Y/N's P.O.V

"You know, you really can keep a girl wanting more, you know that?" Kiki sighs, laying on her side with the bed covers draped over her nude body.

"And you're just as much a flatterer as you are a lovely woman" I reply, complimenting her while pulling my shirt on over my head. 

I sit on the edge of my bed facing away from her, though mostly because my clothes were thrown on the floor. The thin, red-skinned lady with hair the color of a fading blue sunset just chuckles to herself and rests her chin on her palm as she watches me dress.

"Well what can I say? You're my most frequent and most favorite client, so I don't mind giving a little extra sometimes" Kiki smiles, sitting up while remaining covered.

"And there's always a reason for that too" I tell her, putting my favorite (F/C) jacket on before turning around and looking at her, "I enjoy your company and it's nice to have someone like you around."

"If I didn't know any better, Y/N, I'd say you're trying to get a few more minutes out of me" Kiki slyly teases, leaning forward and running a finger down my cheek, "But, alas, I have to get going. My boss is going to start wondering where I am if I don't turn up."

"That's a shame, but it is what it is" I shrug, accepting that she has to go and opening a drawer in the end table next to my bed, pulling a little rollup of cash out, "I trust this will cover things for today."

"Of course" Kiki nods, taking the money from me and beginning to put her fishnet top and black skirt on, "You haven't given me a reason to doubt you yet, so I don't see a reason too now."

"And I never will" I promise her, the succubus pulling her high-heeled boots on and standing up from my bed.

"I'll see you again soon, Y/N" She smiles, looking over her shoulder at me.

"You can count on it" I reply, returning the smile.

Kiki then walks out of my room and I listen to the sounds of her boots clicking against the hardwood floor before the sound of my front door opening and closing tells me she's gone. Exhaling, I stretch my neck and back, feeling a bit tired even though, according to my clock, it's only 7:04 P.M. I might as well get a little something to eat though, so I stand up and leave my bedroom, heading directly into the kitchen/dining room. I settle for a yogurt cup, peeling the cap off and merely leaning up against my kitchen counter as I eat.

My apartment's nothing special, just a small bedroom that has my bed, end table, and closet mixed with a bigger living room with a couch up against the wall of my bedroom, a coffee table in front of the couch, and a TV on the opposing wall and a small kitchen with U-shaped counters with an open-air, built-in bar counter with accompanying stools. And, as mentioned, hardwood floors, which is better because it allows me to hear anyone and anything walking around this place that may or may not belong. Why would that matter exactly? Well, it has to do with my profession.

The job has many names. Hitman, assassin, contract killer, gun for hire, etc. I don't really care what I'm called as long as I get paid for the contract. The gist of it is that somebody has a price on their head, put on by somebody else, and as long as I, and my small but efficient inventory of weapons, kill them and send proof, I'm compensated for my efforts. But, depending on the timely manner specified in the contract, I sometimes have to hurry to kill the target and collect the reward, but that's only if it's really worth it. Most times, I get by with pretty standard contracts, which pay for the apartment and my...visits with Kiki. 

Being in Hell, it's actually a fairly recognizable field of profession. In fact, it's well-known enough that communication between employers and people like me got simplified into a downloadable app a couple years ago. Anyone can use it, but it's different for employers than it is for assassins. For them, the app displays a list of all available hitmen and employers can read our individual profiles, which list our skills and proficiencies, and choose one of us to complete a job for them. The more successful jobs an assassin pulls off, the higher ranked they are and more popular they become. On my end, I just have chat logs with past employers, which are used to communicate the specifics of the job and, once I've completed it, the visual proof and monetary compensation. The chats are private and the money received through the app can be made into cash at select locations where it isn't likely to be stolen. It's all been narrowed down to a science and since both employers and hitmen alike keep things professional and all about business, things go smoothly without any fear of tricks, lies, or cheating.

What sucks for me is being stuck in the Pride Ring, because I'm a sinner and all that nonsense. Unlike the imps that live around these parts, who can travel to any of the Rings of Hell, I can't leave this one for some unknown reason, which makes my skills as an assassin less valuable compared to some other assassins that can travel beyond the Pride Ring. Funny. It's been five years since I've died and ended up down here and I still haven't figured it out. And I almost wonder if I ever will. I feel like I'll need to at some point, because if I've ever to rank up, I'll need to be able to traverse the Rings.

My phone then buzzes from the other room, making it perfect timing as I've just now finished with my bit of yogurt. Tossing the empty cup away, I leave the kitchen and walk back into my bedroom, retrieving my phone off of the end table and opening my messages. Not my contract messages, though, my regular messages. It's Stella, asking me if I'm on my way to the party. Mentally cursing myself, I text her back and tell her I'm enroute now before putting my phone in my pocket. Octavia's 19th birthday party was scheduled for today and I had honestly almost forgotten about it. Getting on my hands and knees, I pull out a sack from underneath my bed and look inside to ensure that the wrapped gift is still in there. The gift is a particular taxidermy piece from Stylish Occults, Octavia's favorite place to visit. We went there a lot together and I paid attention enough to know that she really wanted it. I set the sack to the side and then lightly touch an indentation in the hardwood floor. Moving the wooden tiles down, up, left, and right like a puzzle game, I expose my weapon cache, which is really just an open black container that my guns rest in. Figuring that I can try for a contract on my way back from the party, I remove the carrying case containing my sniper rifle, my usual handgun, the other handgun I have with a silencer on it, and the two aforementioned handgun's holsters.

Securing the holsters around my waist, I place both guns inside them and sling the sniper rifle case over my back, moving the floor tiles around until they're back in their original position. Then, I open the window next to my end table and grab Octavia's gift before slipping out onto the catwalk just outside the window. Crouching down, I close the window and walk down the couple flights of stairs to the ground below. With the gift sack in hand, I then make my way in the direction of the Goetia mansion, which is a bit towards the west side of Imp City.

The Goetia's have been very kind to me during my time in Hell. Stella and Stolas especially, being almost like second parents to me. Octavia, their daughter, is my very best friend and we became that way after I helped her through a difficult time in her life. Her parents didn't always get along like they do nowadays. Stolas used to take imps to bed inside the mansion and Stella was getting pissed about it, to the point where she'd frequently yell at him and even throw things. Octavia, sometimes, got caught in the middle, but I was there for her and gave her someone who she could confide in and keep her mind away from her home life. Our trust in each other grew and our friendship blossomed as a result. And after a while, I helped Stella and Stolas work out their problems, getting Stolas to be more open and faithful to Stella while explaining to Stella that the nature of owls are to find other mates and not be particularly faithful. Sure, it was contradictory at the time, but both understood each other better and after seeing what their fighting was doing to Octavia, they both promised to be better. I just can't wait to see Octavia again. Turning 19 while I'm stuck at 21, which is apparently the age I'll always look from a physical standpoint due to it being the age I died at.

But as I'm casually strolling through the streets and giving the occasional passerby demon the eye to not try anything, which they still wouldn't, given the fact that I'm an assassin, my mind drifts back to Kiki. Though we haven't known each other as long as I've known Octavia and her parents, Kiki and I have certainly clicked pretty easily. It's not a romantic relationship by any means, given her profession, and I don't want it to be either. It might be hypocritical of me, but despite my personal perspective that succubus don't have any class, I still can't bring myself to not indulge in their services. I found Kiki to be quite beautiful and for a little while, she reminded me of....her. But I had to remind myself that Kiki wasn't Verosika and I didn't want her to be. We broke up three years ago and I don't want to think back to those times. Kiki was, and is, kind, beautiful, and we maintained a good business relationship for so long that we each became each other's favorites. And sometimes, I can't get enough of her.

Shaking my head, I realize that I've arrived at the Goetia mansion. The tall, majestic building with its intricate designs and multitude of windows hasn't become an old sight to me just yet, let alone the twin entry gates and cobblestone path leading to the front doors. The demons standing guard at the gates recognize me easily and let me pass, leading to me heading up the path once the aforementioned gates open enough for me to slip through. I walk right up to the two front doors and rap the knocker against the one on the right, waiting for someone to come answer it. As I wait, I notice that they're hedges have taken on a new shape since I last came. Stolas must be getting really into botany lately. And, speaking of the Prince, the tall regal-looking owl demon himself appears from inside the mansion, the door opening as I turn to see him standing there.

"Y/N, my dear boy, so glad you could come" Stolas smiles cheerfully, leaning down for a small hug.

"It's nice to see you too, Stolas" I smile back, "How've you been?"

"As well as can be expected, which is to say quite well" The Prince answers, "But let's not delve too deeply in that right now. I imagine you're looking to surprise my little owlette, am I correct?"

"Yes, indeed" I say, holding up her gift sack, "Because I'm sure she'll be thrilled with what I've got for her."

"I'm sure she will too" Stolas agrees, nodding and gesturing for me to enter, "Now, please, come in, come in!"

I head inside, letting Stolas close the door as I immediately head for the stairs. The entryway spills out into two hallways running in opposite directions along with parallel staircases built into the walls a bit further in front of me. Both stairs lead up to the second level, which has a railing on both ends and leads in opposite directions as well. The space between the two staircases, down on the main level, lead past the stairs and make the corridors venture off in a U formation, the middle of the U having a see-through window into the large dining room. I, however, tip toe up the stairs and go down the left hallway once I reach the top. Navigating the blue-themed hall with ease, I come to Octavia's customly stylized door after a bit of walking. She used to be in a room down in the other direction when she was younger, so that her parents could keep an eye on her, but now that she's older and more independent, she requested to move rooms to have more privacy. Listening intently, I faintly hear music playing inside her room, no doubt from her favorite band Fuck You Dad. I smile at the name, thinking how targeted Stolas must've felt when initially hearing Octavia tell him about it.

"Candygram" I announce, knocking loud enough on her door for her to hear me.

There's a bit of a pause and then the music stops playing, footsteps then sounding from the room before the door opens, revealing Octavia herself. She looks very happy to see me, coming forward and hugging me nice and warmly. I smile and rest my chin on top of her beanie-covered head. She's certainly getting taller because it wasn't that long ago that the top of her head reached just below my chest.

"How's it going, my Night Owl?" I ask her, using the nickname I gave her when she was younger.

"Loads better now that you've come, N/N" Octavia answers, using the nickname she gave me.

"Happy 19th Birthday" I say to her, pulling back and taking out the gift from the sack.

"Aww, you didn't have to get me anything" Octavia smiles widely, gently taking the gift from me.

"Well, you know, being an assassin isn't the worst paying job there is, so I think I'm allowed to spoil my best friend every so often" I slyly tease her, Octavia holding the gift close.

"Thank you so much, Y/N. I truly mean it" She says, glancing over her shoulder into her room before looking back at me, "Would you like to come in before we take this downstairs and start the party?"

"Maybe later, Via" I politely decline, "Besides, I can't wait to see your reaction to everything your parents got you."

"Hehe, you kidding me? I'm anxious to see what's inside this thing" Octavia smiles, raising an eyebrow at me while holding up the box closer to her face to try and figure out what's inside.

 But, she just chuckles and lowers it back down again before reaching behind her and pulling her bedroom closed. She then sticks close by as we then start walking down the hallway back towards the stairs.

"Can you tell me some stories about the jobs you've done?" Octavia asks, sounding genuinely curious and excited. I leave the smile on my face and put an arm over her shoulders.

"I'd be happy to, Via" I reply, Octavia's excitement intensifying, "After all, I know how much you like hearing about my profession."

"Who wouldn't? It's cool, dangerous, and takes you loads of places. I almost wish I could enter into the business myself and that way we could be partners" Octavia expresses, her eyes flitting back and forth as she's no doubt visualizing that exact thing in her mind as she's speaking about it.

"That would be neat, yeah" I nod, "Though I'd have to teach you many of the skills I know, along with how to defend yourself and, most importantly, how to improvise if things don't go the way you want them too. But it is a career that has a considerable amount of risk to it. I'd think long and hard about it before going and suggesting it to your parents."

Octavia and I then reach the stairs, make our way down to the main level, and then head directly for the dining room. Opening the door for the birthday girl, Octavia walks right in, pleasantly surprised at the decorations put up. Banners are hung up around the stained glass windows on either side of the room, balloons are plentiful, there's custom napkins and a custom tablecloth, and the large spinning sculpture hanging down from the domed ceiling in the middle of the room has streamers on it. Stella and Stolas stand side by side on the other end of the largely elongated table, both smiling and waiting patiently for Octavia to come over as a large black and dark blue cake rests near the end of the table.

"Happy Birthday, Via!" Stella says to her daughter.

Octavia nearly runs her parents over with how quickly she runs across the room and gives them both a hug. Stella and Stolas don't hesitate to hug back, all three members of the Goetia family smiling and happy, which, in turn, makes me happy. Funny how a few years ago, I wouldn't have imagined a scenario like this coming to pass with how divided they were between each other. But I'm glad it isn't like that anymore. Leaning against the wall, I watch the familial display of warm affection take place. Stella soon takes notice of me, though after all them separate from the hug.

"What are you doing standing way over there, Y/N? You come over and give me a hug right this instant" The swan orders in a motherly tone, crossing her arms.

Keeping the smile on my face, but also chuckling at Stella's maternal instincts, I speed walk my way over to her and let her hug me while also hugging her back. It's a tad more brief than the one with her daughter, but that's to be expected. She does, though, lightly grab my chin and turn my head as if looking for injuries, which I admittedly have a few recent ones.

"What happened here?" The Goetia matriarch demands, "And where'd this come from?"

"Some dude was particularly rowdy as I was trying to put a bullet between his eyes" I playfully respond. Stella shakes her head.

"Just be careful, will you? You know I don't enjoy seeing you needlessly injured" She asks of me.

"Sure thing, Mom" I joke with her, Octavia laughing a little at my comment while her mother blushes in embarrassment.

"Now, let's begin the party, shall we?" Stolas speaks up, moving us right along from the awkward silence that would've been created if we stood there much longer.

The Prince pulls out the table head chair for his daughter and Octavia sits herself down, her father pushing Octavia back in towards the table as her mother and I take our seats on the right. Stolas then sits himself down before waving his hand over the cake and using his demonic magic to make all the candles light up simultaneously. Octavia stares at it for a moment, probably thinking of her wish, and then blows them out with a chain reaction that puffs all the candles out one after the other pretty rapidly. We all clap for her, Stolas then taking it upon himself to bring out the cutting knife and ask Octavia what size slice she wants. Typically, he or Stella would have one of their servants do it, but to show that they care, they've begun putting more personal effort into their daughter's birthday rituals. Octavia and her father begin talking to each other more closely, which gives Stella the chance to talk more to me.

"I know we touched on this somewhat already, but..how has your..job been treating you?" She asks, treading lightly on the subject.

"To be honest, Stella, it's not as exciting and thrilling as it used to be" I reply, sighing and watching Stolas and Octavia laughing together a couple seats over, "Not too long ago, there'd be times where I'd have to chase a target down or take down a number of personal bodyguards around a target before getting to him/her. Nowadays, all that thrill is just gone. Jobs are way less engaging and it doesn't help that I don't have someone to come home to after the day is done."

"Really?" Stella frowns, looking over at me, "When's the last time you dated?"

"Remember...Verosika?" I tell her, it paining me to say her name.

"Oh" Stella recalls, slowly nodding, "Right."

"You mind if we take this into the kitchen? I don't want to kill the mood of the party if we're going to keep delving down this rabbit hole" I suggest.

"Sure thing" Octavia's mother agrees, standing up from her seat and following me through the set of doors just a little ways away.

The kitchen is on the other side, consisting of two L-shaped counters with cabinets above and below, along with an island on each side of the room, and a long rectangular table with a couch placed behind it and an oval-shaped window placed behind that. It's also fairly dark inside, much like the hallways outside Octavia's room. Resting my arms on one of the island counters, Stella goes into the cabinets above the counter and gets out a bottle of wine.

"Want a drink?" She offers.

"No thank you" I politely decline, Stella then just grabbing one glass from the cabinet and filling it partially before standing across from me on the island.

"So, why is it that you haven't tried dating again?" The swan gently inquires, "Because from what you told me about what happened between you and that succubus, I hardly think that you should feel at fault or hung up about it to the point where you don't want to pursue other romantic relationships."

"I understand that, yes, but as hard as I try to put her behind me, I still can't forget about her" I bite my lip, taking out my handgun with the silencer and looking it over, "You'd think after years of going out and killing others that you'd become desensitized to feeling bad about something, but yet here I am."

"True, but you haven't yet answered my question" Stella says, taking a little sip of her drink.

"...I think I just want something else at the moment, something that won't elicit any romantic feelings. And I've already begun to delve into it because now I have a call girl that comes to visit me at least once or twice a week" I shrug, putting the gun away so that I don't accidentally hurt Stella.

"And you're sure you want that?" The Goetia matriarch asks, looking concerned.

"Yeah, I'm sure" I tell her, trying to smile a little bit, "But don't worry, though, it's a good enough change of pace to keep me at least halfway happy."

Just then, Octavia and Stolas walk in, apparently having wondered where we went.

"Uh, Mum? Y/N? What are you two doing in here?" Octavia asks in confusion.

"Just talking and keeping some of it away from the party so I don't spoil your special day" I admit, walking around the counter and putting an arm over her shoulders again, changing my tone to a more upbeat and cheerful one, "But don't you worry about any of that. What you do need to worry about is deciding who's present you're going to open first before I blatantly insist that you do mine."

"I was going to open yours first anyway, so the joke's on you" Octavia smirks, lightly elbowing me.

And though she seemingly held onto it upon first entering the dining room, Octavia must've put it down sometime since it's her father that hands it over to her, the wrapped box being in his hands before it's transferred over to Octavia's. And even though we're all just milling about in the kitchen, Octavia just opens it right there instead of suggesting that we all head back to the dining room, wrapping paper falling to the floor. But once she opens the box and looks inside, Octavia develops a whole new expression of shock and surprise. Since Stylish Occults deals in selling taxidermy, I got her one of an owl with its long feathered wings outstretched. It wasn't cheap either, being around $15,000, which is more than I typically make in a couple weeks, given how jobs are pretty out of the blue and not very routinely. Octavia then proceeds to thank me by hugging me harder than she ever has before and thanking me very profusely.

"How did you know I wanted that?" The owl girl asks, smiling wide.

"I paid attention," I reply, patting her head, "That and your parents were originally going to get it for you before I insisted that I get it. So, I saved up and bought it last week so that I'd have it for today."

"You're the best, Y/N. You really are the best," Octavia says, hugging me more. 

Smiling, I hug her back, enjoying the sense of making someone else happy, while Stolas and Stella watch us with joyful gazes, glad that their daughter is happy as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting on the edge of a tall apartment building with my legs lazily dangling over, I huff to myself and take a tiny break from looking through the scope of my sniper rifle. I'm set up here because the job I chose to take listed that the target likes to frequently visit the bar currently across the street from my location. And instead of trying to go inside and find him and potentially run into his friends or bodyguards that would wipe the floor with me, I settled for setting up my sniper rifle in a more unsuspecting position. The price on this dude's head was about 6k, which isn't that bad, and to be honest, the details regarding his location were the closest to where I was at anyway, so it seemed like the best choice.

This particular contract was/is an open contract, which means that the details get posted to a more specific area of the app where any and all assassins can see. It's a first come, first serve kind of deal where the first one to kill the target gets the reward instead of being specifically and selectively chosen for the job like other contracts. That combined with the lack of a time limit needed to complete the contract, it's practically open season on this guy I'm going for tonight. Open contracts can range in how much they pay for the elimination of the target, some rewards being like the 6k I'll be getting and others being in the tens of thousands. It all depends on the target. The higher society status of the target, the bigger the reward. That must place this asshole on the lower end of the food chain. Better than nothing, though, I guess.

But right now is the most painful part of the process: waiting. I haven't spotted the target yet, even though I've spent plenty of time already peering through the scope at the demons just inside the bar. And the details said that he likes staying at the bar between 8:00 and 11:00 P.M., the time now being 9:57 P.M. Luckily, even though it's now dark out, my scope has a night vision feature to it. Sighing and biting my lip to keep my impatience under control, I keep my mind busy with recapping how the rest of the party went.

The four of us went back into the dining room and each had a slice of cake before transitioning to Octavia opening up the rest of her gifts in the mansion living room. She was very thankful for what her parents got for her, and made sure to thank them too, but I could tell that she still held my gift in the highest regards. Once the gift opening concluded, Octavia and I went back to her room, Stolas and Stella asking the mansion servants to help bring her gifts up to her room while they went off to do their own thing to give us some time together. She thanked me again for the gift and we hung for a little longer until I had to go. Octavia was bummed that I was leaving, but she said that I was welcome back anytime I wanted. We hugged one more time and then I left the mansion, politely saying goodbye to the other two Goetia's on the way out. All in all, it was an enjoyable time that your average demon wouldn't get to experience, but somehow I still feel like I'm encroaching on Octavia and her family, even though I know I'm not and they know I'm not. Maybe it's just the self blame mechanism from my break up that hasn't fully faded away yet, I'm not really sure. 

Lifting the rifle back up, I peer through the scope at the front door of the bar across the street, watching intently. Demons exit and enter the place, but none match the picture of the target. That doesn't mean he isn't here or won't come, though. So, I keep watching, seconds and minutes ticking by that grow more painful as they keep counting off. And then, finally, the target himself comes walking out of the bar, making me swallow and track him with my rifle before pulling the trigger. The shot rings in the air and the target falls over dead from the fatal wound in his head, the other demon civilians around him jumping slightly in surprise. Just how I like to do it, quick and effective without the needless waste of ammunition. 

But I'm not done yet. Slinging the rifle over my shoulder, I stand up and look down from the roof of the 3-story building I'm on and jump down towards the street lamp on the street corner below. It's just high enough for me to grab it and slide down to the ground without the fall being too damaging. I then immediately cross the street and walk to where the now dead target is, the demons nearby scattering once they see me coming. They know better than to come between an assassin and his target, less they become one themselves if they piss off the wrong assassin. Kneeling down next to the body, I bring my phone out and take a picture, being sure to include the face and wound just so the employer knows that he's actually dead. I then open the app, find the target profile and send the pictures to the one who put the hit out. The person on the other side reponds much more quickly than I imagined he/she would, replying back with the promised payment and a good job/partial thanks.

Smiling at another job well done, I stand up and pocket my phone, deciding to pick up my payment at a later time. And after seeing the time just before I put my phone away, I also decide to just screw it and head for the bar entrance, thinking that a good non-alcoholic drink would be a good way to celebrate my personal victory.