Striker clutches his monogramed cellphone: nearly cracking the case. It had been months since the harvest moon festival and the botched assassination attempt.
A guttural growl scratches at the back of his throat, as he thought about the last time he ran into IMP. He needed to see him, to convince him that their partnership was absolute
That Blitzo was just chasing dreams.
He needed to wake him up, open his eyes to the hell around him.
Blitzo’s phone number stared back at him, in bold black letters. It would be too risky to leave a voicemail.
But he needed insurance: and those two leeches, he calls employees would suffice The cowboy would have fun, torturing them before ending their Miserable lives.
He’d read about, the catastrophe that was the illustrious House of Ausmodeous. Not doubt, Blitzo was hurting: and licking his wounds.
In the end, he caved dialing that familiar number. He thought about hanging up once or twice.
But he was glad he didn’t. He could hear, the imp pick up. Blitzo took a shuddering breath.
“Who--who is this?” he asks. the cowboy grits his teeth, suppressing an irritable hiss and hating the brokenness in Blitzo’s voice.
Blitzo’s heart freezes in his chest, it felt like his heart was beating out of his chest.
“How did you get this number?” he demands.
“Ride or Die Blitzy, side with me and together will unite hell- underneath an imp pantheon
“That rich pompous ass, is living on borrowed time, stringing you along darlin” “I don’t want to talk about-” he couldn’t even say his name.
“He hurt ya bad, didn’t he sugar-cube?, lets start with him and work our way up the ladder, after I put a bullet in his head, there will be nothing stopping us from pursuing the throne”
“Striker its late- I was wondering-
“if you want to pick this up in the morning?” Striker finished.
Blitzo looks around, his eyes sore from crying. He took another shuddering breath realizing he didn’t want to be alone tonight and if Striker was offering a partnership- if that partnership was still on the table then he wouldn’t be so lonely.
What could one little night hurt, after all- his own family had left him alone tonight. Loona was gone and Moxie and Millie were to involved with one another to come check on him.
“Actually Striker, I was wondering if you could pick me up, I don’t feel like driving anywhere tonight-and I don’t want to be alone” he admitted. Striker’s eyes widened he was halfway out the door, whistling for his stead.
“I’m on my way Blitzy”