.
.
"Nice digs, deer daddyyyy," sang Angel Dust the second Alastor reappeared in the lobby. He immediately regretted his decision.
"I can't say the same, unfortunately. What in Hell are you wearing?" The red demon questioned Angel's outfit consisting of patches of colorful leather and straps that weaved in all directions, covering up the more risque bits.
"You like it? I borrowed it from one of my stripper pals at the ol' Down and Dirty club." Angel did a little twirl and popped a hip.
Alastor couldn't look even less interested but was compelled to ask. "And why are you wearing it?"
"Char gave me a spot in the performance line-up! It's been a while since I've danced in a classy joint like this."
"I think you're missing the 'classy' part of that outfit," said Husk, pouring himself another drink after a day of heavy drinking. Planning for a party was proving particularly stressful for the cat demon even though he barely raised a paw.
"Don't be hatin', kitty, it's my one time to shine and give this place somethin' to look forward to!" He strutted up and down the recently conjured stage, looking more at home than he has in a while.
But it was short-lived as his cellphone began ringing. Angel's grin immediately fell and he hopped off the stage to take it. His expression said it all and Husk sighed into his drink. "Poor kid."
Alastor wandered over to the bar and took a seat. "A whiskey, my old chum."
"Finished terrorizing our princess?"
Alastor gave a sinister grin, "Not in the slightest!"
"What'd you do to her anyway?" asked Husk, placing the drink in front of the demon.
The deer took a thoughtful sip, savoring its burn as it slid down his throat. It was a nice distraction from the other burn in his chest. "I do not know what you mean, Husker chum! I've only done as was requested of me."
"You scared the living daylights out of her. I've never seen her look that way before."
"And I don't plan on seeing that look again. Another drink, if you please."
"Well maybe if you left her alone, you wouldn't have to." Husk begrudgingly poured him another.
Alastor narrowed his eyes, "I will enjoy the princess's company as I see fit." He downed the glass in a single gulp.
"Whose company will you enjoy?" came a chipper voice behind him. Alastor nearly spat out his drink, taking a harsh swallow instead. He coughed out a cloud of magic.
He spun around and was greeted by a ruby-red stare. "Why Husker chum's of course!" he grinned and the cat demon in question shook his head.
"Things are going so well! We've had several RSVPs already. Well I wouldn't say they RSVP'd so much as told us they'd come for the free food and drink. That's something, isn't it? And it looks amazing around here!" Charlie spun in a circle, admiring their handiwork. "I love what you've done with the place!"
"All with your guidance, dear."
The blonde demoness finally glanced down at the Radio Demon's outfit, noticing he was without his coat.
"Wow," she paused, looking him up and down.
Alastor arched a slender eyebrow at her un-subtle examination.
"This is the first time I've seen you without your coat!"
He couldn't resist leaning forward, his face close enough to feel her breath. "How about without the rest?"
"I'd love to see you in another outfit for the opening!" she beamed, not catching his innuendo in her harried state of excitement.
Husk let out a deep chuckle from behind the pair. "You don't know how to quit, do you?"
"Well not even death has ever stopped me, old chum!" He turned his attention back to Charlie. "Will you be gracing the stage with your presence? The effeminate one told me he shall be performing."
Charlie dug her shoe into the carpet and had the audacity to look bashful, twirling her hair in her hand. "Ooooh I don't knoooow," she sang as she bounced away from the pair. In just a hop, skip, and a jump, the princess of Hell was on the stage performing a classic rendition of a tap dance.
"My, my," said Alastor and in a flash joined her on stage.
Startled by his entrance, Alastor grabbed Charlie's outstretched hands and the pair broke into a 1920s style swing dance. Music erupted out of nowhere (thanks to the Radio Demon), and gleefully the blonde was pulled and spun.
Husk watched, mildly amused from his front row seat at the bar, shaking his head in disbelief.
An effervescent smile covered Charlie's face and she was just in the middle of being dipped by the red demon when–
"What the HELL is going on here?" yelled Vaggie from the front door. She held a stack of papers and a clipboard.
The music came to a comedic screech as Alastor held his pose of dipping Charlie, one clawed hand around the small of her back, the other gripping her fingers. He was grinning from ear to ear, delighted at being caught.
"Vaggie!" Charlie returned upright and dusted herself off, winded from the energetic dancing. "I was just showing them what I wanted–"
"I'm out there passing out stupid fliers and you two are what? Having a little fun?" Vaggie flung her papers at the ground and stomped towards Alastor who teleported back to the bar.
"I wish you would wipe that grin off your face, it's pissing me off!" Vaggie jammed him in the chest with sharp nails, getting two good ones in before Alastor gripped her arm. She yanked her hand away, cringing.
Alastor's eyes turned a bloody red, his body vibrating with the urge to transform. His antlers grew a point as he snarled through a haze of static, "Don't do anything you might regret, dear."
Charlie immediately came between them, shoving them apart. "Stop it!" She turned to her fuming girlfriend. "Vaggie, we were just taking a little break."
"Oh, so you dance with him? He's a part of it now? He's a part of fucking everything I guess!" The gray angel was near tears as she stormed off, unable to quell her own rage and desperate to get out of sight.
Charlie raced after her, worry dotting her features. She flashed a helpless gesture at Alastor and Husk before disappearing around the corner.
Alastor resumed sitting at the bar, breathing just a little heavier than usual, drops of sweat beading on his forehead.
Husk poured him another drink. "You're a real sonnuvabitch, you know that?"
"Again, I have no idea what you mean."
…
Alastor didn't see the demon princess for the rest of the day, assuming she had her own personal issues to deal with.
He wasn't trying to antagonize the gray one exactly, but she just made it too damn easy.
But those jabs to his chest… got him right in his festering wound. He would've given himself away if he hadn't conjured up some strength at the last moment.
He had to do something fast.
Teleporting to his brand new radio tower, (he was surprised they were considerate enough to include one, not even knowing his whereabouts. He assumed it was Charlie's idea) Alastor grabbed his broken microphone.
He examined it closely and sighed. He had tried everything in his power to fix it. Until it was fixed, his power would be even more subdued, barring the wound on his chest. On top of that, there was something to be said about his own deal, and his ties to this plane. Could he even face it now in his current state? Did he even have a chance left in Hell?
But there was something yet he hadn't tried… and he was dreading it most of all.
Asking for help.
He would start with Zestial, his oldest friend/enemy, and one capable of keeping secrets. Then he'd make another trip to the ancient library. Perhaps there was yet some written record of whatever was happening to him.
The Radio Demon knelt at his new radio console for a moment and contemplated sending out a broadcast to announce the grand opening. Charlie would be most grateful to him. He shook the idea from his head. Radio would have to wait until his strength returned, not one to advertise his presence without at least the confidence that he could defend himself and the hotel if needed.
How easily the demoness inspired such reckless action in him. Dancing to his heart's content being one of those moments. But he couldn't resist, she just looked so cheerful and energetic, his body moved of its own accord.
Plus she's the only one he knew could keep up with him.
…
On the day before the grand reopening, Charlie was a frantic mess. She triple-checked everything in the hotel, going over the exact plan with the others until they had finally had enough and forced her to sit down and take a breather.
Two breaths later and the demoness had vanished from her seat, already off to inspect some other minor detail.
It had to be perfect! They've never had so many people in the hotel before this day and absolutely nothing could go wrong. She pleaded to the angels of Heaven in the past, how hard could a silly grand opening of the physical representation of her life-long dream be?
This line of thought only worked to stress her out further so she sought to push it away by thinking about those she now had by her side working towards the same dream.
Vaggie, of course, was her guardian angel, almost quite literally. But their last argument left a bitter note in every conversation they had since. They couldn't even discuss the hotel without it devolving into some argument about Alastor and how he was plotting to eventually destroy and ruin everything.
The constant runaround of the same topic was so exhausting that Charlie worked to remain so occupied that she couldn't be caught talking to either Alastor or Vaggie! She didn't want the negativity of the matter leaking into her good mood regarding the opening. Charlie had to be on and ready and couldn't let anything bring her down.
So when Alastor approached her that evening, after having been out of her sight for who knows how long, she hesitated, afraid that whatever he wished to discuss would only burden her emotions further. She was already teetering on the edge of her sanity as it is.
Charlie could only imagine what it entailed as she followed him to his bedroom, claiming he needed "absolute privacy." The mere thought of needing "absolute privacy" with Alastor in his room, at night, was enough to make her blush, but not enough to really scare her. They'd been alone in bedrooms before… and the last time they were alone in her own bedroom she had struck a deal with the Radio Demon.
She sighed audibly at the memory, still wondering if she had made somewhat of a mistake, but not truly regretting it. The result of the deal granted her an army and the means to protect their hotel. But why did it require a deal at all? And what kind of 'favor' could the deer demon even want of her?
Why couldn't he have just done it out of the kindness of his heart? Charlie shook her head of the thought, knowing it was foolish to think that Alastor could do anything altruistic. Though, then again, he had done everything he could in that fight against Adam, probably costing him something in the process.
What that something was, she still didn't know, as Alastor still refused to tell her! He was a man of many secrets, a mystery she couldn't crack, but she wouldn't give up on slowly tearing his shell apart, bit by bit.
She smiled once more in determination, raising a fist, and looked up to see Alastor regarding her smoothly.
"Are you having a lovely conversation with yourself, darling?" he asked, having borne witness to the millions of emotions that flashed across her face as she thought to herself.
"Hehe, how could you tell?" Charlie said, dropping her fist behind her back.
"I can read you like a book," he said, before turning to his bedroom door. He unlocked it and stepped inside, holding it open for her.
She entered quickly, brushing past him and making her way towards the couch where she always sat in the same spot. It was funny that she had her own spot in the Radio Demon's personal bedroom.
He locked the door behind him and Charlie swallowed a gulp.
"Are you okay, Al? You seem a little more serious than usual. Are you worried about the opening tomorrow?"
"Ha-ha! I have no worries about tomorrow whatsoever. I know it will go off without a hitch. All due to your careful and overly obsessive planning." He threw his head back and laughed. "I can't wait to see what pathetic wastewater we attract to the hotel. It'll all be so delightfully amusing." He moved across the room, opting to stand facing the Princess of Hell instead of sitting next to her.
He leaned against a pile of books and folded his arms, now looking positively pensive.
"Al…?" Charlie's worries mounted the longer she looked at her companion. It was the first time she really looked at him in days. He appeared tired, barely able to stand on his own two feet. The only unchanging thing about him was his bright smile, and even that seemed clipped.
"Remember some days prior when I mentioned showing you something?" he began.
"Of course!"
"Well, try not to act rash but," he reached up with a gloved hand and slowly removed his tie and placed it on the table beside him. With both hands now, he removed his coat and began to unbutton his dress-shirt, deliberately popping one button at a time.
Charlie watched with bated breath, feeling desperately like she shouldn't be watching this but also being unable to look away. Her face warmed more and more the longer she stared. When she glanced up at his face, he was watching her with an expression she couldn't read.
"Umm, Alastor…" she hesitated, shifting in her seat.
"Don't get too excited, dear," he said quietly. The Radio Demon then opened his shirt all the way. And there she saw it. The spiraling, shifting mass of blackness cut across his chest. It shook like magnetic fibers, sticking in and out of his alabaster skin, being pulled by some unseen force.
It radiated down his front and was nearly cresting his neck.
Charlie's eyes bulged out of her face and she scrambled up and out of her seat.
"Oh saints, is that what I think it is?" she whispered.
"And what is that? I've done as much research as I dared and have come up empty-handed. I've reached the point where I had no choice but to consult others and seeing as you know some things I don't I thought–"
"Oh Alastor!" she cried, "you have the Mark of Judgment!"
"Hmm, I really ought to have trusted you the first chance I got. Pity…Get a good look now, my darling, I'm not sure the next time you'll ever see me whole again," he laughed without humor.
He began to re-button as calm as can be, still not understanding the gravity of what that meant.
Charlie trembled, still in shock of what she was seeing.
"Now then," he began, finishing up his collar and then taking a careful seat next to the demon princess. "What is the Mark of Judgment?"
"You're being taken," Charlie said, her voice dripping with utter horror.
"Well I am quite taken with you," he joked, running his arm along the back of the couch. "But that still doesn't tell me anything about the current situation."
Snapping out of it, Charlie turned towards her business partner and gripped him by the shirt. He winced but Charlie hardly noticed in her fervor. "It's what happens when your soul is scourged! A fate worse than death, a fate worse than being punished in Hell. The Mark of Judgment places you under Its scrutiny and you will be judged again. And when you are judged a second time, it isn't by Heaven or Hell!"
Alastor pondered on this. "Then by whom?"
"It isn't a person! Or an angel or a king, like my dad. It's…" she waved her hands again, unable to speak its name, if it had one.
She continued after a calming breath, her hands re-tangling in Alastor's shirt, desperate to hold onto him as if he'd suddenly float away. "It's like a force. I didn't think it was real or even that such a thing was possible. It was just a silly story my dad told me as a child. There's even a nursery rhyme! Sinners go to Hell, but some need punishment beyond Hell."
Her sclera was fevered red, as it tended to do when she was in a heightened state of emotion. Alastor never thought he'd see her so worked up over something like this, something having to do with him of all people. If anyone deserved extended punishment, it was probably someone like the Radio Demon.
He put his clawed hands on hers and unwrapped her fingers from the fabric of his shirt. He still adopted that airy calm, trying his best to instill the feeling into his companion.
"Calm yourself, sweet," he said, still reeling from the blast of information he had just absorbed.
Charlie was practically sobbing, still in disbelief. She wiped at her tears to no avail.
"What will happen to me?" he asked once she had composed herself a little.
"When the black spot consumes your whole body, you'll disappear. You'll be scourged," she finally spoke, stoic.
"And how is this any different than being banished to the void?"
"It just is!" she yelled, working herself up again. "It's worse than nothingness! Eternal punishment in the dark!"
Alastor chuckled, "and I thought that's what Hell was for!"
Charlie stood. "It's not funny, Al!"
He waved her back into her seat. "Alright, alright. How do we stop it?"
Charlie shook her head, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill. "I don't know. I didn't even think it was real until five minutes ago."
Watching her cry for his sake gripped something in Alastor's heart that he couldn't place. His brows knitted in regret. He reached towards the half-angel and she met him halfway, crawling closer, letting him place a hand on her cheek. The pad of his thumb wiped away the remaining tears. She blinked up at him with a quivering lip, working to hold back a sob.
Suddenly, she bounced up, an idea sparking in her mind. "We should ask my dad! He ought to know more. I mean, who knows! I could be wrong, and this could be something else entirely!" She paced the room.
After a few minutes more of this, Charlie yelled, pointing towards the sky. "A-ha!" and pounced near him again. He fell back against the armrest in surprise.
"You can be redeemed!" she screeched, an unholy smile taking over her features.
"I beg your pardon?" he asked.
"Redemption! Except you're not trying to rise to Heaven, but instead stay in Hell!"
Alastor couldn't hold back a mocking grin. "You know how I feel about redemption, dear. Some demons can't be changed, especially a creature like me."
"But Alastor–"
The demon in question sighed. He stood from his spot on the couch and walked back towards the pile of books. He picked one out. It was titled "The Eternal End" as well as some curly script that had faded with time.
"I found this while I was searching for answers. It describes a demon's final days in Hell and what he chose to do with them. I thought I'd give it a go myself." He shrugged.
Charlie's golden eyes refilled with tears. "You're giving up?"
"Not giving up, just accepting my fate. If I am to be re-judged as a sinner, I ought to accept my lot in life. I did fully expect to go to Hell, mind you. I've had weeks now to mourn this loss. I've reached the end of my grieving period."
"No!" shouted Charlie, a growl escaping her throat.
"No?" he turned to her, seeing red horns poking through her hair. His eyes widened as she glowered at him, a newfound anger unlike he'd ever seen.
Blonde hair cascaded around her, floating on an unseen wind. "The Alastor I know wouldn't just throw in the towel!"
She was on him in a second, getting right up in his face, baring fangs and a sharp tongue.
"Charlie–" he began.
"As Princess of Hell, I command you to live!"
Alastor gaped at the demoness in front of him. For a second he thought he'd feel something curl within his body, some semblance of will that would force him to fight for his remaining life. But instead he felt nothing but the same resigned coolness. His eyes relaxed and he grinned down at her as she slowly lost steam. Smoke released from her like a doused candle and her head fell limp from the effort.
The Radio Demon held her by the shoulders and propped her head back up. "Nice try, sweetheart." Her eyes were dizzy with tears again.
"I'm sorry," was all she said.
He pulled her into a mournful little hug and she held him tight. "I'm sorry too, dearest."
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