[TW for this chapter: SA and gore]
Elida let out a squeak in surprise as a soul with the face of an eel placed a knife to her throat, grabbing her from behind and dragging her to the alley he had jumped out from. "Hey there, gorgeous," his voice was rough and cruel, "Don't move or I'll slit that pretty throat of yours wide open."
He had her wings pinned between their bodies, "Get off me," she screamed. Alastor's head turned around to face them with an unnatural snap. She was kicking her legs wildly as the eel dragged her off. Fading into the shadows, he watched the encounter with interest. Wondering what she would do, he elected not to interfere just yet.
He was right about her screams sounding like music. The sound made him salivate, wishing he could slice her open and cause them himself. But she still hadn't given him reason to justify it, so he was bound by his own code not to hurt her.
He wondered why she wasn't using magic to fend off her attacker. She clearly left much to be desired when it came to physical altercations. It only made sense; she was such a dainty little thing, hardly any muscle on her.
She was panicking, that much was clear. This man would have been no match for her if she'd just kept her head clear. The knife wasn't even made of angelic steel, she was in no real danger, but he supposed this was just one fright too many. Alastor continued to watch as Elida was forced to the ground. It wasn't until the eel-man had begun pulling her dress upward that he intervened. There would be none of that on his watch.
Manifesting back into shape behind the unfortunate little demon, Alastor reached his sharp fingers straight through their back, grabbing their spine like a door handle and ripping through flesh as easily as tissue paper. He couldn't help but laugh maniacally as he tore the spine out of the demon's body, spraying blood all over both himself and the shaking woman below him. The eel hadn't even had the time to cry out before he was dead on the ground. It was going to take quite a while to regenerate the damage.
Alastor licked his fingers, savoring the warm blood coating them. Elida stared at him, wide-eyed. The dark blood looked far too out of place on her gentle face. He summoned an old polaroid camera and snapped a photo of the both of them by the shredded body. She said nothing as the photo printed. He gave it a shake and turned it for her to see, "Your first day in Hell! What a lovely memory this will make." Pocketing the photo and dismissing the camera with a wave of his hand, he held his staff down to Elida to help her up. She grabbed it and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
Alastor had enjoyed the violence of the encounter so thoroughly that he hadn't noticed the small smile on Elida's face. She knew he'd see it when he studied the photo a bit closer, but for now, he was too satisfied with himself to really pay attention. If he'd gotten over himself for a moment, he might have picked up on the melodrama in her screams. She'd been faking.
She knew her attacker was weak, not to mention short-sighted. One flash of heavenly light, or a beam of frost, or any other handful of spells in her arsenal would have incapacitated him enough for her to walk away unscathed; but that was what made this an excellent opportunity. She wanted to see what Alastor would do. If he broke his promise to protect her when the stakes were low like this, she'd know he couldn't be counted on to help her when it really mattered. But his response was telling. He'd waited, giving her the chance to help herself, but still stepped in before it was too late. She found she liked that response quite a bit. It made her feel like he respected her power.
She fought the urge to smirk, instead playing the part of the rescued damsel, clinging to Alastor's arm like a frightened little girl. She manufactured a tremble in her fingers and wrapped one of her wings protectively around herself. She kept her mouth shut, not trusting her voice to sound scared enough.
His grin was particularly wide as he led her on their walk, continuing on as if nothing had happened. Her cold arm had a vice grip on him, which he allowed. It made for an excellent visual, and it really did ease the burning on his skin quite a bit. She waited a block or two before making a show of taking a deep, shaky breath and slowly letting his arm go. "I think… I'm okay now." She looked sheepishly at the ground for good measure.
He didn't respond, instead continuing to walk forward. She followed beside him, wondering exactly how much further the lunch spot was. She was getting hungry.
It turned out to be few more blocks, during which time it had started to rain. The raindrops made her skin tingle, and they were damaging the fibers on her dress. Alastor had summoned an umbrella for himself, but Elida wanted to experience the torrent. When they reached the sandwich shop, she paused a moment and looked up, letting the acid flow over her face. It didn't hurt – not for her at least. The demons around them, however, were screaming in agony. She stuck her tongue out to taste it. The rain was bitter and unpleasant. She'd expected as much.
Alastor watched her curiously. Why would she willingly allow her dress to be ruined? She was so odd. He opened the door, waiting for her to finish twirling. Finally, she stopped and walked inside, ringing out her hair. The noise in the shop hushed at her entrance, staring in confusion. Alastor reveled in the attention.
A waitress who looked like she would love nothing more than to die a second time walked up and greeted them, "You're a little far from home, aren't you?"
Elida tilted her head a bit, taking the waitress in with a small smile on her lips. "Home is where the heart is. My organs are intact, so I think I'm exactly where I want to be."
It was an unhinged thing to say. "The fuck?" Was all the waitress could think of to say in response.
"Table for two please," Alastor's static voice interrupted.
Moving her gaze from the drenched angel to the figure who'd spoken, the waitress's expression shifted from confusion to terror. The radio demon was infamous and easily recognizable. "Of course! Right this way…" There wasn't a chance in Hell she was going to piss an overlord off by turning them away, even if his companion was weird as shit. Eyes followed them as they were guided to their table.
Alastor sat across from Elida in their corner booth. The table was built for a larger group, but it was the only one left, likely due to the rain. Elida studied the menu, surprised at how normal everything looked. She liked comedic irony, so she ordered a venison burger as a subtle joke, hoping someone would say something about it. They didn't. If fact, Alastor got the same thing.
"So, what do you think so far? Is Hell the next up-and-coming vacation spot?"
Elida took a sip of water, washing the acid rain out of her mouth, "I'll give you this, there's never a dull moment. Thanks again for earlier." Despite having been testing and blatantly manipulating him, she was grateful for his actions. He'd kept his promise to keep her safe, and that spoke volumes to her.
"Think nothing of it, my dear, I am a man of my word." His monocle had gotten fogged up from the moisture outside, so he took it off and cleaned it again with his sleeve, "Still plan on staying after your little misadventure?"
"I finish what I start," She replied resolutely.
"Alastor, you outdated piece of shit!" A new voice interrupted them. They turned toward it to see a very angry-looking creature. Elida couldn't quite figure out what they were supposed to be, but she supposed it didn't matter. "I'm gonna beat the shit out of you and fuck that stupid cunt you brought with you with your own bones."
Alastor didn't recognize this demon. It was a shame, he wanted to know what had made him so angry. That way, he could do it again. "No," He replied cheerfully, "I don't think you will." He took a sip of black coffee, unconcerned.
The demon started forward, but Alastor blocked him with a black tendril of magic. Before he could do anything fun, however, Elida had slipped out of the booth and was standing directly in front of their new acquaintance. "What has upset you, my friend?" She had to lean down to look into his eyes.
"I 'aint… your…." His angry voice trailed off as he looked at her. Alastor saw magic on her fingertips. She was casting a spell on this unfortunate little man. "Uh…" His eyes glazed over.
"Why don't you go enjoy your lunch in peace, and forget whatever this anger is about?" Elida's voice seemed to seep into everyone's heads like the high you'd get after taking a particularly well-made drug.
The demon nodded slowly and turned in a daze, eyes still cloudy. He sat back down, and Elida returned to her own seat. "There," she smiled, "Now we're even."
Alastor didn't like being prevented from tearing someone apart, but at least it meant there would be less of a mess in the restaurant as they ate. Their burgers arrived and they both savored every bite. Alastor had recommended this place for good reason. The remaining trip back to the hotel was long, but uneventful, the streets having been cleared by the rain. Elida only agreed to share Alastor's umbrella once her dress was so badly melted that it threatened to fall off her shoulders. She found that she liked the tingle on her skin.
By the time they got back, it was nearly 7. Alastor disappeared to his radio station and Elida ventured to her room to get cleaned up. She waked through the door to find the suite was spotless. The boxes were gone, everything in them put away tidily. Nifty had clearly been hard at work. It was a relief to know she wouldn't have that chore to worry about anymore. She locked the door, a precaution she was unaccustomed to needing, and pulled the remaining rag she had once called a dress over her head. She threw it away. It wasn't worth saving. She needed a shower.
In his tower, Alastor hung the dripping umbrella on a coat rack made of antlers. He pulled his new blood-stained polaroid out of his pocket and set it to the side, not bothering to look any closer at it. No photo could really do the memory of her terrified face justice. Turning a series of dials and pressing a few buttons, his station lit up, a red 'ON THE AIR' sign blinking above him. A song finished playing right as the clock struck 7. Perfect timing, just as planned. He had been doing this for over a century after all.
"Good evening, folks and fiends! Tune on in, because I have quite a doozy for the lot of you today. As you've all seen, Princess Morningstar has rebuilt the Hazbin Hotel and has been working tirelessly to convince you to let her fix you, despite having antagonized the exorcist army into targeting all her friends. Well, as some of you may already know, Heaven has decided to place a brand-new overoptimistic do-gooder onto the game board.
"Earlier today, the Hazbin Hotel gained a new guest, none other than a non-exorcist angel by the name of miss Elida McCarthy," He played a trumpet sound for dramatic effect. "The little icicle publicly announced her presence at the hourglass this morning. She's stirred up quite the storm, ha ha! She stated that the exorcisms will be stopped for as long as she remains here in Hell. That's right, folks! Your chance for your pitiful existence to end has been ripped out from beneath you.
"Miss McCarthy claims that the gates of Heaven are open to whomever wishes to work for it. But I know what you're thinking, 'Alastor, we already know all this.' My my, how that rumor mill does fly! But that's not all, listeners! Ha ha, you simply won't believe it! It seems our new guest has brought back news of our very own Sir Pentious. That's right, folks, the very same Sir Pentious that sacrificed himself in the Battle of Hazbin. Dear Elida brought proof that he's not only alive but has a shiny new halo on his head!"
Alastor played an applause track, mixed with some boo-ing for a little flavor, "You heard that right, listeners, it appears Princess Morningstar isn't all full of baloney after all! I saw the proof myself. The first of Hell's sinners has been allowed to cross the pearly gates and join the eternal paradise for those goody-two-shoes souls that all think they're better than you. If you'd like to try to be next, you can find your redemption here at the Hazbin Hotel. You know where to find us!"
He sat back, confident he'd get a good reaction out of that. He expected that the hotel would be full of tragic souls attempting to claw their way into Heaven by this time next month. Turning off his microphone and beginning a new playlist, Alastor reached his magic outward to see who was listening, pupils taking the shape of dials. It was a good turnout. Even two of the hotel's radios were on, one in Elida's room and one in the lobby. He was amused to find that Vox was listening, too. That pathetic silver screen ought to be fuming by now.
Alastor found himself craving jambalaya. He exited the station, passing by Elida's room. He'd put her right by his tower on purpose, so he could keep an eye on her. He knocked.
"Who is it?" She called; voice muffled from the door.
"Dinner in half an hour," He responded.
"Okay, thank you," She responded, "I'll be down in a minute."
He made his way to the kitchen and got to work. He enjoyed cooking. Food was an art form almost as delightful as murder.
Charlie practically tackled him to the floor, "Oh, Alastor, thank you thank you thank youuu! I bet we'll have dozens of souls positively swarming to join us now!" She squeezed him tight enough to almost hurt, "You're seriously the BEST."
"Ha! Of course I am," He extracted himself from her grip before dinner could burn. "Our new guest did an excellent job of getting people's attention today."
"Oh, we know," Angel stood in the doorway, making a pose others would have found seductive. "You two were all over the news."
That was exactly what he'd been going for. He lived for the drama. "I think it may be wise to hire on additional staff. If the influx of sinners is anything like I expect it will be, we are going to have our hands full!" He let out another static laugh.
Charlie gasped, "Oh fuck, you're right, I didn't even think about that. Vaggie, could you-"
"On it," the fallen exorcist sat down to a computer, already typing a job ad.
Alastor tested the flavor of his mother's jambalaya. Perfect.