Chapter Text
Hell had always been described in a particular way by humans: a dark, demon-filled chasm filled with fire and tortured screams of humanity’s Sinners. For the most part, that was true, and it may have been such in the beginning. But ever since arriving nearly a century ago, one, particular Sinner had only seen it as a growing metropolis beneath a crimson sky. Each day brought new souls to join in eternal damnation, and each decade brought new forms of modernization to Pentagram City, the unofficial capital of Hell’s Pride Ring. Television, ever-changing telephones that did far more than call people, and tunes that depended more on technology than actual instruments. All of this made Alastor’s stomach churn in disgust; especially seeing how much worse those formats had progressed in the past seven years he had been gone.
Clad in dapper red clothes from neck to hoof, the infamous Radio Demon strolled down the streets of Hell with his trademark smile and cane for all to see. He had yet to make a compelling comeback since returning to the city just hours earlier and had spent most of his time contemplating how to do it. It would be difficult to gain mass attention if he waited too long, what with Heaven’s Extermination Day coming within the hour. Not exactly the ideal timeframe for a performance, but it had not been his call to make. Of all the times Her Majesty could have picked, it had to be on the eve of Extermination Day, he thought, resisting the urge to tug at the incorporeal collar around his neck. Avoiding the onslaught of Heaven’s Exorcist army was nothing to be concerned about, he accomplished that since his first experience of the divine purge. That being said, if his deal was to be honored, and his own plans fulfilled, he would need to send a message Impactful enough to make up for his seven-year absence. Let’s see, how should I announce myself? Engage the angels? No, too risky and clearly not my style. Attack some old enemies, and maybe a few friends during the chaos? Not nearly flashy enough. No, no, no; this must be done right. What’s it going to take beyond my usual broadcasts to change the game? Decisions, decisions.
Whatever the plan would be, it would have to wait. Having been lost in his dark thoughts, the Radio Demon failed to realize how much time had passed until the foreboding chime of the city’s clock tower rang through his deer-like ears. Retaining his wicked smile, Alastor peered up at the sky, squinting in response and disgust towards the golden light shining on Hell. Within seconds, swarms of black and gray armored exorcists blotted out the heavenly rays and descended upon Pentagram City. War cries from the female angels overtook the screams of terror of the helpless, scrambling Sinners. “And so, the slaughter resumes.” he mused.
The thunder of fleeing footsteps shook the ground as Sinners ran in panic. Alastor simply shifted into the shadows to avoid any incoming stampedes and perched himself atop the roof of the nearest building. Seven years he had been gone, and the angels’ carnage was as brutal as it had been when he left. There was no difference in this extermination compared to all the others he observed. The weakest, smallest, and newest demons fled in terror as they tried to hide from the exorcists’ spears and terrifying masks. The more foolish Sinners, along with the occasional courageous muscle-head tried to fight back only to be skewered and ripped apart by the unkillable killers. As for the Sinners who either experienced their fair share of Extermination Days, or had enough sense to think first, fled more discreetly. It was mildly entertaining to watch so many Sinners act in desperation to avoid dying a second time. Perhaps he would find a secluded place to observe the next twenty-four hours over a nice, bitter cup of coffee.
“Ah~” he exhaled in content, “Screams of terror, the scent of freshly spilled blood and entrails, the rumbling of falling footsteps and lifeless bodies dropping to the ground. I’ve been without these sensations for seven years. How I’ve missed them, so. If only it were possible for our angelic guests to share in experiencing such stimuli for their senses. Let’s see if I can be provided with some inspiration for my grand return.”
In an unnoticeable streak of black, Alastor scurried through the city as a shadow over buildings both intact and fallen, and even the fallen bodies of his fellow Sinners. It became difficult to determine where he was before long. Given how exterminations, turf wars, and random acts of destruction caused so much damage to the city’s layout, not too many landmarks could be recognized. There was no place in particular Alastor intended to visit amidst Heaven’s attack, so it did not matter where he was going. What did matter, however, was the familiar voice he heard through the shadows.
“Heh, heh, nononono!” he heard over desperate scratching in an alley he was about to pass. Through the shade, he was able to see a trio of spear-wielding angels corner a familiar demon who was trying to claw her way through the ground.
“Aw, how cute! The little, one-eyed freak is trying to get away.” One of the angels mocked before kicking the demon off the ground and into the nearest wall. Having knocked over a pair of rusty garbage cans, the Sinner grabbed one of Hell’s many discarded syringes and made a desperate, albeit pointless, attempt to stab her attackers.
“Are you for real, bitch?” Another angel asked, not even fazed when the Sinner jabbed the now bent needle at her leg. “You really thought that would work? Don’t you know who we are?”
“Oh, I doubt she’s forgotten.” Alastor said, having risen from the shadows behind them, “But given the circumstances, you can’t really blame the poor dear for giving one last hurrah.” The black, intimidating masks of the angels gave baffled looks towards the smiling demon daring to interrupt their holy mission/fun. The little demon’s face, on the other hand, lit up with a smile and tear pooling in her large, singular eye.
“Alastor!” she cried in rejoice.
“Dry those tears, Niffty darling. This will be over soon.” Alastor assured, smiling with confident cruelty.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Alastor, pleasure to make your acquaintance, ladies, quite a pleasure. You may know me as the Radio Demon. I’m afraid you’ll have to slate your bloodlust on some other Sinner. That one belongs to me.” he claimed, the static of his signature radio-voice emphasizing his warning.
“Fuck you, Sinner! We’ll kill whoever the fuck we want down here!”
“My, my, quite the mouth you have! To think, so many children have had their knuckles struck by nuns and Sunday school teachers for snickering at naughty jokes, and yet the angels they revere use such crass language. Quite the irony!”
“Is this guy for real?” One of the other angels asked her sister in disbelief.
“Quite!” he said, stamping the tip of his microphone-like cane into the ground, “And no, you will not be killing whomever you wish, today. Anyone unaffiliated with me is all yours. But Niffty? She’s off limits.”
Laughing at his defiance, the trio of angels focused their attention solely on the red demon giving Niffty the chance to hide behind nearby garbage cans. “Is that supposed to be some kind of a threat? What can you, a filthy Sinner, do to us?” she asked, rising from the ground with her two sisters.
“If you’re implying that I’m under the impression I can kill you, you’re mistaken, my dear.” Alastor corrected, taking a moment to clean his scarlet monocle, “I’m aware that’s not possible. However, it should be noted that, as far as anyone is aware of, that is your only immunity. Other inflictions I can cause such as pain, humiliation, or tossing you all away like pairs of socks are undetermined. I don’t think anyone has been able to give those a whirl.” Black tendrils of shadow and magic began to creep off the walls of the alleyway and reach to coil around the exorcists’ wrists, ankles, and torsos. “Let’s find out, sHaLl wE?”
With his distorted radio filter startling the angels, the tentacles Alastor had summoned snatched each exorcist from the air and introduced them to pain. Unable to fight or fly, all three of Heaven’s soldiers were strangled, squeezed, and thrashed all while their tormentor cackled in demented entertainment. Nothing he could do would kill them, he knew fully well, but Heaven needed to be reminded of the same lesson he would soon reiterate to Hell: no one touches what belongs to the Radio Demon. Growing tired of toying with them, Alastor slammed them all together, merging his shadows into a balled-up knot and pitched the three women into the air. When it was clear none of them were flying back for revenge, and no other exorcist was taking their place, Alastor dismissed his shadows and straightened out his coat as he settled his sadistic jitters. Before he could finish pivoting to turn, he nearly stumbled when he felt Niffty’s small body clinging to his long legs.
“Alastor!” she wailed, soaking his pants with her watery eye. Despite the age she had been when she died, and how long she had been in Hell, Niffty always retained a child-like disposition when her psychotic nature did not take over. It was endearing for the older Sinner and was one of the reasons why he was so protective of the girl.
“Hello, dear one.” he said, using a softer tone rarely heard by anyone else. Even though someone else’s touch usually repulsed him, Niffty was an exception to a certain degree. Gently grasping her by her collar, Alastor raised the little cyclops and hugged her against his chest as she wept.
“Wh-where have you been?! Why haven’t you come to see me?” she said through her hitching breath and sniffles. “I thought I’d never see you again!”
“Nowhere you need to concern yourself with, my dear.” he said, summoning a red handkerchief to dab at the corners of her eye. “But I’ve returned, and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. Now, why are you out here in the open? You know those angels don’t spare anyone they see.”
Rubbing the damp streaks on her little face, Niffty did her best to explain. “The hideout I was in exploded during the attack. Someone tried to blow up the angels with a rocket, or something, and blew up where we were hiding. Then those angels flew in and started killing everybody; there was so much blood, and not in a fun way!”
Niffty being shell-shocked by death and blood was a surprise to be sure. Carnage was usually the best way to get her jollies, especially when it involved insects. Perhaps she went through this on every Extermination Day since he left. Before his departure, he always made sure she stayed by his side as Heaven enacted its purge of Hell. Nevertheless, his psychotic “employee” was clearly shaken, and unprotected. His grandiose return would have to wait. “I see. Well then, come along, my dear. Best not to wait for those heavenly harpies to come back.”
“Where are we going, sir?”
“Someplace with a view, preferably.” he replied, setting her scrawny legs back on the ground. Keeping Niffty safe proved to be easier than Alastor expected. Whatever chaotic Impulse she would normally express was overwhelmed by her fear of the angels’ onslaught. No one had seemed to notice the tall demon and his thrall as they avoided the falling buildings, debris and angels, and he intended to keep it that way. No one could know of his return just yet. Timing and delivery were crucial to any performance, and the Radio Demon always strove to be one hell of a performer for his audience. Hours passed as the purge continued throughout Pentagram City. Niffty kept herself preoccupied by stabbing bugs in the abandoned apartment Alastor brought them to. Screams and destruction continued to flood the air as Alastor peered at the city through the filthy window shades. Even with buildings being, or already, destroyed amidst the chaos, many newer structures could be seen and told Alastor what had become predominant in Hell during his absence. They all symbolized powers he could challenge and crush along the path he intended to pave for himself. Ironically, Hell seemed to provide more opportunities for the cannibalistic showman than life ever did. Once the clocktower signaled the end of the extermination, he would sink his teeth into the wounds it left behind.
With his smile turning into a predatory grin, the Radio Demon flooded his mind with strategies that would elevate him. Most of them were plans to free himself of the deal he made prior to his return, but the rest were adjustable schemes for later. The only thing that brought him from those thoughts was the oversized needle thrown like a dart to impale a cockroach scurrying along the window frame. “What’cha looking at, Alastor?” Niffty asked, having latched herself on to the back of his crimson head to retrieve her utensil.
“Opportunity, my dear Niffty. Hell is positively ripe with it.” he replied as he removed her from his cranium. “A neglectful king, an absent queen, and overlords too easy to topple and replace. There’s nothing to keep a Sinner like me from creating entertainment for myself. Hell is going to change very drastically very soon, my dear. And I intend to be the harbinger of that change.”
“How are you going to do it?” she asked with a smile as crazed as her master’s.
“Not sure just yet. But I can feel the answer approaching. It’s like the anticipation of a sunrise, or the anxiety for a bolt of lightning.” With only one hour remaining before the angels would return to Heaven, Alastor decided to resume his pursuit of inspiration. “I trust you’ll remain out of the exorcists’ sights for the rest of the day, yes?”
“Yeah! I’m not going anywhere.” nodded Niffty before her iris madly dilated towards another cockroach, “There’s still more bugs to play with. Hehehe!”
“And I’m sure you’ll bring a swift end to them all.” he nodded as his shadow opened the door for him. “Don’t forget the chimney. They’ll have cowered up there to escape your wrath.”
“Ooh! Good idea!” Niffty squealed before scrambling up the shaft like the insects she was hunting.
“Sweet girl,” he thought as he left the building, “Crazy as kook, but sweet.”
“Sir?” a voice as staticky as his own spoke up. Glancing down, Alastor acknowledged the glowing, darting eye centered in his microphone and raised it below his chin. It was rare for the device to speak, or even “awaken” as it was scarce to do. Despite being in possession of it for nearly all his afterlife, Alastor could not remember if it was a Sinner like himself, an extension of his subconscious voiced through the mic, or some third variable he was unaware of.
Whatever it was, he responded. “What is it?”
“Have you come up with a plan, yet?”
“Indeed, I have. Last time we tried this, the toppling of useless overlords and collection of souls worked as well as it could. But this time, we’re going to take a page from their books and acquire some territories of our own.”
“Really? But you hate relying on others.”
“Oh, I do! I really do.” he growled as his antlers briefly grew in anger before reducing back. “But for what I have in mind, there are certain overlords I need to dispose of. And if they’re still alive and in power, which I’m sure they are, I need to keep their focus on what those under my command are doing more than what I am doing.” Heaven’s holy light suddenly lit the crimson sky of Hell once again, signaling the departure of the exorcists and the end of Extermination Day. “Like moths to a flame. If only they could be burned by their own holy light. In any case, we’ll need to establish whom among my contracted is still suffering down here and determine which territories to strike first. I had planned to carry out similar exploits seven years ago, so it should only take a few tweaks here and there. All I need is a good look at the board and I’ll assemble my pieces to renew the game.”
A smile as diabolical as his plans overtook the Radio Demon’s face as excitement overwhelmed him. Everything else faded around him as he imagined his empire taking place of the ruins he walked through. Hell would soon submit to a new ruler, and Alastor would be the one to pull their strings. It took a moment to realize he was slowly shifting into his full-demonic form, so he snapped out of his daydream to restore his typical appearance. Just as he did, amidst the hush over Hell, the light of Heaven faded and a single voice rang through the air, causing his pointed ears to twitch. It was a melody so soft he thought he had discovered the sound of a cloud; beautiful and somber enough to give even him pause.
At the end of the rainbow there’s happiness
And to find it how often I’ve tried~
But my life is a race
Just a wild goose chase
And my dreams have all been denied~
“Sir?” the microphone asked, its one eye taking notice of how entranced its owner was.
Why have I always been a failure?
What can the reason be?
I wonder if the world’s to blame
I wonder if it could be me~
Refusing to acknowledge any sound other than the singing, Alastor ignored his trademark accessory and shifted into the shadows, searching for the source of the elegant song. It was close, that much he could tell. But his animal-like sense of hearing could determine the singing was coming from inside a nearby building. He had to find it. To see who or what was responsible for such a melody. It started out original, but then became a song he heard once, maybe twice, when he was alive but never in a tone such as this. Chopin’s Fantasy Impromptu, with just a few lyrics altered to suit the heart of the singer.
I’m always chasing rainbows
Watching clouds drifting by
My schemes are just like all my dreams
Ending in the sky~!
It was then, from the balcony of the Heaven Embassy, the singing grew louder as its creator revealed herself. Taking cover on a rooftop three stories lower than the balcony, Alastor could see a single demon, a woman, send a whistling streak of sparks into the sky that exploded into bursts of fireworks. The moment the colors illuminated the city, all the surviving Sinners left whatever shelter they were cooped up in and went about their day as if nothing happened. They did not matter to Alastor; he kept his gaze on the woman who gave the signal. He caught a glimpse at her face when the sparks erupted from her slender finger. Her long hair draped over her shoulders like a cloak due to her posture and lowered head.
Some fellows look and find the sunshine
I always look and find the rain
Some fellows make a winning sometimes
I never even make a gain
Believe me!
With the wind blowing in his direction, and her attention turning towards the clock tower behind him, the face of the singer was in full view, as well as the tears streaming down her porcelain face and rosy cheeks. Her golden hair wrapped around her and the pink…jacket? Cardigan? Whichever. Even with heartbreak and anguish being the only emotions on her face, her beauty was undeniable, even for someone like Alastor.
I’m always chasing rainbows~
Waiting to find a little bluebird
In vain~
He could have stood there for hours, slack jawed and wearing a smile so small it could have been considered dropped. He probably would have had it not been for the lady’s teardrop getting caught in the breeze and landing on his pale cheek. It was enough to snap him out of his daze long enough to wipe it with his claw-tipped glove before staring at it in silence. “Sir? Sir!” the microphone all but shouted, but Alastor ignored it. Or rather, he could not hear it over the pounding noise rattling his body. Was it another fleeing mob? Was the building starting to collapse? No, something worse. Oh, God! My heart?! He inwardly screamed in panic. The blasted thing had not pounded like that since…ever! Not even the thrill of his first murder made it beat in such a rhythm, and that was a personal favorite of his! “Fuck me; I need to get out of here!” he cursed as he left the rooftop.
Thoughts consumed him as he crept through the city via shadows. Never, not in life or death, had anyone, let alone a woman he did not even know, elicited such a reaction to the deer Sinner. The closest sensation he could think of was the love he felt when his beloved mother showered him in unconditional love as a boy. But this woman, this proverbial, or even actual, siren was overtaking his mind. Half of the schemes he had been pondering over earlier had been forgotten in place of memorizing every detail of her face and voice. Not even the noise of nearby explosions and diabolical laughter could take his mind off her. Who was she? Why was she singing from the Heaven Embassy? Was she marr-NO! He would not go there. Such musings had no place in his plans for self-liberation followed by ruling all of Hell. It took another hour or two of scurrying through the shades of Hell before he was finally able to put his ponderings off to the side. He had yet to devise a suitable demonstration of his return to Hell, but the amount of time he had spent thinking about the songstress left him worried. He scarcely noticed he wandered near the edge of the Vees’ territory in the center pentagon of the city. “Dear lord, he’s made things even tackier than before.” said Alastor as he observed his surroundings.
More than familiar with their work, Alastor was able to recognize the updated style of his old acquaintance’s medium and the influence his new partners had on it. Televisions, computers, televisions, various other machines and technology, and more televisions could be found in all shapes and sizes throughout the area. No technology made past the 1930s on Earth appealed to the Radio Demon, especially not television. Even though the first mind-numbing box had been invented and demonstrated before the Great Depression, Alastor thought it was an overrated waste of money and an insult to the art of radio broadcasting. That, and they were also guaranteed to rot a person’s brain. After Sinners began to recreate the infernal machines as the decades passed, he could practically smell the erosion in their skulls increase as new versions kept arriving. Case in point, every window displaying various TVs had crowds of Sinners staring mindlessly at the screens.
Rising from the confines of his shadow, Alastor’s smile turned malicious as he peered up at the towering headquarters of VoxTex, the industry his old friend started from the underground up. “Seems to have gotten bigger since last time.” he observed, strumming his claws atop the hood of his microphone. “I wonder if I should start there?”
Before any decision could be made, the volume of a nearby group of TVs reverberated in his red deer ears. “Coming up next, we have an exclusive interview with the daughter of Hell’s head honcho, Princess Charlote Morningstar, who’s here to discuss her new passion project.” The voice of a woman reported over the sound of…painful whimpering?
“The princess?” Alastor muttered in curiosity. He was aware Lucifer and Lilith, the rulers of Hell, had a daughter, just as all Sinners knew. But the young heir to the throne was considered even more of an enigma than he was. She was rarely seen in public and never seen at all in any political matters expected of Hell’s heir to attend to. This was likely one of the various reasons many of the Pride Ring’s older denizens held no fear or respect for her as they did her parents. To hear she was going to make an appearance like this piqued the attention of everyone nearby, including Alastor. By the time he joined in the back of a crowd of observers, masking his presence as best he could, the interview began. To the right, the ever shrill and obnoxious news anchor, Katie Killjoy, smiled wickedly at the camera with rigid posture. Alastor knew she constantly maintained this due to the fact she had been killed by someone breaking her neck in life, resulting in her oversized head constantly needing to be balanced on her spinal cord. The harpy offered her employment to him once, but quickly retracted it when he informed her no cameras would be present during his shows. To the left of the screen, however, was the same face Alastor unintentionally committed to memory from earlier.
“That was the princess?!” he screamed in his mind, unaware his own shadow was looking back and forth between its owner and the screen with worry. A fly could have landed on his eyeballs and it would have done nothing to break his gaze at the screens in front of him as he stared at the girl’s nervous smile.
“Welcome back! So, Charlotte,” Killjoy greeted with false enthusiasm and grinding teeth.
“It’s Charlie, actually.” The young royal gently corrected.
“Whatever,” Killjoy dismissed, clutching and clicking a red pen in a poor attempt to relieve her obvious anger, “Tell us about this new ‘passion project’ you’ve been insistingly pestering our news station about!”
Scrunching against the table as the reporter seethed over her, the blonde princess struggled to compose herself for a moment before speaking. “Well, as most of you know I was born here in Hell and growing up here I’ve always tried to see the good in everything around me.” She said with sincerity, even as Katie Killjoy mercilessly stabbed a random maggot on the table, causing its innards to splatter against the princess’s doll-like face. Annoyed, but unwavering as she wiped the splash away, she continued to speak. “Hell is my home, and you all are my people. We just went through another extermination and lost so many souls. It breaks my heart to see my people slaughtered every year and no one is even given a chance. I can’t stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such violence. Sooo~ I’ve been thinking: isn’t there a more humane way to handle overpopulation here in Hell? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change souls through…redemption? Well, I think yes! So that’s what this project of mine aims to achieve. Ladies and gentlemen, I’m opening the first of its kind; a hotel that rehabilitates Sinners!”
Stunned, or baffled in this case, silence filled the air as everyone aware of the girl’s declaration processed her announcement. Despite the enthusiasm and slight confidence she expressed, the lack of a reaction caused her to deflate. It became difficult to completely understand her weak explanation as the viewers began to snicker, question and mock the girl’s idea.
“Is this bitch for real?!” A female foxlike demon laughed.
“A fucking hotel?! What kind of rehab is that?!” Another Sinner, resembling a scary jester questioned rhetorically.
“Hey, if that bimbo and her staff dress up in cute maid outfits, I’ll check in!”
At that last remark, Alastor instinctively stomped his cane into the pavement, letting out an ear-piercing acoustic screech, frightening everyone as they turned their heads to see who caused the sound. Ironically standing near tattered and worn posters of himself against a nearby wall, Alastor smiled threateningly at them all as he gave them a warning. “Some of us are trying to listen; thank you.” he said, his radio filter increasing for emphasis.
With the irritating chatter dismissed, the princess’s uncertain voice was much easier to hear; although, the sound of someone insulting her followed by that person being punched was noticeable as the camera feed temporarily turned at a tilted angle. “Look, every single one of you has something good deep down inside. I know you do.” she exhaled in dejection before perking up and standing on the table, “Maybe I’m not getting through to you this way.” With a snap of her fingers, the studio lights briefly shut down before restarting with a spotlight on the princess atop…a piano? With a pair of winged…red goat creatures…in tailcoats?
“This looks interesting.” Alastor mused before the beauty began to sing with vigorous confidence.
I have a dream,
I’m here to tell
About a wonderful, fantastic new hotel
Yes, it’s one of a kind, right here in Hell
Catering to a specific clientele~
(Oooh-ooh-ooh~)
Inside of every demon is a rainbow!
Inside every Sinner is a shiny smile!
Inside of every creepy hatchet-wielding maniac,
Is a jolly, cupcake-loving child!
We can turn them ‘round!
They’ll be Heaven-bound!
With just a little time down at the Happy Hotel!
So, all you junkies, freaks, and weirdos,
Creepers, fuckups, crooks, and zeroes,
And downfallen superheroes, hope is here!
All of you cretins, sluts, and losers,
Sexual deviants and boozers
And prescription drug abusers
Need not fear!
Forever again
We’ll cure your sin
We’ll make you well, you’ll feel so swell
Right here in Hell, at the Happy Hotel!
There’ll be no more fire,
And no more screams
Just puppy dog kisses, and cotton candy dreams
And puffy-wuffy clouds, you’re gonna be like
“Wow!”
Once you check in with meeeee~!
Most likely through magic, the princess had created various visual effects to add flare as she sang. Despite how ludicrous the message was, she was an outstanding singer and continued to prove this as she carried on.
So, all your cartoon porn addictions,
Vegan rants, psychic predictions,
Ancient Roman crucifixions
End right here!
All you monsters, thieves, and crazies
Cannibals and crying babies,
Frothing mouthers full of rabies,
Filled with cheer!
You’ll be complete!
It’ll be so neat!
Our service can’t be beat!
You’ll be on easy street (Yes!)
Life will be sweet at the Happy Hotel~!
Yeah!
If the Sinners observing the performance had been stunned silent before, their current reaction could have been considered silent as the grave. No one, not even Katie Killjoy and her gasmask-wearing co-anchor could make a sound while the princess of Hell was catching her breath atop the desk she was sharing. It took someone behind the camera breaking the silence with an insult to ignite the studio-wide, and city-wide, uproar of laughter as the princess returned to her seat in humiliation. For whatever reason, seeing this girl, Princess Charlotte, suffer such ridicule made the Radio Demon’s ever-present smile tighten with white-hot anger.
“What in all the rings of Hell makes you think a single Sinner would give two shits about becoming a better person?!” Killjoy asked through her demeaning laughter as the princess avoided eye-contact. “And what are you even basing this on? You have no proof this little experiment of yours will even work! You want people to be good just because?!”
“Well, if you must know, we have a patron, already, who believes in our cause and has shown real progress!” Charlie retorted with a smirk of her own.
“Oh? And who might that be?”
The princess examined her nails as if they were more Important that the head-tilting shrew. “Oh, just somebody named…Angel Dust!”
“The porn star?” The mask wearing anchor asked in doubletake.
“You, fucking, would, Tom.” Killjoy seethed at her now sweating colleague, “In any case, that means nothing. Anyone could get that skank to do anything for them if they had enough cash, booger-sugar, ball-gags, and lube.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.” Charlie challenged, “Since checking in, Angel’s been clean, well-behaved, and out of trouble for two weeks.”
It was easy to tell when someone was lying; there was always some sort of physical or audible indication even masters could not fully dismiss. As far as Alastor could tell, the naïve girl was convinced of this until the following news alert seconds later revealing footage of her feminine-looking guest participating in an on-going turf war on the other side of town. Everyone, on and off camera, was laughing at the cruel irony as the princess attempted to block out the green screen. Unfortunately, it did nothing to keep viewers from watching the spider-looking Sinner from laughing and enjoying himself as he fired a Tommy Gun at dozens of…egg creatures in matching uniforms.
“So, Charlotte,” Killjoy taunted as she towered over the frantic heiress, “Seeing as your project is already dead on arrival, tell us how it feels to be a total failure!”
Instead of sulking, crying, or even walking away, the princess chose to retaliate with the first idea that popped into her head. Snatching the woman’s pen while she cackled, Charlie said, “Yeah well, tell me how it feels that I’ve got your pen…BITCH!”
Following a hush from everyone in the studio, the shrill reporter unleashed a hideous insect hiss as two extra pairs of arms tore through her blazer before lunging at the devil’s daughter. By this point, Alastor was finally joining in on the laughter as he watched both women grab and beat each other on live television. Despite his decades of disdain for the medium, he had finally witnessed what people liked to call “good television.” Even the pair of goat creatures dive-bombed to save their mistress, only to miss and start shredding their fangs and claws through the clothing and flesh of the other anchor. It had to have been the funniest thing he had ever seen, especially when, off camera, one or both mutants set the poor chap on fire, causing him to wail in agony as he searched for assistance or a bucket of water. Neither lady stopped their brawl as chaos and screams flooded the studio.
“Why won’t anyone help me?!” The poor bastard cried as the flames consumed him.
Alastor just continued to laugh his antlers off, disturbing the Sinners around him with how creepy and macabre it sounded. Even after the feed was finally cut off before a winner was decided, he continued to laugh and clutch his stomach while the other viewers began to disperse. “She is wonderfully fantastic!” he exclaimed while struggling to breathe.
Off to the side, he could hear a pair of Sinners from the crowd chatting as they walked away. “That was supposed to be Lucifer’s daughter? The freaking Anti-Christ?!”
“Guess all those priests and nuns topside got nothing to worry about. Especially since she’s wanting to get all of us into Heaven just so we can experience all them ‘puppy-dog kisses and cotton candy dreams!’ What a dumbass! Do we even have hotels down here?”
“You know, I actually saw that place the other day.”
“For real?!”
“Yeah. Had some kind of movie theatre sign or something when I got close to it. Looked like a pirate ship was sticking out.”
“Why the fuck would you go there?”
“Thought it was some kind of sex-motel. How was I supposed to know what the ‘happy’ part of the name meant?”
Before either of them could continue walking and talking, the crimson overlord appeared before them, freezing their blood with his wicked smile. “This hotel you gentlemen were speaking of; would you happen to know the way to get there from here?” They gave no response. “Come now, chaps, it’s insulting not to answer a man when he asks for directions. You don’t want to offend me, dO yOu?” he asked, increasing the static in his filter and changing the shade of his eyes to intimidate them.
Wisely, they did not offend the overlord and gladly provided him with directions to reach the hotel. Choosing to walk rather than shadow travel, Alastor replayed the princess’s jolly tune by humming. It was a far cry from the rhythm and groove he enjoyed, and that usually repulsed the serial killer, but he found it enjoyable, nonetheless. Having walked for over an hour, terrifying every passing soul who recognized him, the grand, neon sign of the princess’s hotel came within view.
“Sir?” the microphone questioned once again, only to continue being ignored, “Sir, I think we’ve strayed away from the plan long enough. Shouldn’t we discuss how to kick things off?”
“The plan has changed, my friend.” Alastor finally acknowledged.
“In…what way?”
“In every way!” he replied jovially.
“P-pardon?!”
“That girl, the princess! In one day alone, she’s proven to be unlike any other being I’ve ever seen. I must find her. I cannot explain it; it’s some sort of compelling force taking over my entire soul. The endless possibilities of entertainment and chaos such a silly place could bring, haha! There’s no other place in all of Hell I’d rather be.”
By the time he was within ten yards of the hotel’s entrance, he could see the woman who had plagued his thoughts all day. No longer wearing her pink coat, she was slumped against the stained-glass windows holding one of those strange rectangles passing as telephones up to her ear. He was unsure how long she had been speaking, but he began to hear what he assumed was the end of her conversation. “The interview didn’t go well, and…I don’t know if I’m going to make a difference. I don’t know what I’m doing, Mom, and I could really use some advice. I…I think Dad might be right about me and the hotel. Ugh, anyway, I’ll stop talking before this gets too long. Love you, bye.” He heard her say while wiping away stray tears and heading inside.
“So, the king and queen aren’t onboard with their daughter’s mission, eh? Perhaps a little kindness from a stranger is what the poor girl needs right now.” Alastor grinned before slinking up to the front door. Taking a moment to straighten his hair and coat, the demon thumped the back of his fist against the door with befitting stained glass apple designs. Giving his best version of a warm smile, Alastor raised his clawed finger as he began to greet the flabbergasted princess. “Hel-” he said before she slammed the door in his face. It was, literally, one second before she opened the door again wearing a dumbfounded expression. “Lo,” he tried to finish before she closed the door again.
“Hey, Vaggie!” he heard her nervously holler through the wood.
“What?” Another woman griped.
“The Radio Demon is at the door!”
“What?!”
“What should I do?!”
“Well, don’t let him in!”
He remained perfectly still, his claw raised as he patiently waited for the young woman to open the door and relieve his anxiety. Muffled footsteps could be heard before his silent plea was answered. “May I speak, now?” he asked politely.
“You may,” she nodded.
That was all Alastor needed to hear before shooting his hand in greeting as he let himself in. Unfamiliar excitement coursed through him as he was finally speaking to the lady who he had been thinking of throughout the day. “Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart! Quite a pleasure!” he said with loud enthusiasm, “Excuse my sudden visit, but I saw your fiasco on the picture show, and I just couldn’t resist stopping by. What a performance! Why, I haven’t been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929! Hahaha! Sooo many orphans!”
“That’s far enough!” he heard as another woman, the owner of the previous voice he heard, halted him at spearpoint to his throat. Raising his eyes past the weapon’s tip, Alastor locked eyes with another Sinner, dressed in mismatched clothes, stockings, an eyepatch and red bow tied in her body-length hair. Clearly, she believed cursing him in what he recognized as Spanish, and pressing a weapon to his neck was enough to scare him off. Oh, the hilarity of this place was unending. “I know who you are and how you operate. And if you think I’m going to let you hurt anyone here, you’ve got another thing coming, you cheesy, pompous, talk-show, shit-lord!”
How adorable, he thought as he pushed the spear away with his fingertip. “Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here,” he chuckled before distorting his voice and changing his eyes to radio dials as a more than generous warning, “I WoULd hAvE dOne sO, AlrEaDy! No! I’m here because I want to help!”
Baffled at his proclamation, the two women, and the spider-whore mentioned on the news cast standing in the background, looked at the overlord in confusion. “Say what now?” Charlie bluntly asked.
“Help!” Alastor laughed as he raised and tapped his microphone, “Haha! Hello, is this thing on? Testing, testing!”
“Well, I heard you loud and clear!” it replied, rolling its only eye.
“You want to help with…?” Charlie asked as he slinked behind her and the Impolite girl, Vaggie, he recalled her being addressed, through the shadows.
“This ridiculous idea of yours; this hotel! I want to help you run it.”
Unconvinced, she asked the obvious. “But…why?”
Laughing in response, he gave half the truth as his response. “Why does anyone do anything, dear? Sheer, absolute BOREDOM!” he exclaimed before resting his arm atop the other girl’s head and shoving her away as payback for daring to threaten him earlier. “I’ve lacked inspiration for years! My work’s become mundane, aimless. I’ve come to crave a new form of entertainment, hahaha! And that performance you gave today was exactly what I’ve been looking for.”
“You think getting into a fistfight with a reporter is entertainment?” she asked, sheepishly smiling over her earlier scuffle.
“It’s the best kind there is, my dear; reality! True passion! After all, the world is a stage; and the stage is a world of entertainment.”
Looking up with hope, the princess asked, “So, does this mean you think it’s possible to rehabilitate a demon, too?”
“Haha! Why of course not!” he laughed, unfazed by her deadpanned expression, “That’s just wacky nonsense! Redemption; oh, the non-existent humanity! No, no, no. I don’t think there’s anything that can save such loathsome Sinners. The chance given was the lives they lived before, and the punishment is this! There is no undoing what’s been done.” This was the honest truth to Alastor. After everything he experienced in life, and what he experienced so far in death, there was more than enough evidence to discredit anyone sentenced to Hell being allowed through Heaven’s pearly gates. Still, the notion was unique enough to amuse him to the point of participation.
“But why do you want to help me if you don’t believe in my cause?” Charlie asked in confusion.
“Oh, just consider this an…investment. A way for me to be entertained as I help you try to prove your beliefs.” he replied, once again giving only half the truth as he twirled her around brought her in close, “I want to watch as the scum of the world struggle as they climb up the hill of betterment only to trip and tumble down into the fiery pit of failure.”
“…Right…” Charlie trailed, put off by the demon’s twisted sense of humor.
“Yes, indeedy! I see big things coming your way, and who better to help you than I?” he asked, speaking over the moth-looking girl giving a recount of all his misdeeds to their arachnid guest. “With my skills and resources, this whole hotel will be flooded with wayward souls clambering for salvation like rats to festering cheese.”
“Is that your way of saying you want to save them, or kill them?” Charlie asked in concern.
“Haha! Whichever mood I find myself in, darling.” he teased, “Furthermore, it’s clear from that unanimous reaction to your presentation at the studio that most of Hell doesn’t give you the respect befitting its crown princess and future queen. So, unless your friend whispering about me over there has more than one spear at her disposal, wouldn’t you agree it’s beneficial to have an overlord as infamous and influential as I to ward off anyone who poses a threat? I can guarantee you, none of my colleagues would ever grant you an offer as generous as mine.”
“I suppose.” Charlie trailed off, remaining unsure.
I’ve already got her, he thought victoriously. “Take a moment to think it over. It is a rather big decision. I’ll just wait over there as you consult with your associates.” There was no reason to worry about rejection. Alastor knew the princess believed his offer was the best she was ever going to receive from anyone beneath her father on the hierarchy of Hell. The only other overlord who would come remotely close to assisting the poor girl was his dearest friend, Rosie, but even she kept her contracted and territory’s interests’ top priority. Furthermore, being one of the most legendary overlords in the history of Hell provided more than just intimidation for her to use. If she could convince Sinners that someone like him was invested in redeeming souls, it would boost the appeal of the hotel. Nothing, not even the warranted concerns the moth-girl was stressing to her companion would dissuade something as significant as that.
“Hmm,” he murmured as he examined a family portrait of the princess and her parents, “Seems she takes after more of the queen than her father.”
Off to the side, Vaggie was desperately trying to convince her friend to refuse the overlord’s offer and get rid of him immediately. “Charlie, listen to me, please. You can’t believe this creep. He isn’t just a happy face. He’s a dealmaker; someone who owns souls, not helps them. He can’t be redeemed. And he’s more than likely planning to destroy everything we’re trying to do.”
“I…we don’t know that, Vaggie. Look, I know he’s bad and probably doesn’t want to change, but the whole point of the hotel is to give people a chance. And maybe he’ll change his mind as we start to make progress. How can I turn him away when I’m letting everyone in? I can’t. It goes against everything I’m working towards and believe in. Trust me, I can handle him if he tries anything.”
Still unconvinced it was a good idea, the moth girl gave one last glance and plea. “Okay. But whatever you do, do NOT make a deal with him.”
“Don’t worry! Like my dad always says, ‘you don’t take shit from other demons!’” Charlie assured as she strode up to her uninvited guest. “Okay, so, Al, you’re sketchy as fuck and clearly sees that everything I’m doing here is a joke. But I don’t. I genuinely believe everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better. So, I’m accepting your offer…on the condition that there be no trickster-voodoo-y strings attached.”
Giving a skillful twirl of his cane, the demon smiled in victory as he offered his green-glowing hand to his new business partner. “So, it’s a deal then?”
“NOPE!” Charlie immediately refused, not even daring to push his hand away risking a technicality. “Nope, no shaking, no deals! Um, as princess of Hell and heir to the throne, I hereby order you to help with this hotel…for as long as you desire.” she timidly declared, “Sound fair?”
She’s so cute when she’s nervous, Alastor thought in amusement as he pretended to consider the offer. “Fair enough.”
“Cool beans!” she exhaled in relief.
Humming a merry tune as he took in his surroundings, Alastor mischievously tickled the chin of the angry girl who dared to threaten him earlier. There was no small amount of pleasure seeing how easy it was to rattle her. She would definitely be fun to torment. “Smile, my dear! You know, you’re never fully dressed without one. So, your highness,”
“You can just call me Charlie.” she gently corrected, tucking her hair behind her ear nervously.
“Of course. So, Charlie, where is the rest of your hotel staff?”
“Oh, well, right now it’s just me and Vaggie.”
A dropped pin could have been heard following that admission. The derelict state of the lobby was the first sign of how much work needed to be done. But to learn a hotel of such size was maintained by only two people? That was so sad it was hard to laugh. “Oh, hoho! You’re going to need more than that. And what can you do, my effeminate friend?” he asked as he finally greeted the spider, Angel Dust.
Without hesitation or shame, the porn star gave his honest reply. “I can suck your dick.”
“Ha! No.” Alastor flatly refused.
“Your loss.” Angel shrugged, smirking as he kept his mismatched eyes glued to Alastor’s coat covered rear.
“Well, this just won’t do! I suppose I can cash in a few favors to spruce things up. And I know just who’s perfect for the job.” Alastor assured. With a snap of his fingers, he used his black magic to make a few repairs to the décor, lighting system, and mantle with a bonus of igniting a roaring fire. As this happened, one of the souls he summoned dropped into the flames, covered head to toe in black soot. Looks like she took my suggestion to heart earlier, he thought while picking up the small body of his employee. Without assistance from her owner, Niffty puffed herself clean of all ash and soot as she smiled cutely at the trio of strangers. “This little darling is our new staff addition and maid, Niffty!” he introduced while dropping the little woman.
“Hi, I’m Niffty!” she sweetly greeted with a wave, “It’s nice to meet all of you. It’s been a while since I made new friends. Wait, why are you all women?” she randomly asked before picking up the male spider to look under his feet. “THERE ANY MEN HERE?! I’m sorry, that’s rude. Ooh, man! This place is filthy! It could really use a lady’s touch, which is weird because you’re all ladies, no offense. Oh, my gosh! This is awful!” she rambled as she scurried about cleaning, dusting, and Impaling insects. “Nope, nope, nope, NOT TODAY!” she snickered psychotically.
“Ha! Read ‘em and weep, boys!” a gruff voice laughed across the other side of the room. What used to be a booster seat beneath balloons and streamers to pass as the gathering area, Alastor’s magic inserted a saloon-like bar lit with teal, magical light through the wooden wall and floorboards. But the biggest thing worth noting was the winged, bipedal, cat-like Sinner hunched over the counter with playing cards and a mound of chips and money in front of him. “That’s what I call a full ho-OOO…tel?” the Sinner questioned as he experienced the dimensional shift, “What the fuck just happened?” he asked before locking eyes and snarling at Alastor, “YOU!”
“Ah, Husker, my good friend! It’s been far too long. Glad you could make it!” the overlord greeted, teasingly playing innocent.
“Don’t you ‘Husker’ me, you son of a bitch! I was about to win the whole damn pot!” the cat bellowed as he watched his winnings vanish.
“Good to see you, too!” Alastor taunted.
“What the hell do you want with me this time?” Husker asked in annoyance.
“My friend, I’ve decided to do some charity work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services. I hope that’s okay?” he pretended to ask.
“…Are you shitting me?!” Husker shouted as his owner pulled him into a side-hug.
“Let me think…no, I don’t think so!” Alastor answered before his old friend shoved him away.
“You thought it’d be some kind of big, fuckin’ riot to drag me to this shithole? You think I’m some kind of clown?!”
“…Maybe!” he replied, viewing the cat’s tantrum as clownish.
“I ain’t doing no fucking charity for you!”
“Oh, that’s too bad! You see, I figured you’d be the purr-fect face to man the front desk and watering hole of this fine establishment. With your expertise on refreshments and award-winning smile, this job was made for you!” Alastor teased even though he fully intended to force the Sinner to cooperate if he continued to complain. “Oh, don’t worry now, old friend. I can make this more enjoyable for you, if you wish.”
To sweeten the deal he had no say in, Husker, or Husk as he preferred, was presented with a single bottle that literally read, “Cheap Booze.” Since he knew Husk to be a bigger alcoholic than he was an addicted gambler, it was the best form of payment and method to shut the kitty up. Even if he wanted to put on a stubborn act of resistance. “What? You think you can buy me with a wink and some cheap booze?! Well…you can!” he admitted before knocking back the drink in defeat.
“Hey!” Vaggie suddenly interjected, standing between the bar and everyone else, “In case you’ve forgotten, we’re trying to save people’s souls. So, that means NO bar, and NO alcohol. This is meant to be a place that discourages sin! Not some kind of…mouth, brothel…man-cave-”
“SHUT UP!” Angel Dust shouted as he tackled the angry girl to the floor, “Shut your sour-faced mouth! We ARE keeping this!” he said, mostly pointing towards Husk before sliding up to flirt with him. “How you ‘doin?”
“Up yours.” Husk bristled in disgust as he drank.
“Got anything worth putting in there?” Angel teased before Niffty hoped onto the counter to greet her fellow enslaved.
“Hi, Husk! Long time no see. How you’ve been?”
“My life is an even bigger mess than when I was alive.” he grumbled as the liquor dribbled down his fur. Completely unfazed by his dejection, Charlie nearly shoved Angel aside as she leaned over the counter to greet her new employees.
“Oh, my gosh! Welcome to the Happy Hotel!” she said as her eyes lit with happiness and stars, “You guys are going to LOVE it here!”
“I lost my ability to love decades ago.” Husk flatly replied, taking a side glance at Alastor in hatred.
“So, that makes our charming, little establishment covered with our founder, resident, head maid, concierge/mixologist, ah…” Alastor trailed as he struggled to address Vaggie by her position.
“Manager.” she answered, crossing her arms and frowning while her one, good eye narrowing at him.
“Hmm,” Alastor acknowledged, though unsure of her competence, “And myself as host/hotelier! What do you think?” he smoothly asked his giddy co-owner.
“What do I think?” Charlie asked rhetorically as she bounced on her heels and rubbed her smiling cheeks, “This is amazing!”
“It’s…okay.” Vaggie reluctantly admitted.
“Hahaha! My dears,” Alastor said as he pulled them in, “This is going to be very entertaining!”
And now, for the icing on the cake, he thought as he smiled down at Charlie. With little effort, the Radio Demon used his magic to strike up a jazzy tune while holding out a ball of fire in the palm of his hand. Fully intrigued by the flames, Charlie was distracted as he launched it into the air, shoving Vaggie away to annoy her, and began to give a musical nod to the princess to lift her spirits from earlier.
You have a dream,
You wish to tell~
And it’s just laughable
But, hey kid, what the hell?
With the flames from before still in the air, Alastor used his magic to make them light the entire lobby with neon lights that would have made the grandest Madi Gras. To further fit the setting, he gave a few twirls of his finger to change everyone, including himself, into stylish 1920s clothing as he danced with his beautiful, new business partner.
Cause you’re one of a kind~
The charming demon belle!
Now, let’s give these burning fools a place to dwell
Take it, boys!
With a snap of his fingers, a band of the various shadow ghouls he controlled sprang from the floor and blared their instruments fit for the streets of his beloved New Orleans.
Ha-ha!
(Boo!)
Inside of every demon is lost cause~
(Ha!)
But we’ll dress them up for now with just a smile~
(Wicked smile!)
Oh, we’ll chlorinate this cesspool
With some old redemption flair
And show these simpletons some proper class and style~
(Class and style!)
Oh!
Here below the ground,
I’m sure your plan is sound
They’ll spend a little time~
Down at this Hazbin Ho-!
The jazzy rendition he was giving in honor of Charlie’s earlier performance, complimented by being able to dance with her and witness her angelic smile, was cut short by a sudden explosion that took out the front door, most of the wall, and even Niffty when the door collided with her tiny body. More than angry that his performance and dance was interrupted, Alastor dismissed his ambience and atmosphere as he and the others peeked through the hole in the wall.
“Oh, shit!” Angel cursed when he saw who the culprit was.
With everyone craning their necks, they all saw a heavily damaged, and poorly repaired, steampunk airship hovering across from the hotel. Who dares to interrupt my performance?
As if reading his mind, the Sinner responsible revealed himself. Adorned with numerous eyes, one of which was even on his top hat, was a snake-like Sinner in command of dozens of the same, little egg-creatures shown earlier on the news. “Ha! Well, well, well! Look who’s harboring the little spider-whore! We meet again, Alastor!”
“Do I know you?”
Put off by the question, the sinister smile the snake-man was wearing fell flat before turning into an insulted sneer as he retreated into his machine. “Oh, yes, you do!” he said through a microphone for all to hear, “And this time, I’ve come with the element of…surprise!”
Cackling maniacally, the Sinner lowered and aimed a massive canon directly in front of the group, causing them all to squint as its barrel lit with energy. Unfazed and unimpressed, Alastor snapped his fingers and demonstrated a portion of his powers to everyone. Two portals opened beneath the war machine; one to unleash giant, black tentacles than ensnared and impaled the machine’s innards, the other to catch the cannon tossed by one of the appendages. Everyone watched in shock as Alastor mercilessly controlled the tendrils to inflict as much pain and damage to everyone inside the blimp as possible. It was particularly enjoyable that the screams of the Sinners and his minions were amplified by the same audio system he used to threaten everyone. After the final explosion and fading scream of the fool who…tried to attack them, Alastor perked up and faced his new companions with a happy smile. “Well, I’m starved! Who wants some jambalaya? My mother taught me a most wonderful recipe for jambalaya. In fact, it nearly killed her! Haha! You could say the kick was right out of Hell! Oh-hoho, I’m on a roll! Yes, sir! You’ll be patting your bellies and saying ‘ca c’est bon’ before the night is out!”
“Uh…wow, Al. That was…that was…” Charlie trailed, slightly shaken by what she just saw as they all walked back inside.
“I know! Hahaha!” he laughed before leaning in with a sly grin, “Aren’t you glad I’m on your side now?” he asked, raising her hand as if he was going to kiss her knuckles. He did not intend to, just tease the poor girl and watch her blush, which she did. But Vaggie shoved his arm away and glared at his smirking face as she protectively held her best friend. He merely shrugged and proceeded to open the door for everyone. With one last look at his new home, the mysterious overlord gave one more magical snap before joining the others. He did not stay to watch, but he knew his power did its job by changing the neon letters of the building from the “Happy Hotel” to the “Hazbin Hotel.”