The Double-Blind Effect

Chapter 5: My, Oh, My. Part 1

(Day 2: before grand opening)

Evening.

Charlie was on her way back to her room, walking up the grand stairway, and right behind her was Vaggie. 'I need to take a quick shower; I smell like chlorine and maybe brush my teeth too, and I'm pretty sure I swallowed a bug in the pool.' She momentarily shivered in disgust at the thought of bug guts in her gums.

"Charlie, I know I've been stalling on this topic, but I think we should talk."

She continued hiking up more flights of stairs since her room was located almost at the hotel's highest point. The heiress stopped to gaze at a broken elevator right at the heart of the hotel, it had a yellow caution tape crisscrossed over it, and a do not enter signposted on both sides. 'I need to get a company to fix that.' She didn't mind walking, but she imagined her patients would. Turning a sharp right, she strolled down a long hall that led to her room.

"Charlie, did you hear me?" Vaggie questioned.

"Huh—oh, sorry, no. Can you repeat the question, hun?"

"I said, I think we should talk." The moth reiterated and sprinted over to her princess's side.

"Hmm, we are talking, and it's a lovely conversation." The princess innocently teased her girlfriend, stopping just short of a second at her room door to bat her long lashes at Vags.

"Ha—ha, you know what I mean." The Hispanic demon giggled, and playfully she bumped her hip against Charlie's. She brushed back some locks of her silvery bangs, smiling lovingly at her girlfriend while Charlie matched that smile.

"Okay, you have my undivided attention…. I just really need to brush my teeth. I'm ninety-five percent sure that I ate a bug in the pool." Finally, she opened her room door and immediately bee-lined it in the bathroom, opening a cabinet drawer to pull out a tube of toothpaste. She took her toothbrush, which was conveniently on the countertop in a cup, and squirted some minty blue paste onto the brush. Charlie profusely brushed her teeth.

"Ooh—babe, that is so sexy." The moth sinner fanned herself, pretending what Charlie said got her all hot and bothered.

In the bathroom, the heiress stepped backward, where the doorway met the bedroom, and she suggestively waggled her eyebrows.

"Aha—haha!"

Walking back to the sink, she spitted out some foamy blue mint and turned on the sink's faucet to wash her mouth and clean the mess too. "Ha-ha, okay, okay. You can talk, Vags. I'm just gonna shower, but I promise you, I'm wholeheartedly listening to you." She sincerely said. Leaving the door halfway open, she stripped out of the one-piece to hang it over the towel rack for it to dry. The Hell Princess removed the black ribbon that held her braid. Opening the sliding glass door of the walk-in shower, she straight away jumped in and turn on the facet, the mildly scorching water sprinkled down on her body.

"Okay." In the meantime, the Hispanic demon sat down on the edge of Charlie's bed, taking a deep breath before exhaling. "Charlie, I've said this before, but I'll repeat this. I don't particularly appreciate that Alastor's is here. My gut is telling me he is cooking up a plan that could crush your dreams."

Good thing Vaggie bought her shampoo from the grocery store because hers was entirely out! She grinned happily at the simple things in life or the afterlife. Taking the shampoo bottle, she squeezed out a helping of fragrant liquid, and thoroughly she scrubbed it into her hair. "Vaggie, we can't say for sure what Al could be up to."

"Just hear me out. This guy is a known cannibal, and he potentially could eat our patients!"

"I hear your concerns, but remember that would go against our agreement. No trickster or voodoo strings attached." She hoped that the cannibalism part fell under the category of a trickster.

Vaggie sighed, wondering how she could make Charlie see Alastor for what he is. "Okay, remember when he said he's bored out of his mind and looking for a new form of entertainment? I bet instead of killing demons, he thinks he can kill your dreams and potential patients hard work."

Charlie washed the foam out of her hair then washes her body with a soft soapy luffa. "But that's your opinion, and I do value it; however, he's already provided us some staff! Furthermore, who knows what's going on in his mind. We could go back and forth on this subject for hours, and we would be right back where we started. Now, I want you to trust me, I'm mature enough to make my own decisions, and even if it fails, I stand firmly behind my choices and my dream. I won't let a temporary hindrance ruin my parade." Charlie resolutely said.

'That's why I love her so much, she's determined and so sweet, but I still can't shake off this sickly gut feelin in my stomach.' The moth sinner laid back on the bed, gazing up at the twinkling chandelier. "I don't like the way he looks at you."

"Huh?" Her throat tightened up.

"I said, I don't like the way he looks at you. He looks at you like you're some type of meal."

A slight blush suffused her permanent rosy cheeks, and she touched her stomach. It fluttered again. This conversation was the opposite of what she wanted to discuss, and the worst part was she couldn't remember if she conditioned her hair. She let out an irritable sigh, reaching for the conditioner for potential second usage. "Honesty, I think; Al looks at everyone the same. The guy has a superiority complex."

"I also don't like how handsy he is around you." Vaggie nitpicked.

Her heart pounded unkindly, and a sickening thought leaked into her mind. 'Did Angel say something to Vaggie? No, I don't believe he did. And it's not like Alastor did anything inappropriate.'

"Hey, do you want to make out?" The heiress purposely questioned, trying to avoid her girlfriend's many complaints, and she was tired of listening. Truthfully, they haven't had sex yet. Sure, they had some steamy make-outs with the occasional groping of the breasts and thighs and sleeping in each other's bedrooms, but that was it.

They've only been going out for about nine months now, and they've admitted their feelings for each other, but the princess wanted to take things slow. It wasn't like she didn't want to have magical, euphoric sex. She's just been analyzing her past dating history of poor relationships, which abruptly ended because her partners wanted to 'tap that ass.' and leave. Eating chocolate and ice cream can only mend her broken heart for so long, and taking things slow demonstrated to be beneficial. On a deep emotional level, they connected, and they always go out on dates. Sometimes it felt like they were this cute old married couple.

"Huh? That's a little random."

"So, is that a, no?" Charlie finished her shower, opening the sliding door to exit. She grabbed a towel off the door hanger, wrapping it around her hair and another towel to conceal her body. She sauntered over to the fogged mirror to draw a smiling face.

"Well, I mean, I'm not saying no… so get your booty out of the bathroom, hun." The Moth Demon replied in a subtle, flirtatious tone as she sat up.

Charlie opened the bathroom door, leaning her back against the doorframe and giving Vaggie a sexy smile. "Hey." She removed the towel off from around her head, letting it carelessly drop to the floor. Her long, damp hair fell into place.

Vags softly giggled at her princess, hopping off the bed to waltz over, and placed her hands on the princess's waistline. "Hey." She leaned in to kiss Charlie passionately on the lips, and the heiress entwined her arms around her moth's back neck, kissing her back.

At the same time.

Alastor paced back and forth in his office. 'My, oh, my. So, my dear, you feel sexually attracted to me?' His workplace is furnished and well organized. It had a flawless velvet carpet and matching drapes that shielded against the sunlight. In the center of the room were a long, dark mahogany desk with a black leather office chair and two corresponding lounge chairs. There were various simple, slick decoration pieces throughout the room, such as empty vases and a candelabra with a skull design that held black candlesticks. One particular vase contained a dozen dead red roses on his desk, and there were numerous skulls with horns on the walls. Against the wall on the left was a long bookshelf packed with thick, covered books in all colors. A self-portrait of himself arrogantly grinning in a gold-trimmed art frame. The only lack-lustered thing in the room was a filing cabinet.

On the opposite end of the office was a sight to behold, his radio station. The area had a U-shaped desk and a wooden chair. Every piece of equipment in that zone was from the 1920s. There was a large vintage radio board-casting box with all the bells and whistles, and on the side was a built-in record player. A black, short microphone which resembled his staff, and on the side of the record player was a classic typewriter. On the wall above the radio station is an antique neon sign that read: 'On Air.'

Alastor moseyed over to the long desk, taking a seat in his comfortable chair, and he leaned against it, resting his long legs on top of the desk. "Aha—haha! This is too rich. Out of all the imaginable elucidations, she chooses the peculiar body lust." One of his deadly claws moved up to cover his mouth, attempting to silence the quells of an insidious laugh; otherwise, he'd face multiple concerned knocks on his door. "Well—so far, it's only a physical attraction, and I can validate that there isn't yet one of a mental allure. After all, she is in a relationship with the other, belle." How stable was her relationship to that frowning dame?

Tapping his claw against his chin, he contemplated an alternative course of action. A sinister smile played on his mouth. As if all the pieces of the puzzle aligned, he ultimately came up with a resolution. He could easily peruse her, allure her, and overall have her only rely on his care.

She will be his plaything.

The Radio Demon relished the thrill of a chase just before going in for the kill. Once she was his, he could use her for her knowledge of other overlords, the Seven Deadly Sins, and her father's weaknesses. Her powers were a curious factor to consider. She could potentially have angelic healing properties or hidden possibilities since she's the daughter of a fallen angel.

Charlie certainly kept astonishing him with an endless supply of entertainment, and once boredom kicks in, he could break her heart, her silly ambitions, and the dreams of poor sinners. The overlord anxiously wanted to see her hopeful moonbeams eyes turn into anguish; he craved that futile expression. "Hmm—how does that saying go again? Aha, 'it's like killing two birds with one stone.'"

After a heavy make-out session, Vaggie left the room, and Charlie finally went to her walk-in closet to find some clothes to wear. It shouldn't take hours to decide on an outfit out, but here she was struggling with something so mundane. 'Should I dress in something more casual or just go the same old look?' Her doe eyes veered over to an unsuspecting sky-blue, frilly baby-doll lingerie that hanged on the clothing rack. In a moment, a flare of sudden overwhelming disbelief left her head spinning. 'Hell no! I gotta stop making this so hard. Girl, grab something and be done with it!' With a frustrated growl, she yanked some clothes off the hanger and left the closet.

The heiress picked the dullest outfit in her closet, gray dress pants and a long sleeve black blouse with buttons in the center. Discarding her towel by tossing it into the laundry hamper, she strolled over to the dresser drawer to open it, pinpointing some cute undergarments. Once she dressed and her hair brushed enough to her satisfaction, she was too exhausted to care about some damp areas in her hair. The Hell Princess exited the room, heading to Alastor's office, which conveniently was on the same floor.

By the time she arrived at his office, she was standing outside the door for a solid ten minutes. 'Just knock; you know how to knock.' She attempted to knock on his door, but partway she dishearteningly retracted her hand.

Charlie frustratedly paced back and forth by the overlord's door. 'Get a grip; you need to start acting like an adult.' She rubbed her rosy cheeks in a circular motion to feel the soothing effects; however, it lacked the magical closure her parents would give. 'Every time I'm within five paces from him, I get the heebie-jeebies! Maybe, I should drink some wine to take the edge off.' Fledging only two steps from his door before, she stopped to whirl around and hurried back to her original location. 'Noo! Don't you remember what happened last time?! Don't let him get into your head. It's easy, knock, you idiot!' Her mind bellowed and finally knocked.

Seconds later, the door crept opened, Alastor's silhouette manifested from the doorway, and he gazed down to his plaything, flashing her an infamous yellow-fanged grin. "Good evening, doll, I'm pos-i-lute-ly giddy that you decided to come! Please, please, come in." Alastor gleefully announced.

"No, prob!" The Hell Princess couldn't suppress a warm smile. He held the door open for her, and she waltzed in his office. Mildly curiously, her virtuous eyes scanned the unfamiliar surroundings. Everything in his office was relatively standard; however, in her opinion, it lacked something personal. There wasn't a single photo of a friend or a portrait of his mother, which inexplicably saddened her. She predicted his room would have a self-portrait, but on the other hand, the skulls on the walls were another story. 'What a lovely room… of death.' She sarcastically thought.

She cautiously ventured further in, catching sight of a bookcase, she bee-lined towards it. Tilting her head to the side, she read various titles up and down from the spines of old, thick-covered books. He had quite the collection, and it didn't seem he preferred one genre to the next. One particularly caught her curiosity. "Alice in Wonderland?" It fascinated her that he had books from the human world. 'I wonder if he made deals and got these books in exchange?'

Alastor strolled behind Charlie, placing his deadly claws on her shoulders, and leaned in. "My word, you picked quite the bee's knee's book there!"

"Is it that good?"

"Tell you what, how about I let you borrow it, my dear. In return, you'll have to tell me what you think?" The overlord's claw reached over to pinch one of her rosy cheeks teasingly.

"Really? Cool beans!" Blood raced up her neck to warm her already rosy cheeks from the sudden realization of how close they were. The princess broke away from Alastor, turning to face him. "So shall we get to business?"

"Ab-so-lute-ly! May I offer you some giggle water? I have a fine assortment of whiskey and gins." He sauntered over the office desk, and with a flick of his wrist, out materialized a bottle of alcohol and two lowball glasses.

"Umm—water is fine, thanks." She gulped, following him over to his desk, where she sat down on an oversized leather chair with the book in her lap. His powers impressed, astounded her, and she couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit envious. She is only versed in fire manipulation from her father's rigorous training sessions. The fallen angel doted on her as a young girl; however, he was a completely different person during training sessions. He enforced into her mind that practice equals perfection and to prepare for any ambushes. The problem was, she wasn't overly fond of violence.

Alastor blinked twice, and with a closed mouth, he grins arrogantly at his plaything. "But of course, my demon belle." With a snap of his claws, green mist swirled around the desk, a bottle of cold water manifested next to the alcohol. He took off his pinstriped coat, laying it over the chair; he pushed the long dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows and sat down. "I have some news that may interest you, Charlie. I've obtained the hotel's first patron." He grabbed the whiskey bottle; opening the cork, he poured the liquid into a glass, then he took a swig.

Charlie sipped on the bottle of water. "Seriously, Al? That's amazing!" She gushed, placing the water bottle down on the desk along with her hands.

"I'm glad you agree, but our patron advised us in to throw a jamboree to show these high hats that this joint, your cause, is worth their heavy sugar!" The static in his voice played on, and he placed his claws over her petite hand.

"So, they want us to throw a party here? Hell yeah, I'm down!" The heiress ecstatically answered. 'Finally, something is going right!' Warning bells went off in her mind from the inexplicable, abrupt warm palm on top of hers. Her breath caught in her throat when his thumb tantalizingly massaged the back of her hand. Her eyes flickered over to Alastor's claw and bare forearm; his gloves remained. She allowed herself to memorize the detail of his naked arm, all those scars varied from nanoscopic to jagged wide, and each wound had a story behind it. There was a microscopic feeling within her; she wanted to nurse his wounds.

The princess's blush became distinctively noticeable. She averted his gaze; her heart pounded furiously against her chest because her arm went catatonic. Much to her frustration, she failed to will her hand to move. 'He's toying with me again, right?'

"Ah, that reminds me, my dear. I procured your suggestion box the other day. How about you open it to see if there are any suggestions?" He slowly withdrew his hand, bending down to the side he picked up off the ground her suggestion box.

The Hell Princess reached over for her water bottle to drink more than needed, mostly because she was afraid her throat would dry up. She watched Alastor place the suggestion box on the desk; she opened it, and to her satisfaction, there were scraps of paper within. Obtaining several pieces of paper, she unfolded them.

"Movie night." The heiress brightly beamed because she knew this was her moth's handwriting. "The hotel does an indoor theater, and I think this is a good idea. A movie can socially connect people by sharing interest and can build a foundation of friendship." It's a good thing that the theater was operational and cleaned!

"Eloquently put." He lied. To think a picture-show can do all that and more, it's laughable!

"Let's see… poker." She said, disenchanted.

"Hah—ha, Husker. The fella never seems to quit, does he, eh?"

"Maybe I can talk to him and see if we can't come up with some sort of agreement."

"You're wiser beyond your years, and truly you are generous to help, my dear." The overlord darkened gaze led up to Charlie, watching her sheepishly squirm in the chair; he grinned arrogantly. 'My plaything responds well to compliments.'

"Ahem—next is the pool! Well, I think all of us here can vouch that it was a success!" She cheerfully smiled at the piece of paper, reminiscing back a few hours ago to the pool. Seeing everyone enjoying themselves with this one activity warmed her heart, and she never saw Angel smile like that before. "Alright, the last one is… a talent show?"

"Ooh? A talent show, now that's a ritzy idea." The Radio Demon tapped on his chin with his deadly claw, and he smiled, revealing yellow fangs. "Our lives are like a stage show, a theater with one act and no retakes, and everyone has some… gift or another." The audience in the background of his voice cheered and clapped.

"You're right, and it sounds like it could be a blast!"

"I'm thrilled that you agree!" Again, he placed his claw on top of her hand and felt her tense up. "What's eating you, my dear? You're tense. Do you need a massage?" He asked through a throaty voice, which had a hint of underlying menace.

A blush splattered across her cheeks. "Erm no, that wouldn't be necessary!" She rasped, watching him get up from the chair, and in retaliation, she sprang out of hers. NO way! The heiress prohibited herself from getting a massage by him, then suddenly something particular drew her attention. "Say, is that your radio station?" She hastily ambled towards it.

"Why, yes, it is." Alastor chuckled a low dark sound. It was to ease to entice her; he observed the cues she exhibited. 'I think I found her weakness.' The littlest gestures of a caress made her already rosy cheeks brighten tenfold, and her eyes speak unspoken emotions.

"It's so cool!" Charlie admired his vintage radio station; however, a thought occurred to her, he's known for broadcasting his carnage. She hoped, no prayed, he wouldn't plan on doing anything of the sort while staying here. A small thought entered her mind, pondering the inkling of what it would be like to sing from the radio. Would it sound better compared to a TV?

The overlord followed after, standing aside her, he placed his glove claw on her waist, and his thumb started rubbing a small circular motion there. "I couldn't agree more!" He retorted with mirth.

Charlie stood frozen with mild fear but overall bewitched by his touch. A rush of excitement turned her cheeks warm, and she held her breath, hoping her heartbeat wasn't as loud to him as it was to her. With a sudden glimpse up, she wondered if this was deliberate. Why did she even bother trying to read him? It's not like she could, which led her to the second question: was he doing this involuntarily? Again, she hadn't the faintest idea. All this questioning was making her head spin and conniving herself to believe that this was his usual teasing handsy self, and unfortunately for her, her waist was particularly sensitive.

For some reason, a silly thought crossed her mind. 'I bet Al is good with massages—oh no, no, no, BAD thought!' The Hell Princess dragged her mind back from that thought. Since her body refused to bend to her will, it was up to her mind to pick up the slack. As much as she wanted to flee like a child from his office and never return, she remained in place. "Erm—so, Al, what was… oh never mind, forget it." There was no way she could ask such a personal question, and maybe it was time to end their conference.

Alastor gazed down at the princess, noticing she was looking away and frowning. His deadly claws reached over to raise her chin, and their eyes met. The same hand tucked several tresses of her astray hair behind her ear. "Finish your sentence, and I'll deem if it's worthy of an answer." He hated frowns; to him, it was an expression of weakness, and seeing his plaything's unusual weakness made him feel unsettled. For the first time, a fleeting emotion flickered through his eyes, and it was puzzling; it felt like he genuinely wanted to comfort her. No, this was just a part of his game.

"I was just curious, what was your life like being a radio host?" The princess innocently inquired, staring into his captivating eyes.

"That's a splendid question, my dear! Well, for starters, when I was alive, it wasn't all fine and dandy. It was my first job at a radio station in New Orleans; the 3 am hour. I was quite the owl during those days, and I reported traffic on a dead highway. Occasionally, I received calls from either a rummy or trucker calling to report a dead possum on the road." He chuckled, reminiscing about those days.

"And then what?"

"Ahh—well, a stroke of luck. Ms. Josephine Baker turned my life around that day. One night, I received a call from her. The poor dame had a flat tire on the highway. When I asked her, why call not your relative instead of me? She said her relatives lived a few states away and had nowhere else to turn."

"That's awful!"

"Indeed, it was. Ms. Baker heard my charming voice over the radio and used her last penny to call the radio station. After that, I stole my big shot boss's automobile and drove to her location, and I knew nothing of the sort to change a tire, so I offer her a lift to the nearest 24-hour diner. Right away, I recognized her; she was one of the greatest jazziest comedic dancers! The dame was so thankful she offered me the opportunity to interview her. Since then, I no longer did traffic reports; instead, I got my radio station and did what I wanted. I became New Orleans's most entertaining radio host; I would do riveting interviews and stories of the day! Listeners loved hearing my voice!" Yes, from that faithful encounter, the overlord's life changed, and he got a taste for real entertainment that later turned into becoming a serial killer.

For a moment there, Alastor was off-guard, standing there immobile. He didn't comprehend why he told the truth about his past and not a lie.

"Thank you for sharing that with me." Charlie brightly beamed, her words broke his trail of thought, and he resumed back to his typical manner.

"Any time, darling." The Radio Demon returned a laconic grin.

"I should probably get going, and thanks again for lending me your book!"

"It's no trouble. I enjoy your company till next time, au revoir." The static left his voice to reveal his true one, and the overlord took his plaything's hand, bending down to kiss her knuckles softly.

Charlie blushed bright pink from her neck to hairline, the color almost simulated to her rosy cheeks. "G-goodnight." She breathlessly replied before she bee-lined it out of his office, nearly slamming the door in the process. She needed to get her brain scanned! Do therapists see other therapists because she wouldn't be against the idea.

First things first.

She had to pee!

Too much water!