Love is a Corpse Falling Down a Hole

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"You're doing great," Lucifer encouraged you, kissing your head as he walked by. 

"I would hope that I'm great at petting a huge dog," you snorted, giving Ramsey a good scratch behind her ear. 

"Not what I meant," Lucifer chuckled, picking up one of the younger Hell Hounds. "You've been doing great around the demons."

"Oddly enough, they're not as judgy as your brothers," you said, making Lucifer let out a loud laugh. "It's easy, considering."

"I'll bet," Lucifer laughed, walking up to you as he scratched the tiny Hell Hound's head. "Michael can get really weird about it."

"Locking you in a cage kind of weird?" you joked, making Lucifer roll his eyes.

"Haha. Hold this for me." Lucifer handed you the Hell Hound puppy before giving Ramsey a quick scratch under the chin. "It's almost diner time."

You were in Hell for a day and a half already, spending most of your time practically glued to Lucifer's side. He led you through his day-to-day schedule and showed you some of the less complicated ropes of Hell. Though, Lucifer kept you away from most of the torture chambers. Some demons gave you odd looks while others just avoided your gaze, all of them besides themselves as to why Lucifer was keeping you alive. They would never ask him directly, not unless they wanted to end up a Hell Hound delicacy so every demon has kept their distance save for Meg who has come up to you to run a few reports by Lucifer before vanishing. Things were civil and you were pretty happy, especially when Lucifer brought you to see Ramsey and the other Hell Hounds. 

All of the Hell Hounds had their own kennels spread out around Hell, Lucifer took you down to see Ramsey and her newest litter of pups. Now, Hell Hounds were vastly different from wolves and dogs. For one, it takes two centuries in Hell for Hell Hounds to fully mature, these pups were only thirty years old and they could easily fit in your arms like a baby. As for how they were made, apparently, Ramsey can just pop out a litter of puppies whenever she wants to, it was kinda freaky but you tried not to think about it too much. 

"Let's get some food in your bellies," Lucifer cooed at all the Hell Hounds, snapping his fingers. A door flew open, revealing three human souls. Two of them belonged to some average sinners but the last guy was strikingly familiar. His "iconic" mustache gave him away as you stared at Germany's most infamous Führer, Adolf Hitler. He was unconscious- all three of the souls were -and was dressed in a half-done-up shirt and tan trousers.

"Holy shit," you said, eyes wide as Lucifer walked over to Hitler. "I knew he was down here but I didn't think I'd ever see the bastard."

"He's one of Ramsey's favourite treats," Lucifer explained. "You see, Little Dove, human souls can regenerate down here. If we cut off a limb, it'll regrow in about a decade. It's a slow process but, lucky for Ramsey, there are a lot of sinners down here with crimes heinous enough to make their souls meaty." Lucifer slapped Hitler on the back, startling him awake. "Since you have two quote-unquote connections with this guy, I figured you'd like to feed a bit of him to Ramsey."

"Two?" you questioned, raising a brow. "All I can think of is the Thule, what's the other connection?"

"Raph didn't tell you?" Lucifer said, snorting. "He's the one that murked this asshole, framed it as a suicide and everything. Don't tell Michael, though, it's a secret." Lucifer pressed a finger to his lips as he chuckled.

"Raphael killed Hitler?" you said, a grin spreading across your face. "That's perfect."

"Yep," Lucifer hummed, glancing at Hitler's chest. "Not sure exactly what Raph did to him, though. A whole piece of Hitler's soul is missing." Lucifer pulled Hitler's unbuttoned shirt away enough to show off the area of his chest over his heart. There was one problem, a black hole that looked like it belonged to a broke porcelain doll was over where Hitler's heart should have been. "Now, with humans like this guy," Lucifer slapped Hitler on the back, making him shout in pain as he swung forward, "I would assume that their metaphorical hearts were black and that usually translates to their souls."

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