Incubus Ch. 04

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An ounce of submission is worth a pound of cure.
6.8k words
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Part 4 of the 6 part series

Updated 10/16/2022
Created 10/28/2009
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ktmccoll
ktmccoll
382 Followers

Kat disengaged from the sleeping seminary student. He whimpered as he rolled over. Her visit would be dimly remembered as a dream. His sheets would bear testimony to it and he would pray with extra zeal to be delivered from the torments of the flesh. Possibly he would never learn of having been visited by a succubus.

She kissed him on the forehead, nodded to the crucifix over the door, and slipped out of his room.

Kat made her way to Britt's apartment and slipped into it as she had the last three mornings. The girl in the bed looked even more ill than she had the day before.

Kat manoeuvred around the sleeping form, doing what she could to make Britt more comfortable. She felt Damian projecting to Britt, a sudden concentrated wave of hunger and yearning. The hair stood up on the back of her neck. She felt a pang of guilt, as though she were eavesdropping on an intimate conversation. Britt writhed on the bed, tormented, but not a whisper of response returned to Damian.

Kat exited the apartment, furious at her helplessness.

She returned home just as Damian emerged from the forest that bordered the edge of the farm. He had taken to disappearing from sundown to sunrise, as though his absence from the farm would disguise the fact that he was not hunting. With each passing day, he grew fainter and more lethargic.

"You're not eating," Kat said.

"Don't worry, mom," Damian replied with a weak smile as he passed her.

"I do worry," Kat said, just like a mother.

It was infuriating.

Three days after posting the story, Kat received anonymous feedback that consisted of instructions to contact someone through Skype, followed by a name and a local time.

Kat paced the study in the farmhouse, impatiently watching the morning sun creep across the hardwood floor.

At the appointed time, she made the call. Her fingers tapped a nervous tattoo on the oak desk as her call went unanswered. Posting a story on the internet had been a long shot. The chances that another demon would notice it and recognize it for what it was -- a desperate plea for help -- were ridiculously small. Her heart fell as the computer continued to emit monotonous beeps. Even if the story were noticed, what were the chances that another demon would be able to help her? Next to none. She would have given anything for a health handbook for the ailing demon.

Kat nearly jumped from her chair when she heard a voice from her laptop. "Hello?"

"Forgive my delay. I trust I am speaking to the author of the story?"

"Yes you are. Thank you for contacting me so soon," said Kat.

"You tell a fascinating tale, if a little over the top sexually."

"Sorry. I was in a hurry."

"It's nothing to apologize for. I'm quite a fan of exaggerated sexual exploits, for an old lady."

"Would you like to go to video?"

"Yes."

The woman who appeared on Kat's screen was stunningly beautiful and far from old. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, wore her hair in an up-do that was reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn's in Breakfast at Tiffany's. She had porcelain skin and refined features that no rural internet connection could diminish. She wore an elegant strapless black dress and a string of pearls around her neck. It looked as though she were about to attend a premiere at the theater.

"I'm sorry if I'm keeping you from something," said Kat.

"It's of no matter. I suppose introductions are in order. I am Isabel d'Avignon," said the woman, employing the ancient demonic practice of identifying the geographical area of their earliest circle of influence.

D'Avignon, thought Kat with some astonishment. Her story had been caught up in of one of the oldest branches of the family tree.

"I'm honored," said Kat, inclining her head.

Isabel smiled faintly.

"Katarina von Regensburg," Kat then said, reluctantly using the same convention. "But please call me Kat."

"Regensburg. I haven't heard that name for a long time. But of course, you were among those sent to the new world."

"That was a long time ago."

"Yes it was," said Isabel sadly. "But we have more pressing matters to discuss, do we not?"

"I'm afraid so."

"When this is over, I would like to have the opportunity to speak with more leisure. As it is, I have read your tale with interest, Kat."

"Thank you."

"Let me see if I understand then..." Isabel encapsulated the problem quickly and succinctly. Kat added a detail here and there, but Isabel appeared to grasp the issue with surprising intuitiveness.

"It puts me in mind of a similar situation -- one that occurred in Prague in the middle of the nineteenth century," said Isabel.

"As long ago as that? I hadn't heard of it."

"Communication was far more sporadic and difficult then, no? Particularly for those who were banished?"

Kat regarded Isabel and pressed her lips together, refusing to rise to the dig.

"Let me ask you something," continued Isabel. "Are you and the incubus bonded?"

"I wear his ring. Yes."

"Good. That makes matters much easier. May I ask his name?"

"He is Damian... of Pannonia."

Isabel closed her eyes. "Another name from the past. A powerful, ancient branch. Any more names such as these and I shall become maudlin. It is fortunate that you and he are together. I don't think the matter can be resolved without the involvement of another member of his circle."

"What can you tell me of his ailment?"

Concern etched Isabel's fine features. "This girl, I believe, responded to Damian in a unique tone, something that distinguished itself from all the others and proved irresistible to Damian. It is impossible to know. What I suspect, though, is that this girl possesses within her something latently demonic. What has lain dormant has now been awakened under Damian's attentions. It's very rare, but has happened in the past. It would explain the unique power of this girl to feed and ensnare him.

"Our few historical precedents tell us that the demonic will grow within her. She still possesses the human attributes that attracted him, yet he is now also repelled by that which he has awakened. And she, poor thing, is intimately connected with a being with whom no long-term intimacy can be achieved. I'm sorry if I'm sounding a bit like a psychoanalyst, but it appears that we have a paradox. Each is simultaneously attracted and repelled by the other to the exclusion of all else. The paradox has essentially trapped them, precluding any other normal relations. I'm afraid that without intervention, the paradox will strengthen until it ultimately consumes them."

Kat shook her head. "You say that she carries with her the demonic. How can this be?" Kat had her suspicions, but needed confirmation.

"Forgive me. I have the advantage of knowing precedent." Isabel explained herself more fully.

"Oh, God," whispered Kat when Isabel had finished.

Isabel raised an eyebrow. "God cannot help them, but you can. You must act quickly."

Shortly after the conversation with Isabel, Kat debated waking Damian and telling him of what she had learned. Instead, she jumped into her Range Rover and made her way directly to Britt's apartment.

Kat paused at Britt's door and determined that Britt was sleeping despite the fact that it was almost noon. She slipped easily into the apartment and stopped at the doorway to the bedroom. There, on the bed, a sheet wound serpent-like around her naked body, lay Britt in a tight foetal ball. Her pallid skin shone with perspiration and she shivered uncontrollably.

Kat searched the medicine cabinet and returned with some pills and a glass of water. She sat on the edge of the bed and roused Britt enough to get the medicine into her. Britt moaned deliriously. With a cool compress, she wiped Britt down. Britt emanated heat like an oven. Kat ran the cool clother over her forehead and arms. At her chest, Kat stopped when she saw the ring that pierced Britt's right nipple. Damian's ring. She wiped it and the creamy flesh against which it lay, then bent and lightly kissed it. She rinsed the cloth and ran it down the length of Britt's lean torso.

Britt quieted after several minutes and finally fell into a listless sleep.

Kat's thoughts returned to her conversation with Isabel.

"You said that it reminds you of another situation."

Isabel hesitated. "Yes. I stress that it was similar. Unfortunately, there was no happy ending."

"They died?"

"Yes."

"So what's different with this situation?"

"You. You are the difference, Kat."

"I don't understand."

Isabel explained patiently, answering Kat's increasingly agitated questions. Isabel's knowledge of demon lore was encyclopaedic and she was able to piece together a course of treatment that, in theory, would cure both Britt and Damian. "But don't forget," concluded Isabel, "your situation is unprecedented. For the life of me, I can't think of any other approach."

"Nor can I," said Kat. But I'll try, she thought.

"At any rate, I must go. Please keep me apprised of developments. There are so few of us left in the world," she concluded wistfully.

Kat thanked her and broke the connection.

Kat observed the sleeping form of Britt. It was now past four in the afternoon. She had continued her efforts at cooling Britt's overheated body. Despite Britt's weakened state, Kat sensed the inherent strength beneath her beauty and could understand what Damian had seen in her.

Britt stirred and opened an eye. Kat looked closely and observed that Britt's gaze was clear and intelligent, if a bit tired.

"You're awake."

"You must be the gentle hand that caressed me in my sleep," said Britt weakly.

Kat laughed. She lifted Britt's head off the pillow and pressed a cup to her lips. "Drink. You've been very ill."

When her head returned to the pillow, Britt asked, "Do I have you to thank for returning me to the land of the living?"

"Yes."

"You must be my guardian angel."

"I doubt that. I'm Kat."

"Kat? I don't know you." Britt spoke without alarm at the notion of a stranger in her apartment.

Kat hesitated. She could dissemble, but time was of the essence. "I'm Damian's friend. His consort."

Britt turned the word over in her mind. "Consort? Is that some kind of euphemism for lover or wife?"

"No."

The silence lengthened between them. "There's more, isn't there?"

Kat took a deep breath. "You know Damian's true nature, do you not?"

"He's a demon; an incubus. And he knows how to screw up a girl's life."

"Yes to all of it. And I'm a succubus."

Britt closed her eyes and groaned. "Oh great. I seem to be a regular demon magnet."

"Based on the evidence, I have to agree. You are a demon magnet. Unfortunately, because of it, Damian is dying."

Britt's eyes opened wide and her exhaustion fell away. "What? That's impossible. I hear him calling me now, but I never used to hear him before. He used to blame me for calling him. Now I can hear him calling me, but it's as though he's speaking through cotton wool."

"And you never thought it unusual, that you could hear him calling you?" asked Kat.

Britt responded with impatience. "I've been sick and haven't been thinking at all. Besides, after the past few weeks, I wouldn't recognize unusual if it slapped me in the face."

Kat nodded. "You're right -- he is calling you. You shouldn't be able to hear him, though. Not consciously, at least. Unfortunately, his calls aren't reaching anyone else. They're focussed on you and no one else. As a result, he's unable to find sustenance. In short, he's starving."

"What can I do? I can feed him, can't I?"

"No, you can't. Otherwise he'd be here right now and he wouldn't be sick."

"I don't understand," said Britt.

"I'm sorry that I'm burdening you with this when you're unwell, but it's important. You are connected with Damian, and it's certain that your illness and his are connected as well. I suspect that your cures may be connected too."

"But I'm feeling better now," Britt protested.

"You're not cured. I've masked some of your symptoms, but believe me, you're not out of the woods."

Britt seemed to fold in on herself.

"I can help you," said Kat, placing a hand on Britt's shoulder.

Britt shook it off. "You? I think I've had enough help from demons to last me a lifetime."

Kat got up and paced the room. "I noticed that you wear his ring."

Britt sat up in bed. The sheet slipped down, revealing the ring in question. Britt quickly covered herself and crossed her arms protectively over her chest.

"I didn't ask for it."

Kat ignored her. "Even early in your... relationship, Damian saw something in you."

"If he wants it back, he can come and get it." Even as the words left her lips, Britt had to acknowledge that she couldn't bear to lose the ring.

"He was protecting you from others like himself. He was marking you as his."

"As in his property?" asked Britt incredulously, her anger rising.

"As in someone he cares about and wants to protect."

Britt's mouth opened and closed without making a sound.

"Take a shower and pack a bag. We're leaving in twenty minutes," said Kat, exiting the bedroom.

"Did I say I would go with you?"

"No. But you will," said Kat as she closed the door behind her.

* * *

Britt sat in the Range Rover's passenger seat, small and pale. Her hair hung in damp chestnut waves that cascaded to her shoulders. She looked at the passing scenery for a moment. The setting sun cast long shadows across the road. Britt then closed her eyes and allowed her forehead to bump against the window.

"This is crazy," said Britt.

"What is?"

"This. Everything. Last week, I was an obscure grad student writing papers on obscure dead poets, and now I'm embroiled with demon nymphos. I must be nuts."

"Surely you don't doubt who we say we are, do you?"

Britt unconsciously pressed a forearm against the breast on which she wore Damian's ring. "I did, but I don't any more. No, I don't doubt you, and that's what worries me. Any sane person would. If you would have told me a week ago that I would be in the company of demons...." She shook her head again.

Soon they were out of the city, driving north through agricultural land.

Kat felt genuinely sorry for Britt. She had been forced to accept the unthinkable in an impossibly short period of time. Her life as she knew it had been turned upside down. And it was only going to get worse.

A violent fit of trembling wracked Britt's slight frame. Kat looked at her with concern and placed a hand on Britt's lap. She imagined the battle taking place within her. The trembling soon stopped.

"So what's it like, being a succubus?" asked Britt.

"A succubus? It's kind of like being Satan's whore."

Britt started visibly at the Kat's bluntness.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I guess I'm a little stressed." asked Kat. "Actually, Satan's whore isn't quite right, though it does have a nice ring to it." Kat drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Finally, she said, "Satan didn't really create us; you did."

Britt gave her a startled, uncomprehending look.

"When I say you, I mean humanity in general. You created us because we were convenient and more palatable than the alternative. You created us to explain the pregnant, unwed serf. You created us to explain the abused daughter who'd been serially fucked by her drunken father. You created us to assuage the discomfort brought about by blatant sexuality in times of puritanism. Mankind created us to explain all of these things and more. Why would anyone be surprised when Satan put some flesh on the bones and set us loose?"

Britt stared at her in disbelief.

Kat laughed. "Is that so hard to believe? In a world that creates miracles from coincidence and sees Jesus on a piece of toast, is it so hard to believe in us?"

"If you put it that way...."

"Honestly, though, we're no big deal as far as demons go. We're the simple foot soldiers of sin. In the pantheon of demons, we're barely worth a mention. Our teeny capacity to lead folks astray is nothing compared to what humanity is capable of doing all by itself without any help from us."

"So why are you here?"

"That's the rub, isn't it? The meaning of life. To tell you the truth, I think we're still here partly because you still need us, and partly because we amuse our master. He still looks in on us from time to time, you know. He's a bit of a voyeur that way. Of late, of course, he has left us pretty much alone. He's had bigger fish to fry. That being said, if we reduce the number of young people going to church and dilute the sanctity of the confessional by unleashing an endless stream of repeat offenders, he's content."

Britt was about to ask a question when Kat continued. "For some reason, our master has a soft spot for us. He gives us quite a bit of latitude to go beyond our original mandate, if you can call it that. For example, I used to enjoy visiting the father who had raped his daughter and blamed it on us. Couldn't be a loving father, so it had to be an incubus! Imagine his surprise when I'd appear in the flesh like a wrathful avenging demon. I would feed on him, though he wasn't at all to my taste." Kat laughed bitterly. "It certainly taught him about taking master's name in vain. He never again touched any of his daughters though."

"Was your master angry?" asked Britt.

"You'd think that he would be, with us retaliating against sinners, but strangely he wasn't. Perhaps because it built up our cred, instilled fear, added meat to the myth. Perhaps because we did our honest work so well."

"So you did good occasionally, by punishing sinners?" asked Britt.

Kat turned to Britt. "Shh. Not so loud; he might hear." The joking undertone only barely hid the apprehension.

"You make him sound almost sympathetic."

Kat spoke through clenched teeth. "No. He's evil through and through and is capable of ghastly atrocities. But in the same way that the merciful Lord is capable of wrath, our master is capable of unspeakable horror and occasional justice. We're here because he still tolerates us. We can never forget that we are here at his discretion and could end it for us at any time."

They drove in silence for several minutes. Finally, Britt uttered the question that Kat had been expecting all along.

"What are we going to do about Damian?" asked Britt.

Kat hesitated and rejoiced that Britt had used the word 'we'. This was a part of the conversation that she had to handle carefully. "I can give you some of myself so that you can heal him. I will share him and myself with you."

"Share him with me? You can have him. I'll renounce my claim on him."

Kat shook her head. "You know better than that. Demons don't mix with demons. Besides, you are bound to him. You wear his ring."

"I never asked for it."

"Once you met each other, there was no other way."

Britt groaned in frustration. "I hate this. I don't understand what's going on..."

"I feel for you, Britt. In a similar situation, I would feel the same way. I myself don't know all of the details, but I know that we both have to sacrifice part of ourselves for him."

"There's no other option?

"If we don't, he will cease to be, as will you. I'm doing it because I love him."

The statement hung in the air. Kat didn't mean to reveal this much and risk creating an adversarial relationship with the girl she needed as an ally.

"I love him too," said Britt quickly. Kat saw the surprise that registered on Britt's face.

The two women regarded the other. Neither flinched.

"You love him? Really?" prodded Kat. "Or do you love his effect on you? Think carefully on this, because if you join me in saving him, not only will you be bound to him even more closely, but you will also be bound to me."

Britt closed her eyes. "I still don't understand any of this."

Kat remained silent for several minutes, deep in thought. Finally, she asked, "What do you know of your mother?"

ktmccoll
ktmccoll
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