Be my Succubus. I’ll be your Incubus. At the stroke of midnight we’ll bare our sharp, scarlet-tinged fangs. We’ll scamper through the woods and feed on our crimson sustenance.
First you, then me: We’ll expose our alabaster throats like submissive dogs and suck just enough liquid plasma [blood] until we are sated and giddy and intoxicated with a perverse and demonic delight. Then we’ll levitate three feet off the ground, and disappear into the night into the pea-soup fog… We’ll blend into our surroundings and see with phosphorescent and luminescent eyes…
We’ll commune with and command the creatures of the night and vermin to do our bidding. If we feel like it we’ll ride motorcycles forged in the pits of Hell. Or we’ll become bats and our leathery wings will flap into the opaque sky in the dead of night.
We’ll use our echolocation [sonar] system to locate prey to feed on and we’ll recruit some of our victims to become our slaves: to become unrelenting unpaid mercenaries in the growing legions of the undead… As soon as we are able, we’ll take over and conquer the entire earth and then the cosmos, then harvest sweet red salty tasty blood from our minions… (to be cont’d)