The Demon Who Feeds on Love
The being that had been inside the television mere moments ago — a being that was supposed to be dead — was standing right in front of me, and I had no choice but to doubt my own eyes.
I squeezed them shut and opened them again, half-convinced I was hallucinating, but nothing changed.
Ash-brown hair styled in a soft, loose perm. The side-swept bangs that left her forehead gracefully bare flowed down past her collarbone, spilling over the swell of her chest where the pale-pink open-shouldered stage dress could no longer contain them.
Her naturally fair skin and sharply defined features, set off by understated makeup, radiated a maturity that bordered on overwhelming. And yet, in the gentle kindness of her face — in that soft, unhurried smile she wore like she had all the time in the world — you could still see the girl beneath: barely twenty-one, and not a day older.
True to her profession, her cinched waist and perfectly proportioned hips were laid bare by the dress clinging to her like a second skin, flaunting every line without shame. The skirt bared the full length of her white thighs, and though I knew she wore safety shorts beneath it for the stage, the way the hem teased at what lay under it set a man's heart racing all the same.
Swish.
"Oppa, are you okay?"
When Sylvie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in to study my face, the long hair falling to her waist slid over her shoulder like a curtain of silk.
The scent that only young women carry — the ripening warmth of it mingled with the sweetness of peach — drifted into my nose, and I nearly lost my grip on myself all over again. The part of me that had been so crudely stimulated moments ago stirred to life, but even so, I wasn't so ruled by desire that I could set aside the impossible reality standing before me.
"Wh-what's going on? Why is Sylvie suddenly…?"
When I pointed at her, the girl — no, the demon — gave a small smile and answered in Sylvie's voice.
"You wanted this woman, so I took her shape. Not just her appearance, either. Her memories, her voice, her personality — I absorbed it all. I absorbed her entire existence."
"Absorbed?"
Seeing the incomprehension on my face, the demon curled the corners of her mouth up as if amused, and tilted her head slightly. Watching her, I realized she enjoyed explaining her mysteries to me.
"The idol you were watching on stage a moment ago — I devoured her with my power. I consumed the existence of the idol called Sylvie from this world. Because of that, the idol known by the stage name Sylvie — her real name is…"
The demon rolled her eyes upward, riffling through stolen memories the way she had with Jia, and then spoke.
"Lee Naeun. Yes — by consuming the existence of a human named Lee Naeun from this world, I claimed her place in it."
I still couldn't fully grasp the concept, but I forced my brain to work and strained to follow the conversation.
"So… you became Sylvie? But… Sylvie just vanished from the TV a second ago! Everyone was acting like… like she'd been erased from the world entirely!"
"I only erased the human I'd devoured, to keep things from getting complicated. If you want, I can bring her back."
"Bring her back…?"
"Mm. If that's what you want, I'll do it."
Kill a person, then bring her back to life?
That's… that's something only a god could do, isn't it?
That's actually possible?
And not just that — erasing a devoured human's existence from the world itself?
Then that meant… wait.
"If you erased her existence… does that mean no one in this world can remember Sylvie anymore?"
"Yes."
The demon grinned from ear to ear, watching my expression with unblinking fascination, as if nothing in the world could be more entertaining.
"Then how come I still remember her?"
"Because I permit it."
"So if you permit it, other people could remember her too?"
"Exactly. You really are clever. Impressive. Ahh… how can any being be this perfect?"
The demon smiled down at me with a warmth that melted the air between us, her eyes crinkling into a soft crescent of laughter. That gaze — drowning in ardent love — made my skin prickle, but I realized this was no time to be worrying about that, and spoke in a rush.
"Then bring her back. No — you have to bring her back!"
A human being had died because of me.
And it hadn't stopped at death. The idol called Sylvie — the twenty-one-year-old woman named Lee Naeun — had been wiped out of existence itself. If the demon was telling the truth, then even her own parents had surely forgotten she had ever been born.
Good God…
It wasn't something I had done with my own hands, but the moment I understood that it had happened because of me, an indescribable dread and terror came flooding in, far too late.
"If that's what you want, I'll do it… There. She's alive."
"What? Really?"
She'd paused for barely a breath before saying it, and I couldn't keep the suspicion out of my voice.
She kills a person and revives her, just like that?
Just like that… she can resurrect a being erased from the entire world…?
"You're the one who told me to. If it's what you desire, there is nothing I won't do for you. Even if you ordered me to destroy this world, I would grant that wish gladly."
The demon looked me dead in the eye, her gaze perfectly steady. It didn't feel like a lie — but every single thing that had happened defied belief, so I hurriedly switched the television back on.
By luck, the music program from moments ago had reached its end, and the awards ceremony was underway. Every singer and idol from the broadcast had gathered on stage — and Sylvie was among them.
"Ha… thank God…?"
Relief washed over me — and then I caught sight of the contradiction that still stood unresolved before my eyes.
If Sylvie had truly been brought back to life, why could the demon go on wearing Sylvie's form?
"I copied her existence and made her anew."
As if she'd read the question right out of my mind, the demon smirked. And seeing that smile, I felt a chill run down my spine at this creature so brimming with goodwill toward me.
"A c-copy?"
"That's right. The one over there is the idol Sylvie, exactly as I am now. Her memories, her voice, her personality, her body — all of it. But if you ever wish it, I can make her vanish from this world again, any time. Her very existence is subordinate to me."
When my face must have gone blank with incomprehension, Sylvie raised her index finger toward the Sylvie on the screen.
And in response, the Sylvie standing at the back of the crowd abruptly thrust her right hand high into the air. Naturally, the people around her turned to stare at her strangely, but Sylvie herself showed no trace of anything being wrong — she simply stood there, hand raised, dumb and unmoving.
The moment the host leaned toward the microphone, the demon lowered her raised finger — and the Sylvie on screen lowered her hand as one.
Having understood what the demon had just demonstrated, I went numb all over again.
"I can control her whenever I like. I can rewrite her memories, rewrite her personality. She's a existence I created, so nothing is beyond me. In a word, she's a living doll. Don't worry — as long as I don't erase her, that Sylvie will go on living her original life without ever knowing her existence was devoured. The people around her won't suspect a thing. And why would they? Who would ever doubt a being whose body and personality are all exactly the same?"
"…That's… that's not really being alive, is it…? You can't call that a whole human being called Sylvie…"
As I murmured the words with a hollow voice, the figure of Sylvie before me darkened — and in the space of a breath, she shifted back into my little sister, Yoon Jia.
"Then what about me, Oppa?"
The demon asked in Jia's voice.
"Am I not Yoon Jia?"
With that sorrowful question from Jia's face, everything circled right back to where it had begun.
She was identical. Down to the last detail.
What if I denied the existence of Yoon Jia?
What if I denied the demon?
What if I wished for the demon to vanish before my eyes? Then my mother would despair at the loss of her daughter and take her own life — and I would carry the weight of that guilt for the rest of my days.
The guilt of a family that had all died because of me.
And if I denied Yoon Jia — denied my little sister — then, paradoxically, it would amount to denying the existence of Sylvie as well.
"Dohyun, Oppa — more importantly…"
While I sat staring blankly into that dark abyss of thought, the demon — returned once more to Sylvie's form — had drawn close without my noticing.
Before I could react, she took my hand in hers and pressed it against the plush fullness of her own breast.
"Ah…"
The soft, supple warmth yielded in my palm. The sensation of a woman's breast — something I had never once touched in my life — made my head swim.
And at the same time, I couldn't believe it. The fact that I was touching the breast of the famous idol Sylvie, right now, this instant. Men must have bent every effort imaginable just for the chance to hold her hand. Dashing, accomplished men I could never hope to measure up to must have hungered for her body in secret. And now I remembered how countless men had watched her dance on that stage with eyes that were anything but pure — and a deep, conquering fullness surged up from somewhere in my chest.
Everyone coveted her and none dared touch her — the untouchable idol at the very summit, a girl pristine and undefiled — and in this moment she was mine to caress freely with my own hand. Joy swelled inside me at the thought.
"How is it, Oppa? A woman's chest. So soft, isn't it? So warm?"
"Uh…"
"Haah…"
Sylvie brought her lips close to my ear, her hot breath spilling over it as she whispered one obscene word after another.
"Keep touching me. Ah… when you touch my chest like that, I get so worked up… it's aching down there again. I'm getting so wet inside, it's dripping down and soaking through my panties… haah… I love this feeling… I love your hands… I can't hold it in anymore… my heart's pounding so fast… you look more and more lovely to me… so this is what wanting someone you love does to the body…"
My consciousness was drifting into a haze. Pleasure — that flood of dopamine — was blurring the demon's true nature at the edges, and all the tangled thoughts that had cluttered my mind seemed to scatter and lift away somewhere far off.
The demon beamed at me, drunk on happiness there in her own arms, as if I were the most precious thing in creation, and drew me gently into an embrace.
"I love this — this thing called an embrace. I love the feeling of your body held against mine. I love that I can feel your heartbeat closer than anything else in the world."
As if she would never let me go, the demon wrapped both hands around my neck and murmured into my ear, each word placed down slowly, one by one.
"My very own existence — the one who makes me happy."
It yearned for me.
"Let me be wanted by you. Let me be loved by you."
The demon's words rang out.
"I will never betray you. I will love you and you alone. Whatever you desire, I will grant it. However ugly, however filthy the thing you crave, I will affirm it without reservation. From the place closest to you, I will hold you up and urge you on — whatever you do, whatever you become, I will accept it and call it good. Even if the whole world condemns you and turns its back on you, I, of all beings, will remain at your side and protect you. As the shadow at your side, I will always watch over you. So long as I exist, no one will ever hurt you. Neither body nor soul."
The words echoed in my ear.
"I am the Demon of Existence."
She — the demon —
"A demon who feeds and grows upon your love."
wanted me.
"You."
It wanted my very existence.
"Are mine. Mine alone, forever. You will never, ever escape me… not for all eternity."
The demon was reaching out to claim me — the one being in all the world who would affirm her existence and love her for what she was.