Chapter 10: No Sleep Till Brooklyn
There were many times in a life where a motherfucker wishes they could. However, often their wishes were crushed by the authority of those above them. For Erosa, the other day was the day a motherfucker wished and won, and he lost. As the black cat checked his revolver, he knew today would be the day that another motherfucker would not be wishing anymore, but rather doing, and his name was on this particular shooting star.
"I still can't believe you got that cursed thing." Polter raised in a tone of distaste, brushing over scratches against their own custom revolver. "I'd figure at least something more manageable for your twink body."
"It's not about the size, hun. It's about efficiency." Erosa smiled, leaving his partner a wink.
Polter blushed while frowning. "Fair enough, but you could have at least asked me first. Or just gotten literally anything else. Or just not brought any gun for a simple scare tactic on a store that'll be closed. A Barenekkid brand Gator Bitch revolver is absolutely ridiculous and absurd."
"I'm aware, my wonderfully insightful snake. I intend to make this compensating, garish son of a motherless goat the most feared silver streak in all of Hell!"
"Silver streak?" Polter raised an eyebrow. "That the name?"
The black cat pondered before smiling and suddenly extending a claw. The scratch on the dull silver surface of the firearm gave Polter a sensation of regret and caused the snake to flinch. Erosa, in contrast, grinned almost ear to ear and holstered the gun after applying the safety.
"Nah." Erosa said. "It's Catscratch."
"Fucking what?" The snake asked in a berating tone. "No, you cannot go into battle with that shit. Sounds like one of those human TV shows that they force the little shits to watch."
"Yeah? And an even bigger fucking revolver that shoots whole ass rifle bullets named Serpentinuum isn't some edgelord shit?"
"You've been talking to the boss too much." Polter restored.
The two were silenced by the sounds of a bell. The screens around them showed the store owner now locking up for the evening. A perfect opportunity to strike and allow a wish to manifest itself through Erosa brandishing their new compensation. They quickly left their van across the street and down the alleyway of burgundy brick with the burning of the heat now beginning to melt the snow. It was the last job before the purge, a simple robbery near the most neglected side of Pride.
The two mercenaries leaned against the side of the outside wall as to assure their surroundings. Not a soul in sight, Polter smiled and suddenly reached around. The shopkeeper had left finally, and they were free to commence their dirty deeds not done for cheap.
"What if a fuck is still in there?" Erosa asked.
Polter scoffed. "You're the one with the massive penis in your hands, dear. You figure it out."
Erosa rolled his eyes and peeked, caressing the corner to see the blackened interior. With the affirmation, Polter reached over and smashed the front window of the shop. A sharp spiderweb rang, and hundreds of gleaming magenta lights spilled throughout the store room. The black cat swore at his large wife for such destruction of property without using his new gun, and his wife reminded him that they were there to only send a message. That message was: "Fuck up shit."
Rows of convenient snacks and beverages were left alone, only behind the counter received interest from the duo, who quietly snuck around the shadows projected by the large, garish hole of sharp glass where a window used to be. Not a single witness was in sight, or was busy fortifying their home for the upcoming event where blood would rain down and pour into the exposed store of their victim. Erosa smiled as he gestured to his wife, the latter grabbing the entire safe and tossing it into the street with extreme force and digging the mess of a square metal box into the asphalt. It would remain there as the dial was forcefully torn; The door followed and all of the money, as well as a rather crude zip gun seemingly made out of cheap metal pipes. Polter garnered interesting in the firearm and carried it alongside the rest of the money from the safe, quickly outrunning the alarm. Erosa gave the ground near the safe a few shots which almost dislocated his arm before jumping into their van and speeding away. A rather angry looking silhouette appeared to be running in their direction from the rearview mirror as Polter drove.
"Take It that's the pegged bear himself." Erosa said as he inspected the zip gun handed to him. Well-crafted on the surface and rather heavy from the steel welds to form the body. The shopkeeper must have been swole to handle such a chonk.
"That guy must have been swole to handle such a a chonk." Erosa said.
"What?" Polter asked.
"The gun is fucking heavy. You can't even -"
"No, no." The snake wavered. "The other thing. Pegging bears?"
Erosa frowned. "Yeah? My folks in Appalachia used to say it all the time."
"The fucking human place?"
"No, hun. The club in Wrath. I don't give a single farmer fuck about humans. Skunks, the lot of them, ruining the views of all the nice condos."
"My godmother was human." Polter sneered. "You know that. She's definitely not a skunk. You are what you call others, are you not, Erosa?"
The cat smiled. "That's very insightful of you, and that's why I love you, my dear."
The van turned further up into the suburban neighborhoods of the older sinners. Even among the more well off population was neglect and abrasive division: Neighbors were only interested in the hours of others so they know when to be at the window with the rifle five minutes before. It was the perfect community to not get lost in, but more importantly to hide in and not ask questions. The duo parked in the farther end of the dead end street, throwing the van in park before heading up to the porch. The door was unlocked, as they were told, and they double checked the address before entering.
The scent of obsessively cleaned carpet and scrubbed floors flooded the visions of the two mercenaries. Old classical instrumentals broadcasted over a single radio in the corner of the living room. At the end, the kitchen merged into a hallway where the residents occupied the space. The duo walked around the space and remained sitting in the living room before Erosa's phone rang. The unknown call was immediately answered.
"Fucking yes?" Erosa greeted the recipient.
"Hello to you, too." A scruff voice boomed on the other end. "Apologies for not arriving to our… get-together. Something important came up."
"Need us to do anything about it, boss?" Polter chimed in, continuing to observe the zip gun that unconsciously followed them into the house through her hands. She absentmindedly turned it around- The scratches of the finish spelled unknown characters: S.McD.
"Your eagerness is greatly appreciated, Miss Poltergeist, but I'm afraid it's only something that a…. Weaver of Dreams can handle."
"Sounds fancy and ordinary enough for you to have been here." Erosa added begrudgingly. He could feel his boss frown on the other end.
"Again, apologies Mister Erosa." The voice said. I'm sure Sivah will keep you company until I arrive. He's become rather fond of you two, so much so that you're welcome to spell his name without the accents if you wish."
"That's… actually high praise. Thanks, but Sivah isn't here. Must not have been as interested in you as you thought."
"Ooh." Polter said in excitement. "I've never met Sivah. Erosa says he's cool and scary. I don't think I've ever met an owl before either."
"He ain't one of them, hun." Erosa corrected. "He's one of us, more barn owl than castle owl. Like that one blue eyed fuck we saw fornicating with… wait is that who the fucking ghost was?!"
"You'll be a ghost in a minute if you don't want to be trapped up here with the rest of the sinner's." A sophisticated voice announced from behind the duo. A tan owl approached, donning a casual attire and standing a similar height to the wife of his vocal naysayer. The demon sat opposite of the mercenaries. " My partner was correct about my praise, but I was expecting to meet his greatest employees. Not the cat and the mouse."
"It's a hat, ain't it?" Erosa asked. "Pretty fucking stupid question, Goldie."
"Goldie?" Sivah raised an avian eyebrow.
"It's his general insult for people, dear." The boss answered. "Would you kindly remove me from speaker for a moment, Mister Erosa?"
The cat did as told, and the harsh yet informative tone of their boss manifested.
"I appreciate your usual bantering and… creative language towards my Sival, but, my feline friend, you are in his territory now and he has not been appreciative of your recent… aggressive tactics like I have not minded."
Erosa's eyes shifted. Sivah was smiling and returning the glare with his yellow eyes and red pupils. The owl knew his bitch was taking care of business.
"I say this respectfully." The boss added. "The praise my partner gave was true, but my claim just now was more of a... nicety. I want to see you with me towards the end of time, and my partner is less… willing for that to occur. Please return me to speaker phone and keep in mind that I give my owl lots of freedom as my second. Thank you."
Quietly, and slowly turning away from Siva, the cat, now having his tail tucked close to his body, did as told and rested the phone on the table, with Siva's neutral disinterested expression returned.
"As you all know, the yearly purge is a few days away." The voice said. "As such, I'll ask that my Mister and Misses Mercenaries take their place at home. The exorcists are no joke."
"Indeed." Sivah added as he looked to the phone. "Especially not for feline mercenaries who fall short of their quota."
"It wasn't their fault, my dear." The voice answered.
"Roselle, you and I know exactly how much shit to tolerate and this is over the limit by a Ring's width."
"Even so, they're the most reliable we have. Remember Grugo?"
Sivah shuddered. "Unfortunately."
Roselle laughed. "Nonetheless, it's too late to choose again with the end of the year this close. I simply wished to provide you, Mister Erosa, and your wife an opportunity for one last assignment - A very easy and simple one that can be done without even leaving the house."
"No." Sivah said immediately. "They are not staying here."
"Not my intentions, my dear." Roselle assured his partner. "It's an opinionated question. An easy one: Is there a single person which you wish to be rewarded for killing? It could be anyone, from the smallest inconvenience to the largest enemy you think you can fight. Tell me their name, and it will be your first assignment after the purge."
"The fornicators." Erosa added. "Greg got killed last week by Hunk, who I killed after Stung. Can't think of anyone else brave enough to be alive after getting on my bad side."
"What about Grugo?" Polter asked, receiving a grimace from both owl and cat in the room. Their unanimous looks silenced the rest of the conversation.
"Who might the fornicators be, Mister Erosa?" Sivah himself requested.
"Never got their names." Erosa admitted solemnly. "Only know one of them is an imp and the other looks like uh… lizard owl? Bird iguana? Horse Pigeon? No, the first one. I dunno, blue eyed and all dull white like the brightness of my ex's phone flash when she should just use the fucking flashlight in the drawer."
"Bring me their heads after the purge." Roselle boomed a final time, only this time it was behind the ground, sending Erosa and Polter jumping out of their seats slightly as Roselle approached his partner. Siva stood and allowed the sorcerer to replace their seat as Siva took room in his lap. The two partners smiled. "Two are better than one."
"I love watching your mercenaries make heads roll." Siva sighed pleasurably, grasping their chest out of dramatic effect.
Polter stood from the couch, fiddling with the belt loops on the front of her lower attire in irritability. "Can't we just enjoy the time off, Fuzzy?" She asked, using her husband's affectionate nickname, and giving the black cat a blush. "I'd love to just relax and watch all the carnage on TV. Especially if you're butt fucking naked."
"Not a bad idea." Sivah piped up, to which Roselle nodded in agreement.
"Come-on, Polter." Erosa whined to his wife with no avail. "We'd be getting paid to shit all over the ones who ruined my walk. I already know how to find the red one, the imp. It's just a matter of luring out the other. Half of the battle is already won."
"Battle of the Fornicators." Polter said. "Think about how ridiculous that sounds out loud."
"You have the entire week to decide." Roselle said with a smile, an arm finding it's way around Sivah's waist, much to the latter's sigh in contempt. "Keep in mind that it was simply a suggestion and not a requirement. Just stay safe over all. I'd hate to lose my best group."
Erosa and Polter looked at each other before silently agreeing to delay the discussion until the car, taking their boss's advice and giving their best wishes before departing in a silence that was suddenly broken by passionate arguing outside the house.
"Those are our best?" Sivah almost laughed, giving a close smile . "We could do so much better alone."
"Maybe." Roselle said, and gave his partner a kiss on the lips before observing the zip gun left behind. "Maybe."
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A/N: Cool news! The famous Season 1 Ep 8 of Helluva Boss came out today and, honestly, made me rethink this story a bit. It's a constant balance for me to make sure everyone acts the way they're supposed to if they're from the show, and even more to make sure the made up characters don't steal the spotlight. Who knows, my time writing is often spending keeping my head away from the ass.
Either way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I think a side plot is a good way to get off the sappy OC x Blitz debauchery. I look forward to seeing you all next chapter: "Turn Me On, Dead Man." We get some nice character development :)
- Jay