#But let me tell YOU. One thing that gets me every time? Fucked up afterlives

[bonefall]

where’s that little horror piece about kits never growing up in Starclan? because I remember it so vividly but I can’t find it.

The one about Bright Stream?

Weird that it's so hard to find! It's probably because it's got such heavy tags lmao.

I really mean it though like, canon's permakitten system and the idea that Bright Stream is up there, forever taking care of fetus children who were filled by sudden knowledge and yet never grow past that point absolutely horrifies me. Jesus Christ. I don't know how anyone reads that final scene in Path of Stars and isn't filled with itching, white-hot existential dread, man.

Sometimes you just gotta write horror about it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[evilminji]

You know? I DO enjoy me a DPxDC... but what if we make it MORE?

Because I CAN.

So the Daughter, a manifestation of The Light, got fucked up on Mortis... right? And? For the given quality of an eternal constant? "Died"?

Where do we know... that takes CONCEPTS when they die? The Afterlife of the abstract? The Afterlife of AFTERLIVES? Where literally TIME went to Die? As though THAT'S a thing that could happen.

A place that, for them, is probably more of a rest stop.

Removed, but connected. Full of EVERYTHING and ALL THINGS, across every single dimension from here until the endless? The sort of place that could?? Recharge and rebirth... GODS.

So she rocks up.

Huh.... neat. Very green! Lovely place you've got here! She loves the little Blob creatures. It reminds her of- *long and cheerful ramble about various alien species*

Needless to say? Danny LIKES this one! Some of the gods that pass through are ASSHOLES. But, you know, as "King"? They (the various collective Danny's who became King. Don't ask. It's a whole... Multiverse Thing.) are supposed to be in charge of enforcing the "Everyone Be Cool" directive that the ZONE wants.

Do NOT anger the Soup.

NO ONE survives Angry Primordial God Soup.

So he's more of a... "I mean... Technically, yes that IS what they call me" Sort of king? Why? Ooooh? Tale of Woe? Wait! Let him get snacks and his sister! Ghosts LOVE a good Tale Of Woe! Did it lead to your death? Oooh, ooh! Were you wronged and betrayed!? Tell us, tell us! :D

The Daughter? Can finally? LAUGH about it. Weep for it. Make merry and... well, LIGHT, about it. She was never MEANT to be so somber and serious. So angry and in pain. Her brother has done so much HARM though, you know? He's a JERK! And her Father keeps doing NOTHING!

She's very upset! *various ghosts Booooo her Father and Brother, nod at appropriate points in her story* how cathartic! She should visit more. Visit the OTHER Force manifestations that died off and moved here. But.... oh, she's rather worried you know?

The Jedi. They're her special little blorbos. Babies trying their BEST! And her Brother us CHEATING and being a... A-! Well, a right BASTARD! Could any of you help?

And?? Dani? With an I? Whoms't has JUST hit the ice on her drink? Sucks that last bit obnoxiously, and says~? "Lady. Can I HELP? I'm the PERFECT Clone for the JOB!" >:D

Cause DANI? Has a NEW Platonic Situationship! They fight! They're best friends! He tries to kill her and she shoves his stupid head in a volcano! Takes Teekle for a spa day! They are DIVORCED and never married! It's GREAT! Do you know how much CHAOS they've made?!

She's the Construction to his Destruction! The Yang to his Yin! She goes high, he puts frogs in your chest cavity! They. Break. Brains~☆

But! And most importantly. When COMBINED? HE keeps HER from trying to save everything. Reminds her that sometimes? You DO need to destroy for new things to grow. And SHE reminds HIM that if you destroy everything? All the chaos STOPS. FOREVER. Because LIFE is chaos. DEATH is Order. And WE? Are BETTER then that.

So~☆

What's this about a "thousand year Sith Plan"?

HA! Cute. >:3c >:3c *Choas in stereo*

[ziracona]

[Fate Grand Order AU] The Kid pt: 1, ... 8, 9, 10,?

“Ready?”

We both nod. Ritsuka takes a very deep breath, and exhales slowly. I know she’s scared, and it’s no wonder. I would be too, if I was her; who wouldn’t be?

I’m not though.

Really, not at all. I’m doing what I want, and I’ve got the best non-master I’ve ever had with me, and an archer I trust. I’ve survived the impossible, and I’m heading in for revenge and some rescues with a good plan.

I’m feeling lucky.

“Once we’re in there, stay close to me,” says Emiya.

Ritsuka nods.

“I mean it. We’re going to be stretched thin once the fighting starts in earnest, and neither he nor I are going to be as capable as we usually are. That means we’re going to depend on you to keep up and keep your eyes open. I won’t be able to watch you the whole time, but if you stay by me, you’re not going to get hurt. I promise.”

I look over at Emiya. He sounds so intense, and sincere. I still haven’t figured this guy out, but I can tell he genuinely cares about the kid, if for no reason other than she is a kid, and a nice one. I believe him, because I can tell it’s important to him, and not because she’s his master. He wants to keep her safe.

I mean, who wouldn’t.

Ritsuka meets his gaze and gives a very serious nod.

Emiya returns it.

“Good,” says Emiya, “I know this is a lot for your first time, but we’ve got a plan, and you’ve got two servants watching your back. Don’t worry. We’ve got this.”

You know she’s scared too, I think, smiling a little to myself.

“Like he said,” I promise, and I give her a smile when she glances my way, “We’re gonna keep you safe, and we’re gonna save everyone in there. Just you watch, partner.”

She smiles back and gives another nod. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

 -----------------------------------------------------------------

 This is some kind of sick joke.

Shit…

Where did they even get a nun? Where do you get someone for…for something like…this…

I’m not…not entirely sure this is happening at all. It happened before. But things look different. Feel different.

This. Didn’t…happen to me like this. It didn’t happen to me when I was a heroic spirit.

That’s about all I have energy to think about.

You forget, when it’s been long enough, that losing blood makes you nauseous. Why?

I don’t know.

I don’t know…

Wrists hurt, a little. They cut pretty deep—she cut pretty deep. Mostly I just want to vomit. I’ve wanted to vomit for days. I don’t know if I’ve ever wanted that as a heroic spirit before.

It’s not an impulse I’m…s-still supposed to have.

There’s so much sweat soaked into everything, my hair’s gotten matted to my face and it makes it hard to see anymore. I can really only make out anything from my left eye now. So tired…

I wish it would just fucking be over. I’ve died before; I could die again. Instead I’m dying, for so long. So long.

Why?

What on earth is the point in all this?

It’s dark in this room. It’s always so fucking dim. I can see her just fine though.

She’s…she’s here all the time, it feels like. It must be more than one of them. It gets hard to remember, but, none of them look like my cousin did. I guess that must not matter.

Does to me though. Makes this whole thing feel like a joke. They didn’t quite do it right.

I wonder if it’s just that someone really hates me?

I’ve made my fair share of enemies, I’m sure. Can’t think of why else someone would set this up. They’re really taking their time if…

- 

I zone out, or pass out. I’m rarely sure anymore. Consciousness comes and goes, but it comes more than I wish it did.

I’m so tired. I feel cold and hot at the same time, but mostly cold. Strange.

Losing blood, just feels weird. Disoriented, sick. Pain is better, pain you can focus on. This is like…being ill. You’re not all there.

For some reason it makes me angrier I’m on a bed.

I forget that part. Bolted down with several bands—I’ve tried to break them when I’m conscious enough to remember I should, but there’s some powerful antimagic on them, and whatever they’re made of, it’s meant to repel heroic spirits. I can’t do shit to them, not like this anyway. I can’t flee either. Tried that before I tried anything else.

Laid on a cot, bolted down to it, bleeding and bleeding and bleeding from wrists slit so deep. They never stop bleeding, and I never run out. I’m always just on the edge of it, just on the edge of having so little my brain has to shut down, just little enough I’m nauseous and cold and pouring sweat. It hurts, but not as much as dying should, and that makes it worse too. Someone’s hunted hard for the way I died, and recreated meticulously but not so meticulously as to make me think I’m important one of the worst things that was ever done to me, and to add insult to all that I’m dying slowing for days and days on a bed. Like there’s any point in pretending this isn’t as brutal as possible.

It’s funny it was one of the coins I gave her they used to summon me. Makes me furious. Of all the catalysts.

I guess someone was really proud of their poetic timing.

 I tried, a couple times, to talk to the nun in here. She’s always nearby. Sometimes she comes over does something to the cuts on my wrists. I thought she was cutting deeper the first time, but she isn’t. She’s…play-acting. Like there’s any point to that, to any of this shit.

I tried talking.

I…

When did I get here?

It’s too much, trying to focus. I have to stop and clear my head because the nausea is too damn strong. Wait, breathe, try and stay calm, try and not pass out.

…I got here… Don’t know when. That’s okay. That’s okay. Who was there?

…

She was. One of them. Summoned me. I remember…being a little shocked, to see a nun dressed like that in this time. I should have been more suspicious. Used a seal on me. To…

…Lay down.

That’s right. Fucker. Of all the things. Not pass out, not stop moving, not ‘don’t resist.’ No. Go lay down. Go stick your own head under the guillotine.

Fucking mages.

Lay down. And ‘stay there’.

I remember…knowing it was bad when I got the first command. There’s nothing normal about being summoned into a small lab room with nothing but a chair and a bed in it. Magic resistance isn’t my forte, even as a knight class, but I tried. God, that hurts. I don’t think non-spirits have any fucking idea how much it hurts to try and resist a command spell. It feels like every atom of your body is being ripped apart by your attempt to pull away from it. It’s fucking excruciating.

But I’m not stupid, and I knew it was bad. So I tried. She ordered me again, same command. That’s right…. Right. And I couldn’t stop then.

Bottoming out, strange feeling, like I knew I was about to die. It felt, surreal… Always does, when someone who isn’t you is walking your body around with you still inside it.

Laid down. And she commanded me to stay there. I thought she’d be out then, but she had more than three somehow. I tried to resist that one too. The whole time she was fastening bolts in place over my limbs and throat and torso so I couldn’t move once the spells wore off, the whole time she was setting her fucking bowl up under my arms, and the whole time she was cutting into my arms.

…

She didn’t even do it fast. Just calm, and casual. Like it was any other job. Like she was…oiling a lamp or something.

When I realized there was no way I was going to make it out by resisting, I tried talking to her. I was afraid she’d order me to shut up too, but she didn’t. Didn’t seem to feel a need to.

I asked her what she was doing, what she wanted—why she was doing it. I tried pleading. It’s been a long time, but once the knives came out, and everything clicked as what it was, I did. I tried telling her she didn’t have to do this, I tried pleading with her to not, to stop. To tell me why.

She never even looked me in the face. Not like she was afraid to, either. Afraid to feel guilt. It was like it wasn’t worth her time.

 There were others, after the first. I’ve tried talking to them all. I’m sure I’ve forgotten faces, and tried more than once.

Most of them don’t even look at me.

None of them ever even give me an answer.

No one’s even told me why I’m here.

I have no idea what they want. Why they’re doing this.

How long it’s been.

If it’ll ever end.

 I’m so tired. I would give anything to be able to just vanish into the shadows right now and breathe again, for even five minutes.

 Funny. Usually I try so hard not to spend too long thinking about my old life at all.

It’s hard, you know. I try not to think about that either, but normal people, they get afterlives, reincarnation, something. For us, going on after we die means we just don’t see the people we loved again. Even if we’re…unlucky enough they’re also made into a heroic spirit, we maybe cross paths once every 300 years, and then it’s with mages forcing us to take up our weapons and kill each other in some ritual we never cared about at all.

So I try not to think about them. Because I miss them.

Of course I do. We all do. And I don’t think I could stand thinking about that much.

God I hope they’re happy, and that they’re together, all of them, wherever they are now.

I hope Little John was okay. I hope Will didn’t blame himself, when I was the one who didn’t take his advice.

I hope they know I miss them.

I hope they understand why I try so hard not to think about them.

I love them way too much to let myself do that. I’d never be able to bear it.

But.

It’s so hard, like this. I try, but I can’t not think about that Priory in Kirklees. I can’t not think about the one person with me, or the people I left behind to get there.

…

I remember still. How sad he looked, when I asked him to bury me somewhere green. I knew he would do it, though.

I’ve never gotten to see my own grave. I went to look, once, but I know the place there’s a marker up isn’t the right one. Little John has a nice one, though. Under a yew tree. It suits him.

Please. I can’t.

 I can’t.

I turn my head, slow, and find the woman dressed like a prioress from another time. She’s sitting in a chair nearby, sewing. God knows why.

There’s no reason to try again, but there’s no reason not to.

“Please,” I try. My voice started sounding hoarse days ago. Now it’s just…weak and dead. I know she can hear me though. She doesn’t acknowledge it, but there’s a little change in her posture, and I see it. Come on. What do you have to lose? Or to gain? “At least just tell me why I’m here. It can’t hurt to tell me that.”

This seems like the one I have the best chance with. Nobody who won’t tell me why they’ve been slowly killing me for days on end in the most fucked up way maybe possible is going to come free me.

Just like before though, she doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even look my way.

…I think the bitch smiles. Why?

God damn it.

And then it’s just back to sewing. Like I’m not in the room.

Why. Why won’t you tell me? Why!

 I give up. I turn my attention to the bars I’m under, and use every bit of strength I have to try and weaken the restraint bolting down my right hand, like I have every time I’ve tried this. Pretending I might somehow eventually chip away.

Like every other time, the only thing that happens to me is I pass out.

 When I wake up again, and my weak vision focuses enough to see well, it’s another woman in the chair, but I recognize her. I’ve tried talking to her before too. How many of them are there in rotation, six?

Where did you come from? Why would you want to do this? What kind of job posting did you even answer to fucking walk in here like this?

Like she can sense me thinking, she turns and glances my way, sets her needlework aside, and stands.

Great.

Wish I’d stayed out, but, it’s a mind game, so of course she was waiting for me to wake up.

I consider trying to knock myself out again, but that would just postpone this, and I am later-me, so there doesn’t seem to be a point. I watch with numbed dread as she picks up a small knife from a little table by her chair and walks over.

“Still afraid to look me in the face while you do that?” I say, hoping to provoke any kind of a response. I don’t get one.

Of course. Figures.

She stoops by the bed and readies the knife carefully by the vein that is still very much bleeding and not even starting to coagulate in my left wrist. This is gonna hurt.

There’s a sound like a truck hitting a wall, and we both jolt and turn our heads to look towards it. There’s nothing there though—still just us in the room.

I listen, ears straining, desperate for any change to this endless fucking routine, and I hear…is that. …It can’t be gunfire? Can it?

But that’s what it sounds like. For just a second, but I could swear...

I don’t think the prioress actor can hear it, because she isn’t as alarmed as I’d think, hearing gunfire, but she’s definitely on edge after the crash. She stands up, knife still in hand, and gives the direction the thud came from a wary look.

Please be someone shooting the building up. Just come in here and put a bullet between my eyes and send me back to the throne—I’m begging you. Mercy kill me. Please.

Shit, that won’t work will it. Fuck—I have god damn catalysts. They’ll drag me right back with that coin.

Not if they’re all dead, though. I pray to God in my head that this is some mage-on-mage war breaking out and that might happen. I doubt I’ll be that lucky though—feels like a long time since my prayers were so miraculously answered.

I stop hearing what I thought was gunfire, and my heart sinks.

The fake prioress stands where she is a few more seconds, still wary, then seems to calm back down, and turns back to me again.

Shit.

There’s a smashing sound and sudden light from the far end of the room, and in the second I squint, trying to adjust to it, there’s a flash of intense motion that’s humanly impossible and something rams into the prioress’s face and sends her flying back so hard she dents the wall behind me, and I’m suddenly looking up in shock at the worried face of a heroic spirit I know.

No. I’m dreaming. There’s no way this is happening to me for real. I don’t have good luck of any kind. There’s-

“Robin!”

But that’s his voice. Sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Out of everyone in the world, somehow it’s one of the few heroic spirits I can call a real friend.

“Billy?” I manage in disbelief. Even with limited vision from one eye, it’s clearly him. Jacket and shirt bloody like he’s been shot, but acting completely fine, colt in his hand—Oh my God.

“In here!” calls Billy over his shoulder, then he’s beside me in a heartbeat, taking in the scene for a split second before immediately going for the restraints.

“Wait, don’t-“ I try to warn him, but I’m too late, and he yelps in pain and snags his hand back shaking it reflexively. “Anti-spirit enchantment,” I explain sympathetically.

“Damn it,” says Billy, still shaking his hand, “Okay—hang on—Ritsuka!”

The name is delivered over his shoulder, and I turn to look and see two more figures. There’s a taller spirit whose form I find vaguely familiar, even though I can’t see him well, standing by the door. Lookout, I think. And then a smaller person—a girl, a kid, running towards us.

A…Not a spirit—a mage?

Must be.

Doesn’t smell like one though. Just smells like a human.

When she gets close enough to see me, she skids to a momentary stop and her eyes go wide with horror and she looks sick, but before Billy even has to prompt her, she’s moving forward again, and she makes it to me out of breath in only another second, casting Billy a worried look.

“I can’t open them,” explains Billy quickly, gesturing to the restraints, “I could try and blow them off, but that’ll be loud, and it’ll be a—”

“—I-I got it,” she interrupts, “But how do I—” She stops and stares at the bolts holding me down and furrows her brow, then gives Billy a confused look like this is some kind of trap. “But they’re not locked?”

“Was mine?” asks Billy.

His? …Oh no. Oh Billy, I’m so sorry. I try and remember how he died. I think it was a shit death.

“Yours was different—I mean, it was sort of locked, but it was all hooked up to a computer. This is just…a little twist lock, like a door bolt,” answers the girl.

“Doesn’t matter,” says Billy, “He can’t touch it.”

“Oh—Oh right!” she says, realization in her face, and then she’s turning the locks on the bolts and tugging them up and off me as fast as she can. She does the one Billy had indicated, my left wrist, first, but then she gets the one on my neck, and something about that makes me like her. It’s not the most practical choice, but it was the most distressing one, and I like what that says about her priorities.

“Hi, uh—” she hesitates to give the fake prioress a kind of worried grimace, then looks back at me as she goes, “Y-you’re gonna be okay, okay?”

“—Robin Hood,” adds Billy for her with a nod. Her eyes widen.

“Robin Hood?”

That’s nice. Still surprises me when someone reacts to my name like they just heard ‘King Arthur’. Who’d have thought?

“R-Robin Hood,” she says again, nervously turning back to me and trying to give a reassuring smile as she unlocks restraints, “We’re here to help. We’re going to rescue you and all the other heroic spirits trapped here.”

‘Other’? God, I wonder how many more of us there are… I’m working hard to think fast about what those words might mean.

She gets the fourth bolt and something happens and I suddenly feel overwhelmingly sick, and my vision goes black and I’m gone.

 I’m not sure how long it’s been when I come back. My head is throbbing and my body feels weak and drained, and I’m so terrified that this scenario I can vaguely remember is some fever dream and it’s just going to be me and that woman in this room, but when I open my eyes, there’s two blurry figures above me, and one silhouette is blonde and the other a redhead, and in the six seconds it takes for my sight to focus that makes me hopeful.

“Robin?”

Billy’s voice, and I can tell from his tone he’s called my name several times. I vaguely register pressure on my shoulder, gentle. He’s…worried about me…

“Yeah,” I slur a little, but I get out.

“Crap,” whispers the girl, who looks pale as a ghost now, “Robin?” she tentatively asks louder, “This thing they have you in, I think it’s what’s giving you enough mana to stay alive, and if I remove it-“

“-I’ll die,” I answer unevenly, filling in the blanks.

“Will you form a contract with me?” she asks worriedly, glancing at her hand, and then holding it out towards me like an invitation. “I-I promise I’m only here to help, so you can stay grounded a-“

“Absolutely,” I croak out, weakly slinging my bleeding left hand up as high as I can get it, “I accept your offer. Let’s do this.”

She looks kind of shocked.

“You’re with Billy. Who I trust,” I explain slowly with what energy I have left, and I see Billy smile out of the corner of my eye, “So I know I can trust you. And honestly, kid, I’d take anything over this shit right now. It really can’t get worse let’s do this.”

I meet her gaze, and she still seems a little taken aback, but relieved too, or happy, and she gives me a fervent nod and takes my hand in hers very gently, careful of the wound on my wrist, then places her right hand on top.

“My soul becomes your will; your spirit becomes my destiny. If you accept this contract with me, then answer my call,” promises the girl unlike any way I’ve heard a mage offer a contract to me before. I feel more like I’m being promised something than asked to sign a contract suddenly, and it’s an odd feeling. But a welcome one. “and bind to me; Archer!”

I look her in the eyes and say, “I accept your contract,” and there’s a flash of red light from her hand and I feel the connection take root and suddenly I’m getting a little stream of mana I wasn’t before, and my head feels clearer than it has since the moment I was summoned.

When I look back up, the kid is watching me worriedly, but she must see something good in my reaction, because she smiles at me and sets my arm down gently, then goes back to speed-ripping the restraints off. She’s down to like, ankles and one leg when she goes, “OH CRAP!” and pops back up into my view, since I sure as hell haven’t felt like trying to sit up yet, and whips around to face me.

“I-I’m so sorry—I’ll get those in a second, but let me—”

She’s going for my wrist, and I’m confused for a millisecond, then I get it and relax, and let her lift my arm. The kid does it gently, supporting my weight with her right hand and carefully placing her left over the wound, and she shuts her eyes and scrunches her face up in concentration, and I feel a faint pulse of mana, and the pain in wrist fades to almost nothing.

Pausing for a quick glance at her work and seeming relieved by it, the kid sets my arm down and does the same thing with the other. She’s sweating now, and looks a little shaky, but if she’s somehow supporting both Billy and me at the same time, it’s really no wonder her mana’s kind of tapped out. Actually it’s a wonder she’s signed on two servants. –she has, right?

Wait—shit. I forgot the one at the door. That’s impossible though, right? No normal mage has the mana for that, let alone a kid, and I don’t think we’re in a holy grail war right now or something. He must be contracted to someone else?

Finished, the girl goes back to freeing the last few restraints, and Billy kneels by me and tugs some fabric out of a pocket and takes my wrist himself. It’s not bleeding anymore, but the cut’s still there, which is about how it felt, so I’m not very surprised to see remnants of a wound. Billy begins wrapping the incisions for me, and I keep still while they both work. I know I’m gonna have to stand up in a minute, and I’m gonna need whatever energy I can get.

“So,” I say with a tired smile, watching Billy as he wraps the cut.

“So,” he echoes, grinning at me, “Surprised I swung in to rescue you? –Well, we swung in?”

“I mean, yeah,” I answer, “Completely. I can’t even pretend not to be.”

His grin widens.

“…Did you pistol whip that prioress into the wall?” I ask after a second, trying to keep the smile twitching at the edge of my lips from becoming real.

Billy glances over at where she landed with a bit of a grimace, then glances back at me and says, “Well, she was about to cut into you with a knife.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” I say, and I’m sure damn well not.

“She-she’s still breathing, right?” asks the mage kid worriedly, hearing us.

Billy glances over at the body again.

Huh. I guess the kid is trying to avoid fatalities. She must be his master too, the way she’s talking to him, and he’s acting, so she is supporting two. A little odd for a mage to be so soft, but I guess she is pretty young. Kind of nice. I guess. Though I really wouldn’t mind if that bitch was dead… Still, probably for the best.

“Yeah, she’s breathing,” confirms Billy before turning back to me, “Don’t worry—I definitely broke some bones, but she’s alive.”

“Oh good,” says the girl in relief.

“Didn’t know your precision gun skills extended to pistol-whipping,” I comment with a smile.

“Hey, they extend to everything,” promises Billy warmly. God it’s good to see him again.

“Why are you here?” I ask, glancing from him to the girl.

“Short version? She happened to see me in about the same spot you are, intervened, and we decided to take the whole place down, like you do,” says Billy happily as he finishes tying off the second bandage, “Archer at the door is Emiya—she summoned him to help us.”

‘Emiya’? I know that name—I remember him. Not sure where—maybe a summoning I lost memories of, but…I don’t have a bad feeling attached, so that’s a good sign. He’s another archer, isn’t he? Huh, what are the odddd----wait!

“She’s contracted to three servants?” I ask in disbelief as Billy slides a hand behind my back and starts to help me up.

“Oh she’s gonna be contracted to at least six before the night’s up,” says Billy.

I gape at the girl.

“I uh, I have weird mana,” she manages in a weak voice, turning red, “I mean a weird amount.”

“Yup, which works great for us! She’s not got much training, so we’re all gonna be running a little thin on mana,” says Billy. I make it to my feet and he lets go, keeping his arms up in case I fall, and I’m unsteady on my own, but I manage to stay standing. “Downside? No noble phantasms for anyone but me, and we all gotta be careful to stay material. Upside? She’s the only mage maybe on the planet who could walk through here and contract to six servants alone.”

“Well, it sounds like we got the better end of that deal,” I say, taking that in and giving my new master a curious once-over. Now that I’m thinking clearer, I see I was right. She’s young—maybe sixteen, seventeen? Japanese. Down a command spell, too.

“Oh, I didn’t introduce myself again,” she says, chagrined, and then offers me a hand, “Robin—i-is it okay if I—?”

“You can call me that,” I affirm with a weak smile.

“Thanks,” says the girl, smiling back warmly, and I’m struck again by just how young she is. It’s not like I’ve really had time to think…any of this through, but. She’s here, saving me. Saved Billy, apparently. She saw what was going on with me, God knows what she saw happening to him, and still, she’s here, stalwartly sticking it out. Just a kid.

I know that’s not right, and a part of me feels guilt suddenly, like somehow it’s my fault she’s here and in danger and in over her head, but it’s not, and I know that. I’m lucky she came here for whatever her reasons are, and I’m damn lucky she’s helping me, and all I can do about it is stick by this new master and keep her safe in thanks.

“Robin, I’m Ritsuka Fujimaru—you can call me Ritsuka,” she adds, offering a hand for a handshake. I take it.

“Nice to meet you Ritsuka,” I say, “Thanks for the rescue. I owe you big; just tell me what you need, and I’m yours, Master.”

Her eyes widen a little and her expression changes to distressed. Hm?

“Oh, please—just Ritsuka,” she says, “You aren’t my servant, and I’m not here to be your master either. I just want to be your ally. I-I mean, you’re Robin Hood.”

I blink, surprised. “You don’t want to be called that?”

“I don’t want to be that,” she says, flushing a little, “I know technically you contracted to me, but I promise I won’t try to force you to do anything. I don’t want to be your master; just your friend.”

That might be the sweetest thing someone has said to me in the last hundred years, and it’s some kid I’ve only just met who’s got no earthly reason at all to be helping me. Something about her in that moment reminds me of Will, something about the intense fervency and the delivery of such a dramatic statement with so much genuine meaning and complete sincerity you can’t help but find it impossible to mock. It makes me like her.

“Well okay then,” I say, “If that’s how you want it. You’re very generous, Ritsuka.”

She beams like that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to her in the last 300 years, and I see Billy watching like a proud parent or something, matching grin on his face.

“Okay, great! We better get moving. We’ve mostly been able to sneak so far, so keep it down, but they definitely know something is up. Come on!” says Ritsuka, turning back towards the door and hurrying off, waving me and Billy after her. Billy lets her get a little lead and then slides an arm around my back and helps me towards the door.

“Really somethin’, huh?” asks Billy very proudly now that she’s not in hearing distance.

“You really god damn lucked out, didn’t you Bill?” I reply, giving him a weak grin.

“Oh, more than I maybe ever have before,” he agrees readily, “Told you my prayers get answered.”

I smile. “Guess they do.” We’re quiet for a second as we catch up to the others at the door. I’m feeling better and better by the second, stronger. Should be able to walk on my own in less than a minute. I’m not getting a ton of mana from the kid up there, but it’s enough I’m healing at a decent speed.

I glance over at Billy once we’re about to them. He looks like he always has. Proud, happy, relaxed, sharp, young and full of potential and hopes and dreams. A more real happy than I’ve seen him look in a long time, but with it, I can see some very recent shadows lingering. I don’t know exactly what he’s been through, but I know it was like the hell I’ve been in the last few days, and that’s enough.

“Hey Bill,” I say quietly, and he glances over expectantly, “Thank you, for coming for me.”

He smiles. “’Course. What are friends for?”

“Saving each others’ asses,” I agree with a tired smile.

“Saving each others’ asses,” he echoes, pleased.

It’s familiar.

I’ve got no real idea what the plan here is, or what my next hour is going to look like, or even if I’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell of surviving it, but I feel hopeful. We’ve been in some dire straights together before, and made it out.

Besides, I already got quite a miracle tonight; what’s one more?

“Emiya, Robin,” says Ritsuka proudly, motioning from the tall archer, to me, and back, “Robin, Emiya.”

Emiya gives me a nod. He’s familiar as hell, and I see recognition in his eyes I think, but I just can’t god damn place him. I’m right, I can tell—it’s a summon I’ve lost memories from, god damn it. I fucking hate that. I don’t sense any animosity from him though, and I’m not getting any misgivings, so I figure we were at least completely neutral towards each other whenever we met, and that’s a good sign, all things considered. I nod back.

“So,” I say, glancing out into the hall curiously now that I’m there, “Rescue mission, right? For several more of us? We got an actual plan, or we just winging this?”

“Plan,” says Ritsuka like she’s a little surprised and hurt I think she would come here without one.

“Yes,” agrees Emiya, giving me a once-over before returning his attention to the hallway outside, “We’re getting as many of us as fast as possible, because at a power disadvantage, we can use the numbers. And the next step is going to be one floor up, six doors down.”

“Any idea who it is?” asks Billy.

This is the most I’ve seen of the place I’ve been stuck. I barely had time when I got summoned to register the fucking time period, let alone anything about my surroundings. It’s some kind of multi-story building though, modern, security everywhere. Right now, there are alarms blaring, but they don’t sound focused on this level. They must have created one hell of a diversion before coming in—probably the crash I heard earlier. There are about ten unconscious guards in my line of sight up and down the hall; I’m genuinely amazed I can sense them all breathing. I guess Billy was serious about the kid wanting them to hold back. That’s going to be a huge pain with us all fighting weak and wounded, but I guess it’s unavoidable, and I’m not in a position to look a gift horse in the mouth anyway.

“No,” says Emiya, “I don’t recognize the energy signature, and from Ritsuka’s description of the catalysts she saw—if we’re limited to them—could be a large number of spirits.”

Billy gives a nod, adjusts his hat, and casually slings open the barrel of his gun and reloads it without looking away from Emiya. “Well then, let’s go find out.”

“Fast, preferably,” I agree. I don’t care if it’s the most god damn annoying spirit I’ve ever met up there. None of us deserves to be trapped like this another second.

“Okay, keep quiet, stay close,” says Emiya, moving out into the hall.

Okay, I think, watching Ritsuka hurry into the hall after him. Billy gives me a look asking if I’m okay to walk, and I nod and he lets me go and together we step out after them. Alarms blaring, unfamiliar territory, one familiar person, and God knows what in store. Still, I think, keenly aware of the now very faint throb in my wrists. What a comfort relief is. Unlike any other sensation I’ve ever known. Not really anything new, is it? These kinds of odds.

I glance over at Billy. He’s excited and focused, gun ready, eyes bright. It puts me at ease to see it. He’s always like this in a tight spot, but then, he’s about the best spirit I’ve ever known to be stuck in a foxhole with.

I’m sad for just a moment, remembering other people it was good to be pinned down with. Thinking about the worry on his face when he got to my side, and how it’s not the first time a friend looked down in horror and grief at me bleeding out like that. All these things I try never to think of.

But you’d like him, Little John, I think to myself, cheering up a little at the things I know he’d say, He’s a ruffian and an outlaw and a loyal friend, and you’d like him right away—faster even than I did. I know it’s true; I know them both so well by now. He’d be glad there was someone taking up his place, when he couldn’t be here. It’s such a rare thing, for one of us to make a close friend once we’re sent to the throne.

Part of me wonders for a second if he’s why. It’s been a long time since my prayers were answered, but I wonder if my best friend prayed for it enough he got it.

We pick up the pace, and I hear people ahead and summon my crossbow, preparing to fight. I see knives appear in Emiya’s hands and Billy pull back the hammer on his colt in the same instant.

Probably not, I think, closing my eyes and letting myself smile in the one moment before we round the corner on a fight.

But maybe.

Which is a thought worth holding on to.

[ma-gic-gay]

Death had always been a finite concept. For both of them, presumably, but especially for Carly. Death was something she had to deal with far too regularly for her tastes (comes with the territory when you have a habit of marrying mobsters), despite her hatred of it.

Shootings, she could handle. And did, shockingly well. Despite the fact she couldn't handle being in a stable situation for more than a day, she was great in a crisis.

Of course, the fact she had Jason there was helpful. She felt unsafe, she called him and it was like she had her own personal body guard. It was, in a very strange way, nice to know he wouldn't hesitate to kill for her and has done it repeatedly in the past.

The deaths of the people who tried to kill her (or him, especially him- she prayed those bastards got the worst treatment they could) were the only ones she could handle.

It's a bit ironic she got killed from a shooting, three hours and twenty three minutes after Jason died, in a weird way. She always said she'd kill for him (realistically she knew he'd lose his shit if she ever did that because he's overprotective and hasn't taught her how to use a gun), and that's exactly what she did. He got shot right in front of her, she grabbed his gun while he was yelling at her not to and shot the person.

Slight problem though, she too got shot. Whoopsie daisies.

Getting shot fucking hurt. She was in and out of consciousness when she was at the hospital and no one would tell her about Jason's condition. They were married, for fuck's sakes, why the fuck wasn't anyone telling her how her husband was doing?!

Eventually, someone (probably Monica, she can't remember) told her he was dead. They got to him too late, they said, he'd been doa and their best efforts hadn't revived him.

After hearing that, she couldn't live with herself. He got shot because Vince was trying to shoot her and off he went to be her hero and make everything okay and he got killed. One phone call and he was at the Metro Court, hanging out with her and keeping watch when he noticed Vince in the parking lot and went out there to confront him. Vince pointed a gun at Carly and, of course, since Jason's a self sacrificing person, he died.

Which meant she was directly responsible for his death and that rocked her to her very core. She'd failed him. After twenty five years, she failed him. Even he'd have to admit this one. There was no spin on this (and she'd heard some strange ones over the years) for how she'd be able to live with herself after she failed him. It wasn't like she'd done something stupid, no, she got him killed. Carly knew he'd do something, especially since Vince was a dick, and she told him. Did he deserve to know? Yes. But only after she'd reassured his overprotective streak she'd be fine and he didn't have to kill anyone else for her.

According to something she'd heard from the doctors, in whatever fucking limbo this was, Carly had died of a heart attack. Likely brought on by stress. Bullets were fine but hearing of Jason's death killed her.

Yup, makes sense. Well, she'll be able to apologize for all of eternity once she gets to wherever she's going. Even after he forgives her (which, she's being honest, will happen as soon as they see each other), she's going to apologize and apologize.

Ooh, she gets to see Sonny and Morgan too! Her son and husband and best friend for all of eternity. What could be better?

There's something that vaguely looks like an angel and she notices it drags her up. Huh, guess she's going to heaven. Makes sense, Carly's a fairly good person. She's not a terrible one.

Except when she gets there she only finds Morgan and Courtney (Courtney, oh how she missed her), no Jason anywhere. Where the hell was he? Avoiding a party, probably. She has got to get him to go out more, especially now that nothing can probably happen. What are the rules of death?

"Where's Jason?" Carly asks after greeting the pair. They stare blankly until she asks again, "Where is he? He's here, right? I was told he's dead!"

Courtney's the first one to be stunned out of her shock. "Carly, he, um, didn't make the cut."

"For what? Give me that list, I'm adding his name at the very top. Where the fuck is he?" She exclaims. He's here, he's got to be here.

"You're aware of his job, right?" Is she aware of his job, of course she is!

"Yes, Courtney, it's why we got married. Where the hell is he? Or Sonny, or Mike!"

"Mike's taking a nap and Sonny's not dead." What?! "Or, if he is, he didn't make the cut either." Didn't make the cut for what? Carly will scheme, steal, seduce, lie and cheat go get those two up here with her, where the fuck are they?

"Because of Jason's job and the amount of people he killed, he didn't make the cut to heaven. He's in hell." Is it possible to die twice? She might just do that. He's in hell, which is a place for bad people! Her hero is in hell.

She's gonna kill someone. "I'm not perfect! None of us are perfect, I killed someone! Why the hell aren't we down there? He died defending me!"

"Shocking," Morgan says dryly. "Jason killed people for a living. He was a mobster."

"And I'm an accessory to all of that! I lead the mob for a week or two!" Carly exclaims. "He's a good person, we know that."

"We're not in charge of the decisions, Carly," Courtney attempts to comfort her best friend. It's a nice attempt. "That's for people with a lot more clout than us. If it was up to either of us, I promise he'd be here but you'll never see him again."

Never see him again? Oh hell no. "Is there any way to get sent down to hell with him?" This is impulsive and reckless and Jason wouldn't encourage it but she's got less care. She needs to see her best friend again, goddammit."Some paperwork I can file, some people's husband's I can seduce?"

"Someone can submit you for reevaluation."

"Great! Is Emily here?" Emily hates her, she'll surely want to help!

"Somewhere, yeah. Why?"

"Emily hates me. Can't blame her. Anyways, look, I want to help her write my reevaluation. I've ruined a lot of lives."

"Which Jason has always helped you feel better about."

"That's because he's my best friend, Morgan."

The next few weeks are spent making sure every single one of her transgressions is on the list and resubmitting her,,, whatever the hell it's called, Emily never gave details.

So it's really not a surprise when she's dragged down to hell by some gross creature, waving goodbye to her son and Courtney and sister in law (that's a weird thing to think about).

And when she gets there, it's just like a darker version of heaven. It's the same fucking place (away from the fire), just more her color palette. Weird.

"Excuse me, where's Jason Morgan?" She asks the creature who dragged her down here. "I was informed he'd be down here."

A shrug is all she gets in response. Well then, she's able to roll with the punches and searches up and down for him, eventually finding him in a room without decorations or anything but basic necessities.

She's got some decorating on her hands.

Carly walks right through the half opened door (he really didn't lock it? Weirdo) and gets the response of, "Get out."

"Don't expect me to start knocking just because we're dead," she quips, a smile on her face. Knocking is overrated. He looks normal and as he registers what's going on, he gets all squinty.

Once he actually realizes it's her, she's already half attacked him in a hug that he reciprocates. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Little bit of bargaining, Emily's assistance and voila! You'd be amazed at how many bad things I've done. Everyone sends their love, of course. Are there any stores down here? This room is so boring," she changes the subject.

"No, I mean why are you dead? You're supposed to be alive."

"I died three hours and twenty three minutes after you. Heart attack. Monica told me about you dying. No one else would." That was a very bad time when he was dead and she wasn't.

"Does this mean-"

"No, you are not responsible for my death. If anything, I'm responsible for yours. I'm sorry, more than you'll ever know," Carly tells him, eyes welling up with tears.

"You're not responsible. I got shot. It happens." Way too nonchalant for death.

"Because you were defending me, like always. Seriously, take a nice vacation off of that and start using your survival instincts. I don't have Emily to help me this time if I need to transfer afterlives."

"I was defending the business."

"Bullshit. I told you Vince threatened me and you already planned to kill him. You saw your opportunity and instead of shooting him, you got shot and died. This is my fault, 100%, and I will not let you make me feel better about this. You could've patched things up with Britt, hung out with a bunch of people but no, you had to die protecting me. Take a week off of being my hero, please."

"I'm not going to do that. The last time I thought about it, you took over the business."

"Well I can't just ask you to forgive me, so take a day off."

"You'll get kidnapped. And I don't hold you responsible because it was my choice to defend you and my choice to want to kill Vince."

"You're overprotective and it's nice but not when it kills you."

"You spent twenty five years running off every woman in my life because you were convinced they'd hurt me, you hated a ton of people because they did something to me and you almost committed several felonies. And I'm overprotective," he rolls his eyes.

"Not the point, first off and second, you've killed and kidnapped for me. In a very fucked up way, it's sweet. And you totally ran off the men in my life!"

"How did I do that?"

"By being the only person I can depend on. I don't know, look, they've all- except for Sonny, most of the time- hated you because you intimidated them. So you did the same thing, just not on purpose."

"Then it's not the same thing."

"How did we get so off topic? I'm sorry for being the reason you're dead. Do you forgive me?" Strange sentences.

"You're not why I'm dead, I made that choice-"

"You chose to die?"

"I meant the choice to jump in front of you."

"Which was instinctual, you've always protected me."

"Might have to do that even more down here. There's some real creeps."

"I really don't think they'll care that much. But okay."

"Vince is here."

"No revenge."

"He killed you and I'm just supposed to sit here and ignore that he did that?!"

"Maybe we can talk this all out."

"Carly, what part of this aren't you understanding? He killed you. I hurt him, that's how this works, so he knows better than to mess with you."

"Or we could go shop for decor. I'll pick out nice stuff, come on let's go!"

"I'm not going shopping. I'm planning revenge."

"It'll be safer if you're there with me."

"I hate it when you're right."

"Love you too."

"Love you."

The end fuckers :)

oh it's beautiful. thank you for this

[weirdponytail]

MIC!Arya and the Infamous Tarnag Temple Argument in IC Canon (AKA Modern Inheritance’s Take on Trauma, Religion, and Arya F***ing Apologizing)

Everyone gives Canon!Arya shit for the scene in the books where she gives Gannel shit in his own temple for having religion. I agree that it’s a bad moment for her character. I also feel it comes out of left field for Arya’s character up to that point but I’ll get smacked from here to the core mantle boundary for that by some of the fandom. I digress. This is very much not about my feelings on the canon version.

Let’s move on to how it might go for my Modern Inheritance!Arya and my version of events. 

A lot of what I write about in MIC is trauma related. Arya’s one of the easiest characters for me to write for in that regard for obvious reasons, and because I’ve shaped my mental picture of her over the years so she’s the one I have the most practice with. Please note that usually when I go to bat for Arya I tend to get my MIC version of her muddled in with canon, so I apologize for any sharp words, brow beating, etc. Anyway...what was I talking about? OH RIGHT, TRAUMA AND THAT WHOLE TARNAG THING. 

So just to further stress, this is Modern Inheritance/MIC right now. 

Arya’s coming off from a hell of a time. You don’t exactly process deaths of loved ones very well while being tortured, and while she’s juggling all that plus two near death experiences that occurred probably within a week of each other, Eragon nearly dying and his back spasms, the guy that tortured her and killed her best friend and her mate is dead but she didn’t get to have a swing at him, mentally preparing to face her queen/mother, the ‘a whole clan now wants to murder Saphira and Eragon’ situation, civil unrest in the city they’re in, just Brom being Brom, physical stresses from the whole *waves hands at previous paragraph*, she’s suddenly reminded that hey...the dwarves and humans have something that elves don’t. 

What’s that? Religion. And what usually comes with a religion? 

The concept of an afterlife. The general idea that when someone dies they have not really left. The comfort that if you pray, meditate, visit a grave, do something special to you/your faith then you can make a connection to your lost loved ones and friends. The promise that even though they’ve left this world, they’re still looking out for you. And one day you’ll see them again. The separation is only brief. 

And damn. Right then, that hurts for Arya. It’s like being kicked while you’re down. 

TMI and on but off topic: My mother died when I was 12. She had a progressive neural disease which pretty much destroyed her mentally and physically over the course of a year or so. During that year, there were a bunch of ‘spiritual’ people coming over. Not mainstream religion types, but still. 

I hated them with a passion. I hated them, the stuff they said about any type of afterlife or spirituality, prayer, the idea that the dead were not all gone, I fucking HATED that bumper sticker that says ‘if anything can go well, it will’ because ho BOY did that say something for the shit I was seeing and going through at the time. 

I had been agnostic bordering on atheist before but this was the nail in it for me. After mom finally died I was a real sourpuss/snarky little shit whenever religion came up. I insulted every religion any time it came up. I shut down anything having to do with my mom ‘watching over me’ or ‘being with me/us in spirit.’ 

It took me years to understand it. I was angry because I couldn’t bring myself to believe that after all the shit I saw, the pain my dad went through, that I went through, and the whole year of watching a bright, loving, intelligent woman that was my whole world turn to a fully paralyzed drooling mess with mood swings and no voice besides a pained moan...that there was any sort of god or spiritual energy or other bullshit out there. Because then why would it happen? And why to her? People say that ‘well if there is a god then why does war/famine/assault/torture/disease/etc. happen?’ but when it happens to you, and you were already teetering on the edge of ‘does it or does it not, maybe there is something out there…’ it’s like being smacked in the face with a shovel. 

I’ve got nothing against religion now, as long as it isn’t toxic or manipulative, etc. But I can see where Arya would be coming from. 

Because deep down, Arya sees what the dwarves have. This comfort in thinking that the dead aren’t all gone, and that all it takes is reaching out to them to share thoughts and feelings, and that you’ll see them again. 

And she wants that too. She wants it so badly. She envies their ability to think that way, to simply have faith in what they cannot see. She wants to talk to Fäolin and Glenwing (who is still alive in MIC but at this point she doesn’t know that) again, she wants to tell them that she misses them and that Eragon and Saphira exist and their deaths weren’t for nothing and tell them all the things unsaid...but no matter how much she wants to, she can’t get past everything thats happened in the past 6+ months and her own cultural beliefs. 

It hurts. She can’t think of anything else to say past the hurt and so she lashes out like I did. She doesn’t understand why really, but knows that religion and afterlives and all of it just make her...angry. Because what else could that cold rock in her chest be?

In MIC, Arya is not as stubborn when it comes to atheism or other cultures. Before the ambush, she frequently asked questions about the dwarvish religion, not exactly realizing that her questions could be considered more of ‘you dare question the faith’ than ‘so wait what if this happens? Do you still get to go to the afterlife? But what about when you feel a mind die? Where does it go?’ innocent type questions that come from curiosity. She still has the feeling that the money donated to religions could go to better places, but also realizes that sometimes the religions actually send said donations TO those places/the needy, and that structures/art/etc that were built long ago do kinda need upkeep. So instead of being a dick about it, when the dwarves at the temple bluntly tell her ‘would you shut up and leave already we don’t want to answer your questions’ she adds a cheeky ‘sure I’ll go as long as you donate to the Varden’s current fundraiser’ and goes on her way when they agree to donate.

But Arya still blatantly crosses a line by confronting Gannel rather sharply about her newfound feelings on religion while Eragon is there. She’s been following them as Eragon’s bodyguard (why the HELL did canon!Arya leave Eragon alone, even in a temple full of warrior monks, wheN A WHOLE CLAN WAS TRYING TO KILL HIM?!)  and she doesn’t even realize that she’s said anything until Eragon looks back at her like ‘ooooh nooooooOO ARYA WHAT THE HELL?! WAS THAT?!’ and she sees that the back of Gannel’s head is turning purple with rage. 

Eragon manages to extricate himself from it all and meet up with Saphira, and after a rather...heated...uh…”discussion,” Gannel finally flames that while Arya’s questions before pushed the limit, this was beyond unacceptable and asks what the fuck is wrong with her. Arya just storms out.

Arya comes back to the temple later that night, asks for Gannel, and pretty much kneels down and puts her forehead on the floor in front of him (MIC elves do this only when they realize they REALLY fucked up and use this stance as an open way of saying that they fucked up, apologize, and will accept the consequences) with a sincere apology for her earlier conduct. Honestly, her ear is still red from where Brom had twisted it when he caught wind of what she had done, but she’s not apologizing just because of that. 

She wants to learn how to pray. 

Not to a god or spirit, but how to talk to the ones she’s lost. The idea of religion giving a false sense of hope still hurts and angers her...but she’s realized that maybe there’s a reason why it can bring comfort. 

Gannel awkwardly explains that a way to get started is to simply speak aloud, as if talking to someone that isn’t there. When he realizes Arya isn’t pulling his leg or going to go off on him again, he decides to give her the ‘how to talk to dead people’ primer course over some mead and does his best to keep the more hard religion stuff out of it. As a priest/monk, he’s used to consoling people who have lost family and loved ones. He can pick up the signs easily enough...when the person isn’t ready to punch a hole in his fancy history wall. 

As she leaves, Arya apologizes again. 

And prods Gannel to donate to the Varden’s current fundraiser. 

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Whenever Danny went to the past and was seen by others, the moment he came back to the present there were these weird threads sticking to him.  they didn't seem to do anything and nothing bad was happening - heck he felt stronger every time he saw new ones actually.  Still, he was curious as to what they were.

It started when Danny first came back from the Infinimap event. He felt the tug and pull of something on his core, some kind of… tingling? He wasn’t sure how to explain it. But among the whole ‘the Infinite Realms both do and do not exist at every feasible and non-feasible point in space and time across the whole multiverse’ revelation it wasn’t exactly something that Danny was focusing on. Instead, he was making sure Sam and Tucker’s heads didn’t explode with jokes to distract them. “Thanks for eating your veggies for the first time in your whole life, Tuck.”

Tucker rolled his eyes and elbowed him in his ribs. “Yeah, you owe me for that. I’ll take all your best copies of videogames.”

“How about you name three videogames and I’ll get them for you,” Sam countered. “You really did save our butts back there. And so did you, Danny.”

“Yeah yeah, who else is gonna do it if I don’t?” They laughed, there was ribbing, and the day went on.

After that, however, Danny found himself stumbling through natural portals more and more often whenever he went into the Zone. they lead to the past, often, and he found himself helping people out as much as he could before another portal could be found and he could find his way back to the Fenton Portal or at least to Frostbite or Dora or wherever he’d been planning to go. Tucker and Sam, of course, got caught up in it too. That wasn’t even the weirdest part though.

Every time Danny returned to the present day after a time-traveling shenanigan he felt stronger. As soon as he set foot on Earth, blue and silver threads of light reached out from him into the world, pulsing with energy, and Danny felt less tired, less weighed down by everything. He’d explained it to Sam and Tucker and saw that he even had these threads leading to them, though the strands leading to them were different. Tucker’s was golden and silver and UV orange, while Sam’s was green and silver and black. There was even one leading back to Jazz, violet and white and blurple. Sam said Blurple wasn’t a color, but Danny said that she couldn’t see in Ultra Violet so she didn’t get to name the colors in the spectrum. She bought a blacklight soon after.

The oddest thing, however, was when he saw people in the street walking to the Nasty Burger or to the library or park that the strings connected to. Usually, the blue ones, though sometimes it was the silver ones. When he passed by one such person, a guy in black pants and white jacket with sunglasses on, Danny reached out to wrap his fingers around that thread between them and narrowed his eyes when it felt like a tangible thing. So he pulled on it. The man stumbled a bit, lifting his sunglasses to look around - mostly up at the sky - and Danny snickered. Once he was a distance away from the man he started tugging on the other strings, gently at first but then he got curious. One of the blue threads held an extra green sparkle to it, and Danny weighed his choices and options carefully, making the most educa- he yanked on the glowing green invisible string coming from his core out into the world to see what happened.

The air in front of him twisted, light shifting around until it was purple and green and everything in between and a guy with pale green skin, oily purple hair and bright green eyes fell through the portal, floating over the sidewalk in an outfit befitting the 70s more than it did the millennium. The portal hovered open behind him and everyone on the sidewalk stopped, staring at the ghost, who was staring at Danny slackjawed and wide-eyed. “I’m gonna ask that you please go back into the Realms, I really don’t wanna deal with this right now.” More gazes shifted to Danny for that but really, he had to try to solve his problems with words at least once or twice, right?

The ghost looked down at the thread between them - wonderful, ghosts could see that, that was just fanfreakintastic - and then back up at Danny. Then he nodded, seemingly in shock, and floated backwards into the portal from whence he came. It snapped closed behind him and Danny blinked a couple of times. “I didn’t think asking nicely would work. I’ll have to tell Mom about that.” Now, Danny simply had to perform the task of becoming metaphorically invisible instead of literally. This proved difficult, however, as everyone ID’d him as The Fenton Kid pretty easily. He pulled out his phone, dialed Tucker, and ignored the stares best he could.

After the mishap in the streets, Danny noticed a new thread form in real-time, blue and sharply visible, as though daring him not to see it. When he got to school the next day, he saw that it lead back to Dash fucking Baxter of all people - who was showing off something as usual. When the trio made it through enough of the crowd to see what Dash had done that connected Danny to him like that, they saw a tattoo of Danny’s DP symbol inked onto reddish-pink raw skin. Danny let out a hum and wrapped his fingers around that string, tugging gently and watching as the tattoo glowed bright enough for everyone to see it. “Holy shit, I just felt that. It’s like Phantom pulled on me!”

“Whoa, dude! What if like, wearing Phantom’s symbol connects you to him somehow?” Oh, how Danny hated that Kwan was so much smarter than Dash and yet so easily lead by him. “Oh, hey, maybe you can like, pull back?”

“Perhaps if I get a tattoo myself then my ghost boy will always know where I am so that he can find me for a date!”

Danny would’ve paid any mind to the rest of the chatter around Dash had he not been floored by a tug from the other side of this newfound and unwanted connection. Warmth appreciation caution excitement echoed like words in a cave, searching for someone to hear but not close enough to truly communicate. Danny took a deep breath, holding onto Tucker’s shoulder for support, and carefully pulled his attention away from Dash trying to get it. “Save me.”

“They’re gonna start a cult,” Sam said with poorly concealed mirth. “Oh my gosh, this is going to spiral disastrously out of control and it’ll be hilarious.”

“Sam, I’m about to have a bunch of jock thoughts beamed into my head, and you’re laughing at me.” He sighed, rolling his eyes. “With my luck, they’ll try and make an official religion around me.”

Tucker snorted and shook his head, tapping away at his PDA. “Ya know what’d be really funny? What if all those extra threads are like, cults that worship you?” Tucker laughed at the idea, and Danny did too for a moment, elbowing him gently in the side. Sam, however, was not laughing, and once Danny noticed that he stopped laughing as well.

“Sam?”

“You said that you first saw these threads when we went time traveling around, right?”

“Yeah, every time we go to the past and someone sees us do stuff there’s more weird strings. They don’t pop up when we come back and didn’t get caught though.”

“So when you and Vlad fought over Rome and burned it down, and fought in that one temple and near destroyed it…”

“Oh, holy shit. Hold on Sam, I gotta check.” Tucker tapped away at his PDA at speeds that Sam informed Danny were not normal. He wanted to pretend he didn’t understand what they were getting at, revel in the bliss of ignorance and all that, but he was getting less oblivious these days - he was he swore.

“Guys, the cult joke isn’t going too far now, is it?” Tucker hummed at him, and Sam started walking toward class, dragging them both behind her. “Guys, this isn’t funny anymore!” Honestly, Danny had every right to be whiny about this. He fought eldritch abominations every day, he didn’t need to have a cult to deal with too.

“Wow, that’s a lotta results. You’ve been seen in the past by a lot of people - me n Sam too. Maybe that ghost you summoned was like, one of your cultists who died?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Sam half sang. “Someone’s gotta hold a seance and ask a ghost a question.”

“Sam, please, we’ve asked enough ghosts enough questions without dragging them here from their afterlives.” His friends were laughing at him now, which lead to yet pettier whines. “What would I even do about this if I have a cult?”

[kathyprior4200]

Helluva Boss Episode Remakes!

 Not too far away from Pentagram City lay a shady place in the bowels of Hell. “Welcome to Imp City: est. 1981” was posted on a worn wooden sign with a white painted eye toward the top. Under a crimson sky, a wide array of buildings made up the city, some with spikes on the roofs. Downtrodden imps of various colors and sizes mulled around the streets and ghettos. Mugging, sex, drugs, poverty, and murder were common aspects of their everyday afterlives. Indeed, being considered “lesser demons” and the “lowest of the low,” not very many had opportunities granted to them.

 Well, save for a unique family of imps, trying to get their business running.

 Just who were these imps?

 A nearby screen showed old fashioned numbers ticking down, 3, 2, and 1. Blitzo, a red and white faced imp, appeared on stage in front of purple open curtains. “Hi there! I’m Blitzo! The “O” is silent, and I’m the founder of I.M.P.!” He put out his hand and the logo appeared above it. The “M” in I.M.P. looked like imp horns, black and white in color. Down below were the words “Immediate Murder Professionals.”

 Blitzo spoke again. “Are you a piece of shit who got yourself sent to Hell?”

 A picture of Blitzo with a mustache and two black top hats over his horns was grinning evilly as a building burned in the background. The sign nearby read “Orphanage for elderly, blind, and newborn dogs.”

 “Or are you an innocent soul who just happened to get fucked over by someone else?”

 The next image showed Blitzo in a white angel costume, happily throwing away a Styrofoam coffee cup in a wastepaper basket instead of a recycling bin in an office.

 In the next shot, Blitzo held up a sign which read “Some guy who hired us!” A buff horned red demon wearing a white Ohio shirt stood not too far from the camera, a 666 News billboard in the background. He punched one fist into his hand.

 “After lovingly killing my wife for fucking a delivery man, you can imagine my surprise when I wound down here, after the state of Ohio killed me. I really wish I could stick it to that yappy jogger who saw me hiding the body.”

 Blitzo appeared again, this time with his fellow imps Millie and Moxxie in the background. A white-clothed altar with a mirror and skulls on it was in the very back. White candles were spread around the room. The two imps were sitting at a pentagram drawn on the floor. Blitzo held a blue Satanic ritual book in his hand.

 “Well, luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world…”

 He waved his hand and a flaming portal appeared in the center of the room, causing Moxxie and Millie to scatter.

 “…we can help you take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who screwed you over when you were alive!” He happily fell through the portal on his back like it was a mosh pit.

 Then the musical jingle started:

 “When you want somebody gone

And you don’t wanna wait too long

Call the Immediate Murder Professionals”

  “Hand grenade or cyanide

We’ll make it look like suicide

The Immediate Murder Professionals”

 “We do our job so well

‘Cause we come straight up from Hell…”

 “We’ll kill your husband or you wife

We’ll even let you keep the knife,

 The Immediate…Murder…Professionals.

 Kids die for freeee!”

  A white person appeared with a thought bubble of his enemy with a red x. A demon fell to the floor and the person looked up. The I.M.P. logo appeared, silhouettes of Millie with a spear, Moxxie with a gun and Blitzo in the middle, spreading out his arms to make an “M.”

 Fast paced shots flashed through the ad.

 Moxxie throwing a grenade out a window as his companions grinned.

 Blitzo hanging a person in an office building while Moxxie watched. Millie held a suicide note in her hand.

 Then more killing scenes flashed: Blitzo electrocuting a person, Millie using a mace, Moxxie choking his victim.

 Blitzo led the way through a portal to Earth, Millie and Moxxie following. Moxxie tripped on a book and landed on his face while the others posed. They then stood up shocked…at the people in a church staring at them in confusion.

 Millie killed a naked couple with a chainsaw while Blitzo looked greedily at a woman’s underwear.

 Blitzo repeatedly stabbed someone else tied up near a “Blitzo show” sign at a circus.

 The three imps used more methods to kill Earthlings: Medieval torture racks, shark attacks, fire and gasoline on someone, pillow suffocation, crushing someone to death with a grand piano, the electric chair for a prisoner…

 “Kids die for freeeee!” ended the ad.

 Moxxie and Millie sang a murder love song in their living room before the meeting. Moxxie played on his purple demon-face guitar as Millie watched him with love in her eyes. It reminded them of the good times when they would shot at demons together in the streets, drag a bloody sack behind them and when Millie got a grenade as a present and used it to blow up a building.

  “Oh what a thrill when the crimson starts to spill

And my Millie goes in for the kill

She takes away my breath

She’s the angel of death for me

Oh Millie

She a queen, it’s like a dream

When I hear her victims start to scream

Get him out of the sack

She’s a maniac for me

Oh Millie

When the blood starts dripping down the sides

And the bodies start to fall from the skies

My heart skips a beat

When my Millie’s guns a blazing in the night

That’s in love

She makes the murdering fun for me”

 Both of them hummed before Moxxie finished,

  “Of all the imps in Hell…

Millie joined in, “It’s for him that I fell…

“Oh Millie.” They leaned in for a kiss.

  They paused. Moxxie yelled, while looking out the window. His boss, Blitzo was pressed against the window with a video camera. “Are you fucking filming us right now?!”

 Moxxie sighed, as a smiling Blitzo held up a sign which read “Meeting in 20 min: nice job banging yo’ wife!”

  Just before the meeting, the head imp, Blitzo walked into the receptionist room.

 “Blitz!” called Loona, the hellhound, holding a bone shaped phone in her hand. “That clingy rich asshole’s on the phone! Says it’s urgent and wants to talk to you!” Then she added in a lower voice, “Sounds a little DTFy.” (Down to Fuck)

 Blitzo spilled water on himself as he talked with Moxxie by the water cooler. “Oh god that was one time! We wouldn’t have access to the living world…if I hadn’t slept with that privileged asshole!”

 “You what?” Moxxie asked in disbelief.

 “Blitz!” Loona barked in outrage.

 “I heard you already!” Blitzo yelled. He stomped into his office and picked up his red cell phone. He played with little bobble heads of his imp coworkers, Moxxie and Millie. Signs were tacked to the wall, reading: “The Incredible Blitzo! One night only! Tickets now at the Big Top!”

 “So…” Blitzo beamed nervously, “What can I do you for this time, Stolas?”

 The owl overlord replied, lounging on his couch in a royal red robe and a crown.

 “Remember that time when I told you that a political candidate was causing problems up on Earth for a few of my associates? That he tried to convince people that global warming existed?”

 “Yes?” Blitzo answered.

 “And that it does, but more people die when nothing’s done about it? Oh, how lonely I felt.”

 “Okay well, yeah that makes sense,” Blitzo said.

 “But now…” he hooted in laughter. “There are tons of new sinners coming down here every day! I just had a feast and a murder party several nights ago. I wondered why a horde of people arrived and it’s because of a disease called the coronavirus! My, it’s the best thing to ever happen since my wedding with my queen Melody and my darling daughter Octavia’s graduation from flight school. Oh, how marvelous!”

 “Well…I’m very happy for you, sir,” Blitzo said. “I hope that…corn-ah virus does its thing.”

 Stolas sighed. “My wife wasn’t happy with me, though. She said you fell onto a cake in the middle of a lunch with her and the royal officials. What did you say to her?”

 “I said…’sorry I fucked your husband.’” He gulped.

 A tense silence.

 Blitzo examined his chest and arms. “I still have the talon scars and peck marks to prove it.”

 “And she also said that you stole one of my books, is that true?”

 “No! No way!” Blitzo lied, with a nervous laugh. “That was another imp long ago. Can I tell you how great it felt…sleeping with you?”

 “Indeed,” Stolas agreed with a contented sigh. “Your sharp horns and claws ruffling through my feathers, and my talons and beak exploring your multicolored flesh. You know what happens when I’m lonely, Blitzy?”

 “Oh, god fucking dammit…” Blitzo muttered to himself.

 Stolas’ eyes grew red. “When I’m lonely, I become hungry. And when I’m become hungry…I want to choke on that red dick of yours!  **** your ***** then lick all of your *****, before taking out your **** and **** with more teeth until you’re screaming ******** like a fucking baby!”

 Blitzo hung up the phone, the words on Stolas’ picture reading “creepy mouth: aka one night stand bird dick.” and smashed it with a rotary phone. He threw the pieces into a blender and mixed it up.

 “Eat this!” he told Loona who walked in and drank the red liquid.

 “And then you know that bridge over the freeway?” he asked.

 “Yeah?”

 “Shit off it! It’s time for the meeting, let’s go.”

  The imps currently resided in a tall office building that seemed to stand out among the other structures. Along with spikes jutting from the roof and sides, there were a pair of giant black and white imp horns attached to the sides of the building for decoration. The lights inside near the top floor were on.

 Posted on a door were the words “I.M.P. Headquarters” with “IMP Meeting in Progress” written on a piece of paper taped to the door, a smiley face off to the side.

 On a white board was a bar graph and a line graph, the line graph pointing lower at a drawing of a raging horned demon. “Fix this shit!” was written in big bold letters that took up much of the board. “Blitzo is the best, by Blitzo” was scribbled off to the side. Several tall chairs with spikes jutting from the top boarders were set near a brown table in the center of the room. A white pentagram was drawn in the center of the table.

 Up front, a black, white, and red colored imp paced back and forth, sprouting long curved striped horns: Blitzo. He wore black fingerless gloves with what looked like a yellow eye design on each glove. He was dressed in a slender navy blue business suit with light red buttons. A small round pink pin with black eyes and a stitched mouth was attached onto a red undershirt below his slender chin. What looked like a black two-clawed print mark lay over his red forehead. Along with sharp teeth, the imp has red iris eyes with yellow sclera. Like a typical devil, he also had a red pointed tail. He had four red finger-shaped claws on each hand.

 Blitzo began to speak, pacing back and forth. He looked toward his audience of two imps and a hellhound sitting on chairs around a table.

 “Alright, now I know business has been…a bit slow, lately, yes.”

 He mentioned to the board at the downward sloping line. “In fact, there seems to be less people seeking out our services; 1,056 in comparison to the 1,066 from last month. We’ve basically spiraled from the True Blue Market to that of the Raging Bull.” He pointed at the roaring demon head drawing on the board.

 “Shouldn’t it be the Bull Market is good and the Bear Market is bad?” said a voice.

 “Loona, nobody cares,” Blitzo said. He continued.

 “Any decrease could spell disaster for us, not to mention how lots of people use our services and yet look down on us.”

  Blitzo cleared his throat and spread out his hands. “It’s no one’s fault, okay? I’m not naming any names here…Moxxie.”

 Moxxie raised his eyebrows in a “what the hell?” gesture as Blitzo looked at him. The serious imp had a red face, yellow eyes, white hair framing his face and stripped horns jutting off to the sides in slight curves. He wore a large red bow-tie and a navy blue suit. White freckles were present under his eyes.

 Blitzo continued, “Now does anyone have any bright ideas on how we can get business drumming up again?”

 Millie, the bubbly imp raised her hand. She had a red face, messy black hair with a white flower patch near the top, and short black horns with faint white stripes. Her eyes were also yellow and she wore a black top, black torn pants, high heeled shoes and a little black choker around her neck. Her eyelashes extended past her face.

 Millie waved her hand and beamed, eyes shining. “What…about…a car wash?!”

 “This is Hell, Millie. No one cares about cars being clean here, okay?”

 Just then, there came a coughing from the other room. A small cyclops demon with hot pink hair with a patch of yellow opened the door and walked in. She brushed off soot from her hot pink skirt and waved at the group, who stared in surprise.

 “Hi, I’m Niffty! It’s nice to meet you. Are you part of I.M.P.?”

 “Uh yes?” Blitzo replied, unsure of what to make of this random maid.

 “Oh great, because one of my friends sent me here to investigate, he’s a busy chap, you know, and oh so dreamy!”

 She darted around the room and began removing cobwebs from the windows. “It looks like there are two men, a woman and a dog here, a nice balance.”

 Loona, the grey hellhound glared at Niffty, narrowing her red eyes. “What was that, you little shit?”

 Loona had a red cell phone in her clawed paws, the back of the phone displaying a black upside down cross. She wore a grey top with black strings in the shape of an inverted pentagram. A spiked collar was around her neck. Her pants were dark and torn, with a white crescent moon on them. Her feet were bare and her hair and tail were thick with white and dark fur.

 Niffty stopped in her tracks. “Now, did you guys need any cars to be washed?”

 Blitzo shook his head. “We don’t have any cars here, we’re broke as fuck.”

 Millie stared at Niffty and cupped her own cheeks with her hands. “Oh my Satan! She’s so adorable! Can we keep her?!”

 “No!” Moxxie and Loona said at the same time. The two workers then glared at each other.

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “We’re in the middle of a meeting right now. Do you mind?!” He pointed to the door.

 Niffty laughed nervously, “Oh okay, sorry about that, hehhehheh. I’ll be outside if you need me!”

 She scurried out of the room.

 Blitzo paused for a moment, then said, “Oh right! Ideas for our company!” He waved his hands, his eyes shining. “Ooh, what about a billboard?”

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “We can’t afford a billboard, sir.”

 Blitzo rushed over and held Moxxie in a headlock. His voice was rushed and sarcastic, “Helpful, Moxxie. Really glad you’re in the room right now.” He shoved Moxxie away.

 Blitzo stared in frustration. “Have you guys forgotten what service we provide?”

 He picked up a remote and turned on an old fashioned TV.

 After static appeared on screen, the footage showed the group killing off individuals.

 Blitzo bashing a red demon’s head with a mullet.

Moxxie shooting a blue person tied up to a chair.

Loona grabbing a red person in her mouth and shaking the person side to side like a wolf.

Millie beheading a blue person with a spear and laughing.

 Blitzo watched with a relaxed smile on his face, holding up a blue bowl of popcorn. Loona sat on the table, popping popcorn pieces into her mouth. Millie was perched on the table, enjoying the show, but Moxxie stood off to the side with a grumpy face.

 Posters hung from the walls, one showing Blitzo and his two sisters, Tilla (an imp with long black hair) and Barbie Wire (a smiling imp with ram-like horns.) It was a picture of them at a circus, the banner reading “The Amazing Imp Siblings!” Blitzo remembered the good times he had with them when they performed on stage. Barbie Wire would balance on a tightrope, holding a pole with flames on either end. Tilla tamed and evaded manticores, dragons and other beasts that were released into the arena. Blitzo would sing songs about murdering people and they would all pose and bow at the end as the crowd cheered.

 That was before Blitzo moved on to form I.M.P. recruited Moxxie and Millie, and adopted Loona.

 Blitzo moved his hand toward his chest and sighed with content. “Ahh, those were the good times.”

 Moxxie spoke up as Millie ate a piece of popcorn. “I don’t need any reminding, sir, considering you blew most of our salaries on an obnoxious TV ad last week. One that you then additionally paid to have run for a full three hours on a channel, nobody watches.”

 Blitzo turned his head, insulted. “Uh, hey, excuse me.” He stood up. “What’s “obnoxious” about a super-fun jingle, all right? It’s a fun distraction when an advertisement’s spittin’ bullshit!”

 He walked across the room.

 “People love musicals, sir,” Millie added.

 Blitzo smiled. “Exactly, Millie, and we’re basically doin’ a musical.” Blitzo did jazz hands before pointing rapidly at Moxxie with a scowl.

 “Are you gonna crush my musical theatre dreams like my dad did?” He lowered his head.

 “Sir…” Moxxie began, but his boss cut him off.

 “Because right now, all I see is just my dad’s asshole talking to me! Crushing my dreams of being who I truly am inside.” He turned his head away.

 Millie leaned in toward her husband and spoke with a teasing tone. “Are you trying to crush his dreams, Moxxie?”

 “I…what?” he asked, looking at her. Millie leaned in close and stuck out her tongue, tail curling. “I thought I knew you.” Moxxie rolled his eyes; his wife loved to annoy him.

 Blitzo turned back to Moxxie, tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe you, Moxxie. After I made you employee of the month!” He held a picture of Moxxie with his mouth open in a roar, snake tongue showing.

 Moxxie threw up his hands, “Okay, sir! I’m sorry, a commercial jingle is not comparable to musical theatre. Nobody actually likes the jingles.”

 “I liked it!” Millie pipped up.

 Moxxie turned to her, finger shaking, “Do not…do not agree with him in front of me.”

 Loona sat, bored, playing on her phone. Moxxie’s head appeared on the screen but was crushed by a weight and then blown up by a bomb. At one point his face was sliced in half as “boom!” flashed across the screen.

 “Remember when we shot that kid on Earth?” Blitzo asked.

 Moxxie got a flashback. “Oh, right. I shot that boy who was walking around licking strawberry ice cream. It was an accident. He was taken on a stretcher to the hospital.”

 The pink haired nurse had said, “Doctor, he’s not responding!”

 “Cool water, stat!” The blue-haired man had said next. He slammed water down on the boy and said, “It didn’t do anything!”

 The doctor had said, “Damn it! I’m not losing another one! “Clear!” Then they had shocked him and the boy somehow woke up with a gasp. The doctor said “Holy shit, it actually worked.”

 Millie then explained that the three of them sat in the waiting room. Blitzo read a magazine while Millie comforted Moxxie. The doctor had said to the imps, “He appears to be in stable condition, but he’ll need surgery. Now what insurance provider do you freaks have?”

 Then Blitzo asked, “The fuck is insurance?”

 Moxxie sighed, “…and then they kicked us and the boy out and we fell back into Hell.”

  A moment later, Moxxie spoke, hands forward in front of him. “I’d like to go on record and say that incident was Loona’s fault. Dispatch is supposed to give us the right info on the target. It’s very simple.”

 “Oh, sit on a dick, Moxxie,” Loona replied without looking up.

 Moxxie stuttered angrily, looking for a comeback. “You sit! Sit on…a… and the d...do your job!” He slammed his palm on the table.

 Blitzo scolded him. “Hey, now we don’t blame our screw-ups on Loona, okay? She didn’t do anything wrong!” He hugged her and nuzzled his head against her cheek, the hellhound growling at him to get off.

 Moxxie stared in disbelief. “Are you kidding me, sir? She’s awful.”

 Lonna looked at her phone. “The other day, right? I answered the puppy barking phone and said ‘Hello, I.M.P.’ Millie was yelling, ‘Loona, I got stabbed! Call Mox…’ and then I hung up. Wasn’t my problem. My Hellhound Monthly magazine was much more interesting.”

 “Don’t forget about my adoption anniversary gift I gave you,” Blitzo said, scratching his neck.

 Lonna seethed. “Don’t remind me. It wasn’t a cure for syphilis, I didn’t want it, and it so happened to be black spiders, crawling all over me!”

 “Again, I’m sorry it was spiders,” Blitzo said.

 “God damn it, apology not accepted.”

 “You should be thankful that I rescued you after your hellhound family kicked you out,” Blitzo remarked.

 Loona’s ears twitched. Millie stared nervously. “I was perfectly capable of fending for myself,” barked Loona, looking up from her phone for the first time. “There was nothing special about them, other than all the alcohol, meth and drugs they took. My parents never cared about us. I mean, they sent off my other siblings to work for other overlords and were never seen again. Perhaps I was fortunate enough to not have to deal with them.”

 Blitzo had tears in his eyes. He hugged her again. “Well, at least you’ve got me, Moxxie, and Millie as your new family!”

 Loona hid a smile and just bared her fangs. “Get off of me before I bite your face off!”

 Blitzo stepped back.

 Loona then smiled and looked at Moxxie, a look of mischief in her red eyes.

 Moxxie scowled. “Excuse me, did you just fax me an ad for weight loss the other day?”

 “No,” Loona answered. “I was busy watching the princess sing.”

 “Wha-Why…Why would anyone send me that?!” Moxxie argued.

 “Come on, you know why.” She smirked.

 “I’m not chubby, thank you very much! Not to mention, you were the one who ate my avocado salad lunch! How rude.”

 “I took it because I had the worst hangover.”

 “But why would you drink on a work night?” Millie asked.

 “I was hungover from that morning, dumbasses!” Loona said to Moxxie and Millie. “I couldn’t take your assaults. So I decided to blow some fucking steam! I kicked a baby in a carriage and caused some destruction. Felt good afterwards.”

 Blitzo mentioned to Loona. “Look, the point is, Loona is a valued member of our family and you don’t get rid of family.”

 “We aren’t a family, sir!” Moxxie pointed out. “You are the boss! We are the employees! You treat her like she’s some troubled teenager! She’s more like a meth-addicted homeless woman you let man the phone!”

 Loona flipped him the bird.

 “That is offensive!” said Blitzo, walking to the window, pulling open the blinds. “Without homeless people, I wouldn’t have half the joy and laughter I do in this life!”

  Outside, a homeless imp with a broken horn and ragged grey clothing held up a sign that read “Monee helps. Satan Bless.” An imp woman with black clothing and little bat wings blushed at Blitzo who waved and did a playful raise of eyebrows before closing the blinds.

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “While we’re on the subject of “family,” can you stop finding me and Millie outside of work?”

 “Come on, sweetie, it’s not that big a deal!” Millie said.

 Moxxie’s eyes grew wide. “Excuse me, what?! I asked you, ‘Honey, can you get the butter?’ You said, ‘sure sweetie’.”

 “Spoiler alert, the butter’s spoiled!” Blitzo added. Millie giggled.

  “He was in our fucking fridge! He was spying on me while I was asleep. And worse, he fucking filmed me and you while we were singing and about to kiss!”

 Blitzo giggled. “I still have it on camera.”

 “It’s fine, honey,” Millie replied to Moxxie, patting his shoulder. “The “spoiler alert, butter’s spoiled!” was a funny use of wordplay Blitzo used.”

 “Why was he in our fridge anyway?” Moxxie countered. “And then I was dreaming that my parents were being murdered and Blitzo interrupted it. I wanted to get back to that.”

 “I was just curious,” Blitzo responded.

 “Just. Stop. Doing. That,” Moxxie growled.

 “I don’t see what the issue is!” said Blitzo. “Is there something you don’t want me seeing?” A mischievous silly look crossed his face.

 “No!” Moxxie spat, eye twitching.

 “You a baby weiner havor?” Blitzo asked, another term for a small dick.

 Loona giggled under her breath.

Moxxie was fed up. “Sir, what you say and how you act is totally inappropriate!”

 Millie pulled him down gently. “Calm down, Mox, you’re gonna have another panic attack!”

 “I am calm!” he yelled.

 Millie rubbed his head and soothed him. “Shh, there, there.” Moxxie whimpered.

 Blitzo spoke again with a childish grin, making a hole with two fingers and tapping the opening with one finger. “Look, I don’t judge the boring couple stuff you do outside of work hours, so don’t judge me.”

 Veins popped out of Moxxie’s yellow eyes. “Oh I do judge you, sir. Quite a lot, actually.” He crossed his arms as Millie gasped in horror.

 “Mox, he’s our boss!”

 “No, no, no, it’s fine, Mills,” said Blitzo with a wave of his hand. “Your husband is just…how do I say this without being offensive…retarded.”

 “Does immaturingly insulting me make you feel better about your sad, single, life?”

 Blitzo leaned in toward Moxxie. “It actually does.”

 Loona appeared to agree, because she added to Moxxie, “The only reason you have a wife is because you’re easy to manage!”

 Moxxie gasped. She had called Moxxie submissive.

 “No he’s not, you bitch!” Millie yelled, holding up two middle fingers.

 “Do not talk to my assistant that way!” Blitzo demanded. “She’s sensitive!”

 “Yes I am!” Loona barked.

 Then a squeaky voice sounded from nearby: “You guys are all fucking assholes.”

 Everyone turned and stared at a boy wearing an orange shirt with a planet on it. He had brown hair, a blue baseball cap on and was connected to a monitor.

 Blitzo pointed at him. “Oh shut up, kid, you’re lucky to witness this.”

 Moxxie pinched his nose and sighed in frustration. “Ugh, this company is such a mess!”

 “Did someone call me?” Niffty’s voice rang from the hallway. She opened the door a crack. “I can clean up any messes you may have!”

 “No!” Moxxie called. “Go away!”

 Niffty slowly closed the door.

 An awkward silence…

 “Alright, let’s get back to talking about my outfit!” Blitzo said out of nowhere.

 “Nobody was talking about that,” Loona mentioned.

 “Which is why I’m trying to get that ball rolling. So how does it look? It’s good, right?”

 The kid pointed his finger at Blitzo. He ripped off the wires from his stomach.

 “It’s been a literal hell pretending to be paralyzed so you fuckshits wouldn’t kill me, but now? I want that. I want death. You!” he pointed to Blitzo. “You are a selfish, greedy clown. And I’m a kid! We’re supposed to like clowns…even the creepy ones!”

 Moxxie scoffed. “Hey now, that’s not very…”

 The kid cut him off. “If I wanted to hear from a spineless jackass, I’d rip out your spine and ask you some shit.”

 Moxxie shivered in fear.

 “That’s my husband you’re talking to!” Millie yelled.

 The kid snickered. “That’s your husband?! I figured you for a slut, but I didn’t know you needed dick that bad!”  

 Millie fumed at her husband being called ugly and weak. To think that she would have sex with anyone else at random…

 “And you!” The kid pointed at Loona.

 “What? What about me?” Loona asked.

 The kid crossed his arms. “Nothing. I don’t talk to dogs. I’m a cat person.”

 Loona whined.

 “Wow,” said Blitzo. “You know, kid, you kind of are a piece of shit.”

 “Yeah, after all, he’s kind of a piece of shit,” Moxxie muttered.

 A ding came from Loona’s phone. She smiled. “Oh fuck! Guys, I just got a text from our client. Guess he was the right target after all.”

 “Who?” Blitzo asked.

 “Him.”

 “Me?” asked the kid.

 “Yep,” she confirmed.

 “They wanted us to kill an actual child?” Blitzo asked.

 “That’s what they’re sayin’,” Loona said.

 Blitzo grinned and twirled a gun in his hand. His job just got more fun and easier. “Well Christ on a stick, I guess there is a god!” He fired and shot the boy in the chest. He flopped down dead in a pool of blood, smoke and sparks lingering in the air.

 Blitzo spoke about I.M.P.: “You know folks, with this company, I really wanted to prove that we’re capable of doing the same things anyone else can! Like killing people! So, from us here at the Immediate Murder Professionals group, we promise to settle your unfinished business or your money… is gone and you’re never getting it back and you can write us a bad review, but we’ll play dumb to it because it’s Hell and no one fucking cares.”

 Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie kicked the dead kid on the floor, enjoying themselves. Loona snapped a picture with her phone and recorded the scene. After the imps left with the body, Niffty came in and gasped.

 “Well, time to clean this up. What a mess!” She hummed a happy tune as she mopped up the blood at rapid speed.

 Blitzo and Moxxie wore gas masks and green suits as Blitzo sawed off the boy’s arm and Moxxie sawed his chest, organs spilling out into a sack below. Millie tossed an arm into the sack and Loona helped hold open the sack. Moxxie dropped the boy’s severed head inside and shared a loving smile with his wife.

 Etched in red graffiti on a dumpster behind them were the words “Devil,” “Hell,” “Happy Hotel,” and “I’m always chasing rainbows.” A pentagram, and wide smiles were also doodled on the surface.

 Blitzo embraced the entire group in a forceful hug, knocking the phone from Loona’s hands.

 “You know, even though this kid was a target, he’s still a child. It’s important that we’ve handled this going forward, respectfully.” He wrapped his long tail around the group, all of them smiling genuinely. For despite all their problems, they were still a company family.

 Back in the human world, a crying blonde mother wearing a pink shirt and a necklace held up a paper saying “missing boy.” Below in large letters read on the news: “Mom sucks at drawing own kid!” Words say “There is a missing boy!’ and “Yet another missing kid!”

 The mother spoke into the microphone, “Please! If anyone has seen my little Eddie, please contact us at…”

 She gasped as a sack dropped into her hands. She and the news reporter looked up to see a smiling Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie through a portal up above.

 “You’re welcome!” Blitzo called with a wave before the portal closed.

 The mother looked inside the bag and screamed. “My son! He’s dead! Noooo!”

Part One: Mrs. Mayberry

Once upon a time, there was an innocent lovely blonde teacher named Mrs. Mayberry who taught at a typical schoolhouse. She was born many years ago on July 24th.

 She taught at a red schoolhouse with a little golden bell at the top of it. “Learning is fun,” was written in bright yellow letters on the side of the building with art of colorful kites and a rainbow on it. A sign at the front read “Puppies Junior School” in sunlight. There were tall green trees and a playground off to the side. The golden bell rang for the start of the day. A blue jay and a cardinal sang from a tree branch as the teacher opened the white curtains.

 The Vivziepop lookalike woman wrote “Good morning!” in white chalk on the green blackboard.

  “Good morning!” She twirled in a dance, catching her piece of chalk. She wore a white shirt with colorful red cherries and a long blue-gray skirt. A green pendant rested on her shirt. She wore cherry earrings and round yellow glasses. Her blonde hair was tied back in a flower-like shape behind her. “Have a bright and sunny day” was written on a poster with a large smiling sun with big eyes on it. Nearby was a calendar and an old boxy computer on a desk. A white daisy was in a flower pot. “The word of the day is harmony,” was written on a schedule posted on a board behind the children sitting at desks. The orange curtains by the windows had white math symbols on it. The schedule read “math, history, reading, grammar, science, art and music” as the many school subjects for the days of the week.

 “I hope you all did your homework!” she trilled.

  The children nodded with a dance to their bodies. One boy wearing an orange shirt spun around in a stool wearing a dunce cap and he faced the wall. The class broke out randomly into song.

 “We love to do our homework and we love our teacher too!”

 The teacher sang, “And when I throw out these fun questions, you should know just what to do.”

 “Okay!” they cheered, arms in the air.

 She wrote on the board 2 + 6 = 8 and added,

“Two plus six is…”

 “Eight!” the class answered.

 “And good behavior’s…”

 “Great!” they chimed in.

 “And now it’s that part of the class when we say the time of day and date.”

 “It’s nine in the morning,” sang a blonde boy…

 “On January 8th…” added a black girl.

 “The sun is out smiling,” said a brown haired girl with a bow.

 “And it’s your husband’s birthday!” reminded the dunce boy with his tongue out.

 As the class sang “la la la,” the teacher found herself scrapping her chalk down in a line on the board. Sweat coated her forehead as the chalk was almost completely broken down. The singing was a constant drone in her head. Her right eye twitched and she turned around.

 “Oh my stars, stop singing children! Hush up now!”

 The class fell silent.

 She put a hand to her forehead. “I forgot it’s my husband’s birthday! I didn’t get him anything special.”

 The brown haired girl stood up and said, “Maybe if we call him, we could do a happy birthday surprise!”

 The teacher and kids gathered around the boxy computer. At the husband’s house, a lone sock fell on the call screen that read “wifey” on it.

 The screen turned on, and everyone gasped in disbelief.

 The teacher’s husband was in the process of having sex with another lady!

 A tie, a bra and a condom flew against the screen as they straddled naked in their bed.

 “We won’t be needing this,” a voice said as the condom hit the screen with Mrs. Mayberry’s face on the other side.

The teacher sat at her desk, looking stunned, her face turning red. The other woman was so young and beautiful. There was her husband, clad naked and showing off his muscles and parts to her.

 “Oh yeah,” the husband giggled, “Not there, not there.” They seemed to be also playing with sex toys.

 With a blank shadowed look on her face, the teacher suddenly stood up and walked away. If she wasn’t going to be able to divorce that cheating bastard…

 “Wait! Mrs. Mayberry!” called the brown haired girl. She took hold of the teacher’s hand. “Remember what you taught us…think before you act.”

 Dark thoughts suddenly festered within the woman and she gripped the girl’s neck before tossing her up in the air through the roof. She stomped out of the room and shut the door. The children ran to the window to watch as she got in her old green car and plowed through a white picket fence. “I love school” was on her license plate. The children rushed to the computer.

 The door to the bedroom was quickly pulled open.

 “Oh shit, sweetie!” said her husband, caught in the act of fucking the young lady on their master bed. “What are you doing here?”

 “Shut up, Jarold!” A newfound rage flared in her eyes. A deadly looking riffle was in her hands. She fired several shots.

 The blonde lady shrieked as Mrs. Mayberry moved closer.

 “You scream like a fish!” the teacher mentioned to the blonde haired lady.

 With a demonic yell, she brutally shot the younger woman across multiple areas of her body. Thick blood splattered everywhere.

 Her husband gasped. “Oh god, what have you done?! She had a family!”

 “We could’ve had a family!” the teacher sobbed, in a flood of despair and rage. She picked up a bullet and shot her husband square in the head. He collapsed to the floor, dead.

 “Oh god, what have I done?” she asked, frazzled, whipping away the blood from the screen. She saw her children stare in horror and disgust. “In front you all.” She broke down into tears, seeing her dead husband in a pool of blood.  She spoke her last words through sobs. “I’m so sorry my children. Don’t forget to work on your timestamps.”

 Mrs. Mayberry knew there was nothing left for her but jail time and grief. There was only one other option. With shaking hands, she shot herself in the chest with a yelp. The children fainted on the floor one by one at the traumatizing sight. The policeman took the wailing blonde lady to the hospital…and found Mrs. Mayberry’s body lying next to her husband’s on the blood-stained floor.

 The blonde lady Martha stared lovingly with a brown uncovered eye at her new muscular husband Ralphie wearing an orange plaid shirt. He had brown hair and an athlete/superhero build. Their two children stood by her bedside as she recovered. The room had bouquets of colorful flowers in every corner. Camera flashed as news reporters talked to her.

 “How does it feel to have survived such a crazy bitch?” a newswoman asked.

 “I just hope that sick woman finally found peace,” Martha drawled in her hospital bed.

 Her husband comforted her, head lowered.

 “You are so brave,” the reporter commended to Martha. “Here’s $2 million dollars!”

 The woman’s face lit up as she was handed a large golden check. “Oh thank you!” She smiled at the cameras with her husband like she was a movie star.

 The stereotypical America family lived in a house near the woods and by a lake. Martha dressed like a housewife with a long polka dot skirt. Her daughter had brown pigtails, a lavender shirt with a tie, and a red skirt, with boots. The younger boy had a beaver-skin cap, a white shirt, brown pants and camouflage boots. On the outside, they were the perfect typical family.

 “You’re a hero,” said more news people as she stood elegantly at a VNN (Vivienne News Network) podium.

 “You’re a hero, girl,” admired a brown skinned jogger with short blonde passing Martha by. Martha basked in the attention and wealth. Who knew that getting shot at would change her life for the better.

 “My mama’s a hero!” declared the son.

 “She is a hero!” The brown haired casher agreed down to him as the family went grocery shopping.

 “Ooooh…You’re a hero!” moaned her husband as he thrust his penis wildly in and out of her as they made love in their bedroom. Their walls were covered with pelvises and newspaper clippings of Martha under “local hero” headings.

 “You’re a hero,” smiled an old praying priest who stood by her at one church meeting.

 Even worse for Mayberry, a new class of children cheered, “You’re a hero!” to Martha when she taught a “How to deal with trauma 101 class.”

 “Oh you’re a hero!” another man groaned as he wildly gave her anal.

  Mrs. Mayberry woke up staring at a crimson red sky. Her form had completely changed… Mrs. Mayberry was now a purple demon with stripped curved horns on her head, wearing rectangular glasses. She wore a pale red shirt with x stitches on it, along with an eye where her pendant was. Her hair was long and white and pulled back with a black bandana. She wore a dark skirt with an upside down cross on it and heels. She also had sharp yellow teeth.

 After finding a place to live and shying out of sight from shady strangers, Mrs. Mayberry had the chance to continue her career where she left off. So she did. It took some learning and adaptation to Hell’s culture but fortunately...it was pretty simple.

 Mrs. Mayberry was soon hired at “Pentagram Penitentiary Place,” one of the top public schools in the district. It was a large school for grades K-12. The name of the school was in black letters surrounded by a red downward facing pentagram over the black front doors. “All grades in one place!” read the slogan. The building was of red-orange brick with three rows of low cracked windows facing the front. The outdoor playground consisted of rusted basketball hoops, a jungle gym, dark asphalt and a swing set that made squeaky sounds every time it was used. The slide was high up and made of metal, so that it was always painfully hot for the young demon children to slide down. A barbed wire fence with swirls of wire at the top surrounded the prison-like school.

 A bunch of middle schoolers were bouncing a demon skull around and tossing it into the basketball hoops. Little preschooler demons rough-housed on the grass-less ground, laughing. One small green dragon kept making burping sounds, emitting orange sparks much to the delight of his peers.  A dinosaur used his tail for a black eyed doll girl to use as a jump rope. There was even a little scary-go round that furry bird-like kids went on to test their flying and spin out of control in the air. One white bird crashed against the fence and slid down with a flop.

 “Loser!” taunted a bulky blue cyclops kid wearing a baseball cap. He spat on the bird’s upside-down head and laughed with his goons. An older demon with a rhino’s horn was spray-painting teal blue penises on the walls.

 “Watch your back!” he called out to a centaur who fired an arrow from a bow, startled. The green lizard demon tied to the target glanced down at the arrow that had almost gotten him in the crotch. He sighed with relief, only to have an ax lodged into his head, thrown by an orange goat teenager.

 Nearby were two purple demons with silvery snake hair sitting on a concrete window ledge, wearing blouses, sequined navy skirts and shoes. They were listening to music from their Eye-Pods. One of them was painting her nails and the other took a drag from an e-cigarette. Every kid had a multiple digit number temporarily tattooed on their necks. An E, an M and an H were before the numbers, for elementary, middle and high school. The following number indicated their grade and the last two numbers were their position in alphabetical order. K or a P next to the E stood for kindergarten and preschool.

 A loud buzzer rang at the top of the roof, signaling class starting. The children were lined up in front of their respective teachers. Mrs. Mayberry stood in front of her line of preschool demons.

 After singing a song about a demonic turtle drowning in a bathtub with the class, she counted each child as they made their way to homeroom. They all filled in and sat at their wooden desks. The demonic alphabet was listed on a nearby poster with translations into English and other languages.

 “Good morning!” Mrs. Mayberry trilled in the windowless classroom, scrapping her chalk against the blackboard before catching it with a twirl. “I hope you all did your homework.”

 The kids fearfully nodded.

 “Hmm, I don’t think you did, EP-04,” she scolded a demon boy wearing an orange shirt with no paper in front of him. “Go sit in time-out.”

 The boy groaned and sat on a stool facing the wall. The white dunce cap burned on his head.

 “The pledge of allegiance,” Mrs. Mayberry led. The class stood up with their hands on their hearts.

 “I pledge allegiance and my soul to the banner

Of His Majesty Lucifer and Her Majesty Lilith

And to the unholy Inferno

For Pentagram City

One nation under Satan

Indivisible

With liberty and chaos for all!”

 They sat back down.

 “Now let’s sing,” Mrs. Mayberry ordered.

 The demonic class broke out into song:

 “We love to do our homework and learn stuff every day.”

 “And when I throw in these hard questions, you should know just what to say,” Mrs. Mayberry sang.

 “Okay!” they cheered.

 She wrote an equation on the board. “Divide this number by…”

 “Zero!”

 “Our favorite paint is…”

 “Bloody red!”

 “And when there’s a stranger danger…”

 “You stab them in the head!” they answered, making stabbing motions with their arms.

 “A poison for a deep sleep?” she asked

 “Wormwood! Does no good!”

 “The geological components of Hell?”

 “Fire and brimstone!” added a girl.

 “If you can’t use love…”

 “Use hate!”

 “Now it’s time for us to say the day and date.”

 “Your death day was on January 8th, right?” piped up a boy in the back.

 Mrs. Mayberry stopped short. “Hush up! We don’t mention that date.” She turned to the class. “Go on.”

 “It’s 3 in the afternoon…” said a boy.

 “On October 31st,” said a green girl.

 “Hell’s heat is still hot,” said another girl, sweating.

 “Let’s watch the episode first!” reminded the dunce boy.

 The demons went “la la la” as Mrs. Mayberry stared at the board, red eyes wide.

 “Oh my suns! Stop singing children. Shut up!”

 The demons fell silent.

 “I forgot it’s the new episode! I’m supposed to be off to pursue my revenge!”

 “Maybe you could scare your enemies at a death-day party!” a girl suggested with her hands up in the air.

 Mrs. Mayberry looked at her hell-phone and saw the last seconds of an I.M.P. commercial. She stood up to walk away.

 “Wait! Mrs. Mayberry,” said a girl, taking hold of her hand. “Remember what you taught us. Act before you think.”

 Mrs. Mayberry pat her head. “I think not. Work on your timestamps and assignments, children. I’m off to pursue a little education of my own.”

 A horn-covered sub man walked in and bellowed, “200 pushups on the double! Or it’s back to your cells!”

 The demons got up from their seats and bent down to do the pushups.

 Mrs. Mayberry called a taxi outside and it drove her off.

 Up on a screen outside her window, Mrs. Mayberry saw a full commercial where she learned of an assassination company called I.M.P.

 “Hi there, I’m Blitzo, the “o” is silent and I’m the funder of I.M.P.! Are you a piece of shit that got sent to Hell? Or are you an innocent soul who just so happened to get fucked over by someone else?”

 The next shot showed a bulky red demon with horns, wearing a white Ohio shirt/jersey. A sign read, “Some guy who hired us!” The demon spoke:

 “After lovingly killing my wife for fucking a delivery man, you could imagine my surprise when I wound down here, after the State of Ohio killed me.” He rammed his meaty fists. “I really wish I could stick it to that yappy jogger who saw me hiding the body!”

 “Guess I’m not the only one who murdered my spouse,” she thought. “I’ve also never seen a guy with…such muscles before…”

 Blitzo appeared again. “Well luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world…we promise to take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who may have screwed you over when you were alive!”

 The sounds of the imp jingle motivated Mrs. Mayberry as the taxi pulled to a stop in front of the I.M.P. building. She got out, climbed up the stairs and knocked on the office door. It opened and out popped Blitzo.

 “Is this I.M.P.?” she asked.

 “Yes,” Blitzo said.

 “I figured, since I saw the commercial. I have one bad bitch that needs to be killed. And I’ve got a lot to say.”

 “Well, come on in then,” he said.

 Mrs. Mayberry paced Blitzo’s office at I.M.P. headquarters as she told her story.

  “I was a good person before it all went down,” she narrated, pacing to and fro. “I was good my entire life.”

 She continued on, adding details about her personal life. She held a cigarette in her hand. Apparently, it was easy to get into unhealthy habits in Hell.

 “You do everything right in life, play by the rules, and still get sent down here with all the Hitlers and Epsteins of the world. After one measly massacre propelled by blind rage. So that’s why I’m here. To get my revenge.”

 “I mean was she hotter?” Blitzo remarked with a smirk.

 The demon’s eyes flared red in anger, her face partially in shadow by the drawn blinds. A lemon tree was in the background with a sign that read “no whores” beside it. Blitzo casually lounged in his office chair.

 “I’m just saying I had a hard time understanding the unprompted melodrama you just spat at me, tits,” Blitzo chuckled.

 Mayberry growled and her body briefly glowed red. Her cigarette bent in her hand.

 Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Anyway I don’t think you quite understand how we’re operating down here.” He stood up and Mrs. Mayberry glared at him. “You see we take revenge on the living and it sounds like the core cast of your sitcom of a death frankly are all probably down here in Hell with you. Boop.”

 He bonked her on the nose.

 Mayberry’s pointed tail twitched, her purple claws clenched. Her skirt was torn with holes and her feet were cloven hooves. This imp guy was worse than the demonic children she taught.

 Mayberry extended her left claws. “Not all of them. That whore survived. Now they all call her a hero.”

 She continued. “Between the talk shows and bullshit donations she made so much goddamn cash. Getting shot was the best thing to happen to her.”

 Mayberry bashed her fists into the ground, creating cracks. “She’s not a hero!” Mayberry yelled, getting in close to Blitzo’s face.

 “Yeah, okay, yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Blitzo stuttered in a rapid nervous voice. He frantically pressed a red button under the desk multiple times. The red light flashed under the “Deranged Client” label on a dashboard. The other labels read, “More Coffee,” “Soiled My Pants,” “Horny Client,” “Client Giving Birth,” “Ghost,” and “Stolas.”

 Blitzo later burst through the door, followed by Mrs. Mayberry. “Guys, I’d like you to meet, our newest client!”

 The room suddenly burst into flames…Blitzo was furious. He quickly led Mrs. Mayberry outside where she hopped into a taxi to wait back home.

 “Bye and don’t worry,” called Blitzo to her, “We’ll get that skank in less than 24 hours or your first kill is free!”

 She could only hope that crazy imp and his team could do their job.

 As it turned out, Mrs. Mayberry later found out that not only had I.M.P. killed Martha, they also killed her crazy Satanic family. Mrs. Mayberry was very impressed. She held a piece of cake and laughed with the I.M.P. members for a special celebration. Millie talked about how it was okay to kill someone if they tried to kill you back.

 “That’s messed up,” mentioned Mrs. Mayberry. Then she smiled. “But I paid for it!”

 Everyone laughed again. Mrs. Mayberry felt good among her new allies. She had embraced her past at last.

 After the celebration, she got back into the taxi but instead of heading home, she headed further into town.

 There was a red Ohio demon for her to thank.

 Part Two: The Imps’ Adventure

In another room, Moxxie was holding a black and red crossbow in his hands. In front of him was a picture of a smiling family: a father, a mother, a baby and two children. His arms were shaking as the reflector hovered around the man’s crotch area.

 “Moxxie, stop shaking!” Millie chided. “You’re gonna shoot our only hellhound!”

 Loona lay on her back on a gray couch. The family picture was in one hand and her phone was in the other. On the wall were drawings of Blitzo as a horse and a drawing of Robo Fizz with an arrow sticking out from it.

 Loona spoke in a sarcastic tone, “Wow. I feel so loved here.”

 “Just take a deep breath,” Millie told Moxxie, inhaling, “and let it out.”

 “But, it’s a family,” Moxxie argued. “Under what circumstances would we ever need to kill a human family?”

 “I mean if that’s what the client wants,” Millie began.

 “Maybe like a shitty dad,” Moxxie suggested. “Or a mob family.” He spoke through his teeth, “That’s understandable.” He then spoke normally. “But to eradicate an entire innocent, seemingly innocent, upper middle class family bloodline?”

 Loona stared at the picture for a moment before pointing to Moxxie.

 “Hey! You don’t know their innocent.”

 She pointed to the boy. “This kid probably sets dogs on fire.”

 She pointed to the girl. “Maybe this girl gets off to bullying Australian kids online.”

 She pointed to the father. “And this guy…” She narrowed her eyes and spoke lower. “This guy definitely watches.”

 “Exactly!” Millie agreed. “Humans are full of secret nasties. It’s why so many of them end up here. But guilty and innocent aren’t our business, Mox.” She cupped his cheeks. “Killing who we’re paid to is our business. Choose a target.”

 She kissed him before stepping aside. Moxxie positioned his crossbow again.

 “I just think it’s a bit excessive and we could be a bit more selective, is all.”

 Just then, Blitzo barged into the room, followed by Mrs. Mayberry.

 “Guys! I want you to meet…”

 Startled, Moxxie fired the arrow and it ricocheted around the room. Millie jumped into Moxxie’s arms as the arrow hit a computer. It then flew and poked a hole in the family picture that a startled Loona held. The arrow made impact with the bottom of an eel tank, causing it to wobble dangerously. The arrow speed toward Mrs. Mayberry but Blitzo calmly caught it in one hand.

 “…our newest client!”

 The eel tank suddenly fell down, glass and water pouring onto the floor. The eels burst with electricity, casing the room to erupt in flames. Loona, Moxxie and Millie cowered in fear.

 “Dammit, Moxxie! I just bought those eels!” Blitzo yelled in anger.

 Soon, imp firefighters rushed to the scene to put out the flames as the group waited outside. The firefighters also carried the eels away to their red fire truck. Although imps were immune to fire, the buildings were not.

 Mrs. Mayberry climbed into a taxi cab.

 “Bye,” Blitzo waved, “and don’t worry, we’ll get that skank in less than twenty four hours or your first kill is free!” He waved as the taxi drove away.

 “When did we start implementing that deal?” Moxxie asked.

 Blitzo turned to glare at him. He pulled him close, holding his face.

 “When you set fire to my office in front of a…” Blitzo screamed, “client, you fucking dipshit!" He shoved Moxxie out of the way in anger. “Now someone please tell me that fancy book is still intact!”

 Loona stood against the wall, typing on her phone. “You mean our only ticket to the other side?” She pulled out a blue book from behind her. “Yeah, got it.”

 Blitzo came over to her and started to baby talk to her. “And that’s why you’re my favorite, Loony. You get a treat now.”

 He held up a dog treat in his hands, tossed it in the air and caught it with his long tongue.

 “Ew, stop it,” Loona said with disgust. Blitzo pulled the biscuit into his mouth and chewed.

 “You’re so gross!” she remarked.

  A nearby billboard with Blitzo’s face on it read with misspellings: “Goat an asshole in the living worlds!? Come to I Am Pee!!??! Make sure you put this sign up on the rite side. Don’t fuck this up. Also payment may take a couple of weeks because it cums in the mail. –Speech to text- -Blitzo”

 Millie drew a pentagram with chalk onto the wall. The pentagram glowed red and a portal to the human world appeared.

 “Aw stop it, I get enough of that from my therapist,” Blitzo told Loona before she left. He mentioned to the other imps, and moved his fist in front of him. Now let’s go lick some ass!” He pressed his hand into Moxxie’s face.

 “The expression is “kick some ass.” Blitzo,” Millie mentioned before she stepped through the portal. Blitzo let go of Moxxie’ face.

 “Mine’s better,” Blitzo said before following her.

 “Aw, fuck,” Moxxie sighed as he followed them through the portal.

 All three imps stood in front of a small red house by the lake as the sun set. Blitzo and Moxxie leaned against the side of the house, rising from the bushes. Blitzo stood up and peered into a window. A row of white flowers were on a planter on the ledge.

 “That’s gotta be her,” Blitzo whispered. He then chuckled darkly. “This is too easy.” He looked over at Moxxie. “Moxxie, do you want this one?”

 Moxxie looked stunned and smiled nervously. “Me?”

 “Yeah, this one’s simple enough for you to handle. It’s just a happy mother who just got out of the hospital.”

 Moxxie stood up and looked through the window. His face fell as he looked at the happy family enjoying dinner. A pig’s head was at the center of the table. The house was decorated with axes and guns on the walls. A lamp stand seemed to be made out of a spinal column. Ralphie and Martha affectionately rubbed each other’s noses, Martha holding a dinner platter in her hand. Moxxie hesitated; there was no way he could kill any one of them.

 “You snooze you lose, Mox!” Blitzo called out.

 He got out his gun, which was black with flames painted on it. The reflector was an upside down cross and it hovered over Martha’s face. She smiled with large doe eyes and blinked innocently.

 “And I’ve got you, bitch,” Blitzo murmured.

 “Wait, are we actually killing a family?!” Moxxie asked in disbelief.

 “No, don’t be a puss, we’re just killing a mother,” Blitzo remarked. “We’re running a family.” He grinned and clicked his rifle, positioning it.

 “But…” Moxxie began. “Hold on, hold on, let’s just think about it…”

 Moxxie lifted up the rifle just before Blitzo fired. The bullet hit a glass mirror in the house, causing the family members to gasp in fear.

 “What was that, Ralphie?” Martha asked her husband, who sat at the table.

 Ralphie shook his head. “I don’t know Martha, but whatever it is…”

 He stood up with a sharp-toothed grin, holding a rifle in his hands.

 “They’re gonna be tomorrow night’s dinner!”

 Martha set the platter down on the table, downed a glass of wine and smashed the glass on the floor.

 “Alright, kids! Gun’s out!” She called with an evil grin. The kids, too, grinned evilly as they pulled out smaller guns. The boy pulled out his from his brown beaver-skin hat.

 “Looks like we’ve got some rabbits to catch, youngins!” Ralphie said with an evil chuckle.

 Back outside, Blitzo was fuming. “What the fuck was that, Moxxie?”

 Moxxie breathed anxiously before letting out a croak, his snake-like tongue flickering. He fell to his knees, hands over his face.

 “I’m sorry. They just seemed so wholesome and happy.” Tears fell from his eyes. “I panicked.”

 Blitzo face-palmed. “Oh who the fuck is innocent, Moxxie? From the moment of birth, you’re already a parasite leeching off your momma’s tits.”

 He grabbed his chest in an imitation of holding breasts. He leaned in and poked Moxxie painfully on the head. “Now get the fuck over yourself you baby dick prick!”

 A bullet fired through the wall and shot Blitzo in the arm. He cried out as black blood splattered.

 “A new hole!” Blitzo cried in terror. “Scatter!”

 Blitzo and Millie leapt into the air just as another gunshot created a larger hole in the wall. A grinning Martha and Ralphie leapt through the hole and chased after them, guns drawn. Moxxie peered out from behind the bush, rapidly looking around. A child’s hand grabbed Moxxie’s pointed tail and he yelped. He only saw a barrage of fists from the children before passing out.

 Millie flipped backwards along a cobblestone trail before diving into the lake.

 “There you go, little critter!” Ralphie called, firing another bullet. He stepped onto the wooden dock. “Y’all can’t hide long from me!”

 Millie had her head above the water under the dock, a knife in her mouth. She broke through the dock with a crash before landing with a grin, knife at the ready. Ralphie swing a beer bottle at her, but she moved behind him out of the way. Millie jumped up in the air, knife in both hands. Ralphie swung the bottle upwards, hitting her in the head. The glass shattered and she fell to the ground with a loud yelp. Millie struggled weakly to stand, but collapsed onto the dock, eye twitching. Ralphie grinned down at her as the sky spiraled red. He picked her up and headed deep into the woods.

 Moxxie opened his eyes and gasped with a squeak to find his hands and body tied with rope. He appeared to be tied to a stitched up headless dead body sitting on a chair. Moxxie’s face fell in fear as he stared at the boy and girl in front of him. Both their eyes were red and devious grins formed on their faces.

 Moxxie tried to defuse the fear. “Oh. Hello there little ones. Aren’t you cute?”

 The children spoke in low distorted voices, the boy finishing shortly after the girl.

 “It’s nice to have a new critter to play with.”

 Moxxie glanced up in terror at a red spotlight above him. The light revealed a human head high up and several limbs on plaques. The wooden walls were stained with red blood. Tow plaques held stitched up faces of skin. A larger plaque displayed a dead man with long white hair, arms crossed, eyes and teeth bulging out. His upper chest was connected to the plaque. A picture frame made of bones displayed another face made of skin inside it. Human skin was tacked to the wall with “bless this mess” stitched onto it. Moxxie looked and saw a dead human body on a platter, an apple in its mouth. Organs were displayed in a nearby bowl.

 Moxxie took one look at the dead body and whimpered. “Aw. Crumbs.”

 Meanwhile, Blitzo was running for his life in the woods. Four gunshots rang out as Blitzo darted through a bush, leaves falling to the ground. Martha’s evil echoing laughter quickened his pace. The imp slide down a grass hill, landing on his feet. He crouched under the bushes, looking around. He panted, catching his breath.

 “I know you’re hurtin’, little devil,” drawled Martha in a sing-song voice.

 Blitzo darted behind a tree, taking in deep silent breaths. His back was pressed against the bark. He covered his mouth, not daring to move.

 “I promise that I can make that pain go real quick.”

 Martha walked through the woods, not too far away, in shadow. “Just come let Mama Martha put a bullet in that pretty little skull!”

 Blitzo sighed in relief after hearing the footsteps fade.

 Ring! Ring! Ahh!

 A startled Blitzo scrambled to retrieve his yellow cell-phone, which was ringing a yelling ringtone. He eventually caught the phone before pressing it to his ear. The phone had a GFY (Go Fuck Yourself) on it and a laughing devil emoji with imp horns.

 “This is a really bad time,” Blitzo whispered.

 At Stolas’ palace, the owl prince was currently lounging in an ornate bathtub, several lit candles with blue flames positioned around the edges. Astrological symbols glowed white in a circle on the floor. The midnight blue curtains looked like the night sky, with starry designs on them. Floating constellations hovered around the room. He was the prince of astronomy as well as being horny.

 “When isn’t it a bad time, Blitzy?” he mused, stretching his long slender arm. He held a rotary phone to his ear, the speakers shaped like sunflowers.

 Blitzo sighed in frustration. “What is it?”

 Stolas’ four red eyes blinked. “I’ve been meaning to follow up on our last conversation regarding my grimoire?”

 Blitzo’s angry face appeared in a bubble.

 “What did you just call me?” Blitzo asked. Stolas popped the bubble with a finger. “My book, Blitzy. The book I was given to do my job that I have allowed you to use to do yours?”

 Blitzo ducked as a bullet flew through the tree he was behind. Martha’s shadowy figure appeared in the hole, her eyes and mouth glowing red.

 “I can hear ya, darling!” she called out.

 “Shit,” Blitzo muttered, scurrying off.

 “Anywho,” Stolas continued. “I have been thinking. You know, I have been permitting you to access the mortal realm less than legally for quite some time now, but I do need it back to fulfil my duties. I was thinking, what if we worked out some sort of exchange?”

 He ran a finger along the edge of the tub. He then did a walking motion with his fingers as they glowed red.

 “Favors for favors? Doesn’t that sound…” He spoke seductively, “…enticing?”

 Blitzo skidded to a stop as another bullet hit a tree. He ducked behind another one and frantically whispered, “You gotta stop using your fancy-ass rich people talk, okay? I’m trying to concentrate on not getting fucked in my hay!”

 Bam!

 Another bullet hit a spot on the tree.

 “Then let me keep it simple,” Stolas explained. “Once a month, on the full moon, you return the book to me, followed by a night of…”

 His eyes glowed red, his beak open in lust…

 “…passionate fornication.” He briefly slid lower in the tub with a blush before rising up to lean against the tub.

 “And…you get to keep it the rest of the time. Sound fair my little imp?”

 “Fine, whatever!” Blitzo replied.

 Blitzo let out a happy sigh. “Oh Blitzy! I’m so excited! I cannot wait to fill your slimy **** inside of my *****…”

 Blitzo cringed as Blitzo went on about the sexual things he planned to do to him.

 Out of nowhere, Blitzo found himself being pinned against the tree by the bottom handle of Martha’s gun.

 “Got ya!” she grinned. Bltzo’s phone was on the ground, Stolas still talking.

 “So, you’re a little devil, huh?” she asked, a wide grin. “Come to drag me and my kin to Hell? Well not today, Satan!”

 She pressed the gun further into Blitzo. “Gonna send y’all back where ya came from!”

 She hit Blitzo hard and he slumped to the ground. She took him and headed off into the woods.

 Back at the house, Moxxie struggled to free his tied up hands and body. In the reflection of the window, he could see the orange yellow lights of fires. He gasped.

 “Millie!”

 The two kids stared deviously at him. He froze when the girl revealed a long sharp knife in her hands. Moxxie glared, determined. As the girl raised the knife, Moxxie shoved her backwards with the chair. There was a thud as the chair toppled over onto the floor. Moxxie grabbed the knife and cut the rope loose, freeing himself. A “Live, Laugh, Love” sign and a hangman’s noose hung from the wall. Moxxie burst through the round window, a shadow silhouette with glowing yellow eyes. Wasting no time, he raced into the woods and toward rows of torches. Hanging from the trees were red Satanic symbols. There were also tents around the area.

 A full moon appeared in the sky from behind thin clouds. Down below, Blitzo and Millie were tied to a stake decorated with black spikes at the top. Ralphie laughed as he poured gasoline onto the ground by their feet. Martha stood nearby, holding a torch in her left hand. Her blouse was torn and low cut, with polka dots on them. Her eyes were red and she wore skull earrings.

 Blitzo groaned in frustration. “I had that fucking shot. God dammit, Moxxie.”

 “Satan!” Martha declared. “We return your filthy creatures back to the pits of Hell!” She raised her torch. “May the root of evil remain honored as we continue thy work!”

 Martha tossed the torch underneath Blitzo and Moxxie, who still struggled to free themselves. Ralphie laughed again. The stake soon lit up in flames…

 …leaving the imps unscathed.

 “Yeah, that’s not exactly how it works, lady,” Blitzo explained. “Sorry, your fire doesn’t really hurt us, but I mean I could fake it if that’ll get your dick hard.” He smirked and Millie giggled.

 “Oh. Shit.” Martha stared confused and rolled her eyes. “I don’t have one.”

 Then she got a better idea and grinned. “Well, I’ll just shoot you in your smart-ass mouth!” She held her rifle in her hands.

 “That would be more effective,” Blitzo mentioned.

 “Blitzo!” Millie spat.

 Martha laughed again as she raised the rifle, two barrels pointing at the imps. The imps closed their eyes and flinched.

 A loud bang and a yelp was heard. Martha’s eyeball flew from her socket and she collapsed to the ground.

 “Moxxie!” Millie cried, seeing Moxxie hold a gun in his hands. Moxxie raced over and untied Millie and Blitzo.

 “You’re not getting your goddam paycheck for this one, Mox!” Blitzo mentioned before he fell down. Moxxie and Millie embraced each other with small smiles. They slowly moved their heads against each other in affection. Ralphie tripped over Martha’s body before fleeing the scene.

 “Oh yeah, thanks! I’m fine!” Blitzo spoke out in sarcasm.

 Moxxie helped Blitzo up, supporting him.

 “I’m sorry, sir. I compromised our objective and put us in harm’s way. It won’t happen again. I promise.”

 Blitzo pulled Moxxie into a hug. “Apology accepted.” Then he spoke to Moxxie in a low threatening voice. “But if you ever pull off a stunt like this again, I’ll fuck you and your wife.”

 Just as fast, Blitzo separated from Moxxie and announced, “Alrighty! Job well done! Now let’s get off.” Millie lifted her arms in a cheer. From his chest, Blitzo pulled out a gray horse figure with a back mane like a My Little Pony toy. He put it back and retrieved his cell phone.

 “Eh. Yeah give me a moment. I need to get something I left at the house,” Moxxie said.

 “Okay, fine but hurry up,” Blitzo said. He put his cell phone to his ear and spoke loudly, “Loona! We’re ready to come home, dear!”

 Moxxie raced through the woods, determined to set things right. In the background, Stolas was talking to Blitzo, mentioning, “You and I on…peanut butter and jelly sandwiches all night.”

 Back inside the house, the boy and girl were in their father’s arms in a corner.

 “Don’t move!” Moxxie demanded, pointing his rifle at them. The boy and girl looked scared and innocent. The girl even had a dark gray stitched up teddy bear with her.

 Ralphie chucked. “What are you gonna do, little guy? Kill us?”

 “I should!” Moxxie replied, stepping back. “You people are monsters!” Then he lowered the rifle. “But… you should have a chance at a life and a purpose. Look at your children. They have their whole future ahead of them! You are going to face your crimes, justly.”

 He picked up a remote from a stand. “I am calling your earthly authorities and they will make sure you are dealt with, fairly. I am handing this, my way.”

 He pressed a button and a television turned on in the adjacent room. A black and white program played. Moxxie gasped in surprise, then looked down at it.

 “Oh shit,” he muttered. The black remote had pink and white buttons reminiscent of a smiling goofy face.

 “Uh do you…do you have a phone to summon 911?”

 “Yeah, it’s in the kitchen,” Ralphie mentioned behind him.

 Moxxie held the remote. “Then what’s this for?”

 “It’s a universal remote,” Ralphie replied. “Got it for the kids.” The kids smiled and he pulled them in a hug.

 “Aww,” Moxxie smiled, eyes shining.

 He called the police and hurried back to the portal in the dark woods.

 “There he is,” Blitzo said. “Have a good wank-off session, Moxxie?”

 “Excuse me?”

 Blitzo walked over to him. “Well I don’t care where you cum in the living world, just come to your job on time, alright?” He poked Moxxie several times for emphasis. “See you at the office!” He ran through the portal.

 Millie placed a hand on Moxxie’s cheek. “You doing okay, sweetie?”

 “Better now, honey,” Moxxie replied with a smile. “I think I just needed a minute to process.”

 Millie tenderly touched Moxxie’s chest. “You have a good heart, honey.” She playfully pinched Moxxie’s nose. “Just a fuzzy head.” She kissed him and Moxxie’s heart fluttered. He smiled happily as Millie walked through the portal.

 Moxxie heard the whirl of blades and flashes of light. He turned around. There were police cars and a helicopter in front of the house.

 A voice over a loudspeaker said, “We got em’ boys!”

 A missile fired at the roof and the entire house exploded in a fiery inferno. Something hit Moxxie in the face. He stared at the ground and found the head of the teddy bear that had flown off. He stared with a shocked look of disbelief on his face. The family that had a chance to be better was now dead.

 Blitzo grabbed Moxxie hard by the neck and pulled him through the portal.

 Later on, everyone was laughing and celebrating back at I.M.P. headquarters. They were all wearing birthday party hats. Loona and Mrs. Mayberry held slices of cake on plates. A white banner read “Killed the bitch,” in red letters. A white and blue cake sat in front of Moxxie, the blue icing read “We did it! :)” Everyone seemed joyful except for Moxxie. He still felt awful that they had killed an entire family. An evil family, but still…They had come close to being killed or caught. Now here they were celebrating human death.

 Moxxie wasn’t sure if he agreed to the “senseless killing” morals of I.M.P. anymore.

 Millie squealed for joy and hugged Moxxie tight around the neck. “Did you see my little Mox, Mox? We did it! Oh Moxxie!”

 “Well here’s to another mission accomplished,” Blitzo announced, “…and Moxxie finally learned not to fuck up.”

 Moxxie just stared wordlessly at his plate, dark circles under his eyes.

 “And killing people isn’t that big of a deal if they try to kill you back,” Millie added, rubbing Moxxie’s white head of hair.

 “That’s messed up,” said Mrs. Mayberry, “But I paid for it!”

 Everyone except Moxxie chuckled at that.

 “Yeah, fuck that family!” Blitzo declared, raising a fist.

Helluva Boss Episode Two: Loo-Loo Land

Part One: Octavia

 Hundreds of years ago in Hell…Stolas’ Palace

  Before Octavia Goetia was a 117 year old owl princess (Mentally turned seventeen supposedly August 15 2003), she was a cute little child owl living with her mother and father.

 At night, faint blue constellations illuminated against the exterior of the estate. On the lower jutting wall structure supporting a balcony, Stolas’ sigil symbol also glowed blue in the dark. The balcony itself was spacious and decorated with hanging see-through drapes along the pillars. Spirals and a few eyes were also part of the design above the pillars. Bushes were lined up in rows on an upper row above the balcony, with little rows of coffin-shaped windows behind them in another wall. The borders of the building were decorated with difference phases of the moon in gold. Finally, the double doors on the balcony were stained glass in yellow and orange, with a sun on the left and a crescent moon on the right.

 Inside the estate, three candles cast a dim teal light in the darkened master bedroom. The spacious room had a white tall couch off to the side and a rotary phone on a nearby dresser. Hanging on the wall was a mirror and several large portraits of Stolas dressed in red robes and a crown. Rows of small red banners hung around the top of the bed and four red curtains with gold royal symbols were draped tight around the bed. The bedspread matched the curtains.

 “Mommy! Daddy!”

 A child’s cry from another room roused the owl prince from his slumber. One of his red eyes opened halfway, another one a slit near the top of his dark feathery head. His face was white and heart-shaped. He turned his head to where his wife was sleeping. She was a white owl with long eyebrows that extended past her face. She was curled up in most of the blankets.

 “Via’s calling us, Stella,” Stolas groaned sleepily.

 Stella let out a sigh. “You get up,” she replied tiredly.

 Stolas sighed and rose out of bed, briefly putting his fingers to his head. He opened the door to Octavia’s bedroom. The wallpaper consisted of several columns of moons and stars. Astronomy books lined a shelf while tapped drawings on the wall showed stick figures of Stolas and Octavia, labeled “Daddy,” and “Me.” A nearby portrait showed a smiling Stolas giving an overjoyed Octavia a piggy back ride against a blue background.

 Stolas opened the white door, wearing his red housecoat and a pair of demon face slippers.

 “Dear? What troubles you, my owlet?”

 Octavia’s room was small, with a bookcase and strings of lights hanging around. A white and pink chest and telescope were decorated with stray feathers. Her bed was decorated with small stars and a pink crown on the white headboard, sparkling curtains on either side. A stuffed cat lay on the floor. A lavender blanket with yellow stars on it was currently quivering on the bed. A small frightened face popped out from under the covers: little Octavia. She wore pink jammies with white stars on them. Her face was white and her eyes were large and pink with white pupils. Three gray feathers stuck out from her feathery head and she also had a little tail.

 The little girl sobbed and climbed out of bed.

 “Daddy! Daddy!”

 She ran into her father’s arms.

 “I had a dream! A really bad dream!” Her mouth quivered in a whimper.

 Stolas scooped her up into his arms and yawned.

 “A nightmare.”

 He wiped a tear away from her face.

 Octavia spread out her arms. “I was looking all over the palace and…I couldn’t find you anywhere! You weren’t there!”

 Tears appeared from her eyes and she hugged her father around the neck.

 “There, there, Via. It’s okay; you’re okay.”

 He pat her several times on the back and carried her into the room. A blue grimoire with a golden crescent moon on the cover floated into the room in a purple cloud of magic.

 Stolas sat down on the bed, Octavia in his lap. The book hovered next to him and he waved his hand to turn the pages. Stolas looked at Octavia.

 “When you’re sacred and you don’t know where I am, you must remember: I will never be far away from my special little Starfire.”

 He playfully poked her on the nose and she giggled.

 Stolas waved his hand and magic surrounded it. He moved his hand to the ceiling and created a starry portal above their heads. Octavia looked up with wonder in her eyes. It was then that Stolas started singing his lullaby: “You Will Be Okay.”

 “It always seems more quiet in the dark”

“It always feels so stark”

 Both of them floated upward through the hole. A brilliant indigo night sky filled with stars was revealed. A small bright sun and a distant ringed planet hovered in the distance. Stolas stood on the surface of a large white moon dotted with craters of various sizes.

 “How silence grows under the moon

Constellations gone so soon”

 Stolas’ feet made talon bird tracks on the surface as he carried his daughter.

 “I used to think that I was bold

I used to think love would be fun

Now all my stories have been told

Except for one”

 Stolas looked down at Octavia’s innocent eyes as their faces shone from the pinkish light of the nearby star. Octavia was the ongoing part of his life that Stolas continued to live for, day by day. In all the centuries of his long life, no sexual conquests, no battles nor royal duties could compare with the unique experience of raising a child. In a sea of constellations, Octavia was a guiding light to a greater purpose.

 The ringed planet hovered beside another planet bathed in purple-pink light. A rocky meteor caught on fire and soared toward a molten planet.

 “As the stars start to align

I hope you take it as a sign

That you’ll be okay”

 Stolas sat down on a small rock and held his daughter close.

 “Everything will be okay.”

 The meteor slowly dipped into the molten planet, turning a fiery orange. The meteor broke through the planet, causing it to break into rocky pieces. Stolas and Octavia sat on a floating chunk of rock as light burst upward from between the gaps of the planet debris.

 “And if the Seven rings collapse

Although the day could be my last

You will be okay. When I’m gone you’ll be okay…”

 Octavia yawned and nestled into her father’s feathery chest with a small smile on her sleepy face. Stolas knew that even a powerful demon like himself could not live forever. Angelic weapons could kill both Hell-born and Sinners in Hell. The higher class Hell-born could respawn like the Sinners but unlike the dead previous humans, the Hell-born aged slowly and could die of natural causes like mortals.

 Stolas was a part of a powerful ancient clan of demons, one of the first in Hell. The Ars Goetia brothers in arms were very numerous and powerful…desirable targets for enemies like Valentino and the lot. The family living for so many years didn’t lessen the potential sadness that permanent death would bring.

 Like any good parent, Stolas wanted what was best for his child; to pass down some existential knowledge for her to remember later on.

 “And when creation goes to die

You can find me in the sky”

 Seven planets flew toward the sun, creating powerful impacts. The planets turned ashen black before everything burst into an explosion of light. Stolas’ vocalizing face was illuminated by the large pink smoke from the galactic explosion.

 Tears pooled in Stolas’ eyes as the portal closed behind him, now back in the bedroom. A red and gold metallic model of a solar system hung from the back wall. Stolas lifted the starry blanket and draped it over a sleeping Octavia.

 “Upon the last day

And you will be okay…”

 Stolas walked toward the door, looking at her lovingly again before closing it. Octavia slept peacefully in her bed like a happy chick in a nest.

   Stolas’ palace, Dec 9 2020, present day

 Octavia jolted awake suddenly, her pink eyes angular with constricted white pupils. Her hand rested by her face. Her eyes narrowed in anger, her fist clenched as piercing yelling from another room echoed off the walls.

 Her parents were having yet another fight.

 She got out her phone and texted Loona: “Parents fighting again. Fuck my life.”

 Loona replied: “Srry 2 hear that. Currently dealing with asshole boss and Moxxie the dick. Hang out at concert Friday?”

 Octavia: “Hope so. Mom has grudge against imps and hellhounds, what a royal bitch.”

 Loona: “Smh. Hang in there, my friend.”

 Octavia knew that her regal mother, Stella was pissed that Stolas had fucked the imp Blitzo behind her back. Octavia often worried that Stolas would go on some honeymoon with that creature and leave her behind with Stella. Stella wasn’t cruel but she was sterner than Stolas was. Octavia didn’t know which was worse, her father’s childish attitude laced with a perverted nature…or her mother’s cold critiques of Octavia’s behavior. Stella loved her but expected her to mold into the royal role she was given from birth. Stella was more concerned with tea parties, fashionable attire and her appearance than Octavia’s many thoughts.

 Currently, Octavia was just a typical emo/goth teenager who had to deal with a lot of stuff going on.  

 Octavia’s room was different as well. More spacious, it had a couple of slanted windows between purple drawn curtains that let in some light. A solar system mobile hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. A mirror hung on the wall along with several banners with suns and moons on them. A long couch in the style of white feathers sat off to the side, complete with comfy cushions and pillows. There was a smaller purple telescope as well. Her bed still had the sparkling starry drapes and above that, were hanging purple drapes with a small moon on it and a large pink eye at the very top. Her bedspread was midnight blue with crescent moons on them and the chest by her bed was plainer than before.

 Octavia sat up in bed, with her feathers ruffled, quite literally as well as figuratively. With a grumpy look on her face, Octavia inserted earphones into her ears and held a blue phone in her hand, decorated with a yellow crescent moon. Octavia got dressed in her usual pink shirt with stars on it, black pants, shoes and a crown on her head.

 A playlist of songs appeared, the majority of them were by My Chemical Romance and some were by Lilith. An icon with flames and a sad face appeared on the screen and she pressed the play icon. Pop music played in her ears as a person sang: “My world is burning down around me.”

 The screams grew with intensity as she got out of bed and walked down a hall lined with Venus Fly Trap plants of different colors. They were arranged in a pattern of brown, magenta and purple. One poor potted planet crashed to the floor in front of Octavia. She stepped over the mess as she continued listening.

 She could hear the vehement arguments form her parents as she walked into the spacious kitchen.

 There was her mother, Queen Stella in a white dress with the top part of her outfit a light pink. A crown was on her head and light gray feathers fanned from her head like long hair.

 “I can’t believe you slept with an imp, in our fucking bed!”

 “It was unexpected!” Stolas replied. “I didn��t have time to go to a motel!”

 Stella seethed in disgust. “A motel?! Like a fucking plebian?!” (Roman word for commoner)

 “You want to fuck this one too?!”

 In a fury, she grabbed a small white dressed imp butler and tossed him at her husband.

 Stolas flinched, holding up his hands. “No! Of course not!”

 Stella pointed a finger at him. “You are a god damn embarrassment! I’m not spending another moment looking at your pathetic, imp-sucking face!”

 Stella stormed out of the room, tossing and breaking more of Stolas’ beloved plants as she yelled.

 Stolas sighed in exasperation before turning to look at his sulking daughter who was sitting at a table with a box of cereal.

 “Good morning, Octavia!” he greeted. “Did you sleep well, my owlet?”

 “Was that a serious question?” she deadpanned as she drank coffee from a mug.

 “Mm-hmm…” Stolas began as he walked to an old fashioned white refrigerator with the royal crest on it. He opened the door and took out a slab of zebra meat on a plate. In a corner shelf was a can of soda and a cartoon of chocolate milk. In a zip-lock bag were three white dead mice for a later snack. (They are owls after all!)

 “What’s that you’re listening to?” he asked, with a snap of his fingers.

 “This song is called “My World Is Burning Down Around Me.” It’s by Fuck You Dad. It’s a band.”

 “Oh…how charming…” Stolas chuckled bemusedly. He shut the door and fed the meat to a large white potted plant in a small alcove off the kitchen as he pet it. The satisfied plant closed its three eyes. A starry calendar hung on a nearby wall.

 “So…you two done screaming for the day?” Octavia asked.

 “Um…” Stolas began as Stella let out another scream of anger along with a crash.

 Stolas walked over to Octavia, who had a box of Robo Fizz’s Greed Seed cereal next to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You know what I haven’t done in a long, long time? I haven’t taken you to your favorite place in all of Hell! Why don’t we go to Loo-Loo Land?” He mentioned to a portrait of Stolas, Stella and a happy child Octavia in a dress at an apple theme park.

 “I’m not five anymore.”

 “You always were so happy when I took you to Loo-Loo Land! What do you say we go there again, have a day, just the two of us!”

 “I’d rather kill myself,” she deadpanned.

 “There we go!” Stolas beamed, bypassing her comment. “Anything but staying in this house.” He lifted a finger. “Now, I’ll arrange our security.”

 He picked up a white rotary phone carried on a platter by the battered imp servant.

 “Security for a theme park?”

 “We are rich, and we’re hot. People want our money and our bodies!”

 “Our money, maybe,” Octavia said under her breath. Stolas rotated the dial a few times.

 “Speak for yourself, Princess. Now, I’m calling the only man who can fuck me!”

 Octavia looked with disgust, cereal falling from her hand. “What?”

 “Who can protect me! Us. Being part of the Goetia family is rather valuable, you know.” The imp collapsed.

 Octavia groaned and pulled her hat down over her eyes.

 At the I.M.P. office, there was a picture of Blitzo wrapped in a towel with the words “#1 bitch” on it, with the word “boss” in red over the letters. A paper crown rested on one corner of the picture frame.

 Blitzo played with crude representations of Moxxie and Millie made of office supplies. “Millie” was made from a stick and clips while “Moxxie” was made from an eraser.

 “Oh, Blitzo, you’re such a good boss!” Blitzo impersonated Millie. “Yeah, I really want you sir,” he impersonated Moxxie. “Me too!” he said as Millie. “Let’s three-way!” he said as himself before lowering the office puppets to his crotch. The screaming ringtone of his cell-phone interrupted his pansexual fantasy.

 “What?!” he yelled into it. He lounged in his chair, legs propped up as he drank iced coffee from a bloodstained mug. A poster with SpindleHorse on hind legs with “Wild and Free,” hung from the wall.

 “Why hello, my big-dicked Blitzy!” Stolas spoke lustfully.

 Both Blitzo and Octavia forcefully spit out their coffee.

 Blitzo spoke angrily, “What…”

 Octavia said, “The…

 Blitzo: “Fuck…”

 Octavia: “Dad?!

 “Language! Everyone!” Stolas shouted out loud before speaking into the phone. “I have a special request.”

 “Aw look,” Blitzo mentioned, “I just had a chemical peel, so you’ll have to find someone else’s face to plant that feathered ass!” He was in no mood for another intimate session.

 “It’s for my daughter.”

 A session with Stolas’ daughter? “Ah, well make sure she washes it.”

 “Oh! No! No, no, no!” Stolas cried taken aback. “I’m taking my daughter to Loo-Loo Land and I was hoping you brave little imps would accompany us.”

 “We’re assassins, not bodyguards, okay? Don’t invite us to shit unless someone’s gonna die.”

 “I’ll pay you.”

 “With what?”

 “Money.”

 “Done!” Blitzo yelled in confirmation, accidentally smashing his phone against the desk. He glanced in annoyance at the shattered pieces before producing a white megaphone with a painted monster mouth on it. He put the crown on his head.

 “M and M, get in here! We’re goin’ to Loo-Loo Land!”

 Moxxie opened the door to respond. “Loo-Loo Land?” he asked in concern. An excited Millie smashed her head through the glass window of the office door. “Loo-Loo Land!” Her eyes were shining.

 “Loo-Loo Land!” Blitzo yelled excitedly through the megaphone, his long snake-like tongue flickering.

 “Shut the fuck up!” Loona yelled from another room.

      Part Two: Loo-Loo Land

Loo-Loo Land was a knockoff apple themed park located in Mammon’s Ring of Greed. The sky was blue instead of red like it was in the Ring of Pride. Indeed, there were Seven Rings in this Hell ruled by Archdemons and named after the Seven Deadly Sins: Pride, Envy, Lust, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony, and Wrath. Only sinners could dwell in the Ring of Pride; it was Lucifer’s punishment since he hated mortals. Lucifer, Satan, Leviathan, Mammon, Asmodeus, Belphegor and Beezelbub were the Archdemons…but Lucifer was the Ringmaster of all of them!

 A wide array of attractions spun, lit up, whirled and roared to life, some of them reaching toward the sky. There was a large Ferris wheel with a large blue star structure in the center. A star flyer swing ride spun people on swings, while a towering red roller coaster contrasted against the blue sky. A brick tower displayed an eye with pointed ears on the top of it. A white and red stripped circus tent stood between two tall pillars with red painted caramel apples on top as part of the design. Two smiling red apples wearing straw hats were the pillars that flanked the entrance. A teal sign with blinking lights around the border read “Mammon’s Loo-Loo Land” in white, the last “o” hanging lopsidedly. A cardboard cutout of Robo Fizz had an extended hand in an arch holding a welcome sign. A sign read, “Legally he have to say this,” and another sign said “Not affiliated with Lu Lu World.” Another sign read “Money please!” by a ticket booth.

 A dark gray van pulled into a parking spot and Moxxie got out. He walked with a blank expression on his face, wearing a black suit and dark sunglasses like his imp colleagues. A bold red I.M.P. decal was spray painted onto the van door. Moxxie slid open the door.

 There was the hunched black silhouette of Stolas, his four red eyes glowing menacingly in the dark. He got out of the van, a happy tall owl wearing red shorts and a white Loo-Loo Land shirt. There was a brief silhouette of Octavia, her two eyes glowing violet. Octavia seethed in annoyance as she peered out through the door. Blitzo and Millie came along as well, getting up from the red seats. Stolas put on an apple hat with big eyes and excitedly mentioned for his daughter to come along. Octavia covered her face with her black hat before following.

 In a black suit and sunglasses, Blitzo strolled by Stolas with a serious expression as they walked by a booth that sold apple Loo-Loo hats. By a clock with a black crown on it that read 7:30 AM, was another booth with “Balloons Attack” on it.

 “Now remember, this is work and work only,” Blitzo reminded Stolas. “Me and my crew are not here to satisfy your perverted bird needs, alright?”

 “Hey, dad, do we have to…” Octavia complained before Blitzo cut her off.

 “Okay, yeah, hold on right there, sweetie.” He turned to Stolas, holding an accusing finger at him. “If you try fuckin’ my little ass in that park, I swear to…”

 Stolas leaned down and playfully tapped and booped Blitzo on the nose. “You are so cute when you are serious!”

 “I am literally going to be sick,” Octavia deadpanned.

 “Oh crumbs!” exclaimed Moxxie, rummaging through his small gray bag. “I knew today would be a lot! What do you need?”

 Moxxie fished around in the bag, retrieving pill bottles. “Antacids? Ibuprofen? Morphine?”

With a sharp toothed grin, Moxxie showed Octavia eight hypodermic needles with a glowing green substance in them.

 “That was figurative, old man,” Octavia replied, arms crossed before walking away.

 “Oh, right,” Moxxie chuckled sheepishly as he casually tossed the needles into a baby stroller by the cotton candy booth. A red baby imp wearing a bib with a pentagram on it stuck out his tongue and cooed as he reached playfully toward the deadly looking needles.

 “But she said it was ‘literally,’” Moxxie muttered under his breath.

 On a wall of a Plush booth were Robo Fizz posters and several taped signs that read: “Not Lu Lu World! Stop showing complaints,” “Does Lu Lu World have a sex robot? No! Stop asking!” “I would never do that to my BFF Lucifer.” “Everyone is so mean to me.”

 Millie took off her sunglasses and beamed. “Wooow! I haven’t been to this place since I was a tot!”

 An R on an “Apple Core Roll” sign fell off and squashed a poor teen imp below it. Moxxie flinched.

 “It hasn’t changed a bit! Oh! Look! It’s Big Lovely!”

 Near a gray Extermination booth with exterminator plush heads stood a blue animatronic T-Rex dinosaur wearing a shirt with a planet on it. It had yellow lopsided eyes. Three imps stood to watch it. It suddenly opened its mouth and let out a fierce roaring shriek.

 “That is…deeply upsetting,” Moxxie mentioned. Millie pulled him toward her. “Oh come on! It’s fun! You’ve never been here?”

 “No,” said Moxxie. “Theme parks always disturbed me. Especially the mascots,” he shivered.

 The park’s apple mascot suddenly appeared behind Moxxie. It was a large red apple with a big row of teeth with several holes in them. The top of the apple was green and a black top hat rested on top of the costume. The eyes were big, the black pupils shaped like Pacman symbols. The mascot also wore gloves.

 “Well hey there!” the mascot called in a goofy southern accent.

 Moxxie screamed in fright as the imps both turned around.

 “I’m Loo-Loo! Welcome to Loo-Loo Land!” said the mascot, spreading out his arms. “If y’all get hurt here, just try and sue us!” The mascot stood on an apple design on the ground as the animatronic head fell onto another imp. Stolas and Octavia stood near a carousel with monstrous looking horses and a small triceratops dinosaur. Some of the horses had bat wings, painted eyes all over and fiery shaped manes.

 Stolas’s eyes glowed with childish excitement, while Octavia stood embarrassed. “Look! Via! It’s Loo-Loo!”

 “I have a question,” Octavia stated, holding up a finger.

 The mascot leaned in close to her. “Well ask away, little girlie!” The mascot bounced around, an eyeball hanging out as he made “a-hyuk, a-hyuk a-hyuk” sounds.

 “Is it true this park is just a really shameless spin-off of Lucifer’s far more popular Lu Lu World?” Octavia smirked as Stolas looked at her with a pleading frown.

 The mascot paused. “No?”

 Octavia narrowed her eyes and scoffed. “This place reeks of insecure corporate shame.”

 Stolas chuckled in embarrassment before leading Octavia away. “Why don’t we go check out the rides?”

 “That chick’s creepy, huh?” the mascot asked.

 “Ah, wait till her dad tries to diddle your holes,” Blitzo deadpanned.

 “What’s that mean?”

 “Don’t talk to me!” Moxxie called in suspicion, poking a finger at him. “I know you’re a pervert under there!”

 Moxxie and Millie left. The mascot hung his body in dejection as he sighed “Yeah.”

 Moxxie and Millie headed down a pathway while a sweating Moxxie stopped to catch his breath. “You really like this place, huh?”

 “I love this place!” Millie exclaimed. “My parents would bring me and my siblings here, when they could swing it, Money-wise.” Willie and Lillie were Millie’s brother and sister and sometimes they were just as excited as she was. Unlike Blitzo’s mean father Donner and Moxxie’s parents, Millie’s parents tried to do what was best for their children while also attempting to survive.

  An imp wearing loose clothing and a baseball cap pushed a wheelbarrow full of money into a nearby toy shop. A nearby sign on a brick wall showed a Robo Fizz doll and the words, “New! Fizzy Buddy! He laughs, he sings, he swears! Tell your parents to buy me! Over 100 lovable phrases! Posable! Only 48% asbestos.”

 The two imps approach a window where apple plushies and apple shaped novelty cups with Ls on them were sold for $29.

 Moxxie mentioned, “Yeah, the prices do seem rather criminal. I mean, that much for a novelty cup you use one time?”

 “’Cause it’s Loo-loo Land!” Millie said excitedly. Blitzo walked over, slurping from a straw in a novelty cup. He wore a hat with an apple on it and two can holders and straws attached to it. Loo-Loo Land brought back memories of him and his sisters doing jokes and performing at the circus.

 “Listen to your ho’ Mox,” Blitzo said, mentioning behind him. “How ‘bout I take the first watch while you two…” he winked, “have a little fun.” Stolas held up a white shirt with an apple on it to Octavia who frowned.

 “Oh!” Millie cried. “We gotta do my favorite ride!” She picked Moxxie up and carried him as she ran.

 “Oh yeah? Whi-Which one?”

 Millie and Moxxie raced over to The Lawsuit roller coaster, the carts were red with the front displaying a green grin. The ride plunged at a sheer 90 degree drop while on fire. A lone rider hung on for dear life and screamed as the ride plunged into a tunnel in the ground. The mascot posed by a height rules sign. Later on, Moxxie threw up in a trash can as an angry vomit covered imp family glared at them. Even the red three eyed dragon from the petting zoo glared at Moxxie.

 Stolas happily carried a balloon in his hand while Octavia slouched on. They walked by a stand that read “Funnel Cakes: Eternal Suffering” with popcorn and a sausage on a fork. Blitzo snuck around like a secret agent with his sniper rifle. He appeared on a teal-green tent roof of an “Ice Cream Bugs” stand. Blitzo slid with his rifle and knocked over cups at a “Hot and Cold Drunks” stand. The imps glared at him as he toppled backwards onto the ground. A nearby blaster game was titled “Stop that Soul” and showed a frowning sun and cardboard angels in clouds with xs over their eyes. Another sign read “Hax Away.”

 Five grinning imps with knives and weapons peered out from an alleyway at Stolas, itching to kill him and steal the prince’s money. Blitzo slid along the floor, then glared at the imps, causing them to scatter away. Blitzo aimed his sniper again, near a game where imps could knock out mechanical clown’s teeth at “Teeth Off!” Stolas tilted his head upside down and stroked Blitzo’s horns from above. There was a game where one could toss balls into skulls and a ring toss with real spikes to toss them onto.

 “You know, it’s quite thrilling to see you on the job, Blitzy.”

 “Save it, bitch. I’m working.”

 Octavia rolled her eyes. “You both need to get a room.”

 “Hey!” Blitzo called. “I am not a day-hooker!”

 A nearby imp mother and her baby glared at Blitzo.

 “What? I just said I’m not one, prude!” He flipped her the bird. A nearby film sign read “Pirana.”

 Meanwhile, Moxxie and Millie walked along a line of booths, one read “Muppet” and one read “Knock a Bottle.” Millie suddenly beamed and pulled Moxxie toward another vendor. A smug imp wearing a yellow hat and a red shirt spotted them.

 “Hello, hello!” he called. “Step right up and win a thing!”

 Millie’s eyes shone as she gasped and pointed upwards. “Oh, look Moxxie! A thing!”

 The “thing” was a purple stuffed animal wearing pink overalls with stripped imp horns. It had a yellow beak, an upside down cross on it and a tag with “Thing?” on it.

 Moxxie looked at her with a grin. “Oh, you like that thing?”

 “Yessss!” Millie exclaimed, drawing out the word. “I don’t know what that thing is, but I want that thing!”

 Moxxie straightened his bow tie with a smug look. “Finally something I can handle.”

 He walked up to the vendor, took out some money and handed it to the carnie. “Okay! One game, please!”

 The carnie rolled his eyes and handed Moxxie a clown-like blaster with his tail. Moxxie pulled the trigger with one eye shut and the cork projectile hit the bullseye on the cardboard smiling apple’s behind. Millie clapped in the background. Moxxie made a “ricochet” noise and blew the black powder smoke clear of the gun.

 The carnie just grinned. “Strike one, little man!”

 Moxxie stared in disbelief. “But I hit it!”

 “Hmm, I don’t know what to tell you, buddy. The target, see? It didn’t go down. So yeah, no go, bro.”

 Moxxie slammed another dollar bill onto the counter, picked up the gun and fired again. He hit the bullseye but the cardboard apple stayed in place. He slapped the pistol in annoyance. “The Heaven’s wrong with this thing?!”

 The carnie smirked. “Oh man, a real shame I tell ya. Whaa, whaa!” He pretended to cry and rub his eyes.

 Moxxie hissed in anger and slapped another bill on the counter. “Another!”

 Again and again Moxxie tried to hit it, but the carnie rigged the game, not making the apples go down. Soon, the carnie was holding 600 souls of Moxxie’s money, the dollar bills had Robo Fizz on them. He rolled one bill up into a cigar and put it in his mouth.

 “Wow! Man, you’re really starting to make this sad. You know, if you suck, you suck! Guess you won’t win your honey here a prize.”

  Moxxie seethed in anger.

 “Let me try!” Millie said, taking the blaster from Moxxie. She fired it and the cork flew far off between the apples. The carnie grinned mischievously, and pressed a foot pedal, making an apple target go down.

 “Oh, look at that! Lucky shot, baby,” the carnie said. He wiggled the rolled up bill against Moxxie and dropped it. Millie laughed and clapped.

 Moxxie yelled, “Are you kidding me?! You…you…charlatan!”

 The carnie pressed his hand into Moxxie’s face. “Hey, uh get lost pipsqueak, I’m talkin’ to the lady.”

 He leaned toward her and made a purring sound, causing her to flinch back in disgust.

   Meanwhile, Stolas pulled Octavia close with a gasp, letting go of his balloon.

“Look, Via! You used to cry such tears of joy at this show!”

 Stolas mentioned to a large circus tent with promotional signs of Robo Fizz on either side. A mother imp tried to drag her crying child toward the tent.

 “Oh no…” Octavia breathed, her white pupils constricting. A flashback of when she was a young girl came back to her. She was pushed against the stage by other cheering imp children. Robo Fizz was a robotic imp jester who posed on the stage with his arms spread out. An animatronic band was behind him. A neon sign above read “Fizzarolli and Friends,” with the “R” burnt out which made it look like “Fiends.” Robo Fizz sparked and cackled, wiggling his fingers and leering over a crying Octavia. Off to the side, a scowling Blitzo was dressed in clown makeup and attending a food cart.

 Back in the present, Octavia and Blitzo muttered at the same time: “I hate that fucking clown!”

 Meanwhile, Stolas happily waved as he was being held captive in the air by the gang of imps pointing weapons at him.

 “Oh Blitzy! I need my bodyguard, please!” Stolas smiled unconcerned before another imp jumped up and put a purple cloth sack over the owl’s head. Another imp grinned and held Stolas’ wallet. One imp jumped, trying to skewer him with a pitchfork. Blitzo turned around and fired his rifle, shooting the imp in the torso. Black blood splattered against the cloth sack over Stolas’ head. The imps dropped him and quickly scattered away. Blitzo carried Stolas into the tent and set him down on a wooden bench before leaving. Octavia sat next to him, rolled her eyes and removed the blood-soaked cloth form Stolas’ head. The owl blinked, wondering where he was.

 Two spotlights merged into one on the stage and Robo Fizz flapped open the curtains. He wore a jester outfit and his horns were covered with stripped cloth and little bells hung from the ends. A happy face and sad face pin were by his shoulders along with a string of lights as a necklace. His pants were stripped and he wore gloves. His shirt had small white hearts near the bottom and his eyes glowed an eerie green.

 Six lit up arrow signs pointed to him and read: “Fizzarolli,” “Robot property of Mammon,” “Look at him go!” “Yes! Love 2 c it!” “Wow!” “He.”

 Robo Fizz held up a sign with “Lu Lu” crossed out in red with “Loo-Loo, the better one,” on it. He also briefly held out a red and gold contract signed by Mammon: “This is a statement regarding the unfair accusations that my theme park “Loo-Loo Land” is trying to profit off my friend and ruler Lucifer’s park Lu Lu World. This is false. These allegations are baseless and untrue. You are all just dicks. Fuck right off and stop saying that, alright? They are legally distinct. I checked. Signed Mammon.”

  “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey implings!” he said in his showman voice. “It’s me, the Robotic Fizzarolli! Shipped from Mammon’s factory to bring you a wonderful show celebrating Loo-Loo Land (spelled with O’s to avoid lawsuits!) Hit it!”

 Rows of spotlights lit up and he began to sing. The curtains opened and Robo Fizz’s Five Nights at Freddy’s band played. An open clown mouth served as the stage backdrop. Robo Fizz rapidly pointed at a boy imp and a girl imp and made his rounds toward Stolas and Octavia. He moved back to the stage just as Blitzo aimed his sniper at him in warning. The band played on a rising structure shaped like a cake, decorated with eyes and sharp spikes.

  “Loo-Loo Land, Loo-Loo Land!

Everybody sing along with the Loo-Loo band!

Every girl, every boy, every woman, every man

Loves Loo-Loo Land!”

 An animatronic bear and a smaller rabbit meshed together played a red banjo with a pentagram on it. A lopsided dinosaur played a guitar decorated with flames. A green frog with large human teeth played the Robo Fizz head drums and a brown dog played the triangle. The two speakers on either side were shaped like weapons and had skulls on them. “Fizzarolli and Friends” sign glowed at the top.

 “Loo-Loo Land! Loo-Loo Land!

Everything is beautiful in Loo-Loo Land!

Ugly children holdin’ hands

In Loo-Loo Land!”

 Robo Fizz briefly pulled a crowd of imps into a hug before spinning around and tossing them aside. They crashed back into the stands. He hugged the animatronic dinosaur which fizzled and slapped the bear and rabbit, which squirted black ink at a nearby imp.

 He poured gasoline onto a pile of “cease and desist” papers, causing them to go up in flames.

 “Everybody’s friendly, and nobody is mean

No copyright infringement’s ever seen!”

 In an imitation of Princess Charlie, Robo Fizz then posed on top of a piano. He stood on top, hand over his heart in the spotlight.

 “I have a dream (he has a dream)

I’m here to tell (he has to tell)

About a magical fantastic place called Loo-Loo Land!”

 He spun his body around and landed in a pose with arms and legs spread out. Octavia watched with disgust and boredom.

  “Loo-Loo Land, Loo-Loo Land!

Everybody sing along with the Loo-Loo band!

Every girl, every boy, every woman, every man

Loves Loo-Loo Land!”

 The show ended with a pyrotechnic display. Green flames ate up one of the curtains and Robo Fizz laughed as he did a final pose up front. Octavia leaned her head back and pounded her fist on the bench in annoyance. Stolas cheered and rapidly clapped.

 “Ohhohohoho! How delightful! Haven’t had this much fun since the last Harvest Moon Festival…” Octavia hid her face in her hat again.

 Behind Stolas, an imp armed with a wave-shaped keris sword rose from beneath the seats, ready to stab him. The imp’s head was quickly blown apart by Blitzo at the back seats.

 “Oh! My, what aim you have, Blitzy!” Stolas praised.

 “Ugh! I can’t do this anymore!” Octavia shouted in frustration.

 “Octavia!” Stolas reached out in concern as the owl teen stormed off. Stolas chased after her as Blitzo followed suit. Robo Fizz cackled as he spotted the imp dashing along.

 “Ha ha ha hoho-oh! Is that Blitzo my sensors spot up there?” He emphasized the silent “O” in his name. “I bet the kiddies are still running away from you, huh?”

He spun his head around in loops and cackled.

 “The “O” is silent now!” Blitzo stopped and yelled.

 Robo Fizz mocked him some more and did wild dance-like poses. “Uh huh! Just like your audience always was when you to-told your lazy jokes here!”

 Blitzo tossed his sunglasses aside. “I make more money killing people than you do being a cheap-ass ripoff of an overrated sell-out jester!”

 “Oh ho ho! Someone’s salty! Real or not though, people love me! Does anybody love you…”

 His face turned dark and his eyes glowed menacingly, grin stretched wide, “Blitzo?!”

 “No. But I’m really good with guns now!” Blitzo took out his sniper. “Dance, bitch!”

 Blitzo slammed a new magazine into his rifle, switched it to full-auto and opened up on Robo Fizz, who cartwheeled out of the way of the rounds. He rapidly spun like a wheel up the stairs to where Blitzo was. He coiled himself around Blitzo like a snake, before using his momentum to launch the imp out of the tent.

 “Fuck meeeee!” Blitzo yelled.

 Outside, Wally Wayford, an imp with a southern accent was selling lit torches. There were two posters of Robo Fizz, the first was “Fizzarolli and the Handy Dandies.”

The other showed Robo Fizz with handcuffs:  “Robo Fizz Personal Companion. Gives and receives. Ribbed for your pleasure. Real tentacle action. Ten speed vibration. BDSM feature. Machine Washable.”

 “Torches, I say, I say!” Wally said in a southern accent. “Get your inconvenient torches here!”

 Blitzo landed on the cart with a yell, which scattered the green torches everywhere.

 “Ow…I say ow!” Wally yelled.

 The flames lit the big top of fire. The flames rapidly spread to all corners of the park. Burning animatronics fled the tent as Robo Fizz cackled with demonic glee at the chaos.

 Back at the blaster game, Blitzo had crash landed through the roof and into the pervert carnie just in time, saving Millie.

 “Sir?” asked Moxxie, surprised.

 “Oh hey guys!” a dazed Blitzo replied. “You should probably go and uh…make sure Stolas is okay! I got some…unfinished business to take care of.”

 Blitzo stood up and drew a brown flintlock pistol and fired. Robo Fizz swayed creepily toward Blitzo, a red eye showing on his burning grinning face, green flames behind him. The impact spun Robo Fizz’s head around…but the jester was unharmed by the shot.

 “Oh what a mouth!” Blitzo exclaimed as Robo Fizz caught the bullet in his mouth and spat it out. Blitzo grimaced as Robo Fizz rolled at him again. Moxxie, Millie and Blitzo jumped out of the way as the jester hit the booth, destroying it in a large explosion. Shrapnel and several white imp head prizes flew through the air on fire. The piece of a stuffed animal hit a young imp boy on the head, leaving him unconscious. The photographer then snapped the picture of the imp family.

 “Goddammit Nathan!” the fat father yelled. “You ruined another bloody photo! Why were you even born?!”

 Stolas wandered around other booths: Aim and Fire Shoot Apple, Happy Ducking, and a bomb themed Knok Knok game. One was called Eggs in the Basket, Poison Apples sold caramel apples decorated like slimy skulls and a dunking game was called Drown the Sinner.  

 Stolas then gasped. “Octavia!”

 Octavia ran into a fun house shapes like an elongated head of Lucifer. The face was white with the blushes on the cheeks and the eyes were green and snake-like. The steps were positioned onto a long tongue and the fun house entrance was shaped like Lucifer’s fanged mouth. A top hat and an apple reading “Fun House” was at the top. Stolas followed her inside as two grinning imps held rope and weapons close behind.

 The neon interior was filled with eyes, tubes, swinging pendulums, mirrors and disembodied hands. Stolas went further into the room and looked around. A sign reading “Smile” had an arrow pointed down at a tunnel. A shadow appeared behind Stolas as a random imp jumped onto his shoulders.

 “Um, I think I’m supposed to be body-guarded right now!” Stolas said, annoyed.

The imp covered Stolas’ mouth with his shirt sleeve, but was shot in the head, falling to the ground. Moxxie and Millie appeared in the entryway, Millie had just shot the imp.

 “Ugh. That’s better,” Stolas said, brushing his sleeve. “Where is Blitzy? He’s my knight in shining armor, not you littler ones.” Even his apple hat got an annoyed expression on it.

 The imps came over to him, Millie hugging the thing stuffed animal. “He’s…uh busy.”

 “Being a fool,” said Moxxie.

 “What kind of fool?” asked Stolas.

 “The “everything is now on fire,” kind,” Moxxie replied.

 Stolas left the imps, dodging two swinging pendulums, and headed down a tunnel into an adjoining room filled with eyes on the wall. He then spotted Octavia sitting in one of four apple-themed rail cars, crying.

“Octavia…” Stolas breathed. He took off his apple hat and it fell to the floor, the goofy face now a sad face, reflecting Stolas’ emotional state.

 Stolas scooted next to Octavia, leaving a bit of space between them. “I take it you are…not having fun.”

 “I didn’t even want to come here!” Octavia protested.

 “I’m sorry, sweetie. I thought you loved it here.”

 Octavia glared at her father. “When I was a kid and my parents didn’t hate each other, and my dad didn’t flirt with some weird red dickhead the entire time.”

 Both owls looked downcast.

 “I’m sorry, Via,” Stolas said. “I’m sorry for everything happening right now. I know it’s a lot but I…uh…I should have listened.”

 “I just want to go home, but home doesn’t even feel like home anymore. You ruined it.” More tears fell from Octavia’s eyes as she shook her head and wiped more away with her arm.

 “You need to understand, you mother and I…” He stroked the back of his head, nervously. “I just…I felt…she’s always been…I haven’t been” He stuttered, “…we weren’t in…” He buried his head in his hands, “I’m sorry, I-I-I don’t have the words.”

 “Are you going to run off with him? And leave me behind? Go away where I can’t find you?”

 “What? No!” He pulled her close. “No, no, never. I’d never do that. Never.” Both of them embraced in a tight hug. “I think it’s time to leave this place,” Stolas said. Octavia smiled a bit through her tears. Despite his mistakes, her father loved her dearly. It wasn’t too hard to forgive him. Stolas lifted her up into his arms and continued, “You were right. You are too old for it, anyway.” He walked through an apple shaped opening.

 Stolas carried Octavia out of the Fun House as an imp grinned manically in the space above the drop-ceiling. The imp dropped down and flicked open a switchblade behind him. Stolas immediately turned around, his red eyes glowing brightly. The frightened imp was turned to stone on the spot, then was knocked over by a pendulum.

 As dusk feel outside, the park was reduced to pandemonium. Millie tried to shoot Robo Fizz who wildly rolled around. The red dragon picked up Robo Fizz, tossed him into the air before catching him and swallowing him whole. On the dragon’s back, Moxxie gaped in terror.

 Stolas and Octavia left the park gates.

 “So, what would you like to do now?” Stolas asked.

 Octavia smiled. “Oh, can we go to Stylish Occult? They sell weird taxidermy there.”

 “Hmm,” Stolas said reluctantly, but then said “Okay.”

 Octavia let out a small laugh. “Thanks, dad. You’re okay sometimes.”

 Stolas smiled down at her, his face bright against the starry sky above. It was nice to get a compliment from her. “Thank you Via. Thank you…”

 A massive explosion rocked the park, sending green flames shooting up into the air. The I.M.P. imps hurtled through the air, screaming before all three landed in front of the owls. All three were covered with smoke.

 “Way to ruin another good thing, sir!” Moxxie strained at Blitzo.

 “Worth it!” Blitzo replied, holding up a shaking finger. “That slutty toy clown had. It. Coming!”

 Moxxie and Blitzo then fell unconscious.

  In the darkness, Valentino’s hairless black dog Queef sniffed the unconscious Millie, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her still form away…

 Helluva Boss Episode Three: Spring Broken

Part One: Verosika

 The ground-shaking rock music blared as a gray van rolled along the street at high speed. The front hood of the van was loose and rattled up and down, showing a dark opening. The front headlights looked like a dark grate with a few yellow lights at the very ends. The small license plate at the front read “IMP-666” in black letters. Two red stripes streaked across the side of the van while the bold red and white I.M.P. decal was proudly displayed on the side door.

 “I love this song!” exclaimed the leader imp, Blitzo. He was wearing his usual work outfit; a navy blue coat with red buttons and a red pin at the front. Above Blitzo hung small red and white flags. In the center was a white toy horse with a blonde mane and tail. With his hands on the wheel, Blitzo belted out the lyrics:

 “You were the little spicy…uh… demon with the bleach blonde hair Fiendin' for some semen when I caught your stare Thought it might be love but you went too far Fucked all of my friends and blew up my car

 Lit me on fire made me watch rom-coms Made a secret sex tape and showed it to my mom You were a bitch kinda generally Now I'm a wet wild stallion and I'm running free

 You stepped on my nuts and you tore me apart Slapped up my booty and tangled my farts Cut off my dick when you shattered my heart But it grew back twice as long

 MUSTANG DONG!”

 Memories of him and a former lover were already rushing back to him. The song perfectly described his previous love life and though not very pleasant, was still fun to sing to. There were many times in his life where he considered horses to be better companions than his peers. An array of endless horse names and adventures he could conjure up in his head…

 Blitzo made “horn” rocker symbols with his hands as he nodded his head to the beat. In shotgun, Loona made a face of annoyance as she glanced at her black and white cell phone in her hands. She wore her usual shorts, torn gray tank top and black strings in the shape of a downward facing pentagram below her neck. In the back of the van, Moxxie covered both ears as he sat in the long red seat. He wore his usual dark coat and red bow tie. Millie rolled down her window and smiled as the breeze blew through her wild black hair. She had on her black tank top and torn pants as well.

 Blitzo drove the van into a reserved parking lot, surrounded by graffiti-sprayed buildings. A worn white banner on one building read “Buck you Flitzo” in bold capital letters. One of the buildings was decorated with a large red eye made of glass. Bizarrely enough, there was a billboard that advertised holy water. Blitzo haphazardly drove through the lot opening. He was just about to pull into the remaining empty space to the right when a pink convertible car beat him to it.

 “Holy shit! F…” Blitzo yelled, he and Loona both fearful. Blitzo rapidly turned the wheel and the horn sounded. He slammed on the brakes and the van skidded to a stop. The pink car had a red heart with gold trim on the back and a golden border. The license plate read “SUCK-4-LIFE.” The wheels had small white hearts on the dark inside, white rims surrounding them.

 An angry Blitzo rolled his head and turned off the radio.

 Oh, you “suck for life,” do ya?!” he asked as he glared at the car. He pulled out his white megaphone and leaned out the window.

 “Listen up, you unoriginal pink cum dump!” he yelled through the megaphone. “You have three goddamn seconds to get your dick out of my parking spot…”

 A pair of tall high heels lowered to the ground. The shoes were black with pink hearts on them. The figure wore black tight pants with three pink xs on the side. She wore a black and white dress, a black star on the lower half and a large X and O over her breasts. A sparkly light pink fluffy coat covered her shoulders. Her face was dark pink and a black choker was around her neck. She had a pointed tail, little bat wings and curved pink horns with a few black stars on them. Her hair was long and pinkish white, and sunglasses with pink hearts on them obscured her eyes.

 Blitzo lowered his megaphone in shock at the sight of the familiar succubus.

 “Oh shit! Verosika?!”

 The succubus blew a bubble of pink gum before it popped.

 “Blitzo,” she greeted, arms folded. She had pronounced the “o” on purpose to annoy Blitzo.

 Blitzo glared. “I should have known you’d be here. I could smell fish for miles. Which is odd because I believe the nearest ocean is…”

 Blitzo fell out through the window, face-planting onto the ground. He quickly stood up, pointing at the ground, “…three rings down!” He was referring to the Ring of Envy where the oceanic ruler Leviathan resided.

 “And I should have known you’d be here when I heard the Amber Alerts,” Verosika retorted. She held a white and brown flask bottle in her left hand. It was decorated with a small red and white heart near the top. “I.M.P. is a scam!” and “Swear word” were painted on a nearby brick wall.

 “Oh yeah?” he asked. “I’m surprised they let your fat ass out of rehab. I can see you’re still a drunken whore, clutching onto that beelzejuice juice bottle like it’s the last cock in Hell.”

 “They let me out because I’m still famous,” Verosika bragged, flipping back her long hair dramatically, “and rehab is for sad, loser wash-ups.”

 She took a drink from her bottle and wiped her black lipstick mouth with a gloved white thumb.

 “So your sister says hi,” she smirked, implying a temporary sexual relation with Tilla or Barbie Wire.

 Blitzo stomped over toward Verosika. “Why are you parking here?” he growled. “This is the only parking spot my company has. So take your tampon race car somewhere else.”

 Verosika leaned slightly toward him. “Actually prick, it has my name on it.”

 She pointed down at their feet, where “Verosika” and a heart was spray painted in purple over the previous black “I.M.P.”

 Verosika stood up. “I’m doing a bit of freelance for one of the infinitely more successful companies in the building…”

 “No way,” Loona breathed as she peered from the van.

 “…and they wanted to have me come in this week to lead their team during spring break.”

 “A week?!” Blitzo exclaimed. “No, no, you are not parking here for a fucking week!”

 Verosika removed her sunglasses, revealing pink irises with yellow sclera.

 “Aw, you mad, Blitzo?” she cooed in a mocking tone. “You gonna run off, leaving someone else to pay for the hotel room, steal their car…”

 Verosika and Blitzo talked over each other, “…and run three Rings to Wrath and back and max my credit cards on shitty horse riding lessons?!”

 Blitzo stomped his foot. “God dammit whore, you will not let that go!”

 Verosika walked past him, showing a middle finger. “Choke on a sandpaper cock.”

 Loona lowered her head as she walked by. Blitzo angrily followed Verosika.

 “Hold on, you better move that pussy wagon right now or I’m gonna…”

 Blitzo froze as he heard a low growling sound behind him. Towering over him was a beefy dark gray Hellhound man. He wore a torn black jacket decorated with red spikes along the shoulders. A black tattoo of a wolf with sharp teeth and a tongue out was on his left shoulder. He had thick eyebrows, torn pointed ears, a black nose and a scar over his milky left eye. His right eye was red.

 “You’ll what?” he grunted, showing his sharp white teeth.

 Blitzo stuttered and looked around, fearfully. “Or I’ll…um…I’ll…I’ll call HR.”

 Blitzo, Verosika and the Hellhound burst into sudden laughter before they calmed down.

 “Anyway,” said Verosika, “Meet my new Hellhound, Vortex. Unlike you, he actually does his job well.”

 Vortex walked by Verosika’s side as she left. She flipped off Blitzo again before saying, “Ta ta, fuck stain.”

 “Ugh, I wasted so much time with a bag of holes like that,” Blitzo muttered in annoyance.

 Just then, Loona stepped out of the van. “You know Verosika Mayday?!”

 “Huh?” Blitzo asked. Then he casually answered, “Oh yeah, her, yeah, we dated.”

 “Was it before or after she became a pop star?” Millie asked in curiosity.

 Blitzo crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

 “You dated a popstar?!” Moxxie added as he stepped out of the van.

 “Okay, why are you all acting like that’s such a shock?” Blitzo asked.

 “Hello. It’s Verosika Mayday?” Loona replied.

 “It’s you?” Millie said. Moxxie and Millie were surprised that a famous person like Verosika would consider dating someone who was perceived to be far below her league.

 Moxxie scratched his head. “I just…Is she blind? Suffering some form of brain damage?”

 “Okay look, you are all making this into a way bigger deal than it needs to be,” Blitzo said. “I don’t pry into your stupid personal lives.”

 Loona, Moxxie, and Millie did overlapping yells:

  “You do that all the time, sir!” yelled Moxxie.

 “Come on, you do that,” added Millie.

 “You totally do that,” Loona agreed.

 Millie grinned mischievously, her eyelids lowering. “What was sex with her like?”

 “Millie!” Moxxie yelled, taken aback.

 “What?!” Millie shrugged. “It’s a pop star! You’d wanna know what sex with Michael Crawford was like.”

 Moxxie paused in mid argument. “Touché.”

 “Okay look, let’s just drop it!” Blitzo demanded. “Millie, find a temporary spot for that truck.”

 He tossed a pair of keys to a gleeful Millie, who caught them and scampered off.

 “Okay, Loonie, Moxxie, let’s go handle this shit.”

 In the building, Loona led the way between the imps as the three stepped out of an elevator. The dark brown walls were decorated with yellow webbed cracks. I.M.P. was painted in red on an office door window. The Hellhound nervously stepped forward, hands together.

 “Did they see me? Fuck! I did my makeup shitty today!” she muttered. Blitzo stared at her with shining eyes.

 “Oh you look perfect, Loonie. Like always.”

  She flinched away from him, arms crossed as she passed by a water cooler. A look of annoyance crossed Loona’s face at Blitzo baby-talking her.

 “Oh shut up da…” Loona began before seeing a look of adoration and wide eyes on Blitzo’s face. She had almost said, “dad.”

 “Urgh!” she caught herself and shoved him aside. “…Blitzo!” She checked her face in a small hand mirror, a wolf design on it. She then bumped into a long furry arm.

 “Oh. Whoa,” she breathed. Glancing down at her was none other than Vortex. Redness crept up to her cheeks and she wagged her tail. Blitzo briefly smiled at Loona before gasping in shock. He dashed between Loona and Vortex, arms out.

 “Hi big man,” he said. “Where’s your bitch bag of an employer?”

 “She’s in her office,” said Vortex in a low voice. “There wasn’t room on the second floor so they rented one here on this one. It’s way cheaper.”

 Vortex mentioned toward a room down the hall, across from the I.M.P. office. Three neon hearts stood right above two blue double doors. A large pink “V” and a pink “M” were painted on the door windows, standing for Verosika Mayday (and Vivienne Medrando, creator of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss!)

 “Oh come on!” Blitzo yelled.

 Vortex chuckled with a shrug of his shoulders. “Sorry man,” he said before walking away.

 “Oh no you don’t, bitch,” Blitzo muttered.

 “Sir,” Moxxie began. “How about you let me go in and try to reason with her. I don’t really listen to what’s classified as “pop genre” music, so her status to me is…”

 Blitzo tuned out Moxxie’s rambling.

 “Moxxie,” he said, “Shut the fuck up.”

 “All righty then,” Moxxie replied, pushing open one of the blue doors and going inside. Electronic music briefly sounded from inside the room. The room had been converted into a dimly lit recording studio, with mixing consoles, effects units, microphones and separate booths. The neon pink border just under the ceiling gave it a club-like atmosphere, as did the rows of beer bottles on the counters. The silhouettes of Moxxie, Verosika and her gang of demons were visible from a large glass window.

 “Hello Miss Verosika was it?” Moxxie asked, his eyes golden and glowing. “I work for Imp and it is actually rather important for us to retain the singular parking space we were assigned because…”

 A woman succubus with a bob of hair pointed at Moxxie. “Aw, look at the little one. He’s got a wittle bow tie!” The gang snickered.

 “Please don’t condescend me, ma’am,” Moxxie replied. “I…”

 A male incubi leaned close to Moxxie. “Wanna kiss, you little guy?”

 Moxxie stepped back. “A…A kind offer, but…I’m married.”

 Verosika stepped forward as her gang surrounded Moxxie. “Hey, why don’t you send a little message from me back to your limp-dick boss?”

 Verosika and her gang hissed with sharp shadowy mouths over Moxxie. The imp screamed “Don’t touch that!” Blitzo raced over and pressed both hands on the window pane.

 “Moxxie, do not let her access any of your holes!” he cried.

 Moxxie raced back into the hall, his back against the closed doors. He was shaken and battered, with red lipstick kisses all over his face.

 “I…I gotta go lie down…now,” he stuttered as he walked away.

 Blitzo fumed, veins popping in his yellow eyes. “Oh this won’t stand!”

 He boot-kicked both doors open, gaining the attention of his ex and her crew. There were other succubi and incubi with reddish pink skin, horns, pointed tails and small bat wings. A white-haired man wore a black collar with a black upside down cross around his neck. He wore a black short sleeved shirt with a red logo that read “burn forest burn” on it. His taller male partner wore a ripped black tank top with a circled X on it. His hair was black and he had a black goatee. Two demon women partners sat together as well. The first had long dark hair and wore a fishnet top and leggings. The white-haired succubi next to her wore short revealing overalls. Verosika stood poised in the middle.

 “Alright, (censored)! That’s it!” Blitzo yelled, marching over toward Verosika. “If you’re gonna be shitty to my employees…” he pointed a finger at her, “…then I challenge you to a fucking…challenge!” He leaned his head back in frustration. “Fuck, I said that twice.”

 The woman with long dark hair chuckled. “Is this imp boy starting a demon duel?”

 “I think he is,” Verosika replied with a snicker. She bent over toward the imp. “What’s the game then, Blitzo?”

 “Every year, you STD spreaders go topside for easy pickings while spring break is a prime time for crime of all kinds!” Blitzo responded. He grinned, “So I bet…you succu-bitches can’t fuck as many people as we can off by the end of the day.” He briefly made a hand gesture of a gun.

 Verosika and her gang burst into laughter. Blitzo glared in determination. Verosika and the others stopped laughing. “Oh, you’re serious?” Verosika asked. She leaned in and spoke to Blitzo in a low whisper, “Game on, bitch.”

 Later at I.M.P. headquarters, Blitzo stood in front of an easel full of paper and a large whiteboard flanked by bat wings near the top. There was a large bar graph drawn on the board along with horse drawings. On the left hand corner, Blitzo had written, “Potential Horse Names: ‘Grape Fiesta’, ‘Paperclip’, and ‘Soap’, -32.”  Moxxie, Millie and Loona sat in their usual spiked chairs around a long table to listen.

 “Alright, shut your assholes, here’s how were gonna do this shit,” Blitzo announced.

 “First, we find a fuck ton of clients…”

 The animated childish drawings on the paper showed Blitzo, Moxxie, Millie and Loona standing together. A crowd of imps and clients surrounded them and gave them hugs and piles of money.

 “We portal up…”

 The Blitzo drawing snapped his fingers and the I.M.P. figures fell down to earth.

 “We have our fun murder time as per usual…”

 The I.M.P. figures used guns to kill the human figures around them.

 “We pile all the bodies into a big fucking canoe…”

 Drawing Blitzo tossed the dead humans into a canoe that read “S.S. Cum Gutter.”

 “We push said canoe into some water. We light it on fire to attract the sharks and eagles and maybe a goose, too. Fuck it…”

 Animated drawings of sharks, snakes, eagles and a goose ate at the bodies on fire. A large octopus sea monster snapped the boat and everything up in its mouth.

 “They come and eat the bodies, we win the bet…”

 The I.M.P. figures cheered, while the Loona one wore a party hat and blew a noisemaker.

 “We rub it in that sloppy bitch’s drunken whore ass face.”

 The Verosika drawing burst into tears on her knees as the I.M.P. figures flipped her off several times.

 “Do you have any questions?” Blitzo asked as the real meeting continued.

 “Uh yeah, why was that nonsense?” Moxxie deadpanned.

 Blitzo walked over to him. “That wasn’t a question.”

 “That wasn’t a plan,” Moxxie retorted.

 Blitzo put a hand around Moxxie. “I’m sorry, but that was a flawless presentation of what we should do, Mox. It’s not my fault you’ve got a smooth little brain upstairs.”

 “A what now?” Moxxie asked, eyebrows raised.

 “I’m calling you slow, Moxxie. God, why don’t you learn to take criticism, you talentless baby dick troll?” He pointed his finger into Moxxie’s chest several times as he spoke.

 An angry Moxxie stood up on the table. “Well why don’t you take an art class?”

 Blitzo grabbed Moxxie by the collar and threw him back onto the chair. “Why don’t you see how expensive they are?!”

 Loona interrupted the argument, still holding her cell phone. “Hey, is there a way I can come with you guys this time?”

 Blitzo crossed his arms in disapproval. “Absolutely not. I forbid it. Not gonna happen. Sorry, sweetie. Spring break is no place for young vulnerable goth girls. You know the kind of freaks up there who drool all over you.”

 All four characters glared into the camera, breaking the fourth wall.

 “Well, I can blend in with humans easy enough,” Loona explained. “Just let me tag along.”

 “Wait, say that again,” said Blitzo.

 “I can blend in?” Loona reiterated.

 “You have a human disguise?” Millie asked.

 “Yeah. Don’t you?”

 The three guilty imps nervously looked at each other, eyes darting from side to side.

 “You three have been screwing around on Earth this whole fucking time, without human disguises?!” Loona asked in disbelief.

 “Okay, new plan!” Blitzo called, rapidly scribbling on a piece of paper. He placed the paper on the easel, showing Loona surrounded by human figures with tiny hearts around them.

 “Loonie can help lure the humans to us and we’ll take care of the rest. Okay how about that?”

 “Flawless logic,” Millie smiled in agreement.

 Moxxie held up a clawed finger. “I think you’re missing the biggest issue, sir. Isn’t it crucial to have a client who demands enough kills to win this bet? We aren’t just going up to massacre.”

 Blitzo smirked in response. “I got that covered, Mox.”

 Not long after, Blitzo stuck a flyer onto a pole. It read “Spring Break Victim 50% Off!” It had a drawing of Blitzo, a dead victim and little cartoon horses.

 Blitzo strode to Moxxie. “Now, we wait.”

 Moxxie shook his head. “Sir, there is no way we are going to get enough clients by the end of the day with one poorly spelled bad grammar flyer!”

 Both Moxxie and Blitzo paused and looked over to see a line of a dozen creatures looking in curiosity at the flyer under the Pride Ring’s blood red sky. They arrived in a variety of shapes and sizes. Some of them were imps and others were sinners. There was a pink fluffy monster with black eyes, an orange fly trap plant wearing librarian glasses, a fox with thick white hair, a humanoid dog with pointed ears and a hook for a hand. Next to a teal lizard lady with dyed hair stood a tall man wearing a blue suit with a deer skull for a head. Even Travis, a gray owl demon, was there.

 Blitzo elbowed Moxxie with a smug grin before strolling over to the other demons. “Now, who’s first?”

  Part Two: At the Beach

 The beach in the human world was alive with humans from everywhere. Men, women and children happily walked around, relaxed under umbrellas, or had snacks. Several surf boards stood up in the sand by a decorated teal wall with a wavy orange design taking up the center. The crowd was positioned between a wooden dock and a makeshift stage. Two women wearing sunglasses got comfortably close and kissed each other in the shade. A muscular dark skinned man talked with a red haired woman while a blonde guy wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap shook a bottle of pills into his mouth. Above the beach lay a small row of shops. One sign read “Pawn Paradise.” One sign read “hotel” in red letters while another sign read “Sea cream” with a teal ice cream cone structure next to it. Another sign read “Pico Puncho Pizza” and another read “Dagon Juice” and had a green fish with a sailor’s cap on it.

 In the shadows under the dock, the I.M.P. crew emerged from algae covered rocks.

 “Now remember, we can’t be seen, alright?” Blitzo reminded them. “And loose shots will likely cause a panic, so Loona can help with leading targets to a better spot to off them. You got the list, Loonie?”

 Loona skimmed the list in her hands and gave it a sniff. “Got it.”

 She dropped the paper, stood up and walked into the light. A rush of swirling blue magic enveloped her before it vanished.

 Loona was now in human form. She opened her red eyes and brushed her thick light gray hair with her hands. She wore her same dark crop top and high black shorts but she now had white skin, two bars in her right ear and a partially shaved head. She had gray eye makeup on and a black choker around her neck. Her pale midriff, arms and legs were visible.

 All three imps stared in amazement.

 “Oh Loonie, look at you!” Blitzo breathed. “You look downright awful!”

 Loona glared at him.

 Blitzo wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m so proud.” He pointed ahead. “Now go fetch!”

 Loona peered in front of her with a hand over her eyebrows to help block out the light. Her target humans were outlined in red in her vision. Loona smirked and strolled over to a tall dark haired muscular man wearing sunglasses. She moved a finger toward his chest and gave him a flirtatious grin. She mentioned behind her to a private alleyway. Loona led him into the alleyway and leaned casually against the wall. The man reached out to grab her in lust but was immediately shot in the head by Blitzo spying on the roof. He gave Loona a thumbs up.

 Later on, a blonde man ran to Loona in an alleyway with a hungry lustful look on his face. He was caught in a noose by Blitzo. A random “music band” poster hung on the wall. On a rooftop, a brown haired man leaned in to kiss Loona, but Millie knocked him off the roof with a kick. The man fell into a green dumpster that Moxxie slammed shut. Loona walked with a fat man down the sidewalk and a flower pot crashed fatally into his head. Blitzo killed a woman with a knife, Millie killed a white haired woman with a spiked baseball bat, and another woman got shot in the head.

 Blitzo and the gang put the bodies in bloodstained dark trash bags, closing them. In the background, Millie happily jumped on another body.

 “That’s nine kills in the bag!” called Blitzo. “I’d like to see that waily snatch orgasm that many…”

 The imps froze when they heard a voice through a microphone. It was Verosika Mayday on stage, in her human form. Her shadowy silhouette in the clearing smoke resembled her demon form. She had blonde hair, tan skin and wore black leggings and high heels. She wore a pink skirt and a matching frilly top that revealed her right shoulder. She had a small black heart on her right cheek. The background lights were pink, giving the appearance of moving hearts. “Verosika Mayday” was on a pink banner overhead. Verosika appeared on two screens on either side of the stage, showing moving hearts of red, pink and white for the background. Six pink spotlights shone on her.

  “All right spring breakers! Are y’all ready get fucked up and make some bitching bad choices?!”

 The crowd cheered in affirmation. A white teen boy with short blonde hair tore off his shirt and yelled “Verosika!” He had her name written in pink on his bare chest.

 Verosika sang her song:

 “All aboard

 Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay babe

Take it straight to Bonetown

 V-time, free time, baby relax

Self-care, no hair, Brazilian wax

Hardtop succu-bus to the beach

Catch some rays while catching some D

 Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay babe

Take it straight to Bonetown

 Hot dog, hot bod, sausage and buns

Threesome, fivesome, having some fun

Back to my place, welcome to Hell

Sun’s out, hormones out, how does it smell?

 Pack your bags

Sun’s out

Take a vacay babe

Take it straight to Bonetown”

  Verosika performed her song on stage and took a drink from her bottle. “Fuck you Blitzo” appeared on the screens as Blitzo seethed. The humans made out with others around them. The humans kissed, hugged, and gave each other anal. One dark woman succubus showed a love-struck man a popsicle with semen-like saliva on it. She grinned and threw herself onto the human male. An incubi with dark hair in human form smiled and snapped his fingers at a blonde man…his sunglasses fell off his surprised sunburned face. Several more succubi and incubi grinned and snuck up on the humans.

 Blitzo was furious. “God dammit, that bitch started her godish mating call! Now she’s gonna win all those sex maniacs. We gotta pick things up, guys! He on the list, Loonie?”

 Blitzo mentioned to a vomiting long haired blonde man in boxer shorts.

 Loona appeared distracted, not even looking at him. “Huh? Yeah I think so.” Loona was staring at a tall muscular black skinned bouncer by the stage: a human Vortex.

 “Good!” Blitzo called.

 The blonde man looked up at Blitzo in a stupor.

 “Whoa, what are you? A leprechaun? Hahaha!”

 Blitzo raised a sharp black and red ax. “Oh yeah, pretty cool, huh?”

 Blitzo smashed the man’s head open with the ax, causing blood and brains to splatter.

 “But you sure as shit ain’t gonna tell nobody.” He looked over. “All right, next one, Loonie, come on.”

 Blitzo rapidly glanced around, but Loona wasn’t where she was a moment before.

 “Where’s my baby?!” he cried in a panic. Millie pointed toward the stage. “Look!”

 Loona nervously made her way through the crowd, avoiding a French-kissing couple and tossing aside a bra that landed on her head. A squealing fanboy ran toward Verosika but Vortex punched him into the ground, head first. He dragged the teen away in the distance as Loona watched. A male incubus appeared as a white skinned human with short white hair. Putting both hands on her shoulders, he smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at her. With a roll of her eyes, Loona landed an uppercut on his chin, causing him to fall.  

 “Now, who wants a piece of this?” Verosika called as she took one last gulp.

 She tossed her flask into the ocean, creating a small golden portal. A fish appeared, which rapidly grew in size.

 Loona walked sideways over toward Vortex.

  “Hey, you,” she tried.

 “Hey,” Vortex replied. “You’re the hound working for my boss’s freaky ex.”

 “Yeah. Sorry if that’s weird.”

 “It’s cool,” he shrugged. “Her beef ain’t mine. I’m not paid enough to care.”

 Loona laughed nervously. “Yeah. Yeah.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m Loona!”

 “Okay.” In her giddy tone he repeated, “I’m Vortex!” Both chuckled.

 “That’s hot,” Loona said with a grin. Then her face turned red and flustered. “I mean like literally you know because vortexes, you know, they give off heat. Probably.” She pointed both fingers in a snap, trying to act cool.

 Vortex chuckled lightly. “Uh, yeah. I guess. But my friends call me Tex.”

 “Oh yeah. I wish I had friends. I mean no, I mean, I don’t. I…I don’t have friends.”

 Just then, Blitzo arrived, moving himself between them.

 “Am I interrupting something?”

  “Nah man. Just having a conversation,” Vortex replied.

 Blitzo narrowed his eyes and wagged a finger at him. “’Conversation’ leads to HPV!” Loona clenched her fists in frustration.

  Meanwhile, Moxxie and Millie hid behind several metal beer barrels.

 “And… we lost him,” Moxxie declared. “Huh, it’s looking like it’s up to us handle this list.”

 Millie’s face shone in excitement. “Hell yeah! Team M and M, getting shit down, making the money!”

 Moxxie and Millie ran off holding hands in the sunset and killed more people. A sign read “Senpai, notice me.”

  Loona pinched her nose. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Loona said to Blitzo in concern. “You’re gonna get us all into shit.”

 “I just wanted to see what was so important that you’d be distracted from your job.”

 Loona angrily pulled Blitzo away from Vortex.

 “What, I can’t have a break?”

 Blitzo yelled at the top of his lungs. “We have a parking spot on the line!”

 “Hey dude,” Vortex mentioned as he walked over. “Why don’t you chill out?”

 Blitzo wagged a finger. “Why don’t you stay out of it?”

 He turned back to Loona.

 “Okay, this is our business.” He pointed to the ground and in his tail was a drawing of Blitzo killing a person, a horse followed by an equal sign and dollar signs. “Literally.”

 Loona clenched her fists and briefly leaned forward in anger. “Oh fuck Blitzo! Why can’t you stay out of my face for like five minutes?!”

  “Because I adopted you! And that should mean something.”

  “Oh what does it matter? You’re not my real dad! I was almost eighteen.”

 “It still counts.”

 “Well it shouldn’t. I didn’t need you then, asshole! I don’t need you now.”

 A tense silence followed. Both of them crossed their arms, their backs to each other. Both faces showed hurt expressions.

 As a young pup, Loona had been left to fend for herself by her real neglectful parents. She had lived a life of meth addiction, sex, fighting and insecurity with no real friends. Blitzo was perhaps the first person to truly care about her. He took her in as a teen and adopted her…and she had worked at I.M.P. ever since. Loona already felt bad at what she had just said. But there was no taking it back.

 She stuttered, trying to say something.

 “Uh, Blitzo…I…”

 “Enjoy your break, Loonie,” he replied. “I’m gonna go kill something.”

 Loona sighed sadly as he left.

 “Damn, girl. That was savage,” Vortex remarked sympathetically. He placed a large comforting hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

 Loona blushed heavily, forcing a smile.

 “Yeah, I’m fine. He’ll get over it. He usually does.”

 “I’m glad you could stick up for yourself, at least,” Vortex mentioned. “Hmm. Takes guts.”

 “Thanks,” Loona smiled.

  Meanwhile, Moxxie looked to the left and right from behind the beer cans on a table. Beer can and bottles were everywhere. Moxxie ducked back behind them, watching as Millie loaded her crossbow. The two imps smiled and kissed.

 A man with a baseball cap, sunglasses and a tie-dye shirt that read “Kool” threw down a beer can. “Yeah! Party!” he yelled. The man pointed both fingers in the air and then promptly flipped the table, sending the imps flying. Moxxie landed on the ground as the beachgoers stepped back.

 “Eww!” exclaimed a red haired woman in disgust, pointing down at him. “Oh my god! It’s a fucking possum!”

 Moxxie tried to scurry off, but a man picked him up. “Oh crumbs!”

 “I got it!” called the guy with “Kool” on his shirt, holding up Moxxie in the air. A muscular blonde man held a large beer barrel. The first guy tossed Moxxie inside while the second one closed the lid. “We put him in the keg,” one of them said. The other people cheered as Moxxie was carried away. “Beer is awesome!” they cheered. While he was inside, he gulped down the beer around him. The people tossed the barrel and played catch with it before leaving it behind.

 Millie dashed from behind the beer cans, arriving at the barrel Moxxie was in. The barrel wobbled, surprising Millie. She placed her ear to it before tipping it over. Moxxie spilled out on his back with the remaining beer.

 “Moxxie!” Millie cried.

 “Millie! Hi! Hey!” Moxxie slurred, rolling onto his back and looking at her upside down. “Hey, when did you get four heads? I wanna kiss ‘em!”

 He made smooching noises before Millie picked him up.

   Suddenly, a large gush of water rose up from behind them. A dark shadow passed over their faces, darkening the sky. The humans glanced up in shock. Even the demon gang and Verosika looked on in fear and surprise. A woman pointed upwards and several people ran off. A giant foot crushed a man lying on a turtle towel. Blood splattered everywhere and onto the crowd of humans. Another woman screamed and the humans ran for their lives. Blitzo was in the process of chocking a drinking man from behind, when he, too, stopped to look.

 It was a giant black Leviathan fish monster!

 The fish had large teal eyes, fins, white whiskers and dozens of blue sharp teeth. The beast let out a fierce, ear-shattering roar.

 “Oooh, fish,” Moxxie grinned stupidly in his drunken haze.

 Like a deadly vine, a long spiked tongue wrapped around Moxxie and pulled him toward the fish. Millie watched in horror as Moxxie was wrapped up above the large maw before the fish snapped its jaws shut.

 Millie got into a fighting stance. She glanced to her left and spotted a fat man drinking and wearing sunglasses. She stabbed him with a knife and tore off a piece of his towel. With her knife in her mouth, she lit the cloth on fire over a vodka bottle, creating a Molotov cocktail. Millie tossed it toward the monster, sending the fish stumbling and crashing down into the sea.

 Wasting no time, Millie swam toward the monster and cut upwards along its scaly body with her knife. Using all her strength, she pried open the monster’s mouth. Moxxie was punching the monster’s uvula, still wrapped up in the tongue.

 Millie reached for him with her hand. Moxxie reached too, then gave her a high five. Millie grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him up. She used her other hand and foot to support herself on the monster’s teeth. She pulled as hard as he could, but Moxxie wouldn’t budge.

 Just when she lost her grip, she slashed her knife across the tongue, slicing a piece off. In a roar of pain, the monster spat Moxxie out. Moxxie spread out his arms, enjoying the feeling of flying. Back on the beach, a man flinched as the tongue piece landed on the ground. Moxxie landed in Blitzo’s arms. The man cheered before Blitzo shot him with a gun. Moxxie cheered drunkenly.

  Back inside the monster’s mouth, Millie rapidly punched at the tongue, trying to get out. The monster roared in pain and anger, slashing around as Millie wrestled with it.

 “I love that woman!” Moxxie declared.

 Blitzo smirked. “Oh she totally pegs you, doesn’t she?” Indeed, Millie was dominant in the bedroom and Moxxie loved it.

 Millie leapt into the air, knife aimed downward. She fell back inside the mouth…then sliced off the fish’s head from the inside. A gush of blood flowed out from the monster before it landed with a final thud into the water. Millie walked back to shore and dropped her knife, exhausted.

 Blitzo and Moxxie cheered. “Oh yeah, way to show off, Mils!” Blitzo called.

 “Is Mox okay?” Millie panted.

 Blitzo glanced at the drunken Moxxie. “Oh yeah, he’s fine,” he casually said before dropping him onto the sand.

 Millie raced over and held Moxxie in her arms.

 Moxxie grinned at Millie with a doped expression. “This is funny. I’m soooo… drinky.”

 Millie just smiled and hugged him.

 Blitzo scowled and crossed his arms. “Okay, this is too wholesome for my liking.”

 “Blitzo!” Verosika called.

 “Oh perfect,” he said sarcastically. He turned around to the human-disguised gang of seducer demons. “That must be the whores!”

 Verosika was flanked by four succubi and an incubi disguised as humans. “That was handled rather…obvious, don’t you think?” She grinned a smug grin.

 Millie held up Verosika’s flask. “I don’t think this belonged to any of us.”

 Millie tossed the flask to Verosika who caught it with one hand. She dropped it into one of the succubus’ hands.

 “Would be a shame if anyone found out you guys were behind a giant monster fish in the human world,” Millie added with a grin.

 Even Moxxie laughed out loud, pointing at them. “Oh Satan! You all be so fucked!”

 Verosika briefly looked concerned, then sneered. “Yeah, well you three nasty ass gremlins will be in shit for not being in disguises.”

 Moxxie fell to his knees and face-planted into the sand. He lifted his head up. “A human called me a possum. I am not a possum.” He face-planted again.

 Blitzo stepped forward and moved Moxxie out of the way with a foot. “You know, we could keep this little B movie scene on the down low if you agree to let us use that parking space.”

 Verosika, not wanting to get in trouble, relented with a sigh. “Fine.”

 Blitzo raised both arms in the air. “We fucking won!”

 “Fuck yeah!” Millie cheered.

 “In your face, bitch!” Blitzo taunted Verosika, who scowled.

 She glared at Blitzo one last time. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Tex!”

 Vortex stood with Loona not too far from the empty stage. “Well, guess it’s time to bounce, but hey, if you’re ever down to party, I’ll give you a ring sometime.”

 Loona smiled in excitement. “Really? I mean, Yeah. Yeah.”

 “Yeah. My girlfriend throws a ton of crazy hound parties.”

 “Nice. Can’t wait for my first one.”

 “Let’s get you some friends, girl.”

 Vortex gave her a playful punch before following Veroskia. Loona looked downcast at seeing Vortex leave and being reminded of her confrontation with Blitzo. Vortex already had a girlfriend and he wasn’t coming with her. Now she would go back to doing her usual secretary work. With Hell being “every demon for themselves,” it was hard to make true friends, especially if one was of lower class and lost in dark thoughts all the time. Loona could not deny to herself that she often felt like a lone wolf.

 Millie carried Moxxie and jumped into the portal.

 “Come on, Loonie tooney!” Blitzo called to her. “Let’s go back and park our fat fucking car in our fat fucking space!” He ran off into the portal.

 Loona followed Blitzo and fell through the portal on her back.

 Blitzo mockingly gave Verosika double middle fingers through the portal from behind her. Verosika growled in anger after noticing. She and her gang made their way up the stairs and onto the street.

 A policeman yelled, “Put your hands up, you sick deviants!”

 The gang huddled in fear as guns were trained on them. They were surrounded by police cars, a SWAT team, men on horses and a helicopter. A clown and a mime robot were also with the police.

 Verosika sighed in defeat. “Alright, sluts, get ready to suck a lot of pig dick.”

Her gang members groaned in disgust as they raised their hands in surrender.

[helisol]

ye s, well

it basically came to me like a prophet receiving a vision from an angry god. you know. like brian david gilberts video ideas but with more slow burn.

no really i wrote all this down in my phone’s note app because some nearly coherent things popped up in my head every time i was on the train or bus these last few days.

(after-actually-writing-this disclaimer/note: this is 2000 words of slightly edited rambling about Bagginshield in the Afterlife. i had to put it in a read more.)

so the gist of it

the botfa goes just as in the movie with minor details altered. like bilbo kissing thorin just before he dies which inadvertently causes a ripple in time and space that makes the valar curious of them both. you know. minor stuff.

so bilbo goes back to the shire, the war of the ring goes down, and the hobbit/elf gang sails to valinor at the end. classic stuff, not much alternating of universes here.

but here’s where things turn into the “my city now” meme because DUDE DO I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT VALINOR AND HOW THE AFTERLIFE WORKS

like, I’m sorry mister jolkien rolkien tolkien, but just putting people into a hall to await being judged like a hospital waiting room? snooze, that’s boring!

so first of all, and you can fight me on this, Yavanna Made The Hobbits And You Can’t Change My Mind.

it just makes sense for her to have been very saddened by the destruction of literally all her work on arda through melkor’s poison, so she made living, growing things that could protect themselves from harm. as opposed to the ents, by the way, which were made by Eru to protect all the other living, growing things. it was a nice gesture of Eru to make those, but not quite what Yavanna wanted or had in mind, i imagine.

as with the dwarves, Eru wasn’t all happy about the existence of another race he didn’t make but you know, whatever, ‘I’ll just let this married couple have their own kids aside from mine, it’s okay’.

so he hands both the dwarves and the hobbits independent thought and free will, but under the condition (and here is where the afterlife stuff comes into play) that Aule and Yavanna be responsible for their mortal creations after their death. meaning that both races have seperate afterlives from the halls of mandos, MEANING THAT ITS COMPLETELY FINE FOR AULE AND YAVANNA TO BE LIKE “oh look honey, these two are so very in love and remind me of us, shan’t we do something about that?”

so. they do something about that. more precisely, they rearrange their afterlife-realms so they’re next to each other and someone with enough willpower could cross through the barrier. because listen, they’re valar, they can do whatever they want just for kicks.

okay so after that tangent lets get back to the meat of the matter: gay dwarves. I know not everyone has read Sansukh, a 500k word mammoth of a fic, and I don’t really intend to copy any of det’s canon, but their version of The Halls of Mahal really inspired me. basically the dwarven afterlife is one big hunk of a mountain/underground city where they’re free to live their days until dagor dagorath doing what they do best in the company of their families and friends; like smithing, crafting, building and other JustDwarrowThings.

meanwhile the hobbit afterlife is Basically The Shire and instead of being given the materials to build things, all the hobbits who go there get to grow plants and do their gardening. they don’t have to- just like none of the dwarves have to craft stuff- since there’s always enough food for everyone, but they are just allowed to do what they do best if they so desire.

now when Bilbo arrived in the undying lands he was still Old As Hell and im sorry to put it this way, he definitely kicked the can after like, a week of living there. not really so undying, them lands, huh. anyway Bilbo bites the dust and LOOK AT THAT he’s suddenly young again, and another LOOK AT THAT he’s standing in a very comfy, but Not Quite Bag End hobbit hole that has a note hung up on the front door. you wouldn’t think gods could have handwriting but hey, again, they’re gods they can do whatever. the note just tells him that yavannah made this place special and just for Bilbo but that there’s another home waiting for him. very cryptic there, lady. he doesn’t leave at first because hey, his family is here. there’s a lot of reunions and celebrating and food because its the fucking hobbit afterlife, what else would you expect

it takes him a few days of Regular Hobbit Life in his new home to realise ‘holy shit, this is so boring’ so what does a Fool of a Took do when things get boring and there’s a note urging him to do something?

HE’S GOING ON AN ADVENTURE

so Bilbo runs through the whole not-shire, meeting all sorts of people he outlived on the way (looking at you, Lobelia), as well as some elves. because elves can definitely just waltz through all the afterlives. they can walk on top of snow, you think they wouldn’t walk around wherever they please in valinor? rip to mankind, but they’re different.

he gets to the furthest reaches of it eventually, and lo and behold, what awaits him but the view of a tall mountain, an invisible barrier and a very flustered Thorin who is at his wits end as to how Bilbo even got here.

now for thorin’s part of the story we’ll have to start after the botfa again. he basically woke up in the darkness like an episode of naked and afraid, and started talking to Aule. his maker, who loves him to bits by the way since he made thorin, just tells him he’s free to go wherever his heart takes him. again with the cryptic messages from the gods.

so thorin, still very self-loathing and bitter because of his actions right before his death, sees this as Mahal’s way of saying ‘please don’t step foot in my halls u disgusting litle creacher’, when really he just meant ‘please do some well deserved self reflecting and then come inside to be with your family, they all miss you terribly’.

after his chat with the maker thorin just spawns in right at the front gate of the mountain and he has a choice to make. go inside or stay outside. and we all know Thorin’s proclivity for drama so he basically spends LITERAL YEARS just living in self imposed solitary confinement.

oh also tiny hc here, thorin was said to have taken “any work offered to him in the towns of men”, and they showed him in a smithy, but personally I believe they meant it when they said “any kind of work”. so basically thorin is a jack of all trades, master of some. he definitely has master-level skills in certain areas though, enough to build a vaguely hobbit-hole shaped house. why is it hobbit hole shaped?

oh right, the part where Thorin is absolutely enamoured with Bilbo.

"Go back to your books and your armchair, plant your trees, watch them grow. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”- HELLO? GAY POLICE? I’D LIKE TO REPORT A CASE OF ‘DWARF KING REALISING THAT THE HOBBIT WAY OF LIVING IS A REALLY GREAT ONE IN CONCEPT / WISHING HE COULD HAVE HAD THAT KIND OF LIFE WITH BILBO’

anyway it’s a long 80 years until Thorin does get to meet Bilbo again, and in the meantime we have one of my favorite additions to any Hobbit fanfic ever: Frerin

For the uninitiated, Frerin is Thorin’s brother. They also have a sister, Dís, but Tolkien never specified when she died and she was a bit younger than Thorin and Frerin so I reckon she’d still be alive as an old dwarf lady somewhere?

Anyway, Frerin. Oh boy. Sansukh, again, does an excellent job at turning Frerin into a character with a level of authenticity that gets real fucking close to Genuine Tolkien™, so most of my own characterisation of Frerin is based on that in Sansukh. With the important omission of the dwarves not being able to see the present/their still alive loved ones in middle earth through a magic mirror pool.

so Frerin takes it upon himself to leave the mountain in search of his brother because he really does want him back. but also because Mahal has had it with Thorin’s antics and suggests Frerin fetch him so he can finally reunite with his family. Mahal doesn’t talk to the dwarves a lot because he’s like an awkward and distant dad, but he does actually speak to them.

so Thorin is supposed to go see his family, which he does, but not immediately. it takes like, a solid year of just brotherly (and sister-sonly) companionship for him to open up about all his anxieties and regrets and THEN he goes into the mountain to cry in his mother’s lap. as you do.

however Thorin still feels like he doesn’t 100% belong with the other dwarves in there, so he frequently spends long stretches of time outside, building away at his house, thinking about Bilbo. the company goes out to visit him sometimes.

more details on the house tho, cuz it’s Important; it’s built halfway into a hill near the mountain, like a proper hobbit hole would be, but the lower levels are built into stone. look, he’s had 80 years to work on constructing this. it’s near perfect in every way for both hobbit and dwarf standards and could definitely fit the entire company and more inside.

now about the barrier. elves can pass through without a second thought because they’re shiny little bastards who just get to do all the cool stuff, but the other races can’t just hop between realms like that; they really have to muster up the willpower. which usually means they can’t do it because a drawback for both dwarves and hobbits is that they favor isolation from other races even in death, and as such don’t want to mingle with each other.

unless you’re Bilbo Badass Baggins though, who simply runs through the barrier to yell at Thorin for leaving him sad and alone for 80 years. he is that bitch.

there’s gonna be some legolas and gimli shenanigans if i can fit them in (cuz i dont know when exactly they sailed west together), possibly a mention of tauriel because bruh peter jackson did us dirty by not giving her any closure besides ‘lol i guess she’s banished from mirkwood??’ and Mairon. because. I also have some thoughts about him.

also Fili and Kili as pseudo matchmakers because every fic needs that

and did I mention there’s gonna be hozier lyrics for chapter titles

i said this was the gist of it but i somehow ended up at ~1900 words. well, more power to me.

[madsciencestudent]

5 Fave Male Characters

Tagged By: @pandoramusicbox09

Tagging: @enelle2890, @paper-doodle, @sleepy-shark, and anyone else who wants to do this.

(Oh geez, here we go. XD)

1. Steven Universe

Okay let’s get the show that ripped my heart out last out of the way first. Steven is the pure cinnamon roll on this list, and why he’s my favorite. Steven in the original series was the compassionate male hero I always wanted but never realized I wanted! I did have an issue with him always putting others before himself, but then the creators turned around and BAM! Addressed it in Future with a poor 16 year old who’s trauma finally caught up to him and manifested. Steven is a newer character, I’ll admit, but his stories and development into a hero and then a struggling young adult just... Sticks with me.

2. Orochimaru

Smart, mysterious, dangerous, a ‘mad scientist’, even if it’s for selfish gains he takes in the lost, abused, and abandoned, cynical and wanting to watch the terrible world he lives in burn, an Asexual Icon even if the homophobic and transphobic fans like to say otherwise (all those jokes about him being ‘gay’ or ‘wanting to be a woman’ were NOT meant to be empowering but derogatory-I was there I KNOW THE DIFFERENCE), and with absolutely BEAUTIFUL hair and eyes, awkward weeby teenage me was obsessed with the best character in Naruto. And never really got over it. I stopped following one of the most popular manga and anime the first time the Sell Out of an Author tried to make it look like asshole Sasuke was better than him, and thankfully the character was never ruined for me like I know he was for others and the series as a whole was the longer it was milked for money. So Orochimaru remains the same dangerous and well written villain he was when he first pulled off that face in front of Anko all those years ago to me.

3. Alastor

Another newer character, Alastor is one of those fun yet deadly villains that is also layered. He was a serial killer in life- which if properly written can be interesting in his development and spiral down the path for becoming a serial killer- and a powerful demon in death. There is a lot of potential there for him to develop into a fascinating character as well as a mysterious one. Everyone else in the series seems like they can be redeemed and actually change their after life, but Alastor is the one who seems like he’s going to drag all of them back to Hell and is going to be there true threat of the series. Yet, he also seems like the one who is necessary for the others to access the resources they need to turn their afterlives around. So there’s more conflict there. Are the resources they’re receiving from him actually what they need, or is he undermining them at every turn disguised as aiding them? He’s fun and impossible to get a decent read on!

4. GraveRobber

The character that gets things rolling in Repo! The Genetic Opera, and mostly acts as the narrator in the final cut of the film, GraveRobber is exactly what his name says. One of the poor souls who fell into Geneco’s debt trip and now works as a drug dealer and grave robber (in order to actual get the drug from corpses’ brains) to get by in the world built on organ failures and capitalism! GraveRobber doesn’t have a lot to do in the final film, but his songs and guidance of the main character are an excellent touch. He also adds what I think is a main undercurrent of the film- none of the characters are truly ‘innocent’ or ‘pure’ like most media portrays; they all have some undesirable parts and ways to get by.

His actor is also one of the writers and performers of the indie stage shows that inspired the film (who did in fact write the film) and whom I’ve met in person, and he was very nice when we interacted.

5. Sweeney Todd

Well, since he IS the title character of my all time favorite movie, I better mention him here. Also fun fact he’s the inspiration behind the one black streak I have in my hair which sort of became my own brand over the years SOOOO- Tragic and vengeful, Sweeney Todd is just... A complex character who’s been kicked around by the corrupt system and world enough that he gives into the darkness and wickedness of it all to become his own monster at the end. (He killed the woman he loved and who he thought he was avenging the whole time!)

Honorable Mention Since I’m Not Sure Where This One Fits Anymore:

Cell

(I can hear @paper-doodle​ from here and @sleepy-shark​ calling me out for the Weeb I am. XD)

So... Cell is a favorite all time character of mine without a doubt, but given my thoughts and headcanons I had developed for him when I used to RP him on here and still use to this day.... I kinda don’t entirely classify him as a ‘male’ character anymore? I mean I kinda do but- IT’S COMPLICATED. It is pretty well established that in the manga Cell is referred to with ‘he/him’ and ‘it’ pronouns (even more so in the English dub of the anime I first grew up with because MANLY ANIME IS MANLY and woman can NEVER be that buff right that’d just be ugly (I’m being sarcastic if you can’t tell)) but it’s mostly other characters using those pronouns when talking about Cell. And because Cell technically is classified as ‘female’ by human definitions when it comes to reproduction (if an multicellular or macro organism is capable of asexual reproduction- like Cell is (see Cell Juniors)- then they’re usually classified as female), and at least in the manga Cell doesn’t seem to give a flying fuck about anything that isn’t fighting related, I kinda got to wondering about whether Cell does view themselves as male or female or both or neither. Eventually I developed the headcanon that Cell honestly doesn’t care one way or the other; people can call Cell whatever pronouns they want and Cell will just roll with it (so basically Agender with no pronoun preference), though Cell will pull out the ‘you know, by human definitions, you know I’m a female, right?’ line whenever a sexist is mouthing off near them because the dawning fear and back tracking fuels Cell. Cell has mostly gone with the male pronouns though since those are the ones used the most when applied to him, but like I said, Cell can change gears pretty quick based on the other person.

Sooooo, yeah. Canonly and a majority of fandomly speaking, I guess Cell is still classified as a male character, but since I developed a different view on him.... Eh? I guess I’m in the Cell is Nonbinary Camp so maybe Cell shouldn’t really be on this list. But again, Canon and a majority of Fandom and his own flexibility in my headcanons makes it complicated so Cell gets a special mention.

[sciencelings-writes]

What is Dead May Never Die

ENDGAME SPOILERS 

Post-Endgame Guardian Angel AU

The last thing Tony saw was his family. A selfish part of him wished that his little Morgan was there, but he was glad that she wasn’t. This would be hard on her if she even understood what was happening. His wife, his beautiful perfect wife crouched in front of him in her new cool-toned armor, trying her hardest not to break down. Behind her was Peter with Rhodey’s gray metal arm around his shoulders, both with tears in their eyes, but Peter’s were a little more apparent. He seemed to be trying he hide it with his hands over his mouth but his red-rimmed eyes were heartbreakingly obvious.

Tony knew that he was only moments away from death, he could feel it looming over him and he was paralyzed. He had never been afraid of death, only of leaving. He didn’t want to leave his wife or his best friends or his kid… kids. He didn’t want to leave Morgan or Peter. He wished he had reached out to Harley more, he could raise Morgan more, he could protect Peter more. He would do anything to stay. To not have to know what his death would do to the people around him.

He thought about Peter, and how it would be worse for him because it wasn’t the first time for something like this to happen. He regretted thinking about it, at least Peter was alive. Tony sacrificed his life to keep it that way. Peter may be traumatized and broken-hearted but he was alive. They were all alive.

The last thing Tony heard was a sob. He knew it was from Pepper, when she thought he had bit the dust. But he had a single moment left. He used it thinking about the people he loved. He was content.

He didn’t think that there was anything after death. He had always believed the grimmest of afterlives, that there was just darkness. He would just stop existing. However, he wasn’t right about that. He entered the light and there was something more. He tried to convince himself that it was an illusion, but he was glad that it wasn’t when his vision cleared.

“Good morning Shellhead, I’m glad I’m not the only one that ended up here.” An ethereal version of Natasha Romanov smiled down at him and held out her hand to help him stand up. She looked pristine and almost glowing. Her short curled hair was bright and looked like it had been animated for a Disney movie and her eyes were greener than ever. That wasn’t the strangest thing though. On her back were a pair of elegant sharp wings. If Tony knew better, he’d say she was an angel. They started out as red as her hair at the top but the feathers became more frosted white as they went down. She looked like she was part hellfire and part cumulonimbus cloud.

Tony honestly didn’t think that his friend could look more beautifully terrifying.

“You look good for being dead,” Tony took her hand and sort of floated to his feet. It was an odd feeling. Being dead felt really weird in a way that he couldn’t explain. Light, painless, warm, relaxing, he didn’t remember feeling anything like it.

“Surprisingly enough, so do you.” Nat quirked an eyebrow up.

“Oh! Are there mirrors in hell?” Tony looked around.

“We didn’t sacrifice our lives to end up in hell. We have a much more fun job.” She smirked.

“Does the job require… uh, wings? Nice foliage by the way.”

“They’re a perk. Apparently, sacrificing yourself for the universe is pretty noble in the eyes of whoever watches over the dead. We’re not just ghosts now. We got an upgrade.”

“What in the everloving Christ do you mean. Can you speak like a normal person?”

“We’re guardian angels now. Apparently, heroes stay heroes. Except we’re a little more anonymous now. I’ve never had that as a problem but you might have to get used to it.”

“Does that mean… I can..” Tony stumbled with a thought. Nat’s eyes softened.

“You can watch over your family. They can’t see you, I already tried to see Clint but he passed right through me. We can only protect them now.”

“I don’t care I just want to see them,” Tony said with a soft sob.

“You will.” Nat nodded. “It just may not be as kind to you as you think it will be.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tony never thought that he would be attending his own funeral. It was just self-centered enough to annoy him. It also annoyed him to see everyone so… broken and depressed. Maybe annoyed wasn’t the right word. It felt like being stabbed in the chest even though he was already dead. He hated seeing his family all huddled together with tears on their cheeks and haunted looks from the ones who witnessed it.

He hated that Morgan didn’t understand and that Peter understood much too well. He hated that Pepper could barely hold herself together and that Harley had to stand alone at the back and barely anyone knew who he was. He hated that even people he thought hated him stood with their eyes down in respectful sorrow.

He tried to keep an eye on everyone but decided that after Peter muttered something to May and departed from the group, he decided to follow him. He realized why he followed when Peter started to sob, far away from the group, so that no one would hear his despair, except for the person he was despairing over.

Tony walked silently in front of his kid. The kid that didn’t see him. Tony didn’t care, he reached out his hand and wiped the tears from his cheeks. Surprisingly, he could. Peter’s sobs slowed down and took a shaky breath. With an ethereal hand on Peter’s back, Tony led his boy to a bench at the edge of the lake, where they could only see the floral memorial floating only a dozen feet away.

“I’m sorry Tony…” Peter whispered.

“Don’t you fucking start-” Tony stated, knowing fully well that Peter couldn’t hear him.

“I can’t- I can’t live without you… I’m not… strong enough.” Peter stammered.

“You are the strongest person I know.”

“I already lost my parents and my uncle and now you… is it going to be May next? Am I just cursed because it definitely feels like it. I’m not… god, what did I do wrong to deserve this. Was I like, Hitler in my past life? Did I like, kill Abraham Lincoln or Jesus? Oh my god did I kill Jesus.”

“You didn’t kill Jesus, the universe just wants to get even because you’re too… good. And the universe is kind of an asshole.”

“Anyway, I’m sorry that you won’t see your little iron kid grow up or you won’t… god, I remember planning on inviting you to my graduation… and… shit, you’re going to miss so much.” Peter stumbled.

“Nothing’s going to keep me away from my family, not even biting the dust,” Tony promised to deaf ears.

“When you’re up there… say hi to mom and dad… and Ben for me. Tell them that I miss them. And I already miss you. I love you Mr. Stark. You were the closest thing I had to a dad when I had thought that there wasn’t a chance of getting that kind of thing ever again. I… You helped me. So much. It’s easier to convince myself that you weren’t stuck with me.”

Tony didn’t, no, couldn’t reply. He knew that Peter clung to him like the father figure that he so desperately needed but he wasn’t aware that Peter felt guilty for even existing. When he thought about it, he could see it. After his parents had died, Richard Parker's brother Ben took Peter in. Peter wasn’t biologically related to May. He thought he was too much of a burden on her. He honestly didn’t completely understand how goddamn much she loved him.

Tony considered that the kid's guilt complex was just as annoyingly persistent as his own. He really wished that it wasn’t, that shit was self-destructive and Peter really didn’t deserve anything like that. Peter Parker deserved more than what anyone in the universe could give him. Peter Parker deserved every good thing and yet if given the chance, would give it all away to someone he deemed needed it more despite needing some for himself.

Tony didn’t know exactly how he did it, but he knew that Peter needed someone, someone he could relate to and he knew that he couldn’t let the kid be alone, without comfort. If Tony couldn’t hold his kid in his arms, he was going to find someone who could. And it had to be someone new. Someone he knew would get along with Peter. He didn’t know exactly what he did, but he somehow connected them.

“Peter?” Harley asked from several feet behind them.

“Oh shit, sorry. Was I…” Peter quickly straightened up and wiped the leftover tears from off of his cheeks as if it wasn't completely obvious that he had been crying.

“No, I just left to get some fresh air, even though we were already outside. You know he talked about you, right?” Tony’s other almost son sat by Peter on the bench, close enough to activate the emergency half hug if he needed to.

“Oh god…” Peter groaned with some exaggeration.

“Nothing too bad. You’ll be glad to know that I thought you were a nerd before I knew you were a five foot three dumbass.” Harley smiled warmly, meaning no harm in his words. He was the kind of guy that called his best friends dumb bitches as he held them in his arms.

“Yeah well that’s not hard to tell, I’m pretty sure that one local paper has me on record saying some pretty nerdy stuff as well as Buzzfeed. I think they made a compilation of the dumb shit I’ve said…”

“Yeah, Tony printed it out and hung it in the lab.”

“He did what?” Peter looked over with an aggressively confused expression.

“He did, he also has one printed of his own combacks to compare you humor to his own. They are surprisingly similar. He just tends to reference older movies than you do.” Harley shrugged.

“Okay that was like one afternoon, I didn’t do it often.” Tony sighed, still thinking to verbalize his thoughts as if anyone could hear him.

“I mean I totally got my humor from him. Captain America just isn’t as funny.”

“You’re damn right.” Tony scoffed.

“He’s only ever accidentally funny like he’s never trying to be and it just happens. It’s mostly just funny to make fun of him.” Harley explained.

“So Tony told you about Cap. I never really knew much about him, I had Tony right after the whole civil war thing and they had too much bad blood to talk about super casually. I never really got the chance to figure him out.”

“There isn’t really much to figure out. He’s the definition of a righteous dumbass but at least he’s becoming more self-aware. Also, I think you’re trying to avoid talking about Tony.” Harley's words made Peter avoid his eyes and become entranced with a single blueish rock on the ground. Harley activated the comforting half hug and Peter leaned in without a moment's hesitation.

“I guess there was a reason for that… I want to pretend that he’s not gone even though I heard his heart stop beating. I want to believe he’s still around, spying on me and sending vague texts about what the baby monitor protocol picked up, just to show that he was still watching even though I’m very sure he was constantly checking in with Karen to see if I was doing anything stupid.” Peter rambled.

“He is… was pretty clingy.”

“Hey! Excuse me for caring…” Tony groaned.

“We should probably get back to the crowd. I wanted to meet Thor…” Peter sighed and stood up.

“Yeah, and I want you to meet Morgan, she is an absolute gem.” Harley smiled. “Tony told her about you so she might immediately claim you once she figures out who you are.”

“I have high expectations then.” They started to walk away from Tony before Peter looked back a little confused.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just… I thought I saw him… God, I’m deep in denial...”

“Come on, I think you need a nap or something…”

“Okay…” Peter sighed as his eyes scanned the area and hesitated right where Tony was. But Peter didn’t see him. Tony stood there in thought, Peter… saw him. Even if only for a moment. Only a glance. Tony wasn’t completely invisible and he was desperate to run with the hint of an idea.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Peter admitted, he was not handling Tony’s death well. He couldn’t go to sleep without dreaming of the moment when he was gone. He woke up gasping and with May running into his room to calm him down. He always said he was fine but they both knew that he was having a rough time. And she knew that this wasn’t something she could fix.

For some reason, it was different than when Ben died. It shouldn’t have been, it felt the same, but it wasn’t. When Ben died, Peter didn’t see him everywhere like he was alive.He didn’t see Ben out of the corner of his eye but he still felt the warm blood on his hands. Peter just kept seeing Tony out of the corner of his eye but when he did a double take, he was gone. Like he was never there. He was starting to think that he was going crazy.

It was only after several events that he began to realize that he may not be crazy and that something more was going on. First was the pictures. Whenever he took pictures, there was an odd little blob of light in a bunch of them, some of them blurred for no reason and sometimes there was an indistinguishable figure.

Then weird things happened when he was on patrol. He used Spider-Man as an escape even though hearing Karens voice and being in the suit was hard. He would do his normal thing of quipping with criminals who tried to take advantage of the world being in disarray and every once in a while, weird shit happened. He would have a knife thrown at him and before he could dodge, it would be knocked out of the air by nothing. He would be being shot at and not a single one would even graze his body even though the chances of that were minuscule.  

Along with the visual hallucinations, he had auditory hallucinations. He heard Tony. Well, not really. It was like he could predict what the man would say in his mind while his memory playing tricks on him. It happened constantly. When he woke up, he “imagined” Tony telling him to wake up with a sarcastically optimistic phrase, when he had a nightmare he thought of what Tony would do to comfort him and when he was alone there was always Tony’s voice keeping him company.

So, he was going crazy. Until it started to make sense. Until he started to learn more about the paranormal. He realized that Tony’s spirit was still around to annoy him. It made it a little harder to deal with the loss but when he realized that Tony was still there, he didn’t want to ignore it. He wanted to contact his deceased mentor.

Peter got prepared. He watched a bunch of ghost hunting shows to get ready for something like this and he managed to acquire everything he would need. Spend the weekend at the Starks lake home, check. A really sensitive microphone, check. An Ouija board that Aunt May forbade him to use, check. A camera to document it all, check. The Iron Man build-a-bear that Morgan let him borrow, check. His emotional support rom-com queued on the TV, check. He decided that he was fully prepared for his totally scientific experiment.

Of course before he was able to execute it, he had to have a family dinner with Pepper and Morgan and Harley and he ended up having to do most of the cooking because Harley was entertaining Morgan and Pepper had last minute work to do. Thankfully, Peter was better at cooking than May and not only did nothing set on fire, but the actual food ended up not being too bad. It could’ve been classified as pretty good. Peter told them how he used to help Ben make food because May was always back late from work and she could never make anything more complicated than pasta.

They all tried to make conversation as if they weren’t all heavily traumatized. Thankfully, Morgan was unaware of the constant haze of depression in the air and she talked as if nothing was wrong. It was refreshing. She blabbled about anything she could think of and truthfully Peter couldn’t understand most of it but Pepper and Harley, who had experience with small children, translated as if it were another language.

After dinner, Peter hung out with Morgan while Pepper and Harley did the dishes and cleaned up. It took a lot of focus to figure out what Morgan was saying but he eventually pieced together that Tony had actually told her about Peter. She latched onto him with impressive speed and accuracy. It took him two full hours to convince her to get off. And he could only do that when he promised to tell her a story which ended up being him telling her about the time Tony went in disguise to his school and used his civilian name of ‘Anthony Potts’ to check him out for a mission that ended up just being a movie marathon because he discovered that Peter had never watched Monty Python. May ended up getting mad but not for long because Tony let her join them.

Then Morgan asked him to sing. She said that her dad did it when she had nightmares and she wanted to make sure that she would have good dreams. Peter wasn’t strong enough to say no so he sang the Italian lullaby that May had put back into play after his own nightmares had come back in full force. He would be embarrassed about it but it was one of those things that helped more than he was willing to admit. It made him feel safe and nostalgic like looking at an old book that he used to love or listening to a song that had been his favorite so many years ago.

His voice wasn’t bad, it just wasn’t anything unique. It was gentle and deeper than his speaking voice but at least he wasn’t tone deaf. Peter sang until he could hear Morgans breathing and heart-rate slow down enough until he was pretty sure she was asleep. When he snuck out of the room, Pepper gave him a look which revealed that not only did she hear him but she thought it was precious. She smiled when his cheeks turned pink in embarrassment.

“Don’t you dare…” He unsuccessfully threatened.

“Come on Peter, that was adorable.”

“My fragile masculinity is on the line, Mrs. Stark.” He defended as she huffed out a quiet laugh that tried to be quiet as not to wake her kid.

“Well, I think you’re making a great big brother. How are you so good with kids? Does May have any siblings with kids?”

“No, but Spider-Man has to deal with a fair amount of children so I guess I got used to it. Even to a point where I had to take care of an infant for a full six hours after this really stressed lady left it on the subway and she cried when she saw me.”

“And the kid survived? Well, count me as impressed.” She patted the seat next to her. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Nah, I was planning on communicating with your husband with ghost stuff before it gets too late.”

“If a demon possesses my house then you have to call Doctor Strange. I feel like he would be able to deal with that type of thing.”

“Well, yeah, I don’t think a demon will come through though.” He flopped next to her on the couch and she automatically wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “But if one does, I’m sure we can take an impromptu trip to New Asgard while our magical doctor takes care of it.”

“I like the way you think. So, why are you suddenly interested in summoning the ghost of my spouse?”

“There has been some weird shit going on that I think is paranormal and might be Tony following me around. I don’t know, it’s hard to explain but maybe if I can talk to him, I’ll be able to find out what’s going on.” Peter shrugged.

They talked for a while, Peter trying to explain what had been going on and why he thought it was Tony, Pepper seeming a little doubtful but not explicitly so. Eventually, Pepper decided to go check up on Morgan and leave him to his ghost hunting.

Peter lit some a bunch of random candles, a handful of them being strongly scented from some store specifically for stuff like that. He set up the camera and the sensitive microphone before putting the Oujia board on the coffee table and the Iron Man build-a-bear on his lap. He took a breath before starting the session.

“Mr. Stark... If you’re here, can you uh, make your presence known?” His fingertips lightly rested on the planchette and waited for something to happen. Then the rolling piece of wood started to move without him putting much pressure on it. It pointed at the letters in the order of ‘H-E-Y K-I-D.’ Which is very much a greeting Tony would use. Peter smiled and felt oddly giddy.

“Okay uh, cool.” Peter tried to process the implications while the planchette moved again. This time it spelled out E-V-P.

“Oh, you want to talk through the microphone?”

‘E-A-S-I-E-R’

“Are you too impatient Mr. Stark?”

‘K-I-D’

“Okay fine, the microphone is already connected, go wild.”

‘D-O-N-T-S-A-S-S-M-E’

“You’re too dead to tell me what to do.”

‘R-U-D-E’

“What I want to know is if I can get you back. Not like a zombie but I want to… I want to see you. I want to talk to you. If we can figure out how you can mess with technology, we might be able to make somthing that could… be you.” Tony didn’t respond. Not using the Ouija board or the EVP. “I’m getting you back Tony. I can’t… I can’t live without you.” Peter played back the recording a second later and sobbed when he heard Tony’s voice. Not only was Peter not crazy but what he said made him feel like someone took his heart out and squeezed it.

‘I’ve never left you.’ his voice was filled with static and it took a few tries to hear the words but when he did, he froze in place.

“We’re going to find a way. Your daughter deserves to know her father.”

‘You deserve to have one too.’

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was not easy. It took months of constant effort and repeating tests over and over. It took weeks of sleepless nights and a couple of frustrated meltdowns but finally, Peter found something that Tony could manipulate well enough to actually show himself. He appeared in the form of a blue hologram and Peter finally saw the true form of his father figure. Tony had big fluffy wings that he said were red and gold but it didn’t translate very well with the blue hologram but they could figure that out. He couldn’t focus on the success, he had to make sure that everything worked. He made Tony talk to him and when there wasn’t any interference, he choked back a sob.

Then there was the physical test. Tony reached out his hand and Peter met it with his own, completely expecting it to pass through like it would with a normal hologram. But when their hands met, he felt it. Tony was actually there. Not quite like a real person but it wasn’t like a ghost. It was difficult to explain, but Tony was there. And Peter couldn’t control being buried in a hug. Tony used his wings for the hug too like having two extra arms and Peter had never felt safer. It took a few minutes before he was able to let go.

Tony was back, and Peter refused to lose him ever again.

[what-even-is-thiss]

Original work, Mythos

Okay, I’ve gotten a few requests to post some original content on here. If you’re on my tag list and just wanted to be added for the fanfics feel free to ignore this. Today I just finished an assignment for my creative writing course so I thought I’d post them here. There are two short stories that take place in the same universe and all the stories are meant to be able to be read on their own but all still connect into part of a bigger story. The first one is a second draft, the second one is a rough first draft and still needs a lot of revising and polishing.

To read these you need just a little background info of the universe. It takes place in a version of our world where multiple pantheons of gods exist at the same time. There are some beings called cross pantheon deities that happen when two gods or goddesses from different pantheons accidentally meet and shenanigans happen. The main character of the first story is a daughter of Freja, Norse goddess of beauty, and Ra, Egyptian god of the sun. Her half brother/twin’s dad is Zeus. I think you all probably know who that jerk face is.

And yes, twins can have different fathers. It’s called Superfecundation. Look it up. Also, I used some German in the second story and I’m still learning. I say this because I know some German speakers follow me and I would like to apologize ahead of time for the mistakes I probably made. Es tur mir leid.

Warnings: Cussing. Dead people. Like... rotting flesh is described in the first story. And there are a few slurs said by the same character in the second story.

First story: 2,733 words.

Second story: 3,951 words

Mythos: What the Hel Were You Thinking?

     Talyn took careful steps down the icy slope. She couldn’t really see anything down here. Her sharp eyes had adjusted somewhat, but they were made for seeing a long way in full daylight, not the full darkness of a world with no sun or summer. All that was really visible to her was the vague outline of her own dark hand in front of her and even that was becoming harder to pinpoint.

   How long had she been walking now? Hours or days? She was starting to feel a bit of anxiety about the whole situation, but not enough to turn back. She had to do this. She had to know. Nobody else had to, but she did. This was personal. Something Talyn had been meaning to do for decades. She was done waiting.

    The air grew colder and the downward slope of the tunnel became even steeper and more slippery, forcing her to dig her spiked shoes deep into the ice, so she suspected that she was getting close. Either that or literally every account she’d ever heard of this place over roughly 50 years of living with other immortals was fake. The thought of the possibility of lies being circulated for so long added with the growing cold made her antsy. She pulled her long braids to the side of her neck and then pulled up her hood for both comfort and warmth. She had taken more after her dad in most physical respects so the cold was difficult, to say the least. If Deon were here…

    No, this isn’t about Deon. This is about Talyn and what she wants. Not Deon and his worries. If he can’t understand why she wants to do this then he might as well be...

    Crunch.

    She almost fell over as she was startled by the sound of another pair of footsteps digging their sharp shoes into the ice. She smelled the air. It was rancid. Oh, gods. It was a dead person.

    Sure enough the rotting shape came closer to her. It smelled, even in the freezing cold of Helheim. It had breath worse than some dragons she had met. It stood uncomfortably close and leaned in, going far past the boundaries of her comfort zone.

    “Begone!” she ordered. “I don’t give you permission to speak!”

    The dead person didn’t talk but they didn’t move either. They probably sensed that she wasn’t a goddess of the underworld and had no real control over them, but they also couldn’t speak unless they were spoken to, and if that speaking to specified they couldn’t talk then that was that. Such is the burden of the dishonorable dead.

    “Why don’t you leave?” she barked. “And that wasn’t an invitation to speak!”

    They still didn’t leave. Eventually she groaned.

    “I don’t have time for this. Don’t talk! I’m not in the mood to deal with tortured souls I don’t know. I’m going on. And I still didn’t invite you to speak!”

    She started shuffling forward, her own spiked shoes crunching as she pushed them into the ice. Predictably and disappointingly, the dead, rotting soul kept time with her, following her through the passages.

    As they moved along, the slope of the tunnel got steeper, but thankfully some light also appeared. A depressing light that Talyn couldn’t do anything with because it wasn’t from a sun, but at least it made it easier to see. The downside to the light was, she could see her companion now.

    They appeared to be a man, but she reminded herself not to assume gender. Talyn Decided though that referring to the old dead person as “he” probably wouldn’t offend anyone that could tell her off for it. She figured the way his pale grey face was falling apart slowly and the smell accompanying it was probably more offensive anyways.

    Suddenly, there was a rumbling and a booming deep female voice came from down the tunnel.

    “WHO DARES?” it screamed hysterically. “ONE OF THE VANIR? WHO DARES?”

    “Um… Hi, Hel.” Talyn said as charmingly and confidently as she could under the circumstances. “Long time no see.”

    She felt like a magnet was pulling her forward and suddenly her body was moving so fast that all her senses became a sickening blur. When she finally fell over and regained her senses she found herself fallen at the feet of a woman much shorter than her but with a much more terrifying appearance. The right side of her face was pretty, maybe even hot. Nice cheekbones, pale skin, sleek black hair, green eye that kind of looked similar to her own. But the left side? It made the rotting old man that had been following her look like a candidate for the nine world’s sexiest man. Not that the nine worlds as a whole had an award like that but… oh right. Death goddess. Angry death goddess. Stay on track. Even if she is kind of hot in a weird zombie way and… no, no. Don’t think about that.

    “What the fuck are you doing here?” Hel asked angrily, her rotten arm crossed over her live one.

    “I wanted to ask…” Talyn began,

    “Oh, you want your mommy back?” Hel asked in a mocking tone. “I know who you want to see. What I don’t know is what you think gives you the right to come barging in like this. I’ve told you before, you’re not a messenger, you’re not family, you’re not dead, you’re not welcome here. The dead stay dead, sun goddess. Now give me one good reason why I shouldn’t send you running.”

    “Well, for one I don’t want her back. I just want to see if she’s here.” Talyn said, standing up and showing how tall she was. “I don’t know if there’s a version of her in any of the afterlives and I want to see. And another thing, oh miss high and mighty, you don’t treat the dead too well. I saw an old man walking this way on my way down and I think he’s been wandering for a while because it sure smelled like it. At least in Egypt we have a guide book.”

    “The souls will find their own way.” Hel spat. “You don’t need to know about anything. And will someone get that man with the rest of them?”

    Talyn had been so overwhelmed by the sheer number of rotting souls around that she hadn’t smelled that the dead old man from before had caught up and was standing behind her.

    “What? When did you get here?” She asked.

    “Just now.” Said a strained voice in English. “Thank you for letting me speak, young woman. I think it will help you. Tell your brother that Jake says hi.”

    She tried not to cringe as his rotting hand lovingly patted her hooded head before he turned around and was led away by another rotting corpse-like soul.

    Oh crap. She had let him speak. And he knew what that meant. Obviously Hel knew what that meant too, and seemed to take that as her cue to become even more of an asshole than usual.

    “You know what? You know what? I think that you should stay for a visit. Detain her!”

    “Ah, nice. You really know how to show a girl a good time.” Talyn said, pulling a silver and gold sword out of her belt that had been hidden by her long coat. “Well, might as well have some fun before the cavalry gets here.”

    Dead souls wearing various military uniforms started appearing from behind ice columns and Hel’s ugly stone throne and began closing in. Obviously warriors that had died dishonorably or of sickness rather than combat and didn’t get into one of the more interesting Norse afterlives. This should be fun. Talyn lifted her sword in the air and the Norse runes etched onto it glowed blue while the Egyptian hieroglyphs burned red. She screamed out a war cry like a true shield maiden and began to charge the rotting souls when a pair of hands grabbed her waist.

    In the span of a few milliseconds she felt her body break into billions of different things and everything went black. Suddenly she was everywhere at once, spinning through the air and yet somehow contained. She could see nothing and yet everything at the same time and was pretty sure that if she still had a heart it would have exploded out of shock. Nothing could describe her anger and confusion as she spiraled through the air, part of it and having no control over where she went.

    When she landed and her body became whole again, it felt like she was made out of lead and so, she did the obvious thing and fell forward. The same pair of hands that had grabbed her before grabbed her again and helped her stand up. She struggled against them and pushed them off but then fell over and found herself face first in sand.

    Talyn spat and started trying to rub the sand off her face and avoid getting it in her eyes as she turned around to face the one that had taken her from the world of the dead.

    “I had things under control! Why did you come after me? I know Heimdall sees everything but you don’t always have to come running when he thinks I need help!” She said, surprised at the hurt in her own voice.

    The young looking man in front of her gave off a vibe like he was a parent that had just caught his kid trying to sneak out at night. His eyes were just the right shade of blue to make it feel like he was trying to drill a hole through your skull if you looked at them for too long. He was exactly the same height as her but from the way he carried himself if you saw them side by side and tried to remember who was taller later you’d think it was him.

    He said nothing.

    Talyn stared him down, used to his eyes and parent-like gaze. Neither of them said anything for a minute that seemed to last for years as the sound of the ocean failed to calm anything down.

    Eventually that parental gaze fell and Talyn started to actually think about what he must be feeling. The smallest amount of guilt moved into the other mix of emotions swirling around in her head and so she guessed she should say something.

    “I… I’m sorry, Deon.” She said. “But next time could you give me a little warning before you turn me into wind? It’s so horrifying when you’re not expecting it.”

    “No.” Deon said tightly, obviously fighting back tears. “You don’t deserve warning. I… ugh. I just… Why?”

    He crossed his arms and closed his eyes as a shiny yellow liquid started leaking out of his eyes.

    “Why?” He said. “Why?”

    Talyn shrugged off her snow jacket and walked to him. He looked almost like a ghost in the dim lighting of the dark beach. She gripped his shoulder, trying to seem reassuring and not think about how much he looked like their mom in that moment.

    “I really, really needed to see her.” Talyn said. “You weren’t supposed to know until I found her. It’s just… Freja doesn’t…”

    “Feel like a real mom?” he asked pointedly. “Do you think I’ve never thought about going down there? I was raised by mortal parents too! I miss them, sis. It’s… Hel is crazy, Talyn. And she has millions of dead souls that have to listen to her. What did you think would happen? Going to a place where you have no power? With no sun? Where you could be killed if she tries hard enough? I don’t know. I really don’t. What were you thinking?”

    “I thought I would see my mom.” She said, not backing down. “I’ve seen the underworld in Egypt. She’s not there and this is the only other place I could look. Happy? This is why I don’t tell you things. You try to get to the bottom of it. And I’m pretty hard to kill anyways.”

    “But not impossible to kill.” he said.

    She let go of her twin’s shoulder and not for the first time thought about how different they were. Not just their appearance. It was something that went beyond skin color and having completely different but equally horrible dads.

    “And you would sure care.” She snapped. “You can’t die. It’s literally impossible. Aren’t you the lucky one?”

    “Oh yeah.” Deon said, angrily picking off some of the gold that had solidified on his face from crying. “Probably someday gonna end up maimed and chopped into tiny pieces in a hole somewhere with nothing to look forward to but the end of time. It makes so much sense for me to be reckless!”

    His voice had been raised. Talyn could see that he had realized it too late and froze there. Despite the cold sea air around them, everything felt stale and without movement.

    After a tense minute they took in a deep breath and sighed together, understanding. Understanding too much. They had gone through this conversation before. So many times. Now it just felt real. Like they couldn’t just end it here like they usually did. But they would. It would end here and they would go back to pretending that it was okay.

    “By the way,” she said, avoiding looking at those terrifyingly blue eyes, “Some dead guy named Jake says hi. He was the one that talked to me, giving away my position.”

    Deon cracked a small smile and wiped his eyes, spreading what looked like dark yellow glitter all over his hands.

    “Jake, huh? So he finally kicked the bucket. Good to know.”

    “Who is he?” Talyn asked.

    Deon smiled, looking like he was starting to see whoever Jake was through nostalgia goggles. He sure had that tone of voice as he said “Just an old family friend. Nobody important anymore. But he got you to talk to him. So, yeah.”

    “I guess I’m going to have to be punished for going down to Helheim now.” Talyn grumbled.

    “Are you ready?” Deon asked. “We should probably get going soon. This is a public beach and we’re both carrying weapons and like.. I’m kind of in my pajamas. And you’re…”

    “Snow gear. Yeah.”

    A soft glow began to shine over the trees. So they were on the west coast of somewhere. Probably Oregon, judging by the landscape.

    They didn’t leave immediately. They stood in silence for a while while Deon stared out at the waves and Talyn worked on getting as much sand out of her clothing as she could.

    “There’s no Egyptian god of the sea, right?” Deon asked eventually.

    “No, genius. There isn’t. I’ve told you before. River gods, not sea gods.”

    “Greece has several sea gods.” He remarked.

    “Are you seriously trying to make small talk right now?” Talyn asked as she used him to lean on while she took off one of her spiked boots to shake wet sand out of it.

    “Maybe. You’re taking long enough for me to. Are you ready to go yet? I’m surprised we haven’t been caught by a morning jogger.”

    She put on her boot and picked up her snow jacket. “One second and then we can go and see what horrifying project mom has for me now.”

    Talyn faced east and held a middle finger to the sky and then walked back over to her brother.

    “Okay. Said good morning to dad. This time I’m driving.”

    “I still hate you for this.” Deon said as she took his arm.

    “Sure you do. I hate you too, little brother.”

    “You’re five minutes older than me! See, that… that only makes me hate you more.”

    Not able to keep a straight face anymore they smiled and laughed at each other and then in a thought seemed to melt away. The twins of summer together became one with the sunlight, moving along its rays, becoming the opposite of that icy slope down to Hel. One with the warmth of the Earth and independant of the air and ground, the summer sun took took the wind with her and for a second, only a second, it felt like there was nothing bad ahead.

Mythos: Wind and Rage

Deon instinctively went for the baseball with his right hand instead of his left and immediately regretted it.

“Son of a…” He started, before catching himself.

The half Japanese boy in front of him was clearly stifling a laugh.

“Did you almost just say bitch?” he asked, clearly amused. “You? Deon Eriksson? Swearing? What will I tell your mother?”

“Jake I swear to Vanaheim…” Deon said through the pain.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Are you alright?” He asked, still looking amused as he walked towards his friend.

“I’ll live, obviously. I don’t think anything is broken.”

Jake took his friend’s hand, which was much larger than his, in his own, inspected it, and seemed to think for a minute before he nodded thoughtfully in agreement.

“Maybe we should buy another glove.” He said, smiling. “One that works for left handed players.”

“I think I’m done for the day.” Deon said.

He released his left hand from the glove and removed his baseball hat, revealing that his head was so covered in sweat that it was making his blonde hair look brunette. A few tears of pain had escaped his eyes and had solidified into metal. He picked them off of his face with a wince of pain.

Jake picked up the baseball off the ground from where Deon had dropped it and tossed it in the air and caught it again. He took the glove from his friend and started catching the ball in that as they walked down the road.

“I’m always surprised at how much pain you can stand.” He said, almost missing the ball.

“Immortal and all that.” Deon said, rubbing his wrist.

Deon put the cap on backwards, messing up his hair even more. His face was red from the summer heat and throwing hardballs for Jake to catch all morning. They only had one glove and so when Jake could convince the young god to play catch it usually just consisted of Deon pitching and Jake catching it and then throwing it back gently. This time he had somehow convinced Deon to try to catch it, but both of them had forgotten for a moment that Deon was left-handed and so had been conditioned to catch with his right hand and throw with his left.

“So where are we going? I’m not going home.” Jake said, after a long silence.

“What’re you itching so hard to ask me about?” Deon said.

“How do you always know that?” Jake asked.

“I’m the son of a love goddess. It’s all just feelings. You’ve been itching to ask me something all week since I got back. I’ve already told you your dad isn’t worth visiting. Frey is a lot more full of himself than the stories would make you believe.”

“Okay okay okay,” Jake said. “I’ve been thinking about something since you left.”

“Yeah? I know. Just tell me what it is.” Deon said, the smallest bit of frustration leaking into his voice.

“So, all the time we were growing up you never told me there were Greek gods. You didn’t tell me you were immortal neither.” He said.

“Haven’t I apologized for that like a gazillion times by now?” Deon asked.

“Yeah yeah yeah, it’s just… why didn’t you tell me? And what are they like? I mean, son of Zeus? How does that even happen?”

Deon stayed silent for a moment. He stopped walking and Jake looked back. He was heading towards the park. Jake followed him behind a clump of trees in the park next to the Hohenbrink’s house.

As soon as he went behind the trees he found himself pulled downward and onto the ground. Deon looked around and then started whispering very carefully.

“Look, you’re a demigod. Demigods only belong to one thing. That’s it. You’re not even supposed to know about other pantheons of gods. Do you know what would happen if either one of my immortal parents found out I told you?”

“They’d freak out?” Jake guessed.

“Yeah, they’d freak out.” Deon said. “And you know what happens when gods and goddesses freak out?”

“Tidal waves?” Jake guessed.

“Worse than that.” Deon said. “You know what happened last time my dad got majorly pissed? Hurricane Carla! He tried to wipe out Texas, Jake.”

“He didn’t do a very thorough job though.” Jake mumbled.

“Did you hear anything I just said? We shouldn’t be talking about this. There are eyes and ears everywhere. There could be things listening in these trees or in the rocks.”

“Yup!” came a cheery voice.

Both young men jumped out of their skin and fell over at the sudden noise. When they looked up they found themselves looking up at a woman that seemed to have bark for skin and long straight hair made out of the same branches and pine needles as the ponderosa pine tree they had been hiding under. Her clothes seemed to be woven out of pine leaves and were clearly inspired by the hippies and new age spiritual people that tended to wander around this part of Oregon.

“Ah great. A nymph.” Deon said.

“Do you uh… know this lady?” Jake asked. “She doesn’t look…”

“Norse? Because she’s not.” Deon said, getting up. “She’s greek. A tree nymph. So, are you gonna rat me out to my dad now?”

“No, honey.” She said happily. “I hate him. He and I don’t have a very good history.”

“You and everyone else he’s ever come into contact with.” Deon said. “What do you want?”

“Well you’re rude, aren’t you?” She asked, tossing her pine scented hair behind her.

“I’m a god of the air. Plants never bother me unless they want something. Now let’s get it over with.”

Suddenly an angry voice came from the window in the house by where the small grove of trees was.

“Hey Jap! You and your retarded boyfriend get off our yard!”

“Oh, christ.” Jake mumbled. “This is a public park you ass! It just happens to be next to your house! And he’s not my boyfriend or retarded!”

“Fuck off!” came the voice, whose owner appeared outside in the form of an angry teenage boy in his pajamas.

“You fuck off!” Jake yelled at him.

He turned to the nymph. “Does he do that to everyone?”

“Yup.” she said, flipping her hair again. “Far too noisy.”

“Seems like something he’d do.” Jake replied.

“Who are you talking to you yellow skinned…”

“I can pound you into the ground and you know it, Michael. Now piss off!”

“I think you’re barking up the wrong tree here.” Deon said nervously.

“What are you afraid of him for?” Jake asked. “You could turn him into a grease spot. It’s not like he can see her anyways, right? He thinks we’re talking to a tree.”

“We are talking to a tree, and just because I can turn him into a smouldering pile of ashes doesn’t mean that I should.” Deon said through gritted teeth.

“What are you two homos talking about?” Came the angry voice of Michael.

Jake could feel his heart rate increasing as their neighborhood’s resident conservative maniac angrily crossed his own property line and began approaching them.

“Quickly, what do you want?” Deon said to the tree spirit.

“So needy.” she said. “Fine, I want to be moved. I want somebody to put in a word with Demeter for me.

“Okay, tell me your name and I’ll do it. We need to go.” Deon said.

“I’m a ponderosa pine.” She said.

That didn’t really answer his question but they started walking away when Michael grabbed Jake and pushed him up against the tree. The lady in the tree vanished from Jake’s perspective, but from Deon’s ten more appeared, coming out of all the trees in the park. Many women with bark for skin and hippie dresses coming out to watch the show.

Deon panicked. He could see the murder in his best friend’s eyes. Jake, as a demigod, easily had the strength and reflexes to kill Michael. As horrible as Michael was, Deon wasn’t really the type to kill mortals, even if they were horrible people. He saw the nymphs gathered around to watch and in a split second made his decision.

“Scare him and I’ll talk to Demeter about this whole park!” He exclaimed.

The women in the pine needle hippie dresses looked excited. Immediately several roots escaped from the ground and began weaving their way around the racist’s legs, making him drop the “Jap” in his shock. Jake looked surprisingly horrified by this new development, but before Deon could ponder this he had already followed his first instinct and grabbed Jake by the shoulder, turning both of them into wind and air and leaving Michael to the mercy of the hippie pine trees.

    Deon knew his way through the air currents. He had first discovered he had been able to ride them when he was a little kid and had met his birth father for the first time. Now at nineteen he knew them like he knew interstate 5 or the shape of the capitol building in Salem from all the trips his parents took him on in grade school. He knew the feeling of carrying another person and being one with the wind like he knew just how to work a rosette iron in the hot oil just right to get the fried dough perfectly crisp or how he knew how to work his fingers at lightning speed to comb out and style his twin sister’s hair when they were visiting each other.

    So, when he suddenly felt a knot in his stomach and felt Jake and himself twisting in a direction he hadn’t planned for, he knew he had lost control. He mentally held onto Jake tighter, hoping to whatever mercy and grace there might be in the universe that whoever had ahold of him wouldn’t suddenly force the son of Frey to materialize over California and go splat next to some suburban neighborhood potluck while Deon was dragged through the wind currents towards Greenland or something. Deon did a mental shudder at that. He had seen too much of Greenland already.

    They passed south and west, hundreds of miles out of their way. Over the endless miles of green forests and lumber farms of Oregon, across the border over the golden state, bypassing the checkpoints that would search your car for any suspicious looking fruits, going as far south as Sonoma county before flying over the cold gravely beaches and out into open water.

    He had just wanted to get to the other side of town. He would curse the gods, but seeing as he was one and this could also be considered rude, he settled for staying quietly irritated.

    Finally, he felt the familiar sensation of his body returning to normal, but this time it was against his will and it made him feel sick to his stomach. He was feeling so distracted by this that he almost forgot to catch his passenger.

    As he caught Jake, he noted that the expression on his face reminded him of the time he had seen one of his thousands of half siblings on his dad’s side get impaled through the skull with an ice pick during a family dispute over the results of the 1963 world series the previous fall. That is, the expression of a confused and angry LA Dodgers fan that had temporarily lost control of some of his essential motor functions.

    Deon steered the angry Dodgers fan over to a nearby trashcan so he wouldn’t vomit all over the tile floor. The summer heat was almost nonexistent here. They were too high up for that. A familiar face smiled condescendingly, as Greek gods tended to do when confronted with misbehaving youngins. His giant wings went nicely with the backless t-shirt he had presumably screenprinted himself that had a poorly drawn version of the beatles’ logo on it. It seemed that beatlemania had grasped the west wind since Deon had last seen him. As had slightly too tight bell bottom jeans.

    Deon walked across the spanish tile towards his superior and left Jake dry heaving over the trash bin in between exclamations of “what the fuck!?” and “I hate you I hate you I hate you so much.”

    “Hey little man. Taking your cousin out for a ride?” Zephyr asked, his too perfect teeth seeming to mock Deon with every square millimeter exposed.

    Deon knew Zephyr liked nothing more than to rile people up. He liked to try to push Deon to his limits because although the young god was quite emotional, he was slow to anger. And common knowledge dictates that people that are slow to anger are monumentally dangerous when they finally snap. To the west wind, however, this wasn’t a terrifying prospect. Just Wednesday night entertainment.

    Deon put on his neutral face and calmly said “I’m six feet tall. You are not. I’d hardly call myself little.”

    “Okay, little man.” Zephyr said, winking. “Why’d you bring a Norse demigod into my air?”

    Jake couldn’t quite make out what Deon was saying. It felt like his head had been put through a blender. Once he felt like he had sort of regained his balance he tried to asses his body. It was, in fact, there. The way Deon had described air travel was nothing like Jake had imagined it. He hadn’t imagined getting vomit on his oversized white button up shirt either. Where was Michael? Where were he and Deon right now?

    He leaned on the trash can for support and took in the scenery. It seemed like they were in the dining room of an enormous Spanish style villa with large open windows. He could see through the large windows that they were not, in fact, on the ground. They were in the air. Not even resting on a cloud. No back patio. Just a floating mansion.

    The house wasn’t the only thing floating either. Tables and tablecloths seemed to move around of their own accord. A vinyl record labeled “England’s Newest Hitmakers-The Rolling Stones” came out of a basket and placed itself on a nearby record player.

    As “Route 66” began playing through this surreal space and Deon, his blonde hair even more windswept than his now wrinkly striped t-shirt, continued to ask an invisible figure not to tell anyone and explain something about an impulsive mistake Jack began seriously considering the possibility that he had landed in some bizarro version of the Christian hell. He had seen quite a few things in his short 20 years. Viking zombies, the moon himself complaining about Neil Armstrong, the tree that kept reality itself from crumbling, a dwarf wrestling a small dragon the size of a cat, and his mother’s infamous attempt at making noodles, to name a few. But none of that weirded him out as much as this.

       “What the Hell?” He managed.

       Deon turned around and a man with wings seemed to materialize next to him. A man that couldn’t seem to decide if he was going for a British look or a counter culture look and had just found a horrible in between.

       “Hey, Viking boy.” The guy said.

        “Who are you?” Jack asked, now more disgusted than confused.

       “Zephyr. West wind. And you don’t belong here.”

       Deon started “It was an accident, sir. If you would just let me…”

       “Ah ah ah. Nope. You brought a Norseman through my airspace and my little birdies tell me you weren’t on Norse business. Now how am I supposed to react to that? Hmmm?”

       “I was just trying to get to the other side of town. If you hadn’t forced me off course he wouldn’t even be in your territory. You were just looking for any reason to get at me.” Deon said.

       “Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. In any case you’re here now and it’s my word against yours. You’re what? Nineteen? Who will believe you? I’m five thousand.”

       “So wait a minute.” Jake said, stumbling away from the trash can. “You want to get him in trouble? And you dragged me into it?”

       “Terrible for inter pantheon relationships, isn’t it?” Zephyr Said, a hideously perfect smile on his face. “It’ll be the biggest setback since since the twins!”

       “You mean…” Jake said.

       “Yeah, he means me and Talyn.” Deon sighed.

       “Wait, are you telling me this hippie or whatever he is, with his moving furniture and gods know what else is looking to start conflict?” Jake asked.

        Zephyr roughed up Jake’s already messy, windswept black hair and laughed at him. Normally this sort of patronizing gesture would have caused the perpetrator to find themselves judo flipped onto the floor, but seeing as this was an old god…

       “Oh, you stupid boy.”

       Don’t fight him don’t fight him don’t fight him don’t…

       “You stupid little Viking man.” Zephyr continued. “You can’t see the wind spirits because they don’t want you to see them. Your buddy here can see them, can’t you boy?”

       Deon didn’t say anything, either because he was being defiant or was so anxious he couldn’t talk. It was always hard to tell with him.

       When Deon didn’t answer the other deity flipped his Detroit Tigers baseball hat off and laughed at him when one of the semi-transparent women floating around the room snatched it away. Deon watched her tease him about it. He felt ready to fight her, but internalized it. He didn’t particularly like baseball or the Detroit Tigers but his sister had given him that hat, dammit.

        His anxiety increased. Jake looked like he always did right before he started a fight. It was that same look he had earlier that day when Michael had pinned him to a tree. He had panicked before when that had happened, now Jake was staring down someone that could easily turn him into the late Jacob Haruto Nakamura with a snap of his fingers. Well, Deon could do that too but it wasn’t like he wanted to.

        Miraculously, Jake restrained himself. Zephyr put his arm around both of the young men’s shoulders, pulling Deon down and forcing Jake to stand up on his toes.

       “I was just messing with you. Calm down!” He said, laughing a laugh that made Deon want to cry.

       As soon as he let go Jake started smacking Zephyr repeatedly with his baseball glove out of frustration and yelled in a combination of Japanese, German, and old Norse. Deon couldn’t understand Japanese but he figured from the Norse and German words that Jake was saying some extremely offensive things about Zephyr’s mother, that, if he could understand it, probably would’ve gotten Jake killed right then and there.

       After getting bitch slapped and having a copy of “Introducing: The Beatles” thrust into his hands, Jake seemed to calm down. He didn’t seem any less furious, but he did calm down.

      Deon quickly reclaimed his hat, took ahold of his friend, and flew them off as quick as he could.

       “Ich bin genervt. What was the point of all that?” Jake asked Deon in German as they started breaking tree roots off of the now sleeping Michael Hohenbrink in the dark.

       “The point of what?” Deon asked in response.

       “What was the point of him grabbing us? He was breaking the rules and you weren’t.”

       Deon sighed as he casually broke off another root with one hand. “The bigger gods don’t always have reasons why they do things.”

       He paused and suddenly seemed to be a lot older than nineteen. His steely blue eyes and pale skin  almost made him look like some kind of ghost in this lighting.

       “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll be like that in a thousand years. Probably not though. I’m even further down the drinking table than you. In some circles mortals are more important than me. But then again…”

       “Then again, what?” Jake asked when it was apparent the sentence had stopped.

      Deon smiled as he lowered the mumbling Michael down to the dirt. “Then again, mortals are more important than us.”

       He paused again in his speaking and his smile faded as they began to walk out into the street, leaving Michael and the sleeping tree nymphs where they were. Jake had known Deon long enough to be able to read his silences.

       “Was denkst du nach? You want to tell me something.” Jake said, handing the baseball over.

       Deon’s sad smile returned as he tossed it in the air and caught it. “Bist du psychisch? How did you know?”

       “Well dad didn’t give me any funny emotion powers and mom is only human, but I know my best friend. Now spill. Um den heißen Brei herumreden nicht. You always become no fun to be around when you bottle things up.”

       “How considerate of you.” Deon said, switching back to English. “Well, first of all, I never liked baseball.”

       “Tell me something I don’t know. Come on. Tell me.” Jake said, elbowing him in the ribs.

        “Alright. Alright. I’ll confess.” Deon said. “I’m not going to Portland state next semester.”

       Jake swallowed. “Are you… taking a semester off?”

       Deon’s eyes started sparkling gold at the edges before a few small tears came out of his eyes. He wiped them away with the back of his hand and they spread all over it, making it look like he had touched a pile of yellow glitter.

        “I’m… I’m quitting for good. Over the summer I switched between Vaneheim and Olympus and both places think it’s time I get a job.”

       “But…. wait.” Jake said. “What…”

      He was about to say “What about me? I just got you back.” But instead stopped himself and said “But what about your parents? You’re still living with them. Right?”

       “Mutti and dad know already. Dad took it better than I thought. Mutti didn’t. Maybe it’s the recovering Mennonite Brethren mindset but she seems to think I’ve betrayed the family. Dad’s calmed her down for now but I don’t know if she’ll forgive me.”

       “Will I see you anymore?” Jake asked as they got to his house.

       Deon sighed. “Not much. I’d really rather you didn’t get involved with what I have to do. I want you to live a long time. And if you’re gonna do that you should stay away from gods as much as possible I think. And I’ve changed my mind about you meeting Talyn.”

       “What? Why?”

       “Dummkopf. You’d be fighting her in less than ten minutes. I know both of you.”

      “Don’t call me a stupid head Eriksson.” Jake said, punching him in the arm.

       Deon smiled and handed the baseball back to his friend.

       “Goodnight, dummkopf. Don’t get yourself killed while I’m gone.”

       He disappeared like smoke and Jake started walking towards the house. Judging by the burning smell, it seemed his mom was trying to cook again.

       As he opened the door he heard yelling.

       “Haru! Where were you?”

       He dodged the wooden spoon his mother swung at him with and then pulled it from her hand.

       “Have you been getting into fights again?” She asked.

       “No, mom. I promise.” Jake said, cautiously handing the spoon back to her. “I got caught by some demigod stuff. A wind god.”

       “Was it Deon?” She asked, going back to the clearly over cooked soup.

       “It wasn’t his fault, mom.”

       “He’s good, Haru. A good friend, but you should stop talking to gods. I worry sometimes. You keep me awake at night.”

       Jake sat down at the dining table. As he put his glove and ball on the table next to him he realized just how exhausted and hungry he really was.

      “Alright, mom. I’ll keep that in mind.”

[kathyprior4200]

Helluva Boss (Remix)

Not too far away from Pentagram City lay a shady place in the bowels of Hell. “Welcome to Imp City: est. 1981” was posted on a worn wooden sign with a white painted eye toward the top. Under a crimson sky, a wide array of buildings made up the city, some with spikes on the roofs. Downtrodden imps of various colors and sizes mulled around the streets and ghettos. Mugging, sex, drugs, poverty, and murder were common aspects of their everyday afterlives. Indeed, being considered “lesser demons” and the “lowest of the low,” not very many had opportunities granted to them.

Well, save for a unique family of imps, trying to get their business running.

 Just who were these imps?

   A nearby screen showed old fashioned numbers ticking down, 3, 2, and 1. Blitzo, a red and white faced imp, appeared on stage in front of purple open curtains. “Hi there, I’m Blitzo, the “o” is silent, and I’m the founder of I.M.P.” He put out his hand and the logo appeared above it. The “M” in I.M.P. looked like imp horns, black and white in color. Down below were the words “Immediate Murder Professionals.”

Blitzo spoke again. “Are you a piece of shit who got yourself sent to Hell?” A picture of Blitzo with a mustache and two black top hats over his horns was grinning evilly as a building burned in the background. The sign nearby read “Orphanage for elderly, blind, and newborn dogs.”

“Or are you an innocent soul who just happened to get fucked over by someone else?” The next image showed Blitzo in a white angel costume, throwing away a Styrofoam coffee cup in the garbage in an office.

In the next shot, Blitzo held up a sign which read “Some guy who hired us!” A buff horned red demon wearing a white Ohio shirt stood not too far from the camera, a 666 News billboard in the background. He punched one fist into his hand.

“After lovingly killing my wife for fucking a delivery man, you can imagine my surprise when I wound up here, after the state of Ohio killed me. I really wish I could stick it to that yapping charter who saw me hiding the body!”

Blitzo appeared again, this time with his fellow imps Millie and Moxxie in the background. A white-clothed altar with a mirror and skulls on it was in the very back. White candles were spread around the room. The two imps were sitting at a pentagram drawn on the floor. Blitzo held a blue Satanic ritual book in his hand.

“Well, luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world…”

He waved his hand and a flaming portal appeared in the center of the room, causing Moxxie and Millie to scatter.

“…we can help you take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who may have screwed you over when you were alive!” He happily fell through the portal on his back.

 Then the musical jingle started:

 “When you want somebody gone

And you don’t wanna wait too long

Call the Immediate Murder Professionals”

  “Whether grenade or cyanide

We’ll make it look like suicide

The Immediate Murder Professionals”

 “We do our job so well

‘Cause we come straight up from Hell…”

 “We’ll kill your husband or you wife

We’ll even let you keep the knife,

 The Immediate…Murder…Professionals.

 Kids die for freeee!”

  A white person appeared with a thought bubble of his enemy with a red x. A demon fell to the floor and the person looked up. The I.M.P. logo appeared, Millie with a spear, Moxxie with a gun and Blitzo in the middle, spreading out his arms to make an “M.”

Fast paced shots flashed through the ad.

 Moxxie throwing a grenade out a window as his companions grinned.

Blitzo hanging a person in an office building while Moxxie watched. Millie held a piece of paper in her hand.

 Then more killing scenes flashed: Blitzo electrocuting a person, Millie using a mace, Moxxie choking his victim.

 Blitzo led the way through a portal to Earth, Millie and Moxxie following. Moxxie tripped on a book and landed on his face while the others posed. They then stood shocked…at the people in a church staring at them.

Millie killed a naked couple with a chainsaw while Blitzo looked greedily at a woman’s underwear.

Blitzo repeatedly stabbed someone else tied up.

The three imps used more methods to kill Earthlings: Medieval torture racks, shark attacks, fire and gasoline, pillow suffocation, crushing someone to death with a grand piano, electrocution in a lab…

 “Kids die for freeeee!” ended the ad.

 Moxxie and Millie sang a murder love song in their living room before the meeting. Moxxie played on his purple guitar as Millie watched him with love in her eyes. It reminded them of the good times when they would shot at demons together in the streets, drag a bloody sack behind them and when Millie got a grenade as a present and used it to blow up a building.

  “Oh what a thrill when the crimson starts to spill

And my Millie goes in for the kill

She takes away my breath

She’s the angel of death for me

Oh Millie

Queen, it’s like a dream

When I hear her victim start to scream

Get him out of the sack

She’s a maniac for me

Oh Millie

When the blood starts dripping down the sides

And the bodies start to fall from the skies

My heart skips a beat

When my Millie’s guns a blazing in the night

That’s in love

She makes the murdering fun for me

A lottery for all the wins of Hell

It’s for her that I fell…”

 Both of them hummed before Moxxie finished,

  “Of all the imps in Hell…

Millie joined in, “It’s for him that I fell…

“Oh Millie.” They leaned in for a kiss.

  They paused. Moxxie yelled, while looking out the window. His boss, Blitzo was pressed against the window with a video camera. “Are you fucking filming us right now?!”

Moxxie sighed, as a smiling Blitzo held up a sign which read “Meeting in 20 min: nice job banging yo’ wife!”

     Just before the meeting, the head imp, Blitzo walked into the receptionist room.

“Blitz!” called Loona, the hellhound, holding a bone shaped phone in her hand. “That clingy rich asshole’s on the phone! Says it’s urgent and wants to talk to you!” Then she added in a lower voice, “Sounds a little DTFy.” (Down to Fuck)

Blitzo spilled water on himself as he talked with Moxxie by the water cooler. “Oh god that was one time! We wouldn’t have access to the living world…if I hadn’t slept with that privileged asshole!”

“You what?” Moxxie asked in disbelief.

“Blitz!” Loona barked in outrage.

“I heard you already!” Blitzo yelled. He stomped into his office and picked up his red cell phone. He played with little bobble heads of his imp coworkers, Moxxie and Millie. Signs were tacked to the wall, reading: “The Incredible Blitzo! One night only! Tickets now at the Big Top!”

 “So…” Blitzo beamed nervously, “What can I do for you, Stolas?”

The owl overlord replied, lounging on his couch in a royal red robe and a crown.

“Remember that time when I told you that a political candidate was causing problems on Earth? That he tried to convince the world that global warming existed?”

“Yes?” Blitzo answered.

“And that it does, but more people die when nothing’s done about it? Oh, how lonely I felt.”

“That make sense,” Blitzo said.

“But now…” he hooted in laughter. “There are tons of new sinners coming down here every day! I just had a feast and a murder party several nights ago. I wondered why a horde of people arrived and it’s because of a disease called the coronavirus! My, it’s the best thing to ever happen since my wedding with my queen Melody and my darling daughter Octavia’s graduation from flight school. Oh, how marvelous!”

“Well…I’m very happy for you, sir,” Blitzo said. “I hope that…corn-ah virus does its thing.”

Stolas sighed. “My wife wasn’t happy with me, though. She said you fell onto a cake in the middle of a lunch with the queen and the royal officials. What did you say to her?”

“I said…sorry I fucked your husband.” He gulped.

A tense silence.

Blitzo examined his chest and arms. “I still have the talon scars and peck marks to prove it.”

“And she also said that you stole one of my books, is that true?”

“No! No way!” Blitzo lied, with a nervous laugh. “That was another imp long ago. Can I tell you how great it felt…sleeping with you?”

“Indeed,” Stolas agreed with a contented sigh. “Your sharp horns and claws ruffling through my feathers, and my talons and beak exploring your multicolored flesh…”

“Oh fuck a dick…” Blitzo muttered.

Stolas’ eyes grew red. “Don’t get into trouble, Blitzy. When I’m angry…or excited…which I am…I become hungry. Want to know what happens? I want to choke on your ****lick your *****, tear through your **** leave you screaming as I ***** as you scream like a fucking baby!”

Blitzo hung up the phone, the words reading “creepy mouth: aka one night stand bird dick.” and smashed it with another old phone. He threw the pieces into a blender and mixed it up.

“Here, eat this,” he told Loona who walked in and drank the red liquid.

“And you know that bridge over the freeway?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“Shit off it. It’s time for the meeting, let’s go.”

   The imps currently resided in a tall office building that seemed to stand out among the other structures. Along with spikes jutting from the roof and sides, there were a pair of giant black and white imp horns attached to the sides of the building for decoration. The lights inside near the top floor were on.

Posted on a door were the words “IMP Headquarters” with “IMP Meeting in Progress” written on a piece of paper taped to the door, a smiley face off to the side.

On a white board was a bar graph and a line graph, the line graph pointing lower at a drawing of a raging horned demon. “Fix this shit!” was written in big bold letters that took up much of the board. “Blitzo is the best, by Blitzo” was scribbled off to the side. Several tall chairs with spikes jutting from the top boarders were set near a brown table in the center of the room. A white pentagram was drawn in the center of the table.

 Up front, a black, white, and red colored imp paced back and forth, sprouting long curved striped horns: Blitzo. He wore black fingerless gloves with what looked like a yellow eye design on each glove. He was dressed in a slender navy blue business suit with light red buttons. A small round pink pin with black eyes and a stitched mouth was attached onto a red undershirt below his slender chin. What looked like a black two-clawed print mark lay over his red forehead. Along with sharp teeth, the imp has red iris eyes with yellow sclera. Like a typical devil, he also had a red pointed tail. He had four red finger-shaped claws on each hand.

Blitzo began to speak, pacing back and forth. He looked toward his audience of two imps and a hellhound sitting on chairs around a table.

“All right, now I know business has been…a bit slow, lately.”

He mentioned to the board at the downward sloping line. “In fact, there seems to be less people seeking out our services; 1,056 in comparison to the 1,066 from last month. We’ve basically spiraled from the True Blue Market to that of the Raging Bull.” He pointed at the roaring demon head drawing on the board.

“Shouldn’t it be the Bull Market is good and the Bear Market is bad?” said a voice.

“Loona, nobody cares,” Blitzo said. He continued.

 “Any decrease could spell disaster for us, not to mention how lots of people use our services and yet look down on us.” Blitzo cleared his throat and spread out his hands. “Now, I’m not saying it’s, *cough* Moxxie’s or anyone’s fault…”

Moxxie raised his eyebrows. The serious imp had a red face, yellow eyes, white hair framing his face and stripped horns jutting off to the sides in slight curves. He wore a large red bow-tie and a navy blue suit. White freckles were present under his eyes.

Blitzo continued, “…but let’s discuss how we can improve. Now does anyone have any ideas on how to get business drumming up again?”

Millie, the bubbly demon raised her hand. She had a red face, messy black hair with a white flower patch near the top, and short black horns with faint white stripes. Her eyes were also yellow and she wore a black top, black torn pants, high heeled shoes and a little black choker around her neck. Her eyelashes extended past her face.

Millie waved her hand and beamed, eyes shining. “What…about…a car wash?!”

“This is Hell, Millie, no one cares about cars being clean here, okay?!”

 Just then, there came a coughing from the other room. A small cyclops demon with hot pink hair with a patch of yellow opened the door and walked in. She brushed off soot from her hot pink skirt and waved at the group, who stared in surprise.

“Hi, I’m Niffty! It’s nice to meet you. Are you part of I.M.P.?”

“Uh yes?” Blitzo replied, unsure of what to make of this random maid.

“Oh great, because one of my friends sent me here to investigate, he’s a busy chap, you know, and oh so dreamy!”

She darted around the room and began removing cobwebs from the windows. “It looks like there are two men, a woman and a dog here, a nice balance.”

Loona, the grey hellhound glared at Niffty, narrowing her red eyes. “What was that, you little shit?”

Loona had a red cell phone in her clawed paws, the back of the phone displaying a black upside down cross. She wore a grey top with black strings in the shape of an inverted pentagram. A spiked collar was around her neck. Her pants were dark and torn, with a white crescent moon on them. Her feet were bare and her hair and tail were thick with white and dark fur.

 Niffty stopped in her tracks. “Now, did you guys need any cars to be washed?”

 Blitzo shook his head. “We don’t have any cars here, we’re broke as fuck.”

Millie stared at Niffty and cupped her own cheeks with her hands. “Oh my Satan! She’s so adorable! Can we keep her?!”

“No!” Moxxie and Loona said at the same time. The two workers then glared at each other.

Moxxie crossed his arms. “We’re in the middle of a meeting right now. Do you mind?!” He pointed to the door.

Niffty laughed nervously, “Oh okay, sorry about that, hehhehheh. I’ll be outside if you need me!”

She scurried out of the room.

 Blitzo paused for a moment, then said, “Oh right! Ideas for our company!” He waved his hands, his eyes shining. “How about a billboard?!”

Moxxie crossed his arms. “We can’t afford a billboard, sir.”

Blitzo rushed over and held Moxxie in a headlock. His voice was rushed and sarcastic, “So helpful, Moxxie, I’m really glad you’re in the room right now.” He shoved Moxxie away.

Blitzo stared in frustration. “Have you guys forgotten what service we provide?!”

He picked up a remote and turned on an old fashioned TV.

After static appeared on screen, the footage showed the group killing off individuals.

Blitzo bashing a red demon’s head with a mullet.

Moxxie shooting a blue person tied up to a chair.

Loona grabbing a red person in her mouth and shaking the person side to side like a wolf.

Millie beheading a blue person with a spear and laughing.

  Blitzo watched with a relaxed smile on his face, holding up a blue bowl of popcorn. Loona sat on the table, popping popcorn pieces into her mouth. Millie perched on the table, enjoying the show, but Moxxie stood off to the side with a grumpy face.

Posters hung from the walls, one showing Blitzo and his two sisters, Tilla (an imp with long black hair) and Barbie Wire (a smiling imp with ram-like horns.) It was a picture of them at a circus, the banner reading “The Amazing Imp Siblings!” Blitzo remembered the good times he had with them when they performed on stage. Barbie Wire would balance on a tightrope, holding a pole with flames on either end. Tilla tamed and evaded manticores, dragons and other beasts that were released into the arena. Blitzo would sing songs about murdering people and they would all pose and bow at the end as the crowd cheered.

That was before Blitzo moved on to form I.M.P. recruited Moxxie and Millie, and adopted Loona.

 Blitzo moved his hand toward his chest and sighed with content. “Ah, those were good times.”

Moxxie spoke up as Millie ate a piece of popcorn. “We don’t need any reminding, sir, considering you blew most of our salaries on an obnoxious TV ad last week, one that you then additionally paid to have run for a full three hours on a channel, nobody watches!”

Blitzo turned his head, insulted. “Hey, uh, excuse me?” He stood up. “What’s “obnoxious” about a super fun jingle, all right? It’s a fun distraction when an advertisement’s spitting bullshit.” He walked across the room.

“People love musicals, sir,” Millie added.

Blitzo smiled. “Exactly, Millie, and we’re basically doing a musical.” Blitzo did jazz hands before pointing rapidly at Moxxie with a scowl.

“Are you gonna crush my musical theater dreams like my dad did?” He lowered his head.

“Sir…” Moxxie began, but his boss cut him off.

“Because right now, all I see is just my dad’s asshole talking to me, crushing my dreams of being, who I truly am inside.” He turned his head away.

Millie leaned in toward her husband and spoke with a teasing tone. “Are you trying to crush his dreams, Moxxie?”

“I…what?” he asked, looking at her. Millie leaned in close and stuck out her tongue, tail curling. “I thought I knew you.” Moxxie rolled his eyes; his wife loved to annoy him.

Blitzo turned back to Moxxie, tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe you, Moxxie. And after I made you Employee of the Month.” He held a picture of Moxxie with his mouth open in a roar, snake tongue showing.

 Moxxie threw up his hands, “Okay, sir, I’m sorry, but a commercial jingle is not comparable to musical theater. Nobody actually likes the jingles.”

“I liked it!” Millie pipped up.

Moxxie turned to her, finger shaking, “Do not…do not agree with him in front of me.”

 Loona sat, bored, playing on her phone. Moxxie’s head appeared on the screen but was crushed by a weight and then blown up by a bomb. At one point his face was sliced in half as “boom!” flashed across the screen.

 “Remember that actual scene we shot for our commercial on Earth?” Blitzo asked.

 Moxxie got a flashback. “Oh, right. I shot that boy who was walking around licking strawberry ice cream. It was an accident.”

 “And did you know those human nurses and the doctor who beat up the kid on a stretcher and shocked him?”

 “Yes,” Millie said rolling her eyes. “I still remember my line as that pink haired nurse. “Doctor, he’s not responding.”

“Who ordered a stat?” Moxxie repeated, dressed up as a blue-haired man.

Millie laughed, “Then I beat him up and Moxxie said, “It didn’t do anything.”

Blitzo added, “Then I walked in and said “Damn it! We’re not losing another one! “Clear!” Then I shocked him and he somehow survived. I was like “Wow that actually worked.”

 Millie then explained that the three of them sat in the waiting room, with their costumes off. In a separate shot, Blitzo had imitated the human doctor by saying, “He appears to be in stable condition, but he’ll need surgery. Now what kind of insurance do you freaks have?” Then Blitzo said, “The fuck is insurance?”

 Moxxie sighed, “…and then the real doctors came in and kicked us out and we fell back into Hell. Personally, I felt like those scenes were confusing and very risky!”

 “It was brilliant!” said Blitzo. “We all did a great job, and it was in the human world. Why not cover up Moxxie’s mistake with a theater scene?”

 “You’re so dead!” Moxxie seethed, clenching his fist.

 “I know. We’re in Hell. No big deal,” Blitzo replied.

 “But are you sure the doctors were us or where they actually dumbass humans who didn’t know what they were doing?”

 “How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Blitzo replied. “How did that kid manage to survive being shocked so much? Why is it that music logic works on some and not on others? Why even have a Hell that’s a modern paradise and a shabby shithole at the same time? We might as well be in a large cartoon circus being mocked at by other beings.”

 Millie gasped. “Did you just break the 4th wall?”

 Blitzo winked. “Gotta practice my theater skills at some point.”

   Moxxie spoke, hands forward in front of him. “I’d like to go on record and say that incident with shooting the kid was Loona’s fault. Dispatch is supposed to give us the right info on the target. It’s very simple.”

 “Oh sit on a dick, Moxxie,” Loona replied without looking up.

 Moxxie stuttered angrily, looking for a comeback. “You sit…sit on a…a…do your job!” He slammed his palm on the table.

 Blitzo scolded him. “Hey, now we don’t blame our screw-ups on Loona, okay? She didn’t do anything wrong.” He hugged her and nuzzled his head against her cheek, the hellhound growling at him to get off.

 Moxxie stared in disbelief. “Are you kidding me, sir? She’s awful!”

 Lonna looked at her phone. “The other day, right? I answered the phone and said “Hello, I.M.P.” Millie was yelling, “My husband got stabbed!” and then I hung up. Wasn’t my problem. My Hellhound Monthly magazine was much more interesting.”

 “Don’t forget about my adoption anniversary gift I gave you,” Blitzo said, scratching his neck.

 Lonna seethed. “Don’t remind me. It wasn’t a cure for syphilis, I didn’t want it, and it so happened to be black spiders, crawling all over me!”

 “Again, I’m sorry about that,” Blitzo said.

 “God damn it, apology not accepted.”

 “You should be thankful that I rescued you after your hellhound family kicked you out,” Blitzo remarked.

 Loona’s ears twitched. Millie stared nervously. “I was perfectly capable of fending for myself,” barked Loona, looking up from her phone for the first time. “There was nothing special about them, other than all the alcohol, meth and drugs they took. My parents never cared about us. I mean, they sent off my other siblings to work for other overlords and were never seen again. Perhaps I was fortunate enough to not have to deal with them.”

 Blitzo had tears in his eyes. He hugged her again. “Well, at least you’ve got me, Moxxie, and Millie as your new family!”

 Loona hid a smile and just bared her fangs. “Get off of me before I bite your face off!”

Blitzo stepped back.

 Loona then smiled and looked at Moxxie, a look of mischief in her red eyes. “At least it was funny when Moxxie got that weight loss ad.”

 “Why would anyone send me that?!” Moxxie argued.

 “Come on, you know why.”

 “I’m not chubby, thank you very much! Not to mention, you were the one who ate my avocado salad lunch! How rude.”

 “But why would you drink on a workday?” Millie asked.

 “I was hungover from that morning, dumbasses!” Loona said to Moxxie and Millie. “I already told you that. I was getting tired of your petty talks and assaults. I kicked a baby in a carriage and caused some destruction to let out some steam. Felt good afterwards.”

 Blitzo mentioned to Loona. “Look, back to the topic. The point is, Loona is a valued member of our family and we don’t get rid of families.”

 “We aren’t a family, sir,” Moxxie pointed out. “You are the boss. We are the employees. You treat her like she’s some troubled teenager. She’s more like a meth-addicted homeless woman you let man the phones.”

Loona flipped him the bird.

 “That is offensive,” said Blitzo, walking to the window, pulling open the blinds. “Without homeless people, I wouldn’t have half the joy and laughter I do in this life.”

  Outside, a homeless imp with a broken horn and ragged grey clothing held up a sign that read “Monee helps. Satan Bless.” An imp woman with black clothing and little bat wings blushed at Blitzo who waved and did a playful raise of eyebrows before closing the blinds.

 Moxxie crossed his arms. “While we’re on the subject of “family,” can you stop finding me and Millie outside of work?”

“Come on, it’s not that big a deal,” Millie said.

 Moxxie’s eyes grew wide. “Excuse me…what?! He was in our fucking fridge! He was spying on me while I was asleep. And worse, he fucking filmed me and you while we were singing and about to kiss!”

 Blitzo giggled. “I still have it on camera.”

 “It’s fine, honey,” Millie replied to Moxxie, patting his shoulder. “The “spoiler alert, butter’s spoiled!” was a funny use of wordplay Blitzo used.

 “No way,” Moxxie countered. “I had a great dream about my parents being murdered and Blitzo interrupted it.”

 “I was just curious,” Blitzo responded.

 “Just…stop…doing that,” Moxxie growled.

 “I don’t see what the issue is,” said Blitzo. “Something you don’t want me seeing?” A mischievous silly look crossed his face.

 “No!” Moxxie spat.

 “Your baby weiner havor?” Blitzo asked, another term for a small dick.

 Loona giggled under her breath.

Moxxie was fed up. “Sir, what you say and how you act is totally INAPPROPRIATE!”

 Millie pulled him down gently. “Calm down, Mox, you’re gonna have another panic attack!”

 “I AM CALM!” he yelled.

Millie rubbed his head and soothed him. “Shh, there, there.” Moxxie whimpered.

 Blitzo spoke again with a childish grin, making a hole with two fingers and tapping the opening with one finger. “Look, I don’t judge the boring couple stuff you do outside of work hours, so don’t judge me.”

 Veins popped out of Moxxie’s yellow eyes. “Oh I do judge you, sir. Quite a lot, actually.” He crossed his arms as Millie gasped in horror.

“Mox, he’s our boss!”

 “No, it’s fine, Millie,” said Blitzo with a wave of his hand. “Your husband is just…how do I say this without being offensive…retarded.”

 “Does immaturingly insulting me make you feel better about your sad, single, life?”

Blitzo leaned in toward Moxxie. “Yes it does, actually.”

 Loona appeared to agree, because she added to Moxxie, “The only reason you have a wife is because you’re easy to manage.”

Moxxie gasped. She had called Moxxie submissive.

“No he’s not, you turd!” Millie yelled, holding up two middle fingers.

 “Do not talk to my assistant that way!” Blitzo demanded. “She’s sensitive!”

“Yes I am!” Loona barked.

 Then a squeaky voice sounded from nearby: “You guys are fucking assholes.”

Everyone turned and stared at a boy wearing an orange shirt with a planet on it. He had brown hair, a blue baseball cap on and was connected to a monitor.

 Blitzo pointed at him. “Oh shut up, kid, you’re lucky to witness this.”

 Moxxie pinched his nose and sighed in frustration. “Ugh, this company’s such a mess!”

 “Did someone call me?” Niffty’s voice rang from the hallway. She opened the door a crack. “I can clean up any messes you may have!”

 “No!” Moxxie called. “Go away!”

 Niffty slowly closed the door.

 An awkward silence…

 “Alright, let’s get back to talking about my outfit!” Blitzo said out of nowhere.

“Nobody was talking about that,” Loona mentioned.

“Which is why I’m trying to get that ball rolling, so how does it look? It’s good, right?”

 The kid pointed his finger at Blitzo. He ripped off the wires from his stomach.

“It was hell pretending to be paralyzed so you fuckshits wouldn’t kill me, but now? I want that. I want death. You!” he pointed to Blitzo. “You’re a selfish, greedy clown. And I’m a kid! We’re supposed to like clowns…even the creepy ones!”

 Moxxie scoffed. “Hey now, that’s not very…”

 The kid cut him off. “If I wanted to talk to a spineless jackass, I’d rip out your spine and ask you some shit.”

 Moxxie shivered in fear.

 “That’s my husband you’re talking to!” Millie yelled.

 The kid snickered. “That’s your husband?! I figured you for a slut, but I didn’t know you needed it that bad!”  

 Millie fumed at her husband being called ugly and weak. To think that she would have sex with anyone else at random…

 “And you!” The kid pointed at Loona.

 “Yeah? What about me?” Loona asked.

 The kid crossed his arms. “Nothing. I don’t talk to dogs. I’m a cat person.”

 Loona whined.

 “Wow,” said Blitzo. “You know, kid, you kind of are a piece of shit.”

 “Oh you gotta admit, he’s good,” Moxxie muttered.

 A ding came from Loona’s phone. She smiled. “Oh fuck guys, I just got a text from our client. Guess he was the right target after all.”

 “Who?” Blitzo asked.

 “Him.”

 “Me?” asked the kid.

 “Yep,” she confirmed.

 “They wanted us to kill an actual child?” Blitzo asked.

 “That’s what they’re saying,” Loona said.

 Blitzo grinned and twirled a gun in his hand. His job just got more fun and easier. “Well Christ on a stick, I guess there is a god!” He fired and shot the boy in the chest. He flopped down dead in a pool of blood, smoke and sparks lingering in the air.

 Blitzo spoke about I.M.P.: “You know folks, with this company, I really wanted to prove that we’re capable of doing the same things anyone else can, like killing people. So from us here at the Immediate Murder Professionals group, we promise to settle your unfinished business or your money is gone and you’re never getting it back and you can write us a bad review but we’ll play dumb to it because it’s Hell and no one fucking cares.”

 Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie kicked the dead kid on the floor, enjoying themselves. Loona snapped a picture with her phone. After the imps left with the body, Niffty came in and gasped.

“Well, time to clean this up. What a mess!” She hummed a happy tune as she mopped up the blood at rapid speed.

 Blitzo and Moxxie wore gas masks and green suits as Blitzo sawed off the boy’s arm and Moxxie sawed his chest, organs spilling out into a sack below. Millie tossed an arm into the sack and Loona helped hold open the sack. Moxxie dropped the boy’s severed head inside and shared a loving smile with his wife.

 Etched in red graffiti on a dumpster behind them were the words “Devil,” “Hell,” “Happy Hotel,” and “I’m always chasing rainbows.” A pentagram, and wide smiles were also doodled on the surface.

 Blitzo embraced the entire group in a forceful hug, knocking the phone from Loona’s hands.

“You know, even though this kid was a target, he’s still a child. It’s important that we’ve handled this going forward, respectfully.” He wrapped his long tail around the group, all of them smiling genuinely. For despite all their problems, they were still a company family.

   Back in the human world, a crying blonde mother wearing a pink shirt and a necklace held up a paper saying “missing boy.” Below in large letters read on the news: “Mom sucks at drawing own kid!”

 The mother spoke into the microphone, “Please, if anyone has seen my little Eddie…”

She gasped as a sack dropped into her hands. She and the news reporter looked up to see a smiling Blitzo, Millie, and Moxxie through a portal up above.

 “You’re welcome!” Blitzo called with a wave before the portal closed.

The mother looked inside the bag and screamed. “My son! He’s dead! NOOOO!”

   Back in Hell, the three imps laughed out loud.

 “We did the right thing,” said Millie.

 “Yep, at least now she knows what happened to her kid,” said Blitzo.

 They turned around and spotted Niffty finishing up mopping the floor and walls. The water in the bucket was crimson red.

 “What the…?” Moxxie asked in disbelief. “Why is she still here?!”

 “Oh, hi, your back!” Niffty said. “Just in time too! I’ve talked with my friend and he’s coming over to chat with you.”

 “We don’t have time for any more chit-chat,” Moxxie spat. Loona sat in a chair, staring at her phone. “Whatever.”

 There was a knock on the door.

 “Oh here he is!” Niffty squealed and opened the door.

 Blitzo and the others saw a black and white scowling cat demon with red wings. He wore a small top hat and a large red bow tie. His wings had card symbols on it: diamonds, hearts, spades, and clubs.

 “Oh hello, Husk!” Niffty greeted as Husk slouched in.

 Husk narrowed his eyes at Niffty. “Alright, you said that these imps had an underground stash of cash and booze. Where is it?”

 Blitzo shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re broke.”

 “Husk,” said Niffty. “Don’t let this shabby town fool you. There’s loads of treasures hidden in plain sight.”

 Husk looked around as the imps shook their heads in confusion.

“You’re a fucking liar! You thought it would be a big ho-ra to trick me into following you? To meet these clown imps and to find there’s no booze at all? You think I’m some kind of fucking joke?!”

 Niffty just shrugged. “Well, it got you here and that’s the important thing.”

She darted around and shook the imp’s hands. “It’s so nice to meet more friends. It gets a bit boring at the hotel.”

 “What hotel?” Moxxie asked.

 “The Haz…Happy Hotel, of course! The one that princess Charlie runs to help redeem sinners.”

 Blitzo and the others looked at each other, then burst into laughter, while Husk scowled.

 “What? That’s the craziest shit I’ve ever heard!” Blitzo giggled, pounding on the desk. Even Loona howled in laughter.

 Blitzo wiped tears from his eyes. “You’re telling me that Hell’s princess decides to turn sinners into do-gooders? Next thing you know, she’ll make the homeless rich. And I like homeless people too much to let that happen.”

 Moxxie face-palmed. “Why would royalty do something so pointless? If the princess wants to help out, then she should help us imps and hellhounds. We may be hellborn and above sinners, but we’re still treated like scum based on where we live and how easy it is for others to get us into service!”

 Loona nodded. “For once, I agree with him. And I could care less about what she does.”

 “Well, if you ever want to visit…”

 Moxxie glared at Niffty. “No. Thanks.”

 Millie sighed in defeat. “Aw, Blitzo, are you sure we can’t have her around? Or at least visit the hotel?”

 Blitzo stared into her wide pleading eyes and shook his head with a sigh. “I’m afraid Moxxie is right. As fun as it sounds, it’s too risky for us to go there by ourselves. At least not without weapons. Besides, we have work to do here.”

 Niffty mentioned to Husk. “This is my friend, Husk. Though he wasn’t the one who wanted us to come here.”

 Husk scoffed. “I’m no one’s friend. It was annoying enough to get dragged out of the bar and into this shady shithole of a city. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Niffty and that crazy…”

 Husk paused and stared at the hellhound, with wide eyes.

 Loona took out a dark brown bottle marked with three xs on it and took a drink.

 “Is that hard booze?” Husk asked.

 “Yep,” said Loona.

 “Can I have it?”

 “No.”

 “Hand it over, bitch!”

 Loona growled, “Shut it, pussy!”

 Husk hissed. “Fuck you!”

 Loona held up two fingers.

 “Oh you did not just go double on me!”

 “Sure did.”

 “Okay then,” Husk said, swiping the phone from Loona’s hand.  

 “HEY!” Loona barked, spitting out her drink. She got up from her chair and chased Husk around the room. The sounds of cat screeches and dog barks filled the room.

  Hey, Husk!” Blitzo yelled. “Do not insult my assistant!”

  “What ya gonna do, boss man?” Husk called, leaping onto the table, Millie jumping out of the way. Loona threw a book at Husk, who ducked. The book instead hit Niffty in the face, sending her flying across the room and against the stripped wall. “I’m okay!”

  Moxxie face-palmed as he watched the chaos. “I might as well quit, but I don’t have any other means to support myself.” Millie embraced Moxxie who whimpered again.  

 Everyone yelled, adding to the chaos.

 “ORDER IN THE OFFICE!” Blitzo yelled, pounding his hand on the table.

 “MY PHONE BACK, JACKASS!” Loona snarled loudly.

 “GET ME RICH OR I’M LEAVING!” Husk added.

 Niffty cleaned up the room, muttering to herself.

 Millie practiced singing out loud, trying to drown out the noise. “INSIDE OF EVERY DEMON IS A RAINBOW…”

 “HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW THAT SONG?” Loona asked her.

 Moxxie covered his ears. “WOULD EVERYBODY JUST SHUT UP FOR ONE…”

 A sudden screeching sound brought the yelling and erratic activities to an abrupt halt.  Everyone winced at the sound, which vanished as quickly as it came.

 “What was…that?” Blitzo asked, shaking his head.

 “Dunno,” Loona said. “Sounded like somebody testing a microphone.”

  A very slow “Shave and a Haircut” knock filled up the silence. It came from behind the door that led to the hallway.

 Loona and Husk froze, maws open in mid-brawl. Moxxie raised his eyebrows and suddenly started to shiver. Millie and Blitzo suddenly felt an oncoming sense of dread. Husk crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. Niffty, however, clapped her hands in excitement. She took some steps forward, but froze at Moxxie’s glare.

 “Do not answer the door,” Moxxie whispered in a harsh tone.

 Niffty stared in confusion. “Why not? He’s my friend.”

 Moxxie narrowed his eyes.

 “From the other side!” Niffty emphasized.

 “Just don’t go any further.”

 Niffty grinned and tiptoed closer to the door.

 “No, no, no,” Moxxie breathed, moving his hands across in a signal. “Stop right there.”

 Niffty stopped and slowly reached her thin black hand toward the round handle.

 “Oh for Lucifer’s sake!” Blitzo announced, walking toward the door. “It’s Niffty’s coworker. How bad can he be?”

 He opened the door and grinned. “Hi I’m Blitz…”

 His eyes widened and his face fell.

 “…o.”

 Blitzo stared at a towering tall demon wearing a tattered red dress coat with vertical thin stripes. Burgundy colored pants covered his legs and ended in red patches along the ends. He wore black dress shoes with red deer print marks on the soles. His undershirt was red and had an upside down black cross as part of the design. A black bow tie was displayed below his slender neck. One of his four clawed hands held a red vintage microphone staff.

 Blitzo stuttered, at a loss for words. Fear was constricting his throat. He stuttered as he looked up at the man’s face, “Welcome…”

 Blitzo stared at the man’s red and black hair, with large deer ears and antlers. His large red eyes blinked to life from a pale face. A monocle gleamed under his right eye.

 “…to…”

 The man displayed a grin of sharp yellow teeth, his smile too wide to be considered natural.

 “…I.M.P…”

 The demon opened his mouth, “Hell…”

 Blitzo slammed the door, catching his breath. He opened it a crack…

 “…o!”

 Closed it again. “Guys…” he began.

 “What?” Moxxie asked in frustration.

 “I think we need to move away. Niffty, could you please send your friend away? He’s giving me the creeps.”

 Niffty shook her head.

 “Don’t let him in, sir!” Moxxie said. Husk nodded in agreement.

 Millie gasped, “That’s a rude way to treat a guest!”

 “Okay then, do you want to open the door?”

 Millie gulped.

 Blitzo sighed and opened it again.

 “May I speak now?” the man asked.

 “Sure, whatever,” Blitzo muttered.

 The overlord swooped into the room. “Greetings fellow sinners! I’m Alastor but people call me the Radio Demon. I heard from my little darling Niffty that you imps are part of an assassination organization, yes?”

 Blitzo took a deep breath and cleared his throat. A smile appeared on his face, now that he was feeling confident. “That’s correct, good sir! I’m Blitzo and I’m the founder of the Immediate Murder Professionals, I.M.P. for short.”

 Alastor laughed. “What a clever name! I.M.P. run by imps! And who are your associates?”

 Blitzo mentioned to the other imps, “This is Moxxie and Millie.” Millie waved and blushed while Moxxie glowered.

 Loona looked up from her phone.

 “…and this is my sweet daughter, Loona,” Blitzo finished.

 Loona growled and snapped her teeth at Alastor, causing him to take a step back. Retaining his composure, he continued. “That little maid is Niffty, and that cat over there is Husk. I saw your commercial on the picture show and was intrigued. Murdering people in gruesome ways…a classic form of entertainment! It even makes my methods look standard. All thanks to Niffty for finding your location.”

 Niffty smiled and waved.

 “Next time, don’t mention Imp City in the ad,” Moxxie spat at Blitzo in a low voice.

 Alastor walked slightly closer to Blitzo, leaning in. “Is it true that you have access to the living world?”

 “Uh…yes?” Blitzo answered. He felt Alastor’s fingers make their way along his curved horns. Despite himself denying it, Blitzo felt his cheeks go pink.

 “And you can create portals? Splendid, indeed. There’s no other being in Hell who can do that.”

 “Smooth liar,” Husk muttered from a distance.

 “That’s right!” Blitzo replied. “Our company has special access to the living world due to our abilities. I may have also stolen a Satanic ritual book from a bird dick overlord several days ago. Top secret.”

 Moxxie’s face turned purple, he made the hand signal for “zip it!” to Blitzo, but of course, he wasn’t paying attention.

 Alastor smiled and put a finger to his lips. “Rest assured, whatever happens here, stays here.”

 He waved his hand and two bottles of booze appeared in front of Husk.  

 “You might think you can keep getting away with bribing me like that…” Husk said, narrowing his eyes, “…but we both know you can!” He picked up a bottle and started drinking. Loona snatched the other one.

  “What exactly are you doing here, anyway?” Moxxie demanded to Alastor.

 “Why I’m here to help out your company, of course! I’m already involved in helping Charlie with her hotel, so I figured I could expand my horizons.”

 The Radio Demon walked over to Millie. “Hello, dear, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 He gently kissed her red hand, making her giggle.

 Moxxie slapped his hand away. “No one touches my wife, you got that?”

 Alastor just shrugged and walked toward the table.

  “Don’t you walk away from me, Mister!” Mooxie stood from his chair and walked over to him. He pointed at his chest, making the demon’s smile more strained. “You look like a shady showman to me, so listen here. You have no business whatsoever in interfering with our company. Or messing around with my coworkers and my boss. So, don’t go around harming anyone here, or we’ll kick you out of our office…or just slice you to bits, Dapper Deer!”

 Alastor just laughed softly. Millie and Blitzo walked over to calm Moxxie down.

 “If I wanted to hurt anyone here…” Alastor said…

 He then spoke in a creepy tone: “I would’ve done so already.”

His eyes turned into red moving radio dials and the air filled with radio static and floating red voodoo symbols.

 He shook his head and the sensations ceased. His eyes returned to normal. “So, now let’s talk about how I can help you out.”

 “What?” Millie asked.

 “How can I be of assistance? You want donations? Promotion? An upgraded outfit?”

 Blitzo scoffed, “My outfit is great enough as it is. But… you said something about promotions?”

  Alastor nodded. “You ever feel like your work goes unrecognized?”

 “Yeah,” Blitzo replied. “People do come to us a lot to murder people, but…”

 Alastor tilted his head…

 Blitzo continued, “…but the imps and residents here look down on us. Not to mention even the sinners brush us aside like we’re trash. That’s why we’ve kept to ourselves a lot. We imps have to stick together…and hellhounds, too.”

 Loona rolled her eyes.

 “But your company is so unique, and with such special access, I don’t know why others would look down on you,” Alastor mentioned. “Whoever those horrible people are…who are they?”

 “My asshole father,” Blitzo said. “He’s kept me from achieving my musical theater dreams.”

 Alastor placed a hand on Blitzo’s shoulder. He spoke in his sympathetic tone, reserved for making others feel at ease.

 “Oh, believe me, I’ve been there. I’ve loved singing and music ever since I can remember. And my dad…well it’s a long story, too tragic to go into. Have you ever thought of…killing the person in your way? It’s surprisingly simple, and you of all people should know.”

 “I…um…”

 Moxxie nodded. “I had a dream that my parents were being murdered, and I wanted to get back to that.”

 “What if I told you…there was a way for your dreams to come true?”

 “That’s impossible,” Moxxie scoffed.

 Alastor appeared behind him, from his shadow form, making him jump. “I don’t think so! I can do so many things for your cause.” He stood in front of the three imps. A flaming bag of money appeared in Alastor’s outstretched hand, in front of Blitzo’s eyes. It changed to fiery silhouettes of Blitzo, Moxxie, and Millie dancing to the clapping of a crowd coming through his microphone. “This may seem like a bit much, but so far, you’re a well-established company.” The I.M.P. logo appeared in his hand before he closed it. “I could improve you ads, extend your business to Pentagram City, all under my protection. Imps won’t have to be the lowest of the low ever again.”

 Blitzo and his associates looked at each other, lost in thought. Alastor’s grin grew wider.

  “Do you really want to give up this golden opportunity?”

 Moxxie paused. Blitzo found himself shaking his head. Millie smiled at Niffty and Husk nearby.

 Alastor turned to leave. “Well, it was worth a try. I could give you some time to think about it…it was only a suggestion.”

 He slowly walked toward the door. “3…2…1…”

 Blitzo’s eyes went wide. “No, no, wait! Don’t leave.”

 Alastor turned his head, smile wide. He turned back to them and held out his right hand. “So, do we have a deal?”

 “No deals!” Moxxie yelled, pulling Blitzo away. “There’s something shifty about this guy. The stuff he says is too good to be true.”

 “You sure about that?” he asked. “Perhaps I need to persuade you a little more…”

 He snapped his fingers and the table and pictures vanished. The room turned a dark purple and the floor became wooden like dance floor. Deer antlers and voodoo symbols lined the walls in neon colors. The posters now showed deer with black bloody circles in place of eyes. Alastor’s outfit changed into a red suit, with a red top hat with pins sticking out. Soon, everyone was wearing attire from the early 1900s: dapper dresses and round hats of purple, green and yellow for Millie, Niffty, and Loona, and suits of light blue, white and black for Blitzo, Husk and Moxxie.

  “Take it boys!” Alastor called, snapping his fingers. Shadow spirits emerged from a newly created portal in the ground. One played a saxophone, one a trumpet, and the other played the drums.

 A jazzy remix of the I.M.P. jingle played. Moxxie and Millie danced and spun around in the spotlight as the music played. Husk and Moxxie glared at each other in a corner. Niffty smiled and danced along, while Loona stared at her phone again.

 Alastor mentioned for Blitzo to come on stage and sing with him. Blitzo blushed and slowly made his way next to him.

  Alastor sang through his vintage microphone, which lit up.

   “When you want somebody dead,

And you wanna poke fun at their head

Call the Immediate Murder Professionals

 Whether homicide or genocide

We’ll make it look like suicide

Immediate Murder Professionals

 We do our job so well

‘Cause we come straight up from Hell

We’ll kill your husband or your wife

We’ll even let you keep the knife

 The Immediate…Murder…Professionals

 The song was followed by an electro swing solo and a repeat of the verses.

Blitzo was lost in a blissful trance as he and Alastor spun around in a dance.

 They both stopped to catch their breath as the music slowed to a relaxing jazz melody.

 Alastor held out his right hand. “What’d you say? Won’t you shake a poor sinner’s hand?” The area around him glowed an eerie green and a strange wind gusted.

 Millie ran over and eagerly shook his hand. “I accept! Thank you for your help!” In the shadows, Moxxie was pulled toward Alastor by black tentacles wrapping around his waist.

 Blitzo stared at Alastor’s hand in front of him. Common sense told him to stay far away from this demon.

 But Millie had shaken his hand already…and he did offer to help them…

 Blitzo’s musical dream was just beginning, and so was his company. Why back out now?

 He slowly moved his hand closer, hovering over Alastor’s fingerless glove- covered hand.

 Loona’s eyes grew wide. Her fur stuck on end and her instincts kicked in. She could smell deceit and evil coming from the demon. She hadn’t thought it would go this far. For the first time, she placed her phone down on the ground. “Blitz!” she called.

 Blitzo briefly looked behind Alastor…and saw his adopted daughter…with fear in her eyes for the first time. He was sure he was dreaming. There was no way magic like this could exist, and surely his daughter wouldn’t show this much concern for him.

 But then again…Blitzo could create portals to Earth, so anything was possible.

 “Anything is possible,” said Alastor, as if reading his thoughts.

 “Don’t do it!” Loona barked. She raced over to Blitzo…only for Husk and Niffty to block her. Husk’s eyes and Niffty’s eye glowed red. “Ahh, the fuck?!” Loona exclaimed, in shock.

 Blitzo’s shaking hand inched closer…

 Moxxie’s hand was forcibly guided to the demon’s other hand by the tentacles…

 Loona growled and swatted Husk and Niffty aside with her paws.

  Blitzo’s hand touched Alastor’s at the same time Moxxie’s did.

“Noooo!”

  The Radio Demon cackled in triumph as Blitzo and Moxxie shook his hands. All three imps briefly opened their eyes wide, all glowing red. Small streams of evil black energy from their souls traveled from each of their mouths and into Alastor’s staff. Husk and Niffty stood up and stared at each other…for this had happened to them as well. All five of them stood still like soldiers, each with too-wide grins on their faces as static and symbols filled the air. The static was overwhelming to Loona’s ears, and she soon passed out.

   Then suddenly, the room and everyone’s outfits returned to normal. Everyone’s eyes cleared, and the portal and tentacles vanished.

Moxxie and Blitzo removed their hands.

 “What…just happened?” Blitzo asked.

 “Something amazing,” Niffty said.

 Loona sat up and rubbed her head. “I think I just had another hangover.”

 Husk had already thrown up after all the dancing and spinning.

 Niffty sighed. “Let me clean that,” and rushed off.

 “Well, I’ll say that was quite entertaining!” Alastor said. “Look.” He pointed to a radio which hadn’t been there before. Blitzo listened and he could hear the jazzy version of the I.M.P. jingle being played. A low announcer voice said, “Call the Immediate Murder Professionals! Founded by the Incredible Blitzo, and his associates Moxxie and Millie….and Loona too.”

 Loona raised her middle finger.

 “Call 1-800-666-Hell or go online to I.M.P. .com today!”

 Alastor grinned. “It’s now been broadcasted all over Hell…and it should appear on the Picture Show very soon!”

 “Wait, Picture Show?” asked Millie.

 “He means the TV,” Blitzo replied.

 Alastor grinned. “Well, I’d love to stay, but I’m a busy man. Good luck with your business. Come along, Niffty, Husk.”

 Niffty scurried over and opened the door for Alastor. Husk gave one final “fuck you,” to Loona and Moxxie before leaving.

 “By the way…” Alastor said as he reached the door. “Since I’ve helped you out, it only seems fair that you help me out as well. Don’t be alarmed if you’re suddenly summoned to help me out in my various conquests of Hell.  Loona, your services are not required.” Loona grunted in response before he finished, “Consider my deal as an inevitable new career for you…”

 His eyes turned into dials again…

 “…as my slaves.”

 His eyes turned fully red once more. “Ta-la for now!”

 He waved goodbye and the door closed behind him, everyone staring wide-eyed. No one noticed that the Satanic book had disappeared…

  The imps didn’t believe that was the case…

 …until one day, they were transported outside near the Hazbin Hotel. Their auras glowed red and their bodies became dark shadows. They surrounded Sir Pentious’ blimp, giggling as dark power flowed through their veins. The tentacles wrapped around the blimp and the shadow imps scattered before the vehicle exploded in a cloud of pink smoke. Charlie, Angel Dust, Husk, Vaggie, and Niffty watched in horror as Alastor stood with a sinister grin on his face.

 The group walked back to the hotel as Alastor talked about his mother’s jambalaya. With a snap of his fingers, the “Happy Hotel” words on the roof changed to “Hazbin Hotel.”

 “Stay tuned,” Alastor finished with low laughter.