Zestial gazed down at the blight before him. "It has fallen onto the hour …" He growled out. "The toll has gone long overdue …"
"P-please, just give me a w-week. I can fix-"
"Doth feed me nothing but lies from thou wretched tongue." Zestial accused. "The time has arrived …"
"Please, you can torture me, rip me apart, just don't-"
"The penalty is hath steep as ever, accused soul … Thou's library card is revoked." Three years of not paying late fees, the atrocity.
"..Ahh.."
"Such a stain upon thy character has be strick this day. Until they fee is filled and payed in full, thou integrity will greatly be questioned." Over such an easily fixable mistake too. Sloth may be a few rings away, but it's sin was apparently all over hell. Clearly standards were getting harder to keep.
"... Oh no … the horror … " The blight awkwardly stepped back. "I must… go home.. And reflect upon my grievances and mistakes…." And they quickly ran away, conjuring enough force on the ground to crack it as they sprinted.
"... Such lowsome souls." Zestial shook his head. Where was the good old days, where men respected one another, and frocked and follied within the chaos?
"Didn't you have him under contract sir?" His secretary asked.
"Quite. If thou still has not paid the fee within thirty decades, and interest has grown beyond control, give thou the usual treatment." Turning them into a book to forever scream in sorrow. "Fear is natural, but torment is the last resort." If people assumed you'd fly off the handle at any given grievance, they'd be too scared to even LISTEN to anything you had to say, and if there was one thing Zestial loved to do, it was listening.
"I'll get the spiders on him right away." Why couldn't all people be as delightful as those who listened? In his time in hell, he learned the best way to get ahead was to be the most informed, extending his web of knowledge to every cricket and facet in hell. It not only provided opportunities for power, but olive branches for friendships. "Hmm …"
"Has a stray fly caught thou's attention?" He questioned with a grin.
"Not even close … but I am getting something. Apparently radios are all broadcasting the same signal."
"The radio? Thy waves have remained still with static for quite some time." While not completely outdated, as hell was rather slow to progress (something that most overlords didn't mind. With tradition came order, unlike those unruly ruffian V's), to have the radio play at any time of the day was unusual, especially in the past seven years.
"You think if we turn them on we'll get 'the boys are back in town'?"
"... A century passes and thou still hath the strangest of comedies." He dryly noted. "May art request thy activate the object so we shall partake in this curious of developments?"
"Already on it." They slid over to the device, cranking up the volume.
"I didn't need to in the slightest! Oh quite a show, quite the show!" A familiar voice from within the old entertainment contraption.
"Ah, the enigma has returned with a spark ignited." The radio demon. A soul curious and fascinating, with well met manners, and a strange darkness Zestial could never quite fathom.
"The radio demon?" His secretary questioned. "I thought he died seven years ago."
"Merely vanish. To fall onto holy arms would presume his souls would be released." Something Zestial and Rosie would have taken delight in claiming … but merely hidden … biding his time? A deal with nobility? The possibilities were as numerous as they were delightful.
"...YOU WERE WATCHING THE WHOLE TIME!?" The familiar voice of Husk shouted in rage. He often wondered what caused the once prominent Overlord to fall into such disawry.
"Of course he was." An unknown voice noted. "He likes to watch us suffer and refuses to help because it's beneath him."
"It seems someone has him down pat." His secretary noted.
"Subservience comes natural for some rather than most." He remembered the legions of souls during the slavery era of america that fell right into the role again given their history.
"You're learning Suzuki." Alastor gave a small snicker of joy. "Although watch is a strong word. I had one of my shadows tail your actions today and broadcast the carnage to me. It brought me back to the great depression, hearing about all the starving children struggling and having the cries announced for all the world to hear and for the more privileged to mock."
"… Alright, I will admit I didn't think you were thatevil since you let me sleep in a bed and fed me." The unknown soul spoke.
"Well, almost there." To truly know the radio demon was to knownan ever changing fire of passion and suffering.
"He's from the early 1900's. If you weren't starving right on the street, you were getting off on the misery of the time." Husk explained with a low growl simmering within his voice. "So you got the contract of a freaking kid just to watch him squirm in hell?"
"Got it in one, old chum! In fact, I was so entertained that I broadcasted this little misadventure for the masses to enjoy!" The overlord shouted out.
"He what?" The new soul asked.
"You what?!" Husk shouted in disbelief.
"He's what?" His secretary questioned.
"I believe Alastor is proclaiming a new form of program to rein hell with."
"That's right folks, the radio demon is back to bring you style, staring our new star, Iruma Suzuki, the first ever living human to be damned to HELL!" Clapping noises cheered. "Feel free to torture him as you see fit, dear sinners. What he does next will baffle anyone! Stay tuned to listen to his baffling luck or screams of torment!"
"I already love this show!" The one known as … Nifty… a soul so deranged that it even gave Zestial pause to approach, shouted with excited glee. "Now I can hear the doggie's screams wherever I go!"
"I hate that guy." Both the human and Huster grumbled at the same time.
"But isn't it worth it for the comradery?" The demon teased.
"No, no it's not." The soul known as Iruma groaned.
"Oooh, and here I assumed you had no one else willing to come down and save you." Alastor spoke in a voice that conveyed his smile. "Any friends you'd like to name, any at all?" The silence was telling.
"A live human in hell… one with a contract?" His secretary asked. "Is that even allowed?"
"Thou appears the lines between the mortal and immortal planes fall looser than one such as thy assumed." He chuckled. "The mysteries of thine universe forever unfold, even to those as aged as art." So many new possibilities, so many new opportunities to learn! Oh it brought excitement within his old bones. "Leave thou radio on for the foreseeable fortune, much to be learned within the medium of entertainment it seems."
Using a living soul… how odd. What plans of the radio demon required meddling with mortals?
Katie sat still as her make up was done, the timer reaching zero. "I swear, if I see my face looking bad in post, you're losing your fingers Maralyn." Just because she was in hell didn't mean she couldn't slack on her looks. To get ahead in this business, one needed to look as fuckable as possible. That wasn't even something she learned in hell, that was just the standard everyone in the news business had to live by. "And for the love of Satan, can we please tear out Tom's throat and keep it that way. The scrub's only good for punchlines anyways."
"Statistics in the latest polls show there's a fifteen percent increase in viewership when the audience can hear his girlish screaming of pain."
"Did you have to specify girlish?" The 'man' questioned.
"Well we said androgynous cause nobody's seen what's under that mask, but everyone assumed it was girlish in the comments." The date analyst notted. "And there's a five percent viewership investment when the male populace assumes you're a woman."
"Everyone knows women are more fuckable then guys." Katie grumbled.
"Alright people, wrap it up!" The producer shouted. "We're on in five, four, three, two!" With a snap, the lights were in place.
"Good evening citizens of Pentagram City. I'm your host, Katie Killjoy."
"And I'm her anchorman, Tom Trench."
"No one gives a fuck Tom." She chuckled while punching his face. "Now for our first report, Voxtech stocks have never been so low before. Tom, how low are we talking?"
"Lower than your ex went on your last date night!"
"Oh my, so low." She chuckled as she choked her co-anchor. She didn't mind the cheap jabs at all really, it just gave her more of an excuse to rip into his sackless groin more. "All because of some bitch boy human and some imps managing to fuck over his latest attempt to piss off the Radio Demon."
"The Radio demon?! I thought that furry ass gobler was dead!" Tom chuckled as he pried himself from her grip, slamming his head into the ground
"Apparently not. He made his return quicker than you get one off after seeing a Taiwanese hooker!" She shouted. "So far he has made no physical action other than bringing a human to hell and broadcasting their screams for all to hear. Along with advertising revenue in a newly known private firm."
"They're run by imps of all degenerate demons calling themselves the Immediate Murder Professionals. I don't know if that's clever acronym use or just way too on the nose." Tom spoke up as he drank some coffee.
"It's fucking Imps, Tom, they're probably came up with the name first and spent a month using their grade school education to fit an acronym around it." The best way to drum investment in anything in hell was to roast the fuck out of it. "And speaking of, since the airing of the Radio demon's latest broadcast, which at the moment seems to solely be a 24/7 viewing of the bitch boy's life in hell. Listeners have been actively engaging to largely abandoned radio stations to catch a glimpse, though they're mostly pedophiles trying to jerk off to the sound of an adolescent!"
"Beware fuckers, I hear that boy's a biter. He may rip it out before you shoot it out."
"Unlike you Tom, who never manages to shoot anything down under." She laughed as he smashed the man's cup and rammed the jagged pieces into their face. "Unoriginal Truman style rippoff podcast aside, it's proven to be enough of the blow to put a dent within the V's stock by a whoppin 40 percent in the past week! Is this beginning of the end of Hell's most influential overloards!?"
"I can-" Tom coughed out some glass. "I can only imagine the screams of Vox when he hears how low Voxtech viewership is."
"FUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKK!"
"... Don't imagine, you're hearing it. Vox shouting to the world at how much of a bitch he is." Katie grinned. "Coming up next-"
"Something your ex told you never." Tom got one in.
"Lucifer Morningstar? Fearful fuckable Father or sadboy bastard baby?" Kattie grinned as she stabbed her pen through her co-host's chest. "All this and more, right after this quick break." She took a minute to blink. "LISTEN YOU WHINY LITTLE BITCH-!"
Octavia sighed as she played with the radio. One of her old stations recently got wrecked because Mammon bought out the land for another one of his projects. That creepy clown hoarding money grubbing spider … The sin creeped her out to no end, and not just because of his likeness to that robot long arm fucker at Loo Loo land…. She had nightmares about that horror to this day.
So now she was trying to find a new station to enjoy, something dark enough to reach her soul and help her drown out the noise that was her mom and dad shouting at each other. "YOU FUCKING PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A MAN! YOU FUCKED AN IMP IN OUR FUCKING BED!"
"So what?! It's my house and I get to do whatever I want it in! It's not like you're jealous or anything!"
"YOU FUCKED IT IN THE BED I SLEEP IN, AND ANNOUNCED IT AT MY PARTY YOU TWINKY LONG NECKED BITCH! Do you know how long it'll take for me to save the family face!?"
"You don't care about the family, you just hate the idea of ME divorcing you!"
"OF COURSE I DO! I HAD TO SPEND YEARS STUCK WITH A PRICK LIKE YOU! PEOPLE SHOULD BE PRAISING ME FOR THAT ALONE!"
As you can hear, she had quite the lovely little bond to view for her life. Octavia may have been naive before, but when she saw her parents growing up, she never sensed or saw any hostility. All the paintings of them together growing up had all of them smiling and laughing together ... And that's how she thought her family actually was for these past seventeen years.
She wondered how much of it was fake. How many smiles didn't mean anything … how many hugs didn't mean anything … how many times dad said he loved her didn't mean anything …
Was it all a lie? Was his promise to her… his promise to always be there until the end… until the last star in the universe blew up, until his last story could be told… all just a farce. Would… would her dad run off ... Run off with that walking red dildo and leave her behind in this empty house … left to herself to fend?
Octavia angrily flicked the dial, letting it spin as she found nothing. Just empty songs, empty promises, empty everything. Cold, dead, lonely. What was the point in-
Click
And then it finally stopped … as a boy's voice exploded. "No, it's the perfect time, because for the last fourteen years, I had no one to blame for my life except my parents, and I was fine with just passively ignoring them and then forgetting about them." A voice said, in a tone that matched her anger… a lively tone that equaled her misery… and hate. "But now I realize that there's someone else I can throw in there…for ruining my life."
… It wasn't music … but she let it play out. Something about that emotion drew her in.
"Iruma, please, just let me help you and-" A woman's voice, soft spoken and gentle, to the point where Octavia could almost hear chimes with every word, tried to speak.
"You know, I could have dealt with it if you didn't cover me from a bullet or two. Or get a little colder on snowy nights … but you said nothing." 'Iruma' interrupted.
"Iruma, I wasn't allowed to-"
"Allowed to what? Say there's one person up there that actually cares?" He asked. "I'm not your son, I'm just a job to you." That … had to hurt. And it … also matched her. She was a precautionary heir … a 'just in case' child. "I don't know how your life up there in heaven is, but I know for a fact that it's a hundred percent better than ANYTHING i've had to deal with in my life on earth!" Wait… in heaven… was this boy talking to an angel?
"And we can try and fix your life on earth now that-"
"THERE IS NO LIFE ON EARTH!" He screamed, sounding absolutely done with the woman. "My parents sold my soul to a demon!" They … what? "Sold it to a crazy radio psycho who wants nothing more than to see me suffer! I can't even wish for death, because that just means I lose access to earth, the one place I can actually PRETEND life isn't as bad as I think it is!"
… Okay, someone definitely had worse parents than Octavia. At least she had the deluded memories of happiness the past seventeen years.
"What… they…. They.." The woman sounded angry for a change. "They're not going to get away with this Iruma, I swear we can fight-"
"You lost the right to fight for me the moment you let it happen.." Iruma cut her off. "Now the closest thing to relief I have is the three psychos right behind you because they are at least tryingto make things easier for me, even though they're REALLY BAD AT IT!" He shouted, clearly annoyed.
"You're welcome." … Was that the imp fucking her dad?
"My parents soldmy soul, and you just sat there and took it!" He shouted, sounding as if he was crying. "Now I'm stuck in hell forever, getting tortured just because the guy finds it funny!" He cried out. "The closest thing I have to a friend is another demon who knows that no matter how hard you try, life doesn't get better, and all we can do is suck it up! THAT'S THE LESSON OF MY WHOLE LIFE! To suck up and absorb the pain while other people benefit! I'm a living tool. I've accepted it, I've lived with it, just cut the pretense that you're the maternal figure I need because if you are, YOU'VE FAILED SPECTACULARLY!" … He … he just … was hurt …
"Iruma.." The angel sounded like she was crying too.
"Stop talking like you care…" Iruma argued. "Just say you don't and get it over with! Just leave, pretend I don't exist, that's better than you claiming you see me at all…"
"Iruma… I see you…" She floated closer to him. "I…I love you." For some reason… hearing those words ... Hurt … they hurt more than comforted, and she wasn't even the target of them.
"Where were you when I needed you the most…. Not just being sent to hell… but when I needed a hug!? Or a pat on the back, or when I needed just the slightest bit of assurance that my life matters!? That everyday of my life wasn't just some practical joke for the amusement of others!? Where were you!?" He cried more as his voice strained. "Where were you…. Where were you…." … Someone to love … someone to care about him … care about them.
"...I will never say I don't love you Iruma…" The angel said with a shaken tone. "For all my horrible mistakes… I won't ever say that. I'm sorry … there were rules that I couldn't be seen." Empty words… excuses…. If you weren't there… then the sentiment didn't matter… good inventions didn't matter… not if they weren't there to give them.. "But trust me … for so … solong I wanted you safe and sound … every night … every bit of rain on the tents … when you had nothing but newspapers … I'm sorry." She spoke, her voice almost muffled by the sounds of fabric.
"Why… why…" He chanted. "Why… why…" Why couldn't she show it more. "Why… why…" Why did it always have to hurt?
The door opened. "Via?" Father asked, looking in. "I heard shouting. Are you alright?"
She turned the radio down to nothing as the voices switched from the boy. "Just fine dad. I'm listening to some new music."
"Oh…One of those new fangled pop rock tunes I take.." Her dad tried sounding cool, and failed spectacularly.
"Something like that." She turned her head. Okay… this was her chance to get it off her chest. "Dad-"
"GET THESE FUCKING PLANTS OUT OF HERE!" The sound of her mom and smashed windows echoed.
His face frowned. "Can you at least give me FIVE FUCKING MINUTES to check on our daughter!"
"WHY!? YOU GOING TO FUCK AN IMP IN HER BED TOO!?"
The man sighed. "I'm sorry, I'll be back in a few minutes." He left her … all alone …
He… didn't care about her… or if he did, he cared more about fucking that asshole and shouting at mom more than her. Why bother to even pretend he cared… would he rather she disappear to save him the trouble, the pretense of what he wanted. She…she was alo-
She looked back to the radio … Someone .. someone who wanted their parent to just say they were there.. some to say I love you to… she thought she was alone with that feeling. Someone DID understand what she going through… someone DID know what it was like…. She… she wasn't alone.
Octavia flipped it back on, softer this time. "Why must you imps endanger every life around you!?"
"Cause it's our job and we do it well! Now stop us from hitting the ground pretty please!"
"Darn it!" The boy shouted, before wind began sounding out. This boy…. Iruma…. He understood what it felt like… to be left alone with no one.
Octavia grabbed a blanket, and hugged her knees as she leaned in to listen intently. As long as she heard this boy's voice… she wouldn't feel alone.
Cheri Bomb cackled as she tossed a bomb. "Hey Angie, I know you aren't big on oldie stuff, but did you hear about the radio boy?" She questioned her bestie.
"Radio? They still make those fucking oversized boom boxes?" The spider demon smirked as she shot a ram demon full of lead.
"Eh, some big shot fucker has enough power to keep em relevant." She knew he wasn't big on politics, so there wasn't a need to get too specific.. "So get this, said big shot fucker brought a live ass human to hell!"
"Wait, really?" Angie's eight eyes widen as he chocked a bitchwith his button two arms while cracking skills with the top two. "Isn't hell overpoplated already without those fleshbags coming down for a meet and greet?"
"Yeah, extermination is gonna be a real bitch." She chuckled, tossing a bomb behind her without looking, posing for the cool explosion. "Anyway, the kid's japanese."
"Huh, I fucked a few japense sinners couple years ago. Pervy squinty eyed buggers. They have this thing called Hentai and it's led to some really kinky shit that Val's been trying to exploit for years." Angie commented as he shot a fish demon in the face. "And everyone understand that crapy language?"
"Nah, it's like hell magic or however that works. Everyone speaks the same language down here, you know, like when we had that orgy with those spanish body builders? Couldn't speak their language for shit but we knew what they were saying."
"Oh yeah. Good times, lot of muscle bound daddies." The guy nodded with a smirk.
"Point is he's been a fuckin riot. Fought a mob, took out VOX of all people, and even managed to work for guys who kill the living." Cherri cackled as she shoved a bomb in some fucker's throat. "Dude's a crazy maniac and it's awesome."
"Wait, wait wait, hold your tities, party pants." Angie paused as he shot a demon in the dick. "Oooh low blow, waste of a good dick … anyway, what the fuck!?" Her bestie shrieked. "You're telling me there's a kid out there that fucked with one of the V's and HAS'T gotten their ass filled with holy bullets yet?"
"Yeah. Fuckin nuts!" She grinned. "It's pretty much the Truman Show, but with the batshit insanity of hell added to the mix."
"Never saw that actually." He admitted as he was grabbed. "After my time." Angel smooched the guy on the face, before shooting out his intestines.
"Oh, kind of my only frame of reference for that.." How would she get Angie to understand? "It's like that one movie you filmed about the guy aware he was in a porno."
"Ah, Fuckality. That was a weird one. Somehow even weirder than Sexception. And that involved layers of dreams, fucking one hole that led to another hole that let do more holes to be fucked."
"As if there's any holes are their that you haven't fucked beyound repairt already." Cherrie grinned. "Just saying, if a freaking kid can get one up on Vox of all people, than that mean's those ratty vagg nightmares ain't gonna stay in power forever." She could tear apart everything they own… and get Angie out of his contract.
His smirk stiffened. "Cherrie, look, I appreciate it." Great, here we go again. The 'big brother must protect you' speech. "But don't think about fucking with Val. It's fine, I'm a big boy, I can handle a little fucking."
This was what sucked about having a friend. Knowing there was a problem but never being able to help with said problem. "Dude, seriously, a little rebellion never hurt-"
"It does." He punctuated that by shooting a guy's skull repeatedly. "It hurts a lot. Just let it go alright?" And now he was slipping back into his stripper routine. "You know a boy like me can slip out of a rough pounding."
"... Alright." She's tried for years to get the guy out. Cherrie was there on those silent nights where the guy couldn't even speak due to the pain. She was never good with being emotional support, due to the fact the best thing she was good at was fucking everything up for everyone else. "But we're still on for snorting pcp on some aussie abs later, right?" So the best thing she could do… get Angie to chill the f out with drugs and alcohol.
"Cherrie … Cherrie … do you even need to ask such a dumb question?" He smirked.
"Hell naw!" She couldn't just force Angie to step out and sock Val in the face or anything. But he wasn't completely powerless either. If a freaking kid could get one over the V's, than Angie could too one day. A little bloke with the guts to humiliate an overlord on live tv… sounded like a little firecracker that could blow the status quo wide open…. And then.. Then maybe Cherrie could make Hell a more fun place for sinners like her and Angie.
Veroskia groaned in annoyance. She was never one for radio, preferring to just watch tv when she was bored … until her dumbass ex showed up on 'Wheel of Mayhem', and suddenly, she got interested. She hadn't seen the asswhipe since their breakup, when he maxxed out her credit cards on horseshit and she got sent to rehab. Why the fuck was their even rehab in hell? What the fuck was Belphagor's deal? Just make drugs and get rich like the Mammon fucker … actually scratch that, no one should ever be like Mammon. Maybe… maybe just be like asmodeous and sell sexbots of his number one lay? Being rich and kinky, oh wasn't that the succubus dream … aside from a genuine relationship that was.
As frisky as her people could be, that didn't mean they didn't desire intimacy after sex. When sex was basic as food or water, it was just that, basic. A commodity. It caused everything that didn't involve raw fucking to become so much more. To mother and daughter, to a crew of friends … to genuine romance.
Of course, given that their entire race basically hinged on never being hooked on one person, that last thing was so rare that it hinged on myth status. Her groupies and entourage were able to find that within each other, like Kiki and Apple did, but those were mainly exceptions and not the rule. After all, if both partners were succubi, both understood what being in an open relationship was.
That was something she THOUGHT she had an understanding with Blitzo. Sex was secondary when it came to the relationship. Both of them fucked with other people as long as they went back to each other by the end of the day. They talked, chatted, had fun …
But that selfish fucker never really cared in the end, did he? Nope, he was nothing but a self destructive, self indulgent, self centered wreck. But life seemed to love him all the same, given what was happening.
"Are we flawless or what?" The dick asked.
"You imps are by no doubt, the most incompetent and most untrustworthy gaggle of misfits I have ever seen." The overlord shouted… a FUCKING overlord of all people
"Hey now-"
"Which means you're PERFECT for the job of breaking this boy's spirit to dust! Ladies and gentlimps, you have your, as you so rudely put it, free advertising."
"..now you mean lean sonuva a gun, you have an eye for talent!" Blitz diverted. "I've learned from my dad how to be a shitty role model, best of worst."
Of course her ex was getting free advertising, why the hell not? Free advertising from a freaking overlord like the radio demon of all fucking sinners. Blitzo just loves to take it all and leave nothing behind.
Just like how he left her behind to take all the blame for when he fucked up. VEROSIKA was the unreasonable one… SHE was the skank that didn't commit, SHE was the one that needed to sober up while he abandoned her, like he did with his own freaking sister. The one good thing about rehab was talking to someone that hated Blitzo just as much as she did.
"Hey Verosika!" She turned to see Ace by the door. "You gonna keep drinking? Cause we got a horny crowd ready to burst for ya!"
"Yah, just a minute." She took a swing, walking out and glancing at her hellhound guard. "Hey Tex. Try and get us a gig in imp city around spring break. I wanna fuck over my ex. And not in the sexy way."
"Whatever you say boss." Her hellhound bodyguard nodded. He was WAY more professional than Bltiz. Twice as muscular, twice as smart, and new to never ask personal questions. If the hellhound wasn't so committed to his own girlfriend, Verosokia would've ridden that doggy dick three ways to sunday and then some.
"Now then …" She smirked, grabbing the mic. "Time to fuck some bitches!" And the crowd cheered.
Vaggie looked over the abandoned hotel with Charlie. "Well … it's a bit of a … fixer upper!" The princess shouted. "Yeah, fixer upper! That's the word!"
"… It is." Vaggie noted, looking at the multiple holes within the moldy walls. "And your family used to stay here?" She was still catching up on all the ins and outs of hell, but she'd like to think she's gained enough knowledge to not stick out like a sore thumb amongst the vile and detestable sinners..
No, no, no more thinking like that. You weren't an exorcist anymore. You were a normal, no good demon. That's what Charlie believed, and that's what you needed to be. A sinner who believes in her. A sinner who's soul was saved by the kindest being to ever exist anywhere, whether it be heaven or hell. A soul by all right SHOULD be in heaven for her radiant smile alone.
"Yep. A vacation spot to visit the city when you needed to get far away from the center of pride." Charlie chuckled. "Haven't been here in a while … with mom gone and everything. But, I know that with some care, paint, and elbow grease, it'll be fantastical!" She grinned as she ran through the the doors, where the rundown paint and wall paper were easily spotted. "Just think of it, Vaggie! At the Happy Hotel, Sinner's will be free to stay here however long they wish. They'll talk about their problems, make life long friendships, and when they check out, they'll be checking out of hell itself and into HEAVEN!"
"That sounds … amazing." Even if she didn't believe in the dream, this girl had such a strong love for the souls down here … even if they didn't deserve it. "And.. you think we can make it work?"
"There's nothing nobody has said that it isn't~!" Unless you count the countless angels Vaggie's heard about the black and white rules of the world. "We just need a couple of patron's to try it out and give it a go! I'm in the middle of setting up a personal interview with Katie Killjoy about spreading the word."
"You mean the Mantis bitch that never has anything nice to say about anybody, no matter how low or high they are on the societal pole?" Vaggie had to question. She's done a lot of new watching to catch up on hell news… and the news caster seemed to be more inclined to burn their chances rather than help them at all.
"And I'm sure she'll be really nice to talk to, and the camera is just an act!" … How was it fair this girl was born in hell? "Besides, if tv doesn't work, I've made these wonderfully detailed flyers to entice more sinners!"
"… These are.." They were crudely sketched out stick figures with what looked like rainbow crayon barf splattered all over the paper. "Very imaginative and bright hun." She face the best smile and thumbs up she could muster.
"Thank you." Her girlfriend smiled, planting a smooch on her cheek. "Oh this is going to be wonderful! I can see all the smiles now!" More like screams. "Do you wanna do a musical number?"
"Um … not today. I don't have the energy after listening to that broadcast." … Of the human trapped in hell.
A living soul in hell … heaven wasn't that heartless, right? Vaggie heard the cries of the angel, and Vaggie would know what a real crying angel would sound like. "There was a broadcast?" Charlie asked. "From where?"
"Not important." Although if Charlie was going to go through with this idea, maybe being aware of demons like the radio demon lurking around would be a good idea…. No, the demon was just someone that would bring down Charlie's mood, the last thing Vaggie wanted. Knowing there was a human in hell would make her just depressed
And Vaggie wasn't for sure if what was on the radio was true. It was different from Alastor's usual reported screams on the radio, so for all she knew, it was just an elaborate radio serial the creep was playing… one that involved a real angel that felt like a failure …
If there was a truly remorseful angel out there wanting to fix such a big fuck up.. then maybe.. maybe Charlie's ideas for redemption wasn't too out there.