Chapter Text
Charlie reluctantly scratched her pen against the document, crossing the final T in her signature. She had barely lifted the inky tip off the page when it was snatched out of her hands. Vox’s eyes eagerly scanned it, honing in on the curly loops of her name, her confirmation that the embargo has ended and VoxTek could officially resume operations.
“I’m glad you came to your senses, princess,” he said, a thick, sugary gloat coating every word.
“I want to be clear that this is a probationary period,” she replied matter-of-factly. “If VoxTek violates anything in the terms we’ve outlined, I’ll personally march the auditors here to shut you down again.”
“Sure, sure.” Vox smiled smugly at her, unfazed by her threat. “I take it Alastor’s pretty pissed about this, given he’s not here with you.”
Charlie straightened in her seat. “Lifting the embargo wasn’t his decision to make. It was mine.”
It wasn’t a decision she had wanted to make, but the princess felt like she had no other choice. The body count at the hotel was now up to three, with Twunk, another one of the big but harmless brutes from Carmilla’s warehouse, joining Manny on the missing sinners list. And although they hadn’t been buried out in the hotel garden like Peppy, she had a dreaded sense it would only be a matter of time before they were erecting two more makeshift memorials in the lobby. Someone was targeting the hotel, that she was sure. And even if it wasn’t some disgruntled social media addict exacting revenge for her temporary ban on all things VoxTek, she knew the only way she could make her hotel guests feel safe is if they felt connected, not through their relationships with one another, but their cell phones and tablets. So against her better judgement, she allowed Pentagram City to come back online.
A knowing glint flickered across Vox’s screen. “I just assumed you made decisions like this together. Partners in business and in romance, isn’t that what Alastor called you two?” He folded his hands on top of his desk and leaned in towards her. “Might there be problems in the board room and the bedroom?”
Charlie tried not to let her stern expression falter, despite the pang in her heart. Her personal affairs were in as much turmoil as the hotel, but she wasn’t about to lament her relationship woes to Vox of all people. “There’s a lot going on at the hotel right now. And it’s my responsibility to make the decisions that are best for our residents, even if Alastor doesn’t agree with them.”
“Seems to me he’s just holding you back from running that place the way you want to.”
She shook her head. “We’re a team. Just because we disagree sometimes doesn’t change that fact. In the end, I know we’ll always support each other.”
Vox let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “I used to think that about him too. And you know where it landed me? Alone in the rubble of a failed partnership, having to rebuild everything I worked so hard to create, because he literally burned the place down on his way out the door.” He tutted his tongue. “I hate to see him do the same to you, Charlie.”
“He hasn’t,” she stated firmly. “He won’t.”
Charlie knew the television demon was exaggerating, twisting the truth of his and Alastor’s history to suit his own narrative. But for a moment, there was a hint of real hurt in his eyes, a few misplaced pixels that temporarily unmasked his true feelings. It made his concern for her almost seem genuine.
“Give it time,” he replied.
Alastor sat slumped on a barstool, swirling the remnants of his breakfast in his glass. He took a final swig and set the drink down on the counter with a loud clack, grunting in demand of a refill. Wordlessly, Husk obliged, knowing better than to comment on the radio demon’s disheveled state or the nutritional value of having whiskey for breakfast.
The thoughts in his mind weighed as heavy as the alcohol in his gut. Tensions were high at the hotel, now that they had more missing guests than redeemed ones. What’s worse, Charlie had barely spoken to him since the incident with Bull, telling him that she needed some space and thought it would be best if she handled this situation on her own. He’s been trying to give that to her, spending his nights alone in his radio tower, being seen but not heard during the daily safety meetings she was running, even biting his tongue when she announced that she was ending the VoxTek embargo. Sure, he was currently loitering at the bar as he waited for her to return from her meeting with that box-headed bozo, but he just wanted to make sure she got back safely. There was a hotel slasher on the loose, after all.
The timid patter of shoes against carpet drew his attention and he turned to see Windows hurrying down the lobby staircase. He was clutching his hastily-packed suitcase, a shirt sleeve sticking out of it fluttering like a white flag of surrender. With an angry grumble, the radio demon vanished from his stool and reappeared a second later right in front of the sinner, blocking his access to the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Alastor growled.
Startled, Windows dropped his suitcase, spilling its contents onto the floor. “Oh! N-Nowhere,” he stammered. “J-Just… umm… going for a walk.”
Alastor picked up a pair of socks, igniting it in his hand. “And what’s all this? Afraid someone might break into your room and steal all your things while you’re out?”
“I-I… umm…” Windows gulped as Alastor sprinkled the ashy remains on top of his other belongings. He snapped his suitcase closed and tried to sidestep around the radio demon. “W-Well, the truth is, I just don’t think this place is a good fit for me. Please tell Princess Morningstar I’m sorry. Redemption sounds great but not if I get killed first.”
Alastor swung out his microphone cane to stop him. “The way I see it, you can stay here, and risk becoming the hotel slasher’s next victim. Or leave, and most certainly end up as mine.” Radio dials flashed in his eyes for a moment as his smile stretched threateningly wide. “Tell me, what sounds like the safer option?”
Windows cowered behind his suitcase, his feathers fluffing out as static buzzed harshly in the air around them. “Y-Yes sir, Mister Radio Demon, sir! I’ll stay!” Backing up a few steps, he turned on his heels and dashed up the stairs, not caring when his suitcase flopped open and left a trail of clothing behind him.
With a contemptuous “hmph”, Alastor returned to his seat at the bar, catching Husk’s eye before the bartender quickly looked down at the glass he was cleaning.
“What?” Alastor snapped. “Something to say, Husker?”
“Do you really think threatening guests into staying at the hotel is gonna get you out of the doghouse with Charlie?”
“I’m not in the doghouse,” he barked back defensively. “Charlie insisted she deal with this hotel whodunit on her own, and as facilities manager, I consider it my responsibility to remind our residents that the hotel is the safest place for them to be whilst she leads her internal investigation. We’re merely-” He twirled his hand in the air as he thought of an excuse. “Delegating our responsibilities!”
“Uh-huh. Sure, boss.”
Before Alastor could berate the feline bartender further, he heard the front doors open. His ears identified Charlie before his eyes did, twitching to the familiar sound of her boots against the floor. When he did see her, something in his heart sank. She looked exhausted, from the frazzled bits of hair she hadn’t bothered to tuck into her braid, to her usually rosy cheek marks that had paled to a dull pink, to the red rims around her eyes that told him she had recently been crying. As she stepped into the lobby, she met his gaze and held it for a moment. Her eyes softened, forlorn and vulnerable, yearning to seek comfort in him, like she had done so many times before.
“Charlie…” Alastor slipped off his stool, slowly reaching out a hand towards her, wanting nothing more than to take her in his arms and not let her go until all was forgiven and forgotten between them.
She looked away, busying herself with the papers in her hand as she headed towards the staircase, not saying a word to him. Alastor stared longingly after her, his outstretched fingers curling in on themselves before his hand dropped defeatedly to his side. With a sigh, he flopped back down on the stool, earning a sympathetic look from Husk before the bartender poured him another drink.
That night, like he had every night for the last week, Alastor sat alone in his radio tower. The bare walls, their decorations still keeping Charlie company in her bedroom, were now a canvas for his mental unraveling. They were covered from floor to ceiling with pages ripped from the ancient text Lucifer had lent him, with string crisscrossing like a spider’s web to connect disparate bits of information – illustrations of the fearfathers, blurry images of Bull he had sneakily taken with an old camera, hastily hobbled together timelines, and the mark of Cain, scribbled over and over, searing the symbol into the plaster in the same way he wished it had been seared into the bull demon’s skin. Rants were scrawled in bold red letters, screaming in his own voice back at him. HE’S NOT CAIN! followed by a furiously circled THEN WHO IS HE? Every thought he had was splattered onto the walls, a dizzying jumble of theories, accusations, and half-formed connections that all led to nowhere. It was a quirk he supposed he’d picked up from Charlie, this particular brand of obsessive investigation. And under different circumstances, he imagined she’d be rather amused, even a little proud, to see him channeling her energy so completely. Perhaps after he solves this mystery, he’ll leave all this up for her to see and they’ll have a good laugh about it.
There was a faint tapping at the window and Alastor turned to see one of his shadowy minions waving to him from behind the grimy glass. With a snap of his fingers, the window popped open and the tiny demon scurried inside. It eagerly bounced towards him and held out its hand, beaming proudly at the treasure it had brought its master. It was a rock.
The radio demon gave an exasperated groan. “Another groundbreaking discovery, I see." The creature dropped the little stone into his palm and he tossed it into the corner of the room where a pile of similar gifts had accumulated. That was all his shadowy minions had brought back to him from the badlands, if they even came back at all, as they tend to start eating each other when he leaves them unattended for too long. On a few occasions, he had followed them out there, only to be led in circles around the desert wasteland until there was more sand in his boots than there was on the ground.
He waved a dismissive hand at the shadowy minion and returned to scouring over his conspiracy wall. But the creature didn’t leave. It hopped excitedly from foot to foot, its hollow eyes fixed expectantly on Alastor.
He raised an eyebrow at it. “What? If it’s another rock, kindly do me the favor of bashing yourself in the head with it.”
It squeaked, trying to communicate something, and began jabbing its finger towards the window. Alastor looked out to where the badlands laid beyond the outskirts of the city.
“Is there something out there you’d like to show me?” he asked the tiny demon. “Something you found? Related to all this?” He gestured vaguely at the papers tacked to the walls.
His shadowy minion nodded eagerly, tugging on his pant leg as it coaxed him to follow it. Alastor stood up and swiftly summoned his dress coat. With another snap of his fingers, he and the creature became engulfed in a whirlwind of shadows.
“This better not be another dead end or I’ll banish you to the farthest reaches of oblivion,” he said before they both disappeared from his radio tower.
One sandy windswept trek through the badlands later, Alastor stood outside the entrance to a cave. Though calling it an entrance was generous. It was more of a fissure in the mountainside, so narrow that even he had to suck in what little gut he had to squeeze through. Illuminating the eye of his microphone cane, he followed his shadowy minion into its dark passageway.
Blue veins ran along the rocky walls, the same gems in the caves below Vee Tower and Dirty Laundry, giving him a fleeting curiosity if the cave systems were all interconnected. The walls pulsed with a faint glow that lit his path as it twisted and turned, descending so deep, he thought he might hit the magical boundary that separated the Pride ring from the other rings of hell. As the veins grew thicker and glowed brighter, he noticed carvings on the walls. Tally marks, at first, then devolving into furious scratches, like whoever was down here gave up counting the days a long time ago.
The passageway opened into a small cavern and what Alastor saw confirmed that someone had been living here. It was cluttered with a haphazard collection of furniture, as if they had taken bits and pieces from different centuries and mashed them together in an earnest attempt to create a livable space. A Victorian-era sofa sat in one corner, a cinder block tucked underneath where it was missing a leg. There was a rickety dinette table that looked like it was ripped out of a 1950s diner, its Formica top bowing under the weight of an old box television. A much more modern video player, the kind that took discs, sat next to it. Whoever was living here had done so somewhat recently.
“So is this where that beefy bastard has been hiding out all these years?” Alastor wondered out loud as he walked around the cavern. “Living in vagabondish squalor. Hah! Some overlord he must have been.”
His shadowy minion didn’t seem interested in anything in the cavern and scampered to the opposite side of it, where the passageway narrowed again as it continued deeper into the cave system. It gave an impatient squeak as it beckoned the radio demon to come closer.
In the shadowy nook of the cavern, he could make out the silhouette of someone, large, but unmoving. His ears pricked with alertness and he gripped his microphone cane tighter as he cautiously stepped closer. What he saw stopped him in his tracks and his cane fell to the ground with a loud clatter, echoing throughout the cave.
“What the FUCK?!”
There on the ground was Bull, slumped over lifeless with two gaping holes in his chest. Blood was crusted in his fur and the wounds still pulsed with a faint golden light. But this wasn’t a recent injury. He looked like he had been death for months, his body dried out like beef jerky from the arid climate of the badlands. And on his forearm, bare without its bracer, was the mark of Cain.
A heavy boot crunched on the pebbly ground behind him. “You just had to keep sticking that pointy nose of yours where it doesn’t belong, didn’t you?”
Alastor went rigid. Slowly he turned around, coming face to face with the bull demon himself. The mask of polite nicety he always wore was completely off, the dim lights of the cave dancing along every line of his sinister expression. Alastor looked between the corpse and living versions of the sinner, static popping in his brain as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
“They told me not to underestimate you.” Bull shook his finger mockingly at the radio demon. “And you were so close to figuring me out! I’ll give credit where credit is due. You’re pretty clever, Al. For a sinner, at least.”
There was an audible crack of bones as Alastor clenched his hands into tight fists. “Whatever cockamamie scheme you’ve been concocting in this cave, it ends now.”
His eyes darted down to his microphone cane laying on the ground. But before he could make a move for it, Bull lunged for it first. Twirling it in his hand, he stabbed it threateningly in Alastor’s direction, backing him against the wall. His shadowy minion hissed and rushed at the bull demon, who swung the cane around and struck the creature like a croquet ball. It slammed against the cave wall and fell limp to the ground.
Bull pressed the microphone against Alastor’s throat. A dangerous whir of energy flowed through it, different than his own, though something about it burned familiar against his skin. He swallowed hard against it, feeling a swell of static get lodged in his throat.
The bull demon’s eyes traveled to his dead doppelganger. With an arrogant snort, he gave the corpse a kick. “I see you met my brother.”
“Brother?”
Alastor’s eyes snapped wide in realization.
“You’re Abel!”
He scrunched his nose in distaste. “Oh, and you called yourself Bull? How woefully unclever-”
Before he could make another witty quip, the radio demon felt the sickening crack of his own cane against his skull. His vision fractured into a kaleidoscope of glittering gold before he crumpled to the ground and darkness claimed him.
Charlie sat at the bar, idly twirling the swizzle stick in the fizzy pink drink Husk had mixed for her. She was reading through the brochure Vox had insisted she take about VoxTek’s newest line of security equipment. Each glossy page was covered in oversaturated photos and punchy text that made outlandish, too-good-to-be-true promises about the gadgets it was advertising. When she flipped to the back of the brochure, she was greeted with an image of the television demon. He was giving a thumbs up, a fake smile stretched edge-to-edge on his screen, with a speech bubble that read VoxTek: Because You Need Us! She shook her head and placed her glass down on top of his face.
“Am I crazy for even considering this, Husk?” she asked the bartender. “Vox’s been nothing but trouble for us. I know this is just another attempt to spy on the hotel, but I don’t know what else we can do so our guests feel safe here. Their safety’s more important than their privacy, right?
Husk shrugged. “I don’t know much more than Alastor about all that tech stuff. But maybe a few security cameras would put folks at ease.” He nodded towards the brochure. “What did he have to say about this anyways? Can’t imagine he’s very keen on the idea.”
“I haven’t talk to him about it yet.” The princess crossed her arms with a huff. “Though I'm sure he'll be super rational and level-headed about it, and not overreact in anyway whatsoever!” The little swell of anger immediately subsided and she sighed. “I haven’t even seen Alastor since yesterday. I asked him for some space and well… I guess he’s giving it to me.”
“You’re still on the outs with him, huh?”
Resting her elbows on the bar counter, Charlie plopped her head in her hands. “I dunno, Husk. Was I too harsh on him the other day? I know he meant well, but sometimes he sees red and there’s just no reasoning with him!”
Husk placed the bottle in his hand back on the shelves behind the bar. He was silent for a moment as his fingers ghosted over the bottle next to it. A whiskey, with a label Charlie recognized as one that Alastor enjoyed. It was nearly empty.
“In all the time I’ve known Alastor, I’ve never seen him care about anything, anyone, as much as you, Charlie,” he said. “I don’t think he knows how to handle that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You make him see red. Not much scares the guy, but the thought of losing you? That rattles him to his core.”
Something stirred in Charlie’s heart, a bittersweet ache as she thought about this man she had chosen to love, as trying as he was tender, as possessive as he was protective, as wicked as he was wonderful. He was a never-ending carousel, spinning her round and round through the highs and lows of their relationship. But the music that always played, the melody she could always hear no matter how dizzying and unpredictable this carousel was, was his care for her. It was a ride she never wanted off of.
“I’m scared of losing him too,” she admitted. With a sweep of her arms, she motioned around them. “I couldn’t run this place without him. More importantly, I wouldn’t want to. This dream of mine didn’t become a reality until he came to the hotel.” She clutched her hands to her chest. “And if this dream fails, if I have a million more just like it that fail too, I just want him by my side through it all.”
Husk chuckled softly, a smirk playing on his lips. “You should be telling him all this.”
She smiled back. “I guess I should.”
Just then, a frantic scratching at the hotel entrance interrupted them. Charlie peered out the window to see one of Alastor’s shadowy minions, its tiny claws a flurry as it made a scratching post out of the front doors. When it spotted her, it hobbled over to the window and pressed its face against it.
“Chaaarlie!” it chirped, wildly waving its arms.
Her heart leapt, wondering if the creature was sent by Alastor, if all his aloofness the past few days had been because he was preparing some grand romantic gesture, sure to sweep her off her hooves and make her forget she had ever even been mad at him. She threw a coy shrug over her shoulder at Husk and hurried to let the shadowy minion inside.
“Hey there, little guy,” she greeted, crouching down as she gave the tiny demon an affectionate pat. “Did Alastor send you?”
It shook its head, the stitches of its smile wriggling anxiously. “Charlieee!”
Taking her hand, it hurriedly led her outside, but stumbled forward as it tripped on one of the pavestones. Charlie then noticed what rough shape the poor creature was in. Black ichor oozed from a wound on its head and the stitches that held its body of shadow and magic together were unraveling at the seams. Along the pathway that led to the hotel, she could see the bloody trail of where it had dragged itself back here. A cold dread settled over her, turning the blood in her veins to ice. Something was wrong.
“Where’s Alastor?” she asked, her voice trembling with rising concern. “Is he okay?”
The shadowy minion gurgled in distress. “Charlie! Charlie!!” It continued squeaking her name with a desperate urgency, tugging on her hand as it begged her to follow it.
Charlie tried to ignore the chilling thoughts in her mind, how she hadn’t seen the radio demon since yesterday, how it wouldn’t be the first time someone’s gone missing from the hotel, how he barely survived his first encountered with an angelic weapon, how uncertain she was that he could survive a second…
She clutched tightly to the tiny demon’s hand. “Will you take me to him?”
A little while later, the princess found herself beyond the borders of Pentagram City in the bitter winds and rocky terrain of the badlands. The shadowy minion had led her to a cave, and after traversing its twisting passageways, she stepped inside a large cavern. There was nothing here except for a few drippy stalactites and some scratches on the wall.
“I don’t understand,” she said, looking around confused, her voice echoing in the vast, empty space. “Where’s Alastor? Why did you bring me here?”
The creature, just as confused as she was, began chittering frantically as it dug in the dirt, as if whatever it had wanted to show her was buried here. Charlie kneeled next to it and petted its head, trying to comfort it.
“C-Charlie…” it whimpered, weakly nuzzling into her hand. She watched helplessly as the last bit of magic holding it together unraveled and it disappeared in a billowy puff of smoke.
The princess rose to her feet, a fiery resolve melting the icy trepidation that trickled through her. Whatever was or wasn’t in this cave, she knew why Alastor came out to the badlands.
Bull.
Maybe it was time she had a serious conversation with the well-mannered ex-overlord.
Back at the hotel, Charlie was relieved to see it was mostly status quo among the residents, given the uneasy circumstances as of late. Niffty was scampering around in the kitchen as she prepared dinner, barking orders to her team of sous chefs comprised of the Heathers and her lizard-skinned stepstool, Ted. There was a group of sinners gathered in the lounge and discussing what movie they should watch for the next movie night, now that the VoxTek embargo was lifted. Angel Dust was among them and he waved to Charlie as she passed by, his smile dropping when he noticed the anxious hitch in her step.
“You good, toots?” he called after her.
“I’m fine,” she replied. Looking across the couchful of her friends, she forced a smile, not wanting to worry them, not when she was unsure herself of what was going on. “Have any of you seen Bull? There’s something I wanted to chat with him about.”
Angel shrugged. “He’s usually putzing around in the kitchen to help Niffty with dinner. Did you check there?”
She nodded. “She said he skipped breakfast and lunch today too.”
“You don’t think he…?” Angel lolled his head to the side, sticking out his tongue as he stabbed an imaginary knife into his chest.
“I’m sure he’s okay!” she quickly assured the group as they began nervously murmuring to each other. She glared at Angel for making such a suggestion and he put up his hands in defense.
“Eh, you’re right. The hotel slasher would be crazy to take on a guy that size!”
If Alastor was right about one thing regarding Bull, it was that the burly bovine loved being in other people’s business. Charlie had found it endearing, how eager he was to be helpful, to fit in, to prove himself worthy of redemption. Since the incident with Alastor, Bull had made himself a bit scarce, though that hadn’t concerned her. In fact, she had just been relieved he didn’t immediately pack his bags and storm out of the hotel.
But now, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling she had, with both men missing. Had Alastor challenged Bull to a rematch, out in the badlands where he knew Charlie wouldn’t interfere? Or was Bull the instigator, luring Alastor to his old home so he could kick his ass away from the judgmental eyes of his fellow hotel guests? Or had they both fallen victim to the hotel slasher?
Whether or not this was all just some horrible coincidence, she knew once she found one of them, she’d get answers about the other.
Deciding to start her search with the hotel grounds, Charlie headed outside to see if Bull was tending to the garden. In the week since they discovered Peppy’s corpse, weeds had overtaken the flowerbeds and the dumpster demon raccoons had devoured much of the vegetables that were growing. It saddened her that all their hard work had fallen into such neglect, but she didn’t blame folks for abandoning the gardening club.
Neither the living nor dead version of Bull was hanging out in the garden and the princess found nothing except a stray rake lying on the ground. She picked it up and headed towards the shed where they stored all their gardening supplies. As she got closer, she noticed a faint glow underneath the door. Her pace slowed as she tiptoed cautiously forward.
“…Onto me…”
“…Can’t wait any longer…”
“…In the caverns…”
She heard bits and pieces of a conversation, muffled and tensely whispered.
“We need to do this NOW, Lute!”
Before Charlie could retreat, the shed door swung open and she came face-to-face with Bull. He froze, eyes widening as he realized he wasn’t alone. Charlie’s breath caught in her throat, and for a tense moment, neither of them moved.
“Miss Charlie!” he exclaimed, the whites of his teeth flashing as he attempted a friendly smile. “You gave me quite the spook! What brings you out here? Doing some twilight weed-pulling?”
Her eyes slowly traveled to the object in his hand, a communication device, one of the ones heaven had provided for their sinner-to-winner visiting hour. She recalled getting billed for the missing device, but had paid it and thought nothing of it, chalking it up to one of the clumsier residents breaking theirs and being too embarrassed to admit it. Afterall, the devices didn’t even work unless they were activated from the other side.
“Bull?” Her voice trembled as she tried to stay calm. “Why do you have that?”
“Oh, this piece of junk? I was just, uh… tinkering with it. Found it in the trash. Someone busted it and didn’t want to fess up, I guess. Figured I’d fix it for you.”
“Y-You were talking to someone,” she stammered. “Who… who were you talking to?”
Bull’s eyes narrowed slightly. “No one. You must have just heard the VoxTube tutorial I was watching.”
The realization struck Charlie with the force of an entire legion of exorcists and she staggered back from the bull demon. “Oh my god… Alastor was right about you, wasn’t he?”
Bull let out a heavy sigh, and in that moment, the last vestiges of his friendly façade crumbled. The hate, the anger, the disgust, all the malicious intent that had been lurking beneath the surface was now sharp and clear in his eyes.
“Oh, Miss Charlie,” he drawled, all warmth gone from his voice. “You’re just as nosy as that damn deer dear of yours.”
Charlie flinched, her eyes stinging with tears. “W-What did you do to him?!”
A cruel smile split his face. He looped his fingers through the golden ring pierced through his snout, and with a single, violent tug, ripped it clean out. The princess watched in horror as gold blood dripped from the wound, but before she could make sense of what that meant, he lunged for her.
Glittering magic swirled along the golden ring, transforming it into a long, sickled blade. The angelic weapon was a blur in Bull’s hand as he slashed at Charlie. She stumbled back with a yelp, the rake in her hand flying out to take the brunt of the attack. The blade sliced through it like butter, and as Bull followed through with another stab, Charlie instinctively raised her arms to defend herself. She cried out in pain as the blessed steel cut deep into her forearm, barely having time to recover before dodging another of his swings. Losing her footing, she fell hard to the ground, smacking her skull against the rocky terrain.
Bull stalked towards her, angelic weapon grasped tightly in his fist. Dirt kicked up around the princess as she tried to scramble to her feet, her head pulsing in pain, her bleeding arm clutched tightly to her chest. He stood over her, his bulky frame blotting out the hellish suns, his horns illuminated like a demented halo atop his head. Gold blood still dripped from his snout and splattered on the ground, mixing with the demonic red stains of hers.
“For what it’s worth, I do think you’re a nice gal, Miss Charlie,” he said.
“Then why are you doing this?!”
“We all must pay for the sins of our fathers.”
He swung the sickled blade down towards her, and mustering all the magic she could, she threw out her hands to stop it. A harsh clang of steel against steel reverberated through the air as the angelic weapon bounced off the golden wings of her shield, sparks of unholy magic dancing along its edges as it manifested.
The recoil sent Bull reeling backwards, eyes wide in bewilderment. Seizing her moment, Charlie jumped forward, bashing her shield like a battering ram against the bull demon’s face. He let out an agonizing cry as one of his horns shattered, leaving a jagged, bleeding nub of bone attached to his skull.
“YOU DEVIL BITCH!” he bellowed.
“Hey, you oversized smashburger!”
They both turned to see Angel Dust burst through the front doors of the hotel. He was quickly followed by Husk, Niffty, and a small army of hotel guests.
“You pick a fight with Charlie, you pick a fight with all of us!”
They rushed to the princess’s aid, wielding weapons of their own crafting. In one set of hands, Angel brandished the pointy end of a few broken beer bottles, in the other, he was ready to lob some loose bricks. Niffty had traded her needle for a meat tenderizer and cackled as she swung it wildly around her. The Heathers looked ready to scratch out Bull’s eyes with their long, sharp, perfectly manicured nails. Even Laurel and Leonard had joined the fray, pumping a matching set of saw-offed shotguns.
“We heard the commotion out here,” Husk explained, shuffling a stack of razor-sharp playing cards between his hands before pointing them in Bull’s direction. “Man, I hate when Alastor’s right.”
The group closed in on Bull, backing him against the exterior wall of the hotel. His eyes darted nervously to each of them and he pointed his sickled blade at anyone who got too close. As his back hit the brick wall, he looked around frantically, calculating an escape. He was outnumbered and he knew it. With a brutish roar, massive wings burst from the burly bovine’s back. He launched himself in the air, a powerful beat of his pinions carrying him away from the hotel and into the scarlet sky.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Husk growled, flapping his wings as he prepared to go after him.
“Husk, no!” Charlie grasped his arm before his feet could leave the ground. “Let him go. He’s too dangerous.”
“I didn’t know cows could fly,” Angel quipped, putting a hand to his brow as he watched Bull shrink into a tiny dot in the sky. “So I guess Bull really was the one whacking off folks here?”
Charlie looked up to the glowing, haloed orb in the sky, where their heavenly brethren resided. “I think it’s much worse than that.”
Alastor stirred awake in a groggy, pained haze. His head throbbed, his vision blurred, and every inch of his body felt like it was on fire. In his half-conscious stupor, he wondered if he was finally facing the infernal punishment he had expected upon arriving in hell. As his senses slowly returned, he became aware of the chains binding him. Angelic steel, judging by the way they burned his skin. He was still in Cain’s cave, from the looks of it, though the faint blueish glow that lit the rocky walls didn’t come from the gem deposits. Lifting his head towards the light source, he saw Bull, silhouetted by the dim glow from a single computer screen. On it flickered an image of the hotel. The angelic imposter’s muscular stature had become even more intimidating, with a large pair of wings now sprouted from his back. Hearing the radio demon stir, he turned around.
“Welcome back to the land of the unliving,” he said. “For now, at least.” As Bull stalked forward, Alastor noticed his head hung heavy to one side. Gold blood dripped from the broken remains of one of his horns.
“Looks like someone gave you quite the licking,” Alastor mocked, grin curling defiantly. “Is your diabolical plan not working out the way you expected?”
Bull wiped at the blood that had trickled down his face. “I have your precious princess to thank for that. This little detective game you two have been playing has really been pissing me off.”
The radio demon pulled angrily against his chains, hissing as his flesh sizzled against the blessed metal. “If you touched a single hair on her head I’ll-”
“She’s fine, don’t worry.” Bull nodded at his constraints as the radio demon continued to struggle against them. “Good luck getting out of those. That’s archangel grade steel. Forged them myself from dad’s old guitar, same one he almost killed you with. Fitting, don’t you think?”
“If you have an axe to grind about that wannabe rockstar man-baby you called a father, you can grind it with me,” Alastor spat back. “Leave Charlie out of it!”
“That stupid, shrill, sniveling she-devil is the reason dad’s dead,” Bull said, a bitter bite to his voice. “And I want justice. An eye for an eye. Or rather, a father for a father.”
The radio demon was beginning to piece together his plan. “So it’s Lucifer you’re after?”
Hatred burned in Bull’s eyes, though it didn’t seem reserved for the radio demon, the princess, or even the king of hell.
“It wasn’t fair, you know,” he began. “The way dad hated me after what happened. It’s not like I asked to be killed. I couldn’t help it that I was better than my brother in every way. He knew it, mom and dad knew it, even the big guy upstairs knew it. Then he murders me out a sheer jealousy and that’s somehow my fault?! Why should I get blamed for my brother’s sins? He’s the murderer!”
The angelic imposter’s wings ruffled irritably as he paced in front of Alastor, all his ancient fraternal grievances pouring out of him like wine overflowing a communal cup. “I had a hunch Cain was still down here. Dad always got a bit cagey whenever I asked about him. All these years, he’s just been chilling in his man cave. And if it wasn’t bad enough he got spared from the exterminations, dad also gave him extra protection!” Bull placed a hand on his chest, where the first set of his identical puncture wounds peeked out of his shirt. Alastor realized they bore an eerie resemblance to the holes in his brother’s corpse. “Whosoever slayeth Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold or whatever. Stupid biblical bullshit.” Bull scoffed bitterly. “And you know what the worst part is?”
“Not the mutual fratricide, I’m sure,” muttered Alastor.
“That jealous jackass stole my look!” Bull exclaimed, pointing both index fingers at his bovine features. “Where does he get off looking exactly like me?! Cows were MY thing! Cain could barely grow a single stalk of corn, let alone raise an entire herd of cattle!”
The radio demon let out an incredulous huff. “So that’s what this is about. You weren’t daddy’s favorite anymore and now you’re pissy that he’s dead and the two of you will never have the heartfelt reconciliation you’ve always wanted.” His voice warbled mockingly. “Oh boo hoo. We’ve all got unresolved issues with our parents. But I’m done being your shrink. Why don’t I bill you for the hour and let’s get on with this. If you’re going to kill me, then do it.”
Bull snorted angrily and surged forward, gold magic flurrying around the angelic weapon, sharp and sickled, that appeared in his hand. He pressed it against Alastor’s throat. “I would love nothing more than to drive this blade into your black, rotted demon heart and finish what my father started.” He backed off. “But that wasn’t part of the deal.”
Alastor’s eyes narrowed. “What deal?”
As if on cue, the cavern was suddenly overtaken by a harsh, blinding light. Behind them, the single computer screen began to glow bright, then in an instant, dozens of others flickered to life around it. Alastor recoiled from the brightness, and as the light revealed every rocky nook and chiseled cranny of the cave, he realized he wasn’t out in the badlands anymore.
This was the cavern below Vee Tower.
A familiar face stretched wide across the monitors, grinning with malicious delight. “Hello, Alastor!” Vox’s voice boomed. “I’d introduce you to my good friend Abel here, but I know you’re already well acquainted.”
“Vox!” Alastor spat viciously. “I should have known you two were in kahoots.”
“Why should your girlfriend be the only one who gets to schmooze with our angelic counterparts?” he replied. “I’ve always said it’s important to have friends in high places.”
Bull rolled his eyes, grumbling something indecipherable under his breath. The friendship did not seem willingly reciprocated. “Lute’s ready to go. Are those stupid drones of yours done yet?” he snapped.
“Geeze, you angel types are so impatient,” Vox retorted. “They’re just about ready. Had to cram in the last few updates, considering someone blew his cover and fucked up our plans.”
Static swelled and popped inside Alastor, the angelic steel binding him giving it no outlet for release. “So you rubbed elbows with a few haloed psychopaths and agreed to assist them with their petty little revenge plot. What do you have to gain from this, Vox? Getting rid of me for good? Being Charlie’s big hero when you swoop in to save the day?”
Vox’s smile widened knowingly, stretching far across the wall of screens. “Wouldn’t you like to know. And you will! Very shortly. Because you’re going to watch it all play out.”
One by one, each of the monitors began to change, displaying various images of the hotel. Vox’s spinning sclera was the last part of him to disappear, replaced by a view of the hotel’s front entrance, where Alastor could see Charlie talking to a few residents who were on their way out the door with their packed bags. This was live footage.
“Welp! Time for me to get ready for my big starring role in this shitshow!” came the television demon’s voice. “Oh, and Alastor? I’ll make sure to personally give Charlie my condolences when she hears what happened to you. I’m sure it won’t surprise her that her good-for-nothing boyfriend got out of dodge at the first sign of trouble.” He chuckled. “Just like last time, right? Only this time, you won’t be making it out alive.”
A flurry of expletives exploded from the radio demon’s mouth, but Vox was gone. He directed his rage at Bull, who glared just as murderously back at him. The angelic imposter approached him and gave each of his chains a tug to check they were secure, pulling extra hard on the one around his neck. Before taking his leave, Bull leaned in close. “Wherever you end up after this, tell my father and brother I said hello.”
“Tell them yourself when I send you there,” Alastor snarled back, his lips curling against his blackened gums.
The clank of metal against metal echoed in the now empty cave as Alastor thrashed wildly against his holy chains, screeching in frustration as they seared deeper into his raw, bloodied wounds. His desperate gaze flicked constantly to the wall of screens, needing to know that Charlie was alright, that he still had time to stop whatever was coming for her and the hotel. On the ground, lying tauntingly out of reach, was his microphone cane. He attempted to summon any bit of magic that he could muster, a limp tendril, a malformed shadowy minion, anything to close that distance. When that proved futile, his mind spun with other wild ideas. Chewing off his own limbs, sawing through his neck on its angelic steel manacles, tearing himself completely apart in the hopes that he could will himself back together fast enough to make it to the hotel in time. There had to be some way he could get himself free.
Centering himself with a deep, staticky breath, Alastor felt his immense power pulsing in his core, crackling and popping as he focused that frenetic energy into a single, resolute intention. With a cry of excruciating pain, he willed that power outwards, feeling his body begin to crack and expand into his full demon form. The angelic steel burned through his rapidly shifting flesh and grinded straight into his bone as he grew too large for their constraints. He could feel the magical stitches that held him together stretch to their limits, struggling to keep him in one piece as he ripped out of his holy bindings. Agony burst from his angelic wound as those stitches tore, his vision spotting with gold as he pushed past the pain. Then with a final herculean effort, the angelic steel chains shattered and he collapsed to the ground in an exhausted, bloody heap.
Struggling to his feet, rage coursing through him, Alastor’s first and only thought was of Charlie. Vox and Bull would wait. He had to get back to the hotel. Now.
Lungs burning, hooves pounding against concrete, tails of his coat flying behind him, Alastor ran most of the way back to the hotel. The overexertion of his powers had left him without his teleporting abilities and he cursed himself for neglecting his cardio in his afterlife.
Before he even saw the marquee lights peek over the hill, he heard the chaos that awaited him. Hotel guests frantically scrambled in and out of the front doors, bumping into each other with their overloaded luggage carts. A taxi sped by him as he sprinted up the hill, then screeched to a stop behind a line of other vehicles. They joined together in a cacophony of impatient honking as they waited for their passengers.
Alastor plunged into the throng, weaving through the panicked masses and their hastily packed belongings as he searched for the princess. “Charlie!” he called out, eyes sweeping across the chaotic scene. He spotted her near Dazzle’s statue, flipping through the pages on her clipboard as she spoke to several soon-to-be ex-residents.
The moment Charlie heard her name, her head snapped up. When her eyes locked with his, she dropped the clipboard in her hand.
“Alastor?!”
She didn’t hesitate, didn’t excuse herself from the conversation, didn’t even care when she knocked right into a teetering tower of suitcases. With unbridled urgency, she rushed towards him. They met in the middle of the bustling crowd and crashed into each other’s arms. Alastor pulled Charlie into an embrace so tight, it squeezed the air out of his own lungs. The stinging burns on his flesh, the brittle ache in his bones, the throbbing pain in his angelic wound, all of it faded into the overwhelming comfort of the princess nestled safely in his arms. He would never let her go again.
“I was so worried about you!” she cried. “I-I thought you… you… that Bull had…” Her voice cracked, the words catching in her throat as tears began to spill, blotting into the lapel of his jacket as she nuzzled into his chest. She pulled back just enough to cup his face in her hands. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Al.”
Before he could respond in kind, her lips met his in a kiss that was as desperate as it was tender. He could feel her fear, her guilt, her grief, all of it melting away in the sweet relief of their reconciliation. He reciprocated with equal passion, uncaring that this vulnerable, intimate moment was on display for the entire hotel to see.
She still held his face in her hands as she took in his appearance - his tattered clothes, his burned and bruised skin, the blood still seeping from his wounds. Fresh tears welled in her eyes as she ghosted her fingers across his gore-soaked chest. “What happened? Did Bull do this to you?”
“I’m fine, my dearest,” Alastor murmured, reaching out to stroke his thumb across her cheek and catch the tears before they fell. “I’ll explain everything.” Gingerly taking her hand, his gaze fell to the hastily wrapped bandage on her arm. The crimson stain seeping through the fabric sent a fresh wave of protective fury through him, but he kept his voice soft. “Are you alright?”
Charlie cradled the arm to her chest. “Y-Yeah, I…” Her bottom lip began to quiver and she bit down hard into it. A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another, and then the dam completely broke. Her shoulders wracked with sobs and she threw herself into the radio demon’s arms.
“Oh, Alastor, I’m so sorry!” she choked through her tears. “You were right. You’ve been right about everything! You told me Bull was bad news and I didn’t want to listen. I didn’t want to believe that one of our hotel guests could betray us like this. And now Peppy, Manny, Twunk… they’re all dead because of me. And you almost were too!” She pulled back, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed. “I’m just a stupid, delusional girl with stupid, delusional dreams who’s so desperate to see the good in people that she ignores all the bad. I trusted Bull when you warned me not to, I trusted Vox when you warned me not to, and look at where we ended up.” She sat on the edge of Dazzle’s statue, sinking her head into her hands as her tears spotted the ground beneath her. “This is all my fault!”
Alastor sat down next to her, his hand landing on her shoulder. "Darling, your dreams aren't stupid. Delusional? Mmm, maybe a tinge. But I think it's admirable you want to see the good in people, even when certain individuals don't deserve that kindness." He chuckled. "Heaven knows you should have given up on me a long time ago. And yet here I still am, because of your persistence."
Her expression softly slightly at the sentiment, then she let out a heavy sigh. “Bull was an angel this entire time. How did I never figure that out? This feels like Vaggie all over again, only so much worse.”
“It was a surprise to me as well,” Alastor admitted. “I was so convinced I knew who he really was that I ignored the clues that were right in front of me.” He tutted his tongue in disappointment with himself. “All this time, I had the wrong son.”
She nodded in understanding. “He’s Abel, isn’t he? Adam’s other son, the one who went to heaven. It all makes sense now. I overheard him talking to Lute about some plan to attack the hotel.”
“Vox is the real mastermind behind this,” Alastor spat angrily. “He thought he could goad a few rogue angels into attacking us just so he can stage some big, flashy PR stunt when he saves the day.” He shook his head, trying to dispel his personal feelings and focus on the bigger issue.
“No wonder he’s been so involved in this interdimensional trade deal.” Charlie clutched the sides of her head with a distressed bleat. “Oh, why did I end the tech embargo early?!”
“Heaven couldn’t have actually sanctioned an attack like this,” he assured her. “Surely you can just give them a ring and they’ll put the kibosh on this whole affair before any of their angry hornets can leave the nest.”
The princess frowned. “I’ve been trying to contact Vaggie and Emily all day but my calls aren’t going through. I can’t reach my dad either, he’s not answering any of my texts.” She swiped through her phone, showing him the last message she received from her father. It was from that morning.
UGHHH GOT STOOPID BILL FROM ERS!!! GOTTA SORT OUT SO THEY DON’T REPO MY CASTLE. BB LATE TONIGHT. CAN U ASK NIFFLES 2 LEAVE MY DIN IN MICROWAVE? THX CHAR LUV U!!! <3
Alastor hummed tersely, unsure if this was a fortunate or suspicious coincidence. "Your father is most certainly on their hitlist. Perhaps it’s a good thing he’s not here.”
Charlie hugged her arms to herself, hunching over as if she wanted to shrink so small, she disappeared. “I don’t know what to do, Alastor. We’re not prepared to fight this time and we have no clue what’s coming for us.” When she met his eyes, the look on her face was one of utter desolation and defeat, as if her very spirit had been irrevocably broken. “I brought another war to our doorstep and I don’t know how to stop it. Everyone here is going to die because of me."
“Charlie…” Alastor dropped to his knees in front of her. Gently, he took her hands in his. “You know I'll protect this place with everything I have.” He squeezed her hands tightly. “I won't tuck tail and run this time.”
She shook her head as more tears trickled down her cheeks. “I can't ask you to do that.”
“This is our home, darling,” he replied. “Whatever’s coming for us, we’ll face it together. Besides, I'll be out of a job as facilities manager if there's no facility left for me to manage!"
She smiled at that and Alastor felt a fiery swell of emotion, burning worse that his holy bindings had. Oh, how he had missed seeing such a sweet smile on her pretty face. He surged forward to kiss her.
“Now then!” He helped her to her feet, and summoning his microphone cane, placed it in her hands. With a sweep of his arm, he motioned to the mob of wayward sinners scurrying in and out of the hotel. “Why don’t you do what you do best.”
Alastor stood in his radio tower, the quiet of the night like a heavy tapestry draped over the hotel. The silence wouldn’t last for much longer, that he knew. This was just a fleeting moment to steel himself and gather a few things before he joined Charlie in monitoring the skies for the oncoming attack. Ever the inspiring speech-giver, she had rallied a modest troop of hotel guests to help protect the place. And without an armory of angelic weapons at their disposal, they had to get a bit creative with their defenses. He jiggled the box of doodads and thingamajigs he had gathered from around his radio tower, hoping it would be useful.
A strange sense of déjà vu overcame the radio demon. How different his intentions had been the first time he was in this position, when he had begrudgingly put his neck on the line just to gain Charlie’s trust. And as soon as things got tough, he had ducked out with a bigger wound to his pride than to his chest. But now? The thought of losing her was like an angelic steel shackle around his heart, suffocating, excruciating, terrifying, eclipsing any concern he had for himself. He would do anything – absolutely anything – to keep her safe.
Just as Alastor put his hand on the doorknob, he heard a crackle, something that could have been a sharp laugh or a popping log in the fireplace. His ears perked, unsure if the sound was in his own head or came from somewhere in the room.
Aaaalastor…
He froze, icy cold dread stiffening his spine. On the floor beneath him, he saw his shadow’s hollow eyes widen with fear. It hastily retreated to his person. Flames erupted in the fireplace, bathing his radio tower in an eerie green glow as the embers danced and flickered along the walls. Slowly he turned around and watched as the green flames took the form of a face – long, feminine, with wild hair under a wide-brimmed hat.
It was Roo, to whom he had sold his soul.
How have you been, Ally-pally? she purred, her voice crackling through the fire. It’s been so long since we caught up!
Static buzzed against the back of the radio demon’s clenched teeth, his smile pulled into a tight line. Of all the times for her to check in on him, it had to be tonight. “Can this wait?” he asked, trying to mask his annoyance. “I really don’t have time for y-”
He was cut off with a loud pop of feedback when a chain manifested around his neck, squeezing so tight that the words lodged in his throat. An invisible force yanked him violently forward and he skidded on the back of his heels as it dragged him towards the blazing fireplace. Dropping the box of trinkets in his hands, he yanked and pulled at the shortening chain as it strangled him.
I’m sorry, what was that? You think you don’t have TIME for me? Roo laughed, the shrill sound filling the room. All you HAVE is time for me.
“I-I’m sorry,” Alastor choked out, clawing at the constraints around his neck. “I-I just meant… I’m… I’m a little… preoccupied right now… y-you know… hotel business…”
Yeah, you’ve been pretty busy there, haven’t you? What’s it been now… almost two years? Makes me wonder if you forgot all about our deal.
“O-Of course I haven’t!” he quickly assured her. “T-These things… they… they take time. There’s just been a few, ah… complications.”
Complications? Within the flames, her mouth curved in a shrewd smile. Like you sticking your dick in Lucifer’s daughter?
“I-” It sounded like someone had ripped his vocal chords right from his throat. Utterly gobsmacked, Alastor didn’t know how to respond.
You don’t have to play coy with me, Alastor. I know you and the Morningstar princess have been fucking like horny little bunnies. At first, I thought it was part of your plan. A deliciously diabolical one at that! Never clocked you for the bed-them-and-betray-them type, but hey. Whatever gets the job done. Then when I realized you actually liked the little brat, I thought it was cute, watching you get all bricked up if she so much as batted an eyelash at you. You were pathetic, moaning her name into your pillow every night. Oh, Charlie… ohh, Charlie… ohhh, CHARLIE!!
The flames flared out around Roo as she threw her head back with a loud cackle. But when the fire receded, her expression snapped into something callous and unamused.
But now, I’m starting to get a bit annoyed. It seems to me like you have no intention of making good on our deal.
“T-That’s ridiculous!” Alastor’s voice cracked out of its filter, calling his bluff before he could even make it. “As I said, I just need more time-” The chain tightened around his neck and he fell to his knees in front of the fireplace.
Of which you’ve had plenty. Countless opportunities to complete the task you’ve been given. All of them wasted. Take tonight, for example. You didn’t even need to lift a finger! Could have just kicked up your hooves in that cave and let those angels do the dirty work for you. But you just had to be the princess’s knight-in-shining-armor, didn’t you?
A fiery hand crept up the chain link, drawing the radio demon closer.
This soft spot you have for Charlotte Morningstar has become a problem, Alastor.
Alastor stared into the flaming abyss of Roo’s eyes, the fire blistering hot against his face. His heart pounded hard in his chest as a terror he never felt before seized him. This wasn’t just about the blade over his own head swinging loose. He wasn’t the only one on the chopping block.
Charlie was in danger. Danger he had put her in. Danger he had foolishly thought he could just ignore. Danger he now realized he couldn’t protect her from.
“I… I…” For once in this life or the one before it, Alastor didn’t know how to talk himself out of this dire situation.
Then just as suddenly as the chain had appeared around his neck, it vanished. Roo gave a sing-songy hum as she tossed her flaming hair, sending a swirl of green embers into the air.
Tell you what, I’m feeling generous today. How about I make things easier for you?
Alastor struggled back to his feet with an uneasy sway, coughing as he rubbed his neck. "I-I'm not making another deal with you," he sputtered.
Not a new deal. An amendment to the one we already have.
He narrowed his eyes. “An amendment?”
When I tasked you with getting rid of the Morningstar family, I did have murder in mind. But then Lilith fucked off to heaven, and so long as she stays up there, I couldn’t give a shit about her. As for the princess? She was barely a threat to begin with. And with her doting demon beau to keep her in check, I’m sure she won’t cause me any trouble.”
“Y-Yes!” Alastor hastily assured her. “She won’t, you have my word.”
It’s Lucifer who’s been the worm in my apple all these years. That short-stacked, slithering, shit-for-brains seraphim. Thinking he can make his rings, wrangle his council of sins, and bring all this disgusting law and order down here. Ughhh! If I had blood, it would be boiling just thinking about him!
Roo’s sinister smile widened, severing her face like a sickled slash.
Kill him. And I’ll consider your debt paid.
Alastor took a step back. “If I just kill Lucifer, and only Lucifer, you’ll free me from our soul contract?”
You’ll have everything you want, Ally-pally. Power, freedom, and to live happily ever after with your beloved princess.
“And what will you have?”
What I’ve always wanted. Chaos.
A fiery hand snaked out of the flames, encircling the radio demon before offering a handshake.
So do we have a deal?
Alastor considered for only a moment before firmly grasping the hand and shaking it.
“Deal.”