You awaken, flicking off the blankets which you distinctly remember not covering yourself with last night, and giving one of the best stretches you felt you ever had. Several joints click as you extend your arms and twist around. As you're rolling your shoulders, you notice the voices of people downstairs already. You rush to your dresser and to your surprise, a red box with a black velvet bow is carefully laid atop it. "Alastor," You say under your breath. You swiftly turn, half expecting him to be standing behind you. But you breathe a sigh of relief when you see he is not.
Unwrapping the bow and opening the box you are slightly disappointed considering the beautiful presentation of it. Was this some kind of joke? It was your dress. No, you notice it has been repaired. On the right breast a small symbol embroider into the fabric, the same symbol that had been on the paper yesterday. Maybe you had been right about it being a symbol of protection.
You bound down the stairs, seeing everyone, including Angel, sat around the table. You hadn't noticed before but in the lounge area there was a T.V. But it was now playing some kind of news report that as you focus on it, images of carnage are pictured in the background of a boney blond woman who is reporting on the matter. As you descend towards the living area, you can't help but notice that all eyes are on you but not in a good way. Their faces are contorted into looks of concern and in the case of Charlie and Husk, horror.
Charlie shoots a look towards Alastor who is now making his way to you. "You look ravishing mon chéri," He purrs out, taking your hand as you walk down the last few steps. As you reach the bottom of the stairs, he twirls you around, the skirt portion of your dress flaring out. You laugh out loud as you twist but as you're spinning you catch the faces of the other people in the room. Only one word could describe their expressions. Disgust.
You pull yourself away from Alastor. "Hey. what's wrong guys?" But just as you finish your question, Vaggie yells out. "How could you Alastor!" now drawing out a long spear, and shoving the tip of it right under Alastor's chin. Charlie places a hand on Vaggies shoulder now seeming to be the more pissed off of the two which in itself made you more on edge than anything Alastor had done. It was just downright disturbing to see.
"Tell me you didn't, Alastor". Charlie commands from him. Alastor places his index finger on the tip of Vaggie's spear, calmly angling it down. "Do you really have to ask me that Charlie?" Alastor remarks. You see Charlie's face grow in disdain. "After your stunt last night, do you really want me to answer that?" She scorns. Alastor shrugs his shoulders. "Well then, my answer is no." he pauses momentarily. "To the first question that is" he adds. You sense a sigh of relief from the whole room, whereas you are left dumbfounded about the situation at hand.
"Did I miss something"? you query. "No, No, not at all, nothing to worry your pretty little head about."Not giving anyone a chance to say anything else. But as he says this he moves across the room with grace and guile, tapping the top of the TV with his mic. "Noisy chatterbox" he scolds as the screen flicks off. He then slides up to the table and pulls you out a chair. Whilst Charlie and Vaggie now seemed to have cooled off a bit, you still can't help but notice the looks of shock and awe on everyone else's face. Well not so much Nifty, she seems more preoccupied with getting the cobwebs from atop a tall bookcase.
"Well, Charlie! You were telling us about your departure!" Alastor chimes up. "You're leaving Charlie?". Charlie straightened her suit jacket and approached the top of the table. "Yes, after the last extermination day, heaven would like to have a word with me about events that took place. It's a rather serious affair so Vaggie will be accompanying me when I go." Her voice now shifts to one of unease. "I will be leaving Alastor in charge of the hotel." As she says this you hear a clap of hands from an invisible crowd and he takes a bow.
"Now it will be my absolute pleasure to". Alastor begins but Charlie cuts him off. "I do have a few ground rules before we leave this afternoon. "I expect everyone to remain on their best behavior. No drugs, no raging parties". She turns to Angel. "No orgies in the lobby". To which Angel scoffs. "That only happened once". Shrugging off the comment. Charlie now turns her focus to Alastor. "And I think this could go without saying but no offering to make deals," Charlie says, her eyes narrowing. "I would never dream of it" Alastor replies but you sense a slight agitation in his voice.
As the morning goes on you make sure to thank Angel for the bubble bath he left you last night. "Think nothing of it dollface, Val gives us tonnes of the stuff, especially after a long day. Needs us ready to shoot again". You can't help but feel sorry for him at that moment, he had said it so matter of factly but his voice was tinged with pain. Yes, the bubble bath had soothed your wounds and even helped you sleep but what kind of things did Val have Angel doing that meant he needed it in bulk?
When you enter the kitchen, you notice a singular empty plate by the sink. You thought you had washed them all but then you remember that you had brought a plate up to Alastor, he'd actually eaten it. You check the bin, just in case. Well, he certainly finished it. You start flicking through some recipe books, trying to get some inspiration for tonight's dinner and settle on boeuf bourguignon. Since you have noticed Alastor seems to have some French roots, perhaps he would appreciate it.
You get to work on prepping the food early. The key to a good boeuf bourguignon is to cook low and slow, creating tender beef that would fall apart in your mouth as well as developing deep, rich flavors. You hadn't picked up any red wine when shopping but wondered if perhaps Husk would have some stocked at the bar.
"Hey Husky," You said, trying to put on your best buttery voice, only to be met with his usual gruffness. "What do you want kid?" He huffed out. "I don't suppose you have a nice Burgundy wine?"The look he gives you just says 'You have to be shitting me'. "Or a Pinot Noir, Ribera del duero, maybe a Tempranillo ?" You begin listing out. He turns and begins rummaging through some bottles on the bottom of the bar. You decide to take this moment to ask something else.
"I also gotta ask. What was going on this morning? The way you all looked at me when I came downstairs. I couldn't help but notice the looks of concern you gave me," You query. Husk slams a dusty bottle of Malbec on the bartop. "Best I've got kiddo." He seemed to be ignoring your question. You pick up the bottle and inspect it, not really what you wanted but it'll do the job in a pinch. "Thank you." You say "But you didn't answer my question about this morning. Seriously what was that about," You continue to pry, not letting the topic be dismissed so easily.
Husk raises a claw to your chest, more specifically the symbol sewn into your dress. He then proceeds to lean in and point to the same symbol that had once been carved into his flesh but had now since scarred over. The fur had been unable to grow back. "When an overlord makes a deal down here, they mark you with their sigil. It shows you belong to them." His eyes drop down as he finishes his sentence. "When we saw your dress, we were all worried you'd made a big mistake." he sighed.
"An overlord?"You ask, somewhat confused by the term and still getting used to how things run down here. Husk pours himself a drink and downs it in one. "Overlords are nearly top of the food chain down here, Demons with many souls under their command. The more souls, the more powerful they are." There is a bitterness in his voice. Despite knowing you were in hell and despite seeing all the horrific forms of demons, imps, and hellhounds. You had somehow forgotten the idea of demons taking souls, owning them. More so, the thought of Alastor being one of these overlords shocked you.
Alastor, although sometimes unnerving in his mannerisms, had never been cruel to you. Quite the opposite, he had charmed and flattered you. He was so gentle whenever he touched you but now, more than ever you realized you were nothing more than a fragile baby bird to him. Something he could easily crush in those gentle hands. If he so chose. The thought of which unsettled you.
"Is Charlie one of these overlords ?" You ask, now wanting to get a better understanding of the hierarchy of hell. The question causes Husk to laugh. "No kiddo". He pauses. "She's Lucifer's daughter". He says this so nonchalantly that you almost think you've misheard him.
"Lucifer!" You exclaim. "As in..." You raise your hands to the side of your head, using your fingers to make little horns. Husk laughs and looks just over your head. You move your hands back a little and feel the horns that grow from your own head. You laugh back, now feeling a little silly. You had avoided your reflection since that first morning, somehow managing to forget the monster that once stared back at you. "But yes as in." Husk raises his paws up to his head, mimicking what you had done. "As in the boss man down here"
"But she seems so...so...cheery" You squeak out. He laughs once again. If nothing you could be happy how much your ignorance seemed to bring him amusement. "No, she's one of the good ones down here" A sincere smile spread across his lips. "So is Alastor one of the good ones?" You ask and as you do, his smile drops down again. "No,"Husk says bluntly. "But he's been so nice" You protest. "One thing is certain, if he's being this nice to you, he wants something." He warned.
"Well good talk Husk," You say whilst grabbing the bottle off the bartop. A sickly feeling brewing inside you as you make your way back to the kitchen. "Stay safe kiddo" Husk offers, sounding more like a warning than words of comfort or sincerity. Barmen are normally good at easing worries and woes, not adding to them, you think to yourself.
As you go about your day, trying to distract yourself from the talk with husk this afternoon. But those words, those warnings they just kept creeping back into your mind. One question in particular kept ringing out, what did he want from you? You who could barely defend yourself, you who had no understanding of this world, you who couldn't even remember who she was. You who couldn't even make a pot of coffee without burning herself. You look down to your hand where you had burned yourself and notice that not only in the space of only a day the burn, which to begin with had formed a rather nasty blister, had now completely gone.
The day continued, you helped nifty with the cleaning, reaching the places you couldn't. Played a few more games of blackjack with Husk which to your disappointment but not surprise, you lost every one. Angel joined you both at the bar and between the two of them, taught you how to play poker. You failed miserably at that as well, until the end when you won a few games. You couldn't help but feel as though Husk and Angel let you win them as before your 'winning streak' they had tried to comfort you that you'd get the hang of it after a few decades down here.
You asked them about how long they'd been down here. Angel had died about 30 years before you but you were most surprised by Husk's reply, he had passed only a year before you but yet he spoke as though he'd been down here for years. Hell seemed to have no sense of time it seemed. Both Husk and Angel however both seemed to be closed off about their deaths, not wishing to disclose the details. You respected that and topics quickly changed.
As the clock rolled around to 4:30 you excused yourself from the games, now feeling a little tipsy. Throughout the games you had not been betting with any currency but instead, in shots. Your little winning streak at the end had you taking around 17 shots within the last hour. You did however feel fairly sober considering that fact but as you walked your legs did feel wobbly beneath you.
You lay the table out for dinner tonight, spreading out the tablecloth that last night had been covered in red splotches where chili had been spilled, mostly around Nifty. It was now a crisp white, with no signs of stains or discoloration. You'd seen Alastor make stains vanish before, maybe Nifty was capable of the same thing? Or maybe she was just a very dedicated housekeeper. Nonetheless, the table was laid. However, the alcohol seemed to be hitting your system a little bit more now.
Angel, despite his protest yesterday, that you should not get used to him helping you with the plates. He was standing at the doorway of the kitchen bang on at 5 pm. Throughout dinner, you can't help but notice Alastor had once again chosen not to join you but you had prepared for that. Leaving his portion of bourguignon in the pot to keep it warm as you tucked into your own. Over dinner the overall mood was cheery, Charlie especially wanted to make it a good night, you could sense her unease at leaving the hotel. Maybe because of how important her business up in heaven had sounded but maybe because she was worried about you. You felt everyone seemed to be worried about you and how entangled with Alastor you had become. For a bunch of supposed sinners, they all seemed to be good people. Flawed, yes but still good people who wanted to protect you as you adjusted to this life.
You had rushed through your dinner, wanting to bring Alastor's plate up to him and so once again, you excused yourself early and headed to the kitchen. The food had managed to sober you up slightly and whilst the room no longer felt like it was spinning as it had done so when you first sat down at the dining table, it was still a little wavey. You held the plate in one hand, your other on the banister, steadying you as you ascended up to room 669.
When you reach the 6th floor you see Alastor's room door already open. You peer through the doorway, to see Alastor is sitting in his armchair, focused on a book. Without looking up from it, "Ah, room service" he calls out, closing the book and waving his hand causing the book to float over to the bookshelf at the far side of the room. "Hey, don't get used to this. Tomorrow you can come get your own plate." You jest. Through his perpetual smile, you somehow think it was now more of a smirk but with him, it's always so hard to tell.
You place the plate on his desk and fake a little curtsey but in your mildly intoxicated state, you stumble. Only to fall into Alastor's arms who seemed to have stood up to catch you with lightning reflexes. "Don't tell me you're falling for me" He laughs out, followed by his radio laugh track. You can't help but laugh too as you scramble to regain your balance. He materializes a chair for you and guides you to sit down before taking a seat back in his own armchair.
He takes the plate that you had left on his desk and takes the first bite. You watch him, eagerly awaiting his response but to your disappointment, he seems somehow unimpressed with it. "What's wrong ?" You ask. He raises an eyebrow at you as though he had not noticed you watching him, a pretense you thought. Alastor was nothing if not observant. If there was one thing about him you were certain about, that was it. "Hmmm, well if you're going to continue cooking here I think you're going to have to get your ingredients from somewhere else in town."
Your body freezes at the thought of leaving the hotel again. Your last venture out had been one you did not wish to repeat. As if sensing your tension Alastor goes to assure you "Yes. I will personally escort you to cannibal town. They have some of the best cuts of meat there." He chimes out, mentioning Cannibal Town as though it was nothing. "I have not seen Rosie in some time and I'm overdue a visit." He continues. All you can croak out is "Rosie"? "Yes, yes. A delightful dame and I'm sure she will be eager to meet you, my dear."
"Are we going to be getting human flesh?" You gingerly ask. "No, not at all. That stuff is far too precious around here. I can't even remember the last time I saw an actual human find themself in hell" He chatters. "But I'm human," You say, perplexed. You don't remember much but that was something you were sure was true. "No mon chéri, you are a demon now, just like every other sinner down here." He says, once again reminding you of your hellish appearance, something that felt so easy to forget. "Human flesh is sweet, not corrupted by the sins of their soul just yet. It's quite the delicacy and I don't think Rosie would share any should she get her hands on some. Not even with me." As he speaks you notice he seems to be almost salivating as he thinks about the taste of human flesh, his eyes almost glossed over as though he were to be picturing it.
"So would it be demon flesh we'd be buying?" Your voice falters as you say a sentence you never thought you'd utter in your life, or even in your afterlife. "We can if you would like to try it?" He offers casually. "But no, Cannibal Town has some of the best cuts of meat. They know what they're doing more than anyone." You find yourself anxious about the idea of going somewhere called cannibal town but since Alastor had offered to escort you and merely his sigil seemed to have scared other demons. You felt safe in accepting his offer, if not a little hesitant to do so.
"Now deary, as much as I thoroughly enjoy your company. I do have some matters of my own to tend to." He declares. You take that as a hint to leave and return to your own room. As you sit on your bed, having bathed and changed into your pajamas for the night. You hold up your dress, running your fingers along the stitches of the sigil embroidered on it. Conflicting thoughts and feelings whirring through your fuzzy mind.
Your thoughts kept lingering on your conversation with Husk. Then the faces of the other residents. Charlie's rule about not offering deals. Vaggie's aggression towards Alastor. The only one who didn't seem to be concerned with Alastor was Nifty. Maybe tomorrow you need to talk to her.
...
Alastor sits at his desk, tucking into the rest of his dinner. She had done a good job, barring the poor quality of the meat. But the flavor was there, the love she had poured into this meal. And how good she had been, bringing it to him. Despite her little protest about not continuing this service to him, he had no intentions of heading down to dinner tomorrow night either. Instead wishing to see if she would go back on her words. It was a small thing but a good way to tell how willing she was to change her mind to meet his needs.
His eyes fell upon the small vial sitting on his desk. A golden liquid half filled it and as he picked it up, swirling it. The golden liquid glowed upon agitation. He raised the vial to his lips and proceeded to drink it.
Closing his eyes he was able to see glimpses of her life. But they were only that. Glimpses. As though remembering things like she did. Images were hazy, blurred, and unclear. They came in flashes rather than cohesive sequences. He tried to focus on certain scenes and putting his mind to it was able to make clarity of some of the images. Her childhood, her mother. Singing a familiar tune, A la Clair Fontaine. His mother had sung it to him as a child. A beautiful tune, a story of lost love. He lingered in that memory for a while. The tune, although sung in English rather than French, was still comforting to him.
Moving through the years of her life he saw Frank. Over the years he had killed so many that most of their faces were lost. But Frank's was one that had stuck for him. If not for Frank's cruelty, his petite chérie would not have fallen into his arms quite so easily. Without Frank, he would not have been able to manipulate the fiery anger that had dwelled inside her, laying dormant. That was. until he rekindled that spark.
With each of the memories, he was able to feel how she had felt in the moment, not fully mind you. Just traces of it. And as his vision landed on himself, his living form, he felt her admiration to begin with. But feelings grew into something more, with every lunch out, with every friendly smirk and wink...Love, a feeling he had not felt often in his own life. Except with one woman, his mother. Love was such a weak emotion. One so easily manipulated and one he had used many times before to get what he needed.
As he probed into her past, he grew frustrated. No matter how hard he tried to focus, to clear up the visions of her times with him after Frank. He was unsuccessful. These were memories she had closed off long before she had landed in hell. Locked away in some dark little corner of her mind.
Brushing away his frustration he pressed forward through her thoughts. Oh what a life she had lived, he thought. Until Arthur. He was the one to dull her spirit. He watched on as he saw the flame he had once worked to ignite, now being doused out by loving hugs, family BBQs, and sweet words. Sweet, sincere words. If Arthur's affection is what had softened her, maybe it was his own cruelty that he would need.
Alastor opened his eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. Whilst he had enjoyed watching how she would blush at his flattery or melt in his gentle touch. He could not deny he found it taxing. When he had been alive, it seemed to have come so easily to him. Although no intention behind his flirtatious remarks, it had felt less like a facade and more instinctual. Since arriving in hell, he had relied less and less on that ability. No, he had more relied on fear and respect here. Yes, he may be flattery to a select few, but they knew that it wasn't his true nature and so he had no longer had to put so much effort into it. Instead only needed to be the gentleman his mother had raised him to be. However, with Belle, he had felt the need to try and convince her that his actions were genuine rather than a ruse in order to grow his own powers.
The restraint he had to have around her, keeping his true nature hidden was exhausting. Feeling much like a bad day at work to which at the end of , he wished to unwind. For most people that would maybe consist of reading a book or going out for a drink. For him, however, it was bloodshed. How he had enjoyed himself last night after leaving the hotel. But a spree like that was not something he could be doing every other night and the carnage he inflicted on those unfortunate souls was only after having her back for 2 nights. Yes, it had reminded people that he was indeed someone not to cross, but it would only be so long before indulging himself like that would cause problems for him.