But are you really THAT different? || Helluva Boss

CHAPTER 1

Rain.
Darkness.
Silence filled the empty alley.
Rain.
Darkness.
He could almost smell it.
Rain.
Darkness.
The desire arose in his chest.
Rain.
Footsteps.
This is when he knew to pay a little more attention than he already did.
Rain.
Footsteps.
You just need to wait for the perfect moment.
Rain.
Gunshot.
The body fell onto the floor, damaging the previously shot head a little more. People screamed hysterically. Panic arose around the alley. But what could they do, call the cops? That's an interesting move when you're in hell. He smiled devilishly, exposing his golden tooth which stood out from the rest of his other razor-sharp teeth.
And just like that, he disappeared the way he came.
Rain.
Darkness.
Seemingly innocent he jumped down the roof onto the parallel one which was a little shorter and loosened a laundry line which he used to climb down the wall of the building. Then he let go, about 5 feet above the floor and landed on his feet, his horse already waiting for him. He untied the rope which bound the horse onto a building pipe in another alley.
"Come on boy", he said as he got on its back. And so he rode off. It was a good kill.

After a long ride he reached the sweet home in the canyons of hell. As if his cowboy look wasn't enough, he took it all the way. His home resembled something a little too close to a western-themed mancave. He got of his horse and made his way into his bedroom, which was a just building in the huge cave with a neon sign which said "Saloon", but above the sign "Strikers" has been spray painted. So what really stood there was "Strikers Saloon". Beside that, the huge glass statue of himself with an enormous errection really showed what he thought of himself. On his way to "Strikers Saloon" he took off some of his clothes, leaving him in only the last layer of clothing he was wearing. He dialed a number.
"I got the motherfucker."
"HAHAHA! Great, finally.", the supposed client cheered.
"So, how're we gonna settle the payment?"
"Well, it would be too obvious if I transfer it, so the only way is you coming over."
He sighed.
"I just got back from the mission, I'll come later."
"Nuh-uh. That would be too suspicious, besides, I'm gone for the week. Roalty has it's cons. Not like a lower class imp like you would understand that. Today or never. Your choice."
And with those lines the call was ended. "Fucking royal bitch.", he cussed. Nothing pissed him off more than the royalties of hell. He put back on the clothing he was previously wearing and made his way to the clients home. Another two hours of riding he arrived, got the money and a discriminating look from the royalty.
Being an imp in hell, not an easy life. Imps were seen as the lowest lifeform you can be born in hell and they were also treated as such. You couldn't do much with your life, most imps were some kind of servant. Not him however. He was a strong and independent one who always fought for what he wanted.

On his way back he spotted a nightclub. The day has been pretty tough, so he allowed himself a short stay. He entered the club and was instantly met with the thick, drug filled air, from which he got a trip due to inhaling it. Nonetheless he made his way to the bar and ordered a few tequila shots. He was already pretty drunk and about to leave, but the bartender rolled another drink to him.
"From the slutty succubus across the counter.", was all the bartender said. Confused he looked around. The nightclub was full of slutty succubi, not like they behaved any different than slutty. He quickly gave up on searching and gulped down the shot. He then got up and prepared himself for another long ride home. But someone stopped him. He looked over his shoulder to get a glance at the mysterious demon. Very clearly a succubus, but pretty short for one. Almost the same hight as him. Despite that he couldn't make out much of the appearance.
"Howdy sexy cowboy, I'm the slutty succubus who bought you the drink. How about you show me how much of a cowboy you really are?", the succubus played with the cowboy hat he was wearing.
He was drunk.
And tired.
And horny.
Why not.
For a reason he can't remember they decided to go to his place, which was for sure further away than the one of the succubus. Once they arrived they made their way to the bedroom.
"Strikers Saloon? Baby, you're such a fucking loser. What is Striker?"
"Well howdy, I'm Striker.", he was piss drunk and horny. He said that while bowing to the succubus and lifting his hat. Eventually one thing lead to another and there Striker stood, getting head from the short succubus. Tho, he couldn't remember much more from the night as he blacked out completely. He woke up in the morning, his room smelling like sex and the succubus nowhere to be found. Hungover, Striker slowly got up to get dressed. It didn't take too long for him to figure out that the money he earned the day before was missing. Not being able to remember anything from the night before, he was clueless to where the money might have gone. The only thing he remembered was the nightclub.
Great.
Luckily for Striker, it was already pretty late as he woke up, so calculating the time it would take to get to the nightclub it would be fullhouse again. He got dressed and was on the road again. On the way, foggy memories from the previous night came to him, but he just couldn't remember the face of the sexual partner. He arrived at the club. His goal was not to drink, but only to find the one who robbed him. He searched around the whole building, but he just couldn't recognize any of the faces. "That was so much fucking money.", he thought angrily. Smashing down the drink of the person next to him in aggression.
"What the hell??? You fucking imp-shit!! You wanna start somethin'!?", a buff demon yelled. They argued, pulled all the attention from the stippers and were about to fight. But then from the corner of his eye Striker noticed another short demon. He turned his head around and the memories struck him.
"YOU MOTHERFUCKING BASTARD!!", he ran towards the succubus, who just ran outside the club. He ran, and ran, and ran and just as he thought Striker had lost him something hit his head. He fell. Strong hands made their way onto his neck.
"You little succubitch. Thinking you could just steal my hard earned cash? How about I steal something from you?", the grip of his hands tightened.
The succubus was gasping for air. Then he tried to speak.
"Okay, okay! (Cough) I'll tell you!", the grip loosened, but he didn't let go.
"It's in my back pocket."
Without hesitation Striker rolled the other over and put his hand in each back pocket. He found the money.
"You know, I could just kill you now. You don't know who you're dealing with."
"Oh fuck me, I'm dealing with a cowboy wannabee loser who lives in a fucking mancave in the middle of nowhere.", the succubus didn't at all seem frightened.
"Fuck you, isn't that what was done yesterday?"
The succubus turned around as far as he could, looking over his shoulder as Striker sat on his back.
"Hell nah. I gave you head. I don't want that cactus-dick near my anus. Who knows what kinda dessert disease you got."
"You can get STDs from head too, you uneducated shit."
"Yeah just get the fuck off of me."
He gave in, too hungover and tired from the last night. As he stood up, Striker got a closer - and sober - look at the succubus. Okay, he was shorter than the usual of his kind. Overall he looked a bit odd for a succubus. He had a pointy nose, succubi actually don't have any noses at all.
Whatever.
He stepped away from the succubus, attempting to make his way back to his horse.
"Fucking succubitch? Is that really all you could come up with, Striker-daddy?"
The fact that his name was known to that demon made him facepalm. He turned around.
"Don't get your hopes up just cause you know my name, darling."
"Uh-huh. Bet you don't even remember mine."
"To be fair, I don't even remember anything from last night.", his anger turned to flirting. Striker was known for his rapid mood changes.
"Too bad.", the succubus teased him.
"You know mine. It'd just be fair if I'd get to know yours."
"What for? Gonna search me up on Onlyfans?", now that the succubus stood up Striker could study him even better. Punk or emo type of appearance, black eyeballs and Red skin, about 5 inches taller than Striker himself.
"I might."
"Hah, I'll be waiting for your subscription. Looks like I'll get the money another way then.", they gave eachother a lustfull look. "It's Valentine. Valentine.666/69 on OnlyFans. Don't be surprised about the price, I know my worth."
"If you'd know your worth would you be making OnlyFans?"
"We're in hell, I don't think I care much.", he sure had charme.
Then he walked away.
Striker checked him out a bit, and sort of wished he had been more aware of the situation from the night before.