Blitzo stopped in his tracks outside his apartment building. He hadn't even slowed down once after leaving Stolas' palace, but now that he found himself at his doorstep, he didn't want to go in.

He felt numb. He didn't know whether to scream or cry or laugh—

It didn't really matter, did it?

Stolas had not tried to stop him from absconding, and despite the fact the prince had been crying, Blitzo was sure he wouldn't be missed. He didn't want to let himself dwell on it, or he'd be there forever.

"Get outta the way, jackoff!"

Blitzo was shoved harshly to the side by a tall and beefy demon. The imp found himself on the ground, ass throbbing, looking up at the fucker who'd pushed him. A curled lip was sent his way before the other demon turned and entered the apartment building, letting the door slam behind him.

Blitzo sat there for longer than he needed. He let his heart rate return to normal and his wounded pride recover before he clambered to his feet. He glanced up once again at his apartment building, emotions simmering in his gut. A rush of anger ripped through his insides.

Blitzo turned in the opposite direction and decided to find the nearest bar. He felt like getting in a fight.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

"And stay out!"

Blitzo was unceremoniously thrown onto the dirty street. His ripped coat splayed around his battered body, blood dripped from his chin, and bruises were surely forming along his ribs from the brutal bar brawl he'd just triggered. But to the imp, who was plenty on his way to being absolutely shitfaced, sat up on his elbows and grinned with a bloody mouth at the bouncer and bartender who'd just thrown him into the street. He got another sharp kick to his ribs from the barkeep for the smug look.

That one earned a choked gasp. Fuck. The bastard was no doubt wearing steel toes.

Blitzo staggered to his feet. He'd just gotten the shit beat out of him—he'd also beat the shit out of more than enough poor fuckers in the bar himself—but he honestly felt like he hadn't been this carefree in ages.

Well, maybe that was the meth talking. He'd shot up in the bathroom with some whore. She'd gone down on him as he'd cried with relief at the drugs rushing through his veins, the anguish burning from his mind.

Fuck, he felt good.

Blitzo meandered drunkenly through the city after that, looking for another place to get his rocks off. It was late, so late it was surely getting early, but this was Hell, so no one gave a fuck. He stumbled into the shittiest looking bar he could find and ordered a shot.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Blitzo awoke slowly. His ears were ringing, and his vision was blurred. When he managed to roll over onto his back, he was met with the sight of a straggly crow pecking at a piece of rotting flesh beside his head. Once it noticed he was awake, it screeched a hellish noise and took its meal in its toothed beak and flew away.

Fucking fuck, Blitzo thought as he pushed himself into a sitting position. There was a dumpster to his right and a puddle of dirty water to his left. He'd passed out in some disgusting alley; probably crashing from his high. He fished his phone out of his pocket—the screen now cracked—and checked the time. He had dozens of notifications from Loona, Millie, and Moxxie.

Nothing from Stolas.

Why was he disappointed?

Blitzo dragged himself to his feet using the dumpster as help. His legs did not want to cooperate. Seeing as how it was well into the next day, he realized it was probably time to head back to his place.

His ribs ached as he leaned against the dumpster for support. His head was pounding.

Another alert from his phone. Blitzo knew the tone; it was Loona again. He ignored the call.

He needed to figure out where he was before he could begin the trek home. He was sure he was probably on the opposite side of the city, at least, if the smell was anything to go on.

Blitzo stumbled out into the nearest road, blinking as the Satanic sun really hit his eyes. The ache behind his forehead flared, and he suppressed a hiss of pain.

But yes, he was miles from his apartment. Fuck.

Blitzo checked his pockets in a search for his wallet. It was a surprise he hadn't gotten picked over by a passing demon, but apparently, he'd gotten lucky. He opened his billfold and was disappointed—but not shocked—to see he had no money on him. No money meant no taxi meant he was walking.

The realization dawned on him that he was supposed to be at work. They had had a hunt today, didn't they? Well, fuck, he'd missed it, if they'd even went.

Another fucking thing I fucked up, the bedraggled imp sighed.

Blitzo could just call his team and have them pick him up. They had the van, and they were clearly wondering where he'd vanished to if their messages were any indication. Moxxie would probably have his ass the next day.

But by the piece of shit they call a god, Blitzo did not want to see anyone. Seeing someone meant talking, and talking meant he'd have to explain what the fuck happened and why he was bloody and bruised and hungover on a workday.

Even thinking the bird's name made him nauseous.

Blitzo began the journey back to his apartment. He didn't rush it, his boots barely leaving the ground as he dragged himself down the sidewalk. He kept his head lowered and hands in his pockets.

Fuck, I thought I could do it.

Blitzo's head throbbed.

I thought I could just keep pretending.

He dug his claws into his palms.

And now it's over.

Loona watched as Blitzo slept. He'd always been an angry sleeper, but right now, he looked dead. She would have preferred his tossing and turning to this.

Loona sighed, rested her chin in her palm, and unlocked her phone. She checked her messages.

Fatty: Did he say anything to you?

The Better Half: Is he ok?

Loona responded to Millie and Moxxie, He didn't say much. He broke down and then basically passed out right after. Now he's just sleeping it off.

She frowned as she thought about how she'd held the imp tightly as he'd sobbed incoherently into her arms.

Fatty: Let us know if you need anything. We could come over.

The Better Half: Exactly. I have some homemade hotdish from last night if you'd like that.

Loona: It's fine. I'm sure he'll want to avoid this after he wakes up anyway.

Fatty: I'm sorry, but I'm not going to let him do that.

The Better Half: Moxxie is right. This kind of behavior from Blitzo is strange—stranger than normal. Something must've happened.

Fatty: Has Prince Stolas contacted either you or Blitzo?

Loona glanced up from her phone and over to the sleeping imp on the couch. Her eyebrows pressed upwards in sympathy.

Loona: Pretty sure he had something to do with this.

The Better Half: You don't mean…?

Fatty: You think they broke it off?

Loona: Idk. Maybe. I'm just saying I've never seen Blitz cry like that. And he's stupid but not that stupid.

The Better Half: And when's the last time somethin happened to Blitzo that didn't have Stolas calling to check in?

Fatty: Oh, crumbs. You think we lost the book?

Loona: Idgaf about the book! This is about Blitz! If Stolas did anything to him, I'm gonna rip his stupid head off! ️ ️

Loona tossed her phone to the side angrily. She'd been stewing over the fact that that rich asshole might have had something to do with why Blitzo had gone AWOL for twenty-four hours. Maybe they'd had a fight? Or broken up? Well, they weren't together.

Were they?

Truly, Loona wasn't sure. Blitzo was erratic at best, but typically she didn't mind because she knew she could be just as crazy. That was the nice thing about the imp; they both accepted each other's weirdness and tolerated it.

. . . Mostly.

But Blitzo really didn't share much of his personal feelings, especially about Stolas. Outside of some offhanded remarks or complaining about how suffocating the prince could be, he didn't mention him much. Loona knew they fucked. A lot. And, admittedly, that was about it.

A whimper from the sleeping figure on the couch caught her attention. Loona's head snapped to the side, and her ears swiveled forward in concern.

Blitzo twitched in his sleep, his fingers tightening their hold on the blanket Loona had hastily covered him with. His face contorted in a grimace. A raspy groan tore from his mouth.

Loona watched the imp toss and turn for a moment, unsure if she should wake him.

"Don't," Blitzo whimpered. Loona froze, breathing quiet as she listened for more murmuring.

Blitzo's tail twitched under the blanket as his body shook with tremors. Loona could see beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead.

Suddenly, the imp screamed, howling and desperate. Loona jerked back, startled, and nearly fell off the couch as Blitzo's back arched from it. She dug her claws into the fabric and pulled herself up straighter.

"Whoa, Blitzo!" Loona exclaimed. She knew she needed to wake him up. She reached forward and jostled his shoulder. Blitzo continued to writhe and groan, so caught in his nightmare as he was.

Loona gave him another good shake, this time with both hands on his shoulders. Standing over him, she saw when his eyes snapped open.

Blitzo slammed into a sitting position, nearly head butting his adoptive daughter in the process. The remnants of a cry of a name died on his lips as he saw where he was and who was in front of him. Twin tears slid down his cheeks as his chest heaved.

"Blitzo? Are you . . . well, that's a stupid question," Loona said softly. She kneeled on the floor next to the couch and set a hand on his back.

"L-Loonie? Sorry, I didn't . . ." Blitzo trailed off. He realized his face was wet and quickly turned his head away, embarrassed, to wipe the tears with the back of a dirty hand.

"It's okay. You're good."

Blitzo sighed, "No." His voice was ragged. Loona tilted her head at him inquisitively. He caught the look and shrugged. "I'm not good right now." He curled up, tucking his knees under his chin and hugging his legs.

"Right, yeah. I can see that." Loona sat down on the couch beside him, and they sat there for a long moment in silence. "Did you . . . wanna talk about it?"

"Which part? The one where I disappeared or the one I just woke up from?"

"I mean. Both, preferably." Loona shrugged. "Like, you missed work and didn't even say anything. I thought you got fucking kidnapped again or some shit."

Blitzo made a soft sound of acknowledgment. There was misery written across his face.

Loona refrained from sighing and rolling her eyes; she wasn't good at this kinda shit. But she could tell the imp needed something besides her usual attitude.

"Look, Blitzo, I'm really shitty at this emotional stuff. But something obviously happened to make you act like this, and I . . . am worried about you, ya know," Loona said. She felt herself flushing. "Cuz you are, like, my family. And family looks out for each other, yeah?"

Blitzo blinked wide eyes at her, and Loona almost regretted saying anything at all and nearly bolted right there, but when the next words out of his mouth were, "Thanks, Loonie," some of the tension in her muscles eased.

"It's just. I don't know," Blitzo continued, his scratchy voice just above a whisper. "Had a bad night." He glanced away.

"That much is obvious. Tell me more?"

Blitzo didn't respond immediately. He dug his claws into his legs, arms tightening their hold. His eyes watered.

"It's . . . Stolas," the imp finally managed to croak out, "we broke it off."

Loona's frown deepened. This was what she'd been worried about.

"'Broke it off,'" she repeated back. "Like broke up?"

"We were never dating," he mumbled morosely.

"So, you're just not screwing anymore?"

Blitzo tensed, inhaling sharply. Loona's eyebrows furrowed at the response; he could be incredibly hard to read.

"But you're upset about it, either way," the hellhound said carefully. That earned a slow nod. "Why?"

Blitzo recoiled, looking her up and down. "W-why what?"

Loona merely lifted an eyebrow at him.

"I-I, I . . . we . . . he and I . . ." Blitzo fumbled, his face red and eyes flicking anywhere but Loona's face.

"It's okay; you don't have to tell me everything," Loona finally said after watching him struggle to form a coherent sentence. "I think I get the gist. And then you went on some sort of self-destructive bender last night?"

"Yeah." Blitzo lowered his head in shame.

Loona nodded slowly, getting ready for the next part of her questioning.

"And the nightmare?"

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Blitzo found himself chained to a wall in a dark, musty dungeon. It was cold and reeked of iron. The cuff around his ankle was tight, not allowing for even a sliver of give.

He despised that he recognized this place. He'd spent three days in this shit-hole months before, terrified that he'd end up with a bullet between his eyes or a fate much worse.

He had no weapons. Those had been stripped from him at some point when he'd been unconscious. The only thing he had managed to keep was his backup backup phone he kept strapped to his inner thigh, nearly touching his groin. It had taken days to get a signal the first time.

This time, however, when he woke up in this dark and troubling place, he had nothing. He was wearing his pants, and that was it.

"Somebody? Anybody?" Blitzo called. His voice reverberated with the puddle in the corner, but the rest of the sound was eaten by the darkness.

"Hello?" he yelled again.

A shadow moved in the farthest corner. Yellow scleras suddenly appeared in the dark, glowing as they stared at him intensely. Blitzo felt a shudder of fear run down his spine, and his back spikes rose in response to the threat.

The eyes morphed into a figure, yellow joining with pink to become awfully familiar just as the tall and curvy succubus stepped from the shadows.

"Blitzo," Verosika spat, pronouncing the 'o' as usual. She put her hands on her hips and approached the chained imp, her hips swaying.

"Verosika? What the fuck? Let me go!" Blitzo snarled.

"Oh, I should let you go? Weren't you the asshole who left?"

"Wha-?"

"Really, Blitzo? You act so snide, yet you're the only common denominator in every relationship you manage to fuck up."

"I guess I have a thing for fucking whores." Blitzo curled his lip at her.

"Ooh, just like Stolas? A whore? The guy who you pay in dick every month just to keep that book?" Verosika grinned, all glinting fangs, her eyes piercing.

"How do you-?"

The succubus scoffed before flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Maybe you should look in the mirror before you go around calling everyone else a whore, you little fuck. That drugged up hooker you let suck you off last night wasn't the one who started it."

Blitzo's head was spinning.

"You like being used, don't you?" Verosika asked as she bent down, just out of Blitzo's reach. "You like when others take what they want. You want to be used." She let her large breasts bob in his vision without a semblance of shame. "But you also like using. You always start it, Blitzo."

"I . . ." was all the imp could get out. He was lost for words, hypnotized by her swaying cleavage and poisonous vitriol.

"You used your family." Verosika suddenly whipped out a leg and drove her sharp heel into Blitzo's bare chest, knocking him onto his back. She stepped on his ribs.

There were suddenly chains around Blitzo's wrists, shackling him to the grimy floor and leaving him unable to fight back.

"You used me." The heel of her knee-length boot dug into his flesh. "You use your so-called 'friends." She pressed harder and drew blood and a hiss of pain from the shackled imp.

"And you used that poor prince." Verosika's heel crunched into bone as the pressure snapped. Blitzo groaned and cried out, his teeth grinding together.

"And now," she continued, "you have no one. Everything you touch, you ruin, sweetheart. How does it feel?"

"I don't know," Blitzo choked. He was pressing himself into the floor in a futile attempt to escape the heel carving into his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, no longer wanting to look into Verosika's cold glare.

The pain in his ribs ceased. Blitzo twitched, surprised by the sudden relief, and cracked an eye open. No longer was there a vengeful succubus leering over him, but four red eyes and a more welcoming figure.

"Blitzy, are you okay?" Stolas asked.

"Stolas?" the imp breathed as he began calming down.

"Yes, it's me. I'm here."

Blitzo could have cried. He pushed himself up on his elbows and gazed with wide eyes at the owl crouched in front of him.

"How did you find me?" Blitzo asked.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Huh?"

Stolas stood, his legs seeming to be twice as long as Blitzo remembered. The prince towered over him so far that Blitzo couldn't see his face, only his glowing red eyes from the depths of the shadows. A feeling of dread crept back into his mind and made his skin crawl.

"You brought us here," Stolas said. There was no longer the kind and lilting voice he once had, the words reminiscent instead of wind howling through dead tree branches. One spindly arm pointed its accusatory talon at Blitzo.

"W-what?" the imp stammered. He was cowering again.

"You are such a selfish little beast, aren't you? Disgusting." The world around them began to blur into pitch.

"I-I'm not! Please! Don't do this!" Blitzo couldn't help the pleading as he frantically scooted away from the prince. He hit the wall and could go no further.

Only the prison floor beneath the two demons remained. The rest was a giant black hole of nothingness.

"I'm done with you, Blitzo," Stolas said in that frightening tone.

"I'm sorry," Blitzo whimpered. "I-I thought I did what you wanted!"

"You did nothing, you unlovable vermin."

The blackness crept nearer.

"Don't!" Blitzo sobbed. He trembled under the power of the darkness. Stolas' eyes flashed, and then the floor beneath Blitzo was gone. He screamed as he plummeted into the vast nothingness. He could see the light of Stolas' eyes as he watched the imp descend.

Soon, there was nothing.