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Chapter 3

In Which the Succubus Solace Goes About Her Daily Business

Solace stirs, rolling over in her little sleeping-nook and out of a pleasant dream she really would’ve preferred to see the end of. She greets the morning with a soft groan. Torpor clings heavily to her, and she has to fight to open her eyelids, but the dull, sticky heat of hunger already burns in the pit of her abdomen and she can feel it spreading. Lingering under the covers lazily touching herself will do nothing to help, either, as appealing as the idea feels at the moment. Time for breakfast.

With a yawn and a full-body stretch, Solace stands. Her tail flicks as she stalks across her one-room apartment to where the willing fodder wait, all in a line, begging to have their juices drained –

Solace blinks away the lurid fantasy, wings twitching. Not quite. It’s been decades since the archaic practice of keeping a stable of healthy, robust humans for concubi to feed on was obsoleted by the science of biochemistry. The only nourishment Solace has ever known are aphrodesial supplements. She opens the fridge, dragging her hand gently across the row of cartons. Hmmm... pomegranate flavor today, she decides, selecting one. An apple on the side, too, for some textural variety.

Settling down in her flat’s bay window, Solace gazes out over the infernal city she calls home. Amidst a reddish haze, inverted imitations of human skyscrapers dangle from the cavern’s roof towards a vile pit of boiling purple sludge. Bridges and pulsing veins alike connect the living towers of the grim metropolis. She sighs contentedly. What a wonderful view she has.

She takes a bite from the apple, licking its smooth skin first on sheer impulse. The apples of the underworld are stunted and mealy, but it’s still refreshing to her. Swallowing, she teases the carton of aphrodesial supplement open. The rich cocktail of pheromones and other essential nutrients wafts up to her nose, stoking her hunger. She’s tempted to chug the thing in one gulp. But it’s nutritionally more optimal to drink slowly, according to the label, so she primly drops in a straw. The thick, milky liquid is heaven on her tongue. If you'll pardon the turn of phrase.

While she’s still savoring her mouthful of synthetic hormones, her flat lights up with an unearthly reddish light. She blinks, and quickly realizes what’s causing it. A circle of crimson flame, burning upside down in defiance of physics, slowly grows above her head like a halo. She feels a pull, upwards, both in the center of her mind and physically as gravity seems to slip its grip on her. Deep, solemn whispers fill her ears.

She’s being summoned?! Solace gasps, dropping the apple, not sure whether to be incredulous or honored. “But I’m not even dressed yeeeet!” she cries, as she’s sucked upwards through the magic portal.

It’s Solace’s first time being subject to summoning magic, and what a peculiar sensation. She feels squeezed, as if she’s the one being sucked through a straw. The force feels like it’ll stretch her to pieces, but pain never comes, let alone any sundering of her flesh. She can’t see, and all she can hear is a low rushing sound. Her thoughts can barely crawl through the compressed passages of her mind - dully, she scrapes together the wherewithal to wonder if this is the day she’ll finally get the chance to sate her hunger the traditional way. A flicker of excitement sluggishly crawls into her heart –

And in a gout of fire and brimstone, Solace arrives in a dim, smoky basement, greeted by the sound of a furious argument.