Chapter 4: Predators!
One late evening, while Blitz was out on an errand, he stumbled upon something that made his heart ache. In a dark alley, he found a small, malnourished hellhound pup cowering in a corner. Her fur was matted and dirty, her eyes wide with fear. Blitz approached cautiously, trying not to startle her.
"Hey there, little one," Blitz said softly, holding out his hand. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."
The pup, barely eight years old, looked at him with suspicion and pain. Her clothes were torn, and she flinched every time Blitz made a move. Her name, as Blitz would later find out looking at her collar, was Loona.
Loona's eyes were filled with the kind of fear that spoke of a harsh life. Hellhounds, despite being sentient demons, were often treated like property rather than beings with feelings and rights. Adoption centers for them were more like terrible pounds, and Loona's condition was a testament to that cruelty.
Blitz knelt down, trying to make himself as non-threatening as possible. "You don't have to be scared. I'm here to help."
After some coaxing and a bit of patience, Blitz managed to gently pick up the trembling pup. He wrapped her in his jacket and took her back to Verosika's place, his heart heavy with concern.
Blitz arrived with Loona, who was shivering but seemed to trust Blitz enough to remain calm. Verosika and Tilla were in the living room, engaged in animated conversation until they noticed Blitz's arrival.
"Blitz? What's that you've got there?" Verosika asked, noticing the bundle in his arms.
"This is Loona," Blitz said softly, laying the pup gently on the couch. "I found her in an alley. She's been through a lot."
Tilla's eyes softened as she looked at the pitiful creature. "Poor thing. Hellhounds are often treated terribly. It's a shameful part of our society."
Verosika's heart broke seeing Loona's condition. "We need to take care of her. She deserves a chance at a better life."
Tilla nodded in agreement, her maternal instincts kicking in. "Yes, we'll make sure she's properly cared for. And Blitz, you did a wonderful thing. She's lucky you found her."
Blitz watched as Verosika and Tilla carefully tended to Loona, providing her with food and a warm bed. Despite the difficult circumstances, the compassion and kindness shown to the little hellhound filled Blitz with a sense of hope. It was a small but significant reminder that, even in the darkest corners of Hell, there was still room for love and care.
As the night wore on, with Loona slowly settling into her new surroundings, Blitz couldn't help but reflect on how much had changed. The struggles and challenges they faced were far from over, but for the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of peace and optimism. The bond between him, Verosika, and Barbie had grown stronger, and now, with Loona joining their family, they had one more reason to hope for a brighter future.
The past week had been a whirlwind of worry and frustration for Verosika, Blitz, and Barbie. Loona's condition was dire—her small, scrawny frame spoke volumes about the neglect and abuse she had suffered. Despite their efforts, the pup remained silent, her eyes wide with a deep-seated fear that no amount of comfort seemed to dispel.
The little hellhound's nights were filled with restless tossing and turning, her howls of agony echoing through the small apartment. Verosika, Blitz, and Barbie had tried everything they could think of—tender care, soothing words, and even soft lullabies—but nothing seemed to ease her suffering. They felt powerless in the face of Loona's pain, unable to fully understand the extent of her trauma or how best to help her.
One morning, Verosika was attending to Loona's bandages, which had become soiled during the night. Her hands trembled slightly as she carefully removed the old bandages, her heart aching at the sight of Loona's injuries. The pup lay on a makeshift bed of blankets, her small body barely rising above the pile. Verosika worked in silence, trying to remain composed despite the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
Blitz, pacing nervously in the room, glanced at Barbie, who sat in the corner, her expression a mixture of guilt and determination. "We've tried everything, but nothing seems to help," Blitz said, frustration evident in his voice. "Why won't she talk to us? Why won't she let us help her?"
Barbie shook her head, her usual bravado replaced by concern. "It's not like we can just magically make her feel better. We don't even know if she was abandoned or if she ran away from somewhere. All we know is she's hurting, and we're running out of ideas."
Verosika, focusing on her task, let out a sudden gasp. She had peeled back a layer of bandages and was met with a sight that made her stomach churn. The injuries on Loona's small body were not just from neglect—they were signs of severe physical abuse. Deep bruises, fresh scars, and old wounds marred her skin. But it wasn't just the physical wounds that horrified Verosika; it was the realization that such cruelty could be inflicted upon a child so young.
Blitz and Barbie noticed Verosika's reaction and hurried over. "What's wrong?" Blitz asked, his voice filled with concern. "Is she worse?"
Verosika swallowed hard, her face pale. "It's worse than we thought," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "These injuries—this kind of abuse... I've seen it before. When I was a child, I saw similar things in the outskirts of the Lust Ring. It's... it's hard to think a child so young could have been subjected to such cruelty."
Barbie's eyes widened in horror. "Oh God, Verosika... are you saying she was abused like that? How is that even possible? What kind of monsters would do this to a child?"
Verosika nodded, her hands shaking as she continued to work on Loona's injuries. "It's a terrible part of our world. The outskirts are filled with people who see hellhounds and other lower-class demons as nothing more than property. They're abused, neglected, and left to suffer. Seeing Loona like this brings back memories I'd rather forget."
Blitz knelt beside Verosika, his own eyes filled with tears. "We have to do something. We can't just let her keep suffering like this. She deserves so much better."
Verosika looked at Blitz, her eyes filled with determination. "We need to find out more about her. There must be someone who knows where she came from or what happened to her. But first, we have to get her the medical attention she needs."
Barbie stood up, her expression resolute. "I'll reach out to some contacts. Maybe they can help us find more information or connect us with someone who can provide the care Loona needs."
Verosika, finishing up with the bandages, gently stroked Loona's head. The pup's eyes were closed, her small body twitching slightly in her restless sleep. "We'll figure this out, Loona," Verosika whispered. "You're safe now. We'll do everything we can to make sure you're okay."
As Verosika, Blitz, and Barbie worked together to help Loona, their bond grew stronger. They were united by their shared determination to provide the little hellhound with the care and love she so desperately needed. Though the road ahead was uncertain and filled with challenges, their compassion and resolve gave them hope. For Loona, and for themselves, they would face whatever came their way, determined to offer a glimmer of light in the darkness of their world.
Verosika carried Loona through the bustling streets of Hell's underbelly, her heart pounding with anxiety. The little hellhound was wrapped in a tattered blanket, her frail body shivering against the night chill. Verosika's eyes darted around, paranoid that someone might recognize her or see through the pretense of the simple disguise she wore. It was imperative to keep Loona's condition hidden from prying eyes; a private clinic was their only refuge.
The clinic was a discreet, high-end establishment known only to those who moved in certain circles. Inside, the soft glow of dim lighting and the hushed whispers of medical staff contrasted sharply with the chaos of the outside world. Verosika clutched Loona protectively as she approached the reception desk, her face lined with worry.
"Is Dr. Marlowe available?" Verosika asked, her voice tight with desperation. She couldn't afford to wait; every second counted for Loona.
The receptionist nodded, her eyes full of empathy as she buzzed Dr. Marlowe. Moments later, the doctor, a seasoned professional with a reputation for handling delicate cases, appeared. Her gaze softened upon seeing Loona, her eyes widening at the sight of the malnourished pup.
Dr. Marlowe, a rather caring and discrete goat demon, led Verosika into an examination room, where the air was cool and sterile. As she began her examination, Verosika stood to the side, watching with bated breath. Every wince from Dr. Marlowe was like a knife twisting in her gut.
It didn't take long for the diagnosis to come through. Dr. Marlowe's face grew grim as she looked up from her notes. "Loona is suffering from severe malnutrition and multiple injuries. She has syphilis, which is particularly concerning. Her body shows signs of extreme abuse—likely from being used in illegal hound matches, hunting games and possibly even as a pleasure pup."
Verosika's heart sank. She gripped the edge of a nearby counter, her knuckles whitening. "She's just a child," Verosika choked out. "How could anyone do this to her?"
Dr. Marlowe's expression softened. "I know it's difficult, but we have a responsibility to report this. The authorities need to be informed. This kind of abuse is unacceptable, and we have to ensure Loona gets the justice she deserves."
Verosika's eyes flared with anger and fear. "No," she said, her voice cracking. "I'm not letting anyone take her away. I've been through this myself. I know what it's like to be exploited, to be sold like property. I won't let that happen to her."
Dr. Marlowe hesitated, clearly torn. "But if we don't report this, she may not get the full care she needs. And what if her abusers come looking for her?"
"I don't care," Verosika said fiercely, holding Loona close. "I'd rather protect her from the world than let her be sent back into the system. I can't—won't—let that happen."
Dr. Marlowe sighed, her shoulders slumping in resignation. "Alright, we'll proceed with treatment. But we need to make sure she gets regular check-ups."
Meanwhile, Barbie was diving headfirst into the underbelly of Hell's criminal world, her usual swagger replaced by a grim determination. The Hells Harlequins had their networks, and Barbie used every connection she had to dig into Loona's past. She met with shady figures and brokering deals, her gaze steely and unyielding.
Barbie's latest contact, a grizzled old demon with a penchant for gambling and gambling debts, eyed her warily. "You're asking about a little hellhound? That's a rough trail to follow. Most of these pups, they don't have records. They're used, abused, and discarded."
"I don't care," Barbie snapped, her voice sharp. "I need to know where she came from, who did this to her. I'll go to the lowest pits of Hell if I have to."
The demon regarded her with a mixture of admiration and pity. "Alright, I'll see what I can dig up. But be careful. Some things are better left buried."
Back at Verosika's place, Blitz tried his best to lift Loona's spirits. His clown act, once the highlight of the Circus, now felt like a hollow effort in the face of her silence. He performed his tricks, juggled colorful balls, and told his most amusing jokes, but Loona remained unresponsive, her eyes dulled by the weight of her suffering.
Blitz watched her from across the room, his heart aching. "Come on, Loona," he said softly, his voice trembling. "Just a smile, okay? I'm here to make you laugh, to be your friend. You don't have to be afraid anymore."
The silence was deafening. Blitz's mind raced with feelings of inadequacy. He wasn't a hero or a street tough. He was a washed-up clown, and his attempts to comfort Loona felt inadequate against the vastness of her pain. The guilt gnawed at him, a constant reminder of his perceived failures.
Every night, Verosika kept a vigil by Loona's side. The pup would thrash and whimper in her sleep, haunted by the nightmares of her past. Verosika sat beside her, her hand resting gently on Loona's small, trembling body.
"I'm here, Loona," Verosika whispered soothingly. "You're safe now. No one is going to hurt you. I promise."
The nights were long and fraught with anguish. Verosika's own past haunted her as she watched over Loona, her thoughts drifting to the times she had been threatened with a similar fate. She knew too well the feeling of being trapped, exploited, and discarded. Loona's suffering mirrored her own fears and regrets, intensifying her resolve to protect the pup at all costs.
As dawn approached, Verosika continued to hold vigil, her tears mingling with the pale light of morning. She was determined to shield Loona from the darkness, to offer her a glimmer of hope amid the desolation. With each passing day, Verosika's love for the little hellhound grew, fueled by a fierce protectiveness and a desire to provide the child with the safety and care she had been denied for so long.
Together, Verosika, Blitz, and Barbie faced an uncertain future, their paths intertwined by their shared commitment to helping Loona. They were united by their love and determination, ready to confront whatever challenges lay ahead as they sought to heal the scars of the past and offer the little hellhound a chance at a better life.
Meanwhile Barbie had tracked down a demon in wrath ring a "Hound Wrangler", apparently he obtained Hellhounds for hunting games, Barbie going there alone to question this stout old cowboy, the guy owned a dude ranch where parents sent troubled kids to "learn to work the land" especially troubled hounds, this absolute P.O.S had this coming.
Barbie's rage fueled her every step as she navigated the sprawling wastelands of the Wrath Ring, where sulfurous plumes of smoke choked the air and the landscape was marred by the scars of endless conflict. She approached the ranch with a grim determination, her demeanor a far cry from the casual swagger she usually exhibited. Today, she was on a mission, driven by an unrelenting fury and a deep sense of injustice.
The ranch, an expansive compound of rusting metal and parched earth, loomed before her. It was a twisted parody of the pastoral idyll, a place where cruelty was masked by the guise of rugged individualism. The old cowboy who ran this place was known for his brutal methods, and Barbie had no illusions about the horrors that might be hidden within these walls.
She approached the entrance, her gaze steely and resolute. The Hound Wrangler, a stout and weather-beaten figure, emerged from the shadows, his eyes narrowing as he saw Barbie approaching. His face, lined with age and malevolence, twisted into a smirk.
"Well, well, look what we got here," he drawled, his voice a gravelly echo of years spent in the harshest corners of Hell. "A pretty little thing coming to visit. What can I do for you?"
Barbie put on her most seductive smile, her voice dripping with honeyed tones. "I heard you're quite the expert when it comes to handling hellhounds. I was wondering if you could help me with a little problem."
The Wrangler's eyes gleamed with suspicion, though he tried to hide it behind a mask of false politeness. "And what sort of problem might that be, darlin'?"
Barbie leaned closer, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "I'm looking for a particular pup. I heard you might have dealt with her before." She pulled out a picture of Loona, the image starkly contrasting with the sleek, glamorous appearance she tried to project.
The Wrangler's face fell momentarily, but he quickly recovered, a cruel grin spreading across his lips. "I don't know what you're talkin' about, sweetheart. We deal with a lot of troubled kid hounds around here. You'll have to be more specific."
When Barbie's charming façade didn't work, her anger ignited. Her eyes flared with a crimson glow, and she dropped the pretense. "Don't play games with me. I know you're involved. I know what you do to these poor pups. Either you tell me what I want to know or—"
In a sudden burst of fury, Barbie grabbed the Wrangler by the collar, dragging him into the barn. The dim light filtered through the gaps in the wooden walls, casting long, menacing shadows. She shoved him against the door, his face smashing into the rough surface with a sickening thud, Barbie then repeatedly kicking the fat old imp cowboy in the gut repeatedly.
"Let me make this very clear," Barbie spat, her voice low and dangerous. "I'm done playing nice. I want names, I want details, and I want them now."
The Wrangler, dazed and bleeding, tried to muster some semblance of bravado. "You think you can intimidate me, girl? You've got no idea who you're messing with."
Barbie's eyes burned with a fierce, unbridled rage. She grabbed his sleeves and rolled them up, revealing the scars and marks of his malevolent trade. She leaned in close, her breath hot and acrid against his skin. "I know exactly who I'm dealing with. And I know what you're capable of. If you don't start talking, I'll make sure you regret ever laying a hand on those innocent creatures."
She shoved the picture of Loona into his face. "Was she one of your victims? If she was, you better tell me everything. If you've got any other pups here, you'd better let them out now, or so help me—"
Barbie's voice cracked with a deadly edge, her fury unabated. She could almost feel the rage thrumming through her veins, the desire for vengeance consuming her every thought. She wasn't just fighting for Loona; she was fighting against a system that thrived on exploitation and cruelty. The Hound Wrangler's fear was immense, and his bravado quickly crumbled under Barbie's relentless assault.
The Wrangler sputtered, his pride shattered by Barbie's unrelenting anger. "Alright, alright! I'll tell you. Just—just stop. I'll tell you everything."
Barbie's grip tightened, her eyes never leaving his. "Good. Start talking, and make it quick. I'm not in the mood for games."
The Wrangler, broken and scared, began to reveal the details of his operation, spilling secrets about the illegal hound matches, the hound hunts, the abusive practices, and the names of those involved. Barbie listened intently, her heart pounding with a mixture of anger and determination. This was just the beginning. She was determined to dismantle this cruel operation piece by piece and bring justice for Loona and all the other suffering hellhounds.
As the Wrangler spoke, Barbie's thoughts raced ahead, plotting her next moves. She knew that this was far from over. The battle against the exploitation of hellhounds was a long one, and she was prepared to see it through to the end, no matter the cost.
Barbie's fury only intensified as she listened to the Wrangler's confession. Each revelation was like a stab to her heart, reinforcing her resolve to put an end to this depravity. She watched him with a steely gaze, making sure he was aware of the consequences of his actions.
The Wrangler described in grim detail the operations of his ranch—a haven for sadistic games and twisted pleasure. Hellhounds like Loona were captured or bought from troubled backgrounds, subjected to cruel training regimens, and exploited for their fearsome abilities. It was a grotesque system, one that trafficked in suffering and abuse, and Barbie could feel the anger roiling inside her.
As the Wrangler's words spilled out, Barbie took out her phone, snapping pictures of the documents he handed over—records of transactions, names of other dealers, and evidence of the cruelty inflicted on the hounds. Each piece of information was crucial, a step toward dismantling the entire operation. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to remain calm despite the rage she felt.
"I'm going to make sure this information gets to the right people," Barbie said coldly, her eyes narrowing. "You're going to be held accountable for everything you've done. And if you try to weasel your way out of this, I'll make sure you suffer just like those hounds did."
The Wrangler's defiance was gone, replaced by a cringing fear. He could see the anger in Barbie's eyes, the unwavering resolve to see justice done. She pushed him away and turned her back, her hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline and rage.
"Get out of my sight," Barbie said with a finality that brooked no argument. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll stay far away from this place." Barbie going deeper into the barn and finding a basement the wrangler told her about, it was like a Dagger in the heart a bunch of young hounds of various ages all beaten, bloody and locked in cages, grabbing an ax from above she bashed the locks off the cages letting all the kids go free, a dark look in her eyes at the sheer audacity some demons had.
Barbie left the ranch with a renewed sense of purpose. She was determined to use the information she'd gathered to not only expose the ranch but to also ensure that the perpetrators were brought to justice. The sense of betrayal and anger she felt for Loona, and for all the suffering hellhounds, fueled her every step.
Back at Verosika's place, the mood was tense and somber. Verosika and Blitz had been anxiously waiting for any news from Barbie. When she finally returned, her face was grim but resolute. Loona had been sleeping soundly, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by the comforting presence of Verosika, who had done her best to provide a semblance of safety and care.
"Did you get anything?" Blitz asked, his eyes filled with worry and hope.
Barbie nodded, handing over the documents and photos she'd taken. "Yeah, I got what we need. This place is a hellhole of abuse and exploitation. But we're going to tear it down, piece by piece. I'm going to make sure those responsible are held accountable."
Verosika's eyes filled with tears as she looked at the pictures and documents. She had suspected the extent of the cruelty, but seeing it laid out so starkly made it all too real. "Oh my God, how could anyone be so cruel?" she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
Barbie put a comforting hand on Verosika's shoulder. "I know, it's horrific. But we can't let this stop us. We need to act on this information and make sure it reaches the right people. We need to ensure that no one else has to go through what Loona did."
Blitz, still feeling the weight of the situation, tried to muster a small smile. "I'm glad you're back. And I'm glad you got what we needed. We're going to fix this, right?"
Barbie's eyes softened as she looked at her brother. "We're going to fix this, Blitz. I promise."
The days that followed were a whirlwind of activity. Barbie's gang contacts helped spread the word, ensuring that the information reached the right ears. Verosika worked tirelessly to get Loona the best medical care possible, and Blitz used his connections to rally support for their cause. The exposure of the ranch's operations led to a series of raids and arrests, bringing a sense of justice and relief to the hellhound community.
As for Loona, her recovery was slow but hopeful. With the right care and a loving environment, she began to show signs of improvement. She still had nightmares, but the warmth and affection from Verosika, Blitz, and Barbie helped her feel safe. The trauma of her past was not something that could be erased overnight, but the support of her new family gave her a glimmer of hope.
Barbie watched over Loona with a fierce protectiveness, determined to see her through this difficult time. The hellhound's presence in their lives had brought an unexpected sense of purpose and unity, reminding them all of the importance of standing up for those who couldn't stand up for themselves.
As the weeks turned into months, the bond between Barbie, Blitz, Verosika, and Loona grew stronger. Their fight against the cruelty of the underworld had forged a family-like bond between them, united by their shared experiences and their commitment to making the world a better place.
And while the scars of the past would always remain, the future was filled with a sense of hope and determination. Together, they would continue to fight for justice and ensure that no one else would have to suffer as Loona had.
to be continued...