"Three days! That's how long we have until the next annual Extermination! We here at Channel 666 news strongly encourage our viewers to stock up on supplies, weapons, essentials, and insurance for those still alive after the massacre! Just because YOU may die doesn't mean those you care about can't get something out of it, am I right?"

"Husk, can you please turn that off?"

"You got it, boss."

Click

With the television put to rest, the room fell silent. The only noise to follow afterward came from the remote that controlled it being placed on top of a hotel lobby front desk. All of the lobby's occupants were in different places within the room. The total number of which being five.

Comprised of three women and two men, this group was...colorful. But that wasn't just a description of their attire or physical appearance. Their personalities, interests, and opinion of one another were greatly varied. So much so that they were more likely strangers rather than acquaintances.

And yet, that wasn't the case. Through a series of unexpected events, these five individuals knew each other and had become...somewhat familiar. Only two were truly close, mostly due to being a couple. Whereas the remaining three, although not friends or family, were a trio all the same.

Combined, this lot was certainly a cast of characters. Each member was so distinct from the rest that none bore a resemblance to another. From the porcelain-skinned beauty with long flowing blonde hair known as Charlie Magne. To her partner, both in business and pleasure, Vagatha, whose skin was gray like ash and hair white like snow.

Then, of course, there was the aforementioned trio. A winged feline with a poker aesthetic named Husk. A pint-sized mono-eyed woman named Nifty. And a man who needed no introduction as his reputation preceded him, the Radio Demon with horns of a stag, Alastor.

Apart from the lovers, who had some shared interests, these people had nothing in common. Well, that's not entirely accurate. There was ONE trait each of them possessed, something that defined their existence at this point in their lives. Or, for Charlie, it was something she's had since her conception.

These five souls, all standing in a hotel lobby, were sinful. Corrupt. Evil. Demonic. Whatever word suited your fancy to describe the opposite of virtuous and righteous.

However, Charlie was a slight exception. Her entire life, she strived to be a good person. And without any incentive or reason, she was naturally kind, caring, and giving. It was only by the nature of her existence, which was the devil's daughter, that she was evil.

Charlie could never be referred to as such by her actions or how she treated others. If anything, finding one soul within all of Hell better than hers was nigh impossible. Sadly, such a nature wasn't appreciated in the land of the wicked. Throughout Charlie's life, everyone considered her optimism and goodwill the pique of comedy, the sole exceptions being her parents and Vagatha.

That is until she decided to open this hotel. Now her father, though not laughing at her expense like the rest of Hell, couldn't help but feel ashamed at what he believed to be his daughter's delusional perception of reality. Yet the hotel was not a simple business venture; it was meant to be the first-ever rehabilitation facility for the sinners from Earth. To help with an issue plaguing their crimson-colored home for a few centuries now, overpopulation.

Charlie believed that even the worst of humanity could be saved with the proper resources and assistance. And, if they were willing, perhaps the Hellspawn, natural denizens of Hell, could be allowed to enter Heaven once they proved they aspired to be better. This is why she named the property "The Happy Hotel," for what she hoped to create was a safe space for any willing to try it.

This went about as well as one would expect. No residents, no other foot traffic, and Charlie's already mocked reputation worsened. Technically, there was ONE person, currently not present, who could be referred to as an occupant. But in all fairness, he was more like the poster boy for the hotel; a means to try and convince others to give it a shot.

As for Vagatha, Husk, Nifty, and Alastor, they were also not residents. Vagatha and Alastor assisted Charlie in running and maintaining the hotel. Husk manned the front desk, and Nifty, with her remarkable speed, kept the building spotless of even the tiniest dust bunnies.

Although they DID live in the hotel, it wouldn't make much sense if they only worked there and then left, now would it? Especially with what was coming in the next three days. The Extermination. As mentioned moments ago by one of Hell's most recognized faces, Katie Killjoy.

And of everyone in the domain of the damned, no one had ever been more upset by it than Charlie. After all, it was the origin of the idea for The Happy Hotel.

"You okay, hon?" Vagatha asked, a look of concern on her face as she looked at her lover.

"No. But that's normal." Charlie answered with a small smile, trying to make herself and Vagatha feel better.

"Hey, if it means anything, I think it's sweet that you care so much." Husk joined in, leaning forward on the front desk with his arms.

"You...do?" Charlie questioned with a raised brow. The feathered feline was never one to care for others. So to hear him say such a thing was unusual and surprising.

"Yeah. It might be pointless, and you're only making yourself miserable by feeling bad for the bastards and bitches who deserve what they're getting. But still, it's nice that ya give a fuck." Husk...complimented? At least, that's what it seemed like he was doing.

"Gee, you have such a way with words, Husk." Vagatha retorted with an unamused expression.

"That's why I'm at the front desk." Husk said, unfazed by her disapproving look.

"I thought it was because Al convinced you to work here in exchange for cheap booze?" Nifty asked, recalling when the Radio Demon summoned the both of them after the last Extermination.

"Yeah, that too." Husk answered, not afraid to confirm it. "But I will admit, after a year of imprinting my ass in this chair, I've grown to love this job." He confessed.

"You're only saying that because we haven't had any business. So your "job" has been more of a vacation where you don't have to do anything." Vagatha responded.

"That is also true." Husk told her, having no shame whatsoever. "But don't get mad at me that no one's taken to this place. I'm just supposed to say welcome and give'em a key." He said.

"Hm, fair." Vagatha agreed as she slowly moved her gaze across the room to the only person who hadn't spoken. "That would be a failure on YOUR part, wouldn't it?" She inquired.

"Are you implying that I haven't held up my end of our business agreement?" Alastor asked, feigning a look of hurt. His voice was muffled and had the quality of a first-generation radio. "I've done all that I can to convince people to give this outlandish idea of yours a try. It can't be helped that even the dumbest Hell has to offer are smart enough to avoid this place like the plague." He said.

"And you stay around because?..." Vagatha pressed, unsure of what Alastor was getting from this.

"For the same reason, I told you when we first met, my dear. Amusement. Seeing you and Charlie stay so committed to this idea of saving sinners from their due punishment, even after it's been proven to be a wash, is hysterical! There'll never be another form of entertainment as perfect as this for the rest of history!" Alastor explained with a hearty chortle.

Hearing his laughter ignited the flames of rage within Vagatha. She was one of the few in Hell who didn't fear the Radio Demon. And she was part of a far smaller group who'd be willing to try and wipe that smug smile off his face. But now was not the time for attempted murder; Vagatha's only priority was Charlie, who needed someone to comfort her before, during, and after the killing began.

Because that's what an Extermination was. Heaven's response to the overpopulation in Hell. Every year, at the same time, Angels with masks and weapons would descend from the silver city and "cleanse" whatever sinful soul they could find. Former human, Imp, Demon, it didn't matter.

The only ones that couldn't be touched were the nobles, who served a purpose in the machinations of Hell, and its royal family, of which Charlie was the princess. Yet despite the terrifying event always looming on the horizon, the sinners never changed. They maintained their mindsets and repeated the actions from their former lives. Something that the absent sixth member of their group was currently doing...

...

...

...

A lone set of boots walked down an empty street. Carried upon them was a recognized face throughout Hell and its many rings. With a body covered in fur as fluffy and white as a cloud and clothes that sharply contrasted with bright pinks and reds. This appearance described only one person: Angel Dust.

Pornstar. Prostitute. Performer. That was the triple threat of this particular spider demon. Whether on a pole in front of a crowd, in a studio with pornographic peers, or working the streets like tonight, Angel Dust was undeniably one of the best.

Unfortunately, this night's earnings were slim. The reason? Nearly everyone in Pentagram City was preparing for the upcoming carnival of carnage. But until the very last second, Angel Dust had to keep working, even if it meant showing up to his employer with little more than pocket change.

"Tsk, another dry night." Angel Dust muttered under his breath as he walked beneath the flickering lights of the street lamps. "A few handies and one blow. I couldn't even convince them to fork out more for some extended anal. Normally, I'd charge extra for that amount of time." He continued complaining while stowing the money in his jacket. "Ah, well. Val shouldn't be too upset about it. He knows this time of year ain't good for business. So long as I give'em something, that'll be fine." He said.

Reaching the end of the road, Angel Dust looked to his left and right to help gather his bearings. Due to his regulars and a general customer base drying up because of the impending Extermination, Angel Dust had to go out of his way to find ANYONE who would buy what he was selling. As a result, he was in a part of the city unfamiliar to him, so he was a bit lost. Searching for landmarks in the distance like the bright neon sign of Porn Studios, or something else recognizable, sadly, everything was being blocked by rundown buildings that filled the area.

And, to make a shitty situation even more so, Angel Dust's lack of direction wouldn't go unnoticed by the local populace.

"Ey! You!" A voice from Angel Dust's left, yet he didn't bother to look in its direction.

In his line of work, it'd be baffling if the arousing arachnid hadn't gotten used to catcalling and commentary from others. That'd be the same as a fireman not getting used to fires; it'd be stupid. Alas, to no surprise, after that phenomenal greeting came the sound of footsteps.

"I'm closed." Angel Dust stated. Wanting nothing more than to call it a night, turn in his profit, and head home to relax.

"Aw, come on. Don't be like that." The same voice complained, its owner now standing beside Angel Dust.

To the stranger's credit, he was an impressive specimen. Tall, beefy, not too ugly, all the requirements to catch the spider's interest. But tonight wasn't this guy's night to get lucky; if he'd been around a little sooner, then maybe. As of now, Angel Dust, as he said himself, was closed.

"It's not every day we get a celebrity around here." The man said, his appearance resembling that of a reptile, specifically a lizard.

"We? Who's we?" Angel Dust asked since there wasn't anyone else around.

"My buddies. They're in that building over there." The lizard answered, pointing his thumb to the building directly behind him. "We saw you walk up the street from a window. We had to do a double take to make sure we weren't seeing things." He explained.

"Good for you." Angel Dust replied before turning away from the man. "Anyway, I'm off. See ya." He bid farewell, completely out of shits to give for this guy and his gaggle of idiots.

An attempt was made to leave. But was prevented as a hand was placed on Angel Dust's shoulder.

"Hey, I said don't be like that." The man repeated. This time his voice was commanding. Or, at least, it REALLY wanted to be. "Now listen. My pals and I haven't had a good lay in a while. And with the upcoming extermination, we're gonna be stuck inside all day, unable to get any. Would you maybe want to help us out with-"

Click

Without any dramatics, Angel Dust casually brought forth his additional arms. An ability he shared with other spider demons. And in the hands of these arms were two pistols that he kept in holsters inside his jacket in case of situations like this. That sound was the safety for both firearms being disabled.

"I. Am. Closed." Angel Dust stated once more; his guns pointed at the man. "I'm tired. I'm hungry. And I need to go to the bathroom. The only addition to that schedule can be putting a corpse in the street. But that's up to you." He informed.

Barely looking over his shoulder to see how the man was reacting, Angel Dust saw his face contort into a grin. The reason? Angel Dust wasn't looking ahead anymore. During their conversation, another demon, one of the man's buddies, had been sneaking in the shadows.

If Angel Dust had cooperated, then nothing would've happened. The man would've taken him inside, and the other demon would've returned unnoticed, the same as how he came outside. But he didn't. And when the spider demon realized he was in someone else's trap, his pistols were already being knocked out of his hands.

Responding to the sudden ambush with a sharp kick to his attacker, while that protected Angel Dust from this new individual, it left him open to the one already present. Using his size and strength to his advantage, the man quickly gained the upper hand by forcing him into a submission hold. Not letting this opportunity be wasted, the man's accomplice in this act began delivering blows to Angel Dust's chest and stomach. One after the other, the impacts came, each hitting harder than the last, all taking the wind out of the poor arachnid.

This continued for nearly three minutes. The men needed to be sure Angel Dust had no fight left in him. And by the time they were certain, the spider demon was practically limp and on the brink of passing out.

"F...F...F..." Angel Dust sputtered out, trying to form a single word.

"Shh, it's okay." The first man whispered, leaning in close to his ear. "Don't worry. We'll take it from here. Just relax and enjoy yourself." He said.

Leaving the pistols in the road, the men took him back to their building. They entered the ground floor room upon arrival, where the rest of their crew awaited. From there, the man that dragged Angel Dust along tossed him onto the floor. Given what they had planned and already done, that was the nicest thing they would do.

"Alright, alright, settle down, boys." The man instructed as the group made various sounds and noises out of anticipation. "I'll get first dibs since I did most of the work. But I'll make sure to spend my time with foreplay. Then we can all dig in and enjoy." He told them, much to their delight.

Knowing he needed to escape, or at least try despite his condition, Angel Dust began pushing himself up from the floor. This was met with a quick yet powerful stomp to the middle of his back, followed by several more from the many men surrounding him.

"No, no, no." The man, clearly their leader, scolded. "You aren't going anywhere. Not until the Extermination's over. And even then, we may decide to keep you. Depending on whether or not Valentino comes looking." He told him.

And with that, it began. Angel Dust heard a few chuckles over the throbbing pain that consumed his body. Soon overtaken by the sound of his clothes being slowly removed rather than ripped or torn from his helpless form. First went his skirt, next his jacket, leaving his underwear as the last barrier between his flesh and these men.

"I...can't...feel...my arms...or...my legs..." Angel Dust thought, struggling not to black out. "Am...I paralyzed...or...am I just...hurting that much?..." He wondered as he felt his underwear move down his body. "I've...got to try...something...anything...I...I don't..."

Suddenly, from outside, one of the flickering street lamps turned on. It was across the street, directly in front of the building. Angel Dust could determine that as the light poured through the front windows. Along with a silhouette that he only saw for a second, as it disappeared when a greater source of light appeared.

Partnered with a loud sound, almost like thunder or a series of small explosions, the room was filled with a bright, blinding, repeating flash. Angel Dust couldn't see what was causing this, but he didn't need to. Based on the sound alone, it was a gun, but not one he'd ever heard until now. Another indicator that this was the source was the men, alive mere seconds ago, now falling dead all around him with baseball-sized holes blown cleanly through them.

After ten, maybe twenty, seconds of these flashes and this sound, they ended. All that disturbed the silence now was the last gasps of whoever survived. But then a new noise appeared. Heavy, powerful, purposeful, those were the words to enter Angel Dust's mind.

Because what made that noise was a pair of feet clad in boots. ARMORED boots. They walked through the room as whoever they belonged to checked the bodies. And upon discovering one of the few survivors, a swift stomp was delivered to their skull, turning it into a puddle of blood polluted with bone fragments.

But before Angel Dust could see more, learn something, ANYTHING at all about this person, what little he had left gave. Allowing darkness to take him.

(A/N: Keep this short and brief. If you're new, you can ignore this. This is for those returning. Redoing my HazbinxDoom stuff. Across all three stories, I was generally unhappy. Redemption had grammatical problems. Salvation was decent in the first half but got messy in the second. And Rebirth, apart from a lack of materials to work with by that point, had issues far too ingrained to be easily solved. I won't spoil what you can expect, only that it'll be entirely new. More focused. More original, but still no OCs. And any non-Doom or Hazbin characters will be like Azrael or Gabriel from before. Actual angels or demons. In conclusion, this won't be a rewrite of what came prior. The only similarity, at least with this story, will be the name. What I hope is for this to be a better approach to the ideas and concepts I sought to explore. I hope you'll enjoy it. Until next time, peace.)