They're still working on that f*cking pool, and Husk gets a massive sense of foreboding every time Charlie gushes about how things are coming along or Angel makes an allusion to his 'beach bod'.
One day there's a commotion somewhere in the hotel – a bassy roar –
(tense, ready to take cover or flee)
– two shrieks -
(someone is suffering)
– the crackle of shadowy static -
(orders coming in the fog)
...
then Alastor manifests in the lobby lugging some mutant fucking shark, still twitching, to his swamp lair
and fuck Husk is clinging to debris; fins circling; scales shredding his legs
or are those teeth teeth teeth…
The Radio Demon finds him afterwards, gasping, pressed into a corner and yanking at his tattered ears.
Alastor does nothing but remain at his side in respectful silence.
Husk hates it, and hates himself for hating it as well.