Incubus Inc. 3

by Randi Darren

  “That was before Jena scoured your brand from me and remade it with her own hand. I was never truly against you, but I had no choice.”

  Growling, feeling somehow cheated despite regaining all he’d lost and then some, Sam was angry. Angry that he still hadn’t ended Jenaphila’s life.

  Through the planar tears, Sam could feel something happening. It’d been building slowly as he interrogated the Water Elemental. Now it was becoming an overwhelming force that he couldn’t actually ignore.

  With a boom, the tears grew further, opening wider into full-blown planar fissures. Unstable points in reality that would take a great deal of time to mend themselves. They would remain open unless forcefully closed.

  “Oh, it’s just you,” said a voice from nowhere. “I honestly didn’t expect you, Sameerixis.”

  Once again, Sam was being tormented by the voice of Jenaphila.

  “It’s her,” whispered Erv, her hands coming up to grasp at Sam. Instead of him holding onto her, it was now her holding onto him.

  “I mean, even when I felt the brand from that useless bag of water you have there fade, I just figured she’d died,” Jenaphila said in a bored tone. “It’s rather surprising that it’s you, Sam. Probably the most surprising thing I’ve seen in the last century.

  “Well, that’s not true. Maybe the last decade. You’re surprising, but not that surprising. As long as your brand on me remained, there was no way you were dead.”

  Indeed. That’s very true.

  Which is why she removed the brand from Erv. Likely from everyone else as well that survived the turn-over.

  Removing a link to me and forcing it to re-register with her.

  “Hmph. Whatever. You can keep the toilet water and her part of the brand. I have no need for any of that,” Jenaphila said dismissively. “It honestly was more of a distraction anymore and provided nothing.”

  “You don’t say?” Sam asked, finally wrangling his thoughts around. Taking one hand from Erv’s breasts, he propped himself up partially. “Well, that’s fair, I suppose. It was never yours to begin with.

  “Speaking of never yours, how in the world did you convince this beautiful Elemental to take on your looks? You’re like a frog compared to her, you dull, simple-minded, boring-to-behold, plank of wood.

  “I could put a paper plate with three holes cut out of it, staple it to a two-by-four, then glue two peas on it for breasts, and it would have more of a figure than you.

  “This Elemental here is your better in every way. In fact, I bet she could beat your ass if you didn’t have my old brand on her. You’re like a bargain bin shopper that’s trying to return what she wanted to buy because she couldn’t afford it. You’re pathetic, Jenaphila.”

  Beneath him, Sam could feel Erv stiffen up and then promptly bury her face in his neck. She was trying to crawl into his chest and cease to exist.

  Sam couldn’t actually remember feeding on Erv, but considering the number of partners he’d had in the past, that wasn’t terribly surprising. He’d dined on Elementals a’plenty in his life.

  “You… you’re… you insufferable li—”

  Jena’s voice died out and she audibly took in a breath.

  “Hmph. That’s about as much of a victory you’ll get from those words, Sameerixis,” Jena said with a much cooler tone now. “I haven’t paid a moment’s notice thinking of you or that pathetic world.

  “I’m busy and you don’t matter at all to me. Not in the least. So much so that I don’t even go by that name anymore.

  “That’s how far removed I am from your pathetic existence. You don’t even compare to the effort I put into taking a shit.”

  “Really? You sure sound pissed for a drab-as-a-painted-wall-for-a-personality woman who probably couldn’t win a contest for ‘most homely housewife’. Got a response to that, you oatmeal looking pissant?” asked Sam with a laugh. “Cause I bet you don’t. I bet you wake up every day and have to remind yourself, Jenaphila, of how wrong everyone was to say you were bland looking.”

  While she didn’t have looks, charm, or grace, Jenaphila was at least more attractive than half the population. There were those who would swap places with her in a heartbeat.

  That didn’t matter to her in the slightest, though. She only saw women like Irma, or Erv, and resented them for their unwarranted gifts.

  “MY NAME IS SKIPPER, YOU PATHETIC LITTLE WORM!” screamed Jenaphila at the top of her lungs. It was loud to the point that it actually made Sam’s ears ring.

  “My name is Skipper. If I ever come across you in person, I’m going to carve that name into your chest before I tear out your heart,” growled Skipper. “And there won’t be a thing you can do about it. I may not be much of an Essence-Sorceress, as you constantly berated me for, but I’ve developed my natural abilities.

  “You won’t even be able to land a finger upon me, you filthy whore of a man. Disgusting monster.”

  “Skipper?” Sam asked aloud. He moved the hand he’d left on Erv’s breast to her shoulder and slid her closer to himself. He was fairly certain Skipper couldn’t actually harm them, but he didn’t want to risk it.

  He needed Erv. She was a gold mine of information into which he needed to start digging.

  “Yes. Skipper,” confirmed Skipper, her tone sounding quite imperious now.

  “Like… the little sister to Barbie? The bland wannabe that no little girl ever actually wanted?” asked Sam. “The one with no boobs and—”

  Skipper began screaming wordlessly at that. An incoherent rage the likes of which Sam hadn’t seen since she’d gotten into a fight with a Succubus Sam had invited over for dinner once upon a time.

  “Your impression of her was alright,” Sam said, glancing down at Erv. Now that he’d seen a full on ‘Jena-meltdown’ he could tell that Erv had been far more subdued in her Jena personality. “Clearly she shrieks a lot more than you gave her credit for.”

  Erv gave Sam a weird, frightened smile. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but there at the moment.

  Trailing off into enraged sputtering and panting, Skipper was unintelligible. Sam understood none of it.

  “Okay, look, Not-Barbie,” said Sam in between one of her loud inhales. “If you’re done throwing a hissy fit, I’d like to move onto playing in bed with the actual Barbie doll here.

  “I mean, my word, she’s gorgeous. I think I’d be willing to ask if I could wear her personal brand just based on how beautiful she is.

  “So, can you speed this up? Because I’m going to do my best to ruin your plans that you put in place here. I’ll counter everything you’ve ever done once I get the info out of Barbie.

  “In between thrusts, probably. But still, I’ll get it out of her. And when I do? I’ll just go along and merrily trim all your work back. Cut it down and burn it to the ground.”

  “FUCK YOU, YOU GOD DAMNED BASTARD!” yelled Skipper. A second after that, her presence vanished all together. Leaving behind nothing at all.

  Except a great many planar tears that were slowly expanding. Her arrival had made them considerably worse.

  Sighing, Sam closed his eyes and let his head hang down.

  Despite his words, his bravado, he felt as if he’d lost to Jenaphila. Or Skipper, as it were. Not only did he not manage to kill her, but she didn’t even seem to care.

  Whatever she’d done to this world was already long since over. Her plans were finished and she’d moved on to another world to probably do the same there.

  “I— she— you— she’s gone?” Erv asked, her fingers quite tightly dug into Sam’s front.

  “Mmhmm,” Sam said, not opening his eyes.

  A second after that, he felt the spell Erv had cast on him flutter twice, then break apart entirely. Dissipating into the Essence of the vault directly and combining with it.

  Except even with it gone, he couldn’t feel the planes that he knew he was connected with. Even the path the brand had taken, converting everything to his own, now felt dull an
d dim to him.

  “I’m sorry. We’re… somewhat trapped here,” murmured Erv. “Jena, or I guess Skipper, broke the area of the Void between Hell and the planes. She opened far too many planes when she was… uh, when she was kidnapping all the people of your race.”

  Sam could only nod his head slightly at those words. As soon as he could feel that there was nothing different after the spell had dissolved, he realized it was something else entirely.

  Opening his eyes, he looked at the planar tears.

  Trying to use them for anything remotely like travel was asking to be torn apart. A planar tear was open across a multitude of worlds regardless of what one could see through them.

  It’d be like being shot through a cheese grater strong enough to break steel into crumbs. There would be no surviving it.

  And since I pulled Erv through, the link she had with the spell back to the other plane was gone. We’re… trapped in Hell until I figure a way out.

  “Ah… my Lord Lust, what… should we do with the tears?” asked Abrah from a few feet away. She’d been present during the whole ordeal but had been unable to do anything.

  The amount of Essence being used between Sam and Erv had been more than enough to probably send her flying away.

  “Close them, of course,” Sam said and then let out a sigh.

  It would cost him a great deal of Essence to seal them shut. However, leaving them open wasn’t something he could do.

  They’d only keep growing until they expanded across the entirety of Hell. The problem was doubly so exacerbated because it was in the vault itself.

  Where all the Essence he would probably need to force open a portal was stored. Sam was already contemplating ripping open a portal to the Void, then one to another plane.

  Opening a portal straight to the Void was something he’d never considered before. Not until Erv had done it herself. He imagined the amount of Essence required to do such a thing would be incredibly high.

  He needed the Essence that was here in the vault, except that wasn’t meant to be. Either he’d lose it to the tears expanding, or lose it to closing them entirely.

  “Damned if I do, damned if I don’t,” he muttered.

  Then the tears suddenly merged together with a clap of force. So strong was it, that it blew Sam’s hair back as if he were staring into a full force windstorm.

  “Wha-what have you done? What did you do?” demanded a wizened old voice.

  Ah, what?

  Fifteen - Equivalent Exchange -

  Before Sam could consider what was now happening, a force grabbed onto him. It locked his muscles in place, paralyzing him.

  All around him, the world seemed to freeze as well. Abrah, Erv, and even the swirling Essence, all ceased moving.

  Then Sam was jerked through the massive planar tear. Being pulled through it against his will.

  A cold, numbing sensation ran along Sam’s body as he went through. Past a barrier that no one would ever willingly cross.

  Coming out the other side, Sam found himself in a large room. There was a single table, a chair, and an old man who occupied the seat.

  He looked like something out of a fantasy novel. The top of his head was missing all its hair, while the sides were white. White and long. Hanging all the way down to his hips, in fact.

  As did his beard, though his mustache was kept rather short.

  His face was a crisscross of wrinkles that made him look like a piece of paper that’d been crumpled into a ball. Then unfolded, and crumpled again.

  Throughout the room were countless portals, tears, and windows into other places and times. From portals no bigger than a few inches across to some that spanned ten feet. Quite a few intersected one another as well.

  “You! You-you-you-you damn insufferable shit!” yelled the old man. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Those tears-those tears that you made by forcing someone to Hell, will grow until they devour Hell entirely.

  “On top of that, you forced a portal shift before the fabric of Hell’s plane was healed. For all the good it did for sealing it off, you’ve gone and destroyed it in less than five minutes!”

  Glaring at Sam from under his bushy eyebrows, the old man looked to be waiting for Sam to respond.

  “I… you know what,” said Sam, followed by a sigh. Then he shook his head. The best he could figure was this was some type of gatekeeper left behind by the Originator or the Architect. That they were monitoring and watching over the planes and how they interconnected. “I wish I could respond to any of what you just said, but I’ll be honest here, I had no clue. I had no idea of anything that you just said.

  “If I’m being completely honest, I don’t even understand what you said. It sounds like you’re the reason Hell can’t open a portal to anywhere else, but that you were doing it to help Hell.”

  “Truth,” grumbled the old man with a nod of his head.

  “Well, here’s some more truth then. I have no idea what side of this fight you’re on. Zeus, Originator, Architect, or if you even know the truth of this world,” said Sam, continuing to run with the only idea he had.

  The old man blinked and raised his head with a jerk. He was looking at Sam in a very different way now.

  “Yeah, I know. I know a lot, but not enough,” said Sam. “I work with Miles and Eugenia. Though they’ve never mentioned you before.

  “Were you stuck here by the Architect? Seems like something he’d do. Or so I hear from Aster and Eugenia.”

  Opening his mouth and closing it several times, Sam got the impression that, while the old man knew much, his experience with other people was very limited. He clearly didn’t know how to hide his emotions or reactions very well.

  “I… serve Ryker, yes,” murmured the old man. “He placed me here to make sure the plane-space worked as intended. He was never quite sure it would work. He-he said that it was a work-around solution that he came up with rather than an ideal one.

  “Then he made me the stop-gap to make sure everything kept working. Kept moving as he wished it to.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, good on you. I’m afraid I didn’t know any of that, so I’m just doing what I can here,” Sam said and then flexed his arms. “Now are you done trying to intimidate me Mr. Stop-Gap? Can you release me?

  “My arms are going numb. On top of that, I should probably let you know that I plan on opening a portal out of Hell and back to the prime plane. I need to get back home.”

  “Impossible. It would destroy Hell’s ability to ever open a portal again,” hissed the old man. He then waved his hand with a flick of his fingers. The force holding Sam upright let go of him.

  Landing on his feet, Sam held his hands up in an apology.

  “Sorry, but I have to. I have two mortals that ended up in Hell with me that simply won’t survive. They’re my wives. I’ll not allow them to die just for the sake of Hell being able to open planes again in the future.”

  “Mortals?”

  The old man frowned at that and turned his head to the side. Lifting his left hand, he made a circular gesture and a portal opened right there.

  Through it, Sam could see a view of Carissa and Irma sitting in Abrah’s home. They were frozen in time as well.

  “Yes. I see. You do indeed have mortals who won’t survive,” grumbled the old man.

  “Right? So. I need to open a portal back to the prime and get home. One way, or another, it’ll happen. And unless you want me to keep calling you Mr. Stop-Gap, Mr. Stop-Gap, you should probably give me your name. I’m Sameerixis.”

  “I know who you are, Sameerixis Fidenis Xilin Fisch Elh Caerwin Aderin Telis,” the old man hissed, stating Sam’s true and full name. “Who do you think it was that allowed you to leave Hell the first time? I can just as easily deny planar travel as allow it, you know.

  “I have a personal policy of non-interference, though, so long as the planar mesh is safe. Everything else can rot.

  “As for a name… you can call me Nicodimus.”
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  “Right, fine, Nicodimus,” Sam said in a much more subdued tone. The fact that Nicodimus knew the truth of his name had unnerved him to a degree. “I still need to get back home.”

  Nicodimus continued to stare into the portal that displayed Carissa and Irma. Then he moved his hand across his table and opened up several more.

  A number of the portals were opened to what seemed to be Sam’s home. A view of several of his wives and harem members were displayed in various locations.

  “So it would seem. I can’t argue that this is your home plane given how much of your brand is here,” complained Nicodimus. “Oh. And that you have children on it.”

  Sam mentally winced at that.

  He knew Irene and Abigail were already at the point where they could technically give birth and the children would be safe.

  That the babies would be fine, even if they were a little premature.

  Sounds like I missed a birth. Maybe both.

  Damn it.

  “Fine. We’ll make a deal,” Nicodimus declared, turning back to Sam. “You do love your deals, don’t you, Sameerixis?”

  Unable to help himself, Sam nodded at that. He did enjoy making deals. Though right now, he was rather concerned with the fact that he’d be making a deal with someone who had been personally placed by the Architect.

  “Fine. That little bitch Jenaphila. Or Skipper. Whatever the fuck she calls herself,” Nicodimus said with a great deal of heat. Apparently, he had no love at all for her. “She set up something in Hell that has been one of the reasons it’s taking so long for the plane to mend.

  “One of the reasons you were able to tear such a large hole in it, in fact. It’s what she did when she was enslaving your race. She set up a massive sigil diagram. One that is literally interfering with the natural order of Hell. It is preventing a great many Demonic powers from functioning, redirecting Essence, and wreaking havoc.

  “I want you to find the sigil diagram, destroy it, and make sure it’s not working anymore. Then I’ll be willing to open a portal for you to go home. Until then, though, I’ll personally block you from doing so. I won’t allow Hell to fall just for your own sake.”