Achieving Heaven Through Hell Part 3: Only the Results

Chapter 8: Anima

Chapter 8: Anima

Moonchild's eyes fluttered open, he was in his bed, swaddled in the luxuriously soft linens the hotel had provided. He groaned as he moved to sit up, his whole body hurt, like he'd well and truly overdone it at the gym. Still, some part of him felt... good? It was a good kind of hurt, the kind that promised growth.

"Hey twink!" Angel said, popping into view. "You're up!"

"I am. And you're..." Moonchild said, looking around. "In my room?"

"That's right!" Angel said, booping him on the low, rounded, slitted nub that served as his nose. "We patients gotta stick togedda, yeah? How're ya feelin'? Need anythin'?"

Moonchild was exhausted, sore, and more than a little confused, but even he chafed under this obvious sychophancy. "What do you want, Angel?"

Angel's smile only widened at his tone. "A little tender, are we? I like this side'a ya, Flounder! Right, okay! So, Husk, see, he got this look in his eye, right?"

"If you say so."

"I watch 'im a lot," Angel chuckled. "Mostly when he thinks no-one's lookin', so I knows when he's gots an idea. And I gots an idea too, see?"

Moonchild shook his head. "No, I don't?"

Angel sighed and snapped his fingers. "Kid! Yer powers! If a cardshark like Husk walks into a casino witcha at his side, the two a yous could clean a bitch out! Like ya said, ya know who's gonna fold, who's gonna call, what they're holdin'! Y'know how the dice'll fall or where the ball drops! Kid, yer a goddamned goldmine! Ya tellin' me y'never even thought about usin' yer powers for money?"

Moonchild blinked, a crease of consternation forming in his brow. "But... that's cheating."

Angel wasn't sure if he wanted to slug the kid or slip into that bed and steal some of that innocence for himself. He took a third option and squeezed his cheek. "Fuck me, yer adorable. Yeah, kid, it's cheatin', but those casinos is rotten anyhow, so I don't think it counts as a sin. Point is, I'm gonna pop th'question to Huskie-Wuskie and I need ya on board. The three of us, workin' together, we could pull down some fat stacks, yeah? Waddaya say?"

"I don't know..." Moonchild said, rubbing his neck. "Will it... make Mr. Husk happy?"

Angel smiled broadly, winking. "Nothin' and I mean nothin' makes 'Mr. Husk' happier'n knockin' those fatcats down a peg. Ya might even see 'im smile."

Moonchild weighed his options; stay in like he'd always done and, what, take up pottery? Or would he go out with some friends(?) and have fun?

Welp.

"I'm in."

"Great!" Angel cheered, leaning down and kissing him on the cheek. "Now, I'm just gonna need ya to ask yer boss for a day or two off, yeah?"

"...Oh."

Husk sipped his coffee and read the newspaper. It was the usual tripe, useless stocks, gang murders, a new cannibal joint opening up the street; stuff he couldn't give a shit about. In fact, there wasn't much that could distract him from the fact that, once again, some nonsense was threatening to bring the whole hotel crashing down around their ears. And if they were lucky, it would only be the hotel. And, once a-fucking-gain, Charlie laid out the red carpet for the likely agent of their doom, and was planning some cockamamie scheme to redeem the little hellion come hell or high-water.