The Suff

After he gives you a hug

I know, I know. More Suff content. But hear me out! After finishing the first episode, I was struck with so much inspiration from the stories that have resulted from the Substack trend. I wrote this last night before I could forget! Tales from Jeff Kinnard, Leigh Parrish, Sara Dietz, Yakubian Ape, The Man Behind the Screen , and Robin Georgereally triggered my imagination. I wanted to take Jacqueline le Fay further and bring the character full circle.

Please enjoy the second and (my) final chapter of the Suff.

See the Suff timeline here

Read the my previous Suff story here

Jacqueline le Fay awoke in degrees.

First, she became aware of the hard and uneven earth beneath her back. The feeling of air—slightly too cool to be comfortable—brushed over her arms and legs. Finally, she felt the painful thrum of a headache.

A mourning dove called once, then twice before tailing off into the soft susurration of wind in the trees.

Jackie opened her eyes.

The sky was a brilliant blue. From her position on the ground, Jackie could see that she lay in a forest clearing. Pine trees surrounded her, tops just visible in her periphery. Turning her head, Jackie saw white flowers surrounding her; their thick and floral scent mixed with the smell of the trees and the crisp autumn air.

If Jackie wasn’t in such an uncomfortable state, she might have admired her surroundings more.

Did I drink too much last night? she wondered.

Slowly and stiffly, Jackie propped herself up on her elbows to take stock of herself. Her fur coat was gone, her silk stockings were torn in several places, and her purse was nowhere to be seen.

“Aw, hell,” she mumbled, blinking in the morning sun. Figured her friends ran off and ditched her.

Jackie was no fool. She knew Edie was jealous of her and Ralph, Dot could care less, Bobby was an idiot, and Ralph… well, Ralph was only ever after one thing. To call them friends was a stretch.

Getting to her feet, Jackie dusted herself off. There was dirt underneath her nails and the red paint was starting to chip. This morning she looked like Clara Bow.

She sighed.

How did she get here?

There was no obvious path away from the clearing, so Jackie picked her way through the flowers to the forest’s edge. She began to walk along the perimeter, all the while searching for a way out.

It hit Jackie all at once: the long-limbed man, the strange wind, the suffering! This a shaky gasp, Jackie’s hand flew to her mouth. She wheeled about, eyes wide.

What if he was still here? What if he was still watching?

Nothing moved and the quiet of the forest remained. Jackie’s immediate panic subsided.

“Pull yourself together, Jackie,” she said aloud. “What would the other’s say?” Jackie patted herself down, praying for a stray cigarette and a lighter to present themselves. None did.

Annoyed and tearful, she sat on a nearby fallen log. Now what? Was she already dead? Maybe this was heaven.

Ha.

Jackie thought that might be too good to be true. Through a watery gaze, she stared down at her shoes. They were expensive, a gift from her parents. Now the suede and leather were mottled from the mud and a silver buckle was missing.

She released a heavy sigh. “If I’d known I was gonna die, I’dve been nicer to poor Fanny.”

A voice spoke from just beside her. “How could you not know you were going to die?”

Jackie jumped, nearly stumbling off the log. “Who said that?” she demanded. Her hands curled into fists, rising to her full height. How she wished for her razor.

“I did.”

Jackie’s gaze followed the sound of the voice to see a small white rabbit leaning against a tree. Before she could dismiss the animal, it spoke once more: “Everyone—everything dies, dreamer of dreams. So how could you not have known you would?”

Jackie’s eyes widened. “You’re talking.”

“I am.”

“Then, this is a dream.” Rubbing her forehead, a small bit of relief washed over her. Yes, Jackie thought, all of it must’ve been a dream.

“In a way,” answered the rabbit.

Jackie began to rub her arms. “If this is a dream, then why do I feel cold?” she muttered.

“Smart girl,” he complimented. “No manners, but you’re smart.”

Jackie pursed her lips. “No manners?”

“You have yet to greet me.”

“Oh.” Jackie stood there, at a loss. This dream was most queer. “Um, hello, Mr. Rabbit.”

“Very well,” shrugged the rabbit—if he could shrug. The shoulder-less movement reminded Jackie of a shrug.

“Dreamer of dreams,” the rabbit said. “You must leave this place.”

“Yes, I’ll be missed.”

The rabbit tilted his head curiously. “Missed by who?”

“By who?” echoed Jackie with a dignified sniff. “My mother to start.”

“I suppose that’s natural.”

“And I’m going to secretary school. I… I got an exam on Monday and a library book due.”

“She reads,” chuckled the rabbit. His oversized front teeth were exposed as he smiled. On another day, Jackie might’ve found it cute.

“Yeah, she reads,” snapped Jackie. “For someone in a hurry, you sure make time to beat your gums.”

“Forgive me,” said the rabbit with a bob of his snowy white head. “You are correct. Time is of the essence and it moves differently here. You will notice it is already growing colder while the sun remains high.”

Looking up, Jackie could see that it was so.

“Therefore we must get you gone lest you be caught up by…” the rabbit looked around nervously before finishing, “the hunt.”

“The what?”

“It is of no import at the moment, dreamer. First we must get you back to your world.”

Jackie thought that was rather obvious. Despite herself, she bit back her initial retort. “How?”

But the rabbit did not answer. Instead, he said, “The Sluagh is not the only thing you have to fear here, dreamer. We must find a way back to your home.”

A cold breeze stirred the clearing. Jackie wrapped her arms around herself, fear once more descending upon her. “You mean the long-armed fella’?”

“I do. You were lucky to have slipped here. Now you must leave.”

Jackie blinked rapidly as she recalled her initial encounter with the strange man. Don’t you dare cry, she thought to herself. When she spoke, her voice shook. “But I don’t even know where I am. I don’t know what a… slow is.”

“There is no need for tears, girl. I will help you go home.”

Jackie self-consciously dried her eyes. “I’m not crying.”

The rabbit did not bother to argue. Instead, he said, “Slaugh, my dear dreamer, the unforgiven. He steals, he consumes. You are in the Shi and many such creatures live here.”

“The Shi…” echoed Jackie, trailing off in shock. She recognized the word from her grandmother’s fairy books.

But the rabbit was already beginning to move away. “Come now, you must be gone by midwinter and it is already the end of the harvest, dear girl.”

Somewhere in the woods, a voice called out. “Hello? Hello? Anyone there?” It was slightly familiar, but in Jackie’s frazzled state, she couldn’t assign a name to it.

Jackie followed the rabbit as he hastily moved through the trees. “Wait,” she called out, “Wait, Mr. Rabbit!” With some difficulty, Jackie navigated the thick brush. “Say, slow down, Mr. Rabbit! These ain’t walking shoes!”

The rabbit paused, giving her a stern eye. “Young lady, you must move with urgency. I cannot stop for too long. If you cannot keep up, I will have no choice but to leave you behind.”

“I’m trying,” said Jackie, “But you have to slow down a bit. There’s someone else here, we have to go back.” As she spoke, Jackie looked back and saw that the clearing had disappeared from view.

“Have to?” asked the rabbit.

Facing forward once more, Jackie responded, “yes, didn’t you hear a someone calling?”

The rabbit looked away. “There are many things in the forest. Many things that sound like people but are most certainly not.”

“But what if it’s someone like me?”

“Then, she will have her own guide.”

She?

Jackie crossed her arms. “So, you did hear.”

“I heard a voice, but there is no guarantee it is a mortal. The old gods live here and they are naught but devils.” His nose twitched nervously. “Shadows unto themselves who hunger for chaos and pain, dear girl. What better way can you harm a father but through his children…?”

Jackie didn’t understand and the rabbit did not explain further. “Enough,” he said. “We’ve delayed too long. Come and stay close!”

A branch snapped. Jackie turned toward the sound and saw nothing. When she looked back toward the rabbit, he was gone.

Jackie felt afraid. The woods felt frightening now she was alone.

“Mr. Rabbit?” she called out.

“Jackie?” a familiar voice spoke, different from the first.

Looking away from where the rabbit had been, Jackie saw Dot standing a few feet away.

“Dot?”

The girl smiled and waved Jackie over. “Come, come! What are you doing here?”

Jackie hesitated. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, silly.”

Jacqueline le Fay was very many things. She was cruel, aggressive, impulsive, and loud, but she was not stupid.

Jackie narrowed her green eyes. “You, Dorothy? You were looking for me? Alone?”

“Well, there are others just beyond the treeline there.” Dot gestured behind her shoulder without looking.

As Dot spoke, Jackie glanced down at the girl’s feet. She was barefoot in the middle of a ring of mushrooms. 

“You haven’t any shoes,” said Jackie.

“I was in a hurry to find you.”

There was something amiss, something wrong.

Jackie took a step backwards. “You’re not Dot… are you?”

“Dot” smiled with tiny sharp teeth. Her blue eyes darkened as Jackie watched in horror. They were inky black, too large to be natural. “Dance like a flame, child,” it whispered. “Impress us and you can remain here in the land of Fae forever.”

Before Jackie could decide between fight or flight, a great wind began to pick up. Trees bowed and leaves lifted off the forest floor. Jackie raised her arms to shield her face.

Then something overcame her, the sound of a flute and drums. A voice began to sing, inhuman and yet beautiful.

Come away, O human child,

to the waters and wild with a faery, hand in hand. 

For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.

Yet, Jackie felt terror seize her limbs in an icy grip.

Dance, dance!

The colors of the forest seemed to brighten, almost painfully. Music filled her head. It drowned out thoughts of resistance. Compelled, Jackie did as the strange voice ordered. She spun and spun and spun until her limbs burned. The world around her blurred.

Yet through the fear, Jackie felt a surge of rage. This was so stupid! She was Jacqueline le Fay!

No one, absolutely no one told her what to do.

Using all her strength, Jackie resisted the pull of the music. She dug her heels into the earth. With gritted teeth, Jackie forced her arms down. “Leave… me alone!”

“Dreamer! Dreamer!”

The rabbit!

He peeked from behind a great oak. The hollow in the middle was filled with light. “Come into the light!” he cried.

Jackie tore herself free from the fae’s song and sprinted for the tree. Without stopping, she leapt into the light.

She fell headfirst into nothing.

Jackie could not tell which way was up, or down. Her body hurdled through a grey silence. After some time—Jackie could not measure how long—flares of light began to envelop her.

Images flashed: two elderly women, one in a wheelchair, looked at her with horror. They were in a white room, the lights were a horrible yellow-white; medical.

“Help me!” cried Jackie.

Then, it was gone.

She fell and fell.

Jackie hit the water with a crash. For a moment, she thrashed about in the cold dark. She saw light above her and headed toward it. Lungs burning, she broke the surface. Coughing and spluttering, Jackie suddenly realized she could brace her feet beneath her. She struggled to stand and wiped her face. Ocean water bogged down her dress; each movement heavy.

Salt stung her eyes and nose, the sky was grey. Jackie stumbled, her heels sinking into the soft white beach as she moved toward shore. What madness was this?

In the distance were ships as large as a city. Planes screamed toward the vessels as cacophonous anti-aircraft guns boomed. Shrieks of agony and raw terror filled the air. Nearby, a man cried for his mother.

Hell, thought Jackie, I’m in hell. 

She saw a handsome young man standing half-submerged in water. He stared at Jackie, confused. Then, his eyes slowly moved to something beyond her.

Turning, Jackie saw the long-limbed creature, the Slaugh, the Suff.

“The Sluagh!” screamed Jackie, “You’ll suff—”

Sand and shrapnel exploded in her face. In the instant the debris hit her, it transformed into a thick cloud of notebook paper. It fluttered and enveloped her, blinding her. Screaming, Jackie batted it away.

Through the storm of paper, she could see the rabbit. He was leaping up and down, waving his forepaws in a furious attempt to gain her attention. “This way!” shouted the rabbit. “Hurry!”

A white light shone from a hole in the ground. Without hesitation, Jackie jumped in. Jackie couldn’t tell which way was up or down as she careened through the grey once more.

The rabbit's voice spoke out from the dark, though he was nowhere to be seen. “Just need to find it!” he shouted over the wind.

This time, the images flashed faster.

She stood on a hill. The wind carried the smell of smoke and meat cooking. Down below, Jackie could make out a great wolf and a dark-haired woman. 

A briefcase with blue light snapped in her face. 

Men groaned and Jackie was surrounded by the unmistakable scent of blood and sweat. A nurse in an old-fashioned dress bent over a hospital bed.

She hit the forest floor with a painful thump that knocked the wind from her lungs. Slowly, she turned over to wait for her breath to return. “Oh, shit,” Jackie groaned.

Just before her, she saw the rabbit's small white feet. “Missed again,” muttered the rabbit.

Jackie did not respond. She could not find words.

There was no time, anyway. A moment later, Mr. Rabbit beckoned with a paw. “This way, this way,” the rabbit whispered as he darted off once again. “I opened another path for you. This is the right one, I am certain of it. Hurry though. The Slaugh—the Suff as you say—is hot on our tails.”

Jackie crawled painfully to her feet. Her shoes squelched, her clothes were stiff with salt. When she clenched her teeth, she could feel grains of sand between them. “I’m going to turn you into rabbit stew,” she grumbled.

The rabbit opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, a howl filled the air.

The hair on the back of Jackie’s neck stood on end.

“What was that?” she whispered. As she did, the first flecks of snow began to descend from the sky.

The rabbit’s eyes widened, his little paws clasping together. “It’s the Hunt,” he squeaked.

A girl’s voice, the same that had called out before the fae tried to take Jackie, called out. “Hello! Please, someone help me!”

It struck Jackie just then. “I know that voice, I know it!” she exclaimed. “We have to find her.”

“There isn’t time!” argued the rabbit. “We have to leave now!”

Jackie stomped her foot. “I am not leaving if someone else is here, Mr. Rabbit.”

“Keep your voice down, girl! They are searching!”

She set her jaw, hands curling into fists. “Then, you leave by yourself,” said Jackie. “If there’s another girl here… well, something tells me that it might be my fault. I created suffering. I manifested it.”

“That’s not entirely how it works—”

But Jackie would not be convinced otherwise. She raced off into the forest as it began to whiten. “Hello!” she called. “Hello!”

It did not take long to find her. Her faded red dress, so unfashionable, stood out starkly against the icy environment. From the moment Jackie laid eyes on the girl, she knew exactly who it was.

“Fanny!” said Jackie, face splitting into a grin. “Oh, boy! I can’t believe it!”

It was Fanny Gotlieb. She stood there, woollen stockings and all. Her face was cut, her hair wet from mud and blood. Her dress was torn in places.

Fanny squinted wiping the condescension from her gasses. “Oh dear Lord. Jackie, is that you?” Her face was puffy and pink from crying.

“How are you here, Fanny?” asked Jackie in wonder.

“I don’t know! I was talking to Detective Eli Whishaw downtown and then… and then… Oh, it was awful! There was this little fox but I’m afraid I’ve lost him. But how are you, anyway?”

Jackie stepped forward and seized Fanny’s hand. “There’s no time to exchange pleasantries, Fanny. We’re almost out of time.”

Fanny wrenched her hand from Jackie’s. “No. It’s not you. Jackie would never be nice to me.” Her eyes were wide

“Nice?!” spluttered Jackie.

“I don’t believe you are Jackie.”

Jackie looked over her shoulder. She could just make out the white light from the new portal the rabbit opened. Another wolf howled, closer this time.

“Fanny, there isn’t time. There are wolves.”

“Sure.”

Jackie exploded. “Oh, you stupid girl! I’m risking my life for your mousey ass. Come with me before I snap your glasses in half!”

To Jackie’s surprise, Fanny began to smile. “It is you!” Without warning, she rushed at Jackie, throwing her arms around the older girl’s neck.

It took some effort to pry Fanny away, but Jackie managed “Get off!”

“Sorry,” said Fanny sheepishly.

The wind began to pick up and a darkness descended upon the forest. Suddenly, the rabbit appeared. “Girls! The wild hunt is nearly upon us!”

“Is that a talking rabbit?” asked Fanny.

“That’s not important right now,” Jackie answered.

Once more grabbing Fanny’s hand, Jackie began to drag the smaller girl behind her, following the white rabbit.

The wind picked up and the ground was icy. Even so, Jackie ran as fast as she could. Fanny tripped over an exposed root. She struggled to keep up with Jackie, sickly and small as she was.

“Don’t stop!” Jackie urged Fanny.

They could hear barking closing in. The rabbit stopped. “There is the exit, girls! I must stay, but go!”

“What about you?” asked Jackie.

“This is my realm, so it is here I will remain.”

Jackie hesitated. But the rabbit did not, he raced in the opposite direction. He cried out, his voice muffled in the snow. “It is nearly too late, girl! Fly! Fly!”

Jackie ran through the forest. All the while, she half-guided, half-dragged Fanny. The sound of hooves and the wind embraced. Branches caught on her dress, her hair, and painfully against her cheeks.

“Fly!” cried the rabbit. “Fly!”

The light was before them.

It was nearly dark.

The light was a finger’s breadth away, and Jackie strained towards it.

The shadows reached out.

Jackie and Fanny jumped.

---

1973, Fifty years later

“You really take this class to the max, professor.”

An elderly woman, fashionably dressed with styled white hair, looked over her glasses. “To the max?” she echoed.

“Extreme,” explained the girl. She was wearing bell bottoms and a checkered collared shirt that was undone two buttons below what might’ve been appropriate for school.

Dr. Jacqueline le Fay gingerly pushed the stack of papers toward the university student. “I see. Well, bring me back your proposal once you’ve incorporated the changes I suggested. Then, I’ll consider changing your grade.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With a sigh, Jackie shut the door behind the girl and turned to the other woman in the lecture hall. “I can’t understand what the children are saying. In my day we spoke English.”

Fanny raised an eyebrow.

Jackie caught her eye. “What?”

“Really, Jackie?” asked Fanny with a laugh. Then, gesturing to Jackie’s shoes, she said. “I love your orthopaedics, Jackie, they’re really the berries.”

“Oh, hush.” But Jackie laughed all the same. “You can’t be mean to a dying woman.”

Immediately Fanny sobered. “That’s not funny, Jackie.”

“Can’t I laugh about my own diagnosis?”

“You may not.” Fanny nodded toward the pack of cigarettes on the table. “You’d think lung cancer would be a reason to stop smoking.”

“Applesauce,” sniffed Jackie. She reached into her purse and procured red lipstick. She applied it with the aid of a compact mirror. “If I only have six months to live, I am going to enjoy them. Anyway, seventy-something is plenty long enough to be on this earth.”

But her glib attitude did not do anything to comfort her old friend.

Fanny wiped a stray tear with an aged hand. “What will I do without you, Jackie?”

Jackie finished applying lipstick and shut her compact mirror with a snap. “Live on, I hope.”

“But who will I talk to? Who can I talk to about the…”

“Ed knows.”

“My husband doesn’t know, Jackie. He believes me. That’s different.”

“Don’t get all soft on me, you old bag. We’re so ancient, I’m certain you will be right behind. If I get to heaven this time, that is…”

Jackie looked into the face of her dear friend. She saw the ghost of what could have been, the version of Fanny that pushed her wheelchair. Jackie raised a self-conscious hand to her cheek. In her mind’s eye, she envisioned the horrible possibility, the alternative path.

“Follow it to the end, Fanny,” whispered Jackie. Reaching out, she grasped the woman’s hand.

Fanny smiled. “To understand?”

“To understand.”

The lecture hall door opened. An intern peeked inside. “Dr. le Fay? Dr. Gotlieb-Harris?”

Fanny rose. “Are the guests here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Can I let them in?”

Fanny looked at Jackie who nodded.

Moments later, the hall’s first two rows were filled with men in suits. Fanny played a film of a grain fire in a silo. When it was finished, she shut it off and flicked on the lights. Jackie perched herself neatly at the classroom’s desk. She listened intently.

“Why have I shown you this film?” asked Fanny. “Why have I shown you grain fires?”

No one answered, but Fanny did not expect them to. She went on. “You see food is flammable. That is why we ‘burn’ calories. It is a unit of energy or heat. We run on energy, on electricity. I show you this film because I want you to picture those flames in your body. Our bodies are meat-suits animated by electricity. Life is whatever causes that energy within us. Here, I pick up this apple.” Reaching across the desk, Fanny plucked an apple from Jackie’s outstretched hand.

“The physics of me grabbing, holding, and raising the apple is,” continued Fanny, “again, energy. Me just thinking about picking it up, is a sort of magic. I use the energy in my brain to think of it, and then the energy to do it, then there’s the external energy that allows me to grab it. I shall go further. We can manipulate this energy with machines, yes? I speak, it causes vibrations, and those vibrations have the ability to move an object. Through this process it is possible to capture sound. That is how we achieved the first gramophone. It is here that we find a unification between science and faith, mythology and reality.” She laced her fingers together to demonstrate her point. “What if there are creatures with the ability to interact with energy on a stronger level than ourselves? There are many, many tales told over time of those able to cross great distances in the blink of an eye. There have a been a great many reports of inexplicable disappearances in the forests of North America, for example. We have the Fae of the Celts—”

“Dr. Harris, with all due respect, this sounds insane.” The man who spoke was chewing a piece of gum, his shiny black shoes gleaming in the fluorescent light.

Jackie spoke up. “Don’t think of it as faeries or magic, Senator Williams. Think of it as technology.”

The senator scoffed. “So, your thesis is that there are creatures with the ability to open doors to alternative realities?”

“Senator,” said Jackie, rising from her seat to stand beside Fanny, “that kind of power in the right hands would do astonishing things. It’s not an inconceivable level of energy, when you consider the capabilities of nuclear power. ”

Another man spoke, a bespectacled and balding man. “Let us say this can be done, surely there are risks.”

“Well, of course, Dr. Lester,” Jackie answered.

“And they are?”

“Geomagnetic reversal. A machine that could rip through space and time would generate enough heat to interfere with the magnetic poles.”

“So an apocalyptic event, is what you’re saying Dr. le Fay?”

“Life on earth has survived one before,” interjected Fanny.

“But not mankind,” Dr. Lester argued.

“That’s arguable,” said Jackie.

Fanny sent her a warning look. Jackie ignored it. “There are very many recordings of a world altering event. You have the manvantara-sandhya in Hinduism, Deucalion and Pyrrha in Greek mythology, Noah and his arc in Genesis, the Mesopotamian and the Cheyenne flood stories. If these are to believed as fact and not a shared motif, a common concoction of a shared human imagination, then we are living the second age of man.”

“Why would we risk it?” asked the senator. The disbelief had faded from his expression, replaced with a tentative curiosity.

“Would you prefer the Soviets tried it first?” asked Fanny.

This comment had the intended effect. The government officials who had been invited exchanged meaningful looks. They were hand-picked guests, those who were open-minded, but without conspiratorial leanings.

“Do you think we could do it?” asked the senator.

Jackie smiled. “Not in my lifetime,” she whispered. Then louder, she added, “But definitely within the next two or three generations.”

End

If you enjoyed my writing, why don’t you check out my fantasy anthology?

Many thanks!