Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Time moves funny in hell, that much was sure. Mike couldn’t seem to grasp how much time had passed since he had been posted here. But, despite how much time had passed, or not passed, he was the FNG on the base, the new kid. A moniker that was likely to remain until the next poor bastard got killed in battle doing something heroic. 

Still, despite not really knowing just how much time had passed, he figured it must have been at least a couple of months since he came here, and he was settling into a rhythm of sorts. Funnily enough, being part of a heaven task force in hell was actually one of the most informal postings he ever had. Seems God expected you to guard this portal, do extraction missions and train. But besides that? There weren't really a lot of restrictions as many other armies around the world would have. While this base had what one would expect of a military base: Armoury, fences around it, guard towers, canteen and barracks (Which were much bigger and better than any barracks he had ever seen), it carried signs of being modified throughout time. 

Hell, which was much more tame that Mike had ever expected, followed Earth in its development. Seems like sinners brought pieces of home with them when they died, and when hell changes, so does the base to accommodate. But it wasn’t just in regards to military installations, entertainment centers, upgrades to the central kitchen, Laundromat, you name it, there is a chance this base has it. Mike suspects half the reason is to also keep people in the base. While they are allowed to leave the base when they have leave (And wander hell if they so chose), they must be back on their post by the time their leave is up. Desertion is in breach of contract, and any breach of their contract with heaven will… You guessed it, forfeit their last chance at salvation. 

Oh yeah, and those extraction missions? That seems to be the entire reason why there even is a portal to heaven in the first place. Apparently, between death and going to the afterlife, even the most paragon of mankind can risk somehow being snatched up and pulled into hell by demons. Fortunately for them, their extraction force exists, so every now and then, they get orders from heaven to find this person pulled into hell, and extract them back to heaven. 

While living on this base they had built around the portal is nice and all, and guard duty is hardly the worst thing he has ever done, Mike really does yearn for the chance to join the extraction team. Some excitement… It’s partly what he used to live for, back when he was… well alive. But so far, he had been excited just by speaking to his fellow soldiers. Seems like this battalion has been built up ever since Jesus walked the earth, the first man to get chance… or be assigned this posting, as they like say, was a Roman centurion named Augustus Flavian who had grown a conscience in the last moments of his life, and protected a congregation of Christians against his fellow Romans. To be, effectively, around for almost 2000 years was a real head scratcher to Mike, not that he had spent much time speaking with Augustus. The Roman was still stoic, not much for casual conversation. Kept mostly to himself in his free time, but he did lead one of the extraction teams (the best one). But luckily for Mike, others were willing to engage in conversation. 

Like Robert Rowland, who was fast-tracking to becoming his best friend here. Robert had also been a paratrooper, he died during the battle of the Bulge, dropping over a brother-in-arms when a grenade was thrown at them, saved the man's life, but lost his own in the bargain. But, he was always in high spirits, eternally grateful for the chance he has gotten. He had been the one to be his welcome committee, filling him in on all the jobs he would be doing, and what future jobs might be available, depending on how well he does. Having a friend like him was a life-saver, managed to make a few friends as well due to Robert in the few months he had been in hell. 

The alarm clock rang out, its annoying ringtone instantly waking Mike up, making him shoot up in bed. One thing you get to learn while in the military, it’s that it only gets worse if you stay in bed a little longer, might as well get up the moment it starts. The same discipline seemed to have never been drilled into his bunkmate. “You plan on getting up today?” Mike asked as he stretched out. 

“Relax dude, it’s my rest day.” Declan Cambbell had been one of those hippie types who got drafted for the Vietnam war, kept his entire style loose, and in any other military force than the Heaven task force they were a part of, it would have been unacceptable. He was the type to wear a peace symbol on his jacket, anti-war slogans on his helmet… The type shown in all Vietnam war movies ever made. That’s another thing that puzzled Mike when he had been dropped off here, mostly everyone kept their equipment from when they were alive. Not that God was cheap or anything (Can an all knowing and all powerful being that created the universe even be cheap?), any military equipment you wanted, all you had to do was fill in a requisition order and it would be delivered, more like spit out, of the portal. A lot of people were more comfortable sticking to the equipment and weapons they used when they lived. 

“Well, enjoy it. I’ll see you tomorrow at the common?” 

“Sure thing dude.” Declan groaned as he switched sides on the bed, turning his back to Mike, who simply shook his head and chuckled. Well, time to hit the showers and get ready for the day. 

He greeted the men who passed him by in the halls as he made his way to the showers. There weren’t many women on the base, but there were a few. Not that women couldn’t die as heroically as men, most of the world had simply decided for a long time that women shouldn’t fight, so those who were here tended to be those who fought during extreme times of need. They had their own barrack on the other side of the base. 

Taking a quick shower, and then changing into his military rags, he finally exited the barracks, to make his way towards the mess area for some,breakfast. But before that, he met Logan McGhee, Scottish man, killed in the first world war, guiding a group of children, who for some reason had never evacuated the farmhouse they stayed at, to safety. He was a lot of fun to be around though. 

“Morning lad, you slept well?” 

“Yeah, as good as one can in hell.” It always seemed like your dreams were muddled when you slept in hell. Robert had told him it had something to do with the fact that they were still… well alive to some degree. While they did not age anymore or get sick, they could still be killed by trauma. And if they did, God would judge their soul, and send it to where it is destined based on how well they have performed. So there was a chance you’d end up with the demons you defend the portal from. 

“You’ll get used to it lad. Scuttlebutt says we’re gonna get front gate guard duty today.” 

“No doubt as interesting as last time.” 

“Aye lad, it is boring. If rumors are true though, you got me as company. Not bad, eh?” McGhee laughed as he slapped Mike on the shoulder. 

“As long as you leave your bagpipes in your bunk. I can’t stand that music.” Mike grinned. 

“Watch your tongue lad, I shall not have some yankee mock our music.” Logan’s face switched to serious on a dime. Mike looked back at him, almost nervous his attempt at humor had just burned a bridge. 

“Look, I’m-” 

“Got ya!” He laughed, a full belly laugh. 

“You fucker.” Mike began to laugh with him. 

“Should have seen your face! HA, priceless!” 

“Just get your fat highland ass going” Mike tried to switch to a more serious tone, but it was clear he wasn’t as skilled as Logan in that regard. 

“Sure lad, sure” Logan remarked as they continued on. “Oh, and by the way… You coming to football tomorrow? Lads are having a game.” 

“Actual football or that thing you Europeans love to play?” Mike looked back at Logan and asked. 

“You yanks call it soccer, but its proper name is football. Are ya’ coming or not?” Logan asked back. 

“Nah. Me, Cambbell and Fritz were going to have a pool game.” Mike excused himself. Logan shook his head as they finally entered the mess area. 

“Let us hope Mathieu made some proper food today, none of the French fancy stuff.” 

“Say what you will about Mathieu, but he serves the best food I ever tasted… At least in a military context. Understandable that you don’t enjoy it though” 

“Eh, what’s that supposed to mean?” Logan stopped up and asked, but Mike just kept going with a smile. 

So, here he was again. Duty at the front gate. Stand here for two hours, be relieved from your post by the guard roster for 4 hours, to rest, and then back again for two hours. Rinse and repeat for the next 24 hours until the next guard team would relieve them. Then it is four days of either rest, training or different assignments, depending on what base leadership commanded. It was evening now, the day had been uneventful, as far as he knew. He was at the tail end of his two hour shift, getting ready for four hours in the guard house in about 40 minutes. 

But for now, he had to listen to Logan go on and on about some old story while keeping his eyes peeled on the horizon. Mike hadn’t fired his gun since he came here, besides the shooting range of course. There had been no attempts to breach the perimeter of the base on his watch during his time here, but there had been a few attempts when he was off duty though. 

He knew he shouldn’t wish for the excitement of an attempt at a breach of the base, but he had always loved the adrenaline in his veins when things turned to shit. Things were probably… getting a bit too normal. When he came home from his first tour, he quickly realized he had lost the ability to adjust to life at home. He was military for life, quite literal now though. 

“-Oh, you should have seen how he squealed when he saw what he had done to his clothes…” Seems like Logan was finishing up another story, Mike looked over at the scot with a sideway look. “Heard the lads on south gate duty last night had an attempt at a breach.” 

Now Mike fully looked over at Logan. “I didn’t hear any gunshots?” 

“It was Mendez and Blackburn. Both are from the medieval times, so they carry swords. Probably why you didn’t hear it.” 

“And the man in the guard tower?” 

“That jap guy… What is his name again?” Logan snapped his fingers trying to remember.

“The Samurai guy? Don’t those guys fight with katanas?” Mike was the first to admit he didn’t know much about the way the Samurai fought, he had only seen them depicted in popular media, and besides: he had never said two words to the guy. 

“I think they fight with all kinds of weapons. Anyway, he nailed one of the imps with an arrow, and Mendez and Blackburn killed two more. One got away though. Hopefully he will spread the word for others to not try their luck.” Logan explained as he adjusted his grip on his Lee-enfield. 

“Christ. How come it’s always on other people’s shifts that kind of thing happens?” Mike complained, but seemingly it was aimed at no one. 

“Don’t be so quick to wish for battle lad. Those creatures can be vicious.” Logan reminded him. Mike knew the scot was right, but still, he couldn’t shake it. 

“Don’t you ever feel like it’s weird just how… normal things are here in hell?” Mike turned and asked, still frustrated. 

“Everyone feels that way when they get here, lad. They expect fire lakes, the smell of sulfur, the sounds of screaming from the torture of sinners. Then they see it’s pretty the same as the surface, just with more violence, sex and whatnot.” 

“I mean, for Christ's sake they have an entire city built.” Mike gestured out to the horizon. The base, and the portal, was located on a hill outside of the city, by the very edge of the ring of pride. But they could clearly see the city from their base, with the crimson sky as the backdrop. While it felt normal here, there were still many indicators it wasn’t earth. While the red sky was the biggest one, and the demons roaming the street working nine to fives, the temperature was always… uncomfortable, either just a tad bit too warm… Or too humid. Stuff like your shoelaces coming undone, your lighter not working sometimes. Things which are minor inconveniences in contrast to the torturing he figured was going on in hell. 

“Look lad, I can’t explain why things are the way that they are. I figure even the padre in our church can’t truly answer why it is the way it is. It simply is. Now, we have a job to do, focus on that. If you want, you can go into the city on the next leave and ask the locals.” Logan tried to comfort him, putting an almost fatherly hand on Mike's shoulder. 

“Right, and get my head ripped off by some sinner who is bitter about being placed here.” Mike tried to joke. 

“Yeah, doesn’t seem to bother Karl though. He still goes into the city every time he has leave. Just make sure you come back again.” Logan reminded him. Mike wasn’t sure though. Why bother? They had everything here. But then again, if he craved excitement… 

“Disciple 4. This is overlord. Do you copy? Over.” The sound of their radio interrupted them. Mike pressed the button down on his radio. 

“This is Disciple four. Go ahead overlord. Over.” Mike said. Command tended to check in every 10 minutes. 

“Requesting status report. Over.” 

“Everything is clear, overlord. Visibility 100%. No attempts at breaches detected. Over.” There were a few seconds of silence on the radio. Probably the man on the other side writing down the report. 

“Copy that Disciple 4. Butcher 2 is moving on assignment in two minutes. Clear the road for trucks passing through. How copy? Over.” 

“Solid copy, overlord. Over.” Mike gestured to the roadblock, and Logan nodded as he walked over to it. 

“Good. Report if need arises. Overlord out.” And with that, Mike went to help Logan with moving the roadblock so the extraction team could move through. Looks like some poor sap was in for a rescue, which was undoubtedly a relief for them. Mike wondered if they would be back quickly. 

Seeing the armoured convey come through and speed off into the city really made Mike wish he was with them. But before he could ever be considered for the extraction team, he would need specialized training. He had already applied for the role, alongside at least 50 other men still waiting. They quickly closed up behind them. 

“You know, sometimes I wonder why they even have us guard this place. Considering the automated defences in place if they ever breach the wall.” Mike thought out loud. “Who even knows if demons can use the portal? They might get instantly killed if they tried.” 

“It’s possible. But you have your orders lad. Best stick to them. Could be worse if you ask me.” 

“Yeah…” 

“Anyways… How about another story? See, my uncle went to sea-” 

Mike mentally drowned out whatever story Logan was coming up with next. He liked the guy, but damn it could get tiring to listen to. Mike tried to focus on the job at hand. Keeping his eye training on the horizon if anyone tried anything. But no demons ever really came close to this place, usually staying outside of a mile diameter around the base. Still, it wouldn’t hurt if one just-

“Disciple 4. This is overwatch 4. Please copy. Over.” The radio came to life again. Overwatch was their watch tower just above them on the wall. The man currently occupying that position today was Fritz. A good man, even if a lot of people gave him sideways glances. He had been a German soldier during world war two. But all soldiers posted to this base were brothers in arms, after all, they had all died doing the same thing…

“Overwatch. We copy, go ahead. Over.” 

“That rock, two hundred yards North. Looks like there might be a Hotel Delta there. Can you check it out? Over.” Fritz ordered, even though it sounded like a request. Mike quickly brought out his binoculars to see, and true enough. Someone was sitting there. Looked like a hell hound. 

“Solid copy. I’ll check it out.” 

“Understood Disciple 4. I will provide cover if things escalate. Overwatch out.” 

“I’m going down to check it out, if you hear a commotion, come quickly.” Mike turned to Logan and ordered. 

“Understood lad. Be careful, you never know what they might try and do. You sure you want to do this on your own?” Logan asked with a concerned look in his eye. 

“I got it under control-” Mike turned in the direction of the rock. “I hope.” He almost whispered. But he could feel his heart beginning to pound faster. Finally, something is happening. 

“Be safe. Shout and I’ll come running.” Logan reassured Mike as he began to walk towards the rock. Mike held up a thumbs up as he continued. 

It was time to find out just what this hellhound was up to. 

Chapter Text

Walking along the uneven ground, trying to navigate all the bigger rocks on the ground that could provide cover for anyone attempting to reach the base if they took a stealthier approach. Keeping his M4 in a semi-ready stance as he slowly walks towards the rock in question. He can see the hellhound much more clearly now. A female, style looks very goth, long grey hair, not bad looking-

Christ, what the hell are you thinking Fitzpatrick? Mike reprimanded himself. He had a job to do. Ascertain the threat, and if possible, get them to leave the one mile perimeter without issue. He moved with steady steps, trying to get his heart rate under control. This is the most excitement he has had since he was killed back on earth. 

He could see her ears perk up in response to the sound of his footsteps, but she did not turn to face him. Who the fuck do she think she is? Mike thought bitterly. There was nothing he hated more than not being taken seriously when he meant to. But that’s when he noticed the empty wine bottles on the ground. Christ, how long has she been there? He would need a word with Fritz on his power of perception when he was done here. 

“Ma’am? I’m sorry, but you’re in a-” 

“Go. Away.” She spoke coldly. Her voice dripping with venom, he could almost hear her growl with her teeth showing. Another bottle fell from her hands, and onto the ground. 

“So this is where the youth of today go to get drunk?” He picked up an empty bottle off the ground to examine it. “Hmmm, good year.” He lied, before throwing the bottle away again. 

“I told you, leave me alo-”  

“Yeah, I heard what you said. Doesn’t change the circumstances though.” She finally turned to look at him. Yup, she truly was a hellhound, but everything paled in comparison to her eyes, red eyes. They were almost urging him to go on. Some part of him said those were beautiful eyes. “You’re close enough to the base to be considered a potential threat. So, what’s your story, Mrs….?” 

“Came here because I heard no one comes around these parts. Wanted to be alone with my thoughts. Seems I now know why no one comes here. Dickheads patrol the place apparently." She replied, still with the same tone as before, mockingly almost, but there was a hint of… Sadness, or melancholy maybe. Either she was a good liar, or she really did have something to think about. 

In return, Mike lowered his rifle fully, letting it rest by its trap on his front plate as he rested his arms on it. “What’s your name?” He asked, trying to change his tone to something more caring. He didn’t really know why he’s  trying to bother with this. 

“Why do you care?” She asked, still venom in her voice, like she rejected this supposed mockery he was performing on her. It was the million dollar question though. 

“I don’t know.” He remarked after a period of silence. “Technically my only job currently is to see if you intend to breach the base-” Mike pointed behind him towards the base. “-And to escort you off the premises once I have established you are not a threat, at gunpoint if need be. But-” 

“Get to the point.” How rude 

“Something compels me to speak. Like-... Shit, I don’t know, like it’s the right thing to do.” Mike finally said. Vague as it may be. “Let me go first then. I’m Mike Fitzpatrick. Corporal now, but I used to be a sergeant before.” Mike finally pulled down the scarf covering his face, and removed the dust goggles that covered his eyes. “Nice to meet you.” 

“But you’re… human?” Her voice had changed from harsh to puzzled in a heartbeat. He could see how her eyes were looking him over like crazy, trying to figure out this newest mystery. She clearly tries to take in his features, no doubt the big nasty scar he had over his right eye drew attention. Another quirk they had, scars sustained in those moments up to the death were kept, and could never fade. 

“Last I checked.” He smiled. Adjusted his stance a bit. 

“But I thought you were a sinner?” It was like he could see the gears tick in her head, attempting to connect the dots. 

“Aren’t all humans sinners?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, somewhat confused. He had to admit, he never spent much time in church during his time alive, so he was a bit hazy on details… That reminded him that the base had its own church, and maybe it was time to frequent it more, given that the whole goddamn thing about religion was proven to be real. 

“Not what I meant, dickhead.” She rolled her eyes, her tone annoyed. 

“Then what did you mean?” He asked. It was actually a good chance to uncover some stuff. Apparently there was a difference in appearance between humans and sinners? So few people ventured outside the base, so no one really knew how things worked in hell. They always had their own little corner, and if it weren't for the extraction mission, they’d hardly ever leave the comfort of their fort. 

She sighed, long and heavy. “How long have you been in hell?” She then inquired.

“A couple of months, at least I think so. Time is… funny here.” He remarked, feeling the need to stretch out all of a sudden. “Haven’t been more than a mile from the base yet.” 

She rubbed her temples in annoyance, then let out another sigh. “When sinners die, and get sent to hell. They take different forms. Maybe in relation to their sin, maybe in relation to how they died. Either way… They don’t look like humans anymore. But you do…” 

“We all do here-” Once again gesturing to the base “We are not exactly like the others in hell, or so I have been told. We’re still mortal… Despite being killed back on earth. We have accepted a contract with heaven, hence why we are different.” He tried to explain it as best as it was explained to him. She looked him over for a moment, as if trying to figure out if he was bullshitting her. 

“Huh…. Not like I care anyway.” She dug up a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, but quickly groaned once she realized it was empty. When she looked back up at Mike, she saw him standing there, hand reached out, with a pack of cigarettes in his palm. 

“Bad habit I can’t seem to shake.” He smiled as he offered her one. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of the gesture. Until finally, she took a cigarette from the pack, and then studied it for a moment. 

“Lucky strike huh?” She asked. Never heard about the brand. Before bringing the cigarette to her lips. 

“It’s toasted” Mike said with a grin as he threw his lighter to her, she caught it with one hand. A zippo lighter, she once again studied it. A blue circle against a red background. The letters AA spelt inside the blue circle. Above, it said AIRBORNE, beneath it the circle, words spelt out DEATH FROM ABOVE. She lit the cigarette. 

“Thanks… I guess.” She did still look a bit puzzled by the gesture, but took a long drag of her cigarette before giving the lighter back to Mike, who lit up a cigarette of his own. 

“So… You never told me your name.” Mike then pointed out. She studied the human as she took another drag of the cigarette, exhaling the smoke through her noise. Clearly a debate was happening in her head, questioning if should give up her name. But, in the end, telling this stranger her name in exchange for a cigarette was a favorable deal.

“Loona.” She sighed, looking away from him and towards the city. 

Mike tasted the name on his tongue. “Loona” He whispered. It was a good name, he decided. He wasn’t sure why he liked it. Despite his whisper, she clearly heard him, the way those ears perk up is a nice indicator. Which also made Mike wonder if her tail would wag if she was happy. Though he doubted she would enjoy that question at the moment. “Well, Loona. What’s got you down and out?” 

“It’s nothing” she dismissed, almost before he had even finished his question. But her demeanor betrayed any words she could utter. Which made some part of Mike realize he had to pursue this subject. 

“You wouldn’t be sitting on the front porch of a military base, drinking shitty wine and smoking cigarettes if it was nothing.” Mike pointed out. Getting a bit closer to the hellhound and sat down on the rock. She clearly wasn’t expecting it, and she was trying to determine her response before Mike spoke up again. “So, I’ll ask again. Loona, what’s bothering you?” 

She was silent for a good long bit, and he didn’t push her into anything more, figuring she needed to do it in her own time. They smoked in silence. “Just… Life I guess?” She finally admitted. She tried to be nonchalant. “Mostly about my… Dad.” She took the last drag of her cigarette before flicking the cigarette bud off into the distance. Mike might have complained about littering, but this was hell after all. Mike gestured for her to go on. “Just… urgh…” She buried her head in her hands, or paws… Or whatever the correct terminology for hellhounds was. “I don’t know if he cares. It’s like-” The words were definitely a struggle for her to vocalize, or maybe just get in order. “I mean, he adopted me and he got me a job working for him, and he tries but… It just always comes out wrong!” She vented. “We had another fight, just before I got here.” She confessed. 

Mike hummed in acknowledgement. Adjusting his rifle to be more comfortable in his lap. “Shit. I don’t know why I bother telling you this. Look at me, first jarhead offers me a cigarette and I start telling my life story.” She sighed. Mike put a hand on her shoulder. She growled and he quickly took it off again, muttering a quick sorry. Making a mental note not to assume just how friendly they were with each other. 

“I’d bet dollars to doughnuts your life story is much more than just that.” He smiled. “Parents are always a hassle to figure out. Do they care or not? When I was just a kid, my parents were my entire world. Then… when I became a teenager, I hated them. Thought they were the cringest people in the world, purely there to embarrass me. Then…” Mike took a deep breath. “When I’m 15, my dad passes, car crash. And then I wish I had spent more time with him. Hearing his stories and whatnot. Just one last chance to go fishing with him… Parents aren’t perfect, it’s a hard thing to realize that, and some parents are down right cruel, but most of them try their best” When he looked over at her, she was paying attention, much more than she ever had prior in this conversation of theirs. “Anyway. I’m sure things are different on your end, and I wouldn’t want to assume anything. But just because people have trouble showing it, doesn’t mean they don’t care about you.” Mike thought about going all out, doing some attempt at psychoanalysis, but he had to remind himself that he didn’t even take a course in it when he was in school, and no one cares for an amateur armchair psychologist.

“Maybe.” She muttered quietly. She brought the bottle of wine to her lips, and took a healthy swig. She looking over at Mike, continuing drinking while Mike just smiled. She finally parted her lips from the bottle, rolled her eyes, sighed and offered it to Mike. 

“Appreciate the offer, but I’m gonna have to take a rain check on it. I’m not allowed to be under the influence while on guard duty.” He chuckled. “Don’t stop on my account though.” She gave him a look that clearly said wasn’t going to. Mike wondered just how much she intended to drink, not that he would reprimand her for it, he was just as likely to drink when the occasion called for it. Just too bad guard duty wasn’t such an occasion. 

“So, how did you die?” She asked after taking another large gulp of the wine. Her attempt at small talk was interesting, but maybe this was a common way to speak to people. 

Mike sighed. The memory of his death was still fresh in his mind, he suspected it always would be. There was always something to be said about trauma, either it sticks with you for life, or you forget about it, mind literally shutting it out. Guess he was stuck with the memory. “Afghanistan. About a week before we were meant to pull out of the country. Convoy was ambushed. RPG round straight into the side of the humvee. I’m thrown from the side, and then I try to help the others out of the car… Then the taliban that is hiding out on the hillside gets the kill shot on me while I’m trying to rescue the last one.” He summarized. He figured she wouldn’t be that interested. “Small act compared to some of the others. You should hear their stories.” He looked at her and smiled.  He suspected some people were hesitant to share their story of death, but on the base, they all shared their stories with each other, built trust that way. 

“So what, you did something good in life and now you get to guard some stick in the ground?” Crude version, but not inaccurate. He laughed a bit at that. 

“Yeah, pretty much. Officially it’s called the Covenant of lost soldiers. We all call the contract through. Serve until judgement day. That kind of jazz. Base’s official name is Fort Redux” Mike explained. He looked over at Loona again. “What about you? What’s your story.” 

“I was born here, idiot.” She quickly pointed out. Now it was Mike’s turn to roll his eyes. 

“Yeah, I realize that. I mean, what do you do here? Got a job?” 

“I do.” She deliberately didn’t celebrate. Which he chose to respect. No need to push her too far. Those teeth did look sharp enough to rip a man’s throat out. 

“Is it fun? Out there.” He nodded his head towards the city. 

“There are some good clubs and bars.” She answered. “Why? You thinking of going?” 

“I got leave in a few days. Almost none of us ever leave the base, but we are allowed to if we want. Just as long as we can make it back to curfew. Been thinking about going out to check it out for an evening.” 

“You want me to be your guide?” She sounded almost disgusted by the thought. 

“Nah, no need to waste your time being a tour guide for the new kid on the block. Just give me some recommendations, and I can check it out for myself.” Mike chuckled. “That way, you can also ensure I’m staying away from the spot you are currently at. I can tell you think I’m cringy” He laughed. She huffed in, what could be considered, amusement. 

“Huh. Alright. I can text you the names of a few places that are pretty cool. What’s your number?” 

“Already asking for my number? This is going better than expected.” He chuckled to himself. He thought it was a pretty good joke, but one look at Loona told him he was alone in this assessment. 

She growled. “Don’t push your luck, dickhead.” He chose to heed that advice. 

“Anyway. I don’t have a phone.” He confessed nonchalantly. Clearly, by the way Loona was looking at him, she did not share the sentiment that it was so casual to not own a phone. 

“The fuck do you mean you don’t have one?” 

“Haven’t gotten around to ask God almighty for a new one yet.” He joked, but it was at least half true. That, and he figured there probably wasn’t much need for a phone down here. Turns out he was wrong. He did have a phone when he was alive, but between all the deployments he was on, he never really used it much. Not at lot of signal in the mountains of Afghanistan. 

She groaned in annoyance. “You got anything to write on?” She then asked, after giving her temples a furious rubbing. He handed her a notepad, and a pen that he always kept on him. She scribbled some numbers on it, and promptly handed it back to him with a huff. “My number. When you get a phone, text me and I’ll send you places of interest.” 

“Thanks.” He smiled as he looked down on the note. 

“Whatever.” She responded, turning her attention back to her bottle, which must have been close to finished now. Christ, this girl can drink. “So, what’s the deal with this base anyway? Just an excuse for you to play soldiers and ride around town killing demons?” Her question caught him off guard. 

“You mean you don’t know?” He was confused. He figured every demon was aware of what was inside the base. That’s why they always tried to get in, right? Attempt to go through the portal to heaven and cause as much mayhem as possible. 

“All I ever heard is that you dicks keep to yourself, then once in a while you take a ride out in your armored cars, kill some demons, then head home. Then when the friends and family of those that were killed get angry, they try to assault the base, you kill them and throw them in the sea. How am I doing?” Seems like everyone in the base operated on a different worldview than the rest of hell. Christ, how could he have been so blind? Of course, none of these demons have ever seen the portal, and they don’t go around advertising it. So obviously, the people that attack the base are just angry people looking for vengeance for their loved ones. 

For just a moment, Mike thought about telling about the portal, but he chose against it. Still, the extractions were no secret, as far as he knew. “Well, for starters, we don’t go around killing random demons, or sinners for that matter. We extract people who are destined for heaven, but have been pulled down here by dark forces.” He explained. 

The way she looked at him, like she couldn’t quite believe it. It made Mike wonder why more demons don’t try and storm the base. Kill the people that they perceive to be killing their friends and family. Maybe they had just given up on the idea after too many failed attempts, so the killing just became another part of hell. It raised another question as well. While the extraction team had the greenlight to shoot and kill demons, sinners or whatever if they got in the way, they didn’t go out of their way to kill. So just how many residents of hell did they kill on their field trips? 

“I have never heard about boring goodie two shoes being pulled into hell.” She pointed out. He had no idea if it was common knowledge or not. Didn’t change the facts of the matter. He had seen those poor souls as they were unloaded from the armored car and sent into the portal. The amount of relief on their faces was immeasurable. “Figured heaven would have angels on that job, not washed up soldiers.” While the comment might have been rude, her tone carried a more sarcastic. 

“By all accounts, God could snap his fingers and they would be transported straight to heaven. I figure it’s just they needed a job to give us, so we could earn our salvation. So, what’s better than to stick us here on a base, and give us assignments to guard and extract.” He theorized. It was just that, a theory. Maybe there was some theologian explanation for it. “Also, Washed up soldiers? Fuck you.” He tried to pretend to be hurt, but from the small smile on her face, she didn’t believe his bullshit one bit. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. 

“So what’s-” She was interrupted by his radio going off. 

“The hell’s going on lad? We sent you to clear off some mutt and you spent over 20 minutes talking with her!” Clearly Logan did not appreciate Mike’s attempt to clear off the intruder. “Over.” Logan added, making Mike laugh. The Scot still wasn’t used to the radio etiquette they had introduced. 

“I am clearing her off. Over.” Mike reaffirmed. 

“By what? Getting her life story? You’re lucky I convinced Fritz to not report you, you goddamn daff bastard. Just get her out of there and report back!” Followed by a moment of silence. “Over.” 

 “Copy that. Out.” And with that, he turned his attention back to Loona. Who was clearly enjoying watching Mike getting chewed out over the radio. 

“uh oh, someone is in trouble.” She had almost the look of a sister that had gotten her brother in trouble with their parents. 

“Whatever. Best you leave now. The next shift that comes on in a few minutes is a lot more trigger happy. In fact, I would take this spot off your favorite places to drink list.” Mike recommended. She stood up, and only then did he notice just how tall she was. “Christ on the cross. What the hell do they feed you?” He laughed. She was almost as tall as him, and he was the tallest soldier on base. 

“I’m done anyway.” She threw her last bottle on the ground. Making Mike sigh at the litter. “Good luck on your field trip.” She smiled. And with that, she took off. He waved her goodbye, but she just gave him the finger. 

“See you around, Loona.” He remarked. Watching her walk off into the distance. And with that, Mike went back to the gate. The furious look in Logan’s eyes was clear enough to see when he walked up, as soon as he joined his friend at the gate, Logan smacked Mike on the back of his head. Not too effective, considering the helmet Mike was wearing, but still, he played into it. “Ouch” 

“You better start thinking clearly, son.” Logan lectured. “You got a job to do. Not mess around with the local population.” 

“Sorry.One thing led to another, and I suppose it was just interesting to see the other perspective.” Mike remarked. But before he could continue, the next shift came out to relieve them. They spent some time recounting the events of the day, and mercifully, Logan didn’t snitch on him. While they took off their equipment in the guard house, the extraction team came back. Some poor sod was about to finally get where they were supposed to go.

Mike threw himself on the sofa. Hoping to get a nap before his next shift started in four hours. 

Chapter Text

A few days later, his leave finally came up. The last few times he had a few days of leave, he had just spent it on the base. Either by playing sports with the others, drinking with the others, or doing some other activity. Hell, they even had a playstation in their common area. But today? He was finally about to embark on the journey to see hell… Or at least some parts of the pride ring. 

“You’re goddamn crazy kid.” Robert remarked as they walked back from shooting practice. “Walking into literal hell? What do you expect to find there?” Clearly Robert didn’t approve of the plan. 

“It’ll be fine, Robert. I’m going with Karl.” Mike tried to assure him. 

“Christ kid, you gonna go paint pictures with that Swedish mook?” Robert laughed. “You don’t strike me as the… erh… artistic type.” 

“I’m not gonna paint pictures with Karl. We’re just walking into the city together. I think he has plans to paint some lake somewhere. I’m gonna go around, see the sights and find some good bar somewhere to have a couple of drinks. You’re welcome to come along if you want.” Mike smiled. 

“Thanks but no thanks. Unlike you, I actually like being alive.” Robert laughed. 

“We’re not technically alive, at least not by any definition they would use back on Earth.” Mike retorted with a smile. 

“Don’t get coy with me, pal. You know what I mean. One of these demon bitches might decide it’s time to see what your grey matter looks like plastered upon a drywall.” There was some seriousness in Robert’s voice. He had heard the stories, there used to be a Spanish guy on the base, one who had been a conquistador in his previous life, lived in the 16th or 17th century. Well, he was a brave soul, liked to drink with the local hell population. Until someone decided that he was cheating in a card game, they shot him dead on the spot. Scared the living hell out of everyone on base, making most of them clam up and deciding to never leave. And that was over a 100 years ago. 

“I’ll be sure to avoid places with drywall.” Mike laughed, but Robert clearly didn’t feel so light about the situation. “Take it easy, I’ll be careful.” Mike promised with a pad on Robert’s back. Robert had become his closest friend here, even though Robert had died just about 48 years prior to his birth. They were the only two paratroopers on the base after all. 

“Well, if you change your mind. The boys are holding a baseball game tonight.” 

“Don’t remind me. Would love to, but I want to at least see the sights once. So… See you tomorrow?” Mike asked, and Robert quickly gave a nod. And with that, they parted ways. Mike went into the barracks, and then into his room, where he found Declan playing on a guitar, trying his hardest to get a melody right. He stopped, and looked up at Mike. 

“What’s up dude?” He asked, a slight smile on his face. 

“Not much. How about you? Which song are you trying to replicate?” Mike asked back, gesturing to the guitar while taking a seat on his bed. It had been ages since Mike had last touched a guitar, he used to love playing them. But there was hardly ever any time when he was in the service. 

“I’m good.” He remarked, then turned his attention to the guitar in his hands “Not trying to replicate anything, just want to try my hand at making music. Never bothered before.” 

“What compelled you to start now? I mean, you’ve been here, what? 50-something years?” Mike inquired as he was taking off his boots. 

“I don’t know man. Feels like the air is changing, or something.” Declan remarked as he set the guitar down. 

“You been on that devil’s lettuce again?” 

“You know it dude.” He laughed, picking up the small box besides his bed that was filled with weed, and then Declan went about rolling a new joint for himself. Weed was fine by the base’s standards, under the same regulations as alcohol. As long as you were sober for your assignments, you were allowed to cut loose in that regard. Not that Mike messed around much with that. He had tried it once many years ago, in high school, and it had been a bad trip. “Little birdie told me you plan on taking a stroll outside?” Declan asked as he continued his work. 

“That’s true. You want to come along?” Mike asked, hoping for a drinking partner. 

“Tempting, but nah. I’m good, man. You have fun though.” 

“Thanks” Mike smiled as he stood up, and began to change into some more civilian clothing. He hoped it would be enough to sort of mask him. Obviously, Loona had told him humans were not a common sight, nigh on extinct in hell, considering sinners transformed into… other things… apparently. Some dark jeans, a black shirt and chelsea boots. He slipped on his watch and checked himself in the mirror, applied deodorant, some perfume and made sure his short hair sat at least somewhat nice. He had a nice five-o’clock shadow, and for a brief moment he considered if he should grow it out more. He was as ready as he was going to be. “See you tomorrow.” 

“You got it man. Stay safe.” 

“Here is your money.” Karl said as he handed the cash in an envelope to Mike, who eagerly accepted it. Karl had been a soldier 300 years prior, marching with his king through Russia, until he was killed. Staying behind to ensure his comrades could make the escape from hussars. His passion had always been painting, and he was one of the few men who still ventured outside of the base. He wasn’t a bad kid, a bit weird sometimes, but a good feller none-the-less. 

“Thank you, Karl. Mighty kind of you to lend me this. I’ll get you back shortly.” Mike promised him as he pocketed the envelope. 

“You have better. This is what I made from the last month of selling my paintings. But… How do you plan on making money to pay me back?” Karl asked confused, scratching his head. Then he went about getting his bag filled with painting supplies over his shoulder. If there was something that was limited on the base, it was the space they had for themselves. They shared rooms, and for personal effect just one chest that wasn’t even that big. So Karl was forced to either throw his paintings out, or attempt to sell them. And it seems he had luck in selling them. 

“I’ll figure it out. If all else fails, I can shine your shoes and carry your bag for a month?” Mike asked with a smile. Karl chuckled at it. 

“Did you bring a gun?” Karl then asked. 

“Yup! Colt 1911, plus two mags. Should be enough to let me escape and get back to the base if need be… Hopefully.” Mike remarked, quickly flashing the gun, alongside the shoulder holster it was neatly sitting in. 

“I also keep one with me, just in case.” Karl showed a gun from the inside of his jacket. “Let’s go then.” Karl began to walk towards the gate, Mike quickly followed. The guards at the gate house opened the gate for them, and the men on guard duty outside guard nodded as they passed them. 

“Have fun you degenerates!" one of the guards called out as they went past him. 

“You know we will, James!” Mike called back. As they continued on, they walked mostly in silence towards the city. It was quite a walk, and it made Mike wish they had at least one car on the base for use on their leave. But with how few people actually went off base, it was clear it was something they didn’t bother acquiring, and asking for one would probably fall on deaf ears. Not that mattered, no one ever took harm going for a little hike. 

As they walked, Mike took in the sights of the city. It could be any major city in the US. Besides the demons of course, but there were buildings, power lines, food trucks, you name it. “You-… erh… Ever have any trouble when you walk into the city?” He asked. Karl looked over at him, pondered for a moment. 

“Almost never. There was one time 30 years ago some-… what are they called? Imp? tried to hold me up and rob me.” Karl recounted plainly in his, rather, goofy Swedish accent. 

“Since you are still alive, assume it didn’t go too well for the imp?” Mike inquired as they continued on. Demons did stop and look in their direction, but none did any more than that. 

“Correct. I shot him.” The way Karl said it so… causally made Mike reconsider how dangerous he was. Goes to show you should never underestimate someone based on their size, even though he was only 5’7, but granted that wasn’t his fault. People were just shorter back then. 

“You’re ice cold, Karl. Remind me to never get on your bad side.” He laughed. Karl smiled in response as they continued on. “So what was it that you wanted to paint? A lake?” 

“Yes, out by that big castle owned by… I think they are called Ars Goetia. I think there is a good vantage point where I can see it clearly without trespassing.” Karl answered. Mike hummed in response. But just about then, he spotted what he had been looking for, an electronic store. It seemed like this was a nice enough neighbourhood, so he didn’t expect to get scammed, but one could never know. 

While there weren’t a lot of restrictions on going off the base when on your leave, one of the few ones he remembered from his contract was that they were under no circumstances to aggravate the local population. Self defense was fine, but going around shooting a shopkeeper for scamming him probably didn’t fall under that clause. “This is my stop Karl.” Mike said as he stopped up in front of the store. 

“This store? I thought you were going to a bar?” Karl asked with a puzzled look on his face. 

“I will, afterwards.” He said as he looked back at Karl. “See you back at base?” 

“Of course. Remember to not overdo your drinking. You must be back by noon tomorrow.” Karl reminded him. Adjusted his shoulder bag. 

“Yes mom. I got it.” Mike laughed as Karl shook his head in annoyance. They then said their goodbyes, and Karl went away to find his spot for painting. Mike turned his attention back to the store. It seemed to be in order as he went inside. No one was there besides the clerk at the counter, who only greeted him lazily, not even looking up from the magazine he was reading. As far as he could tell, it was a demon of some kind. Probably an imp. He would have to read up on what kinds of demons inhabited hell, He wouldn’t want to offend anyone. 

The store had a pretty good selection, TVs, gaming consoles, laptops, tablets, and in the class counter, of course: Phones. Bingo, just what he was looking for. But, none of these brands were familiar to him. Dreadful, he would have to enlist the help of the clerk. “Hey, which brand is best?” 

“Price and quality are one in the same.” He remarked, uninterested in a potential customer. Mike looked closer at the names and price tags. Some of these looked like bad puns on real world brands, just substituted certain letters or words with hell or sin. He sighed, how original. Well, time to pick out one. Sinsung or Serpent. Well, he had been an avid user of Samsung in the previous life, so why deviate from that? “I’ll have this one.” Mike requested as he tapped on the glass to indicate which one. Finally, the imp looked up, and it made Mike wish he could have taken a picture of the look of absolute bewilderment on the face of the imp. The gasp that went along with it really hammered it home. 

“You’re- You’re-” 

“Human, yes. Now, if you wouldn’t mind?” Mike requested. He figured this would happen, considering Loona’s reaction the other day. 

“But how? Why? Where?” the question flew out at lighting speeds. 

“Really not in the mood. So, could we please get on with this purchase?” He really wasn’t in the mood for the whole song and dance routine. the imp’s look had turned to amazement instead of bewilderment, but he gave a nod, and unlocked the glass case in the counter, and pulled out the phone. “You got a prepaid sim card as well?” Mike then requested. 

“Yes, of course. How many hours and data do you want?” 

“Just give me the best one.” Mike turned around to look at the store again as the imp went about collecting the sim card for him. The imp was even nice enough to set in the new card for him, not that it would have been a problem for Mike to do it himself. Then came the matter of the money to be used on this. The amount totaled half of what he had on him, which currently was the extent of his fortune. But, it was the price he had to pay for it. He hoped Loona could provide some good places to check out, otherwise he would chuck this phone at her the next time he saw her, if he ever saw her again. “Hey… Can I charge the phone here?” 

“Erh-....” The imp thought about it. Clearly this wasn’t his store, he was just employed here. So he had determine in his mind whether or not his boss would get mad at him for providing this service. “Sure. Right over there.” He pointed to a socket on the wall, Mike thanked him, and went there to begin charging. “So… Since you are waiting anyway… What is your deal?” The imp asked. 

“Are humans really that strange of an occurrence down here?” 

“Duh!” The imp played the part of an annoying teenage girl so well. “Of course we don’t see humans down here.” 

“Right now, I’m getting a phone so I can text an acquaintance. Then I’m gonna take in the sights, get a few drinks and then head back. Normally, I’m in hell to do my job. Nothing more, nothing less.” He explained. He realizes he shouldn’t go around shouting that he is from the fort that murders demons. Despite the fact that murdering isn’t their primary business, this imp didn’t know that, and he’d rather not risk a witch hunt in the streets. “Does that satisfy you?” 

Please say yes. “For now, I guess. Just expect the same from anyone you encounter down here” The imp did seem to lose interest. There was enough power on the phone for Mike to power it up. Quickly running through the settings, getting it all set up. Though, while setting up the phone, he noticed something. It gave the year as 2025, but that couldn’t be right? He died in August 2021? He looked at his phone for more than a long moment, trying to determine just what the hell was going on. He wondered if he had been on the back burner for four years before they assigned him here, maybe debated if he deserved the chance or not… Or maybe he had been in a coma for the duration? He wasn’t sure… Hell, maybe time really moved that way down here. 

There were no calendars on the base. They had TVs that could take both channels from Hell and Earth, but the news was never on. One reason was that no one could agree on what news channel should be on if need be, hell just between the Americans on the base there were fierce debate if it should be Fox News or CNN. and a second reason was that there was a broad agreement that Earth would move on without them, and they shouldn’t bother themselves with what happens there anymore. 

He pulled out the piece of notepad Loona had written her number down on a few days ago. Time to see if she gave him the right number. 

The day at I.M.P had been busy. Despite Stolas mostly taking over secretary duties at the office, and Loona helping out more on hits, there seemed to be a never-ending amount of work these days. All that being said, playing solitaire was getting boring, and the clock was so close to hitting five. She didn’t have any plans, it was a normal Tuesday night, but she could feel her throat crying out for something to drink. She checked her phone, and saw she had a text from an unknown sender. 

UNKNOWN NUMBER: “Hey, it’s Mike. You know, the soldier from the Fort. I hope you took my advice to heart and stay clear of the base from now on. But, since I haven’t seen your head mounted on the common area wall, I’d suspect you are alright. Anyhow, I was hoping to cash in on that list of fine establishments to visit.”  

Huh, she did remember giving him her number for this exact purpose, but she had mostly forgotten about it. She had been more hung up on the things he said about the fort. She had done research on it (googled it), and it seems no one could agree on what exactly the base was for. She hadn’t asked around the office, and she wasn’t going to. It was only going to lead to questions she didn’t want to answer. 

She thought about giving him some bad locations, just for the heck of it. Not dangerous places, just the most boring ones. It would be funny to see it on sinagram if he got into some trouble, but… she hated to admit it, but it wasn't completely terrible talking to him on the outskirts of his base. The least she could do was provide good locations. She saved his contact as Mike (idiot)

She began to text him back. “idk. Hunting ground is good. Alright vibe and cheap beers.” She sent him the address then put the phone down and turned her attention back to the computer again. It didn’t take long before a new message came back, she quickly checked her phone again. 

Mike: “Thanks, I’ll check it out.” It was a quick response, just as she was about to shrug it off and lay the phone down, a new message ticked in. “I realize I might have blown you off the other day when I said I didn’t need a guide. I didn’t mean it like that, I would like a drinking buddy, if you want?” 

“As long as u pay for the drinks.” 

“Hah. You got it.” was the quick response. 

She gave a slight smile, at least it was something to do for the night, and her wallet was looking thin this month. Turning her gaze to the watch, it seemed like now was as good a time to leave as any. “c u in 30” She texted, and then gathered her things. 

“Where are you going Loona?” Moxxie asked with worry laced in his voice. 

“For a drink.” She replied. “See you tomorrow.” 

“But what about all this paperwork? Blitz said-”

“Then deal with it, fatso.” She smirked as she closed the door. She knew just the look on Moxxie’s face at the moment. Priceless. She guessed it was time to see if the drinks at hunting ground were still up to par, it didn't hurt that they were free tonight for her. She pondered how many she could squeeze out of him. 

Chapter Text

”c u in 30” He read her text again. After checking the address she had sent him, it was only a 10 minutes walk away. Not too bad. He was happy to have a drinking buddy, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend on the outside. Hopefully they could talk on more normal terms than they did on the outskirts of the base a few days ago. Giving some more time for his phone to charge, he installed a few apps that seemed useful. He still couldn’t get over how just about everything seemed to be a mock version of what you’d find on Earth. 

“Thanks for the charge!” Mike called out as he left the store. The IMP was still in disbelief about him as he walked out. He wondered if the imp was busy posting on social media about what he had seen. Regardless, he was going to have to get used to it, but at the same time, also avoid too much attention, unlikely as it might seem. 

He had to remind himself not to get too comfortable here. Danger could be anywhere, even just the way these demons drove their cars was hazardous to any pedestrian who chose to go for a stroll. It was kind of fun, just sightseeing the city, but he realized he couldn’t stay too long here, he had a place to be. Just before rounding a corner, he heard singing. Being completely confused, he peeked around the corner to see just what was making that ruckus. Turns out it wasn’t just singing, it was a full-on musical happening right in the middle of the street. Did he stumble upon a film set? But wouldn’t there be roadblocks?

He must have missed at least half of their performance, but it seemed to be some joyful musical about… Someone finally getting a boyfriend or something. He wasn’t sure. He passed the street as quietly as he could, as to not ensure any uncomfortable confrontations. Satisfied he had not spoiled their performance, but finally turned onto the street where the bar was located. Hunting ground was the name. Seemed to very much be a hellhound exclusive place. but the sign on the front very kindly stated that all were welcome here. Time to see if humans are included in that. 

Opening the door, and he had to admit: Loona was right. This was a cozy place, nothing too fancy, and not overcrowded. Though, if his phone’s calendar was to be believed, this was a normal Tuesday. So it was probably unlikely that it would be filled now, probably not until the weekend. Only different types of hellhounds populated the bar, reminding Mike of those furry conventions that they used to hold back on Earth. He had never seen the appeal, but to each their own. Still, granted that these were actual hellhounds, it was still weird seeing living and breathing… well… dogs, or wolves. 

It was time to get the first round. As far as he could see, Loona hadn’t shown up yet. So he walked up to the bar, and ordered two beers. Like the imp at the electronic store, this hellhound was busy on her phone, before she turned her attention to their new customer. While her jaw didn’t hit the counter quite like the imp, the look in her eyes was clearly puzzled. She never stopped staring, even as she popped the cap of two beer bottles and handed it to him. He waited for her to announce a price, but she remained in a quiet study state. “So…. They’re free?” He asked with a smile. The bartender finally shook herself out of her shellshock. 

“Oh, no. 10 bucks.” She requested. He groaned as he fished up the cash to pay her. She rang him up on the teller. He threw a couple of loose dollars into the tip jar on the counter, getting a confused thanks in return, and then picked up his drinks. He looked around and found a free spot in the corner. 

Sitting down, he noticed the ashtray on the table. Thank god laws from Earth don’t necessary translate down here. He quickly lit up a lucky for himself, exhaled some smoke and then took a sip of his beer. He nearly spit it out again. “Christ, this is some strong stuff.” He muttered to himself. Seems like people in hell enjoyed a more potent drink, or at least hellhounds did. They didn’t sell earth brands here, which made him wonder why. There was no copyright law to evade here, well maybe for other companies in hell, but between dimensions? No way. Still, he could deal with stronger drinks, he just didn’t expect it. 

There was a pretty big screen on the wall, showing some sport, which had most of the male patrons glued to it. It suited him just fine, no reason to make a fuss here. He pulled out his phone, and decided to read up a bit on hell, since he had the chance. It was still a few minutes until Loona was due, unless she was delayed, or had simply let him on. Christ, he hoped that wasn’t the case. She seemed sincere enough when she promised to give him locations, so he trusted she hadn’t played some prank on him and sent him into a den of lowlifes and scum. 

Given the situation, he decided to check on what creatures were in hell. The search engine spit out a long list, an entire hierarchy of where people fell in hell. From the demon lords, icons of the sins to sinners, imps and hellhounds. Seems like imps and hellhounds ranked at the very bottom, and the very treated like second hand citizens as a result. Not that he should be surprised, if humans were so likely to either enslave or oppress people, then why would their demonic counterparts be any different? 

Looked over at the bar, it was clear that the bartender was still looking in his direction every now and then. Seemingly texted someone on her phone. He just hoped she wasn’t summoning some mob to beat the shit out of him. But, she didn’t look hateful at all. Still, it was rather hot in here, so he ditched the jacket, took off his shoulder holster, and rolled up his shirt sleeves, exposing his forearm tattoos, relics of a life spent in the military. He smiled as he saw them. Comfort, in a weird way, he was glad he got to keep them. He placed his shoulder holster by his jacket, concealed, but within arms reach if need be. Still keeping his eyes on the phone, he read further on how things ticked down in hell. 

Loona was making her way to the bar, when she received a text. She took out her phone, and saw it was from Betty, the bartender she knew from hunting ground. It was a simple text, informed Loona that she surely wasn’t going to believe this. A human was in their bar, not a sinner, a human. A small smile crept up on her lips as she replied with a simple “I know”. She continued on her walk, looking forward to the beverage that was owed to her. 

It took only a few more moments before she reached the place. Opening the door, it was clear that it wasn’t a busy night, which suited her fine. Looking around the establishment, it didn’t take but a moment for her to spot him in the corner, smoking a cigarette and scrolling on his new phone. She threw a greeting towards Betty, before making her way over to him. She didn’t miss the look of bewilderment from Betty as Loona made her way towards Mike. She threw himself into the seat, Mike looked up and smiled. 

“Sup idiot?” She asked, quickly taking the beer and downed half in record time. Now it was his turn to be amazed. 

“Not too bad. Glad you could come. I forgot how depressing it is to sit in a bar for yourself.” He laughed, still trying to recover from that little stunt she just pulled. He ashed his cigarette in the ashtray. 

“How was the sightseeing tour? As good as on Earth?” She inquired, switching to nursing her beer instead. He chuckled. 

“It’s different, I’ll grant you that. But not better, slightly worse in a lot of ways. But, I’m surprised at how much of a functional society it is. I expected more… Fire and brimstone, I guess. How is it living here?” He turned the question back to her. 

“Not bad. It has everything I need.” She leaned back in her seat. “Earth always felt more… clean. But the people are mostly the same.” 

“You’ve been to Earth?” He asked, sitting up more straight in his seat. This was interesting. But from the look on her, she wasn’t supposed to tell she had been on Earth. A lot like him then, secrets to keep. 

“Well… yes. Part of my work. Lots of demons go to earth all the time.” She answered. 

“I mean… Yeah. I always heard about idiots trying to summon demons, and demons haunting locations and whatnot. I… dunno, just always thought it was bullshit, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised given that heaven and hell was proven to be real.” He admitted. He hadn’t even thought about that angle before, but it made sense. One brick fell in place on the jigsaw puzzle, five more followed close by. 

“Some demons need to get to Earth to survive. Like succubus. The place I work for… also has a need to travel to Earth.” She explained, switching a bit uncomfortably in her seat. 

“Where do you work?” He inquired, mostly out of curiosity. 

“As a secretary for I.M.P. My dad runs the company.” 

He laughed. “Clever abbreviation. What does it stand for?” He asked as he took the beer to his lips and took a healthy gulp. 

“Immediate Murder Professionals.” She said casually. He nearly choked on the strong beer. Then quickly looking at her once he had sort of recovered. 

“What?” He coughed a bit, wiping off the beer that spilled on his face. She clearly didn’t see the problem. 

“Yeah, we kill people. What’s the big deal? You run around killing people as well.” She defended herself. 

“First off: It’s not the same, and you know it.” He pointed out. “And second: Do you go to Earth to kill people? How the hell is that allowed?” He asked, mostly concerned. Demons going to earth and killing people? She sighed in response, like it was an annoying question from a child. Mike could see that Loona really had an attitude problem to some degree. Did she go out of her way to be unlikable? 

“We don’t kill random people. Sinners sent to hell can, if they want, contract us to take out anyone they desire on earth. Usually it’s other bad guys. And it’s not like we haven’t had issues. The court of Satan decided that it was a grave transgression that we used a grimoire to travel back and forth from Earth.” She laid it out. 

“Can’t wrap my head around that. Seems like the type of thing God would have shut down already.” 

“That old man doesn’t care what happens down here. I’m surprised he even hired you losers to stand guard all day, and then ride around in an armored car playing heroic soldiers. Exorcists used to come down every now and then, and purge sinners. But that stopped some time ago.” She could be a real bitch, she wondered if she had many friends, or if everyone spoke that way down here. “I can’t see the difference between my job and yours.” 

He rubbed his temples so hard he was afraid he might make holes on either side. “What I tell you now, must be kept between the two of us. You can’t go around sharing it.” With those words, she suddenly paid full attention, which made Mike aware that this entire conversation had been boring for her so far. “Like I said before. The main reason why we are down here, is to ensure the faithful and good people who are destined for heaven, get to heaven, and that might mean killing those who imprison them. So yeah, we’ll have to crack a few eggs to make an omelet. But these demons and sinners could simply choose not to try and catch souls that do not belong to them.” That was pretty much what he had told her before, so she was losing interest again. “On the base, we have a portal to heaven. Whenever demons and sinners come knocking on the front gates, we assume they are there to try and break in, and take their chances with the portal.” 

Somehow, that got her attention again. She looked at him in disbelief. “A portal? To Heaven?” 

“Does that surprise you?” He asked back, and she pondered for a moment. 

“I guess not. Just figured it would be common knowledge. Most sinners would give up everything they own to try their luck on such a portal… But can demons and sinners even pass through it?” She then inquired. He had wondered the very same thing. 

“I don’t know. As far as I am aware, no one has ever gotten close. I don’t think us soldiers can pass through it, considering that it would be in breach of contract.” 

There was a rather long period of silence, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Just, nice silence. She was a hard nut to crack in most ways, but despite how bitchy she could be, she still decided to come here and chat, even if it was for the free drinks. And with that, Mike stood up, and went for more beers. It didn't take but a moment for him to return. She muttered a thanks as she received the new one. He took out a new cigarette from his pack, and after putting it between his lips, he looked at Loona, who was literally doing puppy eyes asking for one as well. He sighed as offered the pack to her, which she gladly accepted. 

“So, is it fun running around and killing demons?” She asked as she lit her cigarette with her own lighter this time. Mike did the same. He huffed a small laugh after exhaling the smoke. 

“I’m still the new guy on campus. So far, my only responsibilities are guard duty, and training.” He remarked, then picked up his beer for a sip. 

“Ha! You really are a loser!” She laughed. He rolled his eyes at her. 

“Oh yeah, and being the secretary for a murder inc is so much better?” He fired back. 

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Fuck you.” She said, topping it off by giving him the finger. He chuckled. 

“But if you think I want to stay in the same position for… what might as well be eternity, then you are mistaken. I applied for the extraction team. Hopefully, one day, I might ride around in those armored cars, playing soldiers.” Low key mocking her voice when she had said it. 

“Dickhead.” She quickly said. He smiled and took another sip of his beer. “So, that’s your plan? Being an escort for lost idiots?” 

“Pretty much. What’s your plan then, miss perfect? Run paperwork for your dad’s company until the end of time? By the way, how are things between you two?” He realized instantly that he fucked up big time. The look on her face was of hatred. He had struck a sore spot, and he should have known. After all, she had spent an evening sitting on a rock outside of a military base thinking about it. Christ Fitzpatrick, you really fucked up this time. “Hey, I didn’t mean-” 

“Don’t talk to me.” She replied as she got up from her seat at lightning speed. He was desperate for this to not be the end. Regardless of all, she was the first outsider friend he had made here. He quickly gathered his things and ran after her, he had only just gotten his shoulder holster and jacket on by the time he reached the door, and he managed to stop her. 

“Jesus, listen: I’m fucking sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to pour salt on any wounds. My mouth ran faster than my brain and-”

“Yeah, that much is clear.” Her voice was laced with contempt. He couldn’t blame her. 

“I misjudged where we stood. Thought I could shoot the shit, but instead I-... Well, I guess I overstepped. I’m sorry, okay?” He was sincere, for what it was worth. She thought about it for a moment, whether or not she should, or even could, forgive him. He had no right to judge her. He was only here different because he did one good thing in life. “Look, besides my army buddies, you are actually the first real friend I made in a long time that wasn’t a grunt. Hell, even before I died. I don’t want to screw it up so quickly.” 

“Oh yeah? That maybe you should-” 

“HEY IT’S HIM!” A voice proclaimed from behind them. Mike realized they had been talking semi-loudly on a public street. Not actually keeping a low profile as he should. Both that, and some of them hell-spawns that saw him today probably talking with their friends about what they saw. “Think you can come here and partake of hell? You fucker, you kill our brothers!” It was a group of sinners, he counted five. So, everything that he had been warned about was about to come true.

“Easy guys. I’m not looking for a brawl.” He tried to deescalate the situation. Clearly it wasn’t working. 

“You must think you’re real slick going out here, after all that your kind does.” One sinner stepped forward and spat, quite literally, at his feet. He looked over at Loona, but she wasn’t there. Figures, but he couldn’t blame her. This wasn’t her fight. Well, it was time to do or die. Self-defense was alright, afterall. 

He put the gunslingers of old to shame with the speed of which he got his 1911 out. He got two of them, before the last three forced him behind cover on the side of the bar. He wondered if hell had a police force that would show up, and if he even would want that if there was. Still, he was far from out of the woods yet. 

Firing a few more times, he could hear at least two bodies drop, and he figured he had gotten them all, but just in case, he began to reload his pistol. Seems he jumped the gun on that, the last sinner jumped at him from around the corner, and pinned him to the ground. He didn’t have time to react before the sinner’s hands were on his throat, pressing down. He had limited time. There was still a bullet in the chamber, but of course his gun was just out of reach. He tried desperately to reach it anyway. His second death would certainly be one of humiliation, given that this sinner was over a foot shorter than himself.  

Just then, the sinner was dragged from him by his feet. He gulped in the air, coughing as he took his pistol and got it ready. He saw Loona slam the sinner into the wall, and when given the chance, he took the shot. Boom, right through the head. He looked over at Loona, who looked unsure on what to say. 

“Hey.. thanks.” He said as he got up. 

“Whatever…” She replied, checking herself for any blood. “Is that an angelic weapon?” She then asked, pointing to his gun. 

“I think they said they were blessed. Otherwise they would be useless against those who dwell in hell.” He recounted as best he could. “Why?” 

“Oh, no reason. You’re not a bad shot though, even if you could do with a lesson in checking your corners.” She remarked nonchalantly. 

“Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind.” He dusted himself off, then put his gun back in his holster. “I guess I’d better make my way back. I got some explaining to do, and I’d rather not poke the bear anymore than I have to….” He said, then turned to her again. “-But… Thanks, again. And while I would understand if you’d never want to see this ugly mug again, I hope you will still talk to me?” 

“You do have an ugly mug… But I guess I don’t hate you that much.” There was a moment of silence between them. A silent understanding he hoped. “Have fun on your way back.” 

“I will.”

Chapter Text

“WAY TO GO MARONE!” Mike called out as Folco Marone shot the most perfect home run so far in the game. He stood up and cheered from the makeshift bleachers they had built long ago. Looking at them, it was clear they were long overdue for a makeover, but alas, no one really wanted to step forward and be the one to suggest base leadership to replace them. The baseball field was located outside the base on the east side, given that the base inside the base was already tight. They would have to expand it at some point. It would probably be about the 100th time the base has been expanded or upgraded since it was first founded. Sometimes Mike wondered how it had looked back in the day, as far as he understood, it was little more than a tent for Augustus when he first accepted the assignment here. 

It had been over a month and a half since his venture into imp city, and just as long since he had been called to stand at attention and be chewed out by his superiors for creating a situation that could have ended badly, and which almost certainly further souring the already strained relationship between the base and the residents of hell. But, in the end, it was ruled as self defense, and he had leave taken from him for two months. Not too bad all things considered. Though Loona seemed to have had a long laugh about it when he had texted her after the fact, said it served him right. He had allowed her a victory lap, but it didn’t take long before they settled in some daily banter between each other. He quite enjoyed the outside perspective. “Cough it up Rowland.” Mike demanded as he held his hand out. 

Robert groaned in displeasure as he handed Mike a pack of cigarettes.”He just got lucky, is all.” Robert remarked as he settled back. “Don’t get used to it, kid.” He warned. 

Mike laughed. “He’d make a good red sox, if we were back on earth.” Mike commented, and Robert shot him a sideway glance. 

“Sure, he’d fit right in with those panties. Yankees are better any day of the goddamn week.” One of the few gripes that still persisted, rivals in geography. Mike was Massachusetts born and bred, while Robert was from the Bronx in New York. That, and the difference in culture in regards to the time they lived. There really was a huge difference between America in the 1940’s, and America in the present day. 

“Keep coping, my man.” Mike laughed as he took a lucky strike from the pack he had just earned fair and square. Mike quickly lit it up with his lighter, exhaling the smoke as he turned his attention back to the game. He figured he had to sign himself up for the baseball club soon enough, looked fun enough, but he hadn’t played since middle school. Just before he was about to bring out his phone and gloat to Loona, he was interrupted by the arrival of Logan. 

“Afternoon lads. How are ye holding up?” He asked as he took a seat. 

“Not too shabby.” Mike replied, Robert sighed to show he didn’t agree. Logan chuckled as he settled into the seat. But before they could start any conversation, they heard the sound of the armored cars starting up. Two of them sped off the base, off to extract some poor bastard. “I feel like the rate of extraction has gone up over the last month.” Mike commented. 

“Yer not wrong, lad. I think we went from two to three times a week, to at least one time daily now.” Logan agreed, looking towards the convoy of two vehicles as he sped through the road to the city, soon to join with the traffic. Given what Mike had seen during his venture into the city, they probably blended right in with the way people drove here in hell. “Can I bum a fag?” Logan asked, referring to the cigarette pack. Mike laughed, he would never get used to that. 

"Courtesy of Mr. Rowland.” Mike smiled as he handed the pack to Logan. 

“Yeah yeah, don’t let it get to your head, kid. It’s big enough already.” Robert flipped him off. 

“Oh, how kind of you Robert.” Logan said with a thumbs up, before fishing out a cigarette, and lighting it up with a match, before handing the pack back to Mike. 

“So, are spikes in the rate of abductions normal?” Mike then asked, taking another drag of his cigarette. 

“Depends, there have been periods of increased activity over the years. Not really what concerns me to be honest, I think it’s rather more concerning that the lost souls that we extract seem to be alone when we find them.” Robert said. 

“What do you mean?” Mike inquired. He had heard no such things. 

“Fritz said the ones they saved were alone, no demons around when they arrived to rescue them. Apparently the souls claim that there were some demons there then were pulled in, but they performed some chant and quickly left. I… dunno, seems like a conspiracy. Or maybe just some demons trying out their magic, without sticking around to see the consequences.” Robert explained. 

“Ay, who knows lad.” Logan shrugged. “As long as we can keep up with the extractions, then there is no need to worry, even if we have to pull double shifts to cover the extract teams.” Logan reassured Mike with a pad on his back. He wasn’t that worried, at least not yet. Even if what Robert explained could very well end up being serious in due time. For now, he was a grunt, mostly on guard duty. His opinion didn’t matter much anyhow. 

Before they could say anymore, they noticed Augustus walked up to them. Still wearing his, what they would call, enhanced roman armor. Given that he preferred his sword and shield, his armor had been blessed as well, to ensure he wasn’t cut down by the first bullet fired in his direction. All of them quickly got up, and saluted the centurion. There was no requirement to do so, but most of the people on the base offered their respect to the oldest one there. By all accounts, the founder of the base. “Ave.” Augustus greeted. All of them greeted him back, being sure to add a sir at the end of the sentence. 

“I thought you were out with the extraction team, sir?” Mike asked. 

“Butcher 2 is out there now. I suspect we shall soon be called on for another extraction though.” 

“So you’re here to see the game?” Robert then inquired, gesturing out to the field where a dozen players were still playing. Augustus casually observed it for a small moment, before turning back to them again. 

“No. I could never understand this sport. I have tried to introduce chariot racing, but none wish to join me in setting it up.” Augtustus remarked, and it was hard to determine if he was truthful or not. Always seemed like he had the same resting… well, people called it resting bitch face. Although Mike would never point such a thing out to the centurion, lest he be strung up and crucified. “I am here to fetch you, corporal Fitzpatrick.” Augtustus said as he looked over at Mike. 

Fetch him? For what? Was all Mike could think. He had already gotten his punishment for what he did. Was there more the leadership wished to add? Or had he missed something? “Yes sir.” Mike said as he got up, ashed his cigarette and followed the Roman. He said his goodbyes to Logan and Robert as he walked off. They walked through the east gate back into the base, passing by the barracks and armory, before finally entering the command building. A place few people casually entered, overlord was based here, alongside the fort commander and most of the senior leadership. 

The current commander was once a Prince of Hungary, truly noble: In both the good and the bad ways. Proud, steadfast, stubborn. His name was Vladislaus, though he assured everyone he wasn’t Vladislaus the second… Even though Mike had no idea who that even was. Anyhow, if relating to Robert or Logan was hard at times, relating at all to Vladislaus was nigh on impossible. Vladislaus had died fighting the Ottomans. He had defied orders and standard conduct to save his army, then died making a final stand with a few soldiers as the rest escaped. 

But, there were two other high ranking commanders: Colonel Walter Jenkins, a US army colonel that had died in the 1950’s. The most interesting thing was that he was the only one Mike knew of that had died not in combat, but instead saving everyone he could after a car crash in Korea, refusing to be attended to before everyone else was… Yeah, that costed him his life. The other one was the only one on the base who hadn’t been in the military, he had been a police man from Mexico, serving with the federal police, saved a whole bunch of children during a raid on a cartel base. His name was Carlos Alvarado, and from the few times Mike had spoken with him, he had been a kind man and understanding man, with a good sense of humor as well. 

Mike sometimes wondered if they had risen the ranks because they were different in those regards. All of them were good leaders, even if Vladislaus had more or less made himself camp commander, everyone kept accepting his authority because it had been running more or less smoothly under his tenure. Mike took a deep breath as he stepped into the office of the camp commander, finding Vladislaus seated at the desk, Jenkins looked out the window and Carlos standing right beside Vladislaus. 

“Corporal Fitzpatrick?” Vladislaus asked, looking up at Mike. 

“Yes sire!” Mike stood at firm attention, feeling his spine might snap. Gracefully enough, Vladislaus had lowered himself from being addressed as his royal highness to just sire now. Maybe it was a bit easier, but one still had to remember to still address him correctly. 

Vladislaus just hummed as he wrote something down in a big log book. There was a great bit of awkward silence as Mike continued to stand at attention. He stopped writing, tapping his pen against the book and seemed to think for a moment. Then he went back to writing again. 

“We have you listed as a potential candidate for the extraction team. You have volunteered for it, correct?” Vladislaus inquired. 

“Yes sire!” Mike was quick to reply. Silently hoping he was about to hear the news he was craving, and at the same time wondering if he was going to be allowed to stand at ease any time soon. Given that Vladislaus was being silent for a long time, Jenkins finally took the hint and began speaking. 

“We’ve had an abnormal amount of abductions in the past weeks. To keep pace, we are putting together a new team-” 

“A temporary team!” Vladislaus clarified with a raised finger. “This is an overblown reaction, but since I have been strong-armed into this by my colleagues, we are putting a new team together. Only a small one. You and four others.” 

“Like Vladislaus says, it’s only until it calms down again, so don’t expect it to last forever. We’ve had increased periods of abductions before, so it usually blows over.” Jenkins reaffirmed. 

“Heaven sent us your record. You seem like a good soldier, and a good enough squad leader. So that’s why we are giving you this chance, hermano.” Carlos said. "Augustus and I will train you for the next week, alongside the 4 other members that we will choose.” He then added. 

“Yes. We will send further orders for you in the coming days. Meeting adjourned. You are dismissed… Sergeant” Vladislaus said, with the smallest hint of a smile on his face, but it was impossible to hide the smile on Mike’s face on what he had just been told. He said his thanks as he was escorted back out, and even Augustus shook his hand and congratulated him. 

Could this day get any better? He thought, only to feel his phone vibrate. He took it out, and saw a text from Loona. 

“Still in trouble with daddy?” It was so textbook her. 

“Nah, I think I’m finally coming out of the dog house. You’ll never guess what just happened.” He texted back, and he didn’t need to wait but a moment for her to reply. 

“Don’t have to. I guess u will tell me.”   

“You’re no fun.” He wrote back with a smile. 

“Whatever. U gonna tell me or what?” 

“Still got about two weeks left in the dog house, hah, get it? Dog house because you’re… well you know.” 

“Go fuck urself.” Was the reply. Sure, she didn’t appreciate the dog jokes, but if she felt like poking him, then he’d be sure to poke right back. 

“Anyway. I was just told they’ll make a new extraction team, and I’ll be squad leader. So it looks like I’m moving up in the world.” 

“Sounds boring as fuck.” 

“Christ, you are relentless.” 

“U’re just jealous old man.” 

“I’M NOT OLD!” 

Still, somehow, he enjoyed their banter. 

She loved ragebating Mike. It was so easy, just a few words and she could get him real mad. In some ways, just like Moxxie. It had been a hectic day, but another hour and they could close up. Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie were on their final run of the day. Some dick who had earned themselves a hit because they were lucky. Yup, that’s what the briefing said. Apparently this guy had always been lucky. 

“Anyhow, how is work on your end?” Mike had asked over text. 

“Boring rn. Dad is on a mission.” 

“What kind of mission? Or is that confidential?” 

“Just some loser who got a contract on his head. Not worth talking about.” She put her phone down and turned her attention to the computer screen. Just then, Stolas walked in, contemplating on some paper work. Moxxie must have been at least a little happy there was someone around who enjoyed reading the paperwork. She really couldn’t be fucked to even take a look at it. 

Come to think of it, Stolas might just be well informed enough to know about the fort. She internally debated herself for over a minute whether she should ask or not, and just how she should phrase it if she did. She still wasn’t totally sure about him, with him being with her dad and all, but he was… well, kind enough. 

“Hey… Stolas?” She finally asked. 

“Hmmm, yes dear?” He asked back, looking up from the paperwork. His posh accent did grind her nerves at times, but she refrained from saying anything this time. 

“Do you know anything about those dorks out on the military base at the edge of town?” 

He hummed. “You mean Fort Redux?” So he did know about it. 

“Yes, that’s the one. Those people who roll around and kill demons.” 

“Ah, common misconception. While yes, they do sometimes kill the residents here, their job is… as far as I have read, to extract souls not meant for hell.” Stolas explained, which lined up pretty well with what Mike had told her. Which she guessed made him less of a bullshitter than she had imagined. “Pretty much the only presence heaven has in hell. I believe the men who guard the fort are all chosen by some merit of redemption. All quite fascinating, too bad I heard all of them are dull, so serious.” Stolas explained. “Why do you ask.” 

“Just feel like I seen thodr cars of theirs driving around more often. No one seems to know anything about them… Can you really pull people into hell that are meant for heaven?” Loona asked, sure Mike had said that was a thing, but she had never heard any mention of it before him. 

“Hmmm? Oh yes. The spell is quite simple really. I think I even had it written down in one of my grimoires back at the estate-” And with the mention of his estate, Stolas’ expression turned on a dime. He still wasn’t over what had happened, mostly about his daughters. Loona understood the pain, especially the pain that Octavia must have been feeling as well. “-Anyway. I have never performed it, because I know I would have been due a visit from the soldiers from the Fort if I did. But plenty of apprentices or novices in the field of magic try it out without regard for the consequences. The spell itself was leaked from Lucifer's own book of magic over 2000 years ago by one of his own apprentices.” 

“What happened to the apprentice?” She asked curiously. 

“I am not sure… The only thing I read was that he was cast out as punishment, but the story reports nothing more than that.” Stolas replied with a shrug. Clearly he didn’t care too much for the story, and Loona suspected there probably wasn’t much more to the story anyway. But it did made Loona wander. 

“Any idea on how they know where the person doing the spell is?”

“Angelic magic no doubt. They probably get their information from heaven. Not that it matters, unless you plan on performing the spell?” 

“What? No! I couldn’t care less to be honest.” She half-lied. Stolas’ expression clearly read as him not really believing her, but before he could confront her on the fact, the portal from Earth opened up, and out came Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie. 

“By satan’s hairy asshole! How can anyone be that lucky!” Blitzo complained. All of them looked a mess, but injured… just… Messed up. 

“Oh dear! What happened?” Stolas quickly went up to his lover to comfort the poor imp. Pulling him into a hug that Blitzo clearly wasn’t in the mood for. 

“That dickless asshole just kept on escaping our attempts on his pathetic life. I try and snipe him, he stops and picks up a coin from the street at that exact moment! Millie try and get him from behind with a knife, someone opens their car door in just that moment, boom, knocks her down on her ass. Moxxie even tried dropping a piano on him, and he gets a call just then, and walks in the other direction!” Blitzo groaned loudly, getting out of Stolas’ grasp and slumps down. 

Loona laughs at his misfortune. Sounds too funny not to, she only quiets it down to a chuckle when she gets the side eye glance from her dad. “So, how did you kill him?” 

“Oh you’ll never believe it, sugar.”Millie starts as she walks over to the desk. “Just as we are formulating a new plan, a man drops a plain old banana peel from his third story window. Our target trips and falls into traffic.” She snickered. 

“Guess he wasn’t that lucky after all.” Loona laughed again, but calmed herself before Blitzo would get angry again. She quickly updated the contract from on-going to completed in the files on the computer. And with that, the day was done. Time to head home once Blizo had cooled off. So, in the meantime, she fished out her phone again. 

“Looking forward to a week of hardcore training, so I might be difficult to reach in the meantime.” Mike had texted her earlier. She thought about whether or not she should invite him to the party Beelzebub had planned. Urg… She didn’t even know why was debating it, she should just go alone. Then again… Last time it didn't pan out too well. 

“When do u have leave again?” She quickly typed out and sent. She had hardly put the phone down before she had her reply. 

“If I stay on the straight and narrow, two weeks. Why do you ask?” 

“There is a party I am planning to go to. I’ll send u details.”

Chapter Text

Standing by the doorway, Mike readied his shotgun. He looked to his squad members, who all nodded. Time to put this show on the road he thought as he shot the hinges off the door with two well placed shots. And with that, his squad stormed into the room, quickly disposing of the paper targets, except for one that is, the one they came to save. 

“Excellent work amigos!” Carlos praised them over the speakers. “Now show me your defensive formation for if another group attacks you while securing your target!” He quickly ordered. They did as trained, gathering together in a close circle around the VIP. Another good job was heard over the speakers. And just like that, their final exam was over. 

It had been almost two weeks of training. Most of it text book extraction stuff, clearing rooms and close quarters fighting. He had hoped he would have been able to pick his squad, but they had been picked for him. Not that he minded too much in the end though, they were all good at their job, and they seemed in good enough spirits, and they were able to take a joke. That counted for a lot more than one might think. You’ll have to trust the man that has your six, and being friendly is a good start. 

Vasily, Tomasz, Eyup and Max. Russian, Polish, Turkish and Austrian respectively. If one knew anything about history, that was a dangerous combination, but these men have had a long time to settle their differences, and they had all died during different periods in history. Mike gave them all a pad on the back and told them it was a job nicely done. 

Carlos walked out to greet them in the training area. He was smiling, and shook the hand of all of them. “Nice work guys. I dare say you are ready for duty.” The Mexican smiled, the joyous kind that would make everyone else smile purely based on that, nevermind the message that they were now ready for action. 

“I concur. I figure a small squad like yours will be perfect for the easier extractions. In and out within five minutes.” Augustus appeared and agreed. Mike was really looking forward to field work, besides the sinners that had tried to kill him outside of hunting ground, there had been no excitement in his time here. And… well, something inside him wanted to help the people in need as well. He had never really felt it before his convoy was hit in Afghanistan, not the burning desire he has now. 

“For the first few missions, you’ll have Augustus with you. Just so he can show you the robes, and make sure everything goes smoothly.” Carlos instructed. Augustus looked over at them and gave a slight nod. This was fine, it was welcomed in fact.“Before I forgot. Here are your new patches.” Carlos handed them a set of patches to be put on their uniform. A skull with rays of light protruding out of it, angelic almost. They were now Butcher 3. “If that’s all, then take a stroll over to the garage and see the new ride we picked up for your team. Benjamin and Zhan are working on it.” Carlos dismissed them. Mike gave a smile and a nod, and thanked Carlos and Augustus for the training they had received. 

Saying his farewell to his team mates, he went off to the garage. It was only a short walk to the dedicated building, finding Benjamin and Zhan inside, working on a vehicle he was all too familiar with. It looked a lot like the RG-33 they had back when he was deployed, obviously updated with more armour plating and a new paintjob to boot. Maybe if he had been driving one of those the day he died, things would have been different… But alas, one could never be sure of such things. 

“She’s a beast, ain’t she?” Benjamin laughed as he saw Mike walk into the shop. 

“You got that right. Always wanted to take one of those for a spin.” Mike replied, still looking at the mighty war beast in awe. 

“Well, now’s your chance, guvna. Are you the designated driver?” He asked as he put the massive hood down. 

“No sir. That would be Vasily. I heard he spent plenty of time driving trucks in Chechnya. Figured it would be more up his alley.” 

“Well, she specced to take on pretty much all kind of small arms fire, she’s mine resistant and should be able to take a hit or two from an RPG. She’s specced to 450 hp, and can ram through a reinforced wall or parked cars no problem. There’s almost nothing that can stop her.” 

“How fast can she drive?” Mike asked as he opened the driver side door. While they probably had a much bigger budget than any army on earth, given that Heaven was their benefactor, there was still some room for improvement. Not in the hardware department mind you, but leather seats would go a long way. 

“About 70 mph, give or take.”  Benjamin washed his dirty hands in the sink, then wiped them clean with a rag. “I guarantee you: nothing gonna stop you.” He smiled. 

“That’s nice to hear.” Mike said as he closed the door again, and hopped down from the side step. “The keys are in the ignition?” 

“Yup. She’s ready to go whenever you lads get called on a mission.” Benjamin promised. “Oh, and congratulations on your promotion as well.” He offered his newly washed hand for a handshake, one Mike eagerly accepted. 

“Thanks man. Been a long time coming.” 

“Not as long as some others have waited. I wonder if your little field trip was the test they needed, to see if someone came along that actually had the bollocks to step up.” Benjamin theorized. “What do you think, Zhen?” He asked his co-worker, who finally rolled out from under the RG-33. 

“I think you talk too much, English man.” He quickly muttered, before rolling back under the truck. Benjamin laughed. 

“Anyway, run along. You should probably get your weapons and armor sorted by the armory.” Benjamin suggested, sending Mike off on his way. Mike smiled as he heard the two mechanics arguing loudly over something as he walked off. These place was full of characters, and sometimes it felt like the servicemen had been chosen based on having every single outlook on life, instead of the heroic act all of them had performed in their last moments in life. 

So, armory it was. Also maintained by a set of characters. Might as well get some high quality gear for the extraction missions that were sure to come, especially if the current rate kept on going. Mike still couldn’t get what Robert had said out of his head, and he was eager to see if it was true. 

“Evening Jan.” Mike greeted as he walked into the heavily fortified building. The man on the other side of the metal bars was a Dutch man, a bit weird, but a lovely man none-the-less. He just had a habit of saying the weirdest shit. Always made Mike wonder if he had fried his brain taking drugs like the Dutch are known for. 

“Ah, Fitzpatrick! How are you?” Jan asked as he put down the book he was reading. “Talk of the town is that you are now a part of the extraction team!” He excitedly remarked. “You know, I once applied for the program. Didn’t make the cut.” He said. 

“Yeah, just got the patch.” Mike padded his upper arm to show the new patch. Jan let out a low whistle. “Anyway, I’m here to look at some hardware.” He said, and somehow Mike hoped he was going to get treated like that Keanu Reeves movie with the weapon dealer scene. 

“Tell me what you need.” Jan said as he sat himself by the computer. Probably ready order the supplies. 

“I’ll stick with my M4 as main service weapon. But how about an upgrade for the shotgun?” He asked. Jan typed in some stuff on the computer, and then went into the back to look. He came back not a minute later with a brand new shotgun. 

“Benelli M4. Most excellent.” He said as he handed it to Mike through the little open window in the metal bars. Mike tested its grip in his hands. He took aim to test the sights, and generally went through all the steps. It felt good, and he gave Jan a nod. “Good. What else?” 

“New pistol. The SIG is nice and all, but do we have anything else?” Mike asked, and Jan hummed as he looked something up on the computer again. Once again, setting off and returning in a short moment. 

“Modern 1911. 45 acp, with double stack mag. Giving you 14 rounds with incredible stopping power. Ain’t no demon escaping judgement with this. Here, have a new holster as well.” Jan handed him both the pistol and holster. Once again, Mike tested it out. It felt good. “And new body armor as well. Should give you even more protection out in the field.” Jan fished out some new equipment and handed it to Mike, who accepted it all with a smile. 

“Mind if I try out the weapons on the range?” Mike requested. Jan nodded and unlocked the door to the in-door range. Stepping inside, Mike was in for some fun. 

Loona did her best to ignore her dad’s knocks on her door. They had an argument that morning about her going out in a couple days, and the excessive use of nicknames he was using to try and coat her out of her room certainly wasn’t helping. She knew he loved her, that much was obvious, but… It just felt like he was so overbearing with his love. 

Not that it mattered now, she was trying to coordinate her and her friend's trip to Beelzebub’s grand party in a few days. It was gonna be crazy, and almost certainly a good time. She knew Vortex, Gigi and Russ would be there, and she knew it was always a good time with them around. 

A notification on her phone reminded of the other person she had invited. Mike, the soldier boy from the fort. He had sent her a text. She still didn’t quite know how to place him. He could be a real asshole, but also pretty fun to chat with. Or maybe she just thought he’s whole situation was interesting and wanted to know more. A group of souls bound to serve and protect some stupid fort. 

She opened the message, it was a picture of a shooting range with some guns laid out on the table. “Got some new toys.” He added with a text. She rolled her eyes, of course he would think that was cool. 

“Booooring.” She wrote back, adding a yawning emoji. She had seen better hardware long ago. Say what you will about her dad, but he was well stocked with weapons. 

“Well excuse me! Can’t have shit nowadays.” She knew it was a sarcastic tone he employed for it. “Oh, check this out.” He sent a photo of a patch, a skull with light rays coming out of it. It was nicely made. 

She simply replied with “u joined the choir?” 

He sent back a rolling eyes emoji. “I passed my final exam. Officially on the extraction team now. So you might see me out and about on the town more often now.” She wondered if she would one day read about an ambush on that extract team, and he would be dead. The idea made her more sad that she thought it would. 

“good for u.” Was the quick reply from Loona. Obviously she didn’t want to vent any of these thoughts, especially over text. “u still up for the party?” Was the subject she was more interested in. 

“Sure. I got 24 hours leave in 2 days, so I should be ready. Still haven’t had a crazy night out yet, will this party be sick?” 

“u bet your ugly ass it will be. Beelzebub hosts the best parties. will probably be too much for u.” She smiled as she typed. He was no doubt a light weight. 

“Wait and see party girl.” He wrote. Oh yeah, it was gonna be fun to drink him under the table. She wondered what kind of trouble she could get him into. 

Mike test fired both of the new guns he had just received. They worked like a charm, and there was something comforting about just letting loose at the range, especially when you didn’t have your CO screaming in your ear. It was almost easy to forget the outside world, to forget he was actually in hell. 

Hell. It was still hard to wrap his head around it some days. Despite the revelation that he had been dead about four years already, everything had felt like it was natural even. Everyone is a crying mess when they finally get sent here, well most people usually. The idea of losing everyone and everything is a hard thing to stomach, but Mike guessed that since all soldiers posted to the base had gone through it, they were some of the best help around for it. They need when to give you space, and when to talk. There were hardly any taboo subjects with most of the soldiers. Sure, some of them preferred the quiet solitude, to just do your job and not make friends. It was a valid outlook and a reminder that despite sharing similar demises, all of them were still different. Still people. 

His thoughts began to drift to this party Loona had invited him to. Last time had just been the two of them in that bar, but now it was some big event, which this Beelzebub hosted pretty regularly. The sin of gluttony. He hadn’t mentioned the party to anyone else on the base, mostly because he was pretty sure it would get him exiled if he did. He supposed a party hosted by the icon of gluttony would be pretty sick, all things considered. Loona of course couldn’t guarantee his safety, and there would be sinners at the party, so it was possible that he might be attacked, but as far as he could read on hell’s version of the internet, trouble was generally frowned upon at these parties. 

Still, he was looking forward to spending time in person with Loona. He wondered if the friends she mentioned would be nice to be around as well. Only time would tell. Mike made his way back into Jan’s shop, wherein Mike praised both of the choices that Jan had picked out for him. Jan smiled at the praise, and as Jan began to go on about some story with absolutely no relevance to what they had just talked about, Mike’s eyes lingered over the gold lined box behind the bars. 

He always wondered what was inside it. It must be some sort of weapon, otherwise it wouldn’t be in the armory, but what exactly was it? The box looked old, ancient craftsmanship, but clearly skilled hands had done it. It had been the subject of speculation amongst the troops for some time, yet none of them had mustered up the courage to actually ask…. It just seemed like… one shouldn’t inquire about it. 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the beeping of his radio. Already? He thought. No time like the present for a field trial of his new equipment he guessed. Excusing himself from the riveting story Jan was currently telling, Mike put on his new equipment in record time, stormed out of the door to meet his team at their new vehicle. Obviously Augustus was the first one there, patiently waiting for the rest of them. The rest of the squad were there within a few minutes, also dolled up like they were rolling into Fallujah, not that where they were going was any better. 

“Extract mission. Here is the briefing.” Augustus handed over a dossier, and Mike quickly skimmed through it. Female, about 26 years of age. There was a picture of her, she was a pretty little thing, blonde hair, blue eyes, short. She looked almost angelic. Her name was Alise. Time to see if they could get her out of here before she became too traumatized by hell. They all settled themselves into the RG-33, and then Vasily sped off, quickly passing through the gate and towards the city. 

He could already feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins. He could hardly sit still. They knew very little about the place they were going, which was usually the case, unless you were a veteran of the extraction team, they tended to have seen it all. The place was a warehouse district. It would be interesting to see if they would encounter hostiles or not. It was hard enduring the wait as Vasily drove without regard for the traffic laws, but from what Mike had seen, very few in hell really cared all that much about the traffic laws anyway. 

About ten minutes later, they arrived at the dodgy warehouse district, they all had a homing beacon in their personal radio to help find the lost soul. They drove right up to the marked building, Vasily stayed with the truck as the rest of them rushed out, weapons in hand, and formed a line on both sides of the door. Mike locked eyes with Augustus, who gave him a nod, and with that, Mike shot the hinges off the door. Eyup chugged a flashbang through the doorway. Hearing the loud bang, they all rushed inside as per their training. 

What they saw was the circle the sinners had used to hijack the poor girl from her trip to heaven, they were standing around her, knives in hand. They had apparently been cutting her up, torturing her. All for the grand crime of not being a bad person. It didn’t take but a moment for them to kill all the sinners. Mike immediately attended to Alise. 

“Confirm your name.” Mike requested as he took out his medkit. Another nice perk of being part of Heaven’s task force in hell, was the medical supplies they had. They didn’t miss anything, and the stims they offered were great. They could heal any wounds within just a few days after injection. 

“What?” The poor girl was tear stricken, barely able to let the words out. He rubbed a spot on her upper arm, then injected her. 

“Your name, miss?” He asked again. 

“Alise Bennett.” She replied weakly. Even though she had only been in hell for about 20 minutes, lord knows it’s more than enough time to be emotionally scared forever. 

“You’re safe now.” Mike reassured her as he finished the injection. He could instantly see the effects begin to take hold, and she seemed to calm down a bit. “Overlord. This is Butcher 3. VIP secured. Moving to extract. Over.” He said into his radio, not bothering to wait for a response as he turned his attention back to her. “Can you walk?” He asked, and to her credit, she tried to rise up, but the cuts on her leg still didn’t agree with her. Seems like this called for a carry. He picked her in a bridal carry pose. When he looked over at Augustus, he saw the Roman burning a book, then throwing it on the ground. He assumed it was the grimoire the sinners had used to perform the ritual to pull this poor girl into hell. “Tomasz, Eyup and Max. Tight formation, we’re moving out.” He ordered. 

In and out within 10 minutes. 30 minutes from the call had been received at base. Not too bad if he had to say so himself. But all of that paled in comparison to the look of relief on Alise’s face as they drove her back to base. Obviously she hadn’t even gotten over the fact that she had died, in a car crash none-the-less, then she found herself in hell. Must have seemed like a real shitty eternity she had ahead of her, but being told that she was destined for heaven had at least put her mind somewhat at ease. He couldn’t help but smile as he saw Augustus escort her to the portal back at the base. 

Almost made him wish he had helped more people when he was alive. But he was paying the price for all he had done in life now. At least he had this chance to help others now.