it's the end of days ; Murdoc x Reader

part one

You tapped your heel on the dirty tile, grime sweeped up to the side of the bar and against the walls, showing just how lazy the bartender had gotten. Not to mention the lack of clean water. So mopping wasn't an option at this point. Your shot glass sat full to the brim next to your left palm. That hand was too shaky to use alone, though. Wrapped up, dirty bandages covered in blood and the earth, your knuckles busted and bruised. Your right hand wasn't nearly as bad. Todd, the man behind the counter, knew this. He just always set your drinks down to the left of you to piss you off. You exhaled through your house and gently pulled the shot to your good side, your heel tapping speeding up in pace. A chill ran down your spine as the chime of the bell due to the bar door opening and softly closing rang through the crisp air. You knew who, or rather what, had just entered. Before, you would've been afraid. But now you were not. There was nothing more they could do to you. Your soul was gone, you little brother was gone. They knew that the worst they could do to you was keep you alive, especially since you weren't posing a threat to them.

And so that's what they did. They let you live. Along with many others who had lost their souls, and many others who simply deserved the torture and suffering because of their past actions. You know, what they did before the world turned to utter shit. You didn't exactly understand why simply stealing cars and drug use got you stuck on this miserable chuck of dirt, but you had grown accustomed to it. It had been what? Five, six years now? Well, it happened when you were around seventeen. Now you appeared to have the body of at least a 23 or 24 year old grown women. You didn't care about your age, though. As long as you could get a drink when you wanted to, you didn't care about anything. All you did anymore was sleep, eat, scavange, work out and drink. Rinse and repeat. You bathed when you could. Usually in a stream or lake after you collected as much water as you could. No running water in Hell. Scavenging helped, though. Even so many years in, people are still scared of going into the world and searching too much. Well, most people, at least. Bars were open, some factories were. And of course those factories produced things to kill humans. Toxic things. Cigs, alcohol, bullets. But never guns. Once you were out of guns, you were out of luck. No way to hunt unless you could craft a bow and arrow.

You took the shot and spun around the face the door. Some demons looked like humans, others looked like beasts created by Satan himself. Which, respectively, they all were anyways. These three on the other hand looked like men. Men with tusks, horns and large wings. They wore suits, they looked clean. What were they doing in a place like this? At least you could coexist with some races of demon. You switched your gaze from them to the dirty windows. Outside was a rather pretty world; despite the sky being a weird grey/red tone at all times, the sun always out and the clouds always ready to burst. The hills were green, a lot of roads were over grown. There were a lot of animals roaming the streets. It was a weird apocalypse, admittedly. Demons roaming, yet nature seemed to be at peace. Oh, how you were jealous of nature. You spun around and placed your glass back on the table. "Another one. Tequila." Your voice was raspy, you rarely ever spoke. Only when you were ordering drinks, that is. The best part about all of this was that everything was free. Even at the bars. You could drink as much as you wanted, because alcohol was always being produced.

You downed the new shot, the alcohol burning the back of your throat and splashing into your stomach. You scrunched your nose and cleared your throat. "Anoth-"

The sound of the door opening and slamming close cut you off, startling you to the point of almost falling off of your stool. You didn't dare turn around, and after the fire of a gun, you didn't dare move.