Starvation - Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss x Male!Reader

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[Warning! Explicit Scenery.]

Here I was, tattered and maimed. I never expected a fight like this. . .Not a war like this.
But it was calming to say the least. Sounds of Firearms always annoyed me ever since my father perished and flames piling up gave me euphoria like never before. Even when I was but a wee little boy, I loved lighting matchsticks on fire and watching the pyre sizzle at the material. It never changed. That's why through my extensive explosives specialization, I gained the position as a shock trooper, specifically, The Flamethrower Unit. Let's say I got a little bit. . . .excited when I first tested it out. And that was the last time I touched a Flamethrower. Why? Because I accidentally misfired. Gust of Scorch covered the area before me, engulfing my friends. Moment I saw the flames drown their screams I felt. . . .joy . . .So I 'misfired' more and more, never letting go. Is this what childhood happiness is when it's not awakened? I hope so, because I giggled like a toddler, escaping with the weapon somehow.
After a bit of hiding for what seems to have been 2 years in what appeared to me an abandoned house, it quickly turned into a panicked mania as I scorched the house down with me in some form of weird adoration of wanting the flames to make me suffer. I always loved pain for some reason. As I was swimming in childish melody of pyres rising high, I heard. . .screams of a small child, no bigger than an infant I assume. Ah. . .So this is just a house of poor people. How. . .distasteful. It appears fate called to me to eradicate the poverty with fire, because I ran outside cackling, before adding more fuel to the already burning jerrycan. I saw windows break, walls drown in fire, doors drop from the hinges. It was a delightful sight to say the least. Made better and bitter by screams of the family members inside. How dare they shout at my poor fire? It does no wrong to anybody, it just wants to warmly embrace you, while adding your carcass to the fuel. I saw a young woman fall out of the window and breaking her own neck. Talk about sticking the landing~ I snuck a glance at her, seeing her half-nude body swollen by lovely blisters and third degree burns. Perfection Incarnate. . .
After a while, screams died down. They finally stopped screaming at my lovely fire! They must've seen thebeauty through it's nonexistant eyes. Wonderful! How Wonderful! Such joy made me break into a lovely snicker and a dance. We all live and burn in this terribly beautiful House Fire! You scream, I scream and They Scream! Oh, the nonexistant humanity in my soulless body was brimming with cacaphony of childhood dreams come true. Until I suddenly blacked out for some reason. . .

'[Y/N] O. [L/N], vous êtes par la présente condamné à mort par peloton d'exécution pour avoir blessé 6 collègues officiers et tué une famille de 4 personnes. Vos lettres à votre femme [W/N] [L/N] et votre fils Vincent O. [L/N] a été envoyé. Puissiez-vous ne plus jamais avoir la paix.'

That's all I heard before 5 shots rang out, ending my life instantly. Ah, right. They finally caught me when they saw the fire in the distance. How did they manage to find it so fast? It can't have been a coincidence that there was a millitary patrol looking for a pyromaniac. Oh well, you live only once on this damned planet. All I regret was not raising my little boy to be a better me, but I'm sure he'll manage. Perhaps he'll graduate as electrician and become someone known for their technological advancements. Who knows? But I hope one thing is certain.

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That he does not associate himself with other pathetic people that  depend on swindling the masses for success. That's my final wish, as I slowly embrace my deathly end. Hell awaits me, and I'll make sure to never let it go without pure entertainment.

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[Hell]

I opened my eyes to ash and brimstone covering my face. I tried getting up, but my feet felt funny. I looked behind myself to see. . .hooves instead of feet. How peculiar. After some struggle, I stand up and look around. Before I do look around I feel some tingles on my head. I proceed to touch- Ram horns? Ram horns on my head? Hmmmm . . .It appears your looks change when you enter Hell depending on your fascinations, distastes and fears. I always loved mutton, my grandfather always cooked the best lamb, until he kicked the bucket. That old shrew is probably in Heaven. Good for him. This is Hell for certain, but I didn't expect actual industry and housing. Where is eternal damnation? Where is endless chaos? Where is endless insanity? So many questions, but so little time. Why? Because I feel hungry.

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...And if I go for too long without eating another of my kin, I tend to get fussy...

[A/N: Another insight on Y/N's Life. Forgive me for how short this one was. I'll make sure to repay what was lost by writing the first initial chapters after decision is finally made in previous chapter by you guys. Here's some lovely sounds of a burning fireplace! Word Count: 895]