Into the Vanessaverse

Time didn’t matter much to Vanessa, typically. As a witch living in a manor separate from all space and time, having a set schedule was impossible. Yet despite all evidence to the contrary, she seemed to be keeping track of when a certain date was-much to her ward Agent’s confusion.

She seemed to be arbitrarily marking down random days on a singular calendar page, when he finally spoke up. “What’s all this about?” he asked, curious.

“Ah, this?” Vanessa asked. She stepped back to allow Agent to see what she was doing. Several disconnected days were crossed out with an X, sometimes in reverse order. Some were still blank. But one day had a firm circle around it. June the sixth, to be precise.

Vanessa shrugged. “Doctor’s appointment,” she explained. “I’ve been a few eons out of date for one, I suppose. And it takes forever to get an appointment for my usual provider.”

“I…didn’t realize you needed to go to the doctor’s,” Agent remarked. “Plus, you know…with your physiology…”

“Yes, well, I need a specialist,” Vanessa explained. “Someone trained to examine unusual entities such as myself without copping a feel. And I don’t trust X’charthan the Ever-Cleric to do it.”

“Right,” Agent said, cautiously taking a sip from his soda to avoid acknowledging that he has no idea what she was talking about. “Where is this specialist, exactly?”

“Hell,” Vanessa idly explained.

Agent suddenly spat out his soda in modest shock, coughing a little from the effort. He tried to regain his composure, with Vanessa patting his back to assist.

“Easy now, darling,” she said. “Relax, it’s just a place.”

“You’re talking about the human afterlife like it’s the next town over,” Agent sputtered, trying to make sense of all of it. Vanessa seemed confused for different reasons.

“Oh, you’re talking about how good people go to heaven and the bad people go to hell?” she asked. Agent nodded, and she nodded back. “Ah yeah, that’s totally a scam. Anyway, I’m about due to head out to it, so if you want to come along-“

“Can we back up to that last statement?” Agent protested. Vanessa merely waved him off.

“I’m running late,” she said, ignoring all precedent she repeatedly established. “And I don’t have time to schedule a sitter, so you should come with me.”

“To hell,” Agent said. He had slipped past shock and incredulity and into the third phase of his usual dealings with Vanessa: resigned acceptance. He sighed. “Fine, if I’m just visiting.”

“Trust me, you’re fine,” Vanessa said. “Besides, you’re not due for another seventeen years.”

Agent blinked at the statement. “Wait, what-“

…

It wasn’t long before a portal formed for the duo to pass through, Agent somehow tripping on the rim, and Vanessa casually gliding through. Agent slowly picked himself up from the asphalt to look at the new destination, vastly confused.

It looked like some kind of city, albeit one with an ever-thriving nightlife and a perpetually red twilight sky. The buildings tended to advertise various vices-strip clubs, gambling spots, and murder-for-hire services. Less fire than he was expecting, Agent noted, though that might be in the outskirts. He did smell brimstone, and his nostrils felt like they were on fire.

Vanessa inhaled deeply, then sighed happily. “Fresh air,” she said. “Come on, let’s go. The doctor’s office is nearby.”

“A-alright…” Agent agreed. He clung to Vanessa’s arm, much to the witch’s bemusement, as the two strolled down the street. He looked around at the passerby; most citizens of this segment of Hell were imps, with red skin and various heights. There were other species, however, such as more canine-esque bipedal creatures, and more humanesque creatures that were a cross between the imps and the living.

“Damned souls,” Vanessa idly explained. “Sinners who died doing whatever and got in trouble with whatever’s calling the shots for them.” She shrugged. “Can’t say I’m thrilled with the criteria of what counts as a sin.”

“How big is this place?” Agent asked. The sheer scope of the city overwhelmed him already, dizzy from the buildings’ height. It was like New York, but with less litter.

“This is only just one of the rings,” Vanessa said. “Pride, specifically. There’s also Gluttony, Lust, Going Through an Express Lane At The Supermarket With a Full Shopping Cart…”

“I don’t think that’s a real sin,” Agent interjected.

“They started using the platform as a soapbox,” Vanessa said. “Ah, here we are.”

She passed through a dark alley, the increasingly-nervous Agent in tow. They were approaching a nondescript door in the side, barely lit up by a flickering lightbulb. Agent looked to Vanessa in concern.

“This looks like a crack house,” he stated, matter-of-factly. “You’re sure this is the doctor’s office?”

“I’ve been working on getting him a better office in my manor,” Vanessa explained. “We’ve certainly been growing our little home, and he’d make a fine addition to it.”

“Great,” Agent sighed. He remained steady as Vanessa knocked on the practice’s door. Then she waited.

Eventually it creaked open, revealing the building’s occupant. It was a rather tall imp like the ones outside, wearing a torn doctor’s cloak and clutching a clipboard. One half of his face was lit up, showing a rather content grin. The other half, however, and by extension the rest of his body, was enveloped in darkness, even when under the faint light’s glow. As though he were corrupted somehow. He glanced at the witch, giving a wider smile.

“Ah, Miss Dementa, right on schedule,” he said, giving a courteous bow. “Enchanté, my dear.”

“Doctor Skald, always a pleasure,” Vanessa greeted with a small curtsy. “Thank you for allowing me to schedule with you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” the imp, Dr. Skald, gently took Vanessa’s hand, offering a small kiss on the back, which the witch allowed. He looked up at the timid nerd next to her. “Ah, and this must be Mr. Eckswhy, is it? She’s spoken of you at great lengths, I must say. All good things, I can assure you.”

“She did?” Agent asked with surprise. More to the point: “The way you spoke before, you acted like this was your first time meeting him,” he asked Vanessa.

“Oh, goodness, no,” Vanessa said with a laugh and a wave. “We knew each other for ages. It’s just the first time I’ve actually used his services on a professional matter.”

“Alright,” Agent nodded, considering the implications. “And on less professional matters?”

“We’re getting off the subject, I’m afraid,” Dr. Skald said gently. “Now then, Miss Dementa, if you could please step inside…”

“Certainly,” Vanessa agreed. She moved her arm away from Vanessa, leaving him with nothing to grasp in support. The sudden lack of comfort served to confuse and disorient Agent, and he looked to the doctor and witch in concern.

“Ah, there’s a waiting room, right?” he asked. “Somewhere I can hang out for a little while?”

“I’m afraid there’s very little room,” Dr. Skald explained, looking legitimately apologetic. “My office is almost entirely centered around the clinic itself. Budgeting, you understand. That may change when she establishes a branch at her manor, but for now, I’m rather limited.”

“But-“

“It’ll be fine, Agent,” Vanessa said with a smile. “Just go ahead and wander for a little, enjoy the sights. I’ll catch up.”

Agent shot Vanessa a blank glance. “Enjoy Hell,” he said, flatly.

“That’s the spirit,” Vanessa encouraged. “Now, do have fun, darling. And try not to have TOO much fun.”

She laughed, as the door closed behind her. Agent was left in the dark, staring at the door in mild concern. He looked around, rapidly, any little noise concerning him entirely.

“Okay, that’s fine…” Agent said, to himself. “That’s fine…Just gotta find some familiar territory…”

…

One of the first things Dr. Skald had instructed Vanessa to do is to disrobe-easier said than done. The witch was particularly attached to her usual attire, quite literally, and it took several minutes for them to remove the flowing dress. The end result was Vanessa being left in her underwear and bra, perfect for a full-body examination.

“Just to clarify, I came in without these,” Vanessa helpfully added, gesturing to the panties.

Dr. Skald shook his head in minor disbelief, before moving on. He fiddled with one of his devices, a common stethoscope, which he attached to his ears. “First, I’d like to get a heartbeat,” he explained. “To ensure there are no irregularities.”

Vanessa whistled, amused. “Darling, you’re going to find nothing but irregularities today.”

“R-right,” Dr. Skald nodded. He put the stethoscope’s metal end atop Vanessa’s chest, just above her cleavage mark. As always, he heard a rhythmic pulsating noise, a gentle “thump-thump” of her heart. He nodded in understanding…before he heard a second thumping pattern in a different pace. And a third, equally different rhythm. All simultaneously.

“…You’re telling me you have three hearts?” Dr. Skald asked, incredulously. “Modern physiology doesn’t usually allow for-“

He paused when there was a sudden jerking motion against the stethoscope, the earbuds yanked away from his head. The metal bit had drifted towards her cleavage…and the device started to sink into the crevice. The doctor could only watch as his equipment slowly sank into Vanessa’s boobs like quicksand, slurped up and out of sight.

Eventually he raised his head to look at Vanessa, who shrugged. “That happens sometimes,” is all she said.

Dr. Skald gently rested his hand against his chin with a small “hmm” sound. “This might be more challenging than I thought,” he noted.

…

Fortunately for Agent, even in Hell, there was a Starbucks. He appreciated the familiar territory as he walked in, already fiddling with his wallet. There was a small line ahead of him, and he did receive some confused stares from those that were no longer living-but he tuned it out, instead waiting for his drink.

There was no frozen option, naturally. He settled for a mocha, steaming, with a few teaspoons of cream and a rather unhealthy amount of sugar to offset the usual bitterness that goes into creating coffee. In fact, it was more sugar than coffee, but it kept him sane and awake. He could smell the aroma, and how delicious it was. So, he realized, there were some perks to the afterlife.

He sat down to enjoy a drink, as the other patrons continued their activities. Milling about, chatting with each other, plotting a heist. The usual activities for a coffee shop. He wasn’t comfortable yet, nor would he be. He was, however, content to be in a safe area.

The door opened eventually, and two newcomers came inside. He glanced up briefly, seeing a pair of young adults come inside. One was a hellhound with grey fur and a sour disposition. The other appeared to be some sort of owl-like creature, equally as brooding. The two seemed to be engrossed with each others company, chatting away as post-teenagers often do. Agent shouldn’t have stared, he knew, but there was something…different about them. An air of…violence.

He took another sip, trying to block it out. He felt the sensation of being watched once more, and not just from being around a cosmic entity either. Something told him this was more dangerous. As though an apex predator was stalking him. It was the hellhound, he knew it without turning around. He didn’t WANT to turn around, for fear of provoking her further.

“Hey.”

Agent sipped his drink again, trying to act casual even as he was sweating buckets. It was definitely directed at him. Did he really stand out so much as to cause a ruckus? Of course he did; he was the only being in hell that was technically alive right now. How could he not be noticed?

His feeble attempts at playing dead, so to speak, were interrupted by a firm clamping of fangs on his shoulder. He gasped out loud, as was suddenly dragged out of his chair. The hellhound whipped him around launching him to the ground. He collapsed briefly, scrambling from a prone state to all fours, back to the ground as he looked up. His shoulder burned slightly, still feeling from the fang-marks. The hellhound stood above him, glaring at him. The owl was on her cell phone, either texting or recording the whole sorry display. None of the patrons really looked up at the scene, either, so used to a daily dose of carnage that this seemed tame by comparison.

“Mind telling me how a human found his way down here?” the hellhound demanded.

“I-It’s a long story…” Agent said, nervous. His skin crawled, hair on end. This was someone who could and would kill. “I’m just a visitor with my friend Vanessa, is all.”

The hellhound stopped, her claws retracting. She seemed confused. “Hang on,” she said. “You mean Aunt Vanessa?”

“‘Aunt’ Vanessa?” Agent asked, even more confused. No doubt they were both thinking of the same witch. But just what sort of history did she have? He was left wondering this very question as the hellhound clutched his wounded shoulder, yanking him up and nearly dislocating his socket.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” she said. She performed a half-assed dusting on his clothes. “Guess she did mention some dork once or twice. I’m Loona, by the way.”

“Octavia,” the owl said, not looking up from her phone.

“I’m Agent,” Agent said. He clutched his shoulder still, aching even more. No blood was pouring out, though; a welcome relief. “So how do you know Vanessa?”

“Ugh,” Loona scoffed. “My dad goes after her every year. She keeps putting contracts on herself, like a game between them.”

He was right to fear her, evidently. The word “contract” in this instance could only imply the fact that she was the daughter of professional assassins. This also seemed like exactly the sort of nonsense Vanessa would pull, he admitted to himself. “Sounds about right,” he said. “Does she win?”

“Sometimes,” Loona said. “Other times Dad put her down. He gets paid either way, we don’t give a shit.” She shrugged. “Then she comes over to hang out and share fashion tips, and how to shank an asshole in the back using a spoon. She got me this top.” She gestured to the very clothing she wore, torn up and befitting of a gothic lifestyle.

“Certainly very colorful,” Agent nodded. And he wasn’t talking about the blouse.

“Yeah, but she’s cool,” Loona said. “So I guess you’re cool too.”

Agent blushed a little at the compliment. “T-thank you,” he said, appreciative. If nothing else, he was now in their good graces, so he wouldn’t be dying anytime soon. “Anyway, I’m just seeing the sights while she’s getting a checkup, is all.”

“I guess you can come with,” Octavia added, finally putting away her phone. “We can show you the best places to fuck shit up.”

Loona inspected Agent cautiously, and the nerd started sweating again. “You’ve got a valid ID, right?” she asked.

…

Dr. Skald was rapidly learning that he had absolutely no idea how to handle Vanessa. He was so used to typical medical exams that he was completely unprepared for a cosmic eldritch entity to be on the bench. Testing for blood pressure resulted in him squeezing her wrist so hard it flattened outright. Drawing blood revealed it was purple and pulsating. Even the x-rays he performed were impossible to make sense of, not helped by the fact that, despite being a static image, they kept rearranging themselves every time he looked away. Her very presence through these trials was such a cognitohazard, he was forced to wear a gas mask to even be in the same room as her.

As an imp of science, however, he felt obligated to continue. Both for his own personal curiosity, and the advancement of medicine for the recently-deceased. The question was, how to go about it? Even when she was completely still, Vanessa’s internal organs refused to cooperate, like every piece of her was an independent organism. It defied all of his known logic.

Eventually he defaulted to an easy task, that of a basic reflex test. Dr. Skald held the tiny mallet in his hand, over Vanessa’s exposed leg. He looked up to the curious witch.

“This will show me your ability to react to outer stimulii,” he explained. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll just tap your knee, and it should react accordingly.”

“Alright,” Vanessa said with a smile.

The doctor wisely stepped away from Vanessa’s leg, so as to avoid being kicked by either in the process. He stopped carefully, mallet at the ready, and he gave a quick tap to Vanessa’s leg, just above her knee. It flexed…and then came right off, toppling to the floor.

Vanessa let out a scream, startling Dr. Skald enough to start screaming as well. The two looked at the separated leg in horror…until Vanessa’s screams transitioned into hysterical laughter, breaking out into a wide and mischievous grin.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” she said, breathless in between her giggles. She leaned down, picking up her leg with ease. Then she placed it on her lap gently. “That was naughty of me, I know. I was having fun.”

Dr. Skald grumbled to himself, annoyed at the scare. “Honestly, this is a hall of medicine,” he protested. “I’d prefer it if you take this seriously.”

He was about to comment further, when he examined the leg itself. Clean cut, nary a single blood drop. It was as though it popped right out in much the same way a toy would have done. Modular, perhaps. Certainly fascinating, and more to the point, a spark of inspiration to the doctor.

“Is the rest of your body like this?” he asked, curious.

“Oh, yes,” Vanessa agreed. “Basically any part of me can come right off with enough force. And I can put myself together again whenever.”

“I see,” Dr. Skald nodded in understanding. Painless separation of the limbs, and possibly organs as well? Highly unorthodox, he knew, but this was an unorthodox patient. The cogs were turning in his head.

“I think I know how we can both get a proper check-up done,” he finally said.

…

Of course, Loona was a legal adult and was therefore allowed to access the vices Hell permitted. Octavia was just under legal age, however, and a daughter of royalty-plus Loona did not want to risk her own license in getting her something dangerous, like booze. She could and would risk Agent’s, meanwhile.

It took a bit of convincing, and a fair amount of implied death threats, but Agent was coerced into bringing the three of them into the Gluttony ring. The sigil was easy enough to form, in part due to Loona’s intimate knowledge of their creation. As Agent found, that was the simple part. The harder part was coping with how much of a drastic change the Gluttony circle of Hell was to the Pride circle. Whereas Pride was a typical gritty nightlife, Gluttony was a nonstop party, a literal endless rave and positively massive buffet, fitting of the sin’s very nature. More to the point, Agent was rather overwhelmed by both the sudden shift and the large influx of people.

He was still scratching at his shoulder even as he showed his ID to the bouncer. Loona glanced his way, bemused. “I didn’t even break skin that much,” she remarked. “You’re really that wounded?”

“I don’t know…” Agent said, and he was quite unsure. He felt somewhat dulled, albeit some of that might just have been his introversion, he thought. No, he was more concerned about a cold sweat he had developed. He scratched again, harder, and he gritted his teeth in the process. Walking was an increasingly harder labor, something the girls were noting. Even Octavia looked concerned.

“Alright, before we get to partying,” she said finally. “Let’s get him to a chair.”

Through his protests, Loona took a grip under Agent’s arm, dragging him across the floor to a nearby bench, Octavia taking the other side. He was dropped onto the surface like a sack of potatoes-Loona’s doing-as he tried to regain his composure. Something was wrong, he knew. Something was very wrong.

His shoulder continued to burn, aching heavily. It felt like something was growing from that very spot, something deep inside of him…And as Loona and Octavia watched, their expressions turned from mild concern to moderate surprise.

From the wound sprouted fur, grey fur, and at a rapid pace. The fur enveloped his shoulder within seconds, spreading across his skin like a surge of flame. It crept all across, one shoulder to another, down his arm, and encroaching lower as well. No surface was safe, not that Agent was coherent enough to focus on the fur developing-his mind was scrambled from the sheer effort his body was throwing himself into.

As the fur swept his body, further changes were forthcoming. Both of his hands felt daintier, thinner, and more feminine…but his nails were growing as well, turning darker, sharper. Claws, almost. No, definitely claws, knife-like in nature.

It was like his entire body was warping and reshaping from the inside out, his chest and waist shifting and swelling to create curves. As the changes went downwards, a new growth appeared on his rear, a tail swelling and tearing right through his jeans. It grew to a massive size, longer and longer, about as long as he was tall, and coated with plenty of fur itself. Some a dark shade of black, some pure white. The grey fur was reserved for his back and the sides of his body, with some on his shoulders.

Seeing this pattern made Loona’s eyes widen. “Holy shit,” she said. “Is that…?”

Agent groaned, looking up at the girls. His eyes appeared bloodshot, but it was far more intensive than it appeared-the whites of his eyeball had turned a crimson red, while his actual iris turned pure white with a black slit for a pupil. His face was sharpening, his mouth and nose pushing forwards. He whined, sounding almost like a dog in the process, his new muzzle developing perfectly.

There was no question, Loona realized, watching the agonized Agent change. He was becoming a clone of herself…somehow.

The hair on Agent’s head exploded out, a grey surge of hair that was just as stylish as the tail, but far less organized. His ears shrunk from the sides of his head, instead growing upwards and outwards, sharpening into a pair of triangular ears that poked through the top of his head. One was slightly buried by the hair, the other was primarily exposed, an effect of the hairstyle.

He clutched his crotch, and his chest, feeling sharp tingling movements against his very being. He, or she at this juncture, whined again, feeling her entire gender realign despite her best efforts. Her legs cracked and shifted, her feet swelling into two canine paws, with matching legs built for pouncing and running.

Perhaps most intense of all, even though the full-body hellhound-ification was a blistering chorus of agony, was a sudden surge of emotion to her system. She felt apathy. She felt blinding rage. She felt like no one understood her, that she was all alone in the world. She eventually felt the pain stop, fading slowly, and she could concentrate on what had just transpired. The real Loona and Octavia looked over Agent’s new shape, an exact twin to the very hellhound in front of her. She gasped at the realization.

“What the fuck?” Agent asked, before clasping her mouth. She usually didn’t use such language, scarcely at all; even when Vanessa caused her own mischief in far bigger ways. An aftereffect of the personality adaption, she supposed.

“Yeah, I should be the one asking that fucking question,” Loona said. She poked and prodded Agent in curiosity and frustration. She poked her own teeth, wondering if they were the cause. “Didn’t realize I could do that. Unless you had some weird shit in you too.”

“At this point, I don’t even know,” Agent admitted. She felt very off in this state. Certainly, she felt more powerful, yes, and there was a feminine charm to this body. It was also very much not hers, and so it led to a sharp contrast between the original, apathetic model, and the shy and meek version still dressed in Agent’s original red shirt and blue jeans. The glasses were struggling to stay on, between the new muzzle and the ears having moved upstate.

Octavia nonchalantly shrugged. “Guess you got a sis, Loona,” she said. “You know, you could make use of this…”

Loona paused her uncertainty to think about this new turn of events. “Hmm…” she mused. “A clone of me to blame for when shit goes down…”

“Please don’t,” Agent protested meekly. “I don’t wanna live in Hell yet. I have aspirations in life and I still have eight months on my subscription to DorkBox Monthly.”

“Whatever,” Loona scoffed. “So much for the ID plan…But you know, Via?”

She grinned a toothy smile, and Octavia also slowly smiled, figuring out what her hellhound friend was plotting. Agent gulped in fear.

“We’re already in Gluttony,” Loona continued. “Why not let our new ‘Loona’ eat her fill?”

…

Dr. Skald had finally made some progress in the art of examining an eldritch abomination from the ground up, and all it took was some minor high-intensity full-body surgery. He cautiously weighed a small jar, containing one pulsating black mass that he had figured out was Vanessa’s heart. One of them, anyway; the other two were in similar jars nearby.

He looked around his office, and the absurd number of jars he had at the ready. Every one of them had a part of Vanessa inside of them for studying her internal and external organs without interference. There were much more parts than he had anticipated, another enigma of the witch, but at least he could accurately assess each one. So far, a clean bill of health.

On his other side was Vanessa’s head, patiently watching and smiling at the process with bile fascination. At least it was assumed it was a smile, given the fact that Dr. Skald had taped her mouth shut since she would not shut up in trying to help him work. It was either that or a lollipop, and he had run out ages ago.

Eventually he stepped back, dusting his hands. “Well then,” he said. “I do believe that should cover the last bit of you, Miss Dementa.”

He cautiously removed the tape from Vanessa’s lips, and she reflexively sputtered a little. She remained content all the same, even reduced to just a head. “That was fun,” she remarked. “And extremely unethical, which makes it even better. Now you just have to put me back together again.”

Dr. Skald grew silent again, silently pinching and tugging at his lab coat with a nervous expression on his face. Vanessa’s smile slowly dropped.

“You do know how to put me back together again, right?” she asked. “You did pay attention to that?”

“Miss Dementa, it was hard enough disassembling you in the first place,” Dr. Skald argued. “Besides, you can fall apart on your own. Why can’t you reassemble yourself?”

“Because not even I know what it looks like!” Vanessa was annoyed now. “Honestly, what sort of doctor doesn’t take detailed, step-by-step notes on their reverse engineering attempts at turning a witch into a dullahan?”

“The kind that has a fucking life…miss.” Dr. Skald sighed. “Just be thankful you’re not in the Sloth ring. You’d still be waiting for your appointment.”

Their argument was interrupted by another knock at the door. He turned, confused. “I…wasn’t expecting another patient,” he said. “Hopefully it isn’t the authorities. My license is a few centuries out of date.”

Cautiously, he opened the door. He saw a pair of bored girls outside, one hellhound and one owl. He gave a small smile and a polite bow.

“Good evening,” he greeted. “And a member of House Goetia, even! Who do I owe the pleasure?”

“Is there a Vanessa here?” Loona asked, barely looking up from her nails.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Dr. Skald nodded. “She’s currently in the middle of a consultation, however, so it may be a little–“

“Hey, Aunt Vanessa!” Loona called into the practice. “We brought back your nerd!”

“Is that my darling Loonie?” Vanessa called from around the corner. Loona rolled her eyes at the use of her dad’s pet name for herself. “Doctor, bring me over to the door.”

Dr. Skald, at this point resigned to what absurdity he had brought himself into, gave a single finger to the girls outside, beckoning them to wait. The door briefly closed as he went to do as he was asked. He came out with Vanessa’s head in his hands, awkwardly holding the witch’s visage towards the girls. Vanessa, for her part, was grinning.

“Oh, it’s been so long!” she said. “And I’m sure you’ve bathed in the blood of many of your enemies, too.”

“Sweet,” Octavia quipped. “A living hackysack.”

Vanessa laughed at the comment. “Oh, I like her,” she said. “I like her a lot. Takes after her father, no doubt.”

“Right,” Loona said, not in the mood; Octavia briefly bristled at the comparison. “So, about your nerd…”

“I trust Agent didn’t give you much trouble to wrangle?” Vanessa said. “Usually, I find putting a blanket over his head causes him to fall asleep, but–“

She paused when Agent came into view, walking into the alley. “Waddling” was the operative word, and she certainly wasn’t the same human shape as she started. She was still a Loona clone, naturally, and her stay at Gluttony did not do her any favors. It seems Loona and Octavia had encouraged that particular vice for Agent’s sake, far in excess. She looked like a bloated mess, panting from the effort of basic movement, her stomach bulging, her cheeks swollen. Every part of her was aching and tired, four or five times heavier than when she started.

“I think I ate too much…” she groaned. “That bee-fox knows how to throw a party…”

“Indeed, she does,” Vanessa said, with the tone of someone who wasn’t surprised at what had transpired while she was busy. “And you’ll be pleased to know that you’ll be staying like that until I can find someone who can put me back together properly. Maybe Bolt can spare a body.”

“Am I to assume that you’ll be passing on the rest of your treatment?” Dr. Skald asked. “I still have your organs in the office.”

“Ah, yes, just shoot those over when you get the chance, would you, darling?” Vanessa gave what could only be described as a shrug without being a shrug. “Here, Agent, take my head and we’ll go home.”

Agent did as was instructed, making an odd pair. A bloated hellhound and a witch head. Agent gave a weak wave to the girls and tried forming a smile between her panting. Vanessa was more vocal.

“Take care, darlings,” she encouraged. “Oh, and tell your dads I’ll come visit, alright? Oh, and ‘better luck next time’.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Loona said. “See ya, Aunt Vanessa.”

A portal appeared behind Agent, this time large enough to fit her new form. She carried Vanessa towards it slowly–

BANG!

The sudden ring of a gunshot caused Agent to jump, accidentally tossing Vanessa’s head into the portal to safety. Everyone else jumped as well, especially Agent, who quickly dived into the portal herself, before it closed entirely. Loona, Octavia, and Dr. Skald were left staring at where the rift once was, as well as where the bullet collided with the nearby wall, still smoking. From the nearby street, the sound of someone tossing a sniper rifle to the ground was heard.

“FUCK!” someone shouted. “Moxxie, seriously?”

“Sorry, sir,” said an apologetic voice. Loona looked to the side; an agitated imp was berating a more nervous one, both seated in the company car, clearly trying for a drive-by assassination. Much to her embarrassment, she knew both of them. Her dad and her coworker, Blitzo and Moxxie. “I was trying for a clean headshot there, but with the extra body there–“

“She was JUST a fucking head!” Blitzo said in frustration. He eventually sighed in defeat. “Ah well, she’s still paying our rent for the year anyway.”

He looked over, seeing the hellhound nearby. His anger immediately washed away, and he switched directly to his “doting parent” mode. “Hi, Loonie!” he greeted. “Hope I didn’t scare you too much there.”

“Ugh, hi, d-Blitzo,” Loona caught herself. She looked to Octavia, who gave a gesture of noncommittal. “Fuck, alright, we’ll hop in.”

They walked into Blitzo’s car, shoving Moxxie into the middle without his consent. The car screeched away from the alley, leaving Dr. Skald behind. He took stock in his day, in who his patient was, and what antics her flunky had gotten into in such a short time.

“So unique…” he remarked. Then he chuckled. “Miss Vanessa, you’re quite the character, aren’t you? Oh, I do look forward to learning more about you.”

He walked back inside his clinic, and he shut the door behind him. Much to research, after all.

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