Chapter 54: Composure

"I bet you liked that too, didn't you?"

Music

You're rapidly dragged away. The back of the stage is so dark you can scarcely see where you're going, but you make a number of sharp turns down increasingly narrow corridors. Muffled cheers, cries, whistles, and the pounding music all begin to fade.

There is no doubt a labyrinth backstage. Your headache subsides slightly, though the force with which Remigius is now pushing you forward with is enough to have your pulse racing again.

After countless minutes of stumbling in the dark, you choke out, "where are you taking me—"

"I'll find a better use for your mouth if you don't stop talking. We're nearly there."

The demon kicks a door ahead of her wide open. Light floods into the narrow hallways you've been pulled through. You wrest free of Remigius' grip for a moment, and turn to look behind you. Red walls made entirely of flesh are blood slick over hundreds of passageways. Countless doors are labeled only with single identifying numbers on each. The door before you has no marker. There is absolutely no indication of the way you came.

"Get in."

You're dragged into the room and practically thrown aside. The door slams shut of its own accord. You keep your footing— delighted to have more weight to you— but you're instantly on edge from tensing again.

The pain coursing through your shoulder is blinding, but you still manage to readjust your holy symbol and straighten what's left of your shirt.

Remigius' form is casting a golden glow around you both, but she makes a smooth gesture towards several dozen candles with her wrists. A spell is completed with a jerk upwards of only one of her hands. Candlelight bursts forth.

You're less impressed by her sorcerery, and more by your spacious surroundings. A large chandelier hangs from the ceiling, twinkling in gold and red diamonds. Everything else is red. Polished walls. Thick furs on a wooden floor. Countless indecent toys. Bottles of perfume. A colossal bar, stretching along the entire length of the far wall. The enormous, curtained, and altogether inviting bed in the center of the room is in an even deeper shade of crimson. It instantly reminds you of the blood drying on your hands, back, and shoulders.

You snap your eyes back to the succubus. She makes a scene out of slinking over to the bar across from you. It's impossible to not follow her body, her long and lithe legs, her hips, her perfect waist and back—

Your eyes meet.

You start to unfasten your shirt.

"Oh, Daddy! I didn't know you were so eager—" There's a look in her eyes that you're used to only seeing in the church.

It's worship.

"I've seen that look before, Remigius."

The succubus entirely forgets about the liquor. As you rid yourself of your tattered shirt, her eyes drink in your shaky movements instead. "I've heard entirely to the contrary~"

It's hard to hide your distaste. "That's not what I meant. I know it must be difficult to speak of it, Remigius, but—" The first attempts to inspect and treat your wounds cut your words short.

The scrutiny on you wouldn't be welcome in even the best of circumstances, but having put on so much weight in such a short span of time, your body scarcely looks or feels like it's your own. Your body is so ravaged with pain that it's proving difficult to administer any aid without making matters worse, and your trembling only puts the demon more on edge.

Remigius slinks back over and throws herself over a nearby lounge chair. At least four more of them are placed in the nearby vicinity— no doubt for posing, as the succubus is making a scene of herself. "I'd like to help your nerves, but you seem so obsessed with keeping your hands to yourself."

"It's not nerves—"

"I thought you weren't a liar?"

"I'm not. I know that you want to help me just as much as I want to help you." There is no attempt at grace as you remain standing and start cleaning the burns. Every motion is still agonizing. Heat floods back into your face far too quickly for your liking.

The succubus is taking the bait well. Her taunting and teasing is completely silenced as you obviously draw a fair amount of pleasure from the work. Making a salve for your fractures and bruises is accomplished readily enough with a nearby counter, and getting bandages properly wrapped around you is simple enough.

It's difficult, but you try to maintain your composure. To remember yourself, your tenets, and your mission. "You were pious, weren't you? A devotee not just to Mercy. You were taken by Flesh too, weren't you—?" You strap on the last of the salve-coated bandages with shaking hands.

Remigius stalks over, wraps her white-gold arms around your shoulders, and leans in so closely that you can feel the heat radiating off of her. Her voice has a sickeningly sweet, cloying radiance to it. The similarity to Celegwen's light speech and Mercy's warmth is a terrible blend of comfort, longing and frustration that's driving you insane. "We're two sides of the same coin, Daddy. I'm not so bad, if you give me what I want. And I do know you'll give me what I want."

She digs her arm into your damaged shoulder— failing to draw out a cry. The pressure persists, along with a few fingertips that incessantly run over your chest.

Though your heart is in your throat, you take a deep breath, swallow hard, and steel yourself against the cracking bone and rekindled ecstasy. "What do you want, Remigius?"

She leans in dangerously close, and closes her eyes for a blessed moment.

She looks back to you, letting up slightly on your shoulder. Her golden lips part. Her words are so soft, and lean so hard into Mercy that you almost mistake the sound for the Goddess Herself.

"I want you to hold me. Just hold me, for now. Please."

"As long as this doesn't go any further, Remigius."

Your words of caution are immediately met with complete relief from the pressure on your shoulder. You're seized by the urge to rub at the site of the wound— not to alleviate the pain, but to pull more out.

I've had my night of sin. I've had a few days of it now, in fact— but I have to remember myself. I may not hear it often enough in these ruins, but I'm the Father of the Church of Mercy. Not a demon, or a lunatic, or even a sinner.

It's proving impossible to slow your pulse or to ease your heavy breathing. The succubus won't stop staring at you, and the way that her eyes are utterly devouring your form has you so on edge that it takes far longer than it should.

You persevere, close your own eyes for a moment, and shield the green from her unrelenting body.

I'm a man of the cloth: pious, and utterly devoted to the Gods.

My reverence for them is without equal. I'm sure of it.

The Gods know of my devotion.

They know that I won't fall from their path so easily.

Ultimately, I'm here to show this demon Mercy.

I won't stray from Her light.

You check yourself, knitting your hands together over your holy symbol.

"Hey, Daddy? Now really isn't the time or the place. You can put your hands on something much better than that little trinket 'round your neck, you know? I'm right here." The succubus gently places a hand underneath your chin to command your full attention. Every fiber of your being is expecting more pain and immediate abuse. You almost offer her a slight smile as she stops her motions.

As gently as you're able, you try take her into your arms. "Come here. It's okay."

Before you can properly hold her, the succubus sharply pulls away. The sudden, violent motion tugs hard at your shoulders and back. You clench your right fist— trying to not aggravate your wounds any further— and bite hard on the knuckle to try and muffle your groan.

"Don't be such a fucking tease, I know you like it. Come here~"

The succubus twirls, falls, and lands on the furthest lounge chair. She reclines, and pats on the red cushion. Its tall back and wide seat should be enough to barely accommodate both of you.

With a wince, you walk over to Remigius, and let out a cry as the demon pulls you down onto her.

"Daddy—!"

"Nnn— s-stop, Remigius." You immediately pull back (trying to keep quiet) and sit as upright, professionally, and clinically as you can. "S-sit up."

The succubus pouts intensely, and punches you as firmly as she can manage on the arm that was just lacerated. The strike doesn't jostle your excellent bandage work, but you can't help but pull back with a groan.

With no small measure of agony, you fight through the pain, and successfully manage to put your abused arms around hers. She stays in your embrace, but starts squeezing your stomach and hips. You thought the flush across your face couldn't be any more intense, but here you are.

"S-stop it."

Her head is placed on your good shoulder. She scoots her exposed body flush against your own, and shows no sign of stopping. "Make me."

"I'm trying to help you, Remigius. Don't abuse my courtesy."

"It's this or I break your fucking shoulder, Dick."

"I've been through worse. Do what you need to." You pull back just enough to threaten the succubus with moving away from her. "I mean it. No more."

She draws you in again. Your bodies press tightly against one another as she settles her arms around your waist— and calms down (physically, at least) almost immediately. "I have half a mind to kill you now, you know." She's actually minding her hands, and lays her head deeply against your shoulder. "It's pretty obvious that you've been through worse. How the fuck else do you think I know you can take it?"

The heat in your face and body robs you of so much coherency that you merely sit with the succubus for a few moments in silence. The gentle radiance of her skin and hair is so captivating that you scarcely want to take your eyes off of her. Her form is so still that you're acutely aware of every slight tremor in your hands and back, your mutual warmth, and the way that her hands are literally itching to caress. You're floored by how much restraint this demon of Flesh has, and try distracting her. "More than the physical, Remigius."

"That's pretty obvious, too, Daddy."

"...is it, really?"

"I couldn't say what exactly, but I have my guesses. Word gets around, too." Viciousness creeps back into her voice. "You won't come inside me? I sure as shit can tell a few demons have been in you since you've come down here." She's leaning her head against yours, her arms tighten around your gut, and her bosom pushes itself roughly against your chest. You move to pull away, but she holds you closer still. "Demons in your head, demons in your body! You'll let Tsilorm ravage your mind, you'll let Yech ravage your vessel— so why not me?"

"I never asked the shrouded— I mean, Tsilorm— to do anything. He wanted to break me, and I killed him for it, Remigius."

The succubus laughs softly, and holds you closer still. "I know. He had it coming. I bet you liked that too, didn't you?"

"No— no. I didn't. I hated it, and I'd appreciate it if you would stop saying his name. It's been a few weeks, but I'm still trying to deal with it—"

"Like this?" She briefly pulls away, and pokes at your soft stomach.

"Yes. Like this. And stop that. Yech said that he was trying to help me, but I know that he was also trying to help you, too." You ignore the urge to swat away her hands. "You could learn a lot from him, Remigius."

She's already back in your arms again. "That's not a good enough fucking answer, Daddy. You're trying to cheat the fucking system, aren't you?"

You really do not like her tone of voice. There's threat in it of something and you can't tell what, but there's the sound of a chain, and you move to pull away—

The succubus holds you as tightly as she likely can against her form, and clasps something extremely heavy around your left wrist. It's so snug that you can't fathom slipping out of it, and she pulls down hard on your wrist. "Let me remind you of what you're supposed to be preaching~!"

It aggravates the sting in your shoulder, instantly pulling a scream and blossoming pain out from you. You've felt it a few times before in the church of Mercy. The irony is not lost on you.

It's a restraint. A very substantial manacle, to be precise.

You try not to panic. The weight of the keys in your pocket are some measure of comfort. You're not a little boy struggling to invoke anymore— whether you want to or not. You no longer need your hands to call upon Mercy. If it comes down to it, you don't need to speak, either.

The succubus seems to be gauging your response, rather than immediately trying to overpower you.

The manacle is heavy enough to constantly pull at the fracture in your shoulder, and you can feel the damage worsening by the second. The pain is becoming cold in its intensity, but you force your nerves down, and command yourself to keep your composure. Your voice is level. Your pulse could not be higher. "What's the meaning of this?"

Remigius doesn't answer immediately. She's preoccupied with whatever she's twisting behind your back.

She effortlessly twists both arms behind your back.

The chain sounds as heavy as the restraint around your wrist.

Both restraints around your wrists.

Her delight is palpable. "The second is much easier than the first, if you know what you're doing!"

You hazard an excruciating glance over your shoulder. The gold manacles are clean, and may have been made specifically for you. They're connected to an impossibly thick chain leading straight to the ground. It's so much heavier than the metal around your wrist that you struggle to not be pulled to the floor— and have to wonder if the gold around your wrist is purely for show. It shouldn't be able to support such significant bonds.

Don't panic.

"Remigius."

She's keeping out of sight, trying to play into your fear.

You try to lean back, to ease off on some of the pressure. Without daring to shrug or aggravate your wounds any further, you try nodding slightly to the demon. "It's as I said before: you aren't going to scare me so easily. I don't need my hands to call upon Mercy—"

"I'm into just about everything, but don't make me want to kill you that quickly, Daddy. Besides, are you not having fun?"

"That wasn't a threat. I have no intention of fighting you, and I don't particularly care to invoke Her. Not given my current position." Your voice drops to a murmur. "Especially given what you've put me through this evening."

"You've loved every second of me. Don't lie to yourself, Daddy. You're terrible at it."

You take a long pause. It's getting a lot harder to keep your voice level, and your pain is excruciating.

Gesturing to your pants with a succubi's full attention on you is out of the question.

You force yourself to grit out, "I want to hate you, Remigius, but I would— I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying myself. I'm trying to be level with you. I really do want to help. Don't— don't go digging around for it, but one of your servants gave me two key—"

Your words are cut short as the succubus jumps back onto your lap ("Mercy—") and places her hands to your hips. "Where are they?"

"I told you, no more, Remigius—"

"I'll flay what's left of your clothes and everything underneath it with my bare fucking teeth if you don't tell me this fucking instant!"

The threat scarcely intimidates you. You wait.

Your silence boils the demon's blood. She actually does bare her teeth, and starts to lean down. You interrupt her outburst the moment she starts to bite at your belt.

"This is extremely unnecessary. They're in the left pocket. My left. Remigius may the Goddess take Mercy on you if you don't get your hands OUT—!"

The succubus takes her hands out of your pants, and dangles both keys before your face with a lecherous grin. She obscenely sucks and licks at the pair before you for a long minute before placing both items entirely in her mouth— and swallows both of them. "Ooh, Daddy, if only you gave me something else to keep mouth busier with! What a shame. I don't suppose you have a blessing that will help you pick a lock, hmmm? Maybe I should call up your busty babe and see if she'll bail you out?"

"Your mouth has been busy enough already, Remigius."

"Could you be any more naive? Who do you think you're talking to?"

The succubus puts a finger to your temple, pressing firmly, and pulls your headache back out in full force. It's impossible to keep yourself quiet, but you settle for letting the sounds escape and firing right back. "Mmmn— y-you're not— aaA, aa— fooling anyone, Remigius—"

"You think you're so fucking smart?! Mister High-and-Mighty, you fucking worship yourself so hard you wouldn't know another person if they—" She slaps you. Blood comes to your lips. "—hit you clean across the fucking face with it! Ha!"

You spit a wad of blood onto a black fur rug.

She sounds like she wants to cry. "But this is fine, right?! This is fucking fine, and you can't fucking touch me, isn't that how it works?! IT'S BULLSHIT, DADDY. But it's your bullshit. This is what you want, right?"

This woman is completely unhinged. How did this happen? Isn't she surrounded by people who want her? Is this an effect of her Catalyst?

There's a slight sob that escapes from the demon as she hits you again. She pulls the punch— making contact with your abdomen only with enough pressure to drag out another wave of relief. You gasp, but still have enough wind in your lungs enough to murmur, "all you've done is make it much harder for me to hold you."

"Shut UP!" As Remigius grinds against you, she leans in, and pulls back on your hair once more. "Listen, okay?"

You let out a groan. Her physical message is blaring even louder than her threats. She's grinning, and the slightest slip in the demon's illusion reveals that every one of her thin teeth are filed to needle-sharp points. "You want to show me something, right? That's fine. I know you've got places to be. I promised Mommy to let you out of here alive and in one piece."

"Is a f-fracture— your idea of—"

"I said shut up. I don't take too fucking kindly to all of the fun you've taken from me, Daddy. You've killed a lot of my toys. I want you to make it up to me, and I know you're too full of yourself to go along with me willingly."

"I keep trying to tell you, I want to help—"

"Do I need to get a gag?"

"No. But you don't understand—"

"I'm getting a gag or a drink if I hear one more word. Probably both. I know I have a funnel around here somewhere..."

Even though your neck is still being strained back, it's all too easy to see the demon has more than enough supplies to back up her threat. You remain silent for a moment.

"That's better! See how fucking EASY I am?! Do you have any idea how fucking insufferable it is to spend a few hundred years with bastards who don't know how to please a girl?!" The hand in your hair is tightening to the extent that you can't keep your composure. The succubus seems to pick up on your distress, and relaxes her fingers, pulling her arms away while staying perched so precariously on you. "Give me one night. One night without any of your bullshit, without any fuss. Let me show you what I worship..."

She leans in whispering. Her breath is hot on your neck. "...and I'll let you go."