Adam's revenge // swap

Part 6.

Adam's pov: *Just arrived in Hell*

Molten heat blasted Adam's face as he stumbled through the shimmering portal. The stench of brimstone and singed feathers clogged his throat. Gone was the sterile white of Heaven, replaced by a twisted cityscape bathed in an infernal glow. This was Hell, a place ripped straight from nightmares, and Adam was no wide-eyed tourist.

He ripped the silver pistol from its holster, the metal cold against his palm. This wasn't a weapon of righteous smiting; it was a tool of vengeance, a promise whispered on the wind for his fallen comrade, Lute. Her golden blood still stained his memory, a constant reminder of the cherub-faced demon who had dared take a shot at him, a shot that Lute had intercepted with her own body.

Lute. His second-in-command, yes. But more importantly, the woman whose fiery spirit and sharp wit had ignited a spark in his stoic heart – a spark he hadn't even recognised until it was extinguished. Now, all that remained was a cold, hard ember of rage.

He adjusted the silver breastplate, the intricate engravings a stark contrast to the graffiti-covered walls that seemed to leer at him. He didn't need a map; he knew exactly where to find his target. Hazbin Hotel. A twisted monument to the ludicrous notion of demonic redemption, and the breeding ground for the demon who had stolen Lute from him.

Nifty. The name itself sparked a fresh wave of fury. A cherubic face hiding a sadistic soul. Nifty might have regretted her actions later, fueled by some fleeting pang of guilt or fear, but it didn't matter.

Adam stalked through the desolate streets, ignoring the grotesque creatures that scurried out of his way. Every flicker of demonic fire, every tortured scream, was a symphony of hate fueling his resolve. Finally, he reached a towering structure of mismatched bricks and neon signs. A garish neon red sign proclaiming 'Hazbin Hotel' mocked him from above.

This was it. This was where he would find Nifty. This was where he would etch his revenge on the very walls of this infernal institution. He gripped the pistol tighter, his knuckles white. No theatrics, no pronouncements of righteousness. Just a single, cold-blooded bullet for every memory of Lute that was stolen from him.

As he pushed open the creaking doors of the hotel, a distorted, upbeat melody filled the air. It was laughter, tinged with cruelty, and it sent a shiver down his spine. Today, that laughter would be silenced. Today, he would make Hell tremble with his righteous fury.

The cacophony that greeted him wasn't the demonic inferno Adam expected. Upbeat, distorted music spilled from a cracked record player in the corner, battling with the boisterous laughter of a slumped figure sprawled on the tattered sofa. 

Squinting through the dim, smoke-filled haze, Adam identified the figure as Angel Dust, the flamboyant spider demon. He slumped there, a half-eaten bag of chips dangling from a limp hand, snoring softly.

Behind the bar, propped against a bottle of something suspiciously green, Husk, the gruff feline demon, nursed a drink. His eyes, perpetually narrowed, were fixed on Angel Dust with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. 

 A welcome sight, Adam thought grimly. Husk and Angel were obstacles, albeit oblivious ones. He realized he could just fly over them. He needed to find Nifty, and fast.

As he crept towards the chipped wooden staircase leading to the upper floors, a blurry pink form rolled off the sofa with a groan. Angel Dust. Adam froze, his heart hammering. This wasn't part of the plan.

"Alright, fuzzy oaf," Angel Dust mumbled, blinking rheumy eyes at Husk. "You gonna share that or what?" He batted his eyelashes, a seductive pout forming on his lips. "Come on, berbagi share with your best bug-loving buddy~"

Husk swatted the hand away with a lazy snarl. "Get your own, angel. You wouldn't know good booze from a puddle of slime."

Angel Dust pouted further, his voice dripping with mock disappointment. "Fine, fine," Angel purred, batting his eyelashes again. "Just a little harmless fun between... well, whatever we are."

Husk snorted, a cynical puff of air escaping his nostrils. "Harmless fun? More like a drunken nuisance.", but stopped mid-stride. His gaze, momentarily flickered in Adam's direction, a flicker of curiosity in his narrowed eyes.

Adam's breath hitched. Had Husk seen him? Panic clawed at his throat , the cold dread of being spotted settling in his gut. Just as he was about to break into a desperate run, Husk sighed dramatically.

"Must've been another one of those imp gremlins," he grumbled, scratching his ear with a long claw. "Always messing around, leaving furniture out of place.

 I'll have to get Nifty to get rid of them in the morning." He shuffled back to his stool, refilling his glass with the green liquid and resuming his vigil over the sleeping Angel Dust.

Relief washed over Adam, so intense it almost made him stumble. It was a close call. He wasted no time, his steps silent as he ascended the creaking stairs, the hunt for Nifty continuing. Every creak of the floorboard hammered against his skull, a drumbeat of anticipation for the moment he would find his target.

 He had a demon to kill, and every second wasted was an insult to Lute's memory.

{{Hey Lovelies!! What do ya'll think?? I've decided to go from Heaven to Hell in this story, alternating between Adam's pov in Hell and Sera/Emily/Other Angels pov in Heaven.                                       Kisses!!! 💋💋🥰}}

Word Count: 904