Hours later, you'd returned to the dreaded hotel. Now you had a bartender, Husk, and a little maid thing that zipped around you making comments about how ladylike you were?
You were confused, but honestly, what did you expect. Barely one day had been spent working with Alastor and he'd already turned the place upside down.
And currently, you were on your tour.
After walking around, pointing out the bathrooms and such, you just ended up strolling around in silence for way longer than you were comfortable with. And just when you were about to open your mouth, Alastor finally spoke up.
"Why this is rather boring. I suggest we play a game to pass the time. What do you think?"
I think this whole tour thing is a load of bullshit. You thought, glaring at the ground.
"Sounds just peachy. Let's play...a questions game, if you're going to be working with me, I might as well get to know you." You grumbled, waiting for him to start.
"I'll begin. How did you end up in hell?" he asked, folding his hands delicately.
"Wow...jumping right in, are we?" you breathed. Alastor just shrugged. "I let some dumb kid starve, so I suppose that makes me a murderer, even though i kept the bread for my own family, so they wouldn't starve." You huffed, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "Either way I guess I was headed here anyway."
He seemed to ponder the thought, before grinning and tapping his chin. "Why was your family starving? Were you homeless?"
"oh, I lived during the great depression. I don't act like it, but I grew up in the south, stuck in the middle of the dust bowl. Life was hard, but things have drastically changed since then." You said, ignoring the twinge of sadness you felt when the thought of your family came back.
"funny coincidence, that's when I lived as well" he mused, strolling along. You'd already known that but played along anyway.
"Really? Small world. I guess we have something in common."
there was this little nagging thought at the back of your mind, squeaking nonsense. What an annoyance.
Go away.
The thought paid no mind, continuing to pester you. A violent shiver went through your body.
"Cold?" Alastor asked
"No. Next question radio shack." You quipped, getting defensive suddenly. "When did you die? what year?"
He smoothed back his hair "1938. I lived through the great depression around age 15." he answered. You kept a straight face, but it still surprised you. "Oh, I didn't realize you were so young...15 years, i was 20...still am," You said in a sympathetic tone. He tilted his head.
Sympathetic...? You questioned your motives. Since when were you sympathetic?
Alastor gave you no time to think over it. "Well, how did you die? I assume it was during the great depression, as you said you were 20,"
You shifted your weight, suddenly uncomfortable "some jackass threw a knife at me in the woods. The coward dragged my body away to do who knows what. Sick bastard" You spat, shivering at the thought of some necrophiliac fucking your dead body.
He chuckled "Murderers were common then, weren't they? Unfortunate, what happened to you dear. My apologies"
You shrugged "that's life. Or...death, I guess. No use dwelling on it. Although A dream of the day I can wrap my hands around the shit heads throat in revenge." You laughed darkly, curling your hands into fists. He gave you a bemused look.
"My turn..." You paused, thinking of a question. "Why do you talk like that? You sound like a crazed radio host"
He smiled (Not that he wasn't already) "Ah, that would be correct my dear. I was the host of a tv show in 1935. I think it was called "That's That" I was allowed to interview people and announce everything. Good times" he said with a pointy grin.
You nodded "Ha. I can't imagine what you looked like in your human form. And as a talk show host, no less. Man, the ladies must have swooned." You laughed. What a sight, a young Radio Demon with his hair slicked back. With suspenders!
Alastor, in turn, cocked his head, "Why would they have swooned?"
You nearly tripped right then and there. Face flushing. You gave him a ruthless punch in the arm as you covered your face with your hands. You were mortified.
"Fuck you! You know what i meant!"
He laughed loudly "Yes! What did you mean?" he asked, peering at your burning face with genuine curiosity. He was the most oblivious thing...oh my god.
"I just let my guard down, is all..." You trailed off, turning away. He shrugged, either ignoring or not noticing your flustered state.
"Goddamn cheeks. All red n'stuff" You grumbled, holding back a laugh.
"Anyways, enough of whatever that was. Next question you mean thing" You huffed playfully.
He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Well, what did you do when you lived?"
"I manned the farms, helped with planting crops and such. It wasn't much, but it was honest work. Actually helped me in more ways than one, I'm super strong now. Long days under the boiling sun, and dry land really does wonders I suppose." You explained.
He nodded "Respectable. I suppose that was hard, living in the Dust Bowl. Did anything even grow?" He asked, genuinely curious.
"Wheat. That's really it. Occasionally we'd try for corn, but it was clear the soil just wasn't right for it. Pa always had a fit when the wind flattened out our wheat field." You reminisced. He never did learn.
"I wonder what they did after I died... It's hard to imagine Ma helped out in the fields. She never liked dirt" You chuckled, words dying out.
You fell into a thick silence, looking at the floor.
It's thoughts like these that you were trying to suppress. All they did was depress you.
it was no use.
(Alastors POV)
When he had first saw (Y/N), he was instantly suspicious of her.
She looked so familiar. It wasn't until she told him of her life in the dust bowl, he realized.
He'd killed her.
Alastor remembered that day.
Spotting a seemingly vulnerable girl on the path through the woods. He just had to, she was so perfect! just ripe for the slaughter...
Even though he was only 15 at the time, he still had a massive murderous streak, skinning small woodland creatures alive.
Nasty work, it was.
She was his first human kill, in fact.
Ah, the memories.
That's why he left the Serial Killer details out of his backstory, he could tell (Y/N) was already suspicious of him. Not to mention he had to gain her trust by asking questions he already knew the answers to...he also had to leave out where he lived. If she knew just how close he was, she would no doubt figure it out. Yes, his story needed tweaking. But he wouldn't get anywhere with the Hotel if (Y/N) held some childish grudge against him the entire time.
This was a very big drawback, seeing as he had already grown attached to the spunky girl.
If she ever figured out who, and what he truly was...
Well, it certainly wouldn't be good.
He peered at her, watching the way she desperately fought back emotions.
thats my fault he realized, he then scolded himself internally.
Stop it. You're a murderer. And they don't get 'attached'.
Even to cute little demons who can feel sympathy for you.
"do you ever miss your family? Alastor?" she asked suddenly, cutting off his train of thought.
He widened his eyes "Well...not necessarily...They were my parents after all, but after all these years, the thought of them often escapes me."
Mother always said you're never fully dressed without a smile.
Mother isn't here right now, Alastor.
He killed his parents.
Age 18.
He was an experienced killer by then, known throughout the masses of midwestern America.
Sometimes he even heard their pleas and screams in his head! Just to add those to his jumbled collection. But in reality, not many things fazed him. He was a serial killer after all, and you can't worry about who will miss who when you're plunging a knife into their chest.
No, I don't miss my parents.
"Not particularly, no."
He felt a small twinge of pity when (Y/N)s face fell.
"It's just a me thing. It's ok to still miss them. I'm just a special case." he scrambled to reassure her.
Ugh, emotions. This is why I never bothered with them.
They had never really been his forte, and he wasn't very experienced with comforting sad people (as if he ever had to comfort the voices in his head).
(Y/N) looked up at him with a timid smile that shook his heart slightly.
What...? I should get that checked out. Is it possible to have a heart condition when you aren't even living?
He offered one in return.
Perhaps he could learn a thing or two about emotions.
...
Hey my sinners >:)
hope you enjoyed, i'll have another chapter out tomorrow probably.
I hope i'm getting alastors personality correct. i want this is be a natural thing, with ups and downs so i'm pacing myself.
{1501 words}