Chapter 4 - Please Hold

I had fully intended to shift into my human form, to spend the night in it and get some proper rest. But the itching and discomfort I felt in it, every inch feeling rough and weird, made me change my mind quickly. I ended up spending the night as a succubus, and without Leonard’s weird candle, I probably got the best rest I had gotten in years.

What woke me up the following morning was a text message. It was from Leonard. Quite a simple one, really. He’d gotten a reply on the forums on how to solve the problem. I threw off the blanket and got up, still in my succubus form, as the discomfort of my human form was something I couldn’t tolerate right now. I really hoped it was part of the compulsions making me crave the ritual ingredients. That it would go away once my change was undone, and I could go back to what I was supposed to be. I slipped the dress on and walked downstairs, knocking on Leonard’s door.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you this quickly. Or in this form.” I could swear he mumbled, “At least not this casually” to himself after that, but I ignored it for the sake of sorting this out.

“So how do we sort the cravings? Because I am this close to eating an entire wheel of goat’s cheese and that would not be a pretty sight to behold.” I plopped down on the leather armchair I knew Leonard had stashed in between the books. He cleared his throat and showed me the page. Yup, the forum still looked ancient. I guess it fit with the whole aesthetic of wizards having ancient scrolls or something. Or maybe they refused to switch to Web 2.0 when everyone else did because their design was solid and functional and accessible. Whatever might have been the case, I started reading the thread. Unsurprisingly, Leonard had hid the fact that he’d messed up the ritual. As well as why he had done it. And who was affected by it. He left the thread a complete hypothetical situation. Luckily for us, there was somebody competent on the site who replied.

A user by the name of ForestHagGranddaughter had left a quick and simple answer. “Contact the ancestor so they can redo the ritual properly?” I read out loud. She, I figured ForestHagGranddaughter used she/her pronouns considering the whole daughter part of her username, hadn’t phrased the reply as a question, but I spoke it out loud as one.

“Correct.” Leonard fixed some hair behind his ear, I swear to god he had showered since I last saw him, because he was less greasy and more just off-putting. Even if your hair looked luxurious you couldn’t hide those circles under your eyes Leonard, please take a fucking nap.

“So let’s do that, call my ancestor!” I jumped off the chair and stood right in front of Leonard. His reaction to my request did not fill me with much hope.

“Well, there is one simple, small, tiny, inconsequential issue with that...” Leonard moved to his laptop again, while handing me a piece of paper with something printed on it. It was a picture of an absolutely gorgeous woman, done in mosaic, like that famous portrait of Sappho. Her skin was the same shade as mine; her head was adorned with two pairs of horns, tall straight ones and curved ram’s horns. Four leathery wings sprouted from her back, along with a spined tail. Sharp claws adorned her four arms, which were covered in flame, as was her neck. Like a lion’s mane made of fire, her eyes burning with fury and literal fire; the most striking visual in the image, more striking than her appearance, was a flaming heart floating shattered in front of her chest. At the top of the visual, it said “Meassael” in a matching stylized font. Would have expected Greek on top there, considering the visual style of the image.

“Me-ass-eye-eel?” I raised my eyebrow, as Leonard showed me the page he loaded up. Another thread on the forums. “How do I contact Meassael?” I read out loud once more. He nodded.

“Check the single reply.” I did. In fact, it wasn’t just that there was a single reply, the thread itself had been locked once said reply got sent. And once again, the one providing helpful information was none other than ForestHagGranddaughter. A single sentence, and a link to download a file.

“You don’t... Wait. What? What does she mean, ‘You Don’t’?” I looked to Leonard, hoping he had more information, that he knew what the file was, that despite ForestHag’s claims, he knew how to contact Meassael. He cleared his throat.

“The file is a quick rundown of her history from one of the Archives. Forest never specifies in the notes if Celestial, Infernal or Fae.” Leonard fidgeted nervously, as he began pacing around the space. Honestly, the fact he wasn’t toppling over any of his piles right now was impressive, considering my first impression of him. “Your Ancestor had a lot of kids, Heaven got scared she was building an army, they sent a group after her, her kids got slaughtered. It was believed all of them died in the attack.” He pointed to the printed page. “That image of her was a depiction of her heart shattering. According to all I’ve been told, it was the first time that happened.” He stopped for a second, resting his hands on the kitchen counter, which he had managed to reach while pacing. “Demons are creatures of emotion. To feel such overwhelming sadness that your heart shatters and you go berserk is… terrifying. She disappeared afterwards, and nobody has been able to get in touch with her since.” I fell back on the armchair again, holding my forehead, minding my horns.

“I’m fucked. I’m stuck like this. I’m gonna suffer every time I turn into a human. I’m gonna be craving a weird coffee and something I can’t eat. I will have to put on a brave face in front of dad that everything is fine and that his child isn’t a literal spawn of the devil.” I rubbed my face and groaned, as I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“It doesn’t mean you are stuck. I’m going to do further research on this. There’s a few other sources I could try. Would be much easier if I could trade with the Fae, but I don’t have access to their realm.” He shuddered, visibly shaking. “I’d very much like to trade a number of unpleasant, dysphoria inducing memories. My first period is something I never wish to remember.” He looked towards me as I was visibly confused, shaking it out.

“Oh right, yeah, trans guy. I keep forgetting. You just look like Professor Snape in his twenties or something.”

“Holy shit, you read Potter in this day and age?!” He looked genuinely surprised. I mean, no wonder, the author was a massive transphobe and antisemite.

“Watched. My major is Media History and so it was included in it as a cultural touchstone. The fanfics I had to dig up for my report afterwards to show the kind of impact it had were definitely the more enjoyable part,” I explained, which seemed to satisfy Leonard enough for him to get off my ass.

“Right, got it. Anyways, I will look for more information. I will get this sorted out for you. No more weird cravings.”

“Thanks. Appreciate it.” I got off the chair and returned to my apartment. It was then that the sorry state of my wardrobe caught me. I could barely tolerate being in human form, and I only had the one dress Leonard had given me, no underwear. I had to get more clothes. I didn’t want to order online, as those purchases would be traceable, and if my dad decided to check what his prized son was ordering, there’d be uncomfortable questions. A second-hand clothes trade was my only option. And thus, after taking all possible measurements I could find and think of, I braced myself to spend time in my human form.

The only part I really missed was the height. I put on the most comfortable clothes I could find, and set out.

Half an hour later I was returning home with a bag. I felt awkward, looking for girls’ clothes, so I ended up getting barely anything. One really cute outfit, and then the bare necessities. I really hoped Leonard would find a way to contact Meassael soon. I really didn’t have the confidence to do that again, and definitely not on my own. It was an easy choice to hop into The Question, to get myself lunch. I was greeted by a familiar smell, plus familiar sounds.

“Peter, you haven’t shown up at all yesterday, you alright?” Olivia was already looking me over for any signs of sickness or injury. I guess if you’re the eldest of six sisters, you kind of develop into a caregiver. And Olivia was ten years my senior. Sure, it was slightly unprofessional to treat customers like younger siblings, but what the hell, she and Clark were family at this point.

“Something unexpected popped up.” I vaguely answered, before I was reminded of my needs. “Hey, so, besides my usual order, could I, uhm, get a grilled goat’s cheese sandwich, plus a vanilla soy latte with chocolate syrup?” Olivia raised her eyebrow questioningly at me.

“I know you’re lactose intolerant, Peter. It would be irresponsible of me to give it to you.” She got started on the coffee right away though.

“Oh, it’s not for me, it’s for a friend. She just… showed up in town, not doing great. She’s crashing at my place right now, so I’m getting her lunch too.” I scratched the back of my head, hoping to deflect her.

“Ah, so that’s the something unexpected, huh? If that’s the case. Clark! Pete’s usual--”

“Plus a griddled goat cheese, I heard the kid, it’ll be done in a few.” Clark plopped down the order on the counter once he was finished with it, nicely wrapped as usual, and Olivia packaged all my items as I rang the purchases on my card.

I definitely wasn’t expecting to see a City Watch car pull up in front of my apartment complex right as I exited The Question. The guard who stepped out looked around, and it was obvious they had noticed me. Usually they dealt with stuff like bar fights breaking out by showing up and holding the people apart until they calmed down. Maybe a traffic accident here or there, which, considering the quality of public transport, was incredibly rare. Really, they showed up to make sure the situation was resolved as peacefully and amicably as possible. Way better than the old police force, from what I’ve heard. No guns, and you needed four years of training in law, psychology and disarming opponents non-lethally before they even sat you with a desk job. And then most of the time, you just followed up missing person cases along with a partner on the streets. Someone always behind the desk, someone walking around, constant contact and communication. The Guard pulled out their toolkit and summoned a drone from their car, which started floating around and taking pictures; they quickly shot a message to their partner before waving me over.

“Ah, excuse me, Mx., are you a resident of this complex?” I knew they were recording well before they asked me that question. They always used the neutral honorific unless you told them otherwise yourself. Weirdly enough, it always felt nice. Not completely right, because, you know, guy, but nice. Somehow not being gendered by the peacekeepers made me trust them a bit more. Hell, I figured ‘mix’ was much more accurate now considering my powers.

“Uhm, yeah, A-201. Is anything wrong, officer?”

“Got a missing person call for A-401. Do you know them by chance?”

“No, no, I honestly only just started talking to my downstairs neighbor, not much contact with anyone else.” The Guard nodded at me.

“Well, if you learn something, please do contact us; the person who filed the report was quite distressed.” The Guard called the drone back to collect the data, as I scratched my chin.

“When was the missing person reported? Just... out of curiosity.”

“Yesterday? We usually give about a day, in case the person just hid somewhere, if there isn't any suspicion for foul play. And nobody had broken into A-401, based on door records and CCTV footage.”

“Thank you for your service.” I nodded at them and went inside. And the first thing I did, before I even considered going up to eat my lunch or put away my new clothes, was knock on Leonard’s door and yell at him. “Just unlock the door, because I’m gonna kick it in for dramatic effect and I don’t feel like smacking you with it!”

“Why do you need to kick it in for dramatic effect?!” I heard him yell back, his voice getting closer with every word, right before the click of it unlocking and opening sounded. I kicked swiftly.

“LEONARD, YOU FUCKER, MINE WASN’T THE ONLY RITUAL THAT WORKED. THE FUZZIES SHOWED UP SINCE A-401 IS MISSING. AKA TWO FLOORS ABOVE ME!” I chugged down the coffee like a frat boy chugging a beer at a party, and took out the goat cheese sandwich to munch it down fast. God, was it delicious and made me functional again.

“It wasn’t?! Fuck, I did the whole book.” He was fidgeting, standing to the side of the door frame, visibly scared.

“The whole book. The whole book of demon awakening rituals. Why.” I turned to face him, my stare full of defeated wrath.

“I didn’t know if any of them would work on me!” I rolled up the wrapper from the sandwich and started mercilessly beating Leonard over the head with it. It wasn’t very effective as a weapon, but it made my point clear.

“You complete and utter idiot! There’s other folks out there running around now, probably not looking like cute succubi, having no clue how or if they can turn it off!” I groaned and stopped whacking Leonard, especially because he mumbled something and the paper got set on fire, burning up completely the moment I let go of it. “Oh haha, magic away the thing I was torturing you with. Anyway, we need to find and help them.” I rubbed my face. “And it will be much easier with me having superpowers. Any ideas what kinda cover story I could use?” Leonard scratched his cheek, and shrugged.

“Some sorta new social media fad of being a demonic e-girl or something?”

“E-girl -- oh my god, how old ARE you?!”

“Twenty-four”

“Damn. You’re giving off the vibes of a sixty-year-old. Anyways, seriously, an unfiction cover story?”

“Well, I know this lovely couple who’ve adopted the online thing, full blown angel and demon, quite adorable really, knew Adam and Eve personally. One of them keeps posting books, the other old cars. So it might work as a cover.”

“Wait, what, the Bible is real?” I was confused, dumbfounded. But, well, I could grow horns, of course it had to be real.

“Of fucking course not, humans wrote that garbage, Gabriel rated it 1/10 on accuracy. A lot of parts are cut or missing or misinterpreted because human ability to categorise things is garbage.” Leonard started looking through his things, and I sighed.

“Well, time to see if I purchased the right size.” I mumbled to myself, hoping he wouldn’t hear it, but I noticed a small smirk on his face forming not a second after I said it. Never mind then, he definitely heard me.