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[ddesguv]

To say that you were royalty fucked, was an understatement.

You've made stupid decisions before, sure, who hasn't? But the one made today, was a whole new thing.

You made a bet with Angel Dust, all you had to do was to touch Alastor's little deer tail. And you did just that. Now you're hiding in a cleaning closet somewhere around the second storey of the hotel. The moment your hand touched his tail, you bolted, running as fast as you could, not wanting to deal with the consequences.

It's been around half an hour since then. Staying still for a few more hours might be a good decision. Being cramped inside the closet, is quite weird, the darkness, the lack of movement, the feeling of warm breath against your neck. Oh shit. He's behind you.

You can feel the warm air against your neck, and you're sure you just heard his cane tapping on the floor. You're so fucked. You've never been this scared in your life. You're not strong enough to fight him, even if you wanted to.

" Foolish girl, did you really think that you could hide from me?"

His voice... It was smooth and seductive, and it sent shivers down your spine. You didn't answer, of course. What was the point? You couldn't deny that you were scared out of your wits, and you knew that he knew it.

" Touching me so recklessly, I'm quite sensitive around those parts, my dear, I could kill you that. You're luckily I fancy you."

His hands grab you by the hips and spin you around, his face close enough that you can feel his hot breath on your lips. His eyes are wide and dark, pupils dilated, and he's practically glowing with excitement. He licks his lips slowly, taking in your appearance, and you feel your own heartbeat quicken in response. You're trapped in his gaze, unable to look away.

"You're so lovely, darling," he whispers, his fingers tracing up your sides, teasing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "I think you and I are going to have such a wonderful time together. Tell me sweet girl, would you like that?"

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel your body respond to his touch. You nod, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone a word. He chuckles softly, deep in his throat, and his grip on you tightens. "That's a good girl," he says, his voice low and husky. With a snap of his fingers, you find yourself in his room.

A dim light filters through the curtains, casting the room in a warm, intimate glow. The bed is made with crisp, white sheets, and the air smells faintly of his cologne. He pushes you towards the bed, and you stumble, landing on it. He stands over you, his cane held loosely in one hand.

" Dear, don't you think it's about time you apologize for your insolent behavior?"

His voice is like velvet against your skin, like a soft caress that sends shivers down your body. You look up at him, eyes wide and filled with desire. You want nothing more than to please him, to make him forget about the foolishness you've put him through.

Without waiting another moment, you kneel before him, and with shaky hands unbutton his pants, looking him straight in the eye while pulling down his zipper.

His cock springs free, thick and veiny, and your mouth waters at the sight of it. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the base, feeling its heat through your gloves, and slowly lower your head. You take the tip into your mouth, tasting the salt on his skin, and close your eyes, savoring the feeling of him filling your mouth. You bob your head, sucking gently as you work your way further down, feeling his length stretch your lips. He lets out a groan, his hips jerking forward, and you know you're doing something right.

With a practiced hand, you begin to stroke him, using your tongue to tease the vein that runs along the underside. He gasps, thrusting harder into your mouth, and you can feel the head of his cock brush against the back of your throat. You take a deep breath, relaxing your throat muscles, and take him deeper, feeling him fill every inch of your mouth. Your other hand finds its way to his balls, squeezing gently, and he lets out a moan that vibrates through your body.

His hips begin to move faster, and you can feel the strength in his thighs as he presses against your head. You match his pace, sucking harder and using your tongue to drive him wild. He tastes so good, so familiar, and you can feel the heat building inside you as you draw him closer and closer to release. His grip on your hair tightens, and he growls deep in his chest, "That's it, darling. Take it all."

With a final thrust, he comes, his hot seed filling your mouth in powerful spurts. You swallow it eagerly, enjoying the taste of him as it slides down your throat. He gasps, his body shuddering above you, and then slowly, he pulls away. His eyes are glassy and his breathing labored, but there's a satisfied smile on his lips.

[ddesguv]

It was a honest mistake, really, who knew you could be so clumsy, he was just trying to be a gentleman, holding his handkerchief at your nose to help with the bleeding after you smacked yourself in the face with the cupboard door, you simply opened it too fast.

You have long since left the kitchen with his handkerchief, while he remained, staring at the small speck of blood on his finger.

It was as if he was hypnotized by it. He couldn't take his eyes off of it, couldn't stop thinking about the taste of it on his tongue. He found himself wondering what else of you might taste like that, what other things might make him feel so...alive.

He didn't realize he had started to pace until his cane thumped against the floor, echoing through the room. His mind raced, his heart pounding in his chest. It was as if something inside of him had awoken, had been stirred to life by that single drop of blood.

He found himself wondering if he could convince you to let him taste more, to let him see what else of you might be as intoxicating as that tiny speck of life. The thought made his blood run hot, his body hum with desire.

His hands began to tremble as he clutched the cane, his breath coming in short gasps as he imagined what it would be like to taste you again, to feel your warmth against his skin. He could feel his heart racing, his pulse thrumming in his ears as he pictured your lips, your neck, your wrists.

This was unlike himself, to loose his composure over such small things. He could laugh at himself if it weren't for the depraved thoughts running around his mind.

He couldn't spend another moment in this kitchen, he wouldn't dare let someone else see him like this. With a snap of his fingers, he found himself into his dimly lit room.

The shadows seemed to wrap around him like a comforting cloak, and he allowed himself a moment to steady his breath. He couldn't deny the fact that he was...aroused. It had been so long since anything had affected him like this. He hadn't expected to react this way to a simple drop of blood.

He wasn't a blind man, stupid either, he noticed how you seemed to have some sort of fondness for him, actually engaging in mundane pleasant conversation with him, laughing at his jokes and offering your own, not being bothered by his touch or him invading your personal space, unlike the others. He'd notice how your eyes followed him around the room, how you smiled whenever he was in your presence. He just didn't know how to use that for his advantage.

He found himself pacing again, his cane thumping against the floor in a familiar rhythm. Maybe he should just ask you outright, see if you'd be interested in exploring something more with him. No, that seemed...too forward, too desperate. He needed to be more subtle, more manipulative. He needed to find a way to make you want to give yourself to him, willingly.

He stopped by his favorite chair, the one with the comfortable cushion and the armrest that fitted just right. He sank into it, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, trying to clear his thoughts. But the more he tried to push the thoughts of you away, the more they seemed to crowd his mind, filling his senses until he could hardly breathe.

He needed to do something, anything, to take his mind off of you. He reached for a book on his nightstand, flipping through the pages absently, trying to focus on the words, but they might as well have been written in a foreign language. His mind kept drifting back to the taste of your blood, the feel of your skin beneath his lips. With a frustrated groan, he tossed the book across the room, watching it land with a satisfying thud against the wall. He felt like he was going absolutely mad.

He rose from his chair, pacing again, his cane clicking against the floor in a familiar rhythm. He needed to get out of this room, to clear his head, to find a way to get you alone, to see if what he thought was true. Maybe he could invite you for a walk in the garden, or perhaps a quiet meal in his study. Anything to be near you, to feel your presence again.

You bewitched him, there was no other possible explanation. You and that sweet ambrosia running trough your veins, that sinful body, that angelic voice!

As weeks passed by, he became more agitated, it was obvious to anyone who had eyes that he wasn't acting quite like himself.

Wherever you were, he was there. You were taking a stroll trough the city? He was right there, claiming to have some errands to run.

In the library? He was looking for a book to entertain himself.

In the kitchen? He was supervising you to make sure you didn't burn the hotel down.

You could say he was...obsessed.

He found himself unable to focus on anything else but you. His thoughts were consumed by the image of your face, your smile, your laugh. He would find himself lost in daydreams about what it would be like to kiss those lips, to feel your skin pressed against his own. It was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

But now, only anger ran trough his body, positively boiling with rage as he watched you from the shadows.

You were sitting at the bar, a drink in your hand, chatting, no, flirting! With that depraved spider whore of all things!

You were such a foolish little creature.

He couldn't help but observe your conversation with that pest.

" Ya' know toots, that dress looks good on you, would look even better on the floor in my room." He watched as you laughed at the demons suggestive comment.

He felt his fists clench at his side, his jaw tighten as he fought the urge to lunge across the room and strangle the demon with his bare hands. But he couldn't. Not yet. He had to play his cards right. He had to wait for the perfect moment.

" Animal abuse ain't cool, but I got insurance, so how about you destroy this pussy?" It infuriated him even more when you responded back with the same suggestive mannerisms.

" Fucking hell toots, that was horrible" The pest laughed, and you joined in.

" I know, I know!"

" For real now, how's it going with mister tall dark and handsome? Any luck?"

" Alastor?" His breath stopped for a second at hearing your sweet voice saying his name.

" No shit Sherlock!"

" I wish, trust me if he'd be interested I'd jump on it." Now, this, really got his attention.

" You are one blind bitch if I eva' seen one, toots."

"Go fuck yourself Angel"

" Fuck me ya' self you coward!"

" Nah thanks, I want my guts rearranged by Alastor."

His eyes narrowed, his fingers curled into fists at his side as he listened to your words. You. Were. Tempting. Him. With. A. Line. You had no idea how close you were to crossing.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, his boiling blood. He needed to be patient. Bide his time. Wait for the right moment to strike.

" You've got it baaad toots."

" Honestly, if he asked me to get down on my knees and bark, I would."

Patience is a virtue, and he is no saint.

With a snap of his fingers he was right beside you, hand on your shoulder. And just as soon, he took you to his room, shadows wrapping away from the two of you.

There you lay, beneath him, your wrists above your head, pinned down by one of his hand.

" Foolish little doe, do you find it amusing tormenting me? Are you really that stupid? Do you truly have no idea of what you do to me?!"

His words were like a slap to your face, a harsh reality check. You feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment and shame as you look up at him, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and confusion. His face is contorted with anger, his jaw tight, his eyes blazing with fire. You've never seen him like this before, and it's both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

You want to apologize, to explain that you didn't mean anything by it, that you were just playing along, but the words stick in your throat. Instead, you remain silent, your gaze fixed on his. His hand moves from your shoulder to your cheek, gently cupping it as he tilts your head up further. "Do you know what you do to me, when you say those things?" he asks, his voice low and intense. "You make me want to claim you, to own you, to make you mine."

His other hand moves down between your legs, his fingers pressing against your wetness. You gasp, arching your back involuntarily, as pleasure courses through you. He growls in response, his touch growing firmer, more demanding. "Do you want this?" he asks, his voice rough with desire. "Do you want me to claim you, to take what's mine?"

The question echoes through your mind, the desire in his voice making your heart race. You nod slowly, not trusting your voice to speak. He smiles, a predatory grin that makes your blood boil. " Use your words little doe, I won't do anything else until I hear you say it."

You close your eyes, taking a shaky breath before opening them again. "I want you to claim me, to make me yours," you whisper, feeling the words escape your lips like a sigh. His fingers press deeper, finding a rhythm that matches the ache between your legs. He growls in approval, the sound vibrating against your skin. "I need you to make me yours," you add, arching your back further as his touch sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.

His other hand leaves your cheek, trailing down your body, coming to rest on your hip. His thumb brushes against your skin, tracing circles, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of you. "Say it again," he demands, his voice thick with desire. "Tell me you're mine."

You moan, the sound escaping you as his fingers find a particularly sensitive spot deep inside you. "I'm yours, Alastor," you gasp, feeling the words tumble out of your mouth. "Please... take me."

His answering growl vibrates against your skin, his fingers snap and your clothes disappear, in a flash, his hands spread your legs and he's laying down on the bed, head between your legs, his tongue pressing against your folds. It's a shockingly intimate sensation, having him so close, and you arch your back further, letting out a whimper as his tongue begins to explore. He's rough and demanding, lapping at your folds, sucking on your clit, driving you wild with need. Your hips buck up off the bed, seeking more of his touch, more of his possession.

"That's it, little doe," he murmurs against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers through you. "Give yourself to me." And you do, giving in to the overwhelming sensations that consume you. Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging gently as he pushes you closer to the edge, your body tensing and releasing in rhythm with his tongue. You feel your orgasm building, and with one final stroke of his tongue, it crashes over you in a wave of pleasure so intense that it steals your breath away.

He's completely enamored with the taste of you, the guttural moan he lets out against your skin makes you shudder.

It's been so long since he's felt this overwhelming need to possess someone, to make them his own, and he's not about to let go now. His fingers trail up your body, finding your breast, kneading and pinching gently, he offers small kisses as he makes his way up your body, until he reaches your neck. He nibbles, sucks, licks and kisses at it for a moment as he desperately unbuttons his pants.

He's already hard, aching for you, and as he frees his cock, he positions himself between your legs, nudging at your entrance. He groans, biting at your neck, just enough for a little bit of blood to come out, as he pushes inside you, filling you up in one smooth stroke. You cry out, arching your back in pleasure as he takes you, claiming you as his. He begins to move, slowly at first, building up a rhythm that matches the need that consumes both of you.

His hand comes up, cupping your breast, his thumb rubbing over your nipple, and you feel the answering tug of desire deep within you. You writhe beneath him, helpless to the sensations that overwhelm you. He's possessive and demanding, taking what he wants and giving you what you need. He growls in approval as you tighten around him, your body moving in perfect synchrony with his.

" That's it, good little doe, taking whatever I give you. "

His thrusts become harder, faster, and you're lost in the rhythm, the heat, the connection. He's demanding and unyielding, but there's an undeniable tenderness in the way he touches you, the way he looks at you. It's a heady mix that sends you spiraling out of control, and you meet him stroke for stroke, arching your back off the bed, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pleasure builds.

The sounds of your bodies colliding fill the room, a symphony of desire and need. He growls and moans, his hips thrusting in a frenzy, his cock pumping inside you, and with each thrust, you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You can feel your orgasm building, growing stronger with each passing second, and when it finally crashes over you, it's a blinding, all-consuming wave of pleasure that leaves you breathless.

He follows you over the edge, his movements becoming more urgent, more intense. He's lost in the sensation of being inside you, feeling you tighten around him, feeling the way you writhe and moan beneath his touch. His thrusts are rough and demanding, his hips slam against yours as he comes, filling you up with his essence. The weight of him atop you is almost too much, but it feels so right, so necessary.

In the hotel's lobby, Angel and Husk share a knowing look as they hear the radio static and watch the flickering lights around the hotel, the chandelier sways slowly from side to side.

"Ya' owe me 100 cash, pussy cat."

" God fucking dammit!"

[ddesguv]

You're not sure where you are, but it feels familiar. You're in a dimly lit room, the only source of illumination being a single candle that flickers gently on a nearby table. The air is thick with anticipation, your heart racing as you realize who is there with you . Alastor. The Overlord himself. He stands before you, his expression a mix of amusement and desire as he takes in your appearance, dressed in nothing but your silk sheets. His eyes roam up and down your body, taking in every inch of you, and for a moment, you feel self-conscious beneath his intense gaze.

But then, something shifts in the air, and his expression turns predatory. He steps closer, his hand reaching out to stroke your cheek. His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you feel your body respond to his touch. You can't help but lean into it, wanting more.

"Ah, you feel it too, don't you?" he whispers, his voice a husky rasp. "The desire, the need..." He trails off, his fingers trailing lower, tracing the outline of your collarbone. You arch into his touch, and he chuckles darkly. "I've been waiting for this moment, my pet. I've been watching you, listening to you..."

His hand finds its way lower still, to your silk sheets, and with a practiced motion, he tugs them down, revealing you to him. Your body is flush with desire, your nipples hard and peaked, your sex already wet with anticipation. Alastor kneels before you, his eyes fixed on your center as he parts your folds with his fingers, teasing you with the promise of pleasure. You gasp, your hips bucking upwards in response to his touch.

"That's it, my pet," he whispers, his hot breath fanning across your sensitive skin. "Let me see how much you want this." He guides his fingers inside you, thrusting slowly, and you cry out, your body tensing with pleasure. He watches you closely, enjoying the sight of your body arching under his touch. With his free hand, he cups your breast, teasing your nipple with his thumb until it's hard and pointed.

The sensation is overwhelming, and you feel yourself begin to spiral out of control. You're lost in the heat of the moment, in Alastor's expert touch. He leans forward, capturing your lips in a brutal kiss, his tongue thrusting deep inside your mouth as he continues to thrust his fingers inside you. You can feel the tension building within you, feel the familiar tightening in your stomach, the fire spreading through your veins.

You moan into his kiss, arching your back off the bed as the pleasure washes over you in waves. Alastor's free hand moves lower still, teasing your folds before finding its way to your clit. He circles it expertly, driving you higher, higher, until you feel the world explode around you. You cry out his name, your body shuddering with release, and he growls in satisfaction.

He pulls back, watching you carefully as you catch your breath. His eyes travel up and down your body, taking in every detail, every expression of pleasure and desire. "You're so beautiful when you come," he murmurs, running his fingers through your hair. "So sweet..." He leans in, pressing his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and words across your skin.

The next thing you know, you are shaken awake.

Your eyes flutter open to find Alastor standing over you. His handsome face is contorted into a wicked grin as he stares down at you, his gaze intense and predatory.

" My dear, I couldn't help but notice you were calling for me as I was passing by, anything I could assist you with?"

[ddesguv]

Sooo, I kinda dreamed about this...

You sit at the edge of your hotel bed, eyes half-closed as you use a well-worn dildo to bring yourself to orgasm. It's been a long, exhausting day of work, and you can't help but feel a heady mix of relief and pleasure wash over you as your hips begin to move in time with your hand. The dildo, a shade of pink that you've always found amusingly suggestive, slides effortlessly in and out of your wet folds, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Just as you're about to reach your peak, you feel a strange sensation in the air, like the room has suddenly grown colder. You glance around, wondering if the air conditioning kicked on, but nothing seems amiss. And then, without warning, a dark figure materializes out of the shadows at the foot of the bed. It's Alastor, looking as dapper as ever in his red suit. You swallow hard, feeling a mixture of fear and arousal surge through you.

" ALASTOR WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"

You yell, startled. His bright red eyes widen in mock surprise. "Oh, dear, darling," he coos, walking slowly around the bed toward you. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I just came to ask you a question."

" I'm sure it can fucking wait, get the hell out of my room!"

He tilts his head, seeming amused by your outburst. "Oh, I don't know, my dear. I rather enjoy seeing you like this. So... flustered." He reaches out, trailing a finger down your cheek. You feel a shiver run down your spine. "You're quite lovely when you're angry."

He steps even closer, invading your personal space. You can smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath, and something bitter on his skin. It's unsettling and yet... arousing. "Now, about that question..." He pauses, looking you dead in the eye. "Would you be interested in having some fun?"

You feel a mixture of anger and desire rise up within you. Part of you wants to tell him to get lost, to leave you alone, but another part... another part wants him to take control. To show you what he's made of. You swallow thickly, trying to steady your nerves. "What kind of fun do you have in mind?" you manage to squeak out.

He grins, revealing sharp, pointed teeth. "Oh, I think you know exactly what kind of fun I'm talking about," he says, moving even closer. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, and it's making it difficult to think straight. He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. "How about I fuck you with that little toy you've been playing with."

His words send a shockwave of desire straight to your core. You try to tell yourself that this is a bad idea, that he's just using you, but it's too late. You're already wet and aching for him. You nod mutely, unable to form words.

He smiles, a wicked grin that makes your heart race. Without another word, he gets on the bed, laying down between you legs, with a hand on your thigh, he spreads them further, and the other grabs the toy inside you. " Now dear, let me have a better look." He says while moving the dildo slowly.

You arch your back, feeling a shiver run down your spine as he pushes the dildo deeper inside you, stretching you in ways you didn't know you could be stretched. His other hand finds its way to your breast, massaging and squeezing it roughly before pinching the nipple hard. You cry out, arching your back even further. He continues to play with you, his movements becoming more urgent and intense, his breath coming faster. "You're so wet, so tight," he growls, sliding the dildo in and out of you.

" Who knew such a common whore like yourself could have such a tight cunt?! I can barely move this accursed thing!"

You whimper, feeling a stab of shame at his words, but it's quickly replaced by the overwhelming desire that he seems to have unleashed within you. You reach down, grasping his head, pulling him closer to you as he continues to thrust. "Fuck you, Alastor," you moan, losing yourself in the sensation of his movements.

" You would love that way too much darling."

His words are harsh, but they only serve to make you want him more. You arch your back, feeling the dildo press against something deep inside you, and you cry out as he finally finds purchase. He growls in response, his hand moving faster, harder, driving the toy deeper and deeper. You can feel the head of the dildo brushing against something so sensitive that every touch sends a wave of pleasure coursing through you. You grip the sheets tightly, digging your nails into the fabric as you lose control, lost to the sensation of his body moving against yours.

" That's it, such a good slut, taking whatever I give you."

His words are like a drug, fueling your desire, and you find yourself meeting each thrust with a moan, your hips moving in time with his hand, seeking out the contact that sends shockwaves of pleasure through you. Your orgasm builds, tightening your core, making it impossible to ignore the ache in your throbbing sex. You're on the brink, just about to lose it, when he pulls the dildo out, only to thrust two fingers in its place. You cry out, arching your back further, your body tensing as the sensation of his fingers filling you overwhelms you.

"I wonder how you taste, I bet I could bring you much more pleasure with my tongue than that toy."

Without another word his mouth is on your pussy.

Your entire body tingles as his tongue makes contact with your swollen, sensitive flesh. He licks and sucks, his teeth scraping against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You grab fistfuls of the sheets, biting down on your lip as your orgasm crashes over you, shuddering through your body. Your hips buck wildly against his mouth, and he doesn't let up, continuing to pleasure you until you're finally spent.

Panting heavily, you feel a mixture of relief and longing wash over you. You want him to keep going, to never stop, but you're also exhausted from the intensity of the pleasure he's brought you. He pulls away from you, licking his lips as he gazes down at your still-throbbing sex. "Well, that was certainly... satisfying." He says, his voice low and rough.

[ddesguv]

Chapter 7

Waking up from a dreamless sleep is quite nice,  you think as you stretch lazily beneath the covers. You're not sure what time it is, but the sky outside is still dark. A small part of you wonders if you should just roll over and go back to sleep, but then you remember your newfound purpose. With a sigh, you throw off the covers and make your way out of bed, the soft carpet muffling your footsteps. The least you could do for Charlie and the others is a grand breakfast, to show your appreciation, you'll go all out today, after a good cup of coffee, obviously.

You pad through the dimly lit hallway to the kitchen, humming a tune under your breath. The scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, and it's enough to make your mouth water. As you pour yourself a steaming mug, you glance out the window, taking in the desolate view of the barren wasteland that passes for nature in this part of the world.

The kitchen is spotless, as always, thanks to your obsessive compulsive tendencies. You crack open a few eggs and carefully whisk them into a large bowl, then chop up some fresh vegetables and fruits.  You'll make some omelettes, pancakes, and some sausage rolls, maybe some muffins too?

At that, the creature disguised as a tattoo on your arm tingles with joy.

" You'd like that wouldn't you?" " Hell yeah"

To say that you are taken aback by the sudden whisper in your mind, is an understatement.

" You can talk? How? Why didn't you say anything until now? Also, do you have a name?"

"When I first got binded to you, I was weak, when you gave me the offerings I craved, it made me stronger. As for a name, not really, but Umbra would be quite fitting, you can call me that if you like."

"Umbra, huh? Well, thank you for the information. Now, about that offerings... do you mean food?"

"Indeed, food does grant me strength. However, I crave something more. I hunger for the souls of the damned, for their flesh and blood. And with them, you can control them, bend them to your will, make them do things that others can't. "

" Ooohkay, that escalated quickly, I don't think I can do that, it would go again what Charlie believes, and what she's trying to do "

" Yes, and you could help her, think about it as sorting out the rotten apples from the good ones, as good as a soul from hell could be."

" I'll think about it, but right now, I need to get back to cooking. I'll make sure there's extra for you too, Umbra. Just don't get any ideas about taking over my body or anything."

With that, you continue preparing breakfast. You're not sure how you feel about having a new voice in your head now, but you suppose it could be useful. You wonder if the others have any inkling of what's going on, or if they're just as oblivious as you were. It's a strange thought, but you file it away for later.

As the food cooks, you clean up the kitchen, humming to yourself. The smell of breakfast fills the air, and you can't help but feel a You make sure to set aside a plate with extra food for Umbra, as promised.

As you carry the plates to the dining room, you notice that the others are still asleep. It's probably for the best, you think. You don't want to have to explain Umbra to them just yet. Instead, you set the food out on the table and pour yourself another cup of coffee.

You spend the next few minutes admiring your handiwork, the aroma of breakfast filling the air. It's almost enough to make you forget about Umbra, if only for a moment. But then you remember her words, about souls and control, and you can't help but feel a shiver down your spine.

The others finally stumble out of bed, yawning and rubbing their eyes. They take one look at the spread before them and let out a chorus of appreciative groans.

Charlie and Vaggie sit beside each other and Angel takes a sit across Charlie, you sit next to Angel.

"Oh this looks delicious, you really outdid yourself this time." Charlie says, giving you a warm smile.

"Thanks, just trying to keep everyone fed and happy." You reply, returning the smile.

As everyone tucks into their breakfast, the conversation slowly begins to flow. Angel talks about her latest run-in with a particularly nasty group of demons, while Vaggie tells a story about a time she accidentally broke a window. You listen intently, half-listening to Umbra's voice in the back of your head, wondering what she would make of their tales.

" Hey Bambi, it's my turn to do the grocery shopping, and you coming with me, I ain't gonna carry all that shit on my own." Angel says while giving you a side eye.

"Sure, no problem. I can go with you," you reply, standing up from the table. The others finish their breakfast and gather their things, ready to face the day.

As you and Angel walk through the city, you can't help but feel a little out of place. The hustle and bustle of the marketplace is overwhelming at first, but you soon find your footing. Angel leads the way, his stride confident and purposeful. You trail behind him, taking in the sights and sounds of the city.

" Aight, since you're the chef and all that, you gonna deal with the vegetables and shit for cooking, I'll grab whateva' else is left."

"Sure, I can do that," you reply, following Angel as he weaves through the crowd. You quickly spot a cart overflowing with fresh produce and make your way over to it. While Angel continues on his search, you start picking out various fruits and vegetables, trying to find the best quality items for your cooking.

As you're selecting some bright red tomatoes, you feel a sudden presence beside you. You turn to find Umbra standing there, observing the scene with interest. "You seem to be quite adept at this," she says, her voice soft and calm. "Do you enjoy shopping for food?"

Startled by her sudden appearance, you quickly reply, "Um, yeah, I mean, it's not bad. I like cooking, so it's sort of a hobby, I guess."

As you continue picking out produce, Umbra remains silent for a moment, studying your actions. You can feel her presence beside you, almost like a gentle breeze. Finally, she speaks again, her voice thoughtful. "You know, it's interesting how much power you could have, if you would do what I told you ."

"I don't know, Umbra," you say, carefully selecting a bunch of carrots. "I've always been pretty good at taking care of myself. I don't think I'd want that kind of responsibility."

Her words hang in the air for a moment, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You glance over at her, but she seems unperturbed by your reaction. Instead, she studies you with those unsettlingly knowing eyes. "You have no idea what kind of power you're capable of," she whispers. " What's that supposed to mean?"

You force a laugh, trying to play it off." Yeah, whatever ." But as you speak, you can't help but feel a growing unease. There's something about Umbra that makes you want to believe her. And yet, at the same time, you're terrified of what giving up control might mean.

As you continue picking out vegetables, you steal a sideways glance at Umbra. She's watching you intently, unreadable. You can't help but feel as though she knows something you don't, and that unsettles you even more. You turn back to the produce, your hands shaking slightly as you grab a bunch of kale.

"Look," you say, trying to sound more confident than you feel, "I appreciate your offer, I really do. But I've got my life here, and I'm happy with it. I don't need any more power or responsibility."

You pause, searching for the right words. "I'm not saying I don't trust you or anything, but I just... I need to think about this. Okay?"

Umbra nods slowly, her expression unreadable. "Very well," she says, her voice soft. "Take your time. But remember, the offer stands." With that, she turns back into the beautiful tattoo on your arm.

As you finish picking out the rest of the vegetables, you can't help but feel a mixture of relief and unease. On one hand, you're glad that Umbra didn't push you further. On the other, her words continue to echo in your mind, making you wonder if she's right about everything.

As you finally finish your selection and turn back to Angel, you spot him holding a large basket of groceries. "Got everything toots?" he asks.

"Yeah, looks like it," you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

" Good, before we get back to the hotel, I need to make a quick stop, do as I say and all's gonna be good."

Angel leads you through the crowd to a small, dimly lit alleyway. As you walk, you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched. The air is thick with a mix of exhaust fumes and rotting garbage, and the sound of distant sirens echoes through the streets. The alley is lined with abandoned crates and discarded furniture, making it feel even more claustrophobic.

" Stay here, don't move, don't make a sound until I get back, and this stays between us." He says as he hands you his grocery bags.

You nod, trying to keep your nerves in check as he disappears around a corner. You look around, trying to distract yourself from the growing sense of unease. A rat scurries across the ground nearby, and you shudder. Your gaze drifts back to the entrance of the alley, waiting for Angel to return. The silence is deafening, and it feels like every second that passes stretches on for an eternity.

A few minutes pass and you hear Angel shouting from around the corner, he sounds angry.

"Hurry it up, I don't have all day!" he yells.

" Shut it whore, ya don't get to boss me around " another voice, deeper and angrier.

You hear a muffled thud, followed by a pained groan. Your heart races as you jump back, your grip tightening on the groceries. What the hell is going on? You put the bags down and very carefully step towards the corner.

Peering around it, you see Angel on the ground, a large, burly demon towering over him. The man is wearing a dirty leather jacket and has a sinister grin on his face. He's holding a knife, its blade pressed against Angel's throat.

Before anything bad can happen to Angel, you stretch your marked arm, only one thought in mind, kill that fucker. What happens next seems to be in slow motion, you watch as the same appendages that came to your rescue, dart towards the demons figure, spearing him trough his shoulder, stomach and legs, they raise him up a few good feet, only to slam him on the ground, pinning him there .

Only now you realize that you actually missed this, the screaming, the blood,the feeling of power, the fear etched into the person's face, it's all a blissful sight.

The lust for carnage sets deep inside your body as you get closer to the pathetic demon who's screaming in agony at your feet.

You look back at Angel who's still on the ground, gasping for air and clutching his wounds. He glances at you with a mixture of shock and gratitude, his eyes wide with disbelief.

The demon, still pinned to the ground beneath your appendages, spits blood at you. "You little bitch!" he growls. "I'll get you for this!"

As his words leave his mouth, you allow Umbra to materialize besides you, watching as she flows from your arm, dark and twisted smoke of shadows twirls and slithers across the ground as she takes form, a monster of darkness wrapped in ink and abyssal wrath with eyes of glowing stars. A multitude of crude hands with claws of death reach for the pathetic demon on the ground, happy to be allowed to feast on such rotten soul.

You watch as she tears his limbs and flesh, clawing at his guts, an orchestral symphony of agony and mauled flesh that gives you an euphoric pleasure. This is what you truly want.

Angel, still struggling to his feet, looks at you with wide eyes, horror and fascination mixed in equal parts. He doesn't seem to be able to comprehend what's happening, and you can't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction at his reaction.

As Umbra feeds on the demon, you step back, allowing her to indulge in her meal. You can feel her power coursing through you, filling you with a newfound confidence and strength. You look down at your hands, now tingling with energy, as if they're itching to tear something apart.

Angel seems to have regained some of his composure, though he's still visibly shaken. "Are you...?" he starts, gesturing at Umbra with a trembling hand. "What is that?"

" Apparently she's part of me"

You answer, feeling a strange sense of ownership over the creature. Umbra finishes her meal, licking her claws clean as the last bits of flesh and bone slip from her grasp. She curls back into you, the darkness flowing back into your arm, leaving only a faint trail of smoke behind.

" I'm not quite sure how it works, but I'm learning to control it. I'm still getting used to it all," you admit, looking down at your hand.

Angel nods slowly, seeming to be lost in thought. "Well, ya saved my ass back there. I guess I owe you one."

You shrug modestly. "Don't worry about it. We're in this together, right? Also, this stays between us, I don't really want the girls to know I casually killed a guy" You gesture around at the dark alley you two are in.

Angel chuckles nervously. "Right. Well, let's get out of here."You both emerge from the alley, with the bags of groceries, blinking in the harsh light of the street. Angel looks over his shoulder once more, then turns back to you, a wary expression on his face.

Soon enough, the two of you are back at the hotel, you give the shopping bags to Vaggie and Charlie, letting them to take care of them. Right now, you need a nice relaxing shower . As you walk towards your room, Umbra's voice echoes in your mind.

"You did well." she says, her tone both respectful and playful. "That demon was no match for you. You should let your power flow more often."

You smile to yourself, enjoying the sensation of having Umbra's presence inside your head. It's like having a trusted confidante always by your side. As you reach your room, you hesitate for a moment, debating whether to take a shower first or talk to Angel about what happened earlier. On second thought, maybe you should leave it as it is.

You make your way towards the dresser, picking out a clean change of clothes and some towels, taking them inside the bathroom.

As you strip off your dirty clothes, you can't help but wonder what it would be like to fully embrace Umbra's power. The thought excites you, making your heart race. You step into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the grime and sweat of the day. The steam clouds the room, obscuring your vision, and you close your eyes, letting your senses focus on the feel of the water and the warmth that radiates from your body.

As you lather yourself with soap, you imagine what it would be like to fight alongside Umbra, to feel her power surging through you. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. You picture her tearing through demons and other hellspawn, her claws leaving a trail of destruction in her wake. The image is intoxicating, and for a moment, you feel as though you could take on the world.

You rinse the soap from your body, letting the water cascade over your shoulders and down your chest. You wonder what else Umbra could teach you, what other abilities she might have. The thought makes you feel both excited and slightly nervous. You hope you'll be able to control her properly, that you won't end up hurting anyone else.

As you towel yourself dry, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. You look stronger, more confident. It's as if the events of the day have transformed you into someone new.

You put on the clean clothes, feeling their softness against your skin. The pants hug your legs snugly, and the shirt hangs loosely over your chest. It's not quite like your old clothes, but it feels good nonetheless.

As you step out of the bathroom, you notice that Angel is sitting on the bed, staring at the floor. He seems deep in thought, his expression unreadable.

" Uhhh, Hi, what are you doing in my room?"

Angel looks up at you, his expression shifting from contemplative to sheepish. "Sorry, just... wanted to talk. About earlier, I mean."

You nod, sitting down next to him on the bed. "What's on your mind?"

Angel takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "Well, I just wanted to say thanks again for having my back. Back there, I mean. And... well, about what happened with that demon. It was pretty badass, what you did. You didn't even break a sweat."

He pauses, searching for the right words. "It's just that... I never really knew what you were capable of. I mean, you never talked about it, and... well, I guess I just didn't want to pry." He looks down at his hands, fidgeting nervously.

" Trust me, I only found out today too." You say, looking at him with a small smile on your face.

There's a moment of silence between you, before Angel finally looks up at you. "So... what now? I mean, with you being... you know... Umbra's vessel?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitate for a moment, considering your answer. "Well, I don't know. I mean, we'll have to see how things go. I'll keep training, keep learning how to control this power. And hopefully, I won't end up hurting anyone else." You say, your tone serious. "But for now, I think we should just... keep living our lives. Be there for each other, you know?"

Angel nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I guess so. You really are something else, you know that?" He reaches out, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Whatever happens, I've got your back."

" The feelings mutual, now If you'll excuse me, I need to go and get started on dinner."

You leave the room, feeling a sense of camaraderie with Angel that you hadn't experienced before. The weight of Umbra's power seems a little lighter now, almost like it's become a part of you rather than something foreign. You head into the kitchen, humming to yourself as you prepare the ingredients for tonight's meal.

The familiar scents of garlic, onions, and spices fill the air as you chop, dice, and sauté. Your movements are practiced and efficient, reflecting the hours you've spent cooking with your mother over the years. You find yourself lost in the rhythm of it all, allowing your thoughts to drift to Umbra and the possibilities of what you might learn from her.

As you cook, you can't help but feel a sense of pride in your abilities. Not only do you know how to create delicious meals, but you also have this newfound power coursing through your veins. It's exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

The kitchen fills with the rich aroma of the stew you're making, a mixture of beef, vegetables, and spices that melt into a beautiful symphony of aromas that dance across your tongue.

With dinner finished, you go get the others, first Charlie and Vaggie, then Angel.

Currently you are all at the dining table, eating in silence, just enjoying the good meal and company.

Angel seems a little more relaxed now, almost like he's found peace with the whole situation. He keeps glancing at you from the corner of his eye, as if he's trying to figure something out, but you don't mind.

Dinner comes and goes, now you are back in your room, trying to sleep, but Umbra's voice keeps you awake.

" Today was fun, don't you think so? All the carnage and the screams of that pathetic man, they sure made you really happy"

You sigh and sit up in bed, rubbing your eyes. "Umbra, I don't enjoy that stuff. It's not like I wanted any of that to happen. I just wanted to help Angel , you know?"

" Foolish, foolish creature you are, you think you are some self-righteous hero? That there's a reason for your killing? Spare me your insolent words and let me spell it out for you. I am you, your deepest desires, deepest darkest secrets, your most unsettling thought, I am the you that you hide, because you are too afraid of the consequences, the only reason I got binded to you, is because we are one and the same, because we both crave violence,carnage and power."

You frown, trying to think of a response to that.

" There's no need to offer me your lies, I'll just wait for you to see what you truly are, now rest."

You close your eyes, trying to block out Umbra's voice, but it's no use. The darkness in your mind seems to swirl and grow, like a storm gathering strength before it breaks. You can feel her presence, her anger, her hunger for destruction.

A restless night follows, filled with fitful sleep and vivid nightmares. You wake up several times, sweaty and disoriented, convinced that you've heard something outside your room. Each time, you force yourself back to sleep, only to be plagued by more dreams of violence and chaos.

As the sun begins to rise, casting its first rays of light through your window, you finally manage to fall into a deep, dreamless slumber. But even in your sleep, you can feel Umbra's presence lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

[ddesguv]

Chapter 6

You don't even remember falling asleep last night, but now you're suddenly jolted awake by a strange sensation. Your stomach grumbles, demanding food. It's been... hours? You sit up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, and glance around the lobby, it seems you fell asleep here on the couch . Hm... You need a cup of coffee, and some breakfast . You stand up, stretching your muscles, and pad over to the grand kitchen of the hotel.

Once in the kitchen, you put all your energy into making the perfect cup of coffee once again, the shadowy creature that holds the place of a tattoo on your arm emits a slow, tingly feeling across it, perhaps trying to get your attention? You close your eyes and try to concentrate on the sensations that try to reach you from it. A subtle craving for waffles blooms inside you.

You grin, deciding that some breakfast is indeed in order, and set about making a batch of waffles. The scent of them cooking fills the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation. While they cook, you take the coffee over to the table and pour yourself a steaming mugful, enjoying the rich aroma as you sip it.

The shadowy tattoo on your arm continues to tingle and pulse gently, as if trying to get your attention. Curious, you focus on it, trying to discern what it might be trying to tell you. As you do so, a small, dark tendril slips free from the mass of smoke and shadow and curls around your finger, guiding your hand to the waffle iron.

You follow its lead, taking the waffles out of the iron just as they begin to brown and crisp, filling the room with the irresistible aroma of maple syrup and freshly baked dough. You place three plates on the table, heaping a serving of waffles onto each one, then pour syrup and a sprinkling of powdered sugar over them. They look absolutely delicious. You let the little shadow have a go at a waffle, extending your arm towards the plate and watching as it's smoky tendrils swirl and wiggle forming a somewhat normal shape of a hand, unlike last time, you can't help the chuckle that escapes at the thought of an eldritch horror looking thing asking for chicken nuggets and waffles.

Time to get Charlie and Vaggie up for breakfast.You make your way out of the kitchen, humming contentedly, and head towards the room that the two girls share . The hallway is eerily quiet, but you're not worried. The shadow on your arm feels... different today. More alive. As if it's beginning to understand you, and you it. You can't help but feel a sense of belonging, of purpose. You reach the door to the room and knock gently on it.

"Charlie? Vaggie? You guys up for some breakfast?" you call out. There's a muffled groan from the bed, and then Vaggie pokes her head out. She blinks sleepily at you, her eyes slowly focusing.

"Mm... breakfast sounds amazing," she says, yawning. "Is it ready?"

"It's just about on the table," you reply, gesturing back towards the kitchen. "Come and get it." She nods, then turns and disappears back into the bedroom, calling for Charlie. A moment later, your friend emerges, rubbing her eyes and stretching.

"Charlie, we've got breakfast," you say with a grin. "Waffles, coffee, the works." She yawns and nods, following you back to the kitchen. As you enter, the warm, sweet smell of waffles and coffee fills the air, and the sight of the plate piled high with breakfast food is enough to make your stomach rumble in anticipation.

The three of you sit down at the table, and you can't help but feel a sense of contentment as you watch them dig in. Vaggie takes a bite of her waffle and closes her eyes in bliss, while Charlie pours syrup over her plate with gusto. They chat and laugh between bites, and you can't help but feel like you're part of something special.

" Hey, you heard anything about Angel?" You can't help but ask, you aren't exactly worried about him, but still hope he's ok.

"Nope, he's probably at the studio sucking dick" Vaggie says with a hand in the air moving it dismissively.

Charlie rolls her eyes, "Vaggie, that's not funny."

"What? It's true. You know that's literally his job, he's a pornstar ."

You can't help but chuckle at that. Angel did seem to have a bit of a reputation, but he was a good guy.

"I hope he's okay. He seemed pretty down the other day." You say, taking another sip of your coffee.

"Oh, he'll be fine. He's just going through a rough patch, that's all. You know how it is," Vaggie says with a knowing smile, but there's a hint of concern in her voice.

Charlie nods in agreement, "Yeah, he'll pull through. He's got us, after all." She glances over at you and grins. "And we've got you, right?"

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at her words. "Always," you reply, giving her a reassuring smile as you get up and collect the dirty dishes.

Vaggie and Charlie follow suit, helping you clear the table and wash the dishes. The three of you work together seamlessly, like you've been doing it for years. As you finish up, you can't help but think that this feels right.

" Thanks for the breakfast, we should all probably go get dressed and head to the mall now" Vaggie says while drying he hands on a kitchen towel.

"Yeah, it's still early enough that we should be able to get some good parking spots," Charlie agrees. "I can't wait to see what kind of trouble we can get into today."

The three of you head back to your respective rooms, gathering your belongings and changing into more casual clothes. You've borrowed some of Charlie's old clothes, they don't exactly fit you, but they'll do for now, hopefully you'll find something nice at the mall.

Once you're all dressed, you make your way out to the car. Surprised to see that it's a fucking limousine.

"Holy shit, Charlie! This is amazing!" You exclaim, running over to the car and inspecting it.

"The mall?" the limo driver says with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, uh, yeah. We mean... we're just heading out for the day," Charlie stammers, looking a bit embarrassed. "Right, Vaggie?"

The limo driver smirks and nods, already opening the door for you. "Well, enjoy your day, ladies. The car will take you wherever you'd like to go."

You climb into the luxurious interior of the limousine, taking in the plush seats, the mini-bar, and the flat-screen TV mounted on the ceiling. It's like being in a whole other world. Vaggie and Charlie exchange glances, clearly enjoying your enthusiasm.

The driver closes the door and gets behind the wheel, and with a smooth rev of the engine, you're on your way to the mall. As you cruise down the street, you can't help but feel a sense of freedom and excitement. You decide to take advantage of the limo's amenities and help yourself to a drink from the mini-bar. You try not to show your disappointment when you discover that it's filled with water and soda, no alcohol.

" I should have probably made a list with the things I need" you say, felling a little stupid for not considering better the things you need.

"Don't worry about it, we'll find everything we need" Charlie reply with a reassuring smile. "We can always go to the department stores and window shop for stuff we like."

You look out the window as the limo pulls into the mall parking lot, taking in the sprawling complex of shops and restaurants. It's a pleasant day in hell, it seems, well, if you ignore the dead bodies and guts smeared across the streets.

The three of you step out of the car and head inside, the air-conditioning a welcome relief from the humidity. You let Vaggie and Charlie lead the way, content to wander aimlessly and take in the sights and sounds of the mall. There's a certain energy here, a sense of possibility. Even though you're technically among the living dead, you can't help but feel a spark of life within you.

You find yourselves drawn to a department store, its expansive windows displaying the latest fashions. "Ooh, let's check out the clothes," Vaggie suggests, and the three of you wander over to the women's section. You lose yourselves for a while, trying on dresses and skirts, debating the merits of various tops and blouses.

The store is practically deserted, save for a few wandering sales associates. It's almost eerie, like a scene out of a post-apocalyptic movie. But there's something comforting about it too. The three of you are free to explore, to try on whatever you want, without anyone judging you. You can't help but feel a sense of freedom and liberation.

You decide it's best to shop for essentials first, t-shirts, pants, underwear and socks.You spend some time in the mall, buying the things you need and having a good time. You find yourself growing closer to Vaggie and Charlie as you shop together, sharing stories and laughing at your past lives.

The afternoon sun begins to dip below the horizon, painting the sky a warm, golden hue. You decide it's time to head back to the car. As you walk through the mall, you can't help but feel a sense of nostalgia for the world that you left. There's something bittersweet about being here, surrounded by the remnants of a past life.

You and your new friends stop at a food court, deciding to grab a bite to eat before heading home. You chat animatedly as you choose from the various fast-food options, your conversation flowing as easily as the various flavors of soda. Who knew hell would be such a lovely place?

As you finish your meal, you feel a sudden urge to see what's playing at the movie theater. It's been years since you've been to one, and you can't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia. Vaggie and Charlie seem game, so you head over to the theater, purchasing tickets for the latest blockbuster that hell has to offer.

Biggest mistake of your imortal life, the movie was shit, the acting was shit, everything was shit, this might be true hell, being subjected to torture in the form of poor media and television.

You, Vaggie and Charlie endure the two hours of garbage on the screen, and as soon as the credits start to roll, you can't help but feel relieved. "Well, that was... something," Vaggie says with a sigh. "Shall we go back to the limo?"

You nod in agreement, grateful to escape the theater. As you make your way through the mall once more, you find yourself reflecting on the day. Despite the occasional reminder of your new existence, it's been surprisingly enjoyable. You've met new friends, shopped for clothes, and even managed to catch a movie.

You can't help but wonder what tomorrow will bring. Maybe you'll explore the city further, find new places to visit, or simply relax and unwind at home. The possibilities seem endless, and for once, you're not afraid of the future. Maybe this hell isn't so bad after all.

As you reach the car, the driver holds open the backseat door for you, Vaggie, and Charlie. You climb in, settling into the plush leather as the driver starts the engine. The air conditioning feels amazing after being outside, and you lean back, enjoying the ride home.

As the cityscape passes by outside, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness for the world that you left behind. But at the same time, you're grateful for the experiences you've had today. This new existence may not be perfect, but it's not all bad either.

The car pulls up to the hotel, and the driver comes around to open your door. You step out, taking a deep breath of the cool evening air. The hotel is lit up, casting a warm glow onto the grounds. It's hard not to feel a sense of belonging here, despite knowing that this place is just as much a part of hell as anything else.

Once you and the girls are inside the lobby you let yourself fall on the couch, happy to be home, today was quite exhausting."Well, that was a fun day out, wasn't it?" Vaggie says, sitting down beside you.

"Yeah, it really was. I can't believe we did all that," Charlie agrees, flopping down on the other side of you. " Also, before I forget" she rummages trough one of her shopping bags, you're surprised to she that she hands you a phone and a credit card " These are for you, I would like to formally employ you as the chef for this hotel!"

" Charlie... when did you even get them? I can't possibly accept this, you've done so much for me already, I don't even know what to say!"

"You're going to say 'thank you' and you're going to take them. Now come on, you're good at cooking and we're going to need it. Now I know you won't starve us with that card, so just accept it. And as for the phone, it's for emergencies and if you need anything, just call me and I'll be there." She says with a soft smile.

You take the items from her, still feeling a bit overwhelmed. "Thank you, Charlie. I'll do my best to make sure you and everyone else here at the hotel are well taken care of." You say, feeling a small lump forming in your throat.

Vaggie pats you on the shoulder. "You'll do great Bambi. And if you ever need any help or have any questions, feel free to ask me. I'm more than happy to help out."

You smile at her, feeling a sense of gratitude and belonging wash over you. Even though this hell might not be perfect, you've found a new family here. And as long as you have them, you can make it through anything.

As the three of you sit there, enjoying the comfortable silence, you can't help but wonder what tomorrow will bring. Perhaps another day of exploring the city, or maybe some much-needed relaxation by the pool. The possibilities are endless, and for the first time in a long time, you're not afraid to embrace the unknown.

You are jolted from your thoughts by the sound of the entrance door being rudely slammed shut, as you turn around you are pleased to see it's Angel Dust.

" Sup bitches" he says waving two of his hands while a third one holds his glasses and the forth one is placed on his hip.

"Hey Angel" you reply with a smile, feeling a bit more comfortable knowing that he's alive.

Vaggie and Charlie exchange glances, clearly curious about what's going on. "And what have you been up to today, Angel?" Vaggie asks, her voice laced with a hint of suspicion.

" Don't get your tits in a twist Vagina, I ain't on drugs."

"Well, that's a relief," Charlie says with a sigh. "So, how was work ?"

" Do ya really wanna know?"

" Yeah... One second thought, maybe not"

"That's what I thought, anyway, what's for dinner, I'm starved"

" I was thinking about some pizza, I really want to try out that oven "

" Sounds good to me, I'm in"

With that said, you make your way to the kitchen ready to make some dough and one hell of a pizza.

As you get to work, you can't help but feel grateful for the new phone and credit card. It's a nice reminder that you have people who care about you here. You wonder what kind of life you would have ended up with if you hadn't met them. Maybe you would have just kept on running, never finding any peace.

The dough comes together quickly, thanks to your years of practice. You shape it into a large circle and then top it with a layer of tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella cheese, and a generous amount of pepperoni. The oven is already preheated to the perfect temperature, and it doesn't take long for the pizza to cook. Soon, the delicious aroma fills the air.

You hear a commotion coming from the lobby, and you know that the others must be hungry. You take the pizza out of the oven and carefully transfer it to a cutting board. As you slice it up, you hear laughter and excited chatter coming from the others. You join them in the lobby, carrying the large pizza to the center of the group.

The aroma of freshly baked pizza fills the air, and everyone's eyes light up as they see the delicious meal in front of them. Angel practically inhales his first slice, moaning with delight. "This is the some good shit, not as good as my nonna would make tho.," he says, wiping the cheese from his mouth.

Charlie and Vaggie exchange a knowing glance before sitting down on the couch together, each taking a slice of pizza for themselves. They laugh and talk animatedly, their voices echoing through the lobby.

You take a seat on the floor next to them, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. This might not be the perfect life, but it's starting to feel like home. The familiar scent of smoke and sweat in the air, the worn-out furniture, and the mismatched decorations all blend together to create an atmosphere that's unique to this place.

As you watch the others eat and chat, you can't help but wonder what their stories are. Angel is the obvious wild card, but even Charlie and Vaggie have their secrets. There's a certain sadness in their eyes that you can't quite place, as if they're carrying around some unspoken burden. But at the same time, they're strong and resilient, able to find joy in the little things like a shared pizza.

The conversation drifts from one topic to another, covering everything from the latest news to old memories. You listen intently, feeling a part of the group for the first time in a long while. It's not perfect, but it's something. And in this place, that's enough.

As the night wears on, the pizza is devoured, and the dishes are cleared away, you find yourself drawn to the window, staring out at the darkened cityscape. The lights twinkle like stars, and the neon signs cast an otherworldly glow over the streets. It's a beautiful, yet eerie sight that you can't seem to tear your eyes away from.

"What's with you tonight, huh?" Angel asks, sidling up beside you. He leans his elbow on the window frame and peers out into the night as well. "You seem a little... deep in thought."

You shrug, not quite sure how to explain it.

"I honestly don't know, it feels like something's missing, and it kinda scares me, because what's missing is that adrenaline rush I had back up top, when I was elbows deep into some fuckers guts, I thought I did what I did to help people, to make the world a little safer, and now I'm starting to realize that it was mostly for me."

" Holy shit toots, ya got some issues, don't worry tho, you're in hell, go nuts, you could walk down the street and stab every hoe you see, and no one's gonna give a fuck."

Angel says, laughing, but there's a serious undertone to his voice that makes you wonder if he's just trying to convince himself of that.

You turn away from the window, a strange mixture of emotions churning in your stomach. Part of you wants to believe what Angel says, to embrace the chaos and violence that this place has to offer. But another part of you reminds you of what Charlie is trying to do, you can't go around murdering demons just for the fun of it then stay here knowing that Charlie would be against something like that.

You've always been a good person, you've always tried to help others, and now you're just stuck in this hellhole, wondering what the point of it all is. Then it hits you, rapists, abusers, pedos, hell must be full of them, it wouldn't be too bad if you go after them, right?

You turn towards Angel, offering him a small smile" You're probably right, but for now I'll sleep on it, good night Angel"

He smirks, nodding in understanding. "Good night. Don't let the bedbugs bite. Too hard~"

You laugh, shoving him lightly before turning away from the window. As you make your way back to the couch, you can't help but feel a renewed sense of purpose. Yes, maybe this place isn't all fun and games, and maybe you're not exactly living the life you thought you would. But there are still people here who need help, people who deserve justice. And if that means taking on the demons of the underworld, then so be it.

You collect your shopping bags and make your way towards your room, ready to hit the hay.

[ddesguv]

This genuinely makes me happy, thank you all 😸

[ddesguv]

Chapter 5

The sound of knocking from your door jolts you from your dreamless sleep.

"One minute!" you call out, scrambling to sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes. You glance around the room, disoriented for a moment, before remembering where you are.

The knocking continues, growing more insistent with each passing second. It's not just a simple tap anymore; it's a demanding rhythm, urging you to answer. You stand up and stride purposefully towards the door, a newfound sense of determination coursing through your veins.

As you reach the door and turn the knob, you're greeted by the sight of a familiar face. It's Angel Dust, he looks at you, unimpressed with your disheveled morning look.

" By the damn time ya woke up toots, c'mon we're having breakfast, Vaggie and Charlie are waiting in da kitchen" he says gesturing with one of his four arms towards the hallway.

You nod, following him out of the room and down the hall.Angel leads you to the kitchen, where Vaggie and Charlie are already seated at the table, plates piled high with what appears to be a hearty breakfast.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Charlie greets you with a smile, motioning for you to take a seat. "I trust you slept well?" Her tone is light and teasing, but you can see the concern lurking just beneath the surface.

You nod, trying to muster up a half-hearted smile in return. "Yeah, I did. Thanks for asking." You take a seat at the table and survey the breakfast spread. Your stomach growls in anticipation, reminding you that you haven't eaten in quite some time.

As you reach for a fork, Angel slides a plate in front of you, piled high with eggs, bacon, toast, and a heaping helping of home fries. The smell is heavenly, and for a moment, you almost forget about your new existence. Almost.

"So, how are you feeling?" Vaggie asks, her voice gentle but concerned. "It's been a big adjustment, huh?"

You take a bite of the bacon, savoring the salty flavor as it dances on your tongue. "Yeah, it has," you reply between mouthfuls. "But I'm getting there. Thanks for having me here."

Charlie nods, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand reassuringly. "There's no need to thank us," she says with a warm smile. "This is your home now, and we're all family here. You'll find your place, just give it time."

As you finish your breakfast, you can't help but feel a sense of belonging beginning to take root within you. The weight of your past life seems to be slowly lifting, and you find yourself looking forward to exploring your new surroundings.

But first, coffee.

"So, where do I find the coffee maker around here?" you ask, already feeling the need for a caffeine fix.

Charlie points down the hall with her free hand. "It's in the kitchen, just down the hall and to the right. Help yourself, hon."

As you make your way to the kitchen, you can't help but marvel at the ornate decorations that adorn the walls. Paintings of demons and hellish landscapes hang from gilded frames, casting an otherworldly glow over the room. A large stove dominates one side of the kitchen, its ovens and burners glowing with an unearthly fire.

The coffee maker sits on the counter, its carafe full to the brim with the rich, aromatic brew. You pour yourself a mug and take a sip, savoring the bitter sweetness as it spreads through your body. The warmth of the coffee and the familiar taste help to ease some of the residual tension from your dreams.

"Hey, Vaggie," you call out, "do you have any milk or cream for my coffee?"

You hear footsteps approaching from behind, and then Vaggie appears at your side, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "Yeah, sure" she says with a warm smile. "We have both milk and cream in the fridge. Which would you prefer?"

" Both please"

You follow Vaggie over to the refrigerator, which hums softly in the background. The interior is well-organized, with shelves lined with various dairy products, fruits, and vegetables. She opens the door and reaches in to retrieve a carton of milk and a small container of cream. She hands them to you with a grateful nod.

"Thank you"

Back at the counter, you pour the milk into your coffee and then add a dollop of the cream. The rich, creamy texture is divine, and the combination of flavors is perfect. You take another sip, savoring the decadence as it spreads through your body.

You make your way back to the lobby, take a seat beside Angel on the couch, Charlie and Vaggie are cuddled on the other one.

Charlie looks up at you.

" How are you feeling so far?"

"Better, actually. The coffee really helped." You pause, taking another sip from your mug. "I'm still trying to process everything, but I think I'm adjusting."

Charlie smiles reassuringly. "That's good to hear. And remember, if you ever need someone to talk to, or need help finding your way around, we're all here for you."

"Thank you, I honestly don't know how I could ever repay you "

" You don't have to pay while you stay here "

" I know, but I feel like I'm in debt to you all"

There's a brief pause as everyone takes a moment to consider your words. Then, Vaggie speaks up. "You could always help us around here, if you're feeling up to it. We're always in need of an extra pair of hands."

" That's actually a good idea, it would give me something to do, not to toot my own horn, but I'm pretty good at cooking and cleaning " you say offering an awkward smile.

Charlie smiles warmly. "Well, we could always use another cook around here. And as for cleaning, don't worry about it. We'll find something for you to do that you enjoy."

Vaggie nods in agreement. "Yes, we'd be more than happy to have you help us out. And who knows, maybe we'll even learn a thing or two from you in the kitchen."

" I got a few questions " you say looking hopefully at Charlie.

Charlie raises an eyebrow in question. "Of course. What would you like to know?"

" Isn't hell supposed to be, like ... A place where souls get eternal torture or something like that?"

Charlie chuckles softly. "Oh, dear. You've been reading too many myths. Yes, that's how it was once upon a time. But things have changed quite a bit since then. Nowadays, hell is more of a ... well, a place where souls go to spend eternity in the department of sin, don't get me wrong, there's a lot of violence and carnage everywhere, that's why I opened up this hotel, everyone deserves a second chance "

"So, in this new version of hell, the souls who come here don't necessarily get eternal torture?" you ask, a bit confused.

"Oh no, no, no," Charlie assures you. "It's not like that at all. Everyone who ends up here has committed some sort of sin, whether it's big or small. They still have to face the consequences of their actions, but it's not all about being tortured forever."

You aren't quite sure that you understand, but you decide to leave it as it is.

" Another question, what's with the smoke? shadow, appendages thingy?"

" The what now?" Charlie looks at you like you've grown two heads.

Angel, who's been occupied with his phone? speaks up.

" Yeah, she held me hostage with em when we met, was kinda hot tho" he says winking your way.

You decide to offer no comment on the last part.

" That's probably your demon power, majority of demons don't have one, let alone a mortal soul, but still, the amount of sins you committed while alive amount to how powerful you are" Charlie explains carefully, looking a little bit uncomfortable.

" Look, I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I'm a saint, I killed a lot of people, but just know, the one's I killed, belong into the deepest depths of hell." You say, clarifying the situation .

The room fills with a somewhat awkward atmosphere, the silence being disrupted by Charlie clearing her throat.

"Well, I think that's enough deep thinking for one day. Angel, why don't you show our new friend around the hotel? There's plenty of work to be done." She says, steering the conversation in a different direction.

With the most exaggerated sigh and roll of his eyes he looks between you and Charlie.

" Do I really need to?"

"Yes, you do. You can't spend the rest of the day in your room playing with your phone."

"Fine, fine. Let's just get this over with." Angel says, standing up and stretching. "Follow me, newbie."

The two of you exit the room, making your way through the hotel. The halls are dimly lit, with a hazy red light filtering through the stained glass windows.

"So, what do you do here? Besides running around looking for someone to boss around, I mean." You ask, trying to make conversation.

Angel looks at you sideways before shrugging. "I work as a porn star, the best in the industry baby, but most of the time I get blasted with coke or some other shit. Uh, do me a favor and keep that between you and me, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll keep it to myself," you reply, wondering if you should take him seriously or not.

Angel takes you around the hotel, showing you where his room is, along with Vaggie and Charlie's room.

You are quite surprised to see that the hotel has quite a big library, you'll be checking it out later.

With the tour done you make your way towards the kitchen, deciding to do something nice for your new... friends? Can you call them that?

Anyway, you'll make something nice for lunch.

"Hey Angel, I'm gonna head to the kitchen and see what I can whip up for lunch, you want anything in particular?" you ask, already feeling a bit more at home here.

"Nah, just make whateva'." Angel answers, clearly not paying attention to you. He's too busy fiddling with his phone.

You head to the kitchen, feeling a little hurt by his lack of interest but decide not to let it bother you. After all, you're just getting to know him. The kitchen is well-stocked with fresh ingredients and modern appliances.

You decide to make a hearty pasta dish, something that would warm everyone up on this chilly day. As you work, you can't help but wonder how long you'll be staying here. You hope it's not for too long, but at the same time, you don't want to rush out of here either. The more you think about it, the more confused you feel.

The pasta is finished cooking and you drain it, saving some of the cooking water for later. As you put the noodles back into the pot, you add some butter and parmesan cheese, stirring until it's all combined. You take a small taste test and find it to be delicious.

Deciding to make the most of your time in the kitchen, you decide to clean up while the pasta cools down. You gather the dirty dishes and utensils, washing them carefully before stacking them neatly on the drying rack. The kitchen starts to look spotless again.

As you work, you can't help but wonder what kind of person Angel really is. He seems to have a tough exterior, but you've caught glimpses of a more vulnerable side of him too. You're not sure if he's someone you could trust, but for now, you're willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

The pasta dish cools down, and you transfer it to a serving bowl, garnishing it with some chopped parsley. You take a deep breath, feeling satisfied with your work. You can't wait for everyone to taste it. You walk out of the kitchen, holding the serving bowl in one hand and a pasta ladle in the other.

As you make your way through the dimly lit hallway, you see Angel leaning against the wall, looking rather bored. "Hey, I'm done making lunch. It's in the dining room," you say, trying to sound casual.

Angel shrugs and follows you to the dining room. Vaggie and Charlie are already seated at the table, looking up expectantly. "What did you make for us, newbie?" Vaggie asks, her voice laced with curiosity.

You place the serving bowl in the center of the table and then put the ladle next to it. "It's a hearty pasta dish with butter, parmesan cheese, and a little bit of parsley. I hope you like it."

Vaggie smiles at you appreciatively and Charlie nods, giving you a thumbs up. "It smells amazing, thanks," she says, sounding genuinely grateful. Angel, on the other hand, simply shrugs and takes a seat at the table without saying a word.

As you all dig in, the aroma of the pasta fills the dining room, making your stomach rumble in appreciation. The noodles are perfectly al dente, the sauce rich and creamy, and the parmesan cheese melts beautifully on top. It's a simple dish, but it tastes so good.

"Damn, this is good," Vaggie says between bites. "I haven't had food this good in ages." She looks over at you, a newfound respect in her eyes. "You've got some skills in the kitchen, newbie."

Charlie nods in agreement, "Yeah, this is great. Thanks for making it."

You smile, feeling pleased with their reaction. As you eat, you can't help but notice that Angel hasn't said much, just shoveling food into his mouth without much enthusiasm. You wonder what his deal is.

The conversation continues around you, with Vaggie and Charlie asking you questions about your life before you came here. They seem genuinely interested in getting to know you, and you find yourself opening up to them more and more. They share stories about their own lives as well, and you're surprised to find how much you have in common with them, despite your different backgrounds.

As you're talking, you keep glancing over at Angel, who is still mostly silent, but every now and then you catch him rolling his eyes at something Vaggie or Charlie says. It's almost like he's amused by their antics, but he doesn't want to show it. You can't help but wonder what he's thinking, or why he's here. He doesn't seem like the type of person who would enjoy being in a place like this.

The conversation eventually turns to more serious topics, like the rules of the house and what's expected of them. You listen intently, taking it all in. Angel, however, seems to grow more and more restless as the discussion continues. He starts tapping his fingers on the table, glancing around the room impatiently. You can't help but feel like there's something more going on with him than meets the eye.

All of a sudden he gets up from the table.

" I'm out, Val needs me at the studio, don't expect me back soon." And with that he's gone, you look back at Charlie and Vaggie, they continue eating in silence, like this is something normal for them.

You decide to ask them about it, "So, is it like that with Angel often? Him just leaving like that?"

Vaggie shrugs. "Yeah, he comes and goes as he pleases. Sometimes he'll be gone for days at a time, and then he'll just show up out of nowhere. We've learned not to ask too many questions about it."

Charlie nods in agreement. "He's got his own thing going on, you know? Whatever it is, he seems to need it. I guess we're just happy to have him here when he feels like being around."

You nod, understanding a bit more about the situation now. It's obvious that Angel isn't like the rest of them, and that he has a life outside of the house. Despite his aloofness, they all seem to care for him in their own way.

The rest of the meal passes by in a comfortable silence, with Vaggie and Charlie occasionally exchanging stories about their past adventures. As the plates are cleared away, you feel a sense of friendship forming between the three of you. It's nice to have found a place where you belong, even if it's not under the best of circumstances.

As the day wears on, you all retire to the living room to watch a movie. Vaggie curls up on the couch with her favorite pillow, while Charlie sprawls out on the floor, propped up on her elbows. You take a seat in between them, enjoying the familiarity of the situation.

" I have an idea, we should all go shopping tomorrow, you need some new clothes and stuff, it'd be fun, I promise " she says with hopeful eyes looking at you.

You smile at her, "That sounds like fun, actually. I've never really been shopping with friends before. But where would we go? And I don't have any money."

Charlie perks up at your words. "Don't worry about money, we've got plenty to spare. As for where we'll go, we could try at the mall. It's not far, and there's a bunch of different stores there. We can find something for you, don't worry."

You nod, feeling a little more at ease about the whole situation. You've never really been to a mall before, but you're sure you'll figure it out. The thought of spending the day shopping with Vaggie and Charlie makes you feel a bit giddy inside. It's nice to have friends to do things with, even if they are a bit unconventional.

You stare at the tv, not watching the movie, but lost in your own mind. You've surprised yourself with how fast you accepted the fact that you died and that you're in hell, it's not like yourself to go with the flow so carelessly, you know yourself, you like things to be calculated and organized, just like yourself, and yet, here you are, watching a movie with two demon girls like you've done this a million times before. It's a strange feeling, some part of you can't help but feel like you actually belong here, as fuckt up as it might be, you belong in hell, might as well go with the flow.

"Hey, are you ok?" Vaggie asks, nudging you with her elbow.

You blink, coming back to reality. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about stuff, you know?"

Vaggie nods understandingly. "Yeah, we all do that sometimes. It's okay to have those moments."

You offer her an appreciative nod.

Before you know it, the movie ends, you take this as an opportunity to visit the library of the hotel. Standing up you excuse yourself and make your way across the hotel towards the beautifully carved doors which guard the seemingly endless amount of books.

The library is as impressive as you remember it from your previous visit, rows upon rows of leather-bound books lining the walls, with tall glass windows letting in streams of soft, golden light. A spiral staircase leads up to a mezzanine level where more books are stacked haphazardly on shelves and precarious-looking ladders.

Maybe you could find something to help you out with knowing more about your powers.

You begin to wander the aisles, browsing through the titles, your fingers trailing along the spines of the books. The scent of old paper and leather fills your nostrils, making you feel a strange mixture of nostalgia and excitement. After a while, you stumble upon a section labeled "History of Hell"

The first book that catches your eye, it's titled " Politics of Hell : Overlords"

You pick it up and flip through the pages, finding sections on the various factions and hierarchies within Hell, as well as the history of power struggles between them. There are also sections on notable individuals who have risen to prominence, either through conquest or political maneuvering.

As you continue to read, you learn about the various types of demons and their respective roles within this complex social structure. Some are born into positions of power, while others must fight their way up through the ranks. You discover that the demon realm is not as cutthroat as you might have expected, as alliances and treaties are commonplace, and betrayals often come with dire consequences.

Putting the book down, you look around for something that could be more helpful.

Spotting a book on the history of demons, you decide to give it a read. This book provides an in-depth look at the various species of demons that inhabit Hell, their unique abilities, and their origins. It also covers their interactions with other supernatural beings, such as hellhounds and imps. As you flip through the pages, you come across a section on succubi and incubi, the demons responsible for feeding off human energy.

You learn that succubi and incubi are not just sexual predators, but also powerful forces in the underworld. They are often sought after by overlords for their influence over mortals, as well as their abilities to manipulate emotions and desires. In addition, their connection to the male and female energies makes them valuable allies in the constant struggle for power within Hell.

Interesting, bun not helpful, you put the book back.

If only you'd find a book that would tell you how to control your powers... Before you can even process it, a book hits you right in the head.

" Who the fuck?" As you turn around, you are greeted by the same shadowy appendages as before, they sway and swish around, seemingly amused.

"Did you do that?" You say pointing at it with narrowed eyes. They slither slowly towards your legs and wrap themselves around the book that hit you. You pick it up and read the cover. " Powers of the Umbras"

"You want me to read this?"

The shadowy tendrils sway again, as if to say yes. Curiosity getting the better of you, you open the book and begin to read.

The book is divided into several sections, each focusing on a different aspect of the umbras, or shadows, that make up the fabric of existence. You learn that umbras are not just passive byproducts of light, but rather possess their own intelligence and will. They can be manipulated by powerful beings, such as demons or sorcerers, and can even be given form and substance. They are a hellborn of sorts, when a mortal soul dies in hell, some part of them remains as a fragment of them and reborns as a shadow, while it's consciousness gets trapped in an eternal void of darkness. It says here, that umbras choose the person they get binded to based on one's true emotions and desires, most common being vengeance and power, they offer their powers in exchange for living as a person's shadow,, sharing thoughts and emotions.

"With umbras being technically hellborn, they can bind only to other hellborns, then how the fuck do i have them?" You think autloud. As you continue to read, you find your answer, a mortal soul can only properly bind with an umbra if the sins committed on earth were enough to amount to the sins of an umbras predecessor.

On the next page is explained how to increase the power of an umbra.

The more power you give it, the more potent its abilities become. There are two ways to increase an umbra's strength, owning souls and offering sacrifices.

Owning souls is simple; the more souls you have bound to you, the more power the umbra gains.

You can also offer sacrifices to increase the umbra's strength. The most effective sacrifices are those that are meaningful to you, as they are more likely to be accepted by the umbra. Blood sacrifices are common, but the book also suggests that offering up something that the umbra desired in life can be just as powerful. It is important to communicate with your umbra and understand its desires before making any sacrifices.

"You want a sacrifice?" You ask the umbra.

The shadowy tendrils sway in acknowledgement. You close your eyes and focus on your breath, trying to sense the umbra's desires. After a moment, you feel a sudden craving for ... Chicken nuggets? Is this thing for fucking real?. You open your eyes and look at it.

" Chicken nuggets?"

The umbra seems amused. It slithers closer, wrapping its tendrils around your hand, guiding you towards the door. You hope you'll find some in the kitchen . The shadow leads you through the darkened halls, occasionally brushing against walls and floor as if it's solid, until you reach the kitchen. The dim light of a single candle flickers on the counter, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The umbra lets go of your hand and hovers near the stove, impatiently.

You open the fridge and dig through the freezer. There's a half-empty bag of frozen chicken nuggets, looking just as unappetizing as ever. You take them out and place them on the counter. The umbra floats over to the nuggets, and as if sensing their proximity, it pulses with energy. It seems satisfied, and as you watch, the nuggets begin to glow with a faint blue light. The tendrils that make up the umbra twist and writhe, forming a crude hand that reaches out and plucks one of the nuggets from the counter. The light grows brighter as it consumes the nugget, and you feel a surge of power flow through you. Never in a million years did you think that you'd be feeding frozen chicken nuggets to an entity made out of smoke and shadows to make it more powerful.

The umbra's strength grows, and so does your own. You feel the weight of its presence lessen, and you're able to breathe easier. You wonder what other strange desires it might have, and if you'll be forced to go on similar errands in the future. For now, though, you're content to let the umbra enjoy its meal.

As the last nugget disappears, the shadowy tendrils pulse one final time, and the light fades from its form. It hovers back next to you, seemingly content and rested. You feel a new sense of connection with the umbra, as if it has finally accepted you as its master. You're still not entirely sure what to make of this entire situation, but you're beginning to think that having an umbra bound to you might not be such a bad thing after all.

While you're still in the kitchen, you should get started on dinner, maybe some mashed potatoes with gravy and chicken thighs, some vegetables on the side? That's good enough.

The umbra floats quietly beside you as you cook, occasionally reaching out to adjust the heat or stir the pot. It seems to be enjoying this domesticated side of your life. As you work, you try to control it little by little, apparently if you want it to do something, you just need to think about it, it's a big help in the kitchen. While you chop vegetables, umbra seasons the chicken, it's quite nice.

With dinner done, and the table set thanks to umbra, you make your way towards Vaggie's and Charlie's room, knocking on the door you tell them that dinner is ready, so you make your way back down to the dining room.

The two of them emerge from their room, looking much more refreshed than they did earlier. Charlie glances at you briefly before hurrying over to the table, her eyes lighting up when she sees the food. Vaggie follows more slowly, casting a wary glance in the umbra's direction before taking a seat. You exchange a knowing smile with the shadowy creature as you watch them interact.

As you all sit down to eat, there's a comfortable silence that falls over the room. Charlie digs in with gusto, praising your cooking and complimenting the umbra on its help in the kitchen. Vaggie, on the other hand, seems more reserved, picking at his food and occasionally shooting curious glances at the umbra.

After everyone has eaten their fill, you clear the table and retire to the living room. The umbra floats behind you, its tendrils swirling lazily as it takes in the warmth of the fireplace. You settle down on the couch, Vaggie perching herself on the armrest, and Charlie curls up on the rug with a book. The television is on, but no one seems to be paying much attention to it.

You wonder... Looking over at umbra, you should find a way to hide it, if you go out with the girls tomorrow it would probably draw too much attention to you.

You imagine it wrapping up your arm, turning itself into a tattoo, and fortunately that's exactly what happens.

Now, with the umbra hidden, you can focus on enjoying your evening with your friends. The three of you chat about your days, exchange stories, and laugh together. The umbra watches over you from its place on your arm, content to observe the interactions between the three of them. It seems to be gaining a better understanding of this experience, and you're glad to have it there as a sort of silent guardian.

[ddesguv]

Chapter 4

You feel like you are trapped in darkness for what feels like years yet second, months yet days, it's a strange feeling, not floating yet not sitting, it's all overwhelming and soothing at the same time, you can't help to wonder if this is what death is, being trapped like this for eternity?

Or is this hell?

A subtle feeling washes over you, like you are wrapped in silk and being pulled down, it intensifies with each passing second, like you are falling with the speed of light.

You keep falling and falling and falling for what feels like an eternity, only to realize you aren't falling anymore.

You can feel gravel under your hands, clammy sweat across your body and a nice warmth in the air.

Blinking slowly, you take in your surroundings.

The first thing you see is a shitton of red, is that the fucking sky? With a pentagram? Ok, no need to panic, maybe you're just seeing things, there's a reasonable explanation for everything.

You try to move your hands, they respond sluggishly, as if they are weighted down, but they move nonetheless. You sit up slowly, taking in more of your surroundings.

You are sitting in what seems to be a crater?

There's not much going on around, to your right is some kind of advertising sign, some rubble and ruins of buildings, to your left a city in the distance. The question is how the fuck you ended up here, last thing you remember is being in the forest, what were you doing in the forest? Were you alone? No, there were 6 other people, what happened to them? Gunshots, blood, pain, fading in and out of consciousness. It hits you then. You died. How can you be dead if you're fine an breathing right now? It doesn't make any sense. You take a look at your hands.

" WhaT THE ACTUAL FUCK"

" No, no no nonono "

" This is just a bad dream, I'm hallucinating, that must be it"

Your hands, don't look like yours at all, they're a burgundy color that fades to black at the fingertips, and to your normal skin tone towards the elbows, although, even your skin tone seem to be off, it's more pale, like life drained from your body, and your nails, they're way longer and sharper than your natural ones.

You stand up, feeling more awake now, but still not quite yourself, and start walking towards the city in the distance, maybe someone there will be able to help you, tell you what the fuck is going on. You turn your head, taking a look at the publicity sign

                   

                         " NEW TO HELL ?

             WANT TO GET REDEMPTION

                  AND GO TO HEAVEN?

   COME BY OUR HAPPY HAZBIN HOTEL!

         FREE FOOD AND ACCOMODATIONS

       As long as you actually try to be good "

As you walk, you pas by buildings that seem to be in different stages of ruin, yet not a single person in sight. The air feels thick and heavy, as if it's been soaked in blood and tears. The sound of distant screams and cries pierce through the silence, making your skin crawl.

Maybe this is really hell.

You take another look at the sky, blood red , the pentagram above seeming to glow, something catches your eye, a bird? Too big to be a bird, the fuck is that? Why is it getting bigger? Then it dawns on you, it's getting bigger because it's coming towards you.

In that moment you haul ass the fuck out of there, not wanting to find out what that thing is.

You run through the city, weaving in and out of the ruins, the thing behind you getting closer, its shape becoming more distinct. It's humanoid, but that's where the resemblance to anything living ends. Its skin is grey, and the wings black and white, on top of it's head a set of ram horns, and it's face is adorned with a grin of sharp teeth, instead of a right eye it has an x, worst of all it has a fucking spear.

You run, your lungs burning, your legs screaming in protest, but you can't stop, it's gaining on you. You take a sharp turn, ducking into an alley, praying it's not a dead end. The thing slams into the wall behind you, knocking bricks and dust to the ground. It turns around, a sinister grin spreading across its face.

"Go on, keep running," it says, its voice raspy and cold. "But you can't outrun me."

It takes off after you, flying through the alley with ease. You try to keep your distance, but it's relentless. The chase seems to go on for hours, taking you through the city, across fields of charred earth.The monster never tires, never slows down, its grin growing wider and more malicious with each passing second. This truly is hell, everywhere you look demons alike the one following you, kill and torture other demons , at least that's what you think they are, there's carnage everywhere, guts, blood and bones paint the streets of the city.

You're losing hope fast, you can't take much more of this, you feel like you're about to pass out from exhaustion, but then you spot it, a small building, it's not ruined, it's almost intact. You push yourself to run faster, your lungs burning, your legs on fire, but you can't stop now, it's your only chance.

The demon behind you gains on you, its wings beating the air as it flies closer, its breath hot on the back of your neck. You reach the building, slamming your body against the door, the pain shooting through your already aching body. The door flies open, revealing a dimly lit room with a few figures huddled in the corner.

You don't have time to say anything as you feel the demons presence right behind you, a primal instinct hits you like a truck, you jump to the right jus as it's spear smashes right where you were standing.

" Trapped, like a mouse, I'll have fun erasing you and your little friends"

It circles around, spear at the ready, its grin becoming wider. The other figures in the room, upon seeing the demon, start to panic, some crying, others trying to find a way out.

Fuck, fuck , fuck, FUCK!

If only you had something to fuck up this bitch up with, can you even kill it?

If you could at least immobilize it, as that thought crosses your mind, smoke like shadows bolt from under you, straight to the spear wielding demon and catch it's arms and legs, raising it from the ground and pinning it to the ceiling. Holly shit! Did you do that? No time to think about that, you turn to the others.

" The fuck y'all waiting for, run" And you do just that.

You sprint trough the open door, not looking back, hoping they'll follow. You run and run and run, your lungs burning, your legs on fire, your heart pounding so hard you're sure it's gonna leap out of your chest. You keep running, not sure where you're going, just anywhere, darting trough the streets of the city. You spot a narrow alleyway and make your way trough it, at the end of it it's a door, As quiet as possible you try to open it, the moment you do so, you are yanked inside and pinned to a wall, the only thing in your mind is to get whatever ting is holding you in place, away from you, and just like that, smoky tendrils wrap around yourself and your captor.

" Ey, ey ,ey , now, it ain't nice to fuck up someone's hiding place , AND attack them"

You turn around and take a look at the person? Demon? Spider?

" You're the one who had me against the wall!"

"I thought you were one of them exorcist freaks"

" A what now?"

" How about ya put me down and I'll explain shit to you? What'd ya' say toots?"

" How do I know you won't kill me?"

" Honey, my outfit ain't worth your life to cover it in blood "

" ... Alright, no sketchy bullshit tho!"

"Fine, fine now put me down!"

You carefully let go of the smoke tendrils and watch the spider looking demon land on the ground, looking annoyed.

" Aight, names Angel Dust, don't forget it, you seem new to hell" he says as he shakes the dust from his body with his 4 arms?

" To what now?!" This is not happening

" Hell, h-e-l-l, you stupid or something? Don't answer, anyway, how long ago did you drop?" The spider, Angel Dust, says while placing a pair of arms on his hips and crossing the other.

" An hour ago? Less, I think?"

" Holy fucking shit, right on extermination day, your lucky to be alive kid."

" What the fuck is the extermination, and exterminators?"

" Once a year, angels come from heaven and kill demons, so it doesn't get crowded or some shit" He checks his nails, like this is something normal.

" Those things are angels? What the actual FUCK"

"Don't worry about it, just stay hidden and you'll be fine"

" What happens after? " You say as you slide with your back down the wall and placing your hands on your head. What surprises you is the soft texture and the feeling of your fingers of some sort of extremities on your head.

" Survive, that's all you can do, down ' ere it's everyone for itself "

"So I'm just supposed to stay here and hope that I won't be found?"

"No, you should find yourself a good hideout, a place to call your own, you know, start a new life."

"And what if I don't want to live in hell?"

Angel Dust rolls his eyes. "Don't be such a fucking baby. You'll learn to live with it, trust me. "

You take one more look at him, trying to say something, but nothing comes out.

"Look, kid, you can't just expect everything to be handed to you on a silver platter, you gotta make your own way in this world, you understand?"

You nod, not sure if you do understand.

A few moments of silence pass, those being interrupted be the sound of explosions?

" Thank fuck, alright kid, it was nice meeting ya', but I got better shit to do, and get done~ if you catch my drift."

" You're going out there?!"

" Relax, extermination's over, the fireworks go off after the fuckers leave."

" What do I do now?"

He just stares at you, you feel quite uncomfortable now.

With a roll of his eyes he lets out an exasperated sigh.

" UGHH, fine , I'll help you this time, and this time only, just because you look more pathetic then a newborn deer, actually I might just call you Bambi."

" Please don't"

" Too late, c'mon now, after me Bambi"

You slowly follow him, wondering what the hell is going on. He leads you through the winding streets, deeper into the hellish city.

You know that trusting someone so blindly is pure stupidity, but what else can you do? He's (?) your best chance at survival in this moment.

As you walk, you can't help but notice how everything around you feels... alive. Like the very air is made of something more substantial than mere gas. It's as if the very essence of evil itself is flowing through the veins of this place. It's not unpleasant, per se, but it's certainly unsettling.

The streets are lined with buildings that seem to have been constructed from a twisted mix of metal and stone. Fires rage in the distance, casting an eerie glow over everything. The sky is a permanent shade of red, like looking directly at the heart of a burning ember.

Angel Dust leads you through the city, his spider-like body easily maneuvering through the throng of demons and beasts that litter the streets. You can't help but feel a sense of awe, and perhaps even fear, as you take in your surroundings. This place is like nothing you've ever imagined. It looks just like earth, but with a lot more violence involved.

The further you go, the more you begin to notice small details that make this world feel so alive. The way the demons move, the way they talk, even the way they breathe, it's all so fucking real.

The buildings you pass by seem to be a mix of modern and ancient architecture, with some structures towering over you like monoliths while others crumble into rubble at your feet. The air smells of sulfur and burning flesh, a cacophony of sounds assaulting your senses at all times.

" Almost there toots!"

You look over at Angel Dust, a small smirk on his lips. You can't help but wonder what he means by that.

As you continue to follow him, you notice that the buildings seem to get larger and more elaborate the further you go. There's a strange mix of cultures here; some structures look like they belong in a medieval European city, while others have an Asian flair to them. The air becomes cleaner and less noisy as you enter what appears to be a more affluent part of the city.

"What kind of place is this?" you ask, pointing to a particularly ornate building with its grand archways and intricate carvings.

" Sex dungeon, BDSM shop, sex toy shop, apparently they're not the same thing, and an underwear shop"

You blush furiously. "I meant like... the city in general?"

He shrugs. "It's the hub of it all, kid. This is where the big shots come to play, make deals, and fuck each other over. It's a messy place, but it's where the real power lies. This is Pentagram City, we're currently in the Magne district."

The Magne district is a bustling area of the city, filled with grand buildings and winding streets. People of all shapes and sizes walk by, some dressed in extravagant robes and others in more casual attire. The air here smells cleaner and less noxious than in the lower levels, and there's a sense of wealth and influence that permeates everything.

" Look ova' there, ya see that building on the hill? That's where we going, it's a hotel for sinners to " get clean" and " get redeemed" it's a load of bullshit if you ask me."

" Why are you staying then?"

" Free food and a free bed to sleep in."

"Oh, is that the happy hotel or whatever it's called? I saw a sign with it right when I woke up."

" Exactly "

As you continue walking, you can't help but marvel at the sheer scale of some of the buildings here. There are towers that seem to scrape the very heavens, their spires piercing the red sky like fingers reaching for something more. Alcoves and balconies jut out from the sides of the structures, adorned with intricate statues and colorful tapestries. The streets are bustling with activity; merchants hawking their wares, beggars pleading for coin, and the occasional demon or beast lurking in the shadows.

The hotel they're approaching now stands atop a hill, its facade a testament to the excess and opulence that seems to define this city. A cobble path winds up to the entrance. The doors are massive, carved from solid ebony and inlaid with gold and stained glass.

Angel Dust grins as he approaches the doors. "This is it, kid. The Happy Hotel. Or, as I like to call it, the Fucked Up Funhouse." He clears his throat and raps sharply on the doors, which swing open with a creak.

Honestly, you expected it to look better, but, it's hell, so, it izz what it izz.

The lobby is adorned with red and gold accents, the walls are a blood red with golden frames, and the dust is quite pilled up on the little bit of furniture scattered around the place.

" Oh , mY GOSH" A girl's voice carries trough the room, you look from where the sound came from, and honestly, she's pretty, with rosy cheeks, milky skin and blonde hair, she's wearing a red suit that fits her quite nicely.

" HI, WELCOME TO THE HAPPY HOTEL"

You can't even get a word out over her excitement.

" MY NAME IS CHARLIE, IT'S SO NICE TO MEET YOU, PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE HERE TO GET REDEEMED!" She practically yells at you with hopeful eyes.

You can't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm. "Uh, hi, Charlie. Yeah, I think so, I guess."

Angel Dust snorts. "Yeah, kid, we're all here for the same thing. But don't expect to find your way out of here anytime soon."

Charlie frowns at him. " Angel, you know that's not true. Everyone in hell is different, and we're here to help them find their way, no matter how long it takes." She turns back to you with a reassuring smile. "Don't you worry. You're in good hands. Oh, I almost forgot, this is Vaggie" se says while gesturing to a demon girl with long silver hair and greyish skin. She offers you a somewhat awkward wave and smile.

" Hi" you say while offering her your name and the same pleasantries.

"This is amazing, you are our second patron, the hotel's going to be full in no time"

" Hun, let's not get ahead of ourselves too fast, yeah" says Vaggie, trying to calm down an excited Charlie.

" I know, I know, it's just... I'm really excited for this thing to work out"

" It will sweetie, you just need to be a little patient about it"

As the two girls are talking, you can't help but space out, trying to understand what is currently happening, your eyes moving around the lobby, taking in all the details.

The lobby itself is spacious, with a high ceiling and a grand staircase leading to the upper floors. The air smells of incense and something fruity, making it not entirely unpleasant. The walls are adorned with paintings of demons interacting in various ways, some playful, some violent. There's a fireplace on one wall, its mantelpiece crowded with candles and trinkets, a sofa that's quite creepy looking.

From a few feet away, Angel's eyes are locked on you, he can't help noticing your discomfort, heaven knows the first day in hell is shit, his was the same.

" Hey, uh, Charlie?" He says, placing one of his arms on your shoulder.

"Why don't ya show our new guest to her room?"

Charlie turns around, and for a brief moment, her expression softens, and she looks almost apologetic. "Right, of course. Follow me, please."

As you make your way up the stairs, your eyes are set on Charlie's back, lost in thought, almost missing the question addressed to you.

" Are you alright?"

"Huh?"

" I asked how long have you been in hell for" she says turning around to offer you a friendly smile.

" A few hours now..."

" Oh, wow, your first day on extermination day, I can't even imagine what you went through, but don't worry, you are safe here, and if you have any questions let me know!"

"Thank you, I appreciate it, but for now I'd like to be alone."

"Of course, il pass by later, to get you some dinner, you must be exhausted."

She then turns around, leading you through the halls of the hotel ,past various doors and demonic decorations, until you finally reach a room at the end of the hallway. The door is painted a deep red, with a large, ornate lock adorning its center. Charlie inserts a key into the lock and twists it, before pushing the door open and stepping aside, allowing you to enter.

The room is surprisingly cozy and well-lit, with soft carpeting on the floor and a comfortable-looking bed in the corner. There's a large mirror hanging on the wall opposite the bed, and various pieces of furniture scattered about the room. A small writing desk sits near the window, with a quill and parchment laid out on its surface, inviting you to write if you so choose. The overall atmosphere is strangely calming, almost welcoming, in spite of the sinister surroundings.

Charlie closes the door behind her, giving you some privacy before turning to leave. "Well, here you are. If you need anything, just shout. I'm just down the hall." Her voice is soft and reassuring, but you can't help but feel a strange sense of unease as you watch her retreat back down the hallway.

Alone in the room, you take a deep breath and slowly begin to explore your surroundings. The soft carpet feels luxurious underfoot, and the bed looks incredibly inviting. But it's the mirror that draws your attention the most. You approach it cautiously, like it's some sort of strange, forbidden object. You can't help but wonder what you must look like now, as a demon.

Tentatively, you reach out and touch the mirror's frame, feeling its cold, hard surface beneath your fingertips. When you look into the reflection, it takes a moment for you to recognize your own face. Your skin is pale and ashen, your eyes a piercing shade of crimson. Your hair, is now tainted with hints of red and black, on the top of your head a pair of ears?. You look... strange. It's a stark contrast to the image you had of yourself before your death.

The room feels stuffy, and you find yourself struggling to breathe. You pace back and forth, trying to process the reality of your situation. It's hard to believe that this is hell, and that you're now a demon. It all seems so surreal, like some twisted dream from which you can't wake up. You can't help but wonder what happened to your life, your loved ones. Did anyone even notice that you were gone?

The mirror mocks you, reflecting your new demonic form back at you. You turn away from it, disgusted by the sight. You feel trapped, like you're stuck in some sort of twisted limbo. You wish you could just wake up from this nightmare, but you know deep down that this is your reality now.

You pace around the room, your heart racing, your thoughts a jumble of confusion and despair. The weight of your new existence presses down on you, making it difficult to breathe. You collapse onto the bed, burying your face in the soft pillow, trying to block out the world around you.

But the world won't leave you alone. Footsteps approach the door, and you hear Charlie's voice again, calling your name. You force yourself to sit up, wiping away the tears that have gathered in your demonic eyes. She enters the room, carrying a tray laden with food.

"Ah, you're awake! I brought you some dinner. I hope you're hungry!" She says cheerfully, her voice almost too chipper for the circumstances. You nod, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and anger towards her.

Charlie sets the tray down on the writing desk, revealing a selection of food that is both familiar and disturbing. There's steaming hot soup in a delicate china bowl, accompanied by fresh bread and butter. Next to that is a plate of grilled chicken and vegetables, drizzled with a tangy sauce. And finally, a small dish of sweet, sticky treats that you can't quite identify. You can't help but feel repulsed by the food, but at the same time, your stomach growls in anticipation.

"Go ahead and dig in," Charlie encourages you. "You've got quite the appetite as a demon, I must say. Enjoy!" With a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, she turns and leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind her. You're left alone with your thoughts and the food, struggling to reconcile the pleasant aromas with the horror of your new existence.

You reach for the soup first, the rich scent filling your nostrils. It's delicious, warming your insides as it goes down. The chicken and vegetables are equally as good, their tangy sauce coating your tongue. You force yourself to slow down, knowing that you'll feel sick if you eat too much too quickly. As you eat, you can't help but wonder how much longer you'll be stuck here.

With your meal finished, you try to pull yourself together, taking another look around the room, the at yourself in the mirror, as you get another look at yourself you can't help but notice that you are extremely dirty, are there showers in hell? You hope so, without a single thought you make your way towards the other door across the room, you are pleasantly surprised to see that it a bathroom.You hurry inside, locking the door behind you and turn on the faucet, relieved to find that the water flows freely from it. You strip off your dirty clothes, revealing your demonic form, your legs, just like your arms have the same ombre effect, from your skin tone blending into burgundy then black towards your toes, you step into the steaming bath, letting out a sigh of relief as the warm water envelops you.

As you soak, you begin to feel cleaner, almost human again. You close your eyes, trying to ignore the reflection in the mirror above the sink. It's impossible, though. No matter where you look, you see those eyes, those claws, that tail. You wonder if you'll ever be able to look at yourself and see anything else.

With a sigh, you step out of the bath, drying yourself off with a soft towel. The bathroom is small but well-appointed, with a variety of toiletries laid out on the vanity. You experiment with some of the unfamiliar products, marveling at their effectiveness on your demonic skin.

As you emerge from the bathroom, you see that the bed has been remade while you were bathing. It's covered in fresh sheets and a soft, fluffy duvet.

"I thought you might like something more comfortable to sleep in," says Charlie, appearing in the doorway. "I hope that's alright."

She's wearing a plain white nightgown, her hair loose around her shoulders. You can't help but notice that she looks nervous, her hands twisting in her lap"You... you didn't have to do that," you manage to say, your voice sounding distant even to your own ears.

"Oh, it was no trouble," she replies, her voice thin. "I just thought... well, it seemed like the least I could do, you know?"

There's an uncomfortable silence as she continues to fidget, her eyes darting away from you. You want to say something to make her feel better, to thank her for being kind to you, but the words stick in your throat. Instead, you look away, focusing on the richly patterned carpet beneath your feet.

After a moment, she clears her throat. "Well, if there's anything else you need or want, just let me know. I'm here to help." Her voice is still strained, but there's a note of determination in it now. "I know this must be difficult for you."

You nod, unable to meet her gaze. "Thank you," you manage to say. "It's... it's more than I could have hoped for." The truth is, you have no idea what you want or need anymore. All you know is that you're trapped in this unfamiliar body, in this strange place, with no hope of ever returning to your old life.

Charlie hesitates for a moment, then takes a step forward, as if she's about to say something else. But whatever it is, she seems to think better of it and remains silent. After a long moment, she turns and leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

You lie down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the pain in your heart. The room feels oppressively quiet, the air thick with the weight of your despair. You wish you could sleep, but exhaustion is a stranger to you now. Instead, you find yourself tossing and turning, memories of your old life flooding your mind like a torrent.

It's not like you regret killing those scumbags, it's just, you wished you had more time on earth.

You get up from the bed, pacing restlessly around the room. The only thing that brings you any measure of comfort is the sight of the open window, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You wonder if it's always this cold outside, or if it's just your demonic body's reaction to the air.

Outside, what seems to serve as a moon hangs low in the sky, bathing the world in an ethereal glow. You can't help but feel a pang of longing as you gaze at it, remembering how often you would stare up at the moon as a human. You used to feel so connected to it, as if it were a part of you. Now, it's just another reminder of what you've lost.

The sound of crickets and other unfamiliar night creatures fill the air, creating a symphony of sorts. You wonder if they're as lonely as you feel, if they too are trapped in lives they never asked for. The thought makes you feel a twinge of sympathy for them, a connection to something beyond yourself.

You step closer to the window, leaning against the sill as you gaze out into the darkness. There's something about the endless expanse of night that speaks to you, a reminder that your troubles, your pain, are just a tiny speck in the grand scheme of things. It's both humbling and liberating at the same time.

You close your eyes, allowing the cool air to wash over your face, feeling the gentle caress of the breeze against your skin. Despite the chill, it's not an unpleasant sensation. In fact, it almost feels... comfortable. As if the night is embracing you, welcoming you into its fold.

You should probably get some rest, you'll think better with a clear head in the morning.

As you drift off to sleep, your thoughts turn to your old life, to the people you knew and the places you've been. It's bittersweet, like a dream within a dream. You wonder if they're thinking of you, if they're missing you as much as you miss them.

[ddesguv]

Coffee cup masterlist

Ao3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

[ddesguv]

Chapter 3

As the first rays of dawn creep through the window, casting an ethereal glow upon the countertops and stools of the quaint coffee shop, you can't help but marvel at the delicate balance of life and death that you navigate on a daily basis. The aroma of freshly ground beans and steamed milk fills the air, a heady mix that, to some, might represent the promise of a new day, of hope and possibility.

But you know better. You know that for every customer who strolls in, searching for a pick-me-up before facing the day's challenges, there's another soul out there who deserves to be erased from existence. And for now, Samuel is that soul. Sure, you need to plan it all out, that needs time, and considering that he lives in an apartment, that would be quite tricky, honestly if he lived in a secluded house like the last guy you killed, old Jim, it would have been much better.

You carefully consider your options as you pour steaming milk into a cup, watching the froth rise and dance on the surface. The rhythmic hiss of the steam wand fills the air, a soft counterpoint to the steady stream of patrons ordering their morning fix. You could play the victim this time, that would be fun, to give him the sense of power that he craves, only to lure him on some secluded alleyway and rip all his confidence and power from him as you shove your knife deep inside his guts, oh how marvelous he would look, eyes bulging in fear and surprise, trembling and pathetic, they all look the same, you can feel yourself smiling at the thought.

Sally, your newest coworker, always a curious one, asks what made you so happy today.

"Oh, it's nothing," you reply with a dismissive wave of your hand. "Just thinking about how I'll spend my next days off."

Sally's eyes light up at this. "Really? You're finally taking a break? You should! You've been working so hard lately."

"Yeah I spoke to the manager and asked for a few days off, but you know me," you reply with a dismissive laugh. "I can't even relax when I'm supposed to." Gotta murderer assholes and keep up with life, that part, you keep to yourself.

Sally tilts her head, clearly not quite buying your dismissal but deciding not to push the issue. "Well, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

"Thanks, Sally," you reply with a warm smile. "You're a real sweetheart."

As the morning passes, the coffee shop begins to fill up with a steady stream of customers, each one with their own story to tell, their own lives to lead. And in the midst of it all, you continue to plot and scheme, your mind a whirlwind of dark thoughts and cunning plans. It's all a dance, a delicate balance between precision and chaos, and you revel in the control it affords you.

Soon enough, it's time for your shift to end. You bid farewell to Sally and the other baristas, exchanging pleasantries and well-wishes as you prepare to leave. But before you go, you take one last look around the shop, mentally cataloging the faces of the patrons, committing them to memory. There's always another soul out there who deserves to pay for their sins, and you're more than willing to be their judge, jury, and executioner.

As you walk out the door, the cool evening air washes over you, revitalizing your senses. Your car sits idling at the curb, waiting to whisk you away to your next destination. Tonight, you'll need to scope out Samuel's apartment complex, find the perfect spot for the deed. You pull your dark, hooded sweatshirt up over your head, obscuring your features from any prying eyes that might happen to pass by.

Steering your car down the quiet residential street, you can't help but feel a thrill of anticipation course through you. The lights of Samuel's apartment complex come into view, and you slow down, taking in the layout of the buildings, the paths between them. It's going to be tricky, but you're up for the challenge.

You park your car a few blocks away, out of sight but still close enough for a quick getaway. Retrieving a small knife from your glove compartment, you check it over, feeling the cool steel against your skin. Satisfied with its weight and sharpness, you slide it into the pocket of your pants.

Treading lightly through the shadows, you make your way towards Samuel's apartment complex. The buildings loom above you, a testament to the power and wealth of those who live within them. But to you, they are merely structures, nothing more than obstacles to be overcome.

As you near Samuel's building, you duck into a dark alleyway, out of sight of any potential witnesses. You pull your hood further forward, ensuring that your face remains hidden from view.

The alleyway is eerily quiet, the only sound the distant hum of traffic from the main road. The moon casts a pale glow over the  concrete, illuminating a syringe and a discarded cigarette butt. You shudder at the thought of what kind of lives these people lead, and how easily they throw away their own humanity.

It seems like luck is in your favor, only 36 minutes later, you see him, still drunk like last night, making his way to the building, even better he opens what looks to be a mailbox, first one on the third row, can't really see the number on it from where you are but at least now you know his apartment number, fuck yeah. Another 7 minutes pass as he tries to open the front door of the building, pushing instead of pulling, God he's such a fucking idiot. With him gone, u wait a little bit more and make your way to the mai boxes, number 10, that's his apartment.

As inconspicuous as possible, you make your way to the back of the building, surveying the fire escape stairs, you decide to do that for a while, paying close attention to the second floor of the building, after a few minutes, light flows from one of the many windows, you focus on it, bingo, it's him, you watch as he opens the window only to start vomiting all over the fire escape, disgusting, maybe that's enough for tonight, tomorrow morning you'll be here to see at what time he leaves, maybe you'll break in his apartment and find more about him.

You slink away from the apartment complex, back to your car, and make your way home. As you drive, you can't help but feel a sense of excitement coursing through you. Another soul marked for death, another life ended. It's not like you enjoy it, but it's a necessary evil. Before you even step inside your apartment, you know that sleep won't come easily tonight. Your mind is still racing with thoughts of your next target, and the one after that. The cycle continues, and you are but a small cog in a much larger machine.

You change out of your dirty clothes, shower quickly, and climb into bed. But even as your head hits the pillow, your eyes remain wide open. Your mind wanders back to the image of Samuel, retching on the fire escape. You can't help but wonder what kind of life he led, what demons he was trying to escape. In a way, you almost feel sorry for him. Almost. Because in the end, he was still a part of this world, and as such, he deserved what was coming to him.

You roll onto your side, staring at the wall. The moon casts a pale glow through your window, bathing the room in a cold, silvery light. You can't help but feel a sense of detachment from the world around you. It's as if you're just a spectator, watching events unfold from a safe distance, never truly involved. But you know that's not true. You are intimately connected to the lives you take, no matter how much you try to deny it.

The bed creaks as you shift once more, this time onto your back. Your gaze drifts up to the ceiling, lost in thought. You wonder if there is anyone in this world who could ever understand what it's like to be you. To live with the weight of all those deaths on your conscience. You doubt it. Most people would probably see you as a monster, a cold-blooded killer. And maybe they'd be right. But you tell yourself that it's necessary, that you're just a cog in a machine, doing what needs to be done. It's not like you do a job or something like that, you do this for yourself, and all the other good people who need to be safe from monsters like Sam and Jim and all the others.

You close your eyes, trying to push away the thoughts that are crowding your mind. Maybe if you just close your eyes and try to relax, sleep will come easier. But even as your eyelids grow heavy, your mind remains restless. It's as if your subconscious knows that there is no escape, no respite from the cycle. You are bound to this life, and there is no denying it.

The sheets twist around you, and you shift uncomfortably in bed. You can't help but wonder how many more nights like this you'll have to endure. It feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders, and with each passing day, it grows heavier.

You close your eyes, trying to focus on something, anything else. Your mind drifts back to your childhood, to the days when you were still innocent. When the world was a brighter place, and the only monsters that existed were in fairy tales. You wish you could go back to those times, to the time before you took on this burden.

But you can't. And even if you could, you wouldn't want to. Because you know that the world is not a safe place. There are monsters out there, and someone has to protect the innocent. You've seen the evidence with your own eyes, heard the testimonies, seen the crime scenes. You can't unsee any of it.

As you toss and turn in bed, you find yourself thinking about the first time you took a life. It was a man named Jack,  your old neighbor from when you lived with your parents, he was a disgusting creep, and worst of all, his 2 daughters were the ones to suffer from it.

The police had been called a dozen times, but there was never enough evidence. Your parents had tried to help, but they were powerless against the man's influence. And then, one night, you found them. The two girls, huddled together on the front porch, tears streaming down their faces, their tiny bodies bruised and broken. You could see the fear in their eyes, the desperation. And in that moment, you knew you had to do something.

Your father and Jack had one thing in common, they both enjoyed hunting for deer in the woods near your small hometown, you waited until the next hunting season to make your move. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, Jack was already loading his gear in his truck, ready to leave, and you did the same, sneaking into the garage and snatching your father's rifle and throwing it in your old car, you gave your parents some bullshit excuse about meeting with some friends, and after him you went, keeping your distance of course.

You shot him dead in the same woods he liked to hunt, now with him being the prey, honestly you have no idea how you got away with it.

The police never suspected a thing, and the two girls were finally safe. But you knew that the weight you carried on your shoulders would never truly go away. You couldn't help but wonder if they ever knew what you had done. Maybe they suspected, but they never said anything. And so, you continued. Because you had to. Because the world was a dangerous place, and someone had to protect the innocent.

Years passed, and you honed your skills. You became efficient, calculating. You learned how to blend in, how to avoid detection. You took down more monsters than you could count. But with each passing kill, the guilt grew heavier. It became a constant companion, a shadow that followed you everywhere.

As the weeks went by, you finally had enough info on Sam, this night, he has plans to exchange some money for drugs, and fortunately the exchange is gonna be made in near the outskirts of the city, in a forest that's rarely visited by people on daytime, let alone at night.

You arrive at the meeting spot, your heart pounding in your chest as you keep a low profile, hiding in the shadows, watching and waiting. The  time passes slowly, and you begin to think that you are in the wrong place. But then, you see him. He emerges from the darkness, a satchel slung over his shoulder. His accomplices, two men just as vile as he is, trail behind him. You steel yourself, taking a deep breath as they approach the rendezvous point. This isn't good, he was supposed to be alone, how the fuck are you gonna take on 3 grown ass men by yourself, you have the advantage of the first shot, but that still lives 2, possibly armed, men to take care of, and if you pull the trigger first it would be a dead giveaway of your location. Fuck this bullshit, you'll wait for them to leave, then get the hell home, you'll have another chance.

You wait between the bushes, minutes later you see other 3 people arrived at the meeting spot, one of them, the tallest one, has a bald head full of tattoos,most definitely the boss of the ones with the drugs. They nod their heads at each other, you listen close on their conversation.

"You got the money?" One of them whispers.

"Yeah, here it is." Sam replies as he hand them over.

The bald one turns to the man on his right, and with a nod of his head tells him to count the money.

" It's all there man, we ain't got time for that shit" Sam says a little bit rushed.

"Shut up and step back" the bald one says coldly. The man next to him carefully counts the money and then shakes his head.

" You short on 500 cash "

Sam's face turns pale. "I-I must've made a mistake."

" You think you can cheap out on my shit fool?" The boss says, clearly angry as he pulls out a gun aimed at Sam's head.

Before you know it, him and his friends do the same, point guns at the other ones.

Things happened so fast, you hear yelling, shots being fired, and an aching pain in your chest. You've been hit by a stray bullet.

You fall to the ground, clutching your wound, blood pouring from it. The world around you spins, and you feel like you're floating. You can hear shouting and more gunfire, but it's all becoming distant. Your vision begins to fade, and you feel yourself slipping away.

[ddesguv]

Chapter 2

Finally at home after today's fiasco, you take off your shoes and throw them together with the dirty laundry. Next on the list is a glass of bourbon and a hella hot shower, digging graves is no joke, your poor body deserves a break. You pad over to your bathroom, still wearing your work attire and flip the switch. The dim light flickers on, revealing the chipped paint and water stains that have been there since you moved in. You sigh and grab a towel, hanging it neatly on the rack before opening the medicine cabinet. Inside, you keep a few essential items: toothpaste, toothbrush, some antacids, and a bottle of ibuprofen. You reach for the ibuprofen, popping two pills into your mouth and chasing them down with some tap water. Now, the bourbon. You pour yourself a generous glass and take a long, satisfying sip, letting the warmth spread through your body.

The hot water finally beckons you, and you step into the shower, wincing as the warm water hits your sore muscles. You stand under the stream for a while, letting the water wash away the dirt and grime from the day. You reach for the soap and start scrubbing, taking your time to clean every inch of your skin. As you stand there your thoughts wonder on to poor dead Jim, if only he wasn't such a piece of shit maybe he would still be alive, no use pondering on what could have been now, it is what it is. You finish up quickly, towel drying yourself off and throwing on an old, worn out pair of sweatpants.

With your bathroom business taken care of, you pad over to your bed and collapse onto the soft mattress, staring up at the ceiling. Your mind drifts to the usual, the meaningless banter of human existence, the absurdity of it all. You close your eyes and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

Your tiny apartment is silent save for the faint hum of the refrigerator down the hall. It's comforting in a way, the silence. It's a reminder that even in the midst of all this chaos, there are moments of peace. You reach over and turn off the lamp on your nightstand, plunging the room into darkness. You curl up under the covers, feeling the familiar warmth of your bed envelop you. Thank fuck tomorrow is your day off from work.

You wonder what the hell you're going to do with yourself. Maybe go to the park, read a book, catch up on some much-needed sleep. Or maybe you'll just sleep in and wake up at the crack of noon, watching reruns of your favorite show and eating ice cream straight out of the carton. The thought makes you chuckle softly.

You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside your window, the warm rays of the sun casting a soft glow across your messy bedroom, and you can't help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment just by existing. You stretch your arms above your head, yawn expansively, and roll out of bed. The floor is cold against your bare feet, but it's a welcome sensation after the oppressive heat of the sheets. You pad over to the window, leaning against the sill as you watch the world outside begin to stir.

The neighborhood looks peaceful, as if everyone's taking the day to catch up on sleep or enjoy their leisure time. You spot a few people out for walks with their dogs, others sitting on their porches drinking coffee or reading the paper. It's a familiar scene, one you've seen a thousand times before, but there's something comforting about it. It's the little moments like these that make you appreciate the simple things in life.

You decide to take advantage of your day off and make yourself a nice, leisurely breakfast. You rummage through your kitchen, searching for something that'll strike your fancy. After much consideration, you settle on some pancakes and a couple of eggs. The smell of cooking fills the air as you carefully flip the pancakes on the stove, making sure not to burn them. You're quite the chef, you think to yourself with a satisfied grin.

Once breakfast is finally done, you sit down at your small kitchen table, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face. The pancakes are fluffy and the eggs are cooked just right, and you can't help but feel content. You take your time eating, savoring each bite, and letting the world outside continue its slow, steady march towards whatever it is that it does. You know there are things you should probably do today, chores and errands and whatnot, but for now you're in no hurry. The only thing missing is a good coffee and a smoke. After taking care of the dishes you make yourself a nice cup of coffee and walk to the small balcony attached to the kitchen.

The view from the balcony is just as peaceful as the one from your bedroom window. You light up your cigarette, take a long drag, and let the smoke curl out of your nose. The taste of the coffee and the nicotine mix together in your mouth, and for a moment you feel like you're on top of the world. You lean against the railing, looking out over the neighborhood, and let your mind wander.

You think about your job at the coffee shop, how it can be such a grind sometimes, but then again, it pays the bills. You think about your friends, how they're always trying to get you to go out and party, but you prefer quiet nights in. You think about your family, and how you sometimes wonder what it would be like to have someone who really understands you.

The cigarette butt falls from your lips, leaving a small, burning ember on the wooden floor. You stamp it out with the tip of your shoe and take a sip of coffee. The bitterness is almost overwhelming, but you like it that way. It reminds you that life isn't all sweetness and light. It's got its share of bitterness, its share of darkness, but it's up to you how you choose to deal with it. Maybe you should do some scouting today, after cleaning, of course.

You finish your coffee and step back inside, closing the balcony door behind you. The house is still quiet, the only sound the ticking of a clock on the kitchen counter. You look around, taking in your messy, lived-in space, and realize that there's a lot of work to be done. The floor could use a good vacuuming, and the laundry...well, the laundry can wait. For now, you'll focus on cleaning up the mess you've made around your little home.

But first, music. Connecting your phone to a little speaker you select the best songs for today's first activity and start tidying up around the living room occasionally singing a verse or too along the song.

The task done, you move to the bathroom. It's a small space, but it feels strangely therapeutic to clean it. The tub and sink gleam under your careful attention, and the toilet smells fresh and clean. You stand back and admire your handiwork, feeling a sense of accomplishment washing over you.

Next, you tackle the bedroom. The bed is already made, so you focus on straightening up the dresser and picking up any stray socks or articles of clothing that have found their way onto the floor. You take a moment to organize your collection of books on a nearby shelf, lining them up neatly by height and color. It's a small detail, but it brings you a sense of satisfaction.

Finally, you turn your attention to your work space. Your desk is covered in papers, books, and various knickknacks. You begin by clearing off the desktop, stacking everything neatly into neat piles. You dust the shelves above your desk, wiping away the layers of grime that have built up over time. The air feels cleaner already, and the room seems brighter.

After such hard work done you deserve a little pampering, maybe go shopping, you could actually use some more dark clothing, best choice for keeping blood stains hidden.

Before you head out, you take one last look around your apartment. It's not much, but it's home. You're proud of how you've made it your own, how you've managed to create a space that feels warm and inviting despite the limited square footage. You take a deep breath, stretch your arms above your head, and go get dressed.

You grab a pair of black  jeans from your closet, their soft denim scratchy against your fingers. They're one of your favorite pairs, and they make your legs look longer than they actually are. You pull them on, adjusting the waistband until it's just right. Then you grab a burgundy long-sleeved shirt, the fabric soft and smooth against your skin. It's a simple design. You button it up to the top, leaving the collar open, and then put on your favorite black leather jacket. The jacket makes you feel edgy and confident, like you can take on the world. Finally, you slip on your favorite pair of black ankle boots. They lace up tightly around your calves, giving you a bit of an edge. You stand in front of the mirror, admiring your reflection. You look like you could be a character straight out of a gothic novel, and you love it.

Making your way out of your home, you wonder where should you go first? Maybe a quick trip at the mall? But which one of them? There's a smaller one in the downtown area, one north from there and the last one, much bigger then the others, near the main road of the city. Probably the one downtown would be the best choice, after al that's where most of your victims tend to wander around. With your mind made up, you walk to the subway and wait for your ride.

The downtown mall is bustling with activity when you arrive. The air is filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and the murmur of voices. You weave through the crowds, careful not to attract too much attention with your distinctive style. You make your way to one of your favorite stores, where they sell a variety of dark clothing that will be perfect for keeping blood stains hidden.

As you browse the racks, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at your purchases. You pick out a pair of dark wash jeans, a long-sleeved black shirt, and a jacket that's just a shade lighter than your favorite one. You also find a pair of black boots that are slightly more comfortable than your current pair, but with a thicker sole, perfect for crushing bones.

After paying for your new clothes, you decide to take a break and grab a bite to eat. You find a small, cozy café tucked away in a quiet corner of the mall. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, with soft lighting and comfortable chairs. You order a cup of coffee, a sandwich and sit down at a table near the window, watching the world go by outside.

As you eat, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. You're well-dressed, well-fed, and your new clothes should make it easier to avoid suspicion. You take a moment to enjoy the taste of your coffee and the sound of the Nice ambiental music . This is the life, you think to yourself.

Finishing your meal, you decide to do a little more shopping. You wander around the mall, browsing through a few bookstores and record shops. You pick up a few new albums, a couple of dark fiction novels, and a small notebook and pen set. Writing is another of your passions, and you find inspiration in the twisted tales you read and the strange events that occur in your life.

As you continue your walk, you notice a small art gallery tucked away in the corner of the mall. You've always been drawn to the macabre and the dark, and the paintings inside are no exception. You spend some time admiring the works of a local artist, whose paintings of eerie landscapes and haunting figures seem to speak directly to your soul. You purchase one of the smaller pieces, a haunting portrait of a woman with empty eyes, as a reminder of the darkness that lives within all of us.

With your final purchase done, you decide to walk around the downtown area for an hour or two, who knows, maybe you'll meet a new victim.

The air is cool and crisp, carrying with it the scent of freshly baked pastries from the nearby bakery. You take a moment to pause and enjoy the sounds of the city; the honking of car horns, the distant laughter of people enjoying their evening strolls. It's almost peaceful, in a twisted sort of way.

As you wander through the streets, you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within you. Your eyes dart from person to person, searching for someone who might be your very next victim.

As luck would have it, your little patrol around the area seems unsuccessful, better luck at night maybe, yeah, most definitely.

With a little bit of disappointment you make your way to the secluded parking lot you let your car in, it past enough time to make it seem like the car is broken, and fortunately the paperwork you got states that it was fixed today. Once your shopping bags are in the trunk of your car you go to the front and get in the car, making sure you put your seatbelt on. With a turn of the key, the engine roars to life as you choose a playlist for your ride home.

You decide to take a scenic route, driving past the city center, the old theater where you used to go as a child, the abandoned building where you first killed, the park where you used to go on dates. As you drive, you can't help but reminisce about the past, both the good and the bad. The memories flood back like a wave, washing over you, making you feel both nostalgic and haunted at the same time.

The sun begins to set, painting the sky in shades of red and orange. You find yourself slowing down, taking in the beauty of the twilight. It's as if nature itself is trying to distract you from the darkness that lies within, but you know better. You know that it's not the darkness that's the problem, it's what you choose to do with it.

You pull up in front of your apartment building, parking your car in the same spot you always do. As you step out of the car, you take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the fading day. The air is cool and crisp, carrying with it the promise of a chilly night ahead.

Once inside your (now) tidy apartment, you go through your shopping bags and put each item in it's distinctive place. Maybe you should change into something more casual if you go out again tonight.

So that's exactly what you do, after grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, you grab your new boots and a backpack with a few essentials, rope, a small hunting knife and the likes. Now it's time to go out again.

The night air is crisp and cold, the stars twinkling in the inky black sky above you. You take a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you make your way towards the city center. The streets are deserted, save for the occasional car speeding past or a lone figure hurrying home.

You wander aimlessly for a while, taking in the sights and sounds of the empty city. The neon signs flicker on and off, casting eerie shadows across the sidewalks. The buildings loom tall and ominous, as if they're watching your every move. It's then that you spot something: a young woman walking briskly down the street, headphones in, oblivious to her surroundings, and a sketchy looking man walking quite close to her. Better follow to make sure nothing bad happens to her.

Keeping a discreet distance, you trail behind them, not wanting to make your presence known too soon. The man's hand dips into his pocket, and you can see him fidgeting nervously.

The woman reaches into her own pocket, presumably for her phone, but the man lunges forward, grabbing her wrist and yanking her backwards. She lets out a sharp cry of surprise and pain. You can see the fear in her eyes as she tries to wriggle free, but the man is stronger than her. He covers her mouth with his hand while roughly pulling her hair.

" Listen here doll, you better shut the fuck up and be a good girl, or things are gonna be much worse"

You watch as the man pulls a knife from his pocket, holding it to her throat. The woman's eyes go wide with fear, and she starts to shake her head violently, tears streaming down her face. You can't just stand by and let this happen. You've seen enough of this sort of thing, and you know what needs to be done. Carefully you reach into your backpack and pick a water bottle, and with all the strength you can muster you yeet that shit straight to his head, which lands perfectly , smashing the bottle into his face. He yowls in pain, dropping his knife as he clutches his bloody face.

The woman, in shock and terror, stumbles backwards and trips over her own feet, falling hard onto the pavement. She looks up at you, her eyes filled with relief, gratitude, and maybe even fear. You kneel down next to her, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Before the man recovers from the shock you grab his wallet and the girl and run fast as fuck, as far as possible, thank God he was drunk and stupid.

You lead the girl to a nearby alley and make sure she's okay. She's shaking uncontrollably, her eyes still wide with fear. You hand her some tissues and she dabs at her face, trying to compose herself. She thanks you over and over again, her voice shaking, and you tell her it's no problem, you were just doing the right thing. After a few minutes, she finally seems to calm down. You ask her if she's okay to go home, and she nods, wiping the last tears from her face. You tell her to be careful on her way, and she nods again, taking a deep breath before stepping out of the alley.

As you make your way back home you take that guy's wallet from his pocket and stare at it. You open it , 336 dollars inside, fuck yeah! You're gonna buy yourself something nice with that cash, next, his ID, Samuel Johnson, age 28, address on 183 Main Street. You slip the wallet back inside your pocket, maybe you should go check if that's really his address, without a single thought you pull out your phone and call a taxi.

The taxi arrives a few minutes later, and you hop inside, giving the driver the address. As you ride through the city, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. You saved that girl's life tonight, and you might have a neo target . The city seems different now, somehow brighter and safer.

You arrive at the address in record time, and as you step out of the taxi, you see the building: an old, run-down apartment complex. You decide to hide around a corner and observe the building for a while, maybe you'll see him get inside the building.

After about fifteen minutes, you see him ,Samuel Johnson emerges from a nearby bar, staggering slightly. He stumbles towards the building, fishing in his pocket for keys

Now that you are sure he lives here you make your way back to your house, obviously taking a taxi, ain't no way in hell you'll be walking home. The ride back home is quiet and relaxing, the passing lights of the city lulling you to sleep, if it weren't for the holes in the asphalt you were sure you'd be asleep. You mentally prepare yourself for the shit that's about to come.

When you arrive at your place, you pull out your trusty laptop and start doing some research on the internet. After some digging, you find out that Samuel Johnson is a known drug dealer in the area, and he's been on the police's radar for quite some time. You also find out that he has a history of violence and has been arrested multiple times. This information only makes you more determined to take him down.

The question is : How do you do that?

Do you make it look like drug overdose?

Some type of teritorial gang violence?

A car accident?

A freak accident in his own apartment?

The possibilities are endless, and the choice is yours.

It's best to sleep on it for now, you need to go to work in the morning.

[ddesguv]

Chapter 1

You roll over in bed, grumbling to yourself as your eyes slowly open. The morning light streams in through the crack between the curtains, illuminating the dust particles dancing lazily in the air. The alarm clock on your bedside table blares an ear-splitting jingle, taunting you with the thought of another day at work. You let out a particularly heartfelt groan, annoyance coursing through your veins.

With a sigh, you force yourself to sit up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and rubbing at your bleary eyes. 

Your apartment is small, but it's cozy and feels like a sanctuary after a long shift at the cafe. A bookshelf teeters precariously on the wall above your bed, stacked with an eclectic mix of thrillers, classics, and manga. Your favorite coffee mug, adorned with a grim reaper wielding a steaming cup, sits on your nightstand, filled to the brim with pens and old business cards.

You make your way to the bathroom, the tile floor cool against the soles of your feet. The mirror above the sink is fogged up from your breath, but you can still make out your reflection in the corner. Another day in paradise, you think to yourself, reaching for your toothbrush and toothpaste.

As you brush your teeth, you can't help but think about the shift yesterday. It had been one of those days, alright. The regulars had been particularly demanding, and the new girl, Sally, had been even more clumsy than usual. You'd caught her almost dropping a tray of lattes twice. The worst part had been when that pretentious asshole in the corner had complained about the temperature of his cappuccino.

You rinse your mouth and dry your hands, glancing at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is a mess, your eyes are bloodshot.You let out a sigh, wondering if you should bother trying to look presentable or if it even matters. After all, you're just another face in the crowd at the cafe. You reach for your favorite black hoodie, sliding it on over your head, and then pull on a pair of worn-in jeans and your trusty black Converse.

The walk to work is a short one, only a few blocks down the busy main street. You take in the sights and sounds around you, the hustle and bustle of the city starting to wake up. The smell of coffee drifts on the breeze, mingling with the scent of freshly baked pastries and exhaust fumes. You smile to yourself, feeling oddly at peace amidst the chaos.

You round the corner and spot the familiar neon sign for the cafe, its green and white lettering beckoning you like a beacon. With a sigh, you push open the door and step inside, blinking against the bright lights. The cafe is already beginning to fill up with early risers, the steady hum of conversation filling the air. You nod hello to your manager, Mary, as you make your way to the back, where the staff locker room is located.

Inside, the air is a mix of various perfumes and colognes, mingled with the smell of cheap laundry detergent. The lockers are arranged in neat rows, each one adorned with pictures of family and friends, posters of bands, and the occasional cheesy inspirational quote. You spot Sally, still looking a bit frazzled from yesterday, and smile reassuringly at her.

"Hey, you okay?" you ask as you throw your bag onto an empty locker.She shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. "I guess. It's just... I'm still getting used to the pace, y'know? I'm sorry about yesterday. I'll do better today."

You smile at her reassuringly and slap her shoulder lightly. "Hey, we all had to start somewhere. You're doing great, really. Just take it one cup at a time." You glance around the locker room, noticing that a few other people have started to gather near the lockers. "So, anyone have any interesting plans for the weekend?" one asked, trying to get the conversation started.

A few people chuckle, and a guy named Dave, who's been working here for almost a year, says, "Well, I'm going to try and catch up on some sleep, if I can. But other than that, just the usual, you know? Hanging out with friends, maybe hitting up a bar or two."

You nod in agreement, thinking about your own plans. You've got some hunting to do.

"Speaking of plans, I'm actually going hunting ." You grin, feeling a thrill of anticipation at the thought. "It's been awhile since I've been out there, you know? Just me and nature. So don't bother calling me If y'all are understaffed ".

The others chuckle, some of them nodding in agreement. "That sounds like fun," Sally says, sounding a little envious. "I've never been hunting before. What do you hunt, if you don't mind me asking?"

You shrug, thinking about the various prey you've gone after in the past. "Well, usually deer or wild boar." You pause, smiling as you remember a particularly memorable hunt. "It's not just about the kill, you know? It's about being out there, in the wilderness. The quiet, the fresh air. It's like meditation for me."

There's a brief silence as everyone takes this in, nodding in understanding. Even if they've never been hunting themselves, they can appreciate the peace and solitude that comes with being out in nature. You're grateful for the supportive group of coworkers you've got here. They're a good bunch, even if they do like to gossip a little too much sometimes. Yet you can't help but wonder, what would your dear coworkers think about you If they found out that you weren't talking about hunting animals at all. A small chuckle escapes, thinking about how your victims tend to have some animalistic tendencies, after all human beings don't behave like they have done.

"So, how about you lot?" you ask, changing the subject. "Any plans for the weekend that don't involve tracking prey through the woods?" The others start chatting amongst themselves, sharing plans for parties, barbecues, and family gatherings. You nod along, feeling a mix of envy and longing. It's been so long since you've been able to just relax and be part of a normal social setting. But then again, you've never been one for crowds. You prefer the quiet, the solitude. And besides, you have your own kind of fun to look forward to. You excuse yourself from the conversation and go to your locker and change into the simple yet cute uniform.

As you're tying your apron around your waist, you can't help but smile to yourself. The anticipation is almost unbearable. It's been far too long since you've had a truly satisfying kill. You wonder what tonight will bring. Will it be another mundane night at the coffee shop, or will you finally get the chance to unleash your primal instincts? Only time will tell. But one thing's for sure: when you're out there, on the hunt, you feel more alive than you ever do here.

You take your place behind the counter, greeting your regulars with a bright smile. "Hey, Jim! How's it going today?" You ask, pouring him his usual cup of coffee. He responds with a gruff nod and a grunt, not even bothering to look up from his phone. You watch as he takes a sip, noticing the satisfied expression on his face. Ah, the simple pleasures in life. Too bad it's gonna be his last. Oh, old mister Jim, a sleazy landlord from downtown, you've done your homework on him, you know when he wakes up, when he goes to sleep, where his house is where he likes to get a drink, but ,most importantly, what he does in his spare time, always driving his car around the local schools and parks, eyes lingering on teenage girls. You're about to rid the world of his filth.

The rest of the day passes by in a blur of coffee cups and cookie jars. You listen to the patrons' idle chatter, pretending to be interested in their mundane lives. You watch them come and go, some of them leaving with a spring in their step, others with a weight on their shoulders. You're content to remain in the background, a mere observer of the human drama unfolding around you. But all the while, your mind is elsewhere, plotting, scheming.

Finally, the clock strikes eight, signaling the end of your shift. You gather your things, exchanging quick goodbyes with your coworkers. As you step out into the cool night air, you breathe a sigh of relief. The air is crisp and clean, free from the lingering scent of coffee and baked goods. You pull your jacket tighter around you, wishing for something warm to drink, but knowing that it will have to wait.

Your heart races with anticipation as you make your way to the subway. The lights and sounds of the city surround you, the hustle and bustle of human activity almost drowning out your own thoughts.

You board , finding a seat amidst the sea of faces. Some are lost in their own thoughts, others are engrossed in their phones or books. You watch them all, studying their movements, their expressions.

As the train rattles through the underground tunnels, you close your eyes, letting the motion lull you into a sort of trance. Your other senses heighten, becoming more acute. You can feel the vibrations of the tracks beneath you, the warm breath of the strangers around you. You pick up on the faint scent of sweat and perfume, the tinny sound of someone's headphones.

When the train comes to your stop, you gather your things and step off, your heart racing with anticipation. The air above the tracks is cool and crisp, the lights harsh and unforgiving. You make your way through the crowds of people, their bodies a living maze that you must navigate through.

Finally, you emerge from the chaos and find yourself standing before a vast parking lot. The asphalt stretches out before you like a black ocean, the rows of parked cars like silent sentinels guarding the entrance to the lot. You can't help but feel a thrill of excitement course through you.

You've planned this for months now, you even paid good money for some paperwork from a mechanic to make sure you have an alibi, after all, with a "broken" car and fake number plates it would be pretty impossible to trace things back to you, hell, you even let your car in this specific parking lot because it has no cameras, easier to sneak out undetected. You get in your car, start the engine and drive off to ol' Jim's house, good thing the fucker lived alone in a house near the outskirts of the city.

As you approach the house, you can't help but feel a wave of disgust wash over you. The place looks like something out of a horror movie, all the lights are off and the curtains are drawn shut. It's like the house is trying to hide from the world, trying to pretend that Jim doesn't exist. But you know better. You know what he's capable of. You know what he's done. And you're here to make things right.

It's showtime!

You pull up to the curb, leaving your car idling as you step out and make your way to the front door. Your heart is racing, your palms are sweaty, but you try to maintain an air of nonchalance. You knock on the door a few times, pretending to be surprised when it swings open. There he is, Jim, looking just as you remember him . He's wearing nothing but a pair of worn out sweatpants and an old t-shirt, his hair disheveled. His eyes widen in recognition as he sees you standing there.

"Oh, Jim, I- I'm so sorry to disturb you, my pice of shit car broke down and I-I, fuck I don't know what to do, my phone ain't working either, and I just, well I hoped whoever lives here could help me"

His expression shifts from surprise to confusion, and then to suspicion. "What do you mean, it broke down?" he asks warily, stepping back inside the doorway.

" It's started making weird noises and then the engine died, please I'm begging you Jim, I'll make up with free coffee if you take a look at the car" you plead, trying to keep the desperation out of your voice.

He crosses his arms, his gaze unwavering as he studies your face. "Fine," he says finally. "I'll take a look. But you owe me."

You follow Jim back to your car, your heart hammering in your chest. He opens the hood and begins poking around under the hood, frowning at the engine. You try to distract him, keeping up a steady stream of chatter about nothing in particular. After a few minutes, he straightens up and turns to you.

That's when you hit him with the small hammer you hidden on your back, watching as his eyes roll back and blood dribbles from the wound, obviously you didn't kill him just yet, but you did get him unconscious.

Now the hard work begins, you put a blanket over the back seats of your car and shove him inside, making sure his hands and feet are tied.

You then head back to his house, taking some of his clothes and belongings, just in case someone decides to investigate, you know he had planned a trip for tomorrow morning, might at all make it like he already left, and even if his body was found, the suspected ones would be the loan sharks he had numerous altercations with. After making sure you've taken everything important, you leave the house, locking the door behind you. You get back in your car and head for the forest.

The forest is dark and eerie, the trees looming overhead guarding their secrets. You park your car at the edge of a dirt road, making sure it's hidden from view. Then, you drag Jim's limp body out of the car and into the forest. The weight of him is surprising, but you manage to carry him for a short distance before finding a suitable spot.

With a sharp smack across the face you manage to wake him up , his eyes fluttering open in confusion. "What's going on?" he manages to croak.

You smile coldly, revealing a knife in your hand. "I could ask you the same question, Jim. But I think we both know why I brought you here." You kneel down next to him, pressing the blade against his throat. "You've made a lot of people suffer, and I'm here to make sure they get some justice."

Jim's eyes widen in fear as he takes in your expression. "W-What do you want from me?" he stutters.

You laugh darkly. "Oh, Jim. You don't get it, do you? You're going to die here. Tonight. And it's going to hurt." You push the knife harder into his throat, drawing a thin line of blood. "But before I end you, I want you to know that I'm doing this for all the people you've hurt. All the lives you've ruined."

Jim's eyes dart around, terror etching itself into his features. He tries to speak, but no words come out. You smile again, a cruel expression that chills him to the bone. "Oh, don't worry. I'm going to kill you slowly. I'm gonna make sure you feel everything."

With that, you plunge the knife into his leg, twisting it as you do so. He lets out a scream that echoes through the forest. Blood pours from the wound, soaking his pants and staining the ground beneath him. You lean in closer, watching with a detached fascination as he writhes in agony. "See, Jim? This is for all the times you thought you were untouchable. For all the people you thought were nothing."

You reach down and rip his shirt open, revealing his chest. He screams again as you slice into his flesh, carving out a chunk of meat and exposing his ribs. You press your hand against his wound, feeling the warmth of his blood seeping through your skin. "This is for all the times you lied and cheated, for all the lives you ruined. You're going to feel every ounce of pain that you've caused."

You step back, watching as Jim struggles to breathe, his body convulsing in agony. You reach into his pocket, retrieving a small flask of whiskey. "This should help take the edge off," you say, pouring the amber liquid over his wound. He screams again, the pain intensified by the burning alcohol.

You stand over him, knife in hand, as he writhes in the dirt. "You see, Jim? This is what it feels like to be helpless. To be at the mercy of someone else. You may have thought you were invincible, but you were wrong." You press the knife against his chest, carving out another chunk of flesh. "And you know what the worst part is? This is just the beginning." 

As you continue to slice and dice his body, you find yourself lost in a macabre dance of death. You carve words into his flesh, letting him know exactly what you think of him and what he's done. You take pleasure in watching the life drain from his eyes, in hearing his labored breaths turn into agonized gasps. With each cut, you feel a sense of release, of catharsis.

The forest around you is eerily quiet, save for the sounds of Jim's torment. Occasionally, a branch cracks under the weight of some unseen creature or the wind rustles through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. But it's nothing compared to the sounds coming from Jim. You feel a strange mixture of emotions: revulsion at what you're doing, but also a twisted sort of satisfaction.

You carve the words "LIAR" into his thigh, watching as blood pours down his leg and pools on the ground beneath him. "You thought you could get away with it, didn't you?" you ask, the anger in your voice laced with disgust. "You thought you could ruin people's lives and just walk away clean?" He whimpers in response, unable to muster the strength to speak.

You take a step back, surveying your handiwork. Jim's body is a grotesque landscape of open wounds and exposed flesh. His eyes are rolling back in his head, his lips blue from the cold and the blood loss. "You know, I've thought about this for a long time," you confess, your voice cold and detached. "I've thought about how I would make you pay for what you've done." You kneel down next to him, running your fingers through his matted hair. "And I've come to the conclusion that there's no punishment severe enough for someone like you."

You reach into your pocket and retrieve a small box. Inside are several long, thin needles. "This is going to hurt like hell, Jim," you warn him, "but it's nothing compared to what you've put others through." You carefully insert one of the needles into his neck, piercing his carotid artery. Blood begins to flow freely, pooling around him. "This is for the people you hurt," you say, your voice barely audible over the sound of his labored breathing.

As you watch the life drain from his eyes, you take out another needle and begin to stitch him up. You start with the deepest wounds, working your way to the surface, sealing them shut with expert precision. The contrast between the pain he's experiencing and the numbness that sets in as you work is almost comical. You smile to yourself as you tie off the last stitch. "There we go. All better now."

You stand up, wiping your bloody hands on your pants, and survey the damage one last time. Jim lies motionless in the dirt, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. You can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at what you've done. It may not have been enough to make him truly suffer the way he made others suffer, but it's something.

" Well my friend, I'm afraid the show is over, it was truly a pleasure playing with you" with that said, you take one final look at his miserable face and thrust your knife deep inside him, straight in his heart.

With a gurgling sound, he gasps for air and his eyes widen in shock and pain. But it's too late. His life ebbs away as you twist the knife, watching his struggles grow weaker and weaker. Finally, there's no movement left, no breath left. He's gone.

" Now, time to dig, fucking hell i hate this part" you go back to your car and take a small shovel from your trunk, making your way back to Jim's corpse.

You dig the grave in silence, the sound of the shovel striking the dirt and the rustle of leaves the only noises to break the stillness of the forest. It takes you some time, but eventually you've dug a shallow grave large enough to fit his lifeless body.