Chapter 9: Counseling Sessions

"So, what seems to be the problem?"

Angel Dust sat before me, sprawled over the chair that was sat in front of the desk in the office. Every limb twitched, and an agitated look had settled itself on the spider demon's face. Fat Nuggets was sitting on his lap, nudging one if his hands with his snout, and it seemed to take a lot of concentration for Angel to be able to reach up and pet him without chucking the pig across the room in annoyance.

On the desk in front of me was a plastic bag that was full to bursting with PCP. I couldn't help but wonder if this was the amount he consumed on a daily basis. From the looks of the bag, along with some of the withdrawal symptoms he seemed to be experiencing, it didn't look like Angel had taken any of it, but the very fact that he had it in his possession meant that he had broken a rule.

"What does it look like the problem is?" he grumbled, "It's sittin' right there in front of ya."

"Right..." I picked up the bag, pinching the white powder between my fingers through the plastic, "Just how long have you been addicted to this stuff?"

Angel Dust laughed, "Are you kiddin'? I was born into the mafia. Chances are that I was suckling that stuff straight from my ma's titties as a baby!"

His voice might have sounded cheerful and teasing, but I couldn't help the aching feeling that struck my chest as I thought about that scenario. Even I remembered the days where I didn't have to rely on nicotine to get through the day. They may have been days filled with frustration, tears, and a little bit of homicide, but in a way that life had been a lot better than looking around for a pack of cigarettes like a total drug addict. To think that Angel Dust could have been born an addict, and had struggled with it his entire life... It was sad to think about.

"So, you don't remember a time when you weren't doing drugs?" I inquired.

"Not really," Angel replied, "Started smokin' at age ten, had my first bottle of booze at age twelve, did my first line of coke at age fourteen, and I just kept that ball rollin' from there."

"So, why are you here then? I mean, I get that getting to live somewhere that's rent-free is a pretty sweet gig, but what's the point if you don't intend on trying to go clean?"

Angel glowered at me as he crossed his arms, clearly offended by my question.

"You're just as bad as Vaggie," he muttered, "None of you see it when I'm actually tryin' to stay clean. All you broads see are my mistakes."

I looked down at the bag of PCP that was still in my hands. I had never smoked anything more potent than marijuana, so hard drugs had never really appealed to me, but I always wondered what the appeal was. What made people keep on abusing substances like cocaine, heroin, and methamphetamine? What made them keep coming back, despite everything that it cost?

"Maybe you can explain this to me," I piped up, "Which side effect of PCP makes it so appealing to you? What keeps pulling you back aside from the addiction?"

"Well, the psychedelic effects are pretty nice, but..." Angel cut himself off. A look came over his face, like he was recalling a bad memory; a look full of depression, disappointment, and dread, "Well... it also came in handy whenever my pop wanted to beat my ass."

My heart sank even further, "You didn't have a good relationship with your father?"

"Ha, far from it! Ol' Henronin hates just about everything that I became. He doesn't like the fact that I'm gay, or a porn star, or that I'm fuckin' pink! Like I had the power to decide whether or not I was fuckin' pink when I came down here! Coulda been any other color, but no. Make me pink, and he instantly has a problem!"

I let Angel take his time at venting out his frustrations. It all seemed to come together. He didn't dabble with drugs just for shits and giggles. He was stressed, upset, and traumatized by everything his father had put him through. I had heard Henronin's name in passing, but I'd never seen him. Now, I was pretty sure that I didn't want to. How long had Angel been holding in these feelings? How much PCP, crack, and sex had he used trying to forget his past?

After several minutes of yelling, in both English and Italian, and punching and kicking the wall a few times, Angel finally settled down and held Fat Nuggets against his chest. He looked like he wanted to cry, but at the same time seemed to be trying his best to hold it in to save face.

"I'm sorry," he said, brushing a tear away from one of his eyes, "I didn't mean to go off like that. I've had that weighing on me for a while now."

"Please," I sighed, "Feel free to vent to me any time. I think that's kind of my job here, as well as trying to find a healthier alternative to helping you cope with these feelings."

Angel scoffed, "Like what?"

"Well, you mentioned that you enjoy the psychedelic effects of PCP. What would those be? Image distortion? Colors? Weird hallucinations?"

"Mainly the colors. They kinda remind me of aquariums, a little bit."

I quirked a brow in intrigue, "Aquariums?"

"Yeah, you know, like how all the colors just kinda swim around and reflect off of each other along with the fish? Man, I could sit in front of the fish tanks at the pet store for hours just watchin' fish swim around!"

I smiled as I stood up and tossed the bag of PCP into the closet with the rest of the contraband.

"I think I know how I might be able to help you..."

Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor and I looked on in amusement as we watched Angel Dust from the doorway to his room. The spider demon was sprawled out on his bed, staring in awe at the wall across from him.

Where there was once a television he was watching porn on there was now a massive aquarium. About a dozen tiny fish in a rainbow of colors darted in and out of their coral hideouts, their scales flashing in the light that hung over the tank. All together, I had conjured up enough guppies, platties, and tetras to keep the enclosure busy, along with a couple of colorful snails to clean up after them. And the entire time, Angel stayed glued to where he was, watching in wide-eyed wonder as the fish just swam around, doing their thing.

"You really think this is gonna work?" Vaggie asked.

I chuckled, "It's working right now, isn't it?"

"Hm, fair point..."

I leaned against the frame of the door, trying to get my bearings. Using magic required a lot of energy. The amout of magic it took to create a fully-functioning aquarium in the span of a couple of minutes left me feeling tired and drained. It was the price I had to pay in order to possess that much power; the power to summon, build, and destroy as I commanded it. I didn't use it all that often now, but back in the day it was the entire reason that I was as powerful as I was. It was what made me the monster that I was back when I was alive.

I recouped just in time to see Alastor eyeing Fat Nuggets and start in the pig's direction. He had the same air about him as a cat did when it stalked a mouse; slow, quiet, and filled with murderous intent. I hooked him by the collar of his suit before he could make it two steps into Angel Dust's room.

"You're next, coffee man!" I stated, pulling him back into the hallway.

I was met with little resistance as Alastor and I made the walk back towards the office. He wasn't as jittery and out of control as he had been the other day when he had loaded himself up with twenty pots of coffee, but the caffeine buzz was definitely still there. Alastor almost immediately started fidgeting in his seat as he sat down, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the surface of the desk as one of his legs bounced restlessly.

However, as I looked him over, I couldn't help but feel a touch of concern for the Radio Demon. Dark circles hung around his eyes, giving him an almost sickly appearance. His eyes were bright and alert, and his smile was there, but everything else about him made him look drained and worn down. Did he not get any sleep last night? Was he actually sick? Or was there more to this that I didn't know about?

With all the questions that were starting to stack up in my mind, I knew one thing for certain: Alastor most likely wasn't willing to discuss any of it with me.

"I hear you went on quite the coffee binge this morning," I started, "Care to explain yourself?"

Alastor gave a halfhearted shrug, "It was only three pots..."

"Right, but you know the rules. Two eight ounce cups per day. That's it."

A metallic groan rattled inside of Alastor's throat, "I'm afraid it takes a lot more than that to get this radio host going in the morning, my dear. Who says I have to play by the rules?"

I couldn't help but smirk as I crossed my arms, "Charlie says, and if I recall correctly, you agreed to it."

My mind went back to when Charlie had been firing off her list of rules in the dining room. We all had to agree to follow these rules to a T, or we weren't permitted to stay at the hotel. Work here, yes, but residents specifically had to abide by the rules in order to stay. I was sure that with as powerful as he was, and how much territory he owned, Alastor had his own house somewhere in Hell, yet he had decided to take up residence in one of the hotel's master suites. Maybe it was so he could keep a better eye on the place, but it still left him bound by the rules of the hotel.

"Tell me a little bit about what your sleep schedule is like," I said, "What time do you normally turn in for the night?"

Alastor hummed as he tapped his chin in thought, "Midnight, I'd say. Somewhere between midnight and 1AM."

"And what time do you wake up?"

"At precisely 6AM every morning. Someone has to get the hotel ready for the day, and who better to do it than I?"

"Do you take any naps throughout the day?"

"Rarely. Why do you ask?"

I blinked at him. If I had to envision what I might have looked like in the wee hours of this morning after I had finish with my readings, how Al looked now would probably be it. Was he even aware of how exhausted he looked right now?

"I'm just curious," I replied, "You're looking a bit rough today."

Alastor shot me a questioning look. I pointed out all of the things I had noticed; the dark circles, his sickly visage, and just the general air of tiredness that surrounded him. I didn't want to say it was insomnia, as I knew plenty of demons that managed to get by on a five to six hour sleeping schedule, but there was something going on that wasn't benefiting him, and most likely increased his reliance on caffeine to keep him going.

My mind went back to what Husk had told me last night. Alastor had more problems than he knew how to handle. With everything that I had seen thus far, I was sure that this was just the tip of the iceberg.

"Well, we all had quite the busy day, yesterday," Alastor stated, "With everything that's happened, I'm sure we're all feeling a little rundown."

Bingo! He might have said it with beaming charisma, and seemed to be directing the issue towards everyone other than himself, but I was able to make out the confession hiding behind all of that. He felt rundown. He was tired, but was still trying to perform his regular duties as per usual. He needed rest. Hell, he pretty wanted to rest, but he didn't want to put his duties on hold in order to get it. A classic example of a raving workaholic.

"Why don't we try this," I piped up, "Turn in an hour early tonight, and wake up at around seven. That should give you plenty of time to rest up, and decrease your dependence on coffee a little bit. Try sticking to this schedule for about a week, and we'll see where you're at. Sound fair?"

"Hmm, fair enough!"

Alastor stood up from his chair and started towards the door.

"By the way," I spoke up, stopping him in his tracks, "About last night... I'm sorry. Whatever happened, it really wasn't any of my business. I hope there's no hard feelings."

Turning on his heel, Alastor leaned towards me and shot me a grin, "Not at all, darlin'! I suppose I overreacted a touch, myself. The smell of blood was thicker than pea soup throughout the entire hotel, and, well, it's just exhilarating and me! I guess you could say I I wasn't in the right mindset for anybody to get all touchy-feely."

I chuckled, "Especially after that moose demon took a swipe at you. I've learned my lesson, I promise."

"Ha ha! You know, Miss Charms, if you'd like to know about anything that pertains to me, you need only ask."

The look that came across my face must have been priceless. Maybe Niffty had been right all along. All of the questions that I piled up in my mind, all of the answers I sought, and all I had to do was ask. Was it really that easy to debunk the mystery that surrounded the Radio Demon?

... No. No... He'd probably make it as much of a pain in the ass as anything else that pertained to him. No doubt there was plenty of information that he didn't want me knowing. Tapping into that information was going to take a lot of patience and picking his brain. If I wanted answers, real answers, then Al would probably make it as difficult for me to get them as possible.

"I'll take a rain check on that," I said, "Let's just focus on getting your coffee addiction under control and your sleep schedule back on track."

Alastor gave a polite nod before slipping out of the office. An inexplicable feeling of calm washed over me as I was left alone with my thoughts. It almost felt like I was an equal to Alastor, like we could talk to each other without all that baggage in the way; the baggage of the Radio Demon's reputation. Like I could be on equal footing with him. There were definitely some moments where he'd remind everyone that he was a force to be reckoned with, but overall I didn't feel as afraid of him as I had when we'd first met.

Of course, I couldn't help but wonder what it all meant. Why would an entity that got off on other people's misfortune provide clothing to a lowly street urchin? Why would a demon overlord with unfathomable power pass down a piece of his territory to a sinner whose powers were dwarfed by his own? And why would the Radio Demon, a man shrouded in total mystery, want to open himself up to someone lifting that veil? What did Alastor have to gain from all of that? Was he doing it out of convenience? Did he see something in me that I had yet to notice? Or was he simply tired of being this pillar of power and fear, this sort of boogeyman, and was trying to break away from that reputation?

As my mind started loading up with more questions than I knew how to deal with, a movement at the edge of the desk caught my eye. It was a little difficult to make it out, at first, due to the dim lighting, but there was no mistaking its identity as it slithered up to me. A forked tongue flicked out of its triangular-shaped head as it stared unblinking at me with a pair of beady yellow eyes.

A snake. A beautiful snake, at that; a steely grey in color with black stripes around its body. Slowly, it slithered up to where I was sitting and lifted its head to scope me out. It had a look of curiosity in its eyes as I let it inch its way up and around my shoulders. I ran a hand down the reptile's long, slender body, marveling at the smoothness of its scales. I loved animals, but snakes had to be my absolute favorite.

"My, my! He normally doesn't warm up to strangers that quickly."

The sudden voice nearly made me leap out of my skin. I wheeled around to find a tall woman standing at the foot of my desk. Her long, platinum blonde hair practically reached the floor, and the sterling silver color of her eyes pierced right through the fabric of my soul. She radiated an aura of dominance, and had to be the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. The portraits Charlie had of her throughout the hotel really didn't do her justice, and my heart just about stopped right then and there as the realization began to dawn on me.

I was now in the presence of the Queen of Hell, Lilith Magne.

I sat there speechless as she slid herself into one of the chairs in front of me, shooting me a smile that would have made any man's knees weak. I found myself losing myself in her details, from the way she sat with her legs elegantly crossed as her midnight black dress caressed her thighs to the way her long, ebony lashes fluttered whenever she blinked. I wasn't gay, necessarily, but I would've been lying if I said I didn't want this woman to do some downright naughty things to me. Fuck!

I managed to pull myself out of my trance and cleared my throat.

"You must be Charlie's mother," I started, "It's an honor to meet you, you're Majesty. I'm--"

"Juniper Charms, I know. Charlie has told me quite a bit about you," Lilith reached towards me, unraveling the snake that was coiled around my shoulders, "She's seemed to have built up a lot more confidence since you came here. I also hear that you're a pretty extraordinary fortune teller."

My heart beat wildly in my chest. I didn't give a flying fuck if she found this out from Charlie, or if she had somehow picked up on my reputation through word on the street. If the Queen of Hell was about to ask me for any sort of reading, I was done. My heart was going to explode!

"Oh, I'm... alright," I stuttered out, "Just a bunch of looking at cards and looking at lines. It's nothing, really."

Lilith let out a light chuckle, "Quite the humble creature, aren't you? Perhaps I should test your skills, and then well see if you're really as good as they say."

And... cue internal screaming. Aside from the fact that my body was heating up like it was the middle of mating season, something told me that doing this would be a very bad idea. I was sure that all it would take is one rather unsatisfactory reading for Lilith to have a reason to decapitate me. And God forbid it if she wanted a palm reading, where any and all information about her would be at my disposal.

"Eh, what kind of reading are we talking about here?" I inquired, "Tarot? Palm? I have a crystal ball I can use, if that tickles your fancy."

"I didn't realize I had so many options," Lilith stated, "Surprise me. I'm willing to go with what you think is best."

I gave a slight nod and stood up from my seat, "Please excuse me for just a minute while I fetch some supplies."

I strode out of the office, the hairs on my arms standing on end as Lilith's eyes followed me out the door. I made it to my room in what felt like a single stride, dashing up to the top floor so fast that others passed by in a blur. My head spun as my lungs threatened to collapse as I tried to get my bearings.

I knew Lilith Magne was beautiful, but I never imagined she was so beautiful that she could make me feel gayer than a three-dollar bill! I needed to pull myself together, because the last thing I wanted was to be caught making goo goo eyes at her... especially by her husband!