Alastor had graciously gotten you a change of clothes before you left his home, an old dusty grey t-shirt and comfortable baggy sweatpants. He reassured you almost tauntingly that he would get you a "beautiful little gown that complimented your figure just right," or so he said.
His clothes fit you very loosely, and you fathomed it must be because of his extremely tall body. You were very tall yourself, around five-foot-ten, but he must be six-foot-five or more, you thought.
It wasn't very long until you were forcefully thrust into human civilization. Alastor lived not very far into the woods into an area where the trees became more sparse and a bus stop was present. After waiting a few minutes in a rather awkward silence for the bus to arrive, you took it to the city.
"Alastor," you spoke up, staring out the window at trees and buildings passing by.
"Hmm?" he hummed with a smile.
You rolled your eyes. Annoying ass cunt. "I have a question."
"Ask away, my dear."
"So, where are we even going?" you began, fumbling your hands around to formulate the sentence. "I mean like, where did you live? Y'know... before you.."
"New Orleans, dear [Y/N]!" said Alastor, chipper. "A simply wonderful city, it was in my day. Entertainment appeared past every street corner and there was hardly ever a lack of sexual activity in the most open of places!"
"So how about you, sugar?" you said with a teasing smirk. The bus rumbled softly in the background, the sound calming despite the gnawing feeling of anxiety of your gut knowing you still have to travel across the country with Alastor to retrieve a stupid book — after you get the microphone thingy, of course. "Did you participate?"
He grinned with teeth, but you could see the distaste underneath. "Heavens, no!" He closed his mouth and looked at you with a tilted head. "I'm not one to participate in that sort of thing. Why, do I look like the type?"
"Not really, no," you shrugged with a smile. "But I'm just wondering because..." Your smile faded.
"Why?" Alastor began tauntingly. "Because of our little interaction earlier?" He chortled. "Don't overthink it, darling!"
"How am I supposed to not overthink it?!" you said through closed teeth. "You say that 'you're not one to participate in sex,'" you stopped for a moment, looking to your side at the passengers beside you and Alastor; they weren't paying attention; you continued, whisper-shouting: "But you literally finger-fucked my mouth and I'm supposed to just pretend that didn't happen, Alastor?"
"I'm full of surprises, love," he smirked. "Plus, you truly did seem like you enjoyed it.."
"I-!" your face burned scarlet, anger flooding your bones. "Enjoyed it? You fucking cut me!"
He chuckled, crossing his left leg over his right and leaning back in the bus seat with a sort of superiority. "Regardless, dear [Y/N], we still dislike each other. Remember that. A mere moment means nothing."
You froze. Right. He was right! It did mean nothing... What were you getting so worked up for? Maybe he did that to all the people he played with... but he also said he wasn't very sexual and that he's "full of surprises.." Ugh. My brain hurts.
"What I would give to me anywhere else but fucking here right now," you grumbled, sinking into your seat.
"My, such a mouth on such a pretty young lady," Alastor tutted. "Have you no manners?"
"Y'know, Alastor, honey," you said, your face laced with sarcasm and your blood boiling in the sheer annoyance of this arrogant ass man. "I don't usually curse. I don't ever curse, really. But ever since you came along, I think I've became a changed woman."
"Glad to know I have such an effect on you!" Alastor grinned cockily.
"Oh, you little fu—"
"You know, with all that grace and delicacy you have achieved from your art of ballet and in the way you carry yourself, my darling," Alastor interrupted, "one really would assume you'd be a bit more ladylike. That was my first impression of you, [Y/N], but I think I've begun to see your true colors!"
He was doing it on purpose. He was getting on your nerves on fucking purpose.
"You make me this way, Alastor," you sneered. "You choose to be rude for no reason and demean me constantly. Maybe if you treated me with a little more respect—"
Your words were halted by the bus screeching to a stop and people scrambling to get out of their seats.
"We're here!" Alastor sung cheerfully, feeling successful for getting the worst out of you, and stood up and dusted off his vest.
You let out a grumble and stood up with him, following him out the bus.
Things looked fairly the same as they did when you were alive over a year ago. People wearing revealing outfits, people arguing on the streets, people drinking in the day time, smoking cigarettes, laughing, hanging out, fighting...
"It seems New Orleans has become unfortunately increasingly similar to our home city of Hell!" exclaimed Alastor in observation. He clicked his tongue a little in disappointment. "A little sad, if I must say. In my day, we had parties and celebratory affairs, but we never paraded around showing it off in broad daylight."
"You realize you're just making yourself sound old as shit right?" you huffed, crossing your arms and walking alongside him. People bumped into you left and right, not saying any apologies and one person spilling a little coffee on you.
"Fuck!" you exclaimed, the coffee burning you through the shirt Alastor had lended you. "My shirt!"
Then, right after, another man shoved into you where you had paused dead center on the sidewalk. He was large and bulky with prominent stubble on his chin and hardly any hair.
"Watch it, bitch," he spat, continuing to walk past you.
You were planning to just ignore him and move on, because let's be honest, people have said worse things about you down in Hell simply because you are a powerful Overlord, but Alastor had different plans.
Alastor, towering over the shorter, yet broader man, caught him by his collar and brought his face up to his.
"Hey, man, what the fuck?!" he shouted. You covered your mouth. What the hell was he doing?!
Your eyes trailed down the man's abdomen, and saw Alastor's hunting knife pressed to his lower stomach. Alastor's smile was missing, but as he spoke his next words, it slowly returned sinisterly.
"Apologize to her or I will stick this knife right into your gut, pull out your large intestine, and stick it so far down your fucking throat it'll fall out of your ass."
Holy fuck.
"Hey, hey, hey, chill man," the larger guy said, frightened. He then turned to you and then back to Alastor. "Hey, hey, I'm sorry, okay? It was my fault. I'm sorry." He had perspiration building on his forehead.
Alastor, still infuriated, was in a sort of trance, not listening to the man's rushed apologies and cries for mercy and he slowly dug the weapon into his gut, the tip piercing his skin. The man yelped. "Fuck!"
"Alastor!" you scolded, finally deciding to intervene. "Let him go. We're not in Hell anymore. You can't just go around stabbing innocent people."
"He's far from innocent," said Alastor, releasing the man and shoving him out onto the street. The man clutched his stomach and ran off as fast as he could, barrelling people down along the way. Alastor cleared his throat and pocketed his hunting knife, readjusting his bow tie. "And remember, my dear, we don't have to be in Hell to have a little fun."
"By fun do you mean killing people?" you whisper-yelled, you and Alastor finally getting back into a steady-paced walk. Thankfully, as you looked around the street, nobody seemed to pay any mind to Alastor's little conundrum.
"Well of course, I do!" said Alastor, his genuine smile finally returning. Then, he looked sincerely confused. "What else would I mean?"
Ugh. You seriously regretting telling him that you've killed people before. Now, he's going to act like an idiot and expect you to just parade around with him and murder people like it's nothing.
"That's not why we're here, Alastor," you reminded him. "We're here — I'm here to help you get your knife and microphone and stupid old ass book or whatever you need and then I'm getting my soul back. I've killed enough people for one lifetime."
"But, darling, that was your first lifetime!" said Alastor, raising his finger for emphasis. "Why not make the second even better?"
"No," you said dryly.
"I tell you what," said Alastor as the two of you turned a corner, the road you turned into surrounded by run-down, old-fashioned looking brick buildings, all tall at different levels. "Help me get rid of an old buddy on our way to Massachusetts, and I'll shut up about it!"
"You'll stop threatening people on the street if I help you kill one person?"
"That's what I said!"
"Fine," you huffed.
"Good, good!" Alastor exclaimed, giving you a friendly pat on the back. Then his eyes clouded over darkly. His smile was terrifyingly large for a human face. "Not that you'd have a choice anyway.."
"Hm?" you said, not quite hearing him right.
"Nothing, my dear, simply nothing!" Alastor waved you off. Then, a tall, old, looming building came into view. It had an old, dead LED sign on the very top extending from the building reading "ON AIR" that looked like it was about to rot off and fall to the ground. The building was hardly impressive, but you're sure it looked better in Alastor's time.
"I'm guessing this is it?" you asked.
Alastor said nothing, his hands folded behind his back as he rummaged through some decorative, stick-ridden dead bushes in front of the building, and then opening a tiny box buried under some dirt. Inside it was a spare key to the building. "Glad this is still here."
Alastor unlocked the door to the building and held the door for you to walk inside. Of course he was being a fucking gentleman. You entered and the smell of dust and rotting wood immediately flooded your nostrils. Alastor came in after you and let the door go shut on its own.
That's when you saw a quite peculiar man sitting at the front desk.