Lucius reaches the basement door that annoys him the most. Childhood trauma states he took beatings in that room. And was forced to participate in Satanic Rituals in this room the most. And well… there are exquisite Satanist Weapons in there to use and turn on their owners. Along with a few fucks who have needed to be knocked off.
Especially when Sister Mary Anne wouldn't date him. It was literally the one thing that staved off the Satanist Streamer House Experiment from ending. The sexual tension and romance of this relationship was very tempting, but strung out across the time spent flirting with this torturer. And dealing with dumb memes. Like:
"Don't you know I'm twenty years older than you? I knew you when you were a teenager. I watched you puke over killing a bunny." Sister Mary Anne taunts with sadistic glee.
Author's Note: I stopped caring, my Lucius Dehaviell writing here keeps craving first person. We're switching to first person. I will do the rewrite if someone nags me, otherwise I'm taking advantage of how all my comments are bots and Ads to just switch to first person for fun. Nag me to make me take effort and switch from third person to first person the entire time.
It's not even that hard, we're at like, 30kish words. lol . It'd be ummm… honestly not too much work based on ctrl+f to use find and replace alone. And minor adjusting… I'd estimate three hours of work tops assuming I stay focused.
Just prove I have a reader here and nag me. Or we can be chill and not care. Lol I don't even have a contract for any books yet.
During the Lust time in the Satanist Cult where I led it, she refused to have sex with me ever. But was a nudist twice. In response, I snapped my fingers at her pussy to make her cum without touching her. And we fought over that. In Simulation Psychic Warfare. She ended up in a coma over illegal magic sex. I binded her in place with tentacles, and did the things you'd imagine a Satanist Sex Cult leader would do.
I armed myself too well for this though, as it's clear they're aware of me. I have a AK47 with an extended mag on a leather strap across the shoulders. A automatic shotgun on a leather strap as well, hanging on my back. While the Ak is in my hands. And I've got two desert eagles painted gold on my hips. And finally, I have cargo pants and a vest on with an absurd amount of pockets. With finally, a sick ass jacket that I'm regretting wearing. It's already hot, the whole outfit is hot.
And they fucking countered me! They raised the temperature, fucking bitches. It's already 83 degrees, set at 99. And I can't change it. At this rate, I'm gonna need to lower my clothes to shorts and the vest bare minimum, like Straw Hat Luffy. Which well… I packed a pair of nylon shorts just in case for that. They lose all tactical superiority in exchange for being lightweight, able to pack in a cargo pants pocket, though overstuffed. And can be used to be more comfortable in high temperatures. I also wore crocs with no cocks to do minor counters at the start to the heat. It was barely a sacrifice, steel toes in combat are not good for manueverability and are uncomfortable for landing a kick. It's self-sabotage to an extent to use these shoes during combat. As I imagine the steel plates grinding against your feet. But to be fair, I've never had tailor made combat boots for steel toes. I imagine if you made them the… Ugh, Sora grade clown shoes with lots of cushioning and something like chainmail instead of sheer metal plates, you could make them work extremely well.
Anyway, enough ranting about bullshit. It's time to kick this damn door down, and fight off the Satanists. I bet if I keep messing with these rooms' thermometers, it'll fix the temperature. My Dad bragged before there was a Master control for many devices the Satanists' hackers control. But I know them well thanks to actually managing to well… somewhat date Mary Anne a bit. She once trusted me with legit important information.
Only to make me give up, of course. Lol
"So you know the master controls for things like the temperature are in the basement torture rooms? Or other rooms where there's lots of security? Like Demon Servants? Or men on turrets, like your stupid fallout 4 dystopia dumbass likes." Mary Anne argues with sad certainty.
To be fair, it was during the one period we actually cared about each other. It was the closest thing to a marriage I ever had. But she betrayed me for my Father on a dime, fucking her on my bed. It has been a war to an extent ever since. So annoying ever since. It is just a sad, pathetic war to the Machivelli in me.
I benefit so much from the Satanist lifestyle, even just as a figurehead and a arms dealer for them. Like, I dealt with this shit for cash really. And well, the sex parties were great too. I got laid. It's just… war ruined things. War with family was honestly welll, traumatic. But minimal. My family drama feels so pathetic compared to the ex's drama that I saw before hand. Cause that wasn't Mary Anne. That's a bitch I know would fuck my dad. But at least with her, I could groom myself until revealed otherwise she could be trying to rip off my dad or something if she fucks him. LIke I'd bet a gun could be missing if Lilith showed up to fuck you. And that's if she loves you.
I legit am scared of her even getting bored at my house and disappearing. I always had weird shit disappear when we dated, and I hated it. I knew it could happen as a Arms Dealer, but it was never just the guns. I basically became a coincidental chemist or poisoner because of what kept disappearing around me as she kept disappearing with guns and shit.
It began with cleaning products, which made sense. Then one day my trans side flared up. And my makeup vanished. And then…. Stupid shit happened I can barely justify. It feels like Satanist magic just based on makeup. Like she did what she calls "Appearance Vibe Hacks" where she had the face of whatever character or real life person she was vibing the most with in her head at the moment. It was actually cute for the psychologist in me. I hated when it was real people, even myself though that was cute. That was the cutest one actually. But she also does my dad, which I hate. Fuck that bitch, I see it coming from her to suck his dick. All these bitches at this point if I get too schizo. Just based on gold digger economics. He's the real leader, while I am a money bags enough to where they should be satisfied. But ah well, the higher the score, the more there is to dig. And he has more potential still.
Anyway, enough emo ranting. Time to open the door. Maybe luck is on my side.
It wasn't. Mary Anne's fist swings out the doorway as I open it. I narrowly block it with my AK's rifle barrel, twisting her arm to the side as I bring her arm down.
She's hot, tanned, black hair, blah blah. Unfortunately she's a corpse now as I BLAMBLAMBLAM point blank with superior hand work in close range with my AK47 versus fucking punch daggers. Dumb bitch.
FUCK! It's 12 classic dudes. Just like before, but with bullet proof vests. Typical red robed satanists with 4 people in casual clothes, but with red halos. Which is concerning. They are the first true sign of Hell Reigning Here.
I have known that well… I have fought them before. And lived but well. They don't permanently die. They are Fallen Angels, Seraphin, some fucking shit that's a Demonic Angel to me. Which means we rock hard. The Arms Dealer is here. And I know my build well in Hell Mode.
Hell Mode is weird. It's when the Veil is lifted, and magic is at its easiest to use. However, it's bound by your psyche. And I was groomed illegally by videogames to myself compared to Communist Gamers. We don't get free stuff, I am a Capitalist. I must buy or steal my weapons and powers. Which gets one ultimate benfit though: Near Instant Comprehension of the item if bought. Otherwise, the item is a mystery to me.
Currently I see four potential winners for this. In the Demon Angels' hands, there is a demonic shotgun that's a pump model for it. I hate that last part, but love the demon shotgun concept. I am a automatic shotgun man every time. Second is again another Demon Angel, but with a Demonic Revolver which I love. Third is on a wall, Father's Legendary Sword Calbiurn. The black Gladius that slew King Arthur in Mordred's hands. And finally, there is an incomplete weapon I can finish using my own Satanist Blacksmith moves if I use their body parts on a stone ritual torture table. Especially the Demon Angels. I might save one for the end and keep them alive till they're the only one left.
But it's combat, so we can't commit to that too hard. I panic or get efficient too easily in the midst of combat.
Cover is minimal, just stone ritual tables that are half a foot above hip height. Great cover besides you have to crouch the whole time. And enough attacks destroy it. But near guaranteed to block almost every attack at least a few times, even if the Demon Angels do something epic.
I open fire, they do as well at the same time. Then the Revolver Angel snaps his fingers and slows time. I curse, annoyed as hell. Eyes water as I'm frustrated. I am still fast enough to keep up thankfully, which I'm not surprised by. I've dealt with this level of combat before with the Demon Angels. I am always a bit fast in Slow Time.
I casually walk to a table, deciding to take out the human cultists first with a burst of controlled AK47 fire. I sweep across the room, taking out all of them before the Slow Time one reaches me cause I'm that fucking good. I am a GAWD DAMNED CYBORG of auto aim godliness compared to these fucking newbbbbsssss.
I try reloading but he actually just cuts my AK in half at the bullet ejection point, fucking douche. I push him back with a punch to the throat, which he ignores casually. High durability on this fuck. The other three surround me. The other two are armed with a flaming sword and a flaming spiked ball and chain with considerable length that appears to be alive as a Demon Weapon too. That means it has adjustable length that is unknown for now near guaranteed if it's designed well.
The Angels all have near black skin with red eyes, and blood red hair of different styles. Revolver D. Angel (D. Angel is short for Demon Angel now) has a cowboy hat and short hair with no real style. It is the natural style for short male hair. Shotgun Demon has a big flaming afro that is growing a flaming skull in the center that is probably getting fired at me soon. Sword dude is long hair down to his hips like Sephiroth. And finally, the Ball and Chain is a woman with longer hair, somehow down to her feet. I hope she trips on it, but she's magic. So it's probably hair magic with her. And maybe him too, ugh. If it grows, it doesn't need to be a shower like hers. But it shows enough already.
They surround me on four points. I adjust my style, shotgun in left hand. Desert Eagle in the right. I open fire at the Shotgun Demon with my pistol, he counters with his shotgun. I spam my bullets, firing at every individual shotgun pellet and shoot them out the air before they can reach me. How? That's my real magic. I am legit a Demonic Gunner God to myself. Or well, Half Daemon, whatever they call it. Point is, my magic is being a Mage Gunner or some shit. Roll with it.
My ultimate perk is unlimited ammo but it's blood magic if I overuse it. For better or for worse. Blood Mage mode deals bonus damage. But hurts me as it literally sucks my blood out for it to make the new bullets. Which are raw, we will explore them in full when I use them properly.
I reload my desert eagle with one hand easily as they pick up a new formation against me. The ranged users, spiked ball and chain and the revolver take ranged positions in the corners. While Shotgun does melee.
I am strong enough to do this like a real dual wielder, don't fret readers. I begin with thrusting forward with the shotgun, firing twice as its automatic. He has a shield activate that breaks on the second shot, blinding me. He hits me point blank with the shotgun.
But guess what? Nothing ever makes sense about magic land.
"You're lucky the Veil strengthens us when its down. In the 'Real World', you'd be in a coma at least bucko. Cold Iron is no joke, Fae Boy." Shotgun D. Angel snarls with wise malice.
He isn't wrong. The Veil strengthens traditional death methods, while lowering it allows magic at the cost of increasing stats like durability which are good and bad. That's why it's still popular to kill each other when The Veil is up. It's cause The Veil is Human Hours, where Human Weapons like Swords and Guns reign supreme.
So instead, the bullets are trying to dig into my flesh. And I counter with Nooj the Smoker Demon. A trick inspired by Smoke Demons like that Smoker Ninja from Mortal Kombat. I light a cigarette, and smoke exudes out my body as I inhale. And the bullets stop spinning and fall to the ground.
"What a parlor trick. I remember this fucking brat now. He's our Leader's Wayward Son, Lucius Dehaviell. Be on your toes. He's beaten me before." Shotgun D. Angel says seriously.
I sigh when he says that. He's too serious. He will be a stubborn foe. D. Angels get better gear as this goes.on. And well…
Two of them vanish immediately. Shotgun and Spiked Ball and Chain. Leaving Revolver behind.
"Looks like they're adjusting their loadout. Good thing I'm a fellow gun mage, brat. And I am a Primordian Being that was there when the gun was invented. It was invented in the A.D. era thankfully, so don't worry. It's only a 1000 or so years advantage on you." Revolver D. Angel says with cocky malice. "Fun fact, my Sins are Greed, Pride, and Lust."
"I FUCKING HATE THAT COMBO FOR MAGIC LAND! DON'T FALL IN LOVE WITH ME!" I scream furiously.
"Already did, it, auto-aim is on for me too. I stalked you for that as soon as I learned your aim was buffed by your magic and I didn't have the perk yet." Revolver D. Angel says with happy malice. "It will be a bit sad to kill you as I had to genuinely stalk and love you for your perks. But it was worth it, you have a amazing perk tree worth devouring as you gamers say: Fear and Hunger Termina style." he rants malevolently.