Chapter 12
The Reception
When a group of new guests showed up, it took Eliza no time at all to pick out Vox's spy. He wasn't openly showing it, but had a voxcam hidden in a flower pinned to his chest. It wasn't overly obvious, but he didn't seem like he was trying particularly hard to hide it, either. The demon he sent was a weasel, and was flashing smiles at everyone he passed. He looked like a businessman, and was chatting up anyone who approached him. When he caught Alastor's eye, the Radio Demon looked suspicious of the newcomer. Vox's camera would get glitchy whenever Alastor came into view, and the sound of his voice was muffled, but everything else came in loud and clear. Vox certainly hadn't cared to be subtle, and Eliza considered giving him an earful if she saw him again. She didn't need him stirring the pot on such an important day.
"Why hello there, ma'am!" the weasel greeted when he reached the therapist. "The name's Sean, Sean Scout. May I have the pleasure of an introduction?"
"I'm Eliza," she greeted. "I'm the resident therapist."
"Ah, I see!" he replied, happily. "I fear you'll have your hands full!"
"Very likely," she agreed with a nod. "Though I feel very up to the challenge."
"Excellent! Perhaps you can put this to good use," he said, offering her an envelope. "A gift from a friend. Use it in good health!" And with that, he walked away, and she carefully placed the envelope into her pocket after a brief inspection.
"Getting donations already?" Alastor appeared behind her, openly curious. "A gift for the hotel, or was it… personal?"
"I'm not sure," she answered honestly. "I have yet to open it. I assume, however, that it's for my personal use."
"Ah! Making friends in high places so soon? Good for you!" He seemed oddly jubilant all of a sudden. "Yes, the more the merrier! Keep making connections, my dear, and we'll get this place fully operational in no time!"
She smiled, knowing full well that it was a terrible idea to tell him who the weasel represented. "Yes, of course."
Finally, it was time for Charlie's speech, and Vaggie started herding their guests into the stage room. Once they were all inside, Vaggie grabbed Charlie's shoulder and pulled her into a hug, letting the door swing shut.
"Alright, you've got this," Vaggie encouraged, looking the princess in the eye. Charlie was quite nervous, and was rocking on her feet. "Just remember; we're trying to get them to stay here. We want them to take us seriously."
"I know, Vaggie," Charlie whined. "I'm just so excited! I mean, this is really happening! People are in the hotel to check it out!"
"I know, hun," Vaggie smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her lover's ear. "You'll do just fine, but remember that these people need a reason to stay. They need to understand why this is important, and why they should care about it."
"Are you sure I can't-"
"No, no singing," Vaggie interrupted. "At least not during the speech. Remember last time? You lost it when they laughed at you. We can't do that again, not when we've come this far."
Charlie sighed. "Fine, no singing until after dinner." She was really looking forward to that part, though she desperately wanted everyone to sing. She had originally suggested that all the staff sing a song, but Vaggie talked her out of it, saying it was better to go without singing entirely. Alastor had agreed with Charlie's original idea, so they reached a compromise that the princess would entertain their guests with a song as soon as everyone was done with dinner.
"And remember the points we went over," Vaggie continued, breaking her train of thought. "A chance for safety every year, to see loved ones…"
"I know," Charlie said, more forcefully this time. Vaggie blinked, unimpressed. "I'll be fine. I've got this!"
"Yes, you do," Vaggie agreed, giving her girlfriend a tender kiss before patting her shoulder to guide her inside.
"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen!" Alastor greeted. "So wonderful to see you all here tonight! Now, I would like you all to give your attention to the young woman who dreamed up this mad venture. She's the only being in Hell possibly able to pull off what many believe impossible." 'Including myself,' he thought cheekily. "Please, give a warm welcome to the daughter of the king: Charlie Magne!" His backtrack applauded, signalling the crowd to do the same. It was meager for now, but it was acceptable.
Charlie walked up onto the stage. "Thank you, Alastor," she said sincerely, "and hello, everyone! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" It was so strange for her to call it that. She had to say it several times over the last week to ensure she didn't use its old name by accident. "It's great to meet you all. We are here to celebrate the opening of the first hotel of its kind; one that will rehabilitate sinners! The goal is simple: to negate Hell's overpopulation in a more humane manner, effectively sparing souls from the yearly extermination."
Eliza, who shared her table with Rosie and Mimzy, watched as a couple late-comers entered the room, probably guided in by a grumpy Husk. He had complained earlier that there would be some last-second bastards trying to show up fashionably late. Essentially, they made him have to work harder, and that made him pissy. However, to Eliza's surprise, she recognized one of the people walking in. She held back a grimace and turned back to the stage, ignoring the familiar green bird demoness who attacked her over a month ago. However, Rosie noticed the very brief moment where a tiny shadowy tendril lashed out from the therapist's back and raised an eyebrow.
"Is everything alright, dear?" she asked. Eliza faced her with a smile and nodded once.
"Many of you who want a chance at a better life have friends and family up there," Charlie continued, and both Rosie and Eliza returned their attention to the hotel owner. "People you miss dearly, and I'm sure many of them would love to see you again."
Alastor, who was still standing on the stage off to the side, felt a small twinge of guilt that he hid expertly, thinking of his mother. He knew there was no way she'd want to see him after what he had become after her death, but he still thought fondly of her.
"The hotel will also offer safety from the Cleanse," she informed. "Anyone staying here can hole up inside with the rest of us to ride it out. I know some of you live on the streets, or in abandoned buildings." Some of the guests, including the bird girl Eliza was watching warily, fidgeted slightly. "Well, here at the Hap-" the princess cleared her throat, "-Hazbin Hotel, we will have programs to help you come to terms with what you did to end up here. We also have an experienced therapist on staff, who you'll be talking to and will be keeping a record of your progress!" She threw out her arm towards Eliza, who was sitting to her far left. Many turned to acknowledge her.
"Wonderful to meet you all," she greeted warmly. She locked eyes with her previous assailant, who visibly gulped. Eliza fought the malicious smirk threatening to overtake her face and turned back to Charlie.
The princess continued on, her passion for this project evident to everyone. By the end of it, the applause seemed more sincere, and the princess gave a gracious bow.
"Wonderfully said, my dear!" Alastor praised, joining his business-partner in the center once more. "And, at her request, a short testimonial from our test-patient, Angel Dust!"
Angel strutted onto the stage like he owned it. He got a hoot and holler from several demons who recognized him. "So, yea, obviously a few of ya know me," he started with a wink, causing Vaggie to face-palm. Regrets were made. "Anyway, I've been here almost two months now. Honestly, when this all started, the only allure to this place was the free food and rent. I mean, redemption? Come on!" A few demons laughed in understanding. "And you shoulda seen this place before! For fuck's sake, it was a disaster!"
"Tuvimos que dejarlo hablar…" Vaggie growled, grinding her teeth in irritation.
"Let's be real for a moment, 'k? A lot of you are here for the food, right?" A few chuckles and a 'WOOP WOOP!' were heard. "Well, guess what? After today, you gotta work for it." Silence. "When I first came here, I barely had to do anything. Honestly, this place was a joke. I could come and go as I pleased, joined my friend in a turf war against 'Sir Pretentious'… But after that train-wreck of an interview, things got betta 'round here." He walked the stage like a catwalk, microphone in-hand. "They actually have a plan, now, and it's a pretty damn good one. And trust me when I say that Charlie cares more about you assholes than any of you deserve."
Charlie was surprised. He was being downright brutal, but in a way she hadn't expected. She smiled slightly, actually feeling rather proud of how confident he was. She wondered if it was the drugs or just his own self-confidence working the crowd right now. He had their undivided attention.
"I don't know if you all have what it takes to be betta, but you'd be stupid to not try. I betcha lots of ya don't know what it means to have someone give two shits about you, do you? Well, everyone laughed at her for it, but the chance at having legitimate help is right here. A chance that no one asked for, no one deserves, and yet she went outta her way to do it. Honestly, if it had been left up to me, I'd've let ya burn out your afterlife until someone shoved a spear up yer ass. Oh, and if any of you try anythin', Vaggie's gonna be that someone. Trust me, been close a few times. That bitch has a temper!"
Charlie was so strangely moved that she couldn't bring herself to interrupt. Alastor, on the other hand, held no such reservation.
"That she does!" he agreed, joining the spider on stage, his laugh-track kicking in as he strolled along. "Thank you so much for your honesty! Now, I do believe I promised it would be short, did I not?" That was the most polite Alastor was going to be, and the spider knew it. Angel shot him a naughty smirk as he cheekily dropped the mic into Alastor's open palm.
"All yours, Radio Daddy," he teased, blowing him a kiss and strutting away as Alastor readdressed the crowd, fighting the insatiable urge to backhand the porn-star out of the room entirely. His discomfort was evident, if only for a moment. He didn't know why, but his ears itched as if he was being mocked.
He had no idea it was from one of the top floors of Porn Studios, where Vox was laughing his ass off. Glitchy and muffled though he was, his discomfort was obvious, and it made this entire venture worth it. Vox considered investing just to see that happen regularly, if he could arrange it. Still, he now knew how long Angel had been at the hotel, so his lover would be pleased.
"Now then, let us all make our way to the dining room, where a sizable buffet awaits us all!" Now the guests seemed rather excited, and they all made their way to the dining room.
All except for the green bird demoness, who got to her feet but hung back, searching the room for Eliza. She didn't see the pale woman, and hoped that she was already out of the room. She was planning to avoid her, at least for the evening.
She was not so fortunate.
"How wonderful to see you again." The girl's back stiffened. The therapist's voice was directly behind her. "I'm so glad you're doing well." She turned to face the woman, whose sickly-sweet voice put her on edge. She had been speaking this calmly before crushing her friend's head, and it made her nervous to be so close to her.
"Y-yea," she replied, trying to sound aggressive. "Doin' great." Recovering, she turned up her beak slightly. "An' you, doll? Still blowin' everyone off?"
"Oh, don't misunderstand," Eliza purred. "I'm selective with whom I choose to spend my time, but you and your friends are some of the few people I've had to decline."
"Fuckin' bitch," the bird hissed. Eliza's shadowy tendrils flared, and the bird laughed. "You think your shadow shit scares me?" Her bravado promptly died when a large black hand grabbed her face and lifted her off the ground.
'No killing,' Eliza growled internally.
'But I can make her shit herself,' Id shot back.
"Yes, I do," she replied softly. Her mind briefly returned to an old setting as she added "When you remember me, think fondly of this moment, would you?" She dropped the bird, who fell to the ground, gasping for air. "Fear not, my dear. If you become a guest here, I shall be purely professional. No hard feelings, right?" She walked away, leaving the demoness to catch her breath on the ground.
In the dining room, everyone stood in line, staring hungrily at the spread before them. Meat both cooked and raw, 3 different kinds of salads, fresh fruit, 3 sliced loaves of bread and more. They decided to go all-out for the night, and the guests certainly appreciated it.
When Eliza entered, she was immediately approached by a possible sponsor to talk; a tall Jackal with golden fur and black stripes named Muhtal. Rosie had been about to wave at the young woman, but decided against interrupting.
"Our lovely therapist seems to get along well with everyone," Alastor said, grinning at his friends. "Muhtal must be curious to approach her. Perhaps hoping she'll offer a bone for his sponsorship."
"That sly dog probably wants all the juicy details," Rosie agreed. "Do you think she'll go for it?"
"Not for all the promises he could offer," he stated. "That woman's obsession with professionalism would never allow such a breach in security. She won't even let me have a peek!"
"Don't tell me she actually cares about these low-lives," Mimzy said incredulously.
"I doubt it," Alastor denied. "But anything that jeopardizes her professional standing will make her angry in an instant! No, she will politely decline." Then, more quietly, he added "Honestly, I'm detecting sociopathic tendencies. I don't think she cares an inkling for others." At this, Rosie giggled quietly, surprising her red-clad friend. "Do you disagree, Rosie dear?"
"Oh dear, Alastor," she said, recovering her composure. "Sociopaths care nothing for anyone, but I happen to know someone she cares for quite a bit!"
"And who might that be?" he asked with genuine curiosity.
"Why, a little crow back at Plaisirs Crus," she informed him, quietly. "She dotes on the wretched little thing."
"The one I played with? Truly?" He was honestly surprised. It wasn't common for someone to have a soft spot for the disgusting scavengers, especially the aggressive ones. "Do tell, my dear. I'm not normally one for gossip, but the notion that she cares deeply for something seems laughable at best!"
"Ah, but she's even trained it!" She told him. "That crow is now Plaisirs Crus' little guardian. A couple weeks ago, a customer got angry and transformed, attacking one of the owners, but the little spawn took him on!" She leaned in slightly. "Took out his eyes and left him with some pretty impressive flesh-wounds. Oh, the following blood frenzy was glorious!"
"Such a valorous tale, though admittedly hard to believe. Those birds don't normally do anything to help people. She taught him to do that?"
"Indeed! And, surprisingly, it no longer attacks its own kind. It keeps them away if they trouble the guests, but otherwise leaves them be. She's been a disgustingly good influence on it."
Alastor couldn't help but wonder what would happen if something became of the crow. Still, to hear she could show affection so openly was surprising, to say the least. So it wasn't that she doesn't feel, but that she hides it… Somehow, he found that very irritating. Still, he could find ways to entertain himself with that, despite how unusual it seemed. Just what was she hiding?
In the middle of his thoughts, Eliza joined them at the table, effectively shifting the conversation.
"That was quite the speech, wouldn't you say?" Rosie said. The group shared some small-talk, but Alastor was analyzing her. She was still reserved, and Rosie seemed to be growing fond of her. Even though Rosie never antagonized her, Eliza seemed to treat her with the same politeness as Alastor, who has pestered her on many occasions.
He remembered how she had reacted when he changed the contract. She had been so angry, and she didn't bother to hide it. What else made her angry? What was it about professionalism that made it OK to show anger, whereas other times she couldn't?
"Alastor?" Eliza's voice cut through his thoughts. "You're staring at me." She shared a confused and somewhat disturbed look with Mimzy, who puffed out her cheeks in annoyance.
He smiled. "My apologies, my dear. I was simply lost in thought."
Eliza didn't quite believe him, but decided to go along with it anyways. "Ah, I see. Well in that case, perhaps you'd like to stare at Mimzy this time. I fear she'll rip my head off if you don't!"
Mimzy babbled at the statement a bit and both Eliza and Rosie chuckled at their flustered friend.
"I fear, dear Rosie, that you neglected to mention to our friend that Eliza fearlessly calls us out," he laughed, enjoying Mimzy's irritation. "Dear Mimzy, I fear you'll need to steel yourself with this woman."
"Apparently!" the club-owner agreed, sharing a sharp-toothed grin with the therapist. It was a threat display, and Id was growling in the back of her mind.
'Let me at her…' Id demanded. Eliza felt her shadow wings coiling inside, begging to be released.
"Your threatening expression suggests you're jealous," she stated. "Please understand that any 'relationship' we may have is purely business." She then added in a slightly darker tone; "Do not interfere with my business." They held each other's gaze, and there was a sense of tension between them. Oh, Alastor was very amused right now, and Rosie wondered if the two would get violent in the middle of the party. That would certainly make things interesting.
"You know Mimzy will win," Rosie whispered to her good friend.
"I'm not so sure," Alastor argued. "I've seen that there's more to her than a simple, elegant frame. I'll hold off on this bet until I know more."
"We can hear you, you know," Eliza said, and both she and Mimzy shot them side-long glances. Their sudden synchronicity of movement was, admittedly, rather unnerving.
"Perhaps you should visit my club, sometime," Mimzy offered, the tension not entirely dissolved. "Tell me, sweetie, can ya sing?"
"Not well enough for a stage, I fear," she answered. "It has been years since I've sung in public."
"How about dancing?"
"I… don't know. I took lessons in life, but they were over a decade ago. I would be shaking off so much rust!"
"I remember you dancing around a gorilla demon a while back," Alastor interjected. "With a little practice, I'm sure you'd do quite well!"
"Why, thank you," she said, curtly. Alastor was briefly confused by her slightly rude tone. Before he could say anything…
"Alright, everyone!" Vaggie called, clinking a spoon against her glass. "Finish up. Charlie wants to entertain everyone with a song in the stageroom, and then we'll get everyone's contact information."
The owner and manager left the room to go prepare, followed closely by Alastor, who quickly excused himself. Now that he was no longer present, Mimzy turned to the therapist with a nasty snarl.
"Hands off, ya hear?" she warned. "You're 'business' betta never get personal, especially not with my Ally." Rosie merely sipped what was left of her tea, playing spectator to the pissing match her good friend decided to reinitiate. However, she noticed shadowy tendrils once again forming behind the therapist's back, and wondered briefly if she should become involved.
"If you were so certain he wanted you," Eliza explained, "you wouldn't be so quick to intimidate anyone you think might be a potential rival. Tell me, I'm very curious: What about his treatment of me suggests that I'm any more likely to catch his eye than you? If you've known him for a long time, what has developed in just over a month that concerns you?"
"Nothin'... yet. But you betta watch it, girl. He has a wandering eye for entertainment."
Now, Eliza laughed. "I think you and he share very different opinions on what constitutes 'entertainment'," she stated. "Although… Even if he did decide to find sex and romance appealing, your aggressive pursuit may still turn him off. Perhaps loosening your grip would provide better results? Though I confess, you seem condemned to the friend zone."
"Now, now," Rosie finally interrupted, though she was thoroughly enjoying the mounting tension, "that's enough, you two. Save it for a later date, and a less auspicious occasion. We don't wish to ruin Alastor's wonderful grand opening!"
"You're right," Mimzy said at last, resisting the urge to toss the contents of her cup into the pale demoness' face. "He wouldn't be very happy if a fight broke out."
"Actually, I disagree," Eliza smiled as she stood up to leave the room. "From the way he was watching us earlier, I think he would have adored a brawl between us. Perhaps you would have captured his attention that way, were he still here. That is what you want, correct?" She waved over her shoulder at the pair and left the dining room, followed closely by Vox's spy, who had just finished his meal.
"Little hussy," Mimzy fumed. "Thinking she's hot shit…"
"Let's be honest, my dear," Rosie said, patting her shorter friend on the head, "she wasn't wrong. Alastor's undivided attention is exactly what you want."
"But to say it so bluntly!" she whined.
"She doesn't care for posturing in the same way you do, my dear," Rosie said, soothingly. "Now relax, the evening is almost over! Let's enjoy the moment for our dear friend, shall we?" Rosie had been loath to stop the inevitable fight, but she didn't want to ruin the night. No, not when it meant possibly ruining her friend's plans for entertainment. Let them fight at a later date; now is simply not the time nor the place.
When Charlie and Vaggie entered the stage-room, they stared in surprise at a package. It stood alone in the middle of the stage, wrapped in red-and-white shiny paper and a pink bow. The princess recovered quickly from her shock as she recognized very quickly who it was from. Dancing around it with joy, she searched for a tag and, sure enough, found one in the shape of an apple. On it read "Make life a musical! -Dad"
She giggled and rocked on her feet excitedly, pulling loose the ribbon and letting the box fall open before her. It then proceeded to disappear in a cloud of multicolored, swirling pastel smoke. When it finally cleared, a very simple-looking electronic pad on a stand stood center-stage, looking rather normal for all intents and purposes. But she knew exactly what it was, and it was anything but normal. Charlie let loose a squeal that filled the room, and Alastor walked up to join his business partner next to the strange little device. He wasn't a fan of more modern technology, but he was openly curious about it.
"And what strange gift has been bestowed upon you, my dear?" he asked, bending down to inspect it.
"It's from Dad!" she exclaimed, and she immediately stepped up to the screen and began pushing buttons. Once she was done, the stage shimmered and reformed to accommodate her selection. A piano, two violins and a tambourine appeared.
"Um, what is all this, hun?" Vaggie asked, putting a cautious hand on the princess' shoulder.
Charlie turned to her girlfriend, her face lit up with glee. "You select what you want on here, or pick a song, and whatever you need shows up on stage!" She went up to the piano and opened it up, playing a few notes.
"But don't we need someone to play?"
"Nope! If you select a song, the instruments will play themselves! Or you can select one for someone to play, or-"
"So, this is a really nice gift," the moth interrupted. "Is this really from your dad? I thought he never returned your calls."
"It's from him, trust me!" she confirmed. "This is the best present ever!"
As they continued to inspect the most unique karaoke machine in probably all of Hell, guests began filing in to listen to the princess' song, which would effectively wrap up the evening. When everyone had arrived, Alastor stood center-stage and addressed the crowd. "Thank you all for joining us this evening to celebrate the grand opening of Hell's most ambitious project yet! Now, sit back and relax as our charming hostess does her best to entertain you with a song!" He turned to face his business partner with a wide grin. "It's showtime, my dear!"
Rosie looked over at Mimzy, who puffed out her cheeks at Charlie getting his attention. She sighed. "My dear, you are truly hopeless."
Right before Eliza enters the stage-room:
"I'm afraid I must be off," the weasel declared, making Eliza jump. She hadn't been aware of his close proximity.
"Such a shame," she said. "Still, I'm glad you were able to record for him. Oh, and before you leave…" she held up the envelope between her fingers. "Is this for me, specifically? Or for the hotel?"
"For you, dear lady," he answered, bowing with flare. "So you can become better equipped for the days to come."
"Then thank you." She put the envelope back away. "May your return be swift and safe." She bowed slightly to him, then entered the stage-room. She stood against the back wall, wanting to experience this alone.
"No," Vox answered from the tower, though only his spy could hear him. "Thank you for the invitation."
Author's note:
Just a heads up on something I've decided; there won't be too many interesting references (Like Jack the Ripper and Jeffery Dahmer) or cameos from here on out that don't directly have to do with the hotel, unless it's something I really want to add. What I'm planning to do is complete this story and create a spin-off collection of short-stories that will deal with cameos, references and so on. There are already so many characters in this story that focusing on others bogs it down too much. Sorry to everyone who enjoys the references to real-life criminals or hope to see cameos of minor cannon characters (barring one very important one that'll appear in chapter 17, but that's more than just a cameo), that will be dealt with once this main story is finished. I already have a few ideas, but I need to finish this story first. Otherwise it will drive me insane!
Oh, and for people who are wondering, at the moment I'm working on chapter 22 of this story. Fear not, there are several Saturdays worth of updates coming, lol. Although chapter 22 is kicking my ass right now. I'm on day 2 of severe writers block. Ugh, I hate it when this happens... Wish me luck, everybody!
