Shades of Moonlight

Author: Despina
Story title: Shades of Moonlight
Series/Original: Original
Word count: 4,547
Sexual content rating: NC 17 (sex and some disturbing images, this chapter is tame.)

Notes: This story is still in motion, but I'm pretty sure what I want (it was *done* at one point.) Again, many thanks to imayb1 and jadeheart for their beta powers. I did touch it last, so any mistakes belong to me.


Shades of Moonlight


Part 2

Monique gulped her wine and then glared at Dante. "I don't know how you can live in a world completely filled with denial."

Dante knew his eyes flashed with anger and he set his own glass of wine on the side table next to the couch. He had not come to Monique's house to hear the same tired story of Mick's monster, and yet, somehow they were back to arguing the subject. "What do you want me to do about it? Storm the castle and rescue the damsel in distress? From what you've told me, it sounds like Mick has a boyfriend." He cringed internally when he said the words. He didn't want to think about Mick with someone else. He stared at Monique and the next words he spoke came out with a snarl. "This is real life, not a story book with trolls snatching helpless maidens."

Placing her left hand on her hip, Monique audibly counted to ten before saying, "Have you heard a single word I've said? He doesn't have a boyfriend, Dante, it's something else, it's a…"

"A monster, Mick's poltergeist come to life." He rolled his eyes as he dully repeated her words. "Yes, I did hear you, but come on, Monique, a demon?"

"You don't understand, Dante. He's exhausted all the time and he looks awful. He looks like he's dying, like he's being… drained."

Dante kept his voice even, refusing to fall victim to her hysteria. "When you work hard and put yourself under pressure the way he does about his writing, exhaustion is bound to take a toll."

"It's more than that!" Monique exclaimed, her free hand dropping to her side and curling into fists. "I'm really afraid for him. If this situation continues, there'll be nothing left of him. What’s happening to him is bizarre, and somehow I know it’s all tied up with his writing and this thing, Raoul."

He studied her, Monique's eyes were sincere, clearly, she really was afraid for Mick. She was a strong woman and not easily frightened or duped. "Okay, okay. Just for argument’s sake, let's say I agree something is wrong with Mick. But a monster? You can't believe I'd take you seriously."

"Yes, I do expect you to take me seriously!" She hissed, her brown eyes blazing. "Have you bothered to see Mickey in the past two months? He's wasting away yet he's lit from within like he's feverish."

"No, I haven't seen him." Dante's tone was much harsher than he meant it to be, but he didn't care. He didn't really want to speak about Mick anymore. They hadn't seen each other since the horrible night at the bar, the night Dante had said those cruel words and ruined all hope of catching Mick. He was always saying inappropriate things to Mick, usually voicing the exact opposite of what he was feeling.

Monique exhaled and this time when she spoke, her voice was much softer. "I'm sorry. I do know how you feel about him and I know it’s hard for you to talk about him."

Dante waved his hand dismissively. "No need for you to be sorry. I'm the one who chased him off, I did it to myself."

"Well, you certainly didn't help with your constant teasing. He was always crazy about you and I can't imagine how your words made him feel."

Rubbing his hand through his short, dark hair, Dante felt nauseous. "I don't know why I do that to him, Monique."

She placed her empty glass down on the coffee table and sat down next to him on the couch. "I'll tell you why; it's because you're afraid of letting him get close to you. You're sociable and charming with everyone else because you don't care about them. Mick, however, is different for you, isn't he?"

He sighed. "Yes."

She smoothed out her black skirt and turned towards him. "Dante, I am sorry for not considering your feelings, but this really isn't about you."

He considered her words along with his selfishness for a moment. Maybe he needed to concentrate on what Monique was saying. After all, simply because he'd driven Mick away didn't mean Dante didn't care. "Okay, I'll listen to your theories. Just remember, I can't promise you I won't be skeptical."

"Well, you wouldn't be Dante if you weren't skeptical." She patted his arm reassuringly. "Believe me, I know how it sounds. He tried to tell me, you know. Right after he moved in to that place, just before his writing… changed and the publishers started knocking on his door. Mick told me that Raoul was real, but I didn’t take him at his word, I just couldn't…"

"Believe it?" Dante finished for her.

She nodded solemnly and looked down.

"Why would you believe it?" He asked. "Didn't he also say he was making a joke about his poltergeist?" Dante refused to consider 'Raoul' a monster or demon.

Monique crossed her arms. "Yes, he did say he was making a joke. I think he was afraid I'd have him committed. I'm such a fool."

Dante moved closer and took her hand. "I think maybe Mick is ill, Monique, and you can’t blame yourself for that."

"Mick's not ill," a new voice said.

Monique whirled on the couch and faced the voice, she nearly shouted when she said, "Jesus, Alex! You scared the hell out of me. I didn't hear you come in."

Looking over at the entrance to the living room, Dante could see Monique's roommate, Alex, leaning against the doorway arch and holding a glass of beer, his jacket draped over one arm.

Alex shook his head for emphasize, saying again, "Mick's not ill. At least, not the way a doctor could diagnosis it."

Monique stared at him. "Alex? What do you know about it?"

He moved inside the room and sat down in a nearby chair, draping his jacket over the arm. "You've been so anxious about Mick, I couldn't stand it anymore.”

“What did you do?” She asked.

Alex took a long drink from his glass and then licked his upper lip before he explained. “Last night, after closing at the restaurant, I decided I would go by and check on him. It wasn't too late, around 10:30, and we all know Mick tends to keep some strange hours."

"Yes, he does, and his hours are probably even more bizarre since he lost his job." Monique agreed.

Dante frowned at her words. "He lost his job?"

"A couple of weeks ago. He just quit going." Monique squeezed Dante's hand and turned her gaze on Alex. "What happened, Alex?"

"Yes," Dante added. "From the beginning."

Alex exhaled. "As I told you, I got there about 10:30. I pressed the buzzer to his room but I didn't receive an answer, I tried numerous times. I had given up and was ready to leave when one of the other tenants showed up and let me inside."

"Now that's high security." Dante rolled his eyes with his sarcasm.

"I went to his room, up those two flights of stairs and I knocked, but he wouldn't answer." Alex swallowed. "This is when the story gets a little strange. He wouldn't answer the door but I knew he was there, I could hear him speaking to someone."

Dante's eyes searched Alex's pale face. "Male?"

"I think probably but…" Alex paused, looking from Monique to Dante and back again. "You're going to think I'm crazy but I don't think it was human. All I could hear was a sort of growling and I didn't recognize any words; I think it was another language."

"Oh, for the love of…" Dante began but Alex interrupted him.

"I know what you are thinking, Dante!" Alex glared at Dante, his blue eyes were determined and his voice softened. "Believe me I do know what you are thinking, but that isn't even the freaky part."

Monique kept her features neutral when she said, "Go on, Alex."

"When I left the building, there were two people in the foyer discussing an incident from the night before." Alex took a large drink of his beer. "They said they saw something crawling out of Mick's window."

"Something?" Dante asked.

"Someone, maybe." Alex ran a hand though his hair. "I couldn't make complete sense out of what they were saying."

"That because it's nonsense, you misunderstood what they were saying." Dante stated and then looked from Alex to Monique. Alex took another drink from his glass but wouldn't return Dante's stare. Monique chewed on her lip for a moment, a determined gleam in her eyes.

"Monique?" Alex asked, and then emptied his glass.

"Yes." She answered and then stood.

"What are you doing?" Dante asked, but he already knew the answer. "You can't be serious?"

She moved across the room and retrieved her jacket from a closet. "Mickey's in trouble, Dante, whether you wish to believe it or not. I intend to do whatever I can for him."

"Me, too. I need to see this for myself." Alex stood up set down his glass on the table and slipped on his own jacket.

Dante drained his wine glass. "Well… fuck." He stood and followed them out the door to Monique's car.


"I'm freezing," Monique said, hanging on to Dante's arm while she shivered.

"What did you expect? We've been standing out here for almost an hour." Dante pulled his own jacket closer. "Lurking around in the middle of the night like some transients. This is lunacy. We'll be lucky if someone doesn't call the cops on us."

Alex stepped closer to Dante and whispered. "Let’s give it a little longer."

"There's nothing to see." Dante was tired, cold and impatient. "Mick’s window is three floors up and lights aren't even on in his apartment. He's either out or asleep. This is ridiculous, I'm going home."

"Wait!" Alex hissed, catching Dante's arm and halting his progress before he left the cover of trees. "Look."

The crescent moon provided some light, enough to discern hues of white and black. Dante squinted up at the attic apartment and saw the round window open out.

"Dante," Monique whispered. Her shivering increased. "What is that?"

Alex shushed her and Dante was grateful; he couldn't have answered Monique's question if he had wanted to. Dante thought it was a man, but in the partial moonlight, he wasn't sure. The thing moved with a speed that wasn't possible, scrabbling across the eaves and right above the window. It paused, standing at the apex of the roof, a foot on either side and raised its arms to the sky. Dante blinked, trying to clear his vision. The thing's skin looked like it was grayish-blue and it wasn't wearing clothes. Even in the faint light and three floors below, Dante knew it was male.

"What the fuck is that?" Alex barely whispered.

"It's Raoul," Monique answered, her fingertips bit painfully into Dante's arm.

There was no possible way the thing on the roof could hear them and yet, it dropped its arms and turned towards them. There was a silver glimmer of reflected moonlight and Dante was certain it originated from whatever stood on top of Mick’s building. The man-thing crouched and moved to the very edge of the roof, its eyes focused directly at them. It looked ready to spring.

"Oh, shit." Alex's voice quivered and he grabbed both Dante and Monique's arms. "It's coming for us. Come on."

"Don't be absurd, it’s on the roof. What’s it going to do, jump?" Dante asked with more bravado than he felt. He watched the thing watching them and he thought maybe it smiled, but he couldn't be sure.

Lights came on in Mick's apartment and they could see movement in the room. Dante's eyes shifted to the lit window for only a moment, and when he glanced back, the roof was bare.

Monique's voice shook with fear when she said. "Wh… where did it go?"

"I don't know," Dante answered. "Alex?"

"I only looked away for a second and he was gone." Alex turned a quick circle, his head moving around trying to see every direction at once. "You don't think he's out here, do you?"

"How would I know?" Dante asked and then moved towards the house.

"Dante!" Alex called from the copse of trees. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to see Mick." Dante strode across the grass headed for the security door. What he had seen disturbed him, but he refused to believe he’d witnessed anything supernatural. He felt sure there was a logical explanation.

Monique and Alex caught up with him when he reached the buzzer. At the lit entryway, he paused for a minute to take in his companion's appearances. Monique was pale and visibly shaking. Alex's eyes were wide and he constantly glanced over his shoulder, expecting an attack. Dante looked at each of them and then pressed the buzzer.

The speaker crackled and Mick's distorted voice asked, "Who is it?"

Dante exhaled a breath he didn't even know he was holding and tried to sound normal. "Hey, Mick."

"Dante?" Distorted or not, the surprise in Mick's voice was evident.

"Yes." Dante added, "I'm with Alex and Monique."

Monique shook off her paralysis. "We've come to visit. Can we come up?"

"Oh." There was a long pause. "Okay."

The door buzzed and the three made their way up the stairs. Mick met them at the door wearing a bathrobe. He looked feverish but he smiled when he saw them. "Hi, guys. What are you doing here? It's late."

"We've been worried about you," Monique said. "Dante wanted to see you."

"I did n… " Dante began to protest but changed his mind. "I did. Want to see you, I mean."

Mick’s eyes narrowed and he gazed at Dante. "Really?"

"Yes. Aren't you going to let us in?"

"Um, yeah." Mick stepped away from the door, leaving it open as an invitation.

Monique and Alex exchanged nervous looks. Dante followed Mick inside and down the hall, careful not to hit his head on the sloping attic ceiling. The first thing he noticed was an unpleasant smell in the apartment, a combination scent of sex mixed with rotting leaves. He wrinkled his nose. The second thing he noticed was how unsteady Mick was on his feet, running his fingers down the wall as if he were gaining perspective, a point to hold him on course.

Stepping into the studio room, Dante was surprised to find the room a disaster. Mick was normally tidy, but loose papers, clothing and dirty cups lay everywhere. The futon looked like it had endured battle, torn sheets, what looked like blood and other stains. Dante scowled and looked away.

As if reading Dante's Mind, Mick said, "Sorry for the mess. I've been writing a lot and I haven't had time to do anything else." His eyes shifted to his computer and his voice became dreamy. "That's really what I should be doing right now."

"Geez, Mickey, are you sure you are okay?" Monique asked. "You look bad. You're really skinny."

"I'm fine." Mick looked at them dully. He rubbed his fingers over the ring on his left thumb. "All I have is tea."

"I could use a cup," Alex said.

Monique smiled at Mick. "I'll help."

Mick and Monique moved into the small kitchen.

Dante watched Alex step to the computer and rifle through the stacks of discs. Alex turned to Dante in wonder and pointed to the CD's. He kept his voice very low when he said, "These are all labeled, Dante. He must be writing at breakneck speed."

"Yeah." Dante moved to the window, studying it. "I had an artist friend once who became manic one day. It was the strangest thing. One day he was normal and the next day it was as if someone had flipped a switch. He quit sleeping and started painting, day and night. Right before we put him in the hospital, he told me he was an angel sent from heaven to do God's work." Dante ran a fingertip over one of many deep scratches in the woodwork of the window seat. The fresh gouges looked like claw marks.

Alex stepped close to him and spoke softly. "You can't seriously think that's what is happening to Mick."

"Why not?" Dante gazed out the window but all he could see was the room's reflection. He leaned closer, trying to see beyond the mirror image to the lawn and copse of trees. "It's much easier to believe in manic-depression than Raoul."

A face suddenly appeared on the other side of the window, one with silver eyes and very sharp teeth. Dante froze, his mind frantically trying to make sense of what he saw, and then a large hand with clawed fingers thumped against the glass pane. Startled by a hand moving towards his face, Dante jumped back, colliding with Alex and knocking both of them to the floor with an audible crash.

While they untangled, Alex asked, "Did you see that? What was that?"

Before Dante could answer, Monique hovered over them, a scowl on her face. "What are you two doing?"

"Nothing," Dante answered, attempting to compose himself while he stood. He was irritated to note that his knees were shaking. "Alex just startled me and we got hung up."

"I startled you?" Alex accused him while he dusted off his pants.

Mick seemed completely uninterested in the ruckus, his eyes stayed focused on his computer. He handed a cup of tea to Dante. "Here."

The four of them stood while they drank their tea. Monique and Alex made small talk with occasional comments from Dante. Mick stayed mute, staring at his computer or at the ring on his thumb, completely unresponsive unless asked a direct question. The long stretches of uncomfortable silence were painful and all four of them were jumpy. Dante kept his eyes glued to the window but did not see the silver eyes return.

Once they finished their tea, Alex made excuses and the three left. Mick did not seem to care; in fact, he seemed pleased they were leaving. He explained he had a lot to write.

No one spoke on the car ride back to Monique and Alex's place. Dante sat down on the couch and Alex sat in the chair. Monique brought them each a beer to drink. They all seemed lost in their thoughts, dazed by a sense of surrealism.

A few minutes passed before Alex finally asked Monique, "Did you ask Mick about what we saw on the roof?"

"Yes." She shivered.

Alex and Dante waited expectantly.

"Mick's reaction was weird. He didn't deny it; he acted like it was completely normal that some creature was crawling on his roof." Monique took a long drink of her beer and then visibly shivered. "In fact, he said we'd seen Raoul."

"That's…" Dante didn't know what do say. He knew what he'd seen, but the night still didn't make any sense to him. "That's not possible."

Alex ran a hand through his hair and set his already empty beer glass down. "I think we need help. What we saw tonight was... otherworldly. We are out of our element."

"What do you suggest?" Monique asked and reached for Dante's hand.

"I have a friend who makes a hobby of researching the occult. Demons," he cleared his throat, "in particular."

"Demons?" Dante asked.

"Yes."

The room was silent for several moments before Dante said, "Why does it have to be a demon? Why can't it just be some freak that likes to climb on roofs?"

Alex stared at him and then exhaled in frustration. "A naked freak with blue skin? In forty degree weather? He was climbing on the roof, Dante!"

Dante chewed on his lip. He didn't know how to explain the face outside the window with those silver eyes, either. On the third floor. Dante felt his skeptic resolve begin to crumble.

"Can you call her now?" Monique tapped her hand on her leg.

"It's late," Alex looked at the clock on the wall behind him then back at Monique's worried features, "but I'll call."



Alex's friend Cecilia agreed to meet with them the next evening. She swept into Monique and Alex's living room with a rattle of jewelry and a swish from her paisley, purple and blue gauze skirt. She wore a multitude of scarves and reeked of patchouli oil. Dante took an immediate dislike to her.

After the introductions, Alex and Monique settled in and immediately began hammering her with information and questions. They excitedly threw out outlandish possibilities of what they’d seen and what Raoul might be. Dante kept quiet.

"I've been reading some books on demons," Monique said with barely contained excitement.

Cecilia scowled. "You must be careful with what you read. Some information is woefully incomplete. If you are truly dealing with a demon, bad information could get you killed."

Dante resisted rolling his eyes.

Not deterred in the slightest, Monique continued, "I think it's an incubus. I've been doing some research on the web and there are tons of stories from all over the world throughout history. In Zanzibar and Tanzania, for example, over the last several years, there have been multiple reports of shape-shifting creatures raping men in their beds."

Cecilia raised an eyebrow and settled into the remaining empty chair in the room. Removing a notebook and a pencil from the enormous bag she brought, she said, "Perhaps we should start at the beginning."

They explained it all, sometimes Monique and Alex attempting to speak at the same time. Cecilia would halt them and sort out the confusion, one speaker at a time. Dante had to hand it to her, she might be a hippie, but she was good at controlling the hysteria.

"Do you know if we can do anything to save Mick?" Monique asked after their story was complete and the Cecilia’s questions had ceased.

Cecilia’s gazed at her notebook. "I can talk to some people I know. Religious History professors at a Catholic College, people that know non-public information the church prefers to keep under wraps. I also have some friends that are serious demonologists.”

“Serious?” Dante said his skepticism evident.

She closed her book and tucked her curly long hair behind one ear with a jangle of jewelry. Studying him for a long time, she finally asked, “Why are you here?”

Dante opened his mouth for a scathing retort but saw Monique and Alex glaring at him. He closed his mouth and reconsidered his words. “I don’t know. I’m not certain I believe any of this, but something is happening to our friend. Something I don’t understand.”

Cecilia nodded. “You are honest, that’s good. What do you think you saw on the roof last night?”

“I don’t know.” Dante shifted on the couch, feeling uncomfortable under her brown-eyed scrutiny. “It was unusual, I’ll agree with that, but I can’t accept the demon theory.” His gaze faltered and he looked away. He tried not to think about the silver eyes staring at him through a third floor window and the deep claw marks on Mick’s window seat. What was that thing? Dante had been struggling to make sense of what he had seen.

“Dante?” Monique asked the unspoken question.

He looked back to Cecilia and inhaled. “Mick is in trouble. I want to help; I guess it’s as simple as that.”

Her clear eyes delved into him and she tipped her head to one side. “It’s possible there will be requirements that you will not enjoy.”

“Such as?” Dante asked.

“Such as caution, diligence and belief.”

Dante frowned but did not speak.

Cecilia continued to stare at him. “If it is an incubus we will fight, you will be at greater risk than the other two.”

“Why would I be more at risk?”

She smiled. "Incubi are terribly jealous and territorial creatures.”

Monique interrupted her, “What can we do?”

Cecilia blinked in surprise and turned to Monique. She pursed her lips, perhaps considering her next words. “Have any of you noticed anything else unusual about your friend? Even simple things?”

“You mean, besides a naked animal standing on his roof, writing ability he never had before or that weird smell?” Alex asked, his voice thick with sarcasm, rivaling Dante’s sharp tongue. “What else unusual are you looking for?”

"The ring," Monique said.

"What ring?" Dante asked.

"He started wearing a ring on his thumb just before he began to wither. It tore my skin when I touched it, as a thorn would.”

"Ah, a ring on his thumb might suffice for a contract." Cecilia nodded, making notes in her book.

"Contract?" Dante asked. "What do you mean?"

“With artistic people, sometimes they, more than the rest of us, can telegraph longing across dimensions. You indicated Mick’s intense desire to be a great author. There is a possibility that Raoul truly is Mick's newly acquired muse."

Monique inhaled. “Are you saying Mick has sold his soul?”

“I suppose you could say what has happened to your friend equates to that, yes.” Cecilia answered with quiet seriousness.

Dante chewed on his lip. Mick's latest written works were… amazing. The stories were completely different from anything he had created before, and they would surely make him famous. Had Mick actually sold his soul? Or maybe he'd sold his life force. No, those thoughts were simply absurd, weren't they?

“I’ll try to get my friends to watch the apartment house tonight. If it is a demon, we will need to move fast.”

“I’ll go with you.” Dante nodded and stood. “I think I need to see it again.”

Alex also stood. "I'll come with you. You, in particular need to be careful, Dante, if that thing figures out how you feel, you could be in grave danger."

"Because the incubus would kill me?" Dante nearly scoffed with the absurdity of his words, but he couldn't deny that two of his closest friends believed the extraordinary tale. Dante himself had doubts, but if his participation could help Mick in anyway, he would do whatever idiocy was required.

“Do not take this creature lightly.” Cecilia sounded like a scolding schoolteacher. “Incubi are very clever, able to change shape at will, pretending to be someone else. Raoul would kill you to keep you from Mick, maybe even pose as Mick."

"Dante, I don't think you should go…" Monique began but he waved her off.

"If this creature is what you think, can you get your “occult” people to demon proof my house?" Dante couldn't imagine he would have ever said anything so ridiculous in his life.

"Your house?" Alex blinked at him.

"Yes, my house." He looked at the two of them. "I have more room. I'm also closer to a hospital if needed."

Cecilia nodded and gathered up her bag. “I’ll check with them tonight, but they will be your best hope.”

Monique dabbed at her eyes and smiled. "I think those words might make you a knight."

"What are you talking about?" He asked with impatience.

"Looks like you'll be rescuing the princess after all."

He rolled his eyes. "Shut up, already."


TBC