A set of taloned feet walked through the corridors of the Goetia Estate. Upon them, they carried the master of the manor. However, he did not feel as such as of late. More and more, the Noble named Stolas was burdened by a deteriorating mental state.
Although, if we're to be truthful, Stolas hadn't ever been in a proper place. Even as a child, misery constantly disrupted his moments of joy. This became a worse issue when his forced marriage to Stella happened. After that, the only happiness Stolas found was his time with his Daughter in her younger years and, recently, his affair with Blitzo.
However, as Stolas continued to dwell on his life and recent events, he returned to an observation Gabriel had made when they met. That Stolas didn't behave like the other Demons of Hell, at least not consistently.
When it came to murdering or torturing humans? Sure. Stolas was capable of behaving like a Hellspawn. But in his personal life, he was the exact opposite. Stella's abuse and neglect of their relationship weren't an isolated thing. Nearly ALL the relationships in Hell were like this; it was HELL. THEY were DEMONS. Cruelty was their form of euphoria and pleasure.
But for some reason, Stolas didn't want that. Why was he like this? He struggled so much to understand the reasoning for it all that it drove him mad! Please! Someone! Anyone! Help to make sense of it! Stolas grabbed his head as his mind flooded with all these thoughts and desperate feelings! He just needed help! Clarity! Please...anyone...
...
...Stolas...
Stolas's eyes shot wide open. That voice. He looked around himself frantically. Where did it come from? Where was its origin?
...Stolas...
It was slightly louder this time. The voice came from down the hall. Stolas hurried in its direction. Upon reaching the end, he looked to his left and right.
There. To his right side, down the next corridor. The library of the manor. Stolas was certain that was where the voice called from.
With haste, Stolas entered the room. He shut the doors behind him; he didn't want anyone else to come in or potentially get out. With the doors secured, Stolas slowly walked to the center of the room. The walls were lined with shelves filled with hundreds of books, but the most important sat atop a podium in the middle of the space.
The Grimoire glowed with its usual crimson light. The only source of illumination to disrupt the darkness of the library. As Stolas got closer to it, the voice spoke again. Only this time, it said more than just his name.
Stolas...at last...you hear me...
"Who...Who are you?..." Stolas questioned, confused and frightened.
I am the power you have always commanded...I possess no name...I bear no form...I am what the will of my master wishes...I am your Grimoire...
"No...this isn't right..." Stolas rejected that response. "You...You've never spoken before! This...This is a trick! You're one of them, aren't you? Those foul creatures!" He exclaimed before rushing for the door.
Go on...tell them...say that I speak...they'll come...none will hear my voice...when your Father returns...he'll berate you yet again...scold you for your foolishness...
"Heh...now I know you're lying..." Stolas said with a small chuckle. "I remember everything my Father told me about the Grimoire. What my responsibilities were. Never did he mention it would speak to me." He stated.
Are you certain...your mind has forgotten much...stress...fear...anxiety...all cloud your memory...consider that...it will spare you humiliation...
Stolas tightly gripped the doors' handles. All he needed to do was return to the living room and tell Doomguy what was happening. Although, from what Stolas had learned over these past few days, the space marine showed no hesitation regarding these matters. Suppose it turned out that the Grimoire speaking WASN'T Doom and Doomguy did something extreme such as burning it; Paimon would be PISSED.
But that unfathomable rage wouldn't land on Doomguy's shoulders. No. It'd be the person who told him that the Grimoire was speaking. As slim a chance as it was, Stolas couldn't receive more punishment from his Father. He just...couldn't.
"...Hmph. Fine." Stolas said, maintaining a tight grip on the handle. "A moment. That's all I'll need. My mind is as sharp as ever. Recalling my conversations with my Father won't take long." He told the book as he closed his eyes to begin thinking.
...
...
Memories. There were just so many. Demons and how they aged were different from humans. Stolas's childhood lasted far longer than one would expect. This, of course, included his "teenage" years.
Countless exchanges between Stolas and Paimon. Most were about Stolas's responsibilities and duties as a Noble and a Prince of the Goetia. As time progressed, his impending marriage to Stella became a prominent topic. Nevertheless, the focus was always primarily on Stolas, in short, not fucking things up and being an embarrassment.
Several moments flashed before Stolas. Instances when he asked his Father for assistance or was directly instructed by him. Additionally, there were times when Paimon educated Stolas on the finer aspects of the Grimoire.
One of the most significant lessons Stolas ever received was when it came to interacting with the human world. Paimon stressed the importance of discretion and adhering to Lord Lucifer's laws. The first few times Stolas attempted to conjure a portal between Hell and Earth weren't successful. At each failure, Paimon responded with a swift slap upside his head.
Slowly but surely, Stolas went through his past. He did his best to remember every word he exchanged with his Father. Just when it seemed as though he'd prove himself right, Stolas heard it. The memory the Grimoire spoke of.
It was one of the final times Stolas sat down for a meal with Paimon before he was wed. Stolas found himself in that memory, sitting at a table while looking sadly at his food.
"The wedding is tomorrow," Paimon spoke, lightly swirling his serving of wine. "I trust there won't be any issues." He continued.
"No, sir. There won't be." Stolas replied. This memory felt true because of the details, such as the food in front of him or the room surrounding them. Nothing was out of place. Yet, something didn't seem right. Was it his Father's voice?
"Good. Glad to hear it." Paimon said, briefly taking a sip from his glass. "Before then, I have something to tell you. Think of it as a wedding gift." He told him.
"You...do?" Stolas questioned, finally looking up from his plate. The voice sounded fine now. Was it his imagination?
"It's your Grimoire." Paimon began, gently setting the glass down. "There's something I've yet to share with you. I didn't feel confident speaking about it until I was certain you could use it properly." He continued. His attention was now solely on his Son. "You see, items of great power, such as Grimoires, have...effects, shall we say."
"What kind of effects?" Stolas inquired, interrupting him.
"If you let me finish talking, perhaps you won't ask ignorant questions." Paimon scolded before resuming. "The effects that I mentioned begin to manifest after enough time has passed. So much interaction with an object as powerful as a Grimoire causes a bond to form. Think of it as a soul connection. The Grimoire, while still usable by others, will become more attuned to yours the longer you use it. As such, you'll be able to conjure its powers without the book at all." He revealed.
"Truly? I won't need it eventually?" Stolas asked, his interest steadily growing.
"Yes. However, this is where another of the effects can appear." Paimon confessed. "You see, such powers can play with one's psyche. Now, don't be alarmed; this isn't to imply you'll become unhinged. Your mind will simply associate the Grimoire as a companion. Think of it like your servant. You'll manifest a voice and identity for the book so it feels more comfortable to you. But the important thing to remember is that it is still YOU. You're subconsciously imposing a will onto this inanimate thing because of the deep bond you'll form with it." He explained.
"How long will that take?" Stolas pressed. "It'll be quite ominous should I awaken in the middle of the night from a voice calling out to me." He added.
"Hard to say. It might not even happen. Remember, I said CAN appear. Not that it WILL." Paimon clarified. "Typically, such things only happen when one needs them. Those who squirrel themselves away studying Tomes, Grimoires, and other items of magical significance. Isolation can already lead to one hearing voices in their head. But in the case of these objects, it's entirely due to the individual. Again, because of your constant association. Think of it no differently than how a child will give an identity to a stuffed toy. It's essentially the same thing." He stated.
"I...see..." Stolas slowly responded.
After that, silence took over the room. Both men continued with their meals as Stolas contemplated such an event transpiring.
...
...
Slowly, Stolas's fingers released the handle they gripped. His head hung down from his shoulders.
"I...I didn't..." Stolas quietly stuttered, shutting his eyes tighter. "Why...Why didn't I remember that until now?..." He questioned.
How much did you recall before now...the amount of information your Father gave you...how little was ever used...what quantity of your past did you keep buried...
Thinking on that, the Grimoire had a point. Stolas barely used any of the "lessons" his Father taught. Going further than that, he didn't use ANY of the Grimoire's powers except for his responsibilities. I.M.P. used the portal conjuration, and Stolas used the Grimoire at the "Blood Moon Festival" every year, but that was it. That wasn't even a fourth of the book's power.
"What...was the point of it all?..." Stolas asked, his eyes slowly opening. They were filled with a mixture of sadness and anger. "He scolded me so many times. Called me stupid and an idiot whenever I made the slightest error. Yet, only three of his teachings have ever been relevant, and they aren't anywhere close to being the most complex. What...WHAT WAS IT ALL FOR?!" He shouted, his hands now balled into fists.
Lies...all lies...he never cared about an heir...Paimon has other children who can accomplish that purpose...you were always a liability...Stella was the safety measure...
...It's right. The Grimoire...made sense. Every second of their marriage, Stella has done nothing but continue the harsh treatment Paimon gave his Son. Every day was a beratement or scolding for not acting like a true Noble. Ceaseless commentary on how Stolas wasn't a real Demon.
"Why...are you saying these things?..." Stolas asked, finally looking back at the book. "Aren't you meant to help me? Isn't that what the memory implied? You're a manifestation of MY psyche." He pointed out.
No one cares...you are pathetic...but it is by THEIR standards...you have always hated them...loathed their perception of you...yet never have you the courage to speak back...to stand your ground...but now...you do...even if you do not realize it...
"...Yes...that's why...I finally hear you..." Stolas began, piecing it together. "I...needed a voice...someone...ANYONE...to be on MY side...Gabriel remained neutral, saying neither was at fault...but...that's not true...I'm the victim here...I always have been..." He continued, slowly approaching the Grimoire.
Show them...pull back my cover...peer into my pages...relearn what has been forgotten...show them the Demon you are...become what they are to you...
"A monster," Stolas spoke with a small smile, gently laying his hand on the Grimoire's cover. "A horrid creature with no compassion. No care or acknowledgment of their suffering. Do they want selfishness? Ego? Evil? Fine. I'll finally oblige." He stated.
Elsewhere, In The Manor...
After Stolas's departure, not much else happened in the Goetia's living room. The lesson proceeded as it normally would without further incident. Stella, regretfully, did have to leave before it was complete. She had that brunch date to get to with Alastor and the Overlord she sought to speak with. But of course, the Radio Demon was aware of the lessons and wouldn't be confused if she was tardy.
Beyond that, nothing else of note occurred. However, as the staff departed once the lesson was finished, the four-man mercenary squad began conversing with their mute instructor.
"You know, you could be a real teacher." Moxxie began as they approached Doomguy. He was busy clearing the whiteboard with an eraser.
In reply, Doomguy shook his head.
"Oh, come on. Don't be so modest." Millie said with an eye roll. "You've got a nice brain in that noggin of yours. Plus, when Doom's finally dealt with, you'll need to think of something else to do that won't involve using a gun." She told him.
"...Millie, did you forget what WE do for a living?" Loona questioned with a raised brow. She took a moment to ask that, as she needed to be sure she heard her correctly.
"Yeah, but it's not like we can go BACK to doing that, right? Lord Lucifer knows what's up. The business is done for." Millie reminded.
"...Oh my fucking god, you're right..." Blitzo rapidly said, that realization striking him like a bolt of lightning.
"Sir. Please, PLEASE, do NOT tell me that JUST occurred to you." Moxxie requested. Sure, his boss was dumb. But Jesus fucking Christ, there HAD to be a limit.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mox. I was sort of busy worrying about being executed by the Devil, Paimon ripping my eyeballs out while I'm still alive to feel it, and us being forced to move in with my lover's family who all hate me." Blitzo snarkily responded.
During this exchange, Doomguy kept his eyes on the whiteboard, even though it was clear. The idea of two gay Demons having sex didn't bother him. He simply respected their private lives, even if they weren't treating them as if they were. It wasn't any of the space marine's business.
"Eh, that's fair," Millie said in their boss's defense. "Still, it's something that Doomguy AND us should consider." She insisted.
"...Well...we could still put our talents to use." Loona started as an idea came to her. "All we'd have to do is go legit. Instead of mercenaries, what about private security?" She suggested.
"Hmm...not a bad idea..." Moxxie complimented her, putting his hand to his chin in thought. "However, none of us have much of a reputation. What little we have, separate or combined, isn't too good. I doubt anyone in Hell would give us a chance over the other reliable options already on the market." He stated.
"That's an easy fix. We'll be dirt cheap." Blitzo replied with a proud grin.
"Being cheap is part of why we're even in this mess, sir." Moxxie reminded him. After all, Blitzo managed to get the Grimoire in the first place through a robbery that turned sexual. Luckily, it worked out EXTREMELY well.
"What about him?" Loona proposed, pointing her thumb at Doomguy. "Once the Doom situation is resolved, people will know who he is. Even before then, everyone's going to learn about him. The Goetias are throwing that big ball, remember? Soon, all of Hell will know that Doomguy is trustworthy, reliable, and gets shit done no matter the odds. If he were the face of our new business, there'd be no problems whatsoever." She reasoned.
Upon hearing that, Doomguy slowly turned around to face the group. His expression didn't convey anger or shock. Rather, it said: "...Are you serious?"
"What? It's a solid idea." Loona said in her defense.
In response, Doomguy turned around and wrote on the whiteboard: "I barely know any of you."
"That's a good point. We haven't interacted THAT much, even over these past few days." Moxxie acknowledged.
"Well, there's PLENTY of time to resolve that!" Millie exclaimed with an optimistic and enthusiastic grin. "Besides, no matter how good you are at dealing with Doom, it wouldn't hurt to have some experienced hands at your backside, would it?" She added.
However, before Doomguy could turn back around and boldly write "NO" for the sake of their safety, the group was interrupted by someone else.
"Um, excuse me," Octavia spoke up. Until now, she had remained on the couch, ensuring she wrote down all the notes she wanted and needed to. When that was done, she approached the group without them noticing. "If it's alright, I'd like to speak to you. Privately." She requested.
Assuming it was about the material, Doomguy nodded in acceptance. This caused a smile to form on the young Goetia's face.
"Thank you," Octavia said appreciatively. "I'll be out on the front porch." She added before departing.
"Heh, teacher's pet," Loona commented with a chuckle.
"I don't blame her. Everything we've learned is fascinating but also complex." Moxxie said before looking at Doomguy. "When you're done with Octavia, would you mind if we reviewed the information as well?" He requested.
In reply, Doomguy nodded his head again.
"Ooh! We can make it like a fun study session!" Millie exclaimed with a clap of her hands. "We'll do it at lunch or sometime in the afternoon. We'll get snacks and get to know each other better while we talk." She went on.
As I.M.P. began discussing this proposed "study session", Doomguy headed outside, not wanting to keep Octavia waiting. Sure enough, as the young Goetia had promised, she patiently sat on the porch.
"Wow. That was quick." Octavia noted as Doomguy sat down beside her. "I assumed you'd keep talking with them for a few more minutes." She admitted.
In reaction, Doomguy produced a small notepad. He now carried one on himself for such occasions.
"They quickly started talking about something else. The perfect time for me to slip away." Doomguy wrote.
"Ah. Yeah, that sounds like them." Octavia said with a smile.
"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Doomguy wrote.
"Straight to business. Not that it's surprising." Octavia commented, maintaining her smile. "Well, unlike what you're probably guessing, it's not to go over what you taught us today. I...just needed to speak to you about some stuff. If that's okay." She confessed.
In response, Doomguy nodded. No need to waste the ink in his pen on a simple yes.
"Thank you," Octavia said, her smile getting bigger. Her expression also changed to relief for a second. Almost as if she was expecting him to reject her. "I won't waste your time explaining the why behind what I will ask you. Unless you want to know, then I'll be happy to. It's just...before you showed up and everything happened, my life wasn't...exactly...nice..." She told him, her voice getting quieter as she spoke.
Doomguy gave no reaction. He waited until he saw Octavia expect something from him. He could already see she was trying to get something off her chest.
"...Sorry." Octavia apologized after a few moments of thinking. "I didn't mean to bring down the mood. I just needed to try and paint the picture of why this is happening. Even if by a little." She explained before resuming. "In short, Doomguy, I want to learn as much from you as possible. Not just about Doom. I've waited for my Father or Mother to teach me about things beyond Hell my entire life. Yet they were always so busy fighting that I fell into the background. But now, you're here. And I know it's not permanent. This is only happening because of Doom, and once that's dealt with, you'll be gone. However, until that happens, and before things get too busy to where we can't talk, I'd like as much of your time as you're willing to give." She concluded.
...Huh. Of all the things that had been requested of Doomguy, this was by FAR the most normal. As stated many times before, he didn't need to know about the Goetias' personal lives. However, even without that knowledge, it was apparent that Octavia wanted someone to notice her.
Admittedly, Doomguy was flattered that, despite knowing him for so little time, Octavia felt comfortable enough to ask this. She wasn't demanding to know his past. She wasn't trying to force him into anything. All Octavia wanted, apart from the recognition of her existence, was to have her lifelong curiosity satiated.
To that, Doomguy nodded. Like before, there was no point in wasting ink for confirmation. That gesture conveyed all that it needed to.
This time, Octavia chose to respond similarly to the space marine. No words were uttered. Only teary eyes, followed by a hug that couldn't be helped. The young Goetia didn't think it'd go so well. This outcome filled her with a joy she hadn't felt since childhood.
Doomguy, understanding that this was a big deal for her, allowed Octavia to have her hug. He didn't return it, but she didn't expect him to. Ignoring the suddenness of the embrace, they still weren't that familiar. Hopefully, that would work itself out during their planned interactions.
"DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMGUY!"
A familiar voice suddenly shouted into the air. Octavia jumped backward from Doomguy in surprise, while the space marine didn't react. They traced the voice back to its source, the estate's main gate. Through its metal bars, the pair saw an...interesting sight.
Cherri Bomb, the mono-eyed punk rocker, bounced up and down in front of the gate with a big ol' grin while waving her hand like a maniac. However, directly behind her, an entirely different scene unfolded. A couple of the estate's security were apprehending the sensual spider, Angel Dust. Yet, even from this distance, it seemed to Doomguy and Octavia that his detainment was caused purely by his attempt to "convince" the guards to let him and Cherri in.
"HEY! DOOMGUY! OVER HERE!" Cherri continued to shout and wave. "THESE GUYS WON'T LET US IN! ANGEL TRIED TO OFFER'EM HANDIES, BUT THEN THEY CUFFED HIM!" She went on.
"IT'S NOT MY FAULT THESE GUYS HAVE NO SEX DRIVE!" Angel Dust shouted in his defense. Not afraid to admit to the offer of handjobs. "BIG GUY! COULD YOU COME SORT THIS SHIT OUT?! NORMALLY, I'M ALL FOR CUFFS! BUT THESE GUYS DON'T USE THE FUN KIND!" He requested.
"Go on," Octavia told the space marine as she stood up. "I'll head inside and prepare everyone for our visitors." She said.
In return, Doomguy nodded. As Octavia entered the manor, he headed to the main gate to assist the chaotic duo of Demons that had arrived.