On one side of the road known as Fallen Eden Avenue, there was a hotel: a hotel for sinners. Originally called the Happy Hotel, it was intended as a place for rest. Now with the name of Hazbin Hotel, it was now repurposed as a sanctuary for redemption, where demons could undo their sinful ways and earn a trip to the pearly white gates of Heaven.
So far, the hotel's success had been minimal. With only a skeleton crew of a staff, it was hardy prepared for any significant number of patrons. As such, for the time being, those who worked the hotel either passed the time with their hobbies or did their part to fix up the hotel in preparation for future guests.
One such employee was a sinner whose skill in gambling was only exceeded by his capacity to drink himself under the table without going literally under the table. This was Husk, the winged cat demon who was given the uneventful job of manning the front desk of a hotel which only had two official patrons.
His primary occupation as a gambler was temporarily on hold. This was because Husk was tied down to the hotel without much leeway by the demon who made him act as concierge: the Radio Demon. As such, his most common means of passing the time, drinking, became a constant each and everyday he was "working."
However, not every moment could be gulped away by hard liquor or a bottle of wine. One of the alcoholic sinner's more infrequent pastimes was to listen to the music he had grown up with.
One lesser known fact about Husk was his relationship with music. Listening to certain songs could ease his stress, but some songs only brought pain and bitterness. Primary examples of such compositions came during the Great Depression.
It was during such hard times that he first began drinking.
He had a wide variety of tastes in music, ranging from the earliest days of jazz to the anti war songs that he would eventually come to identify with after retiring from the military after a discharge as one of the oldest colonels in the U.S. military. Aside from some of the obnoxious music made in the decades after his death, Husk had little discrimination in what music genres he could tolerate, so long as it did not dredge up the grief he suffered from over seventy years of a mortal life.
At the moment, Husk was stationed at the front desk, the same desk he had been "working" for nearly a month. It was a bit farcical; no one had arrived to the hotel, despite the recent radio advertisement by Alastor. That left Husk to while away the hours drinking himself into a stupor. Even that was starting to bore him.
Husk had tried shuffling cards, and he had tried ordinary and awkward banter with the likes of Angel Dust and Vaggie. The former just insisted on flirting with him and the latter was not able to connect with him on any subject he tried to bring up.
He decided now was as good a time as ever to change the scene, at least in an audible sense.
Looking about, Husk placed a near empty bottle of gin off to the side and reached under the bar top of the front desk for a large, black object: a guitar case. He quickly brought up an Impiphone brand acoustic guitar. It was somewhat blemished by use and time, but it was still in solid condition. He had bought it during his sixth year in hell after a series of sweeping wins in poker (as well as a shanking or two to acquire funds from cheating sinners).
Carefully listening with his feline ears, Husk tuned up the string instrument, almost getting lost in the calming strumming of his instrument. Once satisfied with the sound, he began to play in a G major chord.
It was a steady sequence of that bounced up in the G scale, before quickly stepping down to a brief F chord, then a D chord, and landing at E minor. It soon reversed course and climbed back up to G major. Then Husk, clearing his throat began to sing, low and strong.
Long as I remember, the rain's been comin' down
Clouds of mystery pourin', confusion on the ground
Walking down the steps, another employee of the Hazbin Hotel began to hear the blooming performance. The handyman of the hotel, the man simply known as Jersey happened to hear the beginning of the song. He had been heading towards the front door to grease up the hinges. This would lessen the squeaks that came from the front entrance. Jersey's approach was unheard, but he listened intently to what Husk was playing, and he instantly recognized the song in question.
Good men through the ages, tryin' to find the Sun...
It was here that Jersey joined in. His voice was an octave higher than his feline compatriot's.
And I wonder, still I wonder
Who'll stop the rain...
Husk's harsh yellow eyes dashed in the direction of Jersey. His fingers continued playing, though they nearly stopped altogether for one brief moment.
Jersey motioned for Husk to keep strumming, and so he did just that. For a while, Husk was stuck strumming a G major chord.
"I can barely remember the last time I heard this song." Jersey commented."
Husk shrugged. "I heard from CCR right around the time I retired. Never made a bad song, in my opinion."
"I'll drink to that." Jersey said.
Husk let out a brief chuckle at the joke. He then remembered that he still had two thirds of the song to perform.
"You wanna pick up the next verse?" Husk asked over his guitar picking.
"Sure." Jersey answered with a little smile. He placed his toolkit on the front desk and improved his posture to sing more effectively.
I went down Virginia seeking shelter from the storm
Caught up in the fable, I watched the tower grow
Jersey pointed back to Husk, who smirked in response before he picked up another verse.
Five year plans and new deals
Husk nodded his head to Jersey as he began to step around the front desk. The Hazbin Hotel's handyman sang again.
Wrapped in golden chains
The two employees joined together to sing the chorus a second time.
And I wonder, still I wonder
Who'll stop the rain...
Husk continued strumming an interim portion of the song. Jersey laughed in joyful manner as he began tapping a foot to the beat. After nearly twenty seconds of acoustic string plucking, a slight variation of the opening chords began again, and Husk led the verses once more.
Heard the singers playing, how we cheered for more...
Jersey picked up the second verse.
The crowd had rushed together, trying to keep warm...
Husk began to sing his heart out at this point, his voice resonating throughout the hotel lobby and carrying up the stairways.
Still the rain kept pourin...
Jersey, too, put as much energy as he could into the fourth verse.
Fallin' on my ears...
The finale with both employees lifted their hearts.
And I wonder, still I wonder,
Who'll stop the rain...
Husk continued strumming for a time before ending on a strong G major chord.
"He he." Jersey chuckled. "Nice taste in music."
"Better than my taste in alcohol, anyway." Husk answered.
"Oh my gosh! That was amazing!" The two turned to see Charlie standing in the entryway of the East hallway, which led to her personal office.
Husk looked abashed, but he felt too pumped up due to the song that he could not remain embarrassed for long. "Eh, I'm probably a bit rusty. I just wanted to pass the time in a way that didn't waste all of the booze I got over here."
"Well that was still great!" She insisted. "Maybe we can do a sort of talent show for future guests."
Husk shrugged at the suggestion. "Didn't know you could sing." He spoke to Jersey.
"Didn't know you could play." Jersey replied.
"Eh, I started learning this stuff after the war. The second one anyway. I kinda surprise myself that I still remember how to do songs n' shit."
"You know any other Creedence Clearwater Revival songs? They're one of my favorites." Jersey said.
The cat demon thought for a few moments. "You know Proud Mary?"
Jersey smiled once more. "You start it off. I'll get to work over at the front door and sing along."
Once Jersey was at work, Husk began to strum his guitar again. He started off at a pattern that moved from C major to A major. Eventually, he repeated the pattern and added a jump up the neck of the guitar that brought him to G major and stepped down to F major. Husk eventually began a monotonous strumming at D major, and this was where he began to sing.
Left a good job in the city, workin' for the man ev'ry night and day
And I never lost one minute of sleepin' worryin' 'bout the way things might have been
Husk changed up the chord, moving down to A majorat the beginning of the chorus. This was followed by a B minor chord as the second line of the chorus arrived.
Big wheel keep on turn in'
Proud Mary keep on burnin'
Then the tune returned to D major as Jersey joined Husk in singing the last line of the chorus.
Rollin', rollin', rollin' on the River
Both men lost track of the hour they spent singing their hearts out. Charlie, now invested in hearing her two employees sing, sat down on a nearby sofa to enjoy the unexpected show. Even Niffty and Vaggie would join in as audience members.
Jersey would fully admit that the job he had set himself to do took more than half an hour to accomplish, for he was too engrossed by one his favorite band's songs to fully concentrate his energies. Yet both men gained something else: a thread of common interest.
This was only the start of their examination of the songs they loved to hear.
Rollin', rollin', rollin' on the River...
For those of you who are curious about this story, this is little more than short stories that I thought of that I couldn't seamlessly fit into the main story.
These stories won't always be from Jersey's perspective, so if you have an idea of small stories to further flesh out the Hazbin Devil story, by all means leave an idea in the review: it might just be written.
If I am inspired by a review, I'll be certain to credit the user at the bottom of the chapter.
As always, many thanks to those who like my writing and want to see it continue.