"191, 192, 193, and here we are. Room 194." After a surprisingly quick elevator ride and a short walk down the hall I arrived in front of my new residence. Standing in front of the door I studied it for a moment, noting the room number nailed onto the center of the brown door, like every other door in this hallway. I listened to the sounds of my new neighbors. Parties being thrown, television several decibels louder than they had any right to be, and screams for God that didn't come from the lips of someone dying. Not wanting to stay out any longer I put the keycard into the door, unlocking it, and stepped inside.
The apartment was dark, save for the red light filtering through the side-by-side windows on the far wall. They illuminated a meager living space. The living room, bedroom, and kitchen were part of the same room, and only the bathroom was separate, thankfully. The kitchen took up the space on my right filling one quarter of the room, with the last three quarters containing a television set and chair, and a bed along the wall. Besides these decent furnishings, there were also dozens of empty bottles scattered along the floor, and empty pizza boxes on the counter. I didn't have to check the kitchen to know that the chances of food being in there was slim, and the chances of actual dishware even slimmer.
"Oh what a pigsty," I said aloud, "did no one bother to clean up? Whose crap is this anyways?" I stopped, thinking for a moment, then remembering the lobby I smiled, "Oh yeah, that's right, heh."
I kicked aside some bottles on the floor, making my way to the chair in the center of the room. With a huff I jumped into it and started to make myself comfortable. "I suppose I'll have to clean all this up later, in the meantime, I've had a long, bloody, day. I should watch some television and get acquainted with this crazy world."
I searched for the remote, finding it lying on the ground between a couple brown bottles. Picking it up I flicked on the tv. Most everything I've seen so far has emulated the world I used to live in, so it stands to reason this place must have a news channel; or maybe a nature documentary or something that can tell me what kind of Hell I'm in for.
After a few seconds the television finally came to life, putting on the last channel that was playing, illuminating the room in blue. It showed a smartly dressed man with what looked like a flat screen television for a head, with a top hat carefully balanced on top. In his hand he held what looked like a box of cereal; smiling he walked closer to the camera and said, "Does your life lack that energetic spark needed to start the day? One bite of my cereal is fully guaranteed to get your heart pumping faster than is recommended by every consulted doctor. Try some Voot Floops for only $666 a box, and no, that price is not a joke!" The video froze and a different voice played over top the advert, "Warning, do not consume Voot Floops if you: are a small child, are elderly, a healthy adult, have a weak immune system, strong immune system, currently breathing or have a pulse. Any parties interested in this product must sign a waiver before consumption."
I sat there amused as the screen faded to black, "Killer advertisements? Now that takes me back, gotta love that Joker! And boy did they!" I exclaimed with a laugh. Then, just as I predicted, the sound of a news station intro cut me off and I swallowed my laughter to listen in. 666 News, is that number just popular because it's Hell? Yeesh, if there's one thing I hate more than forced normalcy, it's overused gags. As the logo faded off-screen the camera changed to show a woman sitting alone at a news desk. She had perfectly white skin, with red eyes and red lips, and blonde hair; but it was her complexion that drew my eye the most, and that wicked smile, she looked practically Jokerized! I started to wonder, did I kill her? I've run through so many people, and news anchors specifically? That doesn't even slightly narrow it down.
Then the sound of her voice pulled me out of my own thoughts. "Hello sinners, I'm Katie Killjoy, and Tom Trench is currently out doing who the fuck cares. Let's talk about the news." She paused as the camera shifted over and a picture of a familiar group of bodies popped up on screen beside her. "First up! A recent string of mysterious deaths have left many dying laughing in the Cannibal Colony. No one knows how it happened, but those living in the area have been advised for the very first time to not eat random bodies off the street, as investigations have found that bad meat may be the cause of these deaths. Of course, telling cannibals not to eat meat is going as well as you can expect, and death tolls are expected to rise-"
I stopped listening for a moment and leaned forward, examining the image on screen closely. Those bodies, they were white as a sheet with permanent smiles, like they were hit with my toxin. But I don't remember doing that to anyone besides the man in the bar. And what did she say? Bad meat? Could it be…? I licked the back of my teeth, drawing poison out from under my gums. I remembered the man who attacked me, and what I did to him, and what I glimpsed afterwards. That green, that toxin, my toxin. Suddenly it all clicked into place, and I started to understand the full extent of my new powers. I tainted the meat with the toxin that clings to my teeth, and when those ladies I met ate the body, it spread to them. That's why that picture looks so familiar, the dresses on the corpses are exactly what they wore. They died, then who knows how many after? I smiled to myself, this was all too exciting! I have a coat of endless goodies, a literal killer smile, and nobody to stop me; by the time I've had my fun, I'll have even Lucifer himself begging for mercy. But I'll try not to get ahead of myself.
Ideas raced in my mind, possibilities of what I could do. I've spent a lifetime perfecting my toxin, and now it courses inside me. With enough trial and error I can see just how much damage I can inflict. It's just unfortunate nobody knows I was the one behind this, but at least they aren't claiming someone else did it; Gotham had a bad habit of making a certain rodent the center of attention.
While I was thinking to myself, I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. Whipping to the right I searched the room to see if I could find what I saw. After staring into empty space for a few moments, I slowly turned and looked to the left towards the bathroom. The door was agape, but nothing was inside. I scowled slightly and slowly pulled out a snub nosed revolver. No way in hell I imagined that, I thought as I got up from the chair. What I saw looked almost like a shadow, save for a bit of blue, that looked like a face. By instinct I assumed it was Batman skulking around this apartment, but I pushed away that thought after reminding myself where I was. So who the hell was in the room with me?
As I slowly paced in the living room, my eyes scanning around for any signs of movement, the television erupted into static, causing me to jump. I turned quickly and pointed my gun at it, my heart pounding slightly faster in my chest. I stared at the tv, unmoving. Then, as if it were possessed by an unseen force, it began to change channels rapidly. I stared bemused. Not wanting to let my guard down completely I kept my ears open for any noise above the tv while my eyes remained locked on the screen. The channel switching was fast but erratic, as if whatever took control of my tv was searching for something. This went on for what felt like a full minute as colors swept by too fast for me to register. Then it stopped, as abruptly as it had begun, on one specific channel.
The screen was black at first, before it slowly faded into a standard talk show set; the camera swept to give a view of the host desk on the right of a mostly empty stage, save for a couple chairs where guests sat. A band composed of a variety of demons played the show's intro, very jazzy with supporting percussive instruments. Stage lights came on one after another to give more lighting to the set and an audience could be heard in the background starting to cheer. From this added illumination I could see the name of the show plastered in giant letters on the back wall of the set: All Night with Vince Vicarious. As the cheering reached its peak a disembodied voice said, "And here's your host, Vince Vicarious!"
Off the right of the screen a demon walked onto the stage. The demon named Vince took the form of a white wolf with pristine white fur to match the pristine black suit he wore. Dry cleaning must be a pain in the ass, I thought. He raised a hand (paw?) to the audience, waving at them with a smile as they cheered him on. The camera followed him as he made his way to his seat at the curved desk. The band's notes intensified all the way up until he took his seat, then they stopped entirely, leaving the crowd as the only source of noise until they too slowly died down. Vince waited, staring at the camera with dark red eyes and a smile, until the set was completely quiet.
Then, once the last person ceased their clapping, he started the show, "Hello once again everyone, you already know me, Vince Vicarious, and tonight we have a special show for you," he spoke with a deeply alluring voice. It was enough to make me drop my guard just a little bit more, as I took one more look around the room, then slowly sat back into the chair behind me, keeping my gun in my hand on the armrest.
"All of you know of the overlords who run this city, but because there's a handful of new assholes who die every second and come here I'll give a quick summary so this show doesn't go on too long. And to those new assholes currently watching, welcome to Pentagram City, and we hope you don't leave too soon," he said with a chuckle. "Anyways, the overlords are those few who fought their way to the very top of the sinner food chain, not born of hell but still very powerful in their own right. Each one, or rather most of them, control a piece of Hell, and the ones we all know and love who control Pentagram City are none other than the three Vs. That's Valentino, Hell's supplier of lust, and I know some of you out there have at least one of his films," he pointed to the audience with a laugh, causing the whole audience to laugh with him.
As the laughter faded he continued, "Then there's Velvet, social media influencer with an eye for fashion, and I must say," he raised his hands up and looked down at his suit obviously, then back at the camera, "she has good taste. And finally, Vox. You all know him and if you don't you better get acquainted, because he controls the airwaves and cyberspace, everything you see down here that has a screen has had his personal touch. And also, he is tonight's very special guest! That's right, one of the Vs is here tonight, so please welcome in your generous overlord, Vox!"
He gestured over to his right as the camera zoomed out and panned across the green screen backdrop of the city towards a pair of curtains. As they parted the band started up again, and a spotlight shone on the space between the curtains to show none other than the cereal commercial guy I saw a short while ago. "He's an overlord?" I asked to no one. "How funny."
By the time I finished making my crack Vox was already seated in one of the guest chairs beside Vince and the set was quiet once more. "So, Vox, is that how you'd like to be called?" Vince asked.
The face on the television that made up Vox's head smiled, "Of course, some have tried to call me Mr. Vox to be polite, but that was my dad's name, and I'm still single."
"Your dad huh? I don't suppose he looked like a CRT TV did he?" Vince asked with a smile, causing a small chuckle from Vox.
"Oh yeah Vince, and my mother was a VHS player, needless to say they went well together," Vox cracked back. This caused a laugh from Vince, prompting the audience to again laugh with him.
"Anyways," Vince said as the room calmed down, "back to what you said earlier, single again? You and Valentino have been on again, off again, on again, off again, just endlessly. What's the deal with that?"
Vox shrugged, "It's something I'm used to. See, when he breaks up, he don't actually mean to split up forever. It's just something he does whenever he's in a mood, like he was yesterday. I'm expecting a call from him later today, unless me telling you this sets him off again, then I'll hear from him tomorrow." The audience chuckled at this.
Vince smiled, looking down at something on his desk. After an audible hum, he continued, "Alright, well I hope that works out for you. Speaking of drama, what is this I hear about you and Sir Pentious?" Upon hearing this the eyes on the screen rolled and Vox put a hand to his monitor, the audience reacted similarly with a mix of laughing and booing. Vince looked up at the audience with his hands outstretched, as if he didn't know what the problem was, but his smile betrayed that gesture.
Vox put his hand up to silence the audience so he could speak, "Alright, alright, look. I don't hate the guy, I think he's a damn embarrassment with no hint of self-awareness, but I don't hate him. But basically the deal is, can't believe you heard about this, he challenged me. And I mean a literal challenge. I was out on the town like I normally am on my weekends, and this loser slid up to me, saying how I was unfit to be an overlord and I 'lacked the tact and brains he had', his words not mine. And then he threw a glove on the ground and just slithered off! I had no fucking idea what happened! Velvet was there, watching all this shit go down, and she informed me that, apparently, in medieval times knights would do that to challenge someone to a fight. And I'm just-" Vox stopped again to put his head in his hands; Vince, who was listening amused, began to double over and crack up, and the audience followed suit.
"Ok first off," Vox continued, picking his head up and pointing up a finger, "first off, it was a gauntlet they threw, cause they were knights and shit, swinging swords at each other. And second, this just makes me more confused when this old bastard kicked the bucket. I mean he flies around in a blimp, he talks like my twice dead grandfather, and now he's throwing gloves on the ground acting like people still do that to start a fight. Hey dumbass, if you're watching, listen," Vox turned away from Vince for a moment to face the camera, "if you want to fight me just fucking say so, or make it exciting and blow a hole through my house, you know where I'm at. Or maybe you don't want to do that after what Alastor did to you."
The crowd let out a long "oooo" at this remark, and Vince quickly came back into the conversation, "Yeah actually, what do you think prompted this? I mean, he barely held off Cherri Bomb and Angel Dust when he was fighting his turf war, then Alastor single-handedly destroyed his blimp. What, is he suicidal or something?"
Vox laughed, which coming from the tv it sounded distorted and pixelated, "I know, I know, it sounds insane. Maybe Alastor did a little too much damage and knocked all his senses out. Still I'm telling you, this did happen, hell I'm pretty sure Velvet has a picture on Voxtagram about it."
"Oh she did, here it is," Vince responded, pointing to the green screen in the background. As he did, it transitioned from a red overview of Pentagram City to a single social media post, showing an image of a confused Vox holding up a glove. The picture caption read: "LOL, was not expecting this today. Pentious challenged Vox and he has no idea, I'll tell him once I'm done posting. #DoubleDeadPen" The presence of the image caused the entire audience to roar into laughter, while Vox and Vince looked back at the screen and occasionally back at each other. After a minute the image faded away to be replaced by the Pentagram City background.
"Well regardless, I doubt he'll be much of a threat to you V," Vince said. "On the other hand, I wanted to ask you about Alastor. We mentioned him a couple times already and his encounter with Pentious, but there are rumors he's got it out for you specifically. Any thoughts on that?"
Vox's face made a slight grimace for a moment, before returning to his usual pleased expression. "Honestly I wouldn't know Vince. He may be considered by Lucifer to be an overlord but he never engaged in the power struggles you see broadcasted. He's been an outlier, more concerned with having his own personal fun. Now I would be a hypocrite to criticize him for that, so I won't. But have we fought? No. But we both know it wouldn't even be a contest if he tried, I assure you," Vox laughed.
As Vox and the audience grew in laughter, the tv began to grow into static and spark, as if he was affecting it from the studio. Amidst the static something was said; it was barely a whisper and I almost didn't hear it. "Liar?" I asked in a hushed voice. A shadow passed over the television, once again too quick for me to catch, then the program returned to normal; Vox and Vince were talking as if what transpired never occurred.
"But yeah, my week has been pretty funny Vince," Vox said
"I'll bet, speaking of funny, you heard the news recently about the Smile murders?" Vince asked.
"You mean the smiling corpses? Is that what people are calling it? Geez, people are unoriginal," Vox shook his head. "Yeah I heard of it, Rosie is pissed. It's happening in her district, she's been quarantining the whole place, anyone seen with a corpse is killed on sight; both to keep whatever is affecting people from spreading, and hopefully to kill the guy behind all of it."
"So you also believe this is a result of foul play?"
"It's obvious isn't it? Cannibals have been eating bodies for thousands of years down here, and only now it's killing them. Something isn't right. Not like it's my problem yet anyways, unless this virus goes digital."
"Interesting insight. Alright it looks like we're almost out of time, any other thoughts you'd like to say Vox?" Vince asked, looking at his watch.
"Oh yeah, just a few things." Vox turned his body to face the camera, and it zoomed in on him. "Pentious, I suggest backing out. You already got your ass handed to you by a street whore and his dyke friend. Don't embarrass yourself further. And Alastor…" Vox chuckled, then continued, "you can come at me any time, I respect you unlike Pentious. But you aren't as powerful as you think you are. Come near me, and I'll make you as dead as the medium you filter your voice through. The Vs have been here for a long time before you came along, and we'll still be here after. Because nobody who's dropped out of that sky has come close to touching us."
The camera panned back out to show Vox fully standing off his seat, and Vince leaning back in his chair, his eyes wide. "Well, that was pretty intense Vox," he said aptly. Returning to his usual demeanor, Vince concluded, "Alright that's all the time we have, thank you Vox for coming in and have a great rest of the night. Let's send him out on a high note folks!" Vince got up from his seat to meet Vox and shook his hand as the crowd cheered and called out Vox's name. The band was barely audible over the crowd as Vox smiled and waved; as he was walking out, he made one last glance directly at the camera following him, and he winked, before leaving the screen entirely. "Don't get out of your seats folks, Vince Vicarious will be back with more guests after these messages."
The screen shut off, leaving me in the darkness of the apartment. Leaning forward until my face was cast in the red light that filtered through the window, I thought of the information I just learned. So what I assumed was correct, there are a subset of demons that control Pentagram City, if not other territories in Hell. Those in control here are Velvet, Valentino, and Vox. The others are unknown at the moment but the latter caught my attention, and I had a feeling that wasn't by coincidence. Something came here tonight to show me him, to guide me, but why? Normally I wouldn't care so much, I want to bring this city down anyway just for the literal hell of it, but the fact it felt I was being manipulated got to me. Who, or what, is leading me on? And what is their end game? So many questions, and I can only assume in time I'll find the answers. Leaning back in my chair, I looked around the ceiling, and continued thinking to myself.
Even though there's no doubt someone is behind all this strange television nonsense, something about Vox still irks me in spite of that. Arrogance, that was it. This cereal-toting computer monitor thinks too highly of himself. He mocks anyone who wants his head, and he thinks himself untouchable. I've known many men and women who felt the same way, and I let them know in the most personal ways just how touchable they can be. And their screams were always the sweetest. Fuck it, if I'm being led on, then I hope whatever is doing it keeps on leading.
I'm coming for you Voxy.