A/N: This is my first time writing for the Hazbin Hotel fandom. Had this idea pop into my head while writing my other Stanley Parable crossover and figured I'd share. Keep in mind this is just my first draft of the concept, so I'm not certain that I'll continue it unless the demand is there, so let your voices be heard. And if you like this, perhaps you'll enjoy my other works as well.

Enjoy!

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Pilot

The Hazbin Hotel's residents had been growing increasingly restless, their days a monotonous loop of sinful indulgences and eternal torment. To shake things up, Charlie and Vaggie decided to venture out into the bustling downtown area. As they navigated the gore-splattered streets, each cobblestone a testament to the city's dark history, they stumbled upon a quaint little shop tucked away in a shadowy alley.

Through the grimy window, they caught a glimpse of an eclectic assortment of trinkets and curiosities. "Let's go inside!" Charlie gleefully suggested, her eyes sparkling with childlike wonder.

Vaggie, ever the pragmatist, shrugged. "I guess it couldn't hurt to look around a bit."

They stepped inside, the air thick with the scent of incense and old books. A wizened old man with a long, flowing beard sat behind the counter, his eyes glued to a newspaper. He didn't acknowledge their presence as they wandered through the shop, their footsteps echoing on the worn wooden floor.

Charlie's gaze was drawn to a dusty old box, adorned with intricate carvings and a single word: "Ouija."

"Did you find something, Charlie?" Vaggie asked, her voice barely audible over the soft clinking of trinkets.

"Sure did," Charlie replied, picking up the box and blowing the dust off. She presented it to her girlfriend, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Have a look!"

"A Ouija board?" Vaggie looked down at the object, her expression a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "You know these things are dangerous, right?"

"Think about it, Vaggie," Charlie said, her voice filled with excitement. "We can make contact with a whole host of spirits we couldn't otherwise interact with. We could rehabilitate them and send them to heaven!"

"I'm more concerned with poltergeists," Vaggie replied, her tone flat.

"If we do encounter one, we can deal with it," Charlie insisted.

"Deals with poltergeists? I'm still not sure..."

"Come on, please..." Charlie begged, her eyes wide and hopeful. Puppy-dog-like.

Vaggie sighed, finally relenting. "Okay, if you want it that badly."

The shop's windchimes crinkled as Charlie and Vaggie left with the Ouija board tucked under the former's arm. As they walked back to the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie couldn't contain her excitement. "I can't wait to try this out!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with anticipation.

Vaggie, while still apprehensive, was intrigued by the prospect of contacting the spirit world. She had heard stories of Ouija boards being used for both good and evil, and she was curious to see what would happen.

When they arrived back at the hotel, they gathered a group of residents in the lobby. Charlie set up the Ouija board on a small table, placing her hands on the planchette. Vaggie joined her, and the rest of the residents watched with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.

"Alright, let's do this," Charlie said, her voice filled with excitement. She closed her eyes and concentrated.

The planchette began to move, gliding across the board. The residents watched in awe as it spelled out the letters 'H-E-L-L-O.'

"Hello?" Charlie asked, her voice trembling slightly.

The planchette continued to move, spelling out 'S-T-A-N-L-E-Y'

"Stanley?" Angel Dust commented. "Is that the spirit's name?"

It spelled out the word again, this time adding 'A-R-E' 'Y-O-U' 'T-H-E-R-E'?

"You know anyone named Sssstanley?" Sir Pentious hissed, glancing down at his egg bois.

"Nuh uh, not me boss." One of them said.

"Me either." Said another one.

"Would you like us to help you find this 'Stanley'?" Charlie asked as she waited for a response.

The spirit began to spell out their reply 'Y-E-"

That was until Cherry Bomb made her grand entrance, blowing up the wall with one of her signature explosives. Startled, Charlie gasped and momentarily let go of the planchette, which then rolled off the table and onto the floor.

A blinding flash later and the Hazbin Hotel was plunged into chaos. The explosion had sent shockwaves through the lobby, knocking over furniture and shattering windows. Dust and debris filled the air, and the residents scrambled to avoid falling objects.

In the midst of the confusion, Charlie realized what had happened. The planchette had been knocked loose, and the spirit trapped within the Ouija board had been released. She looked around frantically, searching for any sign of the entity.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" she scrambled, tripping over herself along with the rest of the hotel's inhabitants.

"I warned you about this, Charlie!" Vaggie scolded her.

"Sorry about that." Cherry Bomb said, strutting inside. "Saw a spider. So, what'cha all doin'?"

Not long after the residents gathered their barrings, an unfamiliar voice was heard addressing them.

"Stanley! Stop pressing the button! Please! It's been eons!"

The voice was that of a sophisticated British man. Specifically a voice. No physical entity was present, yet still the voice lingered.

"Did anyone else hear that?" Angel Dust asked, still reeling from being partially blinded by the light.

"Yeah I can definitely hear it." Husker commented.

Their omniscient guest's PTSD episode soon faded to a draught of confusion. "Wait…you're not Stanley. In fact, this place isn't where the skip button was at all. And Stanley's gone! Oh no, you didn't kill him did you?"

Everybody glanced around the vicinity, looking equally bewildered and spooked by the mysterious presence.

Finally, Charlie spoke up. She always had a big heart and an innate need to help others. Whatever this entity was, trapped or lost, they had a story. All spirits did.

"Stanley's...not here?" Charlie pondered. She knew from personal experience most spirits were bound to one place. "Where were you before you suddenly appeared here?"

"YOU CAN SPEAK?!" shrieked their unexpected guest, or in this case an unexpected 'ghost'. "Now I know I'm no longer in the Stanley Parable! I'm the only one who was given a voice for it! Not even Stanley himself has a single line of dialogue and he's the main character! What the hell is going on?! Have I been kidnapped?! Bring me back to Stanley at once!"

Everything about this was unnerving. Vaggie even drew out her spear in case they needed it.

"Whoa, hey!" Charlie yelped, motioning for Vaggie to stand down. She glanced at the others, then addressed their visitor. At least this gave the mystery voice a chance to recover from his fit. They still had no idea where it came from. Or who it was for that matter.

"A-Are you alright? Do you need anything?" she offered. "I'm very sorry about the explosion...my employee's late for her duties."

Sir Pentious got the cue and slithered off to deal with Cherry Bomb accordingly.

Meanwhile, their unseen guest seemed to have composed themself.

They came out with a curt: "So. Where the bloody hell am I?" He asked Charlie specifically. "Judging by your clown makeup I assume the Juggalos were right?"

"Hell." said Husker.

"Technically, Hell ain't one place specifically." Cherri snorted. "But yeah, a bunch of demons live here, where you're standing right now."

Angel Dust added in agreement: "Yeah, trust us, one look at all the red in the sky and you'll know we're in the underworld!"

"Demons? Wait, THE Hell!?" their voice panicked and in denial. "No, no, no! I'm dreaming again! Tell me this is a dream!"

"I could give you a slap if it would help?" Cherri suggested, cracking her knuckles.

"That would probably help if we knew where the fuck his voice was coming from."

Alastor finally spoke up after listening in for the longest amount of time: "The question is how did we find ourselves in this predicament? Who or what are you exactly?"

With that, the voice spoke:

"I'm simply a narrator for the Stanley Parable. Quite clearly I'm an offshoot of a fictional game. And now I'm in hell. I don't even know if I'm alive or dead. I should have never listened to those critics and made that damn skip button ending."

"A narrator you say? I should add that makes two of us. Allow me to formally introduce myself, my name is Alastor, Radio Demon."

"Is that your…actual voice?"

"I'd never leave home without it."

The narrator's confusion lingered in the air like a thick fog. "A fellow narrator, you say? This is rather unprecedented," he remarked, the initial shock giving way to curiosity. "Tell me, Alastor, is this place truly hell? Or is it merely another one of those surreal environments akin to the Parable?"

Twirling his cane and tapping its base on the floor, Alastor chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement. "Oh, it's hell, alright. We pride ourselves on being a bit... unconventional."

"Unconventional is an understatement," Vaggie muttered under her breath, still clutching her spear defensively.

"Well, this is quite the predicament," the narrator mused, his tone shifting to one of contemplation. "But since I'm here, I might as well make the most of it. After all, every story needs a good twist, doesn't it?"

Charlie, ever the optimist, saw an opportunity. "If you're really a narrator, maybe you could help us! You see, we're trying to rehabilitate the demons here so they can eventually get into heaven. It's a long shot, but maybe your storytelling skills could come in handy?"

The narrator paused, as if considering the offer. "Rehabilitate demons? How positively absurd! But then again, so is everything about this place." He let out a sigh. "Very well, I'll assist you—if only because I have no other choice. But be warned, my dear, I won't be holding back. My narration has a tendency to... complicate things."

Alastor's grin widened, clearly enjoying the prospect. "This should be interesting."

Angel Dust leaned in, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "So, what happens now? Are you gonna narrate all our lives or something?"

"Oh, I do hope so," the narrator responded, his tone oozing with playful menace. "Imagine the chaos, the drama, the... unpredictability!"

Before anyone could respond, the lights in the lobby flickered ominously. The residents exchanged uneasy glances, sensing that things were about to get even more bizarre than usual.

Charlie, ever the diplomat, tried to keep the situation under control. "Alright, let's not panic. Mr. Narrator, we'll figure out a way to work together. But first, we need to understand how you got here in the first place. Was it something to do with the Ouija board?"

The narrator's voice softened slightly. "It would seem so. That infernal board must have created some sort of rift. And now, here I am—trapped in your twisted little reality."

Charlie nodded, determined to make the best of the situation. "Then we'll start by figuring out how to close that rift and send you back. In the meantime, you can help us with our rehabilitation efforts."

The narrator chuckled darkly. "Oh, this will be quite the tale indeed. Lead on, my dear Charlie, and let us see where this story takes us. Allow me to offer guidance."

Down the hall, two perpendicular doors opened wide.

The Narrator cleared his throat. "When Charlie and company came to a set of two open doors, they went through the door on their left…"