Hell's living soul

Cold Open – Earth, Unnamed Midwestern American City, 11:47 PM

Rain poured down in relentless sheets, turning the alley behind the old warehouse district into a river of filth and shattered glass. Sirens wailed in the distance—fire trucks, ambulances, police—responding to the multi-car pileup on the interstate overpass just two blocks away. Twisted metal, broken lives. One of those lives now huddled behind a dumpster.

Bailey Dillon, ten years old, clutched his knees to his chest. His left arm hung at a painful angle, clearly broken from the impact when their family SUV had been sideswiped and sent spinning. Blood mixed with rainwater on his forehead. His favorite Spider-Man hoodie was torn and soaked. He hadn’t spoken since the crash. Not when the paramedics tried to reach him. Not when he’d crawled out the shattered window while adults screamed and sirens blared. He just ran. Ran until his legs gave out in this stinking alley.

“M-Mom… Dad… Emma…” he whispered, voice cracking. His little sister’s laugh echoed in his head, then the screech of tires, the crunch of metal. He pressed his face into his knees and sobbed harder, body shaking. The pain in his arm was nothing compared to the emptiness ripping through his chest. He was alone. Completely alone.

He didn’t hear the faint whoosh of a portal opening at the alley’s far end.

Scene 1 – I.M.P. On the Job

Millie wiped demon ichor from her axe with a satisfied hum. The target—a sleazy human accountant who’d sold his soul for stock tips—lay in pieces behind a shipping container. “Well, that was easier than expected, sugar! Mox, you see that spin I did on the decapitation?”

Moxxie adjusted his crossbow, looking mildly nauseous. “Yes, dear, very… acrobatic. Though I still think we should have used the tranq darts first. Blitzo’s going to complain about the mess on the paperwork again.”

Blitzo was already halfway back through the grimoire portal, phone in hand, arguing with Loona about pickup. “Yeah, yeah, we’re wrapping up. Tell the client his ex-boss is extra dead. Loona, baby, you better not be scrolling Insta while we’re— LOONA!”

The portal flickered and closed behind Blitzo, leaving Millie and Moxxie alone for cleanup.

Millie stretched, her tail flicking happily. “Aw, honey, it’s a beautiful night for a little extra walk. Smell that rain? Reminds me of home after a good flash flood.”

Moxxie sighed but smiled softly at his wife. “Fine. But we stay in the shadows. Humans are twitchy about imps.”

They moved quietly along the alley, Millie humming a cheerful imp folk tune while Moxxie scanned for witnesses. That was when Millie’s ear twitched.

A sound. Small. Broken.

Crying.

Her red eyes narrowed, then widened. She held up a hand. “Mox… you hear that?”

Moxxie froze. “It could be a trap. Or a stray cat. Or—”

But Millie was already moving, axe lowered but ready. Her instincts—those same ones that protected her family back in Wrath—pulled her toward the dumpster. The crying grew clearer. Human. Young.

She rounded the corner and stopped dead.

There, curled into a shivering ball, was a human boy no older than ten. Pale face streaked with tears, blood, and dirt. One arm obviously broken. Eyes squeezed shut as if wishing the world away.

“Oh… sweet Satan,” Millie breathed. The axe slipped from her fingers and clattered to the wet pavement.

Scene 2 – First Contact

Bailey’s eyes snapped open at the noise. He scrambled back against the brick wall, whimpering in pain as his broken arm jostled. Two… things… stood there. Red skin, horns, tails. Not human. Not anything he’d seen outside nightmares or cartoons.

“Stay back!” he tried to yell, but it came out a hoarse sob. “Please… don’t hurt me…”

Millie’s heart shattered. She dropped to one knee immediately, ignoring the puddles soaking her shorts. Her voice turned soft, the same tone she used with her nieces and nephews back home. “Hey there, lil’ darlin’. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Name’s Millie. This here’s my husband Moxxie. We’re… uh… not from around here.”

Moxxie hovered behind her, crossbow pointed at the ground, eyes wide with panic. “Millie, we can’t— Blitzo said no civilians— this is a child— human child—”

“Hush, Mox,” she whispered fiercely, then turned back to Bailey with a gentle smile. “You look like you’ve been through Hell and back, sugar. What happened? Can you tell me?”

Bailey stared, trembling. These monsters hadn’t attacked. The lady sounded… kind. Like his mom when he had nightmares. Fresh tears spilled over. “C-car crash… on the big road. Mom and Dad and Emma… they… they didn’t get out. I ran. My arm hurts real bad. Everything hurts.”

Millie’s eyes glistened. She reached out slowly, palm up, no sudden moves. “Oh, baby… I’m so sorry. That’s awful. Real awful.” She glanced at Moxxie. “We can’t leave him here like this.”

Moxxie knelt too, keeping a respectful distance. His voice was shaky but gentle. “Hello, Bailey—is that your name? I heard you say it. I’m Moxxie. We’re imps. From Hell, technically. But we’re not here to drag anyone back. Not tonight.” He pulled a relatively clean handkerchief from his coat and offered it. “You’re safe with us right now. Promise.”

Bailey hesitated, then took the cloth with his good hand and pressed it to his bleeding forehead. The kindness broke the last of his walls. He lunged forward and buried his face in Millie’s shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.

Millie wrapped her arms around him carefully, avoiding the broken arm. “Shhh, I gotcha. I gotcha, lil’ one.” She rocked him like a mother, humming the same lullaby her own ma used to sing after rough days on the farm. Moxxie watched, his usual anxiety melting into quiet sorrow. He gently examined the boy’s arm from a distance.

“Compound fracture,” he murmured. “We need supplies. Or… Stolas?”

Scene 3 – Decision Point

Millie kept holding Bailey while Moxxie paced, calling Blitzo on the company phone. The boy had cried himself into exhausted hiccups against her chest.

“Boss, we got a situation,” Moxxie whispered urgently. “Human kid. Ten years old. Family died in a crash. He’s hurt bad. Millie won’t leave him.”

Blitzo’s voice crackled through. “Are you fucking kidding me?! We are NOT running an orphanage! Leave him for the human cops or whatever— wait, is he cute? Never mind, don’t answer that. Just— fuck. Fine. Bring him through. But if he pisses on the van seats, you’re cleaning it!”

Moxxie hung up and sighed. “We’re taking him back. Temporarily.”

Millie nodded, stroking Bailey’s damp hair. “Hear that, darlin’? We’re gonna get that arm fixed up. Maybe some hot cocoa. You like cocoa?”

Bailey nodded weakly. “With marshmallows?”

“Extra marshmallows,” she promised.

Moxxie opened a new portal with the grimoire, keeping it small and hidden. Millie carried Bailey through first, shielding his eyes from the sudden shift in reality. The shift from cold rainy alley to the chaotic warmth of I.M.P. headquarters hit like a fever dream.

Scene 4 – Welcome to Hell (Sort Of)

Loona looked up from her phone as they emerged. “What the— is that a human puppy?”

Bailey stared around the office in wide-eyed terror: the weapons on the walls, the screaming goat poster, the giant “I.M.P.” logo. Blitzo burst in from the back room, arms full of random medical supplies he definitely stole from somewhere.

“Alright, team! Emergency adoption— I mean, temporary medical hold! Kid, you puke on my carpet and I’m billing your ghost.”

But even Blitzo’s bluster softened when he saw how small and broken Bailey looked in Millie’s arms. The imp scratched the back of his head. “Shit… rough night, huh, squirt?”

Moxxie set up a makeshift cot while Millie cleaned the boy’s wounds with surprising tenderness. Loona, pretending not to care, brought over a blanket and her own oversized headphones. “Here. Block out the idiots.”

As the painkillers (mild demonic ones) kicked in, Bailey looked up at the strange group surrounding him. “Are you… gonna eat me?”

Millie laughed softly. “Nah, sugar. We only eat bad humans. You’re one of the good ones.”

Moxxie sat beside the cot, offering a small, warm mug of cocoa he’d somehow conjured. “We’ll figure this out. Maybe find distant relatives on the surface. Or… well, Hell’s got room for lost souls who didn’t deserve it.”

Blitzo leaned in the doorway, watching with an unreadable expression. For a moment, his own memories of being a lost kid surfaced. He shook it off. “Welcome to I.M.P., Bailey Dillon. Try not to die. We suck at funerals.”

Scene 5 – Quiet Aftermath (Extended)

Hours later, the office lights dimmed. Bailey slept fitfully on the cot, bandaged and wrapped in blankets. Millie sat beside him, humming. Moxxie leaned against her shoulder.

“You did good finding him,” Moxxie whispered.

“Couldn’t leave him,” she replied. “Reminded me of my baby cousins after that barn fire. No kid should lose everything in one night.”

Loona, from her desk, muttered, “Yeah… sucks being alone at that age.”

Blitzo watched from the hallway, silent for once. Outside, the red skies of Hell churned. A new, tiny human soul had slipped into their chaotic world—whether by accident or some cruel cosmic joke.

To Be Continued…