You were held in Alastor's arms when he stepped into the hotel's threshold, eyes closed and heavy with sleep while your hands were wrapped lazily around your lover's neck. He smiled warmly at you when you buried your nose into his chest, taking a deep inhale and sighing. Angel Dust was sat on the couch, his mismatched eyes filled with joy and delight while he played with his pet pig, giggling a little whenever it stumbled over itself.
"Oh, heya, Smiles!" the arachnid called from the sofa, your face scrunching up in discomfort at the sudden sound. Alastor hurriedly shushed Angel, the spider raising a brow before noticing your sleeping state. "D'awh, you two are way too sweet," he drawled with a grin. "How was she?" Alastor froze, ear twitching and smile straining. "That, my friend, is none of your business," he snapped in a hushed tone.
Angel Dust just shrugged and went back to playing with the small critter on the couch. "Was just wonderin' if that Damien fella was tellin' the truth when he started insultin' me," he admitted. Alastor rolled his eyes and looked at the concierge. Husk was nowhere to be found. "Where's Husker?" he asked cooly, and began striding towards the bar, reaching a hand back behind it only to find empty bottles and old cans.
"Ayuh, Husk went out to grab some new booze. Since he's, uh, 'runnin' low'," Angel informed. Alastor grimaced. Such an alcoholic, that one. That meant nothing of their friendship though, so Alastor never really payed much mind to the feline's habits. "Right...none of the others came back yet?" the stag turned back towards his acquaintance, watching as he began to tickle the hog's stomach.
"Nope. Vaggie left with Charlie and the tall one earlier — what's his name? Gabriel, right? He's kinda hot, not even gonna lie. It's a shame he's such a prude; never shows any skin." Angel Dust flopped back onto the couch, the pig laying on his stomach and slowly falling asleep. "He's kinda like you, in a way." There was a small pause while Angel scratched his chin. "Actually, scratch that, you just fucked her senseless." Alastor's grip tightened on your form.
"I'll have you know that we were actually quite soft, this time round. Sex isn't all about dominance and kinks," he sneered in disgust, looking away from the arachnid for a mere two seconds. Angel Dust rolled his eyes. "Well, in MY opinion, Lady Gaga's words are what speak to me most. When it's love, if it's not rough, it isn't fun! WHOO!"
"Did you just snort some while I-"
"Absolutely."
Without another word, Alastor wheeled around and began stalking towards the stairs, wanting to put you into a more comfortable spot to rest. His soft humming echoed off the old, peeling walls, ears drooped back lazily. Subconsciously, he yawned. It had been a while since he felt fatigue, but perhaps having a small sleep with you wouldn't be so bad.
"Had fun?" Zandor checked in from beside his host, holding Alastor's staff in his dark hands. The stag just smiled at his friend, soon arriving in front of your door and pressing his hand to the lock, easily picking the mechanism and entering your room. Your scent was stronger here, filling his nose and intoxicating him. The Loa whisked past the stag, setting the microphone by the window. Its single eye lit up and it looked towards Alastor.
"Wowza! Had a fun one, Alastor?" it laughed jovially, Zandor settling on the windowsill and listening to it. The man nodded. "She's lovely. Too good for me, if I'm being completely honest," he admitted and set you down on your bed, pulling the covers back and draping them over your tranquil form. Such beauty doesn't belong down here, he thought.
"I think I'm going to take a small nap. Been a while and I'm sort of tired," Alastor explained to his two companions, watching as they exchanged a quick glance, Zandor shrugging. "Fair enough. I'll wake you if you're needed," the shadow said and vanished, the mic's eye soon flickering and coming to a close.
The stag pulled his overcoat off for the second time that day, snapping his fingers so your tight jumpsuit would be replaced with some comfier clothing to rest in. His shirt was easily unbuttoned and hung on your doorknob, his discolored hand remaining on the clothing article for a moment while he stared at the scars along his forearm. Such an idiot. Worrying her with this.
He sighed and brushed his hair back. He wouldn't need to hurt himself any longer. Everything would be okay. They would get their first soul redeemed, Gabriel would go back to Heaven, you would stay down here with him, he would kill Lucifer, and everything would be okay.
Stars filled the ink in the sky, glittering and shining like they did on Earth. White and bright, shimmering with their immaculate glory. Alastor silently gazed up at them in awe, his jaw hung open in the slightest as he subconsciously walked into an empty forest clearing. Grass brushed along the sides of his bare feet, the soft soil digging between his toes. Toes.
He looked down, his normal, humanoid toes in place of the hooves he had grown accustomed to over the decades, his brow lifting curiously. An owl called, its form casting a shadow over the mighty moon, wings spread wide and what appeared to be a mouse caught between its talons. There was no wind, only the sound of his feet pressing into the earth beneath him while he walked.
A familiar air surrounded Alastor's form, reminding him of a place that reminded him of his home. His young life. The smell was nostalgic, nothing like the polluted stench of drugs and sex that filled his nose every single time he left a building — or entered one. It was fresh now and the environment was green, very unusual after so many years in Hell.
"Zandor?" His voice echoed. "Zandor!" he tried again. No shadow came to his side this time, and for some odd reason, he felt afraid. Afraid like when his father beat his mother; when he had to hide in the closet and pray that Pa was too drunk to look for him there; when the old bastard removed his belt and raised above Alastor; when the leather struck his skin and left a screamingly hot mark. He was scared.
A feeling unusual to him, but far from foreign. His eyes darted around the clearing. "Zandor," he gave one last attempt at calling his friend's name, hoping that he would appear and say that he had just been pulling his leg. Being here all alone... Nobody to turn to. The dark night whispering and grumbling in the woods. The hairs on his neck rose and his scarred hands began to fidget. He rubbed one of his amber eyes after pushing his glasses up, trying to keep his breathing steady.
Was he truly this weak without that creature? No...that couldn't be right. Zandor helped him, but not with everything. This wasn't right. He wasn't feeling scared. So what was? And what was infecting his soul with such a horrible sensation. His hands shook like the ground did, hissing and snarls from below allowing him to take a step back. That was when he finally registered where he was. The old Vodun burial grounds.
Damballa rose before him, looking young, far younger than when Alastor had last seen him. His scales were a shining green color, flecked with scales blacker than the void. His yellow eyes were sharp and bright, nothing like that dull, mucky color he had grown used to. Lastly his hair was anything but greasy and stringy, falling down the sides of his face and the back of his neck. The Loa's tongue licked at the air, body bending low so he could reach eye-to-eye with the man.
"Alastor. My, you haven't changed a bit. But I suppose dreams may alter reality a little. Perhaps you have taken on a far less charming form when you dropped to that inferno." The spry snake grinned, huffing a small puff of air into Alastor's face. Much to his shock, it reeked naught. Only a light odor of flesh lingering on it.
"Damballa. Looking far healthier, I see," Alastor greeted and bowed low, the serpent shaking his head. "I shed my skin two decades ago. It feels lovely after the past millennia of being stuck in that old body of mine," he chuckled in a voice that was deep and soft on the ears. It was strange to Alastor, not hearing him wheeze like a horse on its last leg.
Alastor looked at him, fear still gripping his heart. "Why am I afraid?" he asked, no words of explanation following. Damballa looked down at the human, moving his snout into his personal space. A moment of silence meandered through the burial ground. Alastor then hesitantly set his hand on the snake's smooth nose, watching the nostrils move with each breath.
"The feelings of a child speak stronger than any other," Damballa cooed. The brunette slowly began tracing the scales on the being's large maw, frowning weakly. "What's that supposed to mean? I know I'm afraid and I know that I wouldn't normally be afraid. So why am I afraid?" he repeated his question. The Loa sighed softly. "This was an emotion you felt when you first met Zandor. An emotion that child felt when he saw you bring the knife down. An emotion that (Y/n) felt when she watched you feast upon that horrible man."
Damballa's eyelids were lowered, just as always. "Fear is one of the strongest emotions a creature can feel in its life. I mean true fear. Not fear from a small spook your friends gave you. I mean fear. That feeling when you know that you are in serious danger." There was a pause as the snake lifted away, Al's hand falling limp at his side. His head raised so he could look at the Loa.
"But there are other emotions that are stronger...and those emotions mixed with fear can bring severe pain to one. If (Y/n) falls into his hands again, I can assure you, Alastor, that those marks on your arms won't suffice. Something greater will swallow the sea in your mind and corrupt you into far worse things." Alastor looked away, trying to steady his breathing.
The fifth night... The gun...
He shook his head briefly and returned his worried gaze to the superior being. "I won't."
"Oh, but you will if you're not careful, boy. You thought of her as a plaything, a tool for your own entertainment. But you grew attached to her, and now if anything were to happen, anything at all, you would lose it. I know that for a fact." Guilt tore at his insides like a caged tiger, drops of salty tears biting at his eyes.
"I'll keep her safe."
"I'd expect it from you, Alastor."
-
Alastor jolted awake to the sound of muffled, incoherent yelling and a hand harshly shaking his shoulder, his features wrinkled into a scowl. "What's going on!?" he snapped at Zandor who was worriedly looking at the door. "Damien's back. And he's anything but happy." The Loa passed Alastor his staff and the gun as he jumped out of the bed, your small form moving a little from the lack of warmth.
The stag brushed his knuckles along your forehead, brows pinching together at the sight of you. "Keep her safe. I'm going to go handle this," he hissed and swept out of the room, his fingers snapping and his form being covered by his usual clothes. It would take him too long to use the elevators, so he had just ended up manifesting in the lobby, hand clenched around his microphone.
Damien was busy hollering with Husk, who had now come back from shopping and was restocked on booze, Charlie trying desperately to think of a way to stop the situation while gnawing on her fingernails. Vaggie was beside her, rubbing her fiancée's shoulder. "THAT BASTARD KILLED ME A SECOND TIME, WHERE THE FUCK IS HE!?" Damien shrieked, Husk's wings flared out. Gabriel was behind the bar with the feline, two objects glowing in his hands and a look of concentration on his face.
Human methods.
"I'm right here, no need to be so vulgar," Alastor grinned, buying the Archangel a little more time. His microphone vanished. He always had the gun if he needed it though; thing was, it was just a tiny bit illegal, and whatever the Radio Demon did would very quickly spread as news. "You," Damien swiveled his head to glare at the stag, his single golden eye filled with hatred. "You fucker! Give me the Blessing Tip back!" he cried out and stamped a foot against the ground angrily.
"Now, why exactly would I do that? You're just looking to bring harm," he chuckled, pulling the pistol from thin air. He aimed it at the raptor, closing his left eye and straightening the muzzle so that it was aligned. "Such a shame you did so many awful things to that girl. But I'm afraid this has to end." His eyes flicked towards Gabriel, who looked anything but finished, Damien's anger only seeming to augment by the second. Just pull the trigger. Let this nightmare end.
But, just like back on Earth, the gun simply clicked. No bullet shot from it and there was no bang. Just a deafeningly loud click.
Oh God. Not again. Fuck.
"You fool! You really think I would have left it loaded! I'm not an idiot, Alastor! I would have thought the same for you!" Amatores threw his head back in howling laughter, the gun in Alastor's hands suddenly becoming very useless. The shadows took it away from him and he simply stood, everyone in the lobby having gone quiet from the stag's attempt at assassination.
Damien walked in Alastor's direction, tail lashing to and fro angrily. "You think you can get rid of me again, huh!? That woman belongs to me! She signed that contract! I payed her! I marked her! I fucked her!" he snarled and pointed a long claw at the stag. As much as Alastor just wanted to tear him to shreds right then and there, he couldn't. Waiting another three weeks would be dangerous. This had to end now.
"Al?" your voice sounded from the stairwell, his attention moving away from Damien for but a second. "(Y/n)? Why aren't you upstairs?" Alastor worried, smile strained. Your speech hadn't even started when Damien launched himself at Alastor, the both of them falling to the floor and beginning to throw punches, much like the night Alastor had ended the mess for the first time. The staff appeared in his hands.
The raptor's skeletal jaws snapped viciously in front of his face and around the pole of his microphone while he just barely managed to keep him away, holding the object up above his body. The overlord kicked the mobster off, leaving him a very short amount of time to scramble onto his feet and step out of the way as Amatores clumsily skidded across the polished wood floors on his clawed feet towards him.
"Just give her to me and we can both get out of this alive," Damien growled and jumped at Alastor again, his talons managing a lucky blow along his chest just as he stepped out of the way. The buck hissed watching blood begin to pool from the wound and stain his outfit, eyes narrowed. I rather liked that one.
"Alastor! Oh my goodness!" you cried. Gabriel raised his head from what he was doing, setting one of the two objects down on the counter and then hopping over the bar, wings unfurled. Damien grinned triumphantly, his black hair falling out of place and in front of his eyes. Charlie was holding Vaggie tight, clearly trying to fight off her fear. "Radio Demon bleeding!? You're giving in too easy, my friend!" The raptor dropped onto all fours and took a quick running start, Alastor's eyes widening for a tenth of a second when he saw him hurtle off the ground, claws outstretched.
That was when Gabriel clasped a hand around Damien's neck, stopping him in the air, and plunged a golden crucifix right into the center of his chest, a shriek of pure and absolute agony tearing from his throat and shaking the hotel's walls. Damien writhed. A sharp, bleeding light of gold cracked along his body, both of his hands wrapping around the hand that held the cross. His legs kicked and shivered and his jaws snapped violently.
"No no no no NO! FOOL, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" he screamed. Gabriel's eyes were glowing like the halo's around his head, wide and almost emotionless. The feathers on his wings were puffed out, revealing the eyes beneath them, which were also gleaming. "Be rid of this world and the one you fall to next, foul one!" your friend sneered in what sounded to be Enochian, his voice echoing as if a hundred other men were speaking with him.
Damien's gaze went dull, a finally cry being pushed out before gold swallowed his throat and poured out from his boney muzzle, his whole form falling limp. Gabriel released him, his body hitting the ground with a dead thump, your heart racing and muscles frozen. Alastor had quickly joined your side, holding you close and whispering hushed nothings in your ear, Charlie, Vaggie, and Husk rushing to Damien's corpse and immediately beginning to examine it fearfully.
"So...he's..." Charlie looked to the Archangel. "Gone. Banished from here, at least," Gabriel said flatly and returned to the bar, silently retrieving the second item. Alastor's hands ran through your hair while he kissed your cheeks, then your nose, then your lips. "My darling, I'm so sorry you had to see that." You sighed and leaned into his wounded chest, carefully as to not hurt him further. Niffty rushed in with a bucket and a sponge, already getting to work on scrubbing the mess of the fight of the floor.
Angel Dust followed more slowly, seeming a little scared. "Is he gone yet? He started insultin' my boobs again," the spider whispered a little loudly, a weak smile replacing your frown. "He's gone," you answered, a sense of confidence replacing the worry you had felt just a few moments earlier. Angel sighed happily and scampered over to the small crowd, also joining in as they spectated Niffty's cleaning skills, your attention having lowered for a brisk second before water was splashed on Alastor.
Instinctively, you hopped back with a yelp, staring at your lover's half soaked face.
And that was when his flesh began to boil.
{3163 words}