This was exactly the type of game that Alastor abhors. Pure confessions, deep inquiries into ones' soul. He thought the little sinners would have said things like "I have three siblings," not this 'profound' insight.
He squirmed in his seat, wondering how long he could get away with not participating before Charlie noticed.
And as always, her keen eye landed on him. She quirked up an encouraging and yet mildly threatening smile.
Angel was in the middle now, looking a little worse for wear. His usual bravado was slipping, but still he cracked a joke, unable to yet drop the mask. "I… sing in the shower."
Although it wasn't an answer that Alastor assumed Charlie was hoping for, he glanced at her waiting face, and felt in his heart of hearts that she was about to stand up anyway.
And she did. As well as Seviathan. The childhood sweethearts exchanged a knowing look and the fish demon ended up in the center this time.
He looked contrite. Far less haughty than Alastor had last seen him, and way less antagonistic. Seviathan even offered the group a fishy smile, as if grateful they were allowing him to be there and participate. He glanced often in the Radio Demon's direction, as if anticipating he might pounce on him at any moment.
All in good time, thought Alastor, behind an evil grin.
Seviathan fidgeted, clearly thinking of something good enough to say. What even was worth saying at this juncture? What could one say without it being an obvious confession of ones' flaws?
"I'm… a bit of a momma's boy," said Seviathan, utterly serious. "I hate letting her down. Actually, I hate letting both of my parents down."
Alastor nearly audibly gulped. His hand clenched against his armrest. He knew Charlie would stand, without even looking at her. He knew it in his soul. And speaking of which, Alastor knew he would stand too. Not because he 'wanted to' or because he was 'participating properly', but because he must.
…
Eyes darted in every direction the moment Alastor stood. Some looked a bit incredulous, while others, touched. The deer demon refused eye-contact with them all, especially Charlie.
She was staring at Alastor, an intense scrutinization of him. Charlie definitely had thought Alastor was going to stand, or she thought maybe she dreamed that he ought to. So when he actually did, it was like a vision come to life.
What an honest confession it was for him to make, if he wasn't just standing for no reason. But Charlie knew pieces about his family now, namely his mother, and the close-guarded love that he holds for her. Still, she was a little shocked that he'd partake at all, and she hadn't even begun begging him to participate.
Charlie was standing too, as well as a few others. Not dropping her gaze, she followed Alastor's quick movements towards an open chair in the outside circle. He was avoiding having to sit in the middle, that much was clear.
Her mind wondered briefly about that feeling right before Alastor stood, like a jolt in her skin, an odd sensation of knowing.
…
The game continued, some light-hearted confessions here, some more obscure admissions there.
"I am NOT a morning person."
"I enjoy being alone with my thoughts," said Tai, an explanation for his quietness.
"I feel bad for my Lacrosse team. We almost had our first championship win."
No one stood. Pete the Poisoner shrugged and spoke again, opting for something less specific. "Fine. I regret decisions made… in a moment of passion."
Oddly enough, Seviathan seemed to stand whenever Charlie did. And everything he said was a bit of a reach, at least in Alastor's opinion. And Angel, once he realized he wouldn't get away with making a mockery of this activity, soon was divulging his own inner turmoil. ("Sometimes I feel like I'm not enough.")
Charlie felt a warmth spread through her at the variety of statements. They were all learning so much about each other! Charlie had no idea that the hotel guests could be so forthcoming with their own emotions. Some even bordered on 'remorse' or 'guilt.' They were exactly the types of feelings well-suited for redemption.
But if Alastor wasn't fully engaging with the activity, how would they save his soul?
She was bordering on crying again.
Instinctively, she peeked through her bangs at Alastor, positive that he would have noticed her moistening eyes.
And indeed he did, his red stare already boring into her. He arched a brow and pointed towards his own face, as if to ask what's with the tears?
For a split second, she debated waving him away, but something in his expression stopped her. He wasn't teasing. He was really asking.
Her lips parted to mouth some response to him. But instead she offered him a gentle smile; A smile just for him. Charlie knew that even without words, he understood her.
…
Alastor wasn't prepared for how much a simple smile from her could affect him.
The Radio Demon pulled at his too-tight collar and readjusted his coat. It felt thick and hot on him. Especially with the annoying sensation of guilt he had for not giving his all while the rest of these detestable demons bared their souls to one another.
"Charlie? Are you okay?"
It was Seviathan. Not one to be subtle, he audibly questioned her tearful face, drawing the attention of the entire room.
Alastor rolled his eyes. But he also felt the odd flicker of emotion, even though he himself had no reason for such a feeling.
Charlie's face reddened from the sudden attention and she rubbed at her cheeks. "I'm fine!" she squeaked, "I'm just so happy with the progress everyones' made."
"Char cries all the time," began Angel, "You should just get used to it."
Seviathan's mouth gaped open and closed. Much like a fish, Alastor noticed with amusement.
But all traces of mirth drained from his features the second Seviathan stood from his seat to offer Charlie a handkerchief from his pocket. She gratefully accepted, surprise evident in her face.
Alastor felt a shiver of what could only be described as a positive sensation and it was then he knew that what he was feeling was not his own. Alastor would never, ever, feel anything but pure enmity towards that slimy eel. Least of all now when he was posturing as a gentleman towards the princess.
This 'Empathy Hole' or whatever she called it, was working far, far, too well.
…
Charlie was still questioning Seviathan's shift in behavior from how she remembered him, when she felt a sudden burst of emotion.
She swiveled her head around the room, confused as to what could have caused the impression and her eyes landed, unsurprisingly, on Alastor.
He was on the edge of his seat, his clawed hands digging divots into his trousers. Something was pressing on him. But it wasn't just anger that wrinkled his brow, but confusion. A confusion to match her own.
The game continued on, unaware of what had transpired between the two in silence.
Angel nudged Husk to stand with him after Ama said: "I hate that I've let my addiction control me."
Begrudgingly, Husk did, rubbing his neck. For someone who listened to everyone else's problems, he sure had difficulty facing his own.
He exchanged a knowing glance with the goat demon, not expecting to have something in common with the old thief.
Husk ended up in the middle this time. He cleared his throat. "I… try not to give a damn about anything, but it doesn't always work."
Again, the statement brought Charlie's gaze to the Radio Demon. She willed him to stand. She knew it applied to him. And he knew that she knew. She felt it inside, as real as if it were her own decision.
Alastor stood.
Charlie wanted to see Alastor in that middle seat. And as if he read her mind, he sat, cold as ice, his legs crossing and his expression serene.
He blinked his eyes open, took in his surroundings and spoke: "I…" He paused, drawing a hush from the crowd.
Angel scooted to the edge of his chair, while Husk snuck a drink from an unhidden flask. Pete looked around the room, not seeming to understand the significance of this moment. Niffty jumped up and down, her tiny form barely clearing the backrest.
And then there was Charlie, smiling bright, eager and waiting for her dearest companion's most heartfelt sentiment. She was practically humming with anticipation.
"I…" he repeated, earning an even more eager reaction from the group. He looked from side to side, released an exhale and then finally finished:
"I find this agonizing."
The room froze for a beat, and then Angel burst out laughing.
"Come on, Al!"
…
Settled back into their seats after a light scolding from the princess, Alastor sighed and knew he must speak, and speak truthfully. Charlie was practically in his soul now, able to sniff out what dishonesty resided there.
He briefly wondered if she could feel it too; could tell that their swapped souls have tuned them together like a radio and its station. Their frequencies occasionally aligning.
Who knew, that after months of hiding away his true feelings, that they would become so readily available. No smiling face could send her off his tail now.
He began again, a tingling sensation in his breast. Something that urged him to speak whatever was inside. "I… wonder… if I am beyond redemption," he settled on. Not said with gloom or despair, but with the stoic realism of a demon in Hell. Alastor did not question the statement that came forth, it was as accurate as anything he could have summoned up himself. What with Charlie and her constant efforts to save him, he has wondered… if there was a point at all.
Several guests stood. And Charlie eyed them sadly, her head whipping around the room. Even those she was sure were steps from redemption sat up from their seats, those like Shawshank.
The demon princess opened her mouth as if to speak up, but a glance from Alastor stopped her. This was the reality of sinners. And she should understand by now, that some deserve to be there, and others believed there was simply nowhere else for them.
Niffty took the middle seat now, scrambling up to the top.
"I miss being alive."
…
Charlie dragged her legs up to her room, weighed once more by the extent of her goal, and the actuality of this place she called home. Nothing was as simple as she wanted it to be. Nothing was as fun and light-hearted and beautiful as she wished it was.
The Empathy Circle did its job.. Charlie learned a lot about her friends and guests, but especially herself. She felt their pain, the weighted confessions of sinner demons and their existence in Hell was an all too real truth that she still felt naive about.
She just wanted them to be joyous in Heaven, amongst the other angels. She wanted them to be forgiven, for them to be with their other loved ones. To love and be loved in return. She wanted—
Alastor stood outside of her bedroom, a neatly wrapped parcel in his hands.
Her heart quickened at the sight of him and she failed to quash down the feeling, if she even tried.
"Al?" she said, voice hoarse from today's efforts.
"Hello, my darling. How are you faring this fine evening?"
"I'm okay…" she said, devoid of energy. "The activity went off without a hitch…Everyone participated and I learned a lot."
"Though it worked a little too well, didn't it?"
She nodded. He definitely read her like a book.
"There were some things I was pretending not to see. I think– I don't know– I think I thought if I didn't know about them, they wouldn't get in the way of what I was trying to do. Like if I just ignored the truth, it wouldn't be an obstacle."
"What is this truth?"
"That I don't know what I'm doing!" She sighed, running a rough hand through her locks and pulling at the roots. "Ugh! I just need a sign! Of anything! Even Heaven's silence is deafening. I don't know if I'm just… wasting my time. And everyones' here."
Charlie couldn't believe she was saying this. She was always so steadfast in her beliefs. But to practically confess her doubt...
She wished she didn't say that in front of Alastor, of all people, but the words just came spilling forth from her mouth. But they were close enough by now that the ease of speaking trumped any hesitation. She hoped he would understand.
Alastor's brow curved into a curious look.
"You're doing well regardless, sweetheart. Even if redemption is not on the table for these succulent sinners, they're getting something out of this."
She side-eyed him. "Like what? Group therapy?"
"Camaraderie? Friendship? Don't tell me you forgot the main tenets of our hotel!"
"Our hotel– oh…that's what you said," she chuckled, a bit surprised. Charlie looked up at him then, her eyes shimmering. "...I just want them all to be happy."
Alastor took a step closer, his presence almost comforting in its intensity. "Happiness is fleeting, my dear, especially in a place like this." He tilted his head towards her. "But what you offer is hope for these miscreants… And that is something far more enduring."
She looked away from him then, his grinning face getting to her. She couldn't believe he could say something like that so honestly. It was unlike him, and yet it was all he had been offering her for so long. She attempted to hide her exhilaration at his words, her brows twisting in consternation.
Charlie hid her face as she spoke, and tried to level her voice. "Thank you, Al…You're being so nice again… I always feel like I don't deserve it."
"Oh?" He stepped into her line of sight. Unable to hide, Charlie helplessly looked up at him. Once he had her attention, he continued, "Shall I be nasty, instead?"
The demoness scoffed, but with a smile. "I've seen you nasty and I think I'd prefer it over this…"
Alastor laughed, a staticky warmth layered throughout his silken voice. "That could be arranged," he purred.
Charlie fought the urge to shove him away, her mood having shifted easily from burdened to embarrassed in a matter of moments. He had that effect on her. She shoved him anyway, with playful force.
Already feeling much better, Charlie glanced around the empty corridor, wondering why they were just standing in the hallway. She recalled then that Alastor had just been loitering outside her room.
"So what're you doing here? What's that for?" she asked, indicating the parcel in his clawed fist.
"Straight to the point, I see!" he commented, bringing it out for her to inspect. "It's a gift… something to lift your spirits," Alastor said, in his own version of playing coy. He kept glancing at her face.
"For me?"
The wrapping was sparkly and delicate, the bow a soft, blood-red velvet. It was almost too pretty to open. But Charlie did so anyway, her face asking silently once more if this was truly a gift for her. At Alastor's insistent nod, her gloved fingers pulled at the tail of the fabric until it unravelled completely.
Inside was a small wooden box. Carved, what seemed, by hand (or claw.) She turned it around in front of her. Something about it was charming, despite its rough edges.
"It's lovely…" she commented, caught fully off-guard by the simple trinket. "Did you make this?"
"Keep going, dear."
She obeyed, opening up the tiny metal latch that secured the lid. It flipped open easily and inside was…
"It's empty…" she said, confused.
"Look again."
Peering inside, she was met with the same emptiness. She tilted the box, searching every angle and corner for a sign of something more, but was met with nothing.
"Al, I don't–"
"It's filled with potential."
She shook her head, the threat of a smile at the corner of her mouth. "Oh haw haw–"
"Just kidding~" Alastor crooned. He reached behind her head, stroked her hair, before pulling his hand back. Within his grasp was a brilliant blue necklace. A stone inlet with curly metal snakes and leaves.
Charlie gasped, accepting the pendant into her waiting and eager palms. She looked at Alastor and then back at the jewel.
"From me and me alone," he intoned, grinning happily at her, his gaze lidded and satisfied. "Lapis lazuli," he continued. "Quite the rare stone in Hell!"
She was in awe, on the verge of soft tears. "It's so beautiful… I can't wait to wear it!"
The blonde flung the jewel over her neck and gestured for assistance in clasping it. She held her hair up, revealing a pale, bare neck.
Alastor swallowed a lump. "I had intended it as a mere curio–"
"Oh shut up, Al! I'm wearing it!"
Hushing up, the deer demon complied, his clawed fingers trembling as he fumbled with the latch. After a moment's consternation, he had it secured. His face was briefly perturbed, a sheen of dampness on his forehead. Usually he might've been a lot smoother in situations such as these…
"Thank you! I love it. So much." Charlie spun around while admiring her new necklace. She shone brighter than the sun at night, the glittering of her newfound necklace matching. Her gloom of moment's ago a now distant dream. Just as intended. The pair locked eyes then, twin grins adorning their faces.
"How do I look?" she asked, suddenly timid. She fiddled with the gem.
"Ravishing," he declared, voice like velvet, not once looking away from her face. He reached forward, clawed fingers brushing her hand as he adjusted the pendant against her chest. A gesture so tender it sent a shiver down her spine. "There," he spoke, his voice missing its customary lilt. "Perfect."
...
AN: This chapter explores their soul exchange a little bit more, their connection, how they feel around each other...
Thank you for reading!