This is the third part of the five-part emotional and dramatic Helluva Boss oneshot set in Hell; showing a possible scenario where Striker's backstory is revealed to Blitzo.
The end of the Harvest Moon Festival flashback comes, and Blitzo and Striker get into the familiar old argument about Stolas and his grimoire.
Challenged over his mysterious backstory and skills, Striker endeavours to show Blitzo the truth ... and that he's also the best at musical singing!
———
Just to notify everyone, the song used here in this oneshot: 'In My Sights' ... does not belong to me!
This amazing and beyond awesome song was crafted by a person called Paranoid DJ.
All of the credit and copyright for the song belong to Paranoid DJ! Full kudos for making such a fantastic song! 🤩🤩🤩
———
I do not own anything belonging to Helluva Boss; the credit for that story and characters goes to Vivziepop! I hope that you guys like it! 👍
—————
The boss imp gave an equally acknowledging nod and smile to the outlaw.
Blitzo then started to rummage through his pockets; and a few seconds later ... brought out 'Renaldo'.
"You can have this, by the way, pal", he said, passing the toy horse to Striker. The aforementioned cowboy blinked in surprise, and pure astonishment.
There was very, very little that could usually catch Striker off guard ... but this was one of the rare occasions!
"What ... really?" the confused outlaw imp asked, eying 'Renaldo' dubiously. Blitzo nodded, smiling sincerely at the other imp.
"Sure! It's yours now", he said, dropping the little horse into one of Striker's hands.
The cowboy just blinked down at Renaldo, for once ... struck utterly speechless!
Now, Striker was not really in the habit of giving gifts to people out of generosity ... nor was he used to receiving things that way, either.
Blitz is giving me his favourite horse toy: Renaldo? Why the heck is he doing that?! the outlaw thought to himself with bafflement.
He said that it was special, VINTAGE, very hard to get! Why is he just giving it up like that?
Striker then darted a suspicious look across at the oblivious Blitzo ... who was presently occupied with a big flask of Beelzebub juice.
The boss imp had somehow produced that bottle from a jacket pocket, and was drinking the stuff like water.
Is he trying to bribe me to give him something? What's his game?
EVERTHING was practically a game to said cowboy ... one of twists and traps; that he always tried to come out on top of.
In no time at all, Blitzo had finished the drink ... and didn't look intoxicated at all, much to Striker's surprise!
Beelzebub juice was, after all; a pretty hard drink in hell!
"Actually ..." the boss imp drawled, clearing his throat loudly. "I wanted to talk with you out here alone, Striker. For a very good reason."
Blitzo took a deep breath, and threw away the empty flask.
"I want to make you an offer, and I wanted to do it without the others around."
The aforementioned cowboy's spiral eyes instantly glinted with interest, as he slipped the toy horse into a pocket.
"Oh? May I ask what it is?" Striker purred with curiosity, leaning in close to the boss imp's face.
The outlaw was always on the lookout for potentially beneficial opportunities ... ones that benefited him at least.
Striker hadn't known Blitzo for long; but the impression that he had so far ... was of a chap who knew a good deal when he saw one!
"To join my business: I.M.P. As a full-time member", the boss imp said, with a serious yet sincere smile. "What do you say ... partner?"
For the second time, in a matter of minutes ... Striker was once again struck dumb by Blitzo's words.
The boss imp was certainly proving to be one of the most complex yet intriguing demons the cowboy had ever met!
"I don't hand job offers like this out like candy, you know. I only hand them out to the very best people", Blitzo added, gesturing to the outlaw.
"You're strong, tough, and can handle guns and stuff better than a lotta other demons I've met, Striker."
The aforementioned cowboy's grin was growing with every word that came out of the other imp's mouth.
Although flattery couldn't get you EVERYWHERE ... it could get you into some particular people's good graces.
One of those people being Striker.
"Also, you're resourceful and good at improvisation as well", the boss imp added, along with a thumb's up.
"Two things that only the best in this line of work have." It was so true.
Blitzo and his employees wouldn't have been able to pull off most of their 'jobs' with a lot of improvisation and resourcefulness.
"But my business has way more", the boss imp declared, his voice growing softer as his smile grew bigger.
"At I.M.P, we work as a team, but we're way more than that. We're a family ... one that you could join if you wanted?"
Well, well, well, this was certainly a whopper of surprise!
Striker had been taken aback yet again with that little speech about 'family' ... something which hit him to his core.
Assassins usually disdained the idea of working together ... for very good reasons.
It minimised the risk of being taken advantage of, you weren't slowed down by anyone, and you didn't have to share the pay!
But ... then again ... Blitzo and his little crew had been doing very well so far, according to him? Managed the teamwork without much bother?
Maybe ... potentially working with someone might not be such a bad idea? The outlaw's spiral eyes became hooded as an idea slowly came to him.
An idea, which involved Blitzo. It needed some fine-tuning though ... a little workshopping too.
"Been working on that little speech, have you, Blitz?" Striker quipped to the smiling, anticipating boss imp next to him.
Blitzo flushed a little, as he nodded slowly.
"Yeah ... ever since last night", the boss imp admitted, sheepishly. The cowboy then cleared his throat as he prepared a carefully-crafted response.
"Well now, I have to say ... that I'll consider your generous offer, pal", Striker finally said.
He quickly held up a claw to silence an already-disappointed Blitzo, who looked ready to argue with him.
"Just got a teeny little job to finish up here at the festival, you see", Striker explained.
"After that, I might mosey along to your HQ and take the job." A burly imp then passed them, carrying mugs of whisky.
Skilfully, the cowboy grabbed two of the mugs ... without the carrier seeing. He handed one to a relieved Blitzo, who smiled and nodded gratefully.
"I'll hold you to that, partner!" the boss imp said, shooting the outlaw a comradely grin. Striker returned it with a smug smile.
"My thanks for the offer, by the way", he said, raising his mug up.
Secretly, the cowboy had been deeply touched by Blitzo's offer ... but he would never say it aloud. Not in front of others.
It was Striker's 'Golden Rule', after all. Never show one's innermost feelings in front of other people. The boss imp winked, and raised his mug as well.
"No problem, pal", Blitzo said, in satisfaction. "Cheers!"
"Cheers, Blitz!"
As one, the two imps drank the whisky in a single gulp ... and then banged their mugs together in a strange toast!
———
Back in the private hospital waiting room, seconds later ...
BUMP! Blitzo blinked in surprise, shaken from his memories ... as his fist suddenly bumped against another one.
He blinked again as his own bewildered red eyes looked into an equally confused set of yellow spirals.
The boss imp and the cowboy looked down at their fists pressed against each other, still perplexed.
Then the confusion turned to disgust, and the two imps quickly took their hands away ... both grimacing.
It then occurred to Blitzo that Striker must have been having exactly what the same memory flashback as him!
But why? Such a thing was intriguing ... but the boss imp didn't really care at the moment.
"Yeah, you really missed a big opportunity that day", Blitzo said hastily, moving on.
There was a tinge of regret in his voice ... regret for what could have been.
For a second, a flicker of what could have been regret came over the cowboy's face too ... as he looked at his rival.
The boss imp's eyes then narrowed as he smirked, provocative thoughts filling his mind.
"Although, given everything that's happened since ... it might just have been a blessing in disguise!" Blitzo jeered, laughing derisively.
As can be expected, Striker took instant offence to his statement!
"I was only doing a job for a client, Blitzy!" the outlaw growled, the regret turning to outrage. "Just like you do with YOUR clients!"
The aforementioned boss imp just narrowed his eyes, not buying it for one second.
"Oh, come on ... do you really expect me to believe that, sicko?" Blitzo said dryly, while raising an eyebrow.
"I need Stolas ALIVE so that I can actually run my business, dumbo! What good is that royal chicken's dead body to me?" The contempt in the boss imp's voice was as cold as his scowl.
"Without him, how are my employees and I supposed to get to the bloody human world?!" he practically yelled in the disdainful cowboy's face.
Striker just rolled his eyes, not losing his scornful look.
"Couldn't you just keep the grimoire though?" the outlaw pointed out, huffing a little.
"I'm serious, Blitzy. If that feathered blueblood is dead, then who's to know that you have his spellbook?"
The boss imp just rolled his eyes at the cowboy's words, scoffing loudly.
"Haha ... do you really think that I haven't considered that?" Blitzo said, acidly. "Obviously not." He then sighed, his expression turning serious.
"There's a very good reason why I can't do that ... and that is that Stolas's grimoire would easily tracked", the boss imp revealed.
Striker's eyes widened as his disdainful face turned to a thoughtful frown. Ah. That actually WOULD be an issue, the outlaw mentally admitted.
"It's a bloody GOETIA artefact; for Lucifer's sake!" Blitzo spat, in a furious rant.
"Aside from the tracker spell, it would be laden up with all kinds of curses and protection wards against thieves!"
He'd learned this lately from Stolas ... when the boss imp had expressed concerns about others potentially stealing the book.
The Goetia Prince had meant the news to be reassuring, but it still concerned Blitzo ... for good reason.
"Without Stolas's deal, I would be in big trouble ... and probably accused of stealing a Goetia artefact", the boss imp quipped, a despondent look on his face.
"Who knows what would happen to me then." Striker's frown had now become mixed with sympathy ... much to his surprise.
It did seem like Blitzo here was caught between a rock and hard place ... with the 'across to the living world' thing.
Not that the outlaw approved of the boss imp's relationship with the royal ... of course Striker didn't!
But that didn't mean that the cowboy couldn't empathise with Blitzo's situation.
Secretly, the outlaw prayed that the boss imp would have a way out of it one day.
"You may have a point there", Striker murmured ... making Blitzo glance at with surprise and wariness.
"Hmmm?"
"About not able to keep the book if the bird dies, I mean", the cowboy quickly said, huffing.
Blitzo huffed as well, rolling his eyes again and turning away. So much for imagining Striker acknowledges the harsh truth of the matter.
The chance of that was likely only once in a blue moon! There was then utter silence for a moment ... a very pensive one.
"Even though your team and I disagree on many things, Blitzy ..." Striker suddenly spoke. "There's one thing I can agree with."
The boss imp's head snapped around instantly; shock on his face at the spoken agreement.
It was very hard to imagine the outlaw and his team agreeing on anything? Striker just shot him a smug grin as he continued.
"It's high time you had therapy ... considering how screwed-up you are on the inside!"
Blitzo growled through gritted teeth, as he then grabbed Striker's collar with one hand and yanked him close.
"Oi! You're one to talk!" the boss imp snarled at the smirking cowboy. "I saw what you did to Stolas that day! He was tied down, wasn't he?"
Blitzo abruptly let Striker's collar go, snorting disdainfully as he leaned back in his chair.
"Seriously, you talk the big talk about toppling royalty when you need to tie down a prince with angelic rope to beat him?" the boss imp drawled.
He chuckled at the outlaw's reddening face, as it became infused with rage once again.
"Besides, you don't have a past like mine ... you wouldn't know what being screwed-up is like!" Blitzo sneered, a deadpan tone entering his voice.
"You're just a common, crazy, deluded, self-entitled cowboy jerk!"
CRACK! The boss imp jumped a little at the sound of Striker's tail smacking against the ground ... VERY HARD.
"Don't make the mistake of thinking you know me ... Blitz", the master assassin said in a very slow and dangerous voice.
Striker's claws were actually clenching the chair arms so tightly that they were gouging into them. Abruptly, the cowboy's right hand shot out and grabbed Blitzo's lapels.
The boss imp quickly put on an implacable stare as Striker dragged him up to his face ... in a mockery of Blitzo earlier.
"Because. You. DON'T!" the outlaw hissed, menacingly. Said boss imp just looked calmly and coolly into Striker's furious spiral eyes.
"Oh yeah? Then why don't you tell me, jughead?" Blitzo challenged. "If you can, that is?" he added, in a sceptical voice.
The boss imp inwardly smirked, seeing Striker's eyes narrow even more, and his tail rattle with anger.
Bingo.
"All right, I will ..." the cowboy purred, with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "But I'll do it MY way!"
—————
—————
A steady beat abruptly started as Striker sprang from his seat ... deep, slow, and rhythmic.
A twanging guitar was heard too; brash and harsh ... with a Wild West twist to it.
Echoes of past words rippled around the outlaw, filling the air with a sense of menace and danger.
Yeah?
Who's the target?
Heh, consider it done ... hehehe ...
The two imps' surroundings also warped into the Wrath Ring ... volcanoes, fire, deserts, and wastelands galore.
The music also went full blast as Striker grinned smugly, at Blitzo ... whose eyes narrowed cynically.
Of course, the cowboy had to choose a method that matched his massive ego ... just typical.
——
My story's like the others' from the plains of wrath below ...
Striker spun around as he then began singing, his voice a rough but pleasant timbre.
Blitzo couldn't deny that the outlaw had a voice that could beat most singers that he'd heard before.
Inwardly, the boss imp realised that Striker must have been holding back when he sung at the Harvest Moon Festival.
Where you only get dealt losing hands, the only life you'll know ...
The scene around them changed to show various Wrathian imps living their lives in the tough, vicious landscape around them.
Wrangling ferocious wildlife, running from fiery twisters, getting into brawls with various cutthroats etc.
Blitzo couldn't really argue with Striker's reasoning ... since that way of life was a lot more dangerous than in the Pride Ring.
While the rest of them could stay content with the lot that they have drawn ...
The landscape then changed to show Millie's family's farm ... and her loved ones as they lived their lives.
Striker mockingly tipped his hat to Millie's parents, as he then turned to shoot a roguish wink at Blitzo.
The boss imp just glared back at him; remembering how the cowboy had beat up and ruthlessly injured his employees.
I've got ambition more than that, above where I was born ...
Striker just laughed as he continued singing, his golden tooth glinting as his smirk grew and grew with pride.
Blitzo couldn't deny the truth of that, as the cowboy had demonstrated over time even bigger ambitions than HE had.
Their surroundings warped yet again ... this time: to show Striker himself! Unscathed, but still smug, arrogant ... and very dangerous!
——
Some folks'll say there's no such thing as a man who is self-made ...
This Striker was in a shabby-looking motel, but in perfect condition himself as he strapped on his various weapons.
Looking in a mirror, the outlaw grinned and blew a kiss at his reflection ... which smirked back.
Leaving the motel, Striker whistled loudly for Bombproof ... and skilfully leapt onto his steed's back as he cantered up.
Let's see if folks'll say the same when they taste a holy blade ...
The scene then changes to show the cowboy lying on top of a roof, overlooking a town square.
Striker gazes down at the imp civilians below, and chuckles evilly ... a diabolical smirk on his face.
He whips out an angelic dagger, and focuses his gaze on a particular individual in the crowd.
And I ain't one for chatter when I'm on the hunt for blood ...
The duo's surroundings then flicker quickly through a succession of images ... showcasing Striker, and the individual.
The individual is clearly terrified for his life, rushing headlong through a shady alley ... with Striker's silhouette behind him.
The silhouette cackles as it subtly morphs into the familiar grinning cowboy, as he lopes off after his prey.
Better go get your affairs in order 'fore I come to judge ...
It then warps into a scene where the fearful individual bursts into a lodge, and rummages desperately through some drawers.
Striker's shadow falls over him, just as he spins around with a gun ... but suddenly goes limp and collapses.
The outlaw snorts in triumph, kicking the dead body with one boot ... and blowing on his smoking pistol mockingly.
——
So run baby run, gonna have to hunt you down ...
The scene changes to one of the Wrath Ring's wastelands, where Striker is seen galloping on Bombproof after a running demon.
The cowboy's rattling tail whips the hellhorse's flanks, as Striker urges his steed to go faster and faster.
Slipping his lasso from his belt, the outlaw skilfully uses it to catch the fleeing prey ... and hauls in the screaming demon.
When every life will fetch a price, my talent knows no bounds ...
Striker dumps the now-tied-up demon on the floor in a shadowy shack ... still screaming, but muffled by a gag.
He chuckles and puts a boot on the demon's chest to stop him from wriggling away.
The cowboy then looks up as a bag of money is held out to him by a claw ... which he takes with a smirk.
What do you think of the description added to the song lyrics?
The rest of the song will be in Part 4! Vote and comment if you like it! 👍