Incubus

[muckefuck]

I was lying in bed, fully clothed, and there was a man lying beside me. He was rather short and small, but with something vaguely threatening about his quiet, polite manner. I was reminded of Mayor Daley or a mobster (assuming, for a moment, that those are different things).

He was holding out a cell phone to me with a number displayed. Something told me I shouldn't dial it, so I fumbled the phone and, in picking it up from the floor, erased the number. He was still encouraging me to dial it, so I meant to pretend to while dialing my brother instead. But I took too long to recall his number and the man took the phone away from me. I was lying on my back with him looming over me when he handed it back.

I closed my eyes and let him lead my clumsy hand to the "Send" button. When I pushed it, he was holding both my wrists and I felt about to cry. "Kiss me," I said, and he did, simultaneously grinding his crotch into mine. A warm tingly feeling spread throughout my lower body. We remained like that for a few moments and then I brought the phone to my ear. Someone had answered without saying a word. Someone who had been expecting me.
"I'm here."
"Welcome baaaaaaaack..."
The ghostly voice trailed off as I opened my eyes and saw the man sitting on my feet. My trouser legs were gone and he was slitting my calves with two oddly-shaped blades: Each about a foot long with a blade about an inch wide that ended in a blunt curve. Blood--my blood--was smeared on them. He indicated a post-it note stuck to the wall. It said:

Call demon
to serve you
wealth/fame
[phone number]
[alternative number]

If I don't give him something to do, I thought, it will be trouble. So I'll tell him to bring me things, even though I don't want them.

Was his voice the same as the one on the phone?