Helluva Illu Style

In Hell’s red glow, where sinners scheme,
A business runs on shattered dreams.
Imps in suits, with horns askew,
They'll kill your enemies—for a modest due.

Through fiery streets and neon grime,
They bicker, banter, waste their time.
With chaos sharp as blades they swing,
It's murder done with a devilish zing.

A boss who screams, a crew unhinged,
Their morals burn, their contracts singed.
From earth to hell and back again,
No soul’s too small, no sin’s too grand.

Yet in the ash, a bond takes root,
Amid the guns and demon loot.
A twisted family, rough and crude,
In Hell’s inferno, oddly glued.

So laugh, and gasp, and brace for pain,
In this infernal, frenzied game.
Where hearts and hellfire intertwine,
The boss's wrath is your deadline.