Again, I apologize for taking so long to update. Don't worry. Like I said before, I intend to finish this story, especially on my brand-new MacBook Air!
Hellwalkers
Chapter 25: The Truth
When Octavia opened her eyes again, she found herself in a small prairie. Lamien's walls were nowhere to be seen; instead, she recognized the crystal and ice walls of Uncle Andrealphus's vacation palace in Wrath, a few hours away from the Hellevator. Still, it was located near a forested area next to a lake. Its icy blue palette and architecture sharply contrast Wrath's palette of oranges and reds.
Childish laughter drove her attention to a nearby camp of tents, each of a different color representing a different branch of the Goetia family. Guards were posted at specific points around the camp, constantly looking for potential threats. Moving through the camp as an unseen specter, Octavia looked for her younger self. Most of them were clad in their hunting regalia, a few showing off their hunt of the day.
It didn't take her long to find little Octavia—her six-year-old self—playing with the other Goetia children a bit away from the camp, oblivious or uncaring about their parents' hunting games. Then, the red ball they were throwing up in the air was launched too high and passed over Octavia's hands into the forest.
"You were supposed to catch it, Via!"
"You're the one who threw it too high!" Little Octavia retorted.
"We should tell one of the guards to go fetch it. There are lots of hellbeasts in the forest!"
"Big deal, my daddy can buy us a new one."
Little Octavia didn't accompany the rest of her friends back to camp. Instead, she searched the forest for the lost ball, prompting Octavia to follow her younger self deeper into the woods.
The more she watched, the more the void in her memory space began to fill. She'd accompanied her parents to the annual hunting tournament hosted by Uncle Andrealphus in Wrath. The ball they were playing with was accidentally thrown into the forest, and she'd gone to retrieve it. She looked in the woods for hours, and then—
SNAP!
Little Octavia and Octavia herself jumped at the sound of a branch snapping from the bush to the right, briefly catching a glimpse of glowing gold, ringed eyes.Her younger self ran down the trail with the creature in hot pursuit. Eventually, they reached a clearing with an opening in the trees' foliage, bathing the scenery in comforting moonlight.She saw her red ball was in the middle of a patch of grass.
Little Octava ran to pick up her toy, but then it dawned on her: she had no idea where she was.
A warm, gold glow caught Octavia's eye: her 'spirit guide' coming out of the bushes. It didn't pay her any heed, instead moving toward Little Octavia. The closer it got, the more the glow dissipated, revealing a pale hellbeast with dark hair strands and black horns instead of a mane. Little Octavia stepped back but tripped and fell on her back with a rock as it moved closer.
"P-Please don't eat me...!" her younger self stuttered in a whisper.
Little Octavia stood there, frozen in fear, as the creature bent down its neck to take a sniff... then it quietly moved past her and towards the bushes. It stopped and looked back at her, motioning to follow.
Octavia and Little Octavia followed suit. The hellbeast would make brief stops and look back to ensure she was still following. Not long after, Octavia heard voices calling out her name. She recognized Dad, Uncle Andre, and some guards' voices. Up ahead, she spotted the lights of torches and flashlights through the foliage.
"VIAAA!"
"That's Daddy!" Little Octavia chirped happily.
"HELLBEAST!"
Suddenly, her companion shrieked in pain as a bullet pierced its shoulder. The rings around its pupils thickened, and it shrieked, summoning a pack of hellbeasts—these the normal purplish gray with dark manes.
"Protect the princess!"
Chaos erupted. Octavia's head spun at the commotion of shouts, roars, and gunshots. Her younger self, caught up in the middle, barely avoided being trampled on by the hellbeasts and soldiers—both sides unaware of her presence.
At the last second, she spotted a hollow log. Little Octavia clumsily moved toward it.
CRUNCH!
Little Octavia—and Octavia herself—yelled in pain when sharp teeth pierced into her arm. The latter looked down at her arm. The bite marks were glowing.
The pale hellbeast stared at Little Octavia, its eyes wide in shock and horror before the soldier it'd initially meant to bite crawled away and grabbed a nearby spear.
Octavia closed her eyes shut, but she still heard the spear piercing into flesh followed by an agonizing roar.
She was back in the stone door corridor before the giant memory door when she opened her eyes again. However, the glowing gold carvings were glowing brighter than before. The hellbeast stood a few inches from her, pupilless eyes staring at her.
Octavia realized that her ethereal guide looked exactly like the pale hellbeast from the memory.
"Y-You bit me..." she whispered, eyes widening in realization. "You didn't mean to, but... I got in the way. While you were distracted with me, a guard..." Octavia swallowed the lump in her throat and looked down, eyes swelling up with tears. "I'm so sorry! You were trying to take me back home, and I got you killed...!"
The golden glow intensified. The hellbeast had stepped closer and stretched its neck, snout inches from her face. The bite in her arm was swirling with gold magic.
Octavia realized what she had to do.
Wiping her eyes, she reached out her bitten arm to touch its nose. The ethereal hellbeast closed its eyes as it dematerialized into gold tendrils of energy that snaked their way into Octavia's bite mark and disappeared.
...
Octavia awoke with a loud gasp.
"Girl, are ye okay?!"
Brash's voice snapped her out of her semi-panicked state. She was back in the west wing, next to his cage. The extinguished candles were still smoking, but the chalk circle had disappeared.
"What... What happened?"
"I could be askin' ya the same thing. The candles would flare up now and then, and yer arm... Well, the Goetia and Hellwalker magics seemed to be fightin' till the latter won." said Brash.
Octavia took a deep breath. For the first time in forever, her mind felt... clear.
"I remember now. When I was six, I came to Wrath for a hun–social event of the Goetia Family." Octavia quickly corrected herself before the words 'hunting party' came out. "I was playing with the other children, but the ball we were playing with was thrown into the woods. I went to look for it and got lost. I... I ran into a hellbeast, but... It didn't look like any I'd seen in books."
"Let me guess: pale peach skin and snake-like eyes?"
"Yeah... Do all Hellwalkers look like that?"
"Our hellbeast forms reflect our physical bodies. It depends on how you look like." Brash's brow furrowed. "Did it bite you?"
"Yes, but... It was an accident. It led me to the forest's edge, but the guards looking for me saw it and thought it would hurt me. The pack showed up..." Octavia winced as the flashes of steel and scales returned. "I'm not sure how, but the pale hellbeast ended up biting me by mistake. Then my Dad took me and..."
She paused.
"Ye don't need to sugarcoat it, girl." Brash looked away. Octavia saw a grim resignation in his eyes."I know what probably happened to that Hellwalker and his pack..."
The owl looked down at her forearm. The purple tendrils of magic were gone, but so were the swirls of Hellwalker magic.
"So... What's going to happen now? Am I going to turn into a hellbeast when I fall asleep? How does it work?"
"Yer spirit leaves yer body as a hellbeast whenever ye fall asleep. But..." Brash looked down, thoughtful. "I'm not sure about yer case. Yer father used Goetia magic to keep yer transformation at bay for years now. I didn't even know such magic existed, but it probably had consequences."
Octavia felt a shiver down her spine. One of the first things she'd learned in her magic lessons was how serious 'consequences' could be when spells aren't properly cast, or the steps aren't followed to the letter.
"What should I expect now?" she asked, half-trembling.
"For the time being, go to sleep, girl. If her spirit does leave yer body, don't panic. Just touch yer demon body, and yer hellbeast body will return to it to wake up."
Octavia stepped closer to the cage, taking a closer look at the padlock. It was adorned with white carvings—Goetia magic, making it impossible to open without the proper counterspell.
"Why is my father keeping you here?" she asked. Then she looked down at her arm. "...Does it have to do with me?"
"That's something ye might want to ask 'im in person."
"But if I do that, he'd find out I've been talking to you. We might get in trouble."
Brash met her eyes with intensity. "Girl, there's certain things ye must fight for, even if 'gets ya in trouble.'"
Octavia became pensive. Should she tell him about the Pale Imp she saw?
"You said you have a brother, right? What does he look like?"
"He's a snake Imp, just like me, but smaller and certainly not as handsome." Brash joked. "Why do ye ask?"
She took a deep breath. "I-I think I might have seen a snake Imp in the Pain Games–" The owl demoness stepped back, startled, when Brash suddenly banged his paws on the cage, all humor gone from his face.
"Are ye sure, girl? Did he have ringed eyes?! Did he wear a furred cape?! Was he alone?!"
"His clothing was regular for a Wrathian. You know, a hat, jacket, boots... But he took the shoes off in the race and ran on all fours. I don't know if he was with someone. I didn't talk to him..." She recalled something. "A few days ago, my arm began glowing when one of the Imp servants came to deliver lunch to the library. Is that normal?"
"What? Was he a snake Imp?"
"No, he was just a regular red Imp with freckles and digitigrade legs."
"But... That means..." Brash's eyes widened in realization. He banged a paw on the cage bars with an angry snarl. "Goddamn it, Clayton, what did ya do?!"
"Would you mind filling me in?"
"Someone in this town has been bitten. Yer arm was reactin' to a fellow Hellwalker."
Octavia looked down at her bitten arm. "And I guess it's a bad thing?"
"There's a reason we don't go around bitin' people, girl. My people's magic can be harmful to others in the wrong hands. And Town Imps are greedy. Who's to say they wouldn't sell us out to the Goetia for money?" Brash was pacing around his cage, cursing in a language Octavia didn't understand. Then he looked at her. "Girl, could ya do me a favor?"
"What is it?"
"Try and find that Imp you saw. Ask him if he was bitten and when. Ask him..." The Hellwalker looked down, eyes downcast. "Ask him if Clayton and his family are alright."
Octavia felt terrible when she heard the worry in his voice. He's been here for who knows how long, and he's not heard from his brother all that time. He's done so much for her without expecting anything in return...
"I'll try."
And I'll try to get you out of here, Brash.
Thankfully, Moxxie, Striker, and Jake returned to their Imp bodies right at the crack of dawn—about the time Millie's family woke up. Admittedly, Moxxie was almost caught by Blitzoagainwhen the latter went for a piss.
Striker didn't bother arguing with Jane when she accepted Joe and Lynn's offer to stay up for breakfast—she was thrilled to drink lots of milk. He always knew that, deep down, she missed the town tasties. He couldn't blame her. The pancakes were delicious.
"Dad, could we have pancakes every day?" Jake asked.
"We could if you want to put on 20 pounds in less than a month," Jane joked.
"Can we at least get some town tasties?"
"If we have leftover cash after we buy the supplies, then yes."
Striker left all of the 'money' stuff to his wife. When they went into town, Jane went into the bank. She came out half an hour later with a bunch of green paper. During the following shopping session, Striker opted to wait outside with Moxxie and the children while Jane and Millie visited the tailor's shop and pharmacy.
Amelia seemed okay with all the noise and smells, but the stench became so unbearable for Striker that he pulled the scarf over his nose.
"Come on, it doesn't smell that bad."
"It's easy for ya to say when yer town Imp nose is already spoiled from all the stench," Striker murmured.
"Trust me, this town smells like roses compared to the Greed ring. There are so many factories there that a good deal of the population has respiratory issues."
Striker frowned. "I suppose ye grew up there."
"I was born in this ring, but... My father insisted it'd be best if I were raised in the Greed ring. Mamma didn't like it."
"Ye don't seem too fond of yer old man."
Moxxie sighed sadly. "Like I said, we've never had the best... father-son relationship. It got worse after Mama died. She was always the mediator between us." His heart squirmed as an Imp passed by, carrying his child on his shoulders. "Then one day, I just... I couldn't bear it anymore, and I tried to leave..." Moxxie shivered. "He didn't take it kindly."
"Hey, Moxxie, isn't that your dad?"
"What?"
Jake pointed to an Imp in fancy clothing flanked by sharks—Jawns amongst them. Striker noted the resemblance between Moxxie and the Imp, sans the lack of freckles and plantigrade legs.
"Where are they goin'?"
"They're heading to the marketplace. They might be–Jake, where are you going?!"
Alarmed, Striker reached for his son's tail, but it slipped out of his grasp as the impling disappeared into the crowd. The Hellwalker cursed under his breath, tucked Amelia closer against his chest, and pushed through the townsfolk, with Moxxie following suit.
As they reached the main square, a noise caught Striker's attention. He'd heard it countless times, but it seemed so out of place inside the town walls. It was a hellbeast cub's cry of distress.
Moxxie paled once he realized where the sound was coming from. "S-Striker, we should go...!"
He tried grabbing Striker's arm, but the snake Imp was stronger and dragged him along for a few steps until Moxxie's hand slipped, and he fell to the ground. Moxxie hurried back to his feet and after him. The cub's cries got louder as they entered the main square and moved closer to the merchant's tent.
Striker and Jake stopped in their tracks. Moxxie barely avoided colliding with the former, but he didn't react. Both snake Imps were looking at the tent's entrance, eyes wide open in shock and horror. Moxxie was afraid to look, but he did anyway. And he regretted it almost instantly.
Outside the tent was his father, accompanied by his pose, surrounding the cage containing the tiny, half-starved hellbeast cub. Alessio opened a suitcase filled with money for the salesman to see. The Imp's greedy eyes lit up, and he happily shook Dad's hand.
"A pleasure doing business with you, Don Crimson!"
Dad snapped his fingers. Nickel and Crunch picked up the cage, not caring about the frightened cub crying out inside.
The rattling of a tail made Moxxie worry. Looking up at Striker, he realized his pupils had turned blood red, andhis face had averymurderous scowl. Moxxie was sure he'd be clenching his fists if he weren't holding Amelia.
"Striker, I know what you're thinking, but don't do anything reckless. Striker?"
Striker practically saw red as he watched them return the way they'd come, this time with the cage. The little cub was no older than one month and in terrible condition. He knew Town Imps were bastards, butthis?
Amelia's crying snapped him out of his enraged daze.
"Dad, we have to save the cub!" Jake tried to go after the sharks, but a firm hand on his tail stopped him. "Let go of me!"
"Jake, we have to think before we act,especiallywhen it has to do with my dad!" Moxxie said sternly. "Remember what I said back at the Den? Those sharks working for my father are gangsters. They are armed to the teeth, and they won't hesitate to kill people if my father gives the order!"
"That cub is scared! What are they goin' to do to 'im?!"
Moxxie flinched, eyes closed shut as he recalled his father's sharks dragging their victims to a secluded and throwing them into a metal paddock, leaving them to the mercy of the ravenous hellbeasts desperate for sustenance. He remembered the creatures' shrieks of anger and pain as they were mercilessly tasered—either as punishment or just for amusement.
"What do ya suggest then, vermin?" Striker asked. He'd managed to calm down somewhat, but his voice trembled with rage.
Moxxie thought for a moment. "I... I know many of those sharks. They have been around since I was an impling." Granted, their fear of Crimson's wrath was stronger than any sympathy they might have for him—if they still had it after all these years. "I might get one of them to tell me what they intend to do with it. We can make a plan to save the cub before they leave then."
After a moment of tense consideration, Striker sighed. "Fine."
"You take your family home, Striker. I'll... send you a bird when I find out, and then we can make a plan."
Striker gave him a curt nod and led Jake away by the arm, despite the impling's protests—both of their tails rattled.
Moxxie ran a hand down his hair. Damn it. If Striker were to find out what Crimson intended to do with the cub.… The image of the frightened little hellbeast inside a cage compared to the healthy, happy cubs he'd seen at the Sanctuary almost made him cry.
Jake is right. They have to do something. For now, though, he could only find out when they're leaving and where they'll keep the cage.
Getting that information out of his father's men would be easier said than done. All of them are one hundred percent loyal to Crimson—or wereveryafraid of his wrath. As an impling, many would escort him and Mamma around when they went out. His father's inner circle, in particular, was around the house more often, and they were always nice to him. After Mamma's passing, they tried offering comfort whenever possible—and whenever Crimson punished him or chewed him out on something, they'd watch the scene with sympathy—or averted their eyes altogether in regret as Moxxie received the brunt of his father's fury.
Still, as fond as they were of Moxxie, they'd never even think of betraying Crimson. Many of them had families and knew how far their boss could go if they ever stepped out of line. Even Alessio—who acted like a father to Moxxie his entire life than Crimson himself—wouldn't
But then who...?
Darragh and Finnegan! They'd never taken Crim's threats seriously despite witnessing what he did to those who crossed him a few times. They'd often sneak him out to the park when grounded or otherwise find a way to cheer him up without Crimson ever finding out. Plus, they're not precisely in Crimson's inner circle because of their Irish heritage—which Moxxie found stupid.
Thankfully, he found the twins right where he expected them to be: in the tavern. Even better, they were the only ones from the gang there. Knowing them, they've probably had a few rounds of beer already, which would make things easier. Satan bless the Irish fondness for alcohol!
"Oi, Mox! Over here!" Darragh waved a hand at him.
"Hey, guys!" Moxxie said with not-so-feigned joy as he sat at their table. "What are you up to?"
"We're finally leaving this Leviathan-forsaken town first thing tomorrow morning!" Finnegan cheered in between hiccups. "The boss has what he came for, and there's no more reason to stay."
Rather than directly ask what he meant, Moxxie opted to play it safe. "I didn't get to ask you last time. How are things back home?"
"Heck, if we told youallthe stuff that's happened, we'd be stuck here an entire month."
"How's… business?"
Darragh sighed and took another gulp of beer. "Doing good, I guess…"
Moxxie didn't want to ask, but… "Has Dad thought of meat all?"
The twins exchanged looks.
"Alessiohasbeen trying to keep tabs on you."
"Probably on Crim's instructions."
I doubt that, Moxxie thought bitterly, not missing the sympathy in their eyes. If Alessiodidkeep tabs on him, it was of his own accord. Not because Crimson told him to.
For a while, Moxxie let them talk. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested in what they had to say. Most notably, Alessio married a lovely pink dolphin demon, and they had two children together; sadly, she was killed by the Yakuza shortly after the birth of their three-month-old daughter six years ago. Stu impregnatedyet anothergirl, Chaz took over his father's angelic weaponry business after the latter's passing, amongst other things.
Moxxie barely managed to hold back tears as Darragh mentioned that Crimson still visits Mamma's grave, realizing that he hadn't seen her in all these years. His fear of running into his father right there was stronger than his love for his mother.
"You got any kids yet, Mox?" Finnegan asked suddenly—another sour topic.
"Not yet. We're still not ready for that." Moxxie lied. The waitress delivered the eighth round of beer pints. Now is the right time. "You know, guys… I saw Dad in the marketplace earlier."
"Oh, right! Who would have thought we'd find a hellbeast for sale righthere? And a cub, no less! It'll make it easier to train it. At least, that's what Alessio says."
Moxxie choked on his drink. "Alessio is going to train it?!"
"I know. He can add one more job to his ever-growing resumé." Finnegan joked.
"But it turns out he's not that bad at it. Remember the previous hellbeast we mentioned had died? Al had to take charge after its previous trainer… well, got eaten. Turns out he's pretty good at it. The hellbeast became more obedient and docile."
"Only to Alessio, that is," Darragh added quickly.
Moxxie stiffened a bit. It's now or never.
"Say, guys… Do you know where Dad is keeping that cub?"
The brothers glanced at him. "Why do you want to know?" Darragh inquired curiously.
"Well…" Moxxie tried to come up with a good excuse. "I've never seen a hellbeast cub before. I figured I might as well take a chance to do so."
The green sharks were silent for a while.
"Ar cheart dúinn insint dó?" Darragh asked his brother.
"Ádh mor! Ní dóigh liom go mbeidh an boss ar aon intinn..." Finnegan smirked. "Ní hé go gcaithfidh sé a fháil amach."
"Fós féin, má fhaigheann sé Moxxie ann..."
They don't want anyone else to know what they're talking about whenever they speak in Gaelic. That probably saved their asses once or twice in the past.
At last, Finnegan spoke up. "You didn't hear this from us, but…" he motioned Moxxie to lean in closer to whisper into his ear. "…The cub is being kept in one of the barns near the town gate. Some of the guys will keep watch overnight to keep overly curious people away."
"The boss wants to leave first thing in the morning." Darragh pointed out. "A pity, Mox. We wanted to hear the whole story of how you wound up with a Wrathiancailín."
Finnegan quirked his eyebrows slyly. "Is she good in bed?"
Moxxie's face turned a deeper shade of red. Darragh choked on his mouthful of beer.
"What the fuck, Finnegan?!
"Chill out, I'm only coddin' him!"
Moxxie slipped away not long after, saying he had to start making dinner—which wasn't acompletelie—promising to keep in touch. He might keep that promise. Deep down, he'd missed those two, even if they just made him pay for their beer.
On his way home, Moxxie looked around for a bird ofanykind. All he could find were pigeons. Guess they'd have to do.
Once he returned to the house, Moxxie ensured Millie wasn't home. Then, he opened the kitchen window and focused on a pigeon perched on the nearby rooftop. The thespian took a deep breath.
"Thar thugan."
To Moxxie's relief, his targeted pigeon was the only one that reacted. The bird flew down and perched on the windowsill, glowing eyes on Moxxie. Mental note: clean the windowsill thoroughly.
"There's a hidden cove with a waterfall to the north, in the forest. Find a snake imp with pale skin and give him this message:Striker, my father is keeping the cub in a barn inside the walls, close to the wall gates. I'll be waiting for you near the gate… And for goodness' sake, don't show up as a hellbeast."
The pigeon crooned and flew off. Now, he just had to wait.
