Chapter Text
When Victor entered school the next day, he was excited to tell his friends the news about his mother’s health increasing. What he was not expecting when he walked into the lunchroom was a sobbing Vincent with a Veronica awkwardly comforting him. Most likely not used to doing so when she saw Victor's relief wash her face as she called out to him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting next to his friends, whose eyes immediately widened.
“Victor, thank God, please tell me you didn’t follow through with the list,” Vincent says, a look of exasperation coming across his face. Vincent thinks back; the list specifically said not to tell anyone about the deal made.
“Why?” he decides to ask instead, not sure if revealing the truth was a smart decision.
This gets Vincent tearing up again as he tries to wipe the tears from falling. Victor places a comforting arm around him. “M-my brother, h-he,” Vincent sobs, overtaken as he covers his face, shaking. Both Veronica and Victor give each other a concerned look.
“What about your brother Vincent? What happened?” Victor says sternly, trying to assess what he may have to face in the near future if he wasn’t careful.
“He was violently murdered last night. Someone randomly shot him multiple times, and they said the guy didn’t even know him; he just did it for no reason.”
“And you think this has something to do with the deal he made?” Victor asks, causing Vincent to get upset.
“What else could it be, Victor, please?” Vincent takes turns to show him frantic concern. “Please tell me you didn’t do that deal; I don’t know what I’d do if… if that happened.”
“I didn’t take the deal, don’t worry.” Victor lies now, knowing that the consequences of not following the rules were in full effect. Vincent’s brother had told him that he had made the deal with his demon, most likely the reason for his death. Vincent was determined not to make the same mistake. He decided his good news about his mother would have to wait; today he would comfort his friend.
Knowing what the demon was capable of, Victor decided to get to work. He offered his mother a quick greeting. As she told him she would call him down when dinner was ready, he said he would quickly run up to the room he knew the spirit resided in. Taking a deep breath, he entered the room. Locking the door as his heart began to pick up in his chest. The spirit was nowhere to be seen, unfortunately. How exactly could he get a spirit's attention? He could call out to it. “Spirit, I’m here to speak to you,” he shouted, and when he still got no response, he felt stupid. “The one time I actually want to see you. You're nowhere to be found; what a load of crap,” he says as he goes to examine a desk in the room.
Victor never typically explored this room due to the trauma it held for him. But for some odd reason, the fact that he had a powerful demon on his side gave him false confidence. The room had a queen-size bed and an old dresser and a rocking chair by the window; his mother decked it out to bring him more of a sense of peace, saying the only thing she kept was the dresser from the previous owner because it was “too good to throw out.”
As Victor began to go through the old dresser, curiosity getting the better of him, the rocking chair began to rock. He ignored it, continuing his search. “Something you don’t want me to find,” he mumbled more to himself, the increasing rocking not easing his nerves. Most of the stuff was his mother's extra clothes, but when he got to the bottom of the drawer, he noticed a piece of wood was mismatched with the rest of the drawer. He picked at it until he realized that the wood was a cover-up to hide something within the drawer. Money, perhaps? Once he finally removed the mismatched wood, he realized underneath it held an old photograph. He studied it carefully. Clearly the photo was taken in the past based on how the couple was dressed and the state of the photograph. The younger male’s eyes were solely on the woman’s love, clear in his irises.
“Don’t touch what doesn’t belong to you.” The spirit shouted directly behind him, causing Victor to jump and drop the photograph. The ghost snarled at him, and Victor gently set the photograph back where he found it, closing the dresser and putting his hands up in mock peace, surrendering. “What is it you want, boy?” The spirit spoke again, his appearance still silently frightening to Victor. It was clear the man before him was dead. But he put his fear aside, reminding himself he was doing all of this for a cause. His mother.
“I’m here to make a deal with you,” Victor says firmly, masking the fear evident as he stood up from where he once was, hands clenched; the sprite smirked at him, clearly amused.
“Making deals with devils, boy. Catholic boy like you—who would’ve thought? Won’t your poor mother be disappointed?” the spirit said, mocking, clearly hitting a nerve, but Victor refused to back down.
“The radio demon is offering you. Your chance to take the revenge you clearly weren’t able to take.”
“YOU KNOW NOTHING,” the spirit shouted, flinging Victor along the dresser. As he hit his head harshly against said dresser, he glared back at the ghost, stubbornly clutching his head. As his mother called up to him to check on him, he reassured her he was ok.
“I know that you clearly lost someone you love. Which is why you’ve been torturing me with the image for years. And I also know if I were in your shoes I’d do anything for the person I love,” Victor says, standing up once more. “Which is why I’m in the predicament I’m in now,” he smiles hesitantly, attempting to convince the spirit that they weren’t that much different.
The spirit scoffs at him, “And how am I guaranteed that this demon will be able to get my revenge that my wife deserves?” Good, Victor thought. He considered that that’s all Victor needed to seal the deal.
“You’ve seen my mother’s complete health turn around. Which, by the way, I don’t appreciate you trying to take her under with you.” Victor glared but continued. “You really think someone incapable would have the power to do that? Think about it; it’s clear he’s powerful; otherwise, he wouldn’t have the powers to be able to restrain even you.” Victor's smile widened as the spirit before him really took in his words. “If you offer your soul to the radio demon, it’ll be guaranteed that your revenge will be handled so you can finally be at rest and stop torturing me and my family,” Victor says, extending a hand, hoping that his false confidence played in his favor because he knew if he didn’t hold his end of the deal, his life as well as his mother’s would be at stake.
The staring seemed endless, but when finally the ghost reached out, firmly grasping Victor’s hand, the green lights that once encircled him. Had encircled them both as the deal was finalized, the room began to become engulfed in smoke, and an all too tall and familiar figure stood next to him. “Well, that was quicker than I expected now then.” Alastor was now able to speak to the spirit since his soul belonged to him. “I will need a name, good sir, so I can fulfill my end of the deal.”
And as the spirit spoke the name, finalizing what exactly was bound to be done. Victor's heart dropped. He knew that name.