I had hastily constructed the shelf upon which I stowed the key facets of my being. It was at a slight angle, and I was perhaps lucky that most of the blocks of my existence had enough friction to stay put. The trouble came when I started to have a ball, or leaned upon the necessary parts too heavily. It had been this way for too long, and I had been content to just make do rather than tear everything down to start anew.

“Don’t worry,” I sighed at the wailing Blank. “It’s not a normal person.”

If anything, that seemed to irk the young man even more. “You’re saying this because he is a demon or something, right?” Rodney had continued to stand in the doorway rather than enter and become an accomplice.

“No, worse. He’s from the Church.”

Again, not something that seemed to make the situation any more acceptable in his eyes. Tough crowd today.

[They wish for Eric to sacrifice himself in some manner to bring the divines back.]

Wight had been trying to draw something that used a lot of intersecting green lines. Perhaps vomit, and I hated myself for putting that out into the world. Throwing up wasn’t a lot of fun.

“Like sacrifice sacrifice, or just like a little hardship?”

I tutted. “You make it sound like I’m opposed to hard work and suffering. It was clearly the first option.”

[Clearly.]

Still not quite convinced, it was time for me to draw my trump card.

“Plus, a letter from Pearl told me to do it.” Actually, saying that out loud made it seem like less of a genuinely good idea. My demon lover currently in super max jail, sent a secret snail mail encouraging murder, and the man had delivered it himself.

“I wish I could just teleport home.” Rodney rubbed at his face.

“How did it go at the Org?” I put my cutlery down. It was too cold to properly enjoy it now. Thanks, Isaac.

“Could we have this conversation after we have removed the corpse from the dining room? I can’t believe you’re being so casual about this.”

True. The large man was half-slumped over the table, his vitals having taken a nosedive after losing a lot of blood and oxygen. Had the Hells ruined my sense of… I didn’t know what. Rodney was perhaps right, though. We should get rid of the body.

“Know any ways of corpse disposal, Wight?” I gestured to the dead body, unnecessarily.

[I could eat him, although that would take a while and make more of a mess.]

“Maybe.” I tapped my fingers on the table. “Maybe there will be a second letter from Pearl with keys to a new place, and we can just burn this one down and leave?”

Rodney leaned on the doorframe. “And leave the portal tech downstairs? There’s no easy option for this, Eric.”

I knew what the easy option was - it would be to dump the body into a portal. Have the Hells scour the corpse down to dust. Shame the Lowers couldn’t clean the carpet as well. Plus, there was the point of getting his body down the stairs.

“I really should have thought this through, huh?” I rubbed my chin in thought. Between the three of us, we should be able to shift him, although convincing the Blank was unlikely. “How about you warm up the portal? We’ll throw him at the Nightclub ruins?”

Rodney rolled his eyes and threw up his arms, but relented to doing as I asked. I turned to my patron and gave him a wide grin.

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“How strong are those arms, huh?”

[This will end poorly, but let us get it over with.]

I tried to loop my arms underneath Isaac’s, tilting the chair backwards as I lifted his shoulder end. Wight grabbed his feet, and tendrils of dark mist pooled around the man’s legs. As we moved him from the chair, I almost buckled from the weight.

“Dead people sure are heavy.”

[It is the weight of taking a life.]

If that were true, then I should be one dense motherfu- oh, perhaps I-

My thoughts stopped as I teetered at the edge of the basement stairs. Taking a step downwards would mean putting a lot of trust in one or both of my legs, along with my back. Then again, letting him just drop down the stairs would be a lot quicker.

“I can hear your thoughts from down here,” Rodney complained. “Do not drop that corpse down the stairs.”

Ah, he only said for us to not to drop this corpse down the stairs. The next one we could - not that I should be anticipating a next one. Although, these things tended to be inevitable-

Wight pushed forward when I wasn’t ready and I stumbled down two of the stairs, my demonic energy flaring through my muscles to stop me from folding in two beneath the weight. With a lot of internal screaming and far too much sweat, we gradually got him down the stairs and across the room.

“I wonder if this is how Pearl deals with the trash?” I looked at the swirling portal, ready to consume our offering.

“You don’t take the trash out?”

I eyed the Blank over. Too tired and too few pancakes to really argue my case at this juncture. “Ready when you are, Wight.”

[Let us complete the task.]

With momentum, we lifted Isaac once more and slung him through the portal, the wobble of the swirling energy the only outcome to let us know it was successful. Rodney kneeled down and switched the portal off.

“Alright, now tell us about your day.” I beamed at him as his eyes looked from me to Wight, and then upstairs.

I turned to follow what he was looking at. Oh, apparently we had left a little trail of blood in our wake. That’d probably take some cleaning… and as much as I would like to live in the decay of our terrible actions - it probably wasn’t a good mental health sign that I was okay with doing so.

“I have a patron now,” Rodney grimaced and turned to the side. A dark blue earring, marked with a white rune, sat in his ear.

“Very fashionable.” I nodded. More visible than my one, but certainly less intrusive. I shuddered, remembering when they implanted the pact vessel into my arm. “Did it hurt?”

“No. Not really any more than a normal piercing would. My patron is called Passage, and he is like a voice sitting on my shoulder - when I’m using the tech.”

[So we will not get to meet or hear the Passage?]

Rodney shook his head.

I was still unsure on how I really felt about this. It was putting more eggs in the Org basket, but having a strong Rodney that could keep up with our antics was also important. If it wasn’t putting him in any danger, then it was at least acceptable. I made the note to at least keep a closer eye on him, just in case.

“Eager to give it a spin, Rodney?” I grinned. I was. I could spin the fuck out of some demons right now. Just spin them and spin.

“Not right this minute. You have that look in your eyes that says you need a bath and a day off.” He wrinkled up his face. “You didn’t tell me about your day yet… if I dare ask?”

I rubbed the back of my neck. He was right - I hadn’t had a good wash-down in a while. It had been a bad couple of days. “Let me hop in the tub. You and Wight can sit in the bedroom and we’ll tell you all about it.”

He seemed hesitant to agree, but before I knew it I was neck deep in warm bubbles, and we had got Rodney up to date with all the important facts of the day - excluding the number of times I had shot Claude.

“Wow, I hadn’t known that Hunters could be so… extra,” he called from the bedroom.

It had certainly come as a surprise to me, too. Most of the day had been a bit of a learning experience. Somehow, despite the occasional bad experience in the bathroom, the warmth of a soak did my mind some good and whatever remaining corruption slid off my damp skull.

“There’s another Hunter we can go after, but does the Org have any Quests for me?”

A brief silence followed where he was murmuring to my patron, before he responded. “Yeah, they have us on something easy to calibrate my patron.”

Something easy. I could barely believe that. Everything had to be some test, and instead of becoming a sharper blade, I just felt dull to it. I would perhaps reserve judgement until I heard what it was and what they wanted to us first, although I had become quick to pass out my judgement as of late.

“I’m going to go make some lunch for us, and see if we have anything to clean bloodstains.”

“Thanks, Rodney,” I called back. We had dragged him through some rough times, but he was getting the hang of it. Had a cleaner conscience than I, and a better heart. Almost made me wish there was a way out of the Org. Well, a way out that didn’t involve destroying it from within.

Wight pushed the door open and came in, sitting himself on the closed toilet and cupping his beak in thought.

“Doing alright there, partner?”

He turned his crimson eyes to me.

[Something very bad is coming soon.]