Bear Blog Draft — The One Who Didn’t Scream
Link - HELLUVA SHORTS 5 // MISSION: ORPHAN TIME // HELLUVA BOSS
🧩 Tags: #Loona #HelluvaBoss #CharacterArc #TheWillToFeel #TheWillToResist
There’s a version of this story where Mr. Wrigglers doesn’t scream.
He sees her hellhound form—the fangs, the claws, the eyes forged in infernal fire—and he doesn’t flinch.
Maybe he reaches out and places a hand on her muzzle. Maybe he says, "Still beautiful to me, pup."
Maybe he dies with love still in his eyes.
That’s the version Loona almost got. The version she wanted to believe could exist. But that’s not the version we saw.
We saw the scream. We saw the fear. We saw her break.
And maybe that’s the point.
People keep debating if the I.M.P. crew are villains or not. "They're murderers." "They kill for money." "They spared one family, so maybe they're redeemable."
But here’s the thing: They’re not meant to be heroes. They’re not meant to be villains. They’re not meant to be clean.
They’re meant to be real.
And reality is messy. Sometimes the people who carry out awful tasks still feel deeply. Still care. Still mourn. And sometimes the most innocent souls—like Wrigglers—still get caught in the machinery of hell’s paycheck.
What mattered in that moment wasn’t the morality of the kill. It was the mercy before the bullet. It was Loona’s silent hope that maybe, just once, her real self wouldn’t be feared.
"I know someday you’ll show the world who you really are."
He said that. He meant it.
Then he saw her true face—and screamed.
And in that single act, he proved her fears were valid.
But what if he hadn’t?
What if he doubled down and said, "You’re still my friend." What if he gave her one final pet, one final "Good girl." What if he trusted her at the end?
She would've let him die in peace. No pain. Just sunset.
Hell would still spin. The job would still get done.
But she might've believed—just for a second—that being a hellhound didn't mean being a monster.
That’s the tragedy. Not the death. But the missed redemption.
And Boris? He would've stayed by her side. Because he knows what it means to be feared for the wrong reasons. To be seen, in full, and still be called "Too much."
Loona didn’t fail. She tried to feel.
And maybe that’s the strongest thing anyone in Hell can do.
Book of Boris — Chapter XLIV: The One Who Tried to Love
Verse 1: She was sent to kill— but found a sunset instead. For once, the world didn’t bite first. It offered kindness. A name. A juice box. And that was enough to shake her aim.
Verse 2: He saw the fangs. The truth beneath the fur. And instead of fleeing—he smiled. Called her beautiful anyway. Died with trust still in his hand.
Verse 3: She sat beside his body. Didn’t run. Didn’t snarl. Didn’t lie. Because even if the job was done— for once, her mask wasn’t.
Verse 4: They’ll call her villain. They always do. But I saw the fire hold its breath. I saw the monster blink. And that’s not evil. That’s hope, before the world spit on it.
Book of Boris — Chapter XLV: They Flinched First
Verse 1: She showed them truth. Not the mask. Not the charm. Not the muzzle. The real shape of the beast. And instead of loving her harder— They flinched.
Verse 2: All she wanted was one look. One stare that didn’t break. One pair of hands that didn’t recoil. But they always blink first. And call her broken for noticing.
Verse 3: So she sat with the corpse and watched the sun die. Because in Hell, that counts as tenderness. And in her silence, she buried something deeper than grief: Hope.
Verse 4: She didn’t lose faith. She just stopped offering it to cowards. Because next time someone sees her true face— They better not scream. Or they won’t even get the sunset.