Hello hello! OK WOW. I was NOT expecting to get so many views when I updated. I'm honestly kinda feeling somethin' like stage fright right now. Thank you all so much, it means the world to me! Thank you for the favorites and everything! I hope you're enjoying the story. I fianlly got around to watching the Addict music video. OH BOY. the animation was GORGEOUS as usual but man I feel so bad for Angel Dust, I just want to give him a hug, and I don't like spiders. It just really broke my heart... I hope things will turn out okay for him in the end. I was really excited to see Fat Nuggets tho. c: Also Chi-Chi's a really talented singer I was so excited when I saw her name in the credits I've seen some other stuff she's done. She doesn't nromally voice Cherri Bomb, does she? I need to check again... anyway hope you are all well and you enjoy this new chapter! c:

Chapter Four: Deer Me

That wretched roach certainly has made himself at home in the hotel, Alastor mused to himself as he skimmed through the restaurant menu. Though most perturbed, he kept an unreadable expression - he'd learned on previous visits not to appear upset around the staff, or they would be too preoccupied with fear to bring his order out correctly.

Yes... it is most troublesome, he continued, taking a sip of water. Not only does he already feel comfortable there, but the others have grown quite fond of him as well. Somehow.

"Wh-What can I get for you, s-sir?" asked the frightened young elephant demon waitress, her hand shaking as it hovered over her notepad.

"Oh! Pardon me, Phanti. I was lost in my own head, haha!" Alastor laughed like he was among friends, but the waitress didn't relax at all. Unhindered, the deer demon gave his order. "I'll have #5 today, my usual. Cooked medium-rare for a change."

"Y-Yes, sir," Phanti stuttered, quickly jotting down his order so she could just get out of there already (also how was she writing with those flat stumps elephants have for feet? Nobody knows, not even me, and I'm the fucken author of this story.) After getting 95% of it on the paper she skedaddled out of there faster than a stampede.

Alastor watched as she hurried away, slightly annoyed that his reputation preceded him and thus he would never truly have any friends down here, but also feeling his ego satisfied. When people feared you, they respected you. They became malleable... like putty in your hands. Or like a fresh, still-bloody brain in said hands. Yes. Alastor had felt that sensation before... the jelly-like firmness of a newly-harvested brain, his fingers caressing the folds, cerebrospinal fluid running over his knuckles...

He cleared his throat, blushing. No, this wasn't the place to reminisce and get all excited, he could do that later, when he had privacy. But, his earlier thoughts returned. This roach that had invaded the hotel clearly didn't fear him - at least, not as much as Alastor felt he should. That would be a problem. Everyone else at the hotel, except for that loud-mouthed moth, knew to keep their distance, but Crocker was very new to this dynamic, and thus the most likely to throw the proverbial monkey wrench into Alastor's work. He needed to be put in his place - or better yet, done away with.

But the corpse of a beloved addition to the hotel would certainly raise eyebrows. So that meant Alastor couldn't touch Crocker's life... for now, but there were other ways he could reach his goal.

"H-Here you are, sir," said the chef, a goat demon, who had come by Alastor's table with his food in Phanti's stead. Removing the cover from the steaming plate in a shaky flourish, he revealed five steamed eyeballs, each placed meticulously on a bed of greens, and served with a hot bleu cheese dressing.

The chef ran before Alastor could thank him, but he wasn't going to anyway. After tucking his napkin into his collar, he began cutting one of the eyeballs with his fork and knife, the humour flowing out in time with the psychotic smile spreading across Alastor's face.

"Yes... your death may be out of reach for me at the moment, my new housemate, but that does not mean you're safe from these crimson claws," he growled lowly, and took a bite of his dinner.

The next morning was, thankfully, a little less crazy than the last, but still more fast-paced than Crocker was expecting. Still, he was diligent in his work and finished up breakfast lickity-split - pun intended, because most of the uncouth sinners licked their plates clean.

While Crocker washed the dishes, he was able to hear a conversation between Charlie and Vaggie in the dining room. "Where's Alastor?" he could hear the former ask, as she and her girlfriend were pushing in seats that their guests had so rudely left out. The happy-go-lucky demon made a mental note to go over basic etiquette in the lessons for the guests soon.

"Who cares?" Vaggie answered. Her voice was more distant - she must've been on the other side of the room. "Maybe he's walked out the door and will never come back. Good riddance."

"Oh, Vaggie, I know you two don't get along... really I'm the only one who seems to with him... but don't you think you could be a little more supportive?"

"He's a monster, Charlie. A real demon, in all the worst ways. We'd be lucky if we never saw him again, trust me."

Just then the dining room doors opened. "Good morning, ladies!" called a staticy voice. Crocker didn't have to see him to know it was Alastor. "Please, forgive my absence from breakfast. I had a late night, I'm afraid."

"I'd love a permanent absence from you," Vaggie said, narrowing her eyes, but he didn't even acknowledge her presence.

"Are you hungry, Al?" Charlie asked. "I'm sure Crocker would be more than happy to whip you up something."

Crocker tensed, hoping Alastor would say no. If he could go just one day without dealing with the deer demon, he would feel truly blessed.

"Not at the moment, thank you," Alastor answered, "but I do have business with our new cook. I presume he is still in the kitchen?"

Crocker started looking around to see if any of the cabinets were large enough to hide him. Nope, they weren't. He started to panic. Who knew what that sick twisted bastard was thinking or plotting.

"Yeah! He should be getting the place cleaned up after the breakfast rush," Charlie answered.

Crocker winced. Fuck!

"Excellent! I shall go see him right now," Alastor said jovially, and began making his way to the kitchen... to Crocker's sanctuary.

"Poor bastard," Vaggie said, shaking her head.

Crocker shut his eyes, hoping what he'd heard had all been his imagination. Please don't let him come in here... please don't let him come in here... please don't let him come in here...

The door opened. "Crocker, are you in here?"

"Darn it," the roach sighed.

He didn't have to turn around, because Alastor walked right up to him, draping an arm across Crocker's shoulders. "So, how are you liking life in these living accommodations, my good roach?"

"Better than waking up covered in rat bites," Crocker said, tensing under the radio demon's touch. Why was he suddenly being so friendly?

"That's wonderful to hear. You came from a not-so-stellar background, correct?"

"Don't we all, down here?" Crocker said and laughed, but when Alastor didn't join him he coughed and said, "Uh, get it? Because we're in the opposite direction of the stars?"

Alastor just kept staring at him what the heck... "I was talking about your lifestyle."

"Uh, yeah, I know... I was just making a joke..."

"We do not have time for jokes, my carapaced comrade!" Alastor snapped, but he still wore a smile? "We are two adult demons, with lives and livelihoods-"

"But we're not living anymore-"

"-and that's why I want to show you a grand old time!"

"Excuse me, what?!" Crocker asked, confused?

"Once you're finished with the dishes, I'm taking you out on the town! You never had the means to really explore what Hell has to offer, yes? Well, I'll show you - and we'll have the chance to get to know each other in the process!" Alastor said, as if he wasn't, like, you know, a cold-blooded murderer or anything.

Needless to say, Crocker was hesitant. He knew Alastor's reputation, but the radio demon had also been allowed in the hotel by Charlie, the very princess of Hell. And she more than anyone would know who to trust and who not to... right? In the few days that he'd been here, Crocker had learned she wasn't the airhead she often came off as - no, he'd seen her scream at Niffty when the toilets were left unclean. Shivers ran up his carapace as he remembered the event.

"Well... alright," Crocker finally said, "but we're sticking to the well-lit parts of town."

"Of course! Only the rapscallions dwell in the shadows!" Alastor said. His energy didn't seem to change at Crocker's agreement to join him.

The two walked out of the kitchen, nearly bumping into Charlie and Vaggie, huh, wonder what they were doing on the other side of the door. "Mr. Roach and I are headed into town," Alastor proclaimed, "for a spot of good old-fashioned hellish entertainment!"

"I thought that was every day," Vaggie grumbled.

Whispering to Crocker, Charlie asked, "Are you sure you want to go? I'll handle the fallout if you decline."

"Nah, it's fine," he assured her. "Besides... I don't think he's the type to take no for an answer."

"Well... okay," she said, but gave him a smile. "Hope you two have fun! Watch out for potholes!"

Crocker bid farewell to his only place of security. Once they were outside, Alastor practically bent backwards to face him, looking like something out of Crocker's worst nightmares, and said "Now, let us truly tear it up!"

Turns out there were people who were more scared of Alastor than Crocker was. Most people they met while in town were too focused on the radio demon to even look at his companion and thus lose their lunch. They had free reign of the casino, teahouse, movie theater, every entertainment spot they visited in Hell. Crocker... actually kind of appreciated this. It had been so long - before he died, as a matter of fact - since he was able to walk freely around town without people treating him like a freak. If he could shake the unease that latched onto him every time he was around Alastor, he might actually go as far as saying he was enjoying himself.

When they sat down to have a picnic by the sewer falls, Crocker was starting to worry that this would all culminate in his first sexual experience since dying. Then he got scared. But Alastor still didn't seem to be flirting with him.

"So, how have you liked our day so far?" he asked the roach.

"Oh! Uh... actually..." Crocker said, looking at his roast beef sandwich, "I... I had a pretty good time."

"Tell me what you liked about it!" the radio demon pressed. "I wish to know, for next time!"

"N-Next time?!"

"You do not want to join me for recreation in the future?" Alastor asked, raising a brow (but he still kept smiling, what was his face frozen that way?!)

"Uhh, " Crocker said, getting worried about offending Alastor. They were pretty much alone in this park... no one was there to hear him scream, and plus no one would likely help him even if they did. "That's, uh, not what I meant... it's just, well... most people don't like me very much."

"Why ever not?" asked Alastor.

"Isn't it obvious?" Crocker responded, giving a sad smile. "Everyone thinks I'm hideous. No one down here shows me kindness, other than Angel and the gang at the hotel. They act like, just because I look this way, I'm somehow worse than they are. Disgusting. Garbage. Even though they did far worse things in life than me."

"I am sorry to hear that," Alastor said gently.

"No, it's... I actually want to thank you for today. For once, no one treated me like I was the scum of the... Hell. They were all too focused on you. I finally got to blend into the background."

"Think nothing of it, Crocker," the radio demon said. "I am happy I could bring you some peace, even if for one day."

"Yeah..." Crocker said, but he was really just saying that so Alastor wouldn't think he wasn't listening - truth be told he had noticed the mayo in his sandwich had dripped all over his lap, it was gross.

"Crocker... may I be honest with you for a moment?" asked Alastor, catching the roach's attention.

"Uh... yeah? What's up?"

Alastor suddenly looked like he was fighting back tears. "I... I understand how you feel. Everywhere I go, people run away from me. They're scared of me. Even if I try to be good, they all know of my past misdeeds... and can't look past them..."

Before Crocker's eyes, he saw the radio demon break down crying. He froze in shock and Alastor continued, "I... I just want to be seen as a normal person again! I want to make friends, and have fun with people, instead of them all running away from me!"

"A... Alastor..." Crocker said, shocked by this turn of events.

"The... the only place I truly felt welcome... was the kitchen," Alastor sobbed. "There, no one saw who I was. I could prove myself through my cooking. It would bring me back to the memories of working with my mother in her N'Orleans kitchen..." Tears streaming from his eyes, he looked up at Crocker. "Please, Crocker... don't take this away from me... it's all I have left. Please... give me back my kitchen duty."

Crocker stared at him, and said, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Huh?" asked Alastor.

"This whole thing - the time on the town, this whole talk - it was all to get back in the kitchen?"

"It's... very important to me..."

"Cut the shit, Alastor!" Crocker snapped, getting up. He completely forgot who he was talking to, he was so pissed. "I know you're a scheming creep, but seriously?! Playing with my emotions like this? Finally, I get a day where no one barfs at the sight of me, turns out it's all a lie!"

Alastor's tears suddenly dried up and he wasn't sad anymore, all in the blink of an eye, huh, wonder how that happened? "I should've known. A filthy roach like you is too selfish to think of anyone else. All you do is take from everyone."

"No, you're the one trying to take from me!" Crocker shouted. "I finally have a steady job, a roof over my head, and decent meals, and you want to take that away from me? What, so you can continue to force your gross jambalaya on everyone? Get a fucking grip!"

"You'd best hold your tongue with me, insect," Alastor hissed. "I have a lot of say in this underworld."

"Yeah, and guess who I work for?" Crocker asked, throwing up his hands. "The princess of Hell herself."

"You think anyone respects her? That anyone would listen to her if she ordered the demons against me?" Alastor laughed. "She's a weak ditz. She's the paper umbrella in the hailstorm I'm going to bring down on you."

His juices boiling at Alastor insulting his friend like this, Crocker snapped, "You can go to He-"

He stopped short, realizing what he was saying. Alastor's face curled into a mocking grin. Frustrated, Crocker turned around to head back to the hotel. "Don't you ever talk to me again."

Alastor watched him leave, confident that he wouldn't tattle on him to Charlie - there's no way he would break the poor demoness' heart with the knowledge of what Alastor had said about her. But, though his cover was still intact, his Plan A had been shattered. So, the roach couldn't be emotionally manipulated, but that didn't mean he couldn't be manipulated in other ways.

"Back to the drawing board," he said, before picking up the discarded half of Crocker's sandwich. He hadn't been there for most of the Great Depression, but still, he couldn't waste food, so he scarfed it down before figuring out his next course of action.