Chapter 31: Home is Where the Heart Is
Verosika slipped quietly into the room she shared with Blitzø, the villa around them hushed in the late-night stillness. The moonlight poured through the tall windows, casting a silver glow on the simple but elegant furnishings. As she approached the bed, her eyes softened at the sight of Blitzø sprawled out on his stomach, snoring softly, his face partially buried in the pillows.
She couldn't help but smile as she watched him, the harsh lines of his usual smirk softened in sleep, making him look so much younger, almost innocent. Her heart swelled with affection as she reached out, gently brushing a lock of his messy black hair away from his eyes. Blitzø stirred slightly but didn't wake, his lips twitching into a contented little smile at her touch.
Verosika let out a soft, tired sigh as she slid under the covers, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her body against his. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent—a mix of gunpowder, cheap cologne, and something uniquely him. This was her safe place, the one person in Hell who truly understood her. As her eyes fluttered shut, a sense of peace washed over her.
But sleep, it seemed, was not going to be kind tonight.
--
The darkness of the room melted away, replaced by the gaudy neon lights of a cheap stage. Verosika was no longer a grown woman; she was a tiny girl, no more than eight years old, her small wings trembling as they tried to lift her off the ground. She was back in Nowhere Town, deep within the outskirts of Lust Ring, a place she had once called home but now only remembered with dread. The old dusty theater smelled of spilled drinks, cheap perfume, and the lingering stench of desperation as Succubabies and Scepters had come to town, the premier kid talent show and beauty pagent.
Little Verosika stood backstage, her heart pounding in her tiny chest. She wore a frilly pink dress that was too tight, sequins scratching her delicate skin. Her white hair was tied into a high ponytail bob, bouncing with every anxious step she took. Her horns were still small, barely more than nubs, and her fangs hadn't fully grown in yet. Her mother had insisted on adding a bright pink bow around her neck, calling her "Mommy's Little Moneymaker," though it felt more like a noose than an accessory.
The curtains were drawn, but she could hear the muffled roar of the audience, impatient and rowdy. Her little hands trembled as she clutched a toy microphone.
She didn't want to be here. She wanted to be anywhere but here.
"I can't do it... I can't..." she whispered to herself, tears welling up in her large, innocent eyes.
Suddenly, a harsh grip yanked her back from the safety of the wings. Her mother, Mrs.Empsa Mayday, towered over her, the years of hard living etched into her sagging, heavily made-up face. Her breath reeked of whiskey, her eyes bloodshot with a desperation that Verosika was too young to fully understand.
"Lucifer above, why did you curse me with such a selfish daughter?" Mrs. Mayday snarled, her voice dripping with venom. She was dressed in a tacky leopard-print crop top that clung to her fading figure and too tight skinny jeans, trying to recapture the allure of her youth that had long since withered away, her copper fake leg blinding Verosika as the light shined off of it.
"Mama, please... I'm scared," Verosika pleaded, her tiny wings quivering as she tried to pull away. "Mama I don't wanna go on stage... What if they laugh at me? What if they hate me?"
Her mother's grip tightened painfully on her arm, nails digging into her soft skin. "Do you want us to starve, V? Do you want to be homeless, living in the gutters like trash? Because that's where we're headed if you don't get your little ass out there and earn your keep!"
Little Verosika's lip trembled, a sob catching in her throat. "But, Mama..." she began, but the words were cut off as her mother's hand came down hard across her cheek, leaving a burning sting in its wake.
"Useless!" Mrs. Mayday screamed, her face twisted in rage. "You ungrateful little brat! You think love is free? You think you get to be lazy and still get to eat?" Her voice lowered into a menacing whisper, "You have to earn love, V. No one's going to give you anything for free, especially not me."
Verosika bit her lip, trying to hold back her tears. She had learned early on that crying only made it worse. The stage lights felt like they were burning holes into her, even from behind the curtain. The distant roar of the crowd was like the growl of a hungry beast, ready to devour her if she made even the slightest mistake.
Her father Dio, a fat sullen incubus with deep-set eyes and a long messy mullet, was sitting in the corner of the room, staring at his phone, lost in his gambling apps hoping his ponies won the next big race. He didn't even look up as his wife berated their daughter. To him, Verosika was little more than background noise, just another bet he couldn't be bothered to place.
With a rough shove, Mrs. Mayday pushed Verosika toward the stage. "Get out there and make us some money, or so help me, you'll regret it."
Verosika's small body shook with fear as the curtain began to rise. She could hear the whistles, the jeers, the impatient clapping of the crowd that had come to see a show. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to smile, just like her mother had drilled into her. The smile felt wrong, heavy, like it was stitched onto her face, but she held it there, stepping into the spotlight.
And then, the music began.
The melody was upbeat, but each note felt like a nail being driven into her coffin. Her voice wavered at first, but as she sang, she could feel the audience start to shift, their disdain turning into grudging interest.
"Hell-star, hell-star, burning bright, how I wish for your flame tonight-" Her tiny soft quivering voice echoing out, she was singing a lullaby she loved, a song that made her feel safe and warm, a song her mother never sang to her.
Song Title: "Shine, Shine, Hell-Star"
(Verse 1)
Shine, shine, Hell-Star, burning bright,
Casting dreams in endless night.
Through the flames and shadows near,
Guide us where the dark is clear.
Shine, shine, Hell-Star, glowing bold,
Lighting paths through tales untold.
(Chorus)
Oh, Hell-Star, up so high,
Blazing fire in the sky,
Grant us wishes, fierce and true,
In your glow, we'll see it through.
(Verse 2)
Flicker, shimmer, crimson light,
Keep us warm through fearsome fright.
In your blaze, the lost will find,
Hope that soothes the weary mind.
Shine, shine, Hell-Star, ancient flame,
Ever burning, still the same.
(Chorus)
Oh, Hell-Star, up so high,
Blazing fire in the sky,
Grant us wishes, fierce and true,
In your glow, we'll see it through.
(Bridge)
Even in the underworld's embrace,
Your glow is a kind and familiar face.
Through the chaos, your light remains,
A gentle guide through fiery plains.
(Chorus)
Oh, Hell-Star, up so high,
Blazing fire in the sky,
Grant us wishes, fierce and true,
In your glow, we'll see it through.
(Outro)
Shine, shine, Hell-Star, don't let go,
Your warmth is all we'll ever know.
Through the flames and shadows near,
Keep us safe, our Hell-Star dear.
And that was when it happened—the first taste of approval, the first glimmer of applause. It was like a drug, flooding her young mind with a warmth she had never known. The crowd wasn't laughing at her; they were cheering for her. For once, she wasn't invisible, wasn't useless. They loved her. They needed her. And that was the moment Verosika realized she could earn love, that she could make people adore her, even if it was just for a fleeting moment on stage.
But that love came at a cost.
--
Verosika woke with a start, gasping for air. She was back in the villa, Blitzø still sound asleep beside her, unaware of her distress. Her heart was racing, her skin damp with sweat. The echoes of her mother's harsh words still rang in her ears, and the sting of that long-ago slap throbbed on her cheek as if it had happened just moments ago.
She reached out, clutching Blitzø's hand as if it were a lifeline. He stirred, blinking sleepily as he turned to face her.
"V? You okay?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
Verosika forced a smile, her fingers brushing through his hair. "Yeah, babe... just a bad dream, that's all," she whispered, though her heart still ached with the memories. She cuddled closer to him, seeking comfort in his warmth, his presence, the only real love she had ever known.
But deep down, she knew the scars of her past would always be there, lurking in the shadows, whispering that she would never be enough. Not for her mother, not for anyone.
Except, maybe... for Blitzø.
She buried her face in his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart lull her back into a restless sleep, the ghosts of her past still lingering, but for now, kept at bay by the love she had finally found.
The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft golden glow over the room. Blitzø was still asleep, his arm draped protectively over Verosika, his soft snores filling the silence. For a moment, Verosika allowed herself to relax, basking in the warmth of their shared bed. But the remnants of her nightmare clung to her like a second skin, the echoes of her mother's voice still whispering cruel words in the back of her mind.
Carefully, she disentangled herself from Blitzø's embrace, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead before slipping out of bed. She needed air, needed to clear her head of the memories that had resurfaced so violently. Wrapping herself in one of Blitzø's oversized hoodies, she padded barefoot down the long, ornate hallway of the villa.
The place was eerily quiet, the rest of the gang likely still sleeping off last night's festivities. As she passed by the grand dining room, she caught sight of Striker leaning against the doorframe, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He gave her a lazy grin, tipping his cowboy hat in greeting.
"Mornin', darlin'. You're up early," Striker drawled, his voice smooth like honey but with an edge that made Verosika wary.
She forced a smile, not quite in the mood for small talk but not wanting to be rude either. "Yeah, couldn't sleep," she replied, hoping he'd take the hint and let her go.
But Striker seemed to have other plans. He pushed himself off the wall, his yellow eyes glinting with curiosity. "Nightmares, huh? I've seen that look before," he said, blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Ain't nothing worse than the ghosts that keep ya up at night."
Verosika stiffened at his words, surprised by the unexpected understanding in his tone. She hadn't pegged Striker as the introspective type, but there was a knowing look in his eyes that suggested he'd wrestled with his own demons.
"Yeah, something like that," she muttered, wrapping her arms around herself as if to ward off the chill that seemed to settle in her bones. She had no intention of baring her soul to this strange imp, no matter how charming his drawl might be.
Striker tilted his head, studying her for a moment before giving a nonchalant shrug. "Well, if ya ever wanna talk, darlin', I'm a good listener," he said, flashing her a grin that was equal parts playful and predatory. "Or, if talkin's not your thing, I got a few other ways to take your mind off things."a devious smile adorning his face, followed by a wink.
Verosika rolled her eyes, her lips twitching into a reluctant smirk despite herself. "Thanks, but I think I'll pass," she said, turning on her heel and heading towards the garden.
The air outside was crisp, the morning dew still clinging to the lush greenery that surrounded the villa. She wandered aimlessly through the maze of hedges and flower beds, her mind replaying scenes from her childhood like a broken record.
She remembered how her father had barely acknowledged her existence, lost in his gambling and addiction, only looking up to yell at her when she interrupted his games. He had been a shadow in her life, a ghost of a parent who never cared enough to even pretend.
And then there was her mother, the real monster in her story. The woman who had groomed her, pushed her, broke her spirit over and over again just to turn a profit. Verosika could still hear her mother's voice, sharp and cutting, reminding her that she was only worth as much as she could earn. Love, in her mother's eyes, was a transaction. It had taken years for Verosika to unlearn that lesson, and some days, she wasn't sure she ever truly had.
As she rounded a corner, she found herself at the edge of a small pond, its surface smooth and reflective like a mirror. She stared down at her own reflection, at the woman she had become. The confident, sultry pop star that everyone adored, the persona she had crafted so carefully to hide the broken girl underneath.
She hated how much she still craved the approval of others, how she needed the adoration of her fans to feel even a sliver of self-worth. It was a curse, a legacy passed down from her mother, and no matter how much fame or fortune she amassed, it was never enough.
With a frustrated sigh, she crouched down, picking up a small stone and skipping it across the water. The ripples it created sent her reflection into chaos, distorting the image of herself into something monstrous.
"Penny for your thoughts?" a familiar voice broke through her reverie, and she turned to see Barbie Wire approaching, her hands shoved into the pockets of her leather jacket.
Verosika straightened, forcing a smirk onto her lips. "You'll have to pay more than a penny for these thoughts, sweetheart," she teased, but there was no real heat behind her words.
Barbie gave her a knowing look, her eyes sharp and perceptive. "You've been out here for a while," she said, coming to stand beside her. "Let me guess—thinking about your shitty childhood again?"
Verosika flinched at how easily Barbie cut to the heart of the matter, but she supposed it wasn't surprising. Barbie was as tough as nails, but she wasn't heartless. The two of them had a lot more in common than either of them cared to admit.
"Yeah," Verosika admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I keep trying to move on, but it's like… no matter how far I get, I'm always dragged back there."
Barbie nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah, I get that," she said. "Hell's full of shitty people who want to keep you down. But you've got Blitzø, and you've got us. You're not alone anymore."
The sincerity in Barbie's words caught Verosika off guard. She turned to look at her, searching for any sign of mockery, but all she found was genuine concern. For a moment, the weight on her chest lifted, just a little.
"Thanks, Barb," Verosika said, her voice thick with emotion. "I... I really needed to hear that."
Barbie shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Don't mention it. Besides, you're family now, whether you like it or not."
Verosika couldn't help but laugh at that, the sound light and free in the crisp morning air. Maybe Barbie was right. Maybe she didn't have to be alone anymore. Maybe, for the first time in her life, she had found a place where she truly belonged.
As they made their way back to the villa, Verosika felt a small spark of hope. She knew the nightmares wouldn't go away overnight, but maybe, just maybe, she could learn to live with them. With Blitzø by her side, and her newfound family around her, perhaps the ghosts of her past would finally lose their power.
For now, she would take it one day at a time, learning to believe that she was worth more than what others could take from her. She was Verosika Mayday, and she was finally finding her way home.
As Verosika stepped through the gates of the villa, the weight of her past began to lift, piece by piece. The early morning sun bathed the courtyard in a soft glow, casting long shadows that danced like old memories fading away. Her heart was still heavy, but it beat with a new sense of resolve. She had faced her demons before, and she would do it again, for the sake of the family she had found in this unlikely place.
The sound of rapid footsteps brought her back to the present, and she looked up just in time to see Loona racing toward her. The young hellhound, with her wild hair and piercings, looked every bit the rebellious punk, but her eyes were wide and full of adoration as she leapt into Verosika's arms.
"Mom! You're back!" Loona's voice was filled with a joy that was rare to hear. "Next time, take me on walkies too, okay?"
Verosika couldn't help but laugh, a genuine sound that felt like a balm to her soul. She hugged Loona tightly, burying her face in her daughter's spiky hair. It was moments like these that reminded her of what really mattered. It wasn't the fame, the adoring fans, or even the money. It was this—a family that loved her, imperfections and all.
"You got it, kiddo," Verosika promised, pulling back just enough to ruffle Loona's hair. "Next time, you're coming with me, and we'll have a mother-daughter adventure. How does that sound?"
Loona's grin was wide, fangs gleaming as she nodded enthusiastically. "Hell yeah! Maybe we can go scare some humans or something," she suggested with a wicked gleam in her eyes.
"Sounds like a plan," Verosika agreed, her own eyes sparkling with mischief.
Barbie Wire, who had been lingering by the door, watching the reunion with a smug smile, finally made her presence known with a dramatic sigh. "Well, well, well, look at you—our little superstar playing house," she teased, though there was a warmth in her voice that softened the barb.
Verosika shot Barbie a playful glare. "Jealous much? You're just mad Loona likes me better," she shot back, sticking out her tongue.
Barbie rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her grin. "Yeah, yeah. I'll let you have that one, Mayday," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "But don't get too comfortable. You still owe me for all those times I covered your ass on stage."
Verosika chuckled, pulling Loona closer as they headed inside. "I'll buy you a drink later, sis," she promised, and Barbie gave a mock salute in return.
The villa was slowly coming to life as the rest of their makeshift family began to stir. As they walked through the grand hallways, Verosika felt a wave of contentment wash over her. This was her home now. Not the cold, sterile mansions of her youth or the lonely penthouses she'd once used to escape her past. This place, filled with laughter, chaos, and love, was where she belonged.
Stella was already in the kitchen, looking as regal as ever despite the early hour. The fallen princess gave Verosika a sly smile as she sipped her morning tea. "You're up early, darling," Stella remarked. "Rough night?"
Verosika shrugged, feeling a sense of ease in the casual banter. "Just needed some air. But I'm good now," she said, giving Stella a grateful smile.
Stella's eyes softened for a moment, a rare glimpse of the woman behind the icy exterior. "Well, I'm glad to hear it," she said, her voice almost gentle. "We need you at your best, after all. The world can't handle Verosika Mayday at anything less than full power."
Verosika grinned, feeling a spark of her old confidence returning. "Don't you worry, princess. I'm always ready to bring the house down," she said with a wink.
Blitzø appeared then, still groggy from sleep, his hair sticking up in all directions. He blinked at the sight of Verosika and Loona, his face breaking into a sleepy smile. "Hey, hot stuff," he greeted, his voice raspy. "Did I miss the morning drama?"
"Only a little," Verosika teased, leaning down to give him a quick kiss. "But don't worry, you can make it up to me later."
Blitzø chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. "Deal," he murmured, his eyes full of affection.
For a moment, Verosika let herself sink into the warmth of his embrace. This was what she had always wanted—a family, a place where she was loved for who she was, not what she could give.
As they all gathered around the kitchen island, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filling the air, Verosika couldn't help but smile. She wasn't that frightened little girl anymore, wasn't the awkward teen who had run away from everything she knew. She had found something better, something real.
She was a sister, a lover, a friend, a mother. She was Verosika "freakin'" Mayday, and she was finally home.
For the first time in a long time, she felt at peace.
But as they all sat down to breakfast, laughter echoing through the villa, a small part of Verosika couldn't shake the feeling that this peace was temporary. The past had a way of creeping up on you when you least expected it.
And in Hell, nothing good lasted forever.
--
But for now, she would hold onto this moment. She would laugh, love, and live her life on her own terms. Because no matter what nightmares the future held, she had a family who would face them with her.
And that was more than enough.
To be continued…..