•{Chapter 2}•

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Happy or Hazbin?






There was no way Harlene was going to shake Alastor's hand. She was utterly petrified. She didn't understand why the infamous overlord was in a hotel meant for the redemption of sinners in the first place, causing her to wonder if the hotel itself was merely a trap to lure in demons and murder them without the messiness of the slaughter on the streets every year. Even so, if that really was the case, Harlene was prepared to welcome her second death just like she'd tried all those years ago. Therefore, the demoness quietly exhaled and let her shoulders relax. For personal reasons, Harlene couldn't bring herself to touch Alastor, but she met her gaze with his as fearlessly as she could.

"Hello," Harlene mewed nervously.

The Radio Demon's grin widened and his eyes narrowed after taking note of Harlene's reluctance to shake his hand, but luckily for Harlene, before he could say anything more, an unfamiliar, slim demon with dark gray skin, white hair, with light pink stripes at its ends and a large pink bow peeking out behind her head, and a missing left eye that had been replaced by a pink cross, stormed over from around a corner where a dining room seemed to be. Behind the demoness, the Princess of Hell, Charlie Magne, hurried after her and followed her into the reception. Charlie's eyes lit up as soon as she caught sight of Harlene, who was practically having a staring contest with Alastor at that point since he wouldn't take his eyes off of her and refused to lower his hand until she took it - which she didn't. She perked her attention to Charlie when she squealed with excitement and began slightly bouncing on her dapper white-and-black shoes.
Alastor finally lowered his hand and straightened his spine, stepping aside to let Charlie and the other demoness see Harlene more clearly. Almost instantly, the demon with the white mini dress with pale navy blue frills at the ends and two light navy blue crosses on her chest widened her eyes, seemingly having recognised Harlene. Yet, she didn't say anything.

"Hi, I'm Charlie! What's your name?" Charlie greeted delightedly, wandering over to their new guest.

Astounded by her beauty up close, Harlene uttered, "Snowflake," knowing full well that it wasn't her true name, but she didn't want to share it in front of the looming overlord beside her.

"That's such a cute demon name! I'm going to call you Snowy for short," she chided, then glanced at the demon, clothed in a pastel goth-like outfit, whose mouth had fallen open. "This is my girlfriend, Vaggie."

Vaggie blurted out, pressing a hand against her forehead as if she had a headache, "You're the Snow Angel! Mierda. This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

"'Snow Angel'?" Charlie repeated, cocking her head to one side. "Why does that sound vaguely familiar?"

"1939, the destruction of Telegraph Square," her girlfriend informed her, then looked at Harlene. "You've been alive all this time?"

Harlene joked, although she didn't smile, "I wouldn't say 'alive', but yes. And, I promise, I don't intend to ruin this place as well."

"What a wonderful coincidence to meet a lady from my own era!" Alastor piped up beside Harlene, reminding her that he was still there and resulting in her wincing in alarm.

Noticing, Charlie gently remarked, "There's no need to be afraid, Snowy. Alastor is here to help with the hotel. He even brought some associates of his own to help out and fill in some staff roles." She nodded over to the one-eyed demon that Harlene had seen earlier. "That's one of them; her name is Niffty. She's really handy. She's going to be our head cook and cleaner - if we're able to recruit more staff, that is."

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