Two days had passed since Angel Dust was rescued from his captors. It was a relief for everyone involved; yet, it was surprising as Railtracer distinguished himself in the eyes of the princess. Underneath that gas mask of his, Mrs. Mayberry couldn't help herself from being enamored with the Russian. The more she thought of his great act of goodness, merely gave credit to the purpose of the Hazbin Hotel and the possibility of redemption.
She strode through the hallways and took the time to appreciate her free time before the education administration would recall her back. Yet, the sinner could not avoid pondering about him. Part of her was jealous at the succubus hooking up with her but she had no intention of dealing with relationship drama. Stealing a man from another woman incited hatred at the bitch who slept with Gerald. All she could do was watch them from afar and wish him the best for those two.
The hallway forced her to turn around a corner to her left and she smoothly strode around to find another long pathway leading to the other side of the building. Yet, she had no intention of going there while the sinner was about to approach his hotel room to her right. Normally, he would be up and be in the workshop fixing weapons but she heard that Nifty noticed it wasn't as dirty as usual. What could cause a change in his schedule?
She heard noises when stopping in front of his room. There was something amiss about this moment and she knew not why. Her stomach churned as she pressed her ear against the wooden door while keeping the horns from knocking. On the other side was the sound of a bed squeaking and a body shuffling around. Hearing this made the sinner become filled with worry as her hand reached for the doorknob and turned.
Mayberry slowly opened her way inside and gradually got a glimpse of the man's room. It was surprisingly small compared to the others she had seen but the initial impression was that Railtracer was content in living in these tight quarters. On her immediate flanks were two closets facing across from each other while she looked further to find the right side contain a spot save for a doorway leading into the bathroom. Then her gaze fell upon the left, only to find Railtracer lying on his bed with disorganized beddings and sheets.
It all changed when she saw him turn while trying to say something in his sleep. Then the mood of the room changed upon his whimpering and quiet cries for help. She couldn't make out his words but it was clear that he was having a nightmare. All this did was incite pain in her heart, knowing that Angel Dust's stoic rescuer had problems of his own, ones that were not revealed to anyone else until now.
Railtracer had always been helpful, one way or another and the teacher felt compelled to return the favor. She walked over to his bed and sat near the edge. His legs shuffled and brushed against her lower back. He was unaware of the woman's presence as she extended her arm out and placed her hand on his shoulder. It looked like he was about to turn in his sleep but the intensity of his shaking ceased before she spoke up. "It's just a nightmare, you're safe."
A few seconds passed as he sat up from his bed and drew a pistol from his side. Taken by complete surprise, Mayberry was shocked as his weapon was pointed at her The glass slits of his gas mask revealed a glimpse of his anger as flames flickered in a bloodshot rage. Then his composure relaxed as he slowly lowered his weapon and the fire returned to the original blue color. "May… what are you doing here?"
"I heard you crying in your bedroom," She answered, hoping her presence did not interfere with his private quarters, "Nightmares?"
He confirmed her hunch by nodding his head before shifting around the sheets and sitting beside her. The Russian hunched over before massaging his temple.
"Maybe I shouldn't have done that?" Remarked the teacher feeling regret after seeing him return his firearm to the holster on the side of his belt.
"It's fine. I needed to get up anyway," He answered, painfully groaning before turning his head and looking at her, "Do you know what time it is?"
"Mid-day. Someone noticed you were sleeping late and I decided to check up on you."
"Appreciate it. Besides, Blitzo is probably waiting for me back at work and I need to get going soon." He said, casually ignoring the problems he had shown earlier.
As much as Helen wanted to let him go, she wondered about the terrors that affected him in his sleep. "Railtracer, do you ever want to talk about those nightmares? It's probably not my place to say but it hurts watching you deal with PTSD."
"What's that?"
"It's an acronym for post-traumatic stress disorder," Came her reply, informing him of his issues as he looked across the room and stared at the wall. Her town had seen such people before but they usually kept to themselves. She always wanted to help the returning veterans whenever they could but Gerald was insistent on letting them suffer. His reasoning typically along the lines of shaming them as morons for signing up. The teacher was unwilling to deal with that perspective of life, "Talking about it might help."
He rested his arms atop his knees before reaching into his breast pocket. Then he brandished a lighter in the shape of a bullet, looking at its design before lowering his head. "Even though I'm a sinner, I'm technically not one of you. Alastor, Angel, Vaggie - they all died in some shape or form that got them a place in Hell. Me? I'm a special case who has personally offended God."
"What did you do?" There was hesitation in her voice and for good reason. The back of her mind felt unsure of asking him that question and it may be too personal for her friend to express the very memories that he tried to repress in his sleep.
"I killed his servants, Mayberry. I'm an angel slayer," A somber tone escaped his mouth as he coughed for a brief moment, "Had I not killed them, technically, I wouldn't have been sent here in the first place and find a place in Heaven. It was the greatest sin I've committed, one too great for redemption. The only reason I've come here is to lie to myself. There's no chance for someone like me for the things I did but the idea sounds nice and all of it haunts me."
An angel killer was a rare sight indeed. In her relative time in Hell, there were moments she had overheard conversations about such special sinners. No wonder why the three overlord captors handed their prisoner over, he was far too powerful even for them. Here that man was, sitting beside her, berating his mortal actions. "Hey don't be too hard on yourself. Not many people would have done what you did at the studio. Angel Dust is back here safe and sound because of you."
"Thank you. It's nice to hear that." The Russian said before letting out a chuckle from behind his gas mask.
"You're welcome," She rose from the bed and thought about improving his mood even further. Then Helen turned around with a small smile on her face, knowing the answer, "You are probably hungry but I can fix up a meal and some extras."
"Before you go, I would like to ask you something. Can we keep this between us?"
"Of course."
The machine stood behind a counter and carefully wiped the dirt and debris from the top. Ever since the raid by the unannounced guests, it had to carefully repair the cafe back to normal. Bullet holes were covered up, mulched tables had to be replaced, and broken glass windows had to be carefully refitted again. Fortunately, it could afford all of the time in the world to strive towards perfection. It remembered the moment and appreciated the violence to break up the monotony of life. Much time had passed since the body had been refueled by its blood and the excitement it received on smashing into a victim. Nonetheless, it was over and back to operating the building.
Verosika entered its memory banks once her recent history and upcoming dates were coming up. The girl's happiness levels were increasing than average. It checked historical data to define the cause of this, only to trace that connection back to an imp by the name of Blitzo. She was content with him back then until anomalous behavior dissatisfied the adoptive daughter and their relationship deteriorated. The machine made probabilities of them getting back together again; yet, the trajectory shifted further away upon discovering the newfound relationship between the head of I.M.P and a prince of an Ars Goetia. Only one conclusion remained, she had found someone who made her happy.
V1 hoped that it would last; however, there were also careful considerations that it might be a one-off fling. Additional calculations would be accounted for once she properly introduced the individual for inspection. Possibilities for improved behavior came into question and the machine recognized that it would provide morale for her stress at the upcoming concert. Someone needed to bring the succubus some comfort.
What peaceful silence it had to itself was interrupted by a message alerting the machine of anomalous energy readings nearby. The only time these readings would be detected were the various safe houses littered throughout Hell by the agents of Heaven… or an archangel willfully traveling to the dark realm. It's mechanical hand reached for its side and the fingers wrapped themselves around the grip of the sharpshooter revolver. The history with the authorities of Heaven was well documented and the machine knew that they did not tolerate it in the same manner as the denizens of this reality.
The kitchen behind it contained a commotion as the clatter of trays met with the floor. Someone was inside the cafe without permission. V1 turned around and strode to the back while brandishing the ancient weapon. It drew the firearm and began to spin it around the finger while turning around the corner, ready to deal with the intruder with cold ruthless efficiency. If the moment was fortunate, the machine could 'style' on the individual.
When it entered the area where the donuts and bagels would be prepared, the feeling of confusion and shock took over upon seeing a dark-robed figure on one knee. Azrael, the Archangel of Death, had bent his knee and lowered himself to the floor. The being who collected souls and processed them throughout the afterlife was trying to put away two metal trays containing a variety of donuts back on the counter to his right. Meanwhile, his skull revealed a chocolate-covered donut with sprinkles stuck in between his teeth. Probabilities gave possibilities of a potential assassination, not a Heavenly representative eating sugary delicacies meant for humans while cleaning up after himself. "Why have you come here?"
Soon the Grim Reaper grabbed the last tray and placed it carefully on the marble top where they fell from. Then he pulled himself up by his scythe, treating it as a walking staff rather than a weapon, and then he swallowed the rest of his treat. Then his boney fingers wiped against his black robes, dirtying his apparel with crumbs. "My presence should be obvious. If that is not enough, machine, I have come to seek you out."
"You should have brought back up," The machine replied with its electronic voice while accelerating the spinning of it's crimson-colored revolver in preparation for the would-be fight. It committed a great crime so great and terrible that he was ashamed of its existence. Since the days of the apocalyptic war between the two realms, God's servants were always on a mission to find him and terminate it's active service. Yet, there was one who had an incredible grudge against it, "Too bad Gabriel isn't here."
"If you believe that I am anything like my brother, you are mistaken. There is a situation, one that is the cause of much ire as my investigators are being methodically hunted down by my own kin." VI's cylinder robotic camera eye began to 'squint' as shutters rotated around its lens focusing hard on the Grim Reaper. It's shooting hand continued to spin the blessed and holy firearm but it brought no comfort.
"And this concern's me? It has been eons since my rebellion during the War in Heaven and somehow you're here to treat me like a lifelong friend. Give me a reason why I shouldn't shoot you right here and now."
"The succubus…" Death grabbed his scythe and placed it against the counter where the trays of donuts resided on. He reached over for another sprinkled-covered one flavored in a strawberry crust. Then turned to focus on the machine in the eye. "Your adoptive daughter is dating one of the men in my department."
"Verosika? She has nothing to do with this. Leave her out." Just what was the archangel's angle to mention the kind creature he took under his wing? Gabriel was very upfront in his attempts to destroy his frame but this was different. What manner of cold ruthless logic could be hidden underneath that hood?
"You have a vested interest to protect her just as I have a vested interest to protect him. As of right now, they're dating but she does not know about his secrecy just as the high marshal doesn't know about this cafe we reside in. I need your help."
The revelation of information did not change V1's physical stance but its internal cogitators were taken aback. As it accounted for the new variables, it began to ponder this bizarre position. Was this all planned? There had to be some kind of ruse involved that would permit the machine to lower its guard. The probabilities made no sense after seeing the Archangel of Death casually eat his donut with his weapon out of hand. If he had known about his stay at the cafe, why didn't he report this to his brothers in Heaven? Surely he would, after all, Gabriel would have done so. Then again, he wasn't dealing with Gabriel. So it began to take control of the conversation and demand answers. "Why choose me? Don't you have an army of personnel to call upon at your beck and call? They can provide security for your undercover agents."
"Not with this. My investigator, Ms. Mayday's boyfriend, was assigned to a high-profile task to protect Princess Charlie Magne Morningstar as per agreement with Lucifer. So I cannot provide protection details without sacrificing the ever-so-important secrecy that the Department of Purgatory has carefully established." His explanation was sound as the machine grabbed the handle of its sharpshooter revolver and placed the weapon on it's metallic hip. This had to be an elaborate ruse but his child's life was on the line, perhaps Azrael was genuine with his explanation.
"It must be important if you have managed to get Lucifer to agree to this," Everything about this sounded ludicrous and yet it could not feel fascinated by the depths of the proposal. The Grim Reaper was more than his robes let on, "Who is daring to threaten you and your fallen brother?"
"The ranks of the Holy Army are compromised. Some seek to break the ceasefire treaty and continue the War in Heaven. My department doesn't know the extent of this sentiment for bloodshed and we have interfered in their plans for the time being. You have no interest in helping me but I would imagine it would bring a difficult life to your daughter. I fear that in the haste of denying their success, they may escalate and hasten their resolve to see their plans into successful action."
This conversation seemed so unbelievable and yet Azrael had somehow convinced V1 with his words. It was a double-edged sword to cooperate with this servant of Heaven but Verosika's well-being took priority. The machine was a father now and it couldn't afford to hold such grievances against its former masters. Suspicion kept the blood-fueled robot from fully embracing the archangel standing in front of it. "I'll see what I can do."
Blitzo had called the crew to the meeting room and Millie was all too eager to answer. Her husband was not as enthusiastic but he was never far from her company. As they gathered around a single rectangular table, the duo took their seats while the boss' daughter sat across from them. She looked to her right to find the CEO of I.M.P spinning around in his chair while casually placing his flintlock pistol on the table. He stole glances from the employees before smiling gleefully. "I've got a special call that we'll be meeting with a new business who will be paying a premium to have us. The money he has is triple what we get with our clients so we'll have the entire week off until this is over."
"Sir, are you sure this is a good idea?" The imp turned her head to the left and found Moxxie raising his finger. He seemed concerned about the decision being made but she always supported his ability to speak up for himself, "If I may, perhaps we should get some extra money on the side."
"Nah. Besides, all three of us are going to Ozzies over the weekend. Stolas and I are going to get some downtime and you two get a table to yourselves. Plus, Loona wants time off." He casually answered before leaning back in his chair and pulling out a rag to slowly clean the weapon.
"You always give her time off."
She knew how it was going to go. Her boss would let off a negative remark and her husband would try to come up with his own. Fortunately, the boys always seemed to put their insults as water under a bridge. Millie wrapped her arm around her beloved and expressed a cheerful tone that would interrupt the tension in the room. "That's so sweet of you, boss. I'd appreciate you letting me spend some time with my man."
"Your welcome," Blitz answered cheerfully before he crossed his arms and raised his head high with pride, "I'm capable of being nice so consider it a treat from me."
"Yes sir." Moxxie replied with annoyance before he pulled her chair closer to him and placed his free hand upon her left hand.
Loona's head was raised from looking at her phone before shifting her eyes to the door across from her adoptive father's chair. "We got company."
The door was knocked on three times as the party of four looked over to the entrance of the meeting room. A minute passed until the bronze doorknob began to turn and the person from the hallway cracked the door open. It was a sight for sore eyes as the sinner entered the room with the business duffle bag hanging over his shoulder, containing all of the weaponry that was fixed and adjusted by the local arms repairman.
Millie was surprised to see him return while he adjusted his iconic gas mask over his face. Then he began to address everyone. "Hello everyone. I'm glad to be back."
"Maybe you shouldn't have come back," The Hellhound commented while she put down her electronic device on her lap and focused her attention on him, "We're not going to be conducting business for a while."
"Really? Damn, maybe I shouldn't have cleaned up the weapons earlier." He seemed disappointed as he lifted the bag off his shoulders and placed it on the ground. Then the Russian sinner approached the nearest chair and sat across from the imp in charge.
Moxxie reached into his pocket and brandished a phone as the wife peeked beside his shoulder and saw him brandish his social media. A thumb tapped Sinstagram and he navigated through the app to reveal news about the paparazzi photos of Verosika Mayday hanging out with her crew on a boat, sitting beside Railtracer at a table. The heading of the article questions the newly acquired boyfriend. An evil thought popped into her mind to jab at a relationship that the sinner had with the succubus. "So, how was sex with Verosika?"
"What are you talking about?" Her husband showed his phone and faced the screen towards him. A minute passed before his blank stare managed to give him time to reply, "Oh… that."
"Come on. Spill the beans. Not everyone lucks out on a gal like her." She encouraged him to speak about his experience with the pop star. It was mostly out of morbid curiosity but times were rare for sinners and Hellborn to date each other thanks to the nature of their existence.
"I don't know. All I can say is that I've grown fond of her since we hooked up."
That was an answer she didn't expect to hear but it was nice to see her coworker feel better than usual. There was so much he could do in the arsenal room before running out of weapons to fix and clean. Soon Blitz commanded his employees. "As much as you guys like to talk about my ex-girlfriend, I'd appreciate it if you don't bring her up right now."
"Thanks for taking me out of the spotlight, sir." The Russian commented as he adjusted himself in his chair.
"No problem," The boss acknowledged as he stepped out of his seat and slapped both of his hands on the table, "Once we finish our little vacation at Ozzie's, we got to get ourselves cleaned up and ready to meet with our host in Greed."
"Greed? I have some allowance to go there but I don't know what it's like," He said while crossing his arms and keeping his back straight, "Is there anyone here who has been there long enough to know what goes on there?"
Millie looked around to see the expressions on the faces of those present in the room. Yet, the one who did not show indifference was Moxxie and he grimaced at the question. His lips moved and spoke with a clear conscience that she normally didn't see in him. "I have. That whole level is one massive junkyard with a few clean suburbs here and there. Lots of criminal gangs and hit squads thriving there. It used to be my home until Blitz took me under his wing after I got arrested."
"What are you in there for?"
"Bank robbery," The imp slumped in his chair as he let out a deep breath as if he was bottling up his emotions, "Got left behind by my partner back then."
Railtracer let out a chuckle from underneath his gas mask as he continued. "Well then, if you intend to rob a bank, tell me where it's happening. I'll take my money out before you steal it."
"No worries. That's peanuts compared to what the banks have in their vaults."
She smiled while observing their banter. It was as if the arrest by Prince Stolas never happened. Nonetheless, it was great to see that not every conversation was a bunch of petty insults being thrown around.
An invitation had been given and the former communist officer did not pass the opportunity to accept. He arrived by car and parked in front of a music studio with a sign containing notes in pink neon lights. As he stepped out of the vehicle and made his way to the front entrance, the sky darkened and the rain began to pour. Pavel pulled the door open and slipped into the dry lobby as he looked around to see Hellborn and sinner alike keep to themselves through their phones or magazines.
A woman called out for him from his left, a raven with blue eyes wearing an outfit he had only seen for secretaries. She sat behind a counter with a glass window separating her from those waiting in a massive lobby. "Mister? You don't look to be a musician. Are you visiting someone?"
"Da - I mean - yes," He answered while realizing that his Russian would be lost on the English-speaking woman, "A Kiki invited me to come here. She is part of Verosika Mayday's crew. Is she here?"
"Absolutely. She is currently singing but her entourage is waiting for her outside. They're in a hallway straight ahead. You'll know by the Hellhound guarding the door." The woman carefully explained before pointing her hand to the door ahead.
"Spasiba. Appreciate it."
Pavel did not waste a second to proceed into the hallway where an array of rooms were established. This place felt less like a studio and more of a motel but its expansive side did not deter him from finding his succubus girlfriend. As he walked past each door that failed to meet the woman's descriptions, the saved took the opportunity to think about his current situation. Prior to his arrival, he had taken the consideration to think about what he was doing.
The update to the policies of the Department of Purgatory was an ever-present thought that was on his mind. While he would gladly follow the guidelines established by the people Heavenside, its practicality came into question. If there is a single truth about being an investigator, it was that they led two different lives and he found himself on the edge of dealing with the consequences.
Kiki wanted his company and he would try to fulfill that role as a loving and understanding boyfriend. The former officer wanted to repay her properly given that she got caught up in the middle of a shootout with Hellborn gangsters. Yet, his duties to the department would be strained if they discovered his act of disobedience. He hoped that Uhlman or Tony would understand his situation but the consequences and punishment remained on his mind. Would they suspend him from further Hellside deployments or reassigned the saved to another job? The thought of being ordered to handle desk work seeped in the back of his mind and the palpable agony of performing nine-to-five boredom would be torturous.
His walking produced results upon seeing a grey-haired Hellhound in a ripped jacket with red-colored spikes atop his black undershirt. As stated by the woman at the front counter, he was standing outside the door, head scanning the surroundings. The last time that Pavel encountered him was after Verosika's car got returned and now he would meet the guy once more on different terms. "Vortex! It's good to see you. How have you been, chuvak?"
"I saw you rescue Angel Dust with Railtracer," He crossed his arms and his lips formed a welcoming smile as the distance between the two began to close in, "You two know each other?"
"Absolutely. We used to have a history together back when we were alive. I tried to kill him, he tried to kill me. Fortunately, it's all water under the bridge." A bit of truth to maintain the cover of his sinful identity.
"Kiki said to let you in. I'd love to join a conversation with you and grab a beer but Verosika is busy and she expects me to do my job."
"I understand," The Russian said as a few meters were all that remained between them. Then his feet brought him closer before the disguised saved patted him on the shoulder, assuring him of a future time to hang out, "Next time, next time."
Soon the Hellhound provided him an approving nod before stepping aside as a hand reached behind his back and pressed down on the lever attached to the door. Vortex began to step aside and widened the door with his free hand as much as possible. "Welcome to our private resort. Be nice and don't cause trouble."
"Have fun with guard duty."
Now the entrance was open to him. The investigator walked inside to find the 'music studio' look less like a sound room with electronic equipment and more like a nightclub. To his left were two succubi and two incubi sitting together on a corner couch with a round table, their legs wrapped around each other as the homosexual couples performed passionately kissing with each other. The old ideological part of him would have found that to be wrong but he was a better man to leave behind his skeevy ways as his eyes searched around the room for his girlfriend.
A mouth popped on his flank and Pavel looked to his right to find a small but fat succubus and tall while slender incubus sat on stools in front of a counter together. Past them was the familiar sight of a hookah placed between them as they passed around a waterpipe with puffs of smoke being released into the air. It had been a long time since he spent time with one and life as an investigator didn't provide such a luxury to him. "It's been a while since I've seen one of these."
"You're Kiki's boyfriend?" Questioned the large succubus in her ripped jean shorts and bare shoulder shirt. She took three huffs into her mouth and passed the pipe over to her eager companion, "I heard about that shooting."
"Oh, that." His hand reached over behind his head, scratching the robotic metal where his hair would be. If only they knew his identity.
"I really don't like sinners. Your sort always attracts trouble but we're glad that you kept her safe."
"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Questioned the former communist as he brought his hands to his side and slipped them into his pockets. It was difficult to interpret the spirit of her words by the way she said, "I hope it's not a mark against me."
The incubus beside her laughed while his teeth gripped the pipe. His attitude matched the grey sweatpants and the sleeveless red hoodie, relaxed and calm. "Don't worry, man. Milky is just being defensive as always. It's rare to find people who'll watch our backs."
"No problem. I just hope that you guys won't hold that car thievery thing awhile back."
"That? Nah, I'm just surprised you didn't try to sell it. The damn things priceless in Hell," The incubus replied as his mouth let go of the object and brought the hookah's appendage to him. A gesture only provided by a host but it was a sign of acceptance, "Say, do you want to try?"
How could he tell him no? Even in the regimented lifestyles of the Red Line's finest, it wasn't rare for officers to take 'liberties' with their spare time smoking this stuff behind closed doors. "Only a saint would refuse?"
His hand reached for the hookah as the small air pressure flowed through the tubbing and released into his mouth. A sensation of relaxation filled his lungs as his mind could find clarity the more he continued to hold on to the mouthpiece at the end. Then he opened his mouth as clouds of inhaled smoke were released into the air, forming shapes of circles the more his lips closed.
"I just wanted a try," Pavel said as he looked to the Hellborn creatures to find them stealing a glance at each other with an approving nod. It seemed that he was rubbing off on them as he presented the pipe, "Anyone else?"
The fat succubus reached out as he passed the tube over. Then the mood changed when he heard a sweet voice speak, "I'm glad you've made it!"
Turning left, he saw Kiki walk up to him from the opposite side of the room. To say he was speechless was an understatement. Her long legs revealed much thigh skin thanks to a black skirt; yet, it was not the eye-catcher as to the backless grey sweater she wore. This gorgeous display was rare for a man like him as he smiled at the Hellborn who seemingly wrapped her finger around him. "You look beautiful."
"You don't need to flatter me," She said before her hands were wrapped around his neck. A small laugh came from her before the girl pulled herself closer and pecked him on the cheek while his hands embraced her with his warms slipping around her bare back, "Verosika said that Vortex saw you with Railtracer when they rescued Angel Dust. Do you two know each other?"
The kissing from his left was broken off as one of the incubi expressed his shock. "Wait a minute, you're friends with Verosika's boyfriend?!"
"Da," Shit, he needed a good excuse to talk about that relationship before they started shooting away with their questions. Pavel could say that they were good coworkers but they would ponder about what they did for a living, which did not exist. The only viable subject was their existence in a post-apocalyptic world, "It's something of a long story and something like that involves a bottle and a seat."
"Let's make some room."
The occupants of the corner table had ceased their passionate acts of love as they scooted their bodies. A couple on the edge moved to the middle, allowing the Russian and his succubus girlfriend to take the spots where they once were. Once he had settled down, the incubus in the sweatpants approached him with a gleaming white bottle and a tray of shot glasses in hand. Then he placed them carefully on the table and ensured that everyone presently sitting there was able to get their fair share.
It didn't take long before the disgusted investigator grabbed the bottle and cracked the seal open before pouring each glass into an equal amount until he was the last one to remain. The clear liquid was almost to the top until the former officer placed the bottle at the center of the table and immediately drank his shot. Alcohol soared through his veins, a burning sensation reminding the man of the days when he and his comrade were two men on opposite sides of the barricade. "So, what do you ladies and gentlemen want to talk about?"
"When did ya two meet?" Asked a blonde succubus to his right. Her ripped overall jeans covered the black-laced bra underneath, "It sounds like you two have a history together."
"In prison - actually - I'm wrong on that. We met at an… enhanced interrogation center containing a bunch of Neo-Nazis." The eyes of his audience widened like plates. He could tell that it would be a long back-and-forth.
Kiki got ahold of her shot and drank. "Were you the prisoner or the interrogator?"
"Prisoner," Relieving sighs were all they could offer, assuring them that he was not who they thought he was. Even Lenin would turn in his grave if that was the case. Then he continued to summarize his experiences with the man, "Well, we broke out together. I got captured and he came in to rescue me from an execution by hanging like one of those guys from that book about the musketeers."
"Are you talking about the three musketeers?" She asked curiously.
"Yep, those three. Confusing book and I couldn't make sense out of half of it but he was just like Artagnan."
They were immediately interrupted when the door swung open as Vortex walked into the room and stepped aside. "Right this way, sir."
"Who could that be?"
"You'll know soon enough," Answered the wolf.
A tall and large Hellborn managed to slip through the door to tower over everyone else in the room. His chest was broad and his waist was thin. Below them were digitigrade legs that assisted in the stranger's height. The form was surprisingly alien to the saved with an appearance mimicking a rooster. His clothing consisted of a navy-blue vest with the upper half in white stripes while a top hat rested upon the crown that was his head. "Hello there, ladies and gentlemen!"
"Asmodeus!" Milky shouted to the top of her lungs while throwing her hands up in the air, "Verosika is busy with auditions for the concert but it's nice to get a visitor."
"Glad to see that I've been appreciated. Though, I wonder who's the sinner you got here." Pavel felt a cold chill down his spine as he looked up to find the dark blue head lowering his gaze with neon green eyes to address his existence in the room. He let out an evil laugh before the succubus behind him had spoken.
"Asmodeus, meet Pavel. He's Kiki's boyfriend."
"What a lucky man! Your girl definitely treating your right with that damn virgin sweater of hers," The blood on his head began to rise with temperature before the former communist stole a glance from his girlfriend to see her just as embarrassed as she was. Now this was the sort of attention he didn't need but the Russian couldn't walk away without raising suspicion, "All it takes is a bit of lust and one of you will be down on the other."
The blond succubus sitting to his right began to speak up. "Say, whatcha doing here As? Business with Mayday."
"Quite a bit but I can wait. Right now I'm in a pleasant mood to invite as many people to Ozzies as much as possible. How about it? Anyone in the mood?"
Everyone cheered with excitement from their voices. Pavel was tempted to join them but he remembered his responsibilities and he was not sure that he could run away the next time. Then he noticed Kiki sit upright and take the moment to get her word in as her hand slipped underneath his arm, "I got to ask, I know he's a sinner and all that but can I bring him with me? Both of us know that sinners can't travel between the levels."
"A favor? From me?" He hummed to himself and walked back and forth throughout the room as he pondered his thoughts. Despite his boisterous introduction, his soul didn't share the excitement of the Hellborn expressed throughout this room. Then the latest member of the group raised his head with his finger pointing in the air, "Ah ha! How about this? Your boyfriend can come if he can showcase how much he loves you. A bit of fucking and some snake action and I'll consider it."
"I… uh." The disguised saved looked to the corner of his eye to see her nervous reaction at being presented with the opportunity. Yet, she was unsure and as time passed for her to come up with an answer, he eyes felt discomfort.
Soon he shook his head and brought his free hand to cover his girlfriend's hand. "It's okay. You don't need to do that if you don't want to."
Hope came to her as she smiled before kissing him on the cheek. Then he turned his head upward at the bird-like creature folding his arms in disappointment.
"Shame I won't get that invitation."
The hidden killings of the Department of Purgatory's investigators had gone well at first but Adam noticed a change in winds. He stood in the warehouse, looking at the computer displays of undercover operatives working for the movement who sought Lucifer's downfall. While he got away with converting sinners to kill Azrael's agents, it seemed as if they caught wind of their endeavors. They were adapting and it was working effectively.
He had expected the grim reaper to be slow and dealing with their cell but once they attacked that weapon shipment, it threw a wrench in the planning. They were being pressed for time and preparations for Hell's destruction had its limits. His superior knew the odds would be stacked against them but if they played their cards right, there was a chance to take advantage.
His eyes looked at the exterminator working at her desk, fingers tapping against the keyboard. Lute had proven her loyalty to the cause with sheer zealotry and it was her skills that he would exceed his master's desires. Right now, the current path was not as productive as before. "Get me the archangel."
She briefly looked over her shoulder and nodded before returning to her work and typing away at the commands.
The old days flickered into his mind like a leaf on the wind. Living in Heaven after his death on Earth had elevated him into a position that the saved wished they could obtain but it also came at a price. Eve was tired of him but he had good reason to annoy her into leaving that relationship. She slept with the serpent - the Archangel of Hell and her curiosity got the better of her by bringing the apple they took a bite from. Then the anger of the holy father came soon after, although they spent their lives together as husband and wife, their love was never meant to last. He would not forget her transgression and she would not cease her recollection of spending time with Lucifer.
This was the reason why he hated him. He could have lived a perfect life and his former beloved would share the endless moments they had in the gardens of Eden with the burden of life being nonexistent. Then the pain came to him upon discovering the treachery of one of his sons, Cain and Able would have enjoyed life without jealousy and convictions for murder. The fallen son had to pay for giving him those troubles of being the first troubled father in the history of mankind.
It would soon change when the Holy Army quietly snuck into Hell behind the backs of the Department of Purgatory. Azrael had to be a complete fool to think that he would have a monopoly on the Isra network after the signing of the ceasefire treaty. At first, it was a recon mission to learn about the dark lord's plans in the case of war but that soon changed upon seeing the most beautiful creature he had laid eyes upon. Although he was expected to showcase piety and an upright manner, they merely got in the way of his desire for the Queen of the Succubus - Lilith. Her lithe form inspired passion and the need to make her his as a form of vengeance.
The snake had his way with Eve but he would have his way with his beloved. All the forbidden acts of pleasure would be released if this creature lay on his bedside if fate permitted. What better way to humiliate the ruler of Hell than to cuck him of his wife? Then there was Lucifer's daughter - an embodiment of his seed and defiance. The first soul who laid the foundation for mankind considered an opportunity to ravish her till her voice sang to the Heavens. Charlie did seem so eager to seek Heaven's assistance in redeeming the damned so perhaps he had an incentive to 'oblige' her hotel in return.
Adam had so many opportunities. If he could not break the fallen archangel in a fight, then he could break his emotions through his family.
Lute announced the timing of the meeting. "He is here, sir."
The exterminator straightened his back and raised his head tall with pride as the screen flickered from a void of darkness into displaying the true mastermind of these operations. An archangel sat alone in the center of a dark-lit room. Only one source of light lay above him with his silver and white armor, worn since the days of the War in Heaven until the devil fell from his throne. Few ever get a glimpse into this inner sanctum of silence, where the servant of God meditated and prayed.
His superior's face remained hidden underneath a helmet with a golden cross before raising his head to face the video call. "This must be important, Adam."
"It is, sire," He said in a respectful tone. Now was the time to issue the news to him, "The plan to terminate the agents from the Department of Heaven has gone well at first but now they're adapting."
"Azrael is good at protecting his pieces. What is the status of my fallen brother and his daughter?" The superior questioned to elaborate on the relations with the royal family. He would answer with his observations.
"The Fallen One and the Queen of the Succubus paid a visit to his daughter but has only been brief. Since then, he has returned to the palace as usual."
"Good. It is time that we end this charade once and for all but we shall not proceed with great haste. Surprise is still on our side and once it leaves us, there is little before the others find out," The archangel clasped his chin with his armored gauntlet and began to ponder. Minutes passed until his hand rested atop his knee, "Activate Epsilon Procedure before we move with the Beta as before. Make sure you've made your preparations."
Adam bowed his head to acknowledge his master. "By your command, Archangel Gabriel."
A promise was made at that hospital and Agent One intended to fulfill his end of the bargain. Deep down, he was unsure if D.H.O.R.K.S.'s interference with the affairs of the afterlife was genuine but that red-headed director was real enough. So he proceeded to drive to a rural town in Connecticut, far away from headquarters and management with his partner. They were to hand over the latest catch to some intermediaries at a church. The agent didn't know why these religious authorities were meant to pass it over but it certainly convinced him that some power was at work.
Agent Two was sitting in the passenger seat beside him. She reached into the cupholder between them and pulled a mocha drink into her hand, taking a sip before returning the cup to place. The young woman groaned but he knew it was the wound she took after the incident. Sedation played a hefty role in keeping her memory fuzzy of the events that transpired but hopefully, she wouldn't ask too many questions about their destination.
He decided the only way to prevent that question from cropping up was some small-time banter. The man began to speak as they turned left on a T-section, getting closer to the meeting. "How's your shoulder?"
"So long as we don't do anything strenuous, I'll be fine," She dismissed any concerns for worry with a wave of her hand. Then a deep breath was made from within, "Any reason why we're out here?"
"Remember that lamb fella that we caught awhile back?" So much for trying to avoid his real reasons.
"Yeah, what about it?"
"As it turns out, we pissed off the wrong people," He began as his conversation transitioned into the subject that was brought up with that director, "Apparently, Heaven caught wind of us and wants us to stop trying to capture demons."
They made their way towards a stop light and the man turned to find Agent Two confused at the revelation. Soon she looked at him and shook her head in disbelief. "They don't want us to find demons? Our entire organization is made for that!"
"Yep."
"That's it? What does that have to do with the sheep guy?" She asked while perplexed by such a request.
"He works for Heaven and they want him back," He answered before his foot pressed on the pedal and saw the church in brick and mortar. In front of the main entrance was a barren parking lot where two Christian priests were standing at the base of the steps. One was a Mexican father wearing a black robe as a younger Caucasian stood beside him, "There they are."
"So do we know anything about the guys we're meeting with?"
The information he had been given was sparse, giving him only coordinates and telling him to not be followed. Agent One didn't know what to make out of it back then but it didn't matter now. At the very least he and his partner were armed as they proceeded into the parking lot and prepared themselves to hand over their finding. "I got nothing but keep your sidearm close."
He unlocked the door and stepped out of the white van. Agent Two followed suit as they stepped out of the vehicle and approached the priests in a casual stroll. Their sunglasses hid the focus of their eyeballs as they were met by two smiling members of the church. This place was unsettling and he didn't know why.
"Hello, gentlemen." He began by stealing a glance from the Caucasian man in his black slacks and gray shirt, "I believe we have a meeting to deal with."
The Mexican priest to his left stepped forward and spoke. "My name is Father Garcia, hijo. It is quite a pleasure to meet you two. Do you have any names?"
"I am Agent One and the woman beside me is Agent Two. We work for the D.H.O.R.K.S."
"Ah, you are the ones the cardinals spoke of," The man beside the older father chuckled but the agent was used to that by now, "You are one of the rare few who have the opportunity to see a glimpse into God's inner workings. Where is he now?"
He looked over to his partner and nodded his head. "Fetch him."
"John, get the cabinet. I believe we all have uninvited guests." It was a tone of suspicions being confirmed; yet, all it brought was confusion.
"What are you talking about?" Agent One was curious as he noticed the old man's face hardened with resolve as his gaze focused elsewhere. He turned around to see what troubled him and as Agent Two brought the creature of Heaven from the van, three red sedans approached with great speed, ignoring the traffic lights on their way towards them. "What is going on?"
"Step inside the church. We are about to be besieged."
A cold chill ran down his spine as the group immediately rushed into the church. Upon entering, the old father closed the two doors on his way inside. It was baffling how quickly everything devolved.
Agent Two was taken by surprise "What the Hell?!"
The younger father walked past him while carrying two shotguns in hand. He had seen many things in his line of work, strange sights but a priest carrying a twelve-gauge shotgun was not one of them. "Careful with the language. We are in a house of God!"
"Who is trying to attack us?" She asked as the servant of Heaven fluttered in the air.
"Satanic cultists. They probably followed you guys on your way here. This town has some problems and we have been sanctioned to cleanse it of taint."
Soon the Mexican priest grabbed the shotgun and pumped the loading mechanism before patting his younger counterpart on the shoulder. "Hold the door, I need to get you three out of here."
"Can we help you?" She asked curiously as they looked at the robed gentlemen walking past the empty chairs within the church. Father Garcia pressed onward towards the altar with haste, "We're armed and can assist."
"Not with this. John and I have a mission here and bringing you along would hamper it." His answer came before his free hand made the sign of the cross towards a replica of Jesus Christ. Then he made a muffled prayer to himself.
"Hey, sheep guy. Any idea what he's doing?"
Agent One looked to the creature of Heaven and saw him shrug his shoulders. "I don't know. I'm only used to helping humans on Earth, not learning about them."
"En nomine Patri, please grant these souls a safe blessed passage!" His words were filled with conviction as he took the moment to turn around and look at the three arrivals to this spiritual sanctuary, "This is all that I am allowed to do. You three are on your own."
"Why are we included? Can't we run to the van and drive off?" Questioned the young man. Surely this had to be a mistake and not a problem that got them further in trouble. Maybe this old coot was hit wrong in the head? Yet, he shook his head and cocked his shotgun.
"You can try but these cultists will not let you go far. The Holy Father will grant you a way out, should you choose to permit it."
The fabric of reality began to change in front of the altar. Behind the priest, a portal ripped open and revealed a red gleaming hole that led elsewhere. Heavy knocks smashed into the church doors as ramblings of men and women screamed outside. Father Garcia stepped forward and strode past them, joining his counterpart for the would-be breach. Agent One looked at the elderly man, baffled by his willingness to stand his ground but amazed by the contentment. "We can't leave you two behind."
"We are holy warriors trained to deal with the unspeakable and servants of the Profane Sabbath," He replied while tearing his black robes away from his person, revealing ammo belts containing shotgun shells, "Go, the portal will not stay open forever!"
He could not conjure the words as the two humans and the cherub ran towards the portal with haste in their footing. Agent Two pulled out her sidearm and exchanged glances with him before jumping into the endless depths, screaming. The angelic creature seemed unnerved but he slowly flew in after her.
Now it was his turn. All of this seemed so unbelievable to a simple man working for an agency with an idiotic name. Before he got a chance to join his partner, the sounds of splinters and shattered wood snapped his attention. Looking back, dozens of red-robbed men and women chanted in Latin, rushing over to the two priests with complete disregard. They each carried bloodied knives in their hands but it was not enough as Garcia and John unleashed a hailstorm of pellets at the broken entrance.
A feeling in his stomach told him that it was wrong to leave them behind but he would not abandon his friend to the mysterious destination. His eyes broke contact and Agent One jumped into the portal, feeling regretful despite all reason telling him otherwise.
Minutes passed as he floated towards what seemed to be a bottomless crimson pit. It was enough time to contemplate what got him here as his mind trailed back to the medical center where the FBC met with him. Maybe there was a reason this secret society of strange creatures rarely showed themselves to the public. What exactly could it be? Why were they discouraged from ever revealing this knowledge in the first place?
The contemplation ended when his feet landed first and the man yelled for surprise as he stumbled into concrete pavement. Despite falling over, his legs were fine and he didn't feel his tendons tearing themselves apart.
His partner's voice gave him comfort upon hearing her. "Agent One, are you okay?!"
"Yeah, it's not the worst landing," Hands reached around his arms as she pulled him off the ground. As his legs stabilized on solid ground and his mind didn't feel the urge to make him puke, he looked up and gave himself time to observe his surroundings. They were brought into a city and yet the sky was red. Every aspect of this setting did not feel right, "Where are we?"
"We're in Hell." Stated the formerly released Cherub.
The duo turned around to see him floating with his back facing them. Yet, his eyes were facing toward a massive building towering above the trio. Then his jaw dropped at the sheer height of being brought in front of such a structure. He looked upwards to find a sign in red lettering with golden lights displaying its shame for all to see.
"We're at the Hazbin Hotel."
Author's Note: Quite a twist, eh? A lot of shit is going down and now I'm tossing characters in places they shouldn't be in. That being said, I now have to get some proper names as using Agent One and Agent Two isn't going to cut it. Got to work on minimizing my procrastination in-between chapters just so I don't use my time as an excuse to play Ultrakill.
SilverExcel115: Believe me, I like the relationship dynamics I've been building up for this fic. It's a shame that I'm not receiving a lot of reactions/reviews that will appreciate that. As for Artyom, well, he's going to have a moment where he will snap and he'll have "La Signora Phase II Theme" being played in the background to represent everything from the second chapter.
Unknow Man: Post-apocalypse stalkers really don't have room for bullshit.