Good To Be Greedy || Helltaker x Male Reader

Tome 1 | Log 1

Deep down in the fiery depths of flaming inferno, in a realm where no living man has ever stepped foot and survived, in a realm where monsters and devils lurk in every crevice of a bedroom, in a realm where mortal souls are forever tormented by the blistering flames of retribution, one woman sits silently on her seat with a pen firmly gripped.

If one looked close enough, they could see her eyes twitching in aggravation.

With a heavy sigh, Lucifer slumped on her desk, body and mind crying out so desperately for a break.

If one were to ask what the CEO of Hell hated most, the answer would be given straight and clear with no hesitation whatsoever.

Paperwork.

Lucifer―the queen of hell, the CEO, the fallen angel, the morningstar herself―was face down on the floor with the expression of a corpse and pitch black bags under her eyes. Around her office, mountains of paperwork were stacked one after another.

Never, in her entirety of existing, had she ever had this much work. It had taken her literal days just to finish half the load, with the other half still needing finishing and more being added to the pile daily.

Though fatigued and worn out, the exhausted queen somehow managed to get up onto her feet and stumble to her desk, where she fell back on her chair. If not for the work that still needed to be done, she might have fallen asleep there and then.

Gripping her pen tightly, she pulled one of the hundreds of papers that needed signing and tried to write, but no ink came out. She tried again and again, but the same result happened. A feral growl escaped her lips, and she tossed it into a corner, where a large pile of similar empty stationery laid.

Lucifer slumped in her seat and groaned. All other emotions she felt, or had felt, were no longer of concern, as all were replaced by enervation. Lucifer tried her best to just ignore it, but with how drowsy she started to feel, she came to the conclusion that she needed something to help with her sleepiness.

Time for her hundredth cup of coffee, so it would seem

The queen snapped her fingers, clearing a path and opening the door of her office to which she dragged herself out of. Lucifer wasn't really one to drink coffee—she only did it in certain circumstances—but right now the smell of the coffee that came from the staff kitchen was like a drug she was addicted to; she couldn't get enough of it.

She needed it.

When she stepped foot into the little break room that her workers would usually use, the aroma of eggs and burnt toast hit her senses―an indication of what had been cooked earlier. Lucifer unbuttoned her suit and stripped down to her dress shirt, using magic to fold it neatly before snapping her fingers and making it vanish. Being cooped up in her office as she had been was very uncomfortable and could get pretty stuffy, especially in her business suit. Though, it was questionable on how that was possible considering she lived in what was most likely the coldest place to exist.

Treachery, the ninth circle of Hell, and a frozen wasteland.

Barely keeping herself awake, Lucifer rummaged through the cabinets, grabbing out a little bag of black coffee beans. With a little bit of magic, they had gone from her hand to inside the coffee brewer.

As the little machine does it's job, Lucifer taps her fingers on the counter top, waiting. When it finished, she took a whiff of the brew, the strong bitter smell already jolting her half-awake.

She raised the cups to her mouth, tongue licking her lips in anticipation of the feeling of caffeine down her throat. She was close, so close to drinking it when a sudden rumble of the building threw Lucifer off balance. Her hot coffee had spilt to the side while she laid on her back, a blank expression on her face that masked her contained fury, though soon enough that fury faded into confusion.