"VALENTINO"
•••
[FOUR YEARS AGO]
You hadn't intended to screw him over, truly, you hadn't. Your hobbies were expensive, and after all, you were the one selling your body, shouldn't the payments go to you anyway? Clearly, he didn't think that way, given by the hand that's wrapped around your throat, palm pushing against your windpipe, your back crushed against the brick wall behind you.
"You slut!" He roars, lifting his hand from your neck to smack the backside of that same hand across the side of your face, forcing your head hard into the bricks. You cry out in pain and drop to your knees, a desperate hand reaching up to cup the wound. "You think you're smart, huh!? You think you can fuck with me!?" He kneels down in front of you and takes a handful of your hair, shoving your head face-first into the pavement beneath you. Something cracks, and another agonizing scream is pulled forth from your lips. "Where's the money!?"
"It's gone," You plead through tears, your voice cracking with each word.
"You spent it all!?" He shouts furiously, lifting your head, only to throw it against the pavement again. There's another sickening "crack!" and you feel bile rise to your throat. "Do you have any goddamn idea what we could've done with all that cash?" Another bash, another crack. "You better hope your fuckin' coke addiction kills you because if it doesn't, I swear to god, I'll do it myself!"
Another bash, another crack, and then there's dull silence. Your ears are warm— well, not just your ears anymore, it travels through your brain, your face, your fingertips... it's so warm. Then, abruptly, you're freezing.
You open your eyes, staring up at the foggy red sky above you. With a deep breath, you force yourself to sit up, vision lagging behind your head's movement as you take a look around. You're slouched against a dumpster, in the middle of the street. Your gaze snaps to something across the road: two inhuman entities fist-fighting one another over— judging by the dialogue— a bottle of booze.
Three pairs of eyes travel toward you, openly leering at the sight of your disheveled state. 'What the hell is happening? Am I comatose?' You don't have much time to lull over how you got here, though, because the three demons nod to one another and start to walk toward you.
You bring yourself to your feet shakily, but one of the demons lunges forward and cages you against the dumpster, and the impact in itself sends you back onto your ass.
"Oh, fuck yeah!" Cheers the demon— an imp, you think, though you never bothered to learn different demon species on earth. But, his short stature feels like a fair enough explanation. "I love new arrivals! You're new, right? Why the fuck else would you be laying here? I mean- unless you had a rough night on the town." He snorts obnoxiously.
"Maybe I did," You retort, sneering and breaking out of his grasp, only for the second demon to catch you by your arms. "Let go of me!"
"Oh yeah, this one is definitely new." The new demon lets out a wheezy, breathless chuckle and clutches your back to his chest, holding you in place for the other two to ogle. "You still smell human. Pffft—"
"What does that even mean?" You argue, squirming fruitlessly against the man's— demon's?— clutches. "God, kill yourself!"
"Feisty!" The third demon finally speaks up, giggling excitedly and walking right up to you, cupping your face in his hands. You wince and bite down on his hand, making him shiver pleasurably, much to your repulsion. "Ooh... can we keep it?" He asks the others, and you grunt, making another attempt to rip yourself from the other demon's hold.
"It!?" You repeat furiously, thrashing against the man. "I—"
Abruptly, you are dropped back onto the sidewalk, and the three demons scatter in all different directions. You squint, looking up breathlessly at the source of their sudden fear. A tall, decadent, lanky entity with sharp red eyes and a sharper smile. He pulls the cigarette he's been smoking out of his lips, blowing the smoke down at you, eliciting a cough from your lungs.
"You look lost." The man cooes, kneeling over to take you by the hand. He lifts himself back to his feet, dragging you to yours in the process. "Do you even know where you are?"
"No," You admit quickly, although you're not entirely sure why it came out so effortlessly. Surely, it's safer to lie and say that you know perfectly well what's happening, and yet...? "I was just... I mean, I wasn't here just—"
"You," He begins, putting a tender hand on your cheek and turning your head so that you lock eyes with him. "Are in hell. But don't worry, I'll help you. It's a dangerous place, as you've probably realized." He chuckles menacingly, trailing the hand on your cheek down to your shoulder. "Why don't you come with me?"
———
"This," The man, who you now know as Valentino, pushes open the door to a large, luxurious bedroom. "Will be your room during your stay here. There are clothes in the dressing room," He gestures toward a pair of double doors. "You can simply use Angel Dust's dressing room for the time being. I'm sure he'd be delighted to share." Valentino's grin grows and he trails his hands down to your hips before he gently nudges you toward the double doors. "Return to this room once you're dressed in something less... stained."
You flicker your gaze to your clothes, the same ones that, if you connected the dots, you must have died in. Which is to say an outfit that barely qualifies as clothing, covered and stained with blood, dirt, and other bodily fluids that you'd prefer not to think about.
After all, you're dead now. You don't belong to that pimp anymore— and you certainly don't have to sell your body anymore.
Wandering down the hallway that's just past the double doors, your eyes trace along each dressing room door until you find the one that's decorated with a neon sign reading "Angel Dust" in pink lights. Notably, it's also the biggest door. You take a deep breath and knock on the door
"Ah- I'll uh- be out in a sec Val! I'm just—"
The door swings open and you're met with a tall, spider-like demon wearing a leather leotard with a hole cut out around the chest to show off some fluff that vaguely resembles cleavage. "You're not Val." He says, his shoulders slumping in relief as he raises an eyebrow. "Who are you?"
"I'm Y/N," You begin, glancing around. "The uh... moth told me you'd have clothes I can borrow."
"Oh, fuck." Angel Dust sighs and holds his dressing room door open. "Alright, come in. Make it quick, I'm on in five."
"On what?"
Angel Dust's brows furrow as he follows you inside the room, shutting the door behind him. "Uh. Do you not know where you are or somethin', toots?"
"I know that I'm in hell," You begin, opening up a pair of doors that you assume lead to a closet. When inside, you're greeted with a various array of sex toys, you quickly shut the doors and look back at him. "Brothel? Been there done that, haha—"
"You're in Val's porn studio, babe." Angel Dust grins, gently nudging you out of the way to open up the doors to the actual closet. "Take whateva." His eyes trail over your body, and he stifles another laugh. "You weren't kiddin' about the 'been there, done that', huh?"
"Not at all," You shrug, grabbing an outfit off a hanger. The most "modest" one you can find, which is to say, at least it's long sleeved.
"Well, I'm Angel Dust, obviously." He crosses his bottom pair of arms, using the top pair to shake your hand with two of his own. "You said you're Y/N? So, uh, I take it you just died? Or...?"
"Yeah. I got beat to death." You explain with a small smile.
"Oh-ho! What did ya do?"
"I didn't split profits with my boss and spent all the money on cocaine..." You bite your thumb playfully, forcing down a larger grin. "I mean- it's not anything to be proud of, but I have to imagine he was pissed that I died. I was basically his number one cash earner."
"Oh, man, you have nooo idea how familiar that story sounds." Angel Dust laughs, leaning against the wall.
"Angel Dust!" Valentino's voice rings out from the hall.
Angel Dust pushes himself off the wall and grins. "It was nice meetin' ya, and hey— maybe get outta this shithole while you can, yeah?"
———
The door to the room Valentino had so graciously offered to you creaks open in the dead of night, letting in a stream of fluorescent light from the hall of the studio. You groan and squint, moving to sit up. Valentino, already reaching your bed, gently pushes you back down onto the mattress.
"So sorry to wake you," He cooes, lifting his cigarette from his mouth and blowing the smoke into your face. The smoke spirals and tangles around your senses, blurring your vision. "I've just been thinking," He continues, carefully climbing over your practically limp body, caging you there with his own figure. "I could make you a star. I could make us both so rich. Fame, fortune, a roof over your head— you'll have it all."
He dips his head down until your lips are barely a breath away from his own. That smile that had seemed so charming before, suddenly malicious and perverse. "And I hardly want much in return for the wonders I can give you."
Finally, his lips meet yours, his long tongue darting out to brush against your bottom lip. "You can give me this much, can't you? Small moments such as these in return for fame beyond your wildest imagination? Hmm?"
He raises his head, breaking the kiss prematurely. "Why don't we make a deal?"