Hexside Academy
School had just ended for the day and all the students were happily leaving the premises, ready to spend the rest of the day relaxing and doing nothing.
Three students, however, weren't feeling the elation as they sat down on the stairs leading to the entrance. Luz had explained everything to them regarding the current situation with the portal and how close she was to leaving this world.
Leaving everyone.
"Why didn't you tell us, Luz?"
Willow's question echoed in Luz's mind for a second or two before the human finally answered, "I don't know."
Gus then decided to pipe up, "come on, Luz, be honest with us."
Luz sighed before answering, preferring to say the truth, "how am I supposed to tell you?" She asked, before proceeding to enact a scenario, "hey, guys, I just realized I'm gonna leave you all when I go back to my home dimension with a strong possibility that I'll never be able to come back. So how was your day?"
Gus slightly winced, "well, when you put it like that, it does sound pretty bad."
Luz groaned, pulling her hoodie with cat ears over her head akin to a tortoise retreating into its shell, "I don't know what to do," she said, her voice slightly muffled behind the cloth.
Willow placed a hand on Luz's shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, "I'm sure you'll figure something out," she reassured her, "we all will."
Luz just groaned again, "everyone says that, but I don't believe it."
It was time for Gus to put a hand on her shoulder, "we mean it, Luz," he reassured the human, "we genuinely mean it. We will find a way to make it work. We promise."
Both witches then gave Luz a deep hug, their embrace going on for what felt like hours. It was a deeper hug than even Eda and King's earlier that week.
This seemed to calm her down. She stopped holding onto her hoodie and returned the embrace. She exposed her head again, a slight reassured smile on her face now, "thanks, guys," she said with a sniffle.
"Anytime," Willow said as she and Gus pulled back.
Luz smiled before she sighed a breath of relief before piping up, "I guess the reason I'm so worried about all of this is because I'm just not sure how I'm gonna tell Amity about this."
"Tell me about what?"
Like a frog, Luz leapt in the air with a startled yelp from Amity's sudden appearance. She then turned around to face her so fast, one could have sworn she snapped her spinal cord doing so, "uh… hey, Amity!" She nervously said.
Amity was confused, but slightly amused, "what got you so jumpy today, Luz?"
Luz stammered a bit in her response, "n-nothing! Nothing's got me jumpy! Why would I ever be jumpy?" Her attempt at reassurance did not help, "how are you?"
Willow and Gus buried their faces in their hands in embarrassment, while Amity raised a brow at her girlfriend's odd behavior. "I'm good," the magenta-haired witch replied, awkwardly.
"That's good to know!" Luz said, with a forced smile, making this whole interaction even more awkward.
Amity sported a look of confusion before deciding to speak up, "right, so, since you're here, I was kind of wondering if you'd like to go to the library today," she brushed a strand of hair away from her face as she continued, "I've got some kids to read to. I was hoping you'd come and join me."
Luz was lost for the briefest of moments looking at her girlfriend's eyes. Gosh, she was so adorable. She snapped out of it, realizing what she had said and struggled to figure out an answer.
"Er… Sorry, babe," she said, sheepishly, "but, I gotta help Eda with stuff and the whole Phillip's Diary thing. You get the idea."
Amity frowned, "Oh…" she responded, rather dejectedly. This broke Luz's heart to no end.
Luz tried to save face, "hey, don't be sad!" She exclaimed, "how about I make it up to you by taking you out for some ice cream?"
The lavender-haired witch's face immediately perked up, "I love eye's cream! Especially when the eyeballs are fresh!"
Lus slightly recoiled from her girlfriend's description… "sure… that sounds nice."
Still, she was happy with that answer. She let Owlbert down in flight mode and gave Amity a kiss on the cheek, which she blushed at. She hopped on the staff and waved to her friends, "see you guys, later!" She exclaimed as she flew away to the horizon, with them waving back.
Amity smiled before hopping on her own palisman, waving to her friends and heading towards the library.
As Amity flew away, both Willow and Gus looked at each other, "do we tell her?" The latter asked, rather concerned.
Willow just shook her head, "I think it's best we let Luz tell her," she looked over the horizon towards where the human and other witch flew away, "something tells me that if we intervened, we'd make this situation worse than it might already be."
On her way towards the Owl House, Luz scolded herself for avoiding the portal problem with her girlfriend yet again.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She said to herself with a huff and gritted teeth. She sighed, knowing that what was done was done.
A problem to solve for another time.
But she worried she was running out of it.
Bonesborough Streets
The darkness of the night covered the sky, allowing only the twinkling stars to be shown. The city was now shrouded in darkness, save for the occasional flickering lamp post and late night businesses.
The silence was deafening. The only sound that could be heard was the occasional gust of wind in the air, echoing across the roads like a wandering spirit moaning.
That and the faint thumping of heavy music coming from a nightclub.
In all the places of the Boiling Isles, you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy like Dionys Club. It was an establishment of pure hedonism, temptation, and corruption. Where everyone sold a part of their soul the moment they entered the doors.
Tyran growled in annoyance knowing that his trail to find Tibbles led him here.
The ogre looked up at the club sign and scrunched his nose at the scent of alcohol and drugs that he could smell even from outside the building. With a huff, he headed towards the entrance, with each step of his making a heavy thump, and knocked on the metallic door the minute he approached it.
A slit opened in the metal door, a pair of eyeballs belonging to a bouncer witch behind it. He moved to Tyran, who had to slightly kneel to get on the ocular organs' proper level.
"What's the password?" the bouncer said, in an almost joking matter.
Tyran only snarled in response and punched the door hard enough to dent it, scaring the figure behind it.
"Ok, jeez, you can get in!" he said, closing the metal slit and unlocking the door, opening it for the ogre.
"My thanks," Tyran snarked to the side as he squeezed through the door and shuffled past the bouncer who just put on an annoyed expression seeing the hunter pass through, before said annoyance turned to fear seeing just how tall he actually was.
He simply closed the door after Tyran entered. It was best not to say anything that would make him upset.
Upon his entry, Tyran observed the place with three of his five senses. First was his sense of smell. The smell of alcohol, drugs, and rampant pheromones disgusted and overpowered it. Second was his hearing. His eardrums were assaulted by a genre of music playing on decibels that would deafen many when exposed to it for prolonged periods of time. And lastly was his sight. All he saw was flashing lights, a combination of drunk and high demons and witches of all shapes and sizes engaged in all manners of debauchery or dancing on the floor. And by dancing, it was more like flailing their arms in the air to the beat of the music.
This was no place for a hunter like him.
Alas, his prey was here. And he had to find him.
He stepped forward, followed only by his nose. His olfactory senses were working overtime to filter out foreign scents and hone in on only Tibbles' ever disappearing scent. Along his search, he rudely shoved aside groups of demons and witches, as he walked around the building, keeping a sharp enough eye out for the imp. His trail led to a balcony, where he slithered his way through tables and people, looking under the former by using his immense strength to lift them up, much to the dismay and annoyance of the clubbers who were seated.
He ignored the comments and insults thrown at him thanks to his actions and reached the end of the balcony, growling in annoyance that he had already lost the scent of his prey. He took a gander at the crowd below, hoping to find the sight of a small pig demon shuffling his way through the crowd.
Nothing.
He gripped the railing in frustration, crunching the metal like it was made of paper before his brief bit of rage was interrupted by a tap on his armor. He turned his head to see a security guard demon address him.
"Uh… Sir…" the demon said with slight hesitation, "I've been getting reports that you've been disturbing the clubgoers…"
Tyran only grabbed the demon by the neck with a mighty arm and a snarl, lifting him up with the intent on squeezing his head like a grape.
"Is there a problem, gentlemen?"
A voice interrupted them both as they turned to see the disapproving stare of Crowley, arms folded across his chest as the flashing lights illuminated his hide suit. The homunculus narrowed his eyes at the ogre with a confused stare, "Tyran?"
The hunter dropped the guard with a loud 'thud' as he responded, "Hello, Crowley."
Crowley dismissed the guard on the floor, "the heck are you doing here?" the homunculus inquired as the guard left, before narrowing his eyes at the ogre and pointing at him, "don't tell me Wilkes sent you to protect me. I already told her I don't need any more damn bodyguards."
Tyran dismissed that assumption, "I'm only hunting a very elusive prey. My trail led me to this…" he paused, thinking of the right words to describe this club so that he wouldn't offend Crowley, "... establishment. Unfortunately, it appears I have lost the trail. "
The flesh golem only nodded, "well, in that case, you certainly ain't gonna find them here. Not without help, at least."
"You doubt my ability to find my prey?" Tyran asked with an offended tone.
Crowley only put his hands up to reassure him, "I ain't doubting, my friend," he then clarified what he meant, "you just look a bit out of your element here and it never hurts to lend a hand to an old friend."
He then went up to the hunter's side, "besides, Wilkes would give me shit if I didn't help you."
Tyran huffed in amusement at the thought of that image.
Crowley then patted the ogre's back, "why don't you relax a bit," he said to him, proceeding to escort him to an empty table, "it's probably been a long night for you. Sit down, have a drink, and if you want, I can hook you up with a special show."
"That.. won't be necessary." The ogre responded, "but I will have that drink."
Crowley only nodded before querying him again, "any reference for your target? Physical description and such?"
"He's an imp. Swine in appearance. Glasses. Easy to miss, but indistinguishable once you see him."
Crowley nodded before turning to a nearby waiter and ordering her to fetch him a drink. After that, the homunculus left the hunter to his own devices. Tyran crossed his arms and leaned against the railings, observing the dancers as he awaited both his beverage and his target to show.
For he knew the key to a good hunter… was patience.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the club, Tibbles was having a very bad day.
All day, he had been trying to scrounge up enough money to pay off Wilke's debt, but to no avail. And all night, he was tracked by that brute, Tyran. He was tired. His legs were sore from constant running and he still felt out of breath despite doing nothing but catching it for at least thirty minutes.
He took in a deep breath before exhaling, after which, he took a sip of his drink. He figured he may as well waste what little money he had left on him by getting drunk and enjoying the remainder of his life in an alcoholic stupor.
He traced the rim of the glass in boredom. He contemplated his entire life. Years, decades even, of scams, lying, cheats, sucking up, and more, and this is what it all led to: being hunted down by Mr. Psychopath himself in a nightclub where the last shred of one's innocence goes to die.
He sighed again, staring at his drink with blank eyes before downing what remained of it in one swig. He huffed before stepping from the bar table, his little legs carrying him to the edge of the bar room where he witnessed the dancers in the center of the building.
His eyes looked around, observing the sights of the club before they paused at a particular image of Tyran on a balcony, drink in hand and observing the area below him like a perched hawk surveying the land.
The imp gulped. A million thoughts raced in his head. He wasn't sure if he should run now or stay and accept the inevitable. Flight? Or fight?
"Hey! You!"
His ears perked up at this sudden addressing. He turned around to see a wasp demon glaring intently at him, before pushing on an oracular necklace, "I think we found him, boss."
Flight it is.
Without hesitation, the swine ran as fast as his little legs could through the crowd of dancing clubbers, though not without some degree of shoving.
"Get back here!" The wasp demon said as he tried to move his way through the crowd. Emphasis on 'tried' as several of the partygoers mistook his shoving as a sign of him inciting a mosh pit, which made his pursuit worse.
From the balcony above, Tyran noticed these events and narrowed his eyes, trying to find a small shape moving amongst the crowd. Eventually, he found one and crushed the glass in his hands in anger as he got a move on.
Thanks to his little frame, the imp made his way to the entrance of the building, where it seemed clear, save for the bouncer who seemed to not give a damn about anything going on.
"Haha!" He exclaimed in glee as he rushed towards the door, only to be met with the sudden appearance of a multi-eyed guard holding a spiked baton, followed by several other security personnel appearing out of the blue, even the bouncer stood up and brandished some brass knuckles.
"Going somewhere?"
The ever deep, ever guttural voice of Tyran spoke behind the imp. Tibbles slowly turned behind him and gulped seeing him surrounded by several security guards, all radiating with malicious intent.
The swine chuckled awkwardly, "fellas…" He said, hands up in faux innocence, "can't we talk this through?"
"Your pleas will not help you this time, imp," Tyran said as he reached for his sword with a smile beneath his face plate.
"Hey, what the fuck do you think you're doing!?"
The voice of Crowley interrupted the ogre. All heads turned towards the irate homunculus as he clarified his anger, "take this outside please," he exasperated, "you have any idea how hard it is to clean blood off the carpet?"
Tyran nodded, along with the guards next to him. They turned back towards the trapped imp, who was shaking in his hooves and biting his nails. The ogre stepped forward and grabbed him by his bulbous head, proclaiming to him, "it's time to paint the streets with your blood."
BAM
The metal door suddenly went flying! It hit the multi-eyed guard and impacted against a wall, squishing the guard into a bloody paste in the process.
Everyone looked at the grisly image before turning to see the one responsible for breaking the door: a red cloaked figure holding two crossbows in his hands, with green eyes burning with malice as he greeted them all.
"Knock knock."