During the Harvest Moon Festival...
Eli reared his arm back once more, ready to deliver yet another devastating strike to the assassin. Just as he was about to hurl his punch, he realized that he was in front of an audience. Eli turned his head to the right and saw Stolas staring in amusement, while Stella, along with Octavia, looked completely flabbergasted.
"...I can explain." Eli stated, straightening his posture while dusting off his hoodie. He applied a significant amount of pressure on Striker's neck using his talon-like feet to ensure that he wouldn't escape. The original plan was to take down the assassin with blessed weapons—without getting caught.
"Well? Go on, explain yourself, Rose." Stella commanded, her voice sharp with impatience. Shaking off her shock, she rose from her chair and strode toward the royal demon owl. Her gaze flickered to the blessed knife lodged in Eli's shoulder. A twinge of concern gripped her, but he remained eerily still, unflinching. If the weapon pained him, he didn't show it—just like her husband, he must have had a high pain tolerance.
"Well, you see—" Eli started but stopped upon realizing that he felt nothing under his talon-like feet. Looking down, he noticed that the space where Striker was supposed to be was empty. He was baffled, as were Stella and Stolas.
They looked around to find the assassin. Eli heard a sound and turned his attention to it. What he saw was Striker on his steed, hat down and a smug smile on his face.
"Let this be the day you almost caught—" Striker began to monologue, but Eli was not in the mood to listen to people talk and potentially let them escape.
Eli grabbed the handle of the blessed knife and, with eerie precision, threw it at Striker. The blade struck his shoulder, causing him to fall off his steed.
Eli shrugged. "They did say an eye for an eye." He said, moving his wounded shoulder in an attempt to soothe it.
"You're bleeding!" Octavia said, finally snapping out of her shock. She stood up to check on his shoulder.
Eli silently sent the grimoire back to Stolas as he leaned back and scratched the back of his head. Stolas caught the grimoire with a chuckle as he watched his daughter fuss over the boy's stab wound. He then walked toward the downed assassin with a smile.
Striker glared at Stolas, pure hatred burning in his eyes. "If you think I'm just gonna tell—"
He never got the chance to finish. With a single, piercing glare from Stolas, his body stiffened, his expression frozen in defiance as he turned to solid stone.
The audience instinctively stepped back—for health and safety reasons, of course—as Stolas calmly plucked a book from Striker's petrified form and strode back to the stage, utterly unbothered.
Meanwhile, Stella observed her daughter with mild amusement. "Octavia, sweetie, I know you're worried about Rose, but he's not even reacting to his own wound." She said, placing a reassuring hand on Octavia's shoulder and sighing, entertained by the display. She never expected her daughter to care this much about Eli—especially when the boy himself seemed indifferent to his own injury.
"That makes it worse!" Octavia argued, eyes wide with worry. "What if he has other injuries he doesn't even realize? And he's bleeding way too much! Eli, are you okay!?" Her voice rose in panic as she grabbed him by the sides, shaking him slightly.
Eli let out a startled squawk as she accidentally pressed against his stab wound. With a sharp inhale, he grasped her shoulders, firmly holding her still. "V, I'm fine." He deadpanned, his monotone voice doing little to reassure her.
Octavia's eyes welled up with tears.
Eli sighed, relenting, and pulled her into a hug, subtly shifting his body so she wouldn't press against his injury. She buried her face in his shoulder, muffling a quiet sob.
With one arm, he gently stroked her head, his other hand resting idly at his side. Over her shoulder, he caught sight of Stella, who was watching with a knowing smirk, barely concealing her amusement behind a raised hand. Her other rested on her hip, her body language dripping with smug satisfaction.
Eli met her gaze with an unimpressed deadpan.
She snickered.
"Déjà vu?" Eli mused, his thoughts drifting. He was sure something like this had happened not too long ago.
Stolas chuckled, drawing their attention. "Well then, I'm sure Eli here can explain himself in a more private setting." He said, casting a knowing glance at his disciple.
Eli gave a subtle nod to his mentor before discreetly using his free hand to send a message to the I.M.P, informing them that he would be at the Goetia mansion.
Present...
And the rest was history, the mission was a success, but it certainly wasn't a flawless one. Now Eli finds himself exploring Pentagram City in his wrathian imp form, and he found out that most hellborns avoid messing with him in this form, which was good since he liked being left alone.
Turning a corner, he accidentally bumped into someone, causing him to stagger slightly while the person fell to their rear, letting out a noticeable "Oof" as the papers the person was holding fell.
"Sorry about that." Eli apologized, bending down to help pick up some papers. He raised one of his brows as he read the paper: 'For those who wish to redeem themselves, they are welcome to stay at the Happy Hotel.'
Eli shrugged and collected the papers before offering a hand. The doll-like woman looked at him in surprise and took the offered hand. Eli was confused by her surprised expression and then realized that he was in hell, and kindness was rarely shown around here.
"Oh, it's okay. It was an accident." The doll-like woman said, still surprised that someone would apologize and offer her a hand instead of blowing her off like others before.
"I swear I've seen her somewhere before..." Eli thought, still maintaining his impassive expression. He handed her back the papers, which she took with a grateful smile. "Again, I'm sorry." He said, bowing slightly, once again surprising the doll-like woman before trying to walk away.
The doll-like woman grabbed his shoulder. "Wait!" She said. It wasn't every day she found a hellborn who was this respectful, especially a wrathian imp. From what she heard, wrathians were not really the type to be respectful, at least to not to outsiders.
Eli turned his head with a curious tilt, stopping to listen to what the doll-like woman wanted to say.
"Look, I run a special hotel for sinners. While you may not be a sinner—" The doll-like woman said, letting go of Eli's shoulder to retrieve something from her pocket.
"I'm not even a Hellborn." Eli mused, internally chuckling to himself.
The doll-like woman handed him a business card with her name on it: "Charlie Magne." Eli had a nagging feeling that this name was important. Truth be told, he actually got the feeling because his great-grandmother had begun giggling uncontrollably.
"But the hotel is still in need of a fixer-upper, and we need staff. It's not easy finding help, so please think about it." She said, giving Eli a hopeful smile as she hugged the papers close.
Eli examined the card, noting the contact numbers. "And you want me to work as...?" He questioned, glancing at her and the card.
"As the security guard. Remember, the hotel isn't much right now, so it's not really 'protected' as much. I mean, I have bodyguards, but they're more of a last resort." She explained with a laugh. Having more helping hands around the hotel would really help her a lot.
"I see... well, Ms. Magne, I ca—" Eli was about to decline the offer but was interrupted by the honk of a limousine.
Charlie perked up and shook Eli's hand. "Anyway, please think about it and call if you accept!" She said in a chipper tone before running toward the limousine with an excited laugh.
In the limousine...
Charlie shut the door behind her and settled into the plush seat beside a doll-like woman, whose sharp gaze remained locked onto the retreating figure of the imp. Suspicion flickered in her narrowed eyes as she watched him discreetly pocket the card before disappearing into the crowded streets of Hell.
"Who was that, Charlie?" The woman asked, her voice edged with wariness, though she still kept her focus on the imp's fading silhouette.
Charlie exhaled, shifting her attention to her companion. A soft smile graced her lips, one touched with both excitement and resolve. "A potential new staff member." She murmured, her fingers gently finding their way to the other's hand. "Isn't that just... great, Vaggie?"
Vaggie sighed, her expression reluctant, but as she turned to Charlie, the tension in her shoulders softened. With a quiet squeeze of her hand, she returned the smile, though the concern in her eyes lingered.
As the limousine rumbled to life and carried them back toward the hotel, the neon-lit chaos of the underworld blurred past, leaving behind more questions than answers.
Back with Eli...
"Seems like I landed myself a part-time job... no thanks to a certain someone." He said, brow twitching as a throbbing vein appeared on his temple, while his great-grandmother kept laughing. After Charlie left, Mary decided to drop the bomb by telling him that she was the Princess of Hell.
If he had known that earlier, he wouldn't have been so nonchalant.
"Oh, ahahaha! Oh, come now, sweetie. You were offered a job by the daughter of the head of Hell—you should be excited!" Mary said through her giggles, holding her stomach as she floated next to her great-grandson.
"Woohoo, I got a job that may send me to the dungeon if I refuse. And it's not like I already have a job to worry about, right?" Eli said, sarcasm dripping from his tone.
"Now, don't use that tone on me, young man." Mary playfully scolded, putting a fist on her hip as she raised a finger to wag it at him.
Eli sighed and kept walking around aimlessly, not knowing where to go since this was his first time venturing out of Imp City.
Eli wandered into a random café, his throat dry with thirst. The moment he stepped inside, he was met with the warm glow of neon lights reflecting off polished chrome fixtures. The place had a distinct retro vibe—checkered floors, red leather booths, and an old jukebox humming a soft tune from the corner. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries lingered in the air, wrapping around him like a familiar embrace.
Surprisingly, he found himself liking the atmosphere. It was cozy yet lively, a contrast to the usual places he found himself in. With a calm, unhurried stride, he made his way to the counter, his boots clicking lightly against the tiles. Choosing a seat near the bar, he lowered himself onto the stool, resting his arms on the cool surface as he quietly took in his surroundings.
A muscular hellhound who was cleaning a glass mug gave Eli a friendly smile. "Hey there, buddy. Want anything?" He asked, putting away the mug on the shelf behind him.
Eli looked up, and an unamused smile made its way to his face. "I'll have the Fiery Hellcino... it's just cappuccino with a hell pun as the name, isn't it?" He deadpanned. Well, it could be worse, he supposed.
The hellhound let out a hearty laugh. "Yep, my sister was pretty proud of it." He said, grabbing a cup as he began brewing. "Though it's more of a Hell cappuccino." He joked, placing a steaming cup in front of Eli.
"Hardy har har. Thanks anyway." Eli said. He rested his hand on the warm cup with a small exhale. The familiar yet unfamiliar scent of cinnamon curled into his senses.
The muscular hellhound gave him a large smile with a thumbs-up before turning around to search for any dusty mugs.
Eli lifted the cup up to his mouth and sipped his drink. The cappuccino was rich and velvety, the bold espresso cutting through the creamy milk with just the right amount of bitterness. A hint of cocoa lingered on his tongue, blending with the subtle sweetness of the foam. The warmth settled in his chest, but his expression remained unreadable as he set the cup back down with a soft clink.
His gaze swept across the café, where sinners and hellborns mingled—a rare sight in Hell. Yet, this fleeting harmony wasn't entirely unfamiliar; he'd witnessed something similar during dinners with Millie and Moxxie.
Someone took a seat beside Eli, drawing his attention. He glanced over and blinked in surprise.
"Ms. Mayberry?" He said, his usually stoic expression faltering for just a second.
She turned to him, brow furrowing in confusion. "Do I know you?" Her tone was cautious, unfamiliar of his Wrathian form.
Eli pointed at himself. "It's me—the kid from I.M.P."
Mayberry's eyes widened in shock. "Wait… you weren't a sinner?" That didn't make sense. The last time she'd seen him, he hadn't been an imp.
"Nope." Eli replied flatly. "I just don't like people staring at me."
The lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly, and his emotionless tone sold it. She believed him without question.
"I-I see..." Mayberry muttered, shifting uncomfortably as she sat beside the kid she had assumed was just another sinner like her. "So, uh... what are you doing outside of Imp City?" She asked, her voice laced with awkwardness. There wasn't much else to say—sitting next to an assassin she formerly hired was already awkward enough.
Eli took a slow sip of his drink before setting it down, absentmindedly stirring it. "Got a day off. Ma wanted some alone time with Pops."
Mayberry studied him for a moment. There was something about this kid—something off. He carried himself like someone twice his age, like an old soul who had long since stopped giving a damn about life's bullshit.
A deep voice interrupted her thoughts. "You wanna get something, ma'am?"
She glanced up to see a muscular hellhound leaning against the bar, waiting expectantly.
"Oh, yeah. I'll have the usual." She said, snapping back to reality. Digging into her purse, she pulled out a few souls and handed them over.
The hellhound took them without a word and made his way to the register.
"You come here often?" Eli asked, his tone carrying a casual curiosity.
Mayberry let out a tired sigh, slumping against the bar. "Yeah. Not many honest businesses around here. This place is one of the few exceptions." Her head came to rest on the cool countertop, her exhaustion bleeding through in her posture.
The hellhound returned a moment later, handing her the change. She accepted it with a weary hand, tucking it back into her purse. He raised a brow, shifting his gaze toward Eli, who merely shrugged. The hellhound mirrored the gesture before turning away to make Mayberry's drink.
After a few minutes of silence, the hellhound placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of Mayberry with a smile.
"Here you go, ma'am—the 'Brimstone Blend.'" He said with a small smirk, crossing his arms as he puffed out his chest proudly.
The hellhound snickered when he caught Eli deadpanning in his direction. Mayberry hummed in acknowledgment as she straightened herself and grabbed the cup before raising it to take a sip.
By this point, Eli had finished his drink. He handed the muscular hellhound the correct amount of soul, which the hellhound accepted with a nod.
Eli got out of his seat. "Well, it was nice talking to you, Ms. Mayberry. Goodbye for now." He said before walking off aimlessly through the city.
"Be careful out there, kid..." Mayberry said, turning to wave at Eli with a smile.
"Come back soon, little man." The muscular hellhound added, his arms still crossed, smiling widely at the Wrathian imp. He had assumed the young imp would cause trouble, but now he felt guilty for jumping to conclusions.
Now back outside, Eli wandered the streets for a few more hours, passing by multiple… interesting shops. Yeah, let's go with that.
Eventually, a dull pang of hunger settled in, and before he knew it, he found himself stepping into a small diner.
It wasn't much to look at—faded walls, flickering neon sign, and the faint hum of an old ceiling fan—but it seemed decent enough. More importantly, it smelled good. Eli made his way to the counter, where a bored-looking anthropomorphic cat leaned lazily against it, her tail flicking absentmindedly.
She glanced up at him with a yawn. "Welcome to The Daily Grind. What can I get you, sir?" She asked, already pulling out her phone to scroll through her social media.
Eli studied the menu for a moment. "Number one." He said. The options were all pretty standard, which was good—it meant he now had a reliable place to eat if he ever needed one.
"Number one!" The cat called out, her eyes never leaving her phone.
"Got it~!" A chipper voice sang from the kitchen.
"That'll be ten souls, sir." The cat demon said, lazily holding out her hand.
Eli pulled out his wallet, retrieved the souls, and placed them in her palm. With practiced precision, she flicked open the cash register and tucked them away, all without breaking her scrolling rhythm.
Sliding his wallet back into his pocket, Eli turned and picked a seat by the window. The diner was quite empty, save for a few distant murmurs and the occasional clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Plenty of open spots.
After a few minutes of waiting, a petite imp girl approached his table and carefully set down a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. Without a word, she placed a cup beside it and filled it with juice. Eli wasn't sure what kind it was, but he didn't question it.
He nodded in thanks, earning a soft giggle from the imp before she slipped him a small piece of paper and dashed away. He blinked, momentarily puzzled, before realizing—he had just received yet another phone number. That made four now, and he still had no idea what to do with them.
'At least I know where to go if I'm ever in Pentagram City.' Eli thought, yawning as he walked away from the diner.
The café and the diner were the two most normal places he had found in this chaotic city.
He checked the time on his phone and noticed it was time to head back to Imp City. This had probably been the most peaceful moment he'd had in Hell—something that wouldn't last long. Besides, he still needed to discuss the whole princess problem with his parents.
A/N: I know I said I would update every week, but work was kicking my behind. Anyways thank you for all of your patience. Also remember when I said I won't be including Hazbin? Heck it, after reviewing my plans I realize that things were a lot more complicated than I thought, basically you guys can kick me for being an idiot.
For Charlie I just went for Magne because I want to...
This is chapter is shorter because of writer's block, I also thought that it would be more interesting if Eli explored Pentagram City. If there's any misinformation or you just don't like it let me know, and I'll try to to fix it or just don't do this type of chapters in the future. God, I'm tired...