Chapter 4: Psychoid

Charlie set up the chairs, humming to herself. She was going to set up just two chairs for her patients, but, to her surprise, Vaggie and Husk also wanted to sit in. So, she went about putting chairs out not only for them, arranging them in a circle around a small table bearing a coffee urn, a box of donuts, and stacks of paper cups, just in case anyone else shows up. Things were really starting to take off!

She turned around at the sound of the door opening, it was Angel Dust. "Angel!"

"Sup, toots," said Angel, winking. "Ya plannin' a town meetin' in here?"

"Hi, Angel! Oh? No, no, Vaggie and Husk wanted to join in today… for some reason."

Angel scoffed and shook his head, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Ain't it obvious? They wanna get a bead on the new guy. Last time we picked up a rando, we almost blew the whole roof off the barn! Just like Snatch to vet the guy, and Husk, I'd bet he's got his buds on the horn diggin' up gang shit."

Charlie was somewhat miffed that this was the default reaction to a new face, but also… oddly proud. Vaggie, of course, would move Heaven, Hell, and Earth to ensure her safety, but for Husk to actually stop drinking long enough to do something resembling work?

'This place must be rubbing off on him~' she thought to herself, smiling, turning to Angel. "Well! I have to say, I like the moxxy! Anyway, find a chair and get comfy, we're going to get to know each other."

"He's a total pussy, what's there t'know?" Angel snorted, crossing his arms, both pairs. "I mean, he's got a nice dick and a tight bod, but the stringbean's soft as overcooked spaghetti. Pass."

"Just as well, I don't think he'd be comfortable with your brand of attention," said Charlie, jotting down this development in her notepad.

Angel turned to her and grinned. "Izzat a challenge?"

The door opened and Husk and Vaggie strolled in, followed closely by Niffty, Razzle and Dazzle who, apparently, decided to come too. Charlie suspected the coffee and donuts had something to do with it. Regardless, she was happy to see them.

"Glad to see you taking an interest in the process," said Charlie as Husk pulled up a chair next to her. "Maybe you'll actually join us one day."

"Hah." The surly drunk grunted, pouring himself a full cup of dark black joe. "Just want to get a feel for this new guy, keep your pants on."

"But these support circles only get fun once the pants come off!" Angel purred, walking his fingers up Husk's leg.

Husk growled and swatted away the intruding hand as Vaggie took a seat next to Charlie. "Swear to God, if he's not joking, I'm gonna have Niffty sew him into his clothes."

Charlie giggled and waved her off. "Oh, no, we try to keep things PG in here. Though I will be gearing up to tackle his promiscuity one day. For now, though, we're focusing on the new guy."

"I gotta admit, I'm curious why he's down here." Vaggie looked over at the door, waiting for him to step through. "I'm not getting a vibe from him, which is weird by itself. I gotta say, I'll be a little let down if it's something stupid like cheating or gambling."

"Maybe he's a closet poonhound," Angel snickered. "Careful, Snatch, he may start humpin' your leg!"

"No…" Charlie said, blushing as she looked at Vaggie. "He gets flustered by that sort of thing."

Vaggie cleared her throat and crossed her arms. "Yeah, be careful what you let the guy touch, he's got powers."

The door creaked open, all heads turned, in walked the little fish demon, fresh from the shower, clean but wearing a thoroughly harrowed expression. He saw the assembled hotel staff and forced a smile, waving to them. "O-oh hello! I didn't expect you all to be here!"

"We're all just so eager to get to know you, Moonchild," Charlie said, gesturing to the seat across from her. "Will that be a problem? If you're uncomfortable with that–"

"Oh, no, no, no! It's fine! I'm fine! I-I'm… just fine."

"Well, that's reassuring," said Husk, rolling his eyes.

"Husk," Charlie said out the corner of her mouth, gesturing to the chair. "Moonchild, please, have a seat."

He seated himself and fidgeted, looking around at the assembled demons, all their eyes on him.

"Alright!" Charlie clicked her pen and gestured to the crew. "I think some introductions are in order! Now, to make Moonchild feel welcome, let's go around and give our names and history? I'll start! Hi everyone, I'm Charlie Magne, I'm the princess of Hell, I was born here, so, yeah! That's why I'm here.

"And these two…" she said, gesturing at the pair of goats presently guzzling coffee and devouring the donuts. "…Are Razzle and Dazzle. my father made them for me when I was little. They're the chauffeurs, janitors, and musical accompaniment."

"Baah." Razzle said through a mouthful of fried dough.

Dazzle's mouth was too full, so he simply waved while slurping coffee.

Moonchild cocked his head to the side, confused. "Musical–?"

"Vaggie, would you like to go next?"

Vaggie nodded and waved at the group. "Hey. My name's Vaggie, I'm originally from El Salavador, I was an, uh, associate of some rather unsavory characters, Cartel types."

Angel pumped an invisible cock in front of his mouth, pushing his cheek out with his tongue.

"Angel!"

"Well, he's not wrong." Vaggie crossed her arms. "I did some bad shit, muled drugs, took blood money. That's why I'm here. Now, I help Charlie with the hotel and its program as an administrator and manager. Angel, you're next."

"Hi everybody, I'm Angel Dust. I'm originally from New York, but since coming to Hell I've mostly been stickin' with the entertainment bizz. You may know me from such films as 'Well… Okay!', and 'Homo on the Range', and who could forget 'How to Train your Spider'! I was a gangster in life and I did, like, all th'drugs, and was generally a great big slut!"

"Hah!" Husk barked, sneering. "'Was'!"

"Just cuz ya can't afford me don't mean ya need to be so salty, Mittens," said Angel, flipping six simultaneous birds.

"Not even with a rented dick!"

"Ya gotta rent a dick? I told ya to be careful with th' manscapin'!"

"You–"

"Husk." Charlie interrupted, her tone warm but authoritative. "Why don't you go next?"

"Uhhh…" He looked out at the circle of expectant faces, long, red eyebrows canting downward. "Fuck, uh, put me on the spot, why dontcha? My name's Husk, I, uh, gamble and… fuck this. Pass! Roadkill, you're up!"

All eyes turned to Moonchild, who blinked and pointed to himself. "I'm Roadkill?"

"Well, Chuck did dig ya outta her grill before ya got here."

Charlie leaned forward and pat him on the thigh. "If you're not comfortable just yet, that's fine, Moonchild."

"No, no, it's just…" He squeezed his hands shut and took a deep breath, nodding. "Okay! Hello everyone, my name is Moonchild."

"Hello, Moonchild."

He cleared his throat and shrugged. "I'm originally from Sardinia, but spent most of my adult life in Naples."

"Eyy!" Angel cheered, grinning. "A fellow paisan! I thought yer accent sounded familiar."

"And you," said Moonchild. "I didn't want to assume. You said you were from New York, but where does your family hail from?"

"Sicily, both sides." Angel polished his nails on his lapel, looking exceedingly pleased with himself. "S'posedly I gots blood all the ways back t'Rome."

"Rome, huh?" Husk said, laughing sourly. "That explains a lot."

"The fuck–?"

"Husk, Angel, Moonchild is talking," Charlie said, turning back to him. "Please, go on."

"Thank you. As for why I'm here, well…I'm not too sure, myself. I've always gone out of my way to be polite and kind, in truth, I've always been averse to conflict. My old Boss would use me as a middleman and send me to resolve tension among the employees. I don't recall hurting anyone or stealing anything. I've always felt that I don't belong here, that someone made some kind of mistake."

Charlie nodded, jotting down on her notepad. "I see… can you think of anything at all that might explain why you're down here? You mentioned a boss, can you tell us what you did for a living?"

"Oh, ummm…" Moonchild rubbed his chin, recalling. "Oh, well, for a while I was an itinerant worker around Italy, then I landed on a job as an excavator in a Naples-based archaeological expedition to Egypt. Things get… fuzzy, around this time, but I recall helping my future boss secure some kind of transaction, a major transaction that got him a lot of money. What else, what else… oh! Right! I was also the Underboss for the Passione association."

"Egypt, huh? HowsSSSPPT!" Angel spat his coffee back into his cup.

Charlie tapped her pen against her lips. "Yeah that all sounds pretty–excuse me, what was that last part?"

"I was the Underboss for Passione, it was–"

"It was just the most infamous crime syndicate in alla Italy!" Angel spat. "Even I hearda them down here!"

"Heard they held down all of Naples and most of Venice with less than a thousand guys," Husk said, pointing to Moonchild. "And you expect us to believe you were the fuckin' Underboss of that get-up?"

"It's the truth, what more can I say?" Moonchild shrugged. "I honestly didn't do much more than convey the Boss' orders and settle disputes between members. I was his mouthpiece, if any of the members acted against me, they acted against him."

"Scary fucker if none of 'em did," Angel said, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"Oh, you have no idea."

"Okay…" Charlie said, choosing her words carefully, hands pressed together in front of her. "That might have something to do with your damnation."

"I never hurt anyone…" Moonchild mumbled, staring at the floor .

"Yes, true," said Charlie, an uneasy look on her face. "Buuut there is such a thing as 'guilt by association', you know? You may not have given any orders or executed anyone, but you were still part of the upper structure of a violent organization."

"But–" Moonchild began to say, biting his lip and nodding. "You're right."

Charlie eyed him up from across the circle, her keen eyes poring over his delicate features. There was resistance there, some reluctance to admit to his wrongdoings, for the first time since she met him she was detecting deception, secrecy, something hidden and buried. Dishonesty with one's self, she was finding, was just as much a roadblock to redemption as genuine lack of remorse.

"Moonchild," she said, leaning forward and touching his knee. "It's okay. We're all here for a reason, and the only way for us to leave is to better ourselves. We're here to support you in this, just like you will support us going forward. Okay?"

Moonchild looked up to her and smiled, something like resolve shining in his eyes. "You're right! If I'm going to get out of here, all I have to do is whatever you say! I mean, you wouldn't go through all this trouble and effort if you didn't know what you were doing!"

A round of rueful grumbles and stifled laughs sounded from the circle, Charlie chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of her neck, eyes darting about. "Ha ha ha… yeah…"

"Well said!" Alastor barked, suddenly standing next to Moonchild.

Moonchild screamed and leapt out of his chair, stumbling over his own feet and tumbling to the floor, crawling away from the looming Radio Demon, his eyes wide with terror. "A-Alastor?!"

"I see we have a new client," Alastor said, offering his hand. "Care for a hand?"

Moonchild glanced at the extended limb, Alastor's ruby talons clenched as a surge of green energy arced between his digits.

Alator's smile widened, his eyes glowing. "Won't you take this poor sinner's hand?"

Moonchild slowly raised a trembling hand, only to have Charlie step in and push Alastor's away, setting herself between the Radio Demon, her arms crossed. "Alastor. What did I say about scaring my clients?"

"That it highlighted my irreverent puckish charm?"

"True, though I recall my exact wording was 'don't'."

Alastor clasped his hands behind his back and laughed ghoulishly. "Ahh, Miss Magne, how you've stepped up! I must say, it warms my heart to see you coming into your own so fiercely. And look! All these happy, hopeful faces! Could redemption be the next big fad?"

"It's too early in the morning for your bullshit, Al," said Husk, taking a hit from his pocket flask.

"It's nine," said Vaggie. "At night."

"Way too fuckin' early."

"I heard there was coffee and donuts!" Niffty chirruped.

"There were," Vaggie grumbled as Razzle and Dazzle scarfed down the fried dough.

Angel Dust helped Moonchild to his feet. "Oh, uh, thank you, Angel."

"Thank me later," said Angel, winking as he licked a donut in an obscenely suggestive manner.

"They're practically angels already!" Alastor cackled, clapping his hands together. "You are truly honing your craft!"

"I'll have you know, we've already made some excellent progress!" Charlie said, smiling as she crossed her arms. "Mr. Moonchild here has already come to terms with his damnation, now it's just a matter of remodeling his soul into a redeemable state, it'll take no time at all!"

"He's already half-way there!" Alastor leaned in, his jaundiced smile taking on a spiteful energy. "Why, you might even keep this one alive!"

The room went silent, the goats froze mid-bite, Niffty gasped, her hands shot to her mouth as Vaggie and Husk exchanged nervous glances. Charlie, her eyes wide with shock, uncrossed her arms, hands balling into fists for a moment before relaxing, her expression fixed and stern. "Alastor. That was uncalled for."

"Fucking grinnin' piece of shit!" Angel snarled, marching over to the leering red deer demon. "Show ya ta fuckin'–"

Charlie's arm shot out, stopping Angel in his tracks. The spider demon looked down and saw the look on her face and relented, pointing at Alastor and spitting, returning to his chair.

"Alastor," said Charlie, her tone as cold as the Ninth Circle. "This is a sinner support meeting, if you're not here to help with everyone's redemption, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Alastor locked Moonchild with a crimson gaze. "A few boos from the gallery, eh? Alright, a good showman can read a crowd! I guess we'll have to get acquainted some other time, little secretary!"

With a bow, Alastor tapped his staff to the floor and disappeared in a squelch of static. The circle deflated somewhat, the tension having finally let slide. Angel seethed in his seat, pouring himself a cup of coffee before holding it out to Husk, who promptly poured a generous amount of whiskey into it. Charlie sighed and massaged her temples, turning to the rest of them.

"Alright… I think that's all for today. We made some pretty good progress, Moonchild." She gestured to him and Angel. "Tomorrow after work, I'd like to see if we could try to get to know one another better. I'm thinking we could try a hobby swap, that's always a good time."

"Oh, yeah," Angel muttered, glaring at his coffee. "Good ol' hobby swap."

"Oh, yes, that'll be very interesting," said Moonchild, uncomfortable with the pall that had fallen over the group.

Charlie smiled without much enthusiasm. "Great. I'll see you all there."

The demons filed out of the room slowly, Vaggie and the Goats accompanied Charlie out the door, their expressions not unlike that of people working with live and unpredictable explosives. Niffty set about cleaning up all the cups and wiping down the table. Angel Dust knocked back his spiked coffee and tossed the empty cup onto the floor, heading off towards the door as he fished a cigarette out of his breast pocket.

"Oh, Angel Dust!" Moonchild said, following after the somber spider. "Hold on a moment!"

Angel turned around and sighed, rolling his eyes. "What is it, kid?"

"I was just thinking, if we're going to be doing this program together, maybe we could–"

"Imma shut ya up right there, kid," said Angel Dust, holding up his hand as he lit the cigarette with another. "Ya gotta sweet face and a nice cock, but y'gotta pay just like everyone else. Goin' rate is a hunnit clams an hour. Two if ya wannit weird."

"What?" Moonchild's eyes went wide and he shook his head fervently. "Oh, no, no, no I'm not looking for that! I just thought we could get to know one another, spend some time together, talk about this redemption thing."

Angel sighed and examined his nails. "Hunnit clams an hour."

"Oh, I, uh, don't really have much money…"

Angel leaned over until he was face to face with the smaller demon, lip curled over his sharp fangs. "Then why are ya wastin' my fuckin' time?"

Moonchild said nothing, looking at his feet, wincing when Angel Dust puffed a cloud of acrid smoke in his face. Angel Dust scoffed and stormed out of the room, taking a heavy drag on the cigarette. Moonchild balled his fists, squeezing until blood threatened to flow as his claws dug into his palms.

"Don't take it personal, kid."

Moonchild turned around to see Husk, reclined in the chair, a cup of what was only partially coffee in his claws. "Huh?"

"The Bug, he's usually less of a raw nerve." Husk took a sip of his coffee and pointed at his face. "That grinnin' shitheel dropped in and done poked a tender spot for all of us."

Moonchild nodded, he'd noticed that much, even Charlie looked like she was going to punch something. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

Husk grunted waved him over, patting the seat next to him. "Well, if you're gonna walk this path, I might as well tell you where the landmines are. C'mere."

Moonchild sat down and poured himself a cup of coffee, opening his mouth to protest when Husk moved to pour whiskey into it, but was silenced with a chiding glare.

Husk sat back and scratched his nose. "Awhile back, when the hotel was just starting out, we got this new client. A demon by the name of Mr. Clean. 'Course we didn't know that at the time, he called himself Kira. He was this quiet, stone-faced motherfucker with no sense of humor. He was also a violent serial killer who collected women's hands. Nice guy, huh? But that's just it, he came to us a right fucked up psycho who had about as much humanity as a pet rock, but after spendin' a bit of time here, he… changed. It's hard to really explain it, since it's not like he started smilin' and singin' and dancin' like Chuck, but he got, I dunno, better. He and Angel, they got close. I think the Bug actually fell for the lunatic, and I can't say the feelin's weren't mutual, if I'm being honest…"

"What happened to him?" Moonchild took a heavier swig of his spiked coffee, wincing at the alcohol. "Did he cross over? Redeem himself?"

Husk sighed and shook his head. "There was some gang shit that followed the guy here. Long story short, he got himself killed savin' us, all of us. Chuck and Angel took that pretty hard, and even I didn't hate the guy by the end. So, that's what happened back there. That smug smilin' jackass knows a sore spot when he sees it, and just loves to give 'er a poke."

Moonchild stared into his cup, his reflection staring back at him from the opaque liquid. He was dead? Wasn't he redeemed? Is it even possible? What was he even doing here, risking his position in Stolas' employ for a pipe dream?!

"Hey," Husk said, beckoning him closer. "I'm not, like, 100% on this place, but I've seen a lot more people bite it than I care to count, and what I saw that day I ain't never seen before."

"What did you see?"

"Smoke. This weird, golden smoke." Husk gestured to his chest and pointed to the ceiling. "It came streamin' outta him, it was glowin' like… I dunno. Never seen the like. The guy came to us a stone cold killer and wound up givin' his life to save us, then this weird holy-looking smoke pours out of him when he dies? Yeah. I'd bet good money that Chuck's onto somethin'."

Moonchild leaned in, whispering. "Do you think he got redeemed, that he went to Heaven or wherever?"

Husk shrugged, leaning back. "Who can say? Point is, folk around here prefer to think he made it, Angel especially. Don't let him catch you doubtin' the program, the Bug's got an exorcist's knife and he's not afraid to carve a fucker up."

Moonchild nodded somberly, finishing up his coffee. "I see now. Thank you for telling me."

"Don't mention it," Husk grunted and scratched his belly, standing up and heading for the door. "Oh, and kid. One more thing."

"Yes?"

He turned around and pointed, his stare withering. "I dunno what you did to get down here, but it really don't matter. This ain't a game of poker, y'can't bluff yer way out. It's gotta come from you, and you have to want it. Y'have t'be honest. Whatever shit yer keepin' to yerself, that's gotta come out if you wanna get redeemed. Either way, you got some work ahead of you, but so does everyone else. Let Chuck do her thing, what's the worst that could happen?"

He made to leave when Moonchild called out. "Mr. Husk!"

Husk turned around and what he saw made his hackles rise: Moonchild was sitting there, looking like a beaten dog, but there was something in his eyes, his tired, sad eyes, that put Husk's teeth on edge. For the barest moment they flickered, shifting from fuchsia to bright jade green, with all the warmth and humanity of the color's namesake rock.

It was only for an instant, the lad was back in an instant, his expression shifting to that familiar passive amicability. "Thank you for your feedback. I'll do my best."

Charlie stormed into her office, dropping down behind her desk and into her chair, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips. She gingerly massaged her temples as Vaggie and Razzle entered the room. Their careful movements, their measured steps, all grated on her nerves. Part of her wanted to snap at them for treating her like a bomb that could go off at the slightest jostle. Then, realizing what a self-defeating exercise that would be, simply bent over and lightly slammed her forehead into her desk with a dull thud.

"Poop."

Vaggie was at her side in an instant. "Hey, babe."

"Bah?" Razzle asked.

"I'm okay," Charlie mumbled, face-down on her desk. "I just gonna sulk for a bit."

"Well, let's sulk together, huh?" Vaggie said, pulling up a chair. "Other than that last bit, I think tonight went pretty good!"

"You do?" Charlie said, turning her head on the desk, looking up at her.

Vaggie shrugged and gestured 'so-so'. "Eh."

Charlie groaned and sat back up. "I bet Moonchild think's we're all a bunch of loons, now."

"What? No!" Vaggie said, patting her on the shoulder. "Why would he think that?"

"Because we hang around with the Radio Demon? Because said Radio Demon thinks we're all a bunch of idiots? Because of the whole 'redemption is bullshit' thing?" Charlie said, her tone flat.

"All three? Yeah. Probably all three."

"Charlie, don't let Alastor get to you," said Vaggie, casting an arm over Charlie's shoulders, pulling her close. "You know he's just pissed you were right."

"Right about what?"

"About the hotel, about the program, about people," said Vaggie, leaning in to boop her on the nose. "About everything. That musky, leering dipshit literally did a whole song and dance about how demons are irredeemable and the hotel is a joke. And what did you do? You went and took the baddest, most feared assassin in all of Hell and turned him into a giant pussy-cat!"

Charlie smiled despite herself, glancing over at Vaggie. "I wouldn't go that far."

"Oh please!" Vaggie scoffed, grinning now, batting her eyes. "All you'd have to do was bat your eyes and ask nicely and he'd have let you rub your face on his tummy!"

"Pssh!" Charlie laughed and returned the hug, donning an exaggerated expression of longing. "If only!"

"You thirsty bitch," Vaggie said, rolling her eye.

"Aaaaaabbssss~" Charlie said, rubbing her face and laughing.

Vaggie joined her and they leaned on one another as the tension melted away with their laughter. Charlie slowly looked over to Vaggie, sighing heavily as she reached up and cupped her cheek with her hand. "Thanks, Vaggie."

"I'm here for you, hun," said Vaggie.

Razzle, eyes full of happy tears, fluttered up to them and wrapped his arms around them in a hug. "BAAAAH!"

"Right, right. We're here for you."

Dazzle stepped in through the door and flew over to them, a tall mug of steaming tea in his hoof.

Charlie sniffed it and smiled. "Camomile? Oh, you guys know me so well! Bring it in! Group hug!"

The four drew in close and embraced on another, smiling contentedly as a fifth, much larger set of arms wrapped around them.

"Ah yes!" Alastor crooned, giving them a squeeze. "One big happy family!"

The quartet's eyes snapped open, their smiles instantly replaced with shock and horror. An instant later they were on the opposite side of the desk, warily watching the chuckling horror.

"Alastor!" Charlie exclaimed, standing up. "What are you doing here?"

"Why, Miss Magne! Isn't it obvious? I saw a wholesome, team-building moment and decided to partake! Not everything I do is part of some sinister scheme or devious deed. Is it so hard to believe that I sincerely wish to assist you and your team in your estimable endeavor?"

Charlie folded her arms across her chest, her glare withering. "Yes."

"Oh!" Alastor cried, hand to his heart in a maudlin display of affront. "You wound me!"

"What do you want, asshole?" Vaggie growled, slamming her hands down on the desk. "What makes you think we'd believe you want to help, after what you just pulled?!"

"Ah, and here I thought this place gave everyone a second cha–"

A keening metallic 'shing' cut the air as Vaggie leveled her massive, seraphic harpoon-tip at Alastor's neck, her speed actually making him blink and draw back. "Speak. Plainly. Dick."

Alastor's grin shrank into a smirk as he pushed the blade away from him with a crimson talon. "Oh, alright! You were right. Is that what you so desperately wanted to hear?"

Charlie stepped forward and bade Vaggie to lower her harpoon, cupping her hand to her ear. "Excuse me?"

"You were right about redemption," said Alastor before wagging a finger. "However, I maintain that most who pass through these doors will fail most spectacularly!"

"So, I was right." Charlie smirked and steepled her fingers, a playful moue on her face. "And you were…?"

"Gloating becomes you, Miss Magne," said Alastor, eyebrow cocked. "And I… was wrong."

"Mmmm…" Charlie closed her eyes and savored it, smiling like she'd just had a sip of good tea. "One more time."

"Don't push your luck."

Vaggie stepped in, an unimpressed look on her face. "Alright. What do you want? You wouldn't pretend to apologize if you didn't want something."

"Why, Miss Vaggie, I'll have you know I am fully capable of admitting fault without ulterior motive." He eyed her up, his grin immovable as always. "Though such a occurrence eludes documented precedent."

"Just spill it!"

"Very well, I just thought I'd let you know, Prince Orobas is in something of a tizzy. Some clap-trap about troubling visions and signs."

"So?" Charlie said, crossing her arms. "Orobas freaks out over everything! He once sent twenty legions of elite warriors to destroy a neighborhood because a fortune cookie he bought there matched his horoscope!"

"What, really?" Vaggie said, incredulous.

"Hey, cut him some slack," said Charlie, shrugging. "Being a prophet in Hell would make anyone jumpy."

Alastor cackled and slapped his knee. "One of my better pranks, if I do say so myself!"

"That was you?!" Charlie said, outraged. "They slaughtered millions!"

Alastor paused for a moment and then laughed even harder.

"So the guy's a hair-trigger," said Vaggie, crossing her arms. "You know that, so what's special about this time?"

"Ah, well," Alastor said, his tone becoming something resembling severe. "He's dispatched Grand Duke Sallos to investigate."

Charlie's eyes snapped open wide. "Oh."

"What?" Vaggie turned to Charlie. "What does that mean?"

"Sallos is a very old, very powerful member of the Goetia Family." Charlie seated herself on the desk, it felt as though an immense weight had been set upon her shoulders. "So powerful, my father selected him and two other Dukes to be the peacekeepers among the Inner Circle, sent to resolve internal disputes and maintain law and order."

"Law and order in Hell?" Vaggie scoffed. "Didn't you say he printed and enforced those stupid lawbooks just to annoy anarchists?"

"You don't understand." Charlie shook her head. "They… we're different. Once you get into the upper brackets of the Goetia Family, my father's court, the Nephilim, maintaining a strict of code of conduct, we call it 'decorum', is absolutely vital. A bad enough feud between sufficiently powerful demons could cause the seven rings to collapse, and send all the souls within plummeting into the lower circles, the into the Abyss. Peacekeepers like Sallos are only summoned when such a threat arises."

Vaggie was silent, her eye wide as a harrowed look spread across her face.

"So…" Charlie said, slowly turning to Alastor, dreading the answer. "What does that have to do with us?"

Alastor shrugged, amusement returning to his staticky voice. "Maybe nothing."

"Alastor."

"Refresh my memory, what does our newest rehabilitee do for a living?"

"He's a secretary." Charlie sighed and massaged her temples, a migraine was a-brewin'. "…For Prince Stolas."

Alastor winked, tapping his nose and pointing at her. "Ding ding ding!"

"Stolas is under investigation?" Vaggie said, having snapped out of her shock. "What for?"

"Don't know, even my sources have limits. But it's him and a few other major players getting the ol' snoop," said Alastor, his hands clasped behind his back. "One of whom is a ranking member of Ol' Snorkle's crew. Now, I'm not one to believe in coincidences, so I'd say the little fish warrants a closer look, wouldn't you, Charlie?"

Charlie digested this for a moment; part of her warned against falling for another one of Alastor's pranks, to be drawn into some spiteful scheme by the bored, malicious entity. But another, deeper part of herself suspected, no, knew he was telling the truth. Alastor was many things, and chief among them was 'prideful'. He would not even feign contrition if it wasn't absolutely necessary. And if he was right, and her client was in some way related to the ducal investigation, all the more reason to prepare and bring her biggest guns to bear on the problem.

"…Okay. You can be part of the team and participate in treatment. But No funny business! They're my patients, they're under my protection! No matter what we find out, you can't harm any of them! Deal?"

Alastor's aura glowed and undulated, the lights flickered and dimmed, vanta-black tendrils writhed in the long, deep shadows of the room as his awesome might was brought to bear. He turned to face her, his face a leering horror of teeth and eyes as wing-dings and glyphs floated in the air around him. He extended his hand, green energy flashed and arced as he prepared The Pact.

Charlie hesitated for a moment before swallowing her fears and taking his hand. The Pact flared with a buzzing cry, Vaggie and the Goats were thrown back by the force of the two demonic auras clashing.

The Pact was sealed.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Miss Magne."