Bloody Christmas

As Christmas Day dawned over the city of New York, the sun slowly rose, casting its warm light over the bustling streets and towering skyscrapers. People hurried along the sidewalks, carrying gifts and spreading holiday cheer, while the city shimmered with the festive spirit.

However, within a dimly lit warehouse nestled deep in the heart of the city, a starkly different scene unfolded. A group of men, shrouded in shadows, meticulously packed an array of guns and assorted weapons. Each movement was careful and deliberate, the air thick with a sense of secrecy and urgency.

As the morning light filtered through the dusty windows, it illuminated the men's intense expressions as they worked, their faces betraying no emotion. Outside, the joyful sounds of Christmas bells and laughter seemed to fade into the distance, drowned out by the muted clinks and metallic echoes within the warehouse.

The juxtaposition of the festive city outside and the clandestine activities inside the warehouse created a palpable tension. It was a stark reminder that even on a day meant for celebration and goodwill, darkness and danger could still lurk in the shadows of the city.

And so, as the sun continued its ascent, the scene within the warehouse remained cloaked in secrecy, a stark contrast to the holiday spirit that enveloped the rest of the city as the sun slowly rose, casting its warm light over the city of New York.

Meanwhile, within the dimly lit warehouse nestled deep in the heart of the city, the group of men meticulously packing the array of guns and assorted weapons had an infamous leader. Leading this nefarious operation was none other than a man embodying pure evil - Satan himself. Determined to unleash chaos upon the city, he had vowed to make good on his promise to Asmo, ensuring that one of his cherished cities would suffer the consequences.

Amidst the preparations, a man named Vince approached Satan, also known as Saturn, to deliver urgent news. "Saturn, the weapons are ready, but..." Vince hesitated.

"But what?!" Satan bellowed impatiently. Unfazed by Saturn's temper, Vince calmly replied, "The hired hitmen are all incapacitated."

Satan was taken aback, his expression a mix of shock and fury. "What the hell do you mean?" he demanded, his voice dripping with menace.

Vince spoke cautiously, acutely aware that his next words could determine whether he lived or perished should Satan erupt in a fit of rage due to the information he was about to reveal. "Every strip club in the city was offering complimentary high-quality services to men in our line of work. Our associates took advantage of this offer and went to indulge in a night of revelry. However, what transpired in those establishments remains a mystery. All the men who partook in the festivities are either in a comatose state or rendered unable to speak."

Upon hearing Vince's account, Satan broke into uproarious laughter, his sinister chuckles echoing throughout the warehouse.Vince, confused by his boss's sudden outburst, asked, "Please Boss, what's the laugh for?"

Satan, with a chilling calmness, instructed Vince to come closer and find out. Oblivious to the Devil's sinister intentions, Vince complied.

As Vince cautiously approached Satan, a storm of emotions raged within him. Fear gnawed at his insides, intertwining with curiosity and apprehension. His every step felt heavy with the weight of uncertainty, each footfall echoing in the dimly lit warehouse.

The sudden uproarious laughter of his boss had set off alarm bells in Vince's mind. His confusion only deepened his sense of unease as he struggled to decipher the enigmatic reaction. Despite the chilling calmness in Satan's demeanor, Vince couldn't shake the feeling that danger lurked just beneath the surface.

As he moved closer, his body language betrayed a mix of caution and tension. Every fiber of his being urged him to tread carefully, his senses on high alert for any sign of what awaited him. The air crackled with suspense as Vince braced himself for the revelation that lay ahead, his emotions a maelstrom of fear and the relentless pull of curiosity.

In a horrifying turn of events, Satan swiftly snapped Vince's neck. His expression turned dead serious as he addressed the rest of his men, who stood frozen in shock at the sudden murder of their comrade.

"As you can see, there's been a change of plans," Satan announced in a chilling tone. "Increase the pace of your preparations. We will commence the mission in one hour, starting with phase two."

Satan was keenly aware of what had befallen his hitmen. They had been intercepted and neutralized by Asmodeus and his ruthless cadre, the Strip Killers. These women were an exceptional and lethal group who served Asmodeus in various brutal capacities, functioning as his executioners.

The Strip Killers were an elite force, proficient in carrying out gruesome and fatal tasks at the behest of Asmodeus. Picture visiting a strip club in anticipation of a pleasurable evening, only to have your life swiftly ended by a woman you initially mistook for a mere performer. It was undeniably a remarkable yet chilling way to meet one's demise, particularly for those who appreciated swift and alluring deaths.

Now, the pressing inquiries revolved around how Satan would retaliate, the nature of "phase two," and what other sinister schemes the Prince of Lust, Asmodeus, had in store for Satan, the Prince of Wrath. The dawning of the day indicated that what was meant to be a joyous occasion was shaping up to become a blood-drenched Christmas.