Alastor sprints through bushes, rushing past trees. His breathing is hard as he's running out of breath. Keeping his gaze ahead, he doesn't see a tree root, his foot getting caught in it. He trips, landing hard on his stomach. He turns his head back at the sound of barking and snarls. The pounding of footsteps seem to thunder more with his heartbeat. He manages to push himself up and continues running. His foot steps into a puddle that reflects the bright moon. There's a wall of bushes he has to go through, no other place to run. He pushes through, but he can't see that there's a small ditch on the other side. It's too late to catch himself. He stumbles down the ditch, rolling on his sides and flipping over. He feels a crack at his ankle, causing him to grimace in pain. His right shoulder is also in pain, not able to move it. He struggles to push himself back against the wall of the ditch. His clothes are covered in both blood and dirt now. The barks and thumping steps grow louder. Through the bushes, he can see at least five sets of glowing eyes. It's a pack of about six hunting dogs. They stare down at him, their mouths salivating as they snarl with their canines. Alastor stares back with no hope of escape. This is it. The pack of hunting dogs charges down the ditch toward him. Alastor holds his arms up in defense as they pounce him.
"Alastor!" My voice wakes him up.
Alastor sits up quickly in a panic. He glances around the dim room, panting as beads of sweat roll down the side of his face. He puts a hand to the side of his head.
"It's alright, it alright," I place my hand on his arm. "I'm here. Breathe, breathe."
Alastor listens to me as I breathe calmly with him. Once he's calm enough, he gets back his senses. He turns to me, seeing that I'm hiding my left arm behind my back. His eyes spot trickles of blood on the grey bed sheets that lead to my left arm. I see that he's noticed. He reaches for my left arm and sees three gashes on my forearm.
"Did I–?" His eyes widen at the sight of my bloody arm.
"Alastor, you were…" I'm cut off.
"I hurt you," he's worried. "Damn it!" He grips the sides of his hair as he clenches his jaw.
"I'm alright," I try to reassure him.
"You're bleeding! I did that!" Alastor lowers his head.
I watch as he trembles. This is the first time I see Alastor without a smile.
"I promised I wouldn't hurt you!" He continues. "Now look at what I've done to you! I'm...I'm like my good for nothing father!"
"Alastor!" I grip his forearm. "You are nothing like him. This was an accident. You were having a nightmare. You didn't mean to do this to me."
Alastor keeps trembling as he closes his eyes. I move to sit in front of him between his legs, taking a hold of his face with my hands.
"You didn't mean to hurt me," I gaze into his eyes. "It was an accident, Alastor."
Alastor gazes into my eyes, feeling himself calm down. His breathing steadies after a moment, and I let go of his face. Here we are, sitting naked on the bed in silence.
"You were having a nightmare…" I finally say. "I woke up to you tossing and turning, panting in your sleep. I tried to wake you, but you thrashed your drawn nails at me and scratched me by accident."
Alastor sits in silence as he listens to what happened.
"It must've been a really bad nightmare…" I place my hand on his forearm. "For you to draw out your nails like that in your sleep...whatever it was you were dreaming, it was intense."
Alastor gazes down at his nails, now gone back to normal. A trace of blood is at his fingertips.
"I'm...so sorry…" he's distraught.
"It's alright," I reassure him. "It's just some scratches. Nothing some cleaning up and bandages can't fix!" I give him a smile to help put him at ease.
Alastor stares at my smiling face, feeling more tranquil. Despite him having hurt me, I still manage to keep a happy face for him.
"It's time I tell you…" Alastor finally says.
"Hm?" I raise a brow.
"About how I died."
My eyes widen a bit in surprise.
"You don't have to…" I say.
"No, you deserve to know…" Alastor shakes his head.
He takes a deep breath while I patiently wait for him.
"It was on the night of June 16th, 1933…" Alastor begins. "I had been out in the woods...digging up a hole."
He remembers he hasn't told me about his voodoo sacrifices and decides to leave that for later.
"While I was shoveling, a hunting dog found me," he continues. "It was attracted to a smell on me...so it lunged at me and bit my arm. I managed to pry its jaws off me, but that's when I heard more barks. I realized it was a pack of hunting dogs."
I listen intently as he continues.
"I managed to run off into the woods," Alastor carries on. "But they eventually got to me after I fell in a ditch… The pack of six hunting dogs then attacked me, mauling me alive."
I sit in shock at hearing this.
"After a while of mauling, the owner of the hunting pack finally found us," Alastor continues. "I was practically dead at that point… The pack owner panicked, shocked at what his hunting dogs did… He saw me barely alive, choking on my own blood… So he shot me in the head to put me out of my misery," he presses his fingers on the middle of his forehead where a glowing red scar appears. "Because he didn't want anyone to find out, the hunter decided to bury me….no one ever finding out."
I put my hand to my mouth in shock, saddened at the way he died. Alastor stares at the scars on his arms.
"You're probably wondering what I was doing in the woods…" Alastor says. "This is something that has been troubling me to tell you… To finally reveal how I obtained my powerful abilities here in Hell…" his hand clenches. "I only hope you don't see me any different…"
I stay silent, waiting for him to continue.
"The reason I was out in the woods in the middle of the night…." He says. "Was to bury a body."
I'm surprised. What does he mean?
"The voodoo I practiced during my living life," he continues. "It wasn't just animal sacrifices I performed… I had also performed human sacrifices."
My eyes widen at hearing this.
"That night, I was burying a man I had murdered," Alastor says. "After chopping his body up, I buried him...that's when the pack of dogs found me. The smell of blood got them bloodthirsty. And I was drenched in it… That's why they chased after me."
Alastor turns his head away from me in shame.
"I guess it was the most proper karma for me in the end," he says. "I despise the way I died...but it was a fitting death for all I'd done, I suppose… When I arrived in Hell, I didn't know what was happening. When I finally realized where I was and how much power I possessed, I went on a rampage. I was angered at how I died… and I wanted to showcase my arrival and abilities in Hell, to assert my dominance."
I sit in silence, now putting all the pieces together. It all makes sense to me now. Alastor sees how silent I am and takes it as shock.
"I didn't want to tell you for fear of you changing the way you see me…" Alastor explains. "I was afraid you'd be repulsed by me and change your mind about befriending me… if that's how you feel now, I completely understand."
"No," I finally say.
Alastor looks up at me.
"You murdered people…" I continue. "You used them as sacrifices...but that was during your life as a human. Who I know is the Alastor now… And that's not the kind of person I know you are anymore. At least, not with me."
Alastor stares at me in surprise.
"I fell in love with the Alastor I know now," I say. "What you did in your past… shouldn't reflect how you see yourself now or in the future. You can change for the better, if you truly want to."
Alastor stares at me in awe.
"And if you allow me to…" I continue. "I want to help you… I want to be there for you so you can open up about these things… To become a better you."
Alastor stares at me for a moment before suddenly pulling me into his arms. He hugs me tightly as his body trembles.
"Thank you, Elena…" he softly says. "I want to become a better person...because you inspire me to."
"So that's what the nightmare was?" I ask.
"Yes. I often relive that night in a nightmare…since my arrival in Hell. I suppose it's a form of punishment for what I'd done."
He pulls away a bit, and to my surprise, he's shed a tear. I wipe the tear away with my thumb and gaze into his eyes.
"We can help each other through our turmoils," I give him a soft smile. "We can get through it together."
Alastor recalls his initial plan to betray me. He wants to confess it, to get it off his chest. But he's afraid and chooses not to.
'At least not now…' he thinks to himself. 'I'd rather keep the truth from her and stay this close...than to risk losing her entirely.'
He continues to embrace me as we sit in silence.
"So how many?" I ask.
"Hm?" Alastor and I pull away.
"How many people did you murder?"
Alastor glances away in hesitation.
"There's no need to hide it," I reassure him.
"I lost track…" he answers. "But it's well over 50…"
"Wow… and you were never caught?"
"I was a renowned radio host, loved and trusted by everyone. Not one person suspected me of being a serial killer."
"I'm just curious… How did you choose your victims?"
"There was no particular type...both men and women alike... I did target mostly men who were abusive and violent."
"Because they reminded you of your father?"
"Yes…"
"What do you think could have caused you to do that?"
"I'm not sure...but it seems that killing my father was the catalyst. Ever since I killed him, I wasn't the same anymore… The way his blood and brains splattered all over the wooden floor and wall. I had some of his blood on my hands too. The feeling of taking someone's life away, it was so...exhilarating."
"Perhaps the killing of your father instilled a hatred and need to relive that feeling of killing him. Every kill reminded you of that."
Alastor recalls the sensation he had whenever he had murdered. It was true. Every single time he killed someone, he relived killing his father. He stares at me in thought.
"What?" I ask.
"You seem to understand my psyche rather well," Alastor says.
"Well, I just connect the dots. I do tend to read people rather well, especially once I get to know them better."
"Do you think you got your judgement of character from your angel side?"
"That's a good question. It would make sense...though sometimes that judgement of character fails me," I lightly laugh.
"You're not afraid of me now, are you?" Alastor looks sad.
"No. You've shown me that you won't hurt me… This doesn't change how I feel about you… If anything, it makes me want to help and love you more," I look down with a shy smile.
Alastor reaches for me, pulling me into him. He kisses my forehead, hugging me close.
"Thank you…" he says. "I'm more at ease."
"You're welcome," I kiss his chest. "I'm here for you."
Alastor kisses the top of my head a few times as we embrace each other.
It's morning. Alastor and I have just finished breakfast, now out on a short walk into the woods.
"So what was it like?" I step over a rock. "As a famous radio host?"
"Well, it was rather entertaining, as you'd imagined," Alastor replies. "Everyone knew me almost everywhere I went in New Orleans. It was a noisy lifestyle, to be frank, but I put up with it in order to keep the guise of a polite radio host."
"Didn't it make it more difficult for you to carry on your murders?"
"It was risky on my part, but I played my cards right."
"Even with all that attention, you still didn't find a lady to love?"
"Women did fawn over me, but only for my fame and looks. They weren't genuine at all. Nothing but fake people who surrounded me everyday. It was almost suffocating. I couldn't bear it. I turned to murdering as an outlet, I suppose."
"I guess you were killing time."
"Ha ha ha! That's one way of putting it!"
We continue our trek through the woods.
"What made you get into voodoo?" I ask.
"My father was actually how I got into it," Alastor replies. "He was a cult member of high status. He often would practice it, something my mother didn't approve of… But she had no say in the matter. I was intrigued by the practice and books, often beaten by my father whenever he'd find me with one of his voodoo books."
"Your interest in voodoo started at a young age then."
"Yes, I managed to learn whatever I could as a child, secretly wanting to have powers to one day get rid of my father to live happily with my mother. It worked out differently in the end."
I walk to Alastor's left as we make our way to a large log in our path. Alastor climbs up first, stands on it, and reaches down to help me climb up. I look at Alastor as he climbs down on the other side. He's not wearing his usual red suit outfit. For a walk out in the woods, he's wearing a tan button up dress shirt with overalls attached to brown pants. He's also got brown boots to match. I stare at him, seeing how different and handsome he looks in a new set of clothing. Because he's so comfortable with me now, he doesn't hide his scars. The shirt has a regular collar, and he wears it with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Alastor reaches his hand up to me but sees I'm staring down at him in thought.
"What is it?" He asks.
"Sorry, it's nothing…" I shake my head and take his hand. "I was just thinking."
"About what?" He's curious as he helps me jump down.
"I just…" I shyly look down. "I just think you look handsome in this new set of clothes… it's refreshing compared to your usual red outfit."
Alastor stares at me for a moment. It makes him feel good to know that I don't mind the scars on his body, and that I still find him handsome. He stares at me for a moment with admiration as my attention is on the trees.
"I'm guessing you spent a lot of time in the woods as a kid," I keep walking past him.
"Right you are," Alastor follows me. "It was an escape from my abusive home life. I found a lot of peace in the woods."
We head over to a small cliff that looks over the lake. The cluster of trees with the mountains in the far background is breathtaking. A pair of hawks soars through the sky over us. I move forward, staring out into the beautiful view.
"It really is so nice," I gaze out into the distance. "I can see why you find peace in a place like this."
Alastor stands close to me on my left. The light breeze flutters our hair a bit as we take in the fresh air. Alastor turns to me, watching me gaze out into the view with a soft smile on my face. His eyes then travel to my left forearm where the scratches are. He reaches for my arm, gently caressing over the bandages.
"I'm still so sorry…" he stares down at my arm.
"I know…" I place my right hand on his cheek, lifting his face to me. "We can both agree that I've been through worse," I lightly laugh.
Alastor stares at my smiling face, feeling at ease to see me happy. He holds my face with both his hands as he plants a deep kiss on my mouth. After some time, we pull away.
"Where did that come from?" I'm surprised at how passionate the kiss was.
"Did you like it?" Alastor asks.
"I don't know. Let's try it again," I have a small grin as I pull him into another kiss.
Our passionate kiss continues as we enjoy our moment together on the cliff.
