WARNING: CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, GORE, AND REFERENCES TO PAST SEXUAL ASSAULT!

Title Song: "Mistreated" from the movie "Strange Magic"


Everyone told the Radio Demon to get some sleep. But how could he, knowing his wife was down the hall, tossing and turning in bed? She'd had night terrors before, particularly during thunderstorms, but ever since her abduction, they'd been occurring every night.

When his constant worry became too much to bear, he would keep vigil at her bedside. It was torture, watching her claw at her sheets, a strained squeak coming from her mouth in place of a scream. Only when she started convulsing did he sit on the bed, placing one hand on her shoulder, the other rubbing her back. It would take a few minutes before she'd calm down.

He wanted to do more. To crawl in beside her and hold her to his chest, sheltering her just as he used to.

But no. Last time he'd done that, she'd woken up furious with him. He would not disrespect her boundaries again.

Tina never mentioned the night terrors to him on her whiteboard. In fact, she hardly wrote anything outside of what she'd like to eat or drink. Even if her voice was healed, she was not in the mood to communicate.

Still, she did not object to Alastor's company. Most of their days were spent with him reading to her, or getting out the old projector to watch a film. While he was glad to be spending time with her, it wasn't the same as the old days. Not just because of her temporary mutism, but the memory of their last real conversation was eating him alive.

Would he feel better if he brought it up with Tina? Even if she couldn't properly respond? There was so much to talk about. He hadn't even shown her the envelope Lucifer had given him on Valentine's Day.

And yet, Alastor felt if he did say something, the bitterness would return, and Tina wouldn't be comfortable with him anymore.

Then it happened. One afternoon, as Alastor was bringing a lunch tray in for Tina, she rose from her bed with a stack of papers pressed to her chest.

"Yes, darling?" He set the tray on the bed. "Did you need something?"

She glanced down at the stack, and then handed it to him. There were at least ten crumpled sheets.

"Oh? Is this what you've been writing the last few days?"

She nodded. Alastor squinted at the words, holding the papers away, then closer. Then he realized he'd forgotten to put on his monocle. That seemed to be happening often lately.

He summoned the monocle and was about to read the letter when Tina placed her hand atop it and lowered it from his view. She shook her head and pointed out the door.

"You don't wish for me to read it in here?"

Another nod. From the way she was avoiding his gaze, he figured that whatever it was she wrote, she wasn't expecting a pleasant reaction. A smart person wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of his emotional outbursts. And Tina was smart.

Static spiked as he turned to leave. "I'll come back to you when I'm finished."

The coziest place to read was the library. Alastor lit the fireplace, settled himself in an armchair, adjusted his monocle, and held the letter up to read.

My Dear Alastor,

First of all, thank you for being so patient in all this. I know it must be hard looking after me like this. I can smell the alcohol and cigarettes on you. So, you've gone sober, huh? Not like I'm in any place to judge.

You've probably been wondering what's on my mind.

He snorted. That was an understatement.

There is so much I wanna say to you. Some of it, I wanna say it out loud. Some of it will be harder to say out loud. And can't wait.

Charlie suggested I write you a letter, so I can get the harder stuff off my chest. You're not gonna like what I write here, but you need to know everything that happened with the Vs. As you're my husband and partner, you should be the first to know.

One would think after months of contemplating what had occurred in those few hours before Alastor had arrived in that basement, he would be prepared for what was written in that letter. He wasn't.

Tina described the event in every gruesome detail. What the Vs did, Ethan/Camille's involvement, Carrie's espionage and betrayal, the torture Tina was subject to. It made Alastor's blood boil so much that the letter burst into flames. After taking a calming breath, he snapped the ash back into its previous form. He'd wanted Tina to communicate with him. He had to read this from start to finish.

Once he got to the part about Tina laughing at her captors, the rage in Alastor's heart melted into pride. He'd hoped she'd find the strength one day to stand up to her abusers. Just as he had with his father.

When I first saw Ethan again, I had a panic attack. But after the Vs… Well, I won't write it again. I realized the man I'd let haunt me wasn't worth the trouble. That I shouldn't've let what he did to me, what I did to him, define me and my relationships. Not just my relationship with you, but with my daughter. If I'd let go of the past and focused on the present, if I'd been able to forgive myself for my sins, maybe I wouldn't be in Hell right now. Who really knows?

It stung a little that Tina was imagining a life where she'd never fallen. Where she'd never met the Radio Demon.

I just hate that I had to get kidnapped and tortured to see all that. Not to mention I almost lost you for good.

And the hope was reignited.

That's the funny part. It wasn't the torture, the abuse that made me rage and break free from those shackles. It was seeing you die. I mean you DIDN'T die, but I thought you had. You're so powerful, Al. More powerful and stronger than I could ever be. That sometimes I forget you're also a mortal soul that can be erased at any time.

Our afterlives may be longer than our lives on Earth, but they're still finite. All I could think of in that moment was how much time I'd wasted blaming you for our marriage failing. Blaming myself. That I'd finally found the right man for me, and he'd died because of me. Just like Nancy had died because of me.

Water stains blurred the words. No doubt from tears.

I've treated you so horribly that I wonder why you bothered coming for me, why you stay by me even now. I can tell you wanna talk about our last fight. I do too. But I think you also believe that we should save that for when I can speak again. In truth, Al, my throat feels fine, but I don't think my brain's caught onto that yet.

I know I didn't wait for you, but if you truly think this is something we can come back from, then please, wait for me.

Yes, I know. You've waited so long already, and I bet you're sick of it. I've blown every second and third and hundredth chance you've given me. If you can't wait any longer, then tell me once you're done reading this letter. If you were patient enough to read this all the way through, that is. I can always stay at the hotel if you want me to leave. I'd rather you tell me now then let me hold onto false hope.

You have every reason to doubt how I feel about you. So, I think you'll believe it more when you hear it from my mouth.

With lo

Always

There were many other crossed-out words, until the letter finally finished with: Yours, Tina.

When Alastor was done reading, he sat in that chair for several minutes, staring at the closing. In a rare moment, he wiped away a tear.

"Can I truly call you mine though?"

So many emotions were coursing through him. Sorrow, anger, but most importantly, resolve. Many of the actions he wanted to take had to be put on hold, but there was one thing he could do with certainty.

Rising from his seat, Alastor snapped his fingers, materializing his pinstriped jacket. The sudden weight on his arms and shoulders reminded him of how long it had been since he'd worn this. After tucking the letter into his pocket, he teleported back to Tina's room.

She looked up at him with wide, worried eyes. Was she expecting rejection? A scolding? He almost chuckled at how far this expectation was from reality.

Taking her face in his palms, he pressed his lips to her forehead. "I must step out a moment, chère. But I'll be back shortly, I promise."

Her expression scrunched into one of confusion.

"Oh, you needn't worry." He rested a hand atop her head. "I've simply neglected my Overlord responsibilities for too long. Seems half of Hell is under the impression that I've been erased. I think it's about time I remedy that, don't you agree?"

Tina bit her lip, as if she hadn't considered how him nursing her would affect his reputation, and nodded.

"Of course, I won't be leaving you all alone." A snap of his fingers and Niffty appeared from the shadows. "Keep Tina company while I'm out, will you? I have an errand to run."

Niffty saluted. "On it, sir!"


The security guards outside the Porn Studio gasped when the Radio Demon, of all people, strolled up the front doors, humming like he hadn't disappeared for two months.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," he said, raising a finger, "I request an audience with the Vs. If they are not all available at the moment, just Valentino will suffice."

The two hellhounds glanced at each other, the one on the left asking, "Ain't you supposed to be dead?"

"Of course, I'm dead!" Alastor chuckled. "Isn't that the point of this place?"

The one on the right got back into guard mode. "Dead, alive, whatever. No one gets to see the bosses without an appointment. Especially you."

Sighing, Alastor reached into his jacket and whipped out a holy pistol. The same one Vaggie had swiped from the Vs two months ago. It hadn't been easy convincing her to entrust it to him. After mentioning it was for Tina's sake, however, she'd complied.

"I believe this," he said, aiming at the hellhounds, "is my appointment?"

The guards quickly stepped aside. "Right this way, sir!"

"Thank you kindly!"

Alastor pushed through the doors, humming along to the chipper tune of his internal radio. As he approached the receptionist's desk, he slid the gun back into his jacket out of courtesy.

"Afternoon, Miss," he paused to read the nametag, briefly to avoid staring at the cleavage it was inconspicuously pinned under, "Beebe. Is your boss in?"

Having seen the pistol, Beebe pointed a shaky finger towards the elevator. "T-Top floor."

"Thank you!" He titled his head. "Be a dear and let him know I'm on my way up, will you? It would be awfully rude of me to show up unannounced."

As he strode towards the elevator, he heard Beebe scrambling for the intercom, hyperventilating as she spoke into it.

Oh, it's good to be back.

The Radio Demon didn't have to knock, as the moment the elevator doors opened, so did the double doors to Valentino's office. Vox stood in the doorway, his screen glitching from an open mouth to a blue error message.

"Vox, old friend! You're here!" Alastor strolled past him, spotting Valentino and Velvet on the couch, staring at him slack-jawed. "Miss Velvet too! Splendid! Saves me an abundance of time tracking you all down!"

Once Vox managed to get his screen adjusted, he slammed the doors and demanded, "How the fuck are you not dead?!"

"On the contrary!" Alastor raised a finger. "I've been dead for ninety years!"

"No way!" Velvet fiddled with her phone. "We saw the holy bullet hit you! See?" She showed him the footage of him getting shot. "There! Right in the chest! I even put it in slow-mo to be sure!"

"Eh." Alastor shrugged. "Just a flesh wound really. How I survived doesn't really matter." He walked past Valentino and Velvet. "As I have a score to settle with all of you."

Valentino stood from the couch. "You've got a lotta nerve waltzing into my studio like you own the place."

"Give me five minutes, and I just might." Alastor stopped with his back to them, glancing around at the scandalous décor with a snort of disgust. "However, I might transform this institution into something more…respectable."

Vox's hands sparked with electricity as he stepped forward. "Is that a threat?"

"Perhaps." Alastor's head turned with a crack. "You did harm something very precious to me, after all." The rest of his body rotated as he advanced on the television. "Kidnapped her." Then he went to Velvet. "Sewed her mouth shut." Then Valentino. "Forced her to watch shameful debauchery."

His eyes glowed as he glared at the pimp. "Attempted to defile her."

By the time static and Vodou symbols started filling the room, the Vs were in their defensive stances. Velvet whipped out her knitting needles, Valentino pulled a knife from his garter, and coils sprouted up behind Vox.

"For your transgressions," the Radio Demon warned, radio dials replacing his eyes, "I ought to smite you all where you stand, and burn this tower of lustful fantasies to the ground."

The Vs each readied their weapons for a fight. Then, like the changing of a channel, the room switched back to normal, as did Alastor.

"Lucky for you three, however, I may be inclined to forgive you!" He lifted a finger. "Under one condition."

Vox scoffed. "You're in no position to be making demands. You're on our turf now, and it's three against one!"

"Is that so?"

It was at this moment that Alastor chose to reveal the holy gun. The Three Vs stepped back. Velvet and Valentino lowered her weapons, while Vox's coils vanished.

"Seems you dropped a little something during our last debacle." Alastor waved the pistol. "Only one bullet left in this little contraption. Even if you manage to get the jump on me, half a second is all I need to pull the trigger. Hmm, let's see." He turned in a slow circle, aiming at each of the Vs. "Which one of you do I despise the most?"

He stopped at Vox, his grin becoming a smirk. The television sighed.

"Whaddya want?"

Alastor held up five fingers. "Five minutes alone with the demons you call Camille Léon and Carrie Canary."

Vox blinked. "That's it?"

"That's it. See," Alastor said, moving the gun around to assert his dominance, "I am accustomed to the three of you making moves against me, and have all of eternity to wreak my vengeance upon you. Those two, on the other hand, are under your protection. And my grievances with them are much more…personal."

His tone lowered, the corners of his mouth rising. "Leave them to me, and I will not take revenge against you. Today, at least. I'll even throw in this gun as a bonus. That seems like a fair deal, don't you agree? I mean it's not like those two souls have any real value to you, do they? Wouldn't you rather I take my anger out on them instead of you?"

The Vs exchanged glances. Velvet gave a rapid nod, while Valentino waved a disinterested hand.

"Okay," Vox said. "Five minutes. Do what ya want. Just don't kill 'em. They still belong to us, after all."

"Trust me." Alastor narrowed his gaze. "I won't be so merciful." Tossing the gun to his left hand, he extended his right. "Well, my friends, have we a deal?"

Reluctantly, the Vs each took turns shaking his hand.

Valentino went to his desk to press the intercom button. "Beebe, get Camille and Carrie in here, pronto."

The intercom crackled. "They're in the middle of a gang bang, sir."

A gun clock persuaded the pimp to respond, "Don't care. Tell 'em to cut and come as they are. I got a…client for 'em."

Alastor concealed his weapon before Carrie and Camille arrived. The canary was clad in a blue lingerie set, while the chameleon wore nothing but an orange thong. Perhaps killing them would be granting them both a favor.

But as the Radio Demon had said, he wouldn't be so merciful.

When Carrie and Camille saw Alastor, they stopped in their tracks.

"How…?" Camille backed away.

Carrie rubbed her eyes. "I thought I'd…"

As they stood there stunned, the Vs filed out of the room.

"Five minutes," Valentino reminded Alastor.

Velvet set the timer on her phone. "Starting…now."

Vox glanced behind him as he shut the doors. "I'll be expecting that gun when we come back."

"Huh?" Camille looked between the closed doors and the Radio Demon. "What's he mean five minutes?"

Alastor chuckled as he strode up to the pair. "Long enough to answer a question that's been wracking my brain these two months." He bent down to Camille's level. "Is it true that if you tear the tail off a chameleon, it grows back?"

Camille blinked. "What? Gah!"

Chesterfield picked him up by the tail, dangling him upside-down in front of its master. The Radio Demon's grin widened as he raised his glowing palms.

"Let's find out then, shall we?"

He jerked his hands apart. There was a sickening crack as Camille's tail was magically ripped off. He would've fallen, had Chesterfield not held him in place. The chameleon wailed and flailed.

Not wanting to be next, Carrie raced for the doors. She yanked at the handles, but they were locked tight.

Alastor showed no concern for her as he chewed on the tip of the severed tail. "Hmm. Crunchy, tangy, would likely moisten if boiled in a stew." He watched as new, green flesh folded over the wound in Camille's rear. "Oh, would you look at that! Wound is already closing on its own! I suppose it is true!"

He ran a claw across the chameleon's arm. "I wonder the same rule applies to the limbs."

With a single snap of the fingers, all of Camille's arms and legs were torn from his body. The next scream went up an octave.

"Ah, music to my ears!"

Actual jazz music accompanied his victim's screams. How had he ignored this part of his afterlife for so long? There was nothing he could do about Tina. But he could make the people who'd wronged her suffer.

Alastor shivered at the euphoria tingling up his spine. "I would've gone one limb at a time, but sadly, I only have about four minutes left."

Carrie banged on the doors. "Hey! Mr. Valentino! Miss Velvet! Mr. Vox! Let me outta here!"

"Oh," Alastor said, materializing behind her, "they won't be answering you, little bird. Not for three and a half minutes."

Carrie pressed her back against the door as she gazed up at the transformed wendigo towering above her.

"You really had me fooled, Miss Canary." His elongated claws brushed against her arm. "I'd thought you nothing more than a spineless, meddling weakling. But not only had you been deliberately barricading me from my beloved, but you'd sold her out to my greatest enemies."

He bared his sharklike fangs. "I respect your cunning and tenacity, and can even forgive you for shooting me. Very few have the gall to do so. Too bad it won't save you from my wrath."

Carrie gulped. "Y-You gonna e-eat my arms and legs too?"

"Oh no. I learned my lesson the last time I took a bite out of you. Though those toxic feathers of yours," he said, taking a shoulder feather in between his claws, "might prove useful against my enemies."

He plucked the feather from her. While losing a feather isn't as severe as losing a limb, it can sure sting.

"Congratulations, Miss Canary." He tickled her beak with the feather. "For the rare achievement of being a woman I despise so much that I don't give a damn about gentlemanly decorum."

Carrie tried to bolt, but three shadows caught her, pinned her down and began plucking as many feathers as they could get their hands on. For some, they yanked so hard that they tore the skin beneath, staining her yellow palette with red.

"Normally I would take this slowly," Alastor said, "and draw out your suffering. Consider yourselves lucky."

"You call this lucky?!" Camille cried as Chesterfield gnawed at his wounds so they wouldn't heal right away.

"Of course." Alastor returned to the chameleon. "For what you did to my darling," he said, digging his claws beneath the scales on Camille's nose, "I ought to skin you both."

He snapped off the scales, adding to his victim's pain. "Turn you into a nice pair of lizard-skinned shoes." He knelt to Carrie on the floor to pluck another feather. "Or a lovely, feathered hat."

The shadows cackled as they continued to poke and prod at the unfortunate pair.

"But," Alastor said, straightening up, "I made a promise to my dear, sweet Tina that I wouldn't kill any more of her enemies behind her back." He chuckled. "I said nothing about maiming them. Isn't that right, boys?"

The shadows chirped in agreement.

"You know, Ethan," Alastor said, waving his hand to move Camille closer to him, "Tina told me all about how you'd broken her." He picked at more scales. "You took a beautiful, strong, fierce woman, and you'd broken her. You should've taken care of her, treasured her. She'd had your ch-child, after all."

Alastor's voice glitched at this last sentence, thinking about his own desire to have a child with her. He quickly shook it off.

"You didn't realize how good you had it. For that, I almost feel sorry for you. Almost."

Then he slashed the chameleon's belly. Not deep enough to gut him, but enough to make a nasty gash.

The fun ended too soon when the doors opened. Velvet held up her phone with the image of a ringing alarm clock. "Time's up!"

"Quite right!"

Alastor snapped his fingers to call off the shadows. Camille dropped to the floor beside Carrie, who was covered in blood and bald spots. Still, it was better than being a limbless heap of scales and flesh.

Vox's screen glitched at the sight of the mangled pair. "Shit. That was all in five minutes?"

Velvet snapped pictures of the carnage.

"Those limbs better grow back." Valentino blew a smoke ring. "Ain't nothing sexy 'bout fucking a bowling pin."

"Oh, I'm sure they will." Alastor scooped the spoils of his labor into a small portal leading to his basement. "Didn't you know? Chameleons regenerate."

"Hold on." Vox stepped in front of him with one hand on his hip, the other extended. "We ain't done here."

"Yes, of course." Alastor took out the pistol and tossed it to him. "Pleasure doing business with you, old chum!"

The screen flickered to a smirk as Vox aimed at the Radio Demon. "Pleasure is all mine."

He pulled the trigger. But Alastor had already disappeared in a puff of smoke. Vox frowned and looked around. Then he felt a tap on his shoulder and found Alastor standing behind him, wagging a finger.

"Tut, tut, Vox!" Alastor tsked. "Not very good sportsmanship on your part! Shame that was the last bullet in that gun. Oh, well! Toodle-oo!"

As the Radio Demon vanished for the last time, Vox growled, threw the empty pistol to the floor, and screamed to the heavens, "ALASTOR!"


Boy was that last scene satisfying to write! I had originally thought of either Carrie or Camille accidentally getting shot by holy bullets, but no, as Alastor said, them being erased would be too merciful. Besides, they belong to the Vs now, which is already a fate worse than death.