Ah, the Darkness, my natural habitat, has returned to the land.
When the light returns, my Incubus will desert me once more to consult with the chattering horde of Imps in a realm not far away. It is ever this way. He leaves ... some times with the daylight, sometimes with the darkness. But always my Incubus returns to me at the turning of the clock, smelling of brimstone and sulfur.
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