Discord: Before the Fall

It was a hell of a way to die

It was a hell of a way to die. I don't remember exactly how, but I knew it was a hell of a way to do it. I mean it's been over 200 years. A 16 year old who died. Had to be a good one. A gruesome bloody one. Especially with the profession I had. That's the one thing that stay with you. Your passions. And mine was for murder. That's probably why I was sent to hell in the first place. Imagine a 16 year old hired gun. A teenage bounty hunter. From what I can remember, I was damned good at my job too. Most people remembered me from my glory days when I descended. They knew me as Reaper. Nothing else. I don't have a name to anyone anymore. I barely have a name for myself. It rarely gets used if at all. Maybe once a decade when I refer to myself. They recognised me straight away too. No matter how different I looked now that I'm a tiefling. I was still the 16 year old kid that murderers knew and loved. Age and looks tend not to change too much. Even if I was 234 years old, I still looked the same age as I died. Just with horns and fangs and a tail now. When I died I made a deal with a higher class demon, Mammon, then later made a deal with Satan. The demon council members dote on me, they have done for a while. They use me for my skill and power that I now have. Now that I'm kind of dead I mean. They use me to kill Death Breathers and humans that they need removing. Sometimes lower class angels, mechs and the such. Casual kills that don't take much effort. The humans call me death, that's what they think I am. Sometimes they even call me Lucifer, not a bad title but again no. Most people know me as Reaper. The guys and gals at the bar do. But my real name, is Damian, Damian Ashborn.
                             ***

Lilith was dancing in the ribbons again, trying to entertain those in the bar. Most didn't particularly care for her. Most apart from Asmodeus' disciples. They made me sick. They all lust for Succubi and Incubi. Unfortunately for Lilith, she was also a follower of Leviathan, and that just made her even more desirable. Don't get me wrong, she was beautiful even without her powers in play, but her feramones made her seem that much better. It didn't work on me, her charm never did. She had lavender skin and ice blue eyes that pierced like a dagger. She looked almost dragonesque in features. Some people were just into that though. Not me. Incubi never had a hold on me.
The rest of the bar was the usual hubbub, it was a circus style bar, for demons alone to hide out when they needed to recharge or relax. It was difficult wearing a human form all day and we are "alive" too. Well more resurrected at best but it's difficult to explain. So Asmodeus and Beelzebub set it up. It's essentially a circus style strip club. With three strippers and no income except the regulars. To be honest, it only stays open as a hang out and dealing zone. The amount of drugs run through here and guns hired could set this place up for life. At least it did anyway. Unless you were friends with the staff or were a business man, you didn't stay long. Maybe one or two rounds in the bar and they were gone. It didn't matter really. It was home for us that came regular. Or as homey as a strip club was going to get.
Mercer was behind the bar, I swear he basically lived here. He never was anywhere else, and was always the barkeep when I popped in. I was watching the surroundings from my booth in the corner. The entire place was neon in colour. It killed my eyes at times. I was getting used to it though, or at least I hoped I was. The pub was semi-busy and I was desperately trying to avoid light talk and find my next assignment. Hopefully anyway. If I was needed they'd find me. Or at least they always managed to before. Demon habit. And that's when it hit me, quite literally too. A massive fireball hit me straight in the face and bounced, burning into the chair opposite me. Luckily I'm fireproof. Well at least my skin is.
I doused the flames and batted the singed parts of my shirt and glared at the fireball, now raging blue. I continued glaring at it until it turned a neon green. Of course, it was always that prick.
"Belphagor? Or are you being lazy and sending a minion again?" I hissed.
"Reaper. Good to hear from you again. I hope your rested," the flame sparked and spat at me, elongating the s into a snake like hiss.
"Belphagor, you actually got out of your lava pool! It's a miracle. Now what in the Hellfire do you want Dickwad?"
"As pleasant as always child. In return, I have a job for you." The flame spat more sparks at me, setting my top alite. I quickly brushed my hand over it and the flames on my shirt disappeared.
"Cut to the chase prickstick. You want me to kill someone because you can't be arsed and it's easier to send a flame call to me then finding a good enough minion to do it for you." He laughed through the flame and sent more sparks toward me. I felt my eyes glow in fury but I quickly calmed myself. This was going to be a long conversation.
"Death Breathers, your experienced, yes?" He didn't wait for me to respond, "There is a powerful one around, the entire council can feel it, probably a demon turned one. It's most likely a previous Mammon worshiper, or at least that's what Satan says. Arachnikind. West district, feeding off humans left right and centre in the night. Stop it before Angels get involved, as far as we're aware they haven't sensed it yet. Get to work Reaper." The flame sparked once more and disappeared.
Well I guess I'm not sleeping in tomorrow. I summon my scythe and chuck some money on the bar top as I pass. The staff watched as I pulled my hood up and put my mask on, changing quickly into my human skin. Off to work I guess.