The hallways were bad vibes central, all sinister shadows and throbbing walls.
Genesis took point, his senses cranked to eleven after feeling that something was off.
"Stay frosty," he hissed, eyeballing the pulsing veins on the ceiling. "Beelzebub's not gonna roll out the red carpet."
Jezebel shivered, hugging herself. "This whole place feels like it's alive.
And pissed."
"Because it is," Genesis said grimly. "The mansion's got a bad case of demon flu, courtesy of Lord of the Flies.
It's gonna fight us every step."
Ezequiel fingered his crucifix, eyes darting. "So what's the plan, Genesis? How do we get our hands on anti-demon weapons?"
Genesis tapped his temple, grinning. "I can see the mansion schematics, more like feel them.
I know all the secret routes.
Just gotta navigate the fun house from hell."
As if on cue, the hallway split in two, double-barrel shotgun style.
Genesis cocked his head, listening to the whispers in his skull.
Left.
Definitely left.
He jerked his chin at the gaping maw. "This way, children. And watch your step. Demons are fans of booby traps and jump scares."
The first room was straight out of Saw.
Rusty blades pendulum swinging from the ceiling, blood-spattered tiles, the works.
"Oh hell no," Jezebel breathed. "I am not walking through that."
Genesis rolled his eyes. "Rookie mistake, Jezebel.
It's all smoke and mirrors." He scooped up a femur and threw it at the blades.
It passed right through, clattering on the far side.
"Illusion," he said smugly. "The real trap's in the floor.
Pressure plates.
Step on one, get a face full of demon spunk.
Or worse."
He jitterbugged through, nimble as a ninja.
The others followed, Ezequiel mumbling prayers.
The next room was straight nightmare fuel.
Walls papered with human skin, chairs upholstered with viscera.
A sight similar to the Colonial race from the All Tomorrows.
In the center, three pedestals with boxes.
"Ooh, I know this one," Genesis said. "Demon Let's Make a Deal. Two boxes fry your face off, one's got the get out of jail free card."
"And you know which is which... how?" Zeke asked.
Genesis tapped his nose. "Demons love patterns.
It's always the one that smells the worst."
He sniffed each box, gagging.
Pointed to the middle one, covered in pustulent boils. "That one. Crack it open, Jezebel."
Jezebel looked green. "Why me?"
"Because if I'm wrong, I don't want my pretty face melted.
I am kidding, I am pretty sure this is the box."
She flipped him the bird, holding her breath as she opened the box.
Inside was a key, dipped in something gooey and black.
"Ectoplasm," Genesis said. "Means it'll open a ghost door.
Keep it handy."
They moved on, the mansion throwing everything it had at them.
A room filled with shrieking banshees.
A chessboard floor that threatened to swallow them whole.
A hall of mirrors that reflected their darkest fears.
And Genesis danced through it all, cracking wise and thinking twelve steps ahead.
His big brain was the ultimate cheat code, deciphering every occult trap and demon prank.
Until they hit a dead end. A stone wall, slick with ichor. No doors, no windows, nada.
"Okay genius, now what?" Jezebel snapped, frazzled.
Genesis closed his eyes, communing with his inner demons.
Felt a tug in his gut, a whisper only he could hear.
"Blood," he murmured. "It wants blood."
Before anyone could stop him, he slashed his palm on a jutting bone shard, smearing crimson on the ectoplasm key they acquired before.
Suddenly, a keyway materialized on the wall.
As Genesis put the key inside and turned it left, it started shuddering, folding in on itself like origami from hell.
And there, in the hidden alcove, was the mansion keeper.
A ghost in a pressed suit, face like a death mask.
"Bravo," the specter said, slow clapping. "Most get killed by The Spectras."
Genesis stepped up, going nose-to-nose with the mansionkeeper. "I am not most people.
Now tell me mansionkeeper.
What's Beelzebub doing in this mansion?"
The keeper's face twisted. "That interloper is no guest of ours. The Lady of Sorrows would never allow such filth to profane her home."
Genesis cocked an eyebrow. "What about the demoness?"
"An honored visitor, once. Before..." The keeper trailed off, shaking his head. "No matter. The house serves only the invited. And Beelzebub is not welcome."
The air went frigid, angry spirits boiling out of the walls.
Genesis just smiled, all shark teeth and bad intentions.
"I see, so the Lady of Sorrows knew The Demoness..."
Genesis nodded, jaw tight. "Damn straight.
Beelzebub's parasite, and it's time to cleanse this place."
He turned to his friends, fire in his eyes. "Gear up, kids.
We're going to hunt demons."
They raided the storage room like kids in a candy store.
Holy water sanctified by Genesis, pure metal blades, silver bullets - it was Christmas for demon slayers.
Genesis ran his fingers over pure salt, grinning. "Season's greetings."
Ezequiel hefted a sword, whistling.
"Shiny. I bet this could take a demon's head clean off."
"A low-class demon?
Probably yes.
But this is Beelzebub we are talking about my dear Ezequiel.
These pure weapons cannot kill nor banish him but only weaken him a bit." Genesis said.
He gathered them around, a general rallying his troops. "Sun Tzu said it best.
Supreme excellence isn't just about winning.
It's about breaking the enemy without throwing a punch."
Jezebel raised an eyebrow. "And how do we do that, oh wise one?"
Genesis tapped his temple. "We outsmart the demon.
I have a plan.
Beelzebub's got a brain full of maggots, but he's not stupid.
He'll have traps, tricks, all kinds of nasty surprises."
He leaned in, eyes gleaming. "But we've got the edge.
We know his weakness.
We play to that, we can take him down without breaking a sweat."
Zeke frowned. "I don't know, Genesis.
Taunting a demon prince? Seems risky."
"audentes Fortuna iuvat.
Fortune favors the bold, my man.
Besides..." Genesis's grin turned feral. "I've got a few tricks of my own."
He turned, scanning the shadows.
Something prickled the back of his neck, a sense of being watched.
"Hosea," he called, voice like flint. "Quit playing peek-a-boo.
My eyes might be wounded, but my newfound sight pierces through the shadows."
A laugh, low and sultry, as Hosea slunk out of the dark. "Clever boy.
And here I thought I'd get to watch the show unseen."
Genesis snorted. "Please. You've got 'hidden agenda' written all over you, sweetheart.
What's your angle?"
Hosea pouted, all red lips and batting lashes. "Now, why would you think little old me has an angle?"
"Because you're breathing.
And I made sure I buried you, so you can come back."
She laughed again, a sound like velvet over razor wire. "Fair enough.
Let's just say... I have a vested interest in seeing Beelzebub taken down a peg. Or ten."
Jezebel stepped up, eyes narrowed. "And we should trust you why, exactly?"
Hosea spread her hands, a picture of innocence. "The enemy of my enemy, darling.
I may not be on your side, but I'm certainly not on his."
Genesis considered her, gears turning behind his eyes.
An alliance with Hosea was like juggling nitro - thrilling, but liable to blow up in their faces.
Still, they needed all the help they could get.
And something told him Hosea had more up her sleeve than just a pretty face.
"Alright," he said finally. "You're in. But cross us, and I'll introduce you to a whole new world of holy hurt.
We clear?"
Hosea's smile was a razor blade. "Crystal."
The new team armed themselves to the teeth, a mismatched band of brothers (and sisters) ready to storm the gates of hell.
Genesis looked at each of them in turn, something like pride flickering in his chest.
They were a motley crew, but they were his crew.
And together, they were going to kick evil's ass six ways to Sunday.
"Alright, you beauties," he said, cocking his musket with pure salt. "Let's go introduce ourselves to the neighbors.
Beelzebub's got a housewarming gift coming, and it's got our names all over it."
Ezequiel and Jezebel cheered, raising their weapons high.
Even Hosea cracked a smile, a glint of something like respect in her eyes.
While Amos smiled quietly.
They marched out, a holy army of five, ready to take the fight to the enemy.
The mansion trembled around them, a living thing caught between two masters.
But Genesis knew, deep in his bones, that they would prevail.
They had to.
for the mansion, for every poor bastard caught in Beelzebub's web.
They were the light in the darkness, the hope in the haunted halls.
And they would not be denied...