The Unknown (Alastor x reader)

Bloody Streets and Broken Glass

So, I accidentally deleted this chapter right before publishing so erm, here it is?? I had the next chapter panned with this one but I ended up blending them partly together. Really, I could have made this the last chapter but I added a bunch of stuff so the next one will be the ending! Sorry it took so long! Also, thank you too Maliffic1234   Ace_has_no_gender Floaty_Girl_Uravity and AngelDust19   for helping me with the chapter choice involving the contract!
-Pheonix

You set your glass down, the glass that was once filled with water now empty. The clear container shone in the crimson light of Hell and you leaned back on the rickety bed in the apartment you lived in. It was a frail, fallen in, dirty home but it was all you come find at the moment. You had been in hell for about a week now and you and Alastor were back on good terms. He came over some times to say sorry and hang out a little but other then that nothing else happened when he came.
He told you the contact was still open (meaning it would once again become active if you put the necklace back on) but you had not yet. You did not know how you felt about it still.
Do you want to put it on and once again be under the protection of the all-powerful Radio Demon or do you want to try and fend for yourself and be free? If you resumed it, you could go about anywhere without worry, you would once again be sheltered from the outside world. But lose the ability to have time alone. Truly alone, anyways.
Or keep that bridge burned and Be free of the red demon's watchful eye and have some actual privacy and not force him to do anything he does not want to. But that also means he might leave you.
Doesn't it? No, cause if it did he would have left you in Lupus' paws. But he came anyways. Why? Is he truly sorry? Does he love you?
Thoughts ate at your mind and you wrapped your black and white wings around yourself, the already dim room going darker in your own embrace.
You learned a bit about yourself in this time frame.
To start, you were supposed to be an Angel so you are basically a black angel. That explains the bird-like sounds you made during the fight. Since your part bird due to your Angel half. Your staff glowed on the wall behind you and you peeked over the crook of your wing to look at it. You lightly smiled at it and your eyes trailed down to the heart-locket that was tied to its handle.
What now?
You got up to leave, closing to go to the Hotel and talk with Charlie about how things run down here. With a sigh, you opened the door and let out a quiet gasp and you froze. Outside your door, across the street, was a group of thugs beating up some guy whom looked very, very, very dead. You snuck out the door and you could hear them beating up on the poor demon. That's funny, you thought; calling a demon poor.
With a fast but quite turn, you made it out on a busier street and let out a breath you held in fear of being heard. Your staff was held tightly in your hands, clutched tightly to your chest but was dropped when you were pulled back into the ally. The two demons from before, a drag and a male slung you into the dark shadows harshly. Your wings curled around your form to protect the rest of your frail body and opened painfully when you hit a trash can after skidding for a moment.
You gasped in a lung-ful of air, looking at them in fear. You hated this. All of the useless conflict in this place. They frowned down apron you, the drag pointing to your wings.
"Those would be great mounted on my wall over the fireplace!" She (Since their a drag, imma call them a she) said eagerly, taking out a rusted, corroding hatchet. You yelped in fear, trying to stand. Your staff shot to your side at your yelp and aimed at them, but in what was possibly a purposeful spin, the locket dropped onto the floor in front of of you. The male demon laughed, and started to shoot at you with a clean, black, carbine gun. Your staff reflected each but the female (again, the drag) came up behind you and knocked you to the side. You staff could not both fend of the bullets and attack the drag who was wrestling you down at the same time.
You let out a growl, deep from wishing your throat and tried biting at her. She was on top of you but your feet were pressed firmly between her legs- knowing she still had balls.
You two were at a stalemate. One moved, and the other would move. You finally kicked her harder in the sack and she let out a sharp wail, getting weak for a moment when you kicked to the side of you. She slashed her weapon your way in pain, skimming your arm. Warm crimson licked at the wound, pouring onto your skin and down to your hand and dripping onto the pavement. You knew it was not deep, but must have cut a blood vein or two because it kept bleeding angrily.
Before you knew it, you tripped and fell to your butt and was looking up at the drag. She looked pissed. You held the necklace in hand, clutching it before wrapping it around your wrist and fingers, hopping Alastor would feel the contract once again spark to life.