the city is loud. always has been.

a man crushes a cigarette but under his polished work shoes, exhaling deeply before crossing a street. a crow caws for a few moments before being scared off a traffic light's pole by an oncoming truck, even if it won't get hit by it. someone spills coffee down their new suit and swears to no one in particular.

the sun that makes your skin shine slick with sweat that rolls uncomfortably into your eyes somehow is covered momentarily by a cluster of clouds across the painfully blue sky.

next to you, your partner only adds to the noise of the city, mumbling words you can't quite make out, his mouth muffled by the rooftop pavement. only part of his head sticks out, and, thanks to him, most of your patrols take place above ground, just in case an observant child or terrified mother points out the fin on beam's head swimming through the streets.

great. only a little closer to the sun, really. only a little more exposed to the summer's heat and humidity. really, it's not much. only a set or two more of clothes to wash at the end of the day. only a few more droplets of sweat that sting your eyes and taste like salt and filth on your lips.

really, it's not that bad.

the sun comes back, blaring over the entire city. you swear you can hear the groans of salarymen and cafe workers in the streets below harmonise with your own.

eventually, you stop walking, taking a break to wipe the beads of sweat forming at your forehead. man.. how long has it been? is the patrol finally done? it feels like it's been more than four hours, but the sun's still just as high in the sky as it was before you started.

in the distance, you spot a series of dark clouds that drifts slowly towards where the two of you are patrolling.

finally, you think.

you sit down on a nearby air conditioner vent that sticks out of the roof of the building you're on. there's no point in patrolling, and if it rains, maybe you'll get to leave a bit earlier.

when the clouds finally do come, they block out the sun almost entirely, which alone makes the afternoon a lot more bearable.

beam, who is still mumbling and is unaware that his words are almost completely incomprehensible through the concrete, notices that the sun is gone and finally sticks his entire head out of the roof.

"rain!! water!!"

he looks around as a few droplets start to leak out of the bluish grey clouds, people on the streets underneath starting to run for cover or reach for umbrellas as the clouds empty further, turning into a somewhat heavy drizzle.

you watch him out of the corner of your eye, having not moved from where you sat earlier as he swims around in the roof, delighted by the cool water. how naive. how happy. it seems simple to be a fiend.

your hair and uniform starts to get soggy, but it's arguably better than the sweat that they shone with earlier. it's cold, anyways. which is always better than the heat of the sun.

beam seems happier whenever there's water around. in the few months you've been his partner, you've noticed that whenever it rains or you two get assigned to a mission or patrol near a body of water, he becomes more excited and lively.

well, he is the shark fiend. makes sense that he likes water.

"look! puddles!! more water!" beam exclaims, diving up from the surface of the roof into the air, then back into a puddle, which splashes water on him and all around him.

at this point, neither of you want to continue or finish the patrol at all. i mean, it would be alright if you reported back and lied a little about the rest of the patrol. you only had to cover a few more streets anyways. and it wouldn't be a complete lie, after all, the two of you did patrol half the city earlier in the blazing heat.

this would be so easy,,,, especially being a powerful devil? taking on beam as a pet for you to laugh at and mess with because he's just so fucking funny?? and that's attractive. he's already so much of an animal!! slobbering, all over you in excitement... beam is so silly how could one not be obsessed with this freakish little shark thing...

from then on, forever! treating him like he's fucking stupid.,,,, playing hot and cold; loving the way he tilts his head and frowns so pitifully when you're mean to him. depraving him of his apparent favorite thing to do when he does something particularly unfavorable? beam... being a little freak, his favorite thing-! burying his face in your crotch and humping your leg...! but, whatever lord drowning wants... yes, yes, beams' sorry, he'll atone...,,,

beam... practically urinating from excitement, imaginary tail wagging when you originally met on earth... swooping in to take him under your wing and do whatever you please with...

now every chance he gets to be so close to you he's frothing at the mouth, never straying from your side !!! mumbling; "lord- l-lord drowning..." hugging your leg on his knees, rubbing his snout all over your thigh, breathless. like, wow... he really is funny... let's see what else he can do... chiding him to call you by your human name, not your true name. it sounds so much better when he calls you by your human name ...!

yes, yes shark devil - he is mine. no arguing, because there was no one to argue with. not even beam himself??? lord drowning, lord drowning...!!!

teasing his double cocks, milking him and treating him like the good boy he is,,, scratching his tummy when he's naked, baring himself on his back,,, cooing at him like he couldn't understand any other way...

anyone could figure the freak was starving for touch. enjoying anything you give him... masochistic shark hybrid, incredible!!

"who's a good boy? who's a good boy?" being a condescending prick, even if he doesn't really understand your tone ??! he's just so fucking excited to be near you, to be able to be touched by you and touch you, to serve you. anyone could see that if he were to stand from the floor, wall... bricked up like a total idiot loser.

getting a huge fucking tank for him. knowing he could just,,, sink into the ground and swim around to his hearts content... but isn't this so much better?you can see him so clearly, how he has so much fun swimming around, showing off for you...! the best, ,,, i cant believe he likes me so much ...,, i'm sso honored....

.,,, sticking dildos on the glass for the fun of it. just so he can play around when you're out,,,, having a strict rule for him to stay put for the time being. you're the only one who's demands and rules matter anyway... coming back and watching him play with himself.,.

wowww hes such a good listener, how long has he been going at it? considering how he's all trembling in the water and it has a weird film,,,, gross. you'll have to clean it later... and for now he can come out and bounce on something real no matter how overstimulated his poor lil body is,,,!!

which is something he's clearly honored, eager to do... he's whining, mewling your name, your status according to him... thick offwhite cum spewing from his double dicks, occasionally nothing at all... you're either nice enough to clean him up, cooing and making him feel better ,,, or making him sit in it like the dirty fuckin freak he is?? thoughts, thinking, thinking....

A few miles outside of civilization was a house. Not a small house, not one fitting for a new couple or one with white rooms built for modernity. No. It was an old house, ageless in its years, painted the color of moss, with the room for countless people, and a big yard to match. The giant family that had left the place vacant years ago spared no expense on the decor.

It became known as Hell’s House. Such an evil place was bound to have an evil name. According to Kishibe, the man who first showed you around, the Hunters had coined the term in the 70’s. The name simply stuck.

The danger of working in such a house wasn't because of the house itself. Instead, it came from the beings that freely roamed its halls.

Devils. Fiends. Whatever fresh horror the Devil Hunters picked up and dropped there for the staff to take care of.

And you had decided to join that staff. To become one of the few remaining Hell Maids that took care of and trained the creatures Hunters decided needed to learn obedience before working for the organization.

The title ‘maid’ was a little too mild to describe your job, but you didn't mind. The Devils could call you whatever they wanted if it meant you still got paid, and could keep your beautiful attic room that overlooked the garden.

The large, stained-glass window had its downsides, too. To be exact, the way the sun filtered through the purple panel and shined directly into your eyes at 6 in the morning. Oh well, at least it meant waking up early enough to have a cup of coffee in the morning and truly wake up.

Today was no different. You donned your uniform, zipping the black skirt that reached just beneath your knees and tying the matching white apron with a fluffy bow in the back. Bows were easily undone, which meant if the Nail Fiend was feeling violent again today and tried to grab the strings, you could easily slip away before they got the chance to hurt you. Practicality was a must in this place. The little scar above your eyebrow was proof of that lesson.

Finally, you slipped on your shoes and bounced down the stairs with a spring in your steps. Mornings were always miserable, but today, you felt a little lighter.

Nobody was awake yet, not the other Hell Maids nor the few Devils that resided in the halls. That meant you had the kitchen to yourself. You went straight to the coffee machine without a second thought. The rich scent of crushed coffee beans filled the air, filling the old room until you were practically salivating.

“Creamer, creamer,” you mumbled to yourself, searching through the fridge desperately until you found the familiar jug. You poured a generous amount of liquid into your cup until the familiar hue formed.

Then, you stuck two pieces of bread into the toaster, before coating them with butter. The Future Devil, a permanent resident of the Hell House as a retiree, must have taken the last of the strawberry jam. You cursed him under your breath. He could have at least warned you last time you went to the store that the supply would have been out by now. The damned prankster always liked to get on your nerves.

You tried not to let it bother you, even though you knew he already saw your irritation in his prediction. Instead, you shook your head and took a bite of toast before returning it to the plate.

The plate of toast and a warm mug of coffee occupied your hands, so you pushed the back door open with your hips. Dirt stuck to the soles of your shoes as you stepped off the stone path to sit on a bench beside the roses. Cold air quickly turned warm as you looked above the rim of your mug. The sunrise was beautiful, warming everything in its path and infecting it with its glow. Back in the city, you never would have gotten a view like this, nor had the energy to get up and watch it.

But this place, as evil as people claimed it was, had its charm.

You basked in the sun for a long while, closing your eyes and taking an occasional bite of your makeshift breakfast. You didn't want to spoil your breakfast too much, not when it was Lenore’s turn to cook. While Devil’s don’t eat in a human sense, even they piled their plates with her pancakes. Galgali, of course, just stared. His fascination with watching people eat was not subtle in the slightest

The only reason you eventually opened your eyes was when your silence was broken. There was a loud rumble coming from the road. You blinked a few times, leaning forward. The familiar, shiny metal was familiar. You didn't want it to be. The single car that belonged to Hell’s House was parked securely in the garage. It was necessary since being so far out from the city meant limited public transit. But this car headed down the only road that led to the cursed house, had to be driven by one type of person. A Hunter.

Having a Hunter driving out there only meant one of two things. Either someone was leaving, or someone was getting dropped off. You wouldn’t have been warned either way.

With a sigh, you got to your feet, dusting the bread crumbs off your skirt. If someone was coming, then it would be best if you were inside to prepare. And if someone was leaving, well, you didn't want to think about it. There were currently three ‘patients’ in the house you knew of. And both two rather… permanent.

The Future Devil had been in this house longer than most of the staff. He wasn't necessarily good, but he wasn't exactly evil. Chess matches with him were always fun, even if he had an unfair advantage. If you were being honest, you weren't playing for the game. Just for the drama he had to tell someone. He spoke of the world about the life beyond the walls, about people that neither of you knew. Without him, life in this place would be considerably more boring. Though, you doubted he'd be taken back to the underground prison with his ‘good behavior.’

Galgali was sent here for similar reasons. With his human memories resurfacing, he couldn't focus on work anymore. The Violence Devil needed a place to vacation that wasn't just another cage. His polite demeanor made his request possible, so he was sent here. You remembered when he arrived he had kissed your hand. A gentleman in every sense of the word.

And if Nail left- well, you'd be a little less sad, but sad nonetheless. Luckily, they weren't as violent as they once were. They were temperamental, yes, but they no longer took out that anger on you. At least, not as often as they once did. Sometimes they were sweet. They even offered you a hug when they found you crying about being homesick. Their pats on the head and their tutting when you did something right was becoming something you looked forward to. The only reason a fiend like them was allowed to take a break from the field was because they were becoming too violent with their coworkers, meaning once they reformed, they would go back to their job before. Still, Nail had a lot of work to do on that front.

You walked back to the kitchen and turned the faucet on.

The thought of a new person raced through your mind as you rinsed out your mug in the sink. You didn't want the dynamic around the house to change. Such a thing made you nervous, regardless of your job. What if the new resident was violent, like Nail? Or somehow worse? You were just a civilian, things could always go wrong. Your coworkers wouldn't always be there to save you. The thought made you shiver and you could have sworn the water coming from the faucet turned cold. You didn’t want to think about that. Everything was going to be alright. This was a job, they wouldn’t let you die.

The Future Devil slinking down the stairs was the only thing that dragged your attention from your mindless washing. “You’re worrying for nothing,” he chittered.

You dried off your dishes and pruned hands to turn to him. He had swapped his roots for legs, but still maintained his terrifying figure. It had been a struggle to get used to him when you first arrived. Now, you didn’t even bat an eye.

“Am I?” You said with a smile, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms. “Then you wouldn’t mind telling me who’s going to end up at our doorstep any second now?”

“Hmm,” he pretended to think, before shaking his head. “Nope. Not unless you want to make a contract, of course.”

You rolled your eyes. It was always a contract with these Devils. Though, you doubted you had anything he truly wanted. “Hmm,” you hummed, mocking the way he did. “Nope. I’d say I’m alright.”

The Devil giggled, in its macabre way. The sound lit up the house. In its wake, it caused a fiend, a Hell Maid, and a Hell Butler to stir awake. One by one, they trudged from their rooms.

“You’re practically an alarm clock at this point,” you teased Future.

He shrugged. “We can’t have anyone late for the arrival of our new friend, can we?”

Madoka was first down the stairs, adjusting his glasses with one hand and trying failing to finish buttoning his shirt with the other. Lenore followed him, tying her box-dyed blonde hair into a ponytail. Her roots were starting to come in, which meant sometime soon she would ask you to help her bleach them. The tie on her apron hung loose. She had woken up later than usual, especially when it was her turn to cook this morning.

“Good morning!” You said with a smug smile. For once, you were more awake than they were. They both returned your greeting with far less enthusiasm. Strange, because usually, at least one of them was in a good mood.

After Madoka found his place at the coffee machine and Lenore grabbed a tin of cinnamon rolls from the fridge, Galgali came down to join. As soon as he sensed food was about to be eaten, he would show up. You weren't entirely sure the Fiend slept.

“Good morning,” the Violence Fiend said, voice soft, his mask bobbing.

Like clockwork, the three of you responded.

It was the Future Devil who finally shifted the bland conversation, the eye in his chest blinking. “Hoo hoo! It seems Nail won't be awake in time for our new friend’s arrival!”

Lenore looked up from the blue package in her hands to the Future Devil. “The who?”

“Kishibe,” Madoka mumbled as he filled his coffee. “He would have told us if there would be a new resident”

“Would he really, though?” Future taunted.

Kishibe technically ran Hell’s House, but his visits were rare. The rumor was that he became manager for a time once he decided he was too old for fieldwork. He had gone back to being a Devil Hunter a few short months later. However, he didn't shut the place down. You had only met the man once, when he first showed you around the place. He didn't seem like the type to call in regularly.

You swallowed, before adding on, “I saw a car heading this way. So, either way, somebody is coming.”

The crew tensed, having the same reaction as you did earlier. However, the Future Devil was too busy giggling to himself and Galgali was staring at the cinnamon rolls Lenore was baking so intently anyone would have thought he hated them.

The Future Devil held up three fingers. “Three...”

Everyone’s gaze snapped to him, then the door. The Devil was playing tricks again.

“Two…”

Crap. You guess this is happening now. You said a quick prayer to nobody in particular, hoping that whatever deadly thing that stood on the other side of the door wasn't completely unhinged. You really wanted to survive this job, at least a little longer.”

“One.”

The oven chimed just as a knock on the door sounded. Galgali ran to save the cinnamon rolls while you, Lenore, and Madoka crowded the front door.

With a shaky hand, you twisted the door handle. Only to immediately be met with a strange assortment of people. An exhausted man with a pin-straight ponytail, a boy with blond hair who seemed like he'd rather be anywhere else, and a third man- no, a fiend, who looked too happy for his own good. The smile that revealed his too-sharp teeth from beneath his shark head had clearly been the thing that annoyed the Hunters during their drive up.

Madoka put a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back, before offering a bow. Both you and Lenore follow in tow, offering a small curtsy. It had been so long since the Hunters came that you forgot the proper greetings.

Luckily, Madoka did the talking. “Welcome, Hunters, to Hell’s House.”

The man with the dark hair nodded, the closest action to appreciation he could give. “Thanks for having us. We are here to drop off-”

“Woah, are those cinnamon rolls?” The blond man pushed past you, heading straight for the kitchen.

The shark-headed fiend looked desperate to follow, but the Hunter kept him in line. Quite frankly, the man looked like he was about to cry from frustration.

“I’m sorry about them,” he said. The line sounded rehearsed, spoken so many times his throat had gone sore. “Do you have some time to discuss Beam’s arrangements?”

Lenore spoke up, “Yes. You can come with me, if you'd like. And the others can take care of… Beam, was it?”

Beam didn't respond. He was staring directly at you, like you were something that fascinated him. You were used to such stares from hell-beings, since they weren't human they tended to be interested in them, but this was different. He looked just like a curious puppy. Nothing like the monster you imagined him to be.

“Yeah,” you said, putting on an easy smile. “The cinnamon rolls just got done, so you can have a few with your friend.”

He looked to Aki, who nodded. Instead of running straight there like he clearly wanted to, he shifted on his feet, staying still for just long enough to say, “Yes. I would like. Veries much.”

You made a mental note about his adorable response. Maybe while he was here, you could help him with the language. After all, this was a place of healing.

“Let’s go have one together,” you offered, leading him into the kitchen.