Chapter Text

Chapter 28: Withhold 

A few minutes later...

Rhys lifted the unconscious figure from the floor for the second time that day, except this time she was a bigger mystery than the first. "Where did you get that thing?" he snapped, his voice a mix of anger and fear.

"My father is a police lieutenant," Jacques said through gritted teeth, her hand still shaking as she held the taser, her eyes never leaving the unconscious succubus slumped in Rhys's arms. "He gave it to me for my sweet sixteen birthday, and I've been going to the shooting range with him every Sunday since the divorce, for self-defense... although I never thought I'd need it for something like THIS."

Rhys slung the succubus's arm over his shoulder and lifted her like a drinking buddy to carry her back to the couch, unable to lift her, not because of her weight but out of pure shame. The amount of exposed skin left by the rip was more compromising this time. It looked like an Easter Island version of a virgin-killing sweater.

"And you brought it here for 'some reason' in particular or what?" He used air quotes around the last two words, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jacques' cheeks darkened as she realized the absurdity of the situation. "I always carry it with me, just in case, like condoms," she muttered, avoiding eye contact. "I mean, you never know when you'll need protection...? Wait, sit her on this chair." She gestured to the wooden seat the two of them used to change light bulbs and clean the tops of furniture like a clumsy ladder.

Rhys obeyed, carefully placing the succubus down. Her head lolled to the side, a peaceful smile playing on her lips, despite the electrical assault she'd just hardened. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of protectiveness, even though she was a creature who had stolen his friend's body.

Jacques took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. "Why did you want me to come, huh?" she asked, her voice shaky, approaching the beige backpack and rummaging through the pockets inside.

Rhys looked at Taylor's face, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and confusion. "I has... We had to tell someone," he murmured. "Someone who might know how to reverse this... this shit."

Jacques's hand paused mid-rummage, her eyes locking onto Rhys's, wide as saucers, almost looking like her horn-rimmed glasses were going to fall off. "And you thought I could do it?!" she asked, incredulous and satirical to the bone, her voice quivering like a leaf in the wind.

Rhys shrugged, his voice tight. "You're the closest thing I have got to an occult expert," he said, his voice betraying a hint of despair. "You told me about witchy-poo books you read and other Wicca things."

Jacques pulled out a pink phosphorescent handcluffs from her backpack and approached the chair with a cautious step. "Okay, let's get these on her," she said, her voice trembling.

Rhys's eyebrows shot up, viewing the tacky handcuffs with a mix of shock, skepticism and alarm. "What are you doing?! Where did you get... those?" He highly doubted that was part of the Madison PD's equipment and wondered what ideas Jacques had about their relationship that would have made her bring such a contraption.

Jacques narrowed his eyes furiously, twisting the pink handcuffs between his fingers. "From work... I told you I worked at a store as a hostess on the weekends." She was silent for a few seconds, then continued, "What I didn't tell you is that it's a store that sells erotic goods and costumes, not just for Halloween, you know."

Rhys couldn't help but snicker at the absurdity of the situation, despite the gravity of it all. "W-what's next, you gonna tell me you've got a lasso of truth in there?" he quipped, trying to ease the tension.

Jacques shot him a glare that could freeze a volcano. “No, I lost that one at Comic-Con last year, damn Wookiees,” she said with a sigh, her attempt at humor falling flat. She stepped closer to the chair and fastened the handcuffs around the succubus’s right wrist, then raised her left arm and bent it at the elbow to fasten the other end, with a click that echoed around the room. The succubus remained clinging to the back of the chair in a twisted, grotesque position, her armpit exposed and her neck tilted like Stephen Hawking.

Rhys felt his heart pound in his chest at a steady pace. He knew he should have panicked just like Jacques had when he saw the succubus transform, but the truth was that ever since he'd accepted that his roommate was trapped within the succubus's seductive exterior, his resilience level had skyrocketed. "So, do you know anything that could help him?" he asked, his voice a whisper that seemed too loud in the tense silence.

Jacques stepped back, her eyes darting from the handcuffs to Taylor's serene face. "I-I need to think," she stammered, her hand moving to her chin in a gesture of deep contemplation. "This isn't really my thing. I'm more into the gothic stuff, Lovecraft, Poe, vampires and ghosts in literature, not abominations like this."

Rhys couldn't argue with that.

Jacques's interest in the occult was mostly theoretical, but much more profuse than his knowledge. He took a short breath before speaking. "Okay," he said, his voice more bittersweet than he would have liked. "What do you know about... about, you know, the witchy stuff?"

Jacques blinked, her hand paused mid-air. "Wicca? Really?" she asked, her voice laced with skepticism. "I'm not exactly an initiate; I had a friend in high school who was. I've just read some books for fun. But being a Goth isn't the same as being a Wiccan, like confusing apples and pears!" she exclaimed irkily.

Heaving a sigh, Rhys leaned against the wall, feeling the coldness of the plaster seep through his shirt. "I'm sorry," he conceded, trying to keep his voice steady. "What about the books you've read? Anything in there that could, I don't know, expel it to... whatever you call it?"

Jacques shook her head exaggeratedly, her eyes flickering over to Taylor's still form and Rhys. "Wicca is more about going against the patriarchy and casting cheap spells; this one is way beyond that... The only thing I know about succubi is from the movies," she admitted, her voice a barely-there whisper.

"Like 'Jennifer's Body' and 'Knights of Badassdom'?" Rhys bantered, trying to keep the mood light, but the gravity of the situation was thick as mud, and his joke sank without a trace.

Jacques's cheeks heated up and reached a deeper shade of brown, and she glared at him. "And there's that movie with Ron Perlman."

"Which movie?" Rhys asked, genuinely confused. "Hellboy?"

"It was just called 'Succubus'..." Jacques trailed off, her eyes glazed over as she remembered the plot of the movie she had watched in a darkened theater with a bowl of popcorn that barely lasted fifteen minutes.

Rhys watched her with a raised eyebrow, as it didn't sound familiar.

Jacques shot him a glare that could cut glass. "This is not the time to judge my terrible taste in cinema," she snapped, her voice shaky with nerves. "But in the movies, succubi are always very dangerous, liars and soul-stealers. She could be playing us both for fools!"

Rhys sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Well, she hasn't stolen Taylor's soul, at least not yet," he said wearily. Suddenly, the succubus's body gave a strange shudder, like when one is jolted awake or when the paddles of a defibrillator discharge its voltage. Rhys and Jacques waited to see if she would wake, but the succubus's breathing was moving her chest up and down in a slow rhythm. Rhys continued more quietly, "And she doesn't seem to have lied to us about her intentions, has she?"

Jacques's eyes were still glued to the succubus. "I guess not," she murmured, "but she's definitely not a clean slate... And she's been trying to flirt with you!"

Rhys shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the warmth creeping up his neck. "Well, she is a... succubus," he said, almost whispering the word like it was a dirty secret. "It's kind of her 'Modus Operandi', right?"

Jacques gripped the taser tightly, her knuckles whitening as she watched the succubus. "If this junk can hold a succubus, imagine what they could do to a cheater," she murmured under her breath, her mind briefly wandering to a few of her past romantic history.

Rhys chuckled nervously, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, if we can't trust the pink handcuffs, we have some duct tape in the kitchen," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "But, Jacques, you're not going to zap her again, are you?"

The succubus stirred a little in the chair, her eyes still closed and drool dripping from the corner of her lip. The scene was so absurd that Jacques couldn't help but feel a bubble of laughter rising in her chest, but she swallowed it down with a grimace.

A wave of pure envy hit her like a battering ram. Even unconscious and bound like that, the succubus's silhouette was a profusion of curves and twists that would attract the gaze of hundreds of men. She had the kind of feminine beauty that outshone other women and made Jacques feel like an overstuffed garbage bag filled with shapeless lumps.

Jacques felt a twinge of guilt for her spiteful thoughts, remembering the way Taylor had looked at her with such desperation, begging for her help before the succubus suddenly took control... when Taylor said her name. "Sulcepnis," she murmured to herself, tasting the eerie syllables on her tongue.

It had to mean something.

The succubus's eyes fluttered open with a jerk that startled them all, and she took in the scene before her with a curious, almost intriguing expression. "Oh, this is the first time I've been knocked out by a taser." She licked her lips and chewed while blinking in confusion.

"It won't be the last if you don't tell us how to get Taylor back," Jacques said, her voice shaking with a mix of fear and anger. She pulled another reload of darts from her backpack, attached it, and pointed the Taser at the succubus, her finger hovering over the trigger. She tossed the backpack back at Rhys's feet. "I have a can of pepper spray. Watch her back. If you see anything resembling a tail, give it a squirt."

The succubus looked at Jacques with a glint of perverse amusement in her eyes. "There are much more fun and pleasurable ways to squirt, Jackie."

Jacques's cheeks burned, like magma red, and she took a step back, her finger tightening on the trigger of the taser. "I already told you to call me Jacques!" she demanded, her voice quavering.

The succubus gave a lazy grin. "Oops, sorry," she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But I can't help it if I find human names so... dull. Why don't you want to be Jackie? Sounds much better than..."

Jacques's grip tightened on the taser. "My surname is Chan," she said through gritted teeth. "The kids laughed at me a lot in elementary school, so I dropped it."

The succubus tilted her head to the side, a lock of hair falling over one eye. "You just dropped it, huh?" she said, a teasing and irreverent lilt to her voice. "Good heavens! You don't know how much I envy you!"

Jacques's eyes narrowed, not quite sure if she was offended or intrigued.

"Look, 'Solenoid'," Rhys interjected, getting the name wrong, trying to keep his voice firm, "you need to tell us how to reverse this. Taylor's got finals next week, and I don't think the university accepts 'demonic possession' as an excused absence."

The succubus, apparently unfazed by the taser and the tension, laughed lightly, a sound like the tinkling of fine china. "Your friend already made me participate in the problem, but I'm afraid it's not going to be as simple as just saying 'Abracadabra' and poof!" She snapped her fingers behind her back, the sound echoing in the room like a gunshot.

Jacques's eyes locked onto the target, and she kept her distance. "I don't believe you, you damn spawn of hell. I didn't understand why you had to possess him and transform him in the first place?" she snarled angrily, the taser aimed straight at the succubus's chest, her grip steady, and her intent clear.

The succubus looked at her with a coy smile. "Oh, I can't just magically appear out of thin air. It's like one of those things from Five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. There's no way I could appear on this material plane out of nowhere!"

"Did she just quote Hermione Granger?!" Jacques thought, and was dumbfounded for a moment. She glanced at Rhys, who also couldn't believe what he was hearing.

The succubus continued, "The only way for me to manifest here is through someone to host me. And your friend," she wink at Rhys, "was the lucky... or unlucky, depending on how you see it, candidate, Jacqueline." she added sarcastically.

Jacques waved the Taser around a bit. "How do we get him out of there?" she asked, her voice as sharp as a scalpel, ignoring the barb that seemed meant to distract her.

The succubus pouted, her full lips forming an exaggerated 'O' of mock innocence. "Well, if you take these handcuffs off, maybe we can talk," she suggested, her eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge.

Rhys took a half step forward, then retreated as Jacques glared at him for that moment of hesitation.

"No way, you fiendish abomination!" Jacques spat, her voice quivering with anger. "You're not fooling anyone with your seductive charms! We're keeping those handcuffs on you so you can't take flight and escape."

The succubus let out a giggle, almost like a burp, which was quite an eerie sound coming from something so beautiful and terrifying. "No, I couldn't do it even if I wanted to, you know-it-all brat," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just like I once told Leo, I'd need more airspace and a lot more thrust to get up and fly. I don't have hollow bones, you know?"

"Leo? Which Leo are you talking about?" Rhys's curiosity piqued as he took a tentative step forward, checking that the tiny canister of pepper spray was still pointed at the succubus from the right side.

"Leonardo Da Vinci, of course, wasn't going to be DiCaprio!" The succubus rolled her eyes dramatically, the pink handcuffs glinting in the dim light of the room.

Jacques's mouth fell open, and she stared at the succubus, her brain trying to process the absurdity of the situation. "You know Leonardo Da Vinci?!" she exclaimed, her grip on the taser faltering slightly.

The succubus smirked, enjoying the shock on Jacques's face. "Well, I didn't 'know' him in the biblical sense of the word," she said, her voice a wave that seemed to ripple through the air. "But I've been around for a while. Longer than your entire species has had the concept of time, actually."

Jacques's mind tried to reconcile the idea of ​​this ancient creature in a modern setting, wearing pink handcuffs and speaking of Leonardo da Vinci with such casual ease. She lowered the taser and pulled out a necklace from her neck, the silver crucifix glinting in the light. It had been a gift from her maternal grandmother from New Orleans, something she always wore, more as a memory than as a form of protection.

The succubus's eyes widened as the cross was brought closer, a hint of fear flitting across her features. "Oh, don't bother with that," she said, her voice a little less playful. "It's not going to work on me."

Jacques, fueled by a mix of anger and despair, raised the crucifix high. "In the name of the Holy Trinity, I command thee to leave this man!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the room, the music heard on another floor was a contrast that broke the scene, Reggaeton and exorcism didn't even match.

The succubus, still bound to the chair with his arms crossed behind his back uncomfortably, rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Oh, please, I've been around since before your 'Holy Trinity' was a glint in some ancient philosopher's eye. That's not going to work," she said, her voice laced with contempt.

Jacques's hand trembled slightly, but his resolve remained firm. She had watched enough horror movies to know that sometimes, even the most ludicrous of artifacts could serve as a powerful deterrent. "It's worth a shot," she murmured, stepping closer and holding the cross in front of the succubus's face and began to recite in Latin. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis..."

"Ha ha ha!" the succubus's laughter filled the room, the sound a dark symphony of amusement, "Are you seriously going to use that rant you got from the 'Supernatural' series? What's next, holy water?" She leaned back in the chair, the wood creaked beneath her, and the handcuffs digging into her skin. "Do you really think that's going to scare me, flat ass?"

Jacques's face flushed a furious shade of red, for the gratuitous insult, her grip on the crucifix tightening until her knuckles turned white. She stepped closer quickly, the silver chain glinting in the light, the crucifix mere inches from the succubus's face, until it slammed into the forehead of the infernal being (or not).

"Ow, ow, ow! Take it away, take it away from me!" the succubus howled in mock agony as Jacques held the silver crucifix against her hair, the metal cold and unyielding.

"It works!" Jacques exclaimed, her voice a mix of desperation and hope as she pushed the silver crucifix harder.

"No! You piece of shit!" the succubus replied with tears in her eyes and a contrite grimace. "You got that thing caught in my bangs! Can't you see?"

Jacques's hand jerked back, the silver crucifix clattering against the palm of her hand. Some of the succubus's hair was indeed stuck to the cross, and she was grimacing in pain. Jacques hesitated for a second, seeing her so... human. "I'm sorry..." she stuttered, her confidence wavering, but arrogance muted her apology.

"What do you all have against my hair?!" the succubus sobbed, focusing on Rhys, her eyes red with pain and tears. "First T... your friend, completely wrecks it by cutting it with a craft knife, and now this repressed sadist of yours for a girlfriend wants to rip it out of my scalp!"

To be continued… 

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