Hazbin and Helluva Shorts III

Bullets to Spare

Today wasn't going well. Moxxie stagged home and collapsed. He nearly passed out. But he couldn't let Millie see him like this. With what strength he had left, he dragged himself upstairs. Moxxie threw his torn and bloody clothes into the trash. No amount of sewing and laundry could save them. He looked at his injuries. There were seven bullet holes in his back and a large gash on the side of his left leg. It sucked. With a deep breath, Moxxie dug the bullets out and winced in pain. But it had to be done. It was a good half hour before he could bandage himself up. This was more than enough for one day. He made a mental note to call in for a day or two off. After some rest, Moxxie ate to regain strength and quickly emptied the trash. Not that it mattered. Millie would see him all wrapped up in gauze and immediately ask what the Hell happened. She was not going to be happy with him getting hurt.

Moxxie sighed heavily as he lay on the sofa. It still hurt. But at least the pain was more tolerable now. He turned the tv on to distract himself while resting. It wasn't long before Millie came home. And, as expected, she was pissed. Nobody shot up her husband and got away with it. Not on her watch. After a brief interrogation, she stormed out the door. Moxxie didn't bother asking where she was going. One does not simply get in the way of a huntress on the prowl. But that was what Moxxie loved about her. Millie was sweet, passionate, and kind. But she would not hesitate to slaughter anyone who stepped to her friends and family. As Moxxie awaited her return, he thought about what had gone wrong. Maybe he could've handled the situation better. Perhaps there had been a way to de-escalate it. But who knew? Demons were unpredictable.

Millie came back an hour later. The bloodstains blended with her red skin and soaked into her black clothes. After a quick change, she took care of her beloved husband. Moxxie was a lucky man.