Author's Note: Hope those henchmen worked up an appetite...


"So, that's two for feet, one for 'diknbussy in a bouquet' - 'bouquet' is spelled right, somehow - and two for hand/forearm, one of which has an addendum that appears to be me in coitus with a… shiny boxtruck?" Pall looked up from the polls. "Is that a boxtruck?"

"It was supposed to be a garbage truck," said Shoresy. "You can tell by the stink lines."

"I thought that meant it was shiny."

"It can be a shiny garbage truck."

"It appeerz we'z reeched an impasse," said Stompah. "Wot sez we sendz a mitt, a foot, and 'iz boy-bitz an' callit a day, yeh?"

"This is why we keep you around, Stompah," said Steppenwulf. "Our resident diplomat."

The huge, ogre-ish demon nodded. "It'z a gifd."

"Right, then," said Steppenwulf, rising to his feet. "Holes. Get cuttin'."

The former freelancers, who'd taken to a game of cards among themselves, shot to their feet, implements in hand. They circled around the now very panicked incubus, cackling and growling threats.

"Shame our pies are taking so long," mumbled Shoresy. "Jammy'd want to see this."

"His fault," grunted Steppenwulf. "Ordering that feast. Still, though, he oughta be back by now. I swear, if that randy cumrag's getting freebies from the staff while we're working, I'll rip off his head and–"

A large, rounded object sailed over their heads and thudded on the concrete between the gangsters and the newly-acquired 'talent'. The round thing lolled about on one axis before settling on another, rolling towards them. On the ground was Jamser's head, his eyes leering off in other directions.

"What." Steppenwulf said, leaning over. "What?"

"Izzat…?"

"Hey…" Pall muttered, kicking the head with his drake-leather boot. "Jamsy. Blink or something, asshole!"

Nothing. The eyes rolled with the head, staring, the face holding a dull rictus of fear and confusion.

"Fuck." Pall stepped back, ears flat against his skull. "Fuck. He's fucking dead."

Footsteps sounded from the darkness behind them. Crisp, sharp, the footfalls of hard, classy shoes clopping on the concrete. The pace was even, unhurried, as though strolling up to a toast among friends. All heads turned towards the source. Out of the shadows strode a demon. Some manner of sea-demon, as his fish-like face suggested, to say nothing of the carefully slicked back bundle rose-colored tentacles upon his head. He wore a pristine death-black three-piece suit with a tie so red it almost glowed. He came to a stop some meters away, one hand folded behind his back, in the other was a slice of pizza.

"Anchovies and pineapple…" He said, examining the slice, trepidation clear on his face. "...On pizza? Ah, well, in for a penny…"

The broad-shouldered Sinner took a bite and chewed, contemplating the mix of flavors. "Hmm… hm… no. Nope. Yuck."

He spat the mouthful off to the side before tossing the slice over his shoulder. "More for the kids, then."

"Who–?"

"You," the demon said, pointing to the succubus holding down Ixie. "Cut them loose."

The succubus nodded, taking the knife from the petrified impess with a trembling hand. The bindings cut, Trell scrambled away, breath coming out in sobbing shrieks. She moved on to Setty, slicing the ropes before kneeling, silently awaiting further orders. Setty growled and head-butted the Goldie, her forehead connecting with the middle of her face with a sickening crunch. The succubus wailed and clutched her bleeding face as Setty scampered over to the corner of the room where Trell was weeping, wrapping her arms around his heaving shoulders.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Steppenwulf barked, finally remembering his position. "Who the fuck are you?!"

Pall kicked the head again, still shocked. "What'd you do to Jamsers?"

"Answering in no particular order," said the sea-demon, smirking. "Opening negotiations. Conducting negotiations. Red Nightmare, Lady Belladonna's new negotiator."

"Red…?" Shoresy said, tone hushed. "Red Nightmare?"

"The Butcher of Azathoth," said Pall, his voice hoarse.

"Deyz still cleenin' Paco outta da Level Six carpet!" Stompah exclaimed.

"Fuck me," said Puck.

"Shaddup!" Steppenwulf snapped. "He's just some two-bit thug who's a sore loser! No demon worth his teeth would work for that dried up old cooze!" He turned back to Red, eyes narrowing. "So, 'negotiator' huh? What're the terms?"

"Leave," said Red, shooing them as though they were his Hellborn kids. "Now, in one piece, or later, in several. Makes no difference to me, though to be honest I could use the exercise."

"I bet. You've slimmed down some since your tantrum," Steppenwulf snorted. "How about a counter-proposal?"

Red grinned, his green eyes glittering. "By all means."

Steppenwulf raised his weapon, a blessing-tipped M249. His crew followed suit, Shoresy produced her beautifully etched S&W 500, Pall with his dual blessed Uzis, and Stompah with his customized .50 cal BAR. Even Puck pulled out his blessing-tipped Sig Sauer MPX.

"Lovely toys~" Red cooed.

"Ventilate this fool!" Steppenwulf roared.

The roar of gunfire filled the warehouse, blessed bullets shrieked through the air, covering the paltry few meters in a span of time too short for most demons to even register.

Most demons.

The guns went silent, the only sound in the room the plinking of brass as the casing bounced on the concrete. Steppenwulf stood at the front of the formation, eyes wide and ears flat. Did he really just see that?!

Standing before them, quite unharmed, was Red Nightmare, hands folded neatly behind his back, his surroundings peppered with bullet holes.

"Did we…?" Pall said, disbelief clear in his voice. "Did we fuckin' miss?!"

'No…' Steppenwulf thought, sharing a concerned glance with Shoresy; she'd seen it, too. 'Some shots went wide, sure, but we sure as shit didn't miss.'

"A fascinating rebuttal," said Red, his cheerful smile bone-chilling against the vicious glint in his eyes. "But I'm afraid I must decline. My terms stand unless you can come up with a compelling compromise."

"FUKK YOO!" Stompah roared, stepping forward.

He reached into his vest and used his demonic power, pulling out a modified blessing-tipped M61 Vulcan cannon. The six 20mm barrels spun in a blur as a meter-long jet of flame erupted from the end, the buzzing roar of the cannon rattling the teeth of all around as the remaining windows shattered. The barrage was cut off when a trail of bloody holes ripped into Stompah's rippling arm, the trigger handle of his cannon exploding as a bullet smashed through his enormous hand. Pall grunted as he was thrown backwards, spinning as a 20mm round carved a fist-sized chunk out of his side. Shoresy barely managed to swat a shell away from her face with an angelic blade, the force of the impact causing her to stumble. Steppenwulf growled in pain as three rounds hit, one grazing his cheek, the other smashing into his shoulder, and the last punching a hole in his gut. He stumbled backwards, barely managing to stay on his feet, the pain was sharp, burning, but he didn't care, his eyes glued on Red Nightmare.

He just did it again.

It had been fast, so damned fast. He'd almost failed to see it the first time, but this time he'd been paying attention, focusing. Steppenwulf was fast - not as fast as Shoresy, mind - but if he saw it coming he could reliably catch a bullet, even the fast sniper ones! He'd just been so dumbfounded by what he saw that those ricochets caught him off guard.

He flicked it.

Just as the first bullet streaked into reach, Red had reached out and flicked it with his middle finger. But that's not all! The bullet tumbled backwards, spinning as it did, colliding with another, bouncing off that one and sending it tumbling as well, both then bouncing off two others, then four, then eight and on and on. In the span of a horny imp's hump the entire stream of 20mm cannon shells had been scattered like a snooker-shot from Lucifer's darkest dreams!

Shoresy was at his side, her eyes wide. "You okay, babe?"

"Yeah," Steppenwulf grunted, painfully steadying himself on his feet. "Just got sloppy. Won't happen again."

"Erhg…" Stompah grunted, looking at his bleeding, shredded arm, more confused than in pain. "Wot?"

"Stompah!" Puck cried from the huge Sinner's shoulder, fretting over the wounds.

"Come now, big guy!" Red said, stepping out of the lingering gunsmoke. "That was the same argument you made before, just louder."

"WAAAAAAGH!" Stompah bellowed and lunged at the Sinner, grabbing the useless M61 by the barrel and raising it like a club.

He swung over five-hundred pounds of metal and ammunition down with the force of a wrecking ball. Red smirked and raised his arm as though in class, hand closed in a lazy fist. The motor and ammo-drum exploded in a shower of hot metal and ruptured gunpowder, the propellant sparking and fizzling like fireworks. Stompah gawped at the warped barrels in his hand, looking up to see Red's smiling face peer out of the cloud of burning gunpowder.

"Well said, big fellow," Red chirped, patting him on the head. "You raised some excellent points."

Before anyone could blink, a red, studded fist smashed into Stompah's face, sending his enormous bulk hurtling backwards, leaving a trail of blood and teeth in the air.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck me, this hurts…" Pall hissed as he got to his feet, clutching his wounded side. "Hey! I'm hit! Someone get me a–"

He was cut off as some nine hundred pounds of green demon smashed into him at speed, sending them both smashing into the far wall, destroying a shelving unit.

"Well, that was fun," Red sighed, turning to Steppenwulf and Shoresy. "Oh? Zelda, Dog-Person, I apologize, I forgot you were there. You may go now."

Shoresy held out her hands, the silver rings on all her fingers glowed as ten Seraphim Steel poignards rose from various points on her body, they hovered in the air, circling her. Steppenwulf growled and drew two angelic battleaxes, teeth bared in a ferocious snarl.

"You're going to fight me? Really?" Red said, bemused. "Was all that preamble not an indicator of how this is going to go down?"

"What's the matter?" Steppenwulf growled. "Scared to fight some real demons?"

"Honestly, I'm a little stunned at how bad a move you're making, Lassie. I mean, you do know that you've grown a few extra holes, right?" Red leaned forward and squinted, pursing his full lips together. "...I think I see through one of them…"

Steppenwulf shifted his body into vapor for a moment before solidifying once more, the wounds caused by the blessed bullets gone, even his clothing had been repaired.

"Ooohohoho~!" Red tittered into his hand, amused, turning to Shoresy. "Rin-Tin-Tin's got some moves! How about you, Galadriel? Gonna summon up some water horses? …Wait, no, that's the wrong one. It was Liv Tyler's character, what was her name?"

Steppenwulf hurled one ax, Shoresy following shortly after with a knife. The ax spun through the air, faster than any bullet, the dagger close behind it. Red Nightmare was tapping his chin in thought with one hand, the other shot out and grabbed the ax-handle midway through its spin, turning it in his hand so that the axehead swung around and deflected the speeding blade with a crisp 'sping'. Steppenwulf roared, his wristbands glowing as he pulled himself to his weapon, the other ax raised.

With that same damned speed, Red reached out and grabbed Steppenwulf by the neck, locking the axehead around the haft of the lupine-crocodile's remaining ax, a relieved smile on his face. "Arwen! It was Arwen."

Steppenwulf vanished into smoke, drifting from his opponent's grasp and reappearing a couple meters away. The ax dropped from the lock, Steppenwulf grabbing it in an instant. He glowered at Red as the demon smirked back.

"Intangibility. Nnneat." Red tossed him the other ax, evidently bored with it. "What say I teach you a new trick, Fido?"

Steppenwulf lunged forward, swinging one ax high, at his head, the other low, at his gut. Once again, Red grabbed the hafts and pulled the slightly smaller demon close, eyes glinting.

"How about 'play dead'?"

Steppenwulf was smiling now. "I don't play."

The muscular demon shifted into a humanoid mass of vapor just as four angelic poignards streaked through the ephemeral mass. Red's brow furrowed slightly, the axes spinning in his hands like propellers, sending the speeding blades wide. His grip lessened slightly, the battleaxes glowed and were ripped from his grasp, speeding through the air and into the Steppenwulf's hands as he rematerialized next to Shoresy.

"Tch. Teamwork," Red grumbled, bobbing and weaving out of the way of those same four blades as they tried to skewer his back. "That's annoying."

"You got skill, I'll give you that," said Steppenwulf. "What's a guy like you doing in a shithole like this? Y'know, man of your talents could go a long way with the Vees."

"I have my reasons," said Red, shrugging. "And while the offer to slaughter those degenerates and take over their empire is tempting, I'm going to have to pass. Thanks, though."

Steppenwulf snarled, this idiot really thought he could take the Vees down?! "You–"

"But don't worry!" Red interrupted, eyes sparkling as Seraphim Steel gauntlets flashed into existence on his hands and forearms. "Before too long, you'll all be working for me anyway."


Setty shook her head, her ears ringing. The first row of gunfire was bad enough, but she only barely managed to cover her ears when she saw the big oaf bust out the fucking cannon! The stink of gunpowder hung thick in the air, making her gag. The first sound that filtered through her dazed ears was a wet retch from below her. She looked down to see Trell had vomited on her shoe. The trembling incubus was curled up on the floor, his eyes wide and full of tears, staring and seeing nothing. He'd always been too sensitive for this work.

She sighed, wincing as her ribs screamed at her. Pain had never been much of a deterrent to her. Some Johns liked it rough and didn't hold back on her account. Some of the girls at the Carriage House would call her 'Ol' Painless' when they thought she couldn't hear them. Still, those Goldies had worked her over good. Nothing felt broken, but there was a sharp pain on her left ribs when she breathed in, and her back and belly were a throbbing mass of bruises and scrapes from getting stomped on and kicked. They'd layed off the head, though, so no dizziness. By Asmodeus, she needed a smoke.

She jerked up at what sounded like a mix between a car crash and a fireworks display, just in time to see the enormous mass of the big green Sinner streaking towards her and Trell. Acting fast, she scooped up the younger teen and leapt out of the way, the huge Sinner smashing into the shelving unit a scant second later, crumpling the metal like tin foil.

"Ged uffa me!" A voice from under the hulk moaned.

"Stompah! Stompah!" The little imp with a bowler cap said, frantically, slapping his cheeks. "Wake up! C'mon, don't you grow a glass jaw on me, not now!"

"Wait," Setty said, rising to her feet. "You can talk?"

"Uh!" Puck grunted, eyes darting side to side. "Puck talk! Yeh yeh! Puck talk talk talk!"

She pulled out her knife, snarling. "Stow it! Answer my questions or I'll make you into a purse!"

"Okay okay okay!" Puck said, his screeching simpleton voice now low and cultured. "Easy there, girly. What do you want to know?"

"You're here to expand the Vees territory while no one's looking, yeah? 'Cause of the war. But why just the five of you?"

"Six," Puck corrected, pointing at himself. "I count myself as a member, too, you know."

"Five," growled Setty, slashing a finger across her neck. "Or did you forget your cocksock pal just got a whole lot shorter?"

"Hey…" Puck said, frowning. "That's my friend you're talking about!"

She lunged up, pressing the tip against his forehead. "Wanna make it four?!"

"Sorry! Sorry! What else do you want to know?"

"You dipshits were recruiting the Goldies. Why? Shouldn't you have, like, henchmen or something?"

"Technically, my dear, we're henchmen, as we're ranking operatives in a larger organization," the imp said in a scholarly tone. "But you're right. For this sort of thing we'd normally have at least a score of minions, and a couple dozen hired goons or, Satan forbid, petty thugs! But I'm afraid our bosses are a touch pressed on manpower at the moment."

Setty nodded. "Because of the war."

"That's right," said Puck, smirking. "As you no doubt suspected. My dear, I dare say you have a head for this sort of thing."

"Shut up!" Setty hissed, poking his forehead with the tip of the stiletto, hard enough to hurt but not enough to break skin. "So, the Vees are grabbing up everyone's backyard while their backs are turned, but can't spare much from the front. What I wanna know is how married to this plan they are. We send you assholes packing, then what?"

"Oh, you're concerned about reprisals?" Puck said, smiling as he pushed the blade away with a finger. "That all depends on how carried away your boyfriend over there gets. Killing Jamsers was a good way to break the ice, but if he's smart he'll send the rest of us back in one piece."

"Yeah?" Setty said, looking over at Red, who was presently making a show of chumping the lead two, effortlessly bobbing and weaving around knives and axes, playfully swatting the lesser demons away with his metal-clad hands. Part of her was flatly amused to have found an adult who wasn't a completely useless asshole, and it took almost getting killed to do it. "Why's that? Valentino likes you idiots or something?"

Puck laughed and waved her off. "Hardly! We're specialized talent, though, difficult to find. And losing such assets in a peckerwood burb like this place? Why, the Vees would be reputation-bound to send a follow-up crew, a proper one. No, what Mr. Nightmare needs to do is rough us all up and send us running home, tails twixt our legs, to deliver his terms to the Bosses."

"To show he's strong enough to beat you all and let you live," said Setty, nodding. "That way, the Vees see there's someone here that makes taking this place more trouble than it's worth."

"You really are quite sharp, aren't you Miss, uh, Setty, was it?" Puck said, nervously. "There. I answered your questions, Setty. Could you put the knife away… please?"

Setty rolled her eyes and sheathed the stiletto. "Sure, whatever. Unless you dipshits want to get beat up some more, I'd suggest you get on that 'twixt your legs' crap before Red finishes playing with your friends."

She turned to walk away when Puck cleared his throat. "Yes, about that, Setty - lovely name, by the way - might I bother you for some assistance?"

"Why the fuck would I help you with anything, asshole?"

"Well, you see, under my heavy associate here is our portalmancer," Puck said, patting Stompah's mountainous frame. "If you want us gone, you'll help me get him out from under there."

Setty groaned and sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't get paid enough for this shit."


"Wuff!" Shorsey grunted as a metal-clad arm impacted her ribs, pushing out and sending her flying backwards and tumbling across the floor.

Pushing.

This guy was pushing them around.

Those mitts were Seraphin Steel, and if his rampage at the Azathoth was anything to go by, he could tear through just about anything barehanded. The fact that they were still in one piece meant only one thing: he was toying with them. That stung, but with it came a disturbing revelation, one that made her blood run cold. He was sending a message. Just killing them would bring the Vees down on him in force, but sending them back battered, bruised, and beaten would get the point across to the Vees like nothing else: leave my territory or I'll make you pay for it.

This guy knew the game.

This guy was a pro.

Steppenwulf overhand threw both battleaxes at Red Nightmare. He effortlessly dodged them, merely stepping sideways, sliding between them. Steppenwulf smiled and his bracelets glowed, the axes slowing in mid-air before swinging backwards, towards Red once more. Steppenwulf lunged towards him, vanishing into smoke at the last second. Red smirked and spun around, fingers curled into claws, raking his Seraphim Steel talons up Steppenwulf's torso the instant he rematerialized to grab his flying axes. He screamed in agony as steam and blood surged from the deep slashes. Red cackled and wound back, aiming a blade-like hand at his exposed belly. At the last second the crocodilian-wolf disapportated, Red's arm skewering where his guts had been a second earlier. Red smirked and turned around to see Steppenwulf rematerialized next to his partner, dropping to one knee and panting, blood pouring from the four long gashes that ran up his belly and across his chest to his shoulder.

"Step!" Shoresy cried, at his side in an instant. "How bad is it, babe?"

"Just a flesh wound!" Red called out. "I'm not done smacking you dipshits around yet. It wouldn't do for me to break my toys, would it?"

Steppenwulf growled, panting in pain as he clutched his bleeding belly.

"That's interesting, though," Red mused, pointing a metal-plated finger at his chest. "Blessed bullet holes just 'fwish'. Gone. But get tagged with some good ol' Shiny Shit and… heh, well that don't buff out so good, does it, Balto?"

"F-fucker…" Steppenwulf grunted, getting to his feet. "Loves to hear himself talk, doesn't he?"

"I find the deep, smooth timbre and chipper cadence of my voice pleasing, yes." Red paused, considering something for a moment. "Oh, hey, sorry if I've been leaning into the dog jokes a bit too much. You've got, like, scaly parts on you, and that tail, right? It's just that I can't really think of anything suitably insulting regarding crocodiles. Hold on, I'll come up with something…"

As Red muttered to himself, Shoresy set her hand on her lover's shoulder. "Step, c'mon, let's bounce! This guy's way outta our league! We already lost Jamsers, Pall and Stompah're out of the fight, let's cut our losses and run!"

"Fuck that," sneered Steppenwulf. "This is my turf. Our turf! We're gonna roll in and take what's ours and no shitheel in a cheap suit with fancy gloves is gonna chase us off!"

"Just so you know…" Red cleared his throat, miffed. "The suit's not cheap."

"Babe," Steppenwulf said, taking her hands in his. "It's like you said. This is our chance! Our big chance! Val sees us pull this off, and we're running this hood!"

"No, really. I don't think you quite comprehend the $oul-value of this suit. This a Braille-brand Kingsley! 220s Wrath wool with a Gluttony silk inlay! And look at this stitching! Exquisite!"

"All the Goldies and Fagins and pissant gangs, they'll all come to heel and we'll set up a proper operation! Once we do that, we'll just keep on expanding, making money and developing land! We'll be bigshots, baby! Just like I always said we'd be!"

"To say nothing of what I did to get it!" Red said, tapping the gauntlets. "These too! Both belonged to a great big fellow. Huge, even! Heh… well, he's considerably shorter now, I'll tell you that much!"

"Babe, I know…" Shoresy said, setting a hand on his face. "We'll get there. We have the tools and the talent! But right now, we're out of our depth, and if we keep going someone else could get killed!"

"No!" Steppenwulf roared. "Val gave me this job himself! To my face! If I run back to him, tail between my legs…"

"Funny expression, that," Red muttered. "On bipeds, aren't tails always between the legs?"

"Chased outta nowheresville! We'd be ruined! Our rep! Our standing! We'd get busted down to guard duty, like always!"

"Step! Listen!" Shoresy snapped, eyes blazing. "I know you want to impress Val. I know you want us to make it. Babe! I want to make it, too! But we are in WAY over our heads here! This guy knows the game! He knows the plays! He's a pro! You fight him, he's gonna chew you up and spit you out on Val's doorstep as a message!"

"Don't you think I know that?!" Steppenwulf roared, causing her to flinch.

"Lawks-a-mercy!" Red clapped a metal-plated hand to his cheek, grinning. "This soap opera's gettin' good!"

"We beat him, we beat Red Nightmare, and we're golden!" Steppenwulf said, eyes sparkling. "Think of the rep! We could become Overlords ourselves!"

"Or corpses!" Red called out. "More likely you'll become corpses!"

"Babe…" Shoresy said, forebodingly.

"Sorry, sugartits," Steppenwulf said, smiling. "I couldn't fuck you how you like it ever again if I knew I backed down from a chance like this."

Shoresy slumped in defeat as her lover made a bee-line for the sea-demon, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She turned to what remained of her team for support. Stompah was still out like a light, mumbling as Puck had… somehow managed to talk the gorgeous little whore into helping him move the semi-conscious lug. Unsurprising, Puck could talk a Quaker out of his oats. She saw Pall, bitching and moaning, as he slowly wriggled out from under the shifting bulk.

An idea flashed behind her eyes.

"Call me Steve Irwin!" Red Nightmare crowed. "'Cause imma boutta wrassle me a gator!"

"Steve Irwin caught crocodiles," Steppenwulf sneered. "Because he's the Crocodile Hunter. Also, I'm part crocodile or something, so, yeah, that one fell flat."

"Everyone's a damned critic…" grumbled Red.

Steppenwulf summoned his battle axes to his hands and marched up to Red Nightmare, his expression set and unyielding. Right up to the powerful demon he walked, not a whit of fear in his posture. The two came face to face, Steppenwulf glaring up at the slightly taller demon. Red smiled down on him, cold, green eyes alight with amusement.

"Before we kick this shindig off, Schnappi," Red crooned, grinning a shark's grin. "Just let me say thank you."

That caught him off guard, he blinked.

"Really," said Red, his voice thick with glee. "From the bottom of my heart. Thank you. You idiots. My work-life has been… not great. Tolerating people. Not killing who I want to kill. Not that you care, but learning how to manage an orphanage ain't easy! Honestly, it's been a nightmare! But then you imbeciles come along and mess things up. Really spit in my eye! Bless you, you pathetic, buffoon-shaped stress-balls! I'm going to squeeze you and your team a bit more before I send you back to the Vees, to let them know I'll make Alpo out of the next mutt they send my way. That sound good to you?"

"Back to the dog puns?" Steppenwulf sneered. "Your shit-talk game needs work."

"What can I say? I reach for the low-hanging fruit," Red chuckled, shrugging. "And you're nothing if not a low-hanging fruit."

"Was that a come-on?"

"If you want it to be, big boy~"

"Fuck, you could cut the sexual tension over there with a knife," Shoresy called out. "Give your balls a tug, ya titfucker!"

They both stopped and looked over. Standing between them and the recovering Stompah and Pall was Shoresy, in one hand Setty, in the other a Seraphim Steel dagger. "One wrong move out of you, and pretty miss cocksleeve gets a new hole!"

"Shoresy!" Steppenwulf roared. "The fuck are you doing?!"

"Saving your life, you daft cunt!" Shoresy snapped, turning her gaze back to Red, hauling the young succubus off her feet and pulling her close, their cheeks touching. "Well? Work it all out, big boy? Think you can blitz me before I turn this fresh slice into a Pez dispenser!?"

The dagger slid out of her sleeve, pressing against the flesh of Setty's throat, dimpling it.

"Let her go." Red's voice was low, dangerous, any of the playful dickhead persona blown away like so much smoke. "Now."

"Or what?" She challenged. "You'll kill us? Fuck up your little peckerslap plan, wouldn't it?"

"What are you doing?!" Steppenwulf growled. "Set her loose, Shoresy!"

"Well?" Red growled. "Demands."

"Yeah, see?" She said to Steppenwulf. "He's a businessman, like us. Best girl, remember? It'd be bad form to let your best girl fuckin' die! Step! You walk right over here. Red! You let him. We're leaving, okay? We're done here. We'll tell the Vees what the situation is. Hopefully, that's the end of it. We clear?"

"Turn her loose now," Red growled, any semblance of his former jocularity gone, replaced with a horrifying focus and resolve. "I will consider letting you all live if you free her."

"And here I thought you were a negotiator!" She sneered, pressing the blade against Setty's neck. "You're fast, Red, but can you get here and save her before I install a new grin?"

"You would not survive the attempt."

Shoresy's eyes widened. He was serious. Either he didn't care about the girl or he was actually that fast. Considering how quiet and mean he got when she was threatened, only the latter made sense. There was no way, though, right? She could move her blades faster than bullets! And one was pressed against the girl's throat! What could he do?

…What could he do?

Red's hand shot out, grabbing Steppenwulf by the scruff. With a flick of the wrist he sent him hurtling through the air, landing hard at her feet. "Your dog."

Steppenwulf roared and shot to his feet, only to be dragged backwards by her daggers snagged in his suit. She carefully stepped forward, blade still to the kid's throat. "Pall! Portal! Now!"

"O-on it!" Pall muttered, pulling out his talisman.

"Let her go," Red demanded.

"Nuh-uh," Shoresy grunted, shaking her head as she pulled the kid close. "Not until my team gets out."

"That wasn't the deal," Red growled. "Turn her loose now, or I'll kill you all, slowly, horribly, in every way you fear, record it, and send that to the Vees instead."

"My my, but you do love to talk!" Shoresy said, the portal flaring to life behind her. "You'll get your little dickslit back soon enough, keep your pants on."

Then, something… changed.

Red stood still, almost obediently, but… his eyes. They were set, focused, on her. Shoresy flinched as the air curdled, became heavy and electric, the pungent stench of ozone flooded over her, almost making her gag. His strong, broad-shouldered frame began to glow, his aura lashing up from him in tongues of deep crimson inside a corona of silver-white. Her heart began to race as every nerve screamed in alarm, something deep inside of her screaming at her to run. A slow creep of panic began to gnaw at the edge of her unraveling resolve. She glanced back over her shoulder, a touch of relief filling her as she saw Steppenwulf helping a dazed Stompah to his feet, him and Pall shoving him through the flame-ringed portal, their secondary base visible through it.

Footsteps echoed through the warehouse, sending an icy chill down her spine.

She turned back to see Red Nightmare walking towards them, metal-clad hands squeezing into fists. Her blood ran cold as she glanced back to her team, everyone already through the portal… everyone save for Steppenwulf. He was standing at the mouth of the portal, axes ready, no doubt seized by some bloody-minded heroic fantasy of covering her exit.

'You damn beautiful fool!' She thought to herself, turning back to Red, who was getting very close now. 'What's more important to you, big guy? The product or the message? Time to find–'

'–Out! Wait, what? What was that?'

On the other side of the room was Red Nightmare with the little whore in his arms in a bridal carry, on her face a mask of perplexment neatly mirroring her own. She opened her mouth to question this when something warm and liquid gushed out, splattering on the ground and dribbling down her chin, her tongue coated in something hot and metallic. She looked down at the floor, seeing a splash of red blood. A glint caught her eye, one of her blades was sticking out of her throat.

'What?'

Pain came next, hot and burning like a red-hot poker in her neck, the sound of her own blood and flesh sizzling filled her ears, coming from inside her, steam and blood bubbling out from around the Seraphim Steel dagger lodged in her flesh. Some part of her noted that this was exactly where that succubus' throat would have been an instant earlier. She hobbled around to face her team, Steppenwulf's eyes bulging in shock and horror.

"SHORESY!"

From what felt like a million miles away, she felt her knees give out. The elf-demon collapsed to the floor, blood spilling out in streams.

Puck leapt out and clamped his tiny arms around Steppenwulf's furry, bullish neck. "Step! Step! We gotta get outta here! Get through the–"

Steppenwulf vanished into wisps and was at Shoresy's side an instant later, attempting to scoop her up. "Babe! Babe! Get up! C'mon! I'll get you back, we'll get you patched up! Then we're gonna–"

A single blade levitated in front of him, flipping in the air so that the handle faced him.

"Babe?"

The knife streaked towards him, the handle smashing into his solar plexus and lifting him off his feet, his breath exploded out of his mouth in a grunt. He flew through the air on the handle and toward the portal, flying through it and tumbling across the floor, scattering furniture. Puck stood in front of it, their eyes meeting one last time. Tears welled up in the little imp's eyes and he turned away, scampering through the portal.

"Pall!" She heard him bark. "Close it!"

The portal shimmered and began to close. With the last of her strength she smiled, her head thudding on the concrete.

"Shoresy!" Steppenwulf roared, lunging at the closing gateway. "No! Babe, no!"

Huge green arms clasped around his shoulders and held him back, Stompah having finally regained his senses.

"Let me go!" Steppenwulf bellowed. "You bastard! There's still time!"

"She's gone, Step!" Stompah growled. "We kant 'elp 'er now!"

The portal narrowed, more and more each second, Steppenwulf caught one last look at her before those clawed, metal hands reached through, straining against the flaming borders.

"What the fuck?!" Pall cried.

For an instant he seemed to be actually forcing the portal back open, just enough for them to see Red Nightmare's grinning, vicious face peering through. "Be a goodest boy and pass this along to your bosses: I won't be so gentle next time."

With that, the hands withdrew and the portal snapped shut, sparks sputtering a bit in the air before vanishing.

The room was silent.


Author's Note: How does that old adage go? 'Fuck around and find out'? Yeah, I think these guys just found out.