Darlingalingus

It was a dark and stormy moment. Well, it was.

"My dear, sweet angel, the taste of Tab kills many things, including taste buds and the first layer of esophageal tissue, but it didn't fool me into drinking your little tummyache potion." The demon waved the glittering mystic diamond, which he clutched rather precariously in one claw-tipped hand, and fountains of evil black lightning shot up from the ground on either side of Marcia. "Now, about our unholy wedding. I'm thinking, let's elope."

Marcia ignored the searing negative energy leaping around her, and the bazooka set at destroy-demons at her feet, to imagine John's rugged, handsome face. She loved him so much, and as the hair on her arms began to singe, she hugged herself and drew strength from that love. She should have told him she loved him before she left him with that novel decorator. For some weird reason, Marcia knew that every other declaration of love she had made to John no longer existed.

Maybe John would still come to rescue her. Now that the tummyache potion had failed, she knew, somehow, that only love could save her.

But where was he?

"Darling, I'm here with you," a beloved, manly voice murmured.

As the demon approached, shallow and meaningless lust contorting his face, Marcia backed up against the niche filled with demon-slaying swords and wrapped herself in the beautiful Teflonish memory of John's love. The demon could do anything to her body -- and probably would -- but he would never, ever touch her soul. Her soul, her heart, the very essence of everything she was as a woman --

"Oh, darling," John whispered. "I'm really here with you."

-- belonged to the man to whom she had given herself, almost twice now, and nothing could touch that. Black lightning couldn't touch it. Clawed, bloodstained hands couldn't harm it. Even the shrapnel-lethal-to-demons-filled grenade in her jacket pocket couldn't destroy it. It was --

"Darling," John's voice said, more insistently. "I mean I'm--"

"Yes, my love," Marcia whispered, her eyes blind to the demon and the lightning and the sparkling but tainted beauty of the diamond, which while the size of a canned ham could not outshine the small but stoic flame of her adoration for the man she would never lose, no matter what horrid sexual things the demon did to her. She rested her hand on the hilt of the knife on her belt, the knife that would only inflict boo-boos on demon flesh. "Yes, my darling. I only wish I'd had a chance to tell you my secret."

"Darling, everyone has secrets, believe me," John's memory said, sounding testy. "Now, when I said I'm here with you I meant I'm here, with you. All you have to do is--"

"I'm not interested in your secrets, honey," the demon said, halting a few feet away from Marcia. His delicious but evil scent enveloped her. "I want more of that necking we did in the back of my limo on the way here."

"The what you did?" John's memory yelped.

"I only pretended to neck with you," Marcia replied calmly, throwing back her shoulders and bumping into the edge of the shimmering, open, underworld portal through which only demons could be pushed. "I thought of my darling John the entire time you were fondling my unmentionable parts and sucking my tongue into your mouth."

"You made out with that thing?" John's memory made a disgusted sound. "Darling, I am SO washing your mouth out with soap the minute we get home."

"Really." The demon folded his muscular but evil arms. "And those multiple orgasms you had, Marcia? What about them?"

"WHAT?" John's memory demanded.

"Don't worry, darling." Marcia waved away the cloud of demon-suffocating smoke being generated by the black lightning. "I faked all twenty-two of those orgasms, of course." To the demon, she said, "I could never find real satisfaction with you, you amoral, disgusting, repulsive, soulless, conniving French-kissing dirtbag."

"I can't believe this," John's memory said, and kicked something hard. "Darling, how could you?"

"I would do anything for you, my darling," Marcia whispered, tears flowing like liquid crystal down her slightly dark-energy-bolt-burned cheeks, and spattering the top of the can of demon-repellent sticking out of her purse.

"You could have fooled me." The demon began carelessly tossing the diamond back and forth between his strong, clawed but evil hands.

"Not you," Marcia said, dropping the rope bespelled to strangle only demons. "John. I'm thinking of my darling John." She spread her arms wide and looked up at the ceiling of the crystal cave, and the crumbling stalactites of razor-sharp demon-poisoning crystal. "Do you hear me, John? You are my salvation!"

"Yeah, but with me, you had, what?" John's memory demanded in a sulky tone. "Two? Maybe three orgasms at the most?"

"You know what your problem is, Marcia? You're so in love with John that you've done nothing but talk and think about him since this scene started. You've ignored about a hundred reasonable ways to kill me." The demon picked up two rocks and began juggling them with the diamond. "I mean, love is great, but like heaven, it can wait."

"I could never love you," Marcia said, groping through all the anti-demon paraphenalia in her purse until she found her lace-edged hankie. "I can't kill you, either, no matter how much you deserve it, because my author won't let me." She bravely dried her tears and stood ready to be sacrificed to the demon's lust. "I have absolutely no reason to make this declaration now, either, but wherever you are, whatever happens to me, know that I love you, my darling John!"

"Noooooooooooooooooo!" the demon shouted, reaching for her throat, and dropping the diamond, which shattered on the cave floor like cheap glass.

Poof.

A cloud of smoke enveloped the demon, who shrieked once more in evil terror and then disappeared. As the smoke cleared, Marcia saw the silhouette of a tall, ruggedly handsome man standing in his place, and her heart went pitter-patter.

"Are you the poor, brave but helpless human whose mind and body the demon took over whenever he was chasing after me in this reality?" Marcia asked shyly. "That I have never actually realized until this moment, which, while convenient, makes me appear as if I have the brain of a carrot?"

"Yeah, I am." John stepped out of the concealing smoke. "I'm also the big plot twist. Surprise."

"Darling." Marcia pressed her trembling hand to her throat. "But how could you be the demon?"

"Ever see me and the demon in the same room? No. And I've been telling you I'm half-demon since Chapter three, remember? Now." He folded his arms. "About those twenty-two allegedly faked orgasms."