Succubus Hunter

by Daniel Pierce

  In essence, I was not at my best.

  Still, there was no time to sit back and wait to recover. If the first encounter had taught us anything, it was that time was very limited if we were going to have any chance at all at saving these women.

  Lyanne and I entered the firehouse through a broken window on the side of the building while Eve stayed outside to play lookout. Inside was pitch black except for the red light provided by a few LED signs above. It was time for me to try out one of the expensive gadgets Lyanne had purchased for me.

  The smart glasses were still in development, and only those with connections or a lot of money were being allowed to test them. Lyanne had both. By using its camera and syncing up with an app on my phone, the glasses were able to display something close to a night-vision view of the room. It wasn't perfect, though everything was somewhat distorted, and if the app lagged my vision was thrown back into darkness. But it was a far sight better than stumbling through the dark, or walking around with the ridiculously bulky night-vision goggles that Lyanne had purchased for me.

  The building looked like the firefighters who had worked here had one day just left in the middle of one of their shifts and never returned. Tools lined racks on the walls, uniforms still hung on hooks near the door, and a pinboard by the stairway had bulletins posted about new safety regulations and shift changes. The fact that this place hadn't been looted over the years was a testament that those who live nearby must be aware, on some subconscious level, that something was not right about this place.

  I couldn't see anyone from the main floor, but I knew they were there. My danger-instinct had that fuzzy feeling that the Sister of Pain had produced, just as grainy and unclear. At least one of them was here, anyway. It was impossible to focus on the image enough to get a number, or figure out exactly where they were. They could be watching me right now and I wouldn’t know.

  “Split up, but don't go far,” I whispered to Lyanne. “You know how to find me if you see anything.”

  Lyanne's night-vision was even better than mine with the aid of the glasses, and she could move as silently as a ghost when she wanted, so I wasn't too worried about her as we spread out across the main floor looking for any sign of the Sister or the victims. I crept up the center stairway to a landing on the second story, and there, hidden in an alcove that must have once been used for storage of some kind, were the prisoners. One was still chained to the wall where I had seen her in the mirror. The other now lay flat on her stomach, her face pressed against the floor. I couldn't be sure from first glance if she was still alive.

  Too much of my attention was on the two Sisters of Pain who stood at either end of the room, their bodies pressed flat against the wall. After the struggle I’d had with one of them, I was not liking my odds two-on-on.

  Their posture was strange, though. The Sisters of Pain were bizarre in every way regardless of how they were standing, but I couldn't figure out why they were pressing themselves against the wall like they were until my app lagged and I was momentarily thrown into darkness. That was when I realized the red LED's above just barely illuminated the two women, and in their dark robes the Sisters were completely invisible against the wall. Only when the app resumed could I see them again.

  They don't realize I can see them.

  I had an idea based on the surge of hope that fizzed in my blood. The plan was one that would fail right away if they realized I knew where they were, but if it worked it might help even the odds. As far as bad ideas went, this was one of my better ones.

  Doing my best to pretend I was not aware of the Sisters, I stepped toward the women. I knelt down next to the woman on the floor and checked her pulse. She was alive, if just barely. The chained-up woman was looking at me with wide eyes.

  I tried to control my breathing as I spoke to not give any indication I knew of the danger just behind me. “You're going to live. I’m here to help.”

  The Sisters took the bait. The one behind me approached slowly, confident in her stealth, ready to take me by surprise.

  I got the surprise instead, spinning suddenly and lashing out with the Night Flail. For once, my plan worked, and the flail impacted perfectly at the right spot on the Sister's chest. She screamed in defiance, a haunting sound like a banshee's cry, but could do nothing as the weapon pierced into her and ended her cursed existence with its merciless touch.

  Before she had even begun turning to ash, I pulled the flail free to swing it overhead at the other Sister, but she was too fast for me. A force like a freight train hit me as the remaining creature tackled me from the side, and we went flying together down the stairs in a desperate tumble. I felt the first impact on the back of my head and my glasses were jolted off my face, making the rest of my fall in complete darkness. The Sister held me in her vice-like grip as we tumbled together down the rest of the steps. I couldn't see her but I could feel her cold body press against mine, could feel the impact when she took the brunt of a step, and could feel her legs stretching to wrap around mine and lock me in an unbreakable hold.

  For my part, it was all I could do to maintain consciousness as I was battered by the metal steps. Another knock to the back of my head sent my mind spinning, then an impact on my wounded shoulder sent such sharp spikes of pain through me that I thought I would faint. For the final step, I landed on my face and my mouth became full of the coppery taste of blood, spooling out in strings as I shouted in anger and agony.

  We hit the bottom with the Sister exerting her powerful force atop me. She brought her fist down like a hammer on my chest and I felt my ribs creak under the pressure, only by some miracle resisting being broken. I wouldn't get so lucky a second time. I reached up blindly in the darkness, looking to grab hold of something to stop her, and felt the edge of her mask. Perfect.

  She didn’t appreciate that because she let out a howl of anger and leapt off of me. Before I could rejoice and get back on my feet, a kick to my side sent me rolling. I came to rest under one of the LED's and watched powerlessly as the red-outlined figure brought her foot down on my face. My hands reached out to try and push her off, but I might as well have been trying to uproot a tree stump. She gradually increased the pressure on my head until I was sure it was about to burst.

  “Hey!” Lyanne's voice called out in the darkness. “Only I'm allowed that kind of play with him!”

  The Sister was blasted away from me by a jet of high-pressure water. Lyanne stepped into view holding a firefighting hose, keeping the nuzzle directly pointed at the creature. The constant jet of water was enough to keep the Sister forced against the wall, despite her strength. The fact that Lyanne could even hold that hose straight with that much power coming out of it was a testament to her own power.

  Now I had to do my part. Getting up ranked among the greatest challenges of my life. A wave of nausea hit me and I gently picked myself from the ground. Trying to breathe too deep with my sore chest led to a coughing fit, but eventually I forced the world to stop spinning around me and got back to my feet, feeling the world come to a stop, but just barely.

  And none too soon. The Sister was fighting her way forward through the water jet, taking slow step after slow step through the stream toward Lyanne, inexorable as gravity. Lyanne didn't waver from her position, but she must have known that the hose wouldn't stall her for much longer.

  I got the Night Flail ready for a strike, but it would just be blown away by the water stream if I tried to hit her now. This had to be timed just right.

  “Lyanne!”

  Like clockwork, Lyanne turned off the hose just as I let the flail fly. A combination of luck, skill, and the Night Flail's own mind allowed me to hit her right where I needed. The Sister spasmed as the flail pierced her chest, then she dropped to her knees as her body began to disintegrate.

  Lyanne held up the hose proudly. “What would you do without me?”

  I wanted to give her a playful response, like, “Find someone better with a hose,” our usual back-and-forth, but
my jaw was killing me so I just gave her a nod of appreciation.

  We retrieved Eve from outside and brought her up to the two women held prisoner on the second floor. They were weak, but that seemed to be more from dehydration than the curse, and they recovered some of their strength after drinking some water. Eve went to work on their wounds and confirmed after a few minutes that they were likely to survive, though they were in desperate need a hospital. The women were clearly shell-shocked, and at first resisted letting Eve even get close to them, but they soon relaxed around her and let her help them.

  “The Charm effect again?” Lyanne wondered aloud.

  Through the haze of my pain I realized what she’d said was important. “She's using magic on these women? I thought I’d removed all of her curse.”

  “I don’t believe she is even doing it intentionally. We certainly haven’t seen her throwing that power around. Perhaps it is because she is helping people? When she feels she is doing good, that helps her tap into what tiny reserves of her power are still within her.”

  It was a hell of a change, if true. From Succubi who used her power to hunt and drain men, to a woman who could Charm for the purposes of good. We would have to observe her more in the future, but the idea seemed solid. It was a tool we could use to our benefit, and I added it to the long list of abilities Lyanne had shown me in a short time.

  We called an ambulance, and as we waited for it to arrive, I went back downstairs to see if I could find something cold to put on my face. It was a long shot, but maybe the freezer in the break room still worked and had some ice in it, though at this point I'd settle for tossing a frozen TV-dinner on my swollen eye.

  As I reached the bottom of the steps, I sensed something, a presence that had been masked before by the Sisters but was clear now that they were gone. It was probably foolish to go alone right after I'd been beaten half to death, but sometimes I can be a fool. I let myself be drawn to it, past the break room, through the locker rooms, and into the showers. There, floating above ancient soap scum and rusty piping, was another portal.

  This one was already mostly closed, and even if I could have gotten the Night Flail through fast enough to keep it open, I was in no condition for another fight. But there was something about this one, a cold presence that was at once familiar and strange to me.

  I realized I was being watched through the portal, and only one person could be on the other side: Tandi Goren.

  I smirked, doing my best to hide the pain of my injuries. And, in fact, they did seem to hurt less now. Perhaps it was the satisfaction that I was feeling thinking of how Tandi's smug face must look right now. She had sent me these locations to taunt me, to lure me into a trap. But now three of her Sisters of Pain were dead and I was still here. I was still coming for her, and I wouldn’t stop until I wrapped the Night Flail around her throat.

  I hoped she was scared—I hoped she felt a sliver of the fear those women had known, having their spirits stripped away under the pain of inhuman torture. I hoped that she knew, that for all her wealth, all her plotting, all her power, it meant nothing when I existed in this world just to stop her.

  I spoke my mind to the voyeur. “I didn’t think I had a purpose when I was all fucked up in the hospital, but seeing this scene, I do. It’s here, doing this. Stopping you. Come see me sometime, Tandi,” I said, as the portal closed with a petulant whuff. The scent of brimstone hung in the air, and I knew she understood our conversation was far from over.

  Two down. One to go.

  14

  The last location was the most surprising-- the library I had visited upon my arrival in New York City. Eve recognized it as the library's hidden occult room, a sort of basement clubhouse where those with an interest in the arcane gathered. Those with magical curiosity and zero talent were easy targets for the kinds of deals Tandi offered, power in exchange for servitude, and one of Eve's duties had been to occasionally check in and scout potential targets. It seemed the rumors I had heard that led me to the library in the first place had some truth to them after all.

  I needed to get some rest before going up against The Sisters of Pain. Not that I wanted to; if it was up to me, I would have rushed straight to the next battle from the firehouse. Lyanne and Eve promised to hold me down and tie me to the bed if I tried, and after considering my wounds, my desire for combat wavered.

  To their credit, once I hit the bed in our hotel room in the city, I realized how right they were. I was so exhausted my eyes shut the moment my face touched the pillow, despite the various aches and pains running all over my body.

  The morning was not kind to me. First to hit me was dizziness and nausea. My head felt like I had spent the night pounding tequila shots, but quick probing with my hand on the back of my head revealed several tender lumps that were the true culprits. The front wasn't too much better, as when I stumbled to the bathroom mirror I saw my face was purple and swollen all over, lurid bruises that were just now blooming into a rainbow of violence on my skin. I looked, quite appropriately, like a man that had fallen down a set of stairs. But at least my head was distracting me from the aches of my body.

  “A face only a mother could love.” Lyanne sidled up behind me in the mirror and put her arms around my back. “But I think I could grow to get used to it. In time.”

  I probed gently at the bridge of my nose, which was tender but thankfully seemed unbroken. “I accept your kind offer. You know, tough times build character. Just wait, once all the swelling goes down, I'll be more handsome than ever.”

  Lyanne delicately put her hand on my cheek. “Not such a high bar.”

  A few painkillers helped with the aches, and some hot tea helped with the nausea. With a shower and a fresh outfit, I almost felt human again. I only hoped the delay had not cost us our window.

  We arrived at the library a little after noon and found the entrance to the basement from the street had been sealed. Eve knew that there should be some way down to it from the main floor of the building but wasn’t quite sure where. Our only option, other than sneaking around in employee-only areas and hoping to avoid notice, was to ask someone who worked there.

  As luck would have it, I recognized the man behind the counter. The bored expression that announced to the world that he didn't want to be there, the trail of smoke that seemed intentionally drawn to the sign forbidding its presence, and the look of discontent when I approached at the thought of being made to do his job. In a way, the librarian's unchanged ways were a comfort, an anchor that steadied a rapidly changing world.

  I walked up to the counter with my friendliest smile. “Hey, it's been a while. You remember me? I'm the guy who asked you for information on the supernatural creatures of New York.”

  His face didn't show any recognition, though it was possible he just didn't want to waste the energy moving his face muscles. “Are you the one who was hunting werewolves?”

  “No, Succubi. Wait, are there werewolves in New York?”

  “Probably.”

  Lyanne pushed me aside as she came up to the counter. “Hello, handsome. I am going to need you to take us to your secret basement occult club now.”

  You would think he had been asked for directions to the bathroom for how little he seemed to care. “The secret what now?”

  The former Succubus looked at the librarian with a focus that I knew meant she was trying to bring him under her Charm. “Come on, killer, you know what I mean. I would be most grateful if you showed us. You will be rewarded generously.”

  The extent of the librarian's reaction was a raised eyebrow. “Fifty bucks.”

  Lyanne's face looked like she had just bitten into something sour. “Fifty bucks?”

  He looked to me. “Each. And then I'll show you.”

  She muttered something under her breath while reaching into her pocket and pulling out a hundred-dollar bill. The librarian quickly snatched the bill from her hand, pocketed it, then turned on his heels and started speed walking deeper into the library,
not even bothering to tell us to follow. Lyanne and I had to rush around the counter to catch up with him.

  “Losing your touch?” I jokingly mocked Lyanne.

  She did not find it funny. “His sloth is so great it overpowered his lust. Sometimes, the people of New York scare me more than the monsters.”

  The librarian led us past the “History” section, through a door with an “Employees Only” sign on the front, and to a backroom hidden behind a cart of beaten-up pulp romance books. A narrow staircase leading to plain wooden door was our destination.

  Our guide had no intention of going down with us. “I don't know what you freaks get up to down there, and really, I don't want to know. Just keep my name out of it.”

  I waved smoke out of my face. “I don't even know your name.”

  He turned and started walking away. “Good.”

  Slowly descending the staircase, I honed my senses on the instincts I had come to rely on so much. Static, like with the Sisters of Pain at the last two locations. They were close.

  Adrenaline kicked in, easing the pain in my head and the aches of my body. The Night Flail came to me without my calling it, and I could feel its eagerness mix with my own. The last two fights had been tough, and if it hadn't been for Lyanne each could have been my end. I knew not to underestimate my opponents here, but the comforting weight of the flail gave me a mild wave of confidence. I set it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

  With a gentle push the door creaked open, revealing a wide, octagonal room, the size of which must have put it underneath every building on the block. Dozens of candle sconces along the walls illuminated the basement with flickering light. The walls were damp, possibly from leaks from the steam pipes that ran along the north and east sides and up to the buildings above ground. Piles of thick books with blank covers sat in discordant piles at opposite ends of thick, red circle that had been painted on the ground.

  In the center of the circle, directly in front of me, stood the Sister of Pain. Her posture was different from the others, slouched and compressed like her robes were too tight on her. She also wasn't still, instead wriggling at the shoulders and knees in what I took for excitement. There was no denying that blank, ivory mask, though.