We intentionally skipped a very important moment. So, we're gonna have to clean it up. Don't look at me, my editor thought it would be funny to mess with you. (HH: It was. I will do it again.)

HH: So yeah, this is the secrets chapter, where all those spicy plotlines I've been cooking for the last couple of chapters begin to weave together in a particularly vile soup because I accidentally added capitalism. Sorry :(

A Hunter's Guide for Running a Hotel

XIX

Eldritch Bombshell

A DAY PRIOR…

BACK IN THE HUNTER'S DREAM…

"What does the name K̴̦̔o̴̻̚ŝ̵͖ mean to you?"

"My ex-boyfriend's great-aunt? I don't think I've ever talked to her, but what does she have to do with this?"

"Huh?" The Hunter was dumbfounded. That being had been there since the beginning of Yharnam. It was the event that created the Hunters, the Church, the endless Night. She caused the deaths of many and the madness of many more, yet the Princess was familiar with her? "You…know her…?"

Here, Charlie grimaced. "Well…know her is a strong word. She's part of the Von Eldritch family, and they've been around forever. Apparently, she's one of the older ones, and has uh, 'issues' when it comes to memory. Her and some of her friends live together, and they don't really communicate with the rest of the family often." Her posture slowly relaxed, as she rested her head on one palm, the other arm gesturing for emphasis. Charlie was in her element now, chatting like the Hunter was her bestie, eagerly soaking in her words. "Sevy told me that she used to be really sweet once, and that she always wished to have kids of her own, but never could. He also said she used to go topside when the rules weren't as strict, and her exploits in her youth were legendary. Did you know, the Loch Ness Monster was her skinny dipping? There's so much more about her that I couldn't believe was real in a million years, like-"

While Charlie was gushing about the admittedly epic tales of Kos in her prime, the Hunter was trapped within another moral dilemma, the tips of his fingers digging into the bridge of his nose, as a dark cloud settled around him. How could he have known? To think, the afflicted creature he had granted mercy to, was the child of such a beloved being? To think that the still, pale corpse washed upon the rocky shore had been more than the blood and the madness that had cursed Yharnam for years untold. How cruel fate is, to let a life so vast, so powerful, die with such indignity. And he had been there, the butcher of countless bloodlines. What more could have been done? They had been maddened, all of them. Had they?

His mind flashed back to the Great terrors he had faced. Amygdala, the many armed beings that crept across the cities of Yharnam, stalking the streets below unseen. 'Stalking, or curious? Rarely did they attack, and the ones that did acted as guards. Were they loyal dogs, or simple creatures?'

Ebriates, the Church's object of worship. 'It did not attack me when I first arrived. It was knelt over the body on the altar. Was it mourning the loss of its kin?'

Rom, the vast spider that had hid the true nature of Yharnam. 'Was it truly evil to hide such horrors from the mortal eyes of men?'

The strange, invisible being covered by a cloak, just before the end of the Night, drawn to the sound of a crying babe. 'Or…I had been drawn to the sound of it. It was formless, as was the child. Was it protecting the babe, or was the babe protecting itself?'

And the final horror of the Night. The Moon Presence. It had been his anchor for a long while, his only tether to the un-life he had suffered. It had healed him, and it had tortured him. It had broken him, and it had saved him. It had killed him and he had murdered it. 'What was its goal? Why had I, of all others, been spared? I slaughtered its kin, desecrated its plans, yet why was I granted sanctuary and respite? For what purpose did it need me? I shall never know, yet it shall haunt me unto eternity. Was I ever truly just in my actions, or was I merely as depraved as the creatures I hath slain?'

Steel glinted in his eye, as he broke free from the descending spiral his mind was being trapped within. 'No. They made their choices, I made mine. Theirs was to cause the madness of many chasing some unknown desire, mine was to survive at any cost. The minds of men are not to be shaped to one's desire, nor shall the blood of innocents be cursed for their ignorance. Yharnam was a mistake, and has thus been rectified.' Internally slumping a bit, he remembers the many victims of said mistake. 'If only I could have saved more than myself and the Doll, then my soul could rest free of torment.'

"Hunter…" The Hunter, still morose, looked to the Princess of Hell, the one who had saved him, and found the look that she had whenever someone she cared about was suffering. "You seem sad, are you alright?"

No. No he wasn't. Everything he had done in Yharnam, he had done to survive. Upon receiving his Saw Cleaver and Hunter's Pistol in the workshop after his first and most terrifying death, his path had crossed with horrors and hellions, saints and sinners, and had broken him into the mess that he is now. The numerous deaths he had suffered by the men and monsters he encountered, learning how the Healing Church operated, and… *sigh*. He couldn't take it anymore.

He was ready, whether he liked it or not. His eyes locked onto the Princess', as steel filled his very bones. "No. I have not for a very long time, to be truthful. But… it has been getting better, thanks to you. Do you recall what the Doll told you of me, on your first visit here?"

Charlie nodded, the… person? thing?... Doll being a curious fixation these past few days, as well as the pain she had described. "Yeah, she told me a bit about what you survived, but it felt strange, because how? How can you die without dying?"

"Then perhaps you would want to hear what I went through from my side of the story." He replied with a heavy tone of solemnity. "You deserve this much at least. Now, be warned, this is not a pleasant story, not to hear nor to recall. I shall be suffering alongside you." His hands were shaking. Why wouldn't they STAY STILL?!

Charlie reached across the table, placing her hand on his. The same hand that had been a vice clamp slowly relaxed, lying palm up on the table. "It's okay. I promise I'll be here for you." And she was. This wasn't Yharnam, this wasn't the Nightmare. It was safe here.

With renewed courage and a grounding weight upon his hand, he described his sordid tale to the Princess, who was a beacon of warm hellfire in the dark depths of his mind. While visions of blood and hunger danced across his mind as they spilled from his mouth, he was kept in reality by the angel disguised as a demon. He told her of his first foray into the cold streets, of oil lamps and broken carriages and coffins piled high and chained shut in fear of their resident's reanimation. He told her of fearful, paranoid people with twisted features and sharp tools, burning torches and old rifles, standing guard against the very people sworn to their protection, burning all that dared roam the streets at night. He told her of dark, damp and smelly sewers teeming with life too foul for the surface, of a lost child and her parents, a crushed body and a blood soaked ribbon. He told her about what used to be a cleric, leaping over a great wall to scream it's pain and fury into the night sky. He told her about a man as broken as he was, drowning in madness and grief with the twinkling notes of an old music box, turning into a monster before his very eyes. He told her of the other Hunters he had met on his journey; crows and vilebloods and holy men alike, all drowned in the same blood. He told her of the Church, its lies and its bloody secrets. He told her everything without missing any key details that may pique her interest. So far, she was horrified at the things he had gone through, but when he had mentioned the 'Great Ones', Charlie began to feel dread. He told her what he had learned, that they were once Great Beings from beyond who were worshiped by the previous denizens of Yharnam, the ancient Pthumerian people. She had tried to find more about them after waking from the dream a while ago, but could find little in comparison to the practical vault of history that was her host. She already knew about the people twisted in their image, the 'Kin' thanks to reading the Hunter's Journal, but was given more information about them and the other beings. All of that, in one night? It must have been a really bad curse.

While he continued to slowly unravel at the seams in front of her, she held his hand throughout the painful, agonizing memories. It was the least she could do, since he was spilling his heart in her hands. "As I continued through the research hall, and climbed to the top of the grand staircase, I stumbled upon a familiar face, sitting silently within the clocktower. At first I thought it was a recently fallen Hunter, but…" He let out a sigh, feeling the large gears turning above his head, as if he were there again. "Another Hunter, Simon, told me of one named Maria. He had said she guarded the secrets of the Nightmare with a bitter, burning blade. I had not expected her to be eerily similar to her…" He trailed his eyes to the Doll, who was happily occupied with cleaning the mess I.M.P had made in their short visit.

The Princess of Hell, connecting a few more dots in an already creepy pattern, shivered at the thought of how his Mentor, Gerhman, created his closest 'friend' modelled from that deadly Huntress. Then he had told him to 'use it as you please'. She didn't have strong feelings against that kind of thing normally, but normally they weren't alive and serving her tea. "She was one of your Mentor's first students, right? Why was she there in the first place?"

"The secret, which she had slain countless souls protecting, was the birthplace of every horror that befell me that Night. The blood curse, the Healing Church, the existence of the Nightmare. I didn't know what she was guarding at the time, but now? Now I wish I had avoided her." He responded, voice growing despondent. "Instead, at the cost of many visceral deaths, I defeated her. The last of the Old Hunters, a broken body in a long abandoned sanctum, slain by the hand of a monster. From there, I found one of the last horrors of the night. The first of our many sins, a fishing village off of a long forgotten coast. The people possessed something the Hunters wanted: the secrets of divinity. So, they destroyed it, butchering and plundering all of the inhabitants, who were kept alive by their own tainted faith and twisted flesh. It is here, in the home of madness itself, where I discovered the secret. The corpse of Kos, desecrated by the same group from Bergenwyrth, which Lady Maria was a part of. She had felt guilt and shame untold after the deed was done, and had thrown her weapon away, before taking her own life."

Charlie's breath shivered. She knew it was going to be bad, but this was way worse. The disappearance of the old Von Eldritch Member was finally solved at least. "And…what happened then?" She was going to regret this.

A shaky sigh escaped through his lips, as he broke down even further. "Kos was pregnant with a child." Flashes of the creature tearing out from the Great One's rotting womb forced his eyes shut. "It was born an orphan, cold, alone, and fearful. Stillborn it was, its newborn body rotted and its features disfigured. It was locked in the same undeath that plagued all creatures of this cursed realm, and was maddened by its very existence. And I…I slew it."

Charlie's eyes widened at this revelation. Von Eldritch pregnancies take a long, looong time to gestate, and it's very rare for the seeds to even sprout in the first place. There's a reason that, even being around for so long, there aren't a lot of them. A Von Eldritch dying, her body defiled by scavengers was one thing. But a baby being born from her dead corpse, shortly before being killed by the man sitting before her!? It was a lot to take in. "I…I didn't know you did that Hunter. I-I just don't know what to say-"

"I know." Regret, guilt. He had once felt that he had done the right thing, but now these feelings festered in his heart. "Now that I know that they were more than monsters, I see the truth of my existence. I am the same monster they warned you about." Perhaps Maria was right, in a way. Perhaps she had made the right decision, ending the life of one last monster…

"Don't say that." The hand on his became a vice on his shoulder. He looked up, into Charlie's eyes, blazing with fire. "What you did, although deplorable, was necessary, Hunter. She was dead, and you had to put her child out of its misery. I can't imagine the kind of pain it was going through, and I wouldn't have wanted it to suffer. From what I knew of her, Kos wouldn't either. I know you didn't have a choice, but you did what you had to do."

He looked down and stared at his empty teacup, not sure when everything got so blurry. "Do you really believe you can still trust me? A monster that slaughters all in his path?" His voice was starting to get a bit broken too, maybe he should clear his throat.

Charlie could tell he was reaching his limit. Both of her hands went to his, squeezing them tightly to prevent him from slipping any further. "I do. I know I can, because you are not a monster, you saved all of those people, and I know I can save you too." As the Hunter listened, and tears began their descent, he reflected on the souls he'd freed along the way, or witnessed flicker out, too late to save. Simon, Adeline, Bandor, Maria. Regardless of their past, all of them had suffered, and all of them had to have atoned for their sins.

"I…" The Hunter's voice was raspy, barely able to contain himself as his tears began to soak his mouth cloth. He let go of one of the Princess' hands to wipe the uncontrollable tears that were streaming from his eyes. Since that wasn't working, he decided to look down onto the ground. He cleared his voice. "You're right, Miss Morningstar. I'm sorry for this shameful display."

"Don't apologize for showing how you feel, Hunter." She spoke softly to this hurt person as she got up from her seat and walked to the Hunter as she gave him a much needed hug. She held him against her chest, under the crook of her neck, despite his height. Most Sinners would have had many degenerate thoughts, but the Hunter felt none of these, instead feeling the jagged edges that had chafed him for so long begin to be smoothed out by the cascade of grief leaking from behind his rapidly-dissolving facade. Her heartbeat was a steady and stable drum, beating apart the sorrows and dreads that had built into a dark wall around his heart and mind. "It's ok to cry when you're sad, and it's ok to say when you aren't ok. I'm here for you, and so is everyone else, whether they act like it or not."

The Hunter saw the truth now. He had been abrasive and unrelenting towards the hand that had fed him, yet it had stayed extended nonetheless. He had doubted the thin beam of hope that had shone through the dark and turbulent storm, yet now it was a lighthouse that pierced his very soul. His hope held him close as he shivered from the weight of his actions truly bearing upon him in full. He had killed, he had slaughtered, Oh God he had sinned. But still forgiveness was present, even in the darkest part of Hell. Not in a book of holy words, nor a sermon or temple, but in the eyes and arms of the blood of Hell itself.

The Hunter's iron will begin to shatter like stained glass.

While this continued, the Doll watched the scene after cleaning up. She couldn't help but smile serenely at the sight before him. She'd comforted him during the gestation period, as well as being his sole friend during the past three-hundred years, and it was her responsibility to take care of his well being. But he needed more than just a Doll, he needed more than one person in his life. To think the Princess of Hell was willing to take that task up was a truly joyous sight to see. She thought of Vaggie, and knew that while there was to be confusion and anger, the calm and steady hand of the Princess would help both parties reach an understanding. Although, it would be amusing to witness.

-Scene Change-

MEANWHILE IN HELL…

In an unknown, top secret location in Hell that few of even the most powerful nobles in Hell were allowed knowledge of (top floor of one of the tallest buildings in Pride, with a Beezleburger joint across the hall), seven of the most unique and powerful people were gathered in a meeting room, creating solutions for a unique and dangerous problem. The sound of a clock ticking echoed through the silence as all were in deep thought, an unusual and potentially concerning position for any that knew any of them enough. The pressure and tension was reaching iceberg levels, and the windows were beginning to frost over from the cold minds and calculations of the seated individuals. That was until a particularly hungry hybrid broke the tension. "Are we gonna talk about the signal, or are we just gonna stare at the table!?" She was sick of this! All this waiting and planning, when she could be chasing it to its source!

Sin of Gluttony: Beezlebub

"We are thinking, Bee." The giant rooster-like demon told his friend. "This hasn't happened in a long time, and since none of us were ready for it to start here, we have to make entirely new plans. I don't think I even have the equipment anymore!" At his remark, the female Sheep/Alpaca blinked the glaze from her eyes, before plonking her head on the table as she went back to sleep.

Sin of Lust: Asmodeus

Sin of Sloth: Belphegor

The fat, four armed demonic jester wasn't too keen to his colleague's suggestion, knowing he'd have to foot the bill. Again. "No, not happening! There's no fuckin' way I'm spilling a single cent for this bullshit hunt! Against a fuckin' Eldrtich entity! It's gonna cost me three goddamn fortunes!" He was, as per usual, thinking with his incredibly hefty and padlocked wallet. The kind of things they'd need to handle this sort of problem needed rare materials, were incredibly complicated to make, had to be perfect to the inch, and impossible to mass produce.

That meant it'd have to be custom made by an expensive team of professionals, with exotic and often precious materials he would have to find and pay for, using techniques and tools he'd also have to pay for, and none of this is considering he'd have to do it seven times. There's a reason he hated these assignments, because since he was the richest (and for once that didn't make him feel good) Sin, he was the only one capable of coughing up the dough required.

Sin of Greed: Mammon

…Curse the Fiends…

The dark sky, or at least the dark stone ceiling, was brightened with the pale light reflecting from the equally pale city. Silver it had been named, and silver it was adorned, gilded, and built with. While it had been dull and rusted for decades, things had changed for the strange, oft forgotten city. Blood stained and graffitied walls and cracked pavement turned to hand-carved marble and silver-brick roads. Opium dens and gang holdouts became storefronts and housing. Suspicious figures and pitch black alleyways changed to… well that didn't really change, there's only so much progress one can achieve in Hell. Not all was perfect, but things were better. For the first time in far too long, the city had hope. Most did, anyway. As the night continued, and the fog that had caused many confusing turns began to fall heavily upon the streets, a bird took flight. A hawk, or something that looked like one, glided silently over the city. Dark were its wings and red was its plumage, the reflected lights shining in its beady, intelligent eyes. In the street below, was an odd sight outside of the Renaissance cities or various arenas that dotted Wrath. A genuine horse-drawn carriage. True, the horses were Hellhorses with dark hoods and piercing eyes, and sure, the carriage just so happened to look like a black coffin, and yeah, it was more modern than it likely needed to be, but aside from those things it was close enough to the ones found in museums.

The hawk reached its destination, and began to dive. Its aim was the carriage, and the open roof. As it plunged, it began to change, bones becoming denser and longer, flesh becoming heavier and tougher. When it was fifty feet above the target, wings snapped out one final time, turning to hands gripping the edges of a cloak, killing enough downward momentum to turn a fatal fall into a slight drop. Which it did, directly onto the back seat of the carriage, causing the surprisingly robust suspension to dip slightly, before leveling out again. The hawk, or, the Sinner, finished the change, and the now-woman leaned into the dark plush bench, feeling the last few things setting into place.

"Find anything?" She looked up to the driver, an older Imp adorned in the selfsame style coat she adorned. He, as well as any other of their group, were familiar with the many tools that lined the insides, as well as whatever personal tricks he kept in the deep pockets. Forgoing the tricorne in favor of his favorite newsboy cap, his easy, yet cautious demeanor, as well as the various patches and stitches along his coat, rounded out his character as one of the more experienced Hellborn recruits. However, while he was admittedly skilled in a fight, his talents were behind the reins of a team of horses, leading to his 'promotion' of being her personal driver fifty years ago.

"Nothing. It is likely not as severe as I had feared, which I am grateful for." She had begun this search on a gut feeling that something was wrong, but thus far it was apparent her fears had been misplaced. A pleasant surprise, to be sure, but she wasn't going to call it off just yet. Something just felt off, even if she couldn't see it. The fog had felt… thicker, more heavy when she had traversed through it, and the telltale scent of ozone had her senses convinced a storm was approaching. He was up to something, she was sure of it. However, she was also on the tail end of a three day stake out, and was beginning to hunger for a shower and a meal that wasn't mice or rats. "Take us home, I will continue the search tomorrow."

"Aye aye." With a snap of the reins, they were off.

… Their Children, too …

"We'll get that equipment, no matter the cost. Catching one of those things is top priority, especially considering my daughter is in danger!" Lucifer, King of Hell, Dark Prince of Evil, was a mess, mentally and physically. The bags under his eyes had dipped into suitcases, his once immaculate hair and suit were both wrinkled and messed, and he had lost his hat at some point. He had been this way ever since the signal had been picked up by his coffee pot.

Well, technically, it was potentially the most advanced radio in existence, capable of picking up any energy on every frequency in every layer of reality, as well as a thousand-odd other things. Problem was, he couldn't remember when he got it, who made it, nor where the manual for it was, and it was so complex he couldn't for the life of him remember a tenth of its features, mostly the specific buttons to press to make a decent cup of coffee. One of the lights has been blinking for the past three years, but since he didn't know what it was for, he ignored it for the time being. But one of the few things that had been labeled had activated, and to his horror, it was one of the bells that chimed when Eldritch energy was detected, with each bell signifying each Ring. To his further dread, the ringing bell had been the one that had never rung before: Pride. The closest one of those things had gotten to the surface was a century ago, when one appeared seemingly out of nowhere in Wrath, in what had once been a butcher's shop. No one really cared that the meat was mutated, until the shop started selling it alive. The small town the butcher fed also changed, growing eyes and hair in places eyes and hair should not be. When the Sins were notified, it was too late to save them, all of them long since succumbing to madness or dying horrible deaths. The horrors they found in the back of the shop were burned from history, and the culprit, a single, hairy eyeball, was cast into the hungry pit of Gluttony, and devoured instantly.

That was the easiest one they had ever dealt with, just showing up, balking at the stench, yelling at Bee for trying to eat one of the eyes, yelling at Mammon for robbing the empty bank, punching the possessed butcher in the face, and erasing the building. The fifty pages of paperwork were an afterthought. The average ones can think, the harder ones can move, and the most difficult of all fight back.

But regardless of any of that, one was in his Ring, close to his Charlie. And he couldn't fucking find it!

Sin of Pride, King of Hell: Lucifer Morningstar

'This song and dance again.' Asmodeus should have kept his mouth shut. Two sets of eyes rolled for different reasons. One from amusement, and one out of frustration. This happened every time without fail whenever money was involved. Lucifer couldn't give less of a shit about the budget, while Mammon was the budget, due to his exponentially inflating wealth. Every time someone of substantial greed died, Mammon claimed all assets. So he could afford to pay for anything in existence, but due to his nature, he refused. Lucifer, however, never really hoarded money like the Sin of Greed was known to do. Any and all money he got was spent on his family, or whatever caught his fancy this century. He never seemed to keep a good hand on his coin, but thanks to Lilith, finances were never something he had to worry about. While some would think to hold Lucifer accountable for his spending habits, no one was feeling like telling the King of Hell what he could or couldn't burn his cash on.

However, this led to the unfortunate conclusion of the miser being the budget for events such as these, as well as having to negotiate, threaten, and demand every single coin out of his purse. Leading to this exact scenario, too many times and counting.

Sin of Envy: Leviathan

… And Their Children…

The hand made roads, expert driving, and incredible suspension made for a perfectly smooth ride, as the once-royal stared into her glass, and slowly swirled the red contents within. She hadn't really read which bottle it had come from, and absentmindedly tried to guess based on viscosity alone. Blood? Wine? Something else? She downed it regardless, and anticipated the taste. Nothing. As per usual. When was the last time she had tasted anything? She tried to remember the steak she had eaten her first day in Hell, oh so long ago. It was the first thing she had eaten in days, all too consumed with her own wicked mind pulling itself apart, rejecting what she had become, what she had done. But the smell of cooked beef had brought her back from whatever trance she was under, opening her eyes that this was her life now. When she had torn into it, she could already feel something wasn't right, and it was only by looking into the shards of the mirror in the bathroom she instinctively shattered that the nightmare became reality. Her warped reflection in her glass stared impassively back at her, the hooked beak and dusty feathers marking her as a hawk. She had realized, later, that hawks didn't have teeth, so the razors that fit within her jaws certainly didn't belong, nor did the plumage spackled with red, nor did her hands, nor did her eyes. The eyes, it seems, were the one thing she was allowed to keep. To remind her, whenever she saw herself, in a mirror or a pool of blood, of who the strange figure was. An apt punishment indeed, as she refused to even glance in water for her first three decades here. But now…

Glowing blue chips of ice bore through her, as the dark could hide nothing from her anymore, no matter how hard she tried to avoid it. It was how she had noticed, after all. Even when she was three miles away, she was still able to see, through smoke, fire, and countless bodies, him. It was not him that had created the conflagration, and she had been there merely to ensure the blaze did not spread. But even through the screams of terror, the laughter of the insane, and the sizzling of many bystanders' hotdogs and marshmallows, she could see the cold mist spilling from the alleyway. She could see the way the shadows stretched beyond reason, darkening into an abyss. And she saw when the monster stepped forth, with the stolen blood and belongings of far too many. She had felt very little for the majority of this life, her heart growing stony, and her vision growing gray and lifeless. But when she saw him, pure hate pierced her, filling her eyes with red, demanding she rip his heart from his chest and crush it… She had almost, then and there, taken off, to destroy his rotten soul. But, she had relented, because while he may have been a monster, so was she. She could not truly blame him, when she had committed as many sins as he, regardless of cause.

But, that did not mean she forgave him, nor did she let him go unsupervised. For the past three years, she and her group have been watching him, to ensure that no further 'mistakes' occur. Her main fear was that he still carried the Blood, and could potentially spread the disease across the entirety of Hell. If both Hells combined, then all Hell would break loose, and there would truly be Hell to pay. Hell would freeze over before she allowed that to happen, however. (HH: Yeah I know what I did. Fuck you) But, he had been suspiciously quiet in his new life. His actions had been… confusing, to say the least. He had ascended, yet he did not partake in the hard-fought spoils he had attained. He continued to act as though he was still human, which was somehow amusing. She was closer to being human than he was, yet he was the one still pretending. If she could smile, if she could laugh, she almost would have. Almost.

She turned the glass over, thinking if she should bother filling it again, before a new sense snapped her head to the window. Nothing was moving on the empty street, everyone trying to avoid the…rain…

It never rains here.

The fog was gone, the view was clear, something was wrong. The district had been under a constant shroud of fog and mist ever since the Hunter had claimed it, and now it was raining? He was doing something. The driver was aware of this too. "Works not done yet, looks like." As he looked into the suddenly stormy sky, as the rain poured, and poured, and poured, he couldn't help but notice there was no thunder.

'So you're blubbering huh? Wonder what's making you bawl like a bitch?'

He had guessed a while back that the fog was the closest thing they could get to gauging this guy's current state of mind, with the heavier fog meaning that their quarry was up to some bullshit. Only other thing they had figured out so far was that Thunder meant he was pissed. He personally dreaded the day when lightning started falling from the sky.

… Forever, true…

While the meeting began to devolve into yet another shouting match, the largest demon remained uncharacteristically quiet, deep in his own thoughts. One would think he was just a hulking bruiser with a temper and a law fetish, but there was a lot more happening inside his rather large head, including the ways to hammer this nail. He currently had three. The first was the most common way, as well as the most complex. Theoretically, he could slog through this mess himself, do some dirty work and earn some overtime. Problem was, he was a big dude with a lot of influence. And influence meant witnesses, and witnesses meant stealth, a big part of these operations, was a no-go. After all, it don't matter how many people promise to keep quiet, only one person can keep a secret. If word gets out to Heaven that the Sin of Wrath was personally duking it out against something with too many of everything? They'd ask questions, they'd demand answers, and they'd start looking. Doesn't matter how good they are at hiding bodies, Heaven's army doesn't care about what they have to trash in order to get what they want. This is just the worst case, where at least five people with phones are watching. The best case, is that while no one sees him, no one finds him, and the jobs done in an hour, he's gonna have to document every second of that hour, go through fifteen decontamination sequences, have seventeen witnesses for an alibi, and somehow do all of this while he's following the law to the letter.

That law being: "If you see any Eldritch influence in Hell, immediately report it to Heaven."

Key word: see

If he just so happens to never see what he's thrashing, if he doesn't see what the mutilated corpse looks like, if he nevers sees the important bits on the paperwork, then he's off the hook. Doing all of the above, while also having to very carefully pay attention to not paying attention, is incredibly migraine inducing.

The worst option was asking Heaven for help. Not only was it sandpaper against his pride, not only was it practically useless in the end result, but every time they sent a Saint, and it was always with a squad of Exorcists to 'assist' their superior, when in reality they were free to do whatever they wanted in Hell. Killing, stealing, raping, nothing was beneath them. And when they left, it was always with the promise that they'd be back. That was the absolute last resort, and he's only had to do it once. Never again.

The last option was much more favorable, yet a bit more law-bending. One of the contacts he had picked up a while back was good for exactly one purpose: silencing every bit of Unknown danger to Hell's General Public. Their effectiveness was beaten by none, only being edged out by his more useful contacts' time and cost. But, he always kept them close, in case something like this happened, and he would be able to wipe his hands of it. This was their specialty, after all. Maybe he'll be lucky, and they're already on it. He'd be too lucky if that were the case, though a devil can dream.

He made his choice. Hiring them would give himself room to breathe, plus a whopping zero pages of paperwork. To get the attention of the already loud and chaotic room, he did the one thing that made sense: yelling over everyone else.

"ORDER!"

After their ears stopped ringing, and Lucifer was pried down from the ceiling like the cat he was, the other Six Sins faced him. Asmodeus and Beezlebub, knowing his track record with ideas, felt skeptical of what he was going to suggest, thinking it would be something along the lines of "fight the thing with our bare hands". "What do you have to suggest Satan?"

Sin of Wrath: Satan

"I have contacts that do some of my dirty work for me, as I'm sure all of you do as well." All of them nodded their heads, then glanced at each other, wondering just how much each person seated actually did. Lucifer was the only one who hadn't, seeing as he wasn't a lazy bum. Belphegor also hadn't but that's because she was a lazy bum. "Mine are simple: catch, kill, erase. Three separate types of contacts, three separate types of jobs. I also need them to be efficient, well armed, and stealthy. Of all my contacts, I have not enough of the first, too many of the second, and exactly three of the third" Satan had risen from his seat, and was walking to the window to face the city below. "Only one of all of them fits the criteria we need. However, essentially sourcing mercenaries is, unfortunately, illegal for us." "Well, why waste our time then?" Bee was already tired of this. Was his plan to talk them asleep, so he could sneak out and fight it himself again? That trick wouldn't work a sixt-no, seventh time.

"Because there is a way of doing so, that makes it harder to prove that I made the order. It's a very unique, very secret, and very ancient method."

Tensions were rising again, the devil's shadow was looming over the entire table, the other Sins starting to worry about this 'method'.

"...And that method is?" Lucifer was curious, what was this technique that made the impossible happen?

"Plausible deniability."

…

"Huh?" "What the fuck do you mean pl-"

"All that buildup for this sh-"

"Oh come the fuck o-"

"Really? That's it? I tho-"

"ZZZzzzZZZ"

"If I told you all to, for no particular reason, face the wall, plug your ears, and start making random noises, could you hear or see me make a -hypothetical- phone call?"

…

'Damn that devil' Bee and the others were facing away from the window, towards the wall, with whatever counted as hands being shoved into whatever counted as ears, as the longest phone call in existence went on directly behind her. She was just yelling whatever insults came to mind, along with Mammon and Leviathan. The others were at least pretending to talk, Lucifer and Asmodeus somehow having a conversation via reading each other's nonexistent lips, while Belphegor had passed out a while back, and was probably never a security concern for the, again, longest phone call in her fucking life.

Behind the clamor, Satan used another neat trick of plugging one ear and connecting an earbud to the other, so that no one could actually hear the other end of his conversation, and with the racket going on behind him, no one could hear his side. So, he was free to begin.

…

…

*Brrrrring*

…

*Brrrrring*

*Chk-a*

…

…

"Fear the Old Blood"

"And drown not in its sorrows"

…

"I believe a package of ours got mixed up, and it ended up on the prideful chap's front door, but he's lost it since"

"That's unfortunate to hear, can you give us some information so that we can track down and retrieve your package?"

"It's a rather large one, but I'm not sure what's in it. I just found out about it, from the man in the chair."

"Is there anything else that might help us, including the return address and stamp?"

"The return address should be Nevermore lane, and the stamp is a red truck."

"I believe I can locate your package, and I can have it delivered by Monday."

"If need be, I can wait until Wednesday. I just wanna make sure my wife doesn't find out, it's a surprise for her."

…

The rain was beginning to peter out, but she would not forget it for a while. If she was correct, and this was because of him…

"On closer review, your package can be shipped to you as early as Sunday. It looks like we've already sent someone to retrieve it."

"Thanks, and I- ah to hell with this cloak and dagger stuff. This line is as secure as it's ever gonna get. You're already after this one?"

The roads were soaked, but the fog hadn't returned yet, and she could see match her own gaze once again.

"Yes, and we have been for a while."

"How much do you know?"

"Enough."

"Good. Remember what I told you though: Whatever it is, it's in Pride, not sure where or what, but I want it gone, yesterday, before one of our neighbors gets wise."

"No need to worry, Sir." The reflection's eyes pierced deeper into her soul.

"We've already begun the Hunt."

Man, what a 'WHAM' way to end this story considering it's nearly new years day. And it looks like the Hunter had attracted more attention than he had hoped for. And not in a good way. GODAMNIT I.M.P! If you haven't been ambushing him for the past three years, he wouldn't have done that deal that gained attention from both Sins and Exorcists! Though, that is too late now and the Hunter would have to deal with this problem he caused. Alone.

I have a bad feeling about where this is heading next year. Though I can confirm that the Hunter won't be captured. I never planned to have him be put in that position.

Anyway, now that is out of the way, here are our notes.

Crimson Soldat: Since Bloodborne will be in its Ten Year Anniversary, you'll be seeing more chapters published. And also, I really need to upload more of the other stories like Dark Souls: Embers of Remnant and Caboose's Guide to make Friends in Hell. And no, HalfWitHilibily won't be helping with those two stories. I am capable of handling them.

HalfWitHillbilly: Ha! Y'all are gonna have to get your prescriptions somewhere else, because I'm out of Opium and black market fireworks to sell. Also I'm recovering from eating like a pig and then vomiting like a drunk. I'll be fine, maybe.

CS: Hunter's in deep shit. First is the Exorcists (led by both Adam and Lute). NOW it's Hell and their mercenaries. Oh man, he is fucked! Anyway, NEXT chapter will be a treat, since it is now focusing back on I.M.P. Just wait and see what we have for them, it'll blow your mind! (Well, someone's mind gets blown at least). Maybe they'll find out they bit off a teensy weensy little too much than they can handle.

HH: Eh, they'll be (not) fine, but who cares, they're just humans. Hey someone's knocking on my door one sec I'll be back.

Comment down below what you want to see in future chapters!

With that said, we'll see you in the next–

*muffled violence, followed by a thud, and the unmistakable sound of the editor's lifeless body being kicked into a corner*

?: Hello there!

CS: SIGH* Oh for the…CABOOSE! Why have you decided to invade this story?! You have one with the Helluvaverse, asshole!

?: Ooh, I can change this!

Lord Caboose, King of Friendship and Master of All Rainbows: Hi funny people! I'm in charge now!

CS: No, you're not!

Caboose: Why not?

CS: Do I have to repeat myself?

Caboose: Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmm, no…

CS: I'll take that as a no. And also, you have your own story to deal with.

Caboose: But-

CS: NOT buts, Caboose! Just focus on your own story for damn sake! Because unlike this story, you aren't on the same level as the Hunter! In fact, you're far more dangerous than him by far!

Caboose: Wait, you mean that tentacle hempai disguised as a human?

CS: YES, and It's HENTAI, you idiot! Don't get me started about those tentacle jokes! Unlike him, you're just a regular human, Caboose, that somehow did things the Hunter was able to hold back! I am still recollecting on how you did anything off-putting in your story.

Caboose: NEAT!

CS: NO, IT'S NOT NEAT, CABOOSE!

Caboose: Hm. Alright. I have to ask; are you gonna put me in this story?

CS: How about this? I'll give you $100 for Stellar Jades in exchange for NOT appearing in this story. I have plans for your story after all.

Caboose: *GASP* REALLY!? Oh, that is so Awesome! Thanks Mr author! Just let me grab my laptop and then you put in your bank details! *PROCEEDS TO LEAVE*

CS: C'mon, let's end this before he comes back and disrupts me. It's better to do it right before he comes back! He has his own story to tell! And from what I experienced, he's more unpredictable than the Hunter himself. But first, lemme revive HH first…

See you next year around, folks!