(Hazbin Hotel and all related characters are copyrighted by Vivenne Medrano and their respective owners. All original characters created by me.)

Note from the Author: As this story was written while the Hazbin Hotel franchise was still somewhat in its infancy, it attempts to follow the rules and canon that had been established at the time it was written. In the future, parts of this story may no longer make sense to the canon as it is later set. Please keep this in mind when reading this in the future.

Also, be advised that the following contains content not suitable for children (it IS based on an adult show, after all). Expect lots of foul language, grusome violence, and plot elements that are unwholesome at best.

(Oh, and I decided to chop this into two parts because it was getting long and unwindy as it was)

Enjoy!

-Adonisus

The Chay Ong Casefiles by Adonisus

Volume 1: Always Chasing Rainbows

She always had the same damned dreams.

Every night, when the dull red glow of Hell's day gave way to it's dark foreboding night, Chay would find herself wrapped snuggly in her 'blanket' (which was really just a pile of old t-shirts), exhausted from the mind-numbing tedium of paperwork and note-taking, and she would breath out the last of the day's stress, and simply allow her consciousness to give rest.

And then she would start hearing the screams.

Mommy! Where's my Mommy?!

I found more, over here!

Chinese filth! Leeching off of our motherland! Die!

Mommy, it hurts...it HURTS...

Then she would start seeing the fire. She would see hazy forms running away, as if fleeing from some unseen threat. Something they found so terrifying that they were willing to push and trip over each other just to get a few precious inches away from it. Like antelope fleeing from a cheetah.

Then she would start seeing the huts, burning and collapsing into smoldering ashes. She would see weeping figures watching as their meager lives were put to the torch.

Then she would wake up.

"Fucking hell", she said as she clumsily climbed out of her bed. She woozily scratched at her sunken eyes, trying to get the bits of dust and grime as she made her way to her 'bathroom' (which was just a sink and a toilet on the far side of her room). She could hear her phone vibrating near the window, but it would have to wait.

She stumbled groggily over to the sink, and looked at herself in the mirror.

Yeah, she was still fucking ugly.

Her sunken eyes framed by pale green flesh, stretched thinly over a face that was more a caricature of a skull then any actual skull. Her noseless face steepled over thin lips, barely stretched over bare rows of teeth. The whole ghastly ensemble was topped off with long back-length black hair. She was reminded of the stories the old Chinese lady would tell kids like her about the Hungry Ghosts, the poor souls of those who died with overpowering desire, and who wandered the underworld for eternity, desperately hungering for food, for drink, for carnal release, and never able to be sated.

And yes, she was hungry. Always hungry. Or thirsty. Or horny. Or some combination of all three. No matter how much she ate, or how much she drank, or how many sessions she had in the bedroom, it was never enough. She may have been sated temporarily, just enough that she could ignore it for a while, but it always came back. She had been down here for fifty years, and for all that time , always in the back of her mind and in the pit of her gut, she was hungry.

This is what she lived with down here. This is how she woke up when she found herself here. Any previous good looks she may have had in life had been stripped away from her by cruel karma, the most severest of justice.

Well, at least it made brushing her teeth a bit easier...

As she squeezed out toothpaste on her ragged toothbrush, she turned on the faucet. Stale water poured forth. It tasted like shit, but it was relatively clean (at least by Imp City standards). And besides, what could it do? Kill her? That's a laugh.

She was starting breakfast and putting on her bra when her phone started vibrating again.

She looked at the caller's ID.

It was Lucius, her ILF contact.

"Yes, Lu?"

"I told you to stop forwarding your clients' calls to me", Lucius growled angrily into her ear.

"And I told you that I might be able to stop doing that if you could get me a proper office."

"And I told YOU that real-estate in this town is already fucking murder as it is! The bastards have us packed like sardines in this fucking hole!"

"Funny. You managed to scrounge enough space for your training cells."

"Yeah, after we gutted the owner and hanged the fucker from his entrails."

Now that she thought about it, they had eviscerated the warehouse's previous owner...and she was pretty sure the fat old imp was still hanging from some random lamp post, screaming to anyone who would listen. Most people ignored him. This was Hell. No one fucking cared.

"Is it really such a big distraction from your bomb-making, Lu?"

The other end went silent for a second. Then she heard Lu respond with a low growl.

"I'm not your fucking secretary."

"And you're not my fucking mother. Now what is it you need? I'm fixing to eat breakfast."

She heard Lucius sigh.

"You've got another client asking for you. Wants to report a missing person."

"Oh joy of joys. What else is new." She started combing her hair to wrench out the knots. The rice cooker was finished and her breakfast was ready. "I get enough of those as it is."

"Uh huh, my heart bleeds. But you might want to pay attention to this one."

"And why's that? Another minor lord missing their precious heiress? A servant ran out after impregnating the wife?"

"This ain't small time, Chay. This is big leagues. We're talking more than a minor lord here. We're talking someone big."

Chay started pouring her morning rice porridge into a bowl. She reached into the 'pantry' (a hole in the wall) and grabbed her containers of black pepper and crushed chilies.

"Mhmm. I'm sure."

She sprinkled the pepper and chilies over the porridge and took a bite.

"I'm not fucking with you, Chay! Just get your ass down here quick. They want you there before three, and you're gonna want a good three or four hours to spare for the trip."

Chay spat out the rice porridge.

"The FUCK are you talking about? Imp City is big but it ain't THAT fucking big!"

"This job ain't here in Imp, Chay. You're dealing with the bigger fish this time. You're going out of town."

Chay suddenly stopped breathing.

"...Out of town? What lunatic would try to leave the city?! The wasteland is a goddamn gauntlet of nightmares!"

She heard Lucius sigh (again).

"We've got a way to get you to P.C., Chay. Don't worry. But you're gonna need to work out some details over here before you leave.

Wait...did he say P.C.?

"Lucius...don't fuck with me here. By P.C. do you means..."

"Yeah. I'm talking about Pentagram City. You're going to see one of the Overlords."

"She's clean! Let her in!", the Imp guard cried into the warehouse.

Chay winced as the enormous warehouse doors screeched open. She was often surprised by the stupidity of some of Lucius's men. She had been down here numerous times before, and honestly who else in this cursed urbania looked like a six foot ghoul wearing all-black with a checkered red-and-white scarf?

Now that I think about it, she thought, probably more than a few.

She stepped inside as the doors screeched shut behind her. The lights flickered back on as the backups restored the power. The warehouse suddenly became a flurry of activity again, with the giant metal printing press printing out propaganda and the new recruits going through their drills. She could see some of Lucius's crew polishing machine guns at a ramshackle table near the back. And above all of it was a large black banner hanging from the rafters, emblazoned with a red pentagram bearing the letters I.L.F in black, and wreathed by a pair of Imp horn: The flag of the Imp Liberation Front.

As usual, they had decided to go dark as soon as they heard someone was outside. Also as usual, they immediately turned the lights back on as soon as they realized she was no threat.

Over-confident and inefficient. That was the ILF to a tee.

"Chay! Over here!".

Lucius was standing near the door to the warehouse's underground shelter. Lucius was fairly tall for an Imp, standing at around 4 ft. He was clad as usual in his black sweater, cargo shorts and a pair of dark sunglasses, topped off with a black beret. His white hair was shaved into a pair of sideburns, and the white spaces in his Imp horns had been dyed pitch black.

"Lucius, you better start explaining to me what the fuck you're planning". Chay was unusually grumpy this morning, and the fact that her 'business partner' was laying the secrecy on thick was only making it worse. Normally Lucius was pretty forthcoming when it came to these jobs. He had to be. The whole deal he had made with Chay in the first place was that he would help with her detective business as long as she helped fund his organization. In return, Chay had the official protection of the ILF guerillas and their associates, and Chay was able to navigate the hazardous web of connections and double-crosses that made up Hell's social system. The fact that Lucius had been otherwise faithful on his end of the bargain all of this time was testament to the lucrative nature of their partnership.

At least, that's what she kept telling herself. Imps were quite a bit more agreeable than your average Sinner in Hell, but they were more than capable of stabbing you in the back.

"Chay, I'm sorry about the bullshit", Lucius said. "But I promise there is a reason for all of the cloak n' dagger crap. I told you that we weren't dealing with a minor lord here, and I meant it. We're talking about someone much much bigger."

Chay grabbed Lucius by his collar.

"I don't want your excuses, Lu. I want answers. Why are you making me get out of bed before noon? Who the fuck is this person? Why the fuck are they so goddamn special? And why are you acting like Mr. Special has you by the balls?!"

Lucius threw up his hands incredulously. "Because this person is calling in a big fucking favor, and you're the only person I know of who can do the job. This guy could help fund our operations for the foreseeable century..."

Lucius went quiet for a second.

"...And he's really not the type who accepts failure as an option".

Chay was staring daggers into Lucius's shades.

"Lu. Answers. Now."

"Oh, fuck it.", Lucius growled. He fished into his pockets and pulled out his phone. He shoved it into Chay's face.

"Fucking read it yourself. But just so we're clear: I was TRYING to prepare you for..."

Lucius's voice faded out. Chay couldn't hear him anymore. At best all she could hear was a dull roar.

Because the message that was blinking at her on Lucius's phone nearly killed her a second time.

:LU, BABY.

YOUR FAVOR HAS BEEN CALLED.

SEND YOU PEEP TO ME.

4PM SHARP.

DON'T KEEP A BITCH WAITING.

- VAL :

"...Fucking Valentino?!". Chay was nearly apopleptic. This was nowhere near standard proceedure (or anywhere close to the running joke they amusingly called 'standard proceedure'). Lu had been right: this wasn't some regular minor lord. This wasn't even a major lord. This was one of the fucking Overlords. This was one of the demons that stood on the top rungs of Hell's social ladder. One of the demons that not only ran Hell, but also had substantial control over one of Hell's most lucrative businesses.

But of all the Overlords that Lucius could have gotten mixed up with, why did it have to be...

"...FUCKING VALENTINO?!", Chay shouted for a second time (and slightly louder).

"Yes, Chay. We know his name.", Lucius said as they descended the long staircase into the underground bunker. "We are aware of it. You don't have to keep screaming it into my ear."

Chay was shaking her head. "But...but VALENTINO?! The king shit of Pimp Mountain?! The guy who controls all of Hell's sex industry? You made a deal with THAT asshole?!"

"Yes, Chay", Lucius sighed. "I did. Connections are important to the cause."

Chay grabbed Lucius by the shoulders, shaking her head. "But...but WHY?!"

Chay just couldn't believe it. Why would Lucius connect himself with someone like Val? Val wasn't just the the sex industry's head, he was also a flesh trader. A prolific flesh trader. And Imps were among his most lucrative merchandise. Imps were indigenous to Hell, and Valentino's customers relished in the idea of exploiting and hurting someone with the 'innocence' (in a manner of speaking) of someone who was not a Sinner.

Lucius put his hands up defensively. "It's not like that Chay, honest!". He pressed his fingers to his forehead, trying to fight off a migraine. "Look, do you remember a few months ago during the Hecate struggle?"

"...Yes, I do happen to remember it.", Chay acknowledged. Hecate was the name of an independent brothel in Imp city's lower West side. The guy who ran it (a Sinner by the name of Flynn) had been accused of kidnapping drug-addicted Imps off of the street in order to work for him, and he kept them there through a combination of threats and a fresh supply of hard drugs. Lucius and the ILF obviously couldn't tolerate such a blatant example of Imp exploitation, so one of their female members attempted to go in undercover as an Imp hooker, trying to sneak a pipebomb into the place. The pipebomb had been loaded with shrapnel made from the spears that the Exterminators used during the annual Cleansing.

"Yeah, and do you remember how that ended?", Lucius asked.

What had happened was that the Imp girl not only managed to blow herself up, but she also managed to take out Flynn himself and several of his patrons. She ALSO managed to take out some of the Imp prostitutes, which ultimately defeated the entire purpose of the action.

"OK, yes I do remember. But what does that have to do with Valentino?"

Lucius shook his head. "One of the girls the bomb killed wasn't just another Imp. She was also an informant working for Valentino." Lucius rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Having Val's goons inform me was...not plesant."

Some gears clicked in Chay's head. Valentino must have figured out what had happened. Which meant that he had leverage that he could exploit.

"...Son of a bitch, he really does have you by the balls."

Lucius nodded. "Like a vice grip." He turned around and began descending the staircase again.

"But if that's the case...", Chay wonderd as she followed after him, "then why hasn't he come after you until now?"

"Well, according to him, we managed to inadvertently help him. We took out a potential competitor, and also tied up a potential loose end."

Chay blinked. "Wow...he's a cold bastard."

"Very.", Lucius agreed. He took out a small skeleton key and began unlocking a vaulted door at the bottom of the stair-well. The heavy door slowly opened, revealing a cramped space filled with emergency supplies (in the event of either an Extermination or other unconceived-of catastrophe). This was the bunker that had been built decades ago by the previous owner. At the other end of the bunker was yet another door.

Lucius jogged over to the other side of bunker. "Alright, this is where we part ways for now." He pulled out a key card and ran it through a dusty cardreader on the door. The cardreader acknowledged Lucius's input and the door slowly swung open on rusty hinges. "My comrade Viola is waiting for you below. She'll be the one to get you set up before you leave." He pocketed his keycard and crossed his arms. "After that, you're on your own."

Chay looked through the door...to yet another descending staircase. There was definitely a metaphor somewhere in this.

Lucius handed her a flashlight. "At the bottom of this is your ride. You remember the old Tube system?"

Chay blinked for a second.

"You mean the old subway?"

Lucius shook his head. "Not a subway. A literal Tube system. Lucifer tore up half of Hell a few decades ago because he wanted to create a convenient form of travel. He came up with the idea of enormous pneumatic tubes that could get someone from one city to another in a matter of hours. His idea of rapid transit." Lucius sighed and shook his head. "...But he forgot to factor in what kind of impact those kinds of g-forces have on lower demons."

Chay looked back through the door.

"Wait...you mean I'm going to be traveling in that?"

"Yeah, sort of. Except you'll be going in a hermetically sealed capsule rather than the old glass pods that were originally used. You'll come out of it fine. Mostly."

Lucius began walking back to the vaulted door. "Alright, clock's ticking. Viola will meet you at the bottom and get you strapped in." He walked through the door's frame and looked back at her. "My advice to you? Keep your eyes closed. Don't want to lose your breakfast."

Lucius grinned. "Good luck!", he waved and slammed the vaulted door shut.

Chay shook her head. "Fucking Hell." She flipped on the flashlight and began descending the staircase. She braced herself against the wall as she tenuously took step after step. It was very obvious that this place hadn't seen any action in decades. She could see cracked tiles, dripping pipes, and she was pretty sure she could hear things slithering behind the walls. Hell was already pretty dangerous as it was, but Hell in the dark was a different kind of hazardous altogether.

She finally descended the final step and found herself in a large, dark atrium. She could see cracked Roman-style columns and a series of what she presumed to have been benches, though the wood used for their construction had since rotted through and collapsed in on themselves. One of the columns had long since collapsed, and underneath it was the skeleton of a dead Sinner, gripping a rusted red crowbar. The poor bastard must have been trapped here for a some time...at least until one of the Exterminators got to him.

"Look's like shit huh?"

Chay almost jumped out of her skin. She wheeled around behind her, trying to find the source of the voice, nearly tripping on her own scarf.

"Over here, dipshit."

A second flashlight flicked on in front of her, illuminating the face of a heavily mascaraed Imp.

"Name's Viola. Nice to fucking meet you."

Chay shined her light towards the source of the voice, revealing a squat female Imp. She was wearing a black turtle-neck sweater, beret and cargo skirt. Her face was one of annoyance...or indifference. Resting bitch face, maybe?

"Ahem, yes. Nice to mee you to." She put her hand forward. "I'm Chay Ong, Private Investigator."

"Lucius's new dupe, in other words." Viola returned the handshake. She swung her flashlight widely across the atrium, illuminating it's gilded ruin. "So much work done for such a stupid whim." She then pointed the flashlight up to the ceiling. "And it's all because of that guy."

Chay looked up at where Viola's flashlight was pointing.

"Whoa", she said.

The ceiling had been painted with a massive mural. It was cracked and the paint had chipped in a few places, but there was no mistaking it's subject: A blond-haired demon, wearing a white overcoat, white wide-brimmed hat, white trousers, shiny black shoes, a red-striped shirt, and wielding a cane topped with a red apple...and centered by a bright-white face with purple eye-shadow, rosy cheeks and a grin full of white, pointed teeth.

The Morningstar himself: Lucifer Magne.

"Guess he didn't want anyone to forget who built it.", Chay remarked.

"And yet, everyone did. Fifty years after it's failure and now noone remembers this thing. Follow me, please." Viola turned around and jogged over to the other side of the atrium, with Chay catching up behind her.

"Did Lucius already give you the details?", Viola asked.

"As much as I think he was willing to give.", Chay answered. "Something about how he owes Val a favor for the botched Hecate job."

"You mean what happened to Layla?" Viola got quiet. " It wasn't her fault, you know. Our bombmaker had fucked with the timer. She was supposed to have been out of that place for half and hour before it was supposed to blow."

"You knew her?", Chay asked.

"A little bit. She was a true comrade." Viola actually seemed whistful. "I kind of wished I'd known her better."

"Well, either way...", Chay said as he tried to keep up with Viola, "It turned out that one of the brothel's workers was an informant for Valentino, and Val's goons let him know."

Viola halted. She turned to face Chay. "Is that what he told you?"

Chay narrowed her eyes. "Yes, that's the info he relayed to me."

Viola's face puckered. She could barely contain her laughter.

"And you believe him? Seriously?"

Chay sighed and facepalmed. "I knew there had to be more to the story."

Viola shook her head as she wiped away tears of laughter. "Oh honey, that's most of it. There's just one crucial detail he left out."

Chay crossed her arms. "And that would be?"

"oh come on!", Viola turned back around and wandered over to the edge of the atrium. "You've known Lucius for how long, now? You know he likes to get his dick wet as much as anybody!"

Chay grunted. She did know about that. The nature of her afterlife meant that she had found herself with Lucius in situations she'd much rather forget. Situations of a carnal nature, and ones she wasn't exactly proud of.

"Meaning...?", Chay asked.

"Meaning that he was dating the girl who turned out to be Val's mole! She told him she was working for Val! How do you think he found out in the first place?"

Chay sighed. Of course that was it. Valentino must have tracked him down after the Hecate went up in flames.

"So then the reason Val is holding this over Lu's head..."

"...Is because Val has some serious compramat on Lu.", Viola finished for her. "The only way Lu found out about Hecate at all was because he was patronizing it to begin with."

Chay was...not necessarily mad, as much as she was disappointed. She knew that Lucius was a horn dog, but she also thought he had some principles.

She was about to ask if Lucius had any other potential blackmailers when Viola pointed in front of her. "We're here".

Chay shined her flashlight where Viola was pointing. It was an enormous metal tube, extending from one end of the atrium to the other, and lined with a series of metal hatches. It was rusted in places, and some of the welding bolts were definitely not as secure as they could have been.

Viola reached up and undid the latch on the center hatch. It slowly popped open.

Chay looked inside the tube. Inside was a large obsidian capsule, roughly about the average size of an Imp (about 4 ft.). The words 'Imp Launcher" were painted on it's side in white.

"You see the capsule, right?", Viola asked. She was a little too short to look into the hatch herself.

Chay nodded. It looked kind of cramped.

"Ok, you're going to need a door code to get inside." Viola pulled out a small notepad from her skirt pocket. "Look towards the back of the capsule. See the keypad?"

Chay pointed her flashlight towards the rear of the capsule. There was a small numerical keypad...of only six numbers.

Because of course it was. Lucifer was fucking obsessed with that number for some reason.

"Yeah, I see it."

"Alright, enter the following...". Viola cleared her throat. "Six and one..."

"...Got it." Chay pressed the appropriate keys, which responded with an affirmative click.

"...Five...five, two, five, two..."

Chay stopped for a moment. "Is there a reason you're reading these so...I don't know, haltingly?"

"Hey, it's Lu's handwriting!", Viola grunted. "Three...and one. That should do it."

The door of the capsule hissed open.

"Alright, get in. I know it's a bit cramped, but it's the best bet we have."

Chay cautiously climbed inside. The interior of the capsule was padded with black leather, and a small viewing window was centered at eye-level (for an Imp, anyway).

"Hey, where did you guys get this thing? This is pretty ritzy for a ruined transport system."

Viola replaced the noteback and reached into her pocket again. "It was hidden in the bunker. Now take this, you're gonna need a weapon. Pentagram City isn't very safe on it's best day..."

Viola pulled out a pistol...or at least that's what Chay thought it was. It was certainly pistol like, at least.

"What's this?"

"This is Lu's gift to you." Viola handed the weapon to Chay. "It's called an Apache Revolver. It was used by old French gangsters in the 1900s."

The weapon certainly looked a little haphazard. It was definitely a revolver, but it looked like it was constructed out of random junk. The handle was a knuckle duster, and the trigger had no trigger guard. The barrel was short and blunt, with what looked like a small folding dagger blade screwed to the side. The only normal part of the gun was the cylinder, which was loaded with six shots.

"It's three weapons in one. Good for punching, stabbing, and plugging." Viola also handed Chay a small map. "This is a map of the West side, where you're going. It's where Pentagram City's red light district is located...I mean, in a matter of speaking. That whole city is basically one giant sin haven".

Chay curled up in her cramped vehicle. "Hey, Lu said something about g-forces?"

"Yeah, don't worry about those. You're well fortified inside there." Viola smoothed out her skirt. "OK, I've done my part of the job. The trip should take you about four hours, tops. It's gonna be a bumpy ride, so get comfy."

Chay shifted around, trying to find a comfortable position. "Well, I'll try to endure it I guess." The door to the capsule hissed shut. She could see the hazy form of Viola through the door's tinted window.

"Story of our lives, Chay." Viola began shutting the hatch. "Alright, time to go." Viola hit a large red button labeled 'LAUNCH'. The Tube's mechanism began charging up. Chay could feel the capsule's interior vibrating. "Let's just hope the rest of the Tube hasn't completely collapsed..."

"Wait...what did you say about..."

"Good luck!" Viola slammed the hatch shut.

Chay sighed. "Goddammit."

The mechanism launched. Chay felt like she had been fired out of a cannon. She could feel her teeth rattling as strong g-forces fulled her backward. Her hair was matted against her scalp as she was pushed into the capsule's leather interior.

She was on her way to Pentagram City.

She was out cold by the ten minute mark.

"We can no longer tolerate your counter-revolutionary thought!"

"But I have served the cause faithfully! I have done everything for my country!"

The bodies burned everywhere around her. The screams of the dying echoed through the jungle.

"The line has shifted. To keep you is no longer profit."

She shook her head miserably.

"I do not understand, what is happening to..."

There is a loud crack.

The huts around her burned to the ground...

"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!", Chay shouted into the void.

Her head bounced off of the capsule's roof. The leather cushioning barely kept her skull from rattling.

She experimentally moved her various fingers and joints. All accounted for. Her arms and legs seemed to also still be intact.

There did seem to be this weird ringing in her ears, but that was already fading.

She fumbled around her knees, trying to find her pockets. She pulled out her phone and brought it up to her face. The time said 3:10 PM.

It looked like she would be on time, at the very least. Now she needed to actually get out of this damn thing.

She turned on the phone's flashlight function, searching for a way out. She was hoping that she wouldn't have to literally claw her way out of this thing. Or worse, be trapped in this hermetically sealed tomb for all eternity. Fortunately for her, she found a small red button labeled 'open' right above her knee.

She pressed the button as hard as she could. She really wanted to get out of this fucking thing.

The door slowly slid open...and she was hit in the face with a wave of dust and debris. And a smell. A very foul smell. Like sewage.

It was sewage. The capsule's trajectory must have ended in the city's sewer.

Chay slowly unfolded her limbs, which were numb and prickling as her nerves re-awakened. She poked her head out of the capsule and looked at her surroundings. Yep, it was Pentagram City's sewer system. The floodlights above her head made that very obvious.

She stumbled out of the capsule...and immediately felt the ground give way beneath her as she face-planted into slimy concrete.

She didn't even cry out or act surprised. She almost expected to fall into shit.

She braced her hands against the wall as she slowly got up, her feet slipping slightly on the wet ground beneath her.

She looked up above her head, and found the capsule she had just tumbled out of.

It was ten feet in the air, lodged into a sewer wall. She could see water trickling from where the capsule had impacted. This part of the Tube system in Pentagram City must have crossed over with the city's sewers, or maybe had been integrated into it some time ago.

She looked down at her phone. Fortunately, it hadn't cracked from the fall. She felt around her pockets, checking to see if her other meager possessions were still with her.

Revolver, wallet, gloves, keys to her flat...all accounted for.

The flashlight that Lucius had given her, unfortunately, was no longer functioning. Her phone would serve as an adequate replacement...as long as the battery lasted.

Which reminded her: She still needed to get to the surface. She swore she could see things slithering around in the sewage, hastily gobbling up any nutrition they could get from the sewage water's contents.

She looked around for an exit. The only one she could see was a ladder that led up to a sewer grate. The red glow of Hell's afternoon flickered between its bars.

She reached into her coat for her gloves and slid them on. She really did not want to touch anything in this place if she didn't have to.

She braced herself against the ladder, and started to climb.

Crol looked up at the tall ghoul.

"You have any miso?", she asked.

He fumbled around the pots on his soup cart. The girl had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, as if rising directly out of the pavement. One minute the squat green kobold-demon was rolling down 66th street towards the weed den getting ready for the munchy rush, and then suddenly this chick sprouted out of the ground, smelling like she'd taken a dip in sewer water.

He ladled out a bowl of miso and tofu soup and handed it to her. She was clad all in black, wearing gloves, and had a checkered scarf wrapped around her face. The only thing he could see were a pair of yellow eyes, looking at him like she wanted to be anywhere else.

She handed him cash in return.

"One more thing." She stirred the bowl with her plastic spoon. "Which part of the Pentagram is this place?"

"...You a recent arrival?", Crol asked her quizzically.

"In a manner of speaking.", she replied gruffly. "Now which part? I'm on the clock here."

Crol rubbed his chin. Hmmm...maybe I can get something out of this after all.

The ghoul kept stirring her soup. Crol had an easy mark.

"Well, I could tell you...", he said slyly. "But what are you going to do for..."

He stopped talking when he saw the gun in his face.

"I'm in no mood. Now tell me." She grumbled.

"The west side! You're on the west side, I swear!", he cried. The little green Sinner trembled.

She re-holstered the pistol. Crol sighed in relief. He wasn't looking to have to deal with a bullet wound today.

She gruffly nodded and pulled out a city map from her coat and unfolded it.

"And this street is...?"

"Sixty sixth!", Crol replied quickly. This bitch was nuts.

"Mhmm...so the studio is this way...". She strolled away from him, spooning soup into what he guessed was her mouth.

Not even a 'Thank You'.

"The fuck is Hell coming to?", he asked himself.

It started to rain.

Chay hucked the empty soup bowl into a nearby garbage can. She dabbed the sides of her mouth with her scarf as she ducked out from underneath the awning she was using to hide from the rain. The sky was beginning to clear up.

That sudden rainstorm had come on quite unexpectedly. She'd heard that the weather in Pentagram City could be unusually unpredictable. She thought that maybe it had something to do with all of the Overlords being collected in one general area (including the royal family). Having that amount of power swirling around each other must have done crazy shit to the city's eco-system. Quite appropriate, if you thought about it. Hell itself was always in flux, with entire areas ripping themselves out of the ground and then re-settling in other places, sometimes hundreds of miles away.

Chay unwrapped her scarf from around her face and tied it around her neck. It was getting a bit humid after the rainstorm. The air was getting thick and the streets were getting steamy.

Well, at least she wouldn't stick of sewage anymore.

She looked down the street. She could see a number of tall buildings in the distance. She needed to get a better look. There was a decrepit apartment building nearby. Maybe they had a fire escape...

As she rounded the corner into the nearby alley, she saw a series of posters hastily glued to a wall, along with a bunch of random graffiti. They were all frayed and faded, and had obviously been there for sometime.

One was a simple image of a rainbow, with words emblazoned in large black font: COMING SOON, THE HAPPY HOTEL! Register NOW! It was barely legible underneath the graffiti sprayed over it: a single grinning eye with an x in the middle, the phrase "Always Chasing Rainbows", an ouroboros with the Big Dipper in the center, and a crudely drawn Imp with an enormous penis.

Chay tried to jog her memory. The 'Happy Hotel'. She remembered hearing about such an establishment, shortly after the end of the most recent Cleansing. It was some kind of public housing effort supported by a member of the royal family (she wanted to say either the Queen or her daughter). The opening had apparently been less than spectacular, and had largely been overshadowed by the turf war that had broken out around the same time. Of course, that was months ago, so perhaps there had been time for turnaround?

But it was the second poster that really got her attention.

It showed what appeared to be a large circus tent, engulfed in flames, with numerous demonic and misshapen figures either burning in the inferno, or fleeing in terror. Extending from the top of the Big Top was a jacketed figure with enormous deer antlers, a pair of blank voids that suggested eyes...and an enormous, toothy and sinister smile.

The image was stark and terrifying, yet masterful in composition.

And around the image were the words scratched out in some maddened hand: BEWARE ! HIM! THE RADIO DEMON!

She had heard people tell stories of encounters with this individual...ones that had been fortunate enough to survive, that is. Some charming, grinning psychopath who could bend space and time to his every whim. The less she thought about him, the better.

Next to the two posters was a fire escape ladder, already lowered (or already broken, anyway). It led up a few stories to the top of the building, offering an adequate view of the cityscape.

She steadied herself on the first rung. The ladder was rusty, but appeared to still be solid. She tentatively climbed up to the next rung. And then another. And then yet another. Eventually, against everything that could go wrong, she reached the top rung and scrambled onto the roof.

She looked out in the distance. Amidst the haphazard forest of skyscrapers and underneath the white pentagram in the sky, she could see a building painted in gaudy velvet and silver. The enormous likeness of a red demoness hung off the side of it, dressed in fish-nets and a black dress, and her tail illuminated with LED lights. On top of the building were the words PORN STUDIOS, also illuminated with a large pair of red lips in a permanent O-face in the center.

There was her destination.

She checked her phone. It said 3:45 PM.

She had roughly fifteen minutes to make her appointment.

She was going to have to take the short cut...

Chay wrapped her scarf tightly around her neck.

She squared her footing.

And then she jumped to the neighboring roof.

She had expected some kind of tacky gilded door, ringed with perverse sculptures and torches.

Instead, she got an unassuming automatic sliding door. One that actually had a crack in one of the panes of glass. There was something leaking out from underneath it. Something red and with the consistency of red rum punch. She gingerly stepped over it as she entered the building.

She had expected some grotesque sculptures of muscular demons urinating in a fountain, and big-breasted harlots cavorting with every imaginable Hell-dwelling being.

That, she ended getting right. Right down to the last detail.

In fact, the very first thing that once encountered when entering the interior of Porn Studios was an enormous golden statue, featuring a tall insectoid demon wearing heart-shaped glasses, a tall hat with a striped band, a fur coat dotted with hearts, and several unidentifiable demons of various genders lustily pawing at his groin.

She figured as much. Valentino must have had a massive ego, if not also being extremely insecure.

Then there was the smell. A sickly sweet cinnamon that tried to cover up the scent of sweat and bodily fluids. Like someone trying to spray air freshener in a whorehouse.

"Mrs. Ong? Is that you?"

The receptionist behind the desk was a male demon, a cyclopic squid with a pair of tentacles for arms and wearing a pink coat and black tie. He had a headpiece plugged into his ear and thumbing through papers on a clipboard.

Chay nodded. "Yes, that's me. I believe I'm on time?"

As she got closer, she could see that the guy was sweating heavily, with obvious sweat stains forming underneath his 'arms'. He fiddled with his earpiece as he thumbed through more papers.

"Yes ma'am, you are on time. Barely."

He sighed a bit, as if he had just unloaded an enormous weight from his shoulders.

"My boss has been asking about you incessantly for the last half hour. He usually expects his potential employers to be here thirty minutes in advance."

Chay grumbled underneath her breath.

"What was that, ma'am?"

"...Nothing. Let's just get this over with."

"Very good. Follow me if you will..."

Chay padded behind the receptionist up a pair of spiral stairs and through a pair of elevator doors (which she found completely unnecessary and ass-backwards, but this was Valentino's place). The elevator's interior was carpeted with faux-furs and velvet lining. No muzak to tolerate, at least. Thank karma for small fortunes.

"Now Ms. Ong, if I may briefly have your attention..."

Chay glared at him. "Yes?"

"Ahem, quite. Now, Ms. Ong, your services came highly recommended from my boss's associates, so he expects a certain degree of decorum, if you will. Please only speak when spoken to, and remember to refer to him as 'Sir'. Mr Valentino is used to respect from his potential employees, and he is already in a bit of a foul mood as it is."

The elevator doors dinged open. Chay followed him down a velvet hallway, lined with doors and encased posters with such titles as "Rapacious Imps" and "Lizard Lusts for Armpits". From behind the doors she could hear wet slapping sounds, cries of passion...and a few terrified screams.

"Remember to be courteous," he continued. "If Mr. Valentino offers you anything to eat or drink, please accept it. He does not like to be snubbed for his generosity".

Pretty sure he drugged most of it already, she thought to herself.

"Ah, we're here."

They stopped in front of an enormous door that was covered in flashing LED lights. The patterns they showed constantly shifted and changed: First there was a pair of breasts, then a penis, then a penis entering some orifice or other, and then flashing hearts. Above the door was emblazoned the words: VALENTINO, PRESIDENT & CEO.

The receptionist spoke into his earpiece and nodded.

"Yes, they are ready for you now. Mr. Valentino awaits you on the other side of these doors."

Chay took a steady breath. The cinnamon smell was getting stronger...and she could feel her skin crawling.

"I shall await you at the end of your appointment. Do not disappoint my boss."

The receptionist turned and walked back to the elevator. The doors slid shut in front of him.

She was alone. Nothing between her and one of Hell's most powerful figures except for this light-studded door.

The doors began to creak open.

At this point the smell was so strong that her eyes were beginning to water...and when your eyes were as sunken in as hers were, that could be a problem.

There was something else to...something that both excited and aroused her, and yet screamed at her to run away, to flee, to jump out of the window if she had to...

And the object of that feeling -the one causing it- was sitting right in front of her.

Valentino was as imposing in person as was his sculpture in the lobby. He was an insectoid demon, a louse. He was enormous, at least twelve feet tall. His sinister eyes were hidden behind his heart-shaped glasses, and he held an enormous goblet of wine that he casually guzzled from. He was seated on a golden, diamond-studded throne. Waiting beside him were a number of handlers and servants, all of them of various sizes and genders, and all completely nude. He pawed a young Imp woman's bust as she licked the side of his mouth, where some red blood-like substance was oozing from behind his teeth (one of which was gold).

(Well, that answers what the leak at the door was, she thought to herself)

Then he turned to look at Chay.

She suddenly felt naked and vulnerable.

"Chay, baby. You're finally here."

She felt dizzy, like the room was twisting and warping around her.

She tried to steady herself. "Yes sir, that's me. I am Chay Ong, Private Investig-"

"I already know who you are, babe." He stood up from his throne and walked across the room towards her. "I wouldn't have asked for you otherwise." His every step set off an echo that pounded in her ears.

He stopped in front of her and leaned over to meet her gaze. He eyed her up and down, drinking in every bit of her appearance. She wasn't sure if he was looking for some hidden threat, or undressing her with his eyes. His breath stank of sour wine and cologne.

"You do come highly recommended. One of my business partners even asked for you by name when I...called in his favor."

His voice oozed sex and menace. Even the sewer water didn't make her feel this unclean.

"Hmmm...you seem a little tense, dear." He lowered one of his enormous gloved hands onto her shoulders. "You should relax. I promise I won't bite."

Chay cleared her throat. "Ahem. I apologize for imposing sir, but I would like to know about this job you're asking me to do."

"All business, huh?", he replied. "Heh, I kinda like that. Straight to the point it is, then."

Valentino sat back down on his throne and sipped from his goblet. "So I am sure your associate has already given you the info on the...debt that he owes me? I would certainly hope that he's at least that competent."

"Yes, sir. He informed me of the...arrangement you have made with his organization. He is indebted to your generosity and has put me at your disposal."

Good. Try and be as professional as possible. Don't let him think you're absolutely terrified of him.

"You mean how he stuck his dick in my property and then wasted her?"

Okay...that kind of threw her for a loop.

"Yes sir...I suppose that is the summary of it."

"Summary, huh? Oh no, darlin'. There's a lot more to it that just that. That little cocksucker you call a 'partner' not only used and destroyed some of my merchandise, he also took away a very valuable information source! I've lost both profits and dirt because of your pal!"

Chay wanted to shrink into the floor. Him shouting at her made her want to claw her way through the shag carpeting and into the basement, no matter how many floors she would have to dig through.

Valentino sighed deeply and sipped from his goblet. "However...your little friend did inadvertently aid me in my business. I do have one less competitor because of him. That is worth something to me."

Valentino took another sip...and came up empty. He threw his goblet at a nearby handler, hitting her right in the face.

"Daddy needs a refill, bitches!", he cried.

One of the other handlers, a squat green lizard, climbed up onto the arm of his throne and whispered into Valentino's ear.

"Mmm, fantastic. It's prepared then."

Valentino wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his furcoat. "Fine then, the task I have prepared for you..."

The lizard walked over to Chay and handed her two photographs. One was a photo of a female Sinner, a felinoid-demon with striped cherry-blonde hair, curled whiskers and zebra stripes all over her well-endowed curves. The other photo was of a male Sinner, a foppish male green snake-demon wearing faux-military get-up, with a thorny rose on his lapel and a raven's feather lodged into an officer's cap.

"The gentleman you see playing soldier there is Profera, one of my procurers. Three weeks ago I sent him out on a tip we had received about some potential competition. We have not heard anything from him since, and any information he may have obtained disappeared with him."

Chay nodded. "You think he might have betrayed you?"

Valentino scratched his jaw. "That is a possibility that I have considered. However, Profera has worked for me for several decades. He has never gone back on our arrangement, and he knows what I would do if he stabbed me in the back."

Chay looked at the other photograph. "I assume the woman is..."

"Merchandise, yes. A recent acquisition."

Chay eyed the picture. She couldn't see any bruises or track marks on her, so 'recent' must have meant very recent.

"She disappeared shortly after Profera. She was due for a photo-shoot and then bailed on us. Lost me money and fucked the schedule in the process. One of my employees brought it to my attention." He visibly tensed, as if he wanted to bite the air. "He claims that she was snatched off of the street during her shift. I do not tolerate anyone stealing my property."

Valentino's eyes narrowed behind his shades. "I've lost enough property already to that clown-faced cunt and her fucking hotel. I do not intend on losing any more if I can do something about it."

The room filled with venomous menace.

"You want me to find them, then?", Chay asked.

"They are a means to an end, babe." Valentino stood up from his throne. "No, your task is a bit more complicated than that. This is as much a job of identification as it is retrieval."

Valentino reached into his furcoat and produced a long, thin cigarette. He bent down as one of the handlers struck a match and lit it for him.

"Thanks, gorg." He smacked the handler on her ass as she walked away.

"Those two are your leads. Your job is to track down their whereabouts, and find out who or what is the source of their disappearance. My personal hunch is that it's another person trying to poke in on my territory."

Chay pocketed the photos. "What am I to do then?"

Valentino snapped his fingers. One of the handlers emerged with a small golden case. She opened the case to reveal a bullet.

"That is a 7mm jacketed hollowpoint bullet. Do you see the tip?"

Chay picked up the bullet and looked at it closely.

"...It's the same material used by the Exterminators.", Chay replied.

"Expensive as fuck, but yes. That is what it is."

So this wasn't just going to be a missing persons case.

"You want me to use this on whoever is responsible?", she asked.

"If it is something that can in fact be shot, then yes." Valentino sat back down. The female handler from before returned with his goblet, now refilled. "It's already the perfect caliber for your revolver."

Wait...

"How did you..." She fished around in her pockets. The gun was gone.

"Don't worry. My associate at the front desk has your gun. You didn't think I'd let you in here with it, did you?"

Chay grumbled as she pocketed the bullet. She hoped he didn't hear it.

"What was that, babe?"

...He heard.

"Mr. Valentino, sir...you should know that I generally am not in the business of assassination."

Valentino jumped out of his seat and grabbed her by the throat. He lifted her completely off off the floor and to eye level, leaving Chay to dangle six feet off of the ground.

"And I am not usually in the business of having to kowtow to a fucking Imp into searching for my property! You and all of those little red ass-munchers at the ILF still walk around only because I haven't decided to cut off your fucking legs!" His angry gaze bore a hole into her skull.

"OK, fine! I get it!". She shouted as red wine-flecked spittle angrily sprayed her in the face.

Valentino let go. Chay dropped back down to the floor, rubbing her neck beneath her scarf.

"Good. Very good." He walked over to a nearby window, peering out at the ruddy glow falling over Pentagram City. Like nothing had happened. "Don't worry, darlin'. You'll be handsomely compensated, I assure you."

The lizard handler walked over to her with a briefcase. He opened it up and...

Whoa.

That was a lot of money. A lot.

"But what do you want me to do if I find...well...?"

"Profera is a loose end. ", he replied. "If you can convince him to come back, then that will be the end of it. If not...well, simply inform me on his location." Valentino's grin stretched up to his ears. "I'll handle it from there."

"And the girl...?"

"Yes...the merchandise. If she is still alive and usable, then return her to me. If not..." Valentino shrugged his shoulders. "Her loyalty is all I care about."

"You don't seem to want her back that badly..."

"She's one of many, babe. I lost a lot of merchandise after the last Cleansing." Valentino giggled under his breath. "But this is Hell. I can get plenty more."

Chay eyed the cash. It was enough for a proper office. A proper office building. And plenty to spare.

Chay looked up at Valentino and nodded.

"I'll take the job."

"Very good! I knew you wouldn't let me down!"

The lizard slammed the briefcase shut with a loud snap.

"I mentioned that one of my employees was the one who brought this to my attention. He will be the one to give you further information. He'll meet you just outside the building."

"Is he to be trusted, sir?"

"Considering that he was the one who incessantly pestered me about it for the last week...yes, I believe he is quite trustworthy." Valentino returned to his seat and grabbed his goblet. "I wish you luck in your search, Ms. Ong."

The door behind her began to creak open again. The receptionist was waiting on the other side. Chay slowly strolled through the doors, ready to quit this suffocating vice den.

"Oh, and Mrs. Ong?"

Chay turned around.

"I am risking a lot by hiring an outside contractor here. I am, against my better judgement, paying an unknown asset to carry out a job for me, in return for sparing someone I should have had castrated months ago."

"Don't fuck me on this, Ong."

The doors creaked shut.

Chay bent over and took a deep breath. She felt like she had been drained of all of her energy. That meeting must have been the single most suffocating experience in her afterlife.

"Ahem, Ms. Ong? If you will follow me, please...

Chay followed the receptionist back into the elevator. She leaned against the elevator wall, trying to steady herself.

"I will return your firearm to you at the door. I must also repeat what Mr. Valentino said earlier: He does not usually hire outside sources for jobs he could usually do himself. He has put a lot of trust into you. You would do well to keep that in mind."

The doors dinged open at the ground floor. Chay followed the receptionist out of the elevator and down the staircase.

Chay was curious. "Did you know Mr. Profera and..."

"...the girl? Yes, I knew them."

"Do you think they would run away? Betray your boss?"

The receptionist scratched his chin with his tentacle. "Mr. Profera? I highly doubt it. He thinks very highly of himself, but he also values loyalty above all other things."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, very much so. He views himself as some kind of warrior poet. Like a knight of old. He regards his reputation as highly as Mr. Valentino. It would be very much against his character to do otherwise."

"What about the girl?"

"Her I don't know. She was a recent gain. But merchandise is merchandise, and it can be replaced."

Chay was really starting to get sick of hearing that.

The receptionist returned to his desk and opened a drawer. "I will now return your property to you." He reached into the drawer and produced her gun, lovingly wrapped in a piece of velvet linen.

He also handed her...her phone? When the fuck did he...

"Security purposes, ma'am", the Receptionist replied like he was reading her thoughts. "All photography here is strictly for commercial purposes. Mr. Valentino doesn't tolerate unsolicited pictures."

Chay turned the phone on. The battery was fully charged. The gun was also immaculate, even freshly polished and cleaned.

"Now then, Ms. Ong. Your contact will be meeting you outside. Do you require any additional effects before you leave?

She pocketed the gun, feeling it's weight in her hand.

"No, I don't believe I will."

"Very good, then. I wish you luck in your search. If you require any further information after the fact, simply contact me. I've taken the liberty of putting myself in your contacts, so you will have no trouble telephoning me as needed."

Chay simply shook her head. At this point she wouldn't be surprised if he had also put his Sinder profile in there as well.

The receptionist nodded. "Good day to you, then". He sat back down and began thumbing through pages on his clipboard.

Chay signed and walked out of the building. Dusk was falling over Hell, and the red glow of Hell's sky was darkening into a wine-dark sea. The streetlights were beginning to flicker on, and she could see some of Valentino's employees already cruising the streets for potential customers.

Including, it seemed, her contact.

"Well fuck me sideways, Look who just crawled outta the fuckin' grave!"

Hell is filled with an innumerable amount of nameless and random faces. Sinners great and small. Those who had been major deals in life, but reduced to mere mooks in death. Those who had been petty crooks when they breathed their last, but had managed to carve out significant empires in the infernos of Hell's society.

All of them came and faded, disappearing into memory as they were either cleansed, or simply faded into the aether, until they too were erased at the point of an Exterminator's spear.

So many Sinners, Imps and others who came and went, never to be recognized.

But everybody knew Angel Dust.

The white spider-demon was leaning against a light pole, smoking a cigarette like he had just stepped out of an American noir movie (or one of the innumerable porn parodies of such, which he probably starred in at least once.). He was wearing a pink and white striped shirt with a hot pink collar, a black and purple bowtie, a black choker, a pair of ass-hugging shorts above a pair of thigh-high boots, and two pairs of hot pink gloves over his (four?) hands. One of his eyes was completely black. He also had a gold tooth (kind of like his boss). And also just like Valentino, Angel Dust towered over her, although he was quite a bit shorter than his boss, only standing at about nine feet (perhaps less without the boots).

-And did he have...boobs?

"So I'mma guess yer Chay, yeah? The chick my boss hired to find Shakie?" He bent down to get a look at her.

-Whoa... He's kinda cute...

"Hellooooooo, Earth to Miss Bones! You tweaking or somethin?"

-Oh, right. This is supposed to be a conversation.

She cleared her throat. "Ahem, yes. My name is Chay Ong, private investigator. Your employer just hired me."

"Yeah, yeah...perfect." He looked back at the Porn Studios, then bent down to her ear-level.

"Has he still got that tacky-looking throne in there?", he whispered. "I haven't been back in his office in a few months."

-Wait...he hadn't been there?

"Wait a second, He told me that you worked for him."

"Oh, yeah. I work for him alright, but I sure as fuck don't live with him anymore." He puffed on his cigarette contemptuously. "And frankly, I think I was a dumbass for sticking with him as long as I did. I mean, have you seen how fuckin' filthy that place is? I bet there was a leak at the door, wasn't there?"

He threw his cigarette onto the sidewalk and stepped it out. "Naw, I moved out a few months ago. I got a better place now. No rent to pay, either! Anyway..."

He turned back to face her. "Now about Shakie..."

"Wait, Shakie...is that the name of the girl?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Wait, he didn't tell you who she...oh, yeah. Of course. Of course he didn't fuckin' tell you her name." He smacked his forehead with a gloved palm. "Lemme guess, he called her 'merchandise', amirite?"

Chay nodded. "Yes, that's how the conversation went. He seems rather contemptuous of his employees."

"Baby, you don't know the half of it! I'm surprised he rubs enough brain-cells together to remember my name!".

He sighed deeply, tapping his forehead.

"Her name is Shakie. And she's my gal pal."

That was strange. Chay had never met a Sinner who had showed anykind of empathy for someone other than themselves.

"Ok then...her name is Shakie. Good to know." She pulled out her phone and fingered through to the audio recording app. "And how long have you known her?"

"Wait...not here. Follow me across the street...". Angel motioned for her to follow him to the other side of the road, where there was a greasy diner...and a vending machine with labels like 'krokodil' and 'heroin'.

Angel inserted some change and hit the button labeled 'whippit'. A small orange canister rolled out from the machine's chute. He twisted off the canister's top and inhaled the nitrous fumes that rushed out.

"Ooooooh fuck that's the shit...". His head slightly lolled back, his eyes turning a light shade of red before vigorously shaking his head.

"Yeah, that's what daddy needed...Alright, toots! Ask away!"

"Ummmm..."

"What? You want some to? 'Fraid I emptied that one out, doll. You're gonna need to get your own fix..."

-Whoa...he's kind of fucking annoying...

"Oh, no. No thank you. I try to stay away from the harder stuff. Anyway...". Chay reached into her pocket and took out the photos of Profera and Shakie. She then returned to her phone, and pressed the record button.

"Ok, Angel Dust. Witness to the kidnapping and first lead. Interview starting...now".

Chay took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts and getting into her professional mode.

"Alright, Angel. You saw the victim being kidnapped, is that correct?"

"That's puttin' it lightly. She wasn't so much 'kidnapped' as she was 'punched in the stomach and shoved into the back of a sketchy van'. The whole thing happened so fuckin fast, to."

"Did you get a good look at the guys who took her?"

"Not a good one. All of them were wearing this fruity get-up with these masks and these stupid black uniforms...Oh! But I do remember that weird symbol they were all sportin!"

-Fruity? Wow, he's one to talk...

"What symbol would that be?"

"It was a...what do you call it...that thing where it's a snake that eatin' it's own tail? Like in a circle or some shit?"

"You mean an Ouroboros?"

"Yeah, that thing! And there was this red circle inside of it with all of these little stars in it."

-Stars...this sounds vaguely familiar...

"Stars? Like a constellation?"

"Fuck if I know. I don't go for that card-reader bullshit."

-Hmmm, interesting. An organization with an identifying marker...

"You think it may have been a gang or something?"

"Nope. Not any gang I've seen. And even if they were, they wouldn't last long here. This is Cherri's turf, and the last guy who tried to take it got his ass handed to him. Literally!". Angel cackled to himself, apparently really impressed with his own joke.

"I wouldn't know. I live in Imp City."

"Seriously? It was all over the fuckin' news! I was even on there...oh fuck it, whatever."

Angel sighed. "Anyway, the point was I didn't recognize 'em".

Chay nodded. "Do you know of anyone who would want to kidnap Shakie?"

Angel actually got really quiet for a moment. Serious, even.

"Honestly? Like, honest injun'? I thought my boss had snatched her at first."

"You thought Valentino had taken her? But wasn't she working for him in the first place?"

"Yeah, she was, but..."

Angel looked over at the Studios across the street, then swallowed, like he had a lump in his throat.

"Look, you wanna know why I wanted us to get across the street from that place?"

"Because you wanted a hit?"

"No...well, I mean yeah. But that wasn't the only reason."

Angel wiped his forehead. He appeared to be sweating rather heavily.

"The reason is...because Shakie was thinking of gettin' out of that place and movin' in with me."

Okay...that was definitely unexpected.

"...I think you need to explain."

"Yeah...yeah, sure. Look, remember when I told you I had another place now? Rent free and all that shit? Well, it's not just any place. It's this hotel and...well, look it's complicated, but all you need to know is that, among other things, the hotel is for demons like me and Shakie who want to get away from people like Val and...well, get cleaned up."

Holy shit. Angel Dust was going clean?

"So, Shakie was trying to get away from Val?"

"She's not the first. There's me, of course. But there's been a dozen or so who came after."

"And Val doesn't try to take them back?"

"Oh, I'm sure he's tried. But Val can only do so much, especially against someone whose got royal protection and..." Angel bent down and whispered in her ear "There's also the co-owner. You really don't wanna piss off that guy, no matter how fuckin' handsome he is."

Angel stood back up. "Anyway, I had to beg Val to do something about it. Once he realized it might be potential competition, he sent out Soldier Boy to track him down. And since he's hired you, I'm gonna guess that Profera is fuckin' MIA."

-Right, Profera...

"What do you think of Mr. Profera?"

"Hmmm...what do I think of Profera...I think I could summarize him as 'obnoxious self-absorbed twat'."

"You don't like him?"

"Like him? He annoys the fuck outta me! He's so fucking pretentious, thinking he's some kind of great poet or somethin', and wanting to put on these fuckin' concerts with the girls, trying to put on some opera or some shit.'

He did appear rather foppish in the photo. It appeared that it went a bit deeper than that.

"And now he's fucked off to who knows where. Wouldn't be surprised if he found another gig. Someone else to play the Shining Knight for."

"So you think he would betray Valentino? Valentino thought otherwise."

"Well, 'betray' wouldn't be quite the word I'd use. Profera is an insufferable shitheel, but he does believe in loyalty above all else. If he were to betray Val, he'd have to have done it because he found somebody else to follow."

Suddenly, there was a beeping sound. Angel reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his phone.

"Hold on, I'm gettin' a text."

Angel's eyes scanned his phone.

"Fuck...it's gotten that late?"

Angel stuck the phone back into his shirt.

"Alright, look...I gotta bounce but..."

Angel sighed and lowered his gloved hands onto her shoulders.

"Look, Shakie is a good kid...I mean, good as far as this place's standards are concerned...anyway, she doesn't deserve the shit that Val has been doin' to her."

Angel bent down and got to her eye-level. His eyes actually appeared to tear up.

"If you find her, I'm beggin ya...Don't give her back to Val. I can get her out of that place, and there's plenty of folks over at the hotel who are waitin' for her."

Crol rolled his soup cart up the street, towards West Side's red light district.

Considering how many decades he'd been stuck in Hell, he'd always found the idea that Pentagram City had a 'red light district' in the first place to be unbelievably funny. This city was an absolute cesspool of vice and sin by it's very nature, constantly in flux between the turf wars, the yearly Cleansings, and the random whims of Hell's upper-crust. From the best he could guess, the Sex Industry must have gravitated to this part of town purely due to Valentino's influence, slowly drawing it to himself the same way a lump of shit drew a crowd of flies.

"Kimchi?"

Wait...was that...

Yep. It was.

The same ghoul from earlier that day was in front of him yet again, this time blocking his way down the street.

"Oh, fuckin' A. It's you again."

"Kimchi stew. You got any?"

"You know, it wouldn't hurt you to at least say please."

"You tried to con me earlier. I already fucking hate you. Kimchi?"

Crol sighed to himself. He popped open one of the pots on his cart, with fumes from a pot of kimchi stew making his eyes water.

"You want any tofu?"

"No tofu necessary."

Crol shook his head as he ladled the stew into a bowl, handing it to the ghoul.

"You know, I don't know what Hell's come to. Used to be you could deal with honest assholes who at least were willing to give you a handshake and a smile before they shanked ya. These new demons ain't got no class..."

"Not interested."

"Hey, fuck you! It's bad enough I had to deal with that bullshit from Pentious and Cherri Bomb in their fuckin' turf war, but then I gotta deal with these fuckin' Zoning laws and nearly get my ass run over by those assholes in that van..."

-Wait, did he just say something about a van?

"Um...excuse me."

"The fuck? Were you actually just polite there?

Chay signed and unwrapped her scarf from her face, stuffing it under her arm as she spooned bits of kimchi and spicy broth into her grinning maw.

"Whoa...no wonder you walk around looking like a fuckin' ninja."

"The van. You mentioned a van, right?"

What was with this chick? First she's a complete cunt, and now she wants to play nice?

"Oh...yeah. The van. I tell ya, it damn near plowed into me a couple of weeks ago."

The ghoul reached into her jacket and pulled out her phone.

"I should introduce myself properly. My name is Chay Ong. I'm a private investigator whose recently been hired by Valentino."

Crol's blood dropped a few degrees below freezing.

"Wait...you're working for him?"

"Calm down. I'm just an outside contractor. He hired me to find some missing people, among some other things. You mentioned something about a van?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, the van. Fucker nearly ran my-"

"Yes, yes. We've established that you were almost hit by the van. Can you tell me when this was?"

"It was a couple of weeks ago."

"You work this part of the city often?"

"Not until recently. I only started working here on the West Side about a few months ago. I figured that after the Cleansing, I might have better business here since this side was hit particularly bad. I tell ya, first week or so I was dodging random organs on the street left and right. Then there was that turf war...It had mostly died down by the time I got here, but they had people still shooting at each other for quite a while after. You ever had to clean Eggboi guts off of a cart wheel before? That shit rusts."

"Do you know who was driving the van?"

"I'm gonna guess it was those Snake assholes. I thought they were some of Cherri's boys at first, but these guys are more...I don't know, orderly? Like they've actually been trained or something. They've been going around the city beating up random Sinners that looked at em funny. Reminds me of when I was in Korea..."

"What do you mean by 'Snakes'? Were they all snake-demons?"

"Naw, nothing like that. These guys were all kinds of demons. I call em Snakes because they were all wearing this snake badge on their shirts."

-Snake badge...A snake badge just like...

"This badge...was it like a snake eating it's tail? Like in a circle?"

"Yup, that bullshit. It was wrapped around this red circle, and the circle had a Big Dipper in the middle. They also wear these black shirts...and these masks..."

The timeline was starting to line up a little. It appeared that this group, whoever they were, had already been attempting to establish a presence in Pentagram City for some time. Furthermore, they had a uniformed look and identity, as well as a plan of action.

She was suddenly having some uncomfortable flashbacks of her previous existence.

"You said they act like they're trained? Like military?"

"Well, paramilitary at least. Like, this isn't just some random bunch of goons. These guys have a process they follow."

"How would you know this in the first place?", Chay asked.

"Hey, I served in Korea! Fifth Air Force! I know drilling when I see it. They don't act like some regular street gang. They act like shock troopers."

Chay lifted up her bowl and drank some of the fiery kimchi broth. She shivered a bit as the heat from the peppers warmed her throat.

"Do they carry any weapons?", she asked.

"Just truncheons and knives, mostly. I haven't seen them with any guns."

"No guns? Really?"

"Nope, none. Not even a pistol. Doesn't seem to phase them though."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that they don't care. I've seen them rush a group of goons that were armed to the teeth with munitions and firing away, and they were still actively charging into them like they were rushing a trench."

There was a buzzing sound coming from Crol's pants. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his hellphone.

"Fuck! That late already? Missed the post-coitus rush. Goddammit..."

Chay looked up at the sky. The pentagram moon was already out, and she could also see the Heaven star next to it. Pentagram City was pretty hazardous during the day, but it was particularly deadly at night.

Crol reached underneath the cart and turned off the heat-burners. He secured the metal tops on his pots, making sure they were fastened nice and tight to prevent spillage.

"Um, hey...what's your name?"

The kobold demon pulled down the shutters on the cart, closing them nice and tight.

"Crol. My name's Crol."

"Nice to meet you. Say, Crol...do you know where I could stay the night?"

Crol stared up at her. "Unless you're planning on hiding in a dumpster for the night, you're only chance is either the Hotel, or an abandoned shack."

Chay sighed audibly. "Goddammit..."

Crol looked Chay over. Now that he thought about it...other than the face, she wasn't that bad looking. The black shirt and trousers combo wasn't exactly form-fitting or anything, but he could tell from her arms that she had a bit of muscle on her.

"Hmm...you know, I might be able to let ya spend the nigth at my place if you want."

Chay looked down at the kobold-demon. She wasn't exactly liking where this was going...

"I'm guessing you're not doing this for free, are you?"

"Now now, don't be like that. I'm not saying it's what's gonna happen...but, you know, if things work out that way..."

"Crol, I may not have been down here as long as you have, but I'm not stupid."

"Look, it's my offer. Take it or leave it."

Chay looked back up at the sky. She could hear a howling in the distance...and gunfire.

"Fine. Where do you live?"

Crol clapped his hands together. "Oh ho ho, you got yourself a deal girl!"

"Hey! I have not decided on anything! We'll discuss it. Later. Maybe. Now where do you live?"

Crol walked over to the side of the cart, fumbling with a key ring.

"Oh, I live in the district towards the center of town."

"That far? We walking or something?"

The kobold-demon grinned as he kicked the side of the cart. A hidden compartment opened up from the cart's front...and out sprung the front wheel, seat and compartment of a scooter, complete with handlebars.

"Seat's kinda small, but I think you'll manage. Just be careful not to touch the motor. That's how I power the burners."

Chay was still picking bugs off of her scarf when they got to Crol's apartment. Crol was swinging his key-ring around his finger.

"So small warning: I keep a lot of my ingredients in here, so it's a little packed..."

The door to his apartment swung open. It was pitch-black inside.

"Hold on, I gotta get the light switch..." He walked into the inky blackness. Chay could hear rustling and climbing sounds before the lights flickered on.

He wasn't kidding about the 'packed' part.

On the far wall was an array of shelves, packed with large jars of pickled produce: Tomatoes, onions, carrots, cucumbers, and peppers were all neatly packed against each other. There was also an array of mustards, sauces, and other condiments, and below that was a mixture of cookbooks. All were positioned next to an open window, which was arrayed with a metal screen. Near the shelves was an enormous red and white box, plugged into an outlet in the wall.

"You have a kimchi refrigerator?"

"Pretty snazzy, right? That's where the kimchi for your stew came from. You were lucky you got it when you did, 'cuz I only got one more jar in there."

She couldn't believe that she was actually jealous. This guy lived in a quality three-room apartment while selling soup from a cart. Meanwhile she lived in a bombed-out one-roomer without a proper bathroom or cabinets. Granted, the conditions in Imp City were fairly dystopian on a good day...but somehow this seemed especially unfair.

"How the fuck have you managed to afford this?"

Crol sat down on his sofa (because of course he has a fucking sofa, Chay moaned).

"Lots and lots of old fashioned hard work!"

Chay looked at the kobold-demon incredulously. "Seriously?"

"Fuck no! I got this because the previous tenant got shanked by an Exterminator. I still had to blow the landlord, though. Speaking of which..."

Crol began eyeing Chay up and down, licking his scaley lips.

"Stop that."

"Hey, you haven't said no yet. That's still an open invitation in my book."

Chay shook her head. "Can I at least use your shower first?"

"Go ahead. Just don't use up all of the hot water."

Chay audibly sighed. She unwrapped her scarf from around her face as she walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Crol hopped off the couch and went over to his kimchi fridge. He popped open the top and dug around inside, emerging with a wine bottle and some glasses. And a whiff of fermenting cabbage.

"Phew!, that shit is funky!"

He jogged back over to his sofa and popped the top of the bottle. It took both hands for him to pour his drink into his shot glass.

Meanwhile, Chay was still staring at herself in Crol's bathroom mirror. She couldn't believe how grody she actually looked. Not the fact that she was a walking skull, but the fact that she had allowed so much dirt and grime to collect in her eyes and nose-cavity. Now that she thought about it, it must have been months since she'd been able to properly bathe.

She pulled her shirt over her head and threw it in the corner. Her pants, shoes and underwear followed. She reached into the shower and turned on the water.

The spray from the showerhead was pleasantly mild. She had forgotten how luxurious a good shower could be. She could feel several weeks of dust and grime slough off of her. Tired muscles began to feel alive again. Tired nerves began to feel alive again.

A lot of things were feeling alive again.

...Oh no.

Her arm shot out in front of her in a desperate big to steady herself. She knew what this feeling was.

It was the Hunger. The desire. The curse of her karmic existence. The absolute ache to consume. She had been able to keep it dormant for several months, partly through her already Spartan existence in Imp City.

And it had mader her careless.

She had been able to remain stable and to ignore the gnawing aches in her solely due to being denied so many basic luxuries, with her strongest indulgence being the hot chilies in her morning rice porridge. But she had allowed herself to become complacent with the mild comforts of this apartment.

The jealousy she felt should have been her first warning. But she had denied herself for so long that she crumbled under the very first sign of possible comfort.

She was going to need to get this under control, and quick.

Crol was drinking directly from the bottle when the bathroom door swing open.

The ghoul named Chay came stumbling out, naked and dripping wet.

Crol raised his eyebrows.

He had been right, she wasn't too bad looking underneath all of that black.

"Um...Chay, you OK there?"

She walked slowly towards him, each step shakey and uncertain, like she was fighting against something inside of her.

She grabbed the little kobold-demon by his shirt collor and slowly lifted him up.

"Bed. You have one?", she asked.

"Um...yes. Yes I do."

She stared directly into Crol's eyes. Her pupils were now pinpricks, and her corpse-like skin was flushed.

"Need it."

Her toothy maw opened up. A long green tongue snaked out as she licked his scaley neck.

"Um...OK. It's through that door over there..." He pointed to the door next to his sofa.

She slowly dragged him over to his bedroom, and kicked the door end.

"Chay, my dear...are you sure you're OK? Should I call a-"

"Shut up.", she grunted as she kissed him.

(End of Part A)