I don't normally update this fast, but then again, I also normally don't have the story as fleshed out in my brain as it is now. Fair warning, things will get more graphic from here on out. You've been warned.

Melody Dear

Chapter Four

"Won't that make it too spicy?" Charlie asked Alastor as he started making home fries.

The overlord's eye twitched. How was she older than him and so uninformed on the different types of spices? "No, my dear. Chili Powder adds more smoke than heat to a dish. This will give the potatoes a subtle kick," he said, covering his annoyance with a sense of pride. "Combine that with a nice crispy texture, and the taste will make your eyes pop. It will compliment the casserole nicely," he added, feeling some of his joy return.

He generously sprinkled the chili powder over the potatoes before doing the same with garlic powder, salt and black pepper. Stirring in the spices, he continued. "Now, had I found any of the fresh chili peppers I wanted, or added the cayenne you put away on me," he said, making Charlie avert her gaze, "That would be a different story. But, I'll excuse it for today."

As the home fries cooked, he looked back at Charlie and asked her to shred the cheeses he had gotten out. Following this, it was time to arrange the casserole. The bottom was lined with the sausage, followed by the home fries, some bacon, then the vegetables. Alastor went on to mixing up the eggs, once again being more generous with the seasoning than she was comfortable with before mixing it all together and pouring it over everything. Finally, he and Charlie spread the cheeses.

"So, what kinds are we using?" She asked him as they finished up the prep work.

"Pepper jack, sharp cheddar and gruyere," Alastor told her as he placed their breakfast in the oven. When he stood up and closed the door, he grabbed the kitchen timer. "Somehow, I don't think you're actually curious about this recipe. I've had to repeat myself a few times, you know," he said, putting the device down once the timer was set.

Charlie gave him a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, it's just...I feel bad for her," she said.

Well, that figured. Alastor should have stuck to his guns and not answer any of Charlie's questions until they were done. But, the princess was too excitable to focus properly, so he told her the truth. The bat was a nameless new soul with no recollection of who she was in life. The fact made Charlie's entire good mood deflate, only kept up by Alastor's instruction that they focus so they could make the poor dear smile. This kept the prep work from grinding to a complete halt.

Alastor hummed. "It is a perplexing situation to be sure," he said, narrowing his eyes but his grin relaxed. As complicated as the situation was, Alastor still found it too amusing to even consider fretting about it. "What are the odds, really?" He asked the princess as he started gathering dishes to clean. "I've never met a new arrival with amnesia before," he said, looking at her over his shoulder.

She let out a heavy sigh. "Honestly, it's pretty rare," she admitted, crossing her arms and staring at the floor. "In over 200 years, I've only seen it five times before...well, I guess six now," she said, her frown deepening.

The Radio Demon let out a hum, his grin growing wide. Only six times in over two centuries? That was less than a three percent chance over the thousands of souls that died every year. "Well, it's quite fortunate she came here," Alastor said, turning back to the dishes. "Can you imagine how many demons would take advantage of her situation? I mean, the poor dear didn't even know she had died until I told her," he added, toning down his intrigue with feigned concern.

A small gasp came from Charlie before she moved to stand next to the overlord. "Yeah, you're right," she said, a healthy frown on her face as she looked for a drying rag. "And now that she does know, she's gonna need our help even more. Maybe we should spend the next few weeks teaching her about Hell and its dangers," Charlie said as she found a fresh cloth, a smile returning to her face.

"Capital idea, my dear," Alastor said before looking down at her. "I recommend we start with the importance of her soul, then move on to the dangers of deals and contracts," he said.

Charlie looked at him like a deer did in headlights. "Really?" She asked without thinking. She then shook her head and smiled at Alastor, her eyes narrowed somewhat. "I mean, not that I disagree with you, and I'm very happy you recommended it, Alastor. But-"

"You thought I'd be just as willing to take advantage of her situation," Alastor said, his grin morphing into a smirk. "I'm willing to take advantage of many things, Charlie, but I'm a firm believer that you should know what you're getting yourself into before making a deal," he said as he finished rinsing the suds off the last dish.

This was not a lie. Alastor may be vague at times with what he expected from those who shook his hand, but he was always upfront with the terms of the deal. What he wanted in exchange for what someone needed. However, he was a gentleman, and refused to offer deals to those who didn't know better. The thought left a foul taste in his mouth, and made him feel like he was no better than the lesser overlords. But it did delight him to remember what his mother said about such things.

Now, once their new guest learned better, then all bets were off. He wasn't sure if he wanted her soul or not, but he'd be struck by angelic weapons before he allowed someone else to own it.

His explanation brought a soft smile back to Charlie's face. "Thank you, Alastor. That's a relief to hear," she said.

The morning pressed on, and everyone came down in time for the casserole to come out. Alastor grabbed a serving tray and set aside servings for himself and their nameless guest, and poured the girl a glass of orange juice. Once done, he asked Charlie to inform the others about the new resident and the lesson plans that had to be instilled once she recovered. When she accepted the job, Alastor grabbed the tray and left for the bat's room.

The new guest got up from bed. She had been waiting for a good while it felt like, and she was getting sore from lying down. She couldn't go back to sleep. It was too loud outside now, and the glow from whatever made up Hell's sun bothered her more than she cared to admit. She wanted to remove the IV, the prick in her arm feeling like a sharp burn. But she wouldn't. Couldn't really, especially with how considerate and kind people were about her situation.

Alastor, for everything that felt off about him, was kind to her, and did answer her questions honestly. He was the facility manager, but between the chair with the obvious dip in the cushion and the coffee mug still half full, she knew he was the one looking after her. Not to mention the guest who helped her get inside and, if not the owner, then the manager of the hotel who let her stay here. She didn't want to mess with anything. They were too kind, and in Hell, that was a huge relief to her.

She grabbed the IV stand, using it to balance herself before moving around the room. There was another thing. They could have placed her anywhere, but they chose a good sized room that, despite its darker colors, felt just as warm as the old bedroom she remembered from when she was alive. On top of that, the room was immaculate. There wasn't any wear or tear in anything, not even scuff marks from moving the chairs.

The bat moved around the bed and into the en suite bathroom. She was sure her own appearance had changed drastically, but as she looked into the mirror, she felt her stomach clench. She knew what monochrome was, but she hadn't expected the color palette to make up her skin. The color of her eyes matched the room, and the shape of them as well as her four ears caught her by surprise. Forming a tight grin, she saw sharp white fangs, irregular in size. She was dressed in a lavender nightgown, with short ruffled sleeves, a lace collar with a white ribbon, and a skirt that flowed down her to her knees.

Her black features were what unnerved her the most. From the black veins beneath her eyes going down her cheeks, to the black of her lips and nails, and the lines going from them to her torso, she looked downright monstrous. A part of her couldn't help but wonder why she looked like this, or if there was any reason for it.

Suddenly, the room changed. The only thing there was the mirror in front of her, the rest of the room turning into a murky, fog-covered wasteland. Her reflection was just a white silhouette with dark, blank eyes and long hair. She reached out to touch it, but couldn't see her own hand. She did feel the mirror, the glass feeling like a frozen tundra.

Her reflection then began to bleed black. From her forehead, her eyes and her neck. Fear took hold of her, but struggle as she might, she couldn't remove her hand from the mirror, and she couldn't look away. A dark mass came up from behind her reflection, countless eyes on her and many sets of teeth smirking at her. They all took a bite. Her shoulders, her thighs, her waist, one of her arms and one of her breasts. Not bitten off but munched at like a dog's favorite chew toy. And they all bled black.

A claw came from the beast and ripped straight down from her throat to her vagina. She was soaked in the dark liquid and struggled to breathe, meanwhile all the mouths continued to gnaw and bite into her harder, but still refusing to just take what they sank their fangs into. All the while, the creature soaked its claw with her blood, fondling every part of her body, scratching, tearing and pulling at whatever spots were most sensitive.

"Are you all right, my dear?" A voice rang out.

The woman blinked. She was in the bathroom. Her hand was touching the mirror. She could see her demonic visage, and was now able to breathe normally. Off in the doorway was Alastor, still smiling but his eyes narrowed. In what? She couldn't tell. But she was grateful to see him, regardless.

After panting for a few more moments, she let her hand slide down and touch the bathroom counter. She turned her head in his direction, but turned her gaze to the floor. "Sorry, Mr. Alastor. I...I think I was hallucinating," she admitted to him, combing her free hand up her hair and over one of her lower ears. "There was a...creature in my...mirror," she added, her voice trailing off. She had meant to say more, but her voice disappeared on her. The words simply wouldn't come out. It was as if doing so would make her lungs dry up and her heart to burst out of her chest.

Alastor's eyes widened at her answer. He said nothing for a few moments, then stepped into the bathroom. He hooked a finger under her chin so she'd look at him. His eyes had relaxed at this point, and his smile, though still off to her, didn't set her on edge.

"My dear, I do appreciate your manners, but I do recall saying you shouldn't apologize for something you can't control," he told her, his reprimand sounding like it was made in jest. Alastor then moved his hand, placing the back of his fingers on her forehead. "As for your hallucination, you came here sick, my dear. And it feels as though your fever spiked a little. Nothing to fret over," he told her, moving his hand behind his back.

She blinked at him, still panting. "Sinners can get sick?" She croaked out as she thought it.

Alastor hummed. "Yes, we can, just not as easily as before," he said, bringing his cane out and lightly tapping her head with it. "Now, come along. Our breakfast is getting cold."

He led her back to bed, getting her comfortable and tucking her in before placing a silver tray in front of her. When Alastor sat down in the chair by her bed, she began eating alongside him. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but the taste left her speechless, stunned even. Then she took another bite, forcing herself to savor the food and not shove it all into her mouth. She finished it within minutes, then moved to sip her juice.

She stopped at hearing Alastor chuckle. "I take it you enjoyed the casserole, my dear?" He asked, a knowing smirk on his face.

She swallowed her juice, turning away with a sheepish smile before putting her cup down. "It was delicious, Mr. Alastor," she said.

He let out another small laugh. "Thank you. And please, dear, just Alastor. Last time I was called "Mister," I was still human," he said, his smile more playful.

Her smile grew. "All...all right, then," she said.

She watched as Alastor put his plate on her bedside table. He moved his hand over his coffee mug, a light red glow radiating over it. When the light faded, the black liquid was steaming again. He picked up the handle of his mug and sipped from it. She couldn't help but snicker when she saw the words "Oh Deer" spelled out on it.

Then a thought struck her. "Um, Alastor? May I ask you something?" She asked him, her lower ears twitching.

Alastor lowered his mug, staring at her a moment before leaning back into his chair. "When asked so politely? How could a man say no?" He replied, waving his free hand before using it to grab his cane. "What would you like to know, dear?"

Abrupt ending, I know. But I don't want to stretch this one out and take away from the next chapter. Thanks for reading, and if you would, please tell me what you think of it so far. I'll see you in the next one.