another life -- one helluva revamp

S1, EP1: family matters

The day was a typical Monday at the office: Blitzø was in a meeting with a prospective client, who was giving a long winded version of events that I have to type up and put in her case file. Luckily for me at least, that meant that no one would stop me from stealing Moxxie's lunch. He wouldn't eat it anyways, but he'd never admit that. I get it, kinda. Looking good is an important part of being successful in Hell. If I wasn't "pretty" I wouldn't have been adopted out of the shelter. I shouldn't have been adopted out of the shelter. I probably would have been euthanized, courtesy of Beelzebitch's shitty job of managing life in Gluttony. Hell, I almost was if it weren't for Blitzø taking pity on an angry teenage me with "behavioural issues". I don't have issues with my behaviour, other people do! Why shouldn't I be angry about how preventably shitty life is!
Moxxie has good leftovers, enjoyed between rounds of typing notes based on what I'm hearing from the microphone in Blitzø's office.
Moxxie catches on that I'm eating his food. I snark at him about his hesitation to do his own job and having to have his wife coax him into doing the minimum. I don't like his wife. I know she's from Wrath, but she's lived in Pride so long. She should know better by now. I'm a person, not a pet. Not that Beelzebitch presents us that way.
In typical fashion, Blitzø announces the job and I open the portal to Earth for them.
I always stay behind, even though I'm the only one of these fuckers that has a proper human disguise.
The big boss of Hell is going to have words if he finds out, but nobody gives a fuck about us, the lowest class citizens of Hell.
I never really know what to do while they're gone. Every client is so different because we've only just started doing the killing humans bit. It's usually only an hour or two, because time on Earth is faster than Hell. Sometimes I'll get some work done, sometimes I'll max the company credit card. Sometimes work requires both. When we were assissins in Hell only, procedure was well-established, predictable. We'd do multiple hits a day. Now it's my job to keep this shit show running. Blitzø doesn't know his ass from his elbow in this respect.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the client in the waiting room.
Guess I'll do up the contract with her. I invite her over to my desk and we tweak a generic draft contract I have saved to my computer until we're both satisfied.
---
"A family? I can't kill a family. She's got two kids and husband!"
"She wouldn't be our target is she didn't deserve it Moxxie. Besides, were being paid good money for this shit, so tell yourself whatever lies let you sleep at night and paint the walls with her blood."
"I can't."
"Kill the mom, Moxxie."
"No!"
"Fuck you. I will."
Moxxie pushed the barrel of Blitzø's gun out of the way, putting a hole in their dining room wall and catching the attention of the target.
"You're so not getting paid for this. I could kill you, Moxxie," Blitzø muttered as the two fled the now armed family.
---
The inside of this house was unsettling in a way Millie couldn't place.
It reminded her of the family ranch, perhaps with more wealth and less wear and tear.
The sound of a gunshot sent her hiding. Not in fear, but to find the best angle to attack at. She found her way on top of a door, axe out and ready to strike any passerbys if necessary.
An armed man walks by, and she attacks. The ace misses it's target and falls out of Millie's desperate reach. An epic battle ensues, leading them all the way down to the lake and fighting on the docks. Weapons change hands and are improvised countless times. Things that shouldn't be possible to use in this circumstance are. The fight could go either way, until a desperate act kills the man. She head butted him so hard his skull caved in and she knocked herself out, leaving Millie vulnerable to the mother, who ties her around a bonfire with Blitzø.
---
The second the gunshot missed, Moxxie and Blitzø split up. They weren't too worried about dying but rather injuries that couldn't be explained, the inaccessibility of proper treatment and permanent disfigurement. Blitzø hid the woods, scaling a tree and taking cover before his phone rang.
Not now, dammit. Blitzø cusses Stolas out internally, desperately trying to hang up and failing. Blitzø doesn't listen to the words Stolas says. Something about a deal, something about the full moon, something about fucking. Whatever.  He's got to have some kink for being fucked by the lowest of society. If that's what it takes to make a better life for me and Loonie, so be it? I know if I can just help her get settled, she'll make it all worth it. For Loonie.
Why won't the phone hang up? Why won't he shut the fuck up? Are Blitzø's last thoughts before a blow to the head knocks him unconscious.
---
Moxxie made his way back to house, to check for Millie. Instead of his under-appreciated wife, he found the children hellbent on making him their next okay thing.
The girl acts first, her brother assisting. They're armed with blades, he's got guns. And he knows how to them, but not if he should.
Moxxie is no stranger to this line of work, to his dismay. It's what he's best at and worse for. He's weighing the pros and cons of his actions. He's running out of time, she'll get him good if he doesn't do something.
He clicks the safety on and uses his gun as a blunt instrument, trying to knock the girl unconscious. She falls over, but gets back up again. A maniacally sparkle in her eyes tells Moxxie his regrettable truth: it's them or her. He cocks his gun and fires into the boy. Right between the eyes. Before he'd hit the floor, Moxxie fired the next round at the girl. She moved and avoided certain death, taking a bullet to the arm instead.
Not her dominant arm, Moxxie notes as he tries to reload his gun. But she got mine.
Heart beating in his chest, he pushes her into the wall so hard the dry wall cracks, leaving a child-sized outline. She's catching her breath and he fires.
The feeling of her warm blood and chunks of flesh splatter across Moxxie's body sends an tsunami of nausea throughout his body. He gags, wretching what little was in his stomach until nothing but stomach acid comes up.
You can see the thoughts run across Moxxie's face as he changes from expressions of horror to terror as he runs out of the house in search of Millie.
He hears the mother talking about devils, Hell and Satan. There's so many inaccuracies. Where does he start?
Behind her, Moxxie sees Blitzø and Millie bound to a bonfire. Thank god it's not Hell Fire, but earthly flame. They'll be fine.
Without hesitation the bullet goes straight through the mother's head and into Blitzø's arm.
Blitzø calls me to portal them back while Moxxie stages the scene to look like the mother snapped and killed her family then herself.
---
Even though she didn't have to, the client came with us to urgent care while everyone got patched up. Millie has a major concussion, Blitzø needed surgery to remove the bullet and Moxxie's wound barely missed a major blood vessel.
My paper work is in order, after collecting everyone's story (as if I wasn't watching them using Stolas's seeing eye spell) and everyone is starving, so we order some food to the office.
Somehow, despite carnage, this was our most successful mission. Nobody died and they got the target. Maybe Blitzø's idea isn't so far-fetched. Maybe this isn't so bad.