Chapter 15
Bleeding.
At first, she though that she had simply fallen on something sharp. A stray tree limb, perhaps? A rib bone that had bee polished in the Hellish sun?
But no, that was not what had happened. She had collapsed onto the caked desert ground like a sack of rice, face first and just as immobile. Every single limb, every single finger, every single inch of her body ached from exhaustion and refused to budge.
And when she collapsed, she felt something stab into her. It happened so quickly that she didn't even feel it enter her at first. She only noticed the ache coming from her chest.
But then she realized that, even when she tried to crawl away (as exhausted as she was), there was something pinning her down. Then she felt something tugging at the flesh on her back and pushing against her ribs...not like pushing down against them, but pushing from inside of them and in between them.
She slowly turned her head, and she saw the creature. It had wings like a bird, a body like a woman...and the head of monster, with a face that glowed like an incandescent light bulb and grinned like a demon.
It was only then that she caught a quick glance of that spear that had impaled her.
She felt her mouth fill with blood, and she began to cough. She tried to move again.
And then her face hit the ground.
Velvette, it had been said, was the backbone of the triumvirate that made up the Vees.
Overlords consolidating their resources was not unheard of, but it rarely lasted for long before the inevitable egos and infighting tore it to shreds. Like all things in Hell, power was always in flux, and that was especially true with Sinners.
But the Vees were exceptional in a number of ways, from the sheer scale of their empire to the longevity it possessed. That last bit could be heavily credited to the trend-sensitive Velvette. The woman had her fingers in a number of lucrative pies, from advertising to product placement and social media influence...in many ways, she was the Social Media Influencer in the Pride Circle. She also was the top fashion designer for Hell's upper crust, even modeling her creations herself if none of her staff would do (and there were horror stories about the unlucky Sinners that got on her bad side).
Carmilla, for her part, was clearly done with her shit.
"Velvette. I'm surprised you're still here.", she said through clenched teeth. Fyewackett noticed that one of her eyes was twitching.
"Oh stuff it, ya wrinkly old slag.", the Overlord spat back in her abrasive cockney. "I'm only here because my associates asked me for a favor."
"Well then, surely you can do so outside."
"And miss talkin' to the girl what broke my bff's hand?" she answered back as she descended the stairs. "Not happenin', luv."
Velvette was a short (by Hell standards) and slim Sinner, with cedar-brown skin and permed red and navy blue hair, which at that particular moment was styled into a pair of Chinese 'ox horns', with the rest of the braid hanging down to her shoulders. She wore a dark navy-blue coat that lacked sleeves, yet she was also wearing a heart-spotted long-sleeve shirt underneath it. She also wore a pair of loose-fitting red-striped bell bottoms that were tightly belted to his torso. A pair of knee-high boots completed her ensemble, with a pair of skull-shaped earrrings dangling from her lobes.
"Of course, I also didn't figure on Miss Ong here being a daft bell end what wasn't smart enough to realize that she was bein' played.", she said with a smug grin.
Chay's eyes narrowed even further. "I'm far more cognizant of the situation than you think I am."
"Oh really?", said Velvette. "Then tell me...where's Alastor gone off to, hmm?"
-Well, fuck.
That was the million dollar question, wasn't it?
"But let's get back on topic: your little ILF friends are responsible for blowing up Flynn's little fuck shack in Imp City. You also managed to take out one of my associate's informants in the process."
"Oh believe me, I'm aware.", Chay responded.
"Yes, I know. Just sort of layin' out all of our facts on the table, luv."
She strolled right up to Chay, her red eyes topping her crooked grin.
"What you probably didn't know is that the shrapnel your little commie comrades used was taken from shipments that the Old Lady here was delivering to the Vee tower. Specifically, a very special shipment that involved pieces of what was supposed to be my bloody Autumn line-up!"
-...Wait, what?"
That didn't make any sense. Lucius had told her that the shrapnel used in the Hecate job had been specifically taken from the left-over spears that they had managed to scrounge up in Imp City after the Extermination. Either the Overlord was lying through her fangs (which she absolutely could be), or…
Carmilla said it herself. "It's Angelic Steel, Miss Ong. Nothing in all of creation can break it."
-And that's a fucking lie.
She knew it was a lie. She had seen Angelic Steel be broken numerous times. It wasn't easy to do by any means, but with enough pressure it cracked and shattered just like any other kind of metal. Carmilla herself admitted that they were able to melt it down themselves, and unless it could be manipulated somehow in the first place...
...So why did it still hurt?
Because you're been more vulnerable recently. You've allowed yourself to feel that pain. To try and trust others. Charlie said that was a good thing.
And it was. She believed it was.
On top of that, you felt a little bit of admiration for Carmilla, didn't you? Charlie colored your expectations of her. "The best Overlord next to Rosie", she said. It was much simpler when dealing with just Imps, wasn't it? Not as many Sinners to deal with in Imp City. But this is different. Carmilla is one of your people.
You kind of suck as a detective, huh?
Carmilla was doing something else. What did her and Alastor speak of when he told the Overlord about her?
Chay's eyes quickly whipped over to Carmilla. She was simply standing there off to the side with the two girls with her, letting the conversation play out, betraying no emotion other than her obvious irritation at Velvette's presence.
...Is she testing me?
…Is this was they called a mood swing?
Is it bad that she seemingly just underwent one in under a minute?
Probably.
Also...
"How...how the fuck were you going to use Angelic Steel in a fashion show?"
"They were gonna be sequins, ya bloody philistine!"
-That still doesn't make any sense.
"Aren't sequins supposed to be...I don't know, tiny and uniform?"
Velvette snorted angrily. "I mean sequins in the conceptual sense, ya feckless cunt!" Her eyes looked Chay up and down, judging every inch of her. "Besides, I'm not the one what's dressed up like some yuppie ski-bro getting ready to snort coke off a hooker's arse in Aspen!"
The Overlord's eyes trailed down to the frazzled end of her scarf.
"Although..."
Velvette reached down and fiddled with Chay's scarf.
"...Might be able to do something with the scarf, though. Hmm...a little too cottage core for my taste but..."
Fyewackett rolled his eyes. "Better than someone dressed up like a Street Fighter knock-off", he mumbled.
The Overlord's head snapped around. "I heard that, ya little twink!", she shouted.
Chay snatched her scarf out of Velvette's grasp. "If you think you can insult me with your bourgeois fashion sense, then you're playing a losing game.""
Velvette retorted with a smug smirk. "Game? Oh, This is just cricket, Ong. But lemme ask you something…"
The Overlord took a step closer, nearly chest-to-chest with Chay.
"What're you up to, hm?"
Chay didn't answer. There was no use in trying.
"No answer? Nothing at all? Not even an excuse?.
The smug grin dropped off of her face.
"I know you've been fucking with us, Ong. You may have been able to outsmart Valentino because he's an idiot. You also may have humiliated my best mate in front of the King's snog spawn. But we don't work by ourselves, luv. We're the Vees. We own this bloody city, in spite of what Miss Saggy Tits over there may tell you. There's not a goddamn bit of hobo's syphilitic piss that doesn't get spilled without us knowing about it, and that includes you. So I'll only warn you this one time, and only this one time…"
One of her fingers sharply poked Chay, right in her ribs.
"You. Will. Back. The. Fuck. Off-"
She was interrupted by a staticy voice.
"Now now, that's quite enough of that."
As if materializing out of thin air, a shadowy black hand grabbed her wrist and tugged it away. It was followed by Alastor, stepping out of the shadows and leering over her shoulder.
"Must we constantly remind you of proper decorum, Velvette?", he asked. "Miss Carmine did have this conversation with you last year…"
The other overlord sneered. "Well well, never pictured seeing you white knighting for Carmine."
"Oh, that's not my hand.", Alastor responded.
"...Oh?"
She looked down at her wrist and realized that Alastor was standing on the opposite side.
"...Oh. Of course."
She was answered by a very deep, oily, and gloomy voice.
"Thou wouldst be wise to listen to Alastor's council, Miss Velvette", Zestial said.
CHAPTER 15 END