Helluva Dad Vol. 1: Murder Family
"Dad, dad, dad! Wake up, dad!"
Striker grunted as he covered his head with his pillow, but it was no use as the intruder hopped on his bed. "Kiddo, unless there's a wild animal or a homeless drunk inside the house, go away and let me sleep."
"Daaad, you promised that you'd take me along to the living world this time!"
Striker took a peek at the clock on his bedside table. "Not at 5:36 AM, boy. Couldn't you wait until I'm actually awake?"
"What am I supposed to do 'till then?"
"I don't know, use your imagination."
"But dad-" Out of patience, Striker bared his teeth at his son, tail rattling. Jake raised his hands defensively. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving."
Once the door closed shut, Striker went back to sleep… For about thirty seconds, that is, until the door slammed open and Jake jumped into his bed again, screaming in fright and knocking the air out of his father.
"What the fuck, Jake?!" Striker all but shrieked.
"There's a spider in the living room!"
"... What?"
"Spider!"
"And why didn't you squash it?!"
"It's a big spider!"
Striker's eye twitched. With an irritated grunt, he got off the bed, rolled up a porno magazine on his bedside drawer, and stomped his way towards the living room, Jake trailing closely behind.
"I can't believe it, A son of mine is afraid of a tiny, insignificant…" Striker trailed off and stopped in the doorway. A hog-sized hellantula was tearing the couch apart with big, sharp mandibles. "Boy, go get the rifle."
Once the issue with the spider was taken care of, Striker found himself unable to go back to sleep after the fiasco, so he went to the kitchen and poured himself a big cup of black coffee before making breakfast. Thankfully, Blitzo wasn't inside his fridge this time around, though he made a mental note to go get some more groceries.
As he served the fried eggs and wild hog bacon, Jake walked into the kitchen. He was covered in sweat like he had spent an hour lifting five-ton weights. "Dad, wouldn't it have been easier if we cut up the spider's carcass and take it out piece by piece?" he whined.
"And make a bigger mess I'll have to clean up? No, thank you." Striker placed one of the plates in front of his son. Jake frowned.
"Puaj. Tomato."
"Stop complaining and eat, boy. It's good for you."
They are in silence for the first few minutes. Striker would subtly glance in Jake's direction every now and then, smirking internally at the boy's expressions while he begrudgingly ate his vegetables.
"So, ready for today?" he asked casually.
Jake's expression brightened. "How's the living world like? Is it cool? Does it look anything like hell?"
"You could say so. The only difference is that there are humans living there instead of demons."
"Humans? What are those?"
"Well, you've seen the clients at I.M.P, right? They used to be humans during their lifetime. When they died, they came to Hell and became Sinner demons because they did bad things in life. However, some of them have..." Striker toyed with his bacon as he thought of a proper word. "...pending business with someone in the living world. Our job is to finish that business in the client's stead.
"So… The people who go to I.M.P. are dead humans who want to fuck up someone who fucked them up in the living world?"
Striker snapped his fingers. "Bingo. You're getting the hang of it, kid."
"Hey, dad, think I could use the-?"
"No."
"Hey, you didn't let me finish!"
"Sorry, kiddo. I thought you were going to ask if you could use the blessing-tipped rifle." Striker replied, his eyes reflecting off the knife he was using to butter his toast.
Jake laughed nervously. "Speaking of which-"
"No."
"Come on, dad! When will you let me use those?"
"When you're ready, not a second sooner."
"And when will I be ready?"
Striker dropped his fork to place a hand on Jake's shoulder. "We'll both know. Until then, finish your breakfast."
*HB*
"Moxxie, stop shaking. You're gonna shoot our only hellhound!"
"Wow, I feel so loved here."
Striker watched, uninterested, as Moxxie pointed the crossbow with shaking arms at a photo depicting a human family. "If this were real, he'd already been dead."
"You're not helping, Striker," Millie growled before focusing back on Moxxie. "Just take a deep breath, and let it out."
"But it's a family. Under what circumstances would we ever need to kill a human family?"
"Who knows? Maybe if that's what the client wants." Striker said matter-of-factly as he polished his pistol.
Moxxie wasn't convinced. "Maybe like a shitty dad, or a mob family. That's understandable. But to eradicate an entire innocent-seemingly in this instance-upper middle-class family bloodline?"
Loona frowned. "Hey!" You don't know they're innocent! This kid probably sets dogs on fire, maybe this girl gets off bullying Australian kids online, and this guy…"
"That guy definitely watches," Jake added grimly.
"Couldn't have said it better, little guy." Loona shared a fist bump with the impling.
"Exactly! Humans are full of secret nasties. It's why so many of them end up here."
"But-"
Striker had enough. "Allow me, Mildred." he stomped his way to Moxxie and picked him up by the throat. "Look, wimp, guilty and innocent aren't our business. We're assassins, not charity workers. Killing a target," he swiftly aimed his pistol at the photo and fired a clean shot at the woman's face, leaving a hole in its wake. His point made clear, Striker locked gazes with Moxxie, hissing. "Now pick a bloody target before I throw you out the window."
Moxxie fell to the ground with a loud thud. Millie handed him the crossbow again; he aimed the tip of the arrow at the father's face, trying to imagine it was Striker.
"I just think it's a bit excessive and we could be a bit more selective, is all."
Blitzo slammed the door open at that precise moment, startling Moxxie into firing the arrow. It bounced all around the room, hitting the computer, making a second hole on the photograph, and striking the bottom of the eel tank. Moxie jumped into Millie's arms while Striker quickly picked Jake up from the eel tank when he noticed it wobbling.
"Daad, I nearly had it!"
Blitzo caught the arrow just before it struck the client's skull. "...our newest client!"
The eel tank fell and shattered, spilling its contents all over the floor. The eels burst into electricity, setting the entirety of the room on fire.
Striker frowned at Jake, who was stunned into silence. "To think that could have been you."
"Damn it, Moxxie! I just bought those eels!"
They were forced to evacuate the building as the firefighters arrived and did their job. Striker was sure that this little incident didn't leave a good impression on the client, but surprisingly she didn't cancel. Guess she really wanted that person 86'd.
"Way to go, jughead," Jake told Moxxie sarcastically as they watched the firefighters carry the eels into their truck.
"Shut up, you little brat," Moxxie murmured.
Millie frowned at him. "Mox, don't talk to Jake like that!"
"He started it!" Striker rolled his eyes. Moxxie is 'supposed to be the adult who shouldn't stomp down to a child's level.
Wait a minute. "Did anyone save the fancy book?"
"You mean our only ticket to the other side?" Luna slipped out the blue, fancy-looking tome from her clothing without bothering to look up from her hellphone. "Yeah, got it."
"And that's why you're my favorite, Loonie!"
"I thought my dad was your favorite." Jake pointed out.
"Who says I can't have two favorite people? Your dad's my favorite employee and Loonie here's my favorite adopted daughter. You get a tweat now!"
Millie drew the chalk pentagram on the nearby wall. The lines glowed an eerie red color as the circle expanded and the area inside transformed into a forest. The portal was open.
"Cool! Can I draw it the next time?"
"Maybe. Let's get this over with."
Striker would never admit it out loud, but he found these trips to the living world… relaxing. The air smelled cleaner, like trees and nature instead of sulfur, ash, and lava-like Wrath. Its landscapes were more varied, prettier, and calm, at least compared to Hell's ecosystems. This place was particularly breathtaking; a wide lake surrounded by forest and mountains with the sun setting, giving the sky reddish colors that reminded Striker of Bombproof's mane.
Jake seemed to be having similar thoughts. The impling was looking all over the place, eyes wide. "Whoah…"
"Hey, hey, hold your horses!" Striker picked his son up by the shirt before he could dart into the woods. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I wanna look around, dad! This place is so neat!"
"It's your first time on the surface, right? Don't worry, Jakey!" Blitzo pulled Jake into a hug. "Just stick close to uncle Blitz and everything will be fine!"
"Sides, you and I got a very important job! We're going to keep an eye on... Well, the house, just in case something goes wrong!"
Jake raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Millie, I might be a kid but I'm not stupid."
"Oh, I know you aren't, Jakey." Millie chirped, ruffling the boy's hair.
Blitzo, Striker, and Moxxie silently moved closer to the house and leaned against the wall. The former two peeked through the window. It seemed like a normal-looking household with a mom, dad, and two kids. The target was coming out of the kitchen, platter in both hands.
"That's gotta be her." Blitzo chuckled darkly. "Ready to do your cowboy thing, Striker?"
As he was about to point his rifle, Striker glanced sideways to Moxxie. The cowboy sneered. "Actually, Blitz, this one's far too easy. We should let Moxxie have her."
Moxxie blinked. "Me?" he asked hopefully.
"Well, I don't see another Moxxie around here, do you?"
"He's right, Mox. This one's simple enough for you to handle."
Moxxie's face fell after peering into the house. "It's just a happy mother who just got out of the hospital."
"You snooze, you lose, Mox."
Striker readied his rifle, taking a few steps back to aim. He set his eyes on the blonde human female, licking his lips in anticipation. "I've got you, bitch."
"Wait, are we actually killing a family?" Moxxie asked.
"No, don't be a puss. We're just killing a mother." Striker positioned the rifle as it clicked.
"Yeah, we're ruining a family," Blitzo added cheerily.
"B-But… hold on, hold on. Let's just think about it."
He was pulling the trigger when the rifle was suddenly pushed upwards. The movement made the bullet miss its target by a few inches, hitting a mirror instead.
"Why, you-!" Striker grabbed Moxxie's throat, hissing and rattling his tail.
"What the fuck was that, Moxxie?!" Blitzo snapped. Moxxie seemed to go into a panic attack of sorts, prompting Striker to release him.
"I'm sorry!" he cried, tears in his eyes. "They just seemed so wholesome and happy, I panicked!"
Striker rubbed his temple, murmuring under his breath while Blitzo facepalmed. "Get the fuck over it, you baby dick-!"
PAM!
Striker roared in pain as a bullet blasted through the wall, hitting him in the arm. He gripped the wound as blood scurried out of the wound. Fuck, and on his aiming arm!
"New hole! Scatter!"
"Dad!"
Jake's voice brought Striker out of his daze. The last thing he saw before something struck his head was Millie picking his son up and fleeing the scene. Everything went black afterward.
…
As consciousness returned, Striker felt as if he had been trampled over by a stampede. His head hurt like hell and his wounded arm was no better. He tried to move but found himself unable to. Something was binding his hands behind his torso.
"Striker! Wake up, partner!"
"Wha…? Moxxie?" As his eyes got adjusted to the darkness, Striker realized he was tied up in a bizarre chair, hands tightly bound behind his back. Moxxie was in a similar dilemma on the chair to his right. "What the fuck?!"
"Thank satan you're awake! We're in deep shit!"
"You think?" Striker hissed. "Moxxie, I swear, if those bloody humans don't kill you, I will!"
"Hey, you can't blame me for us getting caught!"
"Oh, really? None of this would be happening if I had hit the target and been done with it! God damn it, Moxxie, I had a clean shot and you made me miss!"
"H-How can you kill a mother and leave orphaned children when you have a kid yourself?!"
"Because that's what we were paid for, for Satan's sake!"
They could have continued to argue if it weren't for the two presences in the room. As they looked around, they saw the two kids from before. He might have confused the little shits with implings if they had horns and red skin; their glowing red eyes and devious sharp grins would make the sadistic smirks of the Princes of Hell look like nervous smiles.
Moxxie chuckled nervously. "Well hello there, little ones. Aren't you cute?"
The children spoke simultaneously in a low, almost inhuman voice. "It's nice to have new critters to play with."
If he didn't know any better, Striker might have thought they were in the Cannibal Colony back in Hell. The entire room was adorned with human heads, limbs, and even organs. The 'food' on the table consisted of a roasted fully-grown man with livers and kidneys as side dishes.
"Moxxie, when we're out of this ordeal, I'm going to fucking pummel you." Striker hissed.
They struggled against the ropes, but the kids had made a surprisingly good job with those knots. They were good enough to impress even Striker himself, and he was an ace when it came to tying up knots. Sadly, there was little he could do with an injured arm and Moxxie's wimpy little arms were hopeless. Striker growled. If only he could reach his knife…
A light outside the window caught his eye. Then a second appeared, then a third, fourth, as if someone was lighting up torches. Striker paled.
"Jake!"
"Millie!"
Both imps shared a concerned glance. The girl pulled out a serrated knife on Moxxie; to Striker's surprise, the wimp pushed the chair backward and fell on top of her. He took advantage of the distraction, using his tail to pull his knife out of his boot and expertly slice through the ropes. Once free, Striker sent the boy flying against the wall with a kick. Moxxie, too, had managed to free himself with the girl's own knife.
Striker tipped his hat with his good arm. "Not bad, wimp."
"Can you move?"
"I'm not limp, it's just a scratch." Striker wrapped his red bandanna around the wound and pulled out his pistol. "Now let's blow a hole through that bitch's skull."
*HB*
Jake had never been so frightened in his entire life. Well, maybe that time when he nearly got eaten by a serpent, but it was different. At least his father had been there to save him. But this time it was him who got hurt and there was nothing Jake could do to help. He tried to save Millie when she got K.O.'d, but he stood no chance against a fully-grown human and was knocked out as well. When he regained consciousness, he found himself tied to a stake in-between Millie and Blitzo.
"Striker had that fucking shot. Goddammit, Moxxie."
The crazy woman was cackling evilly as she held up a torch. "Satan! We return your filthy creatures back to the pits of Hell! May the root of evil remain honored as we continue thy work!"
The torch landed a few feet away from the logs, setting them aflame. The fire rose up around them as Martha laughed maniacally… until she realized they weren't screeching in agony. Blitzo snorted.
"Yeah, that's not exactly how it works, lady. Sorry, your fire doesn't actually hurt us, but I mean I could fake it if that'll get your dick hard."
Jake blinked. "She's a dude?"
"Grown-up stuff, kiddo. You should ask your daddy about it."
"Well, I'll just shoot you in your smart ass mouth!" Jake gulped as Martha pulled out a rifle on them.
"That would be more effective."
"Blitzo!"
Jake closed his eyes shut, whimpering as he heard the familiar click on the rifle. There were two gunshots, but he heard no screams from Blitzo, Millie, or his own throat, and no searing pain. Jake opened an eye warily. There were two smoking holes in the sockets where Martha's eyes once were. Her body collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
A few steps back were none other than Moxxie and dad, both holding their pistols.
"Moxxie! Striker!"
"Dad!"
"You're not getting your god damn paycheck for this one, Moxxie!"
As Moxxie untied the ropes, Jake jumped right into his father's embrace, wrapping his arms around his neck. Meanwhile, Moxxie and Millie hugged and nuzzled each other affectionately.
"I'm sorry, sir. I compromised our objective and put us in harm's way. It won't happen again. I promise."
"Apology accepted." Blitzo pulled Moxxie into a hug, but Striker noticed he was whispering something threatening (apparently), judging by Moxxie's expression.
He waited until Blitzo let go to punch Moxxie with such force that he fell to the ground.
"What the fuck, Striker?!"
"I keep my promises, Mox."
*HB*
Striker wasn't very fond of parties. Frankly, he just wanted to go home, fall to his bed, and sleep, but Jake begged him to stay a little longer to eat cake. After what the boy just went through, he didn't have the heart to say no, so he conceded. Besides, the look on Moxxie's face was fun to look at. He had no idea what put the wimp in such a mood, but he had the feeling it had to do with what remained of the target's bloodline.
"You sure you can ride back home with that arm? I wouldn't like to lose my best shooting asset!" Blitzo protested as he climbed onto Bombproof's saddle, Jake seated in front of him.
"Big deal, it's just a scratch. Nothin' to worry about, Blitz." Striker grabbed the reins with his good arm, the injured one resting on a sling.
Bombproof moved at a slow pace, so it'd take them longer than usual to get home. Millie had once suggested that he and Jake move to Imp City; there was a vacant apartment in the building she and Moxxie lived in and she'd be thrilled at the idea of being neighbors (Moxxie, of course, didn't share the sentiment). Striker regretfully declined the offer (to Moxxie's relief). He was a country person at heart and would rather stay in Wrath. Besides, he wanted his son to experience the ups and downs of rural life.
A loud yawn made him look down. "Tired?"
"No, just resting my eyes," Jake said simply, but the exhaustion in his voice said otherwise. Striker chuckled.
"How about you 'rest yer eyes' for a while, then? I'll wake you up when we get home."
"Really, dad, I'm not tired…" Jake trailed off as he leaned back against his father, resting his chest against his chest.
Striker smiled a bit as he ruffled the boy's hair. "Surely not, kiddo. Surely not."
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