As the sounds of snipping and crinkling paper filled the air, Alastor did a quick walk around the room, inspecting the work of others. He abandoned his own, soon after pasting a single image of a deer in the center of red paper. It pained him just doing that much, not one for examining his past. If the demoness required more of him, she was too busy jumping around bothering everyone else to notice.

Hell's bells how he wished he could run amuck through town and rip apart his enemies instead of this drip. Where was Mimzy when he needed her? Maybe she could bring some poor souls whose presence wouldn't be missed… but he shook his mind of the thought. Using his powers was still an inordinate risk to himself and potentially the hotel. Not to mention, he was trying to "be redeemed" and killing a bunch of imbeciles who got in his way would probably not look good to whoever was watching.

He'd have to settle for some good old fashioned terrorizing of the mental kind.

He stood behind Vaggie who was trying her damndest to ignore the insufferable demon. He hummed a little ditty and swung his cane, playing the odd bit of music now and then. Her eye twitched as she pasted pieces of what looked like to be an amalgamation of herself.

"Hmmm, missing some wings there, dear," Alastor commented, leaning over her shoulder.

A vein popped in Vaggie's forehead as she tried to keep her cool. She was doing this for Charlie, she reminded herself. She took a deep breath and then exhaled.

"Thanks for your input," she ground out, angling away from his view.

"Anytime! Though I'm not much for visuals, unfortunately, maybe you can ask the Vees for some help?" he prodded.

The pencil in her hand snapped in half. She knew he knew and he was making damn sure that she knew that he knew. What he was going to do about it besides torture her, she still didn't know.

"Look, Alast–" she whipped around to confront him but he had already moved on, wandering back around the room to stand over Husk. That just pissed her off even more. She turned back to her collage and glared at it. It was still just her, in the middle of all this white paper, where she stood, alone.

…

Husk was sprawled on the floor, knocking back some booze, which he spilled unceremoniously all over his paper. All that was there so far was a single playing card, the Joker.

"Very symbolic, Husker chum!" the deer demon hummed.

"Fuck off, will you? Don't you have your own poster to work on? –Hey Charlie!" Husk was playing dirty today, it seemed. Alastor's eyes narrowed.

Charlie tip-toed over the mounds of paper at his call and looked over his poster. "Very symbolic, Husk! I love it!" she exclaimed.

Husk rolled his eyes before throwing a thumb back at the Radio Demon. "Smiley here isn't working on his poster," Husk tattled.

"Now chum! Nobody likes a snitch!" His red eyes switched to round dials. "They tend to get stitches," his voice layered with static.

"Come on Al! Everyone else is doing it. Just look at Angel's! His is- WOAH!" Charlie immediately pounced onto Angel's poster, snatching it from his hands.

"Hey!" the spider demon complained. "I was almost done with that!"

"Where did you get those magazines? I definitely did not put those out!"

"Oh these? They're from my private collection. You're welcome," he purred, indicating his pile of old-school porno mags.

"Very… resourceful, Angel!" Charlie tried to compliment, scanning the room to make sure no one else was using them.

"Thanks, dollface." He rolled over back onto his front, kicking his legs. He seemed to be enjoying himself now, which was more than what Charlie often hoped for, so she let him be.

She turned her attention back to Alastor and grinned maniacally. She rounded on him and he pretended not to notice her. When he said he wanted mental terrorizing, he didn't think he'd be on the receiving end.

"Let me see what you have so far!" she pestered until he finally looked at her.

He snapped his fingers and his paper appeared, red and practically blank. He handed it over without a second glance and turned away. Alastor fiddled with his radio as he waited for her sighs of frustration.

She clutched the poster in front of her, red eyes roaming over the similarly colored paper. She looked intrigued, shocked, and sad all at once. Her eyes began to tear up and Alastor looked at her in confusion. He was about to mock her misplaced sincerity when she flipped it back around on him.

Alastor's own eyes threatened to pop out of his skull. His poster was filled, an energy of emotion flowing off of it. Images that looked like the country-side, a radio-tower, dogs, blood, an older woman, home-cooked meals, candle-light, booze, jazz instruments, grave sites, forests, images of war, and a very reminiscent pulsing blackness at the edges.

"I didn't do this," he murmured to himself, not believing what he was seeing. It was as if images from his life had been ripped out of his chest and placed onto the page.

The Mark did this, he thought. It was the only explanation that made sense. It was tapping into him, into his heart, his subconscious, and casting magic as if he had done it himself.

He took the paper and burned it to a crisp in a wisp of green fire before anyone else could see. Charlie yelled out to stop him but it was too late.

"It was so beautiful, Al… I wanted to see more," the hotelier whined, more disappointed than ever. "I don't know anything about you or your past."

"And you never will!" he snapped back, feeling far too exposed. He turned away from her, arms crossed, as if that would tame the pounding of his heart. It was unrelenting, as if it wanted to reach out its magnetic tendrils and grab onto whatever was near, or whomever…

He looked back at Charlie, after hearing no immediate reply, and saw that she was gone. She was walking away, a dejected droop to her shoulders, and an apparent frown upon her black lips. It was the saddest he'd ever seen her, despite catching her crying too many times to count. She busied herself with another one of the hotel guests.

This, of course, did nothing to tame the feeling in his chest. In fact, its movements only became worse. A toxic spiral in his gut began to twist and Alastor felt sick. He grabbed onto the nearest bit of furniture to keep from doubling, his claws splintering wood.

Of course he couldn't share about his life, his past life especially. That part of him was dead. Dead before he was even thrust into Hell. The Princess needn't know that side of him, know his ties to some mortal plane. None of it mattered now, and it shouldn't matter to some Hellborn do-gooder. He's spent years forgetting it all, digging it all up again would only lead to trouble.

This stupid collage-a-thon or whatever the Hell she called it would be the death of him.

…

Once everyone was mostly finished, it was show-and-tell time. Charlie had lost a bit of her spark as she corralled presenters up to the front. Some had been less willing than others, some understanding the project and its purpose a bit more.

Shawshank the pachyderm went first, eager to present his own. It was simple, straight forward. He described his life of crime embezzling funds but also described how he often spent his days at the park, playing chess, or enjoying a novel, like he was on some matchmaking website. He talked about his wife in more muted tones.

Tai and Ama's were a bit more nonsensical. A collection of images with little connection to their lives, past or otherwise. Tai's was mostly musical notes and lyrics, as if he composed something instead of the assigned project. Interspersed between the notes were images that looked like flesh-colored mush. He did not elaborate on that.

Ama's was a bunch of straight lines and doodles. She used to be a master thief but in her old age, she liked to sew and map out the architecture of buildings. She discussed an old partner of hers that betrayed her once… and then never again.

Everyone knew about Pete's past by now so it was a bit redundant to have him present his poster as a Lacrosse player turned chemist. Charlie clapped for him all the same, happy that the guests were introspective enough to know why they were in Hell.

Lastly, it was Sylvie's turn. The quiet jokester that made comments under her breath. She was still a bit of an enigma to the rest of the group. She looked like someone who could be loud and prideful, her bright feathered hair a stark contrast to her demeanor, but all they had gotten from her so far was a sort of angry coolness, like she deigned to be there. And yet, she had participated in every activity so far without any resistance.

She held her poster up. There was a picture of what looked like an old fashioned car, a street lamp, a moon, a door, some playground swings, and trees.

"I used to work in a factory. It was tough, long hours standing on my feet. I'd come home bone tired, barely able to keep my eyes open. I was this close to quitting' but I needed to put food on the table for my family, so I took on as many shifts as I could. I covered for others, and worked overtime. I wanted to save up enough so we could move away, somewhere green. One night I was so tired, I thought I wasn't going to make it home so I pulled over to nap in my car. I thought I did everything right, right?

"But my baby girl called me up, said she couldn't sleep. That she was scared of pa and needed me to come home. So being a good mom, I raced home, but I must've fallen asleep because when I woke up, I was crashed into a fence."

She paused then to collect herself. Everyone was listening with baited breath, not expecting such a serious admission from the newly admitted guest.

"I hit some kid out late, walking his dog. They said it was an accident but I couldn't stand the thought of being away from my kid so I had a melt down and got into a fight that cost me my life. Every day I've been here I feel angry. That the mistake I made could land me in Hell. That my life was uprooted in a single night. I thought I'd feel guilty for killing someone, or maybe I'd beg for forgiveness from the family whose life I ruined. But all I've felt since day one was I want to see my kid again. I want to be free."

Charlie was in shambles. She sobbed into the floor once Sylvie had finished and quiet applause rang out from the crowd. Most were a bit speechless with how serious she had been and Charlie especially couldn't believe the types of sinners she was dealing with. The lives they had, the goals they dreamed of. The pressure of redeeming someone who wanted something so badly for such heavy reasons suddenly weighed on her head. And for the first time in a while, Charlie felt overwhelmed, and the doubt began to creep in. Could she save these people? Turn their lives around? Make them see? If anything, they might be the ones making her see. The complexity of people, humans especially, was beyond her scope and knowledge.

Charlie was in over her head and wracked with emotion. Heartbroken at Sylvie's tale but also couldn't believe that these sinners trusted her to redeem them into Heaven. It was uplifting but also terrifying. The weight of her challenge had never been more apparent and it was only Day 1!

…

The activity ended, more somber than expected, and the guests and staff wandered off to their respective haunts for the rest of the day.

Charlie stayed behind to clean up with Vaggie's assistance, slowly and silently picking up the pieces of their morning. Alastor had offered to magic the mess away but Charlie just shook her head and resumed her work. She wanted to feel connected to something right now. Grounded.

Alastor accepted without menace, knowing that he had upset the poor dear, but he could also see how the activity had gotten to her. He didn't fully understand her mindset but he had enough sense to leave well enough alone. He'd get his time with the demoness, sooner or later. He didn't want to leave her side but with Vaggie glaring daggers at him and Charlie giving him the cold shoulder, the deer demon opted to just make himself scarce.

…

"What's wrong, hon?" Vaggie asked after Alastor had vanished. "You were so cheerful earlier."

"Nothings wrong," Charlie sighed. "It was just a lot to take in today. I really have my work cut out for me!"

Vaggie smiled sadly. "You knew this from the beginning. It'll be tough but remember what you said… we have to keep moving forward."

The demoness nodded, familiar with her own words of perseverance. She was feeling so caught up in things, the whirlwind of the morning's activity wasn't all that was on her mind and she didn't feel like hiding it away this time.

"That's not all," Charlie began to confess, too exhausted to withhold her feelings. "Alastor–"

"Did that maniac say something?" Vaggie's expression changed, her temperament switching in a heartbeat.

"He did but it's not what you're thinking–"

"I'll rip his guts out," said Vaggie, somehow brandishing her spear out of nowhere. She was already stalking up the stairs, before Charlie had a chance to finish.

"Vaggie!" she called. "Stop! I didn't even say anything!"

Vaggie's foot froze on the staircase, reeling herself back in.

She returned to Charlie, apologetic. She was still on edge after the Vox confrontation, wondering still if the Radio Demon would use it against her to drive her and Charlie apart. She could never be too sure when it came to the deer.

"I'm sorry," Vaggie began but Charlie shook her head.

"Forget it," the demoness sighed. "It's not that important." She smiled. "Thank you for your help today, Vaggie."

The gray angel hesitated, debating pressing the issue. "Of course, hon. Did you still want to talk about what happened?"

"No, it's okay, I have a lot of work to catch up on!" Charlie beamed, mustering up some cheer. They both could tell it was forced.

The pair parted ways, Vaggie feeling especially like a heel.

…

Charlie entered her office, shutting the door with a loud exhale. What a first day! What she thought was an easy-going starter activity turned into a bit of a wake-up-call for the blonde hotelier. Can she teach remorse? Can redemption happen for all? What lands someone in Hell anyway!?

There were a million unknowns and all her time researching still brought up more questions than answers. She had to stick to her guns, as she had always ended up telling herself, and bang her drum onward.

But it was so hard to do alone. She thought Alastor trusted her but was shown otherwise during the poster incident. It was his life to share, she understood, but the rejection in which she felt after he turned her down permeated her whole being. She wanted to know everything she could about him. Maybe knowing more would help them figure out this whole Mark fiasco.

He was already trusting her with the knowledge of it, the taking of notes. But she wanted to know him. The way that he knew her.

That was just the problem! They were business partners, and business partners didn't need to share such things. Her mind argued back, they were friends that trusted each other! No, another side of her disagreed, they were more than that.

What's more than friends? She wondered idly. Surely there are other words to describe just that.

"Ugh," she slammed her head on her desk. Why was she thinking about these things at all? No wonder Vaggie hated him, she spent far too long thinking about Alastor than she really ought to and her girlfriend was rightfully upset. Maybe they should forgo work for the day and go out on the town?

Surely Vaggie would enjoy that and she could get her mind off of things, namely people.

…

Alastor was in his bedroom when a puff-like ball of blackness walked on eight legs into his room.

'A missive from Zestial,' he thought, curious. He picked it up and it disintegrated into smoke, leaving behind a stamped note with a time and place to meet.

'I could use some good news,' Alastor mused, knowing that that's probably not what was coming.

…

It was almost time for their meeting and Alastor gathered up his cane and made his way down the hall. He took some pleasure in walking, cutting back on teleporting to enjoy the stillness of the hallways. His thoughts still managed to get tangled up against his will but he just brute-forced any unwelcome thinking away.

At the landing leading to the lobby, He crossed paths with Charlie and Vaggie, arm in arm, dressed to the nines. They were both wearing dresses, covered by a thick coat to protect against Hell's latest chill. It was a sight he was not accustomed to seeing. He kept his gaze at eye-level.

The two groups paused, facing each other. "Going out?" he asked, his voice low.

Charlie replied, surprised, not expecting the question. "Yes, we thought we'd take a break from work and enjoy a night on the town."

"We could all use a break after today," Vaggie added, her tone curt.

Alastor tilted his head, studying them both for a moment. "Well, I hope you have a delightful evening," he said, his smile slipping slightly. Seems like Charlie would be skipping their little evening ritual.

Charlie noticed the shift in his demeanor and couldn't help blurt out, "Is everything alright, Al?"

Alastor quickly masked his emotions with a charming grin. "Of course, my dear. Just a touch of nostalgia for the days when I used to roam the city nightlife," he replied smoothly, his voice light of static.

"Oh," Charlie said, reminded once more of all she didn't know about the deer demon. "Are you headed somewhere?"

Vaggie tightened her grip, silently signaling that they should be on their way.

"Indeed I am, I have a meeting to attend," he replied vaguely.

Charlie nodded, a hint of disappointment playing across her features. Of course he wouldn't divulge where he was actually going. It was none of her concern.

Vaggie tugged on her girlfriend's arm and they made their way down the stairs. It taking nearly all of Vaggie's strength just to pull her away from the Radio Demon.

He watched them go, an odd mix of emotions rolling in his gut, before making his way down as well. At some point today he had lost the plot of his connection with Charlie and it would be a struggle to correct it. He knew what she wanted, that was clear, but it wasn't something he could so easily give. What was she doing wanting it anyway?

Angel whistled and hollered at the pair as they crossed by the bar, shouting something enthusiastically dirty. Charlie blushed and Vaggie looked annoyed. But they all laughed it away, even Husk joining in on the camaraderie.

Yes, this was the way it was, Alastor mused. Yesterday's feel-good shenanigans were already in the past. And Alastor was off to learn even more about the thing that was slowly killing him.

Once the couple was safely out the front door, the deer demon followed suit, pushing aside any treacherous feelings for now. Whatever Zestial had to tell him would surely require his full attention.

As he made his way through Angel's line of sight, predictably, the spider demon shouted out an unnecessary comment. "Thought I'd see you on her arm, Smiles!"

"Wrong as ever, my effeminate fellow!" Alastor shouted back, his face unreadable. His steps faltered as he walked, his smile turning into more of a grimace. He hated his life on display in such a way, one that made him the butt of some unfunny joke. Even Angel Dust the porn star had more grace.

"Hey, I'd be jealous too if I were you," Angel said, quietly, sipping on some unknown drink. He was feeling powerful tonight, and what's worse, his eyes were filled with pity. Husk attempted to shush him.

Alastor paused in his steps, his face tightening at the insinuation. His neck cracked in the spider demon's direction and for a split second Angel appeared regretful.

But the Radio Demon did nothing more than scoff, his voice measured. He'd let him off easy this time, considering the porn demon's current predicament. "Jealousy is a wasted emotion," he said, turning on his heel and out the front door.

While it is a wasted emotion, Alastor couldn't deny its very existence. But that was an issue beyond mentioning.

…

Charlie and Vaggie were seated at a restaurant, half way through their meal.

Charlie's mind was a rollercoaster, going back and forth over her last conversation with Alastor, wondering why it had to be so awkward. She hated when the two of them weren't on good terms, it didn't feel right that way.

She briefly felt bad for him seeing her and Vaggie leaving together, like she was rubbing something in his face. But it's not like he'd care, he had his own plans! Probably going to see Rosie again…

Charlie shut her eyes tight, trying to banish the weird feeling of insecurity whenever it came to the Overlord. She was so strong, smart, beautiful. She ran a whole town! Not to mention she was close to Alastor and probably knew a ton about him and his life. They probably have seen a lot of each other too…

"-lie, Charlie?" Vaggie waved her hand in her companion's face, jerking Charlie out of her daze.

"Huh?"

"Where'd you go, hon?" asked Vaggie, smirking a little.

"Sorry, I zoned out, still thinking about the activity today…" she fibbed.

"I thought it was a great start, the sinners we got are really taking it seriously. Well, most of them…"

Charlie nodded, happy to be reminded of her small success. "We need to keep recruiting! I was thinking of mailing invitations out to the ones we originally rejected…"

"Is that a good idea?"

"Maybe? But we neeeed bodies! Did you think up some new outreach methods?" Charlie's eyes gleamed.

Vaggie gulped, remembering her decision to speak to Vox that day instead. She didn't actually work on outreach beyond that.

"Erm…" Vaggie shuffled in her seat, looking around for an excuse. But one found her instead.

"Does my screen deceive me? If it isn't the lovely Princess of Hell and her paramour!"

Vox sauntered up to their table, his eyes wide with mock surprise, as if he didn't have cameras on the entire city.

"We're having a private dinner," said Vaggie, her tone filled to the brim with venom. She brandished her fork as a weapon. He was the last person she wanted to see, especially after their last encounter. And especially not when she was with Charlie. It would not go over well with her if she knew what they had discussed pertaining to the deer demon.

"Woah, stow the hostilities! I thought I'd come over to iron out the details of our little… deal," he warbled, his TV face flickering over the two of them.

"Deal?" questioned Charlie, utterly confused. She looked back and forth between the TV and her girlfriend.

Vaggie's grip on the table tightened, warning Vox with a dark glare.

Vox merely laughed, his smile glitching. "Not like that, princess, no! To help your Hazbin Hotel! Vags here wanted to broadcast your little enterprise all over my channels and I am ready, willing, and able."

"Really?" Charlie asked, disbelieving. She looked back at Vaggie, whose expression was pinched with anxiety. Vox doesn't do anything for free.

Charlie didn't interact with Vox much. She knew him as one of the Vees but her knowledge of him was minimal. She did know that his reach was far and it was his own news station that she first advertised for the hotel. It was that same news segment that brought the Radio Demon to their doorstep in the first place…

"Yes, really! All I ask is for a teeny tiny favor in return…"

"What do you want?" Charlie asked.

...

AN: I was pretty juiced after that last chapter lol. Hope you enjoy this one! And don't forget to comment! Curious to hear more thoughts!