Vir - The Stranger (Short Story) (Patreon)

Vir Jara stumbled through the worn-out door of her shabby apartment, her head throbbing with the remnants of the night's battle. The dimly lit room greeted her with a musty embrace, as if the air itself shared in her weariness. She closed the door with a heavy sigh, shutting out the echoes of the supernatural realm that had consumed her evening.

The flickering lightbulb above barely illuminated the cluttered space, revealing the disarray of Vir's dwelling. A few scattered occult books, half-empty takeout containers, and discarded cigarette butts painted a picture of a life steeped in chaos. It was her sanctuary, her kingdom of self-indulgence.

As she shuffled towards the cramped bathroom, Vir's senses tingled with a subtle unease. The sound of running water, distorted and distant, reached her ears, setting off a warning bell deep within her subconscious. She approached the partially open door, heart pounding with anticipation.

A thin veil of steam drifted out, obscuring her view. Shadows danced and writhed, teasing her with glimpses of a figure within. The air grew heavy, charged with the unspoken presence of something not quite right.

She stood frozen, her mind racing with possibilities. The figure beneath the shower's cascade remained obscured, shrouded in a veil of steam. As her thoughts spiraled, Vir's memory flickered, recalling the countless encounters she had faced with demons and supernatural forces.

She remembered the time she battled a ravenous werewolf in the depths of the San Bernardino forest, its growls echoing through the night. The memory of a seductive succubus, her allure almost proving fatal, sent a chill down Vir's spine. And the harrowing confrontation with a vengeful ancient spirit, its malevolence palpable, still haunted her dreams.

Each encounter had taught her a valuable lesson: trust nothing, question everything. The paranormal world was filled with treacherous enemies, lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Vir's heart raced as she considered what kind of adversary she might face when she opened that door.

Would it be a demon, their eyes glowing with infernal fire? Or perhaps a Lamia with sharp claws, long fangs and unrestrained thirst for blood? The mere thought of the unknown sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, sharpening her senses.

With a trembling hand, Vir reached for her necklace, her fingers brushing against the cold surface of a protective talisman. She took a steadying breath, drawing upon her accumulated knowledge and experience. Her mind became a battleground of strategy, analyzing potential weaknesses, searching for the best approach.

Vir’s hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. With a deep breath, she steeled herself for whatever lay beyond, her thoughts momentarily quieted.

As the door swung open, the steam billowed out, revealing a black girl with short, vibrant pink hair, standing naked beneath the showerhead, the water cascading over her smooth, flawless skin and perfect enhanced breasts.

Vir's eyes widened in surprise, quickly narrowing with a mixture of annoyance and disdain.

"Who... who the fuck are you?" Vir grumbled, her voice dripping with frustration.

The stranger shifted uncomfortably, their eyes avoiding Vir's gaze. "Oh! I... I'm Tammy," she replied hesitantly. "Your landlord's niece. He said I could crash here for a while. You’re Vir, right?"

Vir's annoyance deepened as she took in the sight before her. Tammy, a perfect embodiment of everything Vir despised—a model (probably) with her fake tits and flawless facade, a living embodiment of the shallow and self-centered. The thought of sharing her sanctuary with such a creature sent a surge of anger through Vir's veins.

With a gruff tone, Vir snapped back, "Well, ain't I fuckin' lucky. Now I have to share this shithole with a goddamn… What the fuck are you? A hooker?"

“I’m not a hooker.” Tammy replied with an annoyed gesture.

“Ok, enlighten me” Vir said, waving her hand in a dismissive manner.

Tammy's eyes lit up, as if excited to share her story. "Well, let's see… I’m a LonelyFans model, an escort, a dancer, an event hostess… But I've also been a trapeze artist, a rodeo clown, a professional whistler, and a synchronized swimming coach. Oh, and I also spent a week working as a lion tamer."

“So you’re a hooker with hobbies… Great.”

Tammy's face fell, their initial enthusiasm dampened by Vir's caustic words. "I... I'll try not to be a bother. Just need a place to crash."

Vir crossed her arms, a stubborn fire in her eyes. "I ain't got much of a choice, do I?"

As the steam began to dissipate, revealing their cramped apartment in all its worn-out glory, Vir couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and resignation. The reality of the situation settled in, and Vir grudgingly acknowledged that she had no choice but to accept this unwanted intrusion, even if it grated against every fiber of her being.

Reluctantly, Vir muttered, "Fine. Stay here. But don't expect us to become fucking best friends or anything."

“Yay! Just wait till you know me better! We’re totally gonna be best friends!” Tammy yelled, showing off a big perfect smile.

Vir turned her back on Tammy’s wet naked body and reached for her pocket.

“Fuck, I need a cigarette.”