Succubus Lord 11

by Eric Vall

  “Seriously, Megatron,” Todd scoffed, “that’d be like fucking Mankind and the Undertaker teaming up. It just doesn’t happen.”

  “I thought they did team up in the--” I began, but the imp cut me off.

  “Shhhhhh!” he warned. “I’m trying to help you out, bro.”

  “I’ve vouched for Jacob before, and I’ll do it again now,” Raphael proclaimed as he puffed out his chest. “Over the last few years, I’ve gotten to know this man inside and out--”

  “No homo,” Todd added with a stern nod.

  “Uh, right,” the Archangel continued, “I know Jacob Ralston would never turn his back on the Divine. He is a good man. Hasn’t he already proved enough?”

  Martatelli cleared his throat, put down his pen and notepad, and then began to ramble in Italian. He gestured wildly as he spoke, flailing his arms around in every which way imaginable. Even though I couldn’t understand what he was saying, I guessed by his gestures that he was telling the story of how I saved him from his grim fate in the Fifth Circle.

  When the scientist was done, Metatron nodded slowly, and then his sword disappeared with a flash of white light.

  “I’m sorry I doubted you,” he sighed. “It’s just that, knowing your heritage … I have to be cautious, that’s all.”

  “I understand,” I nodded, “we may not always see eye to eye, Metatron, but I’m not your enemy. The Unholy Trio are.”

  “Unholy Trio?” Metatron chuckled. “Is that what you’re calling Baphomet, Gressil, and Beelzebub now?”

  “It was my idea,” Todd interjected. “I fought hard for ‘The Three Stooges,’ but that was a no-go.”

  “What happens if Jacob is right?” Sia spoke up. “What if Lucifer really did send these Tartaruchi to Earth, and not the Unholy Trio?”

  Metatron’s face became stern as he shook his head.

  “If that’s the case … The Exalted One has some decisions to make,” he explained. “No matter who was behind this, it’s a statement that will not be taken lightly. Either way, I fear we might have to prepare for all-out war.”

  “What about us?” Cupiditas questioned. “And our alliance? If you’re focused on investigating this and gearing up for another phase of the Eternal War, does that mean we’re on our own against Beelzebub?”

  “Of course not!” Metatron reassured us. “You are our allies, now and forever. The Exalted One and his servants are committed to helping you in whatever way we possibly can.”

  “Any way?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. “What about helping me take out my father?”

  My words wiped the happy expression right off Metatron’s face, almost as if he were a fucking wooly willie that had just been shaken. His piercing blue eyes were now staring me down intensely as he walked over to my position.

  “You cannot go after Lucifer,” he commanded. “That would be beyond foolish, and next to suicidal. Even if you were to somehow kill him, which you won’t, it would throw off the entire natural order of the universe. The Exalted One is not for that at all.”

  “Then what’s the endgame here?” I retorted. “Isn’t the whole point of all this to kill my father once and for all?”

  “Not in the slightest,” the Archangel admitted. “We want to see his forces defeated, his Demon Kings wiped off the face of the Earth, and his influence next to nonexistent. But the yin cannot exist without the yang.”

  “No offense, Metatron,” I growled, “but that’s total bullshit.”

  “Jacob … ” Superbia warned, but I kept going.

  “This guy is the epitome of all evil in the universe, right?” I prompted. “He’s the one who’s caused suffering for billions and billions of people all throughout human history, right?”

  “Yes,” Metatron stated matter-of-factly.

  “Then why would you want him to stay alive?”

  “Because good cannot exist without evil!” he argued. “If the human race doesn’t have a figure in their lives that represents the darkness, they’ll never choose to go to the light.”

  “I think you guys have a pretty fucked-up view of humanity,” I grumbled and crossed my arms over my chest. “Human beings are perfectly capable of choosing right from wrong.”

  “Jacob,” Metatron sighed as he tried to keep his cool, “if you go after Lucifer, the Exalted One cannot, will not, help you.”

  “I’ve seen what it’s like down in Hell,” I warned. “I’ve seen how chaotic it is now that Azazel is dead and the Demon Kings are turning against each other. Lucifer is looking for his next second in command, and he’s looking hard. Why do you think that is?”

  “Demons are a backstabbing, finicky bunch.” Metatron shrugged.

  “He’s getting ready to make a big move,” I pushed on with my rant, “and I can almost guarantee you this move is being made with the end goal of bringing down the Pearly Gates. Do you want to wait for that to happen, or do you want to do something about it?”

  “Lucifer?” the Archangel scoffed. “Getting into Heaven? Impossible. Back me up on this, Raphael.”

  We both looked over at the dark-haired Archangel, who was staring down at the ground as if he were ashamed of what he was about to say.

  “I agree with Jacob,” he admitted.

  “Raphael … ” Metatron gasped. “You should know better. You--”

  “You weren’t there when Azazel attacked Jacob for the first time,” Raph argued. “You also weren’t there when Uriel tried to kill us all or when Beelzebub wreaked havoc here on Earth. These are unusual circumstances, my friend, and such unusual circumstances call for unusual solutions.”

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” the blond man scoffed. “Martatelli, have you gotten all of this down?”

  The ghost of the Italian scientist looked up from his notebook, nodded his head excitedly, and then held up the page for everyone to see.

  It was covered in incoherent chicken scratch, and what little that could be deciphered was written in broken English.

  “Omnia bona,” the scientist exclaimed happily.

  “Look … ” the Archangel sighed and rubbed his temples in frustration. “Our alliance is rock solid, Jacob. But I cannot condone this idea of offing Lucifer, and I know for a fact the Exalted One will feel the same way. However, I am also quite aware of your resolve, and I know I’m not going to change your mind.”

  “Damn straight.” I nodded.

  “So, I beg of you,” the blond man continued, “not as a strategic ally, but as a friend … don’t try it. I’ve seen how that story ends, and it is never pretty.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I acknowledged. “Besides, you don’t have to worry about us trying anything quite yet. We still have the Unholy Trio to take care of first. There are five whole circles between mine and Lucifer’s, anyway.”

  “Perhaps that is for the better.” He nodded. “I admire your aspirations, Jacob Ralston. Foolish as they may be.”

  “Come on, bro,” Todd shuddered, “don’t make it weird. I’ve only got a handful of ‘no homos’ to give out each day or they stop working.”

  “What is your costume supposed to represent, anyway?” Metatron questioned the imp. “Are you a geriatric hillbilly?”

  Now, it was Raphael’s turn to laugh. The Archangel let out an unusually high-pitched squeak as he doubled over and guffawed loudly.

  Meanwhile, Todd’s face was wide with shock and hurt.

  “I-I’m the Hulkster … ” he mumbled and patted his bald head. “‘Say yer prayers and eat your vitamins’ and all that … this look is one-hundred percent classy, bro.”

  Metatron turned back to me, extended his hand, and we shook.

  “I look forward to our next call, King Ralston,” he mused. “Try not to do anything too reckless before then.”

  “No promises,” I admitted coyly.

  “Goodbye, succubi,” he continued, “goodbye, Eligor. Send Lilith my regards.”

  “No promises,” she parroted sarcastically.

&n
bsp; “As for you, Raphael…” Metatron ordered as he turned to the Archangel, “keep doing what you are doing. I had a group of Divine warriors come visit your base a few weeks ago, and they reported back they had one of the best times of their entire lives.”

  Raphael looked shell shocked and horrified, but he put on a fake smile.

  “Of course, Metatron,” he said with a salute, “the Velvet Lips will remain my base of operations here on Earth, and I shall continue leading Jacob’s Cultists with the assistance of his other generals.”

  “Good,” Metatron nodded, “I will try to secure more alliances with the other angels and Archangels in the meantime. But again, I warn you not to do anything too brash. It’s already hard enough to drum up support for Lucifer’s Nephilim as it is.”

  The Archangel motioned for Martatelli to follow him, and the stocky ghost obeyed. Then Metatron threw out his arms, surrounded himself and Martatelli with the glow of Divine Light, and vanished into thin air.

  “That was a lot to take in,” I noted as I turned back to my friends.

  “Do you really think Lucifer is preparing for war?” Eligor pondered. “Even Lilith hasn’t come to that conclusion yet.”

  “It all just makes too much sense.” I shrugged. “He wants me and Beelzebub to duke it out for a reason, he wants to see the strongest demon win. If he weren’t planning something huge, he would have just chosen a Demon King at random to replace Azazel.”

  “Sometimes I wonder what would have happened had we killed Azazel during your first encounter,” Rapahel sighed. “It would have saved us a lot of complications, that’s for sure.”

  “Complications or not,” Sia noted, “at least we neutralized the Tartaruchi, and nobody got hurt.”

  “Welllll, except all the demons who got strangled, mutilated, and decapitated,” Todd corrected. “And that one whose junk got ripped off, causing him to bleed to death. And the one I killed by combining all five Planeteer rings and summoning Captain Planet. Or the one I--”

  “We get it, Todd,” I laughed. “We fucked ‘em up real good.”

  “Say … ” Raphael perked up. “Speaking of the fallen Tartaruchi, where did you hide all of their bodies, Cupiditas?”

  “Oh, nothing special,” the blonde succubus giggled, “I just flew them around to the different rooftops and left them in the corners.”

  “Should we maybe dispose of them more efficiently?” Raph questioned.

  “Nah,” Todd said with a wave of his hand. “It’s a small town, bro. How often do people actually go up on the roof? By the time they find all these pale Vin Diesel wannabes, they’ll already be buzzard shit.”

  “Then it sounds like we need to head back home,” I announced. “Raph can get back to his, uh, management, and we can start focusing on our next steps.”

  “What are our next steps?” Eligor asked hopefully.

  I turned around and stared off into the Arizona sunset for effect.

  “We’re going to go after Beelzebub’s allies,” I explained, “but not before we find Gamigin and turn him into fucking glue.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” Todd said with a fake sniffle. “My Jakey’s making horse-face jokes now, just like his Uncle Todd.”

  I turned back to my friends and motioned for them to take us back down.

  We were going to find that traitor, and he was going to pay dearly for what he’d done to me and my friends.

  Chapter 12

  After dropping Raphael off at the Velvet Lips, we headed back to our mansion in Phoenix. Even though my cultists had been keeping it up while we were gone, the whole place was dark as we rolled up into the driveway.

  “Looks like nobody’s home,” Superbia observed as we came to a stop in front of the garage.

  “Damn it,” Todd sighed, “I was hoping to see Ollie before we went back down to Hell. I wanna know what crazy-ass fashion choices he’s made since we’ve been gone. Did he finally bite the bullet and get a pair of velcro shoes? Or maybe now that it’s getting colder he’s put away his cargo shorts and is rockin’ the JNCO Jeans. Dear lord … if Oliver shows up in a pair of JNCO Jeans, I can die a happy imp, bro.”

  “We’ll have to wait until next time,” I chuckled as I stepped out of the Jeep. “Jane and Oliver are probably off leading the cultists on some epic mission, mowing down the cults of other Demon Kings like they’re nothing.”

  “Actually … ” Superbia noted through a cough, “while you three were away, Raphael explained Oliver and Jane took the cultists on vacation.”

  “Vacation?” I chuckled as I threw open the front door and we entered into the mansion. “Where on Earth to?”

  “Apparently to a place called the ‘Wisconsin Dells.’” Superbia shrugged.

  I halted in my tracks, turned around, and tried to make sure I heard the madame correctly.

  “The Cult of Ralston has endless funding, we’re within a day’s drive of Vegas and most of Southern California,” I mused, “and they chose to go to Wisconsin? In October?”

  “Maybe he had a sudden craving for cheese curds, bro,” Todd suggested. “Those things are pure, artery-clogging goodness.”

  “That’s what Raphael told me.” Sia shrugged. “Apparently, he wanted to hold their annual orgy in someplace more wholesome this year. Plus, he was over the moon about some sort of railroad museum they have up there, as well as the boat tours that they--”

  Todd cut her off with a loud, obnoxious snoring sound.

  “Leave it to good ‘ol Ollie to make a vacation boring,” the imp snickered.

  “What was that you said earlier?” Cupi prodded. “Different strokes for different folks?”

  “Touché, my bodacious blonde,” Todd nodded, “touché.”

  “Good for them,” I mused as I led everyone to the direction of the garage. “They’ve been endlessly working like crazy for the last few years. They’ve earned it, even if their choice is a little … strange.”

  I opened up the door, stepped out onto the concrete, and took in the smell of motor oil, sawdust, and iron that filled the dual-function workshop and garage. Our red Maserati GT, Stella, was parked against the far wall, and she looked just as shiny and beautiful as the first day we’d stolen her from Robert Quinn. Right next to the luxury sports car sat Todd’s pride and joy, Lola.

  “She’s fucking beautiful, isn’t she, bro?” Todd sniffled as he walked over to the beat-up eighties Volvo. “I’m so fucking happy we found her again. I knew she was a vehicle of the gods.”

  The imp tapped his tiny hand against the hood of the yellow sedan lovingly, and then the entire front bumper of the car fell loose with a loud crash. Todd let out a horrified gasp as he grabbed the fallen hunk of aluminum, lifted it comically over his head, and then desperately tried to put it back into place. The damn thing was nearly double the size of his body, and it fell from his grip a few times before I finally decided to help him out.

  I reached out, surrounded the bumper in green Hellfire, and moved it back into place. Then, once it was back where it belonged, I commanded my silver Hellfire to fuse it to the body of the car.

  “Thanks, bro,” Todd wheezed as he doubled over and put his hands against his knees. “I totally had it, though.”

  “Sure thing, bro,” I chuckled.

  “Why is there such an ugly vehicle in our garage?” Sia said through a disgusted expression. “Was this from one of the cult’s victims? Did they bring it here so it could be hidden away until it’s taken to the junkyard where it belongs?”

  “How dare you, Strawberry Shortcake!” Todd gasped and wrapped his stubby arms around Lola’s tire. “This is the greatest single vehicle in the history of the planet.”

  “It may not look very pleasing,” Cupiditas reminisced, “but we have some fond memories in this vehicle. It was one of the first places where Jacob made love to Libidine and me.”

  “And it was the car that helped us escape Heaven,” Eligor added. “It survived the onslaught of Metatron and his goons, and that m
akes it a winner in my book.”

  “Damn straight.” Todd nodded before he kissed Lola’s tire. “My baby’s back, and she’s not going anywhere. Literally. She ain’t going back down to Hell, and there’s no way in a million years I’m letting Ollie drive her. Nobody touches Lola but moi. And sometimes Jakey. But that’s only when I’m there to watch.”

  “How peculiar,” Sia mused. “At least it’s staying here, in this garage. What kind of gas mileage does a vehicle like this get, anyway? Fifteen per gallon?”

  “Fifteen miles per gallon?” the imp chuckled. “Do I look like a millionaire? Lola gets a whoppin’ ten. And that’s on the highway. If I don’t turn on the air.”

  Superbia looked like she wanted to say something else, but then she just shook her head and went silent.

  It was strange. Even though Sia had been with us for longer than any team member outside of Liby and Cupi, she’d never seen Lola before. The car had been destroyed before she joined our crew, and she wasn’t present during our jailbreak a few months ago.

  As much as the yellow Volvo looked like a piece of shit and ran like a piece of shit, it at least had character.

  “Come on, Todd,” I smirked as I headed toward the back corner of the garage, “Lola will still be here next time we’re back on Earth.”

  “It’s okay, baby,” the imp whispered to his car loudly, “Daddy’s gonna go away for a little while, but I’ll be back. Keep yourself all nice and lubricated while I’m gone, okay?”

  “We should probably leave,” Cupi shuddered, “before this gets even weirder.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  In the back corner of the garage, immediately next to the workbench, sat a large wooden crate covered by a torn-up blue tarp. Though it was hidden away and inconspicuous, the crate contained the most important tool at our disposal.

  Underneath the tattered tarp and the rotting wooden crate sat our own personal portal to Hell.

  “I still don’t get why we gotta hide that thing away,” Todd mumbled as I tore the plastic covering from the cube. “We could totally set up an extra side hustle where we take people down for a tour of your kingdom and shit. I can see it now … ‘For the small price of a thousand dollars, you too can journey into the pits of fire and experience the great despair that probably awaits you after you die. We take cash, credit, and bitcoin.’”