"Fuck. It's Mom's slime-bag boyfriend of the week, Steve. Every time he looks at me I feel like I need a shower, like his eyes are cockroaches crawlin... over me. I drop the bottles and head for my room. He's there standing in the hall, like some big, sweaty, drunk bear."Can you move? Or are you too drunk?" I say sweetly. "Pfft. Why am I even asking?" I say, rolling my eyes and trying to inch past him. He puts his hand out clumsily, pushing me into the wall."You little slut. You don't fucking. They wore only kilt-like black cloth around their waists and had proportionately large hands and feet. Their faces were serious and unmoving and they all had different skin tones, some reddish, others more dark green or blue. They didn't seem like ravenous uncontrollable perverts like the threshers.After they were all forced into the cage, all but one of the demons stepped back a few feet and the one standing in front smiled at them all. "Welcome, welcome little ones. I see we've lost one. More

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