Bleh!
Honestly, my greatest achievement so far, not the chapter, I MANAGED TO MAKE A CHAPTER WITH 6K WORDS,(Guys, I screwed up, I made a couple of changes to the chapter and now it's over 8.5k), theoretically, one more chapter and the initial arc ends, entering the helluva boss canon!
You already know the drill, P a treon . com (slash) Asofcookies, not much interesting stuff there for now, leaving it there just in case, some things may sound repetitive, or stupid, lately I've been reading a lot of nonsensical things lol
Look, I spend all my energy writing, the translation into English always comes out questionable, please report any errors.
The least infernal bathroom in hell (imagine how the public ones must be) - Isaac
Tired eyes managed to establish direct contact with a smiling face, an unreal smile that didn't harmonize with the dark circles beneath their own eyes. The smile stood upright as if it were an obligation, while their entire body seemed to cry out for an urgent nap.
Isaac couldn't help but release an exhausted yawn as he turned on the sink faucet; water filled their hands until overflowing, cascading onto the basin for several seconds. Meanwhile, the white-hair boy let out a joyless laugh as he splashed the water onto his face in a desperate attempt to awaken their senses.
Feeling the water coursing down their face, their eyes opened to encounter the same depressing and senseless image they had observed before: fixed eyes staring at their own reflection, admiring themselves, not out of egocentrism or cynicism, but in a crude attempt to avoid thinking about anything else. Because the moment he dignifiedly attempted to think of something else...
'We didn't even have a basement in our house…'
Frustration reached its peak, and their head, its lowest point.
*THUMP*
Without energy, Isaac only felt the stream of water falling onto his head, held captive within the sink. Ignoring this, and with their vision blurred by the whiteness of the sink gradually turning light blue as the water rose, Isaac seemed more frustrated by the fact that the water was taking too long to drown him than by the fact that he was being drowned by the water itself.
"WHY THE HELL CAN'T I STOP THINKING ABOUT STUPID THINGS AT 3 AM?"
And when the world seemed to have exhausted all its tricks to mess with him, it was his own surroundings that became the main provocateur, offering a pristine glow that soaked into his clothes. Slowly, they cleaned, releasing white particles of similar mass but of a different shade than anima sola was projecting as it disappeared, retaining its own color palette dancing between orange and black.
A spectacle for any human eye or living being, but not one that Isaac could enjoy anyway. After all, his head remained pressed against the sink, which was starting to dirty the floor as it overflowed—a fact that Isaac diligently ignored.
-cut line)
An elevator shared with a lone she-wolf, lol. Loona.
"Ha" the jaws of a solitary hellhound released a dry laugh as it observed its phone, only diverting its gaze to check the number of remaining floors to its darn destination. Annoying ideas filled its head due to the apparent whim of venturing into the middle of the night through hell solely for a discomfort it was unable to decipher.
'AHHHHHHH-bleh.'
Fortunately, a low-quality scream emanated from its phone, forcing the hellhound to stop focusing on what truly mattered and distracting it from uncovering the reason for its discomfort. A cycle that had been in effect since it had left its home.
'How can you be so annoying when you scream but so hilarious when you scream?' were whispers from its own mind directed at the annoying imp that always seemed to meddle in the affairs of others instead of focusing on its boring marriage.
But those insults couldn't persist.
*BEEP*
After all, she had reached her destination. The horrible smell of damp and old carpet welcomed her, reminding her of the kind of place she was heading to: the I.M.P offices, the most boring place in hell, according to her.
With clear indifference, her lupine appendages moved with total tranquility along the corridor that seemed to be perpetually empty.
'GUAAAA- UGh.'
And without ever letting go of her phone, she let out another bored laugh as she watched the little devil on her phone scream in desperation, only to be exterminated, and then scream again. A loop that simply wouldn't end, and a joke in itself to annoy the little devil that bothered her so much. After all, why call yourself Moxxie if you don't want an app called "mock a Moxx"?
But... Loona couldn't help but doubt a bit about how quickly the designer she hired for these things had added new animations and sounds; literally, this had happened yesterday.
...
'Yesterday.'
...
Those limbs, previously moving without hesitation beyond mere boredom, came to an abrupt halt upon sensing a distinct discomfort. The owner of these limbs swiftly turned, focusing on scrutinizing the corridor around her, feeling that something was amiss. It was as if her own body whispered to her that she was forgetting something.
Though...
'Meh.' The dissatisfaction dissolved with a simple shrug and an excuse assuring herself that she probably forgot to close the shower faucet or turn off the oven, as she had done so many times before. In any case, she would find out through a blitz call.
Ignoring the whole affair, the hellhound continued her journey, stowing her phone away while feeling the tingling sensation persisting deep within, reminding her that she was forgetting something.
Finally, a tired sigh was all that could escape Loona's lips as she stood in front of the I.M.P door, muttering curses in annoyance while retrieving her keys. She even stretched and performed any movement that could alleviate the dissatisfaction and discomfort she felt.
On the verge of finally entering, for some reason, she continued to focus on anything that might seem out of place. She was a hellhound, a damn hellish dog, and more than anyone, she knew what her instinct was capable of. But the only strange thing she could think of was how the journey here was quieter than usual.
But with nothing else in mind, Loona was compelled to suppress her instinct as she assumed it was probably just part of the boredom.
'And what better place to slack off than the most boring site in this damn hell.'
And... her body simply watched the wood corroded and destroyed by the constant kicks it received from a certain imp that could be considered a door. Tired even of her own mind, the solitary hellhound shook her head to dispel her annoyances.
With her claws gripping the door handle, her other hand quickly opened the lock. And just as her instinct warned her, her body tensed naturally upon perceiving a kind of... unfamiliar aroma.
Distinguishing it from the scent of a person, an egocentric smile lit up her face as she hoped that, on the other side of the door, that stupid intruder was getting ready to understand why Loona, Despite being a hellhound, she wasn't exactly a biting dog; she was a wolf, a wolf that tears apart...
The door didn't open completely, just a few inches, enough to make no noise, and enough for the hellhound to pass. Forcing calmness in her breathing, her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of the place, finding, at least, the entrance of the complex completely empty.
But that scent... that fucking odor persisted, unexpectedly enveloping her. It resembled that of a sinner newly arrived in hell, but with greater intensity and force, captivating, sharpening all her senses with just a whiff.
This fragrance permeated the entire surroundings, capturing everything visible and tangible, as if it had taken its time to linger and spread throughout every corner.
*Ting*
The sound of a drawer opening was the signal indicating where her prey was. Thirsty and dilated eyes slowly wandered towards the kitchen. With stealth and precision, she used all her senses to remain fully alert. She could simply burst in and tear apart her prey, but she really had no desire to clean her clothes of blood, not to mention her urge to take it out on something she had.
In a anticipatory quadrupedal stance, the bloodlust slowly became apparent in the hellhound. She forced herself not to growl to avoid making noise. Eventually, she found the kitchen door ajar, allowing a thin beam of light and a shadow that was gradually cutting through, as if someone were walking through it.
Prepared for the assault, Loona peeked through the door, discovering the source of the intriguing aroma and her prey turned away, as if asking to be taken out without hesitation. Smirking at this, the hellhound opened the door enough to enter and prepared to pounce.
Her claws sank into the floor, ready for the attack, and despite her preparation, the wood seemed to emit a squeak just as she was about to move, alerting the intruder.
And there he was, the intruder who quickly turned around upon hearing the creaking of the wood, initiating a meeting between golden eyes and bloodthirsty red ones. However, to Loona's surprise, those golden eyes did not reflect fear in response to the hellhound's attitude or her growls, only confusion.
Upon closer inspection, Loona noticed a completely white book in his hands, and before she could react, she was completely frozen. As if she were a deer finding the headlights of a car in the dark hours of the night..
Without delay, the white-haired individual flashed her a smile in a standard greeting, as if it were a welcome, and for some reason she couldn't comprehend, this only stirred even more confusion in Loona, so much confusion that it forced her to quickly stand up as she saw her prey take a step forward.
A grave mistake.
"Hi-"
*Thuck*
"FUCK."
The hellhound's skull echoed hollowly upon impacting the door frame. Loona, the aforementioned, only responded with curses as a justified reaction while inspecting the point of impact. She quickly refocused her attention on the person in front of her, who was approaching slowly.
"Are you okay?" with a genuinely concerned tone, Isaac halted his movements upon noticing and understanding the growls and threatening gaze of the hellhound.
"N-, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK?, wait, WHO THE IN THE FUCK ARE YOUuuuuuuu?" The angry shouts faded away as that gaze slowly felt the undermining of past memories, forcing recollections that she had ignored as she usually does with everything.
Staring with a dazed look at the poor boy who didn't understand the situation, Loona's memories finally seemed to fluctuate correctly, at least enough for her to remember how the hell this situation happened and why she shouldn't gut the bastard in front of her.
Blitz set aside his fork; his gaze remained focused on his daughter as he recalled the news he had to deliver, one that would probably result in his daughter throwing him off the building she's currently in, that's why he ended up taking all the sharp objects out of her reach, and even then, he wasn't sure.
"and then moxxie was almost killed by some seagulls!, eh-, ohhh, yes, now that I remember, we have a new temporary addition to the I.M.P!" Blitz's voice resonated uncomfortably throughout the house as he picked up his fork to continue eating nervously, still awaiting his daughter's response and preparing in advance to dodge any utensils within reach.
"What?" His non-daughter lifted her gaze from her phone with a raised eyebrow in confusion as she responded to her father without understanding what he had said, causing Blitz to be on the verge of repeating his words.
"You know what, I don't care." But the quasi-daughter denied it, setting the dinner plates aside and returning to using her phone to contact the person overseeing her "Mock-a-Moxx" application. A fact that interested her more than this.
But for Blitz, this was different. Breathing a sigh of relief upon hearing his daughter's response, the little devil got up from the table and started clearing the empty plates with a smile.
At least he had perfectly informed his dear daughter about his DAMN STUPID DECISION, and she didn't seem to care.
"BLITZ I DAMN YOU SO-" Loona quickly dismissed her words as one hand rubbed her face in frustration, while the other was used to hold onto the door frame.
"I should pay more attention to the conversations..."
Shifting her focus to more crucial matters, Loona found herself in the same situation again. With an annoyed sigh, she carefully examined Isaac from head to toe. Now remembering how she saw him yesterday,
She thought she had seen him in blood-stained clothes before. Additionally, she noticed the absence of the chain Blitz had used to annoy Moxxie the night before.
And upon closer observation, why did he have longer hair than yesterday? How the hell did that go unnoticed?
"You look different..." Without realizing her own words, Loona got straight to the point she was thinking, while increasingly glaring at the cause of her insomnia.
"Huh... yeah?"
...
'¿¡What kind of stupid way to start a conversation is that!?'
"You know what, screw this, screw you, and fuck off, don't even fucking come close to me. AND IF I SEE YOU DOING ANY WEIRD SHIT, I'LL KILL YOU!" The situation far exceeded the mental energy Loona had accumulated after not sleeping for over a day, and the blow to her head didn't help her mood at all, something easy to notice in her attitude.
Without waiting any longer, she quickly left the place, not without giving a last sidelong glance to the new 'addition to the family' that Blitz had recently brought, or rather, someone who would probably serve to annoy her more, like almost everything in this company. The fact that the white-haired guy gave her an apologetic look for the situation didn't help at all.
"Damn Blitz and his chaotic personality that always attracts weirdos."
Isaac looked at the door with confusion as he heard a fading murmur.
...
Not knowing how to react, the sound of his stomach reminded him why he was in that place and what he was about to do before being interrupted.
"At least she didn't try to kill me..." were words of consolation spoken to himself in the midst of uncertainty as he reflected on his recent encounter. He would swear he was on the verge of being murdered moments ago.
Among all the things in hell, not being attempted to be killed is probably equivalent to someone telling you that you're an acquaintance, or that you're simply not worth confronting.
So... a new acquaintance, I suppose?
But returning his attention to hunger, Isaac didn't take long to direct his eyes to the book resting on the counter, next to the refrigerator, which he had momentarily left while trying to help the hellhound.
...
Maybe he should stop referring to her as a hellhound. If he remembered correctly, the closest thing he knew to her name was Loony, and her reaction when Blitz called her that was... peculiar, to say the least.
Returning to the main topic, his hands slid carefully over the book, feeling the smoothness of the cover. Eventually, he found the introduction once he opened the book to its first page.
'I had a life of misery like all of hell, and I did regrettable things, like all of hell. Originally, this was supposed to be a guide, but it ended up being nothing more than a weapon. In the end, in hell itself, I still regret my greatest creation, and for no clear reason, I will only write this to laugh at my own irony while burning in hell. A cookbook about the anarchist in hell, how stupid does that sound?'
...
Isaac let out a sigh of sadness as he slowly read the book, assuming this was the story of the creator of that previous book that ended up in the possession of a 5-year-old. His mother always hated the book, but she didn't care about its content; she probably hated that his father had won it in a poker game.
It was a book he was thankful his mother had taken away from him. But apparently, this book didn't follow the same path as the previous one. Flipping through as many pages as possible, he soon realized that the book was only filled with scattered recipes, and fortunately, only cooking recipes, along with advice behind each one.
The book was clear about its content, but what intrigued him was not that. What intrigued him was how this book appeared out of nowhere at the same time Anim ravaged and the crown of thorns disappeared, and at the same time his clothes were... cleaned, so to speak, it reminded him a bit of the -Eden- effect.
He would have continued pondering these frivolous matters if it weren't for the hunger that was beginning to set in, combined with the sleep that plagued him. The most logical option seemed to be to try to satisfy his hunger!
With an idea in mind, the refrigerator door opened, revealing a mess of scattered food. He found something that interested him, ultimately opting for apples as he filled his hands with them and closed the door with his shoulder.
Smiling at the rich aroma they emitted (somewhat contradictory considering they were in hell...), he left them on the counter. However, he couldn't help but glance sideways at the white-covered book he had been reading moments ago, with evident curiosity about its origin.
Thinking about his options, a vague idea formed in his mind, and he had nothing to lose by trying anyway.
"The Anarchist's Cookbook," his voice echoed loudly in the emptiness, showing a certain excitement. He eagerly observed the open book on the table, expecting something "magical."
...
'Curious,' he thought as he took the book once he accepted that no page would appear out of nowhere.
With some uncertainty, Isaac began to examine hundreds of recipes. However, he already knew the type of recipe he needed, so he just skimmed through them until he found something that could serve him at that moment.
Though he was somewhat preoccupied, he didn't hesitate to question why the book hadn't revealed anything when he said its name. A piece of paper appeared when he mentioned "anima sola." Perhaps the name he said didn't correspond to the object?
Apparently, it didn't work as he thought, something strangely exciting, if he were honest. He had reached a point in the basement where it became entertaining to unlock more things over time, even though he didn't like to admit it, it had its certain... "charm," and this reminded him a bit of that!
"Apple pie," his eyes lit up when he found something 'accessible' for his current resources. Observing the necessary ingredients on the list along with the exact procedure, he took the opportunity to search and gather various items from the kitchen while holding the book open in one hand.
Finding this slightly entertaining for some reason, he didn't take long to get everything he needed. In a matter of seconds, Isaac was about to cook for the first time in his life.
...
'Second time.'
Just as he did until now, Isaac ignored the words of his own mind and didn't let his smile falter even for a second, focusing on the recipe to escape those thoughts. In the end, he came across the next step: he needed to cut the apples into slices.
Something simple, he supposed, at least until he could only find knives and bloodstained blades around the kitchen. Honestly, he didn't expect that it would end up being more complicated to find one that wasn't completely blood-soaked than finding a knife.
But with a relentless search, and after turning the entire kitchen upside down, he eventually managed to find a completely clean kitchen knife stored in a drawer.
With said edge in hand, the tips of his fingers slid slowly over the knife's handle in a nostalgic manner, recalling the hundreds of times he had held one in his hands. The clear difference now was that he could manipulate it with just one hand, like such a simple and diminutive object, and that was enough for him.
The knife rose, and in the same way, an apple did too, appearing so similar to each other that they would force a union that would result in three. Unfortunately, this union was going to be an impossible occurrence.
After all, the knife never moved, as Isaac's body remained completely still as if he were a statue, at least a smiling one, not trying to hide what he felt. Certainly, he would admit that even he didn't know exactly why he couldn't move the knife. It seemed to be an enigma, something slowly revealing to him that maybe his problem didn't exactly lie with the knife or the apple.
The knife's edge felt nonexistent, or rather, its strength was. Staring at the edge for a few seconds, he eventually caught his own reflection, something insignificant but that allowed him to remember one of the many memories of his life.
It wasn't anything complex or strange. He had simply tried to cook something due to the hunger he had. His mother found him and locked him in the cupboard for even attempting to go against her principles. Like so many times, she probably locked him up because she hated him, not for trying to cook.
He wondered how she would be. Has she found his body yet? Has she changed after that, or will she remain the same? He didn't like thinking about her much; it made him feel lesser. It reminded him of a time he would like to relive, but with this improved version of himself, maybe he could have made her change her mind or maybe he just knew that she couldn't do anything to him with a body like this.
'You won't become better; you already are. You have nothing to change. Now you are Isaac, a pure and likable boy, and after this, you will still be the same boy, just... You'll have things clearer.'
this is-, no, that's not something that really matters. She's no longer there, and the knife, this time, was in his hand, not his mother's. Despite knowing that, the knife didn't move, but doubts continued to move behind his eyes. Fear didn't plant itself upon him as such; maybe discomfort could be what...
"What the hell are you doing standing there?" Without even moving his eyes from the knife, his body took a few moments to slowly turn to face a hellhound standing in the doorway, staring at him with a distrustful look. He also noticed that she wasn't exactly angry, so he passed the insult as part of her attitude.
'I guess she's Blitz's daughter after all,' dryly thought Isaac as he saw some similarities between the hellhound's attitude and Blitz, a look that the aforementioned did not appreciate in the slightest.
In his attempt to avoid misunderstandings, Isaac adopted a direct, stripped-down sincerity when addressing the hellhound. The voice that had previously resonated with joviality now revealed itself to be simple and devoid of artifice, a thing that Loona could notice.
"Cutting an apple?"
...
"So, then cut it." One eyebrow arched in confusion as the person in front of her remained motionless, not moving a single muscle, focusing his eyes alternately on the apple and the knife in his hands, as if ignoring it.
"I think... I can't." Feeling finally some embarrassment for his behavior, Isaac averted his gaze from the things he held in his hands. Eventually, his eyes met Loona's, establishing an uncomfortable silence.
...
Loona simply pinched the bridge of her nose while grumbling irritably. "Is this some kind of stupid joke?" she bluntly expressed, watching as those eyes looked at her with doubt, as if she could perceive what he felt only through those golden pools, nothing more than a stagnant river of divinity, as if it were the very pond of the ed-
What the hell was she thinking?
"Wh- no, I just..." Isaac looked away from the hellhound again, bewildered by her sudden confusion. Still, he didn't understand why Loona made such a big deal out of it after asking him not to bother her.
And unnoticed by Isaac, the strength in his hands slowly shifted from a nervous grip to a calm one, a gratifying change he wasn't aware of, prompted by a simple reason.
"ugh, let me have a try, fucking traumatized to the point of not being able to cut an apple, Or fucking useless to the point of not being able to use a knife?" With irritation in her voice, Loona leaned against the door, mocking Isaac without showing the curiosity she truly felt about how he would react to her insensitive attitude, .
"How th-" unable to find words, Isaac simply looked at the hellhound, even more confused. Although it wasn't exactly as she had said, it was pretty close to what was probably happening to him.
"How the hell did I know? You strike me more as the kind of person life screw over, rather than someone who screws over others in life, to the extent that you can't even pick up a simple knife to cut an apple" speaking venomously, Loona awaited some aggressive attempt in a way of reaction from Isaac, Although she was only testing him with situations that were recurring in the kennel, she would not admit it, but she was somewhat curious about his reaction to this mockery.
"I suppose you're right." Isaac's eyes returned to the apple, anticipating what it was, although he still found it difficult to cut despite its apparent simplicity.
Above all, he felt childish for behaving this way. Neither angels, demons, nor sinners could defeat him, but a simple apple prevented him from cutting it?
"Ugh, if you're not going to do anything, just put that damn knife aside—" The hellhound's annoying words were interrupted in the same way the apple was being cut.
*Sling*
...
The knife descended through the entire apple and stopped over his hand perfectly, as flawless as the way the apple split in half cleanly, as if it had been a perfect angle, something Loona couldn't notice due to the distance, but became clear when Isaac's smile rose unprecedentedly.
*Sling*
And again, the apple was cut at a perfect angle, giving 4 completely equal sides, and with another cut, that quarter became an eighth.
The knife was light, so light that he could barely feel it, in the same way he felt no resistance while slicing the apple. However, he still perceived it, and above all, he could control it, move it effortlessly at will, from top to bottom, from the sides. He could simply cut the apple however he wanted.
And so he did, slicing all the apples within reach as if he were an automatic machine.
All perfectly, leaving an extensive group of apples that were massacred completely asymmetrically by the hands of this sinner.
And just as he surprised himself, so did the hellhound. Without showing the insecurity she felt approaching a sinner with a knife, Loona walked slowly to where the slices were, observing how they were cut. It didn't take long for her to take one and devour it while quickly snatching the knife from Isaac's hands.
"Well, look at that, it seems you know how to use a knife at least a little, BUT DON'T EVER TAKE ONE FROM THIS SHIT PLACE AGAIN, UNDERSTOOD?" The shouts echoed clearly, leaving her words imprinted on Isaac. The previously snatched knife was plunged into the wood until it was buried. With that done, the hellhound wasted no time in leaving, not without taking a couple more slices and tossing them into her mouth as she exited the kitchen.
...
"Okay..."
…
Confused eyes explored the room that had suddenly become so silent. It wasn't what he expected, but he found himself in overwhelming silence, so quiet that it didn't seem like he had been threatened just 10 seconds ago.
Still, he marveled at his work, which remained scattered on the countertop: slices completely asymmetrical, so beautiful that they made his stomach growl. He didn't hesitate to take some and prepare to continue with what he was doing.
He quickly followed the steps to the letter, as they were in the book, from preparing everything to preheating the oven to 180°C (fortunately, he had found a box of matches, It was that or a flamethrower, he'd really like to be playing).
For some reason, there was also a pie mold in one of the drawers, along with some cake molds; he should remember that for the future.
Following the recipe, Isaac rolled out the dough in the mold, feeling that it was simple. He simply wondered the hundreds of doubts in his head to pass the time, especially doubts about this kind of place.
From how this place remained standing, to the fact that it had water and gas despite being hell, that in itself was good. But he was ignoring the fact that a corporate building had an oven and a refrigerator; he wondered how the hell Blitz managed to get this place so big anyway.
Maybe he should hold IMP in higher esteem...
The fridge opened again, this time, a bit unsure, he rummaged through the place, but still too hungry, he risked taking a piece of slightly melted butter at the bottom of the fridge, as if it were a radioactive product guarded from touch.
With everything now prepared inside the pie, he closed the dough as mentioned in the book, with some final holes made to... allow the steam to escape?
At least that's what the book said.
And with his work finally done, proudly, it was locked in the oven to bake.
For 5 minutes.
For 15 minutes.
For...
Um, he had overlooked the small detail that something takes time to cook, and not a specifically short time (at least for his stomach, he hadn't eaten anything in years, literally).
The place was filled with the comforting aroma of apples cooking, although that didn't make the task any easier at all; at least, it smelled good. Luckily, he had "that book" to distract himself for a while, and he doubted he would have been able to do something as simple as cooking without instructions.
'Speaking of the cookbook...'
With nothing else to do, Isaac sat on the counter next to the fridge and stared at the book out of the corner of his eye with some uncertainty, still remembering his previous attempts. Now seemed like the perfect time to distract himself again.
"The Anarchist's Cookbook... 2?" Holding a hint of doubt in his voice for the time it took to finish it, Isaac simply fell silent, until he realized that nothing would happen by expressing those words.
Another attempt will be...
"The Anarchist's Kitchen?"
...
"Cooking with the Anarchist!"
...
"That's as far as my creativity goes." An annoyed sigh escaped his mouth as he sat on the countertop, staring at the book for a few seconds. Finally, he pouted in frustration for being unable to think of any other name for the book. It wasn't his fault to be so tired to think of names!
With no more ideas, he turned to a part of the text he had read before.
"The Anarchist's Cookbook in Hell...?"
...
Neither is that.
...
Wait, could it be? Isaac saw it unlikely to be such a... Standard name, but still, he had nothing to lose by trying.
"The Anarchist's Cookbook: Hell Edition!"
...
A glimmer began to rekindle out of nowhere, and Isaac simply laughed triumphantly as he descended from the countertop to take a completely blank sheet with some oil stains on it. Although he was curious to read it, he couldn't help but notice that the sheet appeared depending on the distance he had from the floor when it was on the countertop."
The Anarchist Cookbook: Infernal Edition
"Just a simple infernal cookbook"
Item: Inactive
"It's the Cook in hell, not the cook like hell."
It was... what he supposed it was, he honestly was just experimenting while bored, but still, it proved to be interesting enough to fold the paper and tuck it into his pockets for later.
Considering leaving it in his room so as not to lose the sheet, he was forced to pause when a warm aroma captivated his mind. The fixed scent of reheated apples calmed his soul, plunging him into a perpetual trance by such a rich aroma after smelling things... not so pleasant, but this one was so exquisite that it seemed to burn his body with satisfaction.
And he was about to burn it for real if he didn't turn off the oven!
Without caution, the oven opened fully, releasing an enlightening aroma that saturated his being with happiness. And smoke that slammed against his face without warning, causing him to step back a bit. Slowly, he extracted the tray with the apple pie, overwhelmed by his senses. The tray rose above his arms towards the sky as if it were a trophy while he gazed at that intense golden glow.
A crucial moment in the story of his life, so significant that he forgot the small detail that he didn't have gloves and was holding a hot tray. Fortunately, his body seemed to realize it first, so he quickly set the tray aside while waiting for it to cool a bit.
Sighing at the foolishness he had just committed, he quickly realized that he had no marks on his hands, and the tray didn't feel that hot either. With some hesitation and care, his hands removed the pie and gracefully placed it on a plate, emanating an exhausting golden glow and an even more captivating aroma.
And...
He has nothing to cut it with.
Well, if he ignored the knife stuck in the wood a few inches from the board, of course. He could just take it out; with a little time, he had gained some confidence in his strength, but his doubt was more focused on the hellhound and her words.
He wasn't exactly afraid of her, but she still was the equivalent of a taller werewolf than him, with apparent temperamental issues, if he were honest...
'Plus being Blitz's "daughter," as weird as that sounds,'
the voice in the back of his mind whispered words that quite backed up his decision to NOT go against the warnings (threats) of said hellhound, not to mention how he should also set aside any oddities related to Blitz and Loona if he doesn't want to be... ugh, at this point, he doesn't even know what could happen to him.
And the last thing he wanted was to get on bad terms with... the hellhound?
...
Seriously, he should ask for her name.
And without waiting any longer, Isaac was currently using all his mental strength to convince himself that he would interact with a completely unknown person who could perfectly bite his stomach off (don't blame him, that almost happened more than once while he was with Blitz).
With an idea in mind, he took the apple pie in his arms and headed to his destination with a confident smile. He had dethroned Satan himself thousands of times (not exactly), he could do something as simple as talking to a person like Loona!
...
Loona was bored, too much, fucking bored.
"Mock-a-moxx" was becoming repetitive, for now at least, and the fact that there was a stranger in the kitchen with possible weapons didn't help at all.
Another thing that didn't help was that she overheard her non-father's conversation with the whitish guy. She was just about to bail when she heard... well, when some impacts were heard on the desk. It was Blitz, wouldn't be surprising, but in the end, it turned out that her dad had indebted himself to a guy who arrived in hell in less than 2 hours!
She couldn't make that shit up!
Ugh, the hellhound's hands cradled her phone monotonously on her chest as she watched the place bored and annoyed. TOO ANNOYED. Why the hell did her father have to keep being so damn unpredictable to the point of bringing a random sinner to the building and leaving him completely alone?
Moreover, that guy acted as if he were so innocent and calm. Does he really think the act of begging for sympathy would work in a place like this? "Oh, I'm so good and calm, please, be nice to me." He reminded her of... ugh.
Moxxie was literally so shit that they came up with Moxxie 2. At least Moxxie 1 does seem slightly dangerous.
'Irritated, Loona could barely suppress a yawn as she realized her recent action.
"I just praised Moxxie 1 while insulting Moxxie 2," she muttered, the only words her bored mind could articulate to pass the time. Fortunately, her monotony was interrupted when her ears detected approaching footsteps. Acting as if she was unaware of the person approaching,
she remained unperturbed in her position, seemingly uninterested. She even ignored the growl of her stomach at the tempting aroma of what seemed to be a deliciously edible apple pie (not her fault for not eating in hours).
...
"the fuck do you want?" Without averting her gaze from the ceiling, Loona glanced sideways at the white-haired guy approaching with an uncomfortable smile and an apple pie in his hands. Now that she saw it clearly, it reminded her of a prey giving itself as a sacrifice.
Isaac, on the other hand, completely forgot his strategy for the conversation, opening and closing his mouth without finding the words. This plunged the room into an awkward silence between two individuals lacking a previous basis for interaction.
"You... said I couldn't take any knives and nee-" Isaac interrupted himself realizing he was expressing something logical but entirely absurd, which didn't seem stupid to him until he spoke it out loud.
His mouth closed, falling silent as his gaze wandered, not knowing how to get out of the situation. In response, Loona couldn't help but focus her attention on the apple pie, something Isaac fortunately didn't notice, but it wouldn't be long before his stomach emitted a hungry growl.
And that was something she had to avoid at all costs!
"Give me that, you piece of...". With aggression, she snatched the pie from Isaac's hands, growling at its warmth. She used one of her claws to divide it into eight portions, producing a clear crunch in the crust and the apple slices arranged precisely. Deliberately ignoring how tempting it looked, Loona took a portion without asking and devoured it without caring about how hot it was.
While Isaac smiled at this, he took the pie tray again and sat next to Loona on the couch, something Loona would have tried to avoid if it weren't for having to turn her face in an attempt to hide her expression while eating the pie so hot, and the fact that it tasted overly good didn't help!
'The bastard can cook well.' For some reason, this statement irritated her even more, although she couldn't show it as she continued to chew on that delight, at least by the depressing standards of hell.
The aroma of the pie permeated the air the same way the smell of blood seeped through the walls, a combination that strangely comforted Loona. But even if she tried to ignore it, there was another scent in the room, one that stood out above the others.
'His scent.'
It was unique. Usually, the bastards newly arrived in hell emitted a HORRIBLE smell, but in such a distinctive way that even someone with a common sense of smell could perceive it. But... this sinner's scent was not like the others, and that unsettled her. Especially when she realized she didn't pick up on this fragrance the first time she encountered him.
Thus, Loona had discovered a newcomer to hell who affected her senses just with his scent. He was staying at the IMP, had accumulated large sums of money shortly after arriving in hell, and she remembered he had the same chain that Blitz used to annoy Moxxie, which probably meant it belonged to him too.
And he knew how to cook.
Risk letting a completely suspicious person live just because he knew how to cook and helped annoy Moxxie?
Yes. There couldn't be a better start to a relationship, although she refused to admit it.
...
From the other side of the couch, Isaac took another bite of his pie, glancing at the hellhound with some curiosity about her identity (to which he still hadn't asked for her name).
It didn't take him much to realize that any interaction with her would lead nowhere and, moreover, could be slightly dangerous. So he simply stayed seated on the couch, looking into space as he enjoyed his pie in peace,
Which... had been a complete success! From the taste to the texture, everything was simply delicious.
It seemed that the hellhound next to him liked it too, which added points in his favor.
Although... The mere thought of saying that out loud filled him with a certain fear.
But setting aside trivial matters.
Now there was only one thing remaining...
Well.
Do something. The hunger wasn't as intense anymore, but the fatigue persisted, and no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't fall asleep without ending up reflecting on something absurd and senseless.
'You saved Blitz, but not him...'
Like this...
A grimace of disgust appeared on his face as he twisted on the couch, reliving the anguish and suffering of the person impaled by a spear in the chest. They collapsed before him, helpless, while Isaac, indifferent, continued on his way without offering assistance.
The contradiction in his behavior bothered him. Why didn't he save him? Why did he choose to ignore him, letting him perish? These questions troubled him too much, especially when reflecting on why he chose to save Blitz and not the abandoned demon. Where was the mistake? Save Blitz or not save that demon?
For some reason, he hesitated between saving them all or saving none, but what criteria should he follow to save only some? The unease persisted, especially when he worried more about not wanting to save him than the fact that he didn't.
But... Was it even worth saving demons at all? They were all despicable beings causing harm to others. Saving one would mean bearing the deaths that the demon could cause. Would he be responsible for the victims Blitz might leave in his wake? He was literally a hired killer, and he didn't even act only against other demons, but did he really care that Blitz was a hired killer, or was it simply the fact of being a demon that predisposed him to think that way?
"Fuck, dude, could you stop freaking out?" Unnoticed, Isaac's breathing had become irregular and heavy, an effect accompanied by the apparent agitation of his body, something that annoyed the hellhound without him noticing, observing him sideways without putting down her phone.
"Yeah, I... sorry, I was thinking about why I didn't save a demon that-" Isaac felt lost, so lost that he didn't realize the person he was talking to, a slightly bitter situation he noticed when a threatening growl came from his side; he could only open his eyes in surprise as a claw took hold of his jaw and moved him without care.
Face to face, Isaac met the gaze (and breath) of a seriously angry hellhound, with eyes holding only one thought in mind.
'I won't tolerate another damn moralist.'
"Listen to me for a damn second! I don't give a shit about any problems you have, and if you're going to have any problems, don't tell me about them! Got it? This is not the place for sentimentality..." Without saying another word, Loona let go of Isaac and returned to her phone, still annoyed to realize that this 'fragile' attitude didn't seem to be a facade and that he was literally that stupid, while Isaac slowly readjusted on the couch, remaining thoughtful at those words."
"Although there wasn't much room for reflection; after all, he was in hell, and only those destined to revel in your sorrows were worthy of attention. For a brief moment, he... forgot his whereabouts.
Loona simply observed this reaction, watching as his eyes got lost in melancholy, with those golden pools that seemed to flow without energy. She felt no remorse for her words, but she didn't keep absolute silence either. In a strange way, she felt she owed him the apple pie, at least that's what she told herself.
"This is hell, and you are a damn sinner. There are no second chances because they simply don't exist, but you can try living through all the crap you want. Whether it's indulging in any strange perversion that crosses your mind or whatever the hell you please..." For a brief moment, Loona lowered her phone, keeping her gaze on him, but more than anything, on the reflection of the device, finding her own eyes, eyes that were the last image for countless beings, be they imps, hellhounds, or even humans.
"Anyway, you're already dead. Everyone expects you to be miserable, and even if you're not, they'll treat you like one. Remember that because this is your existence from now on, and people are just repulsive... But that doesn't mean you can act however you want when you're here, understood!?" She shouted the last part aggressively. Despite her attempt to sound as pessimistic as possible, she was met with a surprised look, an expression she didn't expect after such words, and a golden pool that slowly regained its fluidity, while a smile began to appear.
Giving up on the idea that this individual would understand, Loona grabbed another piece of cake with a swipe, but this time, she began with a bite, deciding to savor it more thoroughly.
Although he didn't anticipate that reaction, Loona's words echoed identically in Isaac's mind. He had spoken to them himself. Not only did he forget the kind of place this was, but also what he was now supposed to be!
He's already dead, he's a sinner, he lost his chance, and now he's condemned to hell for eternity. There's nothing he can do to remedy it, so sad...
So, who cares if he saves anyone or not? Because he does care! A senseless thought, against the common sense of his new world, and yet, it's hell, he's a sinner, who cares!?
He has no reason to do it, he gains no benefit, but he simply enjoys it. From now on, with an indifferent smile on his face, Isaac will try to save as many people as possible because it pleases him! Not for the greater good, solely for the basic good of others.
And without forgetting to lack an apparent reason in his own actions!
Whether they are virtuous individuals or of dubious morality, he will judge later. He has no interest in redeeming anyone; he simply seeks to prevent further suffering for others. Why? Because he can! Because he wants to!
Does someone complain that he saved someone? He's not a sinner according to the words of an angel! But if someone complains that he didn't save someone, then he's a sinner and has no obligation to save anyone!
...
'That sounds irrelevantly stupid.'
Maybe... that's the reason why he loves that way of thinking so much.
"Can I... ask your name?" With some uncertainty due to the slightly volatile attitude of the individual sitting beside him, Isaac still dared to ask his question while taking another bite of his slice of apple pie, yawning a bit from the tiredness he felt as he slowly drifted into sleep.
Unaware of his sway, Isaac felt as if his own pupils weighed more than his nonexistent sins; his eyes closed peacefully as he ignored every noise or smell around him.
In the end, after falling into hell, having spent a day without rest until he could secure a new stay, no, even for a long time before he could enter the chest, finally, and quietly, Isaac had fallen asleep, hoping for a new world and not another nightmare upon waking, or at least that's what he thought.
His body slid slightly to Loona's side, who observed the situation sourly.
"Damn no!" Without care, she pushed Isaac to the other side of the couch with her elbow, and to her misfortune, he fell onto her tail without waking up. He hadn't crushed it completely, but he rested fully on it, to the point where she could feel his breath on it.
Feeling all her bloodlust suddenly return, her claws were about to stain her clothes with a bright and lethal liquid, but she never reached her goal.
"Loona... I know you don't care, but my name is Isaac, and... Thanks," were the only murmurs his voice could release before finally surrendering to the arms of Morpheus.
...
"FUCK"
Immediately, Loona cursed herself countless times as she retracted her movements and sat cross-armed, muttering angrily as she decided not to end the life of that sinner despite the insolence he was currently committing.
But the hellhound wouldn't be left behind... and she would take advantage of the situation as much as she could.
"Just so you know, your life is worth 4 pieces of apple pie," the hellhound spoke mockingly as she took what was left of the pie from Isaac's lap.
And before starting to devour her feast, she noticed the only portion Isaac was eating on the couch, half-eaten.
"Four portions, and a half."
There's not much to say, nothing to mention, just one more chapter, and I can start with the canon and interactions lolololol (Any suggestions for an arc or anything related to the story, contact me on Discord).
Fun Facts with As! (Story facts or future story ideas you might want to know, which may or may not be mentioned in the future, I don't know yet)
*The realization of what Isaac should do when it comes to others was initially something more "adult," so to speak, but I deleted it and decided to put something more childish. It's literally the equivalent of a child who thinks he's going against the system.
And I think this would already complete the part of Isaac's personality when it comes to hell. There was no one who could stop him, but that didn't mean he would do anything since he still didn't know what to do.
But he ended up deciding to try to save everyone while living the life he wants to live. It's a complex issue due to imposed morality by others and self-imposed, and Isaac doesn't have time for that, so he just threw everything to the wind and took on a childish attitude about it. He has been through a lot; the last thing he needs is to have a mental breakdown for not being able to save others or doubting it.
I still love how he looks completely stupid and contradictory. It's something totally childish, and that's why the more "mature" cut was preferred.
*Honestly, I don't know how well Loona's attitude is. The simple fact of not having killed Isaac at first sight is probably out of character, so I'll go with what feels comfortable.
*It's irrelevant, but there's a scene I didn't write about the inability to get a therapist because they always confuse them with a therapist.
Next chapter 11/02
P a treon . com (slash) Asofcookies