Succubated!

One gargoyle leaped for Yael, talons outstretched, and the succubus lashed out with her weapon. She stabbed the spearhead deep into its neck and used the monster as a fulcrum, swinging herself off the ground and over the heads of her foes. Yael landed next to Una and nearly knocked her over before realizing she was no longer alone.

“What in the baleful asshole of Beelzebub are you doing here, stripling?” the elder demoness growled, spinning to face her ally. “I would have thought you’d be past this part by now!” Another gargoyle pounced towards the two women from atop the stairs, its jaws wide; Yael pivoted, and thrust the shaft of her spear between its teeth and into its mouth, stopping it short.

Una stepped forward and swung Velisatra, slashing open the creature’s stomach. It collapsed, and she finished it with a quick stab, pulling the blade free and letting its body fall to the ground.

“Is that my fucking sword?!” Yael shouted as Una turned to confront the remaining gargoyles. “How the hell did you get my sword?” She lunged forward, impaling another gargoyle on its spear tip, then kicked it hard, knocking the beast back towards the crowd of onlookers, who screamed and scattered.

“I don’t know, okay?” Una already felt on the defensive, and she wasn’t about to explain her situation in the middle of a fight. “It kind of… showed up in my cunt. Can we argue about this after we take these things apart?” She parried a blow from another gargoyle and drove her sword home, killing her opponent. The crowd had dispersed, but the gargoyles showed no signs of retreating.

Yael grunted and skewered the wounded gargoyle as it lay on the ground. “Fine. I was trying to keep these things from following you, but you walked right into them. Have to do this differently.” She began whirling her spear in front of her, then spoke an incantation: “Hoshinashi no yami… nagare!” Darkness flowed down the length of Yael’s staff like oil, pooling at the end and coalescing into a black orb. With a shout, the succubus hurled the sphere at the remaining gargoyles, engulfing them in a coiling river of black smoke.

“Don’t just stand there like a slack-jawed mollisher with a mouthful of dick—up the stairs!” Una scrambled up after Yael, whose nimble hooves had already reached halfway to the upper landing.

“What the fuck was that spell? And what the hell are you wearing?” Una asked. The armored succubus’ tail had changed from smooth and prehensile to a spiked, whip-like appendage with a wickedly barbed tip.

“I learned that spell from the onmyōji, Abe no Seimei,” said Yael. “You couldn’t handle it, kiddo. And this is my war form. Meanwhile, you still look like a girl trying to seduce her high school algebra teacher. Now hurry up, flatfeet!” She vaulted over the top of the railing and sprinted towards the door leading outside. Una ran after her as fast as she could, but her bare soles and human legs had trouble keeping up.

They emerged onto a city street bathed in the light of a full moon. Una looked back towards the subway station entrance and saw a pair of shadowy figures emerge from the staircase and move in their direction. “Dammit,” she muttered, then hurried after Yael, who was already rounding a corner at the end of the block.

“Where are we going?” Una struggled to button her borrowed coat with one hand; it was too large, and she had difficulty running while trying to keep the garment from falling open.

“It literally does not matter; I thought you might have figured that out, with your big thoughtful theology brain. But let’s try there!” said Yael as she pointed to a nearby building. The structure looked as if it had been constructed from a series of cubes stacked haphazardly upon one another. A sign above the door proclaimed it to “The Library.” The words glowed in red neon, as did a smaller sign that read “Open 24/7.”

Una followed Yael as the armored demoness dashed inside the building. She found herself at the circulation desk of an immense library, filled with towering shelves of books and rolling ladders, with a maze of stacks that vanished into the dim distance. A large clock hung from the ceiling above the desk, showing the time as a little past midnight. The air smelled of paper, leather, ink and dust. The place was silent but for the ticking of the clock and a quiet murmur of hushed conversation from somewhere deeper within.

“Stop gawking and bar the door,” said Yael. “I’ll look for your nosy girlfriend.” Una turned back towards the entrance, which had no obvious locks on its swinging doors. Instead, she dragged one of the large, empty bookcases from next to the circulation desk to block the doors. She moved a second bookcase to barricade the other side and reinforced the barrier with some heavy armchairs and two rolling carts. The effort left her winded, but satisfied.

She heard a noise like thunder, followed by several loud thumps as something collided with the doors. Una jumped at the sound. The whole barricade bulged alarmingly, and a crack ran down the center of one door. She took a step backwards and raised her sword defensively.

“Yael!” Her voice echoed through the vast room. “I don’t think this will last long!” Una turned to find the demoness, but Yael had disappeared among the shelves of the library. The banging at the door resumed, and the barricade shifted a half-inch inward.

Una heard the clatter of hoofsteps on marble tiles and turned towards the sound. She saw movement in the stacks beyond the central reading area, followed by a flash of scarlet skin among the shelves. Not knowing what else to do, she sprinted towards the far shelves and saw Yael moving along the aisles, looking for something. Her spear was now strapped to her back, its point swaying towards the ceiling as the demoness’ hips rolled.

“A bunch of furniture doesn’t make much of a shield,” said the junior succubus. “And now we’re trapped in here?”

Yael stopped and put her hands on her hips as she faced her youthful counterpart. Her tail swished impatiently behind her. “This is a mental world, not a material one,” she replied with exaggerated patience. “Ordinary laws of matter don’t apply. You put some work into blocking the entrance, I hope?”

Una nodded, and Yael grinned. “Then we should be fine for a little while; will and effort mean more than mass in a place like this. Now, let’s look for that thirsty scholar of yours.”

Yael seems different, Una thought. Less playful and sleepy than the last few times, more direct, more… militant? She wondered how many wars the ancient succubus had fought, across how many lives.

Yael peered to the left down a dim row of shelves, while Una looked rightward, scanning the rows of books and a small reading table, alone and empty. Suddenly, she felt hands squeezing her ass beneath her overcoat, and a rough-textured tail snaking around her ankle.

“Hmm,” said Yael, “I might actually approve of your taste in bodies. This one is… so pliant. Has that soft, vulnerable quality.” Her voice came from directly behind Una, and she felt warm breath on the back of her neck. The demoness spoke with the tone of a proprietress examining a new piece of merchandise.

The younger succubus whirled in place, bringing Velisatra up between herself and Yael, and the demoness backed away with a knowing smile. “This is my body now, not yours,” she hissed. “Keep your damn fingers off me, or I swear—” Una’s threat trailed off into silence, and she lowered the sword.

Yael laughed, a rich, throaty chuckle. “Oh, honey. It’s not even a body; here it’s just an idea. And I’d say that form is a joint venture by the both of us, wouldn’t you? I can touch it as much as I please.” The older succubus leaned in again.

“Still, you’re right. I suppose it is yours,” she murmured. “Personal property. But in that case, that khopesh you’re holding is mine. I created it, ages ago.” Una felt Yael’s hand slide down her side to clasp her right hand, which held Velisatra. “Do you mind if I have this back, pet?”

Una shook her head. “No, of course not.” She loosened her grip, letting the sword fall to the floor unceremoniously. “Mary Margaret called it a sigilsword?”

“Yes. Forged of my essence and shorn from me, unfairly…” Yael bent over and picked up the sword. As she grasped the hilt, it seemed to twist out of her hand; it clattered to the tile and fell at Una’s feet. The demoness frowned. “Stubborn bitch,” she groused, picking the blade up again.

“What’s going on?” Una asked, as Yael once again dropped the sword. “Why won’t it let you touch it?”

Yael scowled. “I don’t know. Maybe it thinks it’s part of you now.” She waved her hand derisively. “What with you being more real and all? Fine, you deserve each other—just don’t forget who made it.” She stalked back towards the central aisle of the stacks.

Distant crashes still echoed from the direction of the doors, but the barricade seemed to hold. Una kneeled to wrap her fingers around the hilt of the sword. The metal felt warm and familiar in her grasp.

“Aha!” Yael’s voice rang out, triumphant and loud. “Found your slutty angel!” Una hurried towards Yael’s voice. The succubus stood in front of an unmoving figure that seemed to be composed of abstract geometric shapes, hovering in mid-air between two tall shelves.

Una blinked, and on her second look saw that the shapes formed the outlines of a woman, with the color and patterns on their surfaces approximating clothing and skin. From the figure’s left shoulder, a single wing extended in arcs of glowing wedges that vaguely resembled feathers; and where she thought the face should be, Una saw the familiar features of Susan Miller.

“Susan!” Una voiced her surprise as her friend turned slowly towards her, the angles of her body changing as if she were a statue being rotated. “Is she… she’s not really here, is she?” Una reached out to touch her girlfriend’s cheek, but the plane of the face was smooth, without texture or warmth. Her expression remained frozen in a curious pout, her eyes vacant and unblinking.

Yael shrugged. “This is just an imprint, a memory based on your emotional impression of her. Like the ones on the subway, only… more unresponsive, less obnoxious.” The older demon’s voice was tinged with regret, and Una glanced at her, confused by her tone.

Yael’s expression hardened again, her usual sly smirk taking hold. “Never mind that. Who needs memories? That’s my usual motto, having too many of them… but I’m sure one’s here for a reason.” The sounds of creaking wood reached them from the front of the library as Una’s barricade suffered more distress.

“What do you mean?” Una asked. “What does Susan have to do with anything?” Her eyes searched Susan’s face as she waited for a response.

Yael sighed dramatically. “Fine, I’ll just spell it out: you’re trapped in your own mind, probably by whatever nonsense Nezz cooked up for you. The only way out is to shatter whatever mental lock keeps you here, and to find it… well, you have to keep moving forward through layers of symbol and meaning. If you had more experience with metaphorical conflict, you could probably just snap your fingers and reach the end of this dream journey, but I suspect we’ll need something more concrete.”

Yael knocked on Susan’s forehead. “Hello in there; do you have a key or something?”

To Una’s immense surprise, this approach worked after a fashion. The figure of Susan rotated to face Yael and spoke, in a hollow monotone that sounded all too familiar to Una. “Clavicule of passage required.”

Yael rubbed her hands together. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Between the two of us, we’ve incarnated your girlfriend and her angelic infestation as a terminus for the hyperconsciousness manifold.”

Una’s mouth fell open, though she promptly regained her composure. “The what, now? I realize you’re probably not going to explain anything to me, but… you’re remembering a lot more in here than you usually do, right?”

Yael nodded, peering around the sides of the Susan-construct. “We usually meet in dreams or mirrors. This place is a lot closer to… the depths of our shared psyche. I mean, look around.” The succubus gestured at the shelves stretching up into shadow. “What do you think is in all these books? Forgotten facts? Lost ideas?” She paused, frowning thoughtfully. “I don’t even know.”

Una gazed around, momentarily distracted. She noticed for the first time that there seemed to be no end to the shelves, no wall or corner to define where the library itself was. All those lives she’s led… all the memories. Could I access any of these books in the waking world? What could I learn?

Yael was speaking to the abstracted Susan, her tone businesslike. “Clavicule begins: Shaushka-one-eight-four-six-quadru-three-zehnu-yerma-one-one-five-yerma-quodra-talvu-nine.” Yael glanced sideways at Una. “Don’t repeat that, please. Not that it would do much good without my sigil.”

“Clavication identified: Yael.” intoned Susan. “Passage denied.”

“Fuck you very much, dearie,” said Yael with a sneer, but her tone was more resigned than angry. “That leaves you, stripling. You’ll have to—“ A tremendous crash interrupted her, followed shortly by an ear-splitting roar, both from the direction of the entrance.

“Well, fuck,” said the armored succubus. “At least you’re hidden here. I’ll keep them busy while you figure out how the hell to access your girlfriend’s hidden portal, or whatever tawdry metaphor we’re working with.”

Yael pulled the gleaming spear from her back and let her tail uncoil to its full length. The barbed tip twitched like the tongue of a viper tasting the air. She strode towards the clamor, her cloven hooves clicking on the marble tiles.

Una caught Yael’s elbow as she passed. “Wait—how am I supposed to…” She trailed off as she saw the look on her elder’s face: a grim smile touched with sorrow.

“Just tell me one thing before I go fend off your enemies, little nest. How did you get Velisatra back?” Sounds of bookshelves crashing down echoed down the aisle from the far side of the library, followed by the flutter of countless pages. Yael glared down at the sword in Una’s hand.

“I pulled it out of… you know. From between my labia.” Yael nodded impatiently, motioning for her to continue and acting as if it was perfectly ordinary to unsheathe a sword from one’s private parts. “But before that, in a vision—I thought it might be you, but she was enormous. A giant red hand with cats painted on its fingernails. She said she’d return Velisatra to me.”

Yael looked thunderstruck. “Cats? Cats… That void-spawned bitch! I can’t believe…” The sounds of destruction grew closer. “Look, don’t believe everything she tells you. But it seems you have her favor now—good fucking luck with that.” With an angry snarl, Yael tensed her biceps and shoulders. Enormous, glossy red wings unfurled behind her armored shoulders, spreading to fill the space between the stacks.

Una gasped, nearly knocked over by the sudden gust of wind. The ancient demoness glanced back at her younger counterpart. “Give yourself a hand job in my name, kid. Hani-yuo-toa, remember?” She leaped into the air, gave her broad wings a powerful beat, and soared into the shadows above the shelves.

“Here I am, assholes! Come and taste my sting!” Una saw Yael shriek with fury and swoop away. Una stood alone with the frozen figure of Susan.

She looked up at her lover’s face and brought a hand to her smooth cheek. “Help me out, my love. I can’t do this without you.” The curves of Susan’s face remained still beneath the angular planes of the construct.

“Clavicule of passage required,” said the frozen angel who looked just like her girlfriend.

The succubus furrowed her brow. I don’t have any kind of passcode. I’ve only been a demon for months, not millennia. “Una…” she began. “Una-one-two-three-four?”

“Clavicule in vain. Denied.”

What might work? Una-zero-zero-zero-alpha-omega? No… I’m just making things up at this point.

Una heard a cry of anger from above and whirled to see Yael driving her spear forward in a mid-air thrust. The figure soaring opposite her wore brown leather, with a corona of gray hair and feathers fluttering behind her: the harpy, Mary Margaret.

The gray-winged woman dodged out of the way of Yael’s attack and swung a talon-like foot at her attacker. Una heard her screeching voice: “Traitor! I’ll tear the wings off your body, whore of Nineveh!”

Yael parried with her spear, knocking Mary Margaret’s claw out of the way; she then spun the weapon in a blur and drove the butt of the shaft deep into Mary Margaret’s gut, sending her tumbling through the air. The two figures circled each other in a deadly aerial ballet as the harpy-nun recovered.

Una turned away from the spectacle and closed her eyes. She thought of Susan, remembering her body and her scent, her smile and her laugh and the warmth of her arms. She imagined Susan sitting in bed with a book in the morning light, with her glasses perched on the bridge of her petite nose. The memory of the scholar’s voice echoed in her mind.

She leaned in close and whispered at the location where Susan’s ear lay beneath the surface: “Susan… Susan Sunghi. This is your mistress. Open for me.”

Una felt Susan shift slightly under her palm, the surface of the construct growing warmer beneath her fingers. She heard a low hum of energy from within the abstract collection of shapes.

The voice of Susan spoke again, this time sounding less mechanical and monotonous. “Clavicules of passage accepted,” it declared. “Please enter.”

Una stepped closer, wrapping her arms as tightly around the construct’s torso as she was able. She felt the smooth, featureless surface give way to soft flesh, and Susan’s body began to change shape. She felt tender breasts pressed against her own, hips and thighs rounding out under her palms, and a familiar pair of lips brushing against her cheek.

As Yael fought above, Una turned and kissed Susan deeply. Their embrace was warm, and their tongues danced together, but something felt… off. Una felt something light brush her shoulder and opened her eyes to see a pair of brilliant white wings closing around her.

“Susan?” Una asked. She tried to pull away from the figure’s embrace, but the angel’s arms held her tight, far stronger than the true Susan. She craned her neck but could no longer see Yael and Mary Margaret’s duel above the stacks; turning back, she only saw the blank, placid expression of the Susan-construct.

“Let me go!” Una pleaded.

“Transport commences,” the angel-creature said, in a voice like a glacier.

The angelic wings opened, and Susan’s grip loosened, but the library had vanished. Instead, Una and the simulacrum of her lover stood on a high pillar of marble in the center of a vast structure shaped like a smooth and featureless bowl. Beyond its rim, a cloud-strewn sky stretched into the infinite distance, a flat and uniform expanse of featureless gray. The air smelled of nothing, neither dust nor stone nor sweat. There were no sounds save Una’s breathing.

“What—where are we?” She peered down but saw only darkness below the column, swallowing the entire base of the bowl.

The being next to her spoke in a calm, measured voice. “Plirophore impermissible. Cessation.” Una looked up and saw that the false Susan had raised her hand as if in greeting, palm facing outward. The angel’s face remained impassive, and her eyes were empty golden voids.

Una raised her hand in response, unsure of what else to do. The angelic being extended its hand until their palms touched. Then, with one smooth motion, it shoved Una off the column. As she tumbled backwards, she saw Velisatra; the Susan-angel held it in her other hand. Una fell once more, plummeting towards the dark void below.