Before you knew it, you weee standing in front of Harvard college.
It was an exploding array of towering well-maintained brick buildings, but they were obvious with age, with unremovable dark stains in corners and splatters on walls, tainting the brick, and hard-to-get-rid-of patches of moss rising up in the corners of the buildings.
The air was crisp and fresh, as it was bright and early in the morning (Alastor insisted on waking up early, the old prick), and as the wind whipped softly against your skin you shivered. It was dewy and wet, although it was only autumn.
The iron words Harvard College looked in front of you at the entrance, surrounded by a characteristic brick barrier surrounding the campus. Trees were sparse, from what you could see on the inside, but they were still present, with vermillion and burgundy leaves bursting from the trees with decay and desiccation.
"Do we just..." you began, holding a hand over your arm, tightening as another breeze wafted through the air. "...walk in?"
"Yep!" Alastor exclaimed cheerfully, folding his hands behind his back and putting one foot in front of the other and strolling in like he owned the place. You followed him.
A few students were roaming around, but not many, most, you could assume, in class or at the library or still asleep. You and Alastor navigated through the winding pathways, chattering mindlessly to yourselves as you awaited to stumble upon a building that looked like a very big, important library.
"Do you know where you're going?" you asked, looking around a little nervously. Vox and Valentino could be anywhere.
"No," he said plainly.
"Not at all?"
"No."
"This is a pretty big campus."
"You've got a pretty big mouth, my dear."
Damn.
"Fuck you," you retorted.
"Thank you," Alastor replied, paying you no mind.
"Wellllllcome-!" A new voice interrupted you. You jumped in shock.
"Holy shit, sugar, where did you come from...?" you muttered unintelligibly.
"-to Harvard College!" The stranger said kindly, waving around a pamphlet. He had dirty blond hair and a bright, cheerful smile. He wore casual attire and looked to be an older student, if one at all.
"Who are you?" you said suspiciously.
"My name is Aiden, and you are lucky to find me!" he exclaimed in excitement, doing a little jig. He seemed to always be twitching or moving. How could someone have this much energy at eight-thirty in the morning? Was he on coke? "I am your tour guide!"
Aiden sprung to your side, interlocking your arm with his, his lively energy making you a little ill.
"Ah-ha," Alastor interjected, clearing his throat and smiling broadly. He tilted his head. "We're not new here. In fact, we are third year students—" Alastor swiftly found himself by your side, prying your frozen body away from 'Aiden's. "—so we must be on our way now! Toodaloo!" He waved, trying to pull you away, but was stopped.
"Oh, really?!" said Aiden socially, jogging to catch back up. When he did, he remained in his jog as Alastor walked at a calm pace, dragging you along. "Me too. Do we know each other? I have an eleven-fifteen with Faulkner. You know him? Advanced Bio?"
You could see Alastor's eye twitch.
"No," Alastor said as serenely as possible. "I do not."
"Well, you speak so formal! Are you from England by any chance?" said Aiden, bouncing around so much you were getting a headache. Ugh. Just fuck off already, kid. "No, can't be. You don't have the accent. You sound, like, really old. Ooh, ooh! Are you a time traveler? I've always wanted to meet—"
Alastor snapped his head back, stopping in his tracks. His eyes flamed a neon green, and his smile grew inhumanly large. Mystical green stitches held his smile upward, appearing seemingly out of thin air. You held back a gasp.
The second Alastor's eyes locked with Aiden's, his mouth was sewn shut by those same green stitches.
"Listen, child," said Alastor, his voice sounding chillingly like it did in Hell, static lining his syllables and distorting his words. "I have very thin patience today. My so-called 'arch-nemesis' who is a walking television has somehow conjured himself here from Hell with his whore of an accomplice—" Alastor tilted his head, his neck craning in a demon-like manner, "—so, forgive me, if I do not feel like indulging in your insistent jabbering this fine November morning, lad."
"The arch-nemesis could be anywhereeee..." you sung through gritted teeth. What the fuck is going on? How is Alastor using his powers in the Overworld? You knew something was up when you saw his eyes glow green in the car...
Aiden tried to speak, but could not.
So he could use his powers on Earth... How was that even possible? Unless he acquired them from the Overworld... but you don't know of any other creatures other that Hellish and Heavenly creatures, like Angels and Demons and the Goetia and the Sins and the Exorcists and such...
He had some serious explaining to do.
Aiden was terrified, his skin coating with perspiration, his eyes wide as mountains, his skin as pale as a sheet. He shook violently in fear, and he tried helplessly to speak.
Alastor held his hand up, grinning with his perfect teeth. "Please. Stop it. You know, if you're so determined to speak..." He then locked his attention onto Aiden, his green aura growing stronger. "...then... let's make a deal." He enticingly held out his hand.
The wind picked up around, unreadable neon green symbols floating magically in the air and the ground around you pulsating with electricity. You started to panick.
"Alastor," you whisper-yelled. "Someone will see. The fuck are you doing?"
"No one will see, my dear," Alastor replied calmly. You decided to take his word for it, a little afraid of him right now.
Aiden mumbled, as if asking the conditions of the deal.
"You reclaim your ability to speak," said Alastor smugly, waving his fingers as if seducing the boy into the deal. "If you inform me of the location of the library." Alastor smiled sweetly. Your jaw dropped.
That's it?
"And you give me your soul, of course," Alastor added kindly, and then burst into short, maniacal laughter.
At this point, Aiden had burst into tears, looking around and trying to call for help, but no sound could emerge from him. This only sent Alastor into further hysterics, and despite your undeniable attraction to his psychotic nature, you felt terrible for the boy. He was innocent!
"Do we have a deal?" Alastor insisted.
The boy nodded repetitively, accepting the deal out of sheer terror and desperation.
They shook hands, Alastor's green magic reacting to the action with a burst of energy, and, afterwatds, Alastor lifted the stitches from his mouth, allowing the boy to gasp for air and speak.
"Down.... down there... t-to the left...!" Aiden panted, shakily pointing a finger to your left. Your head turned in the direction, seeing a tall domed building not very far off.
"Lovely," said Alastor simply, his voice rumbling in his chest, back to its human-like sound. The electricity and green light gradually faded.
The boy heaved in terror, looked back at Alastor a few times, and dashed off towards the entrance of the college, running crazily into the road. In just a mere minute, a car whooshed past, and in a huge splat of blood and gore, Aiden was run over.
You covered your mouth and gasped loudly in shock, your eyes growing marginally in disbelief.
"Did he just...-?" you managed out, staring at the bloodstain in the road.
"Mm," Alastor hummed calmly, his hands folded behind his back. "He deserved it. Nature's balance."
Alastor began to walk again, and you did a double-take before jogging to catch up with him, your brain scrambled and all over the place from recent events.
"What the fuck was that, Alastor?" you shouted, not caring who hears. You looked around, becoming more mindful of your volume, before adding, "You just killed that youngin'? And for what?!"
Alastor laughed menacingly, throwing his head back. "Guess we shall be seeing him soon, hm?"
"What the hell, Alastor?" you repeated through gritted teeth. "We don't kill innocents."
"He was a rapist," Alastor said quietly, continuing to walk towards the direction of the library.
"What was that?" you asked angrily.
"He was a rapist, my dear," Alastor turned his head in frustration, yet continuing to walk.
You were at a loss. How would he even know that?
"How would-?" you began to voice your thoughts, but were interrupted.
"And what about that man in the car back at the inn, hm?" countered Alastor, his brows furrowed. "He was quite innocent, was he not?"
You were silenced, unable to provide a suffiencint remark. Finally, you spoke, and at this point, you and Alastor were only a few feet from the library.
"Fine," you said, your mouth dry. "Whatever. You win, sugar. I'm a serial killer." You scoffed, shook your head, and threw your hands up. "As if it makes it any better than I dont usually kill innocents."
"The man in the car wasn't innocent, though," said Alastor knowingly. "He was just about as innocent as that shit stain of a young man who just got himself plowed over by a modern vehicle."
"How would you know that?" you began to ask again as Alastor and you climbed the steps. Alastor tried the main doors, gripping the handles and pulling back. Locked. "And how can you use your powers in the Overworld? How can that be possible? We're not in Hell, we're human! You shouldn't be able to."
"Voodoo, my love," said Alastor quietly, turning back to look at you. "My power does not come from the Hellish realm. It comes from the ancients. From a god."
"What the hell are you talking about?" you said, confused.
"All you need to know," Alastor said, checking a paper pasted with thick clear tape on the inside of the glass door, listing the times and dates the library is open. "Is that it comes within my family. My mother taught it to me. Voodoo comes with sacrifice, which is mainly why I started killing, my dear." Alastor smiled. "Have you not ever noticed the Loa always by my side?"
"The Loa?" you repeated with furrowed brows. "What? You mean the little shadow thing behind you? I never really paid any mind to it."
"Ancestral spirits, they are," explained Alastor shortly. He then waved you off, turing on his heel to parade down the stairs. "Nothing for you to worry about. They are friends of mine, these... 'shadows,' as you call them. Regardless, that's why I have power here in the Overworld. I already was powerful to begin with."
"Why are you telling me this?" you said, following him down the steps. Your brain could hardly wrap around what he was telling you, but slowly, everything was starting to make sense. The green aura, the strange symbols, his mysterious power, his ability to become a powerful Overlord in mere weeks of being in Hell... The stories you had heard about Alastor were all making sense. "Why do you trust me?"
Then, with a whiff of air, an electric green aura in the shape of a collar and chain appeared around your neck, catching you by surprise and causing you to yelp. Your airway was momentarily cut off, making it difficult to breath. Alastor pulled you down the last step, using the mystical chain, and wrapping it around his hand and tightening it. Your face flushed, and he pulled you to his face so close you could feel his breath fanning across your lips.
"Because you are mine, and you know it," he grinned sinisterly. "And even when you get your soul back, dear [Y/N], you know better than the cross me. I'm more powerful that you. I'm stronger than you. I'm better."
You scoffed, the chain loosening around your windpipe from the pressure of it being switched in the back of your neck form him pulling your body weight effortlessly on the chain, allowing you to hang slightly on your heels.
"We've already done this dance, baby," you said with a roll of your eyes. "So you know what I'mma abouta say." You smirked. "But that part about you bein' stronger than me? Rich. You may have been a bad serial killer in New Orleans, but in Kentucky, I was worse." You tangled your slender fingers in his dark hair, pulling him closer and whispering threateningly: "And my power is mine. That's how I became an Overlord so quickly, after all. I don't belong to any man, religion, or god. I belong to myself. And that... That makes me a lot better than you."
Alastor's teeth caught his bottom lip, and grinned wider. He chuckled lowly, at a loss for words. His cheeks were twinged with a bright pink. "Ha... touché, darling."
You grabbed the chain connecting you with Alastor, as if claiming it as your own. You gripped it so tightly your knuckles turned white.
"Remember that, sugar," you said cockily, and the chain disintegrated. The atmosphere calmed, and you began to walk ahead of Alastor. "I'll have my soul back soon anyway, and if we were equal in power right now, we won't be soon, thanks to our little deal." You stopped and turned around, smiling at Alastor sweetly. His brow twitched. "Library's closed, right? Coffee?"