hey, guess who fell in love with another series

This story was a spur of the moment and quite quick to be thought out, and it's "torture the radio boy", so I gonna have some fun.

This was also inspired by SkipBack's Hotel of Shadow AU, so read that if you will.

Now, let's get to the story, eh?

As always, please read, enjoy and review.

How many years had it been?

Alastor didn't really care, as he remained still in his hotel room.

It had been at least a few years since the hotel had been in operation, and as long as he was monitoring said hotel. It had been expanded to help accommodate numerous guests amongst its near warped levels. It also served as a partial hospital for a brief period after the exterminations.

Contrary to his (and in all honesty, everyone else's) beliefs, the hotel was successful. There were actual sinners that were able to be redeemed and served to a point that the hotel could be a success.

On the other hand, the redeeming was quite uncommon given a majority of the hotel residents were only there for the free food and rooms.

However, it was still technically a success. Alastor was fine with that.

At this point in time, he was simply lounging around in his room.

He could be doing anything, like playing some musical instrument, or just wreaking havoc in general.

No, Alastor was mostly doing nothing.

He wasn't sure why he ws doing nothing when Hell had so much to offer. Maybe it was because something was off recently.

Without anything that he would consider entertaining, he made the decision to simply check his luggage.

Since he had his own room in the hotel, he was able to stay for as long he liked. However, he hadn't exactly unpacked everything other than the basic necessities or whatever he felt like using.

After digging through a bag of clothing and nothing more, he came across something he had a very vague memory of.

The item in question was a well kept and good condition large box that looked it would be in World War 1. Alastor was initially reluctant to open it as he had no idea what it was.

But he was very powerful, so what was there to worry?

As soon as he managed to get the box open, he had to stare in awe.

Inside the box were stacks upon stacks of vinyl records all wrapped in their album covers. He recognized a few. Some notable jazz musicians that he grew up with, some jazz musicians he didn't recognize and the ones that seemed be not jazz such as acoustic albums and more orchestral pieces.

Alastor grabbed the one that was the most jarring amongst the collection.

It was a mostly yellow colour with the exception of a black minimalist radio tower in the center.

The musician's name also struck a chord within the Radio Demon.

"Idosing." he mumbled to himself as he read the typewriter font at the corner of the cover.

Idosing was a name that seemed familiar to him. Was it someone he knew?

Digging through the vinyls (delicately), he found that there were about 13 albums from said musician.

What was it about this musician that attracted Alastor?

He made the search for a record player around his room, and after what felt like a hour of searching, he found an otherwise modern record player and a pair of earphones.

Now, he never cared for modern technology and thought that they were a bit tedious. However, this was the only exception that actually benefited him. Being able to have the music essentially blast into his ears was an experience like no other.

Once he managed to set up everything on his dresser next to him, the Radio Demon lied down on his bed.

With only his hand moving, he placed the needle down onto the record.

Now, there wasn't exactly a word that could the describe the moment. The best way was through a phrase.

Alastor felt he was hit by a train.

Near distorted electric guitars and bass filled his ears that essentially exploded in his head and made Alastor nearly jump out of his bed.

And with that, he understood that Idosing was a rock musician. No doubt about it.

Now, he had never really cared for the genre in general. He personally thought that it was mostly noise and a bunch of screaming.

But this? This was a entirely different than the usually radio noise that he knew from numerous sources.

Sure, you had the electric guitars, bass and the pounding drums that Alastor would normally consider stupid distortion, but it strangely made him focus towards the instrumentation. A single thought grazed his mind that completely contradicted his mind.

This man can play.

And when the musician's voice kicked in, he was out... in a way.

Idosing had a voice that could high notes and gravely lows and a near perfect flow with the instrumentation behind him. It was mesmerizing hearing him sing in a thoughtful and purely emotional manner.

Alastor wasn't even sure he was listening to a single song anymore. He was probably on the next one but was mostly too into the noise. He lied there for around a few minutes at minimum.

Then, the heavy rock music stopped, being replaced with audio of birds chirping and leaves rustling.

Alastor was initially intrigued as the footsteps of someone walking on grass began sounding closer.

Then, the soft notes of an piano brought him back into reality. This went on for a minute or so, until the song picked itself up.

"I remember,
The day the bridge was bombed.
Amongst white silence,
And unfortunate soldiers."

As Alastor heard Idosing sing those few words, his perpetual smile almost faded.

"As I hear,
That the pestilence continues to prevail,
An attempt to defilade,
Has failed."

If anyone managed to see Alastor in his current state, they would be utterly confused. He had a faltering soft smile, as tears ran down his cheeks.

Alastor was trying to burst into tears as the lyrics cut into his skin.

"You've jumped into sleep,
And many have fallen off this mind.
The dark circles of Hell,
Are just bags under my eyes."

The instrumentation burst into chorus, sending a whimper out of the Radio Demon.

"Unfortunately,
Eventually we decompose,
It was time,
For you to depart,
Destination, stairway.
When I go,
Chances are,
I'm heading, to the freeway."

Idosing sung in a higher and more emotional tone for the chorus, and it finally sent Alastor over the edge. A smile that would be used to express sympathy slowly brought him into a slight shaking state, trying to keep his composure.

As the song continued, soft whimpers exited his lips. Tears were running down his face and neck as the song grew in intensity.

When the song was over, he plucked the earphones out of his ears and pulled the needle of the record player. He gently placed everything back where it was minutes prior. Once that was over, he quickly entered the bathroom.

Looking at the mirror, Alastor was a mess. Dried tears were enveloped down his cheeks and neck. With the sink running, he washed his face swiftly.

Alastor let out an exasperated sigh, as he closed the faucet. He looked at the mirror again only to realized that he wasn't smiling, having a neutral expression on his face.

He forced himself to smile, revealing his sharp teeth into the mirror. But he could see that it was faltering.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he gritted his teeth as a memory slowly emerged from his subconscious.

He remembered who Idosing was now.

Hell, 2005

Alastor walked quietly around the small quiet area of Pentgram City.

This particular part of Pentagram City was originally a small safe haven for newer sinners to hide. But with the recent exterminations, operations have shifted to an unknown part of the city.

Why was the Radio Demon here?

Mostly he wanted to find any unfortunate souls to torture, but given that everyone had left town, he was walking a ghost town.

But the soft strums of an acoustic guitar caught his attention. There was someone here.

As he followed the direction of the music, the sound of singing also began to be clearer as he got closer.

Soon enough, he arrived at what looked like an amphitheater.

Entering the venue, he looked at the stage to see the musician.

From what he could see, the musician was male judging from his appearance. He had a sort of zebra motif to him, wearing a zebra striped coat and tufts of ears similar to his own. Small strands of white hair donned in a line in the center of his jet black hair. He wore a pair of sunglasses, one side with a white frame and black lens, and the other a black frame and white tinted lens.

In terms of what he was doing, he was singing by himself as he sat on a wooden stool. However, behind him two acoustic guitars played like being played by ghosts, with noticable plucking.

Alastor remained still, observing the phenomenon in front of him.

Trying to sing along would be impossible, given the nearly incomprehensible lyrics that the musician was singing.

The song ended, and Alastor clapped wholeheartedly, directing the musician's attention to him.

The musician tilted his head in confusion as Alastor smiled at him.

"Hello there!" Alastor spoke up, "What's a person like you doing here?"

"Well, with what's currently happening, I don't know.", the musician said. His voice was somewhere between slurred and direct.

"What's your name?" Alastor perked up.

"Idosing." he said as he jumped down the stage.

"Hm?"

"I-D-O-S-I-N-G."

"I do sing?"

"I-doh-sing."

"Strange name, especially for a musician." Alastor responded.

"Says the Radio Demon." Idosing said.

"You know who I am?"

"Yeah, that voice has been ingrained into my mind. But you seem of the kind that would fuck me over in a heartbeat." said as he jumped down the stage.

"Maybe." Alastor spoke as he partially unleashed his demon form as a threat.

Idosing, however, was completely unfazed, confusing the deer demon.

"Yeah, Alastor. I don't really care for that shit."

Alastor wasn't sure if it was real or not, but for a very brief moment, Idosing appeared to glitch, with a pitch black aura surrounding him. His neck appeared to have broken or ripped so that his temple rested on his shoulder. His sunglasses were partially moved to reveal his left eye, which showed a black void with a misshapen white orb for an eye. Alongside that, a very brief jolt of white noise and ringing filled his ears.

He almost jumped, but as quick as it happened, everything returned to normal.

"Let's pretend that never happened." Idosing stated bluntly.

Well, that confirmed the glitching did happen.

"You seem like a nice fellow. Sorry for any wrong assumptions you may have." Alastor spoke cheerfully.

He put his hand out, "I can make you into a superstar, like you did back in your previous life."

"Do we have a deal?" Alastor said as his hand glowed green flames.

Idosing put his hand slowly, almost willing to accept it...

...only to slap it away.

"Yeah, Mr. Transatlantic, like that's gonna sell it." he said as he turned around and walked away.

As for Alastor, he was utterly dumbfounded. Nobody was not scared of him and nobody would even dare to refuse deals.

"Just what games are you trying to play?" Alastor said with confusion.

Without warning, a knife was thrown towards him and somehow stopped in mid air, mere centimeters from his face.

"Be glad you're lucky." Idosing shouted from across the ampitheatre.

The knife dropped to the ground just in front of him. He grabbed it, realizing it was a butterfly knife. Its blade shined familarly, a tinted white glow.

Then realization struck Alastor.

Somehow, Idosing managed to forge a angel's spear into the average pocketknife, something that no demon had done. Sure, demons have used angel spears before but no one dared to forge them into weapons.

"Like what you see?" Idosing said, now in front of Alastor.

Alastor could do nothing except stare in awe.

"What's wrong dear?" Idosing said in a Transatlantic impression.

Alastor realized his smile was a bit less enthusiastic.

"I understand that weapon may seem like I am powerful. But don't worry, I won't hurt someone unless I wanted to."

Alastor chuckled, "So, this is what you do other than music?"

"Alongside a musician, I was a hitman, though for a brief few years, and I had my M.O of things."

Idosing soon smiled, one that could rival his own.

"This isn't a deal, but I can work for you. Murder, robbery or any other crime that the law doesn't obligate, I can handle cleanly."
Alastor smiled, "So, we have an agreement?"

Their hands appeared to be enveloped in flames, Alastor being green coloured, while Idosing was a pure blinding white.

They shook hands, all while grinning menacingly.

Alastor wasn't sure what he was feeling.

He was in a great mood now, smiling a bit more coyly. However, he had a very strange feeling.

It was somehow this weird respect for Idosing, almost like he was a best friend. But as far as he was concerned, his only friends were Husk and Niffty.

So why he had forgotten he had another one?

The memory of what was their first meeting seemed so unfamiliar, but familiar in its own way.

Alastor quickly handled his emotions and continued smiling, focusing on his good mood.

With that, he exited his hotel room (Room 613) and bumped into Charlie.

"Oops, sorry." Charlie said.

"Oh, don't worry, it was an accident." Alastor spoke in his cheery radio host voice.

"Oh, yeah." Charlie made a quick expression of confidence, "I actually wanted to find you."

"Why is that, dear?"

"Well, you've been missing, at least we thought you were, for the past half an hour."

"Oh, sorry. I just found some jazz records and I listened to one in full, I guess."

"Oh, that makes sense." Charlie quickly turned around, "I'll see you for the dinner reception tonight."

"No need to fret. I'll be there." Alastor replied.

Alastor quickly entered his room, without saying a word. He had listened to the entire album, without realizing it?

The Radio Demon slowly heaved a sigh. This was a mistake, but a minor one fortunately.

Hopefully, it doesn't get worse than this.