He had taught me every dirty trick he had ever learned hoping I would never have to use it. He didn't want his only child to be unable to defend himself. My childhood was full of such lessons. While most sons played catch with their dads or shot hoops I learned street fighting, and I turned out to be very good at it. It had served me a couple of times in the past with a group of guys tried to kick the crap out of me one summer. In the end I got a black eye and a bloody nose but I sent three of them to a hospital and the last one running for his life. None of them told the cops where they had gotten the cuts to do that they would have had to explain what they were doing. When my father heard about it he looked at it as my graduation to manhood, but my father was always different than the other dads. He and my mom were quite happy to have a schoolio as a number of kids called me. I was a product of a mixed marriage down to the core. My father was Hispanic Catholic while my mother was Jewish. They good parents in my opinion. Kind, loving, and understanding. I never wanted for anything I actually needed and I had food and a roof over my head.

Now as I faced the vampire from my nightmares and I strange enough the idea was not frightening. I felt at home in the night like I always felt letting it absorb me. When he attacked charging in my reflexes were lightning fast as I barely tracked his movements. When he came within striking range I stabbed my arm firing like a piston to sinking into his flesh. My arm quickly withdrew stabbing again and again. The male vampire howled in pain like a wounded animal trying to fend me off by striking at me. I neatly dodged time and time again my confidence rising as I darted in and out of his reach. Stabbing again I heard him growl in anger as he struck back. The back of his fist slammed into the side of my head leaving me reeling. A second blow struck crashed into my ribs shattering most of them on my right side. My vision came back into focus in time to see his hand lash out again. Grunting in pain I twisted out of the way and sliced his arm. How I managed to actually hold onto the knife at that point I'll never know, but I thanked God that I did. Using the last of my reserves I lunged forward stabbing with all of my might. The blade broke between two his ribs staying inside of him as drove the blade in and up. I heard his groans of agony as he left before I fell, as my legs buckled.