"Okay," you said, exhaling shakily. "Let's do this."
Alastor sat criss-crossed in front of you, nose dug into the ritual book, face scrunched from the aged smell that wafted into the air. You had slipped on the dress he got for you earlier, the material a little itchy, but you felt beautiful in it nonetheless. Alastor's radio tower always smelt a little stale, but the ancient book overpowered the dormant scent. You smiled a bit. No matter how nervous you were, you could admit that he looked rather cute.
"It says here we need a pentagram of the participants blood..." muttered Alastor, deeply concentrated. His eyes scanned the page, his left eye moving behind his red-tinted monocle. "...and the sacrificial objects at each point of the star."
You nodded. "...Alrighty."
Alastor smiled, gently placing the book down and digging through his coat pocket. He produced his old rusty hunting knife. You watched attentively as he slowly brought his wrist to his face, clamping his teeth around his cuff and pulling it down. You stiffened uncomfortably. He was doing that on purpose, wasn't he?
He then slowly moved over to his glove, nibbling on the middle finger of the cloth and gradually pulling it off, spitting it out into the floor.
Once his sleeve was rolled up and his glove was removed, Alastor offered you his bare, gray-skinned wrist of his left arm and pointed the blade with his right. You quirked a brow.
"Wouldn't want to ruin my coat," he said smugly. "Or my glove. Care to do the honors, my lady?"
You rolled your eyes, quickly taking the knife and holding his hand gently, slowly dragging the blade across his skin. It made a squelching sound as it entered his skin. He recoiled slightly and his teeth caught his bottom lip. He sighed a quivering sigh, watching breathlessly as you injured him.
"Done," you said simply, retracting the knife. He flipped his bleeding wrist around, the blood ebony and shiny, and he applied pressure to the sides of the wound to motivate it to bleed more profusely. He allowed the flood to fall on the floor in the middle of the two of you.
"Your turn," Alastor smiled, wrist still sticking out as he looked up to you. The interaction was almost childish.
You huffed and quickly slit your own wrist without flinching, copying Alastor and squeezing the blood out. Your blood was slightly darker than his, and as the concoction mixed into itself on the floor, it sizzled a neon green gas that smelled like death, blood, pine, vanilla, and pomegranate all at once.
You bent back from the intense, confusing smell. "The fuck...?"
"The gas is a product of the bond, I'm assuming," observed Alastor, still smiling.
You looked away, pulling your wrist inward and caressing it when you thought you had given enough blood.
Alastor took his slender, bare finger and dipped it into the puddle of mixed blood. He brought it to his mouth, slumping in delight at the taste.
You looked at him in shock. "Alastor," you scolded. "This is for the ritual, dumbass. Not a late night snack."
He chuckled, removing his finger with a pop sound, and you caught a glimpse of his split gray tongue. "Apologies, my dear. I just couldn't resist."
You rolled your eyes again and leaned forward and all fours, dipping a finger into the blood and dragging it out, forming a circle. Then, you messily drew a star in the center, forming a pentagram shape.
"Not the artist, I see," said Alastor in amusement.
"I dance, honey," you spat. "Not draw."
Alastor hummed and picked the book back up again, eyes moving down the page as you simultaneously gathered the discarded hunting knife and the old microphone which was already out on the floor, placing them both on opposite sides of the pentagram. You then returned to your original position, folding your hands neatly over your lap as you waited for Alastor to finish reading.
"So a pentagram, huh?" you said, deciding to strike up conversation. "This ritual originates from Hell, doesn't it? From here.." Your hand cusped your chin. "Wonder who designed it."
"There are witches here, you know," said Alastor, eyes never detaching from the book. "I don't know much about them myself, dear, but they have special abilities on Earth. They've pretty much died out now, only a couple of hundreds left in Hell today." Alastor shrugged. "God knows where they are now."
"So the witches made it?"
"Most likely."
You crossed your arms. "Never seen or heard of a witch before in my life."
"Me either, my love," agreed Alastor. "But there are all sorts of Sinners and Demons and creatures alike dwelling down here, creatures that nobody has probably even heard about." He finally looked up, smiling gently. "Well, if your Wampus entity exists beyond the realm of Hell, who knows what else is out there, much less here?"
"And your voodoo gods," you added, muttering.
Alastor hummed in response, and then finally placed the book down. "Alright. Now we just have to recite an old Latin chant a couple of times and it should work."
"Are you sure about this?" you said cautiously. He nodded, sticking out his hands for you to take. You held his hands, leaning forward a little to do so. "I mean, how do we even know this will do anything? What if you were lied to about all this? What've this is all a big joke?"
"I do not think Rosie would lie to me about this, my darling," said Alastor kindly. "She's not perfect, and she has her faults, but she is not a liar."
You rolled your eyes, admittedly a little jealous of the way he spoke about her. Alastor noticed and tilted his head curiously, but ultimately did not comment on it.
"Okay," you said eventually. "What's the chant?"
"Vi naturae, quae Coelum et Inferum connectit, et oblatis oblatis, potentiam tuam, Universum, rogamus, supplicare."
Your mouth dropped. "How...-?! I..." Uou couldn't fine the words. "How did you remember all of that so quickly?"
Alastor shrugged nonchalantly. "I took a little Latin in my brief visit to college." He waved. "Nothing to be surprised about, my dear! And I just have a very sufficient memory."
It was very much to be surprised about, but you decided to bite your tongue. You sighed. "I... Can I just read from the book..?"
Wordlessly and simpering, Alastor slid the book over to you, avoiding damaging the blood pentagram, and you peered over at it, scanning the words and simply praying your pronounced rhem correctly.
"Okay," you said, once you felt prepared. You gave a sidelong glance to Alastor. "Ready?"
He nodded.
You took a deep sigh, and began to chant with him, his radio-static, transatlantic voice conflicting with your Southern, melodic one. But they didn't conflict in a cacophonous way, but in fact, in a manner that perhaps seemed like you were performing a duet together.
"Vi naturae, quae Coelum et Inferum connectit, et oblatis oblatis, potentiam tuam, Universum, rogamus, supplicare."
"Vi naturae, quae Coelum et Inferum connectit, et oblatis oblatis, potentiam tuam, Universum, rogamus, supplicare."
"Vi naturae, quae Coelum et Inferum connectit, et oblatis oblatis, potentiam tuam, Universum, rogamus, supplicare."
The blood began to glow green and pink, the hues swirling around each other beautifully, the sight to mesmerizing you almost forgot you were chanting. The hunting knife and the microphone began to levitate, and the book began to vibrate.
Your breath hitched, but you didn't stop. You glanced out the corner of your eye, still chanting. Alastor was enveloped with a bright green aura, and his smile was strained, as if he was in pain.
That's when you paused. Fearful for him, you spoke quietly: "Alastor..?"
"I-I'm.. fine," he managed out, breaths labored. "Keep... keep going."
Worried, but determined to get this over with, you shut your eyes so you wouldn't have to look at him in pain, and went on with chanting alongside him.
"Vi naturae, quae Coelum et Inferum connectit, et oblatis oblatis, potentiam tuam, Universum, rogamus, supplicare."
"Vi naturae, quae Coelum et Inferum connectit, et oblatis oblatis, potentiam tuam, Universum, rogamus, supplicare."
"Vi naturae, quae Coelum et Inferum connectit, et oblatis oblatis, potentiam tuam, Universum, rogamus, supplicare."
"Vi naturae, quae Coelum et Inferum connectit, et oblatis oblatis, potentiam tuam, Universum, rogamus, supplicare!"
Then, everything stopped.
And Alastor collapsed.
You gasped softly and crawled over to him, the sounds of the objects clattering on the ground filling your ears. Your eyes burned and you couldn't breathe for a moment, hand gripping his shoulder and shaking him.
"Alastor?" you said in sheer terror, his body motionless on the ground. Your heart pounded relentlessly, blood pumping through your veins at a rapid pace, making the wound on your wrist sting with an unbelievable pain. "Alastor!"
Oh my God, he's fucking dead.. No no no no, I knew this was a bad idea!
"Alastor?" you called again, voice wavering. "Are you okay? Please..." You were beginning to hyperventilate. He was deathly pale, more than he already was, and his body was enveloped in a cold sweat. His smile was gone and his eyes were shut.
Until they weren't. His eyes snapped open, blaring a blinding neon green, and his yellow grin overtook his face in a millisecond. He dissipated into thin air, into a puff of green smoke. You yelped and jumped back, head whipping around rapidly to see where he went.
"Boo."
You screamed and crawled away from him. Your blood ran cold and your heart palpitated from the shock, your eyes wide as you stared up at him. He was cackling in extreme entertainment, his head bending back and his hand clutching his chest. He wiped a fake tear from his eye, and you flared at him furiously.
"What the fuck?!" you said, enraged. You stumbled up off the floor, using the desk for support. "I thought you were fuckin' dead! How..-?!"
"Ah, hah, haaah!" Alastor laughed, "but I am fine, little fawn..." He disappeared into thin air again, materializing behind you this time, and it took you hot minute to even realize he was there. When you did, you felt his cold fingers dancing upon your shoulders and his hot mouth by your ear. "Can't you see?"
You shuddered and jerked away, flustered. You jabbed a finger into his chest. "Don't ever do that again. Ever."
"Ah! But it was so entertaining," he grinned. "Hoh! You should have seen the look on your face." He tilted his head, holding your chin up with one slim finger. "I never thought you cared about me that much."
You scoffed, swatting him away. He walked off, hands behind his back, staring out the window into the maroon night of Hell. "So I'm assuming the ritual worked? You seem awful... peppy."
"Oh, I feel fantastic, my dear!" exclaimed Alastor, craning his head unnaturally to look at you. His grin broadened inhumanly, his eyes widening and becoming radio dials, his neck snapping as green symbols and stitched appeared around him and littered his skin. "Simply... powerful."
"Well, good for you," you said bluntly, crossing your arms. You stuck out your hand. "Now gimme my soul back, Al."
He returned back to his usual state, twirling his staff around in his hand, smiling gentlemanly-like. He took a few steps towards you and pretending to ponder. "Okay!" he said finally, chipper.
You raised a brow, off-put by his elated behavior. You took it for a power-high and shrugged it off. "..O...kay..?"
Alastor raised his hand snapped his finger, and all of a sudden, it's like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You exhaled the biggest breath you had ever held in your life, and your eyes widened as you fell to your knees from the pleasure.
You looked at your hands, your hands that shook from anticipation and excitement. You slowly turned your head around, cautiously staring at your reflection in the windows of the recording studio.
Instead of your eyes usually both being blacked out, only one was. The other was completely baby pink, the iris it's usual striking yellow.
You were so close. Almost free.
"That felt good, didn't it, dear [Y/N]?" observed Alastor in amusement.
All you could do was nod, nod very, very slowly. Then, a smile gradually broke upon your face as you looked in the mirror. Your vision grew staticky and distorted, glitching and faltering.
You watched yourself through eyes that felt like they did not belong to you, watching as your smile broadened to an insane amount, watched as your limbs lengthened demonically, could only observe as your teeth grew larger and more sharp and a deep gold hue. You couldn't control yourself as you began to giggle, and then you laughed, and then you were hysterical. Your eyes glowed a blinding magenta, and the ears atop your head lengthened. A tail sprouted from your lower back, long and furry, and your hair color softened to a pale brown color, contrary to its usual dark brunette, almost-black, appearance. Your nose became button-like and black, like an animal's nose, and your body was so skinny that you felt like some sort of demonic stick creature, a very evil creature..
"Mhmhmhmhmmm," you let out. "Mhmhhahahahshhaaaaaa!" But the voice was not your own.
"...[Y/N]?" Alastor's voice was not its previous dapper, chipper sound. He was afraid. He should be.
You grabbed the desk, your claws long and black and humongous. You ripped the wood, splinters digging into your skin, but you didn't care. You didn't notice. You took a backseat to your own body, a backseat to your own demise, as your head snapped completely back, body still forward.
"It's so nice to finally meet you," you said, voice high-pitched and wailing. "Alastor."