"David, what the hell was that down there?" Eleonora asked forcefully after seeing him sprawled out lazily on her bed. The top of his dress shirt was slightly unbuttoned, revealing a hint of his sculpted chest.
"What was what, darlin'?" he asked, his head turned to look at the witch; he sensed aggravation streaked with fear, but he listened.
"Down there!" Eleonora said forcefully. "Scaring everybody, looking at that little girl the way you did! What is your problem?!"
"I ain't got no problem," he snided, "but 'pparently, you do."
"She's only five!" she exclaimed in a hoarse screech. "Five!"
"Watch how you talk, woman," he said firmly. "You don't wanna make me angry."
"I'm not afraid of you, David," she stated calmly. "I don't want to cause any problems, but I'm warning you. You stay away from Clara and Amy. If you even dare to put your mitts on them, I'll banish you myself."
"Whoa, that's a stretch," David chided, standing up and staring at her directly. "I wouldn't threaten me if I were you." He paused, and Eleonora looked down, her long, straight light blonde hair cascading down her face. "Besides, what makes you think I'd hurt a hair on their lil' heads?"
"Because of the way you looked at them," Eleonora responded. "Especially Amy."
"I was only admirin' her," David said, justifying his actions. "She's a very beautiful lil' girl."
"Listen to yourself!" the witch shouted, karate-chopping her hand lightly to add emphasis to her harsh voice. "Do you even realize or care how disgusting you sound right now?!"
"You're exaggeratin' an awful much, Eleonora," David said. "I only prey on women, at least for the most part."
"Most part? Nuh-uh, David," she responded. "I won't have it!"
"I'm a demon," he scoffed. "What do you expect?"
There was a silence, and she looked at him in such a way that he read it clear enough to decipher exactly what she was feeling.
"Do you really think I would be smitten with a five year-old girl?" he asked. "I'm sixty-one."
Eleonora couldn't help but look at him with confusion and shock—it isn't possible, she thought.
"Yes, it is, darlin'," he smirked, reading her mind expertly. "I died at twenty-three, which is why I look so young. I am thirty-eight in incubus years, but I am sixty-one in human years."
"How the hell do you figure that?" she asked.
"Incubus years is how long I've been this way. Thirty-eight years," he explained. "I'd be sixty-one today had I lived out my full human life. And no, I don't love that little girl like I loved Elina. I admired her because she looks like Elina. That's all."
Eleonora felt like she was going to scream—Elina. Elina. Elina. The name had been mentioned way too much by the incubus. Granted, he was in love with her, but she began to question his feelings for whom he had in front of him. Did he really love his summoner? Or was his interest only on a physical level? Was his morbid obsession with her mother, so he claimed, consuming him whole?
"Is that all you care about?!" she asked forcefully.
"Eleonora, you gotta understand," he began; she cut him right off.
"Understand what?!" she shouted. "That you have some sick, morbid obsession with a dead lady?! My mother?!"
"It ain't morbid, 'cause I'm dead," David said.
"But still! I wanted a man to love me! That was why I casted that spell!" Eleonora cried out, tears flowing down her face as she sniffled. "I didn't want some demon obsessing over my mother! It's not fair!" She began to cry softly, her voice cracking as she spoke. "D-Do you even love me?"
"I do," he said, "but not in the same fashion as I did Elina. Elina was the love o'my life."
"Please," Eleonora said. "Spare me the heartache. Leave."
"Sugar, no can do," he told her. "You're bound to me by blood. I'm gonna stick by you 'til your dyin' day."
"If I'm your mistress, like you said," the witch sobbed, "I ask of you. Please leave me alone."
"Fine," he said softly. "All you had to do was ask nicely, sugar. See you t'morrow night."
"No, how about never?" Eleonora snapped.
"No can do," he said, fading out of sight. She bit her lower lip and grunted with frustration, sitting on her bed and tossing her body back to stare up at the ceiling.
I have to banish him, she thought, there must be a way to get rid of him.
"I have called this meeting to order."
Julie looked at the Council of Witchcraft, which was composed of Eleonora, Zoe, Queenie, Cordelia, Misty, and Chase, and stood before them authoritatively. Wearing what resembled a Norse-inspired costume with a blood-red chemise underneath an embroidered, black apron-like garment, a thin leather belt with a silver-toned buckle, engraved brass brooches at the apron straps, and red garnet beads strung at the neckline, she looked traditional to the origin of her spirituality. Eleonora had requested the meeting of the coven to discuss the matter at hand, and what measures they would take to rid them of the incubus' constant presence.
"Eleonora," Julie added, looking at her well-dressed sister. "Take my place up here."
Doing as told, the light blonde-haired woman stepped lightly with her kitten-heeled mules clacking against the floor in graceful stride as Julie took her old seat. Eleonora was dressed quite differently and perhaps even more low-key than Julie's Viking-inspired dress; a dress that had a hound's-tooth top with black bodycon from the waist down. Around her neck was a simple gold chain, and her hair was down and groomed neatly. She nervously took a sigh, looking from Julie to Chase to get her focus back on track.
"We have to get rid of David," she said quietly in an inaudible mutter.
"Uh, what?" Misty asked.
"Speak louder, please," Cordelia requested.
"I said," Eleonora replied, projecting her voice. "We have to banish David."
There was a silence—awkward enough for a cricket to start chirping out of nowhere. Minus the crickets. Eleonora meant business.
"Thought you loved 'im?" Misty asked.
"I realize I made a mistake," Eleonora admitted.
"We can look in the Liber," Julie encouraged. "Bring it over here."
Handing her younger sister the key to the chest holding the centuries-old grimoire, Eleonora walked to where it was kept and jutted the key into the hole, turning it and opening the top to see it there in its leather-bound glory. She took the book out and walked back to the table, where Julie opened the lock effortlessly. Skimming through the hundreds of pages worth of invocations, sigils, spells, potions, philters, and other occult secrets, she looked to the banishing section to see fringes from a page toward the inside binding of the book. Looking down strangely with the others, Julie flipped a page and noticed that there was a page missing.
"What the hell…" She muttered under her breath.
"There's a page missing," Eleonora said nervously.
"That was the page we would've needed," Julie said, shaking her head and looking through more similar types of banishing spells and incantations.
"D-Do you remember the name of the page? It's title?" Zoe asked, looking down and also noticing the torn-out page.
"I remember," Eleonora said. "It was entitled Expello Daemonium."
"Do you know it off the top of your head?" Zoe questioned.
"I…"
She blanked out suddenly, looking down at where the page for the corresponding spell was mysteriously torn out of existence.
"What's wrong?" the doe-eyed witch asked with concern.
"I…I remembered it!" Eleonora exclaimed with shock at her sudden loss of memory at the spell's procedure and materials needed.
"Did you forget?" Chase asked.
"Ugh, yes!" she scoffed, putting a hand to her head. "Do you remember it, Julie?"
Julie took a moment to remember, humming softly in a low monotone. He propped her elbow on the table as she sat, looking down at the open book where the page had been ripped out. She managed to remember that spell called for black salt, blessed holy water, an object of pure gold, as well as chalk to draw the Gnostic pentacle in the ritual space. Julie, once she was sure she remembered everything, tried to speak, but ended up mouthing the words voicelessly.
'We need black salt, blessed holy water, a gold object, a piece of chalk—'
"This bitch ain't talking!" Queenie said.
"What the hell?" Zoe asked.
"Julie?!" Chase exclaimed. "I'm scared! Talk to us!"
"What just happened?" Eleonora asked, her eyes widened in shock.
'Why am I not hearing my voice?' Julie mouthed.
"What?!" Eleonora exclaimed. "Talk!"
'I can't! I can't control it!' the Supreme's lips uttered voicelessly.
"She says she can't control it," Cordelia cut in, using her gift of Second Sight to effectively read her lips.
"What do you mean she can't?!" Queenie scolded. "How the hell is that happening?!"
"She says she doesn't know!" Cordelia replied frantically.
"Alright! Alright!" Eleonora called out, the commotion of the moment causing inner anxiety as a storm brewed inside. Misty rose from her seat, as did the others including Julie, who tapped on her throat with her fingers lightly to signify that something was clearly wrong. Suddenly, the troubled witch looked outside and saw raindrops beginning to fall on the windowpane.
KA-CRASH!
"Ah! Thunder!" Chase exclaimed, blocking his ears with his deformed hands. "Make it stop!"
"Chase, now ain't the time—" Misty said, being cut off by her husband's fearful tone.
"No! Stop! Make it stop! Eleonora!" he shouted.
"Quiet!" Zoe said powerfully.
"Chase, I'm sorry that happened. I couldn't help—"
"QUIET!" Zoe shouted; the commotion suddenly fell silent. "I hear something!"
The witches remained silent, hearing the distant sound of children's laughter and a piano being played skillfully, powerful chords radiating a melody in E minor that was as mesmerizing as the suspected source. Misty recognized the giggling as that of her daughters', and Eleonora recognized the song while looking at Chase—strangely, he was attentive in listening to the piano playing.
"Chase," she whispered. "Go see what that is."
"But there's thunder," Chase replied.
"Chase?" Eleonora said between gritted teeth. "Go do it!"
"Don't be mean to me," her older brother whined.
'No!' Julie mouthed, her voice still absent; mute like a quiet television set.
Chase complied with the orders of his younger sister, walking slowly out of the room and down the hall, careful to dodge his fear of thunder as the rain continued to fall on the outside of the windows. Once the music came clear enough, his colorless gray eyes peered into the ancestry room to see none other than David, the incubus, playing the chords powerfully in an instrumental as Clara and Amy danced and twirled as if nothing was wrong. Gasping, he heard David's soulful baritone croon the lyrics to his song, remembering the melody from before;
"If I'm a pagan of the good times,
My lover's the sunlight.
To keep the Goddess on my side,
She demands a sacrifice.
Drain the whole sea, get somethin' shiny,
Somethin' meaty fo' the main course!
That's a fine lookin' high horse…
What you got in the stable?
We've a lot of starvin' faithful…"
"Amy! Make a spin!" Clara exclaimed, "you look so pretty when you twirl!"
The little girl's curling blonde hair swayed as she twirled, the skirt of her pink sundress making a bell as she lost herself in the music produced by David's swift, powerful fingers and his strong, belted vocals. The incubus took a glance back at the little girl, pretending Chase was not there, and looked forward at the keys before closing his eyes, flashes of fabricated memories appearing before his mind's eye:
"Mr. Darling, I can assure you that your daughter'll be kept safe and protected by me. I was raised a good Christian 'nd a gentleman. I know you ne'er really liked me, but I'm full grown now. I got a degree, I graduated, and now I'm more'n ready to settle down. I hope you'll consider when I ask you this—may I please have Elina's hand in marriage?"
Jimmy, Elina's father and a local farmer of lesser means than David's plantation-owning family, looked at him with his deep, dark eyes, calculating and analyzing him fully. The young man's hair was slicked and groomed neatly, and he was wearing a fine black casual suit over a white dress shirt—David sure looked presentable. The two were sharing a drink, but Britta, Jimmy's wife and Elina's mother, sat with just a cup of black tea, her grayless golden hair fastened in a crown braid with her verdant eyes directed at her husband.
"He loves our daughter," she said in her soft Swedish accent. "I think if Elina says so—"
"No, you did the right thing coming to me," Jimmy said, "but I don't think I want my daughter to marry you, bub. Hit the road."
"Oh, but Mr. Darling, if you could only understand how much your daughter means to me," David pleaded, "I'd be more'n grateful for you to be considerin' givin' me permission to propose to 'er."
"Sorry, but I gave my answer," the older man said. "I said no, and that's final."
"Mr. Darling, just gimme a chance to prove my worth!" David begged.
"I'm a man, too, you know. We all got needs. I would know that for damn sure, and you're looking to satisfy them with my daughter," Jimmy said testily. "She's my pride and joy."
He suddenly looked at Britta, her ageless Nordic beauty frowning at him subtly as she sipped her tea. She glanced over at her husband, and David was curious what was on her mind for certain. When she began to speak, he gasped slightly, and Jimmy's deep, dark chocolate eyes looked back at her without question.
"Would you not be happy if our daughter was happy?" she asked, her sweet accent lacing her voice like silk. "He is a good Christian boy. He loves her. Allow him to ask of her hand in marriage. You will do so now."
David was stunned at the monotone, obedient response Jimmy gave to him and his wife: "There is no other man I'd rather give my daughter's hand to. She is yours."
David smiled, keeping the powerful chords playing by his fingers as he let another false memory come to him, his illusion to escape along with the melodious harmony:
"Elina Darling," he said, "you don't know how long I been waitin' to ask you."
"Ask me what?" she asked, her beautiful, sculpted face staring in his direction. Her long, platinum-blonde hair was braided down the length of her back, and her smooth, white skin seemed to glow in the sunlight. Her eyes, fiery and fierce, seemed to sparkle at him with a sort of tenderness he had never before felt from anyone. David took her hand gently, giving her a blood red rose.
"Every rose's got its thorn," he began, "but you're the one that'll never hurt. You're purity itself, a benediction from God. The moment I first seen you, I knew it was God's will that you be mine."
He paused to take a simple gold band with a single diamond solitaire out of his breast pocket; Elina gasped down at it and a smile slowly began to form between her parted, soft lips.
"Will you marry me, Elina?"
"D-David…" She seemed speechless.
"Please say yes," he said passionately. "I love you, and I'll cherish you everyday 'til the day we die. This I swear to the big man up in Heaven."
There was a moment of silence, the birds chirping beneath the apple tree Elina had been picking fruit from to help out on the farm.
"Yes," she finally said. "I will."
"Oh, I'm so happy," he said, taking her into a loving embrace, feeling the heaving fullness of her breasts through her modest dress as he held her close to him.
He let himself get lost, pounding a few more passion-driven chords out of the piano as he pictured the next fabricated memory he often escaped to:
"I can take it from here, Mr. Darling," David said, looking at his pure, virgin bride dressed in white with a veil over her goddess-like face and covering her updo, her hair color just slightly darker than the shade of her ivory dress.
Jimmy still held onto his daughter's lace-sleeved arm—Elina, trying to be kind to him, tried to ease her arm out of his so she could be with David at the altar in front of the pastor.
"Dad?" she asked. "You can let go now. It's time."
After a moment of reluctance on the part of the bride's father, Jimmy finally let his daughter go, sitting in the front pew with Britta while biting his lower lip bitterly on the verge of tears. David glanced over to see the older Swedish woman pat her husband on the shoulder.
"She is so beautiful," he heard her say, "is she not?"
The incubus felt a tear form in his eyes as the memory sped up; he smiled as he hummed deeply to the tune he was playing:
"I now pronounce you man and wife," the pastor said. "You may kiss the bride."
David, with a closed smile on his face, lifted the veil to reveal Elina's beauty as he stared down into her embers for eyes, hazel and burning tenderly with love. She bit her lower lip gently as he leaned in to kiss her; a simple peck in the eyes of the conservative church congregation.
"I love you," he said. "Mrs. Loring."
He softened the tune, seeing more in his mind as he heard the little girls giggling and dancing to the music he was playing in E minor:
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" David asked, holding Elina's voluptuous, creamy white form close to him. Her nude breasts pressed against his sculpted male form, pink nipples still pert from the heat of the first climax that consummated their marriage.
"Not really," she whispered, biting her lower lip as her new husband leaned down to kiss her with fiery passion.
"Hmm," he purred. "It'll be better, darlin'. Just gotta give it a few more tries, that's all."
As he snapped out of his reverie of daydreams, David turned sharply behind him and got off the piano bench as he witnessed Chase speaking with his daughters. Staring at Amy with the protectiveness of a father of normal intelligence, he felt a rage begin to boil within that was beyond anything he had ever felt before. He felt his nonexistent heart begin to rapidly beat against his ghostly ribcage, and his lip trembled with ferocity only attainable by the lustful passion he had endowed and killed women with in the past as an incubus.
"Daddy, he plays beautiful! I don't wanna go!" Clara replied with a whine.
"Please! We wanna stay!" Amy begged.
"No, no," Chase said. "You can't talk to him. He's a bad man."
"Who're you callin' a bad man?" David sneered, his fists clenched tightly only to open back up again. "If you really spoke your mind, you'd be speechless! Hell, it's a laugh watchin' you fit all your vocabulary in once sentence."
"Clara, Amy," Chase said, ignoring him, "we have to get away from the weird man, now."
"Huh," David scoffed. "My, my, you gotta have a real low opinion of people to think they's your equals."
"Daddy, I wanna stay!" Clara whined. In the meantime, Chase already gathered Amy up in his arms, picking her up off her feet.
"No, no," he said, scurrying them out of the room. "He's a weird man. We got to get away from the weird man. He's bad…"
Chase's voice became faint as he hurried his daughters away from the presence of the incubus, and David felt every last nerve being hit in his body as his fury grew. He felt a fire burn within, roaring through him as he gritted his teeth and formed fists so tight he couldn't relax them to the normal flatness of a hand. Even sensing the possibility of Eleonora banishing him with the help of the coven was enough to send him over the edge. There was no turning back—the inner demon was starting to be released.
A/N:
The italic parts while David is playing, again, Take Me to Church(his theme song, as I've decided), those are more like daydreams or false memoriesthat he escapes to. Think of it as a glimpse into an alternate timeline where Britta didn't die and Elina married David instead of Nick. As you know, none of this happened and Helen/Elina married Nick and had Eleonora.
I want to give special thanks to Weezy815 for her astounding reviews! Greatly appreciated as always.
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