She would go to the club, knowing full well that she's all alone and will probably just spend an awkward time waiting on the side while couples dance around. In her mind, the slight possibility of making an impromptu encounter with mister right, and the even narrower possibility of her not running away scared, outweighs the almost certain pain of standing lonely and sad in midst the happy crowd.

There she sees him. That's why they call him mister right. That's the disguise he uses. To the engaged, to girls with game, to young males, he looks like a creep. But to the lonely girl out tonight, here he stands, handsome gentleman in a top hat, and against all odds, he asks her out for a dance. And against all odds, she accepts. All in all, nobody sees him for what he really is, a calcined vampire, cold as a rock, burned by the warmth of young lonely girls, never warm enough. He cracks them like matches. Once or twice a night maybe, the ashes and smoke the monster is made of are warmed up for a brief moment, before letting go of the husk he has been dancing with, cold again, crawling back into the night.

And people who paid attention to her presence then see her sadder and lifeless, the red eyes of a painful breakup, as if she had been used and beaten by life, even tho she was alone the entire time.

Of all the sorts of demons, the sexual ones are probably the most common and varied. There are so many ways in which this aspect of life attracts dark and weird energies. There is no doubt that at least the majority of these demons have always existed. But certain aspects of life, certain conditions of living cause certain types to proliferate while others die out.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=tCXeYq…