Incubus Ascension-Chapter 5

Liam couldn’t shake it. The photos of him in Beatrix’s drawer kept replaying in his head like a bad loop.

Childhood pictures, recent ones, shots he didn’t even remember anyone taking. If he tried to go to sleep tonight, he’d just stare at the ceiling until morning. No way.

He took a slow breath, turned around in the hallway, then knocked on her office door again. Harder this time. A little too hard maybe.

"Come in," her voice called, sharp but not angry.

He pushed the door open. She was already back behind her desk, pen in hand, looking up at him over the rim of her reading glasses. "Liam? What now?" 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

His mind was sprinting. He needed something believable. Fast.

"Uh... the delivery guys screwed up again. Down in storage. They sent the wrong coffee beans. Same thing as last week."

She cursed under her breath, "those sons of bitches", then slapped both palms flat on the desk so hard the little cactus in the corner wobbled.

"That’s it. Last goddamn time they fuck this up. Next time I’m personally calling their boss and giving them a piece of my mind they won’t forget."

She shoved her chair back, stood, and stormed past him without another word, her heels clicking down the hall toward the stairs that led to the underground storage.

Perfect.

The second her footsteps faded he moved. Drawer. Towards the same one.

He pulled it open slower this time, careful, like he was defusing something. The photos were still there.

More of them than he remembered noticing before. Him at maybe eight years old on a playground swing.

Him at fourteen, awkward as hell in his first high-school jacket. Him last year outside Ark library.

His stomach twisted tighter with every picture he flipped through.

And right next to the stack... a small silver pendant. The kind that opens. Family heirloom style.

He clicked it apart.

Inside was a tiny photo. Beatrix, but not the Beatrix he knew.

She was younger, maybe early twenties, wearing something so skimpy and tight it looked like lingerie designed by someone who hated fabric.

And horns? No, wait. The angle was bad, but behind her... a tail. Thin, pointed, definitely not a costume prop.

She was smiling wide, arm around an older woman who looked almost exactly like her. Same sharp cheekbones. Same sly tilt to the mouth. Mother, had to be.

His pulse hammered in his ears. Supernatural? Demon? Succubus?

Whatever the word was, it fit too well. And if she was... why the hell would something like that open a coffee shop in the middle of a human city? Why collect pictures of him?

His heart hammered in his chest, she was probably from the monster’s side. It explains why she vanished when the walls were destroyed in his past life.

He snapped the pendant shut, shoved everything back exactly how it was, closed the drawer with shaking fingers, and got out of there before she could come back up.

Down in the basement storage the air was cooler and smelled like roasted beans and damp concrete.

Beatrix was already crouched next to a stack of crates, ripping packing tape off one with a box cutter.

She glanced up at him. "They mixed the shipments again. Dark roast Ethiopian in the Colombian bags. Idiots."

He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced his voice steady. "Oh. Yeah. That’s... annoying."

She didn’t seem to notice anything off. Good. He needed to be cautious, she thought he was clueless.

He needed to keep it that way until he figured out what she actually wanted with him.

And until he was strong enough that she couldn’t just snap him in half if she got tired of pretending.

Sure he had the option to tell the authorities about her. But in this world? Where corruption was everywhere.

She would probably make her way out of jail and come killing him off as revenge.

He shook his head and walked over to her. "Want help finishing the inspection?"

She paused, studied him for a second, then nodded.

"Sure. Finish checking the rest of these crates. Bring the report up when you’re done."

She wiped her hands on her slacks and headed for the stairs without another word.

He worked fast, ticking boxes, counting bags, writing numbers.

When he finally finished he just stood there a minute, leaning against a shelf, tired.

He had now bullies back at the academy, his own boss is stalking him with baby pictures and... whatever the hell that pendant was.

Shhh, he was tired of being this weak. While things were happening to him. He needed strength!

Real strength. Not just enough to survive, but enough to push back.

His mind then drifted to Olivia.

Olivia, who was somehow still with him. Still patient. Still saying yes when he needed her.

He needed to use his system more. Farming SP and making Olivia cum.

Because everyday he needed at least 1SP to live through it. Or the system would kill him off.

He sighed, rubbed his face, and climbed the stairs back to the shop floor.

The moment he stepped out he heard it, sharp, raised voice. He turned his eyes towards the source.

Olivia was there, her shoulders hunched, head down, getting shouted at by some old lady in a fur-trimmed coat.

She looked like she was your typical scammer.

His face went hot. He hated seeing Olivia shrink like that.

He walked straight over, grabbed the woman’s wrist, not hard, just enough to stop the finger she was jabbing at Olivia’s face, and said,

"Hey. My dear fucking customer. How about you be a proper human being and keep your voice down? People are trying to enjoy their coffee."

The old lady yanked her arm back, eyes bulging. "Excuse me? I want to see your boss. Right now."

He gave her his nicest customer-service smile. "Sure thing."

He turned his head. "Beatrix!"

Beatrix appeared from the back hallway like she’d been summoned by magic. "What’s going on?"

The old lady pointed at both of them. "You should fire them. Both of them. I’m a regular and this boy just grabbed me and swore at me!"

He shrugged. "She was screaming. Bothering everyone else in the shop."

Beatrix folded her arms. "Ma’am. What exactly is the problem?"

The woman stabbed a finger toward her table. "There was a cockroach in my dessert!"

Beatrix walked over, picked up the little plate, lifted the "cockroach" between two fingers. Plastic. Bright green toy bug, the kind you win at a claw machine.

She looked at the woman deadpan. "Out."

The old lady huffed, snatched her purse, and marched toward the door, muttering the whole way.

Beatrix rubbed her forehead like she had a migraine coming. "You two. Keep working." Then she disappeared into the back again.

He turned to Olivia. Her eyes were glassy, tears sitting right at the edges. He reached up and rubbed the top of her head gently.

"Hey. You don’t have to take shit from anyone. Especially scammers like that old bat."

She sniffed, wiped the corners of her eyes with her sleeve, and gave him a small, real smile.

They both went back to work after that.