by Eric Vall
“Ya gotta level up, bro,” Todd reiterated. “We need to hit the grind.”
Tris let out a long sigh. “Grind?” she whined. “Doesn’t that, like, take hours and hours? We’re totally gonna miss Bigfoot Files now.”
“Chin up, Slothy,” the imp encouraged as he floated over to the succubus, “with the magic of the internet, we can always download it after the fact. I’ll just toss on my eyepatch and my bandana, and I’ll hit the high seas of the dark web.”
“You go to the dark web just to pirate TV shows?” I asked curiously. “You know you can do that with the regular ‘ol internet, right?”
Todd shook his head furiously. “The government is watching the regular internet,” he explained. “Believe it or not, I’m one of its biggest critics, and that’s how they get ya. You go to download the newest action-thriller on some torrenting site, and then the next thing you know they’ve got you in front of a grand jury, and you’re being hit with the whole book! The dark web is the only place the Toddster can be the Toddster.”
“That sounds … very sketchy,” I admitted.
“It is,” Todd said. ”But it’s better than letting the man know what I’m up to.”
“Right,” I sighed and turned toward a small village in the distance. “So, we need to get grinding. Should we try to find a pack of vargrats or something and keep taking them out until we’re stronger?”
“Vargrats might be a nuisance,” Ira said with a shake of her head, “but they’re not going to give you the full experience of taking on a demonic warrior in Hell. If you really want to get rough and raw, you have to throw yourself balls-deep into the tournament. They are held daily at every single village in the Fourth Circle, so you might still be able to hop into one before it’s too late. All we have to do is take out one of the current fighters and throw on his armor, and nobody will know the difference.”
“Sooooo, we just have to watch Jacob kick ass and take names?” Tris questioned curiously.
“That’s the idea,” Ira confirmed. “But there’s also more to it. The current champions of these jousts are Azazel’s finest demons. If you were to defeat any of them in battle, it would expose just how inferior the King of the Fourth Circle and his minions are compared to you.”
“Are you suggesting turning the Shades against Azazel?” I asked curiously. “Has nobody seriously thought of that before?”
“Plenty have thought about it,” the Sister of Wrath sighed, “but nobody has been strong enough to woo them over. I’m very confident you could be the first.”
“Then we need to find one of these tournaments,” I agreed.
The four of us turned toward the village in the distance and began to head in that direction. We walked for about three or four miles, taking in the beautiful landscape as we went.
At least on the surface, the Fourth Circle was a far cry from the three we’d been in so far. The First Circle was a “lesser version of Heaven,” so it just looked like a modern city where the only catch was that it was full of minor inconveniences. The Second and Third Circles, however, were desolate wastelands full of horrors to the greatest extent of their creators’ imaginations.
As we got closer to the village, I realized it looked like something ripped straight out of one of my old history textbooks. We passed by several Shades, souls of the dead, who were out tending large fields of wheat with giant sickles and plows attached to zombified cattle. The village walls themselves were made of dark gray stones that looked like the brimstone we’d seen on the ground back in the other Circles. The brimstones were of different shapes and sizes, and they were cobbled together to create a ten-foot tall barrier that surrounded the entire community like a fortress. At the front of the wall was a large archway with a parchment banner that read Village of Thea in big, stylistic font.
“He really went all out with the medieval shit, didn’t he?” Todd whistled as we passed underneath the threshold. “Now I’m gonna totally be disappointed if we don’t see some dude in tights scream ‘Tallyho!’ and swing down from a tower.”
“Speaking of tights,” I said as I looked around nervously, “do you think we need to find a change of clothes? Right now we’re standing out like a sore thumb.”
I was still wearing the t-shirt and combat pants I’d had on the entire journey, while the two succubi were in skin-tight modern blouses and leggings that showed off their perfect asses. I could tell the girls had the attention of most of the men in the village as we walked by, and the last thing we needed right now was every single villager’s eyes on us.
We needed to get changed, and we needed to change quickly.
“Ugh, do we have to?” Tris asked with disgust in her voice. “All the women’s clothes here look so constricting and uncomfortable. Nothing like these bad boys.”
As she spoke, the Sister of Sloth rocked her knees and stretched out to the side. Tris turned around and bent downward so the leggings showed off her tight ass. Finally, she did a little hop into the air, threw her legs out, and landed into a splits position. The succubus shot me a look of “I told you so” and slowly moved her legs together so she was back in the upright position.
“See?” she said matter-of-factly. “You can’t do that shit in a corset.”
“I think that’s the most I’ve ever seen you move,” Ira gasped.
“Okay, so a disguise would limit your mobility,” I admitted. “Buuuut, look around.”
I gestured all around, to the large group of men who had stopped in their tracks and admired the succubus’ flexibility. They all wore a mixture of shock and curiosity on their faces, with a little bit of horniness thrown in for good measure.
“I think literally every set of eyes in this village is on us right now,” I explained. “Not exactly good when you’re trying to blend in. We need new outfits.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard, Jakey,” Todd explained. “We’re in a medieval-type city. Maytag wasn’t exactly a thing back then, so there should be shit hung out to dry all over.”
I scanned the village around us and quickly saw the imp was right.
No more than a city block away from us sat a woman under a small pavilion. She was dressed in a dark brown dress detailed with a green square on the chest. The woman wore a scarf on her head, and she had her strawberry blonde hair cut short. Most importantly, however, were her actions.
The woman was sitting in front of a well with a bucket full of suds. She’d pull out a piece of fabric, dip it in the soapy water, and then scrub it against a washboard.
“That’s just terrible technique,” Tris observed. “Also, that’s totally not how they washed things in the Middle Ages. So much for authenticity.”
“You have to remember, Sister,” Ira began, “the Shades who inhabit this place are from all periods of time. Most of them are used to dealing with cars and televisions and dishwashers, so this is all a difficult transition.”
“Either way, she’s got the goods,” Todd added. “And I’m not just talking about her tits.”
“You’re talking about her ass, too?” I joked.
“I’m totally talking about her ass, too,” Todd confirmed. “But I’m also talking about those outfits she’s got hanging on the clothesline behind her.”
As the woman in the dress washed her clothes, she hung them out to dry on a thin line of wire behind her. There were four women’s outfits, a man’s outfit, and what appeared to be three garments meant for children.
That would work.
I quickly reached out and engulfed three of the outfits in emerald Hellfire. Using delicate hand motions, I slowly moved them off the wire and then pulled them through the air toward the four of us. Once they had arrived safely in our possession, I motioned for the team to duck into a nearby alleyway.
“Is this a head hole or an arm hole?” I asked as I pulled the shirt over my head and got it stuck in the opening.
“A hole’s a hole, Jakey,” Todd snickered. “You’ll make it work, even if you gotta tea
r it open.”
“I’d hate to have been one of your girlfriends,” Tris snarked as she placed a loose dress over her body.
“Speak for yourself,” Ira added as she licked her lips at me. “Some of us like getting torn open and spread wide by a certain someone’s big, thick, massive—”
“Okay!” Todd clapped his hand over his mouth as his eyes widened. He made a few gagging sounds, and then he stumbled over and leaned against the wall of the alley with his right hand. The imp began to dry heave, but nothing was coming out.
“Just--just give me a minute,” he begged.
“Sure thing, Todd,” I promised and finally popped my head through the top of the shirt.
These outfits were the epitome of peasant clothing. Both Ira and Tris were now wearing loose-fitting dresses that were a dark brown and came all the way down to their feet. They both had long sleeves that hung off their arms like angel wings, and on their heads they wore a white bonnet-like garment. Completing the whole “peasant” aesthetic was a green corset-like chestpiece.
Even though the outfits were about as modest as you could get, the succubi still looked fine as fuck in them.
Then there was me. The clothes I’d traded for were much, much worse than what the girls got. My outfit was comprised of a pair of brown, baggy pants and a light green shirt two sizes too big and had to be held onto my body by a long piece of rope. There was also a dark brown hood piece that went over my head and came all the way down to my mid torso and made me look like Kermit the fucking frog.
To make matters worse, the entire getup was scratchy as hell. What was it made out of, old potato sacks? The sooner we could get out of these things, the better.
Ira and Tris tried to hold in their amusement when they saw me in the new duds, but the twitching corners of their mouths gave them away.
“Jacob, you look … ” Ira trailed off as she looked for something nice to say.
“Fucking hell!” Tris interjected. “I think these clothes are more comfy than the leggings! I’m going commando under this thing, and I couldn’t feel more free. All we need now is a gentle breeze and some blunts, and I’ll be on cloud nine.”
“I’m glad you like them,” I mumbled. “At least yours look good on you.”
Todd finally recomposed himself and walked back over to the group. He wiped a bit of dribble from his mouth, looked up at me, and then a smile spread across his lips.
I held up my hand and stopped the imp before he could make his comment. “Not one word, Todd,” I warned. “Not one fucking word.”
“But, but--” he protested. “I’ve got so many good jokes I could make right now!”
“After we find the tournament,” I promised. “Once I’m actually out of these fucking clothes, you can make all the jokes you want.”
“Well, then,” Todd began as he walked toward the entrance of the alleyway, “we’d better get a move on it! The sooner we get Jakey to the joust, the sooner the Toddster’s creative comebacks can flow. Heyyyyy, that looks awful ‘jousty’ over there. Let’s gooooo!”
The imp dashed off in the direction of the supposed joust, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. I looked over at the succubi, took a bow, and held out my arm for them to pass.
“M’ladies,” I joked.
The two woman curtseyed with a laugh and then went to follow Todd.
As I walked close at their heels, I wondered just what the fuck I was getting myself into.
Chapter 2
It didn’t take us very long to find where the tournament was being held. Not five minutes after we’d exited the alleyway in our new disguises, we heard a trumpet in the distance, immediately followed by the footsteps of a thousand villagers as they rushed toward it. We followed the stampede of people until we came to a miniature colosseum-style structure at the far edge of the village.
Its walls were only about twenty feet tall or so, but its circumference was massive. Instead of marble, like the colosseum in Rome, this building was made up of a series of thick wooden beams spread out at five or six foot intervals, with clay-like walls stretched out in between. Every twenty feet there was an archway just tall enough for a person to fit under.
“Wattle and daub,” Ira mused as we approached the colosseum. “Azazel must really hate this village.”
“What’s wattle and daub?” I asked curiously.
“It was a comedy duo from the twenties,” Todd interrupted. “Don’t be a dumbass, Jakey.”
“Actually… ” Ira corrected the imp, “it was a form of building walls back in the medieval period, where you’d thatch together wood and then cover it with a mix of clay, straw, and animal dung.”
“Wait,” Todd said as he looked over the building with wide eyes. “So you’re telling me I’m staring at a giant pile of shit?”
The Sister of Wrath just shrugged. “More or less,” she chuckled. “What did you think that smell was?”
“I figured it was you guys’ clothes,” the imp shot back without missing a beat. “I have a sneaking suspicion those were white when they were made … ”
Even though there were thousands of people descending on the colosseum, we were able to push our way through the crowds and into the venue. Once inside, we were shoulder-to-shoulder with the other villagers as we marched toward the main area.
“Reminds ya of Bonnaroo, right Jakey?” Todd mused as we tried to stick as close together as we could. “Those were the fucking days.”
We continued on until we finally arrived in the main section of the colosseum. There were rows upon rows of wooden bleachers, all set around a field of sand that had to be the size of a football field. I glanced up and noticed there was no ceiling, and I briefly wondered if there was such a thing as weather delays in a place like this.
“So, I need to figure out a way into this tournament,” I explained. “We can’t really do much from the nosebleeds.”
Ira pointed toward a small tunnel at the far corner of the field. “That’s where the fighters come out,” she explained. “If we go down there and follow that path, it should lead us directly to where the fighters are getting ready.”
“The locker room?” Todd gasped. “No way, José. It’ll be like sausage city in there! I’ve already got hundreds of emotional scars from my middle school days. There weren’t enough ‘no homos’ in the world that could save me from what I saw back then.”
“There’s only one person in the fighter prep area,” Ira sighed. “We’ll sneak in, knock him out, and then Jacob can take his place.”
“And then, hopefully, I’ll work my way up the ladder and get some one-on-one experience against demons in their most powerful form,” I finished. “It’s a crazy fucking plan, but it just might work.”
The four of us descended the bleachers until we came down to the very last level. Several villagers grumbled at us, telling us to find our own seats and to “get down in front.” As we moved toward the tunnel, I noticed there was a monster of a man standing in front of its entrance.
“That’d be security,” Ira confirmed. “You want me to handle it? I’ve dealt with these guys before. They’re total pushovers when it comes to a beautiful woman.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Tris interjected. “I never volunteered to do anything.”
“I was talking about myself, Sister,” the dark-haired succubus shot back. “I’ll go down and flirt with him a little bit, and you three can sneak back into the prep room.”
I gave the succubus a nod of confirmation, and then she turned around and hopped over the banister.
The second she struck the ground, there was a sickening “pop,” and Ira let out a wail of agony. Our security guard instantly dashed over to see if she was okay, and the trap was sprung.
Todd, Tris, and I quietly slid over the banister and shuffled off into the tunnel. As we moved further into the bowels of the colosseum, Ira’s fake screams of pain grew quieter until they were finally out of earshot.
“She’s really, really good a
t that,” I observed.
“Good at faking it?” Todd snickered. “That doesn’t bode well for you, bro.”
“Please,” Tris chimed in as we saw a light appear at the end of the tunnel, “nobody needs to fake it with Jacob. That I can say one-hundred percent from experience.”
The tall brunette shot me a coy smile, and I felt my pants tightening as I thought back to the night we’d spent together at the Velvet Lips. I’d stomped away from my friends in a flurry to clear my head, and Tris offered to help with a little bit of her favorite weed. One thing led to another, and the two of us ended up in the throes of passion. We’d made love multiple times since then, but there was something special about the first time. Something that made me want to hold onto the memory for the rest of my life.
“If you two lovebirds are done with the ‘fuck me eyes,’ we’re here.” Todd’s impish voice cut my daydreaming short.
We exited the tunnel and found ourselves in a medium-sized room that looked completely out of place in the medieval world of the Fourth Circle. It had a concrete floor epoxied with some sort of black coating that made it shiny, and the walls were covered with weapon mounts that held every single hand-to-hand weapon known to man. There were dozens of swords of varying lengths and widths, each with a different type of hilt. Morning stars, maces, spears, axes, and crossbows lined the walls like it was a convenience store of death. To the immediate right of all the weaponry were a few life-sized mannequins decked out in armor.
Just from a quick glance, I could tell each one was built for a different style of fighting. There was your traditional suit of armor, complete with a pointed visor and a bright red plume in the helmet. Then there was a set that had metal pants with a thick leather top and no helmet whatsoever. The third piece was composed mostly of chainmail, with a skirt-like bottom and a long and flat-faced helmet. Last, but certainly not least, was a massive, hulking suit of armor nearly double my size and looked like it could take a cannonball without getting so much as a dent.
