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The following is a fan-based
FICTION
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Chapter 7: Slaying Boomstick
I was no longer 'grounded'!
This detail should have normally gained the happy squeaks of children being deprived of playing outdoors with friends and animals. Sadly, for me it meant that I was supposed to do things that weren't easy or simple to get through without risking some issues coming up along the way.
In this case, the 'thing' was actually a shopping spree directed at Imp City. Alastor granted me the chance to finally check on expanding my pitiful arsenal to a newer gun. A revolver with possibly unlimited ammo was a good thing, but there wasn't just enough packing in case I faced something way bigger than the usual toughs. And considering the people I have hit with my fun car, I could only agree to this need.
Two locations, one to browse for the new addition to my arsenal, and the last place being where I could get some answers regarding the Angelic Scythe I was now owing. The thing had been with me for a long time now and, knowing how deadly and powerful it was, it just felt like a waste to not use when I needed to pack the heat in close quarters while sparing myself the need to train my aim at someone or something.
Uncle Al was surprisingly 'cultured' regarding the arms shops here in Hell, but he seemed rather adamant in not allowing me to check any of those here in Pentagram City. I could tell that it was tied to my current problems, yet I could tell there was also something more than just that. He didn't even tell me how his last encounter with the three Vs went, only that things should be fine until I kept away from their path while they were strolling. Which was fine since I wasn't planning to go around and pester any of them.
Still, preventing a problem was better than curing the issue when it happened. I needed to get some more firepower at my disposal and I was ready to finally stretch my bones for a small trip out of Pentagram City for something that I genuinely wanted to handle as quickly as doable. Only issue was that I wasn't alone for this jolly ride.
"You know, I don't remember being in this car before. Well, maybe I can't remember because… I was dying right in this seat!" Molly's exclamation was, surprisingly not so surprisingly, driven by giddiness. "Gasp! This is a sign. I call forever dibs on this seat from now on."
"You are awfully happy with that achievement," I pointed out with a frown and she grinned happily at me.
"Well, this is the very place I was when you saved me from certain death. Then you gave me a chance to live beyond that day and..." Her smile widened even more. "And I bet it will also be the place where you will take me, plow me hard and call me your little slu-"
"And that deprives you of talk privilege for a while," I interrupted flatly, feeling relieved that I had my mask on as I knew that if she knew how red my face was at that sudden smutty comment she would have pressed this advantage for more. I wasn't shy to that kind of language, but I was quick to grow embarrassed if it was those quick and partly unexpected quips of hers. "You may use the radio while we are moving."
Molly huffed, her mood damped as she looked at her side window. Despite her attempt to not give me any attention, she still reached to turn on the radio and… I was slowly reminded why Alastor said that doing so with the normal channels was a terrible idea.
"-And now, please allow me to give way to Verosika's latest hit! Vacay to Bonetown!"
The song was slow and particularly smooth-paced. It was the first time I heard something of this unusual genre, but… I was quite sure I have heard someone during my bartender training mentioning that some pop stars on Earth were starting to make new songs like this one. The tune was catchy… until I felt something wrong about it. My focus started to get dizzy and I was capable of keeping my eyes on the road just barely as I caught a couple of words in the lyrics that made me realize what the problem really was.
The woman singing was a Succubus. It was fitting with the sensual tone the song was building up and… why Molly was silently trying to reach with one of her hands my crotch. She paused as my right hand moved to swiftly turn the radio off and return peace and quiet within the vehicle. Eyes wide open, the Spider girl glanced at me with an inquisitive expression and I sighed.
"If you keep moderate with the lewd talking, you may regain the privilege of speaking. Only if you can hold the worst in. Understood?" I asked and she nodded, grinning brightly.
"Sorry," She quietly admitted and… I actually frowned at that tone. We spent the rest of the time left for the trip chatting about what our plans were for the week, and she mentioned she was still going to try and visit her brother the moment she was certain things were 'calm enough to wander around'.
A few minutes passed and, after I was done parking the car, we entered the first place we had to check for today. The 'Maximilianus Weapons of Maximum Carnage' had a name that was matched by the insane amount of guns, ammo crates and other military-grade equipment that I really didn't expect to find in a normal gun shop. Then again, this was Hell and… yeah, things were also cheaper than expected.
People really made the business of 'killing others' a common shopping issue.
Molly gasped again, looking around as if a little girl were being given the chance of checking the biggest toy store in the world. Drooling while her eyes were comically wide open before the lengthy list of things that were on display and other things that were just visible on the distance considering how big of a shop this one actually was.
"There are so many guns here! I didn't know that a place like this existed- heck, in Pentagram City there isn't a shop this massive," The girl exclaimed eagerly. "Oh, can I look around? I wanted to buy something for Angie when I visited him. A gift or something like that."
"I mean, are you going to use your money for that right? It's a gift so-"
"Yep, my cash. So… I will go now, bye~!"
And… the young woman was out of my sight. The humongous room was a pure maze of walls and guns, and other equipment that would have made a weapon fanatic have multiple wet dreams at once. I was a little hyped for the place, but I was controlled about my reaction as I began to look around for the things Alastor mentioned I had to check for.
Rifles were a big no. While I could do well with some long-range punishment to dispense against my foes, my interest currently lied over something that was favorable in close range. Something flexible but packing a punch that was meant to do the job it was required to. Kill its targets with a single shot.
It was clear that the Radio Demon was implying that I needed to check for shotguns, and I really was happy about it. I knew how to work shotguns since I was fourteen but… it's been three years since I last used a gun of that caliber and I wasn't really sure I could handle the knockback like I used to. I still looked around for anything that managed to catch my attention and, eventually, I delved deep enough to find a couple of old WW2 equipment. Some were even older with a couple of WW1 stuff sticking around and disrupting the mostly linear genre I was browsing.
Lots of submachine guns, assault guns, I found a couple of Panzerfausts and even a Recoilless Rifle, one of those Airborne-only Bazookas. Nothing that actually managed to catch my attention since I was looking at something quite specific. I was just studying the quality of a Sjogren shotgun, when I felt a strange emotion wrap around my chest. An impulse of sorts that was coming right from a nearby cache. I settled down the gun I had been checking on, my eyes narrowing as I tried to find out the thing that had me 'pulled' into it.
I paused as I found the origin of the unexpected impulse. I blink and… and then I proceeded to take the familiar M1897 shotgun in my hands. I just couldn't believe it that it was the same as the one I was thinking about. It even had the same engravings on the right side of the wooden section of the pump that great-grandpa had mentioned having carved back during his active service in the Pacific. A sharp 'N' followed by a deer-like drawing.
What is this doing here?
I could remember Nestor showing me pictures of it and saying that he had lost it in the War against Japan. By all means, this shouldn't be here and… yet it was. Ignoring the confusion behind the 'how' this tool of deadly close encounters was here, I proceeded to bring it to the counter and see if the shop-keeper knew anything about it.
The imp was behaving pompously as his name, Maximilianus, demanded him to be. Standing atop three small boxes to boost his height, the guy was still quite friendly towards paying customers but… he seemed to turn serious the moment I approached with the gun.
"My, oh my. It would seem like this cursed item has finally found the fool it was meant to be taken by. I lost way too many good assistants trying to stupidly handle that murderous trap."
I frowned at that 'greeting' and I sarcastically added mine. "And hello to you too, sir."
"None of that. I guess you are here to buy it."
"Something like that, yes. But I would first inquire about how this ended up here since, well, I know that its former owner lost it in the Pacific."
The imp frowned. "Truly? From what our specialists could deduce, this gun was retrieved after a Demon was pushed back on the realm of mortals. Common business a few decades ago, since many of the current overlords of Pentagram City tried to make their way back to the living world."
Now it was my turn to frown since that didn't make any sense. I believe Great-Grandpa Nestor would have mentioned fighting some Demon in his lifetime and…
Could it be that Uncle Al is… part of this?
I had to ask him before drawing any awkward conclusion. Surely there was a sillier explanation than the unpleasant worry that had slowly gained hold over my mind. There had to be something I wasn't missing, something that the dreams were trying to tell me that could help me understand.
Then again, would he answer something this important?
Alastor had been fairly open about his connection with Nestor. The dreams were keen to corroborate that, beyond the unpleasant woman that was great-great-grandma, the two were fairly close and in a good relationship. He never mentioned anything bad about Nestor, and I remembered the old man being also on the same page about his memory about Uncle Al.
But still, if they had been fine with each other to the very end, why did he dissuade anyone in the family to ever approach the old family manor?
That question just was too important to gloss over and I knew something had to have happened. These visions, those weren't normal by any definition and I knew that it was tied to some dark secret of the two I wasn't aware about. And I needed to know somehow.
Would Rosie help?
No. She was more attached to Uncle Al than me, and she would rat me out if she misunderstood my concerns to be driven by wrong reasons. Which is why… I needed to think more about it. Despite the fact that I was done with my shopping, with Molly still busy bolting back and forth between the aisles to check ammo and weapons alike, I decided to stray away from the counter and check on something else I could have picked. Guns were nice, but I wasn't going to say no to something sharp and quick to draw into action without major delays. Something that could actually cut and kill any poor bastard that ended up attacking me.
Knives. There were numerous types and from numerous cultures. Some were really traditional, and I paused before a Kukri or two before my mind reminding me that I wasn't exactly prepared to handle something as complex as that. It had to be something I was still able to use and knew something about.
I paused before the switchblades section and… I sighed. I sure was no longer into that kind of poison, so I skimmed after just a look until I was in the next cache of small doom-givers. I checked something that I could still work with and… I paused over a butterfly knife. I doubted I could use one, but I always wanted to try using one of those fun things.
Slowly but surely I began understanding how the bits of the blades moved, building up confidence as I started to grow faster and faster with my pace until-
"That's some nice moves," A voice called on the side, making me lose focus and actually get the blade to almost cut my glove. I caught the hilt just in time and got the entire blade sheathed before glancing at the intruder that almost got me to cut myself.
The girl, an imp, was looking at me with her head slightly tilted on the left side to catch my actions with the butterfly knife. Atop her head, two black horns stretched upward with three thin white stripes encircling around those. Her grayish-black hair was styled in a messy bob, with some of her bangs covering half of her right horn. On her left cheek a tiny beauty mark and her lips had some black lipstick applied to those.
Her current outfit consisted of a simple black choker, black crop top with gold buttons near to the straps, right where the upper section met with the torso section. She also had torn black pants, fingerless black gloves, and black footwear that didn't completely cover her hoof-like toes.
"Yeah, it's been a while since I tried my hand at these kinds of blades."
"You didn't lose any of that experience, rusty-hands," She chirpily pointed out and I nodded.
"Some habits just don't leave," I admitted quietly, swiftly regaining the bearing of the situation instead of musing over the past. "Still, I didn't expect to find a knife-enthusiast today."
"And that makes the two of us. I'm Millie."
I smiled, feeling like I had heard that name before… "Alan."
"My husband was finishing shopping for new equipment. I was just checking if there were new additions yet. It would seem like I will have to come back next week to see some finer knives," The imp explained. "What about ya?"
"Trying to find a good substitute to a handgun in case I lost my gun during work. To avoid… awkward turns during my shifts."
"Oh, then I would suggest a normal military-grade knife. Nothing too flashy, or 'cool'. Action requires flexibility."
I nodded at that serious recommendation and I was surprised when she passed me a knife she recovered from the cache in front of us. Small, sharp and… strong-looking. The metal was reinforced from the looks of it and I knew that despite the nice price this was a good product.
"You have experience with this one?"
"I have tons of those back home. It makes for a good tool to have around when the danger is around the corner."
I nodded again, leaning back to the cache to retry three more of those daggers. They were cheap, so I was still within budget with those and the shotgun. With this done, I left Millie to wait for her husband to be done with his shopping spree, and I found Molly was already by the counter and… arguing with the owner of the shop.
"Can't it be cheaper?" She whined and the shop-keeper huffed.
"Nope. It's that or you can pick this 'gift' and get it back to the shelf you found it."
I sighed, shaking my head when I arrived close enough to do something about the scene. "What's going on?"
The imp huffed. "The girl wanted a discount. I gave her a 5% off, and she wanted more."
"It's old-"
"But still commonly used by just a small group of people here in Hell," He interjected flatly, lifting up a modified version of the M1928. It had a drum magazine which was commonly used by gangsters. The Chicago Typewriter, many used to call it and now Molly was trying to buy it for her brother. I was confused why such an iconic weapon would be considered a gift to someone. Unless her family was… actually, I don't think I asked her much about her family. Maybe it was right to believe her siblings and parents were part of the mafia.
"Why do you need a discount, Molly?"
…
"I said-"
"It's a little beyond what I have on myself," The girl admitted with some annoyance. "The price has risen since last time I saw it on display."
"Mostly because people are known to destroy those as a sign of humiliation to those that use them," Maximilianus explained. "That's why those cost a lot more than before."
…
"How much are you short of?" I asked, feeling rather unwilling to handle bartering for a better deal.
"I don't need-"
"How much?" I pressed on, keeping a calm tone while saying this.
…
"Twenty."
I shrugged, pulling two bills of fifty while settling the knives on the counter too. "This should be enough to pay anything."
The imp nodded without hesitation. "Do you need the change or-"
"Keep it. I find this shop well-furnished and… I doubt many stop to say this, but I will probably come back to buy her frequently," I explained with a smile. "I'm sure that, despite it being a little, the shop will enjoy a little bit of money from a future frequent client."
He smiled, almost chuckling at what I was implying and bid us a good day with a genuine voice.
With that out of the way, we just had one last thing left before getting back to the manor.
Final stop before going home.
This time the place was set on the outskirts, away from the bigger squares of buildings where Imp City's life was most active. No, we were going to the small 'uninhabited' section of the settlement that hadn't been used by normal citizens. A place where only the deranged and the most depraved were known to lurk around and enjoy tending ambushes to any poor unarmed individual unwittingly passing by.
I wasn't afraid of this since I had decided to wander around the area while holding my newly-bought shotgun over my shoulders and looking left and right while I tried to calm down Molly.
"It's fine-"
"You had to pay because I wasn't prepared for the big price. I feel so stupid but- I will get everything back."
"No need. We're friends," I flatly answered, but she didn't seem to catch on what I had said for a little while.
"How about a 2% interest so we can avoid having some troubles about… what?"
"Um?" I rebuked quietly and she gave me a serious look.
"What did you say now? The reason why it's fine."
…
"We are friends," I repeated calmly. "Is there a problem with that?"
"Just that it doesn't make… much sense," The girl admitted. "You aren't that happy that I'm around."
…
"Molly?"
She blinked. "Yes Alan?"
"Just because we disagree a lot, that doesn't mean I don't like you as a friend," I reminded her. "It's natural that we found some elements we disagree a lot about. But we aren't in a constant state of bickering."
…
"So you don't mind if I get crazy and… make you angry?"
"I mean, I get angry when you go out of your way to exaggerate on a couple of things. That doesn't mean I stop liking you as a person," I replied with a sigh. "You are a good person regardless of your… extreme quirks at times."
She giggled. "That's… nice. I mean it. I really didn't expect to hear that," She replied happily, before then adopting a serious look. "You know, since this part of town doesn't have many people around, we could just… dive in an alley and I can give you head-"
"Molly, I just finished saying I wasn't up for extreme comments," I remarked and the girl just… giggled.
"I know," Molly mentioned eagerly. "But I just like how fun you are when you are that flustered and still amused by my devious thoughts."
…
"I'm not amused."
"Li-ar~!"
I could only sigh at the refusal to that absolute truth. Still, our conversation was cut short as we actually arrived at our destination. The two-floors building looked particularly run-down and possibly abandoned at a first look. Yet Uncle Al had been quite certain that someone was inside there and handling specific kinds of orders regarding Angelic weapons.
We entered the building and… we were greeted by a magical seal that activated the moment we made our first step into the entrance. My eyes widened as I felt a thin layer of something warm coat my entire body and then go away with the same speed it became apparent to my senses. Magic? It felt the most logical conclusion, so I stuck by that notion. Molly seemed to have felt it too by the way her posture tensed up to regard this development.
Despite this odd beginning, our combined attention was easily stolen when we heard the noise of someone slowly clapping their hands at us. Standing fairly tall, a little taller than Alastor, the blue-skinned Demon had short gray hair combed in a short cut that had its sides shaved. Black scleras over his light-green pupils, a bright white full-toothed smile showed a mix of creepy and warm. He was wearing a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up, with a dark-gray tie around his neck. Dark-brown pants keeping properly thanks to a dark belt that matched in shade with the color of his shoes.
"New clients. It's been a long time since I received someone interested in my services," The tall man said kindly, bowing slightly. "Welcome."
I blinked, surprised by the unexpected warmth behind this greeting. "You are… Azzie?"
"That's a name I've given to a couple of individuals," The owner of this place admitted, his lips turning in a thin line at that inquiry. "But yes, I suppose you are tied to one of my close associates."
"The Radio Demon," I curtly added and his smile was back on his face.
"Ah, that's a name I haven't heard in a long time. How is Alastor?"
"Well," I replied. "Kind of peckish over the sudden increase of prices for... venison meat."
The Demon hummed in agreement. "The economy keeps on fluctuating between price reductions and sudden increases. It's only natural but hopefully things will be cheaper in a few months," He answered readily. "So, how may I help you today. Do you need a blessing of sorts?"
"It's about an Angelic weapon, sir," I commented with a nod, ignoring how distracted Molly was at that very moment. Her attention was currently split between eyeing the shop-keeper and looking at the merchandise in display. Books, amulets, crystals, some sets of armor and a couple of normal-looking swords were currently set on various shelves all over the place.
"Oh? That's a pleasant surprise," He hummed happily. "And I suppose you have it on yourself?"
I nodded, bringing out the cylinder out of my jacket's left pocket. His attention was quickly on my palm as I held out the object for him to look at.
"That's quite odd. Your skin isn't burning by merely touching the Angelic Steel," Azzie mused with a serious tone. "The gloves aren't affected by protective magic, which means that… you are a human."
"Maybe I'm just born wrong," I blurted out as a tactical defense at the sudden accusation, only for the demon to chuckle at my words.
"Maybe you are, but that doesn't mean you are protected by the dangerous effects of holding a pure Angelic Weapon with ease. The fact you are doing so without trouble and… since the Scythe has bonded with you, it's the only logical option."
…
"Bonded?"
"No longer defending the fact you are a human?" The man sarcastically asked before nodding. "It's not unusual for Angelic Weapons to be tamed by humans. It's mostly tied to the reason those are used the first time they are drawn. I guess you didn't use it to assault someone, but rather as a self-defense response to someone attacking."
"The… Exorcist that tried to kill me when I first came by."
"And you managed to get their weapon and use it against them? That's a lucky event. I hope you understand that," Azzie remarked with an awed look. "Still, I suppose you are here to gain an answer to use it. You wish to make use of something created by God Himself during your stay here in hell."
I nodded. "It's heavy-"
"That's because it was fit to be used by warriors harshly trained in Heaven to be strong and well-disciplined," He interrupted. "You might be able to use it. Eventually. But for now I suppose you can do with a replacement to start putting up some muscles while learning how to fight with that weapon."
As he said this, he moved back to the nearby counter and returned with a small dark-gray cylinder.
"This is a weapon similar to the one you are using. The difference is that the presence of Angelic Steel is severely diluted in the metal making up this blade, and, while it can still permanently kill demons, sinners, you would still require to invest some time to handle real damage against them."
"So it's like training, but… I can still do something meaningful against my foes if I'm careful enough and don't get too cocky."
He nodded. "Yep."
"I suppose this will do but… how much would this cost?" I asked, knowing that this was still going to be rather expensive. While it was a weapon with diluted Angelic Steel, it was still Angelic Steel. And that shit was pretty expensive from what I've read about books talking about this topic.
"Nothing."
…
"What?"
"Or rather, think of this as a personal investment of mine to see how far you will go with the current standing you are in."
I frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"You are in a peculiar position, young man. A human in Hell that can rely on the support of a prominent Overlord while also controlling an Angelic Weapon? You will be quite the big piece in the greater chessboard. Either… a Rook or a Queen."
I didn't exactly understand the references, but I merely nodded at his comment. I knew that this guy, this 'Azzie' was withholding something more about the circumstance but I could tell it wasn't tied to the weapon he gave me. I was quick to mutter a 'thank you' and a 'goodbye' before leaving the building with Molly as quickly as I could.
The sight of the man looking at me and telling me an ominous 'see you soon, then' had me unnerved for a good few hours.
I don't know why, but I feel like I have met someone dangerous today.
AN
Ah! Alan made a new acquaintance… and he came close to find back Moxxie. Ah, the tease this author is~!
It will happen, just not this suddenly and without a good enough reasoning. It will be epic, it will be huge, it will be-
EPIC~!
REVIEW Q&A!
Coldblue2015:
1) It's a strong possibility;
2) That's a big yes. And there is more to it than just mere petrification;
3) Yeah. Some beverages are generally limited to race-specific clients to avoid any awkward issues in Hell itself;
4) Maybe;
5) Yes.
King0fP0wers: The flashbacks happen before the prologue. Human Al died in a hunting accident, so the irony is created by nature itself. Or maybe there is someone else to blame that has yet to appear in this story.
Imhappy0126: Only thing I can say is that Alan isn't exactly normal, and he is a sucker for family-based affection which makes him malleable to adapt to new circumstances, such as Hell. I've already left a couple of cheeky references to what might have happened. Even in this chapter. The reason why he trusted Loona is more tied to the fact she already knew he was human the moment she started to shred his fake background over how he ended up in the situation of saving Moxxie. It was either taking a huge risk and be discovered by a pissed Loona, or come out clean and prevent the worst from happening.
SAK-96: I might not be a gun professional, but I know how to move around this kind of circumstances.
Zirxces: The only thing I can say right now without any major spoilers is that Alan's demonic form will be subject of theories and hypothesis from many important individuals in this universe.
