Chapter Text
All the televisions in Hell glitched on, as Adolf’s pompous countenance flashed on every corner of the realm. The citizens watched contentedly, which was absolutely not a normal case— Hell never belonged to such peaceful residents.
In fact, the irises of their eyes were contaminated, a jet-black swastika swirling in their pupils as their brains copied every word that their ‘Führer’ said. The ‘hypno’ in their eyes was the most convenient way of controlling a large amount of souls ALL at once.
Yet there was a house, partially unaffected by the aggressive ’hypno’ that ravaged the domain.
This residence housed three demons, two whom knew each other and one whose soul belonged to another.
As the television buzzed on, a signal to start the long and unforgettable night which would lead to a series of ripples, the infamous Josef Stalin , or otherwise, Iosif Vissarionovich Dzhugashvili****** , promptly decided to turn it off.
“Another projection of Adolf’s crappy propaganda, I assume.” He sneered, as his fingers moved to the button to switch of the screen—
“Wait—! I’d want to see what a ridiculous show he would put on tonight,” Franklin Delano Roosevelt*******, now staring at the screen, had his ears perked up in excitement.
“Hah! It’d be the old stuff, I guess, claiming his empire is strong and powerful whereas in fact it’s crumbling inside,” Iosif snorted, as he lowered his finger and retreated to the corner of the room.
“Hmmm… we’ll see, I feel something different from most nights…” Roosevelt chuckled as he swivelled his chair to meet Iosif’s eyes.
“Well, you always feel something, right…” Iosif muttered as he slowly started to button up his coat. The night was the coldest he had experienced, the wind blowing right through his bones like daggers.
“You left the window open. Of course it’s cold. “ Roosevelt groaned as he tapped three buttons on his chair—no, in fact a wheelchair 🦽. A mechanical arm reared up and grabbed the window handle, pulling it shut.
F*ck! Why did the American always see through his thoughts? Was his mind really that vulnerable to the outside world? Damn it.
Well, anyways, the chilling sensation that crept up his spine wasn’t only the wind. It was the sensation of ultimate revenge…