Succubus Lord 8

by Eric Vall

  The dark haired woman summoned her two massive, bat-like wings, and then she took to the air. Ira fluttered down in front of the box and slowly bent down before she came back up with it in her hands.

  We all watched with bated breath as the succubus turned the red package over in her hands and then held it up to her ear and shook.

  I was prepared to summon up a wall of purple flames if the fucking thing blew up, but the opportunity never came.

  Instead, Ira placed the box back on the ground, untied the ribbon, and removed the lid. She rubbed her chin curiously as she inspected the package’s contents, and then she threw back her head and laughed.

  “I guess it’s not a bomb, then,” I observed.

  Ira swept the package up in her arms and then flew back up onto the top of the wall. She was still laughing profusely as she landed and held out the crimson box for me to take.

  “So, it’s nothing bad?” I asked rhetorically.

  “Oh, it’s something very, very bad,” Ira cackled. “But it’s not dangerous, no.”

  I cautiously reached into the box and felt around until my hand brushed up against a large piece of cardstock. Then I removed the massive piece of paper and tossed the box to the side.

  “What is it, Jacob?” Libidine immediately questioned.

  “A letter?” Sia guessed.

  “Kindaaaa,” Ira snickered.

  I nearly swallowed my tongue when I realized what I was looking at.

  It was a letter, alright. But every now and again, one of the words was replaced with a package of candy.

  To Jacob Ralston, the King of the Fourth Circle,

  I hope this doesn’t cause too much of a time “crunch,” but I received your message and wish to host you and your nobles, or the “three musketeers” of your team. I am very interested in the “mounds” of topics we could talk about, and it would be worth “100 grand” if you were to accept my offer and “rolo” over here.

  Sincerely, Asmodeus, the King of the First Circle and the biggest “sweet tart” in Hell.

  P.S. I hope my message made you “snicker.”

  “Is this … a fucking candygram?” I muttered in shock. “Like, an honest to God candygram?”

  Todd let out a shrill yell as he fell to the ground and curled up into a ball. “Hit the deck, bro!” he warned. “Haven’t you seen Blazing Saddles? Those fucking things explode!”

  “That’s just a movie, Todd,” I said as I rolled my eyes and placed the piece of cardstock back in the box. “I can’t fucking believe Asmodeus, one of the great Demon Kings, communicates through candygrams. What kind of a demon is he, anyway?”

  “A very flamboyant one,” Sia explained. “Now that I think about it, we should have expected this.”

  “Sia,” I chuckled, “I don’t think if I lived a thousand years and could simultaneously view every possible future that exists, I would expect that. This is the guy we just asked to hitch our cart onto?”

  “Don’t let appearances fool you, Jacob,” Cupi warned. “Libidine is the Sister of Lust, and she’s one of our most formidable fighters.”

  “I guess so … ” I trailed off.

  We were facing down Beelzebub, one of the most manipulative and ruthless of the Demon Kings, and possibly Lucifer himself.

  And my only ally just agreed to discuss terms via a fucking candygram.

  “So, uhhhhh,” Tris interrupted my thoughts, “is anyone gonna eat those candy bars? I totally don’t want them to get all melty.”

  What the fuck did I just get myself into?

  Chapter 6

  “I’m so honored you included me in your top four nobles, bro.” Todd was nearly ecstatic as we sailed down the River of Souls toward the First Circle of Hell. “Seriously, the Toddster’s used to being so awesome nobody can handle him. That’s why I was always picked last in gym class.”

  “Come on,” I mused, “you think I was gonna pay Plato a visit without bringing along his favorite little imp? Also, if things go south with Asmodeus, we might need you to go all Predator and go for help.”

  “Do you really have that little faith in us?” Ira cooed from behind us on the rocking boat. “There’s no way we’re getting captured by Asmo-fucking-deus.”

  I shot the succubus a curious look over my shoulder. “You know, between the candygram and the way you guys keep talking about him, I’m starting to have second thoughts here.”

  “Pay her no mind, Jacob,” Superbia spoke up. “Asmodeus might come across as a pushover, but he has a full army, as well as dozens of Demon Lords at his side. If we can get him on our side, then maybe, just maybe, some of the other Kings might join us. It would prove you were a leader worthy of following.”

  “Offing the demon who literally taught humans how to wage war wasn’t enough?” I scoffed. “It’s not like Azazel was a fucking pushover.”

  “No,” Ira admitted, “but his status had waned in his final days. After you defeated him the first time, the other Demon Kings thought he was losing his touch. After all, the idea that one of the most powerful Demon Lords in the universe could be defeated by a mere mortal was laughable. No offense.”

  “None taken,” I growled sarcastically.

  “Basically, the rest of the forces of Hell are salivating at the prospect of killing you and becoming the next King of the Fourth Circle,” the Sister of Wrath continued. “To them, you’re not a threat in the slightest.”

  “Again, water under the bridge,” I sighed. “Have they not heard of all the demons we slayed back on Earth? How I converted all those cultists and slayed Leviathan?”

  Ira put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “None of that matters, Jacob,” she explained. “Humans are seen as the lowest of the low, and almost every demon has a cult. And the demons we killed? They were all followers of Azazel. If the other Demon Kings thought he was weak, then they thought those bastards were even weaker.”

  “So none of the shit I’ve done in the last three years has meant anything to these fuckers?” I grumbled angrily. “I’m still just ‘the mortal?’”

  “To them, yes,” Cupiditas interjected as she put her hand on my shoulder, “but we all know better.”

  “Yeah,” Todd added. “We all know Jakey’s the baddest motherfucker this side of the realms. Badder than goddamn Shaft, badder than Rambo, and badder than mother-fucking Hulk Hogan.”

  I let out a surprised gasp. “Badder than Hulk Hogan?” I asked. “He’s like, your favorite wrestler of all time.”

  “Ah yes,” Cupi agreed, “the great warrior of Earth, Hulk Hogan.”

  “You must really think highly of me to lump me in with the Hulkster,” I whistled.

  “Fuck yeah, brother,” Todd chuckled as he threw his voice to sound like the pro wrestler. “All the demons of Hell better eat their vitamins and say their prayers, because Jakey is coming for ‘em!”

  “Thanks, bro.” I smiled and patted the imp on the head. “Who needs an army of demons when I’ve got friends like this?”

  “Uh, please tell me that’s rhetorical,” Todd begged in his normal voice. “Because nine badasses and some undertrained humans against the literal Armies of the Damned? I don’t like those odds one bit.”

  “Ah, come on,” I chuckled as I prodded the imp further. “We’ve beaten worse odds than that before.”

  “Todd’s right,” Sia agreed. “The Daeva were one thing. They were all untrained, mindless monsters Uriel and Beelzebub could point in a direction and tell to attack. Actual soldiers of Hell, though? Even the armies of the Divine were barely able to fight them off.”

  “I get it, I get it,” I conceded. “I was only partially joking. I’m confident Cupi here will get those Shades knocked into fighting shape, and then we’ll at least have a semi-functional army.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” the fit blonde laughed, “but we’ve still got a lot of work to do. Yesterday, I noticed most of them got winded doing a simple one-mile jog. That’s not even close to being in fi
ghting shape.”

  “You’ll get them there, Cupi,” Todd promised. “If the Toddster can go cold turkey on weed, then anything is possible.”

  “You gave up weed?” Ira gasped. “But what about you and Tris’ plans for a dispensary?”

  “I didn’t give it up willingly,” the imp clarified. “But I didn’t realize how long we were gonna be trapped down here, so I blew through it all in the first week. In fact, I hotboxed the shit out of the northwest guard tower.”

  “Is that why they keep volunteering to take that one on their guard shifts?” Cupi questioned with an extended finger. “Surely it must have worn off by now.”

  “I dunno … ” The imp admitted. “I smoked a whollllle bunch of the Green Death up there. They say it’s impossible to die from a marijuana overdose, but with that strain me and Slothy came up with, we sure as fuck are gonna try.”

  Our ship was just passing through the portal between the Second and First Circles as Todd was explaining his potent new strain of weed. The next thing we knew, the small dinghy was afloat in a vast blue lake that vaguely smelled of sulfur.

  Ah yes, the First Circle. The place was an “inferior version of Earth,” created for the mortals who lived a good life but didn’t believe in the Exalted One and his teachings. Everything looked exactly like a modern-day city, but with one small difference.

  It was chock-full of minor inconveniences and annoyances.

  Still, ever since we’d arrived in Hell, we made many acquaintances, both friend and foe.

  Black Bart the pirate and his crew tried to steal from us, and we’d to put him in his place. Likewise, we had a small yet insignificant altercation with George Carlin when Todd tried to do a “joke-off” with the late comedian.

  On the other hand, we’d made a great ally in the ancient Greek philosopher, Plato. The man had helped us when we first arrived in Hell, he helped us figure out how to get into the Second Circle, and he’s been our go-to contact for this region ever since.

  And there he was.

  As we approached one of the docks in the city of Limbo, I saw the philosopher standing at the pier diligently. He was wearing a perfectly-fitted, black three-piece suit with a white shirt underneath. On each of his feet he wore an even darker dress shoe so well-polished I could see the sun glinting off them from all the way out here. Finishing off his outfit was a bright red and white tie fastened to his neck with a neatly-done knot. Even though he came from the fifth century B.C., Plato sure knew how to dress snazzily.

  We pulled up to the pier, and Todd heaved the anchor over the edge as Cupi tied a quick knot around a nearby post. The five of us exited the ship and greeted or old friend happily.

  “Plato!” Todd exclaimed as he ran over and hugged the philosopher’s leg. “I’ve missed ya, you big hairy lug!”

  “It’s good to see you again too, Todd,” Plato chuckled.

  “Soooo, I have to talk to you about your newest historic erotica,” the imp implored. “A love triangle between Ben Franklin, Ghandi, and Queen Victoria? Pure. Gold. I can do little but thank you for your genius, bro.”

  “I’m the one who should be thanking you,” the philosopher explained. “If not for your words of encouragement, those books would have all just sat on my shelf collecting dust for all eternity. Now, they’re the First Circle’s number one best seller! But we can talk more about my work later.”

  “Hello, old friend.” I smiled and extended my hand.

  The philosopher shook it, and then pulled me in for a hug.

  “It’s been too long, Jacob,” he mused. “Or should I call you ‘King Ralston?’”

  “Nope,” I reassured the bearded man as I pulled away. “I fucking hate all that hierarchtical bullshit. I only make other demons call me by my full title.”

  The succubi walked up to the philosopher, and he wrapped Sia and Cupi in a warm embrace.

  “Superbia, Cupiditas, how have you been, my friends?” the philosopher implored, and then he saw Ira and held out his hand. “Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met before. Which succubus are you?”

  “I’m Ira.” The short-haired woman smiled and shook Plato’s hand. “The Sister of Wrath.”

  “Sister of Wrath?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “I hope I’m not being too forward, but I’d love it if I could pick your brain about some of that … what do you call it? EDM? I’m trying to work some of that into my work, but I don’t have the slightest idea where to start.”

  “EDM?” Todd snickered. “I think you’re wayyyy off the mark with your acronyms there, bud. Though, there’s a lot of leather and dog collars involved with that one, too.”

  Plato turned back to me and stroked his beard in thought.

  “So, Mr. Ralston,” he pondered aloud. “You’re meeting with Asmodeus? Has he agreed to join forces?”

  “Not quite,” I sighed. “He only said he wants to meet to discuss a possible alliance. Nothing concrete yet. I just hope we’re not walking into a trap or something like that.”

  “Highly doubtful,” the philosopher agreed. “I’ve only had limited interactions with the King of the First Circle, but he’s never seemed like a schemer to me. He wears his emotions very clearly on his sleeve at all times, so if he wanted to lure you into a trap, I doubt he’d be able to keep it a secret for long.”

  “Great,” I joked with a roll of my eyes. “So, if we’re being double-crossed, it’ll happen sooner rather than later.”

  Without another word, Plato walked toward the exit of the pier, turned around, and motioned for us to follow.

  “Come now, friends,” he pleaded. “Asmodeus’ cathedral is quite the hike, but I think we can make it there in a timely manner.”

  The succubi, Todd, and I followed the philosopher through the city of Limbo, and I couldn’t help but marvel in awe at the spectacle.

  Despite its minor annoyances, Limbo was a beautiful city. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought it was a sprawling metropolis on par with New York or Chicago, and not a Circle of Hell. Even the updates I’d made to the Fourth Circle paled in comparison.

  A few cars drove up and down the street, but most of the Shades in this Circle preferred to walk everywhere. We were greeted by dozens of friendly people as we journeyed toward our final destination, and I noticed some of them whispered to their friends as we passed.

  I guess word really did spread fast in Hell.

  Unlike the buildings back in my Circle, everything in Limbo was built just as it was on Earth. Metal, concrete, plaster and chrome replaced the brimstone I was accustomed to, and the glaring difference made all of the structures look like they had been plucked straight out of New York City.

  Then my nostrils were assaulted by a scent I hadn’t smelled in forever. It was a distinct scent of greasy cheese and garlic, with just a hint of yeast.

  Pizza.

  “Guys!” I shouted as I froze in place, and my stomach rumbled loudly. “Do you smell that?”

  The succubi, Todd, and Plato all began to smell the air, and then their faces contorted into expressions of longing.

  “Broooooo,” Todd whimpered. “Is that what I think it is? The delicious heart attack in wheel form?”

  I glanced down the nearby street to confirm my suspicions and was greeted by a massive sign that read Marty’s Pizzeria.

  “How much further is the cathedral from here?” I asked Plato hopefully. “Do we have time to stop for lunch?”

  The philosopher pulled a folded up piece of paper out of his pocket, opened it up, and ran his finger along the image.

  “According to my map, it’s only about another mile,” he explained. “I think we should be alright. Not to mention, we’ve been walking for the last hour. I think a food break is in order.”

  The second the words had left Plato’s mouth, a blur of red shot past us toward the restaurant.

  “Last one there has to pay for everything!” Todd cackled as he skidded to a stop at the pizzeria’s door.

  “I don�
�t think he quite understands everything is free in the First Circle,” Plato chuckled.

  “I’m still not over that yet,” Sia sighed. “It goes against the very fiber of my being.”

  The succubi, Plato, and I sauntered down to the restaurant’s glass door, pulled it open, and entered.

  Marty’s had a sort of “old school urban” aesthetic to it. The interior walls were made up of bright red bricks, and they were covered with all sorts of black and white photographs of city life. Every now and again, the nostalgic photographs were interrupted by a snarky sign that held some clever saying like “We ain’t ya mamma, clean up after yourself!” The tables looked like your standard midrange Italian place, with red and white checkered tablecloths laid across them and a small red basket that held condiments.

  Todd was already at the counter when we approached.

  “ … and a full order of BBQ wings,” he ordered. “And like, a full plate of your dessert cookies.”

  “Will that be all, sir?” the man behind the counter asked.

  “Hmmmm,” the imp pondered. “What do you guys think? I already ordered two pizzas, six sandwiches, some breadsticks, wings, cookies, and a two-liter.”

  “Wow,” Cupi joked. “You sure that’s enough?”

  Todd thought it over for a second, and then he turned back to the counter.

  “The bodacious blonde is right,” he said with a nod. “Better play it safe and add two more sandwiches and another pepperoni pizza to that order.”

  “Alright,” the man sighed as he typed in the order. “It’ll be right out.”

  The six of us meandered over to an empty table and sat down as we eagerly awaited our food. Even though there was nothing in front of us, the smell of the joint hit me like a ton of bricks and caused my stomach to churn hungrily.

  “You got a small bear hidden under your shirt, Jakey?” Todd chuckled.

  “It’s weird,” I admitted. “I’m not even that hungry, but the prospect of something that’s not vargrat is too good to pass up.”

  “I understand completely,” Sia added. “Gula might be the best chef in the universe, but any and all Earth food is better than eating vargrat meat. Even when it’s well-prepared.”