Succubus Lord 12

by Eric Vall

“However, unlike Baphomet, who forced us to relive our demise twenty-four seven, Mephisto only requires that we do it once a day,” Tyler explained. “He even lets us choose what time of day we get to do it! I know it sounds somewhat macabre, but compared to what Baphomet had us doing, this is as close to Heaven as we’re ever going to get.”

  It may have been twisted and fucked up, but the Shade was right. At least Mephisto seemed to be treating them well.

  “So, are you guys like, all emo and stuff?” Invidia spoke up. “If you have to die at least once every day, I’m sure your minds are filled with all sorts of dark, depressing thoughts. Right?”

  “Not any longer,” Tyler announced proudly. “Under King Mephisto, morale has never been higher.”

  “Laaaaammmme,” Invidia mumbled under her breath and crossed her arms over her chest. “At least tell me you listen to like, Johnny Cash or something. The later years, though, not the upbeat early stuff.”

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Tyler shrugged, “but we’re all happy as a lark here. Minus those few minutes where we are dying, of course. Those are moments of deep, dark sadness that make us question whether or not there truly is a God and Devil, or if this is just the universe’s way of laughing at us until our ball of floating space debris is destroyed by the eventual heat death of the Universe.”

  “Now, that’s what I’m talking about!” Vidia grinned. “I want to hear more about that.”

  “Perhaps later,” Tyler sighed. “For now, please come in. King Mephisto wishes to gather all of you in his War Room.”

  The six of us followed Tyler through the palace, and we couldn’t help but marvel at everything along the way. The floors and ceiling were painted in a distinct Mediterranean style, with intricate tile work and bright colors throughout. Every now and again, we’d pass a small marble statue, and each one represented a different ally of Mephisto. Todd, my succubi, and myself were present, as were Mammon, Lilith, and Asmodeus.

  It was an over-the-top gesture, but a nice one nonetheless.

  Eventually, Tyler brought us to a large room with no door and a large, arched opening. He walked through the marble threshold, glanced up at the ceiling, and put his hands over his mouth to amplify the sound.

  “King Ralston and his party are here, my King!” Tyler called out.

  Excellent, Mephisto’s voice replied, please send them in.

  The Shade turned and then motioned for us to enter, and we obliged.

  I let out an impressed whistle as I entered Mephisto’s War Room. The entire thing was shaped into a large circle, and the ceiling stretched nearly one-hundred feet tall. Each and every wall of the place was covered head-to-toe with a carved-in bookcase, and hundreds of thousands of individual titles littered their shelves. Meanwhile, at the center of the room sat a raised, marble, circular table surrounded by dark wooden chairs. Just off to the right of the table stood a map of the different Circles of Hell, which had been attached to a rolling whiteboard for ease of access.

  I had to admit, this place made my Who Wants to be a Millionaire War Room look like child’s play.

  We all looked toward the ceiling as Mephisto, the King of the Fifth Circle and the Master of Whispers, appeared above our heads. The Demon King was wearing nothing but a pair of baggy brown shorts and an elegant, gold crown atop his head as he fluttered down to meet us. Even his mouth, which had been eternally sewn shut, appeared to be more regal than usual. The stitches that held his lips together now glistened with the same gold of his crown, and his horns were now even bespeckled with the beautiful metal.

  Do you like it? the Master of Whispers implored. I figured I should stick with a look that says ‘simple, yet elegant.’

  “Mission accomplished,” Libidine said with a nod. “You truly look like a king, Mephisto.”

  It is all thanks to you, my friends, the orange Demon King reminded us. If I hadn’t had a king who believed in me, I would still be locked in a flaming tomb right now.

  “You’re welcome,” Todd snickered. “So, uh … what’s your rule on Prima Nocta around here?”

  There is none, the Demon King admitted, but good luck finding a female Shade willing to sleep with a demon. They’re still trying to get over all the terrible things that happened under Baphomet’s regime.

  “And that was why it was so important that I picked a good King,” I explained to the King of the Fifth Circle. “The more Shades we can inspire to work with us, the greater our chances of victory become. If we can build up an entire army of Shades who are actually committed to our cause, nothing will be able to stop us.”

  That is correct, my friend, Mephisto said with a happy nod. Hopefully, the other Demon Kings will see it your way. If you don’t mind me asking, what is the purpose of this meeting, King Ralston?

  “I have a proposition to make,” I explained, “one that’s gonna sound totally crazy to everybody at this table. But I think it’s the right one.”

  Whatever it is, know you have the Fifth Circle’s full support, the Master of Whispers reassured me. Always.

  “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, Great Pumpkin,” Todd warned, “agreeing to something before you even hear it is how I got stuck in a really, reaaaallllly awkward situation with one of my exes. She totally wanted to have a threesome and, being the dude everyone knows I am, I started to prepare the ‘ol schlonger so it could satisfy two babes at the same time. You know what happened? The amazing day finally came upon us, and guess what? She invited a fucking dude! Total miscommunication on our part, bro.”

  “That sounds terrible,” Libidine gasped, “what happened next?”

  “Oh,” Todd scoffed, “I let them go for it, and I just went into the other room and flipped on Bigfoot Files. There are not enough ‘no homos’ in the world to fix that whole situation. I totally dodged a bullet.”

  Mirage started to say something, but I shook my head furiously to dissuade her. Todd had been taken advantage of by his bitch of an ex so many times, I really didn’t want to be the one to break it to him this time.

  Off in the distance, I suddenly heard a slew of trumpets.

  That must be one of our other guests, Mephisto mused. Come. Let’s prepare to talk business.

  Mephisto, my Demon Lords, and I all sauntered over and took our places around the table in the middle of the room, and I made sure to put a little bit of space between Mephisto and I so the other Demon Kings didn’t think we were in collusion with each other.

  Finally, our first ally arrived.

  We heard him coming a mile away, quite literally. Heavy footsteps echoed through the hallways, and it almost felt like Mephisto’s palace was rumbling with each thump of the Demon King’s feet.

  The gargantuan, yellow-skinned form of Mammon appeared on the other side of the door before he paused and looked over the threshold. The King of the Second Circle let out a deep “harumph” as he attempted to enter through the opening, but his large gut got caught against the sides. Then Mammon took a deep breath and sucked in his stomach just enough so it cleared the wall and allowed him to slip into the room.

  Mammon’s skin was glistening with sweat from his exertion, and the Demon King was huffing as if he’d just run a marathon. He wobbled his bulk over to the table, pulled out one of the wooden chairs, and plopped his giant ass down onto it.

  “Peecha wanchee lockhba tang nannee du chonky troy, oh-hoho,” Todd whispered in a deep, Jabba-esque voice.

  “Be nice,” I hissed back at the imp beside me, even though I was trying to contain my laughter. “Mammon may be a bit on the chunky side, but he’s still our ally.”

  Then the War Room was filled with the distinct sound of creaking wood. It was coming from underneath Mammon’s chunky mass, and I knew what was about to happen.

  There was a loud crack as the wooden chair underneath the King of the Second Circle splintered into a million pieces and sent him tumbling backward onto his back. The entire room shook from the impact when Mammon hit the ground, and Mephi
sto and I leapt to our feet to see if we could help the fallen king.

  Are you alright? Mephisto implored as we both reached out and grabbed Mammon’s lower arm.

  Mephisto and I heaved as hard as we could, but this guy felt like he weighed a literal ton. Finally, I summoned purple Hellfire into my hands, tossed down a barrier underneath Mammon’s back, and then commanded it to slowly raise up until the yellow-skinned demon was in an upright position.

  “Smarter, not harder,” I chuckled as I stepped back and brushed my hands together in victory. “But seriously, are you alright?”

  “I’m a Demon King, my friend,” Mammon gurgled through his goiter-laden voice box. “It’s going to take a lot more than a little tumble to take me out.”

  Shall I bring you another chair? Mephisto asked, but Mammon simply dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

  “That will not be necessary, King Mephisto,” he explained, “I’ve yet to find a wooden chair that could hold my figure. I suppose I have too much muscle … ”

  “That’s totally what we’re going with,” Todd snickered.

  “Here,” I noted as I summoned another horizontal platform of purple Hellfire, “it’s not the most comfortable chair, but at least it’ll hold up.”

  “Why thank you, King Ralston,” Mammon said with an appreciative nod.

  The King of the Second Circle plopped his large burlap sack of coins down on the table in front of us and then slowly eased himself down onto the floating platform.

  I tried to hide my grunt as I felt his weight threaten to break my barrier, but I was able to hold on. Then I gave the Demon King a thumbs up as I headed back to my spot at the table.

  “I suppose a congratulations is in order, eh?” Mammon mused. “I never would have pegged you for a Demon King, Mephisto.”

  Nor would I, Mephisto admitted, but King Ralston felt otherwise. And I have learned in our short time together that King Ralston’s instincts are always correct.

  “You know, it’s funny,” Mammon pondered aloud as he stuck one of his fat fingers into his ear and went drilling for gold, “we hadn’t had a change in Demon Kings for hundreds of thousands of years, but now? They seem to be changing as often as the setting sun! Tell me … should you be successful in your mission, who do you plan to install in place of Gressil and Beelzebub?”

  I sat back in my chair and tilted my head to the side as I pondered the demon’s words. I honestly hadn’t given a single second of thought to that question, but it was a good one.

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted, “I figured we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, and we’ve got a long way to go before we’re there.”

  As I thought about Mammon’s proposition, I saw a tall, dark-haired Shade appear out of the corner of my eye. He was followed by a chorus line of other Shades, each one with their own bass guitar in their hands.

  It was Ronaldo, Asmodeus’ hype man, and his announcing party.

  “All rise for the arrival of his gloriousness,” Ronaldo declared, “the one and only sex machine, the Ten-inch penetrator himself, King Asmodeus of the First Circle!”

  The guitar players began to pluck out their funky dance tune, and Asmodeus appeared through the door.

  He was wearing a blue blazer over his naked torso that looked like it was made out of pure snakeskin. It had a singular golden shoulder pad that must have jutted out a full foot off his left side, and his bottom half was squeezed into black leather pants that looked like they would rip if he bent over.

  The green-skinned demon used his jewel-encrusted cane as support as he made his way to the table, sat down across from us, and then lifted his fist into the air.

  Instantly, the fanfare stopped.

  “Thank you, Ronaldo,” he said to his Shade. “The lot of you are dismissed for now. Go have an orgy in the guest room or something.”

  All of the Shades let out a small “woohoo” as they turned and ran out of sight.

  Mephisto raised his hand to protest, but they were gone before he could get a single word out. The orange demon bowed his head in frustration, shook it amusedly, and then folded his hands across the table.

  Welcome, Asmodeus, he greeted the King of the First Circle. It is an honor to finally meet you in the flesh.

  “I absolutely looovee what you’ve done with this place,” Asmodeus mused as he leaned back and crossed his left leg over his right. “I think Ancient Greece has to be my favorite time period ever. They were very … open about all of their desires, if you get my drift. I wish the world were more like that nowadays. Anyways, I appreciate your invitation, and I’m glad to see another Demon King on our side. But, if I may ask … how were you coronated? King Ralston is still relatively new to this place. He wouldn’t know how to do it, nor would any of his succubi.”

  “Demon Lords,” Mirage corrected.

  An annoyed smile arose at the corner of Asmodeus’ lips, and he turned his head slowly to look at the succubus.

  “My mistake,” he said through gritted teeth, “good to see you again, Mirage. I hope your transition between masters has been going well.”

  “I’m as good as I’ve ever been,” Mirage grinned, “thank you for letting me go to him.”

  “Of course he let you go!” Mammon laughed. “This is King Ralston we’re talking about, here. If Asmodeus hadn’t agreed to part company with you, the King of the Fourth Circle here woulda just swooped in and taken ya anyway! That’s what I love about this guy over here. He takes what he wants with no fear of repercussions.”

  “Perhaps.” Asmodeus shrugged, “but Mirage was a gift of good faith to my closest ally. Now, King Mephisto, why have you summoned us all here today?”

  We are still waiting on our last guest, Mephisto noted. I don’t want to begin until she arrives.

  “She?” Asmodeus questioned with a frown. “Are we really going to hold off on an important meeting just because one of the Demon Lords is running late?”

  “She is much more than just a Demon Lord,” Superbia finally spoke up. “It would be unwise to start the meeting without her presence.”

  “I think we’ll be fine,” Mammon scoffed. “We can have the imp take notes and catch her up later. I want to know what sort of fame and fortune awaits us on our next mission.”

  “I’m sure Todd would take great notes,” an angelic voice spoke up from the doorway, “but I much prefer to be kept in the loop by my allies themselves.”

  Lilith, the Demon Queen, stepped through the threshold and into the war room. She was adorned with a breastplate, thigh armor, and boots made up of pure gold, and each piece hugged her tender curves like a wet blanket. A black, jewel-encrusted crown sat atop her wild red hair, and her silk black cape fluttered behind her as she walked.

  Eligor was right behind her mistress, and she was wearing the same skimpy gray scalemail bikini she was known for.

  Mammon and Asmodeus both stared in stunned silence as Lilith approached and took a seat at the table.

  “Y-You’re … ” Mammon sputtered.

  “Spit it out, Mammon,” Lilith prodded, “there’s no need for fanfare between allies.”

  “Lilith,” he gasped with wide eyes. “I-I never thought I’d be graced by the presence of the Demon Queen herself!”

  Asmodeus hopped up from his chair, got down on one knee, and bowed to the redhead.

  “It is an honor to be graced by your presence, oh great Demon Queen,” the King of the First Circle announced.

  “Please stand up,” Lilith sighed, “that is most certainly not necessary.”

  Asmodeus obeyed the Demon Queen without protest.

  For the first time since I’d been exposed to the supernatural world, I could see just how powerful Lilith was. These two were some of the most brutal, ruthless beings in the universe, but they were reduced to little more than humble fanboys at the mere sight of the Demon Queen.

  And she was on my side.

  Lilith and Eligor sauntered over to their chairs, took a seat, and then lo
oked over the crowd carefully.

  Welcome, Lilith, Mephisto nodded graciously, thank you for coming on such short notice.

  “Anything for Jacob’s Alliance,” Lilith smiled, “that’s what I’m calling us now. I think it’s quite fitting, don’t you all?”

  I could see on Asmodeus and Mammons’ faces that they weren’t enthralled by having the alliance named after me, but they didn’t dare speak out against the Demon Queen.

  “My mistress and I have traveled far, through treacherous landscapes and hostile territories, to make it to this meeting,” Eligor announced. “What is the meaning of this gathering of Jacob’s Alliance?”

  “Hi, Eligor,” Libidine giggled and waved.

  Eligor glanced over at the Sister of Lust and pursed her lips with confusion. She didn’t want to break her composure in front of her mistress, but she also had been through so much with Libidine and the rest of my succubi that she surely didn’t want ignore her. Finally, the Knight of Hell let a small smile creep up the side of her mouth, and she gave Libidine an acknowledging nod.

  “I’ve called us all here today because I wanted to discuss battle strategies,” I explained as I projected my voice to the group. “Thanks to our allies up on Earth Realm, the Cults of Beelzebub and Gressil have been completely annihilated. At the same time, I know for a fact all of Beelzebub’s Demon Lords are dead, and I’ve never even encountered one of Gressil’s.”

  “That’s because the King of the Sixth Circle is a bloody coward, who’s so far up his own ass he can kiss his own tonsils,” Mammon interjected. “He claims he’s never found a demon ‘worthy’ enough to be a Demon Lord to his oh-so-wonderful domain. Instead, he just goes around hiding behind everyone else’s loyal subjects! I’d be proud of his greediness if I didn’t hate his fucking guts so much.”

  “So, Gressil has no Demon Lords?” I pondered aloud. “That’s gonna make things easier than I thought.”

  What are you planning, my k--er, King Ralston? Mephisto asked through his Freudian slip.

  I placed my palms face-down against the table, leaned in slowly, and looked at all of my friends.

  “Now that all of their supporters and Demon Lords have been wiped out,” I explained, “I want to cut the heads off this three-headed snake once and for all.”