Chapter Text
It was the same dream every night.
An empty alleyway, a mysterious locked door.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't reach it. But he had to reach it, he had to-
Mikey awoke with a start, gasping for breath. His eyes took their sweet time adjusting to the darkness, and he gradually relaxed bit by bit. The morning sun was just starting to slip through the cracks in the walls of the shed he called home. Mikey stretched with a yawn. "...Work time." He mumbled. "Up and at 'em, Klunk."
The cat-like Chainsaw Devil hopped off the mattress , weaving around Mikey's legs as he prepared for the day, checked his eyepatch to make sure it was on right, and left.
It was the same thing every single day. Mikey woke up, he and Klunk went to find their job for the day. Or, more accurately, whatever would make money. He owed a lot of money. He'd done everything from cutting down trees, sold his right eye and kidney among... other things, hell he'd even nearly eaten a cigarette for a hundred yen, but the thing he worked most in was-
Klunk suddenly stopped just in front of him with a hiss. Mikey followed the chainsaw cat's line of sight, noticing a giant red blob moving in the distance. Its numerous massive eyes surveyed the area as it patrolled the decimated buildings.
...Devil hunting.
"Whaddya think, Klunk?" Mikey stared at what he assumed must've been the Tomato Devil. Damn, that thing was ugly. And that was saying something, because pretty much every devil was ugly in its own special way. Klunk rubbed against his leg with a purr resembling a deep revving noise.
Present company excluded, of course.
"We can beat this thing, no prob, yeah?" Mikey smirked, baring his sharp teeth and sweeping his bangs back with the same old orange headband he'd worn for as long as he could remember. Klunk lept into his arms, allowing him to pull the ripcord making up his tail, and chainsaw on his head sprung to life with a loud whir. "Hell yeah! LET'S GO!"
"Sooo..." Mikey thumbed through the wad of cash. "That's 70,000 yen! But I need to pay bills, which leaves me with... uh..." He paused, going through the math in his head, then came to a conclusion with a groan. "Not a whole lot."
Klunk was stretched across his shoulders, purring like a motor and peering at the money like he could read it. Maybe he could. Mikey wasn't too sure.
"Sorry, bud. Looks like it's just bread tonight." Mikey sighed. "Again."
He really wished it wasn't again. Bread was good and all, but not for everything all of the time. But hey, who was he to complain? He had a great life! He was making it, he had a best friend, a cool job... and a crushing weight of a debt permanently on his shoulders. Every day he paid more money to the Foot, but nothing ever seemed to make a dent.
Sometimes, he hated his old man for leaving him to deal with this.
...No, how could he think about him that?
It wasn't Dad's fault.
But then, if he hadn't went and-
...
If Dad hadn't died, Mikey wouldn't be paying his debt he left behind. At least, not alone. He could have a normal life.
Klunk meowed really loudly next to Mikey's ear, causing him to jolt with a laugh. "Sorry, bud." At some point, he'd stopped walking in the middle of the street. Klunk meowed again, more insistent this time. "Okay, okay. Let's go rest."
Mikey tore off a tiny piece of bread for Klunk, then himself, back and forth. Same old dinner routine every night. Klunk purred contentedly, chainsaw head revving briefly as he ate his share of bread. Mikey grinned.
"You know what'd make this even better?" Mikey gave Klunk a pet behind the ears. "If we had jam. You know, some people eat bread with jam. Every. Morning. Can you imagine that?" Mikey hummed, taking another piece of bread. "I bet ol' Dogpound and Fishface can. They must do something with the money they get from me, huh?" Mikey frowned, mood briefly soured at the thought of his yakuza employers.
Why did they get to have all that? What had they done right? What had Mikey done wrong? What had Dad done wrong?
There was no use in thinking like that. Life was life, life sucked, but Klunk made it suck a little less. Simple as that.
Mikey shook off the negativity, though something seemed to be worming around in the back of his head. Wants, maybe. What he'd do if he got his shit together and got the debt paid off.
Maybe it was okay to think a little about that, though? Having dreams. But what to dream about, hmm.
Mikey laid down on the mattress, and Klunk repositioned to sit on his stomach. "Klunk, I think when we finally pay off this debt..." He thought for a second. Klunk's eyes fixed on him inquisitively, waiting for him to continue. "We can get our own place! Get out of this old shack! And we'll have jam, all the time. And maybe, a girlfriend...?" Mikey paused. Then snorted a laugh. "As if! I was kidding, pal. But we could make tons of friends, and have parties! Pizza parties. Wouldn't that be the best?"
Klunk didn't say anything, but Mikey got the feeling he understood. "Don't worry, you're always gonna be my best pizza-eating friend, no matter what." Mikey closed his eyes with a smile. "Night, Klunk."
He was at his dad's grave, sobbing uncontrollably. The tranquil silence and beautiful green grass was cut through by the rumble of a car approaching, and Mikey sniffed, turning to look back. The car door slammed, and two men stepped out.
"He was your pops?" The smaller one, with an afro and a torn up vest, asked. Mikey nodded, unable to speak. "We heard about what happened."
"Dead or not, he owes money." The other man, who was tall and muscly, stepped forwards towards Mikey. "You know who we are?"
Mikey shook his head.
"We're with the Foot. The yakuza. And your old man was killed before he could pay off his debt. You're the last member of your family?"
"Mhm." Mikey mumbled. He didn't like these guys much. Something about them was making warning signs flare in his mind, but...
"700,000 yen by tomorrow, or you're good as dead." The man stated plainly. "Let's go, Xever. Leave the kid to mourn."
Mikey watched blankly as the car pulled away, fading into the distant sea of endless grass. Then, the realization hit, and he let out a soft sob, pressing his head against the tombstone.
"No... that's impossible!" He whimpered. "They're gonna kill me!"
The grass rustled just to his right and he turned his head slightly to see what it was now. More debt?
No, a... what was that?
Some kind of orange cat thing with a chainsaw mounted on its head stopped in its tracks, hissing loudly. The cord making up its tail lashed around as it backed away.
A Devil.
Of course. Like his life couldn't be more over.
"Just kill me!" Mikey cried. "Come on! I know you want to! I'm dead meat anyways, so just get it over with!"
The Devil hissed again, and then Mikey noticed how off it seemed. It wasn't mad, it was scared.
Because it was hurt. Blood stained its belly, and it collapsed with a growl. In seconds, Mikey's heart ached with sympathy. "Poor guy." He mumbled. He moved a little closer to the Devil, which glared weakly at him. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you. It's okay. Actually..." Mikey held out a hand. "I can help. Devils heal if they drink blood, right? You can have some of mine if you want."
The Devil sniffed, eyes widening. Then it bit, sinking razor-like teeth deep into Mikey's arm. He bit down on his tongue to keep himself from yelling, new tears pricking at his already wet eyes. "There you go." The Devil already seemed to be healing, to his relief. "But you need to help me too." The Devil released Mikey's hand, staring up at him. "I want to make a contract with you. I saved your life, you're gonna help me pay off my debt to save mine. You in?" The Devil not running away was a pretty good sign, Mikey thought. He grinned. "Great! We're friends now."
Maybe he didn't want to die after all.
Mikey opened his eyes to a squint in the dark room. In his sleep, he'd curled around Klunk, who was still out and purring slightly. Honestly, Mikey was a little jealous. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept through the night.
A sudden knock on the door startled Klunk, who jumped up with a hiss. Mikey pulled himself into a sitting position with a groan. Really? In the middle of the night? Who the hell...
"Hey! Get up!" Fishface's voice was muffled but still recognizable. "We've got work for you, kid!"
"Fine, fine..." Mikey rubbed his eyes. "I'm coming, okay? Hold up, I just have to-" The second he stood up, he shuddered, then began to cough, covering it with his arm. He pulled it away to find spatters of blood covering his skin, and he could feel it dribbling down his chin as well. "Oh, hell."
Klunk was on his shoulders in a second, mewing in concern. Mikey gave him a pat. "I-I'm okay, Klunk. Just..." He spit some blood onto the floor, trying to rid his mouth of the metallic taste. "...Sick, I think. But it doesn't matter. It's fine."
"HURRY UP!" Fishface yelled, and his angry voice was backed up by what sounded like a kick to the wall. Mikey took a breath, wiped the remaining blood from his face, and left for whatever mission he was being sent on now.
"There's a Devil somewhere in this warehouse." Dogpound explained, leading the way through the abandoned aisles.
"And you want me to kill it?" Mikey guessed. Klunk was in his arms, at the ready if the Devil decided to ambush them. He hoped, secretly, maybe it'd kill these guys. Then he'd be out of debt, easy-peasy, right? It was a nice thought, but he wasn't that lucky. And these guys weren't all bad. Seeing the good in almost everyone was one of Mikey's natural talents.
"Of course." Fishface replied from somewhere behind. "That's why we hired you as a Devil hunter. You do what's needed, what the real deal wouldn't dare to."
"Speaking of which..." Dogpound began, still navigating the warehouse. "We're very, very grateful for your service."
"Oh. Thanks!" Mikey smiled a little. "That's the nicest thing you guys have ever-"
"You're obedient." He went on. "You don't ask questions. You don't take much in return. However, everyone has to move to greener pastures sometime."
"Mhm?" Mikey was starting to get a weird feeling about all this. How many times had they crossed through this aisle? Where were they going?
"Which is why we're sorry to say, you're fired." Fishface stated plainly.
"What?" Mikey stopped. The words felt like a stab to the gut. Fired? How could he be-
Why did this hurt him so much?
What the hell was soaking through his shirt?
Mikey looked down.
And for a second, he didn't register exactly what was happening.
Just that there was a knife going through him and Klunk.
A
A knife
Stabbed-
BLOOD-
Mikey turned around, wide-eyed, just in time for Fishface to pull the knife out of the wound, leaving a gaping hole in his chest. He kicked Mikey and Klunk to the ground, and Mikey cried out, losing his grip on Klunk.
"You see, we've got a new employer now." Dogpound turned, staring down at Mikey with obvious disdain. "Better pay. Greener pastures." Something was on his back, pulling him and Fishface up into the air.
"AND IF THERE'S ONE THING I HATE, IT'S DEVIL HUNTERS!" A voice boomed from the darkness. A gigantic grotesque face loomed out of the darkness, tentacles extended outwards and every which way. "THESE POOR FOOLS WANTED MORE, AND GAVE ME THEIR LIVES FOR IT." Mikey squinted into the dark. He could make out the faint outlines of hordes of people approaching. One stepped into the light, revealing a twisted rotting corpse barely shambling along. "SO NOW, I, THE ZOMBIE DEVIL, WILL CLAIM YOU TOO!"
All at once, the zombies took off, charging down the aisle with a chorus of groaning and growling. Mikey gasped, scrambling to his feet and scooping Klunk into his arms.
Zombies. Like this couldn't get worse.
"Come on." Mikey urged himself to run, but the best he could manage, being run through and all, was a quick stumble. He flung a shelf down into the path, forcing the zombies to scale it.
"Come on." He couldn't die here. He still had so much to live for! Like Klunk, and friends, and pizza!
"Come on!" The exit sign was right there. If he could just make it out there, he could take Dogpound's car and get to a hospital, or anything. He could give Klunk some blood, and everything would be okay. Everything would be okay. Everything would be okay.
The steel bar connected hard with Mikey's back, knocking him to the ground and opening an ugly red gash. He curled over Klunk to protect him.
He was so close. If he just crawled for his life he could make it everything would be oka
A butcher knife plunged through his hand, pinning it to the floor, and Mikey screamed.
Another hit.
Another hit.
Another hit.
Why?
He'd done so good.
He'd done everything.
What had he done wrong?
What was wrong with him?
Why wasn't he good enough?
As he screamed and cried and begged for mercy and bled out and was chopped to pieces and eventually stopped moving and breathing altogether, Mikey realized that
he didn't know
.
A soft light.
A voice?
Mikey struggled to open his eyes, but when he did, he was met with Klunk.
Mikey sighed in relief, tears welling up. "Oh, thank god. It was just a nightmare."
"No, no it was not." Klunk meowed.
Mikey yelped. "You can talk?!"
"In your mind, yes." Klunk tilted his head. "I want to make a contract."
"Wait, so... I'm dead?" The realization hit Mikey like a brick. "We're... dead...?"
"I want to make a contract." Klunk repeated. "I will give you my heart, and you will show me everything we've ever wanted." He laid his chin over Mikey's chest.
"What? What does that mean?" Mikey asked. "Klunk, please, what is happening-"
"Live a good life, Mikey." Klunk closed his eyes, and everything went dark.
Mikey awoke with a gasp, trying to suck as much air into his lungs as he could. His heart raced with an unnatural speed as his body struggled to readjust to the feeling of being alive again. There was something above his head, and he pushed against it.
He was in a dumpster.
Filled with body parts.
Mikey gagged, forcing himself out of the dumpster and onto the pavement before he could hurl. "Klunk? Come on."
"Klunk?"
Mikey peeked back over the dumpster edge.
Klunk wasn't there at all.
"I will give you my heart..." Mikey's brain quoted, and his eyes widened. On his chest was a cord, just like Klunk's tail.
Oh.
"Thank you." Mikey whispered, placing his hand on the cord.
Anger was starting to bubble in his heart. How could those assholes just do that? Stab him in the back?
He was going to find them.
Mikey burst back into the warehouse. "ZOMBIE DEVIL!" He shouted into the darkness. "I'm back for your ugly ass!"
The eyes fixed on him, and the Zombie Devil loomed out of the darkness once again. "WHAT?! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD!"
"I got better!" Mikey yelled back. Rage was beginning to run like lava in his veins, increasing more as he noticed the zombies approaching from the shadows on every side. People like him, who had just wanted more to their life. Maybe if he hadn't wanted so much, Klunk would still be alive.
Klunk.
A growl began to build in Mikey's throat.
Dogpound and Fishface had good lives, but they still needed more. Mikey hadn't had shit. And they still bled him dry and killed him when he wasn't useful anymore.
"I will make you pay!" Mikey screamed, reaching for the cord instinctively. "I'LL KILL YOU ALL!"
He pulled the cord as hard as he could, and the zombies piled onto him, plunging him into darkness.
Then, white-hot searing pain exploded from his arms, his head, his heart.
With a shrieking whir, the zombies were flung away and sliced into piles of bloody limbs. Mikey hissed out a steaming breath, suddenly aware of everything. Chainsaws had sprouted from his arms and head, and the spinning blades were slick with blood. The Zombie Devil exclaimed in shock, and Mikey launched from the pile, whizzing through the air like a bullet and sinking his arms into its eye.
He relished the screams.
The pain.
The revenge.
He was shaken from the head and skidded across the floor, leaving bloody streaks where he landed. The Devil was shrieking at him, warnings, bargains, pleas, but he didn't care to listen.
It sure hadn't.
Mikey advanced again, slicing through projectile zombies like paper. Scaling a tentacle, soaring through the air towards Zombie's one remaining eye. It screamed.
"THIS IS FOR KLUNK!" Mikey shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice coming out unfamiliar and metallic, and plunged his spinning chainsaw head into the Devil. He sliced clean through in an explosion of blood and flesh, landing on the floor in a pile of dripping guts.
The zombies seemed hesitant now, lingering just on the outside of the puddle of gore.
"COWARDS!" Mikey hissed, whipping around to face them. They hadn't gone back to normal. It was unlikely they ever would. So he didn't feel much guilt cutting through hordes of them. He especially didn't feel guilt dismembering the everloving fuck out of Dogpound and Fishface.
It took ages, but the sun was coming up, and all the zombies were dead.
Mikey was all that remained, gasping for air to fill his lungs as he stood amidst the carnage he had caused. It made him feel...
...good.
Movement caught his eye, and he turned around. More zombies? He could do this all day. For the rest of his life, maybe.
As long as he was avenging Klunk.
But it wasn't a zombie, who approached. Just a girl in a suit, with a ponytail of orange-red-pink hair, stepping over the bodies.
Mikey wasn't sure what it was about her, but something inside him uncoiled. The rage, maybe. Whatever it was, he was suddenly just exhausted, and overwhelmed with grief.
"Hi." He slurred, wobbling on his feet.
Then, he crumbled.
The girl rushed forwards just in time to catch him, wrapping her arms around him in a sort of hug. Mikey relaxed instantly, and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling as the chainsaws and metal melted away, leaving him as just a bloody tired mess. As everything that had just happened fully kicked in, he started to cry a bit. The girl lowered him to the ground. Didn't stop him from face planting almost immediately, though.
"You're a Fiend." She stated matter-of-factly, studying him with obvious curiosity. "Chainsaw. You have two options."
"Hmm." Mikey mumbled, face in the pavement.
"One, I can kill you like a Devil. Or..." The girl paused. "Two, you can join like a human."
Mikey turned enough to look at her. "...Not dying sounds good right now."
"That's what I thought." The girl reached a hand out to him, helping him stand. "We'll get you clothes, a bed..."
"Food?" Mikey asked. He was starving too, which just made his exhaustion worse.
"Of course." The girl nodded.
"Pizza?" Mikey blurted out suddenly.
The girl gave him a look, then burst into laughter. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."
"Wow." Mikey smiled, sharp teeth flashing. He was fully aware of how stupid he probably looked right then, shirtless and drenched in blood and grinning like a maniac, but who really cared? A proper place to stay, at least for a bit? Maybe his life was going to look up.
"Well, come on." The girl pulled him along through the warehouse, towards the sunlight.
Mikey put his free hand over the cord on his chest. "Klunk..." He muttered under his breath with a soft sigh. "I'm going to show you my dream now. I'm going to live a great life for the both of us."
He might've imagined it, but his heart seemed to revv up in gleeful response.