Chapter Rating: Mature (Explicit in future chapters)
Warnings: language, drug references, manipulation, demonic references
Whipping around, you expected to see an old television or a radio considering the voice you heard had an obvious static overlay. What you didn't expect was to see a tall, lanky, and extremely sinister-looking demon, peering down at you with glowing red eyes.
His gaze seemed to pierce through your very soul as you stared back at him, lost for words as you tried to fully take in his appearance. Your vision flickered from his blood-red eyes, to his sulfur-colored, jagged teeth, to his bow tie and red pinstripe suit. He seemed to notice your trepidation, his wide and wicked grin spreading impossibly further as he gauged your reaction.
He stood with proper posture, his shoulders held back and his chin raised in a formal pose. One of his arms was positioned behind his back while the other held a staff with what appeared to be an old fashioned microphone fixture on the top.
"Cat got your tongue?" he teased, clearly amused with your inability to speak.
"S-sorry," you stuttered, clearing your throat. "Uh… hi."
"Pleasure to meet you, sweetheart!" he exclaimed, reaching forward to take your hand in his. Taking you by surprise, he pulled you aggressively towards him before he pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your hand. "Alastor's the name. And who might you be?"
Unable to control your limbs and take your hand back, you continued to stare wide-eyed at him, unable to properly form words. "I… um… I-I…"
Growing impatient, the demon interjected, "You do have a name, don't you? Come now, don't be a cancelled stamp, sweetheart."
The way he spoke made it obvious that he was from a different era. His old-timey phrases and speedy speech reminded you of old black and white movies that you had seen throughout your lifetime. It was endearing in an odd way, but was also a lot for you to take in considering your current predicament.
Taking a breath to steady your nerves, you finally answered, "My name is Y/N."
"Y/N? Why, that's delightful. Just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it? Splendid! You're not from around here, are you darlin'?"
"W-what gives you that impression?" you pressed, still not sure what his intentions were with you.
"Well, my dear, for one, you're alive. There hasn't been a living soul down here in… well, ever, to my knowledge."
He seemed to have a permanent smile that completely unnerved you, causing a chill to run down your spine. His absurdly large and pointed teeth were intimidating to say the least, and he had a way of making everything he said sound sinister, despite his cheery disposition and radio-like commentary.
"Secondly," he continued, "You're purely human. Hell is filled with anthropomorphic beings, sweetheart. I'm afraid you stick out quite drastically. If your intention was to fly in under the radar, it seems you're off your trolley!"
"...What?"
He cackled at your obvious confusion before tapping on the microphone at the top of his staff. "Hello! Is this thing on?! Can you read me loud and clear?"
It was too much. This guy was talking nonsense and it was just enough to start to push you over the edge. Your sanity was on the brink of eradicating itself, and you needed a minute to collect your thoughts.
He seemed to pick up on your wavering mental stability and stilled for a moment, offering to tend to you. "What do you need, darlin'? Some giggle water? A gasper?"
Against your better judgement, you groaned, vocalizing your frustration as you held your head in your hands. "Look… Alastor, right?" He nodded his head promptly. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't know if this is your… shtick, or whatever," you commented, gesturing towards him, earning a smirk from him in return. "But, I can't handle this right now. I appreciate your… uh… hospitality, but up until twenty minutes ago, everything was fine, and now, I'm in some weird cartoon universe, and I'm having a hard time coping, so just… give me a minute? Please?"
Though Alastor was still smiling, something about the way he looked at you gave you the sense that he was somewhat disappointed. "Dear, I was only-"
"Hey! You heard her! Back off!"
Both of you turned your attention to the voice approaching you from down the hall. Coming towards you was a feminine moth creature with long white hair topped with a pink bow and a large X over her left eye. As she drew nearer, you noticed the disapproving scowl on her face directed towards Alastor.
"Vaggie," Alastor greeted cooly. "Always a pleasure."
"Mhmm," Vaggie mumbled suspiciously, her eyes narrowing at the demon before turning towards you and placing her arms protectively around your shoulders. "I'm Vaggie," she greeted. "Come on. We'll get you set up in a room."
"Uh, sure. Okay," you agreed, letting her lead you down the hall. Not wanting to be rude, you turned back around for a moment to address the red-eyed demon. "It was nice to meet you, Alastor. I guess I'll see you around."
His lips peeled back to reveal the familiarly wicked grin as he replied. "Oh, yes, dearest. Sooner than you think."
Trying your best to ignore the shiver throughout your body, you continued to be led by Vaggie up the stairs and through the winding hallways of the hotel until you had reached what would become your room.
Vaggie led you through the doors to reveal a large room with tall ceilings. The bed was king-sized with beams on each corner adorned with a black canopy on the top. There were two giant windows with the curtains drawn, probably for your benefit. A dresser was on one side of the room, with an armoire on the other side, and a regal vanity in the corner. On the opposite end appeared to be a door that led to your own private bathroom.
Once you had gotten a feel for the room, you noticed that Charlie was next to the entryway, apparently waiting for you. "Welcome!" she greeted enthusiastically, throwing her arms in the air to emphasize her excitement. "I see you've met Vaggie. She's my better half."
Vaggie smiled sheepishly, trying her best to hide her blush.
Charlie grinned at her in return before approaching you. "Listen… I know you're scared, and this is all really overwhelming, but we'll help you, I promise."
"Just… try to keep a low profile," Vaggie encouraged. "Stay away from the shitlord and you should be just fine."
"Why? Is he bad?" you inquired, your interest slightly piqued.
Simultaneously, the girls answered with opposite responses.
"No!"
"Yes."
Quirking your eyebrow, you glanced back and forth between them as Vaggie rolled her eyes. "Charlie is endearingly optimistic."
"I can't just assume that every demon that walks through our doors has bad intentions. We've got to give him a chance. He's been nothing but helpful since he's gotten here," Charlie countered. "He… has a certain reputation is all."
Vaggie scoffed, crossing her arms, not bothering to hide her disdain. "That's one way of putting it. Listen, just do your best to avoid him. I don't trust him, and you'll be better off. Trust me."
"Um… okay, sure," you agreed, making a mental note to find out more about him later. Your brain was just too tired to process anything further.
"Well, I'm sure you want to rest," Charlie insisted, changing the subject. "Your room is fully stocked, but if you need anything else, Vaggie and I are just down the hall in the last door on the left."
"Got it," you confirmed, nodding your head.
"You might also come across some of the other hotel staff," Charlie continued, still beaming with pride and excitement. "Niffty helps clean, and Husk mans the front desk."
"We only have one other guest at the moment," Vaggie added. "Angel Dust shouldn't bother you too much. If he does, just ignore him. Or strangle him. Either one works."
"Thank you," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. "I mean it… if it weren't for you two…" You couldn't bring yourself to finish. You would probably actually be dead by now if Charlie didn't find you when she did.
"Happy to help," Charlie replied, giving you a sympathetic smile. "Get some rest!"
The two of them stepped out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Wanting to distract yourself, you sauntered over to the windows, pulling back the curtain and peering out of the grime-covered glass.
It was Hell in all of its glory. Strange, crooked, decrepit buildings lined the streets, which were filled with colorful, and yet terrifying animal-hybrid beasts. You had wondered briefly if you were to have actually died, and if this was your Hell, what would you look like? What animal would you represent? The thought of it made you laugh to yourself. The absurdity of it all was too much.
"Magnificent, isn't it?"
The unexpected voice made you yelp, flipping around so quickly that you almost tripped over yourself to gaze at your intruder, who was none other than the Radio Demon. "Jesus Christ!" you choked out, placing a hand over your chest to steady your beating heart.
"Hmm… not quite," he replied with a wink.
"Alastor, w-what are you doing in my room?" you asked, your voice shaking. "Y-you can't just…" you trailed off, remembering what Vaggie had said about him and deciding it was better not to antagonize him.
"I was displeased with the way our conversation was cut short," he insisted, twirling his staff around in between his fingers casually. "You've piqued my interest, and I would like to know more about you."
Your eyes narrowed at him, unsure as to whether or not he was telling the truth. On the one hand, if the tables were turned, you'd be curious, too. However, on the other hand, he was about as trustworthy as a snake, and you could now feel the menacing vibe radiating from him.
"I'm not sure what it is you'd like to know," you uttered, keeping your guard up.
He crept towards you, his footsteps making no sound whatsoever as he approached you, his wicked grin spreading across his face as he answered, "Everything."
You found yourself backing up, trying to distance yourself from him, only to be met by the wall, preventing you from moving any further.
He noticed your hesitance and halted his movement momentarily. "Dear, if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done so already."
How comforting , you thought sarcastically to yourself.
Still sensing your fear and lack of trust, he extended a hand to you. "If I may?"
Gawking at his hand, you stammered, "I-if what?"
Chuckling darkly, the demon explained, "I can see that you're weary and skeptical of your surroundings, myself included. If you give me your hand, I can help you."
"Why would you want to help me?"
"Consider it a favor," he divulged, his smile never wavering. "After all, this is a rehabilitative facility, is it not? Can't a demon extend a helping hand?"
He reeked of mistrust. His intrigue and offer to help was obviously for selfish reasons, but if you were being honest with yourself, you weren't sure that you were in any position to turn down assistance from anyone here, especially one with a reputation like Alastor's.
Hand shaking, you started to reach for his own, trying your best to think positively despite the malicious gleam in his eye.
"That's it, dearest," he urged, remaining still so as to not spook you any further.
You were well aware that this might be the stupidest thing that you had ever done, but if you were being honest with yourself… you were desperate. If he could actually help you, you were in no position to turn him down.
The moment your hand touched his glove, he enveloped your hand in his, closing his fist tightly and taking a giant step towards you. He placed his other large hand on the top of your head, immediately making you feel light-headed and woozy.
"Do not fret! Just relax." Despite his reassuring words, you felt yourself start to panic. Your vision began to blur and you felt yourself falling into unconsciousness due to whatever it was that he was doing to you.
It could have been your own delusions, but you could have sworn that as you started to drift off, Alastor's face changed drastically. His smile remained predominantly diabolic, but his eyes dilated into unnaturally large glowing red orbs, shadowed by a ring of darkness, making him appear as something out of your deepest, most heinous nightmare.
His voice seemed to drop an octave, laced with a horrific screech as he whispered to you, "Smile, my dear! You know, you're never fully dressed without one!"
That was the last thing you heard before you slipped away into blackness.