Chapter 61

Out of the Dark

Stunning.

Alastor had been in the middle of a joke when his thoughts were quickly derailed by a pair of brilliant diamonds glowing with a bright, hateful light. Those wicked gems floating in the darkness took his breath away; they were lovely, mesmerizing… frightening. Like walking into the lair of a mighty beast, ready to tear him apart for intruding on its privacy. The feeling was exhilarating.

But that excitement melted into something else when the steam cleared away. His little dragon, sitting in the darkness with her knees pulled up to her chest, caused him to set his hopes for carnage on the backburner for now. When she looked down in embarrassment, holding to her chest what he could only assume was the doll she conned the imp out of, his smile became strained as this whole situation felt painfully familiar.

"Come on out, my dear," he called into the pod, reaching out his hand. "Despite this wicked cold you've plunged this room into, it's quite safe out here."

"I-" Eliza faltered as her throat seemed to cut her off. Clearing it, she continued, "That's… not the problem."

"Oh?" he asked, tilting his head curiously. When the dim light from the nearest flame revealed that the scales of her face were growing darker by the second, he threw his arm out to the side. On cue, the shadow dragged all three imps into the dark hallway kicking and flailing, their muffled screams fading away. "There, that's better! Now won't you come out? There's no one else here to see you."

"You see me," she grumbled, her mouth hidden behind the doll.

Alastor couldn't resist letting out a soft chuckle. "Oh come now; I come bearing gifts!" As soon as he said it, he summoned a large flame in his off-hand; one that illuminated almost the entire space. "See? God isn't the only being that can banish the darkness! Ha!" When Eliza's inverted eyes didn't look up for a few seconds, he asked, "Is there something else? Are you hurt in some way?"

"No, I just…" When her voice faltered again, she narrowed her eyes and sighed. "I don't want anyone to see me like this. I'm not presentable right now."

Y'ain't s'pposed ta see m-me like this. Get out 'til I'm presentable!

Alastor's whole body tensed as the unbidden memory played in his mind. His mother on the floor, nursing that black eye his father had given her. How many times had that man hit her? How many times had he found her on the floor, hurting, crying…

"Alastor, are you OK?"

Unbeknownst to him, the claws on his outstretched hand were growing out, as were his antlers. Quickly retracting his hand, he cleared his throat and took a moment to compose himself, forcing his body back to its normal state. "Oh my, ha! Forgive me, my dear, I was a bit out of sorts for a moment. Normal again though, so let's get this show on the road!"

"Are you sure you're-"

"Anyway! As I said, we are alone now. No one else will see you like this."

Realizing that she was being shut down again, she sighed and decided to drop the subject for now. "You won't tell anyone, right?" she asked, nervously. "This stays between us?"

"You have my word that not a soul shall hear of this from me," he promised.

With one final sigh, she reached up to take his hand, but faltered just short of it as her nerves stopped her. 'I can do this,' she thought defiantly, 'I can do this, I can-'

"No magic," Alastor told her. "I know my powers have been making you rather uncomfortable as of late. Rest assured I fully intend to trudge through this blasted labyrinth on foot." When she still hesitated, he added cheekily, "Unless the fire troubles you. I can alway put it out if-"

"No!" The response came out before she could stop herself, and the mischievous squint in Alastor's eyes made her realize something: He knew. Damn it all, he knew exactly why she was afraid.

When her inverted pupils seemed to burn from embarrassment, Alastor couldn't help but feel giddy. "Now, now, none of that; you may work through your nerves once we're out of this death-trap. I even have a wonderful activity in mind!"

"And what would that be?" she asked, exasperation seeping into her tone.

"You'll have to wait and see," he teased. "Think of it as my price for guiding you out of this darkness, if you find it helpful."

Finally, she took hold of his hand, letting him pull her onto her feet as the vines unfurled around her, once more taking their typical, wing-like shape. Alastor took a step away, surprisingly steady on the ice, and she looked down in suspicion. Sure enough, the ice under him was darker than the rest, and it took everything in her not to yank her hand out of his. "W-what are you doing?"

"Oh?" Looking down, he honestly forgot that he was using magic to keep himself from falling. When his eyes moved up to meet hers, he looked a little peeved. "My dear, must I remind you that we are standing on solid ice? Come now, surely this isn't unreasonable!" When her eyes darted between his face and the floor nervously, he let out a theatrical sigh as he waved his hand, dismissing the darkness that offered him stability. "By the stars, woman; your demands for comfort can be absolutely absurd at times." As he tested the floor nervously, his boots slid this way and that as he found it nearly impossible to get a proper footing.

Crunch.

Alastor's eyes shifted away from his boots to Eliza's foot as it stepped forward. Her toes almost seemed to extend in ways he'd never seen before, allowing her claws to anchor into the ice. It surprised him; they always looked so dainty and tucked in normally, at least when she wasn't transformed. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that your soulform is designed to overcome such inconveniences," he grumbled, stumbling in his own attempt to turn around.

"Do you have claws on your feet?" she asked, curiously.

"Even if I did, my dear, that would require a certain degree of disrobing," he stated, nervously. "Something of which I am most unwilling to do." Defiantly he straightened out his suit coat and took a step forward, but the ice under his feet seemed determined to make a fool out of him. The moment he put weight back on that leg, his foot flew out in front of him, and he was falling backwards instantly. Despite the expectation of his tailbone hitting the ice, he felt no such painful resolution to his fall.

"Then until we get off the ice," Eliza began, her wings catching him under his shoulders, "maybe I should just carry you?"

"I beg your pardon?!"

"Just until we find solid ground," she explained. "Since you're not very stable on the ice, it just seems the best way." When the buzzing in the room only got louder, she sighed deeply. Well, what did she expect? His track record for hypocrisy would remain untarnished, it seemed. But then, before she could take it back, he surprised her.

"That… might be best," Alastor agreed, his tone dripping with reluctance. "So long as this is added to the general confidentiality of this entire experience." Stunned, Eliza just stared at the back of his head for a moment. Then he groaned in annoyance. "Oh, let's just get this over with!" And with that, her wings scooped him up and held him bridal style, making him yelp in surprise as he held onto her neck. The flame hovered off to her right as his hands became occupied, and she gave it a nervous glance before willing herself to ignore it. As she took a step forward, he hissed indignantly, "I would like to make it clear that nothing about this feels natural."

"Because I'm a woman?" She asked, fighting to make light of the situation.

"The role-reversal is not lost on me," he told her, "but in this case, I mean being carried in general. And in this… fashion."

"I could throw you over my shoulder," she offered, cheekily.

"Now you sound like Husker."

"Oh, does he carry you often?"

He glared up at her. "Not unless I'm thoroughly unable to move under my own power. I'd sooner crawl."

Eliza opened her mouth to comment but promptly closed it again as she felt only two of her claws dig into ice. Another step or two, and finally they were on solid, not-frozen-over floor. She wasn't particularly offended when he practically jumped down from her wings, dusting himself off with both hands before collecting his floating flame in his palm once more, holding it out like a torch. "Well then, off we go!" he exclaimed, clearly trying to put the awkward encounter behind him.

As he guided her through the maze, flames would appear before them and disappear behind them, constantly keeping the area around them well-lit. Eliza distracted herself by watching the walls carefully. At one point, she saw the faintest crack close tight, and when she ran a finger over it, there was no hint to there being an opening there at all. Well, no wonder she got so lost! When she looked forward again, staring at the back of the Radio Demon's head, she took a moment to contemplate what she should give him as a reward for the contest last night. Granted he said he had a price for his help today, but he was going out of his way to guide her out. Maybe… maybe she had an idea what kind of reward he should have. After all, there is one thing she knew he wanted. Well, aside from her soul, but that was another matter.

Alastor was lost in thought as they went along. With Eliza's nervous attitude toward his magic, he didn't tell her that he was being guided by his shadow, who followed the imps in and thus remembered the route out. An "Ariadne's Thread," as it were, which connected him to the exit and was therefore almost mindless to follow. As such, between it and the therapist's silent presence, he was able to consider something that disturbed him the more he thought of it.

Being carried… hadn't felt too bad.

Normally a situation of such intimate closeness would make his skin crawl. It's not as if it was particularly enjoyable; certainly something to be done only when necessary, and yet he couldn't say he hated it, either. That was a most unusual realization. At first he considered the idea that it's because she's a woman. After all, he certainly had an easier time around those of fairer means. Even so, while she herself noted the role reversal of a woman carrying a man, those wings were certainly not 'feminine' in any way. Why, they could brawl against the largest of Hell's brutes and stand a chance at victory! He had no doubt of that. But even with all of that in mind, her holding him in such a manner should have bothered him far more than it did, and he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign.

Rounding a corner, he saw a sight that shifted his thoughts to something far more pleasant. "Aha! There it is, my dear."

When Eliza followed him around the corner, she saw a small red light against the wall. "Is that… the exit?!"

"Yes indeedy-"

Whoosh!

As Alastor stood there wide-eyed, Eliza shot past him and out the door without any hesitation. Vanishing the flame in his hand, his smile illuminated the space for a moment before he faded to black, ready to meet her outside. Apparently even his teleportation met its match as, when he arrived outside, the dragoness was already standing there, breathlessly relieved to be out in the light once again.

"Have a seat, my dear," he said, summoning over a nearby chair and turning it towards her. "You look about ready to crash into the dirt!" To his surprise, she wordlessly did as he suggested, leaning back into the chair with a sigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he quickly moved his hand away. "Should I 'lighten' the mood, my dear?"

The glare she shot him was most gratifying. "No."

"But there's so much opportunity to-"

"No," she repeated coldly, pointing a finger at him. "No jokes about this one, understood?"

Unfortunately for her, he had no inclination to comply. "Trying to snuff out the light of comedy, I see. A little dark humor too much for you to handle?" His smile widened maliciously as she growled at him, her eyes returning to their inverted state as her anger began to show. "My, my! So many emotions are being brought to light!"

When her claws started to show, his eyes glowed brightly, but then she pulled back suddenly, looking rather nervous. He pouted as she backpedaled, and she cocked an eyebrow at him. "Does it really not bother you that any transformation might have torn my new clothes apart?"

Oh!

"Ha! Don't be silly, my dear, and don't underestimate the Emporium." Leaning down, he asked cheekily, "Do you think I would trust someone to make an ensemble without taking into account demonic transformations?"

She blinked. "Oh, so does it transform with me, or..?"

"Hm… Well, mine simply changes to match my aesthetic, but with your more bestial nature, they may well simply disappear until you revert to normal once more." Grinning widely, he watched her thoughtful expression with high hopes. "Now, if that is all that's keeping you from painting the town red, figuratively or literally, then perhaps we can get to that 'activity' I mentioned before."

"You're making me rethink your reward tonight," she threatened, tiredly.

"Oh, come now," he tsked, "I am very confident that you will greatly enjoy this."

She sighed in resignation. "Alright, what is it?"

"A little game of cat and mouse," he purred.

When her eyes narrowed in confusion, he could feel her circling the bait. "Are you the cat, or the mouse?"

"I will be the spectator," he announced. "You will be the cat-" with a wave of his hand, his shadow appeared nearby, leering over them all as it loomed over the huddling forms of three imps, one of which the therapist recognized as the carny from earlier, "-and they will be the mice!"

"But… I don't know how to transform on command," she told him, staring at the imps with uncertainty. "I mean, in the past something had to happen first, right? Self-defense, anger…" In a quieter tone she added, "being drunk…"

"Hm…" After a thoughtful moment, a bottle appeared in his hand, and he stared as he swirled it slowly. When he glanced at her, he was met with an expression of pure disgust, causing him to sigh as he dismissed the bottle. "Just a light suggestion, darling."

As she shot a spiteful glare in his direction, the leader of the imps suddenly growled, causing Alastor's head to swivel to the side. "The only thing that hussy can do is play ya, man! Whatever she promised ya, she ain't gonna deliver."

"Ah, yes, about that," Alastor chimed in, turning back to the therapist. "What exactly is this about? Did you lie to this little wretch? Before you answer, you should know I wouldn't blame you; some people are unworthy of an honest approach."

"Oh, FUCK you!" Snipe snarled. Before he could say anything else, the looming shadow bent down and slammed his head into the ground, his mouth opening to hiss out a laugh.

"I didn't lie about anything," Eliza told him with a shrug. "I said I would do almost anything to win this cute little doll, and he offered me a free game."

"Ah, such a lovely and exploitable gray-area," Alastor nodded, his stock applause clapping modestly around him to congratulate her. "Well done! I suppose wording is simply lost on this poor-"

"You lying slut!" When Alastor's head turned this time, the dials glowed an angry red as his antlers started to stretch out. Before he could react, however, Snipe shouted, "You drugged me!"

"Excuse me?!" Eliza sat straight up, her narrowed eyes scrutinizing every detail of the imp's face after such a surprising accusation.

Alastor's head almost robotically turned to face her, his dials replaced with an expression of shock as he examined her reaction. "Did you?" he asked, curiously.

"No!"

Snipe scoffed with a smirk. "I wasn't gonna give ya a free game 'less ya fucked me, but then ya use some freaky spell on me. Made my nose all tingly an' shit."

"So that's why you kept scratching your nose," Tawny said as the realization came to her. "I thought you did a line or something."

"Not before work, ya dumbass," he snapped, making his underling flinch.

"Told ya," Nox piped up.

As the imps argued with each other, Alastor's eyes focused exclusively on Eliza's face as she processed the realization that, intentionally or otherwise, she likely did drug the carny. As she sat in stunned silence, he tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hm… Perhaps we should save their leader for last, my dear? I can always keep him contained while you chase the other two. After all, what an opportunity to learn more about one of your more problematic powers!"

"I thought you wanted to watch me chase them," she reminded him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, I will," he promised with a wicked grin. "Or, more to the point-" his shadow, now wrapped tightly around the carny, moved to Alastor's side, holding the imp up so that Alastor could tap his horn with a claw, "-we will."

With a disgruntled sigh, Eliza stood up. After leveling an annoyed stare in the direction of the two imps she was apparently supposed to chase, both of whom were now staring at her in confusion, she held out the small fox doll. "Hold this for me, please."

Perplexed, Alastor wordlessly reached out and took hold of the doll. As soon as he did, the shadow's bindings on the two underlings vanished, and they watched fearfully as Alastor took a step forward, his brightly glowing eyes glowering down at them. His frozen smile flashed malevolently with each syllable as he commanded, "Run along, little mice."

They ran. Eliza ran after them. Alastor had a hard time keeping up at first, wanting to remain close to the action but not intervene. To that end, he took to shadow-stepping around the abandoned circus, cherry-picking spots to watch from a safe distance. By the time she caught up to the larger of the two imps, she was partially transformed, her large, clawed foot smashing his head into the ground. The imp was whimpering and begging up until she lifted her foot, letting him run away again.

"She's good at this game," Alastor chuckled. Then he looked over at Snipe with a curious expression. "That will be you in a few minutes, you know."

The imp couldn't look away, the damned shadow holding his head firmly in place. Apparently closing his eyes wasn't permitted either; they were drying out as he was forced to track the therapist's movements. Even though she never fully transformed into a dragon (much to Alastor's dismay), that didn't make her any less brutal. Repeatedly he watched as Nox, the slower of the two, was caught under her foot, or Tawny would think she was far enough away only to have a wing back-hand her into a wall. "What the fuck is she?!" he rasped.

"A very strange and repressed creature," the wendigo mused, more to himself than anyone else. "Maybe I should find more toys for her. Why, just look at how much fun she's having! Yes, I should certainly do this again; what a show!"

Right as he said that, Nox was picked up by his horns, his head summarily squashed into the pavement by one of her large, bulky wings. Tawny, now in a state of total panic, actually ran towards Alastor when she spotted him nearby. "Please! Tell her to stop- ack!" Eliza's wing came down hard on her spine, crushing her slowly into the cement. "P-please…" she gasped, her large, pleading eyes staring at Alastor.

For a brief moment, Alastor considered her request, looking down at the doll curiously. "What a magnificent afterlife," he muttered. "All this chaos and carnage for a doll… Ha! How I love damnation." With that said, he looked back up and took a step forward, causing Eliza to pause as she wondered if he was going to do something. "While normally I am loath to abandon a woman in distress-" he bent down until he was looming right above the imp's head, "-I know why you and your boss followed my friend into the darkness, little mouse. If anything, I think you should suffer longer, but to see her kill you with extreme prejudice is more than enough."

Blood started to bubble in her throat, and Tawny coughed up red as everyone heard a nasty crack before the therapist's wing broke through bones, muscles… everything. The imp lay there, most of her body crushed by sheer force as Eliza actually blinked down in surprise. Standing up, she examined the wing-hand in silent awe.

Little did she realize Alastor was actually sweating a bit as part of him wondered what his fate would have been the morning of the pheromone incident. Had he not teleported away, those wings might have snapped him like a twig before his powers could save him. That was not a pleasant thought, but definitely one not to be forgotten.

"Now then," he said, ensuring that he didn't have time to show his nerves, "let's move on to the main event, shall we?"

Snipe gulped when they both turned their attention to him. "You know what? I'm thinkin' that we can handle this all civil-like, ya know?"

Alastor's head tilted curiously. "Is that so?" Scratching his chin, he casually took a couple steps towards his captive with a pensive expression.

"Y-yea…" When the overlord leaned down until his nose nearly touched the imp's snout, Snipe started to sweat as the sinner quietly observed his barely contained panic. Wishing he could pull away from the creepy fucker even just a little, he bit back a growl as the shadow holding him made sure to keep him nice and still. "I mean, we can just talk this shit out, right?"

"Hm…" After a moment, the wendigo's arms went behind his back, and his half-lidded eyes were giddy as he jubilantly replied, "No!"

Author's Notes:

Cutting this chapter a bit short because I like this ending. Also because I'm done looking at it.