Chapter 1

            The year is 1945 and all of Germany was in flames. The Allied powers had finally turned the tide of war, bringing the Axis to their knees. In the middle of the shit show taking place, there was one individual having his own war, but it was inside his head.

            Adolf Hitler, age 56, leader of the Axis powers and bringer of ww2, was currently sitting in his Führerbunker, it was based near 9 meters beneath the garden of the old Reich Chancellery, 130 meters north of the new Reich Chancellery. Besides being fucking deep underground, the Führerbunker had significantly more reinforcement, making it impenetrable to the current arms the Allied powers had on hand. This, of course, didn’t stop the battle being played out in the bunker.

            There was a small tray of food that was prepared for his dinner, but the taste was meaningless. The decorations that hung on the back of every wall, worthless. The only comfort that Adolf Hitler had left was the gold inlaid P-38 that sat on his desk. It was fully loaded, but what might be the target for the sight of the gun, some may ask? To answer that question, you would need to know that Hitler had some demons, one to be exact.

The low sulfur voice whispered into his ear, speaking of the atrocities he had committed. It painted a picture of what would happen if the Allied powers got ahold of him, and none of that was making it easy for Hitler. But there was an out, sorta speak. The demon with its burning gaze stood behind him, looking at first the gun, then at him. IT picked up the gun and set it in front of the Führer, placing it within arm’s reach. The ticking of the pocket watch he held in one hand showed a picture of an unknown girl in an unknown time. The regrets that ran through his mind of what could have been were as poisonous as the words spoken by the demon.

The black shadow spoke again, pushing out brimstone and smog into his ear, wincing from the heat the words carried he reached for the gun. The safety wasn’t on this special model made for him. It was so that in case he ever had to draw it out, he could just point and shoot without dealing with the thing. He did just that, pointing the barrel under his chin. Taking one last look at the picture of the girl of possibility, he pulled the trigger.

The room settled into a stillness after the loud sound the gun made. That could only happen without life in the room. The shadowy shape of the demon went over to the cold fireplace. The Führer didn’t bother with. Lighting, it crouched down, breathing out. The flames poured through its mouth, bringing light and warmth to the room, making the dark room a little brighter. It didn’t bother to look back at the horrid scene it made; it stepped through the wide mouth of the fireplace, disappearing into the flames it had created.

When the Allied powers finally broke through the steel reinforced door, they would come across what was once left of one of the greatest threat the world had ever seen. Little did they know that the cause of the death was something much worse than the man with the hole through his head.

The Demon that went through the fireplace came into being overlooking the realm that birthed it. Hel, not the one in religious text, but damn close to it. It had existed before earth was colonized and the masses made up a ridiculous story about the end of the world and what not. No, this was a place that had been around longer than the particles that circled the planet. The demon that was walking at a slow pace was making his way over to one of the tallest buildings in the burning hell scape. The endless realm that housed his species was one of pain and misery, but that didn’t seem to slow him down.

He got to a platform that was made of charred bodies with a rail system that reached to the top of the obsidian tower. The tower was on the outskirts of the burning scape but was tall enough to see most of everything in the vicinity of Hel. The owner of the building was one that was much older than our demon here. It was his boss.

Getting to the top would have been a lot longer if it wasn’t for the fact that no one was stupid enough to fuck with the thing up there. Well, most of everyone. The dark figure of the demon that made the journey was one of those such beings. He didn’t give a damn what was happening as long as he was left out of it. The figure made it to the top after taking his time walking across the endless corridors, finally making it in front of an opalescent door frame. The doors on the frame were pure gold inlaid with different gems and jewels, but that didn’t mean anything to him.

Entering through the big doors, the slow demon came to the penthouse with a refined, decorated room overlooking the torrent of Hel. He calmly walked to the table where the other figure sat. The thing was black as tar. The only color was the suit that it painstakingly kept clean as it ate a buffet of crustations. The suit was tailored to fit to the wide thing, in colors of blue and white. It was of 15th century France, with all the frills and puff collars. The leotard was new, but that didn’t matter. Why he was here talking to this discussing thing was beyond him, but that was just what is.

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“Fiery Hel, Aeshma! Could you try to be a little more decent than wearing that getup, At least show yourself so we can start your next killing.” The dark demon said. “The next thing you’ll do will be just skipping these little talks of ours!” the voice of the fat demon was something you would hear a pig squeal, all squeaks and snorts. But if you were to think this was all the demon could do, then you had a rude awakening. The speaker was Beelzebub, demon of gluttony. One of seven princes and princesses of Hel, and he was known to be cruel.

Our demon shifted, coming into his demon form with burgundy skin, tall swirling horns that came out over two and a half feet. The suit he had on was black with blood red trim. He was a little smaller than the fat bastard, but was known to be just as dangerous. His jet-black hair hung low to the small of his back. Golden eyes peaked through the strands, bring a sense of wildness. His good looks were near as good as the princess of lust, Lilith. She was always pissed that he was a close second.

“The fuck do you have your horns out for!” Beelzebub shouted, standing up straight knocking the table of food over. His horns were coming out now, but wasn’t as long as Aeshma. “Are you trying to start something!” he waddled to the far wall of glass, popping a red lever out. Aeshma simple stood there waiting for the puggy fuck to calm down. He always did this when he made too fast of a movement. This time just happens to be about showing his horns. In the realm of Hel, when a demon showed his horns the sources of their power, it usually meant that they were trying to show dominance over the other. In this case, Aeshma simply forgot to stop them from appearing, showing that he had little care for the topic at hand.

“Aw, that too bad. Thought I could get a reaction out of you this time.” Beelzebub said. The tone in his voice didn’t share any of the emotion that he was trying to put in front of Aeshma. The table slowly got set up right by the wave of Beelzebub’s hand, placing the food back on it as if it was never knocked off.

The conversation slowly picked back up when he threw down a folder that was velvet and inlaid with gold trim. On the packet was a name and a brief description of the person, making clear that it was now down to business. Aeshma grabbed the folder quickly running through the pages, seeing where and how he could find his target in the slowest way possible. It’s not that he didn’t care, but just went through this too many times to count that it was all too boring to him. Beelzebub picked up on his disappointment about being sent back and smiled. The wicked teeth in his mouth were anything but friendly.

“I know, too soon for you to go back out again but hey, that’s shitty management for ya!” He bellowed, falling into a soul tearing laughter. “But just think of all the xp that you’re gonna get after this was all done! Like what level are you anyway, has to be getting up there, right?” The question was the same: wherever he went, what level and skills does he have, but he never shared. The level was locked same with his skills when he went topside. It was like the System wasn’t even there to register growth when he went to Earth.

            He looked Beelzebub in the face as he got up to go. “I’m getting bored being sent to kill insignificant beings while the rest of you just sit there drink wine and partying. After this, I’m done for a while.” The words he said left chills up Beelzebub’s back as it sounded dark and gravely. The tones that came out were of truth and despair that Beelzebub just couldn’t listen to. He fell back to his chair as blood came pouring out.

“YOU KNOW NOT TO TALK. TRUTH SPEEKER!” The pain given to him by the words Aeshma said had Beelzebub in a rage.

“You will do nothing,” Aeshma said. It echoed through the room, bringing Beelzebub out of his chair and to his knees. The conversation was done, and he had his target to kill.

Beelzebub stayed put there for a while until he was sure that Aeshma had left. He got up struggling and made his way to the red lever. He pulled it down, making a group of low demons enter. “Get OUT!” he screamed, making all but one leave. “I don’t care what you have to do, but do EVERYTHING you can to make sure that Aeshma doesn’t return!” The small Imp ran out of the building head to the firepit that was intended on being used as emergencies. This probably qualified as one.

The Imp was named Bonitte and had been working for Beelzebub for over four hundred years. This was the first time that it had gotten a mission to do anything other than cleaning up the craps it was left to eat. The pure eagerness it had to please its master was something all imps were born with.

It pooffed in the inner workings of the main engineering chamber that housed the fire pits through Hel. I thought about how it could kill a being that was an eon older than it, but couldn’t come up with anything viable. Time was running out as the imp Bonitte spotted Aeshma coming to the same gate that he always did. Every demon knew of him and kept away from him out of fear. He used the same pit to transfer up top every time, so it wasn’t a real brainer for Bonitte to find him. The pit was designed to send demons at any point in history for a multitude of realms. Their job was many and Bonitte didn’t know what exactly they do but they had to come through her to get to the other realms.

Aeshma was currently getting ready to teleport and Bonitte thought fast, jamming his body into the inner working of the pit, breaking gears and stopping them from moving. Then all at once they moved, killing him in an instance