Eah, I have no idea how I thought I could get this done with the earlier chapter. Though, I guess you'll see why I imagined this appropriate for halloween.

Disclaimer: Don't own Hazbin.

Anyhow, here goes nothin'.


It was not good. It was bad. For it lacked so much good.

"Taste it! You'll like it, just like milk itself."

Husk's gaze left the frosty treat, to eye his provocative partner.

They were seated at a table, the light of the pentagram shining down on them. Husk was yet to look up though, the hangover somewhat still in effect. Thus, he was looking at Angel, the shirtless pornstar with tommy guns perched against his seat. He was sipping a cappuccino.

"Then again…" The spider spoke from his throne, separating the cup from his lips. "If that isn't to your liking, I can get something that you would want in your mouth."

Between the pornstar and the milkshake, the latter won the cat's attention. His ears flattened as the loser proceeded to slurp the coffee.

Over the street, a small park area could be seen. An area which wasn't well cared for by the look of it, the plants dry and littered. The region itself followed that theme, mostly abandoned and unusually quiet, if not for the slurping. Almost no people were around and the few lost souls that were, kept to themselves.

"Remember, we'll do anything you want." Angel continued. He set the cup down before leaning forward, his head resting on his intertwined fingers.

Husk's stare returned to Angel, only to drift away.

The table itself matched the park with its rusted, round garden style. It was also the only table, set on the sidewalk adjacent to an electronic shop. A shop which had bestowed them with chairs, for no particular reason.

"Can't please you if you don't tell me how." The white demon added charmingly. Husk ignored it, not caring.

Instead, the cat followed the slow dissolvement of the foam, the shake collapsing onto itself. Soon it would be nothing but a simple, if not sugary, type of milk.

"I'm going back to work tomorrow."

The cat's ears erected, catching the statement. The rest came later once he decided to unfreeze from staring at his cup.

"What?"

The spider held his gaze. When there wasn't even a dirty gibe, the feline's mug scrunched up in suspicion.

"What?"

The reply was a set of eyes, widening in recognition.

"I Fricking KNEW it!" Angel exclaimed, palm slamming onto the table and setting their respective drinks off.

To the point of spilling, the cat their casualty.

"Fucking..!" He inspected his lap, finding the collateral. "...Fuck."

"It was YOU!" Angel condemned, putting most of his weight onto the rusty surface to better accuse Husk.

The accused one was still wiping at his lap. "I've already asked, so just explain." Husk requested, taking his time before acknowledging the insect's self assured grin.

"You're how Charlie knew."

The statement met a severe silence. And it said too much.

"Knew what?"

"-THAT!" Angel pointed at Husk, settling back down while keeping his aim. "Is exactly how I knew. Because yOuU…" The word was prolonged so more fingers could line up. "...Suuck. At lying."

Husk didn't agree.

"What the f-"

"Let me elaborate." The spider offered, hands smacking together. "Or well… not, since it's quite simple and all. 'Cause you suck."

The joined limbs set their tips forward. The cat's face morphed into a glare.

"I suck?"

"You suck."

They sat at a standoff, both keeping up the stare. After a while, Angel set his hands down and leaned on his elbows, wearing a smug but inquisitive smirk.

"You're not going to tell me I'm wrong?"

The feline glared with a violent intent. Only after another moment did he sway, turning with a heavy voice.

"No."

"So, then I ask: what do you suck?"

The registration took some time, its indignancy. The result was another tilt of the table.

"I just had t- Oh, cum on!" The spider's gaze lifted from his skirt to the furry perpetrator. "This is literally my only set of clothing."

"Do I look like I care?"

"Well good thing you don't since I gotta take it off now."

"What?" Husk startled out.

Angel rose from his seat and gave the band of his skirt a confident stretch.

And Husker made swift postural adjustment to not see that.

For the next few seconds, only a sole, silent curse was heard, courtesy of the cat who had a paw up for further cover.

Once he heard the spider return to his seat, Husk lowered the barrier. To his surprise, the person waiting for him wasn't smug. Or nude. He sure was happy though.

"So, I guess that means you do care."

There wasn't a word that could be said to that. Some whiskers did twist along the muzzle they were on. However, the owner chose to direct it elsewhere.

Angel stretched his neck out to better view him.

"You didn't mood out again, did you?"

The answer sounded with every thwack of the tail.

So Angel went ahead. "I'm not pissed about it. Or at you, in case that's what's causing the hairball in your vocal cords. I just think it's fucking weird that you went to Charlie and not to me. Could've at least asked! Aand, I would ask you why but you'd just continue brooding."

During the rant, Husk had, in fact, quit just that.

"You done?"

Angel pulled back from the table.

"You know what? Fuck you! I even got you a damn milkshake and you haven't even tasted it."

"You got it from a freak." Husk flung back. "At a gunpoint!"

"So? Just because the guy was made out of jelly doesn't mean he had a bad taste."

"'The fuck cares? It wasn't what I wanted."

"Well, maybe you should've said so when I asked what you wanted!"

The next reply lacked wind. Husk, finding his mind backtracking, decided on the simple solution: shutting up.

And Angel noticed immediately.

"Motherfucker…"

The cat's head stooped as he sat back, his arms crossing over his front. It all, even the slouch, added to his darkening visage.

A visage that Angel witnessed with disappointment. One hand rising, he rubbed his eyes in frustration.

"Listen, I didn't bring the thing up to annoy you."

Arm rising off mid sentence, his eyes gauged the cat for a reaction.

"I just wanted you to know that I know so you know not to bullshit me. Anymore."

There wasn't much in ways of responding. Beside the single thump of a tail.

"And alright, I was pissed. But not that pissed. I mean, with how drunk you were, you could hardly say shit anyway, let alone bullshit me."

No reaction.

Angel exhaled. "What… I am saying… is that no harm done. So, no hard feelings." He leaned forward again, hand extending while offering an easy going grin.

"Friends?"

That wasn't what Husk had anticipated. Losing composure, he was quick to try and rebuild it. The act proved pointless however, the other demon already caught on.

The spider stayed as he was, curved towards the cat with an open palm, not saying a word. Yet Husk knew.

He made a deep, long sight.

I could ask him. Husk thought. Who hurt him

His view shifted from the hand to the face. It stayed there for a while, barely focusing while his mind ran around. Ultimately, Husk turned away with a shake of his head.

"...Hate to say it, but it's rude to leave a demon hanging."

The tone was off. Husker looked at Angel.

"How'bout," The spider spoke. "We add benefits into the mix?"

Nope. The tone was on brand, to no surprise.

For the next few moments, the cat remained as he was, seated and slouching, arms crossed and all. And the spider kept his hand offered.

In the end, the hand was met.

"We're cool." Husker announced, deciding that it was for the better. Their joined hands went up, then down before parting. The spider was no less than overjoyed.

"And that's all, 'right?" The cat added.

"We'heh'll…" Angel began, devious smirk growing on his lips. He picked up his cup. "You said that after agreeing."

Incredulous, Husk looked on as the spider gradually brought the cappuccino to his lips, to slurp on its empty contents.

A reconsideration was in order. It never got voiced however. For, mid slurp, both demons got covered in a flashing, luminous blue light. Angel turned towards it while Husk did the opposite, looking at the park in little appreciation of being blind.

The gleam stabilized.

"Oh damn."

Curiosity getting the better of him, Husker braced himself and turned to face the light. Blinking and squinting for a bit, the mushy gleam sharpened into a picture. Or, multiple pictures, since the light was coming from a setup of TVs.

Husk stood up. Taking steps, the cat's focus was rapidly decreasing, to only cover the glowing window of the store.

"...What is this?"

"...The news?" Angel provided, his hands going up in question of what the cat was about.

The feline didn't see that. All he saw was the footage. The wreckage.

"How…?"

Trying to take it in, to understand it, was of no use. Taking a step back, Husk turned away from the disaster. Walking back, he saw Angel's wonderment.

"You don't recognize that?"

The TV answered before the spider could. As Husk sat down, the look of epiphany washed over Angel. He turned to the cat.

"Should… we do something?"

Brow slowly crunching at that, Husk met the gaze with his own.

"What can we do?"

Angel actually smiled at the hoarse reply. "Ha! That's what I like about you."

The spider was back on the screens while Husk, his gaze puzzled, persisted to stare. Soon though, he too would eye the news, his paw reaching for his cup of whatever.

"Still want me to say what I want?" Husk spoke out. "Let's stay away from the Hotel. Just for today."


On the other side of the city…

Everything was fading.

The air stood still. There was no sound. No movement. Except for the widening red line.

She couldn't take her eyes off it. The blood. Its flow.

It had taken something. As if her own soul had perished, leaving behind a shaking shell with a heartbeat so distant it left her cold. Yet it echoed in her ears, not steady but rash, hollow.

The stream ceased widening, finding a crevice on the floor to vanish in.

It was helpless. Right at her feet and she couldn't do anything. She couldn't save him.

He was gone.

The red became muddled as she teared up.

But he can't be gone

There had to be something, anything. She couldn't have him gone.

The crimson fluid parted, branching into another stream. And the body just layed there, indifferent to it.

I have to do something

Forcing her hand to comply, to push out and act, she began to sink. The cold, numb fingers spread out, lowering over the red hair.

She dreaded the contact. Of what she might feel. What she might see.

I have to

But she didn't get to.

Feet lifting off the ground, her view tipped she was rammed into the floor, sliding across the wood. There, she found she was being held down.

"Get-, GET OFF OF ME!"

Squirming to get up, she was only pressed down harder, not allowed to gain a foothold. Hand twisting under a harsh hoof, it sprung free, to soon stretch towards the windows in effort to reach the one underneath them.

To help him.

Her hand came short, the goal out of her reach.

It didn't matter. The hand was grabbed at but she showed past the attempts.

She had to reach him. Over herself, past the hurling black wings, she saw only glimpses of the red mass, stationed under a shade of light.

Her vision blurred once more.

"He needs help! LET ME GO!"

He needs me

Her outstretched hand got caught, multiple limbs forcing it to bend back, away from him.

"NO!"

Putting everything she had behind the push, it sent one of her captors flying, launching off of her. One side free, she twisted to get rid of the other goat.

A bone breaking crack ruptured the air.

She paused. Her hand, ready to remove the other obstacle. To remove Dazzle. The goat also seemed to have stopped.

Razzle

Hand shaking, Charlie wiped at her eye and lifted herself onto an elbow. To see Razzle, sitting against the wall with a grimace on his face. He proceeded to arch his back to feel it.

She didn't understand.

*CRRCHH*

The sound repeated. And it wasn't coming from a broken back. Charlie looked around but was blocked by Dazzle who moved to better cover her.

*CRRCCHHZ*

Head whipping to the right, she landed on Razzle again. Looking further up the corridor, she saw a faint, ebbing light, dying in the dark shade.

*CRRZCHZZZH*

The light flared, screeching. A radio took shape around the feverish blaze, manifesting from the shadows like a beacon, blowing out its broken message.

Now, the sound didn't stop. The light didn't wane.

It grew.

Charlie watched it happen. How it brightened and spread. How it complemented the shadows above.

She turned, to stare into Razzle's eyes, where there was only dismay staring back. She then looked down towards the natural light, getting obscured while doing so. She pushed Dazzle aside.

The body.

It laid, not at peace, not with the brutal aftermath leaking out, revelatory of the shame that was done to him. Yet, there it laid.

Charlie brought a hand up to stop a cry. The radio sang, aching.

The blood, almost dousing her, made her pull her knees up, away. It was then that she saw the marks, the lines, crossing, connecting, sullying the fluid.

She looked back at the body, to realize the wall behind it quiver. To see it flutter in black and grey, dispersing out, escalating. And to see the floating, flowing red hair and rising ears.

Charlie's heart stopped. The radio screamed.

Al?

There was a twitch. A subtle tweak. Afterwhich, bit by bit, an arising.

And instead of relief, the face that parted from under the hair made Charlie shiver.

The eyes were pitch black, unresponsive. Dead. The blood gushed down between them, down to the teeth of a rough, uneven smile, deprived of resolve.

The head continued to rise up, rise into the air with the body attached to it.

It twitched again. The muscles contracted, the limbs straightened out. A staff materialized, floating about him.

The radio roared. The windows eclipsed, unveiling familiar glyphs in the dark.

The smile. It was taken hold of, mastered. The eyes came to life, gaining focus and intention by the second.

The symbols drifted towards and past him, sticking to the static behind, welding together.

Charlie had stood up. She gazed up at him, at the small, emerging red specs revealing his soul. Expressing the pain and furore. Displaying the wrath. Denying the joy that the smile indicated.

The radio blew out death. The last of the glyphs met the convulsing wall.

The staff joined his hand.

And he looked at her.

"Alastor?"

The radio died, terminated. A moment of silence, of serenity. Of Alastor descending back onto his feet. Of his horns extending without a sound. A moment which ended as sharply as it began.

Behind him, the markings pushed beyond the static, beyond the wall, undoing both with gruesome force. Daylight invaded the space, followed by an uproar of stone, glass and grime.

Charlie brought an arm up to cover her face, shaking with the ground but managing to stay upright. Once the worst passed, she let her arm fall, to gaze ahead once more. At the wide view of the outside world, with massive buildings and one or two bricks dripping by. With the Radio Demon's back in its center.

In front of him, in the free air, a hole opened.

"Wait! Al!"

Charlie fell, feet kicking into something. On the floor, she registered the darkness. The cloak that covered her and the entire hall from direct daylight. And she felt it move, to crawl past her in a haste to make it to the portal.

She looked at Alastor. Just in time to see him disappear into the gateway. It zapped closed soon after.

For the next few seconds, all Charlie heard was her own uneven breath. All she saw was the vast, ripped opening of light. A scene that could have been peaceful.

But it wasn't. For, a fresh sound echoed.

The ceiling crumpled. Clefts formed on the walls. As the ground proceeded to judder, Charlie looked around for Razzle and Dazzle.

"Come!" She yelled over the noise, finding them. "We have to go!" Grabbing both by their arms, she ran towards the opening, towards the painful drop to the outside.

And she took the plunge.


I did it

The scope was pulled apart, slit into a spot on the foam.

He couldn't keep himself from grinning.

Fucking did it

"Heh." He giggled, shaking his head afterwards.

Knees grating against the rough surface of the roof, he hoisted the rifle to press the stock in, careful not to force it.

With ease, the piece slid all the way in. It made a satisfying *click*. Or would have, had it not been drowned out by a distant boom.

Head going up instantly, the reptile looked over the parapet, over the rooftops, at the radio station.

At the small, red, silhouette standing in a crater.

No…

He grabbed down at the box, bringing up the scope and a cartridge.

I hit

Shuffling, he managed to adjust the scope back on. Lifting the elegant piece, he pointed it back at the faraway hole.

The figure was gone. The scope left his eye.

"I… Fucking…"

Cursing, he almost missed the new, unfamiliar noise. The dark sphere that grew around him was, however, unmistakable.

Especially as it got intensively darker.

The lizard dove to the side, not even looking up. Upon landing, his ears blew out at the terrible sound of destruction coming from his previous position. Puffs of dust and rubble flew into view. The ground cracked under him, the lines scattering up the stone.

One foot fell through. Hand digging into the concrete, he used the other leg to scrabble up, all the while throttling the rifle in the other palm. Making it past the fractures, he landed on his back.

Paying no mind to the discomforting rubble he laid on, the lizard gazed upon the event in his wake.

There was no building. The massive structure that once was, ended not far from his feet. In its place, a void of thick smoke, with something shady moving ways down, in its heart.

Spreading.

Wailing.

The lizard was quick to set his foot on the ground, to spring off into a full blown streak, heart in his throat and feet colliding with the stone. Hard. Even so, as he heard the howling behind get mixed with said stone getting clawed up, he kept at it.

Swinging the gun up, the other hand took additional hold. With better handling, the lizard checked the chamber.

It was loaded. He lowered the weapon.

The far end of the roof was at a distance. Beyond, over the other, lower building roof, would be a set of stairs leading to the street.

My escape

Something appeared in the corner of his eye. Instinctively looking at it, he came to regret it right after.

An inky silhouette, a shadow, contorted in broad daylight. And it was charging on all fours, tearing at the ground. As if upon recognition, it shrieked at him.

The lizard turned away. He caught more commotion far back but didn't dare to look. For the screams hid a tune even more frightening.

The breathing became ragged. His lungs were starting to burn.

It made no difference. The edge was coming up, with the next roof peeking in sight. Along with the fire exit.

He prepared for the leap, to shift his weight onto his right leg before meeting the railing. He would have to be faster once on the other side.

A rift tore in the air before him.

The leg grated against the rugged stone, skinning. The stone caught the last of the reptile's teetering steps, setting him just short of the portal.

In it, he glimpsed something massive. Unspeakable. But it wasn't the only thing.

Cowering, he narrowly missed the onslaught of wights, gaping puppets made to maul, pouring out and over him in small but massive numbers.

Can't stop

He took off towards the side, where the edge was devoid of demons or salvation. Where the static caught up to him.

CAN'T STOP

He chanced a look back. Back at the horrors unleashed upon him. At the indistinguishable wave of tarred souls. At the bodies of sharpened grins. The shapes in the air. And behind the horde, a man, vile and twisted with horns branching over them all like a canopy.

The reptile lost his breath.

Taking a short stumble, he was brought back by a wraith about to storm him, ploughing up the stone as it did. Fighting back the shock and looking ahead, he found the edge right on him.

The drop was bigger. Hesitation took over.

A sudden, jamming pain shot off from his left arm. The following motion, the intense breeze, was hardly noted over the shroud that had latched on, spiraling.

Until it all stabilized.

The creature slid off, detached. Coughing, the reptile began to pull himself up. Using the left arm proved agonizing. He did it anyway, discovering the right one had managed to keep the rifle in a death grip. He was taking steps before even standing up.

A wail shrilled through the air.

The reptile's pace hastened. Laying the rifle in his throbbing hand, it slipped, prompting him to try again. Once gaining a firm grip, he stopped, took a stance, turned and shot at the incoming creature.

He hit.

The shadow ran into the ground, impaired, leaking. Screeching. It thawed into a pile of sand, black like coal.

Astounded, the reptile breathed heavily. Worn out and cramping everywhere, he looked up to find more fiends, more beasts, dropping from the roof above in depressing masses. With the man behind them, wielding an eye.

He reared the rifle up at the man. Attempting to press the butt against his shoulder, he noticed that the stock was still pushed in. Nevertheless, he squeezed the trigger.

Ain't gonna miss this time

*Click*

"..."

The first of the demons landed. The reptile swerved around, driving his stout muscles to move, to gain momentum, all the while scraping through his pockets for ammo.

An ammo which he found. And lost, dropping it in panic to halt at the verge of an abyss. He didn't stay and watch it fall, instead moving along the portal's rim, trying to retain speed.

Near the building's edge, he glanced over it.

Nothing. Only a free fall. Ahead however, on the roof, stood the far edge, covering the unknown.

And so the reptile pushed harder. Out of breath. Out of life. With his body protesting, begging for rest. With nothing but the will to survive.

The ground waned further, the reality itself breaking in order for another to take shape. And on what remained, the reptile leaped on.

The breaches were slighter, less generous in size. Hurdling over them, he was compelled to look down, to not misstep. Bound to witness the oblivion. To see it. Just beneath the world's decor, something gigantic, haunting, floating in space, preying on him.

Step after step, the image gradually broke down, the pits decreasing, thinning out with the distance he covered.

Am I getting out of range?

The tumult heard behind refuted that theory. Though, as his feet flew over the last of conjured grounds, he didn't care to question it, rather exploiting the chance by digging for another bullet.

The end of the road was drawing near. Nothing could be seen past it yet.

His fingers touched a piece of steel. Firmly, he brought it out and sealed it in the chamber of the rifle, loading it.

The edge was close. The reptile reduced his speed, not in hesitance but in unwillingness to test his luck.

The end reached him. On the very edge, his stomach sunk.

The drop…

He became acutely aware of the wind. Of the high he stood on. Of the tune that rumbled the air, penetrating his skull.

The fall

It stared right back, the platform below that did little more to catch him than the street. A figure of himself was on it, a tiny, fidgeting silhouette at the brim of a bigger one.

He turned around, away.

On the roof, the flood of horrors drifted over the dimensional minefield, unencumbered and gaining. But the man behind was what the reptile focused on, appearing to have stayed on the higher building now far off.

With a grieving bicep, the rifle rose again. Aiming didn't come easy, the heavy barrel causing more deviation. He set the stock to press against the base of his shoulder, to level it out. To soon recognize that it was still unextended.

The harrowing crowd was closing in.

He set his eye on the scope. He could hardly see through it.

The cries…

He couldn't find the target in his crosshairs.

The tune…

For the life of him, he could not stop shaking!

The rifle dropped low, a morbid exhale escaping as it hung in one hand.

Death was moments away, galloping at him. He saw its fingers, the long appendages, squirming up from the stone amidst them, stretching high and far, obscuring the sun.

To get him.

There were no thoughts. No words. No memories of the life before.

Nothing. Except for the sight of it.

And it was in this silence, that he turned and jumped.

Away

It felt freeing. Almost liberating.

Until the wind picked up. The light feeling retired. Lines curled, becoming undefined and cloudy. The tune wilted behind the sound of rushing air.

It wouldn't stop. It couldn't be stopped. The world was to pass by without remorse.

The gray shape below enlarged, eager to be met. To engulf him.

In a last ditch effort, his legs curved out for a chance to tuck and roll. To not suffer the full brunt of it all.

To survive.

The moment came. The legs retracted, to catch the ground.

They buckled.

He didn't tuck or roll. He flattened right there.

Everything went away. It was all gone, lost in a suffocating haze.

The first thing felt was the suddenly expanding chest, the lungs opening up with a hack of sputum.

He thought his heart would crush. Explode in his ribcage. It hurt so much.

His eyes pried open but they couldn't make sense of things.

Eventually the breathing eased to a wheeze. Heart intact. He tried to move his hand out, to feel his surroundings. To understand. But couldn't, the arm was too heavy to lift, too painful to use. Everything was.

It wasn't right. He should be moving. He needed to move. He could feel it in his core, the deep agitation.

Can't stop

A budge. A stir. A torment like no other.

He was starting to get his bearings, cognizing the stone his face was against. The pebbles piling on it. And that he was in something.

A puddle?

The left arm refused to act, even as he managed to shift a little, to glance at it.

Blood?

He stopped moving, mind taking in the sight of the marred limb. The stains on the ground. His situation.

With an abrupt spur of energy, he tried to push off the ground. The legs wouldn't wake up, wouldn't lift, bend or anything. The right arm was of little help, barely able to prompt an elbow under him.

He glanced around but didn't see anyone. Didn't hear anything.

Rolling over the arm, he landed on his back with thud.

Pain flared. The world spun, almost taking him away from his worries. Daylight came down raw. Only thing to be seen in the sky was the dark building.

A better remainder of why he needed to leave.

Right arm dragged close, he pressed down again, to grudgingly make it to a seating position. His head lightened, as if having reached a whole other altitude. Through the palpitation, he checked himself, his lower half.

Bone. He saw bone. Sticking out from the knee. The rest of the limb was mangled and unrecognizable. And the other one…

He couldn't even wiggle a toe. Though, the fact that it hurt might have been a good sign. The left arm did better, the limb able to inch somewhat with an abysmal reaction. He set it to rest.

What do I do?

Looking up at the building, the top appeared hidden in rays of light. Another survey around proved nothing new either, the flat surface he was on providing little cover.

It didn't dispel his trepidation, the nerves that vowed danger. But he couldn't run…

The rifle

It wasn't on him. After a moment of searching, he found it a few steps away, by the shadow of the building. The sight of it was enough to mute his distress, the golden lines calling him for usage. He began to work on rotating himself.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

Sitting sideways, he stuck his good arm out, fingers digging into the stone as he hauled himself towards the weapon.

It's worth it

The hope surprised him. He looked up again, at the building but it remained silent. He turned back on the rifle, vigorous, with his lips curving up despite it all.

Only to stop. Only for his joy to abate. For his heart to sink, to grow cold upon the impending, hawk-like eyes, piercing through the shadows.

Looking straight at him.

He threw himself back, back from the hellish gaze.

It followed, stalking, advancing. The pace was aggressive, the eyes coming closer and closer.

The horns appeared first, manifesting upon the touch of light, vast, high above the eyes. After, a foot, slim and black, just about visible.

Then, the face...

Atrocious. Ghastly with crimson liquid smeared across it, exuding down its length between the eyes. Livid. All it saw was him. The red, inhuman focus, set on his soul.

And it was smiling. A grin without an end.

The reptile tried to scrabble away. To escape. Yet, every time he glanced back forward, it appeared closer, its steps relentless. He looked at the rifle, at the one thing that could save him, to see it fall behind the demon's feet.

He couldn't do a thing. His body kept moving but as he watched the lithe, scarlet figure close in, looming and stretching over him, the overwhelming dread could not be helped.

Behind the man, the shadows came to life.

The reptile threw his hand out, flipping onto his stomach. Still reaching out. Still trying to survive.

The hand grasped at a dent. He pulled on it, to go further up. To find that he couldn't. He wasn't let to.

A gush of pain. The hand let go, unable to hold on. Down, by his feet, the boneless fingers intertwined with him, capturing him. Squeezing.

A scream escaped the reptile, the sensation paralyzing. He flung around, at the things on his feet, at the ground, neither giving him the help to breathe. Nothing stopping the thing from taking over him.

And it did.

He couldn't fight anymore. He couldn't move. The heartbeat was all there was, resonating everywhere, preventing him from passing out. He knew he was shouting, crying, but he couldn't hear it.

The smile…

It was meant to be seen. The bliss. Forced on him. To be the last thing…

And it was. For the heartbeats went rapid. Indistinct. All consuming.

Before finally turning silent.


She didn't know how to feel.

"Keep looking!"

The sights clashed with her emotions, messing with her thoughts.

Something caught her eye. Her focus shifted.

"Down there!" Charlie shouted, pointing down to a low-standing roof. Razzle and Dazzle turned in unison, taking a dive through the air soon after. The princess hung under them, carried by their arms.

The air grew louder the closer they got. And then, the scene cleared on them.

"Stop him!"

Their plummeting redirected. At the Radio Demon. By the time he turned towards her, it was too late.

They collided. They fell. And rolled.

Static erupted, the sky, the city malforming. But as Charlie rose, her first concern was the stranger.

He was unbound, dumbed on the ground by the edge of the building. His first sign of life came with a vomit.

Charlie ran to him.

"Quickly!" She shoved a pen and a paper into his face. "Sign this so he can't hurt you!"

The pen vanished. The paper came apart. All taken by a blink.

She could feel him behind her. A presence, demanding to be faced. Which she did, slowly standing up and turning.

Shadows. All around, yearning for blood. Inseparable from the static, the high, wavering pitch. Razzle and Dazzle flew past her.

"This does not concern you"

"It-" As her eyes came to meet his, she had to pause. It wasn't so much the blood, but the eyes themselves, the endless pits of hatred. The mouth, wider than ever, meaning to split his face for nothing more than to missguide.

Still she stood, the demon towering over her, almost dripping on her.

"Please Al!" Charlie implored, finding her voice. "Don't do this! You don't have to do this. Alastor listen, you were given a second chance, I know you can be good! You are better than this!"

"We made a deal." The voice said, warped and gravely. Beyond him, something reached out from the shadows, twisting unnaturally, yet kept at bay.

"I k-know." She hated to admit it. "I-I understand that you're angry. Why you're angry. I do! But this is not right, this will not give you anything! I can help you! You've detained from killing before and-"

He stepped forward, making her step back. Except she couldn't. The shadows grew closer. She glanced over her shoulder, where the goats had barricaded over the reptile.

"Alastor… please." Her voice broke. "W-we can… deal… for another favor. Please just… don't kill him."

He was inches away, ticking on her very existence.

"Stand. Aside."

The voice wasn't warped. It wasn't tuned. It was devoid of static, natural and honest.

Cruel.

Charlie stared at him, speechless. Short on options. Therefore, inert and with great regret, she stepped to the side.

Alastor followed it, his gaze tracking the gentle submission. Once out of the way, he didn't waste time moving on the reptile.

The two goats slid back, changing looks before ultimately flying off, leaving the shooter to sit alone on the ground. Alone with the Radio Demon.

With each stride, darkness followed close behind. Until Alastor ceased moving, the reptile placed under him, facing the ground. Smothered in his shadow.

The demon lowered on him. To make him look.

Except, he did look. Head lifting, gazing up at Alastor. Barely conscious, murky substance around the mouth and lap. With a mound of papers down, by his arm.

With one presented.

The name.

Bleeding.

A hand, reaching low, stopped on the reptile's throat.

Everything stopped.

The tune, the horde. The sky. Except for a single audible creak, it all went under, a death like quiet settling upon the roof. In contrast to earlier, the air felt almost deafening.

Charlie, standing off from the crowd, watched it wither. Listened as the tune was willed into decay. And witnessed their horned lord rise up and reel around, at her.

"I… I'm sorry."

It was all she could say. All she could do to appease the haunting gaze.

A hoof pounded on the stone. Then another.

She wrung her hands. "I really mean it."

A third. Fourth.

"But… I couldn't let you do it."

The last of the trudging ended a step away, with him standing. Hands behind his long spine. Zeroed in with owlish focus, betraying nothing inside.

The gaze found her opened jacket.

"I… this is for the better." Mumbling the last part out, Charlie sulked past the eyes, the grin. She didn't want to be the one it was directed at.

Yet she knew that it followed. And that she couldn't change it.

Trying to ignore it, to put it behind, she instead attended to the foul sight of the stranger. He wasn't sitting anymore. She kneeled down, to wake him. From which she refrained once she observed the legs, the damage to them as well as the arm, stowing in a pool.

Her jacket came off.

"He's wounded!" She called out, tying the sleeves just below his shoulder. "We need to get him medical care!"

No response. After tightening the cloth, Charlie turned to the others.

"Razzle! Dazzle!"

The goats veered away from Alastor.

"Just, come here and… see if you can pull him up."

They did as told, assessing the stranger before grabbing on. The Radio Demon however, lingered in the same spot, fixated on her.

Silent.

"Al!" Charlie pleaded. "Could use your help here!"

The call was not answered, the demon remaining where he was, smiling their way.

"Fine." She turned back.

The reptile maffled complaints as the goats logged him around, trying to take off. It was difficult, despite him being roughly Charlie's size, though bulkier.

They paused at the sound of a running motor, assailing the general silence by appearing out of nowhere, soaring over them. Pass them. The noise settled in the distance, around the wafting pillar of smoke.

"Change of plans!" The princess yelled, returning to her bodyguards. "You guys fly back to the limo. Get it out of there before more media comes and drive it here."

Seeming almost happy with the task, the two were gone a second later, leaving the reptile to Charlie. She grasped his collar.

"Wake up!"

She smacked his chin.

"WAKE UP!"

He did wake up, painfully too, by the sound of it. Charlie elevated his right arm onto her shoulders, to get him elevated. A mistake that brought out a roaring yelp, resulting in another fall.

Little shaken, Charlie's gaze unwillingly rose to the Radio Demon. At that beaming smile and the dark features around it.

"He'll live!" Charlie stated, more opposingly than intended. It didn't seem to face him in the least.

Just like before though, she meant it. Really meant it.

Moving, she peered over the edge of the roof. The drop wasn't too bad, at least for her. She backtracked to the stranger.

"Alright." She rolled him so she could loop one arm under his knees and another on his backbone. The lift was steady, as was their way to the stone rim. "This… might hurt."

The words fell on unconscious ears. She went through with it anyway.


A wooden frame soared open, parting in the early night. A group of different shapes and sizes entered.

"You guys go ahead. Make him something to eat. Something soft."

"Charlie?!"

The princess, under the weight of the new guest, looked down the hall. The fireplace had a warming effect on the lobby.

"What happened?!" Vaggie hollered, getting off the couch. She saw the two goats walk past. "The radio went down and you wouldn't… answer…" She locked eyes with the reptile.

"Vaggie" Charlie addressed, strained. "I need you to check the guest rooms and help me get him-" She nodded at her cargo. "-into one."

The cargo was carried bridal style. Vaggie viewed its limbs, the dressing of gauze and straps under the dark pants. How its jaw clenched at every footfall. She searched the other faces, discovering no more than a smile from the back.

As they passed her, Vaggie joined her girlfriend. "Charlie… about earlier…"

"It's fine." The hostess assured, vexed. "We'll talk later. Just… need to get him to lie down somewhere first."

With a nod, the two proceeded to carry the stranger up the stairs, the third, eager-to-stalk-along member at their tail.

Upstairs, they went to the first guest room presented. Shuffling to fit in the quaint frame, they made their way to the unlit interior. They deposited the guest on the bed.

Charlie tucked him in. "Try and get some sleep. He won't bother you anymore."

"Should we… umm…" Vaggie hesitated to even ask. "Undress him? Because, if he's wounded-"

"He'll manage." The hostess concluded, backing up.

Vaggie looked at her. "Charlie… are you alright?"

At that, Charlie turned to her girlfriend. From which she then focused on the tall, dark man standing further behind, lighting a grin at the bed.

"Alastor!? Get out of here!"

The grin shifted on her. She pointed at the door, a line of sight which the demon did not follow.

"Go." She commanded.

He was still silent. Unresponsive and cold. A few tense seconds later, a stroll began down the advised way.

Charlie let out a quiet breath.

"What was that?" Vaggie posed, put on guard. "What the hell happened, what'd he do?!"

"Nothing" The hostess revealed. "...Or, a lot. Look, I'm not sure what to make of it myself. But right now we really need to watch over this guest, okay. I'll take the first couple hours and then we'll switch." She began towards the door but stopped at another thought. "Where are the others?"

"...uuhhh…" Vaggie was effectively put off guard. "Well, Niffty's here. Somewhere."

"What about Angel? Husk?"

"...They went out. But I don't get-"

"They should be here. Are they together at least?"

"Who knows?!" Vaggie exclaimed, tossing off the subject. "It doesn't matter! What matters is why is he in danger?"

The gestures led Charlie to look at the bed, at the guest peering at them from the covers.

"Because he shot Alastor."

The statement settled over the room, weighting their disquiet. Charlie turned back to Vaggie, meeting her ample gaze. It was atypical, her diffidence to react.

"I… uuh, I'll see if I can get hold of Angel."

She turned towards the door. Charlie, picking a chair to go, followed behind.

A mouth full of teeth could be seen through the doorway, waiting.

Once they were out, Alastor broke his silence. "Ladies." He greeted, walking past them, on his way in the room.

"Hey!" The hostess blurted, sliding to block the frame. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I think I'm going to interview him. And oh, I think I'm going to learn plenty."

"No, you're not." She whammed the door shut.

"I will." He bent forward. "But not to worry, I'm sure he'll live."

Vaggie watched the exchange, debiting. Before walking away, phone in hand, to do the best she could with what she had.

"No." Charlie repeated, asserting her chair against the closed entry. "His interview can wait and I will take care of it. You will leave him be."

"Come along if you so want." Alastor said as Charlie sat down. "It will be of no matter. Because I am going in there and that is something you won't be in the way of."

The pitch rose. Charlie stared at him, at the first glimpse of him, hidden after the roof.

"Al…" She had a hard time finding the right words. "...I am sorry. I hope that you understand that, that I did it for you just as much as I did it for him. Just like I'm doing right now."

Her hand arose.

A snap of fingers. A call for a new presence, collecting both of their attention.

A slither of black and white presented itself, gracefully coasting through the hallway. Akin to a leaf, it hovered over the two, until finally swooping down into the hand of the princess.

She held it up for him to see.

"Your plan on keeping me out?" Alastor questioned, unconcerned eyes rising from the black key.

"Yeah actually." She replied, guiding it into the door's lock. "In case you try, this will keep you out."

The key twisted. The lock rattled. Charlie looked at Alastor, who was yet to speak.

"I know." She spoke for him, pocketing the key. "I feel it too."

He didn't react, simply standing and gazing, examining the wooden gate.

A somber sight left her. "We will interview him Al. And we will get to the bottom of this. Just not now."

His eyes drew to her. Hands, always behind his back. His lips curved up into a smile.

She couldn't read him. And soon, he left her, to saunter down the hallway.

Charlie sat back, least of all relaxed.

The day had not been good.


The wooden boards stared at him mockingly.

He wished to sleep. Wanted to sleep. But couldn't, his body reliving the day over and over. At times he felt dizzy, like falling. When not, when the feeling was absent, there was the ache.

He closed his eyes again. To sleep. To see the ceiling once more.

The darkness didn't help, festering him, divesting his rest with their dancing. Shrieking. To which he closed his eyes to.

To open. Again.

The room was small, windowless. He couldn't see the main door, located behind the corner of the closed bathroom, all to his left. A deduction, given that he couldn't get up and verify it.

His head thrummed, the mattress under him failing, letting him go.

Maybe this time…

The ceiling mushed, veiling behind the dark. And then it was gone.

He felt his legs move. He was running, with the wind rinsing against the scales of his scalp. He didn't know why he ran but he knew he had to. Because the sound… it was right on him!

The screech.

The dark dispersed, the ceiling spreading over him, to bear witness to his fight to sit up. To escape it. But he couldn't, the pain was too much. The boards seemed to blear. Nothing made sense! He screamed out in agony but the sound never came out. He wasn't breathing! The realization took him by a storm. The inability to draw air in, to fill his lungs.

A black, inky character slid above him, on him. And it smiled down gloatingly.

His lungs were about to give out. His heart was weak. He could now see its eyes as well, the off color spheres.

They began to ascend. As they did, he could feel the air coarse into his lungs, his nostrils unobscured.

"We are going to have a chat, you and I." It said, moving off of him. "One of compulsory honesty."

The reptile couldn't speak. Not that he would, still desperately gasping for air.

The silhouette came to stand at the end of the bed, its outlines more recognizable. The way it almost reached the ceiling…

"Tell me," The voice mandated. "Where did you acquire the weapon?"

A pressure left his mouth. He took a deep breath, coughing through his words.

"Wha… what do you-"

An ebony limb clasped onto his leg, pressing down and turning. The reptile howled in pain, the sound muffled in his throat.

"Stay in subject." It said, leaning in, watching his efforts with great attention.

A jingle of metal.

A rattle, louder.

The figure let go, glancing to the left. It vanished with a warm shade of light taking its place.

"Ehh… knock knock." A shy, kind voice spoke.

The light flickered, revealing movement. A familiar woman appeared.

"I have some porridge for you." The princess stated with faux cheer, presenting a bowl.

The reptile didn't reply, rigid and breathing heavily. She approached the bed, confused.

"Are you…" She began, taking in the crumbled sheet and disorderly bedding. Her eyes ended on the smearing patch of red.

She sighted. "Did you try to get up?"

He wouldn't answer, his good hand gripping onto the sheet for dear life.

She noticed, eyebrows skewing at it. "Well… here's your meal." She handed the bowl over. As it wasn't received, she lightly set it on his stomach before pulling away.

"I'll get something for your…" The sentence died, her gaze captured by something by the bed. She glanced back at him before reaching over to it.

A radio.

She inspected it, rotating the small receiver. Laid in her arms, she turned to him. Then, down the bed, at the stain.

"He was here… wasn't he."

They shared a look, though she didn't wait for an answer. The radio was quickly carried out of the space. The hostess returned, locking the room from the inside.

"Sorry about this, you're just gonna have to ignore me." Charlie said, sitting down on another chair near the entry. "Get rest, I'll call someone to bring the first-aid stuff here. It's going to be fine."

It would seem the night was not going to be good.


A/N: So… your thoughts?

I know this chapter was very different so I hope it wasn't tedious or off putting to read. I was a little afraid it would come off as bloated, maybe too much underlining and repetition but I figured, you know, in for a penny and all that.

Like I mentioned earlier, this is a chapter that has been living in my head, rent-free, for a while. And, like always, I'd be really interested to know how you felt about it. The action, the tension, juggling third person with first person(-ish), going up, down and sideways; how was it? Good or bad, I'd like to hear about both.

Anyway, I think that's it about this chapter. Pretty sure the next one won't be out before the actual, official Hazbin Hotel series releasing on january 19th. Anyone else defying gravity from excitement?!

Also, happy belated New Year! Sorry for missing it. And thank you for starting the year off with me! :D