Hellwalkers
Chapter 22: Painful Truth
A few hours earlier...
Wrathian Hellbeasts, as their name implies, are native to the ring of Wrath. These highly social animals are very territorial and have been known to attack hunters and loggers who go too deep into the forests they inhabit. Their scaly hides are so thick that regular bullets or blades cannot wound them. They must be taken down with angelic weaponry.
In recent years, their numbers have dwindled over habitat destruction, illegal hunting, or trafficking. Some mobster gangs in Greed are known to employ these creatures as guardian dogs despite the hellbeasts' classification as XXXXX, extraordinarily aggressive and unfit for domestication.
Octavia pushed the book aside, huffing. Not this one, either.
So far, her search hadn't bore too many fruits. She found many books about hellbeasts but few mentions of Hellwalkers— let alone what kind of magic they use or how it works—that weren't just folktales and legends.
She did, however, find some interesting sources of info in the form of old newspaper clippings from a few years back.
ALBINO HELLBEASTS SIGHTED IN THE FORESTS NEAR LAMIAN IN THE WRATH RING
JANE BRISONT PRESUMED DEAD AFTER HELLBEAST ATTACK DURING HER ENGAGEMENT PARTY
HELLBEAST ATTACKS ON LIVESTOCK INCREASE.
ARE HELLBEASTS BECOMING SMARTER? HUNTERS' GUILD PERPLEXED
These clippings might look just random notes meant to sell more newspapers, but when put together, and knowing what she now knows, they painted a very different picture: it's a clear sign of Hellwalker presence in an area. Brash told her that they've been around Lamian for a few decades now... his family, at least.
Octavia checked her phone. 23:38. Man, time flies when you're focused. Her parents must be asleep now. It's time to see Brash.
Before leaving the library, she grabbed one of the photography books. She had promised the Hellwalker she'd show him one.
As usual, Brash was pacing around inside the cage. At times, though, he seemed trying to peek his head out of the cage to look at the window toward the forest. Sadly, his snout was too big for that.
"Hey."
"Hey." Brash finally gave up and lay down on the cage. "Did ye find anythin' useful?"
Octavia sat down with a huff. "Nothing other than folktales and the sorts. Oh, and a few newspaper clippings from a few years back."
"I told ya, girl. Ye won't find anythin' about Hellwalker magic in those 'books.' No one's ever bothered to learn about our way of life, and the few who did have to abandon their own to assimilate into our people fully."
"Your people have never considered writing things down? It's more reliable than just passing it down orally."
"Writing is a town Imp concept, girl. Stories are alive; paper is dead. As simple as that. Besides, a book wouldn't last a day in a den full of hellbeasts." Brash chuckled.
Octavia laughed. "I guess that's where 'the hellbeast ate my homework' thing came from."
"Homework?"
"It's schoolwork that you do at home to reinforce what you learned at school. Before you ask, a school is where you learn with other kids."
"Hey, I'm not that ignorant, girl. We just have a different name for it." Brash said, offended. "We call it ciorc' foghlam. All children above seven years old in the tribe would gather around a fire, where an elder would teach them magic and how to better communicate with hellbeasts."
"Wow. It does sound like school, except we don't learn magic. You're taught how to read, write, mathematics, history, and that sort of stuff... I suppose. I never went to school."
"Ye didn't go to school?" Brash lay his head on his paws. "I find that hard to believe for a blueblood."
Octavia hugged her legs. "Public schools are meant for 'the riffraff and plebians.' Instead, we learn through private tutors approved by the Goetia family. We're not taught the same things either. From a young age, I was taught languages, etiquette, history, magic, and lots of higher-class stuff. All the skills necessary for a 'respectable young lady.'"
"Ye don't seem too happy about it." If possible, Octavia seemed to shrink even further.
"I hate it. It feels like my life has already been planned out for me. I don't doubt that my grandfather has even chosen a suitor for me. Someone I've never even met before, and yet to whom I'm expected to get married to and produce an 'heir' with, just like my parents did before me." Octavia's voice grew fainter and more bitter as she rambled on. "Makes me wish sometimes that I wasn't a princess. Growing up on a farm and herding cattle sounds more fulfilling than this."
Brash gave his companion a somewhat... sympathetic look. Honestly, he never imagined that being a blueblood was such a load of hellbeast shit. Up to now, he conceived the bluebloods lounging around their fancy castles and enjoying their privileged lifestyles at the expense of the lower classes.
Jane once said something akin to this. It was a town imp idiom of sorts; how did it go...? Don't judge a book by its cover.
Speaking of books, he noticed one tucked next to Octavia. "What do ye got there?"
"Oh, right." the teen grabbed the tome. "You said you've never been out of Wrath, so I figured I'd show you the rest of the rings."
His ears pointed forward as his companion shifted so her back faced the cage. The wide, rectangular-shaped book was visible from her legs. Unlike the other books she'd brought before, this one didn't have words but... images. Some pages depicted towns that ran as far as the eye could see, with tall buildings that seemed to touch the different-colored skies. Other pages showed the many demons inhabiting the rest of the rings: sharks, snakes, birds, bugs, and countless shapes.
He was surprised to learn that, other than a few crucial but subtle differences—such as their inability to reproduce—some coigrich could pass off as hellborns regarding looks. However, they were confined to Pride, the highest ring of Hell.
He wasn't sure, but someone snapped a picture of the aghaid soilleir in the middle of their annual carnage. Brash's mane bristled at the sight of the cold, sadistic expression on their glowing faces as they massacred whoever they had in sight.
"You've never seen them before?" Octavia asked curiously.
"Not that close as the poor bastard who managed to take that photo." Brash chuckled humorlessly. "Mother would tell us stories of them when we were kids. She'd say that the aghaid soilleir would come and eat us if we misbehaved."
The owl demon laughed. "No way, that's what my uncle Andrealphus would tell me when I was a girl."
"In any case, those bastards rarely show up around these parts. I guess they'd rather target more populated areas. Just to be safe, we'd hide away in our den for the duration of the cleanse. Where do ye bluebloods hide for the cleanse?"
"Most members of the Goetia family gather in one of my grandfather's castles and use magic to seal the castle from the inside so no one will be able to get in." Octavia ran a hand through her head. "Not me and Daddy, though. While Mom went to Grandpa's castle, Dad and I would go to the living world with his grimoire. He'd show me the constellations or take me to amusement parks."
Brash lay his head on his paws. "A grimoire? Is it some type of book?"
"Yeah. Dad uses it for his duties. Did you ever see the blood moon in the sky? My dad opened a portal to the living world with his grimoire. It has many cool spells you won't find in normal magic books..."
Octavia trailed off at her own words. Spells you won't find in regular magic books...
The grimoire! Whatever magic her father had used to keep her Hellwalker transformation at bay could be in there.
"Let me see if I got this right. The Hellwalkers from the little impling's stories are real; you got bitten by one, and now you become a hellbeast when you sleep. You've been sneaking out of town to see them because you were worried about Jane's condition, and Millie has no idea of any of this."
Moxxie blinked. Loona had... gotten it right, somehow. If hellhounds spoke hellbeast language or if she just made a very lucky guess, he didn't know.
Loona eyed his hellbeast form. "Man, you've been quite busy, haven't you? Here I thought you spent all day locked inside your house doing housewife stuff or something."
Moxxie snorted in annoyance. Looks like jerkish Loona is back. "Loona, listen..."
"Let me guess: you want me to keep this incident a secret, right?" Moxxie's eyes widened, ears pointing forward. Loona smirked. "What? I think it's evident that these people don't want to be found; otherwise, they would have taken Jane to the hospital or something. Don't worry; the secret is safe with me." Loona got to her feet. "Well, I think they've had enough time to enjoy their new baby. I need to do a check-up to ensure nothing's amiss with the mother or the baby."
With that, Loona walked back towards the inner cave, leaving Moxxie alone with his thoughts.
He saw the mother hellbeast asleep with her cubs a few feet away. The little ones were curled up on top of one another, snuggled into their mother's mane. Moxxie smiled a bit at the sight.
He was glad everything turned out alright, considering they were in a cave without access to anesthesia, medicines, or proper equipment to deliver a child. Heck, even home births were more suitable than this...
Then why...? What did we do wrong? What did I do wrong...?
His eyes stung. Moxxie hurried out of the den and stopped right next to the pond. The song of the crickets and the night music did little to comfort him as the memories returned. He curled next to the pond, staring at his reflection in the clear waters.
Moxxie's ears twitched at the echo of footsteps.
"Hey." he heard Striker say.
The Hellwalker sat down next to him. Moxxie noticed he wasn't using his furry cape anymore. He probably left it with Jane to keep the baby warm.
"H-Hey..." Moxxie looked away, embarrassed. He really's not in the mood for Striker making fun of him for crying. "How's Amelia?"
"The Hellhound is doin' a check-up on her. Somethin' about makin' sure she's healthy and all that."
"You can't blame Loona for being cautious. Jane gave birth in a cave that harbors hellbeasts. The baby might catch many germs and viruses, especially if she's a preemie."
"A what?"
"Premature. She was born before full term, didn't she? That means she'll be more vulnerable to... health problems."
"Ye seem to know a lot about it, little fella..." Striker shifted closer to Moxxie, who, up to then, kept his face out of view. He could guess why. "...Wanna talk about it?"
Moxxie didn't want to. He really didn't. But the least he can do is give Striker an explanation of why he'd been so worried about Jane.
"...Millie and I wanted a big family. It's quite common for Wrathian couples to have lots of children, you know. The first time we got pregnant... Well, you know what it feels like. We were so happy, and I... I couldn't wait for the baby to come..." Moxxie went utterly stiff, ears flattening against his head. "T-Then one morning..."
Moxxie would never forget it. How he'd woken up to bloodied sheets and screams of pain. How he's rushed his wife to the hospital. How he'd been made to wait for hours until a nurse called him into the office to hear the horrible news.
I'm sorry to inform you that your wife had a miscarriage.
"No matter how many times we tried, all the children we had..." Moxxie sniffled—which, in hellbeast form, sounded more like a sad snort. "Eventually, we just... stopped trying. Postponing it, we claimed, but... We were afraid of losing another child..."
Striker stared at his fellow Hellwalker with a thoughtful expression.
"...Is that why you've been so worried about Jane?"
"What can I say? The idea that she lives in the forest, away from medical help, if anything goes wrong with... And she's been so nice to me..." Moxxie's mane bristled. "I guess... I didn't want her to endure the same pain as Millie. I didn't want you to go through the pain of losing a child before it's even born. That's something no one should go through..."
Neither spoke for some time. The waterfall and the nightly cacophony of sounds were the only things that broke the tense silence. Finally, Striker ran a hand through his hair.
"Thank you, townie. I'm sorry if I got a little suspicious of your intentions."
"It's okay. I'd feel the same if I saw someone acting too friendly with Millie for no apparent reason." Moxxie chuckled humorlessly. Her family... They've never said it to my face, but... I can tell they blame me for our inability to have a full-term pregnancy."
"That's bullshit," Striker said.
"I know, right?" Moxxie chuckled bitterly. "They never liked me for being a 'city gal,' but it got worse with time..."
"If they hate ye that much, why come to Wrath? Ye could have stayed in Imp City or wherever ye came from."
"Millie needed emotional support after so many... losses. I figured it'd be best if we were closer to her family."
"But how about ya? Don't take it wrong, but it sounds like ye are the only one who's made sacrifices so far. What sacrifices has yer wife done for your sake?"
"Hey, for your information, Millie went against her family's wishes when she married me."
Striker raised an eyebrow. "And that's it?"
"Of course not! She also..." Moxxie paused. He scrapped through his brain but could think of nothing else Millie had sacrificed for him. He's probably tired from all of this ordeal and can't remember it clearly. Yeah, that must be it.
Thankfully, Jake's timely arrival distracted Striker from further questioning. Loona wished to have a word with him, it seemed.
Striker followed his son back into the main cave, with Moxxie joining them shortly after. Much to his chagrin, Loona was casually seated on the stone throne. He bit his tongue back to avoid snapping at the Hellhound who saved his wife and child. Instead, he took a deep breath to calm himself down.
"How are Jane and Amelia?" he asked instead.
"They're both alright, but Jane will need plenty of rest. Plus, she'll need to wear a girdle for a month..." Loona noticed the blank look on Striker's face. "Let me guess: you don't know what a girdle is."
"Is it a snack?" Jake inquired, to which Loona rolled her eyes.
"It's an undergarment that encircles the torso and lower hips. Your mommy will need one, so her organs will return into place after harboring a kid inside her belly. Besides, it should help her with the pain and blood flow and let her move around more freely."
Striker rattled his tail. Damn it, he felt like a little kid being explained the rain process.
"And do ye have a... girdle she could use?" he murmured.
"I'm a nurse, not a supermodel."
"Besides, it's not that easy. Every woman has a different body type, and they must find a girdle they feel comfortable wearing, especially if they've just given birth." Moxxie added.
"As for the baby..." Loona paused. "Perhaps you should consider taking her to the actual doctor."
"Why? Ye just said Amelia's okay."
"As I said, I'm no doctor, just a nurse. That child needs to be checked by a neonatal pediatrician who'll tell you what specific care she'll need to make it to her first year of life."
Striker clenched his fists, tail rattling. Great, the last thing he wanted was to take his family near the town, and now he's told he has to do precisely that.
Besides, there's another issue.
"It ain't gonna be cheap, will it?"
"Oh, so you do know what money is. Great, that'll save me the explanation..." Jake was about to say something. Moxxie tapped his shoulder with a claw and shook his head. Now's not the time. "But yes. Caring for a premature baby tends to be more expensive because of all the extra care."
"I can lend you the money..."
"Out of the question, vermin. I don't particularly appreciate bein' indebted. Plus, I'm sure yer wife ought to notice that ye're spendin' what little cash ye have." Striker pointed out.
Cash... Wait, that word was in the flyer for the Harvest Moon Festival?
"Jake, do ye still have that slip of paper?"
"The flyer with the red moon? Yeah, I think it left it just about here... Ah, here it is!" The impling grabbed the flyer, but one of the cubs got a hold of it with his teeth. "Hey, no! Let go!" Jake tried to pull the flyer out of the cub's jaws, but the critter seemed to think it was a game and pulled back.
The mutual scuffle led to the flyer tearing in half.
Striker murmured under his breath and approached the perpetrator. He ran a hand down the cub's jawline and neck, making it open its mouth, then quickly grabbed the other half of the pamphlet.
"Hey, vermin, what does this say?" Moxxie squinted his eyes as Striker showed him the wet, wrinkled piece of paper.
"This year, with sponsorship from Prince Stolas himself, the prize for first place in the Pain Games will be $2000 souls."
"Is that money?"
"Yeah, and a LOT of it. With two thousand souls, you can get a decent place to live, or in this case, pay up for your kid's medicine and treatment." Loona explained
Striker sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, kiddo, we might be attending the Town Imp festival after all."
...
After saying goodbye to Striker for the time being, Moxxie took Loona back to the lodge. It would be morning soon, and he needed to return to his body before the townsfolk awoke. Or rather, before Millie awoke.
Loona removed the blindfold from her eyes before getting off Moxxie's back, tail swishing behind her. She twitched her ears for signs of nearby people or Goetia soldiers in the walls.
"You're lucky. There don't seem to be any guards on patrol just yet," she told the freckled hellbeast.
Moxxie raised his ears and took a deep sniff. Indeed, he couldn't hear metallic footsteps or early morning bustle just yet. He still has a chance to get inside unseen.
"Still, you should be careful. You know what will happen if anyone sees you in that form." Loona warned. Moxxie's ears twitched. Was that concern in her voice? "Well, I'm going back to bed. We can talk about this later when you can actually speak." Moxxie snorted in agreement. He didn't feel comfortable like this either.
The freckled hellbeast warily made his way toward the city walls. Through his nose and ears, he searched for the area with the least activity to climb the wall. Once he was back inside, Moxxie opted to get down on the ground and make his way home. Jumping from roof to roof was far noisier, plus there was the risk of the tiles giving away from his weight and sending him down, just like the previous night.
Moxxie relied more on his ears and the ground's vibrations to avoid the few patrolling Goetia soldiers. As Striker had warned, scents inside Lamian were considerably weaker, overwhelmed by the 'town stench.' An unpleasant shiver bristled his mane. To think they live in such... uncleanliness without even knowing it.
At last, Moxxie snorted in relief as he arrived at his neighborhood. Good. Now all he has to do is find a way into the rooftops and—
"I got you, fucker!" Moxxie barely had time to react when a dark, gunpowder-scented Imp appeared in his path.
The sound of a pistol going off made Moxxie jump in a twirl, narrowly catching a glimpse of the bullet as it whizzed beneath him.
"Shit!"
Right in front of him was Blitzo. But this time, there was no trace of alcohol in him.
Moxxie knew he only had a few seconds before Blitzo reloaded his gun. He quickly looked around for any pathway into the rooftops. There was a nearby pile of crates he could use, and hopefully, it'd distract Blitzo long enough for Moxxie to get home.
Moxxie ran towards his improvised escape route and started climbing just as Blitzo began the next round of bullets.
PAM!
Moxxie shrieked in pain, his shoulder burning.
Blitzo laughed triumphantly. "Take that, you pussy beast!"
Despite the familiar stinging of a bullet lodged inside his body, Moxxie impulsed himself to the top of the pile and leaped to the nearest roof, bringing the crates down. Blitzo yelled and cursed as they avalanched right on top of him.
"Sorry, Blitz."
Moxxie's ears twitched. He heard whispers and hushed voices from the surrounding homes. The commotion must have awoken the owners. He must hurry.
His shoulder ached as he moved swiftly through the remaining roofs until he was back at his window. His body was still there, and Millie was still asleep. Moxxie snorted in relief as he quietly stepped into the bedroom—at least until he noticed the blood in his pajamas, right in the shoulder where the bullet had struck him.
Moxxie's hellbeast form vanished into his Imp body.
The thespian awoke, but he barely bit back a cry of pain. He winced as his hand pressed against the now-bulletless hole in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. He better treat this fast. Moxxie hurriedly but quietly went to search the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Okay, first, he must stop the bleeding and clean the wound. Then he'd slip to the hospital to get it properly tended to.
Some medicines were knocked out of the cabinet in his hurry to grab the gauze. Moxxie cursed through grit teeth. After pressing the gauze against his shoulder, he bent down to pick up the plastic vials. He was still in the middle of said task when one of the jars caught his eye. What is this...?
...Contraceptives? Why do they have this? He didn't recall purchasing them on his last trip to the pharmacy.
"Mox?"
Moxxie yelped and fell on his rear, dropping the now-bloodied gauze in his fright. Millie gasped. There was concern on her face as she knelt beside him and checked on his wound.
"Moxxie, are you okay?! What happened to you?!"
Moxxie swore his heart would burst out of his chest at any minute now. "W-Well, I..."
Thump!
"Mox! Mills!"
Moxxie barely held back a sigh of relief as Blitzo's voice distracted Millie, if only for a few seconds. She helped him to his feet and back to their bedroom, where Blitzo seemed to be looking for something through the open window.
"Blitz? What are you doing here?"
"No time to explain, Mills! Did you see a red hellbeast around here?" Moxxie swallowed hard.
"A what?"
"A hellbeast! It was running around town a few minutes ago! I managed to wound it, but it escaped into the rooftops!" Blitzo groaned, finally giving up on his search. "Where the fuck did it go?! It couldn't have vanished into thin—holy motherfucker, what happened to Moxxie?!"
"I don't know! I found him in the bathroom like this!" Millie helped Moxxie sit on the bed while Blitzo fetched more gauze. "Mox, what happened?"
Shit, he better think of something fast.
"I-I was..." Moxxie saw the bloodied bullet on the ground. "I was opening the window for some fresh air..." he winced as Blitzo pressed another gauze on the wound. "Before I knew it, I was on the ground with a bullet in my shoulder... I-I took it out, but..."
Millie and Blitzo spotted said bullet on the ground in a pool of black blood. The latter's face fell.
"Oh, shit. I was trying to shoot the hellbeast when it climbed unto the rooftops. One of the shots must have ended up in your shoulder." he cursed, slapping his forehead. "I'm sorry, Mox."
Moxxie exhaled in relief. "I-It's okay, Blitz. Just... Don't go around shooting random hellbeasts in here."
"Blitz, are you sure it was a hellbeast?"
"Millie, I think I'd know a hellbeast when I see one. We've been hunting them for years now!" Blitzo took a few deep breaths to calm down. "We can talk about it later. We should take Mox here to the hospital before he passes out."
For once, Moxxie agreed with Blitzo.
