Hell en Pointe | Alastor ✓

chapter 13

"Well, you'd be right," you said a little too meanly. He noticed this and went silent. "Sorry. I'll see you later Husk." He nodded and told you "bye," and you went on to the kitchen.

Were you excited to see Alastor..? No no no no — that would be simply ridiculous! Why would you be looking forward to seeing the man the ruined your life? You dread it! ...Don't you?

Shaking it off, you entered the kitchen, heading to the freezer. You passed Angel, not acknowledging him out of sheer desperate hunger, and rummaged around in the pit, looking for a good sized steak or chicken or something.

"Well good morning to you too, Miss," said Angel. He had been leaning casually on his chair at the dinner table in the center of the kitchen, drinking something from a mug that said "I <3 DICK" on it. He was also scrolling through his phone. He was so obsessed with that thing, you thought.

"Do we have any rabbit?" you said as a response. You turned over different globs of ice in the large freezer but there was hardly anything in there.

"I dunno," said Angel distractedly, glued to his phone. "I don't eat rabbit... y'know... 'cause I'm normal."

You gave him the finger, twisting your long arm to do so, and kept digging in the freezer. Eventually, you found a fairly large wrapped piece of raccoon meat and yanked it out of its spot stuck in the bottom corner of the freezer.

You held it up triumphantly. "Yes! Raccoon for breakfast!"

"Ew," said Angel, crinkling his nose.

"If you tried it," you said, sauntering over to the stove and digging in the cabinets to the left to get a pan, "you wouldn't say 'ew' about it."

Angel put a finger to his chin, holding down his phone for a moment, pretending to think. He let out a humming sound. You narrowed your eyes.

"Nah," he determined finally. "Still think I'd say 'ew' about it."

"Your loss," you smiled, licking your lips as you buttered the pan. Now, it was time to warm this baby up.

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About fifteen minutes later (you devoured the raccoon in under five minutes with your canine teeth, even though it wasn't entirely fresh), you headed to the elevator and pressed the button to the eleventh floor. It made a ding sound, and the automatic doors shut in front of you.

You stroked your hair to smooth it down and danced your tongue over your teeth, ensuring you had no leftover pieces of raccoon in it. After making sure you didn't, you relaxed your shoulders and checked your clothes. After everything looked good, however, you still felt unnerved.

The elevator dinged again and you exited onto the eleventh floor. It was eerie here, the usual maroon wallpaper looking grayish and dim. It was only a long hallway here with no doors or windows or anything. The place was shadowy. Every time you took a couple of steps, you had to look over your shoulder to make sure nothing was going to jump out at you.

Fucking creepy, you thought.

It didn't take very long until you reached a singular dark oak door at the end of the hall. Deciding to be somewhat respectful, you gently knocked at the door, giving Alastor a moment to collect himself and wrap up his broadcast before you spoke to him. You could hear him from behind the door.

"-and that's not even the best part! He then informed the establishment—" That's when you knocked, interrupting his strongly staticky voice. "—Oh! Forgive me, ladies and gentlemen and all those in between! It seems like I will be ending this broadcast early for a very special guest! Tune in next time and my kindest goodbyes, dearest Hell!"

Just as you entered, he had switched off buttons and switches on his table thing in front of him, signaling that he had ended the broadcast. You shut the door gently behind you.

The room was circular with windows lining every side of the small building attached to the Hazbin Hotel. There was a small bulb hanging from the ceiling and a wooden-framed light switch to the left of the entrance, but there was no use for it — the room was naturally alit with a pale red glow filtering in beautifully from the windows.

Alastor sat in a basic-looking chair, his staff laid on the table in front of him, which contained hundreds of different glowing buttons of different colors and types. Buttons, sliders, switches, you name it.

He turned around in his swivel chair, crossing a leg over his knee and leaning back casually. His fingers danced on the armrest, and he visually smiled wider when you entered the room. You struggled to make eye contact with him, for some reason.

"You wanted to see me?" you said rather gruffly.

"Yes, my love, I did," he said in response. He stood up, folding his slender hands behind his back and sauntering closer to you. You stiffened.

"So what's the favor, Alastor?" you asked finally. "What's worth getting my soul back for?"

His face darkened. Your heart slammed against your rib cage as he grew closer and closer to you. You tried to forget what he called you, "my love," tried to make those words an irrelevant and passing thought in your mind, but you couldn't. His words, all his words and pet names, in fact, kept swirling around your mind like an enticing and delicious dark elixir you couldn't help but drink from.

It was hard to breathe. You could smell his scent so strongly on him — pine, wet earth, tobacco, and fresh blood, and it made you want to draw closer to him. You had to physically stop yourself from moving from your spot. You felt drunk.

"My favor?" he said finally. Your eyes stared at his tie, refusing to look him in the eye due to your flushed state. He cusped your chin with his hand, forcing your head up to look him in the eye. When he did, it took your breath away, and you could hardly believe what he said next.

"I want you to travel to the Overworld," said Alastor. "With me."