Over time, I had become used to how demons saw me. A threat. Food. Something to toy with. It would have jaded me were it not for the two demons that were closest to me. The result meant that all the base Lowers just seemed juvenile in comparison. Unable to see past their own noses in search of the one thing driving them. I could almost pity them if I didn’t want to erase them all from existence.

“Nope, not food.” I shook my head at the demons as Wight filtered into Hell beside me.

“A side dish too!” A second croc-demon licked his lips. They were each a good six or seven feet tall, wide, and muscular.

[Who are these demons, Eric?]

“I just got here; I know as much as you.” My eyes narrowed as my hand slowly moved to my hip.

//Visual and Audio fine. Great to see you have five hostiles already. Pearl is going to-

“Uh, Wight?” I pursed my lips as the demons began to limber up and gather to come meet us.

[Eric? Oh. Oh, Eric.]

Winning the award for the worst Hunter this side of the mortal plane - Eric Redd, who had forgotten his pact weapon at home.

“I’m going to rip you in-“ one of the demons started, before I vanished.

Brief transfer, and then I was back in the basement. Rodney gave me a confused frown.

“What? Like I’m going to stand around and fist-fight a group of crocodiles to get into the nightclub called…” I paused as I flexed my empty holster at him.

[Goblin Village.]

“Quaint,” I rolled my eyes as I ran upstairs.

“How did you-“ Rodney yelled up after me before realizing he might disturb Pearl.

It was an easy thing to forget, in that I had been ignoring it on purpose after I had tried to use it to end her life. Right where I left it, I leaned to scoop it up. “Sorry,” I whispered to the gun, as I turned back to return to the open portal.

“Seriously, Eric?” The Blank was rubbing at his temples already - and I hadn’t even been damaged yet.

“Whaat? Happens to everyone, right?” I turned to my patron, who was standing with arms crossed. If it didn’t look so amusing, I would have felt terrible.

[One of my previous Hunters died that way.]

My right eye twitched as I felt I had nothing nice to say to that. Good? Not that I was wishing ill on anyone, but Wight was mine now. My friend - I added hastily, allowing him to spin the revolver as I stuck it smoothly into the holster.

Actually, since the croc-demons were aggressive… “I think, actually, we’ll have to go in guns blazing?”

[They did seem friendly, in a way detrimental to your well-being, Eric.]

“Yes.” I withdrew the revolver again with a flourish. Deep breath. I felt like I was acting recklessly. Hyper or overexcited. Perhaps it was just from having a clear mind for a change.

Once more, I stepped into the portal, appearing after a brief second of discomfort back to the same position in Hell.

The crocs turned to face me again, having started to wander back to the front of the club.

“Oh, magic meat is back.”

“That’s… not the worst thing I’ve been called. Do we really have to resort to violence?” I lowered the gun as Wight returned to my side.

“You look like food,” the larger of the group shrugged, “what do you suggest?”

[Now what are you doing with these gentlemen?]

I shot my patron a glare before returning with a smile to the gathered group. “Well, I’m pretty powerful - if you join up with me, we can probably take over the club, and you can… eat everyone, I guess? Hostile business takeover? I don’t really know what you want.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The croc-demons looked at each other with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. Despite their large and long maws, they managed to whisper amongst themselves.

[Are you going to shoot them yet?]

'Undecided.'

Eventually, after some heated grumbling, the group left their huddle and the larger one addressed me. “Human, we are willing to follow you - on one condition.”

My tongue rolled around the inside of my teeth. “Which is?”

“In our group, Everlasting Hunger, might is the most important thing. You will duel one of us to the death to gain our trust.”

I shrugged. “Okay.”

“I will gett'im boss.” One of the crocs with more of a blue sheen to his scales stepped forth and withdrew a jagged sword from his side.

“Human, you will face Kr’aakk’I in a mortal duel. Accept or become our next meal.”

“Any rules? My name is Eric Redd, by the way.” I caught the impassive stare of Wight and gave him a loose shrug. Sometimes the right answer wasn’t always putting a bullet through everything.

“No rules. Start when you are ready-“

A blazing crimson trail hung in the air as the demonic shot blew the brains of my opponent out the back of his skull. He took a single step, smoke wafting from the inch-wide hole in his forehead, and then dropped to the ground, dead.

“Alright, new rules,” I spoke louder, clearer. “I’m the new boss, and the gang is called Redd Death. Anyone has a problem with that; you can ask Krak-, whatever his dumb-shit name was, how I feel about obstinance. That means being a dumb-shit. Understand?”

Their respective maws opened and closed in surprise. Eventually, the largest one was jostled enough to provide a statement for the group as a whole. “Yes, yes, Redd. We will put the message out to the rest. We act on your command.” At the prompt of the larger one, the group kneeled down and bowed their heads towards me.

//The fuck… I mean, hostiles neutralized? I think?

[I am not sure whether to be impressed or…]

Wight looked between me and the demons, who were now prostrated in servitude to me. Sometimes you have to think outside the box. It was a wonder what a clear mind could do. As well as a clear everything else that was able to be emptied. And a bullet.

“Just wait for it to go wrong,. I nodded to my patron. They were demons, after all. It was unlikely they’d be loyal forever. With a sigh, I turned back to them.

“You may rise. Big guy, what’s your name?”

“My name is Korc, Redd. And I am female.” The group rose to their feet.

“I apologize.” Korc was close enough to croc that I felt the Hells were setting me up for something. “What can you tell me about the club, Korc?”

She rubbed her scaled chin. “It’s owned by some Mids asshole, pretty standard booze and heavy music affair.”

I looked at the building. There was no pulsing base coming through the brickwork - or even windows to see anything lurking within. “You think I could get in the front without causing a scene? I am looking for someone.”

“They don’t allow humans in.” A stout croc offered with a shrug. Whatever the difference in sexes was for the beasts, it was too subtle to notice with my untrained eye, and it felt bad to assume they were all male by default. Some of the demonic species, like pigmen, were often monogendered, so it had become habit.

[That means trouble for our adventure, Eric.]

“Maybe. Can I not go in that back entrance, though?” I leveled my revolver toward the plain red door, in lieu of pointing my free hand.

“It’s an exit only,” Korc explained, her tongue lolling from her mouth to lick at her fangs.

“Is that... enforced?” I was slowly becoming tired of this self-imposed Quest. Thoughts of fighting across a dancefloor and getting beaten and bloodied while flashing lights and pounding music drilled into my ears sounded… like something Pearl would not approve of.

“Sorta?” The leader of my gang looked up into the sky as if in thought before glaring at the door. “If you try to go in that way, there’s some angry fuck that rips your head off.”

“Happened to Va’kkwa before you showed up.” The slimmer croc nodded.

[I know what you are thinking, Eric.]

It was hardly a well-kept secret. Putting a bullet through things had become my problem solver for a while now. How bad could a demon trying to rip my head off go? Well, aside from the obvious, perhaps. Pearl would be livid.

“The alternative,” I turned to the bird-demon, “would be walking all the way to the front door and trying to get in that way when we know they don’t want me there.”

[I see your point.]

It was… frustrating. If I could just walk in there and play it cool, only start shooting once Seth’a tried to run or if someone tried to cause trouble. Having to shoot through the whole building just seemed reductive. We weren’t in those Mantid Hive days anymore.

I walked closer, anger bubbling away in me as my patron and the gang watched me. This place was a blight, full of bad demons and probably terrible music. I hated it - perhaps too strong an emotion. Wight didn't seem too eager to help, and his gaze weighed down on me. It was annoying. I should be better. More.

But from within this growing disdain, I felt a spike of ice radiate from my core. Twisted like a slick ice cube slowly melting within me. I blinked as the amber tones of Hell seemed to dim slightly. The ice ran from my chest and into my left arm, slowly seeping towards my hand.

[I am detecting something odd, Eric.]

//Wa- …-signal… off- …Eric?

I held my hand in the air, palm facing the offending structure, as the chilled spike snaking its way through my bones reached my hand.

With a rush of cold air, the outer stonework of the building instantly turned into ashen dust. The internal floors collapsed without the structure to hold them up. Flashes of lights, screams of surprise, and the darkened forms of score upon score of demons clattered down into a huge pile of furniture, musical equipment, and hundreds of bottles. As they slammed into the dirt, the heavy roof landed atop them, crushing everything into broken shards and bloodied paste.

As the dust wave of the ruined club billowed past us, my mouth hung open - right before my left hand exploded. The shock of the pain numbed the realization of the fact, as drops of my blood ran down my glasses.

Wight ran up to me, sliding to a stop in the dirt to observe my stump.

[Shit!]

He looked up at me with wide crimson eyes, beak hung open in panic.

[Pearl is going to kill me.]