Chapter II: Something Different

Dinnertime rolled around and everyone was gathered in the dining room while Alastor manipulated shadows to bring in everyone's meals, the plates were piled with jambalaya, except one seemed to be missing.

"Hey, Alastor, where's my plate?" Angel Dust asked.

"Well, since you were the first one to make any remark on my cooking, I figured that you should give this a try: Crawfish Étouffée!" Alastor announced as he personally presented Angel his plate. It did look a bit fancier than the jambalaya everyone else was eating.

Angel Dust took a taste: "Mmm, pretty damn good, Smiles."

"It does smell good," Vaggie admitted.

Alastor tipped his head and took his leave. He usually preferred to eat alone.

"Angel, I think what you said to him earlier really stuck with him," Charlie stated.

"Ya think?"

"Well, he did make you a special meal for you... Perhaps you should do something nice for each other. It should help you make your way closer to redemption, and something like that was already on my plans for rehabilitation anyway," Charlie explained.

"Also, if you can get him to do some more nice things, he might shift his perspective in our cause, and maybe we can get him to change for the better too," Vaggie added. She still didn't trust the guy.

"Ha, you two don't know that son of a bitch! Alastor ain't lookin' for redemption, not when he's got the power and credibility to terrify the better part of Hell," Husk grumbled - with a slight sense of amusement.

"So, ya're askin' me to do something nice for Smiles, see if I can get him to come around, eh? Toots, ya might as well be tryin' to set me up on a blind date wit' the guy," Angel Dust told Vaggie.

"What, you don't like him, or do you not think that you can do it?" Vaggie asked.

Angel Dust took a couple more bites out of his meal: "Alright, I'll invite the sheik* out to lunch tomorrow, but I'm not gonna promise ya anything, and do you have any cash to spare for it? I'm pretty sure that taking Smiles out would cost more than a five spot."

Angel Dust spoke in a way to let the girls know that he came from a crime family.

"We'll give you some money, all you have to do is make sure that Alastor has a good time, and to keep from sinning," Charlie told him.

"Alright, I'll invite him once I'm done eating. If he accepts, I'll get all dolled up for the occasion."

Ω Ω Ω

Alastor was reading a book while letting music play around him, when he heard a knock on his door. He was a bit surprised to find that it was Angel Dust.

"Oh, I was expecting you to be Charlie. What brings you here, Angel Dust? Come to make a deal?"

"I came to make an offer," he replied.

"Well, let's hear it then."

"Tonight's dinner was excellent; and after a little deliberation, I decided that I want to return the favor. I'm going out tomorrow and I'll buy you lunch and have a nice chat if you come with me."

"Hmm, this could be rather entertaining, I accept your offer," Alastor replied.

"Alright, we'll head out before noon," Angel Dust told him, and then bid him a good night.

Ω Ω Ω

The next morning, Angel Dust got dressed in a rather smart looking dress inspired by the late 1920's, when he got down to the lobby, Alastor was a bit taken aback.

"So, you do have a flair for smart dress," he remarked.

"I was just makin' sure you knew that you weren't going to be out with some back-alley whore for the day."

"Very well then," Alastor replied, and - like the gentleman he saw himself as - he opened the main door for Angel Dust: "Did you have a particular place in mind to go to?"

"Actually, I was hoping that you knew a place, a lot of where I ended up eating also happen to double up as strip clubs."

"Oh, that won't do at all! I've never developed a taste for the burlesque shows... I do know a place that serves some fine venison though."

Wait, ain't he a deer demon? Angel Dust thought, but if he was going to do something nice for the guy, he might as well not argue with him.

Ω Ω Ω

The restaurant was a little quiet for the moment and looked classy with a subtle vibe. The wait staff were all nervous when Alastor entered and they looked at Angel Dust as if they were looking at a double-dead man walking.

When their waiter handed them their menus, his hands were shaking: "C-Can I get y-you and your c-company something to drink, sir?"

"Actually, Angel here is the one treating me," Alastor explained.

The waiter looked to Angel Dust with wide eyes.

"Get Alastor his usual drink, and a Negroni for me,"

"Vieux Carré, and a Negroni... Excellent choices, uh... sir?" the waiter replied. He took the order and hurried off.

There were a couple seconds of silence before Alastor asked: "So, how did you end up at Charlie's hotel?"

"Ya up for a long story?"

"Our waiter will not be back too quickly with those drinks."

"Alright... I was in a tough spot with my boss, Valentino; while I was supposed to be at the porn studio I was actually out trying to settle a deal with some sharks, they tried to pull a sad tough guy act on me 'cause I was the one trying to settle the deal for him, and I ended up blowin' them all down* with my gats* and bean shooters*. I collected the goods and the boss picked me up in his car, he wasn't too happy 'cause I wasn't in the studio. So, he has the driver pull that jalopy of his over and tells me to sell my ass on the corner," Angel Dust started.

"Ugh, such ill taste for all around."

"Yeah, but that's where Charlie and Vaggie rolled up and they paid me just to hear them out. Well, though I'm not putting too much hope that this experiment of theirs is going to work, the free rent sounded good."

"Do you believe that you can be redeemed"

"I'm not sure... I know that with the life I lived I deserve to be here, but I don't know if I deserve to spend all eternity here. When you grow up in a crime family, you don't see many options to just up and leave to start a new life. They don't want you to risk becoming a stool pigeon*."

"I'm afraid that I don't know all that much about the mafia life. I do remember doing a broadcast in 1931 detailing that Capone was sentenced. You should fill me in on what it was really like."

"For starters, I was in a different outfit. I still grew up in a family surrounded by a bunch of tough guys, guns, dead people, and sassy women; though we were pretty close. Papa had my uncles train me to use firearms, and he himself taught me how to handle deals. We dealt in a lot of firearms, drugs, hooch - though that reached full swing only during prohibition, and the occasional hit."

"Sure sounds interesting," Alastor spoke. By this time, the waiter had returned with drinks. He was mostly ignored until he asked for their order:

"The venison, of course," Alastor told him.

"Yeah, I'll take the top sirloin," Angel Dust spoke. Again, the waiter hurried off.

"Now, you were telling me about your life with the mafia."

"What I've already told you pretty much sums it up. As for my life, it was all fun until I became the family disappointment for being gay - having no interest in marrying some broad to give ma and pops grandkids - then you turn to drugs 'cause no one accepts you, and then end up in hell because of an overdose."

"What year was that?"

"1947."

"Hmm, I've been down here since 1933. Did I miss anything interesting up until you came down? I seem to recall a lot of new arrivals by the time you arrived."

"Ha! Yeah, you did! Only the rise of German power which led to the most historical genocide, and a terrorist attack on Pearl Harbor by Japan, which led the States to set up Japanese internment camps... That was World War II."

"Oh dear, what interesting times that must've been," Alastor remarked.

"Yeah, anytime I went to see a picture, there was always a newsreel about it."

"You'll have to tell me more about it sometime."

"Well, I think that it's your turn to tell me a little something about yourself. You were obviously a radio host, and you're from Louisiana; but you came down here with weird voodoo powers and ya kinda look like a deer, how did that happen?"

"Well I'm from New Orleans, and my mother's French Creole and her family and friends knew a few things about voodoo... She was the only person that I ever really loved - no siblings and my so-called father was an abusive drunk... Ugh, I hated that man." Alastor stared.

The waiter brought over their meal by this time and was out of sight before they could even say anything to him.

"That guy's losin' out on his tip actin' like that," Angel Dust muttered.

"I have a reputation, so of course he's scared of me," Alastor told him. He then continued: "Well, once I got old enough to start working, I caught him beating my mother in a drunken rage. I couldn't stand the sight of it for any longer, so I killed him."

"Accidenti, Alastor! You offed your own pops?" Angel Dust exclaimed.

"Only to protect my dear mother... Now you've asked me why I'm here, should I continue?"

"Yes, this is getting intense."

"Well, something sunk in me on that day. I finally had the power to take down the monsters that wronged me and my family - at least the family that I liked. It took a while for mother to adjust to a life without dad, but she found support and while she never outright forgave me for killing her tormentor, I could see that she was happier to have him gone. However, that kill was only the first."

Angel Dust continued to listen with a horrified sense of intrigue. It was sinking in that across the table from him was a very sick and twisted soul.

"The Voodoo Butcher the public came to name me. Oh, it was quite entertaining to read the news about my killings, and no one was the wiser that their charming radio host was the one leaving voodoo symbols at the scene of his kills. Ah, it all came to an end one night while I was in a forest having just buried a body, when suddenly the lights all went out for me, and I was down here."

Alastor pulled his hair back to reveal a small red 'X' on his forehead: "I was a bit confused by my Cervidae appearance, but then I figured out that I was shot by a hunter that had - somehow - mistaken me for a deer."

"Well, I think that explains just about everything... Should I ask you more about your victims?"

"Only that I saw reason to kill them, I wasn't about killing off anyone I deemed innocent."

They ate for a moment, jazz music occasionally came from Alastor between bites of his meal.

"So, we're a mobster and a serial killer taking lunch together," Angel Dust stated.

"Haha, we're certainly not dull company.

"Ya got that right... Eh, listen, I gotta go and freshen up. I'll be back soon," Angel Dust replied. He got up and headed for the restroom and looked into the mirror: "Ah, Charlie, Vaggie, you've no idea what you've gotten me into."

He washed up some and left the bathroom, and then came to discover another patron had arrived. This one was one that Angel Dust had hoped to never see again.

They locked eyes and the pervert was suddenly on him!

"Angel Cakes, where have you been? I've been looking all over for you! Now I find you here, wearing clothes suited more for a lady than a whore," Valentino spoke.

"I'm not workin' for ya anymore!" Angel Dust snapped.

Valentino seized him by the chin and an arm: "You don't get it do you. I spent a lot of time and my money looking for my biggest star. Now you've gotta make that all up to be with good use of that mouth and ass of yours. You may even have to get on your knees for me if you want to settle the debts you owe."

"Bafangu chooch! Brutto figlio di puttana bastardo!" Angel Dust shouted.

The shouts drew Alastor's attention and he recognized Valentino and there was no ignoring the loud spider in his clutches. He politely dapped his mouth with his napkin, and then slipped his way over behind Valentino's back within his shadow. He then tapped on Valentino's back: "Excuse me, sir, but I've been enjoying the company of Mr. Angel Dust, and it would be rather rude of you to cut our lunch short."

"Yeah, well this little miss slutty drag show owes me. He's going back to my studio to make up for the lost time and money."

"No, no, this won't do at all! Why, Mr. Angel Dust has elected to participate in Princess Charlotte's rehabilitation program! Shooting burlesque pictures for you would reflect poorly on his recovery!" Alastor replied - his grin ever-present and he was still talking like a radio host.

"HAHA! Don't make me laugh! There's no rehabilitating this one! He's coming with me!" Valentino replied. He turned and started dragging Angel Dust with him, but that was when Alastor clawed his hand into Valentino's shoulder, and spun him around.

Still grinning, Alastor's form grew taller, his eyes turned to dials and then went hollow black, his antlers grew, his teeth and nails turned sharper, the space around them seemed to turn to static and distort, and his voice turned far more haunting: "I'm afraid that you have made a grievous error!"

Shadows, distortion, screams, and blood all flashed before Angel Dust's eyes. Patrons and staff alike fled the restaurant as Alastor reduced the perverted pimp to pieces and bloodstains.

When all was done, Alastor reverted back to his default form and ate a scrap of - well - meat that he had cut: "Oh dear, would you just look at this mess? This is no place to take such pleasant company... uh, Angel?"

He had turned to find Angel Dust sitting on the floor, his eyes tearing up and widened with shock, and he was splattered in blood.

"Angel?" Alastor spoke, his grin turned smaller.

"That was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me!" he replied.

Ω Ω Ω

*Sheik: Vintage slang for a good-looking guy

*Gats, Bean-shooters: 1920's mobster terms for guns.

*Stool pigeon: A police snitch

*Blow one down: To kill someone - the phrase used above was a modification to be plural.

All Italian was looked up and it's all profanity. Let me know if there's anything that you wish to see in coming posts.