IMP City.
A city full of Imps.
Or, an Imp-filled location which fell within the parameters of what would be needed to define something as a 'City'.
Well, whatever it was defined as, it was one of the more well-known locations in hell. This may be due to it being a sort of middle-to-lower-class city, or perhaps because Imps were so numerous. Whatever the reason, most demons in hell ignored it, as they saw no real reason to go there… unless…
Well, we'll get to that later.
Horns honked, tires screeched, and the whole city seemed rather alive; a stark contrast to the vicious, violent and sociopathic look of the main city Mad Dawg had been staying in. Sure, from what he could see, everyone was armed in one way or another, but it seemed more like 'I'm-armed-in-case-someone-else-starts-something'. But no-one wanted to be the instigator of that something. In fact, most of the Imps who saw Mad Dawg ignored him, or gave him plenty of space, both those being just fine with him. Something else that caught his attention were the presence of kids, even newborns. He didn't know if this meant God was condemning children to hell (which he sincerely doubted) but he was somewhat confused as to how that worked. One of the things he had read in a 'Demonology' book back at the Hazbin Hotel, was that demons were very rarely born. They were created via a damned soul being cast down here by God, and given form based on their actions, or something else. The book wasn't clear on those details, and it looked like they might not know.
"Honestly, this seems like an okay place." Mad Dawg thought, casting a glance up at a horribly misspelled billboard. "Again, this is hell, but hey. If I'm gonna find any place to hunker down, I could see this place working… Maybe I should try and find a cheap apartment this time, instead of a hotel…"
As he walked, he cast a glance to his left, looking across the street, and he froze dead in his large tracks.
"Is… is that…" He mentally sputtered, seeing someone across the street. "She… she's…"
A bus pulled up, and ten seconds later, was gone; leaving Mad Dawg blinking unsure if what he had just seen was real or fake. It didn't look like a hallucination, and it'd make sense if she was here… but this appeared to be a one-way street, as the figure hadn't seen him. Oh well, he'd figure it out in time. For now, he kept walking, parts of the city reminding him of Royal Woods, other parts reminding him of King's Row, and some parts reminding him of Numbani… Man, that was a place he hadn't thought of in ages! There was the museum, the convenience store he stopped a robbery at as the Crimson Phoenix, his coffee house he ran away from after punching Zarya, his-
"I never closed my shop." Mad Dawg blinked, realizing after running from his friends and skipping town; he never returned to Numbani to close his coffee-comic-shop. "Did I leave the stove on?"
Across dimensions, a fire department passed by the scorched remains of a coffee house, on their way to their next job.
"Shame…" One of them muttered.
"Nah, it should be fine." Mad Dawg shook his head. Rounding a corner, he saw a somewhat squat building, and the number on the side matched the one of the papers. "Well, here goes… something."
Pushing open the doors, he looked around the main floor, realizing he was essentially in an office building. Locating a directory, Mad Dawg made his way upstairs until he reached a door with a piece of paper taped to it 'I.M.P Heafquarders' written on it. Knocking on the door, Mad Dawg waited, and then it opened, a small, snow-white-haired-Imp blinked, then looked up at him.
"Uhh… Can I help you?"
"Is this… Immediate Murder Professionals?" Mad Dawg asked, looking at the paper quickly to get the name.
"Y..yes, yes it is." The smaller demon blinked. "Are you looking to kill someone?"
"It says you guys were hiring." Mad Dawg replied, passing the Imp the paper. The small demon raised a brow in confusion, then looked at the article.
Wanted:
Some worthless idiot with no value to society who's willing to clean up some real bad messes.
If you think this is you, first of all: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Man, you're pathetic! Secondly, and more importantly: If you're still reading this, consider working for us at the Immediate Murder Professionals! What else are you gonna do with your sad, pathetic life?
"That idiot can't pay the damn electricity bill but can put an ad in the damn paper…" Moxxie scowled, agitated.
"Hey, Mox. Who's… holy-"
Mad Dawg was now face-to-face with a demon who looked similar to the smaller one, but had almost comically long horns that curved down towards his back.
"Hey." Dawg nodded. "I'm here about the job."
"…what job?"
"This one sir." The tiny imp growled, holding up the newspaper. The tall imp looked at the paper, confused then muttered.
"Right… I did put that ad in the paper. Forgot about that…"
"With all due respect sir, we can barely afford to keep the lights on!" Moxxie stated matter-of-factly. "We don't have enough revenue to hire another employee!"
"Hm. So you're saying this is a bad idea." The taller Imp remarked.
"Yes!"
"And that this would potentially cause the company to go further into debt?"
"Yes!"
"And if I decided to hire him anyways, that would annoy you?"
"Yes! Wait-"
"You're hired."
"Sir!"
"Awesome." Mad Dawg nodded.
"Only condition is, we can't pay you right away." The larger imp added immediately. Dawg blinked and looked around for a second. "Or maybe ever."
"That couch anyone's?" He asked, pointing to a couch.
"Uh… no?"
"If I can crash on it at night, I don't care about not being paid."
"Wait. Really!?"
"Yeah." Dawg shrugged. "I'm mainly here because I'm BORED. The gangs around here are a bunch of emo-wanna-be edge lords, and there really ain't much to do down here."
"…sir, hiring someone we can't afford is one thing; but letting some random demon stay here isn't a great idea. We don't know his name, where he came from-"
"Yeah, well screw you, Moxxie! I'm fine with some random thirty-something sleeping on the couch so long as he doesn't try to kill us."
"I'm sixteen."
The two Imps paused, looking to Mad Dawg, then one another, then back to Mad Dawg.
"Uh-huh. Sure." The taller Imp scoffed. "Look. I appreciate a good liar, but there's not a chance in hell that a hellhound of your size is only-"
"I'm serious."
There was no response right away, as both Imps looked at him, and seemed to take in what he said, slowly taking into consideration that he might not be lying. The smaller one seemed a mixture of concerned and surprised, perhaps unsure about someone so young being down in hell. But the taller one seemed indifferent.
"Huh." He blinked. "Look, there's a youth hostel a few streets over, it's next to the butcher shop, ya can't miss it."
"Sir, weren't you hiring him?" The smaller imp spoke up.
"…was i?"
"Yes… I think."
"What can you do?"
"What do you need me to do?" Mad Dawg asked with a raised brow. "I can get stuff done without asking questions. Really, just give me a task and I'll get it done."
"So, you have no skills to speak of, you might be lying to us about your age, and you showed up out of nowhere responding to an ad I put in the paper while drunk…" The taller Imp listed off some of Dawg's previous lies. "You're hired! I'm Blitzo, the 'o' is silent, the short and pissy guy is Moxxie, and Millie and Loona are… somewhere." Blitzo lead Mad Dawg into the office. "So, how much do you know about us?"
"I know your name is Blitzo… that's all." Mad Dawg shrugged.
"Okay, well. Here's the rundown newbie; here at I.M.P. we settle scores for demons by using our trade secret to travel to the living world and killing those sons of bitches that deserve it!"
"Wait! YOU CAN GO TO THE LIVING WORLD!?" Mad Dawg shouted, his fur turning white in shock. Blitzo recoiled, but then seemed to realize what Mad Dawg was getting at.
"Ah, heh… yeah… so, we all had that reaction. But there's a catch: We can only go to the living world in these forms, and we can only stay up there for a certain amount of time." Blitzo explained, seeing Mad Dawg deflate at that information. "Hey, it is what it is. But that kinda energy is what we need, so… keep that up."
"Right…" Mad Dawg said quietly, looking away, somewhat embarrassed.
"So, what was your name?" Moxxie asked with a raised brow.
"Oh, I'm Mad Dawg."
"…seriously? What kinda name is Mad Dog?!" Blitzo laughed.
"It's 'Dawg', chief." Mad Dawg said flatly. "And I could ask the same about the name 'Blitzo'."
"It's Blitz! Screw that up and you're fired!"
"Okay." Dawg shrugged indifferently. Blitzo seemed like he wanted to say something else, but a beeping from his office caught his attention and he turned on his heel to leave. Moxxie was going to say something, but another voice caught their attention.
"Mox? I need yer help gettin' the blood outta these things!" A southern voice called.
"Be right there!" Moxxie called before looking back to Mad Dawg. "Sorry, that's my wife."
"Yeah, no problem." Mad Dawg nodded, watching Moxxie disappear into another room. He looked around the reception area, taking in the fact that he was alone. And he could piss anywhere he wanted what?
"Uh… we're just gonna ignore that…" Mad Dawg blinked, looking around then casting a narrowed-eye-look to the reader.
Ring…ring…ring…ring…
Mad Dawg looked around, seeing a phone ringing on a desk. Well, ringing, mixed with of all things, barking.
"Uh… phone's ringing!" Mad Dawg called, not hearing Blitzo effectively barricade his office door shut.
Ring…ring…ring…ring…
Deciding if he worked here, he might as well deal with this, Mad Dawg picked up the bone which seemed to be the phone itself.
"Hello, you've reached I.M.P." Mad Dawg said in a casual tone. "How can I help?"
"Loona? You sound… different." A regaler voice than Dawg expected spoke on the other end of the line.
"Uh, sorry. Luna's not here presently. In fact, I think everyone just left for some reason."
"And who might you be?"
"I'm new, got hired… earlier at some point in time. I can take a message if that would help." Mad Dawg nodded, grabbing a note pad and pen. "To Blitzo from a Lord… Stolas? Okay, sure. I'm ready; go. Yes…okay…uh-huh…wow…uh, how do you spell that? One 'T'? Right. Got it. Yup. Got it… yeah… okay… right… uh, you've said that three times now, do you want it written three times? Yes? Okay, okay. Sorry. Sorry, just wanted to make sure this says what you want it to say. Okay… alright… oof… wow… okay… yeah… got it… yup… okay… uh-huh… yeah… And… that's it? Okay. I'll get it to him, sir. All right, thank you for calling."
Click.
"What the fu-" Mad Dawg whispered, looking at the note he had written.
"Who was it?" Moxxie asked, being followed by a black-haired Imp. Mad Dawg blinked, still looking at the note he had written. "Mad Dog?"
"…Uh, some dude named Stolas." Mad Dawg answered, and both Imps reacted, clearly unnerved by something. "Is… is this common?" He asked, passing the note to Moxxie, who took it and quickly scanned it.
"Yes." Was all the imp said, sounding dead inside. "Look, if anything Stolas ever comes up, just… just ignore it."
"Uh, did Loona get a boyfriend?" The female Imp asked, looking from Mad Dawg to Moxxie.
"What are you-" Mad Dawg began, but turned around when he heard a door open and close.
"Hey, whoever had the meatball sub, I ate it, so… suck it."
Standing not too far away, he saw a skinny wolf-woman standing at the other side of the room. She seemed to be looking at him in both confusion, indifference, and surprise.
"Uh, no… we're not." Mad Dawg answered. "Hey."
"Whatever." The wolf-woman replied, looking back to her phone.
"I'm Mad Dawg."
"I don't care."
"Okay then." Mad Dawg said looking back to Moxxie. "Uh, yeah. I'm new."
"Aw, well. Hi there! I'm Millie!" Millie beamed at Mad Dawg, who returned the smile. "Yeah, don't worry about the note… Stolas is… eccentric."
"Wait, he called?" The Wolf-woman blinked. "Thanks for covering my ass there, I really don't like talking to him. What'd he want?"
"I don't know if I can say what I wrote down out loud in good conscience." Mad Dawg admitted, with a shrug. He didn't mind crude jokes, and he didn't mind erotica… but what he had written? No, he couldn't say that. The wolf-woman snatched the note from Moxxie, scanned it, and then burst out laughing.
"I don't get it." Mad Dawg muttered.
"Someone'll explain it later." Millie shrugged.
"Okay, my business is done. What did I miss?" Blitzo asked, walking back out from his office. When Loona passed him the note, his expression went from indifference, to disgust, to shock, and then shock.
"Loona, did… did you write this?"
"Nope. New blood." Loona said, pointing to Mad Dawg, still not looking up from her phone. Blitzo looked to Mad Dawg, and seemed to realize what this entailed.
"I feel like there's some context to this." Mad Dawg said aloud.
"No! Shut up! There isn't! Go away!" Blitzo defensively shouted. "If you wanna make yourself useful, go get us some donuts! Everyone else, company meeting."
"Sir, it seems wrong to send the new recruit out for food not even an hour after hir-" Moxxie began, but Mad Dawg was already gone. About seven seconds later, he re-appeared in the doorway.
"Uh, where am I going?" Mad Dawg asked.
Nifty hummed to herself as she zipped around the bar room, dusting things that had already been dust several dozen times. She had thoroughly cleaned Mad Dawg's room (and may or may not have been caught smelling his sheets) but was disappointed when he hadn't returned yet. Husk was mixing a drink for himself, but then decided to make something stronger. He slid the glass across the bar go angel Dust, who looked at it, then drank the whole thing in one go.
"Uh… you good?" Husk muttered, not really caring, but unsure what else to do.
"What do you think." Angel muttered. Husk frowned, Dust had been like this for several days, this wasn't normal, and this certainly wasn't Angel Dust.
"I don't. That's why I'm asking."
"Piss off, will you?"
"Eh." Husk shrugged, returning to his booze. He picked up a bottle of Sinful Sider and looked at it in confusion. No one here drank this- wait, Dawg did.
"You have any clue where the kid went? He's the only one who likes this crap." Husk asked, setting the bottle on the shelf.
"I don't know, I don't care." Angel snarled, still refusing to look at Husk. The winged bartender raised a brow at that and scoffed.
"Oh, fer the love'a crap. Stop bein' such a melodramatic pissbaby! Did your sugar daddy not give you your allowance this week or somehtin'!? The kid's GONE! So quit yer pussy-ass drama queen crap and-"
"LOOK AT ME!" Dust suddenly snapped his head, roaring at Husk. Only now did Husk see what had happened. There were wounds not from Dawg, but much, much more meticulous. Not the kind to scar, but the kind that lasted, and more importantly, the types that sent a message. It caught Husk off guard, and he dropped the glass he had been drinking from to the floor, shattering it upon contact. What also truly caught him off-guard was how frightened Dust seemed. The pain in his eyes, his body…
"Holy shit." Husk blinked, realizing what had happened.
"I sent him to deliver two FUCKING letters and he comes back and beats the shit out of me?! And I'm supposed to feel BAD for him!? Do you KNOW what Val did to me because of him!?"
"…no, but I can guess." Husk said, eerily quietly. "Something's wrong, there's a bigger damn picture none of us are seein' unless we understand what the hell that's all about-"
"NO! Okay! No! He's fuckin' dead to me! And if the blonde bitch who runs this place isn't half as stupid as she presents herself, he'd be dead to her too!" Angel Dust yelled, storming out of the bar. He didn't see if Charlie was there or not, and frankly he couldn't care less. Husk was left in an uncomfortable silence, only broken up by the sound of Nifty cleaning the broken glass at his feet, then dashing off.
"Uh, huh…" Baxter muttered, looking to where Dust left through. "Well, that was… a thing."
"You're the smart one here, you have any idea what's happening?" Husk asked dryly.
"No, but I do hope Mad Dawg returns, sooner rather than later." The scientist shook his head. "There's something about him that I've never seen before. Something beyond his mutations, beyond how he was made… it seems like… like… never mind." He scoffed and shook his head again. "It's a preposterous theory…"
"He some sorta angel who got sent down here by mistake? Please." Husk muttered, taking another drink. "He's admitted to it, he's a killer. He died when some sort of cosmic doorway backfired."
"..wh..what?" Baxter stuttered, looking up from his drink, then down at something, then to the exit. "I'm sorry, I must go attend to some matters."
"Whatever, Nemo." Husk muttered, ignoring Baxter's groan of protest. The winded cat-demon downed another drink as he left. Once He was sure he was alone, Husk picked up a small book that had been left behind. He wasn't the type for gossip, but there was a lot about Mad Dawg that didn't make sense… so, he was wondering if the kid's sketchbook, or journal, or whatever… might help. He flipped through a few pages towards, finding cartoonish sketches of Charlie, Vaggie, himself, Alistor, Dust and Nifty, as well as random notes and thoughts. But it was when he moved more towards the beginning that things began to seem more like what he expected, so to say.
October 14, Year Unknown
Had another training session with Bobby and Leni tonight. I really, really hate that they're doing this with me. But at the same time, it's better them than the others… they at least could run, or fight, and Bobby hasn't hesitated to put one in me if things get outta hand…
Okay; here's the truth. I'm a living weapon. I'm not human, I'm not real, I'm just a freak of nature. It turns out all the crap I've been dealing with, all the loss of memories, it was all by design. I think. Either way, that scientist, O'Deorain, it turns out she made me! Her, Ms. Ziegler and Jax… Now I wish I got to talk to him more before he was killed. Heck, I wish I could've done more to keep him from getting killed…
Date Unknown, 2077
I like these guys, they want to do the right thing, not sure how well I'll do when we hit an actual mission but until then, I'm gonna stay. I think I might be able to do some good here. Then again, maybe it'll all go to shiz again. It's been awhile since I last opened up, maybe I'm just afraid of being hurt... But this time, the risk might be worth it.
Christmas, 206-something
I had a dream everyone was back! Marcus, Ray, everyone! I woke up, and it was like the Christmas after they took me in from wherever I came from. There was laughter, there was food, we were a family!
And then I woke up.
They're still gone. They still don't want me. What did I do wrong? Am I at fault? Every Christmas I wait on top of this stupid scrap-dragon thing, hoping and praying they'll come back! But… they don't. I don't deserve that. I don't deserve them.
But I want my family back.
I want my Mo
Husk quietly closed the book, not wanting to read more, but feeling like he was going to regardless. He had suspicions about some of Mad Dawg's claims, but what was written in there, it was so… human, that it couldn't be faked. At least, not faked without some sort of 4D chess plan in play; and after what happened a few days ago? Husk doubted that was the case.
"Damn." He muttered, deciding to push down his new feelings with alcohol.
Moving with a confidence and grace suited to someone of her standing, Delilah grimaced as she entered the large studio building before her. Clicking her tongue in disgust, Delilah shook her head to clear it. She knew what she was here to do, and she didn't have much time to accomplish her task, so she couldn't get distracted by the temptation of desire and passion.
"Can I hel…" The receptionist began but trailed off in fear as Delilah wordlessly passed by, shrinking back behind the desk. Entering the elevator, Delilah sighed and pressed the button for the studio floor. It was a silent and somewhat tense ride up, Delilah checking a few of her tools before the doors opened. Walking onto the musty floor, the woman scoffed at the disgusting stench and smells pulsating around her.
"Yeah, yeah. I know, just film with whoever we have!" A raspy voice snarled off at someone else.
"If you hadn't damaged his face so much, we wouldn't be in this situation, now would we?!" A staticky voice shot back, clearly not liking being accused of… whatever this argument was about.
"You know what that asshole did! I didn't want to hurt him, but he needed to learn that actions have consequences."
"You really think he's stupid enough to send… that THING here?!"
"Hey… guys?"
"No, but he did, for one reason or another! You think after what that freak did here I'm just gonna let that go?! What he did to us!? To you!?"
"Guys?"
"No, don't. Don't pretend like this is some sort of personal vendetta; you're just angry because there's someone more powerful out there, and you couldn't get them to jump on your di-"
"GUYS!"
The two taller demons stopped and looked to where the doll-like demon was pointing. Delilah sighed when she realized that there wasn't much of a better way to start a conversation.
"Well, hello." The taller, moth-like demon purred. "Can we help you with something?"
"Perhaps you can help. I'm looking for someone… he has a rather, bizarre name, I believe it was Mad Dog?" Delilah spoke in her kind tone. But she internally frowned when she saw the trio of demons recoil at the mention of the mutant.
"Mad Dawg? What are you after him for?" Valentino asked annoyed, his eyes narrowing.
"I need to speak with him, do you know where he is?" Delilah asked, calmly.
"I haven't seen you around, you from the Capitol?" The Moth Pimp asked. Internally, Delilah groaned, externally, she gave no reaction. "Or are you new here?"
"I'd prefer if you don't waste my time, as unlike what I'm seeing here, I actually have things of importance to get done."
"Oh really? Well, if you're looking for Mad Dawg, I'd be willing to tell ya what I know… all I ask is you sit for a little while…" Valentineo purred. Delilah noticed the doll-demon seemed amused, but the screen-faced one seemed… nervous. Clearly, he was the smart one of the group. She sighed, and turned a chair around. Making herself sit on it and look to Val, the disgusting wretch…
"Well?"
"I have to ask, why are you interested in the kid?" Valentineo asked, lounging back in his chair. "You look nothing like him, you his handler?"
"No, not exactly." Delilah remarked, looking at her hand, then back up at the demons. "I'm… someone he knew, in life. I've heard he happened to end up down here, now I simply wish to see if it is the same soul I knew above."
"You know he's sixteen, right?" Velvet spoke dryly.
"Oh, yes I know. And apparently that didn't stop you when you met him." Delilah nodded, and smirked when Velvet seemed like she had been punched in the gut.
"Hey, I don't know what crap you heard, but I never-!"
"It doesn't matter what you did or didn't do, Velvet. The rumors have started regardless, and you did take advantage of him, one way or another, did you not?"
"Y..yes…" Velvet stuttered, her eyes turning blue as she did so.
"Okay, look ma'am. I don't know who you are, but this doesn't seem to be helpin' anyone." Vox spoke up, pushing Velvet behind him and narrowing his screen-eyes. "My… associate, can be a little unruly. But our questions are legitimate. What interest do you have in the kid?"
"What interest did you have in him?"
"Ma'am. I'm trying to be serious here."
"As am I."
"A woman with your passion… I can appreciate it. You ever think about a career in… entertainment?" Valentino remarked, seeming far too casual.
"Yes, but unlike you, I have a shred of self-respect, and don't parade about wearing the result of Willy Wonka having rotten Indian food and wearing the corpse of Hobbes." Delilah growled.
"Ooh, you have a sharp tongue…" Val said softly, walking over behind Delilah and slowly draping his hands-on Delilah's shoulders. Velvet seemed upset that Val was acting this way, and Vox… he seemed to be slowly realizing something. "Now… how's about you forget about that freak, and we talk somewhere more… personal?"
Delilah grimaced at that remark. Her eye twitched, turning black for a second as her hand slowly moved towards her blades… It would be so easy, so fun…
"What are you doing!?" Her conscious suddenly screamed, stopping her in her tracks. "Do you want to find him or not!? Do you not remember your own rules!?"
"If it's money you're after, I am more than capable-" Delilah began, beginning to grow more and more irritated.
"Nah, I don't want money, I want to see your passion…" Valentino spoke, his teeth baring in a twisted grin. The kind of smile he showed those he had trapped, those who weren't going to see the red sky of hell as a 'free soul'. Delilah clicked her tongue, looking down at her belt, then closed her eyes.
"Very well."
In a movement so quick, everyone was caught off guard. Delilah spun in the chair, and flung Valentino to the ground. She stomped on his back, then grabbed his arm and twisted it, pinning it behind him as she flipped him over, all while hitting him in the face with her elbow. Dropping to one knee on his chest, she released two items from her belt. Valentino was left unable to react as Delilah suddenly got up in his face as her blades came to life, and her mask appeared on her face. The 'X' lighting up and her true power being seen.
"How's this… for passion?" She asked, menacingly.
"Holy shit, what the hell's an exterminator doing here!?" Velvet screamed, falling off the chair and desperately trying to get as far away from the Angel as she could. Vox just stared, unsure of how to react, and unsure of what to say.
"Now. You're going to talk, or you're going to find out what consequences come to those who interfere with the will of the one I serve." Delilah snarled, her mask somewhat metallicizing her voice, and a grin forming on her face as she saw the fear in the demon's eyes. "I'm only going to ask you one more time… The one named Mad Dawg. Where. Is he?"
"I don't know." Val shook his head, deciding just to tell the truth. "Angel Dust sent him over… talk to him, he's at that rehab place Lucy's kid is running."
"Thank you." Delilah nodded curtly, retracting her blades and removing her mask. She looked in disgust to Velvet and Vox, scoffed indignantly, then turned and left.