A/N: Howdy folks. Chapter two. Not much to say, but I hope you guys enjoy. As always, drop a review if you got something to say! Just don't be rude about it please. Any tips would always be helpful. I'm also going to be uploading this onto AO3, so yeah.
Also I'm debating putting a pairing in here, but I'm not really sure. And I've no fucking clue how to put up a poll, so just PM me if you prefer no pairing, or if you want a pairing let me know who.
With that said, enjoy this chapter (or try to at least).
One last thing, I obviously don't own Helltaker, or anything else mentioned in this story. All I own is Oliver. That's it. That's all. Should have mentioned in CH1's AN but whatever.
…...
He bops his head, pulling on his shirt as the sound of The Smiths floods out the rest of the world through his headphones. "I was looking for a job, and then I found a job..." He hums to himself quietly, dropping himself on his bed. It takes a moment, but the old wooden frame finally gives up, and breaks in half as one of the legs falls off simultaneously.
He falls to the ground, his face not of surprise, but one of apathy. "Yeah, coulda' saw that one coming..." He mutters. He stays on the floor unbothered by his current predicament for a couple of minutes, before using his bedside table to lug himself to his feet. He hears a voice call to him from downstairs. "Ollie, dinner!"
'Either face them, or go hungry...' He ponders, before his gut churns. He feels the pit in his stomach, but he isn't sure if it's from hunger, or nerves. With nothing ventured nothing is gained, and so Ollie heads downstairs. He slows his pace as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. All eyes are on him as he emerges from the stairwell. Concerned gazes from Taker and Azazel, and look ambivalence from the others. Well, except for Zdrada and Malina...
Zdrada has a look he can't quite decipher. It's a sharp smile, not unlike a sneer but not entirely full of malice. Malina, on the other hand looks angry. Not a surprise considering they don't seem to get along. At least, from what Ollie's seen so far. There's one seat. Between Taker and Azazel. Closest seat to the stairs.
He's touched by their consideration. Or maybe it's just a coincidence. Either way, he's just glad he won't have to sit next to Zdrada.
Unsettled by their stares, he speaks up.
"Y'all really gotta' stare?" He grouses. They return to their respective meals, for the most part. Zdrada keeps staring with a smirk, and Taker waves him over.
"Come on, don't let it get cold." He says. Ollie walks over to the table hesitantly, but takes his seat once he sees what's for dinner.
"Ohh, shit. How'd you know I like crab?" He asks excitedly, cracking the shell of a leg and sucking it clean. For some reason, this catches Modeus' eye.
"Doesn't everyone like seafood?" Taker wonders.
"Eh-heh, never met anyone with a taste for crab I couldn't trust." Ollie shrugs. He doesn't expect any of them to get the reference, especially not Taker. He never seemed into gaming. If he was, it never came up between them. What does surprise him is that the angry one, Malina, perks up.
"So Oliver, tell us about yourself. I must admit, I didn't know Taker had any family until he mentioned you'd be living with us a few days ago." Lucifer chimes in, dipping a chunk of crab meat into some melted butter. On a fork.
The queen of darkness, indeed.
"What, let you know my weaknesses so you can tempt me and buy my soul?" He laughs, sucking another chunk of crab meat from the shell. "Kidding. Not much to tell. I really just like to keep to myself." He says, wiping his face clean.
"I think she's asking what you do for fun." Taker says, doing his best to encourage Oliver to open up. He groans.
"Nothing. I go to work, play video games, smoke dope and I like guns and camping. That's literally all." He blurts, hesitant to admit his (in his eyes) rather embarrassing hobbies.
"That's all? Boring. Maybe you'll get along with Malinka. She's into that nerd shit too." Zdrada laughs, snapping her fingers in an attempt to light up a cigarette at the table.
"What kind of games do you play?" Malina asks, hopeful to find someone else to play strategy games with.
"Eh, anything really. Mostly shooters and fighting games. Soulslikes. Mostly cause those're what I'm good at." He says as he dips a fat chunk of crab meat into a small cup of hot butter.
"Ugh, of course." She gags.
"Well, what do you play, then?" He retorts. She crosses her arms.
"Turn based-strategies." She mutters harshly.
"Meh," He shrugs. "Fair enough. Only one I ever played was Fire Emblem. Maybe we can play sometime." He utters nonchalantly.
"You know, I must say I'm surprised. After your little altercation earlier, I figured you'd be doing worse than you are right now." Pandemonica mentions.
"That's true. You got over the fact that Demons and Angels were real pretty quickly, kid." Justice agrees, stuffing a glob of what is more butter than crab meat into her mouth like a slob.
He pauses. "Man, I've got a lot going on lately." He shrugs, crushing open a massive crab claw.
"Fair enough." Justice responds, mouth full of crab and butter.
Ollie winces, averting his eyes as he wipes his face clean.
"So uh, just so I know who's who, you're... Modeus right?" He asks, pointing a crab claw towards Modeus.
"Correct."
"Cool. Say, you're the demon of lust, right? So how badly do people get tortured for premarital sex, really?" He asks, half joking.
"They are skinned and dipped in tar repeatedly for eternity." She says, plain;y.
He gulps, and makes a mental note to visit confessional sometime during the week. "Ah-hem. Right, that sounds terrible thanks." He points to Judgement next. "You're umm..." He trails of, trying to remember.
"Judgement. High Prosecutor Judgement." She replies, surprisingly not yelling for once. He realizes this is the first time he's heard her speak. Her voice is strange. Rough and perhaps a bit gravelly. But not so much that it's unpleasant. The opposite actually.
"Ah, right. My bad. So, you're the one who tortures everyone in Hell?" He questions, enthused.
"No, there's far too many souls in Hell for one demon to torture. I hand down the punishments." She elaborates, crushing open a crab barehanded. She makes it look elegant, somehow despite the rather brutal action.
"Mmm. Who else am I missing?" He ponders, stroking his stubble in thought. He slaps the table. "Ah! Shit, Cerberus right? Where are they?" He asks, looking around. "I... don't see them."
"They're in time out." Taker responds simply.
"What for?"
"Mauling the delivery guy."
Ollie sits, staring into space. Then he stands, taking his place with them. "Right. Well with that, I'm gonna' go up, thanks for dinner." He dumps the shells in the trash, putting his plates in the sink. As he makes for the stairs he stops.
"Oh, hey Uncle, my bed frame broke do you guys have a cot or something?" He asks. Taker shakes his head.
"No, sorry. You'll have to put the mattresses on the floor for now. I'll be up to bring some sheets after dinner." He states.
Ollie nods in affirmation, patting Azazel on the shoulder before he leaves.
"Talk later, hm?"
…...
He's 3 quarters through unpacking when he pulls out his gaming console and realizes there's no TV.
"Great." He pinches his nose. "Add that to the list of things to spend my money on."
There's a knock at the door, but seeing as a few hours ago the door was kicked open it merely drifts open. Taker steps in, folded sheets in his hands. "Here." He says, handing the bundle over. "Should keep you warm. The insulation isn't very good up here so these should help." He says settling against the wall.
"Thanks." Ollie mumbles, dropping the cloths on the mattress before rooting through his bag. "Where's the closest place I can get a TV near here?" He questions.
"Gonna' have to go into town. It's not too far, you can borrow the van." He offers.
"Really?"
"Yeah, why not. Just don't crash it." Taker affirms. "By the way, I'm sorry for not giving you a heads up on well... everything."
"Well shit, it's not like I almost died, or anything." Ollie drawls, rolling his eyes. "It's whatever, what's done is done. Not the first time my life's been in jeopardy. Certainly was the closest. And the weirdest." He rambles.
"There's some stuff we're gonna have to go over. I was going to warn you before dinner but you managed to get yourself cut up faster than I thought." Taker jokes. "Seriously though, listen up." He orders.
Knowing better than to ignore his uncle when he's all business, he casts his attention to him.
"I know you just wanted to help, and I'm proud of you. But if there's something like that happening again, just stay out of it. Especially if it's between Malina and Zdrada. Any one of them could kill you before you knew what was happening." He explains.
"Especially Malina and Zdrada?" Oliver repeats.
"Yep. They're sisters. They get into fights all the time. Usually bloody ones." He confirms. Oliver blanches.
"Right. So stay out of it." He summarizes.
"Exactly. If I step in and get hurt, don't worry. It happens all the time." Taker affirms. "Another thing. Most of them have got some kind of baggage. For example, Justice is blind. She won't be mad about it unless you actually mock her for it."
"Makes sense. Justice seems like one of the nicer ones." Ollie nods.
"Then you have Lucifer. Never ask her about Beelzebub. She'll warm up to you. Malina and Zdrada have some problems with each other. Worse than normal 'sibling rivalry' kind of problems." Taker explains further, before getting up close.
"And one last thing. Do NOT piss off Pandemonica. They don't call her the Sadistic Demon for nothing. And under NO circumstances get between her and her coffee."
"Hyyyyeah, okay." Ollie nods, eyes wide. "Thanks for the heads up."
"I should have told you this earlier. It's my fault you got hurt earlier." Taker laments. "At least I can let you know now, before you go getting hurt again." He says, leaning back against the door. "Malina is grateful for you stepping in earlier. She'll never admit it, though."
"Wait, rea- y- really?" Ollie stutters, mouth agape.
"Mhm." Taker nods. "Azazel's taken a shine to you, as well."
"Oh! Are you guys talking about me?" A new voice rings announcing their entry to the conversation. Azazel.
Ollie jumps, but the Taker is unphased. "Hm, Azazel. What's up?" He asks. She looks confused.
"You said you wanted to talk after dinner, did you not?"
"OH, yeah I just meant like, if you wanted to hang with me for a few, -er something." He stutters.
"Of course!" She chirps. Taker stands, walking towards the door.
"That was all I needed to warn you about. I hope the sheets are enough. Let me know if you need anything, or if someone bothers you." He bids adieu.
He closes the door behind him, and Azazel comes closer, placing herself down on the mattress. "So Zaza, what do you do 'round here?" Ollie asks. Azazel lifts an eyebrow, confused.
"Zaza?" She questions. Ollie snorts.
"Just a nickname. I'll just call you Azazel if you want." He yawns, slamming open the window, shivering as he lights the end of the joint he never got to finish earlier. "Let me know if this bothers you. I don't need it that bad, I can wait until you go." He amends.
"It's okay." She nods. "It's just the smell that bothers me." She admits.
"Yeah, used to bother me too..." He scoffs. "Y'get used to it." He trails off, taking another drag. He does his best to direct it out the window this time, though the breeze blows most of it back in.
"So, tell me about yourself?" Azazel asks, sitting crisscross and leaning against the wall.
"Meh. I did at dinner, didn't I?"
"There has to be more to you than that, right?" Azazel questions. "Tell me about you."
He looks at her, ashing out the joint on the sill. "One condition. Tell me about you, sometime." Holding out his pinky.
"Deal!" She promises, seizing his pinky with her own.
"'Kay then." He smiles, throwing the butt out of the window and sitting on his bedside table. "Where to start, where to start... Oh! Okay well, my name's Ollie Wellager, I'm 21, and I'm from the Northeast. New Hampshire. I'm related to my uncle on my dad's side of the family." He looks at Azazel, as if expecting questions.
"I didn't know Mr. Taker had family. None of us did, until recently." Azazel mentions.
"Hrm. Never talked about us, huh? Yeah, I don't really know Uncle all that much, honestly. Only ever seen him on the holidays. 'Sides my dad, he's the only family I really have left..." He trails off once again.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Azazel apologizes. He waves it off.
"Pff, no worries. I mean thanks, but it's fine. Life deals you a hand and you have to play it, no matter how bad. I have more family on my mom's side, but I've never met them." He huffs.
"Why is that?"
"They don't live in America. That and they weren't very fond of my mother. Not that I blame them."
"Where is your mother, exactly? Why do they not like her?" She questions. He gives her a sharp glare, but it fades as fast as it comes.
"She's in Hell, and she belongs there. She was a horrible person." His voice flat.
Azazel looks shocked. "I-I'm sorry, I- you- I had no idea." She clamors to apologize.
"Mm. Don't worry, not like you knew. It's not like anything anyone can change. I'm alive, and I got a life to live. Can't let it ruin me, you know?" He leans his back to the wall, crossing his legs. The small table gives a creak, and he flinches as if he expects it to break. It doesn't, thankfully. "Anyways, I grew up in NH. Some shitty little town that churns out heroin addicts and felons. After my mom died, my dad sent me to live here. I got into a lot of trouble, back home. Guess he'd hoped Uncle could keep my nose clean." He shrugs. "Speaking of, why does everyone call him 'Taker'?" He asks.
"Oh, it's short for Helltaker. They call him that-"
"Because he took demons from Hell for a harem. Gotcha'."
There's a moment of awkward silence as Ollie fumbles through the drawer of the table, looking for something. His eye catches on a small bag containing green herb, and his eyes slit between Azazel and the bag for a few seconds. 'I wonder...' He thinks, before dismissing the thought. He pulls out a grey knit hat and places it on his head, brushing his dirty blonde hair out of his eyes and stuffing it under the cap.
"So," He sighs. "tell me what you think of the others. I wouldn't mind a second opinion. Not that I don't trust Uncle, but he's probably biased considering he's y'know..."
"Well, Ms. Lucifer is okay. Most of them are. Zdrada can be pretty mean, sometimes. Ms. Pandemonica is scary when she's had her coffee." Azazel lists off.
"How about Malina?" He asks. She thinks for a moment.
"Well, I don't have a chance to speak with her often. She is usually in her room drinking and playing video games. We play Heroes 3 sometimes, though. She's nice enough."
"Hmm. I'll have to talk to her tomorrow." He notes to himself. "So, if Uncle went into Hell to find demons, then how did you end up here?"
"I was in Hell studying demons for my research! I'm writing my thesis on demonology!" She proudly exclaims.
"Demonology?"
"Yes, demonology. The study of demons! Their physiology, psychology, etcetera." She rattles off excitedly.
"That sounds all too complicated for me. I can barely do basic math, so I'll leave the demonology to you." He jokes, taking to his feet and cracking his back like a glowstick. "Hey, I'm gonna try and get some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow, maybe?" He offers.
"Please." She agrees, making sure to smoothe out the wrinkles in the sheet before leaving.
With a great sigh, he freefalls to the makeshift bed. Dead asleep before he can pull his sheets over himself.
…...
If Heaven were a place on Earth, it would evidently be his new backyard.
Or- well, no. It would be an isolated shack in the woods with a couple cats, a fireplace, and no possible way for the government to find him.
No, he's not crazy, and no he doesn't trust the government.
All political inner monologues aside, the view from his uncle's backyard is quite nice. Overlooking a beach, house surrounded by tall pines, backyard separated from the rocky cliff face below by a solid fence made of birch
He'd be curious how his mysterious estranged family member could possibly afford this place, but after the whole 'my-uncle-is-banging-satan' revelation he was hit with yesterday, the property value of his new home isn't exactly the most pressing thing on his mind as of late.
His mind is abuzz with more thoughts than he can keep track of, each one leaving as fast as it comes. 'How am I going to survive being surrounded with demons? If I make nice with them does that mean I might be able to convince them to go easy on me in the afterlife? Are they my step-aunts? Where can I get more ganj in this isolated rothole?' chief among them.
He slaps his cheeks, letting the salty sea air wash over him. He'd bask in the chilly, crisp morning breeze if it wasn't for the sound of the back door slamming closed behind him. "Fucking bitch!" The voice hisses. The obviously angry tone, and slight Slavic accent that he knows well... It's Malina.
"So, which one pissed you off? The one that almost killed me?" Oliver jokes, leaning against the fence. She slams down at the picnic table a few feet away, bottle of vodka in hand. In her other hand she rests her head, glaring at him.
"What do you think dipshit?" She seethes through grit teeth.
"That'd be a yes, then. What'd she do?"
"Fucking bitch smashed my entire vodka supply." She scowls, tipping the bottle and letting the liquid burn down her throat. Or it would burn, if she could feel it anymore. "I managed to save this bottle."
"Sheesh, that's rough." He shrugs, popping his shoulders. Then he has an idea. "Well, I'm going to the store later to pick up some stuff I need, if you want to go. We can stop by the liquor store?" He offers.
"...Where else are you going? She asks, eyebrow upturned.
"GameSlop and MallMart, probably. I need a TV, some games, more clothes, shit like that."
She casts her eyes to the table in front of her, before slapping her hand on the table. "Fuck it, I'm in."
"Cool. Stash that bottle away though, I'm not babysitting a drunk demon while I go shopping. I'm gonna go change into something warmer, meet me at the car in like, 15." He says.
The 15 minutes come and go, and they reconvene in front of the Taker's van. Almost more akin to a small bus, really. Clad in a black sweater marred in occult imagery and a black knight, old jeans slathered in long-dried paint and an old pair of canvases, he nods to the sour demon as she approaches. Just like yesterday, she's in the same black and red attire as the other demons wear. Wordlessly, they climb into the van. Well, wordlessly until Ollie begins playing country that is.
"Oh hell no. I am NOT listening to that shit." Malina grumbles, hitting the skip button.
"Yes the hell you are." He asserts, swapping it back. She glares at him, as if trying to gouge holes in him with her gaze alone. "I don't gotta' do everything you say. You're not fucking me, you're fucking my uncle."
"I'm not fucking your uncle, you stupid bastard." She growls.
"You- wuh- wait..." He stutters, fists clenching the wheel in a white-knuckled grip. "I thought you were ALL fucking him."
"Only most of us. I'm not, Cerberus is more of a dog really, and Pandemonica is always too busy or tired to open up her snat-"
"Okay! Okay. TMI bro." He shakes his head. "Anyways, this isn't even the bad kind of country. Just enjoy it."
"There's a good kind of country music?" She snarks.
"What, don't have Johnny Cash in hell? Bad country is all about whining about beer, trucks, and women. Good country is about fucking up and losing everything you love and drinking yourself to death. Stuff like that." He explains, placing his hand back to the volume knob, glancing at her. "I'll tell you what, you give this song a chance and I'll try whatever song you wanna' play?" He offers. She mulls it over, before scoffing.
"Fine." She gives in.
Grin on his face, he turns the song up, hitting the rewind button.
"Well I been thinkin' 'bout the highway again.
I know you're dreaming 'bout that blue flower dress..."
The song fills the car, to mixed results. Oliver bops his head from side to side, humming the lyrics in time with the song. Malina on the other hand looks like Zdrada ashed her Lucky into her vodka.
The song comes to an end after a few minutes of agony. From Malina's perspective, at least. He hands his phone over to her, unlocked.
"Go on, put yours on." He urges her, she looks back and forth between him and the phone. Tentatively, she takes it from him and types something in.
"If you laugh, I'll scalp you with an axe made from your own teeth." She threatens. He snorts, fear thinly veiled behind a veneer of nonchalance. She's probably completely serious, he knows.
It goes like that for the duration of the ride. 23 minutes pass, trading songs back and forth. By the time they reach the store, there's not as much arguing as they started with, instead being replaced by banter. Mostly video game related.
"I can't fuckin' believe you, bitch! You think 4 is better than New Vegas?!" He guffaws, eyes wide in disbelief as he slams the car door shut.
"It is, you fucking idiot! The combat is leagues better and so are the graphics!" She argues angrily.
"Okay first off if you judge a game by graphics, you're a fucking moron, not me. And yeah, maybe the combat is a bit less clunky, but the story and depth of the writing is SO much fucking better!" He decrees. "I'll get you to agree with me SOME goddamn day!" He barks, slipping the car key into his pocket as they enter the store. He freezes the moment they pass the threshold to the massive superstore.
"Hey, Malina-" He drawls.
"What?"
"You ever been here before?"
"A few times." She confirms. "Why?"
"I got no fucking clue where anything I'm looking for is." He admits.
