Notes: (Hazbin Hotel and all related characters are copyrighted by Vivenne Medrano and their respective owners. All original characters created by me.)
Note from the Author: As this story was written while the Hazbin Hotel franchise was still somewhat in its infancy, it attempts to follow the rules and canon that had been established at the time it was written. In the future, parts of this story may no longer make sense to the canon as it is later set. Please keep this in mind when reading this in the future.
Also, be advised that the following contains content not suitable for children (it IS based on an adult show, after all). Expect lots of foul language, gruesome violence, and plot elements that are unwholesome at best.
Enjoy!
-Adonisus
The Chay Ong Casefiles by Adonisus
Volume IV: Dark Side of the Moon
Prologue:
Falling.
That was the very first thought that had popped into her head after the gun went off: Falling
The entire affair had been over and done with before her brain could even conceive of its demise. A piece of metal, no larger than nine millimeters, had pierced her skull and blown a hole into the gray mass in her head. It had happened so fast that the weight of her bad karma had already begun dragging her down before her lifeless body had fallen down onto the grass.
It was the cold wind, brought from the accelerating gravity whipping her face, that had brought her back into consciousness.
She didn't scream. She wasn't sure if she was capable of it at that moment. The air pressure from that altitude compressed her lungs like a heavy millstone pressing her down. She could feel tears, however, nearly freezing to her eyes. Whether they came from sorrow or simple irritation from the red sky, she didn't know.
Her form cleaved a hole into the dark clouds. She could see others falling as well, off in the distance. They tumbled like leaves into a ferocious monsoon.
But they weren't the only forms in the air. She could also see some winged creatures, flitting about the air with bright, shining spears. She could hear shrieks.
Below her was a city. A city on fire. Skyscrapers, complexes, mansions and townhouses, much like the very cities she despised, filled with the very type of privileged scum who went about their hedonistic depravity while peasants like her toiled and starved.
And then she hit the ground…
"STOLAAAAS!"
The Goetian irritably rubbed his fingers over his eyes. The phone receiver in his hand shook. "I'm right here, Stella. There's no need to shout."
Stolas was not having a pleasant morning. He had been dreading this conversation, ever since Octavia had informed him that the moonstone had been stolen. The two had separated on less than amicable terms, and the situation had most certainlynot improved since.
Honestly, he didn't blame his daughter for ducking out early. If he could run away at this moment, he'd happily do it. Preferably in the arms of a certain Imp…
"Oh, I'm sorry! I thought you might have grown deaf since you've been avoiding me for over a week!"
A week too short if you ask me, he thought to himself.
"I know, Stella, and I'm sorry. I've been busy. Octavia is getting her university applications prepared and she needed some references so-"
"Don't try to use our daughter as an excuse, you prick!", the other Goetian shrieked. "It was your gift to her!"
"Yes, one which she in turn wanted to give to you for safekeeping."
"Are you actually blaming me?!"
"No, Stella. Just laying out the situation more clearly. Either way, I'm already handling it."
"Yes, over a week later. I swear if it wasn't for our daughter…"
Like you ever cared, he thought.
"Listen, Stella: I've already hired someone to track it down. They've already done good work for me in the past, and I'm sure they'll be able to find it quickly."
The other side of the conversation went silent for a moment.
There was a grumble.
"...Stolas, where is our daughter at this moment?"
It was Stolas's turn to grumble.
"She's gone out, Stella. She's a grown woman now, you know, not like you ever payed attention…"
Stella shrieked with rage.
And the cycle began again.
There is no life on the Moon.
There's no way something could live on the moon. Not naturally, at least. It is a dead rock, incapable of producing or sustaining anything organic. It's surface is nothing but brittle sand, itself the remnants of a cataclysmic collision between the Earth and some other enormous object (perhaps a comet), that broke off enormous chunks of the primordial planet's crust until the sheer gravitational forces of Earth's orbit forced it together into a tight, dense ball. Human scientists called this the "Late Heavy Bombardment" hypothesis.
In an irony of ironies, the previously mentioned colliding object may have been the very thing that brought moisture to the primordial Earth, beginning its cycle of evolution that would produce a vibrant and green planet. Yet the Moon would get none of this moisture. No green would ever grow on its surface. Not without significant technological intervention.
(The reality, of course, that these events were in fact put into motion by a curious, jealous and yet absent Creator was something that the humans themselves would never be capable of understanding...something the Creator themselves seemed incapable of ascertaining, but we get ahead of ourselves).
There is no life on the Moon.
...And yet, in an obscure Lunar cave near the Mare Imbrium (ironically called the 'Sea of Rain'), there is something curiously eyeing its surface. Something that is intelligent, and purposefully keeping itself hidden.
And it has its eyes set on Earth.
In the middle of Pentagram City, a surly female Imp is gulping whiskey sours.
Imps themselves aren't unusual in PC, and that's just what this particular Imp was counting on. Mediocrity was great cover for the likes of her.
The bar she's in is foggy with smoke...from all manner of substances. It was incredibly strong, and made her eyes and nostrils burn. She'd been here for only a day and she already missed Imp City.
But she had a job to do. Even if her boss didn't realize it yet.
A voice enters her head.
You're really sure about this.
She grunts irritably.
"For the 85th time, Jude, I am.", she whispers under her breath.
I am simply trying to convince you otherwise. You know what the Chairman says about-
"-Democratic Centralism, I'm aware.", she answered back. "But he hasn't been in town for over a week…"
Because he's trying to rebuild ties with our PC branch.
"No, it's because he's trying to help that Sinner bitch clean up her mess."
Miss Ong's work helps fund our operations.
"Only because the Chairman is a moron."
...I cannot argue with that.
"Of course you can't. It's patently obvious."
She gulped down another sour.
"Anyway, anything happening on your end Jude?"
You put me in a wastebin. What do you expect me to see?
"You're not deaf, are you?"
No, but with the din of this city I might as well be.
"So that's a no, then."
Someone threw a used condom on me earlier. Does that count?
She grunted. "Well, guess we'll have to take extra care cleaning you tonight. Thank Satan this city at least has tap water…"
You could perhaps just try carrying me on your hip? Everyone else already carries in this city.
"I've erased far too many people from this Circle, Jude. I can't risk it."
She slapped some bills onto the bar and hopped off of the barstool.
"Now, we need to track down that hotel they're staying in. I'll be out to get you in a minute."
No need to hurry.
She smoothed out her bone white hair and made her way for the door.
The Sigh had a job to do.
PROLOGUE END
