Once again, he was in the forest.
Once again, he was face to face with the hellbeast.
But something's different this time.
His arm hurts. Why is it hurting so much?
The hellbeast was now inches away from his face.
He blinked and found the hellbeast gone.
Instead, he saw himself.
Moxxie awoke.
Instinctively, he glanced to the side of the bed to check on Millie.
Moxxie almost jumped as he saw a strange, crimson trail smoking out of her sleeping form. It smelled strongly of sweat, blood and adrenaline.
"What the...?"
He knew there was something off when he realized he was seeing in black and white again. The only speck of color came from the red and green trails all over the bedroom accompanied by overwhelming smells—red for Millie's, minty green for his own.
Moxxie figured it would pass, but as seconds went on, it never did.
As he stepped off bed, his shoulder hit the wall. Ow, that hurt!
Wait a minute.
Why did he hit the wall? It's about three meters away from bed.
His heart almost came to a full stop as he happened to glance at his side of the bed.
He was seeing himself.
His own body was fast asleep in his bed.
"T-This can't be! If that's me, then how am I-?!"
Is he dreaming? Is this an out of body experience of sorts.
Moxxie barely contained a yell as he brought a hand to his forehead only to realize it was a large, clawed paw.
No.
No, no, no!
Moxxie ran in a beeline towards the bathroom—inadvertently bringing down the door in the process—to look at his reflection in the mirror.
A freckled hellbeast stared right back at him with a horrified expression.
Moxxie looked at his body in bed, then back at the mirror, half-expecting this to be a bad dream or something of the sort.
But nothing changed.
"No, no, this can't be happening to me!" the thespian-turned-hellbeast examined his newfound body in dismay. "I don't get it! Why did this happen?!"
His ears twitched at the sound of shifting fabric and creaking wood. Moxxie quickly slipped into the bathtub just as Millie came into the bathroom.
Moxxie barely stopped himself from gulping, making no sound or movement.
The slightest disturbance could alert his wife.
Millie seemed to still be half-asleep, as she didn't catch a glimpse of the massive hellbeast in her bathroom. She merely did her business on the toilet, grabbed a glass of water and went back to bed.
Moxxie sighed—sorry, snorted—in relief. That was a close one!
He quietly crawled out of the bathroom. Millie was back in bed, snuggling against his 'sleeping' form.
Damn it, this is bad! What should he do?
Striker!
He had to see Striker!
Moxxie quietly opened the window and somehow managed to go through it without making too much noise.
Lamian almost looked like a different place at night. The streets were mostly deserted except for the nightly patrols of the Goetia guards.
He couldn't afford to be seen as a bloody hellbeast by either hunters or guards.
So Moxxie found himself jumping from one rooftop to another in direction of the wall.
His movements started slow and clumsy, as he wasn't used to quadruped locomotion. But with each jump, he became more confident.
One of the roof tiles gave in under Moxxie's weight, causing his paw to slip and lose its balance.
Moxxie fell off the building with a loud scream—sorry, shriek—landing on his side with a painful thud.
"Owowow... Damn it..."
"Motherfuck—"
His ears pricked. There was someone else with him in that alley.
Moxxie turned around and found a tall imp with long, curved horns with a strong orange smell of alcohol on the ground, looking scared out of his wits.
Oh, shit! Blitz!
"Blitz, I-I can explain...!"
But Blitzo did't seem to hear him. He crawled away from Moxxie, hand searching for something in his jacket.
Moxxie's stomach sank when Blitzo pointed a pistol at his head.
"B-Blitz, wait!! It's me!"
PAM!
The bullet brushed past Moxxie's cheek, leaving a burn mark in the process.
For once, he was glad that Blitzo was drunk.
Moxxie didn't want for Blitzo to take another shot. He turned tails and sped out of there faster than the next round of bullets.
The thespian jumped unto the top of the wall from a nearby rooftop. And from there, he took a great leap over the ditch-river surrounding the town, a feat an imp couldn't do. Once he was back on the ground, he dashed toward the forest.
Moxxie could hear his own heartbeat drumming as he ran through the thick foliage, calling out Striker's name. Trails of colors—scents of different animals—danced around him as the creatures moved out of his way.
One of the scent-trails, a bright hazel one, was familiar to Moxxie. Hellbeast fur, leaves, testosterone...
Striker!
Moxxie followed the hazel trail towards the secret entrance to the sanctuary. This time, the vines glowed and opened up by themselves, granting the new Hellwalker passage into the Haven.
The trail led Moxxie towards the waterfall, up the rocky slope and—
Right into a hellbeast.
—*HB*—
"OOF!"
Striker was completely caught off guard when something rammed into him.
Another hellbeast.
The two of them rolled down the tunnel and into the main cavern. Striker made a perfect last flip to place himself on top of the intruder, teeth bared.
"Striker!"
Striker raised his ears. That voice...!
Wait a minute. White freckles on the cheeks, white mane, crimson red hide...
"Vermin?!"
Moxxie crawled from under Striker's larger hellbeast form. "Something's happened!"
"Don't tell me!" Striker circled around Moxxie, tail wagging anxiously. "B-But how?! I fixed the fuckin' bite!"
"Fix?! What is that supposed to mean?!"
"Clayton, what's going on?"
"Dad, who's that?"
Moxxie turned to the tunnel entrance. Jane and Jake—the latter in hellbeast form—stood there. Jane's scent was of a bright magenta, and it smelled of hay, early morning dew and mayflowers. Jake, on the other hand, had a lively yellow color with a sweet touch.
"We have a problem, kiddo." Striker told his son sternly. "Seems you turned the townie into a Hellwalker after all."
"Wait, is that...?"
"Yes, this is the vermin."
"Moxxie?" Jake approached warily and sniffed Moxxie. His tail began wagging. "Cool! You're a Hellwalker!"
"Cool?! That's none of the words I'd use to describe this situation!" Moxxie snarled unintentionally. "How did this happen?! I'm a fucking Hellwalker!"
"That's what happens when you're bitten by a Hellwalker when in hellbeast form."
You've probably noticed by now. Every smell, every vision, every single sound increasin' tenfold.
Wait.
Striker had been in a hurry to fix the bite Jake gave him a few days ago.
Why?
"You knew..." Moxxie shot accusingly, volume increasing. "You knew this would happen to me!"
Striker snorted. "Sorry, little fella."
"Seriously?! That's all you're going to say! Blitz almost killed me, for Satan's sake!"
Moxxie jumped as one of the hellbeasts sniffed him from behind. In fact, the entire pack seemed to be gaining a newfound interest in him. Bombproof stood protectively around Moxxie and snarled loudly, causing the pack to disperse.
"So this happened because Jake bit me?"
"Aye. Why did you think I wanted to fix that bite as soon as possible!" Striker snorted in dismay. "Seems like I might have healed it a few minutes too late."
Jane stepped forward, hand resting on her abdomen. "Moxxie, I know you're scared right now, but you need to calm down." she said, running a hand down his leg.
Moxxie's raised his ears—or rather, the ears raised automatically in response to his emotions —in surprise. It was an odd sensation.
"Wait, you... you're understanding me what I'm saying? I tried telling Blitzo it was me, but I think he didn't understand me when he was trying to put a bullet in my skull!"
"That's cause Jane's one of us too, little dude. Regular town imps only hear hellbeast sounds from us." Striker explained.
"Wow, this is flippin' great!" Jake was laughing as he circled all around and underneath Moxxie. "We aren't the last ones anymore!"
"Brash would beg to differ. He's flexible when it comes to rules, but he's always taken the 'no bitin' rule seriously." Striker shook. "He's gonna throw a fuckin' fit when he comes back and finds a new Hellwalker on the prowl."
"W-What about my body?"
Jane gestured Moxxie towards the stone seat. Striker and Jake's bodies—the latter seated in his father's lap—were there, apparently in a deep sleep.
"When you fall asleep, your spirit leaves your body in the form of a hellbeast. Meanwhile, your body is safe and sound where you left it, but whatever happens to your hellbeast body will be reflected in your imp body."
Moxxie eyed Jane curiously. He hadn't seen her as a hellbeast yet. "Why aren't you...?" Jane rubbed her stomach, smiling.
"I can't turn into a hellbeast with a package on the way," she whispered.
"Pregnant Hellwalkers need all of their strength for the baby in the womb, so their spirits stay inside their bodies for nine whole months." Despite the larger form, Striker rubbed his nose against his wife's belly with the utmost tenderness.
"Is there any other way to stay 'inside' my body? I-I don't know, a spell, a charm, or anything like that?"
Striker snorted. "Vermin, if we had somethin' like that, we wouldn't need to live to live away from civilization to begin with. Once ye transform, there's no turnin' back."
"You're telling me I'll have to stay awake for the rest of my life?!"
"You could stay here in the forest with us!" Jake suggested, tail wagging. "It's nice! You get to play, run and do whatever you want all the time! I don't know why everyone acts as if this were a bad thing!"
"It's complicated, sweetie."
"Especially considerin' that the vermin here lives inside the town walls surrounded by hunters and Goetian soldiers."
"That's the least of my problems! What worries me is how I'm supposed to go back to Millie like this!" Moxxie groaned in dismay. "She'd probably kill me on sight!"
Striker didn't blame the townie for thinking like that. From what he'd seen so far, this 'Millie' woman was not a force to be reckoned with. She's a hellbeast hunter, after all, even if she carried no angelic weapons—that he knew of, that is. This made Moxxie's situation even harder.
"Clayton, why don't you teach Moxie how to handle this new form?" Jane suggested. "It might help him calm down and focus on what he'll do next."
"That's nice of you, Jane, but I don't think that—"
"She's right, vermin." Striker cut him off. "Ye'll get yerself killed if ye walk around as a hellbeast without knowin' how to be one." .
"Ooh! Can I go with ya, dad? I wanna teach Moxxie too!"
"Yes, you can, sweetie. Bombproof can say here with me." Jane said before her husband could refuse. Striker looked like he wanted to protest, but merely sighed.
"Alright, vermin, it's time for yer first lesson."