Arriving at 1216 Franklin Avenue, Sam immediately came to face-to-face with a barrage of police cruisers and reporters' vans outside the Loud Residence. Backing her car up into Mr. Grouse's parkway (careful not to scratch his own car), she grabbed the bag of guns and other weapons and snuck her way to her girlfriend's house though his backyard, not minding the fight breaking out between the two groups as she did so. Eventually making her way to the Loud House's backyard, she climbed over the fence and rushed over to the door leading to the kitchen before stopping to make sure the coast was clear. After she did and when it was, she knocked soft enough to not attract any unwanted attention but hard enough for anyone in the Loud House to hear. A few minutes later, a teary-eyed Mrs. Loud answered the door and came face-to-face with her.

"S-Sam?"

"Mrs. Loud. Are...are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Rita wiped away any remaining tears as Sam could only offer a comforting smile and a shoulder pat of reassurance.

"It's not your fault, Mrs. Loud."

"Yes, it is, Sam. I...I was an idiot to believe my only son was bad luck. I was an idiot to lock him out of the house when I should've listened to him."

Sam's smile faltered a little when Mrs. Loud mentioned those two little details.

Okay... I was not expecting that...but I also wasn't expecting living and breathing demons to walk the Earth, so what else is new?

"Yes, you should've...but what you or Lincoln did doesn't matter right now. What does matter is that Lincoln will be found and you'll have a chance to make amends. Lincoln's a smart kid, and...he couldn't have gotten that far."

Rita gave Sam's words a thought before nodding, "You're right. I just hope...we find him in time."

At that moment, Luna came downstairs and entered the kitchen for something to eat. Spotting Sam from over her mother's shoulder, she blushed and her appetite...only intensified.

"S-Sam?"

"Hey, Luna," Sam smiled awkwardly and entered inside as she carried her bag, "I brought my...sleepover pack."

"Right. Sleepover," Luna chuckled in the same awkward style and turned to her mom for assistance.

"I'll leave you two at it," Rita merely nodded in understanding as she walked away, presumably to conduct an impromptu interrogation with the officers about to enter after Sam.

"Sam...thank you for coming. I..."

"We're not there yet. I'm doing this for Lincoln at the moment."

Luna bit her lip in somber disappointment, but nonetheless nodded, "Right. And...about what I said on the phone..."

"I don't know what you saw," Sam shook her head, "and frankly, neither will I until I do so for myself. Let's just see what we're up against before we jump to conclusions, okay?"

"Right. This way, I guess."

Hoisting her duffel bag over her shoulder, Sam followed Luna upstairs to Lisa's room, where the four-year-old child prodigy herself was waiting alongside her six-year-old goth sister.

"What are Lisa and Lucy doing here?"

"I told them about the footage and figured that they would know this more than me," Luna explained as she closed and locked the door behind her at the same time Lucy sighed remorsefully.

"But they're younger than you...?"

"Age is just a number, Miss Sharp," Lisa deadpanned before sighing as well, "and even then, I'm still uncertain of the footage I saw because of my limited knowledge of the paranormal and supernatural."

Lucy gently interjected, "I, on the other hand, well... I never expected something like this before to actually happen."

Sam nodded in understanding and set her bag down, "Alright then. Let me see."

As Lisa played the footage for Sam, a frown grew as her eyes narrowed in scrutiny. Watching the wolf-like "demon" conjure a portal for three others to enter, she eventually turned tail after picking up a scent, tracing it back to an unconscious Lincoln laying on a park bench. Inspecting him for a moment, she did not think twice before gently picking him up and carrying him back to the portal with them. Lisa then paused the footage and turned along with Luna and Lucy to face Sam, who delved deep into a state of contemplation.

"Do you believe in us now?" Luna asked hopefully.

"For the most part," Sam shrugged in response, "but we need actual proof. If we went to the police with this, they'll just pass it off as a million-dollar high school film project or even arrest us for obstruction of justice."

"And even if we were to go to the police department with this "evidence"," Lisa concurred, "they would not buy the claim of living demons for even a split second."

"So we're on our own?" Luna sighed.

"For now," Lisa reassured, "Miss Sharp is right. We need physical evidence of these demons."

"And any proof if these demons are actually evil, right?" Lucy turned to Lisa.

"What do you mean, Luce?" Luna looked personally offended by the question, "They're demons. You saw the footage for yourself."

"Yes, I did, Luna," Lucy frowned, "but you saw them before me. And if you had noticed in the footage..."

Lucy rewinded to the part where the wolf-like demon confronted the unconscious Lincoln, "This hellhound could've killed Lincoln when she had the chance. But she didn't."

"So you're deciding that this...hellhound is on the good side based solely on a "What-If?" decision?" Luna frowned.

"That's not what I'm saying, Luna," Lucy sighed, this time in frustration, before Lisa intervened.

"Perhaps what Lucy is suggesting is that we need to consider our next course of action before we jump to the wrong conclusion and further damage our already strained relationship with Lincoln. Consider that if these demons are actually on the side of good, we need to meet with them in a peaceful manner as to not infuriate them. And if this is false, we could plot a negotiation with them, persuade them to spare Lincoln should they try to swim unsavory waters with him."

Unlike Luna and Lucy, Sam was surprised that Lisa actually thought their next course of action through. Sparing a glance at her duffel bag, she chuckled out of pure amusement.

"Then it's probably a good thing that I brought this along with me, huh?"

Following her gaze to the bag, Luna's frown softened somewhat but otherwise remained, "What? Your sleepover pack?"

"Oh, no," Sam shook before explaining herself, "I just said that to withdraw suspicion from myself."

Crouching down to unzip the bag, Sam produced and carefully handed a 3rd Generation Glock 17 to Luna, who gasped alongside her younger sisters as she gently took it.

"You brought a gun?"

"I brought a lot of guns, Luna," Sam eventually took out a SIG-Sauer P226R and Mossberg 500 Persuader, laying them on the bed for her to inspect. This prompted Luna to peer into the bag for herself, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Jesus, Sam! Did you bring the entire police department armory with you?"

"Quiet!" Sam hushed her, "My dad's a police officer with the Huntington Oaks Police Department, so he trains me in the emergency of a serial killer or serial killers. Plus, it wasn't easy getting these here; I almost got caught."

"Is that why I saw you in the backyard talking to my mom?"

"Yes, I was just about to talk to you about that," Sam's facial expression hardening, Luna fully aware of where this conversation was going, "Why didn't you tell me you locked Lincoln...your only brother...out of the house?"

"It was my parents' decision," Luna tried to explain, "They only wanted to teach him a lesson."

"That still doesn't excuse you from the fact that you failed to stand up for him," Sam scowled at her as she continued to dig through the bag, "You and the rest of your sisters."

"Why do you think I called you, Sam? You're the only person I can trust right now."

"Not even your own family?"

Luna's eyes widened as she turned to face Lisa and Lucy. The former's face still consisted of that same stoic expression, but her eyes gave way to grave disappointment. The latter's face...well, it looked as if she was brutally stabbed in the heart, which was then ripped out without remorse. Realizing her very poor choice of words, Luna's own hardened expression softened before she walked to them.

"Lucy, Lisa... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"We know what you meant," The latter nodded in understanding before adding, "It does not mean that it was any less painful for us to process."

Sam then reached for a 3rd Generation Glock 19 and a two-tone SIG-Sauer P229R, checking their ammunition and sights as she continued talking to Luna.

"Luna... You can make this right. You just have to do the work."

Luna herself nodded once more before reaching for the Glock 17, examining it carefully.

"Is there any place where...we could train?"

"I was thinking in the woods near my house," Sam suggested, "My dad knows that I usually shoot targets there."

"Okay then. Wait, are we leaving right now?"

"No, of course not, because of two things: one, the police and the reporters are still outside awaiting a story to tell, and two, as far as your mom is concerned, the both of us are having a sleepover. Plus, even if I did want a sleepover...these are the only clothes I have."

Sam elicited a blush while admitting this, a blush that Luna reciprocated and Lisa noticed with disdain.

"If the conversation is beginning to shift to that of coitus, please converse outside the room."

"Sorry, Lisa," Luna and Sam hastily apologized as the former turned to the latter and asked,

"So what? We just wait?"

"We just wait..."

BOOM!

Maria was...conflicted, to say the least.

BOOM!

On one hand, she had enough problems to deal with that involved children and placing one more for her to handle was just too much for her to handle. The fact that the child in question was a human child was merely the cherry on top.

BOOM!

On the other hand, the child in question was not unruly like many of the others, but rather obedient and humble enough to respect her. By her own admissions, he was an absolute sweetheart...one with a sinister dark side aching to be unleashed at the slightest offense. A potential third conflict about to rise was the implication that he subtly reminded her too much of herself. Specifically, when she was alive, she had something resembling a mental instability that plagued her, something that she wore beneath the mask of a perfectly normal nice girl. When she died, that something grew exponentially upon her arrival in Hell; this ironically led to her more mentally stable nature during her time here and there. In short, she had a very bad temper in life, one that mellowed out only in death.

BOOM!

She was a good person. She was good her entire life. And yet...one measly massacre propelled by blind rage was enough to earn a one-way ticket to Hell.

BOOM!

Aiming her Remington 870 at one of the many testing dummies (and one of the few still standing), Maria pulled the trigger only to be met with a click. Cursing to herself, she loaded six shells before pumping the fore-end.

BANG!

However, she had little to no time to pull the trigger as, when she found out as she turned around, Lincoln was up and about wielding a 3rd Generation Glock 17, one of the pistols laid out on the weapons table. One of the pistols he used to put a hole into the head of the training dummy she was supposed to shoot. Realizing what he had done, he blushed and smiled awkwardly.

"Uh... Sorry about that. How did I do?"

Glancing back and forth between the training dummy and Lincoln, Maria eventually smiled warmly as she cautiously approached him.

"Not bad, Lincoln. But I think you can do better."

Walking over to the weapons table and taking up a SIG-Sauer P226R, Maria loaded a high-capacity, double-stack magazine and checked the sights before taking aim. She then pulled the trigger and fired a total of five bullets at the training dummies. Encouraging Lincoln with a small head gesture to follow through, the young boy mustered more strength to mirror her actions. They both eventually opened fire in unison and worked together to take down the training dummies until none were left standing.

Lincoln eventually scored a headshot, causing him

"Yeah! I did it!" Lincoln cheered.

"Yes, you did!" Mrs. Mayberry smiled in pride.

Without thinking, Lincoln lunged forward and hugged Mrs. Mayberry, who was just as surprised as he presumably was at the action. However, if they were unfazed before, they were undoubtedly now at the words spoken afterwards.

"Thank you, Mom..."

For a moment, the demonic Earth stood still as silence filled the air. The word was not supposed to act as a trigger for Mrs. Mayberry, but for some reason, it was at the moment. Frozen in her spot, she slowly glanced down to face an embarrassed Lincoln, who had realized what he said just now.

"Uh...I'm sorry..." Lincoln awkwardly pulled away, "I mean... "

Lincoln had no chance to apologize due to Mrs. Mayberry pulling him back into the hug and ran her hand through his hair.

"You're welcome, Lincoln."

A moment passed, and Lincoln's smile returned as he slowly returned the embrace and softly leaned his head into her chest. It had been almost a full month at the most since he made himself at home in Hell, the most unlikely and unexpected of normal residences. However, in a twisted sense of irony, he found himself more at home in the land of the dead than in the land of the living. He found two cool uncles, one badass aunt, one awesome older sister, and one wonderful...mother figure.

It was a weird feeling, calling a woman he barely knew his mother. He should have felt ashamed, considering he was essentially replacing his biological maternal figure. The thing was, though, that same biological maternal figure joined in with the rest of his family in deeming him a bad luck jinx and locking him outside of the house out of fear of "spreading the contagion".

He never felt safe or comfortable at home, at school, or at anywhere else. He harbored some gratitude for his small group of friends (including Clyde and Stella) and a select few classmates for lending some support, especially in comparison to the majority led by Chandler, who inflicted upon him nothing but mockery and contempt. The fact that he considered himself a stranger in his own home by his own family, however, was what stung the most for him; not even they wanted him around as far as he knew.

So this was...a considerably nice change of pace.

A pleasant diversion.

A proper calm before the storm.

"Where do you think he is? Heaven...or Hell?"

. . .

"Who knows?"

. . .

He awoke to the sound of two things: a voice calling for him...

BANG!

...and a gunshot.

When he came to, he found himself on the rooftop of a building, which was damaged beyond repair. This was a pattern emulated by the many others he saw in his line of sight as he stood up and scanned his surroundings. The citizens of this place were monsters and creatures of different shapes and different sizes, complete with claws, fangs, and horns among other physical attributes; they also ranged from sapient/non-sapient species to more disparate and non-singular groups that represented a collection of imcompatible mixtures of different entities. Other than that, however, their physical forms largely resembled the characteristics associated with the human body...with the exception of human ears or even a nose.

Hell...

. . .

I'm in Hell...

As he slowly processed this, a strange, bright glow emitted from a few feet beside him. Turning to face the source, a table of weapons was displayed out for him...and only him. Cautiously approaching the table for a closer look, he recognized the weapons as a Glock 17 3rd Generation, a sword, a spear, and a rifle, but what caught him off guard was that―with the exception of the Glock―the last three weapons were glowing bright with an ornate design.

Gently taking up the sword and examining it, he felt its power and energy course through his veins.

As if...he became stronger with each fleeting moment.

"Hello, Hombre Del Saco."

Reacting quickly, he snatched up the Glock 17 and took aim at the uninvited guest. It appeared to be a teenager, and a female one judging by their voice. The hood they were burned away to reveal a Latino-American girl with red, black-tipped hair and a dark beige skin complexion; her hair appeared to be decorated with deer ears and antlers. A wide grin that displayed her sharpened yellow teeth was plastered on her face, and on her face was a pair of 1920's style sunglasses with a circular frame, black leather side cups, and blood red lenses. Her main outfit was a red pinstripe suit with a black bowtie, and levitating beside her was a combined cane/microphone contraption.

"I...I don't know you," He continued aiming the gun at her.

This...monster.

"But I know you," The monster smiled wide, "And I know that you're probably wondering why you're here. Here in the Underworld, hmm?"

"I have a pretty good idea," He grimaced before his facial expression turned solemn and somber, "I've done some deeds that I'm not proud of."

"Oh, I've heard," She continued to smile, "All of Hell knows. Your exploits up there have become legendary down here...and they all want a piece of you."

"Who?"

"The "people" who run things around here. Those who consider you an asset...and those who consider you a liability."

"And which one are you?"

"I'm both. You were a monster in life, and you're still one in death. But the difference is, you will be on the side of good...at least, my version of it."

Lowering the gun, He frowned with uncertainty.

"That is why I'm here."

"Yes," She slipped off her sunglasses, revealing her eyes...which consisted of dark-red sclera, bright-red irises and thin black pupils, the latter of which gave off an eerie resemblance to radio dials.

"You have some unfinished business to attend to...Mr. Wick."