Chapter 40: The N in Envy and Abnegation
When the days got closer to Extermination, the Three Vs had the tradition of spending the last days of the year in Valentino's domain. His penthouse on top of Porn Studios. Anticipating next year's polls. Drinking. Fucking. Evolving their appearance.
Valentino was giving his last yells of the year at his employees. Vox was tapping angrily against the window.
Velvet kicked her way out of the bathroom. "Velvet is gone. VELVETTE is in!"
Vox turned. His stunned reaction on his screen wasn't of appeal but of disbelief. His business ally had changed everything in her attire. Black midriff halter top with hearts over her tits, mismatched red-black-white fingerless gloves, red and black pinstripe pants, a black belt with a silver heart clasp, black heels with cotton ball tips, and an open, sleeveless black fur coat that went down to her heels. Fully volumed and dyed red with white peppermint swirls, her pigtails were like a giant, bloody peppermint bleeding heart flower. Skull earrings complimented her maroon eyeshadow and black eyeliner.
"So, what do you think?" Velvette posed for a selfie. "I'm posting my new look just after Extermination Day!"
"I think you look like Margot Robbie couldn't decide on which costume to put on for the red carpet," Vox crossed his arms. He skipped comparing her to a harlequin Barbie doll. Velvette hated being compared to major capitalist, conforming doll franchises.
"Great! That means she can't beat me!" Velvette clapped her hands. "On to keep my title of most envied girl in all of Hell! Note to self, make sure all newcomers get the newest Hellphones. I need all of them as my followers! More followers mean more in my contribution to the envy polls!"
"Yes, but remember that we must dial it down to reasonable." Vox looked out the window.
"Speaking of dialing things down, what was up with the shit I heard on the radio?" Velvette pounced on the heart-shaped lounge chair. "Couldn't tell who the trash slut was, but they were rocking it with Alastor."
Vox's nails slowly scratched the window. The scratch marks formed electric bolts.
"Remember the Plan B in case Val fucks up," Velvette persisted.
Vox clenched his fists. Rather than hitting the window, he kicked a dildo-shaped glass lamp, proceeding to stomp on the glass shards.
"I want that bitch dead… If Alastor's gonna sing about anyone, IT'S GOING TO BE ME!"
"Gee, I wonder what happened to dialing the envy down?" Velvette asked.
"Not the same!" Vox dropped next to her on the chair. "Your envy towards others is like a shoe shopping frenzy! If it's shinier than your shoes, you buy it just to destroy them, and move on to the next shinier shoes to destroy! I've been aiming at Alastor since the 50s! Do I look like I'll let some bitch get in one day what I tried to get in 70 years?"
"Relax, Voxxy! Whoever it is, Alastor will ditch them! He gets bored easily." Velvette patted Vox on the shoulder. "Once we figure out how to reprogram his channels, he'll be all yours."
"Who will be what?" The heart-shaped doors automatically opened, Valentino parading his way inside. Heart-shaped smoke puffed out of his mouth as the pimp impatiently smoked.
"Oh, hiya, Val!" Velvette smiled. "What do you think of my outfit?"
"Much better than the last one, Vel. Now what the fuck are you talking about?"
"Oh, just the usual new year ambitions. You're gonna get a lot of whores fucking to rise ya bucks, Vox will get Bambi's head on a wall, and I will be the most envied girl in all of Hell!"
"Why don't you just aim to be the most envied Overlord?" Valentino asked.
"Sure, and have my head on Lucifer's wall? I have an ego, Val. Just not THAT kind of ego."
Valentino flicked his cigarette away. "Alright, I'll make this clear. MY resolution is to make up for all the money I lost in less than a month, so unless yo two plan on making it rain bills, I'm getting myself a bottle of Beezel-juice and expecting you two on my bed in, like, FIVE seconds!" The frustrated pimp pushed a button on the wall to open up the heart-shaped drincarier. Vox and Velvette just rolled their eyes at Val's usual behavior. "Double penetration. And Velvette? Just nothing. Fucking that weak pussy of yours while handling your tits might help me develop an idea for an upcoming mazophilic film."
Velvette gritted her teeth. Vox held her hand in comfort.
The moment the drincarier opened, dollar bills poured out rather than the fifty something bottles of Beezel-juice. Valentino gasped at all the cash. When the cash stopped flowing, a figure slid down.
Casually lying on a pool of bills with his legs crossed and his fennec tail waving at them, Mammon's nephew smiled at them.
"Double penetration's boring and a lazy way for quick cash. I've always been more into financial domination," Addison stretched his arms while the Three Vs quickly bowed before him. Addison jumped up and dusted the bills off his greed green wrap coat.
"Prince Addison, it's an honor to have you in my penthouse again!" Valentino smiled. "And a spectacular entrance!"
"I know, the last time I had fun with you, Mammon placed an eternal restraining order on you!" Addison extended a gloved hand for the pimp to give a very quick kiss. "But I'm not here to fuck you… Physically."
"Then perhaps you are interested in procuring one of my stars' services?"
"Actually, yes!" Addison snapped his fingers and glasses filled with wine appeared in the Overlords' hands. "The bills?" Addison waved at the pile he had posed on. "A deposit for acquiring services. The next deposit I give for services accomplished will cover half of your debt!"
"HALF?" Valentino's eyes beamed.
"Fifty percent for a full-on day experience?" Velvette frowned. "Is it a test for the new year's greed polls?"
"No, it's purely selfish." Addison materialized between her and Vox. "My boyfriend and I thought we could… spice up the new year with a threesome. Mostly for giggles, but hey! You can do whatever when you're related to Mammon!"
"And only Mammon's nephew can have the finest tastes!" Valentino raised his glass in the air while his lower hands clasped. "Clearly, you and your partner must be treated to my finest! Angelcakes… Angel Dust, that is, will be beyond thirsty enough to allow the Prince of Greed and his partner to break him. How unaffordable he is for common sinners, but for you! High-class call!"
"I was hoping you'd say Angel Dust." Addison sipped his wine. "In that case, I'd like a full 24-hour service. I'll send an electronic check once he comes to the desired location."
"I'll text him right away!" Valentino tossed away his phone.
"Fantastic! Set up the appointment for 11pm on December 30th!"
Valentino froze just as he turned on his phone. Vox nearly choked on his wine.
"Uhm… I apologize, Prince Addison, but…" Velvette cleared her throat. "I think I drank too much. I thought you said you wanted Angel Dust's services on Extermination Day."
"Yes." Addison drank his wine.
"So… Valentino would have to send his most valuable asset on duty… on the day when angels come to kill us." Velvette enunciated. "Either Val loses a month's worth of money by refusing to serve you his whore, OR he loses decades' worth of money if his most valuable asset dies?" Velvette waved at Valentino. "Val? Aren't you saying anything about this? Either way, you could lose a lot more money than what you're already trying to make up for!"
Valentino said nothing.
"Actually, he wouldn't be losing a month's worth if he refuses. He'd be losing three-quarters of what's left." Addison finished his drink and admired his gloved hand. "I'm Mammon's nephew. Nepotism allows me to ask my uncle to ruin bank accounts if my greedy needs aren't met."
His shadow morphed into a multiple-armed monstrous fennec with a hissing snake for a tail. The Three Vs, within the privacy of Valentino's domain, exposed their fear as the shadow overtook the penthouse.
"And you're not stupid enough to refuse my needs. Right?"
…
The days flew by quickly in the house beneath the Radio Tower. It was now Monday the 27th. Friday was to be the Extermination Day. For once, Indigo felt at her calmest. No hotel, no Goetia, and no demons running her emotions nuts. She appreciated the insane amount of trouble Angel Dust and Alastor were going through.
Ironically, the days so far made her feel like she wasn't in Hell but back home. For an Overlord and a pornstar, these two were the only ones who gave her the space an adolescent needed.
Nobody really celebrated Christmas in Hell, but considerate touches were still done. Indigo's friends sent her a bunch of Merry Christmas texts. She hoped her father was doing alright, his first Christmas alone, with Ines and his parents deceased… It did cheer her up when Alastor came up with the idea that each member of the trio cooked something for dinner. Some quirks popped up. Alastor's Christmas ham was delicious and tender, but after seeing Fat Nuggets in his cute elf sweater, Indigo made it her resolution to never eat pork again. Charlie once claimed that Angel Dust's panettone was to die for, but the subtracted amount of honey didn't give much flavor. Well, to Indigo anyway. Alastor relished in each bite. Indigo had to vow to never make manjar blanco again next year. Angel Dust did think it was delicious, but Alastor's main critique were his roundtrips to the bathroom.
For laughs, she did try to nail some mistletoe on the doorways. Unfortunately, since she was the only one with mistletoe hanging by her room as a superstitious ward, they ended up returning her handiwork in a vial.
'You'd be surprised, but aside from the Christmas shit, mistletoe's actually more toxic than drugs.' Angel Dust had shown her the vial now bearing the extract of the white berries. 'Well, European mistletoe anyway. Knew a poison expert back at the mafia in the 30s.'
The mistletoe was perhaps the biggest mistake. Well, the one the older demons knew of. Indigo still hadn't told them of the accidental broadcast. Both spider and deer agreed that if the butterfly had enough time to try pranking them while not being bedridden, she had plenty of time to pursue her lessons and help around both house and tower. Indigo and Angel Dust experienced some difficulties, however. Due to barely staying in his own house, Alastor never had to purchase cleaning supplies as he could use a snap of his fingers. The meager cash Angel Dust had from his job was used up on a Kirby 6 vacuum cleaner from a nearby hardware store that sold supplies from the 20th century.
'Maybe I could use the money Charlie and Vaggie paid me for the garden project,' Indigo had tried to offer on Sunday morning.
That was probably the first time she had heard Alastor say 'HELL NO'. And use the same words as Angel Dust.
So far, that's how things went. Cleaning the house. Reorganizing all the CDs and vinyl disks sent by Alastor's 'interested talents or massive fans'. Walking, feeding, and cleaning Fat Nuggets. Participating in cooking meals. Practicing the regulation of her emotions so that rather than a whole swarm of butterflies, only large ones would pop out. Large enough for Alastor and Angel Dust to squash and bury in the back courtyard. Alastor couldn't have anything planted in his back courtyard due to his 'black thumb'. Decomposing plants upon touch. The dead butterflies made for good compost on the barre dirt.
On this Monday 27th, Angel had gone to check on the hotel for both purge preparations and to borrow more cleaning supplies from Nifty. After broadcasting a typical morning bloodshed, Alastor and Indigo were back on the lessons of Demon Physiology.
"The spread of sins within the body is very much how oxygen operates throughout the arteries and body." Alastor used a knife to cut open a heart and liver. As she took notes, Indigo did some quick sketches.
"All sins will distribute throughout the body, but they'll remain within the right organ depending on a demon's sins." Alastor showed her half of a heart and half of a liver. "What sins do you see in the left atrium?"
Wrath and… A truffle-sized bit of envy. Indigo looked at Alastor.
"Don't worry. It's a bovine heart. Non-sentient livestock."
His reassurance convinced her to dig the envy out of the heart. Not as drool-enticing as fugu, but still delectable. The rest of the heart and the liver itself weren't tempting.
"Alastor... Why is it that when I eat an animal's heart, it's fine, but when it's a demon's heart, it isn't?" Indigo finished her sketch of the liver. "And when I see liver, I don't want it?"
Alastor sighed. "Because sinful hearts and livers are like steak." He quickly took Indigo's notepad and went through her sketches. "Your medical illustration is just as fine as your sketches of Angel's poses." He returned her sketch pad. "Think of the heart as the rare steak. Juicy, bloody, and entirely seasoned with your favorite sauce. And the liver is the undercooked well-done flesh that gets tossed in the trash for the rats. Would you want the rats' dinner?"
"No." Indigo was still confused. "But if one of the rats had an envious heart… It wouldn't be a problem if I ate the heart of an envious rat than the heart of, you know, an envious rat demon?"
"Naturally." Alastor turned the pages of a physiology book with a diagram of a demon's blood system, the blood flowing through arteries and veins colored like rainbows. "But animals are different from demons. Even in Hell, animals still follow the same principle as those on Earth: the principle of survival. Predators kill prey, snakes poison, sharks rip off limbs, mosquitoes are still the deadliest animals… But they don't do it out of natural malice or desires. They do it because of survival. What is a sin is survival for them. Since they're not sinful out of instinct, consuming an envious heart from an animal isn't the end of the world."
"But demons are automatically sinful." Indigo lowered her head.
"To be fair, they weren't until the first sin." Alastor turned the page, showing an image of perhaps the one Genesis story that was always brought up. The only difference was that the serpent's head was that of Lucifer. "Charlie's father, Lucifer himself, questioned the true innocence of mankind after Adam's first spouse before Eve denied him. The consumption of the forbidden fruit was a rebellion stemmed from Pride. Eventually, the other Deadly Sins led humans to spread more sins. The thing, however, is that mere conviction, and not orders, is what led humans. Sins aren't acts of instincts, but acts of willful rebellions against systems. And because we CHOOSE to be sinful, we are punished."
Indigo bit her lip. "But I didn't choose when I was alive… I don't even…" She lifted her head. "My dad never married my… Would being born out of wedlock make me… a mistake?"
"Well, that's what it was believed when I was alive, yet most of the sinners I've gotten to meet were born within wedlock. A complete irrational theory."
The grandfather clock rang twelve o'clock. Alastor decided to close the books and to reheat the jambalaya leftovers. Indigo didn't object. Alastor's mother's jambalaya was too delicious.
"Hey, Alastor… What was your mom like?" She reached down to grab bowls from the cupboard's lower shelves. "You kinda make her sound like my dad."
"My mother?" Alastor dropped the static. "She deserved a better son than me." He roughly slapped chunks of cold jambalaya into the bowls with the ladle.
"Why not?"
Alastor frowned. Snapping his fingers, the jambalaya quickly heated up. Spoons appeared in it.
"I'm a cannibal and serial killer radio host in life and death," Alastor said. "Not to mention an Overlord. Does that sound like the ideal child for a woman born of freed slaves and married to a piece of white shit?" He gave Indigo a bowl.
"And I'm a has-been figure skater bastard with a whale phobia born to a French-Colombian bookstore owner. For some reason, I have to eat envy and I secrete bugs. Do I sound like an ideal kid?" Indigo took a bite of her jambalaya. "Besides, for a guy who eats his broadcasting guest stars, you make a killer jambalaya. And besides you being a total sadist, you clearly care."
"Aw…"
Indigo snickered. Just as she went for her second bite, she paid attention to the floor. "Shit..."
"Language!"
"Sorry, but I think Fat Nuggets went out again." Indigo put her bowl and ran to the door. "I think he might have gone downstairs!"
"If you find the porcine fellow in the courtyard, grab him before letting him in. Otherwise there will be dirt!"
"Sure thing!"
…
It didn't take long for Indigo to find Fat Nuggets. The piglet was sniffing around the mudroom, clearly trying to sniff out for things reminding it of his daddy. Indigo giggled.
"There you are." Indigo picked up the piglet. "Come on. We're having leftover…"
The doorknob's wiggling got her attention.
A failed click. The chains over the door shaking.
Indigo and Fat Nuggets looked at one another. She put the pet down and gestured him to hide behind the chair.
Picking locks… Not unfamiliar to Ines. Once or twice in her life, a couple dumbasses had tried to rob her father's bookstore. But her grandfather, an old World War II veteran, somehow always had a gut instinct that told him to sleepover at the bookstore. Aaron thought his father was being senile, but on both occasions, someone had tried to break into the bookstore. Second time was scarier because Ines and Dimitri had convinced the adults to let them sleepover at the bookstore. Ines' grandfather had quietly woken her up, the sounds of an attempt alerting him. He'd shown her what he did to scare them. Make them lose their confidence in breaking into their property.
Indigo quietly placed a plant pot by the door. She also wasn't sure why Alastor had an axe in the umbrella stand. Small, but still heavy. She basically dropped the weapon onto the pot.
The lockpicking attempt ended.
"Shit! The Radio Bitch is still at home!"
"Fuck! The boss told us to…"
"Ya want the boss to rip our heads off or this guy to eat our guts out? I'm out!"
"Stop being a sissy! He's one fucking deer and we're, like, three Hellhounds!"
Indigo quietly sat against the door. She kept the deep breaths as slow as possible. A wrong move, and some kind of giant butterfly could break the door. A worse move, and Hellhounds would break into the Radio Tower.
Radio static vibrated against the walls. Indigo covered her ears and curled into a ball. Fat Nuggets ran to cuddle with her. The static echoing in the house barely drowned out the screams and bone breaks from outside.
Well, I was borned a coal miner's daughter
In a cabin, on a hill in Butcher Holler.
Indigo uncovered her ears.
"Does that sound like Loretta Lynn to you?" She asked Fat Nuggets.
We were poor but we had love.
That's the one thing that daddy made sure of.
It started to smell like blood from the other side.
Unable to hold back, Indigo cautiously unlocked the front door. Four Hellhounds lied on the pathway, motionless. Perhaps slowly dying after the cruel mauling Alastor had given them. Speaking of the Radio Demon himself, a rottweiler's hand was having its flesh ripped by Alastor's own teeth. The blood dripped right onto his coat, yet showed no stains.
"You want some fava beans and Chianti with that?" Indigo sarcastically asked.
Mid-bite, Alastor rolled his eyes at her. The Loretta Lynn song stopped playing in the radio.
"What?" Indigo asked.
"Young lady, I might be old, but even I get THAT joke every other year!"
Indigo sighed and shook her head. The Radio Demon finished his snack. Indigo nearly bumped against a disembodied leg. There wasn't any envy in their hearts. Just pride, gluttony, and greed.
The few bits of envy she could find were in the corpses' chokers. One was soaking in a blood puddle. Unfazed, two blue fingers picked up the black choker, its spikes barely scratching her skin. The only bit of envy came from the V-shaped buckle.
A neon blue painted V, yet the technology within it vibrated in purple.
Damn it! Did he kill those hounds already? Why aren't they in Alastor's tower?
The words were venomous. Jealous. Envious.
Indigo crushed the buckle. Her fingers opened, and a small silver butterfly opened its wings.
"DDDDDD… DDDAAAA… DAMN III-IIIIT!" It hissed, replicating the voice.
"Good Lord! Why does your critter sound like Vox?" Alastor looked over her shoulders.
"That was Vox?" Indigo looked back at the corpses. "Looks like those hounds were his? Their choker buckles are teched with his envy."
Alastor tossed away the arm he was holding. Sudden loss of appetite, Indigo guessed.
"Any chance some locals could use extra proteins during the lockdown?" She asked.
"As a desperate charity?" Alastor grinned.
"Maybe with those buckles, I could make more butterflies screeching out Vox's screams." The butterfly demon shrugged. "In case, you know, you want to remix his screams on the radio."
Alastor's eyes beamed more than a polished jukebox. "That's my girl!"
MUCH later in the afternoon
DDD-DDDAM! I'M-I'M- LOSER!
I'M-I'M- BITCH!
AH-AH-ALASTOR, KILL! I-I-I SO SICK!
THOSE HOUNDS F-F-FUCK I-I-I YET?
THOSE BITCHES, ARE-AREN'T THEY FUCKING I-I-I?
ALREADY? DAMN IT!
ARE THEY I-I-IN?
Four butterflies were enough to register Vox's voice. Surprisingly, the radio studio had decent equipment to remix the words into a quick song. Alastor didn't hesitate once to broadcast it, calling it 'Vox Fucks Himself' by an anonymous musical talent. Indigo's revenge idea for Vox's attempt was too entertaining for Alastor, it was worth a beignet baking session by the time Angel Dust got back.
Hell wasn't sure how to react: confused by the unexpected song mandatorily broadcasted or laugh and download the song? 6 hours and 13 minutes after its broadcast, the new jingle had already become a downloadable ringtone. Demons on Velvetube and Velvetok were already posting reels and memes using the song. The pride and envy sin polls boosted with the song's release.
At his suite in the Porn Studios, Vox crushed another Hellphone in his grip. When Velvette came in, her eyes glued to another 'Vox Fucks Himself' video, he refrained from breaking her phone and tossed a glass bottle against the wall.
"I don't believe this!"
"Well, he is the Radio Demon. Recording people's voices isn't new. But remixing them and broadcasting?" Velvette jumped on the couch. "That's a bit new-school for an old-schooler. Clearly, he's getting help."
"Probably the slut he was serenading!" Vox gripped his hands on his screen's top corners. "I'm losing him!"
"It's only been a few days, Vox." Velvette scrolled through her phone. "The bitch will probably die during the Extermination."
"Or will…" Vox's screen glitched as he hissed. "Get protected…"
"Well, the slut will be forgotten!" Velvette turned her phone off. "Val should have just gone for losing ¾ of his remaining assets! Giving in to that spoiled prince!"
"Eh. Val's already sent Angel Dust to work right after the purge for years. He'll survive."
Velvette glared at Vox. "Vox… When was the last time Addison and his friends 'paid' for our slaves' services… and returned them? Alive?"
Vox groaned, falling on the other side of the couch. "We are losing SO much money!"
Velvette clasped her hands together, one leg hanging on top of the other. Rain thundered outside. The Overlord's true demonic shadows flashed in the lights.
"Don't worry, Vox. I have plans. But let's wait until the new year…"
…
Angel's fingers shook as they held the phone.
Not now, he mentally begged.
Of all the times Valentino could text him for a client, this was the worst time.
Like, meeting up with the client literally an hour before every place in Hell would go on lockdown.
The text said the client signed a contract to pay an electronic bill upon Angel's arrival. Enough to make up half of Valentino's loss.
Don't fuck this up, and a couple bills will go to you personally, Angel Cakes.
Angel's body dragged itself down the bathroom's black door and onto the red tiled floors.
How could he tell them?
Alastor would probably force him to risk Valentino's wrath than the spider's safety. Alastor always went out to broadcast the carnage of that day. He wouldn't want Indigo all by herself during her first Extermination.
I can't do this. I should tell them.
He marched out of the bathroom. He'd just have to tell them.
Alastor and Indigo: We two have paddled in the stream
From morning sun till night
The seas between us Lord and swell
Since the days of auld lang syne.
For old acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind
Should old acquaintance be forgot
For the sake of auld lang syne?
From the doorway, he could hear them do a quick singing of 'Auld Lang Syne'. Both hiccuped a bit. Angel Dust slightly opened the door when he recognized the smell of Chianti. Probably celebrating New Year ahead of time.
"Anthony, ol' chap!" Alastor smiled. "Join us for some Chianti and Auld Lang Syne?"
"Maybe later." The spider demon put the bottle away and started clearing the glasses. "Go to bed, you two. And Indy, you're taking an aspirin."
"Yay!" Indigo stretched her arms. "Hopefully the three of us do it again next year!"
Angel's grip on the glasses threatened to crack them. "Next year?"
"Yeah! In 365 days… That's a year from now, right?"
Angel bit his lips.
Maybe being drunk made her forget the angst of Friday, or did it bring out the fear that Indigo was starting to find herself irredeemable. He tried to shake that thought out of his head, putting Indigo immediately to bed and finishing up the dishes.
In your own misery of fame, addiction, and assault… you find things of emotional tethering… Redemption could cost you those that DO matter to you. Gusion's voice taunted.
Angel Dust made sure that he heard Alastor drink a pill to handle the upcoming hangover.
How long do you think you have until you're deemed useless to her? Will you go back to that moth if you get kicked out? Henroin's words made Angel Dust shudder.
There was still some Chianti left in that bottle.
I'd kill myself if you got hurt. He had told Indigo.
Silently sitting on the couch, the spider demon stared at the bottle.
Don't fuck this up, Angel Cakes.
His fingers pried on the Chianti's cap.
Last month, the Debauchery Avenue clients were taking advantage of the beatings they gave him for his rejection… One was ready to bite his arm off. That was when the radio went haywire and Alastor's shadow darkened the room. Overwhelmed, all he could focus on was the Radio Demon eating through the clients…
Alastor's shadow popped from under the couch, snatching the bottle and flying off with it.
Angel got up. He found Alastor putting the bottle away in the cabinet.
"Still drunk?" The spider demon asked.
"I seem to recall somebody expressing concern about my welfare the last time I drank my emotions." Alastor closed the cabinet. "Did you wish to talk about it?"
Angel Dust shook his head. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."
"In that case, we'll have to talk on Saturday. With Extermination literally after tomorrow, I must prepare."
Angel sighed.
Alastor already did so much. Angel couldn't imagine the Radio Demon wasting his money for so long. Indigo sounded like she'd live long enough to see her second Extermination.
How much could a whore provide for a teenager? Even for the easiest money, he didn't get much.
Don't fuck this up, and a couple bills will go to you personally, Angel Cakes.
Angel Dust waited for Alastor to go to his room before texting Valentino his desired answer.
Unaware of the lethal trap he was going to be hung over as the bait.
