pre-story note:
Hello EVERYONE (if anyone reads this that is)! This is my attempt at writing a backstory for the V´s. I have had this idea ever since the second episode of Hazbin hotel dropped (Radio killed the video star). I just loved the idea of the V´s as these upstart overlords going against the old guard, and I wanted to see them before they got as powerful as they are in the show. Like, basically the three of them starting out from the bottom and working their way to where they are in the show.

Minor problem: Vox dies like 20+ years before Valentino and like 70+ years before Velvette. Like seriously, Velvette can't have been in hell for more than a decade by the time the show starts. She is the only young one amongst the V´s. Vox is basically as old as Alastor, which he really doesn't portray well.

Solution: Have death dates and time of arriving in hell separate. Basically sinners spend an undetermined amount of time in limbo before Saint Peter can check the list and send him to hell. Man has to be overworked as it is with almost 2 people dying every second. What this means is that in this fic Valentino is the first of the V´s to arrive in hell, having been there for several years or so before Vox arrives. Already being an established figure, although nowhere near as powerful or untouchable as he is during the show. He isn't even an overlord, just a club owner amongst many. Velvette will arrive a bit after Vox, how long I'm not quite sure. But probably around a year later. For the most part we will be following Vox.

All in all, the events in this fic (in hell) are set about 5 years before Alastor´s disappearance in the show. So about 12 years before the pilot. There will most likely be OCs due to the fact that there really isn't enough lore about characters before the show to fill every role, but I will try to fill every major role with established, existing characters. So do not fret, you will get to see all your favorite sinners eventually.

That's basically all I had to say. I am aware I am not a professional writer and there are probably more mistakes than I can count in here, so please write a review and give me your feedback! Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

Chapter one: A painful reception.

Death is the destination of life. Whilst some of us may suffer from delays, we all reach it sooner or later. To some, death might seem like the end. But to others, it can be the start of a new journey. What really matters is what you make of it.

First he felt nothing, then a burning pain hit Victor as he desperately clutched his chest. He knew he was fucked the moment that he couldn't feel the beating of his heart with his hand. Cursing, he tried to reach out for anything at all to steady himself against, but his muscles refused to move. He panicked, this couldn't be how it ended. He was so young, how could this happen? His left eye began twitching uncontrollably as he screamed out in agony. Within seconds his legs gave in, sending him tumbling down towards the old wooden floor. "Oh fudge..." Victor muttered, his voice giving in before it all went black. The pain he had once felt quickly fading away, only to be replaced with nothingness. On the floor of his apartment now lay a fresh corpse, the wide open right eye and still twitching left capturing his last moment of fear and pain. Just like that: Victor Thomson was dead from a stroke.

Death was weird, that much was certain. Victor really didn't know how to describe it, he was just floating around through nothingness. Maybe he wasn't even dead, and this was just some weird hallucinations before his body finally shut down for good. Maybe it was a dream. If it was a dream it was better than the nightmares he usually had. Sure the heart attack had been painful, but this seemed calm. Maybe he should just kick back and enjoy it. Victor had never been a believer of life after death, but now he found himself floating through nothingness. He kicked back a bit, having little to do but lay there and think. So this was the afterlife? Really not much to talk about. Victor really didn't know what he had expected, but he had to admit this was rather… lame.

He carefully tried to move around, but his body still refused to move. He tried to turn his head but much the same result. Was this sleep paralysis? Very well could be. But if he really was dead, maybe now was the time when he was supposed to reflect on his life. Have it flashing before his eyes or something.

Very well then. Victor had grown up in a small town in England a couple miles outside Kent. His family had always prided themselves by being devout Catholics, an unusual thing in England. He supposed him floating around here in nothingness was proof that they were wrong. This didn't look like hell to him, so guess they were wrong all along. It didn't impact him much. He had never been a happy churchgoer, always preferring to sit in the back and cause some trouble when nobody was looking. Much to his parents' displeasure.

They had never been very fond of him, always preferring his younger sister. She always got the bigger parties, the nicer gifts and of course she could never be wrong about anything. If anything bad happened, it was always Victor's fault. Honestly, there was only one thing through his childhood that he actually had cared about. That enormous picture box that his parents had brought home when he was 12 years old. Victor had spent countless hours in front of the marvel of innovation that was the television. He watched every single broadcast, fascinated by the black and white glimpses into places he had never even seen before. Victor even found himself enjoying the static that filled the screen at the end of the broadcast schedule. Finding a quiet comfort in the black and white chaos. He spent his evenings, and sometimes even full days glued in front of the picture box. Always dreaming and fantasizing about the places he saw and of the things he heard about. One day, Victor knew that he would be on the screen.

As Victor grew up he was forced to spend more and more time away from home. His parents wanted nothing to do with him after he officially denounced the church and any faith in god he might have had. They wanted even less to do with him after he told them he found some boys to be pretty hot. It hurt a bit, but their opinion had never mattered much to him. Besides, Victor was both good looking and popular enough to make plenty of friends. He ended up spending his days in school and his nights and weekends partying. He had gone through over 40 girlfriends by the time he was 18. Safe to say his parents did not approve. Thinking back, he doubted they would have approved no matter what he had done with his life.

When Victor finally left home at the age of 19 the only thing he ended up missing was the TV. It had meant more to him than his family ever had, and as he found new places to party wherever he went there wasn't much else to miss. By the age of 20 he moved to London, taking up odd jobs to make a living. His goal was the same as it had been when he was young: He would be on TV, one way or another. Until then, he spent his days working and his nights partying. He thrived in the big city. Reveling in the nightlife and becoming a known figure in most bars and clubs. Vincent was a heartthrob, and not only to the women, his smooth-talking and good looks allowed him to make his way into practically anyone's bed. He sighed as he thought back to the good old days, how he wished they could have gone on forever.

Victor spent almost a year sleeping his way through London. Breaking more hearts than he could possibly count. He didn't even remember most of their faces when the night was over. He remembered some old love asking him what he wanted the most. They had been out on the street, and he had pointed over to a store window where a TV had been put on display: "That's what I want sweetie. I want to be on that screen. I want every person in England, every person in the world to be able to see my broadcast. Until that happens, I won't settle for anything." She had laughed and told him that it wasn't going to happen. He had dumped her the day afterwards. Victor wished she had been wrong.

As time passed Victor began to lose hope. He had tried his best to get a chance to get in the spotlight. But no matter what he tried he could never seem to get his foot in the door. TV channels didn't want him. He was just a nobody, attractive perhaps, but in the end what the big picture needed was big names. Victor was not what they wanted, and he couldn't convince them otherwise. He was starting to give up, until he met her. The woman who promised him she could get him up on the screen.

She wasn't all that attractive, nor was she funny or even remotely charming. What she had going for her was her so-called contacts. She could get Victor a place in the spotlight, any day now. So he charmed her, he courted her and he slept with her. It wasn't till a month into their relationship that she let it slip just how much of a fake she was. When he questioned her about it turned out it had all been a lie. Her contacts never existed, in fact she knew nobody at all in the TV business. Victor had been furious when he found out so he slammed her against the wall. Then he did it again, and again, and again. Then he held her in place as he slowly choked the life out of the lying bitch. A smile grew on his face as he watched her die. The memory lived rent free in Victor's head, he could never forget it. No matter how badly he tried.

When he woke up the next morning, he had a corpse in his tub and blood all over the floor and wall. He had never felt that sick in his entire life. He locked himself up in his apartment for two days. He didn't eat, he barely slept, he just waited for the cops to show up at his door. He would have gone willingly if they did, he didn't have it in him to resist. But they didn't, not soon enough. Within three days of her death he had left London behind him. Spending the next year of his life on the move. Leaving his dreams and aspirations far behind him. The rotting corpse the police found in his bathtub a week later cemented his guilt. Victor always figured they'd get to him eventually. It was almost anticlimactic to die of a heart attack.

He would have preferred jail over floating around in nothingness for all eternity. Now he just laid there, surrounded by nothing. It was already hard to tell how long he'd been there. Ten minutes or ten years? He genuinely didn't know for sure.

Suddenly, a bright white light pierced through the darkness, causing Victor to snap out of his thoughts as he tried to cover his eyes. For the first time in what felt like years he had solid ground beneath his feet. He looked down and tried to see what he was standing on, but it was impossible to tell, especially with how bright it was. All he could say is that it looked almost golden. As his eyes adjusted to the light he saw what could be described as the most beautiful gates he had ever seen. They were colossal and must have been made out of pure gold. They seemed to shine as bright as the sun but with the grace of the moon. As Victor looked around he saw a golden pathway, lined with clouds that looked soft as cotton. Was this heaven? Or was he still dreaming?

"Hiya! Welcome to heaven! I do apologize for the wait time, but there are so many of you humans that die nowadays that we can barely keep up." A voice called out from up above, causing Victor to look around in confusion as the voice continued to speak. "Time keeps getting fuzzier by the minute, it really is very hard to keep track of you all! I do believe you were in limbo for almost 50 years, might even have been longer. Now, can I get your name please?"

Finally Victor found where the voice was coming from. Upon a great golden podium stood a tall blonde man dressed in the purest white, with wings on his back and a smile the size of a continent plastered upon his face. Victor couldn't help but stubble backwards, falling down onto his back. There was no way this was real, this was Heaven, wasn't it? He was standing before an angel. And what was that about 50 years in limbo? He had to be dreaming. All of this must be a dream, even the heart attack. There was just NO way that Vincent ended up in heaven. Not after what he had done.

"Don't worry, we get people who react like you all the time!" The man, no, no, the angel continued to say, opening his book and placing it onto the podium. The angel still smiled down towards Vincent as he continued speaking "Now then! What is your name?"

Victor stood there quietly for a moment. He cleared his throat as if to speak, then he decided against it and just pinched himself. When he remained awake he just pinched harder and held it for longer. Sadly, the scene in front of him didn't change. He did not find himself waking up in his bed. He was still here, on what must be at the gates of heaven. And he was currently about to talk with a literal angel.

"Yes, yes, you aren't dreaming. You are in fact dead!" The angel said, still with that increasingly obnoxious smile plastered onto his face. "Now, your name please?"

Victor cleared his throat yet again, still feeling wobbly as he quietly spoke. "Victor Thomson. That´s my name"

The angel nodded in response as he flipped his book open to a seemingly random page. Quickly skimming through it as his face slowly turned into more of a frown. "Victor Thomson was it? No other names?" The angel asked.

Victor shook his head, feeling a sense of dread build inside him as he answered. His eyes darted between the angel and the golden gates and the giant eye that floated above them. How had he not noticed it before? "No. It's just Victor Thomson." He finally answered.

"Oh! well then!" The angel said as he slammed his thick book close. The smile returned onto his face although looking almost apologetic. "It looks like you're not on the list!" He continued as he stowed the book away beneath the podium. "It looks like you are a Sinner! So… bye!"

In that moment the ground beneath Victor disappeared. He fell down through a crimson tunnel, the bright blue sky and the golden gates disappearing above him. A pain unlike any he had felt before hit him. The pain dwarfed that of the heart attack, it felt as if his body was being burnt away by lava. As if his insides were being ripped out and rearranged and like anything that didn't fit was just being thrown out. Victor screamed in pure agony as his whole face stretched out and flattened. His left eye flickering uncontrollably as it had during the stroke. It was worse than dying had ever been and he still had not reached the bottom of the pit. The crimson walls were replaced with static that blocked his vision. His agonized screaming now buffering as he crashed down against the ground with a loud thud.

As the static faded Victor raised his head from the ground. It felt unnaturally heavy but so did the rest of his body. Instead he focused on the world around him. No matter where he looked it was all black and white. He saw a dark sky with an enormous pentagram floating up above. There was dark smoke rising from the houses of what seemed to be a city in the distance. He heard pained and terrified screams all around him, and as he looked down upon the ground he saw that he was standing in a puddle of something far too dark to be water. He couldn't tell for sure it was red, but he had a sneaking suspicion and a sudden urge to vomit. Suddenly his vision was covered with black and white static. It disappeared a second later, although he could still see the glitch in the corner of his eyes. It was like watching the world through a TV screen, but for once Victor didn't like it.

Another wave of static disrupted his view along with a spiking pain in his skull. He reached up to clutch his head but felt a weird flat surface in its place. He frantically moved his hand along the edges of his head. It felt almost completely square, and even his face seemed flat. He couldn't find a nose or a mouth. He screamed in fear and heard a sound, but Victor didn't feel his mouth moving. Panicked, he looked back down into the puddle of liquid in an attempt to find a reflection, but it was far too dark.

"What the FUCK is going on!" He shouted out in fear as he rushed down towards the buildings in the distance, desperate to find a mirror of some sort. The black and white landscape became increasingly frightening with each step he took. Skull lined the path and he could have sworn he saw some sort of shark-human hybrid walking in the distance. He had to be dreaming, there was no way this was real. There was no way he was in Hell. This was not happening, Hell was not real. Yet as he arrived at the pitiful house he stared at the window. Fear gripped him, the reflection that stared back at him was not him. It wasn't even a man.

His head, his face, his hair, it was all gone. Replaced with a box he knew all too well. His panicked expression was just a display on the black and white screen. He was a fucking TV, nothing but a box on a body. He screamed out in rage this time, punching the wall as he felt his left eye burn with pain. Looking up he could see it spiral and grow. He was PISSED, he was SCARED and he wanted this to fucking STOP. So he just kept running.

Victor ran through the colorless streets and further into the enormous city. Demons, fiends and animals filled the streets as he pushed his way through them all. He saw corpses on the sidewalk and heads hanging from the streetlights. He saw signs advertising sex-toys and weapons, even an advertisement for a murder service. Everything he saw disgusted him more than the previous thing. To top it all up, a dark liquid leaked down every avenue and he felt sick just looking at it. It had to be blood, and he was fucking running trough it. His monitor once again filled with static. Blocking out the horrifying sight as he kept dashing down the street. Victor would have vomited ten times over if his face wasn't a literal screen.

Out of breath, and exhausted mentally Victor finally stopped. How was he even tired? Wasn't he a machine now? An abomination? He just didn't fucking know, and as he looked up into the nearest window of some whore filled sex club, the reflection was practically taunting him. He couldn't take it any more, so he did what anyone would. He smashed the window, then the one next to it, and the one next to that one. He smashed every single window on the store. He did not give a fuck about the consequences, he just wanted that stupid TV face out of his sight. Glass shards flying everywhere as he began laughing maniacally. His left eye now twitching like crazy as the familiar static began to cloud his vision fully. He didn't even notice the goons coming out to drag him inside, nor did he have any real chance of fighting back. All he heard was "The boss wants to talk to ya." before they had him caught.

They dragged Victor through the club as the demons and animal-people stared at him angrily. He guess he just crashed their party, but he just could not fucking care right now. The club looked to be a real colorful place, but it wasn't like he could see it. The fact that one of the goons who looked more like a shark than a human crashed Victor's box-head against a table on their way through the club didn't make it better. His whole world was buffering, all he could see was static and glitches.

Finally they dropped him down onto the floor in what Victor assumed was a room in the back. He couldn't actually tell he had been practically blind halfway through the club. As the last of the buffering cleared from his vision he looked up. Noticing a tall man clad in a large coat sitting legs crossed in a chair at the other end of the room. His smile was filled with razor sharp teeth, and his eyes looked inhuman. Victor also couldn't help but notice the second pair of arms. Whilst he did look more human than some other beings Victor had seen here, the man sure as hell wasn't human.

"Well then, you wouldn't happen to be able to explain why you smashed the windows of MY club? I just got them fixed for fucks sake." The demon said, taking a smoke as Victor felt a gun pressing against the back of his head. "Like seriously, do you have ANY idea how hard it was to get ahold of new windows so soon after the extermination?"

Victor smiled weakly in response, feeling how his shaking knees were betraying him. The demon in front of him looked thoroughly unimpressed. Making a punching gesture with his hands causing his goons to hit Victor in the back of the head. Causing static to cover his screen as he grunted from the pain.

"Fuck.." He muttered under his breath as he tried to regain some composure. "Look.." He continued before pausing for a moment. Trying to figure out a way to explain his current situation before giving up. Resorting to stammering pathetically. " I.. I don't know where I am, and I don't know how I got here. All that I fucking know, is that I have a TV instead of my head. I didn't fucking mean anything. Your windows were just…" He blurted out before a dog-like goon shut him up with another blow to the back of the head. Victor's screen filled with static yet again, earning a wicked laugh from the increasingly scary tall man on the chair.

"Haha, a newbie? Welcome to Hell!" The man laughed as he made a grand gesture with his lower arms, as if showing off what Hell had to offer. "Hah, you sure are lucky, had you arrived a day earlier you'd have gotten to experience an extermination." He continued, taking another smoke.

"Ah yes.. Real lucky." Victor had no clue what the demon was talking about, but he wasn't about to question him. Not as long as there was a gun pointed to the back of his head.

"You did, however, smash up my club. Newbie or not, that is going to cost you." The tall demon said with an ominous chuckle, pulling out a fancy revolver from inside his coat. "Usually I would just shoot you and call it even, but with Hell still in shambles that would be such a waste of resources."

Victor visibly flinched at the mention of getting shot. "I'll do anything you need from me! I don't have any money on me but we can work something out. Please?" He frantically said, completely giving up any dignity he might have had.

The tall demon took another smoke before stepping forwards. Gesturing for his goons to back off as he offered Vincent a hand and got him up from the floor. "That's the spirit. And don't worry, I have a perfect little job in store for you." He said as he leaned in towards Vincent, putting one hand on his shoulder as he placed his gun against his back. "And it is not optional."

"What do I need to do? Sir?" Vincent said with an audible gulp, his legs still shaking uncontrollably.

"So formal. Just call me Valentino, or Val for short." Valentino said as he gave Vincent a pat on the back. "Now why don't you introduce yourself?" He continued, giving Vincent a little poke in the stomach.

"Ah.. I´m Vi-" He didn't get to finish the sentence before Valentino butted in.

"Look newbie, you are in Hell now. Who you were before really doesn't matter anymore. That person is dead, gone and probably buried by now. So just make it easy for yourself." He stopped, taking a smoke as he placed one of his many hands beneath his chin, thinking for a moment. "Take that V and roll with it. I'm sure you can think of something better."

Vincent was stunned for a moment. A new name? He had never really been fond of his current one, but it was still his. But Valentino seemed convinced that he should change it, and Vincent really wasn't in a position to argue with the demon. Not with the gun against his back and with the goons at the back of the room.

"V-" He stopped for a moment. He searched his memory, looking for names, words, anything he could use. If he was actually going to use this name for the rest of his time in hell, he needed it to be good. He thought back to his life, and he looked down at himself. What had he become? A TV for a head and a foreign almost metallic body? The only thing left of him was his voice. Voice. It wasn't a bad name, but it lacked class and style. Then it hit him, a relic from the Latin classes his mother had forced him into after church.

"Vox." He said, a new air of confidence around him. His left eye once again felt like it was burning. "My name is Vox." It felt weird saying it, but it was for the best. Valentino had a point, Victor was dead and reminding himself of what he had lost did not seem like an enticing prospect. Vox was a new person. He had to be.

Valentino laughed, his sharp teeth on full display as he smiled a wicked smile. "Well then Vox. Now, it's time to talk about that compensation" He said with a chuckle, placing a hand on Vox´s back as the two walked out of the room. "If you do this for me, I'll consider us even"

Victor, no Vox, wasn't sure if he wanted to know what the madman Valentino had in store for him. Even so, he put on a forced smile and followed the sadistic demon along and out of the room. Whatever the job was, it couldn't be worse than being shot in the back of the head with one of those revolvers Valentino seemed so fond of. So when push came to shove, Vox really didn't have any other options but to listen to what the sadist had to say.

Vox just hoped that he would come out of this without dying a second time. God knows what would happen to him then.

End note:
That's all I had in store for you today. As a quick note, Yes Vox can't actually double die. He would just reform a little bit later. HE however doesn't know that. Other than that, thank you so much for reading till the end! Next chapter sometime next week probably maybe sooner or later, I don't really know. Depends on if people like this or not. Please leave a review!