This here is my first attempt at a non crack Fright Night fic. I'm not sure how exactly I came up with the idea, but somehow I thought that Jerry would make a damn good couple with a succubus. And you know, he's sexy as hell and I was in the mood for writing something dark lol. I'm not really sure I'm happy with the end of this, and I might edit it. But please review and let me know what you think of it! :D
Disclaimer - I don't own anything from Fright Night, but boy do I wish I owned Jerry
She was young. She was small. She was unnaturally beautiful, ethereal even. Surely this young woman could not have been a killer. But appearances can be deceptive, horribly so, and this perfectly innocent appearance was her flawless disguise. Until she was to reveal her rightful form to her selected victim. In truth she was evil, an unholy demon as some put it. A highly skilled seductress, with a heart as black as her raven hair, who used her beauty, her eternal youth, and her deadly charms to lure men into their most helpless state, to rip them open and satiate her hunger for flesh and blood.
If you were so lucky to have gained enough of her...appetite, one's life would be spared, and granted the feel of her warmth firmly wrapped around him – that is, until she grew bored with them. In no way could she love, truly love someone. Yes there the few people she would keep herself from harming, even when she was most tempted, but love? Never would she meet a man who could drive her to such passions, but for a creature as wild, and dangerous, and cruel, and uncontrollable as she.
But Jerry was different. Humans had a certain scent, enthralling and luscious, and most enjoyable with the strongest of emotions. It intrigued her, however, to find that when it came to him she could smell nothing; even with her heightened senses.
But she paid no concern to that small factor. Instead what had bothered her – albeit until she had become familiar with the idea – was the complete lack of control. She knew what she liked, and what she wanted to play with, and then she would stop at nothing to capture her prey.
Before too long she noticed that she, too, had caught his eye, this hadn't surprised her, she could have any man fulfilling her desires with just a bewitching look – although her desires for them were rarely anything but a means of retaining her strength. She used her full potential to reel this one in. Openly flirting with attractive and suggestive remarks and then showing her availability to him. Alas, that her prowess was proven to have little effect upon her newfound interest, and rather he was more or less in control of their building relationship, left her vexed and confused.
It was then that she would figure that Jerry was not human. A suggestion that was sooner or later confirmed by his persistent and composed boldness and perfectly healed arm, seeming as though she had not taken a small chunk of his flesh, when she found it was time he knew of her little secret. It was then that she decided Jerry was her perfect choice for a mate.
To the outside world they looked to be the usual couple, his perfectly guiltless little princess who was attracted to the big strong man who protected her. Of course they were anything but. If only just for the fact they seemed to never need any rest. They were hazardous enough as it is alone, together they were a perilous nightmare, appearing normal and safe to approach until the sun has fallen and you are tempted and snared and tricked into your untimely death. Before celebrating their everlasting love and howling to the moonlight in animalistic ecstasy. Or otherwise taking the darkest hours to his advantage to leave their newest home whenever they would tire of it.
Occasionally they would give each other a gift of sorts in the form of a recently killed body, a blood soaked kiss and the delectable taste of fresh muscle and blood a violent and wicked profession of how they adored one another. But for the few times in which he would once again show that he could not be beaten in the art of death.
Their brutal acts of depravity were known, far and wide, though it was rare that the locals would realise just who it was committing them.
It was then they would decide to take place in Nevada, within a small set of streets in Las Vegas; with all of the immoral goings on of Sin City surely they could go about their way without too much of a surprise. What they did not expect was one particularly suspicious boy and his desperate attempts to have them leave his home – one way or another.
It wasn't long before Charley Brewster had caught onto the fact that these two were not normal, albeit easing up slightly toward her once he had seen that she could stand in the sunlight with ease. Still he'd kept a close watch on both; after all, there must be something wrong with a girl who would willingly live with a vampire, what's more one who never showed any sign that she had been turned.
At first she was calm alongside him. Who would believe such crazy stories Charley was spewing? That is until the night Jerry had practically gone mad with rage to have him silenced once and for all, and he'd been impaled with a realtor' sign by the mother.
That was when she'd begun to show the result when she was not able to feed, for the males had either been too wary of her sudden advances, or they had already been taken, and the women were simply uninterested in anyone but the opposite gender. She'd become ugly, or at least, ugly compared to her usual captivating appearance, and her hair and skin withered and unattractive.
That following day she had spent along the Vegas strip, leading those she could to the darkest parts of the city – after he had persuaded her that insignificant Charley couldn't possibly perturb even one hair on his head – until she had finally regained her vigour and her ageless perfection. With the flaws now clear upon her face, however, it had taken much longer than when she was without, and so she did not return to their humble little house – or what remained of the partially destroyed building and shattered windows – until the later hours of night.
When the emptied streets echoed with the mournful wail of the succubus.
