Chapter 1: A sordid proposition
Chapter Text
Charlie lay motionless in her bed, staring at the ceiling for hours without being able to utter a single sound. In her mind, she replayed what had been said during that meeting where she had taken her father's place. Trying to calm down by being alone had been of no use. No matter how much she continued to think of a different solution, if she wanted to save her people, she had very little choice. She rolled onto her side, placing the pillow over her head as she mentally searched for a way to tell her father.
That morning…
- Good morning, Charlie! -
Her father's cheerful voice greeted her with a singsong tone and the smell of his famous pancakes immediately reached her nose. She groggily opened her eyes to see Lucifer’s smiling face in front of her, holding a tray piled with food and steaming coffee, along with orange juice. She sat up, rubbing her eyes with one hand and yawning, stretching her arms upwards to loosen up.
- Good morning, Dad -.
The Seraphim sat down opposite her, setting everything near her. It was strange for her to see him so active so early in the morning. He was oddly cheerful, as if he had some good news to give her, and she found herself trembling with excitement. Ever since her mother had gone off, he had become terribly sad, and those flashes of joy he reserved for her had become even more precious. She grabbed a plate and began to eat with delight, knowing how good he was at making them and almost stuffing herself under the satisfied gaze of the king.
- How are you feeling today? - he asked.
She widened her smile, wiping the remnants of food from the corners of her mouth with the back of her hand. - Great! Especially with a wakeup call like this -.
Her father smiled even more, rubbing his hands together. - I'm so glad! Because I have to ask you for a favor… -.
Charlie gave him a knowing look. - So this breakfast was your way of buttering me up, Dad? -.
The demon's crimson cheeks grew even brighter as he looked left and right in agitation. - What are you talking about! Can't I spoil my little girl? - he asked, squeezing her cheek.
- Come on, Dad, tell me what you need - she asked, biting into another piece of the delicious pancake and taking a sip of coffee.
The Seraphim began to fidget with his hands. - Well, you see, I've been thinking for a while that maybe you should be more involved in our kingdom's political affairs…-.
Charlie let out a little squeal of excitement upon hearing that sentence. It was true, she couldn't wait for Lucifer to finally let her do something for Hell. Her biggest dream was to redeem the souls who lived there; she thought that since her father had fallen, the reverse could happen too. For months, she had been pestering him day and night with her ideas. She had even thought of opening a hotel specifically for that plan, but unfortunately, one of the internal battles between Overlords had demolished it, and she had been forced to put that project aside. She had then started to beg him to let her talk to someone from Heaven to propose the idea, hoping that maybe they would appreciate the gesture and would stop coming down annually to exterminate the souls who lived there.
Her father immediately noticed her emotion and put his hands up to calm her down. - Charlie, don't get ahead of yourself - he said seriously. - It's just a formal meeting with a member of the Exorcist Angels. I don't even know what they want, to be honest. But I thought that since you seem so interested…-.
- THANK YOU! - she shrieked, not even letting him finish, and threw her arms around his neck, causing the entire tray to tip over onto the blankets and her father's immaculate white pants.
Lucifer didn't seem to mind; he knew his daughter well enough by now to know there was no way to dampen her enthusiasm. By giving her that news, he had lit the fuse of her emotions, causing her to literally explode. He returned the hug, stroking her long, blonde hair that was matted from the night.
He moved her away to look at her sternly. - Remember, don't be too disappointed if they don't listen to you. I know them well enough to know they can be… cruel -.
The princess's heart broke for a second when she saw her father's sad gaze as he said that. He never spoke willingly about the fall, but the few times he did, she could read the pain that event had caused in his eyes. She had grown up mostly with the stories he told her about Heaven, his ideas, and all the beautiful things about that place, and for that reason too, she found it hard to understand why they insisted on descending to commit those atrocious acts. She smiled sweetly at him, squeezing his clawed hand. - I promise, Dad, but I'll still do my best.-
The demon smiled back, gently stroking her cheek. - I'm sure you will.-
After her father had salvaged what was left of the partially spilled breakfast, she jumped out of bed and started running like a madwoman to get herself ready. She dashed into the shower, combed her hair into her usual soft braid, and then opened the closet, going through every single outfit she had, but nothing seemed right.
There's only one solution, she thought with a smile, before putting on a dressing gown and running down the corridors of Lucifer's villa to Vaggie's room.
As expected, she was still asleep. The curtains were drawn, and the room was shrouded in total darkness, except for the faint light that passed through when the princess stealthily opened the door to enter. She loved playing these pranks on her first thing in the morning, especially knowing how much Vaggie loved to sleep in.
- I heard you - the former angel mumbled in a low voice, with a pillow pressed over her head and silver hair falling from the side of the bed.
Charlie sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. - I can never surprise you -.
Vaggie had been living with them for three years now. Charlie had found her shortly after one of the annual Exterminations, with golden blood gushing from the eye that had been torn out by one of her comrades, all because she had refused to kill a soul. Upon learning this, Charlie had felt a duty to help her and decided to take her home. Her father, of course, was happy to do so, perhaps because he understood very well the suffering such treatment could cause, having experienced it himself. Over time, Charlie had developed a deep affection for Vaggie to the point of thinking she had fallen in love with her, and they had tried more than once, but each time the former angel ran away as if she was afraid. In the end, the princess had stopped trying and was content to have her close at least as a friend, although she deeply suffered from that unrequited feeling.
- Because you're noisy - Vaggie commented, pulling herself up to sit on the bed.
Charlie ran to open the curtains, and her friend put a hand in front of her remaining eye. - What's wrong with you this morning? You look like a jack-in-the-box -.
Charlie put her hands to the sides of her face as she tried to hold back a scream. - Today I have a meeting with Heaven! My dad is sending me in his place! -.
The former angel's good eye widened, and she started coughing as if she were choking on her own saliva. - Are you kidding me?! - she rasped between coughs.
The princess launched herself onto the bed, landing on her back next to her friend and looking at her, perplexed. - Aren't you happy for me? -.
Vaggie turned to face her with a stern look. - No, I'm worried about you -.
Charlie rolled her eyes. - You'll see, everything will be fine! In fact, I'm sure it will be great! -.
Her friend ran her hands over her face, breathing deeply, pushing hair back in the motion and massaging her neck. - Charlie, I've explained this to you many times. For them, there are no shades of gray. You won't change their minds with a nice speech -.
She waved her hands in the air, pretending not to hear, then jumped up and grabbed her by the arm to drag Vaggie toward her room, completely ignoring the other's complaints.
She began to list, randomly and excitedly, the outfits she was undecided about, the speech she had prepared for a month now, the idea of rebuilding the hotel, but she suddenly stopped when she looked up at Vaggie. She had been so caught up in her own thoughts that she hadn't noticed that Vaggie was wearing a simple white babydoll that barely covered her, and she found herself swallowing with difficulty. She involuntarily scanned all those exposed patches of skin, but her eyes were immediately caught by a fallen strap that left her shoulder and part of her chest uncovered. They had been living together for years now, but she just couldn't get used to seeing her half-naked, especially not after they had hooked up a few months before. It had happened after a party in the city; both had overdone it with alcohol, and, aided by the drunkenness, they had found themselves making out in an alley before running home and doing it on that very same bed that seemed to remind her every time of what they had shared. She only noticed at that moment that even the crimson sheets with heart patterns were the same ones they had used that time, washed and no longer holding Vaggie's sweet scent that made them special.
She had obsessed over that event for weeks, but in the end, it had all amounted to nothing again, and for her, it was another stab to the heart. She had cried for days, hidden from everyone, going through box after box of tissues, but in the end, she had decided never to try that path again. In front of her, in that outfit, all her good intentions wavered for a moment, and she found herself gripping the red pantsuit she was holding tightly in her hands.
Vaggie seemed to notice the gaze, and her pale cheeks immediately began to flush as she looked down. - I'll change and be right there, okay? - she asked.
Charlie could only nod and watched her quickly disappear from the room and threw herself onto the bed, covering her face with the jacket, hoping that that thin piece of fabric would muffle the cry that escaped her dark lips. This was not the time to think about her; she absolutely had to stay focused and think about the meeting she was about to have with Heaven.
She got up and started changing, deciding to wear that blessed pantsuit that had now become like a uniform, accessorizing it with a black bowtie to look more elegant. Vaggie returned when she was finished, and she tried to greet her with a calm smile. - So? What do you think? - she asked, trying to sound relaxed.
Vaggie looked at her carefully. - You're gorgeous -.
Why do you have to be like this? the princess thought, disheartened. She hated that Vaggie looked at her that way, as if she desired her just as much. She couldn't stand that kind of look after everything that had happened.
She shot out the door like a bullet after grabbing the index cards she had prepared since she'd had that idea, in case of a possible meeting, stuffing them into her jacket pocket and heading quickly toward the exit. She was so tense that she barely greeted her father and walked at a brisk pace through the chaotic streets of her beloved city.
A swarm of souls and demons engaged in their daily activities hit her head-on, so much so that she struggled to move through the crowded streets. She watched her subjects, who barely seemed to notice her at the moment, and she wondered how they lived their hellish existence, and she wondered if they, themselves, would appreciate her idea of redemption.
As she was busy looking around, she bumped into one of the passersby, and in her haste to step away to apologize, she tripped over someone's arm, risking falling backward. She closed her eyes, preparing for the impact with the ground, but a hand firmly grabbed her by the waist, holding her back. She opened her eyes abruptly and found herself in front of two intense, bright red eyes, along with a wide, sharp-toothed smile.
- Are you all right, chérie? - the demon asked, and only then did she realize who it was.
It was Alastor, the famous and powerful Radio Demon. She had only heard of him and had seen him from a distance, since he was always holed up in the club/radio station he managed, the Scarlet Wave. Terrifying stories circulated about him, and she had always kept her distance precisely because of what she had been told, but at that moment, she couldn't break away. She felt as if chained by that serene and cheerful gaze. She found herself staring at the soft, red ears on top of his head, while an unhealthy desire to touch them made its way into her soul. In that moment, he seemed completely harmless.
She snapped out of it, blinking several times, as she got back on her feet. - I'm sorry, I didn't see you -.
The demon brought his walking stick in front of his body, resting both hands on it. - Don't worry, nothing irreparable has happened -.
He spoke in a strange, distorted tone and never for a second lost that wide smile that seemed to cut his face in half. It was a kind of laugh that could be friendly, but at the same time, terribly unsettling, and she found herself feeling strange shivers run down her spine. A part of her told her to immediately put as much distance as possible between them, but the other was curious about this strange individual she had only heard stories about.
She looked at her watch and realized she was terribly late. - Oh, damn it! - she exclaimed in a fluster. - I have to run, sorry again! -
She watched him stand still, raising his hand to wave at her. - Until we meet again, chérie -
That phrase made her blood run cold, especially because he seemed so convinced of that statement, as if he was sure they would meet again. She called herself stupid for that thought; his was one of the most famous and prestigious clubs in Pentagram City, of course he thought he would see her one day attending one of his evenings. She would have gladly gone, if it wasn’t for the fact that Vaggie never wanted to accompany her, and she was too embarrassed to go alone.
She arrived out of breath in front of the entrance to the clock tower where the meetings with Heaven were held, and she rushed inside, wiping the sweat from her forehead caused by the run.
She moved nervously through the completely empty corridors, the pure white walls that seemed almost suffocating and the high ceilings that made her feel like an ant. She kept twisting her sweaty hands, as she mentally tried to go over the speech she had prepared.
- Is anyone here? - she asked in a weak voice, but all she could hear was the echo of her voice bouncing off the walls.
She touched the papers in her pocket as if to brace herself, while she forced herself to take deep breaths to avoid completely collapsing into the anxiety that was making her stomach churn. Everything had happened so quickly that she only now realized what she was about to face, and all the confidence and optimism that had permeated her that morning seemed to have dissolved like a puff of smoke.
Some noises from one of the golden doors caught her attention, and she approached it cautiously, opening it slowly. Inside, she saw a powerful-looking angel, a tunic covering his body and a mask on his face.
- May I come in? - she asked hesitantly.
He pointed his gaze at her, widening his smile. - Well, look who they sent! - he exclaimed, remaining seated at the end of the long table. - The fucking princess herself! -
A bead of sweat ran down her forehead, and she stood still, only her head poking through the doorway. Whoever that angel was, he had a decidedly ambiguous attitude. He pointed to a chair not far from him. - Come on in, what are you waiting for, a formal invitation? - he continued in a gloating tone. - We have a lot to discuss, goldy eyes -.
I have red eyes she thought, annoyed, as she came in and closed the door behind her. She would have liked to sit at the other end of the table and stay as far away from him as possible, but he kept excitedly pointing to the chair next to him, and this was a clear sign that she couldn't refuse the invitation. She settled into the chair, trying to keep her smile alive so as not to seem rude, even though her interlocutor seemed completely devoid of even the slightest social graces.
- Remind me of your name? Fuck, I'm terrible at these things - he laughed out loud, holding out his hand.
She swallowed the lump in her throat with difficulty and shook the other's hand, which began to almost shake her because of the overly frantic movements - Charlotte, or Charlie if you prefer -.
- Adam, or Head of the Dicks if you prefer - he blurted out while he wouldn't stop shaking her hand.
The smile on her face was replaced by a stunned expression, as the angel finally let go of her hand, which fell limply into her lap, her eyes widening. It wasn't just the way he had introduced himself that had left her completely dumbfounded, but also that name. Adam, her mother's first husband. Now she understood why her father had decided not to take part in that meeting. He probably refused to see that individual more than he believed in her and her idea, and she could partly understand it; he was a real asshole. She tried to regain her composure and forced her smile as much as she could. - Oh, the first man -.
He looked at her with a gloating air. - The original dick, beautiful! -
Charlie would have wanted to disappear at that very moment, but she did her best to remain seated composedly and not let on the obvious embarrassment that was shaking her because of his manners, as she nervously and mechanically smoothed her pants. – So, - she began, clasping her hands together. - I know you called the meeting, but I also have something to talk about -
Adam sprawled out in the chair, suddenly taking off his mask and almost throwing it onto the table in front of him. He had two shining golden eyes, an arrogant smile, and a goatee on his square chin. His cedar-colored hair was deliberately messy, while one ear had several piercings. He reminded her more of a member of a rock band than an actual angel, and that sight left her even more perplexed.
- I've made myself comfortable, if you don't mind - he blurted out, as he propped his feet on the table and put his arms behind his head. -Go ahead, sweetie, I'm all ears -
She took a deep breath, trying to remain calm and not get irritated by his rude and boorish ways. - As I think you know, every year you come down here to exterminate my people... -.
He stopped her with a hand, while smiling arrogantly. - I'm happy we want to touch on the same point, we're already on the same wavelength -.
Charlie's eyes widened with joy. - Really? - she chirped excitedly, placing both hands on the table. - Because I have an idea that could solve this problem in a way that stops it -.
Adam pointed to himself with his thumb. - We're one step ahead of you, goldy eyes, we've already found the solution to end the Extermination here -.
The princess's heart was beating frantically in her chest, while a wide smile spread across her face, as her legs trembled under the table. - So you want to stop it too? -
The angel nodded, while he huffed. - It's a pain to come down here every time. Don't get me wrong, I love a little bloodshed, but what a drag to have to come all the way down here! And besides, the Seraphim are starting not to like it, they want a peaceful solution - he spat out that last two words with irritation.
- That's the same thing I want! - she exclaimed, pointing to herself. - What did you have in mind? -
Adam widened his smile and took his feet off the table, leaning his face toward her. - A marriage - he said seriously.
A strange buzzing sound went through Charlie's ears, as the smile faded from her lips. Adam's golden eyes were scrutinizing her carefully and were clearly fixated on her chest despite it being covered by her buttoned-up shirt, and she found herself clutching the jacket as if to hide, while she pressed her back against the chair. He didn't pick up on her gesture and moved even closer to the point where she could feel his breath on her face. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, as she tried not to stutter.
- What do you mean? - she whispered.
The angel then moved back, leaning his back against the chair. - The Seraphim have come up with a solution where everyone wins, a kind of alliance. Besides, both Heaven and Hell welcome souls, and if the Princess is married to someone who is a part of it, we will avoid any revolts without having to bust all the damned's asses -.
She had already guessed that she would have to be the sacrificial victim for that marriage, but hearing it said so directly made her breath die in her throat and her stomach turn, the bile rising and completely burning her throat. She had never even remotely considered a commitment of that kind, let alone with someone she had never even met. However, she was aware that this could be the solution she was looking for to forever end the conflicts that had seen her people tormented for centuries. She clenched her fists and lowered her gaze. - And who would I have to marry? - she asked in a whisper.
Adam lifted her chin with his index finger to force her to look at him. - Me, nice tits -.
Chapter Text
Alastor returned to his club after that strange yet fortuitous encounter. He had been thinking for months about how to attract the princess's attention, and that chance clash was exactly what he needed. He had hoped that sooner or later she would appear of her own free will, but she seemed to be delaying bringing her elegant presence to the place he had made one of the most renowned in all of Pentagram City. Of course, he had been helped by his fame, but these were irrelevant details as far as he was concerned.
Every single step he took served to attract as many souls as possible and subjugate them to his will. He had now become one of the most powerful Overlords of all, but it was still not enough.
He had craved only one thing since he arrived in Hell: power over everything, and Princess Charlotte Morningstar was part of that plan of conquest he had studied in minute detail.
In those years, everything had gone so smoothly that he was surprised by the ease with which his projects had taken shape. He had started by subjugating simple damned souls and had slowly raised the bar, then holding almost the entire city in his grasp, if one did not count the areas governed by his friend Rosie and Vox. He was his constant thorn in the side, but he had managed to get the better of him more than once during that time. With his four-bit shows, he had tried to sink his credibility with false news and slander, but he was too experienced and calculating to be caught off guard, and his radio program had given him a run for his money. In the end, that talking screen had grown tired of making war on him and limited himself to avoiding him as much as possible.
The Crimson Wave was one of his best creations. He had inherited it from one of the Overlords whose screams were broadcast when he was not on air, and he had completely renovated it, transforming it from a dive bar into a classy establishment. The environment was in the style he appreciated most, namely that of the years of his beloved earthly existence; red velvet armchairs and dark cherry wood furnishings and soft lighting. Of course, there was a stage where he loved to entertain his guests with various performances, only occasionally leaving room for sporadic artists who showed up looking for an engagement.
He entered, breathing the smell of food that came from the club's kitchen, where Niffty was probably already at work to prepare the various foods they would present that evening; first among them, jambalaya. It had taken him months to teach her how to make it the right way, and she had proven to be a perfect student unlike Husk, who, however, had a great talent as a bartender.
He watched the demon behind the counter, intent on polishing glasses with his usual nervous demeanour, and gave him a cheerful smile.
- Good morning, my dear Husker! - he exclaimed, taking a seat on one of the stools. - Do you have any news for me? -.
The bartender sighed, as he put one of the crystal flutes back in its place. - We have a reservation from the usual group from Cannibal Town and the suppliers forgot to deliver the aged whiskey -.
He felt his eyelid twitch nervously at that news, while a screech was born in his throat. He couldn't stand those absurd mishaps, he certainly couldn't serve any junk to his customers, and besides, that was one of the drinks he himself appreciated the most.
He adjusted his monocle, trying to regain his composure. - Kindly remind them that it's not a good idea to be late with me. They should know what happened to our last supplier -.
Husk trembled for a second; he remembered very well the amount of guts that had been scattered around that room, it had been he and Niffty who had to clean up that mess.
- I'll remind him - he replied, as he began to arrange the various ingredients he would need for the evening. - You still seem strangely cheerful, boss, any interesting news? -.
He crossed his legs, as he leaned his hands on the counter. - We may soon have some high-level visitors, mon ami - he replied, thinking of the business card he had left in the princess's jacket pocket as he saved her from that ruinous fall.
The bartender let out a confused grumble. - In a nutshell, more work for me and Niffty -.
Alastor ignored that rude comment to retreat to the upper floor, which housed not only the rooms of his two colleagues and subordinates, but also his radio tower and private room. He smiled at the thought that, sooner or later, he would be able to hold the princess's soul in his hands as well.
Charlie had finally decided to get out of that bed, also because her father had come at least five times to talk to her, but she had locked herself in the room like a teenager in crisis and he had finally given up.
She didn't know what to think about the proposal Adam had made to her, but she was certain of one thing: her father would kill him rather than give her to him in marriage. When she had heard those words, she had tried to reply by telling him that he was already married to Eve, but he had only said that Paradise could grant an annulment for an important situation like that.
She had wondered several times why they had chosen Adam as her future husband and not some other Seraphim or Archangel, but on the way home the answer had come to her brain piercing it like a blade: it was a punishment for Lilith's flight and Lucifer's fall. Seeing one's offspring given in marriage to the very one who had been humiliated by that betrayal was the perfect counterpoint. The first man had given her three days to think about it, then he would return with the high Seraphim to seal the agreement.
What did she think about it? She couldn't really say.
She cared so much about the idea of saving Hell that it had begun to seem like a viable option. Paradise would hardly accept a counter-proposal, and hers, in any case, was simply a hypothesis and she had no one willing to walk the path of redemption. Arriving in front of her father's office, she sighed before knocking, as she felt terror run through her limbs at the thought of how he might react to that news.
- Honey, is that you? -.
She swallowed the lump of saliva that had formed in her throat. - Yes, Dad - she replied with a trembling voice.
A noise of objects falling to the ground left her perplexed. - Come in! -.
Her father's study had never changed since she was a child. Hanging on the walls there were still dozens of photos of their family and her mother, along with a number of rubber ducks that had only increased since Lilith had left. At first, she found them cute and funny, but over time that obsession had really started to worry her. After years, she had simply gotten used to it. She found Lucifer bent over his desk, as he created yet another yellow duck with her features. He had even given it a red suit just like the one she still wore.
He turned to her with a strained smile. - So... how did it go? -.
Charlie froze on the spot, beginning to torment a lock of hair that had escaped from her braid. - Well... let's just say it didn't go exactly as I hoped... Adam showed up... -.
From her father's expression, she immediately understood that he didn't know anything either, unlike what she had thought at first. A crimson flash passed through his eyes and his teeth seemed to lengthen.
- That asshole came to a meeting? - he snorted with a voice made deeper than usual by anger.
If he reacts like this, we're in trouble, she thought agitatedly, as a couple of hairs came off her head due to the tug she gave to the lock she still held between her fingers.
- Yeah... he had a proposal to stop the Extermination too - she murmured.
Her father's eyes narrowed. - From the way you're talking about it, it doesn't sound like that amoeba came up with anything sensible from that shitty mouth of his -.
She buried her face in her hands in despair, as she felt tears sting her eyes. Her fear was not only due to the reaction her father might have, but also to the fact that she was already mentally ready to sacrifice for her people. All she wanted was peace between them and Paradise, and maybe that way Hell would turn into a better place to live. However, she was aware that Lucifer would never consent to a pact like that.
- He proposed a marriage... to seal a definitive peace agreement between Paradise and Hell - she whispered with a voice broken by tears.
A deathly silence suddenly fell over the room, broken only by the panting of the sovereign who seemed on the verge of exploding. Charlie moved her hands from her face to look at him and saw him immobile like a salt statue. His eyes were so wide they looked like two billiard balls, his mouth was so clenched that she thought it had been locked forever in that position. He was squeezing the duck so hard between his fingers that the orbits of the plastic piece popped out.
- And who is supposed to get married? - he asked with a vacant, lost look in his eyes.
The princess began to nervously bite a nail. - Me -.
The seraphim shuddered and the duck's eyes definitively shot out of the puppet, getting lost who knows where. - And... with whom? -.
- Adam -.
If it hadn't been for the fact that they shared the same blood, that sudden explosion would have risked killing her. The king had literally detonated in a ball of fire, revealing himself in his complete demonic form. The three pairs of wings spread out, the horns lengthened on his head with the flaming crown in the centre. His eyes were two crimson pits filled with such anger that they could have incinerated Hell. Charlie found herself with her butt on the ground in the middle of one of the huge piles of ducks that stared at her almost as if to mock her.
- WHAT DOES THAT BASTARD DOG WANT?! -.
The princess got up with difficulty, going to meet him. - Dad, listen to me -.
- I'LL KILL HIM AND ALL HIS PROGENY -.
At that point, Charlie had no choice but to also take on the form of a demon, to grab him by the shoulders and try to make him look her in the eyes. - Dad, stop! I haven't accepted yet! -.
The king’s eyes suddenly returned to normal, even though the rest of his body continued to emit flames. - In what sense... yet? -.
She let her arms fall along her body as if defeated, while she tucked a lock of hair that had ended up on her face behind her ear. - In the sense that I'm thinking about it -.
At that point, the sovereign's anger subsided as quickly as it had arrived, while his wings folded to disappear behind his back. He was incredulous to hear those words, and she could understand him perfectly, she herself still couldn't believe she had said them. She knew, however, that if that was the best option for her people, she would follow it without a fuss, even at the cost of being unhappy for all eternity. She deeply loved her kingdom; it was everything to her.
Her father took her face in his hands, trying to look at her. - You can't be serious - he whispered. - I won't let you do something so stupid, you won't condemn yourself to unhappiness alongside that bastard -.
She tried to hold back her tears in turn, while she sniffled. - If it's the only option we have, I don't see what else to do. Every year the Extermination claims more and more souls, I'll end up being the Princess of Ashes -.
Lucifer pulled her close, forcing her to lower herself, while she gave in to a desperate cry on her father's chest, who held her tight and crouched on the ground with her. She hadn't thought she would get to that point, she was convinced that the day she made a choice like that she would do it only for love and not for a stupid political alliance. But it was the only way out of that terrible situation that had been suffered by all souls for centuries. All those lives were not worth hers, and she was completely convinced of this.
- Charlie, I can't lose you too - her father murmured, his voice broken by tears that were probably trying to escape.
She hugged him more tightly, trying to be strong for both of them. - You won't lose me, Dad, I won't go away -.
Lucifer moved her to look her in the eyes with a severe look. - Do you really think they'll let you stay here? You'll be forced to follow them to Paradise and I'll never see you again -.
Charlie's throat was in a grip so tight that she thought she would suffocate, torn by the pain she was feeling in an attempt to hold back the sobs that risked shaking her until she fell to the ground in a fetal position. She hadn't thought about that at all, she was convinced that somehow, she would convince them to at least let her stay close to her father, she hadn't considered the option of being completely uprooted from her home.
She bit her dark lips in an attempt to quell her anxiety and return to reality. - Those are probably negotiable details -.
- You're not going to do it, and that's that! - he yelled at that point, pulling himself to his feet. - The conversation is over! -.
The princess got up to confront him. - You can't decide for me, I'm an adult now -.
The seraphim was vibrating with fury, his eyes were taking on reddish hues again. - I'm still the fucking King in this Hell, at the next meeting we'll go together and you'll refuse the offer! -.
- No! I'll do it, I've already decided! -.
The echo of her voice reverberated through the walls when silence fell. She herself didn't expect to be so firm in that decision, until a few seconds before she almost hoped her father had some ace up his sleeve to give a different idea. But when she saw the firmness with which he wanted to prevent her from doing something truly useful for their kingdom, she found herself filled with a firmness that she had rarely experienced in her existence. She would not let her people suffer any more just because she was not brave enough to face that path, she would never forgive herself for all eternity.
Her father seemed to stop breathing when he heard her so firm in her position, to the point that he seemed to become even smaller, while his crimson eyes seemed to moisten. With a blink of an eye, any tears that had appeared disappeared as quickly as they had arrived and his gaze hardened again.
- Charlie, you're making a mistake, and you know it - he hissed. - And when you realize it, it will be too late -.
She held those accusing eyes as best she could, as she wiped her tears with the sleeve of her jacket. - At least I'm doing something, I'm not hiding here feeling sorry for myself! -.
She regretted those words immediately after she had spoken them and found herself biting her tongue for the stupidity that had guided her to blurt them out.
She saw in her father's eyes how much she had unintentionally hurt him with those poisonous words and wanted to bury herself alive.
Lucifer turned his back on her, while he placed the palms of his hands on the desk behind him. - Do what you think is necessary, but you won't have my support in this decision -.
She would have liked to try to talk to him again, but when she moved her hand towards his shoulder, he flinched and she found herself with those annoying tears stinging her eyes again.
She left without looking at him, while she tried to dry the ones that escaped her control with her fingers and closed the door to the study behind her. She walked like a ghost through the corridors to return to her room, while she convulsively hugged her arms around her chest in search of comfort. Her father couldn't understand how much she cared about that kingdom and how much she wanted to see it reborn from that mess, just as her mother would have wanted. They shared the same dreams, she probably would have been able to understand her more and maybe find a solution that didn't involve Adam's murder.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't even realize that Vaggie was walking past her and trying to get her attention, she only noticed when she found herself face to face with her.
She looked at her with concern and tilted her head to the side as if to observe her better.
- Charlie, what happened? - she asked her with agitation.
She threw herself on her shoulder, unable to hold back her sobs any longer and they both knelt on the cold floor, while the ex-angel hugged her shoulders and stroked her back in an attempt to calm her down.
- A mess, Vaggie... a real mess - she murmured.
Her friend took her back to her room, letting her cry until she had no tears left and holding her in her arms. How she wished that those gestures were not only dictated by the friendship that united them, but also by something else. At that point, however, it really didn't matter anymore. Even if Vaggie loved her, they would no longer be able to be together once she signed that damned agreement, so perhaps it was better that she didn't love her back. She couldn't bear to make her suffer like that.
Vaggie handed her the packet of tissues she had left on the bedside table and invited her to blow her nose. - Do you feel like talking about it now? - she asked, stroking her hair.
Charlie nodded as she blew her nose, red from crying. - It's about the interview I had today... -.
The ex-angel's eye narrowed into an expression of pure rage. - I knew those assholes wouldn't listen to you -.
The princess drew her lips into a straight line, while she tried to swallow her saliva with difficulty. - The problem is another, Vaggie... they want to stop the Extermination -.
The other one looked at her, widening her only remaining eye, while it was clear that she was barely holding back her jaw from trembling. - Seriously? Then why are you like this? - she asked again, while she lovingly stroked her forehead to move the locks of golden hair that had escaped the control of her hairstyle.
She lowered her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at her while she spoke those words. - They want me to marry Adam in exchange -.
The friend's hand trembled on her nape to the point that it risked pulling out some of her hair, and then suddenly fell back on the mattress. She saw her legs covered by her stockings tremble, while her fingers clawed at the heart-patterned sheets that had seen what she thought was the birth of their love. Even if she had reciprocated, however, she would not have given up on that intent, there were too many things at stake to be able to back out and that awareness caused a new pang in her stomach. She would have liked to spend those last few days in Hell only with her, locked in that room loving each other in silence for as long as possible. She forced herself to look up at her, but she seemed distant. She had a vacant look, while her lips were slightly open and she was breathing slowly as if she were about to stop.
- It's a joke, right? - she asked her, continuing to keep her eyes fixed on the wall.
She didn't need to answer, her defeated look was enough for her to understand what had happened and also to communicate without the need to speak that she had actually already made her choice.
At that point, Vaggie sprang to her feet like a spring, startling her too, as she began to almost shout. - You can't do something so stupid! Adam is the most slimy and disgusting being in this fucking world, he won't give you a moment's peace for all eternity! -.
Charlie tried to take her hand to calm her down, but she pulled it back. - Vaggie, I have to do it for my people, I can't back out -.
The ex-angel ran her hands through her hair in exasperation. - Your people?! That bunch of degenerates out there?! - she yelled, pointing her finger at the window. - They don't deserve you or your sacrifice. And for what? For souls that would slaughter you if they only could! They don't deserve anything! -.
The princess felt terribly hurt by those words and got to her feet to confront her. - You wouldn't be alive if it weren't for my people -.
- I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you, I only owe them the fact that they made me end up down here! -.
Her heart broke when she heard her talk about her kingdom that way. She couldn't understand how important it was to her and she felt terribly alone at that moment. There was no one to understand her, what she wanted to do and how fundamental that mission was to her. She would give herself to accomplish it and she didn't care what she or her father thought, at that point her ideas were even clearer. Whether she stayed or not, she was still alone.
- Get out of here - she hissed, enraged.
Vaggie seemed to suddenly calm down when she heard her speak that way. - Charlie, I'm sorry, listen to me, I...
- Out! - she thundered again, pointing to the door.
Her friend remained motionless for a few seconds, while she let her arms fall along her sides as if defeated. She lowered her forehead towards the floor, it was evident that she wanted to tell her more and in her heart, she kept hoping she would tell her that she didn't want to lose her because she loved her, even though at that point it mattered little. All she got, however, was a sigh and to see her turn her back to leave through the door.
She put her hands to her face, letting herself fall along the edge of the bed, while she took off her jacket and threw it away, letting all the cards she had inside her pocket scatter around the room. She ran her fingers through her hair and then tried to massage her temples, while she tried to resume breathing regularly and calm the accelerated beats of her heart.
She felt like a lone wolf, the only one who was really trying to do something to improve the terrible situation they were living in, alone and abandoned even by the people who were closest to her. She passed her fingers over her eyes, while she still held back her tears. She thought she had exhausted them at least for that day, but apparently she was an inexhaustible and unquenchable source and she hated herself for being like that. She did nothing but cry every time things went wrong, whether it was out of anger, frustration, or genuine sadness.
She looked up at the cards scattered everywhere and one in particular caught her attention, also because it was a bright red with black embossed letters. She was certain she hadn't made it, considering she usually used colored markers on white cards and would certainly never have used a black marker to take notes; the colours helped her remember the notes she usually took better.
Crimson Wave, open every night said the writing on the front and she turned it over to see if there was anything else written. A neat and clean handwriting stood out on that small piece of card, precise and straight despite having been done without the aid of a ruler.
We will reserve a table for you every night, Princess
She jumped, risking it slipping from her hands when she read the message. The radio demon must have slipped it into her pocket when they clashed that same morning and she hadn't even noticed. He must have been really fast, because she didn't remember seeing him approach her jacket pocket.
A shiver ran down her spine at the idea of him doing that gesture as if it were the most natural thing in the world, while in her mind she began to understand why he seemed so sure of seeing her again. It wasn't just because of the fame of his club, he had practically given her a formal invitation. She sat on the floor with her legs crossed, as she wondered if, after all that had happened, it might be good for her to go out for one night.
Perhaps, it would be one of her last chances to be free.
Alastor came out of his room, while he adjusted his red bow tie and straightened the collar of his jacket. Even from the corridor he was walking down, he could already hear the jazz music that was playing inside the club and found himself moving a few steps alone, away from prying eyes and humming some of the notes that were being played, his cane twirling between his fingers and then resting back on the wooden floor.
He was sure the princess would visit him that evening, he felt it in his gut. Leaving her that card had been a daring move, but at the same time a brilliant one. Surely something like that would attract her curiosity and that was the important thing, and even if she didn't come that evening, he knew how to be patient for certain things.
He thought back to the strange way she had looked at him, a look different from the ones he almost always attracted to himself, which were usually filled with a delicious terror and fear. She had seemed agitated, tense, expressions that he couldn't quite understand.
He pushed the folding door that led to the back with his hand and then the wooden one that led directly to the kitchen, being enveloped by the sweet aroma of food.
A sudden flame near his face forced him to turn around and he saw Niffty intent on stirring, a splash of oil that had suddenly raised the flame. She, however, had simply widened her only eye in the centre of her face and laughed at that event, not at all touched by the risk of setting something on fire.
He crouched down towards her, and she gave him a satisfied smile. - Almost all ready, do you want to taste? - she asked him, passing a spoon near his mouth.
Alastor let himself be fed and then straightened up as he evaluated what he had just tasted. - Delicious - he commented, returning the smile. - Just be careful not to set the kitchen on fire, we don't want to repeat last month's unpleasant incident, do we? - he asked rhetorically, as he ran a hand through her short, thick pink hair.
Niffty let out a high-pitched giggle. - Fire - she hissed, her eye widening at the memory.
He looked through the porthole of the kitchen that led to the back of the counter where Husk had begun to prepare some cocktails. The dimly lit room was full of people and from that perspective he had a clear view of it. The regulars from Cannibal Town were at their usual table near the stage where one of the artists he had hired for that evening was performing, a fairly good pianist. Not as good as him, of course, but at least he was able to entertain his guests. He needed to be free that evening in case the princess showed up; so, he could leave the spotlight to someone else.
His shadow servants elegantly dressed were walking around the tables. He would not entrust a task like that to anyone else, all the waiters he had hired had proven to be terribly rude and so he had decided to use a small part of his power to create perfect employees for the job. They didn't talk too much, they weren't rude and, another thing of a certain relevance, they didn't have to be paid.
He decided to leave the kitchen, arriving behind Husk who greeted him with the grunt he usually used as a greeting and went to sit on one of the stools, the perfect spot to keep an eye on the entrance door.
The bartender observed him, while with the shaker he mixed some alcoholic beverages. - Are we waiting for someone tonight? - he asked, as he placed the ready drinks on a silver tray that was almost immediately taken away by one of the waiters.
He leaned his cane next to him, adjusting his monocle. - There's high chance that Princess Charlotte Morningstar will take part in this soirée -.
Husk remained with a glass in mid-air, while he blinked several times in his direction. - She's never come, what makes you think she will tonight? -.
- A feeling, mon ami - he replied serenely, as he made a glass full of his favorite whiskey appear between his clawed fingers.
The bartender probably would have liked to say something to him, but the door opened at that very moment and a head of blonde, shining hair entered the club. The princess looked around bewildered and amazed at the same time, her large crimson eyes observing every single corner of that club and Alastor smiled as he noticed that luck had decreed that she had come without any companions.
- I hate it when you're right - Husk commented, as he sighed in defeat.
He gave him a satisfied look, before getting off the stool and heading towards his prey.
Charlie had thought for hours about whether it was appropriate to accept that strange invitation or not, but in the end she had decided to go out. She wouldn't have felt like facing a dinner with her father and Vaggie and putting some distance between them seemed like a great idea, at least until she found herself looking disconsolately at the clothes in her closet. Nothing seemed suitable for the type of club she was going to and she had remained seated staring at the closet for at least half an hour desperately looking for something that not only she liked, but that didn't make her look horrible.
In the end, she had opted for a smoke grey dress with long sleeves that came to mid-thigh. It had a white collar and a women's tie that she had tied in a bow to match the one she had on her black shoes with a heel of a few centimetres. At first, she would have wanted to wear a pair of loafers with white socks at her ankles, but she looked more like a high school student than an adult and so in the end she had chosen to change them, giving up a little comfort in favor of something that would elongate her legs.
As soon as she entered, she was hit by a fragrance of inviting food and the smell of something ancient. A comfortable mix that had prompted her to venture a few steps beyond the door, before finding herself in a crowded environment. The huge room was surrounded by round tables and red velvet armchairs that surrounded the environment. The material that stood out the most was the dark wood, probably cherry, and in the centre of the ceiling there was a crystal drop chandelier, the only source of light that could be seen inside the dimly lit club. On the stage not far away, a pianist was passionately playing what sounded like jazz music, while well-dressed waiters who almost reminded her of shadows moved quickly around the tables carrying alcoholic beverages and food on silver trays.
She remained motionless at the door staring at that celebration of demons. She was quite agitated, especially because she had come alone and found herself hugging her arms around her waist, a deep desire in her to turn and go back. She felt completely out of place.
- Princess, what a pleasure to see you -.
A familiar voice reached her ears and in front of her she found the famous radio demon. He was standing straight in front of her, the sharp smile that stood out on his face along with his bright, crimson eyes. He held his arms behind his back where he held his cane and she felt almost overwhelmed by his confident and slender figure.
He leaned toward her and took the hand she was still hugging to her chest, then brought it to his lips to kiss the back of it. His warm, moist lips on that patch of skin immediately gave her an electric shock, but the contact lasted only a second and he was quick to let go so as not to go too far, and she was terribly grateful for that consideration.
- Charlie is fine - she found herself muttering, as her mouth went dry. - I found the card and I thought I would accept the invitation -.
He put an arm behind her back, inviting her to follow him without touching her. - I apologize if it seemed like a rude gesture, but it's so rare to see you around the city and I thought I'd take advantage of it –
She moved stiff as a board, terrified at the thought of walking through all that crowd. The people present, however, immediately moved out of the demon's way; they seemed terrified at the idea of getting in his path, and she began to realize that perhaps the stories she had heard about him were not just slander.
He escorted her to a table a little more secluded from the crowd and moved the chair for her to sit at the small table on which there was a candle, which he promptly lit with a snap of his fingers. He took a seat in front of her on the red velvet sofa, and she felt partly reassured not to be all alone, even though she certainly didn't expect him to take all that liberty.
- So, what would you like? - he asked her, as with a second snap of his fingers he made a menu appear in front of her, bound in burgundy leather with a black inscription in the centre bearing the name of the club.
Everything was meticulously taken care of down to the smallest detail, but given the demon in front of her, she should have expected it.
She smoothed her dress on her legs, as she began to flip through it distractedly so as not to look him directly in the eyes. - I don't really know, what do you recommend Alastor? - she asked, immediately calling herself stupid for addressing him informally when he was stubbornly using the formal form. - I'm sorry, I meant, what do you recommend to me? -.
The demon's eyes vibrated for a second. - Oh, chérie, if you'll allow me, I'll be happy to address you informally as well –
Charlie felt studied by that demon, who seemed polite and at the same time terribly unsettling. - Um... of course, you can address me informally. Can I too? -.
- Certainement! - he replied in perfect French.
She nodded, trying to smile as relaxed as possible. - As you may have noticed, I already know your name - she replied.
Alastor's eyes widened, as he tilted his head to the side. - I imagine my reputation precedes me. I hope you haven't given credence to the slander about me - he said, pointing to his chest and putting on a scowl.
Charlie swallowed with difficulty, as she felt the palms of her hands begin to sweat profusely. - Oh, but I never believe what's said around, I always think people need to be known - she replied hastily, also because that's what she really thought.
Alastor widened his smile even more, as he settled better into the back of the armchair. - I'm happy you think this way, I would have been sorry to lose the opportunity to get to know you because of malicious tongues -.
She returned to looking at the menu, then turned back to the demon in front of her. - So, what does my host recommend? - she tried to joke, suddenly feeling more at ease after that brief exchange of words.
The demon seemed happy that she asked him again and pointed to a particular dish on the menu without, however, stopping looking at her, he probably knew it so well by now that he didn't even need to look to know what he was pointing at.
- I don't know how hungry you are, but the jambalaya is a family recipe, it's delicious - he commented with satisfaction. - As for alcoholic beverages, how strong would you like it, chérie?-.
She quickly raised her hands toward him. - Light, I'm not used to drinking -.
Alastor nodded as if he was satisfied. - Tres bien, I'd say the Eternal Echo might be for you - he replied, then pointing to the next page to show her the ingredients. It was a cocktail made with sparkling wine, Saint Germain liqueur, and a few drops of lemon and strawberry juice. It seemed suitable and she nodded, intrigued by the selection.
The demon raised an arm attracting the attention of one of the waiters, who took the order and then almost dissolved. Charlie remained staring at the small dark little man with curiosity, not understanding what kind of demon he could be.
- Intrigued by my employees? - he asked her, a glass of whiskey that had suddenly appeared between his fingers.
She sat up straight in her chair for having been caught spying. - No, it's just that I had never seen demons like those -.
He laughed, as he placed his lips on the crystal glass. - Let's say they are very... familiar to me - he replied, then snapped his fingers and made another one appear next to them, who immediately moved away to go to work.
Charlie held back her jaw from dropping, she had never seen a thing like that. - Wow! - she found herself exclaiming, then putting a hand over her mouth for that sudden exclamation.
- Mercì - he replied. - Happy to have surprised you -.
Her drink arrived in the blink of an eye and she observed the crystal flute rimmed with black coloured sugar, the liquid a faded red probably due to the strawberry that had been added.
She turned to the bartender a little distance away who was watching them with interest, but who averted his gaze as soon as he noticed that she was looking at him. She took the glass between her fingers bringing it to her lips under the demon's curious gaze. The bubbles tickled her nose and throat and she had to hold herself back from sneezing in front of him, but she loved the taste so much that what was supposed to be a small sip turned into drinking almost half of it.
- Very good - she commented with embarrassment, when she saw that the glass was already almost half empty.
Alastor looked at her with a closed smile. - We are very careful about the quality of what we serve, skill is seen in the small details - he said, pointing with his index finger to the strawberry that was floating on the bottom cut in the shape of a small star.
She wondered if it was a reference to her last name, but she didn't have the courage to ask him. - I can see that, everything here is... perfect - she blurted out as her eyes wandered over the minimal and dark furnishings.
Her dish arrived in a short time and the intense aroma of spices made her mouth water. She couldn't wait any longer and began to eat after carefully arranging the napkin on her legs. For the umpteenth time that evening, she was amazed at how good what she was tasting was, to the point that she even forgot she had someone sitting with her and that she should at least try to have a minimal conversation given his kindness.
She looked up in his direction with her cheeks still full and hated herself for her constant clumsiness in situations like that. Meeting new people excited and at the same time terribly agitated her, so much so that she always ended up only going out with the few people she knew, no matter how strong the desire to make friends was.
She tried to regain her composure, while she resumed drinking to disguise her embarrassment. - So... was it just to show me the club that you invited me? - she asked, then mentally slapping herself on the forehead. Were those the right questions to ask?
Alastor's eyes widened for a second, his scarlet ears vibrating as if he were embarrassed by that question. - Is the honor of having the princess of Hell in my club not a sufficient reason? - he asked her in turn, while with a finger he adjusted the monocle that had slipped down his nose.
Charlie let out an embarrassed giggle. - Yes, stupid question - she blurted out, drinking again. - It's just that I don't go out much - she found herself saying, perhaps due to the little alcohol she had drunk.
- I find that hard to believe - Alastor replied. - Someone like you must have a busy schedule of social events to attend –
She scratched the back of her neck, trying to hide the obvious blush that was colouring her cheeks. She would have liked to tell him that she was a busy person, but the truth was that in the last few months all she had managed to do was think about that project that now hung over her head like a Sword of Damocles and so she had practically stopped having a social life.
- In truth, no -she murmured. - I'm quite... solitary - she lied shamelessly.
The demon laughed with amusement. - I understand you, chérie, I also appreciate the company of a few people and I very much enjoy moments of solitude -.
Charlie forced her lips into a smile. - Then I don't want to keep you any longer, I imagine you have other guests you might want to see. You're not obligated to stay here -.
For a crazy moment, Alastor's smile seemed to soften, as he half-closed his eyelids and leaned toward her. - I am exactly where I want to be -.
Her body was covered in shivers, while her mouth suddenly became dry again. He had spoken that sentence with a tone so warm that she thought she could have caught fire at that very instant, and she felt terribly embarrassed by his words. She drew her head into her shoulders, while a strange giggle came out of her lips involuntarily.
- Anyway - he resumed speaking. - When you want to, you are welcome, this table is yours whenever you want -.
- There's no need, I don't want to be a bother - she said hastily, thinking that in a few days she would have to disappear anyway.
He moved his hand indifferently. - Your company is definitely pleasant, chérie, I would appreciate having you here more often -.
Charlie blinked, stunned. She couldn't understand why she felt so bewildered by those words that he spoke with total serenity, after all, she was used to the flattery of the demons of Hell. Yet, whatever came out of his thin lips seemed terribly true, as if at that moment she was the most important person in that room and he really believed it. She thought it was impossible to have made an impression on someone like him, also because not only were there stories about his wickedness, but also about his total indifference to any carnal contact. For this reason, the fact that he was giving her all that attention left her even more bewildered.
A figure appeared at the side of the table and Charlie recognized the bartender who had been stationed behind the bar until a few minutes before. He was nervously scratching the back of his neck, while his ears were held back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Alastor's gaze had narrowed, as if he wanted to subtly threaten him to disappear.
- I'm sorry to interrupt, boss - he began in a hoarse voice. - but the table from Cannibal Town is requesting your presence -.
The demon sighed, lowering his eyelids, then stood up. - I'll be right there, mon ami - he replied annoyed, but his expression immediately changed when he turned to her. - It pains me to have to leave you alone, chérie, but if you return tomorrow, I will be happy to delve further into our friendly acquaintance - he said, then took her hand and kissed the back of it again, while he bowed slightly.
She smiled at him, but before she could tell him that unfortunately she couldn't come back, he vanished in a cloud of smoke to reappear at a table in the centre of the room, where he was greeted with an ovation.
She turned to the bartender who was still standing in front of her. - The drink is really good, congratulations -.
His fur bristled as he almost seemed to blush at that comment. - Thanks, give a shout if you want another one - he said, before turning his back on her and disappearing.
Charlie finished her dish, then began to twist the stem of the glass between her fingers while listening to the music. It was the first time that being alone wasn't causing her terrible annoyance and she wondered if it was because of the kindness with which she had been welcomed. She observed for a second the demon behind her back who was entertaining the guests at the other table and who seemed to be having a lot of fun in his company and smiled softly.
Maybe I could come back tomorrow too she found herself thinking, as she took her purse to go to the counter to pay.
She found one of the shadow waiters, who however stopped her with a wave of his hand when she tried to pay. - It's all taken care of, the house is offering -.
She remained with the money in mid-air, turning to the radio demon still sitting at the table, who upon seeing her raised his glass in her direction and then gave her a friendly wink.
She returned his smile without embarrassment this time, raising her hand in turn to greet him as she headed for the door.
She could grant herself another evening in that place where for a moment the painful thoughts had been calmed. It would be a pleasant interlude between her old life and what awaited her.
Notes:
Here I am again!
I must admit that I am enjoying translating this story; it allows me to relive it in a way. Once again, I hope I haven't made too many mistakes >.<
Alastor and Charlie finally meet officially! Our dear Bambi seems to have evil plans for the Princess, but he still doesn't know that she will soon have to disappear for the wedding. Charlie seems convinced of her choice... who knows how events will unfold.
As always, I thank those who read and those who review this story <3
See you soon!
Chapter Text
Alastor couldn't have been more satisfied with how things had gone the previous evening. The princess had shown up at the venue exactly as he'd predicted and seemed very impressed with what he had put together. Not that he expected anything less; he was well aware that he was good at grabbing people's attention, even a royal like her.
Moreover, against all odds, she had seemed quite taken with his presence, although he couldn't say the same for himself. She seemed like a simple woman, nothing special. It certainly wasn't her charms that attracted him, but rather her crown.
The plan he had in mind for her was very simple, to the point that it would be difficult for anyone to see malice or wickedness in it. He would befriend her as much as possible and patiently wait for the day she needed something important, which he would then provide on a silver platter—of course, in exchange for her soul. She, most likely, wouldn't refuse him, since he would have already earned her unconditional trust by that point. If she absolutely wouldn't give him her soul, he would settle for asking for a small, tiny favour in return.
He stood up briskly, his own shadow watching him with a bright smile that he promptly returned, as he started the record player in his room to get dressed to some relaxing music. The only sour note had been that group from Cannibal Town that had insisted on having him at their table, but he was once again certain she would return; he had seen it in the look she had given him before she left.
He grabbed his staff and headed back to the venue, where Husk and Niffty were already busy cleaning up for the evening ahead. They would move some tables to set up the dance floor; he deeply loved those nights so he could show off his skill, and if the princess actually showed up, he would be able to impress her once again.
A tuft of white fur at the counter caught his attention, and he found himself gritting his teeth.
- You're here again - he commented nervously.
The spider demon turned toward him, winking with a glass in his hand first thing in the morning. - Good morning to you too, Smiles. It's a pleasure to see you again too -.
Angel Dust, a pale imitation of a cheap actor who starred in those disgusting porn films. He found him at the venue even when it was closed almost every single morning, but he was also useful to him at the moment, so, even though he was reluctant, he had found himself having to accept his cumbersome presence. He was, in fact, an excellent infiltrator in the Vee's headquarters, and as long as they didn't discover that he was tipping Alastor off about every plan they had, he had to keep him sweet.
He rubbed his eyes wearily. - Do you have any news? - he asked him, his good mood already wavering.
He shrugged. - Not for the moment, it seems that after your last friendly meeting, Vox took a break from his plans to conquer territory - he replied, as he resumed drinking.
Alastor narrowed his eyes. - Then why are you here? -.
In response, he showed him the glass. - Because it's the only place I can drink without paying; the price of crack went up -.
Husk leaned the broom against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. - Speaking of news, can you let us in on what you have in mind for the princess? -.
Angel's eyes widened. - Charlie was here?! I haven't seen her in ages! -.
The radio demon looked at them, annoyed. - And you won't see her for a while yet; you ruin the image of the place -.
The spider demon pulled back his tuft of hair with an arrogant air. - At most, I lower the average age and spice up this morgue a little -.
He exhaled from his lungs to avoid tearing his arms off, then turned back to Husk. - Anyway, nothing that involves her death, if that can console your soft little heart. I just wanted to get to know her better -.
The bartender replied with a middle finger as he went to take his place behind the counter to restock the bar that had emptied after the previous evening.
Angel spun on the stool to face him completely. - Are you trying to get in her pants? Because it pains me to inform you that she's probably a lesbian -.
Hearing those terms, Alastor's ears vibrated and his smile cracked into a disgusted expression - I'm not interested in such frivolities -.
- Call them frivolities, it's what feeds me - he replied with a tired laugh. - By the way, do you have a spare place to sleep? Rent went up and Val won't give me a raise -.
An involuntary radio hiss escaped his lips as he felt his shadow stir agitatedly. - Ask your boss; I'm sure he'll be very happy to give you a place to stay-.
Angel huffed. - If I hole up and live in there, it'll be hard to get out to give you information, so it's to your advantage, too, Smiles -.
He gripped his staff so tightly he thought he would snap it in half. That unbearable character grated on his sensitive nerves with his mere presence, and he had to repeat to himself for the thousandth time that he couldn't rip his limbs off—not as long as he worked for those three.
- I'll see what I can do - he replied in a whisper, as he made to leave, before turning to Husk with a sneer. - Husker, until we can get his room sorted out, he can stay with you -.
- No fucking way! - he blurted out, jumping to his feet, but bumping his head on the box of liquor just above him. - I'm not sharing a room with him! -.
Angel leaned over the counter to scratch him under the chin with a finger. - It could be fun, whiskers -.
Husk irritably shoved his hand away. - Fuck you! -.
- You could -.
- Alastor, damn it, get him out of here! -.
The radio demon left them to argue alone as he prepared to begin his morning stroll.
That afternoon, Charlie was still turning the note Alastor had left her over in her fingers while she lay on her bed. She was trying to avoid both Vaggie and her father in every way possible; she didn't feel ready to talk to them yet after the previous day's arguments, and they seemed to have accepted her forced silence all too well.
She turned on her side as she placed the card on the nightstand and snuggled into her soft pillow. The previous night had been very pleasant, especially thanks to the presence of that strange, smiling demon. She hated to admit it, but he had managed to impress her.
Maybe it was his demeanour, so confident and calm, that had made her terribly curious to learn more about him. She truly couldn't believe he was the same Overlord who was famous for broadcasting his victims' screams live; she couldn't put those two images together in her mind. She found him nice, pleasant, and with that brief conversation, he had been able to get her to shut her brain off from all the anxiety that was gripping her at the moment. There were only two days left until the meeting with Adam, and the mere idea made her sick to her stomach. She was supposed to put together a coherent speech, clarify some points about that forced union, but just thinking about it made her throat close up.
She really needed words of comfort from the two people she held dearest, but she had never felt them more distant than she did right then. Their advice might have helped her, but both of them categorically rejected the idea of her going down that path.
I wonder what someone as confident as Alastor would think, she found herself thinking. He would certainly have a solution to that problem. She was sure he wouldn't let anyone walk all over him, and he would know the best things to say that day.
Her cell phone suddenly vibrated, and she reached out to see who was texting her.
Her eyes widened when she saw Angel Dust's name on the screen. It had been years since they had spoken, ever since he had sold his soul to Valentino. When she had started considering the possibility of redeeming souls, he had immediately come to mind. She couldn't stand knowing he was under the thumb of that slimy being; before that event, he was one of her very best friends.
“A little bird told me you were at the Crimson Wave yesterday! Finally coming out of your cave again?”
How had he found out? Had Alastor talked about her to Angel? She flushed at the mere thought, as the cell phone almost slipped from her trembling fingers. It was impossible; he would never do something like that. The radio demon seemed very private and certainly wouldn't go broadcasting that information to the world.
She quickly replied to the message.
“Hi! I haven't heard from you in forever... who told you?”
She couldn't resist; she needed to know. She didn't even know why, but in some strange way, she hoped it had been Alastor himself who had mentioned her, maybe saying she was nice and that he found her to be a lovely person as a friend.
When her cell phone vibrated again, she rushed to read the message as if it were from a potential lover.
“The bartender is a friend of mine. He told me he saw you. Hey, do you want to hang out late this afternoon? Maybe we can go back to the club afterward”
She found herself feeling quite disappointed by that response. Predictably, Alastor hadn't spoken about her to anyone, and she didn't understand why she felt so discontented about it. Maybe she had embroidered too much on his kindness; after all, he was the manager of a club, and his job was to make people feel at ease, and he had probably behaved with her just as he did with anyone else. Besides, even if she had wanted to form a lasting friendship, she couldn't, given the insignificant detail of her impending arranged marriage.
She refocused on Angel's message, thinking about what to do. She knew she should stay with her father and Vaggie, as they would probably want to talk things out with her, but she still wasn't ready for that titanic confrontation. Rationally, she also knew she was just making up all those excuses to avoid them and that she would have accepted anyone's invitation just to get out of that house, which had suddenly turned into a prison.
“Okay, I'll meet you at your studio? I'll wait for you there when you get off work, maybe”
She quickly composed the message but didn't even wait for a reply before getting out of bed to start figuring out what to wear. Razzle and Dazzle were sleeping peacefully on the rug and only woke up when they noticed she was doing nothing but sighing. For the umpteenth time, she had no idea what to put on, considering she would have to attend two different occasions. The first, going out with Angel, would surely require something casual and not too demanding, but if they really were to go back to Alastor's club, it was necessary for her to wear something suitable for the environment.
Putting on the same dress was out of the question, and she found herself sitting on the floor again, staring at the open closet doors, scanning every single item of clothing she owned. The predominant colour was obviously red, but she didn't want the radio demon to think she was wearing it to imitate him. So, she was forced to eliminate most of her go-to outfits.
The two little flying rams began to sniff around inside, inadvertently causing many of the hangers to fall to the floor along with the clothes they were holding.
- Watch out! - she scolded them good-naturedly. - This is a complicated decision without you making a mess -.
She got to her feet to pick up the fallen clothes, but thanks to that small accident, she managed to get her hands on something perfect. It was a simple black three-button jacket, slightly tight at the waist. For her outing with Angel, it would be enough to pair it with a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, but if she took those off and buttoned it up, it would transform into an elegant and unique dress. The difficult part was still choosing the shoes since she didn't want to carry an overly large bag.
She looked at the loafers she had discarded the previous night, whose golden details seemed to perfectly match the buttons on the jacket, and decided they would go well with what she had in mind.
She also had time to take a nice refreshing shower and let the hot water wash away at least some of the built-up tension. She should have at least tried to focus on the upcoming meeting instead of continuing to postpone the problem, but she continued to hold out the vain hope that a different solution than that marriage would come from above. Maybe by relaxing, she would find some other kind of path that didn't necessarily require it. Maybe she just needed to think about something else to get a different perspective on the problem... or maybe she was just telling herself that to avoid facing the harsh reality.
Once she finished washing up, she retrieved her phone. Angel had confirmed the time and place and seemed intent on seeing her as soon as possible. She was happy to see him again; it had terribly hurt her that he no longer had much time for her, but he seemed to have been completely sucked in by Valentino. She didn't know the terms of their pact; he hadn't wanted to tell her, but their relationship had become even more strained when she had told him she found the demon slimy and terrifying. Angel had flown into a rage and started making excuses to postpone all their outings until she simply stopped trying.
She grabbed her shoulder bag and left her room after saying goodbye to Razzle and Dazzle, walking quickly through the villa's corridors until she reached the living room. The reddish light from the hellish sky filtered in through the enormous windows, tinging the light marble floor with a soft, brilliant pink.
- Char-Char, where are you going? -.
Her father's voice made her freeze with her foot in mid-air, as her blood ran cold in her veins. She slowly turned in the direction the voice had come from and saw her father's top hat peeking out from the red velvet armchair, facing the lit fireplace. From the armrest, she also saw one of his clawed hands resting along the edge, holding a glass of brandy that he was swirling slowly.
I should have expected this sooner or later, she thought dejectedly, as she walked with an uncertain step toward the small sitting area past the arch from which he had called her.
She leaned over the armchair, finding him with his legs stretched out on the footrest that matched the other armchairs. His eyes were fixed on the fire, and one hand rested on his cheek. His gaze was lost, tired. It was clear he hadn't slept the night before, especially because the tuft of blond hair sticking out from his hat was pointing in every direction as if he had tormented it for hours.
She tried to clear her throat. - I wanted to go out with a friend - she whispered in a hoarse voice.
The seraph nodded. - Would you mind sitting down for a moment first? Vaggie and I would like to talk to you -.
She looked up and noticed that in a corner, sitting in a chair near the wooden side table that lined Lucifer's liquor reserve, was her friend. She had her back against the wood and her gaze lowered, wringing her hands. This was certainly an unexpected turn of events. She hadn't thought she would be lectured by both of them at once.
- I don't want to be late - she ventured, as her hands tormented the strap of the bag she was carrying on her shoulder.
Lucifer turned to her with a serious look. – Sit -.
As if she were still a scolded child, she found herself practically throwing herself into the armchair next to her father's, almost sinking into it with the force of the gesture she had just made. The blood seemed to flow terribly slowly through her veins, and the only thing to break that silence was the crackle of the fire popping like the beats of her agitated heart.
The king brought the glass to his lips and took a long sip before speaking. - I'm sorry for this ambush, but it's clear you're doing your worst to avoid thinking about the matter -.
Charlie pulled her head into her shoulders, feeling terribly cornered. It wasn't entirely true, also because she thought it was clear she had already made her choice, but she was certainly trying not to think about it too much, however stupid that was.
- Dad, I... -.
He interrupted her with a wave of his hand. - Let me finish - he said in a peremptory tone. - Your friend and I talked at length about this matter this morning. We think you're not lucid enough to face the meeting the day after tomorrow, and you'd make a decision that's far too stupid. For that reason, you're going to stay here, and I'll go and talk to that asshole and settle the matter once and for all -.
She was frozen. She had no idea what to say. She felt disheartened by that stance. He was treating her like a poor crazy person, incapable of making decisions for herself in a clear and rational manner, not wanting to see, for the umpteenth time, how hard she was trying to save their kingdom. She felt her throat tight in a vise and cast an icy glance toward Vaggie, who flinched in response. Even she, the person who had been closest to her all these years, had somehow thought she wasn't smart enough to make a choice like that. They were just overriding her as they would with a baby.
- And what do you have in mind? - she hissed at her father, as her grip on her bag strap became so tight she could have cut it with her nails.
Lucifer took off his hat to rest it on his lap while he tried to smooth his hair with his fingers. - I'll simply tell him it's not going to happen, now or ever. As far as I'm concerned, they can continue to do whatever they want with sinners' souls as they always have, but they won't lay a finger on you -.
Charlie sat up abruptly. - No! - she yelled with all the air in her lungs, her voice echoing off the walls of the room. - You won't do something like that! The choice is only mine -.
- Charlie, listen to us, we're doing this for you - Vaggie tried to intervene, moving closer to them. - You can't accept a proposal like this; it's a way to subjugate you -.
She turned to the ex-angel, looking at her coldly, tears of frustration beginning to sting her eyes and blur her vision. - Do you really think I'm so stupid I don't know that? But unlike you, I really care about the souls that end up here -.
Lucifer ran a hand over his eyes. - They are people who received the gift of free will and only knew how to use it to do a bunch of bullshit in life. They don't deserve a second chance -.
- Are you talking about them or about you? - she hissed, full of too much anger to weigh her words.
Her father's gaze blazed at her. - I am still your father, Charlie, and you owe me respect -.
She met his fiery eyes, even stepping closer to him. She had never dared to do so much with her father, and not because she was afraid of him, but simply because she loved him too much. Those words, however, were making her furious, and at that point, she didn't care about etiquette or so-called respect. Where was the respect toward her? Where were the kind words for what she was trying to do?
- Mom would have understood me; she really cared about others! She cared about this kingdom! - she yelled, some tears having escaped her control, streaking down her face.
Lucifer then stood up. Despite his small stature, he seemed to grow bigger in the face of those words. - And look what a great job she did! She abandoned both her beloved kingdom and us! Is that really the example you want to follow? -.
- It's better than yours! You've never lifted a finger for your people - she yelled again.
By now, she was a raging river whose banks had broken, with no rationality to hold her back. She felt trampled, deprived of the opportunity to have an opinion or to do what she felt was right. She wouldn't lose this argument either, even at the cost of hurting him. She loved her father, but in that moment, she truly couldn't see things his way. She needed to take that step to prove to both herself and all of Hell that there was another way. She needed it like oxygen in her lungs.
It was evident that Lucifer was suffering from what she had said, but she truly couldn't stop herself. She didn't think she would ever reach that point; she couldn't even understand where all that hatred was coming from, her, who had always been so submissive toward the people she loved. However, she had felt so alone in the most difficult moment she was facing that it was like discovering a fierce part of herself, one that was trying to at least partially protect her from suffering even more.
Her father sighed before speaking again. - If you do it, forget about me -.
The anger then extinguished as quickly as it had come, replaced by a sharp pain in her chest that momentarily took her breath away. He had spoken those words so seriously that it was impossible to think of it as a bluff; it was really what he meant.
Vaggie's eye widened when she heard him speak like that. - Sir...- she whispered, shocked.
Before she could say anything else, the king turned his back on both and left the room, leaving the two of them alone.
Charlie was motionless, her fists still clenched and her breath short from what she had heard. He had put her in front of an absurd choice, making it even clearer how little he was able to understand her.
Her friend approached, trying to touch her shoulder, but she backed away. - Don't touch me - she whispered, her gaze still fixed on the armchair where her father had been sitting just moments before.
- Charlie, please sit down. Let's talk about it, the two of us, calmly. I'm sure if you think about it with a cool head, you'll understand it's better this way. You can't save them - Vaggie tried once more.
She blinked, pushing back the lump that was pressing on her throat and seemed to be strangling her. - Better to exterminate them like you used to, right? - she said venomously, before turning her back on her and leaving as well.
She slammed the door and strode toward the city, the air whipping her face and drying what remained of the tears she had just shed. She felt her heart ache as if it were being crushed at that very moment, her stomach churning to the point that she had to stop for a second to avoid vomiting up the bile that was rising in her throat like poison.
She leaned against one of the buildings' walls, resting one hand on it and the other on her chest. She tried to catch her breath, but it was terribly difficult in that moment. Everything was so wrong, so absurd, so lacking in any logic. She was the one who needed support, and she was being denied it by the people she loved most in all of Hell, and she truly couldn't understand that. She had always done everything for both. She had gone out of her way when they were feeling bad. She had cared for them and helped them in times of need, and they, instead of giving her their support and maybe thinking of a solution that didn't involve trampling on her dreams, had made her feel like a crazy visionary.
She gritted her teeth and sniffled, wiping away the last tear with her fingertips. At that point, it was useless to try with them anymore. She would do what she had to, and she was more certain of it than she had been before. She would enjoy these last moments; no one could take them away from her.
With that new conviction, she resumed walking toward the V Tower where she was to meet Angel, once again showing off her best smile. She wouldn't let them ruin the memory of her home for her. Maybe her old friend would understand... maybe new friends would understand.
She'd been waiting for Angel to come out of the studios for almost half an hour. Arriving early hadn't been a great idea, considering her old friend was also a chronic latecomer, and she found herself staring at the sky above her, her back against the studio wall, waiting for him to finally show up.
She had managed to recover a serene appearance, at least on the surface, and at that moment, she couldn't wait to see him again. He would surely find a way to make her forget that absurd situation once and for all. She had long wondered about the possibility of telling him about it, but she would see how things went; she didn't want to burden him with her troubles on their first outing, however much it risked being their last.
The glass sliding door opened, and she finally saw him come out. He looked quite destroyed, but after taking a deep breath and putting on his sunglasses, he seemed to regain the swagger she had always seen him with. He turned toward her and gave her a wide smile, his gold tooth sparkling in the sun.
- There you are! - he began cheerfully. - I'll admit, I thought you were going to bail on me at the last minute -.
Charlie widened her smile in return, walking toward him with her arm raised. - Angel! I'm so happy to see you - she couldn't help herself and hugged him tightly, blocking a couple of his arms while the others remained up in the air.
- Wow, I wasn't expecting such a warm welcome - he commented with a slight embarrassment in his voice as he gently pushed her away with his free arms.
The princess blushed, realizing that, as always, she had let herself go too much. - Sorry, I'm just excited - she stammered, scratching the back of her head.
Angel gave her a genuine smile before taking her arm to guide her down the street. - So, where do you want to go? -.
She thought about it for a bit, since she hadn't actually planned anything, as he had been the one to ask her out, and she thought he probably already had some place in mind to take her. - Hmm... to the ice cream parlor we always used to go to? The one near Cannibal Town -.
He shook his head. - Negative, the owner died during the last Extermination. Now it's a liquor store - he replied, lighting a cigarette.
She felt her stomach churn at the news. As much as she tried to avoid them, problems seemed to want to hound her at all costs that day. There was no way to evade them, and she found herself sighing as she looked at the asphalt, idly kicking some stones.
Her friend immediately noticed her behaviour and lowered himself toward her. - It's not the end of the world; there must be twenty other ice cream parlors in this neighbourhood -.
She tried to shake it off and smile at him. - Yes, you're right. I'll let you be my guide -.
Angel lowered his glasses to look her over. - I know that look. Problems? -
You have no idea how many, she thought, forcing the best smile she could. - Let's not talk about it now; let's try to have fun! -.
He didn't seem convinced by her answer, and she knew him well enough to know that look would mean a definite interrogation once they sat down at a table.
- Whatever you want. I'll lead the way then - he replied, then had her turn around to take another street.
The streets were quite empty at that hour, as was the ice cream parlor he took her to. She found herself staring at the sign that was emblazoned with the name -Phil's Frozen Balls- and widened her eyes, thinking it wasn't a particularly attractive name for an ice cream parlor.
Angel sat down in front of one of the metal tables outside and invited her to do the same. At that point, she had no choice but to follow him and wait for the waiter to arrive to take their order, while idly scanning the flavours on the laminated menu left outside. She had always had the same ice cream since she was a child: vanilla with strawberry syrup and coloured sprinkles.
- So - Angel began, taking off his glasses and adjusting his tuft of hair. - Any news from high society? -.
Charlie trembled for a second, then gave him yet another fake smile. - Nothing new - she squeaked out. - The same boring life as always -.
The demon looked her up and down. - You're no good at lying, you know? - he replied with an ironic air, then leaned toward her. - And you answered my invitation way too quickly, which means you're obviously trying to get out of the house by any means necessary; I know you -.
Her cheeks were starting to hurt from the effort of keeping her lips pulled up, but with that answer, she felt them definitely waver until they returned to a completely neutral position as she felt her eyelids droop as if exhausted. - Is it that obvious? - she asked in a whisper.
Before he could answer, the supposed Phil showed up at their table to take their order. He was a demon who looked like a rather squat polar bear and arrived in front of them with a notebook to write down what they would have. His white fur was stained with the various ice cream flavours he served, and Charlie found herself wondering how that was possible despite the dark apron he wore around his obvious furry belly.
- What'll you have? - he asked in a deep, hoarse voice as he licked the remnants of chocolate or coffee ice cream from his muzzle.
Charlie tried to say her order but was immediately interrupted by Angel. - Two rum affogatos, very affogato - he replied for her.
The princess tried to get Phil's attention to stop the order, but he had already taken his way back to the entrance, leaving her in the lurch. - Angel! You know I'm not used to alcohol -.
In response, he rolled his eyes. - Relax, it's not that strong, and it's the best thing you'll find, trust me - he replied with a huff.
She slid down in her chair, as she tortured the hem of her jacket with a sigh. – Fine - she mumbled, too tired to try and fight with him too.
- Now tell me what's going on in your life - her friend resumed prodding her, sliding his chair on the asphalt to get closer.
Charlie looked away, trying to look natural. - Oh, it's nothing serious! You know, the usual political stuff: meetings with the Angels, social events, the usual boring things you've always hated -.
- And Vaggie? Did you manage to win her over? -.
Another stab hit her in the chest, and she found herself biting her lip to keep a gasp from escaping her throat. Not only had she not won her over, but what had happened had driven them apart, and now she didn't even feel like she was her friend anymore.
Angel's hand caressed her shoulder as he smiled at her warmly. - Got it, sore spot - he mumbled. - Relationships are always complicated -.
She didn't miss the sad way he blurted out those words and his sudden change in expression. She was aware that Valentino had managed to get close to him also because Angel was initially attracted to that slimy being. She had never been able to explain why, but it no longer mattered. The moth demon had used that influence to con his soul out of him, and from that moment on, whatever there had been before had been wiped away, and her friend had found himself in a decidedly difficult situation to handle. He had slowly changed; he had always been an exuberant and ironic guy, but in the last few times they had seen each other, it was evident that he was trying to hide his pain behind his attitude and that he categorically refused to open up so he wouldn't have to suffer more.
She placed her hand on the one he had on the table to squeeze it. - Do you want to talk about it? - she asked, trying not to force him.
Angel seemed to shake himself off and pulled his hand away, a smile back on his face. - And about what, Charlie? I'm great, can't you tell? - he said, pointing to himself.
Failed attempt, Charlie thought with a sigh, realizing it was useless to try again. She had tried for months, and she didn't want that to be a reason for argument again. She needed him at that moment, and she was also pretending, so she couldn't be a hypocrite.
That conversation was interrupted by Phil's return, who placed the glass cups filled with more rum than ice cream on the table, then remained motionless with his hand outstretched toward them.
Charlie went to get her wallet, but Angel stopped her. - You can pay next time, okay? - he replied, placing the banknotes in the owner's hand.
If there is a next time, Charlie thought sadly, starting to stir the long spoon inside the glass, trying to get to one of the two scoops of ice cream floating inside before they melted.
The first spoonful she took lit a fire in her throat and stomach as soon as she swallowed it. It was definitely stronger than she would have expected, but since it had been offered, she would feel ungrateful to refuse and decided she would do her best to at least eat the vanilla ice cream, which, once she reached it, was decidedly good.
- Getting back to us, will you tell me what's going on? You've never been so silent, and you're starting to worry me - her friend started talking again, who was stirring his ice cream, turning the whole thing into a kind of alcoholic milkshake.
She shrugged, wiping the ice cream remaining at the corners of her mouth. - I had a slight argument with my father - she replied evasively.
Angel raised an eyebrow. - That sweetheart of a father of yours? And what did you do? -
- I'm getting married - she found herself blurting out, immediately regretting saying it.
In response, her friend almost choked on the rum and started coughing, and she tapped him on the back to keep him from choking. His eyes were wide and teary, and he stared at her, shocked.
- What?! And to who?! - he yelled.
That's the problem, she thought, calling herself stupid for letting it slip, but it hadn't been rational. A deep part of her terribly needed an external point of view, someone who would advise her without judging, and Angel had always been the right person for that task before Vaggie came along.
She twirled a lock of her hair around her index finger as she drank that mix of ice cream and rum to try and calm her nerves. - Well... let's just say it's a diplomatic marriage -.
Angel's eyes widened even more, and he turned toward the bar, waving his arms. - Phil! Give me two more! -.
- Oh no, please, I can barely handle this one - she commented desperately.
He turned back to her. - They're for me; I must digest this news - he exclaimed. - Do arranged marriages still exist?! And who did he set you up with? -.
She let herself slump along the edge of the metal chair. - He didn't set me up with anyone... I decided it -.
- Charlie, you better start talking clearly, because you're worrying me! -.
At that point, she found herself talking like a flood. She told him every single thing from the beginning: her idea of redeeming souls to stop the Extermination, the meeting, Adam's proposal, and finally, her father's and Vaggie's reaction. As she spoke, she found herself gesticulating like a madwoman, continuing to gulp down one sip of the alcoholic drink after another until she completely emptied her glass. When she finished, she rests her elbows on the table to hold her head in her hands, completely exhausted and drained, but finally lighter. It had been therapeutic to talk about it and be able to put those words in order and finally make sense of them, to make everything real in her eyes to get clarity for herself as well. At the same time, however, it had also been chilling. Now that she had confessed everything, things had become real, and she felt trapped, realizing how much she was about to lose with that choice.
She looked up at Angel, who was staring at her as if frozen, two empty glasses in front of him and yet another lit cigarette between his fingers. He seemed to have gone completely on standby, and his expression was flat, as if all the words she had poured out to him hadn't quite reached his brain yet. The cigarette was burning down without him touching it, and some ash ended up falling into the empty glass under his hand.
Finally, he seemed to snap out of it, blinking a couple of times and coughing. - Um... all this just yesterday? - he asked, perplexed.
She nodded. - Or rather, I've had the idea of redemption for months now. As for the marriage and the rest, it all happened yesterday morning -.
Angel ran a hand over his forehead to massage it. - There's a lot to process - he commented, resuming drinking. - I'm not sure what to say, to be honest -.
- Do you think I'm crazy? - she asked sadly, lowering her eyes to her jeans.
She saw him straighten up in his chair. - No, not that! Coming from me, it would be pretty hypocritical, considering who I sold my soul to. At least you're doing it for a noble cause - he mumbled. - But I'm still worried, Charlie; it doesn't seem like a good thing for you -.
She massaged her temples with her fingers, the rum slowly beginning to take effect, making her feel groggy and numb. - I know it's not... but this is my kingdom, and I can't abandon it. I need to do something good, Angel, to prove that I'm worthy of my role -.
She found her friend's arm around her shoulders, his chair even closer to hers. She looked up and saw him smile at her encouragingly, while he stroked her head with another of his hands. - You're too good for this Hell, Charlie; we're the ones who don't deserve you -.
Her eyes began to fill with tears, and she leaned into his soft shoulder to seek the comfort she had needed all that time. It felt so good to feel that, despite everything, he seemed to have been able to understand her and see the good in her intentions without judging her. All she needed was to be listened to in that way.
- Thank you, Angel - she whispered, hugging his waist. - I've missed you, you know? -.
He grabbed her by the shoulders. - No sadness for today, okay? - he exclaimed. - Today, we're going to have fun and relax, and tomorrow we'll throw you a bachelorette party for the ages -.
She shook her head. - Tomorrow, I have to prepare a speech to give to the High Seraphim. I want to set some ground rules before I confirm everything -.
- What a drag - he commented, huffing and raising his tuft of hair in the gesture. - That means we'll do it tonight. I already know a place to go -.
She straightened up in her chair when she heard him say that. - I actually wanted to go back to the Crimson Wave; the food is good there -.
Angel narrowed his gaze and put on an ironic smirk. - Do you only want to go for that? -.
She felt her cheeks go on fire and hurried to wave her hands in front of his face. - Of course! I was there yesterday, you know, and I was even alone -.
- But I also heard that the big, bad radio demon personally invited you - he commented, smiling slyly at her. - Have you become part of his fan club? -.
If possible, her cheeks began to burn even more. - What are you thinking?! - she yelled, embarrassed. - I just think he's nice, I mean, he was kind, and I had a good time at the club. That's all -.
It was true; she genuinely found him nice and unique, which was why she would have liked to see him one last time before she had to leave. She wasn't convinced that Heaven would agree to let her come down to Hell often, and on those occasions, she would have wanted to see her father; she certainly wouldn't have much time to go out.
Assuming dad even wants to see me, she thought sadly, drinking the last drop of rum left in her glass.
Angel shrugged. - Fine but are you going like that? -.
She shook her head. - No, I have a plan - she replied, getting up from her chair. - Is there a bathroom here? -.
He gestured to the inside of the place. - It's the first door on the left but be careful. That pervert Phil put holes in the walls to spy on customers -.
Alastor checked his pocket watch for the umpteenth time with irritation. The club was heading toward closing, and there was no sign of the princess. He stood in a dark corner to blend in with the shadows and avoid being called over by any of the guests he knew; he didn't feel like pretending right now. He was convinced she would show up, he was certain of it; yet, there was no trace of her.
He retreated to his room on the upper floor for a moment to catch his breath; he needed to get away from the crowd, at least for a little while. He had organized that evening with more meticulousness than usual, and she hadn't deigned to show up. He carefully re-evaluated the previous evening, looking for a detail he might have missed, but he was completely sure she had been impressed and that he had not made any missteps. He watched the street below him from the window to see if she would appear, but he saw nothing but a few drunk demons who risked getting run over.
He turned his back, massaging his nose and trying to breathe. It was not the time to become impatient. He was close to his goal, and he couldn't lose sight of it now. There was a lot at stake, more than he had ever admitted even to himself. He moved from his nose to his neck, feeling it almost squeezed in a vise.
It wasn't the time to think about it; he had to get back to his job. No one should know how he really felt at that moment, or they could use it against him. He still had five years; there was no hurry. He straightened his jacket as he took another breath of air. He was used to seeing things move exactly as he wanted them to, and he didn't tolerate unexpected events very well.
He dematerialized, only to reappear in the kitchen to keep an eye on Niffty, who seemed particularly agitated herself that evening; his collaborator was particularly empathetic toward his mood swings, and whenever he lost his calm, she became, if possible, even more frenetic.
As expected, she was running back and forth, simultaneously preparing five dishes with different cooking times, while also holding a mop to clean up where she was spilling with the dripping ladle behind her.
- Se calmer, chérie - he tried to tell her with a smile. - Remember it's better to make them wait a minute longer to do things properly -.
Niffty turned to him with a wide eye. - Yes! I'll be careful! - she exclaimed.
He took a deep breath and allowed himself to stay there for a few more minutes to make sure she didn't cause any disasters and to try to instill a bit of serenity in her along with a necessary dose of fear. As with Husk, she was also part of his collection of souls. The two of them were among the few he had kept without tearing them to pieces; he found them to be an invigorating company. He was a solitary type, but he was also a showman and needed a constant audience, and the two of them were perfect for that task. Niffty had a kind of veneration for him, while Husk was blunt enough to point out those rare details that risked escaping him, although for that very reason, he often had to remind him of his place.
The sound of shattering glasses reached his ears, unnerving him more than he already was, and he walked quickly toward the exit, arriving behind the bar counter and being shocked by what he found.
The princess was sitting at the counter with that pest Angel Dust holding her by the shoulder. She had a hand to her mouth, and her eyes were wide. She had probably been the one to drop the glass.
Her red cheeks were even more flushed than usual, and she seemed to be swaying her head in a strange way.
- Oops - he heard her mumble, addressing Husk. - I'm sorry -.
His eyes focused on her, and if it weren't for the fact that she was his target, he would have sent her out that very instant. He couldn't stand dealing with drunks, and she had clearly been hitting the bottle. He found himself nervously staring at the cocktail in front of her.
- Alastor! - she greeted him, raising her hand. - I'm back! -.
About time, he thought, annoyed, then approached Husk and tapped him on the shoulder with a claw to make him move away from the other two. - How long has she been here? And what did you give her? - he hissed irritably.
The bartender pulled his ears back as he raised his hands. - I didn't do anything; I served her the same thing she had yesterday, but she probably drank before she came -.
He leaned over his shoulder to observe her. She was leaning against the counter as if to steady herself, while sipping flavoured sparkling wine from the glass. He tried to push back his anger and went around the back to approach her. One of the waiters had already cleaned everything up, taking away the glass shards and wiping the floor, then vanished into thin air.
- Bonsoir, Charlotte - he began, trying to maintain a calm tone of voice. - I thought I wouldn't see you tonight -.
The princess looked up at him with misty, clouded eyes, giving him a crooked smile. - I went for a walk with Angel first, but we didn't notice the time - she giggled in a slurred voice.
He shot a murderous look at the porn star, who, however, met it with a shrug. - She had some important news to tell me - he seasoned that sentence with a wink.
What did that damn guy mean? What had he found out? He had to know at that very instant, especially considering the condition he had brought her into his club in.
- And what news? - he asked, turning to Charlie.
She put her index finger to her lips. - It's a secret -.
He clenched his jaw to try to hold back the surge of annoyance that was rising in his chest and scowled again as he tried to take the glass from her hands. - Chérie, I think you've had enough to drink for tonight, don't you? -.
In response, she gave him a resentful look, while sticking out her lower lip like a petulant child. - I'm an adult; I can decide for myself - she replied, trying to get the glass back.
He ignored her childish behaviour and passed the glass to Husk. - Only water for her. Was I clear enough? -.
The bartender laughed at the sight of the princess crossing her arms over her chest and sticking her tongue out at him. - Crystal clear, boss -.
With her in that state, any idea he had for that evening was definitely out the window, and there was no point in keeping her underfoot; she would only cause a stir in the club.
- Do you know anyone who can come and get her? - he asked, turning to Angel.
Charlie stood up abruptly and walked toward him. - I'm perfectly capable of getting home by myself -.
She turned to try and reach the door, but in her staggering gait, she hit the corner of a stool and risked falling face-first to the ground. He grabbed her by the arm before she could hit the floor and straightened her up, looking at her in the eyes with irony. - Not to contradict the princess, but I don't think it's a good idea for you to walk around alone -.
The princess's vacant gaze suddenly changed into an expression that was completely alien to him. Her eyes were wide and her lips were tight, while her breathing had suddenly stopped. What did it mean? Had he hurt her? Scared her? What the hell was going through that drunken little brain of hers?
To be safe, he let go of her wrist as he stood back up straight. - Your friend will call someone to come and get you; in the meantime, feel free to sit here - he told her, tapping the stool in front of her with his hand.
Charlie remained staring at him with that same indecipherable expression and finally sat down. He waited for Angel to call someone and to escort her to the exit, while the club had now completely emptied out.
He slightly loosened his bow tie and sat at the counter himself, allowing himself a whiskey to relax.
The porn star returned, stretching as he walked inside, while Husk was sweeping the floor to clean up. - What a night - he commented, yawning. - Did you set up my room yet? -.
Alastor squeezed the glass between his fingers so hard that he chipped it, while his teeth grated against each other. - I told you to stay away, and you didn't. Now tell me, why should I help you? -.
Angel smiled at him with a wink, leaning against the counter in front of him. - Because I know something you don't -.
He narrowed his gaze and held back the growl that was rising in his throat. - And I imagine to tell me, you'll want a damned room, right? -.
He pointed his hand like a gun in his direction. - You got it, buddy. Are you in? -.
He massaged his eyes with his thumb and index finger as he sighed. - Fine, I hope it's worth it -.
He smiled, satisfied. - Trust me, it is -.
- Speak - he snarled, as the glass continued to creak in his fingers.
The demon put his hands up. - Relax, I'll tell you everything - he said with a huff. - The backstory is that Charlie has always held onto the hope of being able to do something good for Hell, and lately, she was hoping to find a way to stop the Extermination by redeeming the souls in Hell -.
What nonsense, he thought, as one corner of his mouth pulled as if to mock that idea. The souls that ended up in that place did so for a reason; something as absurd as that was certainly not plausible, and he couldn't imagine anyone who could take part in such an absurd project.
- Anyway - he continued, gesturing with his hands. - She finally had a meeting with Heaven yesterday, and to make a long story short, to stop the Extermination, she's going to marry that lunatic Adam. The day after tomorrow, she's going to sign the agreement -.
The sound of the glass shattering in his fingers followed Angel's words, the glass shards planting themselves in his clenched hand. Blood almost immediately began to flow onto the counter under the astonished gaze of Angel and Husk.
It wasn't possible; he couldn't actually believe it. He was so close just a few seconds before; he had almost made it. Those words had completely frozen him, and there was no room in his mind for anything but silence, broken only by the realization that he was about to lose everything. Everything he had fought for in those years was about to dissolve between his fingers like that broken glass, and he felt that vise on his neck again that seemed to be strangling him.
He dematerialized to reappear in his room, his still-bleeding hand dripping onto the floor. Not even that pain could wake him up; he was chilled by that news. He leaned against his wooden desk, trying to breathe, but he couldn't calm down. He furiously threw the papers away, while the darkness was illuminated by the green light of his powers that risked exploding from the anger and frustration he was feeling.
He wanted to scream, to curse, to destroy everything to try and calm down, but he couldn't do anything but remain motionless, planting his claws in the desk until he had carved deep into it. It couldn't be true, not when he had almost succeeded.
“You have twenty years to get the crown; then I'll take everything back”
The memory of those words reached his brain, and he thought for a crazy moment that he had the chain around his neck again, and he passed his bleeding hand over it, feeling the warmth of his own blood warming his body along with the cold of the glass that had remained planted in his palm.
He slammed his fist on the table in anger, risking breaking the desk and growling in frustration. He had to think clearly, to think of a solution. There was very little time, but he was smart and cunning; he couldn't let himself be tricked by Heaven.
Think, calm down, he told himself, sitting down in the chair behind him and resuming regular breathing. It wasn't the time for madness; he had to be cold and clear-headed.
The princess wanted to stop the Extermination, Heaven had offered her the opportunity to do so, and those were the facts. But was there any detail where he could slip in to avoid that disaster?
He needed time, but he didn't have any.
Time, he thought suddenly, his eyes widening.
His smile lit up in the darkness of the room as he realized that, once again, the solution was terribly simple.
All he needed was a little more time.
Notes:
Fun fact about writing this chapter: Parker, my dog, inspired the scene where Razzle and Dazzle pull things out of the wardrobe. Once, he literally threw himself into my wardrobe -.-" but thanks to him, I knew what to wear, so... GOOD DOG!
The mystery deepens; Charlie isn't the only one with a deadline, Alastor also has a deadline to complete his plan. But who is behind it all?
As always, I would like to thank everyone who reads or leaves a comment on this story!
See you soon :*
Hugs
Silvia
Chapter Text
Charlie woke up with a terrible headache, her stomach sending clear signals of nausea, and a sense of shame mixed with a total inability to lucidly remember what had happened the night before.
She forced herself to open her eyelids and found herself in her bed, the curtains drawn, blocking out the light. She had no idea what time it was or who had brought her home.
She pushed the sheets away, trying to sit up, but the simple motion made her terribly dizzy, which only increased the nausea. She looked at herself, realizing she was still wearing the same dress from the previous evening.
She massaged her temples with her fingers, trying to recall with as much clarity as possible what she had done with her friend. After she had returned from the bathroom, she had let herself be convinced to have a second rum affogato, the first terrible idea of the night. At that point, they had stayed and talked at the bar about her ideas on redemption, Angel's upcoming movies, and a bunch of other things, including Vaggie. She had confessed to Angel about their night of passion, and he had started asking some very risqué questions, which led her to order the third and fatal alcoholic ice cream. From that moment on, the images were nothing but a confused and fragmented succession of various situations: a visit to a second bar where she had another tequila shot, a walk in a vain attempt to sober up, a third bar, and finally, their arrival at the Crimson Wave. At the mere thought of the terrible impression she had made in front of the Radio Demon, her cheeks burned, and she wished she could dig a hole to bury herself in. She had shown up at a place like that visibly tipsy, and she was quite sure that whatever she had done included at least the risk of a second ruinous fall in front of him. She remembered the feeling of him grabbing her wrist to keep her from falling and giving her an irritated look, before inviting her in the politest way possible to go back to her seat. She didn't know if she had talked to him, but she hoped with all her heart that she hadn't said too many absurd things.
The sound of her phone vibrating suddenly snapped her out of her thoughts, and this time she wasn't surprised to find a message from Angel, realizing it was well past lunchtime.
“Hey, Drunkie Princess, how's the hangover?”
She fell back onto the pillow, hiding her face in her hands and thrashing her legs wildly, punctuating it all with choked squeals at the thought of what she had done. She wondered for a long time how she had gotten home, but she might as well ask someone who was with her the night before.
She reached for her phone again and typed the message.
“Hi... terribly... but who brought me home? Did I do anything weird?” she asked in despair, not even knowing if she really wanted an answer to that question. At the moment, drinking to bury all her problems had seemed like a great idea, at least until that morning when she found herself wrecked and bitter. She drank very little on her own, and it was a good thing, because she really couldn't handle alcohol in any form. Just three ice creams had been enough to send her down the wrong path; she didn't want to imagine what she could have done if she had started with other spirits.
The phone vibrated again, and she hesitated for a second before picking it up, terrified of reading any response.
“Nothing absurd. You just broke one of Smile's glasses, and he saved you from face-planting on the floor. Anyway, Vaggie got you. You must have been really out of it not to even remember that”
She threw the phone onto the bed after reading that response, pulling the sheets over her head as more choked screams of embarrassment escaped her mouth. She had truly made a fool of herself in front of both Alastor and Vaggie, it was useless to deny it to herself.
The terror of having tried some sort of approach with the former angel again came over her, and she sat up with a start, her face now on fire and her mouth dry. That leap, however, was the final blow to her stomach, and she tumbled out of bed in a desperate attempt to reach the bathroom. The effects of the previous evening had their final and lethal consequences, but once she had emptied her stomach, at least the nausea seemed to disappear.
She let herself fall onto the marble floor, staring into space in a state of terror at the thought of seeing Vaggie. She should at least apologize for forcing her to come and get her after that bender, especially given the way they had left things the day before. She was sending her life to hell in less than twenty-four hours, a difficult feat even for her.
She would have a ton of things to do that day: figure out what boundaries to set for that agreement, what kind of speech to prepare, maybe get a vague idea of packing boxes. When would they want to celebrate the wedding? Would they at least give her time to say goodbye to everyone properly, or would they take her away immediately?
The idea began to terrify her to the point that she found herself hugging her knees, without the strength to move from the floor, resting her forehead on them as a few tears escaped her control.
Razzle and Dazzle quickly came to her after hearing her cry, the first with a cloth handkerchief clenched in its mouth. She took it, trying to give it a comforting smile, while the two little rams both curled up on her stomach and rubbed against her as if to comfort her.
- I'll miss you so much - she whispered in an almost choked voice, hugging them close.
She would miss everything about her home, every little detail, even the most catastrophic and absurd ones.
She decided to get to her feet and take a shower to wash away the last remnants of the hangover, and she brushed her teeth three times to try and eliminate the bitter aftertaste of the ice cream that kept coming up her throat. Going down, it had been so sweet, but its return was a stab in the stomach every single time.
Even though she hated the idea, she decided to leave her room to go and look for both her father and Vaggie. She at least owed them a warm and decent greeting, as cruel as they had been to her and as little as they had helped her in those days of pain. The idea of calling Angel to invite him over had crossed her mind, but first she had to solve that looming problem.
The soft slippers she wore muffled her steps in the tomb-like silence that reigned in the large villa. Their cleaning lady wasn't there that day, and the house seemed even emptier than usual. Her father had never loved having many servants around; instead, he did everything himself. The only thing he had given in on was the cleaning, since he was absolutely incapable of doing it. Vaggie had offered to do some housework more than once, but her father treated her like a second daughter since she arrived and wouldn't let her lift a finger, not even in the kitchen. It had to be said that Lucifer was an excellent cook for desserts, even if he lacked talent for many savoury dishes; it was a miracle that their figures hadn't suffered over all those years.
She arrived in the kitchen, finding it strangely empty. The island in the centre of the room didn't have the usual dirty dishes, a sign that either no one had come to eat or that they had tidied up for once. She knew she should try to eat something to keep her strength up, but her stomach seemed to reject the idea, and she decided to grab some dry cookies from the pantry and make a ginger and lemon herbal tea, hoping it would calm the terrible nausea.
She sat down in front of the dark marble counter, listlessly nibbling on a few cookies and dipping the teabag into the hot water. She was terribly tired and exhausted, that feeling of loneliness and defeat that wouldn't let her go whenever she was alone.
She watched her phone, almost hoping for another message from Angel proposing anything at all so she wouldn't have to stay at home; she would have preferred to write the speech with him rather than having to do it alone.
I wonder if Alastor's place is open in the afternoon she found herself thinking, and then she immediately dismissed the idea. She wouldn't have the strength to show up again after what had happened the night before; she'd rather face a walk barefoot through thorns.
The sound of footsteps snapped her out of her thoughts, and at the entrance to the kitchen, she saw Vaggie. She looked tired, probably like her, she hadn't slept very well. Her hair, usually worn loose, was tied in a high ponytail, and she was still wearing the grey tracksuit she always wore at home.
Both of them blushed as soon as they saw each other, and Charlie found herself stiffening on the stool, while the string holding the teabag also slipped from her hands and fell into the cup.
- Good morning - Vaggie greeted her with a slight smile. - How do you feel? -.
Beyond embarrassed she replied mentally, trying to grab the teabag with poor results and burning her fingers. - G-good - she stammered, trying to focus her eyes on the cookie crumbs scattered everywhere. - You? -.
The former angel moved toward her uncertainly. - I'm fine. If you're worried about anything that happened yesterday... you can rest easy - she reassured her.
Charlie sighed, thinking that was small consolation. - Thank goodness - she breathed out, watching her go to the fridge. - Thanks for coming to get me -.
Her friend poured some cranberry juice into a glass, still with her back to her. - No problem. You know I'm always there for you -.
Not in the way I'd like she thought, her throat feeling tight. She wanted to go to her, hug her, and bury her face in that fragrant hair and stay that way until she had to leave, but she chased that image from her mind. It wasn't the time to wallow in such absurd ideas; she had other, more important problems.
- Now that you're calmer, do you want to talk? - Vaggie asked her, leaning her back against the fridge and watching her.
The cookie fell from her hands due to the anxiety that question had caused her. - About what? - she asked in a high-pitched voice, trying to force a serene smile.
Her friend brought a hand to her forehead wearily. - About everything, Charlie, about what's going through your head. I seriously understand what you want to do, I really do, but I don't understand why you should accept a marriage to Adam to do it! -.
She sighed, finally managing to pull the teabag out of the cup and blowing on it to cool it down. - Because right now, it's the only option we have -.
- And it's also the stupidest option! Please, Charlie, just think about it for a second - she pleaded, walking toward her and placing a hand on her arm.
Charlie gritted her teeth, trying not to let a single tear escape in front of her. - Do you and dad think I'm happy about this? I wish I had a backup plan, but I don't, and it's not going to magically appear at the door! -.
As if to refute those words, they heard the doorbell ring. They looked at each other, bewildered for a second, not knowing what to do; they certainly weren't expecting any visitors.
- Was dad expecting someone? - she asked, perplexed.
Vaggie shook her head. - No. Besides, he's out, and I think he'll be back later. He said he has some things to discuss with Satan -.
Lucifer wasn't the type to ring the doorbell, and even if he had forgotten his keys, he could just open a portal to get right into the house, so it had to be someone else.
She got off the stool, following Vaggie toward the entrance to open the door. The former angel went ahead of her and opened the door, peeking out.
- Bonjour! Is Charlotte at home? -.
Charlie felt her blood run cold, all the nerves in her body tensing as if about to snap. Alastor had come to her house without any warning, and who knew why. Had Angel not been entirely truthful and she caused more damage than expected?
Vaggie slammed the door shut in his face, muttering insults under her breath.
- Vaggie! - she scolded, going toward the door. - That's not polite! -.
She stared at her with her one wide eye. - Do you realize he's the last problem we need right now?! I'll remind you that he's a ruthless Overlord! -.
Charlie rolled her eyes, trying to fix her hair as best she could. - You're too harsh, as always -.
Her friend looked at her in shock. - Are you really going to open it? And are you fixing yourself up? -.
- Stop it! Maybe he's here because I caused some trouble - she whispered, then went to the door and opened it.
Alastor was still standing there like a statue, his back straight and a wide smile on his face. When he saw her, his gaze softened, and he lowered his head slightly.
- Chérie, what a pleasure to see you again! Are you feeling better? - he asked, leaning toward her.
Charlie felt her cheeks burn as she tried to hide her embarrassment by smiling back at him. - Oh, of course! It was kind of you to come all this way to make sure - she replied, moving a lock of hair behind her ear.
The demon didn't even wait for her to invite him in. He stepped past the doorway, starting to look around, and seemed to intentionally ignore Vaggie's withering looks; she, in the meantime, had her arms crossed over her chest and was nervously tapping her foot on the ground.
He tapped his cane on the ground a couple of times, turning back toward her with a pirouette. - What a charming house - he commented, then looked at Vaggie. - Although the staff seems quite rude -.
Vaggie flared up in anger. - Pendejo, come here and say that again! -.
Charlie got between the two before Vaggie could jump at his throat. - There's a misunderstanding! - she hurried to say, putting an arm around her friend's shoulders in a gesture that at that moment felt terribly out of place even to her. - Vaggie is a very dear friend of mine who lives with us. She's just a little wary of strangers -.
- Oh, pardon - the demon hastened to say, tilting his head. - I apologize for the misunderstanding, chérie -.
When he tried to take Vaggie's hand to shake it, she pulled it back, looking at him with even more irritation. - Don't touch me! -.
She tried to give her a look of disapproval, then turned back to Alastor with a strained smile, her arm still tight around her friend's shoulders. - So... do you... do you want something to drink? -.
The Radio Demon gave the former angel a glare for a second, then turned back to her with a less obvious and decidedly gentler smile. - Thank you for the courtesy, but I was just passing by to have a chat. I wouldn't want to disturb you further -.
- You've already disturbed us by coming here - Vaggie muttered, receiving a light kick to the ankles from Charlie in response.
Alastor seemed to deliberately ignore that comment, remaining still with his cane clutched in his claws in front of him, as if waiting for Charlie to lead the way to sit down somewhere.
She snapped out of it, releasing Vaggie's shoulders and inviting him to follow her toward the kitchen, while the former angel stood behind both of them as if to make sure the newcomer didn't make any rash moves.
When he entered, the Overlord's gaze fell on the cup left on the counter. - How rude of me; if I had known I was interrupting your meal, I would have come later -.
Charlie cut off any rude comment from Vaggie with a glare. - Don't worry. But you didn't have to bother coming all this way; a message would have been enough -.
Alastor tilted his head, looking at the phone she was pointing to. - Unfortunately, I'm not accustomed to using such trinkets; I prefer the written word or a courtesy visit - he replied calmly, taking a seat on one of the dark leather stools.
She mentally called herself an idiot, especially because even if he had a phone, he wouldn't have her number anyway. - Yes, letters are a nice way to express oneself - she found herself saying, as she sat across from him and resumed sipping from her cup.
The demon smiled at her in a friendly manner. - I'm glad you appreciate them as much as I do; we have more in common than it seems -.
She almost choked on her drink and started coughing until tears came to her eyes, putting a hand in front of her to try not to look like a complete imbecile. She couldn't understand why she became so tense every time he was in front of her; he was always so calm and courteous, yet he managed to constantly make her feel uncomfortable in a strange way she couldn't explain.
Vaggie stood in a corner with her arms crossed, muttering phrases in Spanish that were probably a way to insult the newcomer.
- Anyway, I'm also here to talk about another topic - he said, placing his clasped hands on the counter and then glancing at the former angel. - Although I think it's better to discuss it between us -.
- If you think I'm leaving you alone, tú estás loco! - Vaggie yelled in response.
Alastor shook his head as he clicked his tongue against his palate - Chérie, it would be easier for me to understand you if you didn't speak in such a rude and grating manner -.
- Says the one who sounds like he has a damn radio filter stuck in his throat! -.
Charlie jumped off the stool before they could get at each other's throats and blocked Vaggie by her shoulders. - Come on, don't be like that! He just came to see if I was okay -.
Her friend glared at her. - I don't trust him, and you shouldn't either -.
- I'm still here - Alastor commented, looking at his nails with an indifferent air.
The princess wanted to bury herself at that very moment and sighed dejectedly. - Please, Vaggie, ten minutes. Okay? -.
Vaggie looked at her and then at the demon before stomping away, continuing to curse in every language she probably knew. Charlie sighed as she returned to the table and took her seat in front of the Radio Demon, who, despite the scene, seemed to have maintained his natural composure and grace.
- I must say, she's an excellent bodyguard. I'm glad you have one - he commented, but Charlie noticed that his voice betrayed a slight irritation toward her friend.
She resumed sipping her herbal tea, seeking a little calm in the warmth of the drink - When you care about someone, it's normal to worry - she replied sadly, thinking that even that -caring- hadn't been enough to keep them together.
Alastor nodded in agreement. - Certainement! It's very noble of her, in fact. I've recently been able to see that many people are attached to you - he began, and with a snap of his fingers, he made a steaming cup of coffee appear.
The princess looked at him apologetically - You just had to ask; I would have made you one -.
- I would never have dared to cause you even that much trouble. And besides, I only appreciate a particular blend; I'll let you taste it one day if you want - he replied, taking a sip himself. - And I hope to see you more often at my establishment, or should I think otherwise? -.
Charlie felt her cheeks flush, and she was certain that they had at least slightly changed colour as she stubbornly bit the inside of her cheek to avoid making a strange sound. - I'd love to! - she blurted out in a high-pitched voice. - But unfortunately, some... commitments... will take me away for a while -.
Maybe forever she concluded mentally, lowering her gaze to the dark counter.
Alastor sighed in turn, placing the cup on the table. - Speaking of which, I've become aware of a rather worrying fact about you -.
She jumped on the stool and turned her gaze back to him; he had, in the meantime, taken off his monocle to clean it on his sleeve. - W-what? - she asked nervously.
He put his monocle back on and smiled at her, resting his chin on his clasped fingers. - Don't worry, chérie, I have no intention of using it; on the contrary, I'm here because I want to help you -.
She blinked in shock. - What exactly do you know? - she asked in a whisper, trying to figure out if she had told him or not.
- You get very chatty when you drink, you know? - he commented with a laugh. - Not that I mind; I find your way of expressing yourself always interesting and entertaining -.
She dropped her head onto the table in despair. - So, you're telling me that yesterday I told you about the agreement with Heaven and Adam? - at that point, she had made so many blunders that being seen in that state seemed like the least of her problems.
A rustle behind her startled her, and when she looked up, she found the demon suddenly standing behind her. - Don't despair; only me and your friend heard what you had to say -.
- That's not the problem - she moaned, putting her hands on her face, while one of the sentences he had said earlier came to her brain, making her sit up straight. - Wait... you said you have a way to help me? -.
He nodded, crossing his arms behind his back. - I might have a way for you to gain as much time as possible and get what you want anyway -.
- And what do you want in return? - she asked, worried. She knew that Overlords like Alastor were used to making deals in exchange for their help, but if there was one thing her father had managed to instil in her since she was a child, it was never to make deals with any demon in Hell, and she wouldn't fall for it.
The Overlord put on a hurt expression. - Chérie, do you think I'm so petty? I thought you had a higher opinion of me and that you wouldn't be swayed by gossip about my person - he replied, turning his back on her and walking around the kitchen.
Charlie waved her hands in the air nervously. - Oh no, no, I'm sorry! - she hurried to say. - It's just... you know... Overlords usually do that -.
- Not with friends - he asserted calmly, turning in her direction and smiling at her with his mouth closed and his eyelids half-lowered.
She looked at him, stunned, barely able to contain her jaw. - And I'm your friend? You've barely known me for a day -.
In response, he shrugged. - I know how to recognize a trustworthy person, and if you were to leave, I wouldn't have a way to deepen this pleasant acquaintance of ours. It would break my heart, and also the hearts of your current friends -.
Alastor was a constant surprise to her. She couldn't understand why he was so determined to get to know her and found it completely impossible that there was a romantic motive behind that courtesy, especially knowing how many of the demonesses had literally fallen at his feet only to be ignored. But there was a strange sincerity in his eyes, as if he, too, partly needed her. It would have been great to try and redeem someone like him; it could have been her greatest conquest if she had had the time.
- What did you have in mind? - she asked, intrigued.
The Overlord widened his smile even more as he began to pace back and forth in the room. - What you need to do right now is gain as much time as possible, and you have an important arrow in your quiver even if you're not fully aware of it. Engagements can last for years, and it's only right that you get to know your future consort - he began, waving a hand in the air in a theatrical manner. - For that reason, you could ask for a year's time; a period in which you will meet your fiancé once a week to get to know him and, in the meantime, you will try to redeem the souls of Hell. If you succeed, you can annul the engagement; otherwise... well, maybe Adam will turn out to be more pleasant than you think - he concluded, although he didn't seem at all convinced of that last sentence.
Charlie had listened to his proposal in amazement. It was something so simple that she really couldn't understand how she hadn't thought of it before, and she found herself staring wide-eyed. Her enthusiasm deflated in a second when some doubts came to her mind.
- But, I don't know anyone who would want to participate in my project, and my father certainly won't let me keep them here even if there were some. We would need a suitable place to meet -.
Alastor was suddenly next to her, leaning his face toward her. - It so happens that I possess both things -.
At that point, her mouth fell open, completely out of her control. - But... but how? -.
He moved away, raising his chin with a confident air. - Speaking with your friend, he seemed interested in the matter, and two of my collaborators will be happy to participate in the project. Also, the floors above my establishment are currently vacant; we could set up rooms for future guests -.
Charlie felt tears of emotion welling up in her eyes. - And you would do that for me? - she asked, astonished.
The demon lowered his crimson eyes toward her, and they almost glowed. - Chérie, for my Princess and future friend, I would do anything. I would only like to be your partner in this project, if you allow me -.
At that point, she couldn't resist any longer. She jumped off the stool and threw her arms around his neck, almost suffocating him in a hug. - Of course! - she found herself squealing. - Thank you, Alastor! Thank you! -.
She only realized a second later that he must not have appreciated her impulsive gesture at all, as he had suddenly stiffened and was holding his arms wide to avoid touching her. She immediately released her grip as her cheeks grew hot again, biting her index fingernail nervously.
- Sorry, I promise I'll keep physical contact to a minimum - she murmured, looking down at the ground.
The demon remained motionless in that position, his eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. After a few seconds, he seemed to come back to himself and adjusted his jacket on his shoulders. - Thank you for the courtesy; I have a great regard for my personal space - he commented in a tense voice; it was the first time she had heard him speak that way. - Now, however, you'd better prepare a convincing speech. If you need any advice, you know where to find me -.
She watched him head for the door, but she intercepted him before he could leave. - Wait! - she stopped him, standing in front of him. - Do you swear there's no hidden agenda? -.
Alastor tilted his head to the side, looking at her with an inquisitive air. - Chérie, I challenge you to find one if there were. For what other reason would I offer my services to the princess without even the slightest possibility of a deal? -.
Charlie looked him back in the eyes, but she couldn't read anything in them but total serenity. Even if he had some kind of plan, it escaped her, and for the moment, it could be fine that way; at least she could try to avoid that marriage.
- Okay - she replied, smiling at him. - Then I'll get to work right away. Maybe I'll stop by tonight to show you what I've prepared, if that's okay with you -.
Alastor nodded, tapping his cane on the ground. - I'll eagerly await your news, my new business partner -.
He disappeared in a cloud of smoke before she could say anything else, and without even giving an explanation to Vaggie, she rushed to her room to start preparing a perfect speech.
Her friend, however, also entered the room. - Charlie, I hope I heard wrong! -
She looked up from the desk filled with papers and coloured markers to look at her. - Were you eavesdropping? -.
- Of course I was! - she snapped, running her hands through her hair. - And this is the umpteenth absurd proposal you've accepted in less than three days! What's wrong with you?! -.
Charlie glared at her at that point. - At least he offered to help me in a way that doesn't involve destroying my dreams -.
Vaggie let out a choked scream, raising her head upward. - When your father finds out, he's going to lock you up, do you realize that?! -.
She jumped up from the desk so fast that the chair fell over. - If he dares to do that, I'll leave home, and you can tell him all about it. Anyway, you two are perfectly capable of talking without me being involved in the conversation, right? -.
The former angel seemed struck by that comment, and her fury stopped for a second. - Charlie, we just want to protect you -.
- I have things to do now; go away. You can talk to dad if you think it's necessary; I don't care - she replied, picking up the chair and resuming writing on her beloved coloured cards.
She didn't have time at that moment; she wanted to try the path Alastor had offered her. If he was right, she could get what she wanted without necessarily giving up her life, and at that moment, that option was the best she had.
- That’s the most crappy, ridiculous, and senseless idea I’ve ever heard! And you involved us without even consulting us! -.
Alastor sighed at Husk’s latest outburst, as he sat comfortably on one of the bar’s sofas. The meeting with the princess had gone better than his wildest dreams; it had been absurdly easy to ensnare her. He had tested the waters, trying to figure out how much she remembered from the previous night, and when he realized she remembered nothing, he had lied, telling her she was the one who confessed her absurd plan. That way, that annoying little pest Angel Dust wouldn't be able to complain to him about anything, although if she did remember something, he wouldn't hesitate to tell her that Angel himself had informed him.
- Husker, I don't believe you're in a position to say no to me - he replied calmly, taking a bite of his carpaccio.
Angel appeared in his line of sight, ruining his tasty snack before opening time. - I hope you didn't tell her that I was the one who spilled the beans! -.
Alastor sighed, picking up the glass of red wine on the table and swirling it between his fingers. - I'll tell you for the hundredth time that I saved your reputation, for what it's worth - he replied, beginning to drink.
The star moved, throwing his arms in the air. - I'll remind you that I work with my face, so it's worth a lot -.
- From face to backside is a short trip - he grinned, amused.
In response, Angel raised all four of his middle fingers in his direction, taking a seat on the stools near the bartender who was cleaning the counter with such fury he risked carving a groove in its precious, elegant wood.
Suddenly, Husk threw the wet cloth on the table. - You're forcing us to participate in a redemption you yourself don't believe is possible! Do you realize how absurd that is?! And I don't even understand why! -.
Niffty popped out of the kitchen with wide eyes. - I love being forced -.
Husk put his hands on his face. - Keep it to yourself, Niff, please -.
Alastor smiled, amused by the scene, wiping his mouth with his napkin. - The reason is none of your concern. I simply want the princess where she should be: in Hell -.
Angel looked at him, perplexed. - Wait, do I have to be part of this bullshit, too? -.
He nodded. - Assuming you want to keep your room, continue drinking for free, and have a safe place to take refuge when your boss is more agitated than usual - he replied, counting on his fingers.
- Fuck, what a shitty life - Angel commented, huffing. - Mr. Meow-stache, make me a strong one, please -.
Husk glared at him. - Cut it out with those stupid nicknames, before I kick your ass! -.
- Language, my agitated friends - he chided them, taking another sip of wine. - Soon we'll have royalty under our very roof. We wouldn't want to upset her -.
Niffty jumped onto the counter. - Should I start getting her room ready? -.
The bartender looked at both of them, shocked. - You're talking as if Heaven has already agreed! Who says they won't tell her it's an absurd proposal? -.
He shrugged indifferently. - I simply find that to be unlikely -.
- If you're right, I swear I'll do the hula in a grass skirt - Husk snapped again, resuming his cleaning.
Angel leaned toward him. - Let me know when you do it -.
- You wouldn't want to gamble with me. You've already lost if my memory serves me correctly - he replied, smiling at him and narrowing his eyes.
The fur on the bartender's back bristled as he tried with all his might to hold back an annoyed growl.
Alastor calmly resumed eating as silence finally fell over the room. When he had made that proposal to the princess, he was aware that none of them could refuse him anything, including the spider, even though he didn't own his soul. In this way, he would not only offer her three souls, but also a peaceful place where she could do whatever absurdity she had in mind. He considered redemption to be completely impossible, in fact he couldn't understand how she could have had such a ridiculous idea, but he didn't need success to be the goal, only to buy time. A year was enough to get his hands on the crown. He would just have to speed things up a bit. At first, he thought he would take his time to make her his friend, but that unexpected event had forced him to put on those absurd displays of trust. He laughed at himself for how ridiculous it was that he had said those words, while at the same time congratulating himself for the masterful acting skills he was capable of showing at any moment. He had certainly gained points by not asking for anything in return, making the scale tip even more in his favour. At that point, he just had to separate her from her family and that hateful cyclops that had irritated him from the first moment.
He looked up, focusing his gaze on Angel, who in the blink of an eye had already emptied two glasses. If he didn't earn well, that damn guy would be his ruin. - Since you've known our dear princess for years, what can you tell me about the one who acts as her bodyguard? -.
The star looked at him strangely. - You mean Vaggie? The one with the eye patch? -, he nodded, waiting for him to continue talking. - It's a tear-jerker story. Charlie has been in love with her since she arrived in Hell, but apparently, Vaggie wants no part of it. Ex-angels and their damn puritanical mindset - he concluded, downing what was left in the glass in one gulp.
I'll have to pay special attention to that irritating being he thought, annoyed, as he clenched his jaw.
- Fantastic! Are we going to have to host her, too? - Husk snapped, opening a bottle of cheap liquor and beginning to drink it avidly.
Alastor hissed. - Not for all the souls in Hell -.
Angel laughed, amused. - You know that if Charlie wants her here, you won't be able to say no, right? -.
He inhaled in an attempt to calm himself, nervously massaging his temples. If she forced him to have her underfoot, she would prove to be a difficult thorn in his side, but he could find a way to avoid it; he just had to find the crack in that relationship, too.
An intense knock on the door startled him from his thoughts, and he looked at Husk, telling him with his eyes to handle the situation.
- We're closed! We'll open in two hours - the bartender muttered, going back to arranging the glasses.
The knocking on the door didn't stop, and an annoyed growl forced the other one to go past the counter and see what was happening. When he opened the door, he froze, the fur on his back bristling and his tail almost falling to the ground.
- Oh, Your Majesty, I didn't expect it to be you - he said in a hoarse voice.
What the hell is Lucifer doing here? he thought, irritated, as he found himself clenching a fist. He certainly hadn't expected his visit. He usually stayed away from Hell's business and was never seen around. He sighed, exhausted. After all, he was starting to do business with his daughter, so it was predictable that sooner or later he would have him underfoot.
He got up, trying to force a welcoming smile and heading toward the entrance with a brisk stride. The King of Hell stood motionless on the threshold, his gaze serious and his eyelids half-lowered. Alastor found him ridiculous, not only because of his short stature, but also because of his absurd way of dressing. More than a king, he looked like the scatterbrained director of a tacky traveling circus, like the ones that would occasionally stop in New Orleans when he was still alive. How much he would have enjoyed seeing him in a lion's mouth at that very moment.
He pushed those thoughts away and bowed forward, placing a hand on his chest. - Your Majesty, we certainly didn't expect your visit. If we had known, we would have prepared a more suitable welcome for you -.
- Cut the crap. I think you know full well why I'm here - he said in a firm and clear voice.
Alastor straightened up, looking at the others still gathered in the room. - You can withdraw. I believe the King wishes to confer in private - he said in a sharp tone, implicitly threatening them with his gaze that if he found them eavesdropping, he would tear them to pieces.
Probably understanding the message, the three disappeared into the kitchen, and he heard their footsteps continuing to the upper floor. To avoid any sudden unwelcome visits, he let his shadow go to guard the stairs, so that none of them would even dare to take a step.
Lucifer entered the room, an ugly cane with an apple for a handle clutched in his fingers. - So, this is where my daughter has been for the past few days - he commented, disgusted. - Quite gloomy -.
- I'd prefer to call it reserved - he corrected, unable to keep an annoyed tone from seeping into his voice.
The seraphim turned his back on him and took a seat at one of the tables. - I don't have all day, so I'd like to resolve this matter quickly -.
Alastor maintained his smile, taking a seat across from him. - I imagine our King's agenda is full, but I really can't understand what brings you all the way here -.
The King adjusted his top hat on his head, his eyes narrowed into two slits. - I'm here because I've learned that you've become my daughter's new partner, and I don't like it one bit -.
He pointed to his chest with a feigned look of shock. - Do you doubt my good intentions? -.
- Spare me! - he snapped, slamming a hand on the table. - People like you don't have good intentions, just masks to hide the truth -.
Smarter than I thought he commented to himself, unable to hold back a chuckle. - Your Majesty, you've completely misunderstood. I'm only interested in our princess's well-being. It would be detrimental to Hell if she were to be confined in Heaven -.
Lucifer laughed, showing his sharp teeth. - And since when do people like you give a shit about things like that? -.
- I think your daughter explained the situation clearly to you - he replied.
The king’s eyes suddenly widened, and he looked away. He had become quite good at reading people over the years, and that hesitation meant only one thing: there must have been tensions between the two, and the former angel had probably been the one to warn him.
The King sighed without looking at him. - In truth, her friend informed me - he then turned his gaze back to him. - But I'm sure she told me every single thing, down to the last detail. Not to mention that you showed up at our house by bypassing security -.
And it had been very easy to bypass it. Those useless imps at the gates hadn't even noticed his shadow passing under the railings, not even when he had regained his form along the garden. However, it had to be said that their guard dog was quite good at keeping people away in any case.
- Perhaps you should entrust security to someone more competent. I have some names to recommend if you need them - he replied with irony.
The King's eyes took on reddish hues, while horns began to emerge from his forehead. - Don't play with my patience -.
Alastor didn't flinch. As powerful as he was, he didn't fear him at all. - I think you should actually be grateful to me. It's thanks to my idea that you'll have a chance to keep your daughter here -.
It all happened so fast that he struggled to piece together what had happened. Lucifer had jumped over the table, grabbing his throat and knocking him to the ground. He had hit the floor violently with his head and realized that the King’s grip was stronger than he had expected. The heat emanating from his body was burning his skin, and he found himself growling back at him in anger, ready to counterattack.
No, let him vent he thought, realizing that this was the crack he needed. It was absurd how things kept going well for him. If he reacted, perhaps by hurting him—however difficult—he could give Charlie a reason to doubt him. If he remained still, he would become the poor victim in the eyes of the sweet princess.
Lucifer's horns had grown even more, a flaming crown in the middle, and his red eyes had widened. His sharp jaws leaned toward his face as if he were ready to bite him, but Alastor didn't stop smiling for a second and waited for him to make his move.
- You have to leave her alone, am I clear? - he snapped, his voice suddenly deeper than before.
He gasped for air before speaking. - I will do what your daughter wants, nothing more - he rasped, still managing to let out a choked laugh despite the situation.
The King suddenly released his grip, retrieving his top hat that had flown off when he attacked him. Alastor got back up, leaning on the table, massaging his throat, which felt burned. That little guy's powers were definitely formidable, and he had only had a taste of them. He found himself envying that strength he didn't deserve in his opinion. If he were the King of Hell, he would have used them in a much more creative way.
Lucifer headed for the door, but before leaving, he turned one last time to him. - I hope I don't have to repeat myself. You wouldn't want me to -.
He lowered his head. - Your Majesty, I'm sure we won't see each other again for a long time -.
Especially now that you’ve given me the perfect way to alienate your daughter, you idiot he concluded in his head, watching him leave.
He adjusted his jacket on his shoulders and then went to look at his injuries in the mirror on one of the walls. The marks of fingers and burns left by Lucifer were clearly visible. He had even ruined his shirt and destroyed his bow tie when he was hit. He could have healed those wounds in less than a few minutes, but he thought it was better to leave them where they were and hide them until the princess arrived.
They would be his definitive ticket to her total and unconditional trust.
Charlie had gone down to the lower floor with a folder full of cards containing notes for her speech. She had spent practically the entire day organizing her ideas and rehearsing her monologue like an actress trying to memorize a part. It was well past dinner time and she was starving, so she headed to the kitchen almost skipping for joy, invigorated by the idea of having a way out. She hadn't had a chance to see her father and hadn't talked to him about the matter, and she secretly hoped that Vaggie hadn't preempted her. She wanted to be able to lucidly explain everything to him and was happy to find him still in the kitchen. He was sipping a glass of apple juice, his top hat resting on the kitchen island.
When he saw her, his eyes widened, and he smiled. - Charlie! You look great. Any news? - he asked in a strangely high-pitched voice.
She looked at him, perplexed, but decided to ignore his strange behaviour and sat down at the table in front of him. - I have some news, fad, but I'd like us to talk about it calmly this time -.
Her father sighed, running a hand through his hair and taking a seat across from her. - Charlie, you know I don't agree -.
- Wait! - she stopped him, taking his hands. - Please, just let me tell you everything without judging until the end -.
Lucifer squeezed her fingers, his eyes clouding over. - Alright, I'm listening, honey -.
She smiled at him and began to tell him all about Alastor's idea, observing his reactions as she spoke. He seemed strangely calm, as if he wasn't at all surprised by what she was telling him, but once again, she chose to pretend not to notice and continued to talk. The idea seemed so brilliant to her, and she spoke with such enthusiasm that she lost her breath more than once during her incessant monologue, and when she finished, she waited anxiously for some sort of response.
Her father had nodded for most of the time, but when she stopped, he began to breathe deeply, as if he were tense and nervous. - So, if it goes wrong, you'll still accept? - he asked her.
She found herself looking down at their hands still clasped together. - Dad, please, let's not think about the worst for now -.
- And you think they'll listen to you? - he pressed on, even more insistent.
She didn't understand why he always had to be so cold and detached toward her ideas, and why he couldn't give her the same support she had received from both Angel and Alastor. Another stab in her heart struck her, but she tried to push it back and meet his gaze.
- I know you think it's absurd but try to understand me for once - she whispered. - This could be a turning point for all of us -.
He let go of her hands and caressed her cheek, his eyes beginning to well up. - Charlie, I don't want to lose you. Since you were born, the only thing I've wanted is to protect you -.
She took the hand he was still holding on her face, squeezing it, as her own eyes grew moist. - I know, dad, and I want you to be proud of me -.
He gave her a sweet smile. - Charlie, I'm always proud of you - he replied, getting up from the stool and going toward her. - I just don't think it's a good idea to get into business with someone like him -.
She gave him an irritated look. - Why do you say that? You don't know him -.
Lucifer looked down as if he wanted to hide something from her. - I know people like him, and they rarely do something without a hidden agenda, trust me -.
- Alastor had the idea, and I can't cut him out, and I don't intend to! - she snapped in response. -If it weren't for him, tomorrow I'd be going to sign a marriage agreement instead of proposing something different -.
The seraphim took her face in his hands. - Still use the idea but do it here - he pleaded. - Don't get into business with an Overlord -.
She was grateful to him for making that proposal, but it wouldn't feel right to use Alastor's idea and then cut him out like that. Since she had met him, he had proven to be someone who could handle difficult situations, and she needed him more than ever at that moment. Vaggie and her father didn't believe in her idea enough, while he, without even knowing her, had put every means at her disposal to make it happen without seemingly wanting anything in return. She wasn't stupid, she knew she still had to keep her eyes open, but it was nice to think that he was doing it because he had believed in her from the very beginning. Was it so absurd to think that someone could truly believe in her idea?
But she didn't want to argue at that moment, not when they were finally opening up a dialogue. - I'll think about it - she lied, getting to her feet herself. - Now I have to see Angel, I want to rehearse the speech with him -.
She was lying again, but she didn't want to tell him she was going to see Alastor; it didn't seem right after what they had just said to each other.
Her father smiled cheerfully. - But why? Tell him to come here! Maybe Vaggie would be happy about it too -.
She looked down, biting her lips. She would have liked to involve her too, but she knew she wouldn't keep that secret from her father. She felt indebted to him since he had welcomed her, and even if she had agreed, she probably wouldn't have liked the idea of going to Alastor's place.
- Well, actually, he wanted to see me alone to talk about some problems - she quickly blurted out. -You know... work problems -.
Her father seemed to deflate like a balloon. - Too bad, I liked the boy -.
She shrugged. - Maybe another time, what do you say? -.
She left without waiting for a reply, and when she reached the entrance, she saw Vaggie, who was probably returning from an evening walk, and their eyes met. The whole situation had done nothing but push them apart, and it seemed that their relationship was getting colder every minute that passed. She had so desperately wanted to involve her and let her know how happy she was at that moment, to share with her the joy of seeing her dream close to being realized. And yet, at that moment, she seemed almost like a stranger living in her house, someone wearing the body of a person she had known and loved. She hoped with all her heart that once things had calmed down, they would at least be able to recover their friendship, even if deep down she continued to harbour the desire for her to one day be able to see her as something more.
She walked past her, but before she could put her hand on the handle, she felt a touch on her shoulder. - You're going to see him, aren't you? - Vaggie asked hesitantly.
Charlie gritted her teeth and forced herself not to look at her. - No, I'm meeting with Angel -.
- Can I come with you? - she asked.
Why now? she thought in despair, turning in her direction. - He wants to talk about private matters; I wouldn't want him to feel uncomfortable -.
She looked at her with an inquisitive expression. - He was my friend too; I don't think I'd bother him -.
- People change, Vaggie, especially in difficult times - she replied evasively.
She closed the door behind her, and before she did, she managed to hear her response. - I know something about that -.
She leaned her back against the door and let a single tear escape her control. She hadn't changed; she was just determined to get what she wanted for once, and for something good for all of them. Was it so wrong to fight for that idea? Her mother would have understood, in fact, she would certainly have supported her with every means at her disposal. She missed her terribly, especially at that difficult time.
She wiped her face and started walking again, dialing a taxi number.
She arrived at the establishment and rushed inside. Just like the first time, it was full of people, and Alastor was at the counter talking to a refined-looking demoness with a showy hat on her head.
His scarlet eyes noticed her in the crowd, and he invited her to join him with a wave of his hand. The demoness he was talking to turned around as well and smiled at her with a row of sharp teeth.
- Alastor, you rascal! You didn't tell me we were going to have such an important visitor; I would have primped up - she chided him good-naturedly, tapping him on the shoulder.
The demon gave her a knowing smile. - Chérie, you don't improve on what's already perfect -.
- Flatterer - she prompted him, then gave her full attention to Charlie. - Nice to meet you, Princess! I'm Rosie, an old friend of our dear Alastor -
Charlie smiled back at her, shaking her hand. - It's a pleasure, and please, call me Charlie -.
Rosie took her by the arm, pulling her closer. - So, what brings you here besides the atmosphere and good food? - she asked.
She felt herself blush at that question; it seemed to imply that there might be something between her and Alastor, and this completely sent her brain into a frenzy. Had he put that bug in her ear?
The Radio Demon seemed to sense her galloping anxiety and was quick to answer. - Charlie is a welcome guest as we're considering becoming business partners - he replied calmly, getting the attention of the bartender to be served a drink.
Rosie turned to her, her eyes wide. - You've decided to invest in the business? Oh, I can't blame you; it's fundamentally important for a woman to have a good nose for business, and I know something about that -.
She forced a smile, while the demoness didn't seem to have any intention of letting go of her arm. - Yes, let's just say we need to talk about that - she tried to add to put an end to any speculation.
- Oh, Alastor, you're already making her work at these absurd hours, and you're not even officially partners yet? It hurts your image - she said, placing a hand on her hip.
The demon picked up the glass of whiskey he had been served, beginning to swirl it. - The princess's agenda is full of commitments; I have to take advantage of her every free moment -.
Finally, Rosie let go of her arm, moving away. - Well, I won't hold you up any longer. It was a pleasure meeting you, Charlie! If you get tired of him as a partner, call me! -.
She smiled at her gently. - I won't forget -.
She turned to the counter and found the usual bartender intent on mixing his drinks. - Can I have a non-alcoholic one, please? - she asked him as sweetly as possible, worried about disturbing him.
In response, he gave her a thumbs-up. - Coming right up -.
She turned back to Alastor, who was watching her with a satisfied look. - So, I assume you're here because you've already prepared your speech -.
She nodded, twisting a lock of hair between her fingers. - Yes, since we'll be partners if all goes well, I wanted to ask for some advice to avoid a disaster -.
The bartender handed her a glass. - Here you go, Princess -.
Before he could walk away, Alastor reached a hand over the counter and grabbed him by one of his suspenders. - Allow me to introduce you to Husker, a future soul in search of redemption -.
He tipped the hat he was wearing on his head, although he seemed terribly irritated by the interruption. - Just call me Husk -.
She extended a hand in his direction to shake it. - Nice to meet you, Husk! Call me Charlie -.
- I think you already know Angel Dust - the demon continued, bringing the glass to his lips. - He will be another welcome guest -.
She found herself wide-eyed in disbelief. - I can't believe it. How did you convince him? -.
He shrugged. - He cares about you, and that was enough to convince him -.
She felt her stomach in turmoil with that mix of joy and agitation that kept stirring her soul. Alastor, as she had expected, was proving to be a truly valuable help, and she couldn't wait to hear what he would think of her speech.
- When can we talk? It's a bit chaotic here right now - she commented, looking around.
Alastor looked at the place as well, then invited her to follow him, putting an arm behind her back without touching her. - This way, chérie -.
He led her behind the counter and into the kitchen, where a small cook with a single, large eye in the centre of her face was running back and forth frantically, simultaneously managing every single preparation.
- And this is Niffty. She will also be part of our future project - he told her.
Niffty stopped to greet her. - Nice to meet you! - she squealed, then resumed cooking.
Alastor led her through the kitchen to a wooden door that housed what must have been his study. It was a room with a small window and tall wooden shelves that held various accounting books and some decidedly old-looking recipe books. In the centre was a wooden desk on which some papers that looked like invoices and supplier receipts were placed. She wondered how he didn't feel suffocated in that environment so full of paperwork; she probably would have gone crazy.
He invited her to sit on a chair, and he took a seat behind the desk in the swivel chair, adjusting his jacket. - So, tell me everything -.
She only noticed at that moment that he had closed the door, and she felt uncomfortable being alone with him, even though she was aware that she was still close to a room full of people. - Two of the future guests work for you. Are they... your souls? - she asked him, perplexed.
Alastor's eyes glowed for a second. - You have a good eye, chérie. Indeed, they are part of my entourage, if you want to call it that -.
She stiffened in the chair. - Then I don't think they're worth much if you're forcing them, do you? -.
- Forcing them? - he asked with a resentful air, leaning toward the desk. - It goes against my interest to lose them in favour of Heaven, and I wouldn't call it coercion so much as a gentle push in the right direction -.
She was forced to admit that he was definitely good with words; he always had a ready answer for any question. It was pointless to bite the hand that would soon feed her. They were still souls she could try to save, and she was also aware that Alastor, as an Overlord, probably had them in abundance, and the fact that he had granted her two almost did him credit in some strange way.
She began to open the red folder she had brought with her, but in the frenzy of the moment, she spilled a good part of the coloured cards on the desk. She saw that Alastor was staring at them in shock, his eyes wide and his ears pulled back.
- Sorry! - she exclaimed, trying to pick them up. - The opening is defective - she tried to justify herself, as she tried to put them in order in every way.
Alastor grabbed one, looking at it as he adjusted his monocle on his nose. - I don't mean to be too blunt but using quotes from the dictionary wouldn't sound redundant and... pointless? - he asked, turning the card on which she had written the definition of “redemption” in blue marker toward her.
She pouted her lower lip. - You think so? Then I'll have to eliminate quite a few -.
- I think that's the case, chérie - he commented seriously, handing it to her. - Besides, I don't understand the need for all this paper. It's a fairly simple speech. How many words did I even use when I explained it to you today? -.
Charlie looked at him, annoyed. When it came to business, he definitely changed personality and became quite arrogant, although she couldn't really blame him. After all, he was also betting on her idea in some way. - Well, it's always better to be prepared. I want to be sure they understand and listen to me -.
The demon sighed, slightly loosening his bow tie with a pained expression. - The fact that they listen to you doesn't depend on the number of words you use to describe your project, but on the conviction with which you do it -.
She looked at him, unable to hold back an almost admiring gaze for the way he was able to carry himself every time. He would be an excellent partner. - So what? What should I do? -.
Alastor rested his elbows on the desk, massaging his forehead with his claws. - Speak with determination, as if you are doing them a favour and not the other way around. Make them think it's something that will also benefit them and bring them long-term benefits -.
She listened intently to what he was saying and tried to compose herself before she looked like a complete fool. - Got it, self-confidence - she said seriously, then leaned her back against the chair. - Too bad I don't have any - she found herself saying disconsolately.
The demon shook his head. - Chérie, you're the princess of Hell, not just anyone. Show your claws -.
Once again, she saw him pull the knot of his crimson bow tie and put on a pained expression as he did so, and she couldn't help but worry. - Are you okay? -.
Alastor's eyes widened for a second. - Of course, don't worry. A small discussion with a client - he replied in an evasive tone.
She stood up and went toward him. - Let me see, maybe I can do something -.
He gently pushed her away. - You don't have to worry; it's nothing that can't be solved with a little rest and a healthy dose of whiskey -.
She rolled her eyes. - Stop it and let me see. I can't lose my partner before we've even started the work -.
The demon's ears twitched nervously, but in the end, he seemed to be convinced. He unfastened the knot and then did the same with the first buttons of his collar, lowering it to show her the wound. She gasped when she saw it; she recognized that type of mark well. When she was a child, her father had had his disagreements with many inhabitants of Hell, and every time he grabbed them, the same identical marks remained on them.
She looked at the wound and then at Alastor more than once, unable to hold back some agitated gasps. - Who... who did that to you? - she stammered.
The demon pulled the collar of his shirt back up, keeping his eyes on the desk. - I don't mean to be rude, but I'd rather not tell you -.
- Was it my father? -.
Alastor seemed to vibrate at her question and turned on the chair, turning his back to her. - I'll repeat myself. I don't appreciate talking about my private matters -.
She grabbed the chair and forced him to turn back toward her, getting so close to him that she could feel his breath on her face. - They concern me too if it's about him -.
The Overlord sighed as he met her gaze. – Yes - he replied in a whisper. - In his defense, I can say he did it because he feared for your safety -.
She found herself backing away a few steps until her back hit the wooden bookcase, clenching her fists at her sides. - When did it happen? -.
- This afternoon - Alastor replied, looking at the cards still scattered on the desk. - I think he and your friend talked, or at least that's what I gathered. He kindly wanted to invite me not to proceed with our collaboration, but unfortunately, I've never been good at respecting the law -.
She clenched her jaw as she heard him say those things. Once again, both her father and Vaggie had chosen for her, or at least they had tried. He had even gone so far as to threaten Alastor not to take part in that project, and now she understood why he had been acting so strangely when she talked to him that evening. He thought he had already scared him and gotten rid of him, and that was also the reason why he had offered to let her stay home to carry out her idea. He didn't really believe in her; it was just a way to keep her under a glass dome, not to mention that he had risked killing him. She felt terribly guilty for having involved him in that madness, and he hadn't even mentioned it until that moment just to avoid a sure argument.
Alastor stood up and walked toward her, seeking her gaze, but she was unable to meet it at that moment. - Charlie, don't be mad at him. He's doing what any good father would do -.
- But he doesn't believe in me - she whispered, as her eyes filled with tears that were impossible to stop.
- I admit that my reputation doesn't help - he commented with irony, then placed his fingers under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. - But if it's any consolation, I believe in you -.
She knew that Alastor hated physical contact; she had already had proof of that today, but against all rationality, she rested her head against his chest to hide the tears that were starting to stream down her cheeks, and this time, he didn't seem to retreat or stiffen.
- Thank you - she murmured, fighting the urge to hug him. - I really appreciate it -.
She felt him mechanically stroking her head, as if he were completely uncomfortable and awkward with the gesture. - I wouldn't invest in you if I didn't - he commented in a trembling voice.
She moved away, realizing that it wasn't a good idea to overdo it with him with such contact. He had already been magnanimous enough by deciding not to immediately push her away.
- Now smile, chérie. Remember that a smile is the best weapon for situations like the one you'll face tomorrow - he told her, placing his hand on her face and pulling her lips with his thumb and index finger.
He hates contact, but he has no problem touching me she thought, strangely, as she found herself smiling in spite of herself at the funny gesture. – Okay - she replied, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. - Now let me treat the wound -.
He retreated as soon as she extended her fingers toward his neck, disappearing in a cloud of smoke and reappearing on the other side of the room. - There's no need; they'll be gone by tomorrow -.
Charlie rolled her eyes. - I won't hurt you -.
- That's not what I'm worried about - he replied, irritated. - I just don't appreciate being treated by others. They're nothing wounds. I swear the day I need it, you'll be the first one I call -.
It was useless to keep fighting; he wouldn't listen to her, and she had to appreciate the fact that he hadn't pushed her away before. So, she gave up the idea of helping him and sat back down on the chair.
- Okay but then help me rehearse the speech now -.
Alastor widened his smile, showing her his sharp teeth. - That, I will do with great pleasure -.
Notes:
Good afternoon! Here I am with the update!
Alastor is managing to insinuate himself into Charlie's life and is even trying to distance her from her family to achieve his goal, but at the same time, he offers her a way out of the marriage.
Rightfully, Charlie doesn't pass up the opportunity and, at the same time, develops more and more admiration for the Radio Demon.
It's going to take a loooong time before they both start to develop a relationship that's different from a professional/friendship one, so you'll have to be very patient to get to a point between them XD for this reason, Alastor can barely stand Charlie touching him.As always, I thank everyone who reads or reviews the story, truly! <3
See you soon!
Hugs :*
Chapter Text
Charlie had practiced late with Alastor, and that morning, she had woken up early so no one would see her. She didn't want to talk to Vaggie and her father right before the meeting; they would risk ruining the confidence the Radio Demon had managed to instill in her during those hours of rehearsal. She got ready in a rush and headed out, still holding a few biscuits to eat along the way, munching on them as she walked and mentally reviewing what they had discussed. She needed to look confident, resolute, and make them believe this arrangement was more convenient for them than for her. Alastor had made her throw away all her notecards but had left her one that he had written. She pulled it out of her jacket pocket, reading it as if it were a motivational quote, even though it contained little.
“Smile”
He had only left her that message before she left his studio, patting her on the head as if she were a puppy in need of a cuddle. By the time she left, the venue was closing, and Husk and Niffty were tidying the tables, and only then did she realize the time. She was genuinely tired; sleep had been scarce in the last few days, and even when she arrived home, she struggled to fall asleep, partly due to the anxiety that was starting to grow in her chest.
She looked at the small white card again and pressed it to her chest, forcing herself to smile just as he had advised. She didn't want to betray his trust, nor the trust her future guests would eventually have in her; she had to do it for all the souls in Hell.
She arrived in front of the embassy and found herself freezing before she could grab the doorknob. Her throat was starting to dry, and her hands were sweating as if she were on the verge of a terrible panic attack.
She closed her eyes and pushed the door open, continually repeating what Alastor had told her the night before.
You are the Princess, show your claws, she told herself, lifting her chin and standing straighter, quickly heading towards the room where she had last met with Adam.
She pushed the door open assertively, but all her conviction diminished the moment she saw that the High Seraphim was with him. She deflated like a popped balloon, sinking her head between her shoulders and raising a hand toward the two sitting at the head of the table.
- Good morning - she whispered, her voice seeming to die in her throat.
The angel stood up, while Adam remained sprawled in his chair as usual. - Good morning, Princess Morningstar, I am Sera, the High Seraphim - she began, bowing her head slightly, and in doing so, she shot a look of disapproval at her companion.
Adam seemed to snap out of it and stood up. - Oh yeah, hi, goldy-eyes - he said, pointing a finger-gun in her direction.
He still doesn't know what colour my eyes are, she thought venomously, as she closed the door behind her and headed toward the chair next to theirs. That comment from the angel managed to give her new strength, and she felt resolute again; she wouldn't let them win so easily, she would fight for her chance. She was the Princess of Hell and wouldn't yield without a struggle.
She took a seat next to Sera, deliberately avoiding sitting near Adam. - It's a pleasure to meet you, Sera - she said, giving her a warm smile. - And thank you for coming all this way -.
The Seraphim seemed pleased to hear her speak that way and smiled back. - It's my pleasure, Princess, especially I'm happy that you've considered our peace agreement -.
- A decidedly interesting agreement - Adam added, leaning toward her and scrutinizing her in the same way as last time.
Charlie barely restrained an expression of disgust and tried to focus only on the other woman. - Speaking of which, if it's not too much trouble, I have a proposal before we make the final arrangements -.
Adam straightened up in his chair. - Oh, you want a prenup, I knew it! -.
She wanted to slump in her chair but tried to remain straight. - Actually, I have a counter-proposal that might satisfy you more as well; after all, I know divorce isn't always looked upon favourably - she commented.
Sera seemed surprised by her way of speaking but suddenly became interested. - We are listening, Princess -.
Alastor's plan is working, she thought excitedly, as she leaned toward her. - We all want to stop the Extermination, and for that, I am grateful, as you can well imagine. But I might have a way to reduce the souls in Hell without necessarily killing them -.
- And what do you want to do? Go to Earth and preach the Holy Word? If you succeed, they'll build you a statue; priests have been trying for centuries - Adam scoffed, earning yet another look of displeasure from the Seraphim. He finally seemed to quiet down, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms, and muttering under his breath.
Charlie resumed speaking, pretending that those interruptions didn't bother her at all. - I would like to try and redeem the souls of Hell, at least attempt it -.
Sera's light eyes widened, and she gasped. - Princess, I appreciate the proposal, but Heaven has rules, and those who end up in Hell cannot return -.
- Once you pull the chain, you go down, baby! - Adam exclaimed again.
The angel turned to him, glaring. - Adam, that's enough - she hissed sharply.
Charlie leaned toward Sera, trying to get her attention again. - I know it's difficult, but why not try? Besides, it would give Adam and me time to get to know each other to iron out differences that might come up in the future and trouble Heaven -.
He seemed ready to say something but stopped as soon as Sera raised a hand in his direction.
- So, what do you propose? - she asked, suddenly interested.
The Princess was starting to sweat profusely; all she had in her head was her speech and the pounding of her heart in her temples. - I'm asking for one year. Once a week, I will meet with Adam to get to know each other better, and in the meantime, I will try to redeem one soul. If I fail, I will accept any condition -.
- But this is bullshit! - Adam burst out then, slamming his fist on the table. - Sera, you can't accept something like this! The damned earned Hell, end of story -.
Sera, however, seemed thoughtful and completely ignored Adam's comment. Her soft, light wings moved behind her back, while her shoulders slowly rose and fell, as if she were taking deep breaths to calm down. Charlie couldn't tell if it was because of the proposal she had made or the absurd behaviour of her colleague, who seemed more like a dockworker than an angel.
Sera fixed her light eyes on her. - The request to get to know your future husband seems fair, but as for the souls to redeem, I cannot guarantee that we will accept it -.
She knew it was absurd, but she found herself grasping the angel's hands as if to plead with her. - Please, give me a chance to show you that there are those down here who deserve a second chance -.
Sera's eyes went to their hands while she kept her eyelids lowered. Charlie remained still with her heart in her throat, praying with all her might that they were about to listen to her, that she had succeeded in her intent. She found herself thinking that perhaps she should have brought Alastor along; someone like him would have surely found a way to convince them; he was too good with words.
A fresh sigh escaped Sera's mouth before she lifted her eyes to Charlie's. - So be it, we grant you one year - she declared seriously. - But we will choose the terms of this redemption, and we will decide the trials to subject the souls you wish to recruit to. In the meantime, Adam will come down once a week, and I expect you to maintain the fidelity due to an engagement -.
The other snapped up in his chair. - And I have to go down to this shithole once a week?! -.
The Princess swallowed the lump in her throat with difficulty. She hadn't considered at all that they might be the ones to choose the trials for the souls she wanted to bring to Heaven, and she was terrified of what those might entail. At the same time, however, she was terribly happy to have achieved something, and her eyes welled up with emotion.
- Thank you, Sera, we won't disappoint you - she told her happily.
The Seraphim nodded sternly, then turned to Adam. - Now, let's go, we have things to discuss - she said seriously, giving him a look that told him not to dare speak further. - We will inform you in a few weeks for the signing of this agreement; in the meantime, we want the information regarding the souls you intend to redeem. We will provide you with what is necessary -.
Charlie kept nodding frantically, her smile only growing wider. - Of course! Absolutely! -.
When the two disappeared, transported by a golden light, she let out an excited shriek before rushing out of the room and running outside, straight in the direction of the Scarlet Wave.
She couldn't wait to tell Alastor.
The Radio Demon paced back and forth across the venue, continually checking his pocket watch at regular intervals, almost wearing a groove into the floor from his constant walking. The time for the Princess's meeting had arrived, and he had to await news from her, hoping she would immediately come to tell him. His stomach was in knots, and he kept hoping those idiotic angels would accept the terms of his proposal and that Charlie was able to speak properly. The night before, he had to use his limited reserve of patience to explain what to do and make her throw away those useless and absurd coloured notecards. There were so many that they had entirely filled the wastebasket in his studio, and he had thrown them into the fireplace in his room as soon as she had left. He couldn't fathom how a royal could be so childish and consider an absurd possibility like redemption, but that shouldn't matter to him right now; he just had to hope he had bought some time.
He smiled at the thought of how simple it had been to make her doubt her father and her friend; their relationships must be more strained than he had expected. He touched his neck where the wounds had disappeared, though a faint scar remained.
- Good morning, friend -.
Angel Dust's irritating voice reached his ears; this morning, he was finding it truly difficult to tolerate him given his agitation. - Could you stay away, at least for this morning? I'm expecting visitors - he hissed without sparing him a glance.
The spider looked around. - Is that why Husk and Niffty are holed up in their rooms? -.
He turned to glare at him. - Precisely, and you'd be wise to do the same -.
His tone was probably convincing enough, as the other began to back away until he reached the kitchen door and then disappeared from sight. Having proposed him for the Princess's redemption plan made him even more important than he was before, and he was forced to repeat this to himself at least a hundred times a day to avoid tearing him to shreds every single time he opened his mouth.
He tried to breathe regularly and sat down on one of the stools, trying to sip the coffee he had prepared that morning, although at that moment he would have preferred something decidedly stronger. The wait was making him hysterical, and he began to wonder if he shouldn't start considering the idea of getting one of those damned calling contraptions that were so fashionable; at least he would receive news in real-time.
The venue door suddenly burst open, and the Princess appeared before him. She was breathless and sweaty, her cheeks red, and her hair scattered across her face. She must have run quite a distance to get to him, and he appeared before her, promptly offering her a glass of water.
- Chérie, there was no need to run - he said, trying to sound accommodating. - I would have waited as long as necessary -.
She held a hand to her chest, trying to speak, but her shortness of breath prevented it. - I-I-I wanted... -.
He guided her to sit at one of the tables, signalling her to breathe. - Take it easy; we wouldn't want to risk syncope -.
Speak, damn it, he thought in the meantime, trying not to let his gaze reveal how eager he was for information about the meeting. He was, however, decidedly pleased that she had made that rush to come to him and tell him everything; it gave him a measure of how important she considered his opinion.
Charlie sat down, fanning her face with one hand and frantically drinking the water he had served her. - Thank you - she puffed out in a tired voice. - I wanted to tell you everything right away -.
He nodded, taking a seat beside her. - So, did they accept? -.
In response, she nodded, widening her dazzling smile and opening her eyes wide. - Yes! - she trilled happily. - They accepted! They’re giving us a year! -.
His smile widened to the point that he thought it might tear. Everything had gone according to plan; even Heaven had fallen into the web he had woven, and he couldn't have been more satisfied. He was quite confident in the outcome, but for one crazy moment, he had feared those cursed beings would refuse. The pieces were moving in the direction he had planned for them, and he just had to continue to be patient and endure; sooner or later, he would get what he wanted.
- Magnifique! - he exclaimed. - Did they make any other demands? -.
Now he needed to understand how to organize the rest of that year, and the information she would give him was crucial. Depending on how those humanoid birds moved, he would calculate the next steps.
The Princess's gaze clouded over for a second. - Well… actually, they want to be the ones to choose the trials and the terms of the redemption, but they haven't told me yet what they will consist of. They definitely want all the information about the souls, and I think we should get to work soon to figure out how to proceed -.
Alastor stifled a growl; he had hoped they would give them freer rein, but it wasn't a problem anyway. Not having them around every day was certainly a victory already; he had to continue to remain lucid.
- Negligible details, chérie. The important thing is that they accepted - he replied, leaning on the table. - I agree with you that we should start as soon as possible. On that note, will you be coming here every morning? -.
It was time to start bringing her even closer; he had to convince her to move there for that year so he could keep her under total control. If he gave Lucifer or the watchdog a chance to put some strange idea in her head, his plans could suffer.
Charlie tapped her chin thoughtfully. - Actually, yes, although coordinating everyone's schedules will be difficult, I think -.
He nodded, feigning indifference. - That is true, so what do you suggest? Do you think I should set up a room for you too? -.
The Princess's face, if possible, turned even redder. He truly couldn't understand those absurd reactions she had sometimes; she seemed tense and trembling, and it was impossible for him to grasp the reason. He always behaved impeccably, maintained the correct distances, and gave her no reason to suspect any ulterior motives. So why did those cheeks turn that crimson colour every time?
He tried to look away and focused on the wooden table; it was strangely pleasant to see her react that way, and he couldn't dwell on such details; he already had enough to think about.
- I don't know… or rather, maybe yes… I don't know - she blurted out, letting her head drop onto the table.
He suppressed the eye twitch that this behaviour was causing him and patted her on the shoulder. - Don't worry, we'll find a solution for this too. You know my door is always open for my friend and associate -.
Charlie turned towards him, sitting up straight and giving him yet another grateful smile. It was strange to be looked at that way; usually, he received decidedly different looks. - Thank you, Alastor; if it weren't for you, I never would have succeeded -.
He shrugged, finding himself looking away once more. - Nonsense, I'm happy to have done it -.
- I know you don't like contact, but I can't resist! -.
Before he could understand what she meant, he found her arms tightly clasped around his neck, and he stiffened. He detested being touched in every single situation, even more so when it came to things as gooey and silly as hugs. He was so unaccustomed to such contact that he had no idea where he should put his hands and found himself, for the second time, spreading his arms wide so as not to return the embrace. The Princess's blonde hair tickled his nose and gave off an intense scent of strawberry and red berries, like the tarts he ate as a child. He had noticed it the day before and had found himself dwelling, against all rationality, on pleasant memories from his life.
She didn't seem inclined to let go, and those slender arms were practically strangling him like a boa, and he restrained the urge to push her away by pushing her face with his hand. As if that weren't enough, her nose near his neck was tickling him due to her frantic breathing, and shivers ran down his spine. He had always been particularly sensitive to tickling and had to refrain from bursting out laughing in her face.
Odious and cloying sentimentalities, he thought, lowering his arms so as not to continue holding them up like a poor fool and patting her on the shoulder with his palm, completely incapable of thinking of anything better to do at that moment.
After seconds that seemed like an eternity, she finally decided to let him go, and he could finally breathe again. - Okay, that was the last hug, I promise - she said, placing one palm on her chest and raising the other in the air.
He looked at her, lowering his eyelids slightly. - Chérie, don't make promises you're not sure you can keep - he replied, trying not to let his irritation show.
Charlie lowered her gaze, biting her lower lip. - Okay, let's just say I'll do my best. How about that? - she laughed nervously. - Now I have to go home; I'd like to tell Vaggie and dad too.”
He stood up to escort her to the door. - Of course, I imagine they will also be delighted with your success and the beginning of this project -.
Predictably, the Princess stiffened when she heard him utter that sentence. - Yeah… or at least I hope so - she whispered sadly in response.
He opened the door for her. - I hope to see you soon, but take your time. We'll be here waiting for you -.
She smiled at him again in that sweet and strange way, and for a second, he couldn't help but return a sincere smile, unable to resist. He closed the door behind her and took a deep breath, adjusting his jacket on his shoulders with a satisfied air.
A sound of pots falling to the ground struck his sensitive ears, followed by various curses from Husk and Angel.
- With your damn blockhead, you only cause trouble! - the bartender yelled.
- This kitchen is made for gnomes! Who hangs pans at this absurd height?! -.
He massaged the bridge of his nose as he headed to the kitchen, finding his three guests inside busy tidying up the mess they had just made. It was definitely going to be a tough cohabitation for his sensitive nerves.
He looked at them all with an inquisitive air. - I imagine you didn't miss the opportunity to eavesdrop -.
They all straightened up, looking around and trying to pretend nothing was wrong.
Husk was the first to speak, scratching the back of his neck with one hand. - So, this madness is happening? -.
He nodded with satisfaction, twirling his staff between his fingers. - And speaking of things that are happening - he commented, looking at him maliciously.
He snapped his fingers and made a straw skirt, a pink flower behind his ear, and a ukulele appear on the bartender, leaving him completely bewildered.
The porn star burst out laughing. - Damn, you always leave him like that? -.
Niffty examined the skirt, pulling at one of the strands. - This is flammable -.
The bartender's eyes widened. - Change me back! -.
Alastor shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. - If my memory serves me correctly, you said you would put on a show for us if I was right, so go ahead - he said, opening the kitchen door and nodding for him to pass through.
Angel had pulled out the hateful contraption he always kept with him and started recording the scene. - I'm saving this one -.
Husk glared at him, walking toward him. - Try it, and you'll have to pull that thing out of your ass! -.
He rolled his eyes; this forced cohabitation would truly test him.
Charlie had arrived home, and in the huge living room, you could hear a pin drop; the only audible sound was the click of her boot heels on the bright, polished marble. Now that she was more relaxed, the moment had finally come to talk to her father about what had happened with Alastor the day before, ask for explanations, and make it definitively clear to him that she wouldn't abandon her new associate.
She was now convinced she could define Alastor that way, especially in light of how capable he'd been of helping her with the interview and postponing the marriage, at least for a while. He had given her the escape route she desperately needed, and she would be forever grateful to him, not to mention that he hadn't lost heart even when she told him that Heaven would choose the trials and terms of redemption. Someone like him would be useful to her in that situation, and for this reason, she wouldn't back down in front of her father.
She found both him and Vaggie sitting on the living room sofas, engaged in different activities. Vaggie was reading a book, which Charlie knew was her way of trying to calm her nerves when she was tense, while her father was employing a decidedly peculiar tactic: churning out an absurd quantity of pancakes and carrying them into the room. He held three plates on one arm, two on the other, and gripped the cutlery with his teeth; he looked like an acrobat mid-performance.
She cleared her throat to get their attention, and as soon as the Seraphim saw her, he startled, dropping every single plate to the floor with a dull crash of breaking crockery, while the cutlery suffered the same fate the moment he opened his mouth.
- Sweetie! - he trilled nervously. - Don't keep us in suspense, tell us everything! -.
She observed her father dressed much less formally than usual; he wore a black T-shirt and black pants that made his white complexion stand out even more. He was also wearing an apron printed with a gigantic smiling cake that read, "Mornings are Sweeter with a Slice of Me."
She smiled at the sight. - They accepted, dad, I get to try -.
Her father almost jumped on the spot, and in his rush to meet her, he slipped on a pancake, ending up with his legs in the air.
- Sir! - Vaggie exclaimed, jumping to her feet and going to him along with Charlie.
The king was sprawled on the floor, covered in much of what he had cooked, with remnants of strawberries and honey stuck in his blonde hair. - I'm fine, don't worry - he replied, wiping his arms, and then hugging her almost to the point of suffocating her. - I'm so happy, my girl! Does this mean you'll organize everything here? -.
Here comes the hard part, she thought, starting to sweat profusely again. Vaggie, probably sensing from Charlie's stunned and tense expression what she was about to say, stood up with her back to them, crossing her arms over her chest.
She helped her father stand up, trying to wipe the cream off his back but only succeeding in getting more on him and making her hand sticky.
- Actually - she began, her voice strained. - I don't feel right cutting Alastor out… it wouldn't be fair -.
Her father's expression shifted from joy to irritation in the blink of an eye. - I thought we made that clear yesterday; you shouldn't associate with such trash -.
A surge of anger rose in her throat. - You know I know you went to see him yesterday, right? -.
The Seraphim stiffened suddenly. - What did that ridiculously large-eared deer tell you? -.
- Nothing from him, I just saw the marks you left on him - she replied, crossing her arms over her chest and holding her father's gaze; arguments had become routine, and she was getting good at sustaining those conversations.
Her father rubbed his neck, simultaneously picking off a piece of pancake that must have stuck to him. - I just wanted to make it clear that you won't become his partner -.
- Without consulting me? That's becoming a habit -.
Vaggie turned in her direction, looking nervous. - Just as making absurd choices is becoming a habit for you, not to mention you lied to both of us about where you were yesterday -.
Charlie looked at her, shocked. - And how do you know? -.
- Because I followed you and saw where you went - she replied, letting out a puff of air through her nose.
She gritted her teeth to keep from rushing over and yelling in her face. How dare she do something so absurd? And by what right?
Lucifer looked at her sternly. - It's not like you to lie, Charlie -.
When had she become the one in the wrong? How had the tables turned? It was completely absurd that they couldn't share in her joy for more than two minutes; she truly couldn't fathom what was going through their minds right now.
She found herself running her hands through her hair and staring at them wide-eyed. - You're kidding me, right? If it weren't for Alastor, I'd be packing my bags to get married right now! -.
- And we will reward him with a fruit basket, but from now on, we will handle the matter. Maybe, in the meantime, you'll change your mind and realize that pursuing the redemption of sinners is an absurd idea - Lucifer replied, though his voice was strained from having to tell her something like that.
Charlie looked at him, distraught. - You still don't believe in it - she murmured dejectedly.
The Seraphim lowered his gaze. - Charlie, I've known these people for centuries. They will only hurt you, and you are risking throwing yourself away for them -.
She had definitely reached her limit of tolerance at this point; she wasn't going to take any more. She turned her back on both of them and headed quickly to her room, grabbing the first suitcase she could find and frantically stuffing in as many clothes as possible under the perplexed eyes of Razzle and Dazzle.
Lucifer and Vaggie reached her shortly after, watching her frantically throw everything in and move between her bathroom and the room to grab what she needed to leave. She would accept Alastor's offer and move out; she wouldn't be able to pursue her goal in that house since no one truly believed in her. Tears of anger and frustration were pushing to escape her eyes, but she kept wiping them away with the sleeve of her red jacket.
- Charlie, don't do this, let's talk! - her father tried to stop her, but she shook him off.
Vaggie also came to her, blocking her arms and trying to take the pyjamas out of her hand. - It's madness to go to him -.
- You're going to that deer-thing? I thought you were going to a hotel! - Lucifer blurted out then.
Charlie snatched the pyjamas from her friend and threw them into the suitcase before trying to close it, realizing at that moment that it wouldn't zip shut. She threw herself down onto it, jumping on it in a desperate attempt to move the zipper that seemed to be caught on one of her countless outfits.
- I'm going where I want, I'm an adult, and you can't stop me - she answered with difficulty, trying desperately to zip it up.
Lucifer seemed to be struggling to breathe. - Honey, please, this seems like an overreaction -.
She glared at him, while drops of sweat began to bead on her forehead from the effort. - I gave you the benefit of the doubt about the attack on Alastor, but you just proved that you never believed in me! You still think I'll change my mind -.
Vaggie entered her field of vision, her eye wide on her face. - Please, Charlie, don't force us to stop you by force -.
She felt her body burning and the horns on her forehead pressing to emerge. - And you think you're capable of that? -.
She was so frustrated and tired of the situation that this time she wouldn't let herself be stopped. She was tired of being treated like a child by the people who should be supporting her. If they weren't capable of it, she would go where her ideas were truly appreciated, to a place where people really believed in her without even knowing her and simply because they deemed her trustworthy. Even a bloodthirsty Overlord was better than that house right now; she was old enough to defend herself and pay attention; she didn't need a babysitter anymore.
The former angel had backed away when she saw her in that state, probably realizing that if she genuinely tried to restrain her by force, Charlie would retaliate.
Her father rushed toward her, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her while she was still sitting on the suitcase. - Charlie, try to listen to me for just a second. Someone like that guy will present you with a bill for his help sooner or later, and I don't want you to pay a high price -.
She finally managed to close the suitcase and dragged it away, turning her back on her father. - Or maybe, for once, you're wrong and he really is trustworthy, don't you think? -, she was slightly lying on that point; she didn't blindly trust the Radio Demon, but at that moment, he was her best option.
- No, not at all! - he replied, following her as she dragged the luggage through the corridors with both hands.
She didn't even look at him as she headed for the stairs, risking tumbling down in an attempt to hold onto the handle of the suitcase, whose wheels didn't seem to want to cooperate at that moment. This escape was turning into a pathetic scene, and she hated herself for her constant and incessant clumsiness that emerged at the most absurd times. She really was her father's worthy daughter.
The Seraphim rushed ahead of her and stood with his arms spread wide against the door. - I forbid you, understood? -.
- Dad, please move - she tried to tell him calmly, even as her mounting anger only increased at that moment.
He shook his head, pieces of strawberry still falling from his hair. - Think about it again, just for today -.
She let go of the suitcase to try to push him aside. - You think about it; we'll talk in a few days. We all need a break! -.
She finally managed to pull him away from the door and leave, while Vaggie continued to run after her. - Charlie, please! -.
She turned to her defiantly. - Why do you care so much? -.
The former angel seemed frozen by the question, and for a second, she held her breath. - Because you're my best friend; I don't want to lose you -.
That sentence delivered the final stab to her heart, and she turned her back on her again. - Exactly… a friend - she murmured as she walked away.
She had dragged that accursed suitcase for most of the way so she wouldn't have to call a cab and wait near the gates of her house; she didn't want to give her father or Vaggie another chance to talk.
She dropped it for a second at a street corner, sitting on it while unbuttoning the top buttons of her white shirt to catch her breath. It had been a completely absurd argument, and she felt like a complete idiot for having such a childish reaction as running away from home. An adult would have faced the situation instead of running away with her tail between her legs, but it was too late to cry over spilled milk.
She ran her hands over her face, which was still burning with anger and frustration, as she tried to catch her breath and get her thoughts in order. At this point, if she turned back, she would only give her father and Vaggie a reason to throw it in her face that she wasn't firm enough in her position, and she couldn't afford a misstep like that. She had to stick to her path and not look back.
My best friend, she thought sadly, sniffing. To Vaggie, she would always only be a friend, and it was useless to keep dwelling on it and hurting herself further; Vaggie would never feel the same way she did, and the sooner she accepted it, the better it would be for both of them. Continuing to hope that their relationship could evolve into something more was detrimental and would only cause her more pain.
She clapped her hands on her thighs before standing up; this wasn't the time to be overcome by discouragement. She had achieved what she wanted, which was the chance to try to redeem the souls of Hell, and this was more than she had expected even the morning before, so she couldn't give up. She had to be strong and persevere. She touched Alastor's note, still tucked into her jacket pocket, with her fingertips, and her lips involuntarily curved into a slight smile.
She resumed her journey, dragging the suitcase along the streets and realizing only then how long the walk was; other times it had always seemed shorter.
Probably because I wasn't dragging ten kilos of suitcase, she thought, disheartened, as she took off her jacket and put it over her shoulder to avoid arriving in a complete bath of sweat. She paused for a second, realizing she hadn't even warned him; she was simply going to show up without even telling him about it.
- Getting a cell phone wouldn't be a bad idea - she muttered to herself, as one of the suitcase wheels went north and the other south, like a supermarket cart.
She finally reached her longed-for destination and slumped against the wall for a moment to catch her breath. She looked up and noticed that the illuminated sign was still off, and looking at her wrist watch, she realized they were probably either having lunch or everyone was out of the venue. The curtains were drawn, and nothing could be seen inside, and even the strange radio tower that towered atop the multi-story building was dark.
She approached the wooden door and began to knock timidly, hoping someone was there.
- We’re closed! This damned place has been open for eight years, and you still haven't learned the hours! -.
She froze instantly; that was the voice of the bartender she had met, and for a moment, she thought of turning back and going home. Given his tone, he seemed quite irritated at the moment, and she was terrified of attracting his wrath.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped closer to speak. - Excuse me… I'm Charlie, I was looking for Alastor - she stammered nervously.
A sound of breaking glass made her flinch, while a familiar voice reached her ears. - Wow! Smiles was right again! You’ll have to keep the ukulele for a long time -.
- Shut your trap and go open the door! -.
Steps getting closer let her know that Angel was approaching to open up, and when she found him in front of her, her eyes widened, and she smiled brightly. - You're already here! I'm so happy you want to participate! - she exclaimed, throwing herself on him.
The spider demon sighed and stroked her hair. - It's a pleasure for me to see you again and to know we'll have you here for a while longer - he then glanced at the suitcase behind her back. - Are you officially moving in? -.
She pulled away, looking at the suitcase with embarrassment. - Yeah… as long as it's not too much trouble -.
The small maid, Niffty, flashed out the door like lightning, scrutinizing her with her large eye wide open. - I've already prepared your room, I'll take your luggage -.
- Oh no, don't bother, it's heavy -.
Stopping her was impossible; despite her frail appearance, she hid considerable strength and dragged her luggage to the back, disappearing from sight in less than a blink of an eye, leaving Charlie standing in the doorway with her mouth half-open.
She looked at Angel with a perplexed expression. - Did Alastor already know I was coming? -.
Her friend cleared his throat, then turned his back to her. - That guy is always prepared for anything; he doesn't like to be caught off guard -.
She stepped into the venue and closed the door behind her. When she looked at the counter, she was thrown off to find Husk with a flower of a bright pink colour behind his ear and what looked like a straw skirt.
- Um… Hawaiian night? - she asked.
The bartender growled, then sighed and rubbed his head. - No, I lost a bet, but please don't ask Princess -.
She approached, trying to hold back the smile that his comical attire was bringing to her lips, biting the inside of her cheeks. She almost burst out laughing when she noticed he even had a ukulele resting in front of him, but luckily, she managed to restrain herself.
- Just call me Charlie, we don't need all these formalities - she told him, sitting next to Angel. - Is Alastor here? -.
Her friend shook his head. - Negative, I think he'll be back later -.
- I need to tell Niff to prepare lunch - Husk commented, as he cleaned up the broken glass pieces from the floor.
Charlie stood up. - I can take care of it! No need to trouble yourselves -.
The cat demon wiggled his ears with a worried look. - I don't know if that's a good idea; the boss is very particular about the kitchen's order -.
Angel rolled his eyes. - Kitty, these two just became business associates! If she's staying here, she has to get settled in -.
When Husk turned towards her, she tried to put on the most reassuring look she could muster. She needed to do something, and sitting at the counter waiting for the Overlord wasn't in her plans. She wanted to demonstrate from the beginning that she wouldn't be a burden and that she was perfectly capable of managing things, even if her track record wasn't exactly in her favour.
The bartender sighed and pointed with his thumb toward the door behind him. - Help yourself -.
She clapped her hands, satisfied. - Thank you! - she exclaimed happily, passing behind the counter. - Do you guys want anything? -.
Angel shook his head. - I'm watching my figure, sweetie - he said, before chugging the shot glass in front of him.
She turned to Husk, waiting for an answer, but he almost seemed to blush. - Um… I don't want to inconvenience you -.
She put her hands on her hips. - Come on, don't be like that! -.
He scoffed before replying. - Whatever you're making for yourself is fine -.
She gave up trying to convince him to tell her if he wanted anything specific; she would have time to make friends with him, and perhaps cooking him something good would help. She entered the kitchen, finding it perfectly clean and gleaming; an intense smell of disinfectant filled the air. Just the night before, that same place had smelled of exquisite food, and she was surprised by Alastor's fussiness about things like that.
Some copper pans were hung near the stovetop, and on the wall bordering Alastor's studio, there was what must have been the cold room where food was kept. The black and white checkered floor was so clean it looked brand new, and she almost felt bad walking on it.
It would be nice to prepare something good to eat for her new associate too, to apologize for her sudden arrival, and with renewed vigour, she took off her jacket and put it on a coat rack where two aprons were also hung. She grabbed one, realizing that, given the size, it must belong to Niffty. She re-hung it to take the second, and in that case, it was immediately obvious that it was Alastor's, as it bore the embroidered words "Do Not Touch the Chef" in fine, bright red lettering. She tied her hair into a bun so it wouldn't risk falling into whatever she decided to prepare and rolled up the cuffs of her shirt.
Niffty's figure reappeared from a swinging door, looking at her perplexed. - Are you going to work in the kitchen too? -.
Charlie smiled, crouching down to her level. - No, but I wanted to prepare lunch for everyone -.
- I can do it! - she trilled, heading to grab her apron.
Charlie stopped her before she could reach it. - Let me do it for you; you can do it next time, okay? -.
Niffty widened her single eye, but finally nodded, showing her row of sharp teeth. - Okay! -.
Before Charlie could try to ask her what she wanted, Niffty darted back out through the door leading to the venue, and Charlie remained still, watching it open and close.
I'll just make the same thing for everyone, she told herself with a sigh, before heading to the cold room. It was larger than she had expected and filled with every food she could think of. She only shuddered when she saw a piece of meat hanging on the back wall with a metal hook, but she tried to slip past it so as not to risk touching it.
She looked at the metal shelves, trying to figure out what she really felt like having right now. Actually, seeing the pancakes her father had made had made her desperately crave them, so she decided they would have something sweet for lunch, a fun way to break the ice. She took all the ingredients and hurried out; the temperature had practically frozen her fingers and made her nose red. She placed everything on the metal counter next to the sink and set about searching for a bowl large enough to hold all the batter.
Once she found it, she followed all the steps she had learned from her father. She carefully sifted the flour, made sure to follow the correct milk measurements so as not to make the batter too runny, and armed herself with a ladle to always scoop the same amount of batter to make them all identical.
Once the batter was prepared, she focused on the topping, beginning to cut some strawberries she had found and combining them in a smaller bowl with some blueberries, adding a bit of lemon and mint. Once they were cooked and slightly cooled, she would also add cream and maple syrup. She looked at the pans in front of her and finally chose a medium-sized one; it was better to cook them one at a time rather than risk burning them.
She turned on the burner and waited for it to heat up sufficiently, leaning her back against the counter behind her. Once she had paused, she found herself thinking that just a few days ago, she never would have imagined being in an absurd situation like this. In the span of three days, she had received a marriage proposal, had two interviews with Heaven, left her home, and finally, formed ties with one of the most powerful and dangerous Overlords in the city.
She looked down at the black and white floor, trying to quell that inner voice that kept telling her she would never be able to accomplish anything good, and she realized that, for the first time, that voice sounded like her father's and Vaggie's. How she wished they could understand her, but now she had chosen her path and was determined to follow it.
She scooped a ladleful of batter and put it into the pan, where it sizzled.
She noticed with horror that on Alastor's immaculate white apron, there was a conspicuous red stain, probably from the juice of the strawberries she had cut earlier.
- Oh, damn it! - she exclaimed, heading toward the sink. - Dab, don't rub - she told herself, as she took it off and did her best to clean it.
Unfortunately, the stain only spread, and she prayed with all her might that Niffty had some powerful stain remover, as she didn't want to ruin something belonging to the Radio Demon on her first day living under the same roof.
The intense smell of burning snapped her out of the primary problem, and she turned around, noticing that the pancake was charring. She grabbed the handle of the pan to move it, but she immediately pulled her hand away because of the heat, hitting the bowl of batter, which fell to the floor, splashing all over the surrounding cabinets.
- Shit! - she exclaimed desperately, throwing the apron away and frantically searching for a mop to clean up the disaster.
As she rushed around the kitchen, she realized that the room had gotten decidedly warmer, and a terrible thought crossed her mind. She slowly turned her gaze toward the stovetops and realized that, in the madness of the moment, she had thrown Alastor’s apron right onto the flame, and it had caught fire.
She stood motionless, staring at the flames rising, not even knowing how she could explain the sequence of events that had led her to start a fire in what was previously a perfectly tidy kitchen.
- What is that smell of bu…oh, by Satan's giant balls! - Angel yelled as he entered.
She looked at him desperately. - I didn't do it on purpose -.
- I should hope not! He's going to kill us! – he shouted again, as he turned toward the bartender, who was staring at the scene with wide eyes. - Get the fire extinguisher! -.
Niffty popped out from under Angel's legs, looking at the scene with her eye wide. - Fire! -.
Charlie snapped out of her stupor and tried to grab the apron off the burner, then stomp on it with her foot to put it out. Angel had also entered and tried to fill glasses with tap water, but he ended up slipping on the batter spilled on the floor and hitting his forehead on the sink.
- Fuck! - he yelled. - Husk, where the hell is the fire extinguisher?! -.
The bartender arrived in the kitchen and observed the scene with horror. - We're dead - he sighed, entering as well and trying to activate it.
Charlie took it from his hands. - I'll do it, I took a fire safety course -.
- Did they also teach you how to start one? - Angel groaned behind her back.
She managed to pull the pin and aimed it in the direction of the apron, starting to spray the white powder toward the garment, which thankfully stopped burning quickly.
- What is going on?! -.
She looked up in the direction of the voice, but in doing so, she also moved her arms, and the white smoke poured over the newcomer. She quickly turned it off and froze when she saw who she had sprayed with the nitrogen.
Alastor’s red eyes seemed like two furious lamps, fixed right on her.
- Um… hi - she mumbled, raising her hand toward him and holding the fire extinguisher with the other. - There was a little accident -.
Alastor was undecided whether to tear them apart immediately or slowly. He still had his hand on the kitchen door and couldn’t move a muscle, his eyes still clouded by the nitrogen the princess had just sprayed on him. When he arrived, he immediately heard the screams and the smell of burning and didn't understand why the place was catching fire again, since Niffty shouldn't have been at the stove at that hour, and he had even sweetly yet aggressively warned her never to try to recreate any recipe containing the word flambé alone.
He focused his eyes on the three inside the kitchen. Husk's eyes were wide open, and he seemed to have even stopped breathing, while that syphilitic nuisance Angel Dust stood behind the princess with a noticeable mark on his forehead and some kind of dough stuck on his tuft of white fur. He then focused his eyes on the demoness, who remained with her hand raised and the red fire extinguisher clutched in her other arm. Her face was flushed, and she seemed to be desperately trying to appease him with a forced smile. His patience finally risked running out when he saw the condition of the kitchen. Sugary dough was scattered everywhere, the floor was burned, and his apron was... destroyed!
I'm going to kill them, all of them. To hell with the crown he thought as he felt his throat tighten with rage that was mounting by the second. He found himself dragging his claws across the wooden door, leaving marks, as he tried with all his might not to set them on fire. He took a deep breath and counted backward to avoid a massacre; it would have been counterproductive at this point. He couldn't fathom how that disaster had happened; he had been away for less than two hours, and in that time, they had risked causing that disaster. He didn't want to imagine what might have happened if he had been away longer on his walk.
- I am so sorry - Charlie murmured, picking up what was left of his apron from the floor. - I just wanted to make lunch -.
I don't even want to know he thought, as a static sound involuntarily escaped his lips, like an unstoppable radio interference. He had to try to remain calm, or he would ruin the trust he had just built. However, it seemed completely impossible given the disaster he found before him, not to mention the fact that he was covered from head to toe in sticky white foam.
He breathed once more, removing his monocle, which at least saved one eye from that sudden attack. - Chérie, didn't anyone warn you that Niffty could handle it? - he asked, trying not to let his rampant nervousness show.
Charlie moved her hands in the air like crazy. - Oh, yes! I just wanted to help - she hastened to reply, seemingly paling with every word. - I mean, since I'm going to be here, I wanted to prepare something to eat for you too, so I made pancakes, but I stained the apron, and then... -.
- Then you thought it was a good idea to set it on fire to hide the evidence? -.
He hadn't managed to restrain himself in the face of that torrent of words spewed out like a plea for forgiveness and haphazardly patched together; that demoness was grating on his nerves almost as much as the porn star behind her, who was watching the scene with an amused smirk.
The princess's pale skin grew even waxier, and she lowered her head like a child scolded by a parent. - Sorry... I wanted to do something nice -.
He ran a hand over his face, wiping off the foamy residue of the extinguisher, and trying with every fiber of his being not to assume his demonic form; it wasn't the time to add damage to his already ruined kitchen. He kept trying to draw air into his lungs to avoid exploding like a ticking time bomb; he had to look for the positive side of that madness. The princess, predictably, had moved in with him even earlier than expected, and this meant having her under his claws right from the start. He had to repeat to himself that it was for the success of his plan that he was enduring that insane situation and that for that reason, he couldn't instantly pulp them all and cook their livers in a pan.
With a snap of his fingers, he summoned his shadow servants, who immediately set to work to clean up the mess, under the guilty gaze of the princess, who remained still with the fire extinguisher in one hand and what remained of his apron in the other.
He looked up at her, trying to smile accommodatingly. - For your future reference, I prefer savoury; I am not a great lover of sweets - he told her, as he walked towards her, clutching his staff behind his back to avoid putting his hands around her neck.
Charlie looked up at him, her eyes filled with sorrow. - I promise it won't happen again –
I hope for your sake he thought, holding back those words from escaping his mouth.
He forced himself to broaden his smile and placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to be gentle. - A regrettable incident; unfortunately, they happen - he asserted. - I think you need to visit your room, if you haven't seen it yet -.
He turned his gaze toward Niffty, who, like lightning, ran toward the princess, taking her by the sleeve and escorting her out of the kitchen. Once he was sure the princess was far enough away, he focused his eyes on the other two remaining, who were trying to sneak out of the kitchen in a religious silence.
- Where do you think you're going? - he hissed.
Both froze on the spot, turning almost in sync toward him.
- Boss, I didn't think she would cause such damage - Husk began, the fur on his shoulders still bristling.
The spider demon nodded. - Yeah, no one expected it -.
He walked toward them, feeling his teeth grow in his mouth. - I hope for your physical integrity that an incident like this doesn't happen again - he whispered menacingly, an inch from both their faces.
The bartender tried to meet his eyes. - Perhaps we should discuss the situation better; if the princess stays here, many things are likely to change -.
If it hadn't been for the presence of that loudmouth Angel Dust, he would have pinned him to the wall, gripping his neck, but he couldn't risk the spider confessing to his friend how violent he could be with his subordinates, so he took yet another breath in the span of a few minutes and focused his eyes on the feline eyes of the cat demon.
- Nothing changes here; the hierarchy remains the same as always - he whispered, trying to frighten him with the simple use of words. - The dear princess will be forbidden from using the stove until further notice; any request of hers will be fulfilled by you or Niffty, and in the worst-case scenario, by our new guest -.
Angel Dust stared at him dumbfounded. - Did you take me for the maid? -.
He focused his flaming eyes on him, who seemed to shrink under his gaze. - I took you for someone who finds it convenient to stay under this roof and who would do well not to irritate me -.
He seemed intent on speaking again, but quickly closed his mouth when he leaned closer in his direction, his neck having stretched disproportionately to perform that movement.
- Clear - he stammered in response.
He returned to his normal size, while looking at his clothes still covered in foam. - Now, if you don't mind, I should go clean up -.
He materialized in his room in front of the mirror. Never in his unearthly existence had he been humiliated in that way; he looked like a circus clown. He shook off what remained of the nitrogen from his ears and took off his crimson jacket to throw it on the wooden chair next to him, then placed his monocle on the desk along with his staff.
He entered the bathroom and turned on the water, waiting for it to reach a decent temperature, and then closed the drain plug of the tub; he needed a moment alone in total silence. He undressed and once the water reached an acceptable level, he immersed himself, trying to soothe his tense nerves with the warmth. He slid down the edge until his head was submerged by the water, and all he could hear was the regular beat of his heart. He had to try to put a good face on a bad situation; he couldn't risk losing everything due to an explosion of rage.
The princess had left the king’s roof to join him, and this was an important fact in the execution of his plan, this way he had the opportunity to mold her calmly from the very first day and without anyone interfering. It was fundamentally important that he maintained his proverbial composure and didn't make any false moves, not when he was terribly close to his goal.
“Remember you owe a debt”
He pulled himself out of the water in a second, gripping the edge of the tub with his hands and panting agitatedly. He looked around the room in search of the owner of that voice but found no one but his shadow projected on the wall. He tried to calm the irregular beats of his heart and ran a hand over his face to move the tuft of hair that was stuck to his forehead. It wasn't the time to go crazy; he had to remain lucid. Charlie was in that building, close enough to grab, and that had to keep him on the straight and narrow; he had nothing to fear for the moment.
He finished washing and got out of the tub, drying himself quickly, then grabbing clean underwear and slipping into his red and black striped robe, while snapping his fingers to summon a well-deserved glass of aged whiskey, one of the best vintages he had ever had the pleasure of tasting. He was about to sit down in his armchair and start something on the turntable, but a knock at the door interrupted his relaxation ritual before an evening.
He was already ready to send whoever showed up to hell, but a whiny, sad voice reached his ears. - Alastor, it's Charlie. Can I come in? -.
Damn it, will she arrive at my door every second from now on? he thought irritated, as he swallowed the growl that was rising in his throat.
He set the glass down next to the turntable and headed for the door, trying to seem relaxed and serene for that unexpected and unwelcome visit. He turned the knob and found her in front of him with her fist still closed mid-air, ready to knock again, as if she doubted she had been heard the first time. He watched her stare at him for a long time before she suddenly blushed.
- So-sorry! I didn't mean to bother you -.
He only remembered at that moment that he was still in his robe, although he honestly didn't understand what had made her so tense; that garment covered him as much as his classic clothes, except for the flap of chest protruding from the opening near the neck.
- No bother at all - he forced himself to say, widening his smile. - Did you need something? -.
The princess remained on the threshold and focused her eyes on the doorpost. - I wanted to apologize again for what happened, and I wanted to tell you that the others had nothing to do with it... it was just me who caused that mess - she murmured, twirling the index fingers of both hands between them.
He lowered his eyelids, carefully scrutinizing her. She seemed terribly tense and agitated; some strands of hair were falling from her messy bun, and traces of smoke and pancake batter were still visible on her white shirt; she had probably done nothing but torment herself because of what had happened all that time.
Against his will, he found himself feeling sorry for that demoness who stood before him like a repentant in church asking forgiveness from the Almighty. This, in part, almost filled him with pride for the high opinion the princess probably held of him after the little time they had spent together. He had certainly worked hard to make himself look good in her eyes, but not even in his wildest dreams had he expected to make her feel something similar.
He leaned toward her and finally managed to catch her gaze, but he was struck by it even though it wasn't the first time he had looked into her eyes. Her crimson irises seemed to shine even in the darkness of that corridor and glowed with a light he had never seen in any inhabitant of Hell. The sensation they were conveying was strange, as if he were facing something delicate that needed to be handled with extreme care.
He blinked a couple of times and quickly came back to himself. - All forgotten, chérie; the important thing is that no one got hurt -.
She bit her dark lips with a canine. - So... are we still partners? -.
He found himself staring at her in shock. - Of course, did you doubt it? -.
The princess continued to relentlessly torment her lower lip, while her eyes wandered from one doorpost to the other. - Well, you never know... I mean, the first few hours were quite crazy -.
I dare say nerve-wracking he thought, still maintaining a relaxed smile. - We have time to iron out the details; now go relax and enjoy your room; we'll talk about it more calmly tomorrow -.
Charlie nodded sadly. - Okay, I'll stay in my room and won't disturb, I promise -.
She turned her back, and for a moment, the absurd urge to stop her crossed his mind, but in the end, he let her go and closed the door. It was not the time to dwell on those irrelevant details; as fragile as the princess seemed, she was still an extremely powerful demoness, even if her appearance could be deceiving, and he had to keep her in good regard.
He returned to sit in the armchair while picking up the glass of whiskey, bringing it to his lips and hoping the alcohol would manage to relax him more than that warm bath. He half-closed his eyes as he snapped his fingers to start the music, hoping the notes of that melody would manage to sedate every thought.
Notes:
And here I am again!
I'll give you a laugh. After writing the kitchen scene where Charlie sets fire to the apron, this actually happened in my own life:
Friend X: 'Silvia, the timer went off, you need to drain the pasta.'
Me: 'Oh, you're right!' (I toss away the towel I had in my hand to hurry, but after a moment I look around because I smell something strange) 'Do you smell that, too?'
Friend X: 'Yeah, it smells like burnt plastic. Did you put the pot on the strainer?'
Me: 'No...' (I turn towards the towel that landed WAY too close to the flame lit under the sauce) 'Oh shit, it's catching fire!'End of the sad tangent on how certain things happen in real life too. Art imitating life, imitating art, and so on and so forth! >.<
Embarrassing anecdotes aside, Alastor has now reached his first goal: to at least partially separate Charlie from her family and have her available 24/7. But it seems this new cohabitation will be more difficult than he anticipated! XD Will the Radio Demon manage to maintain his proverbial self-control?
As always, I sincerely thank everyone who reads or reviews this story, truly <3
See you soon!
Chapter Text
Charlie had stayed in her room the whole time since she had involuntarily set fire to the kitchen. In the frenzy of the moment, she had even taken what remained of Alastor's apron with her, and now she was sitting on the bed, staring at it dangling from a corner of the wooden chest of drawers, which was topped with an oval mirror.
She turned her gaze back to the wooden floorboards beneath her, swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress, and then looked around the room. It was quite sterile, though impeccable and larger than she would have expected. A wide window with sparkling panes stood out on one wall. In front of it was a dark green leather sofa with soft cushions of the same colour, and heavy velvet curtains were tied back with golden cords to prevent the morning light from filtering in. A teardrop chandelier, very similar to the one in the establishment’s main hall, hung from the ceiling. The walls were white, devoid of any paintings or decorations, as if waiting for her to put something up. The four-poster bed had light linen sheets, like those in a hotel, and the pillows smelled of lavender. Besides the chest of drawers, she also had a small walk-in closet, but she hadn’t yet unpacked the immense pink suitcase she had brought with her. The room was also equipped with a personal bathroom complete with both a bathtub and a shower; the fixtures were dark, and the sanitary ware was ivory coloured. It was the only room without a stone floor.
When she had arrived, she was surprised that Alastor had reserved such a large room for her and was grateful for his thoughtfulness, even if she hadn't considered it necessary.
Despite being just one floor above the main area, she hadn't heard any noise coming from the floors below; the Overlord had probably taken the precaution of soundproofing the room for potential guests.
The night before, she had paced back and forth for hours, undecided whether to try and go downstairs or not, but in the end, she had abandoned the idea and collapsed face-first onto the bed, hoping to be swept away by sleep.
Niffty had been kind and brought her something to eat and drink for dinner before starting the evening service, and Charlie now looked at the silver tray still resting on the bedside table, the cloche not far away, revealing the little she had left on the plate.
Her rumbling stomach forced her to get out of bed to find something for breakfast. Maybe she could find some milk and cereal to avoid further disasters.
She quickly washed her face and slipped on the plush slippers she'd had the foresight to bring from home. She looked at herself in the chest of drawers' mirror while combing her hair to at least tidy herself up a bit. She didn't yet know the habits of this place, but at home, she was used to going down for breakfast still in her pyjamas, and she wondered if it would be the same here.
Might as well try, she thought, smoothing down her long-sleeved red shirt with her hands before picking up the tray to take it downstairs.
Silence reigned in the hallway outside her room. In total, there were six doors positioned along the corridor, three on each side. The one opposite hers belonged to Alastor, located at the end near the only window that let in the exterior light. In that same corner were the stairs leading to the upper floors and, presumably, to his radio tower. Hers, on the other hand, was the room closest to the stairs that led to the back of the establishment, and her window overlooked the internal courtyard. The view, in fact, was perhaps the only flaw in the perfect room he had reserved for her. Not much could be seen except the alley behind the place and the neighbours' windows.
In front of her was what she identified as Husk’s room, given the plastic tag attached to the doorknob that read, ‘Don't bother me, I'm on break’, prominently displayed.
- Clear - she commented, observing it, before heading to the back.
She entered the kitchen and, to her great joy, noticed that the floor was immaculate again; not the slightest trace of burn marks remained. She placed the tray on the sink; she would wash it after breakfast.
She distinctly smelled coffee coming from somewhere, but there was no sign of a coffeepot or machine in the kitchen. She followed the scent until she realised it was coming from Alastor’s study.
She peeked past the half-open door and saw the Overlord sitting at his desk, sipping from a mug while holding the newspaper open in front of his face.
She wanted to go in to say hello, but she realised he was already perfectly dressed, while she was still in her pyjamas, and she didn't want to be caught looking so undignified.
- Niff, pass me the orange juice -.
Angel’s voice, coming from the main hall, caught her attention, and she decided to come back later to talk to him; at least she would have time to get dressed.
When she arrived in the hall, she was happy to note that her fellow roommates didn't share their host's impeccability. They were all still in their pyjamas, just like her, even Husk.
- Morning - she greeted them, raising her hand.
Angel returned the greeting with a nod of his head. - Sleep well? -.
She nodded, although it had been quite a restless sleep. She still couldn't quite grasp the fact that she had literally run away from home to take refuge in an Overlord's lair, but she would get used to it sooner or later.
On one of the tables in the hall was an excessive quantity of croissants and pastries, along with coffee, orange juice, and cranberry juice. The others were sitting around, helping themselves, so she decided to do the same, taking a chair and joining them.
- Did you make these? - she asked Niffty, taking a croissant that seemed filled with jam.
Niffty shook her head. - They arrive every morning from the bakery nearby -.
- Yeah, the demoness who works there still hasn't figured out that Smiles hates sweets - Angel commented, biting into a fruit pastry. - He doesn’t know what he’s missing -.
- She certainly isn’t missing anything - Husk commented flatly, drinking from his mug.
She looked at them all with a puzzled expression. - Are you telling me she sends them every morning? And him? -.
The bartender shrugged. - He thanks her and then declines her invitations to hang out -.
She looked at the food in front of her with disappointment. - Well, he could at least go out once, even just as friends to return the favour -.
Angel chuckled, amused. - It's more likely a camel will pass through the eye of a needle than Alastor will go out with anyone, male or female -.
She mentally made a note to talk to him about the matter; she felt uncomfortable eating something that wasn't even technically reserved for her, something perhaps carefully and affectionately prepared, while knowing the Radio Demon wouldn't even bother to offer the poor girl a coffee. The croissant, however, was so good that she couldn't think about it anymore and found herself eating it serenely while sipping orange juice.
- So, how’s this redemption thing going to work out?” - Angel asked point-blank.
She nearly choked on the juice she was drinking, and Niffty began patting her back in a desperate attempt to help her. She hadn’t thought about it at all, having been so caught up in the fight with her father and Vaggie, and then the risk of setting the place on fire. Sera had said they would dictate the terms and that they would require information on the souls she wanted to try and redeem, but she would still have to find a way on her own to help them in that process.
The harsh reality, though, was that she had no idea how to start. Everything had been so fast that she had barely had time to reflect, even though she already had a few ideas.
- Well, I’m not really sure yet - she stammered, trying to sound calm. - I mean, maybe I'll go to the bookstore this morning to look for something about it -.
Husk’s eyes widened. - No offence, but we’re in Hell; I don’t think any bookstore sells any kind of holy scripture -.
- And I also don’t think a 'Good Sinner’s Manual' exists, unless you want to be the first to write it - Angel added, adjusting the knot of the black silk dressing gown he was wearing.
She held back the resigned sigh that was about to escape her lips and started pouring sugar into the cup of coffee she had just poured. They weren't wrong, but she hoped there might be something that could give her some ideas, perhaps books on meditation or personal growth.
Niffty suddenly jumped off her chair. - The shower is mine! - she hissed in a challenging tone before dashing off.
Angel sprang to his feet. - Don’t use all the hot water again, damn it! You're a hamster, and you use as much as an elephant! -.
She looked at them both, questioning. - Don’t you have a bathroom in your room? -.
Husk shook his head. - Shared bathrooms on the upper floor. Why, do you have one? -.
She felt herself flush at the question and didn't know how to answer. She didn't want to put Alastor in an awkward position, but at the same time, everyone would notice that she never used the communal one. She found herself stuffing her face to avoid answering, although Angel’s exasperated look seemed to be eloquent enough.
- It wasn't enough for him to put me in the room near the bloody neon light that keeps me awake all night; he didn't even give me a bathroom - he commented, annoyed, as he lit a cigarette.
Husk stretched a hand towards the spider demon. - Got one for me? I don't feel like going upstairs -.
Angel gave him a knowing look. - And what do I get in return? -.
- Fuck you, I'll go get my own - he replied, getting up from the chair and loudly scraping it across the floor.
She sighed, taking note of how difficult it would be to try and redeem the group in front of her. None of them seemed genuinely interested for the moment, but that was probably also because they had no idea what they should do from now on, and honestly, she wasn't entirely sure either. She would have to get to work as soon as possible, starting that very morning.
- I’m going upstairs to see if Niff is finished; I don’t want Husk to use up all the water, -Angel said, standing up.
Charlie stopped him. - You can use my shower; it's not a problem for me -.
Her friend gave her a grateful smile. - Thanks! I’ll take you up on that, then -.
He disappeared from her sight, and she found herself alone in the room, her only company the ticking of the wall clock behind her and the sound of her jaws wolfing down yet another filled croissant. She was struggling to put her thoughts in order at that moment; she had so many things to organise that it seemed impossible.
I need a list, she told herself confidently, standing up ready for the day. She looked at the table, still covered with all the used cups and cutlery, and decided she should at least take them away. She grabbed as many as possible and headed towards the kitchen, pushing the swing door with her back and doing a pirouette to turn around.
She jumped when she realised she was face-to-face with Alastor, his smile as radiant as usual and perfectly ready for the day. The door swung back, hitting her, and some cups slipped from her hands. She closed her eyes, ready to hear them shatter on the floor and psychologically preparing herself for yet another blunder in less than twenty-four hours.
No sound reached her ears, and when she opened her eyes, she saw that some dark tentacles, having sprouted from the floor, had caught the cups before they could smash.
- Bonjour, Charlie - Alastor said serenely. - There’s no need for you to bother with chores; my shadows would have taken care of them shortly -.
She swallowed hard, trying not to drop anything else from her hands and forcing a smile. - G-good morning, Alastor - she murmured. - I didn’t know; I thought everyone took care of themselves -.
The demon took some dangerously balanced cutlery from her fingers to place them on the kitchen counter behind him. - But of course, chérie. It will take you a while to get used to the house's routine - he replied.
She, too, put everything on the counter and noticed that he wasn't wearing his usual red bowtie this morning, and his shirt was unbuttoned a few buttons. Practically no traces of her father's fingerprints remained, but, like the day before, she noticed some dark scars protruding on his chest that probably extended all the way across it, and she found herself blushing again. She wanted to ask him how he got them, but it really didn't seem appropriate. Alastor seemed like a very private person, and prying into his life during the first few days of cohabitation would be counterproductive; she would have a chance to hear the story in the future.
She looked away and mentally slapped her forehead, realising that she was a mess. She was still in her red pyjamas, and on her feet, she wore slippers depicting two white bunnies, complete with ears dragging on the floor; one was even missing an eye and the other its nose. She must have looked like an incapable child to him.
- So, what is your program for today? Will you need my presence? - he asked her, leaning back against the counter with the palms of his hands.
She snapped out of it, still trying not to look at the dark scars. - Um… I don’t know… I mean… I wouldn’t want to bother you -.
Alastor tilted his head. - You seem nervous, Charlie. Is something troubling you? -.
Those scars, how did you get them? Was it a demon? Did it happen when you were alive? Why didn’t I change before coming down? she formulated all those thoughts while trying to remain impassive on the outside and keep smiling, even though her cheeks hurt from the effort.
- Oh no! It’s just that I didn’t sleep very well. You know, a new bed - she laughed out loud, her voice too shrill even for her own ears.
The demon continued relentlessly with the questions. - Do you think the mattress needs changing? -.
She wanted to bury herself; how could he not understand that she felt uncomfortable with how she was dressed? She tried to take a few steps to the left to reach the door leading to the upper floors, but the Overlord seemed to follow her.
- No, absolutely not! I mean, I’ll get used to it; I’m adaptable! You know, like animals, like deer. You get it, right? -.
What. Was. I. Thinking? she internally spelled out, as the urge to headbutt the metal counter in front of her grew in her mind. If he had been closer, she would have been capable of seasoning that unfortunate remark with a friendly elbow jab.
Alastor’s crimson eyes widened as his ears pulled back and his smile tightened. - I… beg your pardon? -.
At that point, she was certain her face was hot enough to fry eggs, and her embarrassing outfit became the least of her worries. - Nothing! I'm going to change now; how about we talk later? -.
She disappeared before he could answer, running up the wooden stairs at a dizzying speed, then entering her room and closing the door behind her, sliding down against it and collapsing onto the floor.
It was absurd how she always managed to seem like a poor, brainless person incapable of formulating a coherent sentence around Alastor, not to mention that she had risked causing yet another disaster by breaking the cups.
She let her legs fall to the floor, starting to move them hysterically and hiding her face behind her hands. - Why?! Why?! -.
- Um… Charlie… you alright? -.
Angel’s voice reached her, and she found him poking his head out of the bathroom door, a rolled-up towel on his head and a bathrobe on. He was staring at her, looking bewildered and worried at the same time, and she let her head fall against the door. The count of her blunders kept increasing by the minute.
- Pretty much… I mean, no… or rather… why do I only cause trouble?! -.
Her friend sighed before closing the door behind him again. - I'll finish my shower, and we'll talk, okay? -.
Alastor was literally frozen. The princess was starting to fray his already strained nerves, tightened by Angel Dust's presence, and she even seemed to be a victim of a constant verbal diarrhoea that prevented her from constructing coherent sentences. As if that weren't enough, she continued to maintain that absurd attitude with him, and he genuinely couldn't fathom it.
He rubbed his temples, thinking back to the interaction he had just had, but he couldn't figure out where he had gone wrong. He clenched his teeth and took a deep breath; he hadn't done anything wrong at all. The problem was that she had disproportionate and, to him, unpredictable reactions, and this would be a real problem for his plans. The only positive note was that it was a chaos conducive to his final goals, and therefore he could accept it, or at least he would have to do his best to try.
He summoned his shadows to tidy up the main hall while he returned to his study to examine some financial statements. He kept turning the sheets over in his claws, but the thought of having the princess under his own roof was making him increasingly nervous by the second. He had naively thought that everything would be much simpler; instead, she continued to bury him with absurd situations he was definitely not used to.
He had always been an organised man, with a rigid routine and even stricter rules of conduct that he expected others to follow. He had created a perfect balance by including Niffty and Husk and, in some absurd way, even the spider demon he hated so much. Now that she had arrived, however, that equilibrium seemed to be severely tested, and he would have to do his best to force her into it and predict her absurdities.
He placed the papers back on the desk and let his shadow adjust his bowtie while he assessed the day's moves. He would have to give up his walk since Charlie had not yet let him know what she intended to do, and he wanted to seem available to her in case of need. This was already a problem for him; he loved those hours of solitude he set aside to walk along the streets of Pentagram City, perhaps stopping in Cannibal Town to get first-rate meat for his lunch, which he would consume either there or at his own place. Every now and then, he would stop to chat with Rosie to be filled in on the latest news, then organising the lineup for his afternoon radio show. He had already had to skip it the day before due to Charlie's interruption, and he growled at the thought of yet another last-minute change he had to make to his usual schedule.
His shadow seemed ready to leave, but he stopped it with a look. - Not today, my friend. We have a guest, and we must be ready to fulfil her requests -.
The shadow seemed to take on a resentful air, crossing its arms and disappearing behind him again. He didn't need to endure the emotional turmoil of his own shadow; neither of them was used to this new madness.
- Alastor? Are you in here? -.
She’s back already, he thought, taking a deep breath and narrowing his eyes. He rubbed his eyelids before putting his monocle back on his nose and resuming the demeanour he had always shown her.
- Do come in, chérie - he called, waiting for her to enter.
The head of blonde hair peered around the door frame. She must have tidied up, as she was no longer wearing that horrible pyjamas and those hideous slippers. She was dressed in a bright red pantsuit with a black bowtie and a white shirt, and he found himself wondering if she had chosen that type of clothing as a sort of pale imitation of his own. It was highly unlikely, however, given the confident way she moved, which she had recovered; it must be something she wore often, long before their meeting, and that made her feel comfortable.
She seemed more relaxed, and he invited her with a gracious hand gesture to take a seat in front of him.
The princess sat down, smoothing the folds of her jacket and then looking at the papers on his desk. - If you're dealing with accounts, I don't want to take up your time; we can meet later -.
He barely managed to suppress the twitch in his eye. Not only had she made him give up his walk, but now she was trying to interfere with his afternoon as well. He had to set boundaries for this situation to prevent her from ruining his established, regenerative routine before the evening work.
He leaned back further in his chair before speaking. - Don't worry, these are things that can wait. I have taken a break from my morning commitments to help you -.
Good, that way he had planted the idea in her ear; now he just had to hope she was sharp enough to grasp it.
Predictably, her eyes widened. - You don't have to change your habits for me! I don't have much to do right now except think about the next steps, so we can organize ourselves based on what you need to do until we decide how to proceed! -.
- Charlie, I am quite happy to change my agenda to support you - he lied so well that he surprised himself.
She shrugged her hands and shook her head. - I insist, Alastor, you've already been patient and kind enough - she began, pulling out a vibrant peach-coloured agenda with stickers of horrible smiley faces stuck everywhere. - I've prepared a hypothetical to-do list, but tell me how you're usually organised so we can discuss it -.
Organised; she’s starting to gain points, he thought, as the left corner of his mouth stretched further. - If you really insist, but I want to clarify first that I will be happy to modify it if it is more suitable for you -.
The princess only stretched one corner of her mouth. - Go on - she said cheerfully, clicking her pen to prepare to take notes.
- I usually take a couple of hours for a walk in the morning, but yesterday, for example, I postponed it to the afternoon to wait for you, as you may have noticed - he was keen to specify that point, and in doing so, he also subtly wanted to communicate that he had awaited her arrival to instil in her mind that he, at least apparently, cared about her feedback.
Charlie vibrated in her chair and looked up from the agenda. - Thank you! - she exclaimed with a slightly shaky tone. - Anyway, that's fine. Do you have specific times when you wake up? So I can mark a hypothetical off-limits slot -.
Adorable, he thought, satisfied. - I am particularly an early riser, but let's say you can consider the hours from nine to eleven as occupied - he replied, adjusting the monocle over his eye. - Lunchtime here is free for everyone, but I usually stop out or come back to prepare it myself. I am usually free until four, and I set aside an hour for my show, or two in case of particular news -.
She continued to write, holding her tongue between her teeth. - Radio show from four - she murmured, then looked up at him. - Speaking of the show, do you think we could perhaps sponsor my initiative? It's one of the points I was going to ask you about shortly - she continued, turning the agenda and showing him the endless list she had jotted down.
He found himself widening his eyes as his saliva got caught in his throat. He had foolishly hoped that the three souls he had procured for her would suffice, but he was aware that a request like that might come, despite hoping with every fibre of his being that she wouldn't make such demands. To his misfortune, the princess was more astute than he had initially thought, and so he would have to recalibrate his approach. Telling her a blunt no could strain the relationship he was beginning to build; therefore, he would have to opt for a more diplomatic route.
He cleared his throat before speaking. - Certainly, but I think it's more important first to structure a clear strategy and know what will be required of us, so that we are perfectly ready for any eventuality -.
Charlie nodded, convinced. - Right, you're right! - she exclaimed, picking up the agenda again. - The establishment opens at eight, right? -.
He replied with a nod of his head. - I usually do a general check with Husker and Niffty around seven just to make sure everything is in order -.
- You're a precise person - she commented in an undertone. - But better that way; we need to think clearly about all the challenges that will arise -.
He watched her write frantically, holding the agenda on her lap and her eyes concentrated, then opening a highlighter with her teeth and beginning to underline some things precisely. She looked like a student taking notes during a lecture, and he found himself observing her, intrigued; after the recent events, he certainly wouldn't have expected such attention from her. She continued to be a constant surprise, and this was a clear warning sign; he would have to do his best to bring her under his control. Initially, he had judged her as a naïve girl, but this new attitude revealed a sharper mind than he thought, although certainly not comparable to his own.
- Good - she announced, satisfied. - I'd say now all we have to do is start organising everyone else -.
Alastor nodded, standing up; perhaps he would still manage to get an hour of fresh air before the afternoon if they were already done. - I believe that in this field, you are the expert, chérie. However, I will be delighted to see you this afternoon to discuss it further -.
She raised her thumb. - Two to four. Noted everything; I'll be ready -.
He picked up his coat and put it on, letting her exit his study door first and following her closely. He noted with disappointment, however, that she was leaving with him and heading towards the establishment's front door.
- Are you going out too? Thinking of a walk to clear your head? - he asked, trying not to let her notice how much the matter was irritating him.
She nodded again as she left the agenda under the counter along with the pen and highlighter. In a spot where no one should leave anything! The eye twitch threatened to become overwhelming, and he rubbed it to try not to let the princess notice, who, in the meantime, was heading for the exit with a cheerful and sunny demeanour.
- We can walk part of the way together and maybe talk some more; I wanted to stop by a bookstore - she replied.
Damn it, still underfoot, he thought, annoyed, but widening his smile and following her outside. Unfortunately for him, the route he usually took was right on the way to one of the city's many bookstores, and he didn't want to change his route just because of that unforeseen event; it would look suspicious if she happened to run into him shortly after.
- Excellent idea - he commented, holding the door for her to exit.
The streets were still strangely empty, and he watched her observe the surrounding activity as if searching for something, and he wondered at length what she was looking for at that moment, but all his doubts quickly dissipated.
- Sugar Hell - she whispered, looking at the nearby bakery. - Is that the one that sends you sweets every day? -.
That damned whiny pest, he thought, deeming it obvious that Angel Dust was the one who had informed her of that unpleasant situation. The owner had been tormenting him for months, and he let her because it prevented Niffty and Husk from emptying the cellar, at least in the morning. It was a compromise he could accept, considering the demoness in question didn't seem to grasp the simple concept of no.
He nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. - Camille opened recently, and for the sake of good neighbourliness, it would seem rude to me to refuse her gifts every time -.
Charlie began biting her index fingernail as she grew thoughtful. - But maybe you could offer her a coffee, or what do I know, invite her to the establishment and buy her dinner to return the favour -.
He nearly froze in the middle of the street at that comment about his private life. The fact that he hadn't yet torn the bakery owner to shreds for her persistence already seemed like a magnanimous enough gesture; what she was asking was absurd and inconceivable! Would he have to endure that unbearable being for hours? Absolutely not!
- I wouldn't want to fuel false hopes- he replied evasively, quickening his pace, hoping to reach the bookstore as quickly as possible.
The princess seemed to struggle to keep up with him and he saw her almost breaking into a run to catch up. - But you can also offer dinner to a friend; you did it with me -.
Because I need you, I don't need her! he replied mentally, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. - I will consider that option - he whispered, trying to suppress his irritated tone.
- Maybe we could also propose our project to her; she might be happy to participate -.
This time, he couldn't restrain the static sound that escaped his mouth, as well as the resulting cough. She was becoming far too pressing about this matter and was far too astute for his liking. She was rightly thinking of making him exploit his influence over Camille to involve her in her half-baked redemption plan and gain more participants. Rather than having her in his house, however, he would let hot needles be driven into his eyes! They would be less annoying than that sickly-sweet and faint-hearted baker.
- I repeat, the idea of giving false hopes does not appeal to me. It wouldn't be a nice thing towards poor Camille - he tried again, resuming his walk as if nothing had happened.
He heard her scoff. - It could be the start of a beautiful friendship! What makes you think you just need to get to know her better? -.
At that point, the eye twitch had become uncontrollable, and even his shadow seemed to mock him. - The fact that we've been neighbours for six months, and it has never seemed like a good idea -.
That response had been excessive, but the conversation was becoming decidedly unnerving, and he wanted to end it as quickly as possible. He hoped that sharp refusal would put a stop to any attempt by the princess, but she was more tenacious than he would have expected.
She sped up her pace even more and stared into his eyes as they continued to walk. - Before you met me, maybe you didn't think we could become partners and friends; the same thing could happen with Camille -.
He took a deep breath while narrowing his eyes. She had no idea how much time he had spent observing her from afar whenever he had the chance. He always purposely extended his route to pass in front of the royal residences, and that fateful morning, he had seen her running breathlessly and had deliberately placed himself in her path when she was far enough from home not to arouse suspicion. She had done the rest with her clumsiness by running into him, giving him the perfect opportunity. The princess couldn't even remotely imagine how maniacally calculated every little thing was for him, and it was better that way; he preferred her to regard him in that manner. The only pleasant "coincidence" that day had been the fact that she gave him a way to slip the ticket in so specifically; otherwise, almost everything had already been calculated. He only realised at that moment how much luck he had genuinely had, considering how absurd Charlie's habits actually were. They were an intricate design, difficult to unravel, but he was convinced he was experienced enough to bring order to it.
Fortunately for him, they arrived in front of the bookstore, and he returned to a cheerful smile. - I will give it some thought, chérie. I believe you have arrived at your destination now - he said, gesturing towards the shop.
The princess seemed to snap out of it and put on a saddened expression. - Oh, thank you - she murmured.
Damn it, he thought, annoyed, realising he was already letting things slip through his fingers. He shouldn't let her think he was being rude or uncommitted to her ideas in any way.
He blocked her path with his arm, smiling at her as warmly as possible. - Charlie, don't think I won't take your opinion into consideration - he began in a warm tone. - I believe strongly in our project, but precisely for that reason, I think we should carefully evaluate who joins it; I wouldn't want Camille to participate, driven by an ulterior motive, and ruin everything -.
The princess looked elsewhere, but her expression seemed to brighten. - You have a point... I wouldn't want her to cause you problems -.
He had managed to quickly recover the lost ground; now it was time to finish the job. - I want to show you that I truly care about the success of our new venture, which is why I am so attentive to even the smallest details like this - he said, observing her every subtle change in expression. - After all, you are the first who hasn't believed the horrible rumours about me offhand -.
Her eyes widened, and at that point, he knew he had hit the mark. - Well... you are the first one who has believed in my idea enough to offer to help me - she replied with a sweet smile.
He was surprised to have been able to recover so quickly from his slight oversight, and he didn't have to fake the serene look he gave her. - I will see you later. I look forward to hearing how you plan to proceed -.
With those words, he turned his back on her and resumed his walk, while his shadow smiled maliciously in front of him.
Charlie had gone through the entire bookstore Alastor had pointed out but hadn't found anything suitable for her purpose, so she had visited three others in an attempt to find something useful. The manager of the last one was a bored-looking snail demon who was reading a comic book and barely noticed her when she entered. The shop was practically empty, and the shelves were covered in dust; probably few customers passed through. Not that she was surprised; it was perhaps the only bookstore not to have a pornographic magazine poster in the window and thus likely attracted fewer clients.
The shelves were filled more with old, dusty magazines than books, and she walked around them searching for something that could help her, though even she wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for.
She decided to ask the owner for advice and approached him timidly. The demon had a dull black shell and greyish skin. He was clearly losing his slime everywhere, as even from a distance, the thick watery layer on the counter was visible, and she suppressed the gag reflex that sight caused.
- Good morning - she tried to greet him, raising her hand.
He didn't even lift the antennae on which his eyes were positioned from what he was reading. - The porn is sold out, but we have some copies of Fifty Succubus Chokeholds left - he replied carelessly, turning the page of the comic.
She visibly blushed. - Oh no, I wasn't looking for that kind of reading - she tried to say.
He lifted a single antenna to look at her. - We don't sell romance novels -.
She blinked a few times before having the strength to speak again. - I'm looking for something about personal growth, something for spiritual elevation -.
- We have the living and dead biography of Charles Manson if you're interested. That acid-fueled hippie believed in that crap -.
She rubbed her temples with her index fingers, trying not to explode. - Thank you, but I wanted something that encourages something other than murder - she whispered in a high voice.
Finally, the owner decided to put down the comic he was reading and looked her over inquisitively. - You mean that 'beautiful inside and out' self-improvement nonsense? -.
At this point, she was exasperated and nodded to avoid yelling at him, hoping that in whatever section the guy meant, she would find something useful. - Yes, those are fine too -.
- Upstairs, in the fantasy section - he replied, then went back to reading.
She dragged herself up the stairs, heartbroken by that answer. No one seemed to believe in the possibility of self-improvement to the point that any book on the matter was relegated to the fiction section. If possible, that floor was even dustier and more battered than the one below, and she sneezed several times because of the dust, stirring up more and triggering a chain reaction. Each sneeze corresponded to a new cloud, and consequently, she soon found herself with teary eyes and a red nose from the irritation.
She pulled out a tissue to blow her dripping nose and decided to take courage and look at the various titles before her eyes. Besides actual fantasy books, the section was teeming with titles like Screaming Abs in Ten Centuries or Marble Glutes: Satan's Workout Guide. If that was the only improvement the damned could aspire to, she didn't doubt that Hell was literally going to the dogs.
After half an hour of searching among shelves and boxes and risking suffocation several times due to the dust bunnies that followed her everywhere, she managed to find something vaguely useful. They were books about corporate team-building, but they were better than nothing. She even managed to find one whose title was Guided Meditation: The Best Way to Awaken My Inner Self, although the cover image was vaguely pornographic as the demoness was doing a sun salutation in a bikini.
She took at least six books and carried them downstairs, and she nearly fainted when she realised the snail demon's slimy hands would have to touch them. She watched with anguish as the covers were made glossy by the slime being shed everywhere, and when he handed her the plastic bag he had slipped them into, she had to rely on all her self-control to avoid emitting a choked scream of disgust.
She left the bookstore and checked the time; in all her frantic running around, it was nearing lunchtime, and she headed for the Scarlet Wave.
She took out her cell phone and checked her messages. Vaggie had texted her the night before, but she hadn't even managed to read the message, and she had also received a couple of calls from her father. However, she wasn't ready for that new confrontation yet; she wanted to keep her mind clear and free to organise the redemption activities, and once that was done, she promised herself she would contact them. There was no point in denying it to herself: she missed them terribly. Knowing that she had slept that night without them just a few rooms away had been incredibly difficult, and more than once she had nearly given in to the urge to call them to at least hear their voices. Each time, however, the argument they had had the day before came back to her, and she pushed the desire away to keep it from suffocating her. She felt guilty about how things had turned out, but at the same time, she felt the need to stand her ground with them.
Alastor was proving to be kinder than expected; even that morning when she was insistent about Camille, he hadn't dismissed it as madness; he had only rightly pointed out that it could be counterproductive to invite a demon whose primary interest was seducing the Radio Demon. She really couldn't imagine anyone so insane as to try an approach with someone like him, especially given the way he shunned physical contact. It was clear to anyone who met him that he wasn't the type to indulge in such things, much less for someone who had theoretically known him for six months. She found herself wondering what Camille might look like, but she pushed back the urge to go into the bakery on some excuse.
She still didn't completely trust the Overlord, but he had certainly managed to earn her respect. She knew she had to keep her guard up, but he continued to be so accommodating that she almost felt guilty for those thoughts about him. Not to mention that, against all odds, he hadn't retaliated against her father's attack, and the stories about him described him as a demon always ready to respond to an offense. Perhaps the main problem was that no one had ever really bothered to get to know him as she was doing these days. Those dark scars that had unsettled her came back to mind, and she wondered if he would open up enough to tell her what had happened to him sooner or later.
She turned the corner leading to the establishment and froze, quickly hiding, flattening herself against the wall of the parallel street. She was almost completely certain she had seen her father's white top hat.
She cautiously peered past the wall and was certain that Lucifer was standing in front of the establishment's door, talking to Husk. The latter looked quite agitated, and her father continued relentlessly to ask questions on the doorstep, although she couldn't make out what they were talking about from that distance.
- Someone you don't want to meet? -.
Alastor's voice startled her, and she found herself trembling to the point that the bag of books fell from her hands. - Oh, shit! - she yelled, breathless, finding him practically a handspan from her nose.
The Radio Demon looked at her, perplexed. - If it's someone causing you trouble, I will personally deal with them - he said seriously, pointing to his chest with one hand.
She was panicking; she couldn't let those two meets again; they would risk coming to blows, and she couldn't allow it. Before the Overlord could take a step down the street, she grabbed him by the lapel of his jacket and pulled him back, even risking making him fall, and he almost glared at her.
She immediately let go of his coat, trying to remain as calm as possible. - It's my dad - she said, breathlessly. - But right now, I'd rather avoid any arguments -.
Alastor's eyes seemed to glow for an instant before returning to their calm and cheerful look. - There's nothing for you to worry about, Charlie. I have no intention of making things difficult for you - he burst out calmly, offering her his arm. - We will calmly explain the situation to the King; I am sure he will be more accommodating than last time -.
I seriously doubt that, she thought, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat with difficulty and retrieving the bag of books from the ground. She only noticed then that he kept his arm bent in her direction, as if he were waiting for her to take it.
She looked first at his hand and then at him, perplexed. - I don't think that's a good idea; he'll already be furious as it is -.
Alastor lowered his arm and stopped smiling. - Oh, really? It seemed like a way to let him know I have no ill intentions -.
She hardly believed those words; on the contrary, she was convinced he wanted to do it to annoy Lucifer even more, and she looked at him ironically. - Don't pretend not to understand; it doesn't suit you -.
The Radio Demon seemed taken aback by her response, and for a moment, his eyes widened, but he almost immediately regained his usual smile. - You're right; nothing can be hidden from you. I admit I would have appreciated a small payback for the unpleasant situation he involved me in -.
She sighed, glancing into the alley again. Her father was still standing there, even though Husk had gone back inside; he probably told him she was out and didn't know when she'd be back, and he had decided to wait for her. He stood stiffly on the threshold, but he looked worried and tired, and her heart clenched at the sight of him like that, and she felt like a horrible daughter.
Alastor waited next to her, tapping his fingers rhythmically on his microphone-shaped cane. - I wouldn't want to seem rude, but do we have to stay here much longer? I would like to go back in for lunch - he commented without looking at her.
Charlie leaned her head against the wall and took a deep breath. - Running away won't help anything; I have to at least try to talk to him -.
The Radio Demon turned toward her, also leaning his back against the wall. - If you deem my presence necessary, I will be delighted to accompany you -.
She gave him a grateful smile, as perhaps it would be best for those two to clear things up once and for all. Maybe if her father saw Alastor in the same light he showed her, he would be more magnanimous.
They both emerged from their hiding place and headed towards the establishment's entrance. With every step, Charlie felt her heart hammering harder in her temples, and her mouth went dry. Lucifer still hadn't noticed them, and for a moment, her instinct begged her to turn around and run.
She involuntarily slowed her pace, but a light touch on her back startled her. Alastor had just brushed her with what must have been some kind of encouraging pat for him, and he had turned to her to smile, but not the usual smile he seemed to have plastered on his face. It looked terribly sweet, as if he wanted to transmit his own calm to her with the sheer force of his gaze. That contact lasted less than a fraction of a second, but it was enough to spur her to be more resolute, and she focused her gaze on her father.
Lucifer seemed to feel her eyes on him and turned in her direction. Initially, he gave her a happy look, but it was quickly replaced by an irritated one as soon as he noticed the Overlord walking beside her with a straight back and a confident, proud look.
- Hi, dad - she squeaked when they were close enough, squeezing the plastic bag with both hands to try and vent her anxiety on the handles.
The Seraphim looked away from Alastor and stared at her happily. - Charlie, I'm glad to see you're okay! -.
Before she could answer, the Radio Demon spoke. - But of course, Your Majesty. I would never allow anything to happen to her -.
Charlie held her breath, realising that less than two seconds after they met, they were already starting an argument. Alastor hadn't said anything wrong; she had to give him credit for that, but at the same time, she knew how jealous and protective her father could be, and the fact that the Overlord had presented himself as some kind of new guardian had visibly irritated him.
The Seraphim narrowed his eyes, pointing them at his rival. - No one asked you. Don't you have tables to wipe? -.
- Dad! - Charlie rebuked him.
Alastor let out a chuckle while playing with his cane. - I'm happy that you care about my commitments as much as your daughter does. Just today, we were talking about how to organise our days to have time to discuss our common project -.
Charlie didn't know what to do at that moment. Absurdly, she couldn't say anything to the Radio Demon, who was, on the surface, behaving courteously, although that passive-aggressive tone he was using didn't escape her. However, she couldn't blame him; the last time, Lucifer had tried to strangle him.
An irritated gurgle rose in the king’s throat, but he seemed to regain his composure and turned to his daughter. - Can we talk in private? -.
She didn't even know why, but she found herself turning towards Alastor as if asking for his permission. A move that didn't escape the king, who gripped his cane tighter as if about to break it.
Alastor gave her an even wider smile than the previous ones, placing a hand on her shoulder in a friendly manner. - Chérie, if you deem it necessary, you could go to Camille's bakery on my behalf, a way to repay her courtesy by sending her some customers. Do you think that is a fitting way to repay her kindness? -.
Lucifer's face was now a mask filled with irritation, and his eyes were starting to take on vermillion shades, and she felt caught between a rock and a hard place. She really wished those two would smooth out that absurd rivalry in its infancy and, at the same time, find a way to talk to her father about what she wanted and how they planned to take the next steps.
She looked at her father and then at Alastor more than once before replying. - Listen, what do you say if all three of us go? I think it's time to resolve this situation once and for all -.
The two seemed to freeze at her proposal, and for a millisecond, Alastor's grip on her shoulder became more intense, as if he had been caught off guard.
- I wouldn't want to be in the way - the demon murmured, as if he had suddenly become less confident.
She gave him a serious look. - We're partners in this, right? We'll definitely discuss it better together, and that way you'll show Camille that you also appreciate what she does -.
- Who is Camille? His girlfriend? - Lucifer asked, who, in the meantime, had his arms crossed over his chest and seemed very amused by the demon's discomfort.
Alastor's gaze narrowed, focusing on the Seraphim's. - No, I would call her a neighbour -.
Charlie was the first to start walking, motioning for the other two to follow her. - Come on, let's go - she began, then looked at Alastor. - I know you don't like sweets, but I'm sure we'll find something to your taste -.
The only thing to his taste in that place would have been Camille's head served on a plate with some potatoes and a good glass of full-bodied red wine.
They were seated at one of the inside tables; he had no intention of risking being seen by anyone sitting and chatting with Lucifer and his daughter as if it were some sugary, boring family gathering. If that wasn't bad enough, the tacky decor and the smell of the place were giving him hives. Everywhere he looked was a riot of pink, baby blue, and endless streams of sickeningly sweet desserts that could rot your teeth just by looking at them.
He lowered his gaze to the white table, realizing even the tablecloth was pink and patterned with hideous hearts, as if they were in the house of a ten-year-old girl with her first crush. In the middle of the table, a centrepiece of roses at least blocked his view of the miniature king opposite him. To his left sat Charlie, examining the menu with interest.
- Aren't you getting anything? - she asked.
He tried with all his might to suppress the rage that was mounting with every passing second over this absurd situation. - No, chérie, sadly nothing meets my taste -.
The princess leaned toward him, pointing to one of the dishes. - Well, crêpes aren't necessarily sweet; we could ask her to make it savoury for you -.
Or I could ask her to cook you and your father in a pan with onions, he thought, shaking his head and maintaining his smile as best he could. - I thank you for your thoughtfulness, but I will wait until I'm home. I shall have a coffee, black -.
How on earth had he been convinced? His plan had backfired. He had intended to quash the princess's attempts regarding the bakery owner by sending her there with her father, making him appear not only as a person mindful of others' businesses but also as one who valued his personal space enough to step aside. In an absolutely absurd and unpredictable way, she had flipped the situation, forcing him to participate in this charade, and he found himself having to scrutinize every single response to avoid being defeated. Moreover, he had to keep an eye on that annoying, squirrel-like demon who kept shooting him suggestive glances from the counter. He couldn't tell her to go to hell in front of Charlie; he'd lose credibility. He had to be polite and endure those annoying antics without batting an eye.
Camille arrived at the table, her amber, fluffy tail swaying behind her, and stood next to him. - Finally, you show your face, Alastor. I thought I'd never have the pleasure - she commented.
He clenched his jaw and tried to respond courteously. - I thought I'd bring my new friends to your establishment; unlike me, they appreciate sweets - he replied, looking at Charlie.
The demon seemed annoyed at the sight of the princess. - Mmh, I see - she commented flatly. - What can I get for you all? - she asked, pulling her order pad from the white apron she wore.
The king’s white top hat jutted further over the floral centrepiece. - A slice of Black Forest cake for me -.
Charlie nibbled her nail before speaking, giving the demoness a smile. - Can you do a savoury filling for the crêpe? -.
Camille looked irritated. - This is a bakery - she muttered. - Anyway, if you insist, I can put some mushrooms in it; I might have some -.
- Deal! - she exclaimed cheerfully, passing her the menu.
- And for you, sweetie? -.
He barely suppressed the shudder that being called that gave him, pulling his ears back. - A black coffee, thank you -.
She put a hand to her mouth, laughing shrilly and annoyingly. - Allow me to have you try something; you can't know if you don't like something until you've tasted it - she uttered with an odd tone, as if implying something that completely eluded him.
Only the visible flush on Charlie's cheeks gave him a clear clue about what had just happened. That accursed woman was referring to something else, not the food, and the urge to bite her head off grew even stronger, an irritated growl rising in his throat. Fortunately, Camille disappeared from his sight, or he truly would have risked tearing her to shreds at any moment.
Lucifer's hands reached across the centrepiece, pushing it apart, and his red eyes suddenly popped out. - And by the way, we are not friends -.
- Dad, please - Charlie interjected, taking the centrepiece and moving it aside so it wasn't in the way. - We're here to try and resolve the situation -.
Alastor found his first chance to play his cards. - Charlie, you mustn't worry; for me, all is forgotten. I perfectly understand a father's concerns, so I bear him no grudge for what happened -.
The princess seemed reassured by the comment, but her father let out an irritated huff, crossing his arms over his chest and crossing his legs. - Please, I barely touched you -.
He stretched his hand toward him as a sign of peace, having already calculated that he certainly wouldn't reciprocate. - Can we consider all forgotten and start over? -.
As he had predicted, the Seraphim recoiled and rudely pushed his hand away. - I don't trust you; you're just another damned soul trying to climb the ladder. I've seen plenty like you over the centuries! -.
Oh, I don't think so, Your Majesty, he thought, widening his grin. He was distinctly different from the other damned, even if he had paid a hefty price to become what he was. He dismissed the thought; this wasn't the time to dwell on anything else. He had to remain clear-headed and exploit this situation, however irritating he found it.
Charlie gave her father a severe look. - Please, dad, I really want to continue this project, and I will do it with or without your support -.
Everything was going better than his plans. The princess was inadvertently siding with him, increasing her father's irritation and allowing him to highlight how much calmer, more composed, and more inclined to help he was. He even relaxed into the armchair to better enjoy the scene.
- Sweetheart, I want you to come home - the king began, taking off his hideous top hat. - Vaggie and I are really worried about you, and we want to try our best to support you from now on -.
It was time to throw out another lure. - We would be delighted to have you both participate with us; after all, you are Charlie's family, and I would never dream of replacing your presence -.
Once again, the Seraphim's reaction was what he expected. - Why are you still talking? It's obvious you're trying to get something from Charlie, even if it's not clear to me yet what! But rest assured, she will never give you her soul; I've trained her well -.
The princess sighed. - Alastor is truly trying to help me; he even found three souls for our project and offered to host them in his establishment! That doesn't seem like the attitude of someone with an ulterior motive, considering he's even losing money hosting us for free -.
Something in Charlie's tone was strained, and he noticed by the way her eyes darted that she wasn't saying everything. She probably still wasn't completely sure she could trust him. Not that he expected anything different; after all, she wasn't as stupid as he had first thought, but this made the situation even more intriguing. It would certainly be satisfying to see her finally capitulate.
He was sure she respected him, but there was an abyss between that and blindly trusting him, and it was up to him to bridge it with the right moves. Perhaps he shouldn't be so displeased to be in this place; it was just another way to look good in her eyes.
The conversation was interrupted by Camille's arrival, and he did his best not to look at her; he had no intention of receiving another knowing look from the demon. It was already unnerving not to be able to tell her to go to hell.
He noticed Charlie dividing her meal in half, but he attributed that gesture to wanting it to cool down, and he turned back to both of them. - Your Majesty, I assure you there are no ulterior motives. As I said before, both you and Charlie's dear friend are welcome to come whenever you like -.
- You don't understand, she's not staying with you - Lucifer hissed, though his threat was made ridiculous by the chocolate smudge at the corner of his mouth.
Charlie swallowed her mouthful before speaking. - I'm sorry to tell you, but I'm not coming home -.
The Seraphim froze and slowly turned toward his daughter. - W-what? -.
The princess wiped her mouth before continuing to speak. - Right now, I think I need to learn to stand on my own two feet, and I need to be in contact with the souls I intend to redeem, and I couldn't do that if I went back -.
The king leaned toward her, taking her hands. - Sweetheart, I've already told you they can come to us -.
At that moment, there was no need for him to intervene; he could see the hesitation in Charlie's eyes at the proposal. The crack he had opened between them had done its job, and all that was left for him was to watch it widen, giving it only a slight push if necessary.
- I love you, dad, but right now I think a little time apart would be good for us - she murmured, lowering her gaze to the tabletop. - I'm over two hundred years old; sooner or later, I would have had to learn to live on my own anyway -.
Lucifer swallowed his saliva with difficulty, and he relished every single gulp of the king, hiding his smile behind the steaming coffee cup. - Then allow me to send you somewhere else, to a house of your own where you can organize whatever you want -.
This was his moment; he could deliver the final blow. - Your Majesty, I am truly happy to host her for as long as she deems appropriate. It causes me no disturbance, and of course, you will always be welcome -.
The king finally lost his temper, and horns began to grow on his head. - Shut that fucking mouth and stop interfering! -.
It only took him to feign a minimal amount of concern at that violent response to stir the sweet, fragile heart of the princess, who stood up and stepped between them. Now that her back was to him and she couldn't see him, he couldn't restrain the satisfaction painting itself across his face. It was done.
- Enough! - she snapped. - I think we have nothing more to say to each other! You had a chance to show me you understood and believed in me, but you preferred to start a fight with him! -.
Lucifer seemed to falter for a second and returned to his classic appearance, his eyes wide. - Charlie, I'm sorry - he whispered. - It's just that I'm seriously worried. Try to see it from my point of view -.
She shook her head. - I have, and I'm truly grateful for what you've done so far, but it's time for me to make my own choices and pay the consequences if necessary. I can't keep living in a glass dome; you have to let me go -.
Touching, he commented to himself, resuming his coffee. He had to admit he hadn't expected this annoying situation to be so amusing, and he found himself thanking Charlie for forcing him to participate.
The Seraphim, probably to avoid yet another humiliation in front of him, put his top hat back on and stood up. - Very well, sweetheart - he commented flatly. - Just know that... I'll always be there if you need me -.
- I know, dad, thank you - she whispered, while her still-turned body seemed to be struck by an electric current.
The Seraphim bid farewell with a nod, and the princess sat back down, and Alastor watched her carefully. Her crimson eyes were lost in space, and she stared at the remaining half of the crêpe on her plate without truly seeing it. That discussion must have particularly worn her out, but the fact that she was so vulnerable gave him the chance to be in the right place at the right time again.
What delicious and fortuitous coincidences, he thought ironically, shifting his armchair closer to her and lowering his head to try and catch her gaze. - Chérie, are you alright? -.
The princess seemed to snap out of it and turned to him with a serious look. - I know you were doing all that flirting just to irritate him -.
He barely suppressed the hitch in his breath. - Charlie, I truly meant what I said - he replied, trying to sound as sincere as possible; he had to dispel that thought from her mind quickly. - I am so convinced you will succeed that... I want to participate in your redemption project myself -.
His shadow beneath his feet seemed to freeze, and the luminous smile it constantly wore suddenly vanished. He had to make a grand gesture to dispel Charlie's doubts, but it was necessary for his ends. He knew that this lie would have heavy repercussions on his habits, but he was ready for anything to get what he wanted. At this point, he had to play every card in his possession in the best possible way.
Charlie's eyes widened, and from the movements of her jaw, it was evident she was trying to hold back. - You? You would try to be redeemed by me? -.
He wanted to reply that she wouldn't succeed in a thousand centuries, but he put a hand to his heart and narrowed his eyelids. - If you convinced me to join your project by talking to me when you weren't at your best, I'm sure you'll be able to do this too. After all, we're partners and... friends? -.
How much he hated having to be so sickeningly sweet, but he understood that this was the kind of thing that struck the right chords in the princess's soul, and so he had to exploit it to his advantage.
The princess's eyes began to sparkle, and he found himself staring, completely taken aback by her emotional reaction. - Alastor... thank you - she murmured, her voice trembling.
He leaned back, resting against the backrest and clasping his hands in his lap. - Thank you for giving me your trust -.
Charlie bit her lower lip and smiled, embarrassed. - We'll work on that - she replied with a laugh, then passed him the plate. - Here, the other half is for you -.
He found himself staring at the plate, looking bewildered. - For... me? -.
She nodded. - I felt bad about delaying your lunch, so I thought I'd order it, even though I wanted something sweet. At least you can try it, and maybe you'll like it -.
What was that strange sensation he was feeling in his stomach? Nausea? Acid reflux? There was something moving in his insides, and he couldn't quite name it. This selfless gesture was odd to him, utterly absurd and out of place. He had been clear; he didn't want to eat anything and planned to make his own meal once he returned to the establishment. Yet, she had denied herself something not to mess up his schedule, and that simple, absurd consideration had stunned him. If it had been anyone else, he would have shoved the plate away and left, but he forced himself to thank her for the courteous gesture and began to eat.
Whatever that sensation had been that had stirred his gut, it ended the exact moment he began to eat, and the princess started listing some ideas she'd had that morning.
He was probably just hungry.
Notes:
Good morning!
Alastor is starting to realize that Charlie isn't as naïve as he first thought, and he has to recalibrate his moves, even offering himself as a fourth soul ready for redemption just to convince the princess to trust his "good intentions." Well, what won't one do to get what one wants u.u
Charlie, quite rightly, continues to have reservations about the Radio Demon, but in any case, she's intrigued by this character so full of charm and can't stop feeling admiration for him. The icing on the cake is that Lucifer ends up pushing her even further towards Alastor, despite the fact that he only wants to protect her T_TThe cohabitation is getting complicated, and who knows what trials Heaven will put them through!
As always, I thank you all for the reads and for the reviews <3
See you soonnn!
Chapter Text
A new morning was waiting for her, and this time she was more prepared than the last. After lunch at Camille's, she had planned to read some of the books she had picked up in the afternoon, and she was full of notes. Unfortunately, the book with the demon in a bikini had turned out to be a kind of guide to autoeroticism, so all she could document herself with were the team-building books. Everyone agreed on one thing: cooperation and successful teamwork were based on trust between the team members, and this was built through a skilful knowledge of the members involved. Besides, Heaven wanted information on who would take part in her redemption initiative, so it was a good starting point. She had spent the afternoon and evening preparing questionnaires for everyone to fill out, so she could study them in private afterwards. It was only while she was compiling them that she realised she had never asked Angel anything about his earthly life and that he had always seemed very reserved about it. It would be an excellent opportunity to strengthen their friendship, and this brought a genuine smile to her lips.
She had differentiated the questionnaires with stickers to help her remember everyone, but it was only as she put the papers away that she realized she hadn't assigned one for Alastor. In truth, she had been completely taken aback by his willingness to take part in the redemption; she would never have expected it. The Overlord seemed interested in joining the new initiative as a partner, but she hadn't thought he would ever believe in it that much. She sat back down on the bed, looking at the questionnaire and then at the stickers lying next to her. She had assigned a star to Angel because he was a star, a glass to Husk because he was the bartender, and a chef's hat to Niffty, but what could she give Alastor? There were no stickers that represented his current occupation, nor one that represented his personality. It was only then that she noticed the sticker of a deer with heart-shaped eyes, but she immediately dismissed the idea; the embarrassment of the previous day had been enough. In the end, she chose a musical note, after all, he was still the Radio Demon and a radio host.
She checked one last time that she was presentable before heading out with the papers clutched in her hands and made her way downstairs. The discussion with her father the day before had taken a toll on her, but now she was determined. She wanted to succeed in this endeavour far from him, to prove to him that she could do it even without his help. If she wanted him to finally consider her an adult, relying on him would be counterproductive, and besides, she had been lucky enough to be supported by Alastor with a place to organise her plans, so she was sure she would be able to sort it out somehow.
She had also opened Vaggie's message, and her heart had clenched; it just read "I miss you," and she had almost burst into tears. She missed her terribly too, and just wanted to have her with her right now and be able to show her how hard she was trying, to feel her close. She hadn't had the courage to reply; in fact, she had even deleted it to spare herself the pain of dwelling on it too much.
She entered the room and found everyone staring at the breakfast table with puzzled expressions. Alastor was missing, but he was probably either in his study or had gone on his morning stroll early.
- Good morning! - she exclaimed, walking towards them. - What's going on? -.
Angel turned to her, looking perplexed. - We were wondering why instead of pastries this morning, we found this stack of mushroom crepes - the star commented, pointing at the table.
Charlie froze; in front of her was enough food to feed an army. She hadn't expected Camille to change her menu so quickly just for Alastor, and she didn't even want to imagine the irritation this had caused the Radio Demon. The day before, his annoyance with every single approach had been obvious, and for this reason, she had decided she would never again force him to go to the pastry shop.
Niffty grabbed a note that must have fallen when the Radio Demon had let his shadows take care of setting everything up. - 'So you don't have to share it with anyone. Camille’ - the demoness read, her eye narrowing. - What do you think that means? -.
She felt her face flush; the owner probably thought she was hitting on Alastor when she offered him her crepe, but she simply wanted to be nice. Furthermore, how had she failed to realize again that he wasn't interested at all? She was starting to understand his annoyance with the whole affair.
Husk sighed as he sat down. - Nothing good for us, from now on this will be breakfast -.
Angel sat down as well, observing everything with disgust. - I hate savoury in the morning, it ruins my day -.
- If you want, I can make something - Charlie offered, even though she was sorry to waste all that food, but she felt guilty for having ruined everyone's breakfast.
The bartender and the star turned to her with terror in their eyes and shouted in unison. - No! -.
She jumped at the sudden response and almost dropped the papers she was holding against her chest. - I swear I won't burn anything again -.
Angel gestured for her to sit down, tapping a chair. - Forget it, in the end, they seem good anyway- he chuckled. - Besides, eggs are rich in protein, perfect for muscle mass -.
She allowed herself to be persuaded to take a seat as she began to serve herself. She didn't like savoury breakfasts either, but the two of them had reacted so disproportionately that she didn't want to upset them further, so she decided to eat at least one to muster her strength.
- Do you think Smiles really went to see her? - the spider demon asked, nervously poking the food on his plate with his fork.
Husk answered with a shrug and a growl. - He's probably gone to threaten her to stop it, and as usual, she hasn't understood a goddamn thing -.
Charlie buried her head in the plate. - Actually, we went together... I ordered it and shared it with Alastor... but I didn't think this would happen -.
Angel almost choked on the coffee he was drinking. - What?! You went out together?! - he exclaimed, dumbfounded. - And you immediately marked your territory? -.
It was her turn to risk choking on what was in her mouth, and her eyes began to water as her face went completely red. - No! - she coughed out, hitting her chest with a closed fist. - It was more of a business meeting; we ran into my father, and I thought I'd try to get them to iron out their differences in a neutral location -.
The bartender's ears started vibrating as his red eyebrows went up. - And... he accepted? Seriously? -.
She nodded. - Or rather, I think he did it more to support me than anything else. You could see he was uncomfortable -.
- Charlie, it's a miracle Camille is alive! - exclaimed Angel.
She looked at him apologetically. - Don't say that, Alastor isn't that bad -.
The three of them were silent for a second before bursting into tears of laughter in unison.
Her friend was holding his stomach and resting his head on the table. - Oh, damn, I never thought I'd hear that sentence! -.
Husk was also red from lack of breath. - Seriously, princess, I love your sense of humour -.
Charlie stared at the three of them with sweat dripping down her forehead. They surely knew him longer, but she certainly hadn't expected such a reaction to her simple comment. On the other hand, Alastor had always behaved impeccably with her.
- To what do I owe this morning merriment? -.
The Radio Demon suddenly appeared in front of them, as always impeccable and perfectly dressed. A few seconds of silence fell, but the laughter of the three seemed uncontrollable, and just seeing him was probably enough to make them burst out again.
Charlie wanted to bury herself under the table right then, especially because the look Alastor gave her seemed to imply an imminent request for an explanation, and she lowered her eyes, resuming eating and hoping to avoid any questions that way.
- Nothing, boss - commented Husk, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye - Charlie told us a very funny joke -.
- Hilarious! - exclaimed Niffty.
The Radio Demon nodded, adjusting his monocle on his eye. - May I hear it too? -.
- Yes, Charlie, tell him - Angel teased her.
At that point, the desire to disappear by spontaneous combustion was so strong that she thought she would succeed. She looked up with her mouth still full and saw Alastor in front of her, his staff held behind his back and a tight smile on his face.
Think, Charlie, think! she mentally yelled at herself, while trying to keep the food in her mouth for as long as possible to pretend not to want to talk with her mouth full, and simultaneously attempting to reach Angel's shin with her foot to kick him.
She was inevitably forced to swallow and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. - A deer sees car headlights... splat -.
But for what cursed reason was that the only intelligent thing to say? She didn't even know where she had pulled it from; it was a mix between the horse that walks into a bar and a poor animal being hit by a car. She had to stop with that obsession for those creatures; she would end up offending him seriously. As if that wasn't enough, at that point, the other occupants of the table risked suffocation from laughter, while she shrank her head into her shoulders and almost slid down the backrest to hide.
The only one who wasn't laughing was Alastor himself. Or rather, he was smiling, but it was clear from the sharp expression in his eyes that he had not appreciated her absurd outburst at all; she hadn't liked it either. She couldn't understand why absurdities about deers kept popping into her head; she would end up seriously offending him.
- How ironic - Alastor commented. - One could say the same thing about a cat, or a newspaper with a spider -.
After saying that, he focused his gaze on the other two, who immediately stopped laughing and returned to eating in solemn silence. It had to be said that that demon instilled reverential fear in anyone who dealt with him, or even just simple fear.
- Right - Charlie added in total embarrassment. - Are you going out for your walk? - she tried to deflect, attempting to bury her face in her coffee cup.
The Overlord nodded, although the constant vibration of his ears betrayed a certain nervousness. - But I think I'll be away less than usual today; given the papers in your hands, I gather you'll need my presence -.
Charlie felt like a poor, doomed idiot, but she still tried to appear calm. - Exactly, I have some ideas that I would like to discuss with everyone this time -.
Alastor turned his back on her as he headed for the door. - Very well, I'll see you later -.
It was obvious that he was deeply irritated, and she couldn't blame him; being insulted first thing in the morning was certainly not in his top ten desires, and she slid down the edge of the chair as soon as he disappeared from her sight.
Angel popped into her field of vision. - So, are we officially starting? - he asked.
She snapped out of it, trying to focus on something else and giving him the warmest smile she could muster. - Yes! I've prepared some useful things to start laying the groundwork - she replied, raising the papers to show everyone.
Niffty observed them curiously, widening the eye in the centre of her face. - I don't think Alastor will participate, he hates these getting-to-know-you bullshits - she commented, pointing with her thin fingers at the paper where the musical note sticker was prominently displayed next to the Radio Demon's name.
That comment froze her, but she tried to ignore it. - I'm sure he won't have any problems -.
Husk ran a hand over his muzzle. - It's going to be a very difficult day -.
Niffty had shown her a room on the second floor that was used as a common lounge, the perfect place to hold their meetings. There were two dark red leather corner sofas and even a fireplace that made the atmosphere decidedly convivial. The walls were also decidedly bare, and her mind started to wander to decorations concerning redemption activities, photos of the participants, scoreboards, and every useful object to make that room a sort of classroom dedicated to her initiative. She curbed her desire to run and buy the necessities only because she first wanted Alastor's permission.
She waited standing in front of the fireplace for the other guests to arrive, arranging a small armchair opposite the sofas so she could sit facing them. She had brought some pens so they could fill out the get-to-know-you questionnaires themselves and then perhaps discuss the answers all together once they were finished.
Husk was the first to arrive and sat down opposite her, a bottle of liquor between his furry paws.
She stood up and immediately handed him the paper and the pen, and he looked at it, perplexed. - We're starting right away with personal questions, interesting - he commented flatly, beginning to drink.
Charlie smiled at him. - I think it's useful for all of us to get to know each other better, perhaps understand each other to create group cohesion -.
- Trust me, you wouldn't want to know a lot of the things written here, especially regarding Niffty - he replied, an ironic smile painted on his face.
Angel and Niffty arrived shortly after, and she waited to see Alastor appear. She was convinced he would arrive soon, but he seemed to be late, so she decided to start without him, as much as she regretted it.
She passed the questionnaires to the latecomers and stood in front of them. It had always been difficult for her to speak in public, even though the audience was sparse at the moment.
- So - she began in a high-pitched voice. - Good morning, everyone! Maybe... I'll start by introducing myself better, even though you already know me... and you already know why we're here -.
Angel ran a hand through his tuft of hair to fix it. - It sounds like an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting -.
She didn't let the comment affect her and resumed speaking. - I'm Charlie, and my goal for the next year will be to help you achieve redemption and allow you access to Heaven. If you're here, I imagine that's a goal everyone is interested in -
The three gave her a blank look but replied with short nods of agreement, and her enthusiasm began to deflate. They didn't seem at all thrilled at the idea of leaving Hell, but she couldn't blame them. She barely knew where to start, and the fact that she didn't know what Heaven would require of them didn't help. However, she was determined to start right away, at least as much as she could.
She raised the paper she was holding and pointed to it. - I've distributed get-to-know-you questionnaires to everyone. Fill them out, and then we'll discuss the answers together -.
She sat back down as the three looked at the questions with perplexed expressions.
- But what if I don't want to answer everything? - Husk asked.
She sighed, disheartened. - I understand that they might be difficult questions, but it's a way to try to open up to each other and create a cohesive and united environment -.
Angel looked at the bartender slyly. - I'd love to unite more with someone -.
He responded with a growl and a middle finger, nervously chewing on the pen she had given him.
Niffty was lying on the floor, and rather than filling out the paper, she seemed intent on stabbing it with the pen, while some hysterical giggles escaped her mouth.
- Is there also a question about the number of sexual experiences? Because otherwise, I'll come back tomorrow when I've finished counting - Angel muttered, waving the paper in the air.
Charlie ran her hands over her face. - No, Angel, nothing that specific -.
A noise behind her forced her to turn around, and like a ghost appearing from nowhere, Alastor's figure loomed behind her, making her jump.
- Apologies for the delay - he began, taking a seat in the armchair next to her and crossing his legs. - I'm delighted to see you've already started -.
She handed him the paper with a cheerful look. - You're perfectly on time! We had just started filling out the get-to-know-you questionnaires -.
Alastor took the paper in his claws, adjusting his monocle as if to read it better. - Mmh, no thank you - he replied, handing it back to her.
Charlie was stunned. - Why not? Didn't you want to participate in the project personally? -.
He nodded, still smiling at her. - Certainly, but that doesn't mean I'm going to talk about my private life -.
- The purpose of this day is precisely to try to open up to others! If you give up now, it's useless - she retorted, annoyed.
The demon seemed to become increasingly nervous. - Can I have reservations about the necessity of talking so deeply about one's past? It's the future that should interest us -.
Husk smiled, amused by the scene. - I knew he'd quit. I should have bet money on it -.
Alastor shot him a look that could kill. - I'm not quitting, I'm moving on to the next request -.
Charlie huffed, increasingly irritated by his attitude. - If we want to be partners and friends, we need to know each other, so this is also important for our collaboration -.
The Radio Demon gave her a cunning look that made her tremble. - That means I'll talk about it with you privately if you deem it so necessary -.
- That's not fair! Then I want immunity too! - Angel blurted out, sitting up straighter.
Niffty showed the punctured paper with satisfaction. - I'm fine with talking about why I'm here! -.
- Niff, I don't want to hear that terrifying story again - Husk mumbled, the fur on his back standing up.
She hid her face in her hands and breathed into them to avoid exploding. She knew it would be difficult, but she hadn't imagined that a simple questionnaire would spark all that reluctance.
- Fine, then I'll set a good example! - she burst out, standing up and holding the paper that theoretically belonged to the Radio Demon, who watched her with curiosity. - You already know my name, so I'd say I can skip that, and the reason I'm here too. Unlike you, I was born in Hell, so I've never died -.
Angel nodded, pointing to one of the questions. - What are the attributes that describe a person worthy of Heaven for you? -.
Charlie thought for a few seconds before answering. – Altruism - she murmured. - The ability to put oneself second for the sake of others and to try to act for the best for everyone, even if it's not always possible -.
- And how do you plan to help us develop this skill? - Husk asked.
- That question didn't seem to be on the questionnaire - Alastor commented, getting up and leaning over her shoulder to look at it, and she stiffened the moment she felt the demon's breath on her neck.
She took a step forward to move away. - But it's relevant - she stammered, trying to calm down. - Since I want to be honest today and start on the right foot, I don't know. I mean, it's the first time for me, just like it is for you, but I'm sure that if we commit together, we'll find a way -.
Alastor smiled at her with a satisfied look. - I couldn't have said it better, chérie -.
- What about sex? Does it have to be avoided for those chastity nonsense? - Angel asked again.
Charlie felt her face burn, and she heard a growl come from Alastor's throat; he was probably glaring at her friend. - Well... no... that is... not... I... can you repeat the question? -.
- What you do in the privacy of your rooms does not concern the project that my new partner and I intend to carry out, so allow me to answer on her behalf - Alastor began, standing beside her. - Do as you please, away from everyone's eyes for the sake of our sight -.
Husk turned to Angel. - Try to make one more joke about me, and I'll make you eat the paper -.
- You're so rigid, you should relax - the other commented, continuing to keep his eyes on the questions. - So, our days will be like this? Discussions about the meaning of life and death? -.
It had been less than ten minutes since she had started, and she already felt exhausted, but luckily, Alastor seemed at least intent on helping her on that front, although she wouldn't let him off the hook about his reluctance to actively participate once they were alone.
- We will do what is necessary to carry out our dear Charlie's idea - he began, adjusting his jacket on his shoulders. - As soon as we have enough information from Heaven, we will better decide what to do. For the moment, I invite everyone to comply with what is requested of you -.
She stood in front of him. - Alastor, they shouldn't feel forced, otherwise it's useless -.
Niffty leaned her elbows on the small wooden table between the sofas. - I don't feel forced; it's nice to see you struggling and in difficulty -.
I'll have to work a lot with her, Charlie thought, as a strained smile pulled at her cheeks and she tried not to look frightened by that probing and attentive gaze.
- Anyway, - Angel chimed in, standing up. - I'm sorry to interrupt you, but Val requires my immediate presence, so I have to leave you -.
She walked toward him, trying not to stop him. - Can't you ask him to delay a bit? We've just started -.
Her friend sighed, passing her and heading for the door. - Charlie, I seriously appreciate that you've stayed, and if it helps keep you from disappearing, I'll do my best, but don't interfere with my work. It's already difficult enough -.
She wanted to stop him, but he disappeared from her sight, and she was left with her hand extended in mid-air and a lump forming in her throat. As a first day, it had been a total fiasco across the board, and she felt terribly defeated.
- Um... so, break for everyone? - Husk asked, leaning over the sofa.
She tried to regain her composure and turned back to the others. - Yes, I think that's best - she replied, then fixed her eyes on Alastor. - After lunch, we need to talk -.
She, too, left the room, stamping her feet on the floor and heading towards her room, going down the stairs quickly. She was nervous and irritated; an infinite number of negative feelings were mixing in her soul, making her blood boil in her veins. For the first time since she had known him, Alastor had managed to infuriate her. She wouldn't let him off easily; she would demand an explanation.
Alastor was sitting at the bar, watching Husk put the liquor in order for the evening after having finished his lunch, and he was decidedly satisfied with how things had gone that morning.
Chats with Rosie were always a godsend when he had doubts, and she had managed to quickly dissipate them. The fact that he had refused to participate in the activity was decidedly premeditated, and it was a fortunate coincidence that he genuinely had no intention of talking about his past with his new roommates. He had spoken at length with the Overlordess about the new activity he wanted to set up with Charlie, and she had pointed out a damn simple thing to him.
"Sweetheart, don't indulge her too much. She'll take you for a sycophant rather than a friend."
He was so focused on wanting to please the princess that he risked losing sight of a fundamental thing: he shouldn't always seem compliant, or she would suspect that his continuous affirmative answers were a way to appease and manipulate her. A healthy compromise of stick and carrot was needed, and he had been so caught up in distracting her from everything else that he had lost sight of that simple yet important detail. It was important to divert her suspicions in the bud, and this even gave him a chance to let go of some of the irritation he felt towards that stupid idea about redemption.
- Boss, can I ask you a question? - Husk asked, rousing him from his thoughts.
He leaned on the counter. - It depends, mon amì - he replied. - Remember we're not entirely alone anymore -.
The bartender turned, nervously scratching the back of his neck. - Why are you doing this? I mean, all of this -.
He widened his smile as he finished sipping the glass of wine he had consumed with his lunch. - As I told you, I'm not interested in harming her, if that's what worries you -.
The bartender sighed, returning to arranging the bottles. - Alright, but I still don't understand why you're putting on this whole charade! If you just wanted her soul, there are decidedly simpler ways than this -.
He glared at him. - Lower your voice - he hissed. - The reason is none of your business. It won't change your routine or your situation, so I don't see the reason for all this interest. It's not the first time I've gone into business with someone -.
The cat demon raised his eyebrows sarcastically. - Yeah, but usually they lasted two days and then ended up on your show -.
He couldn't hold back a chuckle at the thought of how pleasant it was to torture those souls before finally taking them out and trapping them. – Touché - he commented, putting the glass back on the counter. - Dear Charlotte, however, is an enticing diversion for the moment. Suffice it to say that I am very curious to discover what sound the thud of her failure will make -.
And above all, what absolute power over Hell tastes like, he concluded mentally as he stood up to go to his office. Charlie would arrive shortly to talk about what had happened during the morning, and he was already prepared for any kind of outburst.
He leaned back in his chair and half-closed his eyes, enjoying the silence before the demoness arrived. It was essential that no one knew the real reason that was pushing him to pursue the crown in that way; everything he had built over the years depended on it. Even if he told Husk, he couldn't reveal it since he owned his soul, but it was better to keep the secret from him too.
A year is enough, he told himself, massaging his neck as if it were once again caught in a vise. Despite not having the chain on at that moment, it still felt tight around his throat like a noose impossible to untie. He kept telling himself it was worth it, but every now and then, that weight seemed to bury him.
Footsteps outside brought him back to reality, followed by a nervous knock. – Hello - the princess began, entering before he could answer. She still had the paper from that morning in her hand.
He remained silent, waiting for her to speak first. He felt the need to understand how his new partner discussed things so he would be prepared for her reaction and could respond appropriately. She was clearly agitated; he noticed it from the way she kept clenching her fingers together and the frantic movement of her foot under the desk.
- I think we need to talk about what happened this morning, don't you think? - she began, placing the paper on the desk and sliding it towards him.
He looked at the questionnaire decorated with the black musical note sticker and then raised his eyes back to her. - Charlie, I appreciate what you want to do, and to prove it, I told you I would participate. However, I never said I would engage in heart-to-heart chats in front of people who are simply work colleagues to me -.
The demoness narrowed her gaze; her furious look was moving, she looked like a seal pup desperately trying to appear aggressive. - The point of the exercise was to get involved and show one's vulnerabilities -.
- I have no vulnerabilities - he replied, folding his hands in his lap and smiling at her defiantly.
Charlie seemed to become even more annoyed. - Oh, really? - she huffed, then leaned over the desk. - What about your aversion to physical contact? -.
She leaned forward so much that she managed to touch his forehead with her index finger, and that simple touch managed to annoy him more than Angel Dust and his crude manner. - Take. Your. Finger. Off - he enunciated seriously.
She didn't seem at all bothered and kept it firmly planted on his forehead. - Well? Isn't that a vulnerability? There must be a reason why you hate being touched in any situation -.
He nervously pulled her hand away, but she then touched his cheek, digging her index finger into his cheekbone; it felt like dealing with a five-year-old child. - Charlie, stop touching me -.
- Does it bother you? -.
At that point, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her away abruptly. - This behaviour would bother anyone with a minimum of regard for their personal space! -.
She gave him a sly look. - But you don't mind touching others, so it's not just that -.
He felt a chill and let go of her wrist as if it had become heating. He couldn't stand being cornered, especially by someone trying to investigate his mind. At that moment, he was having no trouble standing up to her, mainly because he wanted to hang her from the ceiling so deeply was she irritating him. There were many things about him that had to remain hidden, including why he hated sudden physical contact with anyone. He only allowed people to get close when he was psychologically prepared, which is why touching first was never a problem because, in that case, he had already become aware that there would soon be a clash of flesh.
- I don't see how this stupid game could increase trust between us or with the other guests - he replied, sitting back down.
Charlie did the same and picked up the paper she had passed him earlier. - If we want to be friends, as you said, you have to learn to trust me and I you. Trust is the foundation of a lasting friendship -.
- You don't trust me? - he asked her, realizing how much he had underestimated the princess.
She shrugged, pulling the pen out of one of her jacket pockets. - It's not that I don't trust you, I have a healthy wariness. I don't believe the rumours about you, but that doesn't mean I don't have reservations -.
He widened his eyes. - And you tell me this in this way? -.
She raised her face from the paper and gave him a disarming smile. - That's what friends do; they are always honest about everything. Would you prefer a lie? -.
He couldn't believe it; she had caught him completely off guard, and he wasn't used to it. For him, it was so natural to conceal every move behind subterfuge and carefully planned actions that it didn't seem practical to reveal his cards in such an absurd way. Charlie, on the other hand, was as transparent as the water of a mountain stream, and he had never appreciated that enough; it was useless to try to study her in depth, she was an open book to anyone. That simple realization took his breath away, making him realize how many difficulties he would face from that moment on.
No, they weren't difficulties. They were simply challenges, and he had always loved healthy competition, and the princess would prove to be a wonderful pastime as well as the means to get what he wanted.
- Touché - he replied, adjusting his bow tie. - I also hope that our little discussion hasn't eroded the trust I want to build -.
She shook her head, and some strands of golden hair escaped her braid. - No, perhaps it's the first time you've seemed completely genuine to me - she laughed out. - Don't get me wrong, I also appreciated the fact that you were always so available, but I was always afraid you were doing it to show off -.
Rosie, I can never thank you enough, he thought, satisfied. - So, you'll stop proposing that absurd questionnaire to me? -.
She didn't seem to be listening fully; she was too busy writing on the paper she had taken back. - Actually, I intend to fill it out myself every time I discover something about you. Under the heading 'What do you hate most?' I've put 'Physical contact.' Now all that remains is to discover the reason - she smiled contentedly, showing him the spot where she had taken notes. - But I'm convinced that little by little, you'll open up to me -.
Irritating, he thought nervously, raising an eyebrow. - Cherié, the trust you have in me should be built on the future we will share, not on what I did in the past. Isn't that the point of redemption? Erasing past actions to aim for a brighter future? -.
The princess seemed caught out and gasped, how much he loved making her so nervous. - Well, partially, yes. But you said you also wanted to be my friend, right? I can't be friends with someone who hides his worst sides from me and only shows me his best -.
He was really starting to lose his patience with those sagacious and sharp answers. – Right - he whispered, clenching his jaw. - And you? What do you hate most? -.
Charlie finally seemed speechless, and he enjoyed her bewildered expression. She seemed almost breathless, so much had she been caught off guard, and he leaned his elbows on the desk and interlaced his fingers to rest his chin on them, wanting to enjoy even the slightest change in expression of the demoness in front of him. How comforting it was to know he hadn't lost his touch.
- Perhaps loneliness - she suddenly whispered, lowering her eyes. - The knowledge that there's no one you can turn to -.
Again, that annoying sensation in the pit of his stomach became insistent, yet he had just finished lunch, so it couldn't be hunger again. So what the hell was happening? And why had it started when she had spoken so sorrowfully? Was that saccharine and overly sweet side of hers so repulsive to him? He should have investigated that point better with Rosie; maybe it was simple acid reflux caused by the nervousness that continued to grip him since he embarked on that difficult undertaking. He had been thinking about the princess, the crown, and the time that was slowly running out like sand in an hourglass for days.
His shadow behind him gave him a pinch to wake him up; it was not the time to dwell on those thoughts. He had to stand his ground and exploit the weakness she had shown him.
He stood up, walking slowly towards her, who in the meantime continued to keep her eyes fixed on the ground and seemed completely lost and distant. He took the paper that she was still clutching in her hands along with the pen and made a note about it where she had written about his hatred of physical contact.
- What are you doing? - Charlie asked, perplexed.
He turned to her once he had finished writing. - If you take notes on me, I will take notes on you - he began, handing the paper back to her. - I'm afraid I don't have a suitable sticker to add, though -.
The princess looked at what he had written in surprise. – Loneliness - she repeated, reading. - I'd say that's a good compromise -.
He crouched down towards her, getting close to her face, which regained those pinkish hues he was getting used to seeing by now. - And anyway, I never leave my friends alone -.
The demoness's already red cheeks became an even more intense colour, and she seemed on the verge of coughing, while her crimson eyes widened. - Oh, thank you, Alastor - she murmured. - That's very kind of you -.
That damned sensation was bringing bile up his throat, and he couldn't understand why it intensified every time he got close to the princess or noticed some detail about her. If he continued this way, he risked getting some sort of ulcer. It was unnerving not to have total control of his body, especially since it had been a long time since that had happened.
- Charlieeeeeeee! -.
Angel Dust's shrill voice pierced his ears, and he snapped back, shooting a murderous glare at the door. - I think someone’s looking for you, cherié - he commented, pulling his ears back in a desperate attempt to protect them from the porn star's latest scream.
- Can I use your shower? -.
He turned to the demoness with a perplexed look. - Have you decided to share a room? -.
She began to blink dreamily before finally recovering. - No, it's just that I know they have a shared bathroom, and since the hot water often runs out, I thought I'd let him use mine -.
- Well, Charlie, I'm using it anyway. The hot water is gone, and I need to wash off the drool from Freddy and the other four extras -.
They both ended up staring at each other, shocked; those were probably excessive details for both their ears, and that discomfort in his stomach had definitely turned into nausea at the idea of whatever the whining pest had done during his so-called work.
He cleared his throat, placing his hand in front of his mouth and trying not to let his anger at what he had just heard show. - I understand, very magnanimous of you -.
She continued to fiddle with the black suspenders she was wearing and looked down again. - Maybe we could think of a way to keep it from running out so quickly -.
- We'll see - he found himself hissing, as he headed for the door, very unsubtly inviting her to leave. - I'm sorry to be rude, but I need to finish checking some supplier reports before my broadcast and the evening service -.
Charlie headed out with her head down, still clutching the paper in her hands. - Yes, of course, see you at dinner! -.
He closed the door behind her and let out an exasperated sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose in a desperate attempt to relieve at least a little of the accumulated tension.
A year is enough, a year is enough.
Charlie was lying stretched out on the bed, staring at the light ceiling for half an hour. She kept glancing at the paper she had left on the bedside table and wondered if perhaps she should have been more insistent with Alastor, or maybe she had been too much.
It was somehow nice to see a more reluctant side of him regarding her proposals; it made her realize that he wasn't willing to indulge her just because she was the princess and he wanted something from her. At the same time, she still felt piqued by the fact that he was so repulsive towards opening up to others, also because the questions she had written weren't that terrible or personal; most of them concerned likes and dislikes, and only a few were more in-depth, asking about the causes that might have brought the guests to Hell.
She rolled onto her side, wondering if she hadn't been too childish in her attitude, but still, she had reached an important milestone: she had managed to make him loosen up at least a little, and now they shared that paper, which was like a representation of the point their relationship had just reached. They were finally taking a step toward getting to know each other without the filters of etiquette or hierarchy, and she was partially happy about it. That new attitude from the Overlord was a breath of fresh air compared to his continuous acceptance of everything she asked, and it would be nice to discover the difficult sides of his character too. It was probably absurd, but she had always thought that people's best qualities were hidden in their flaws. When one strives to be perfect, one always comes across as artificial; only when one lets go can the lights hidden under the shadows be seen.
She smiled at the memory of Alastor's irritated face when she touched his cheekbone and how stunned he had been when she pointed out that he had no problem touching others; perhaps she had even managed to surprise him.
Strange shivers ran down her arms at the memory of the moment he had leaned down towards her and stared at her in a strange, almost suffering way. He seemed on the verge of feeling unwell, and she had felt uncomfortable with that strange reaction, and especially for that reason, she thought she had gone too far with her actions. The Radio Demon must have been very used to maintaining distance from everyone, and she had jumped right over those boundaries with both feet, trampling them with all her might.
She hid her head under the pillow, feeling terribly ashamed of what had happened and promising herself to be less vehement in her approaches with the Overlord, or she would risk making him completely furious.
The bathroom door opened, and Angel came out, letting a cloud of steam pass into the room. - Ah, that was needed - he commented, walking towards her. - Everything alright, Charlie? -.
She poked her head out and observed her friend sitting on the edge of the bed, a few drops of water still dripping from the tuft of fur on his head. - Yes, I'm just a bit drained from this day -.
He lay down next to her and put one pair of arms behind his head and the others resting in his lap. - I can imagine; it can't be easy trying to find a way to get us to fucking Heaven -. he replied, taking a deep breath. - But... I admit I kinda hope you succeed -.
She propped herself up on one elbow to observe him better, but he kept his eyes closed as if he wanted to hide. - I'll do my best, Angel, I promise -.
A bitter smile appeared on the spider demon's face. - It would be awesome to kick Val's ass and tell him to fuck off from the high heavens -.
She rested her face back on the pillow closest to his shoulder, fighting the urge to hug him. - We'll do it, Angel; you're the one who inspired me -.
He opened his eyes wide and turned towards her. - What do you mean? -.
This time it was her who half-closed her eyes so he wouldn't see. - Since you made the deal with Valentino, I wondered if there was a way to help you... and this is the best one I've found -.
Angel seemed to laugh. - If you don't count murder -.
She didn't know why, but they found themselves laughing at that comment until her stomach started to hurt.
In that precise moment, even the feeling of missing home seemed less oppressive.
After Angel left, she also treated herself to a shower and went downstairs to have dinner before the evening service. She was used to eating later, but she was willing to adapt so as not to burden Niffty's and the others' tasks during the evening. She also intended to participate this time, although she didn't know in what capacity yet, but she would ask Alastor what was the best way to make herself useful. She was tired of staying in her room reading or brooding over all her anxieties.
The Radio Demon was already waiting for her, intent on doing some bar checks with Husk, while Niffty had started to prepare the first dishes, which also included their dinner.
Alastor turned towards her with a closed-lip smile. - Bonsoir, chérie, can I help you? -.
She smiled back at him, leaning on the counter with both hands. - Actually, I was about to ask you, I would like to make myself useful for tonight -.
Husk seemed to skip a beat, and the napkins he was holding almost slipped from his paws, while the Overlord remained motionless as if he were a frozen image.
- Charlie, you don't have to worry about the service; we are a perfectly oiled and functional machine now - he replied with a serene look.
She pouted sadly. - But I really want to help; I'm tired of being shut up in my room -.
The demon moved a hand reassuringly. - It's important that you prioritize our project first. If you like, however, you can stay in the lounge with us -.
She crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him sideways. - Do you think I'm not capable of being useful? I'm perfectly capable of doing anything -.
She saw him take a deep breath as he narrowed his eyes. - My kitchen would have something to say about that -.
She raised a finger ready to respond, but unfortunately, she was forced to lower it and look down. The fact that she had set the kitchen on fire certainly didn't help her, but it had truly been an accident, and she was sure she could do something.
- Maybe I can wait tables - she suggested, adjusting her shirt.
Alastor leaned an elbow on the counter. - My shadows are for that -.
- Then I could help Husk prepare the drinks - she ventured.
The bartender froze again. - It's not necessary, and besides, I like to work alone -.
She wanted to propose something else, but a persistent knocking at the door abruptly interrupted her attempt, giving her a new idea. - I could be at the reception! -.
Alastor began to rub his head. - Charlie, that's my job, and besides, we are closed at the moment -.
Charlie went to the door anyway. - Maybe it's someone who needs some information -.
She opened it and froze on the spot when she saw a familiar figure looming in front of her.
- Good evening, nice tits, did you miss me? -.
Notes:
I'm leaving you with quite a cliffhanger this time LOL
It's certainly very easy to figure out who the shady figure who showed up at the door is, but now we'll have to see the reactions of all the characters involved, first and foremost our dear Alastor! I don't think the new arrival's presence will particularly please him, especially in his own home!
In the meantime, Rosie provides him with excellent advice to quell the princess's doubts, and this time Charlie partially falls for it! She's also starting to get suspicious of the Radio Demon's behaviour, not to mention that Camille won't let it go! I'm sorry, dear, it looks like dear Bambi will never give you satisfaction despite the crepes.
I always thank everyone who reads this story <3
See you soon!
Chapter Text
Charlie was completely frozen in the doorway, unable to say or do anything but gasp so conspicuously that for a second she thought she might faint.
Adam was standing in front of her in an outfit that was decidedly... peculiar? He probably thought it best to find something suitable to camouflage himself from the eyes of the infernal populace, but what he was wearing was totally out of place and embarrassing even for a guy like him. He wore an absurd red dragon costume that also looked terribly heavy for the climate of Hell, which she could tell from the drops of sweat running down his head and sticking his dark hair to his temples. His face peeked out beyond the huge mouth of the costume, studded with soft white teeth, and as if all that wasn't enough, he reeked of acrylic to the point that she felt choked.
From behind the enormous tail, the figure of her father appeared, almost scrambling to get past him and move in front, also gasping for air.
- Charlie... someone came to see you – he mumbled, irritated, pointing his thumb at the angel behind him.
Every single alarm bell in her head started flashing, making her catatonic. Not only had Adam shown up at Alastor's place, and she was pretty sure she'd just heard him growl, but he had first stopped by her place, putting her father on alert. She knew that if there were three people in that dimension who shouldn't be kept in the same room, it was those three; they would risk setting Pentagram City on fire just because one of them breathed too loudly.
- I told you I could come alone, short-stack – Adam blurted out.
A nervous tic ran through the King of Hell’s eye, who continued to stare straight ahead, gripping his walking stick tightly with both hands. - And I told you that rather than let you see my daughter without a chaperone, I'd fuck a real dragon, and I assure you I know one -.
Oh, perfect, all that's missing is Uncle Satan in this beautiful picture she thought, exasperated, while all she could do was stand with her mouth half-open like a goldfish in a bowl.
A cough behind her forced her to turn around and she found Alastor there, observing the newcomer with an investigative look, his vermillion eyes narrowed into two pinpricks full of malice.
- Bonsoir, to what do we owe the honor of this visit? – he asked, holding his back straight as if he were about to snap.
Adam pulled off the dragon's head like it was a hoodie. – Who the fuck are you? -.
At that point, she was sure Alastor would kill him; she distinctly sensed his irritation even though she wasn't looking at him right now. She noticed the slight vibrations of his fingers on the stick he held in front of his torso, and above all, the room suddenly seemed to have become darker and gloomier. A static hiss was coming from the Overlord's lips, and she remained fixed like a pole.
She blinked a couple of times before recovering. – Um, Alastor, this is Adam. Adam, this is Alastor – she tried to say in a squeaky voice, pointing first to one and then the other.
Another broken glass accompanied those introductions; at this rate, the establishment would completely run out of them. Thanks to her, Husk had already broken at least three.
Lucifer entered, bypassing the Radio Demon, and took a seat on one of the stools. – An apple juice, cat, please – he commented tiredly, massaging his temples.
The angel remained on the threshold, observing the seraphim. – You still drink like a pussy -.
- And you’re still the same idiot unable to keep that big mouth shut. If you had known how to use it in more creative ways, perhaps you would have kept your wife – the king replied, spinning on the stool and giving him a mocking smile, then making a V sign with his fingers in front of his lips and sticking out his forked tongue.
Charlie covered her face; that was definitely too much information regarding the relationship her father had with her mother.
Adam then walked past her and Alastor, bumping his shoulder, and she was sure that for a second his pupils had taken the shape of radio dials and that green stitches had formed around his mouth. She tried to catch his gaze, but he remained motionless, staring at the open door, completely devoid of expression, except for his constant smile, which seemed more forced than usual.
- You funny little dick-bag! -.
- Your first wife didn't think that when she saw it -.
Oh, damn it, this can't be happening she thought, distraught, not even knowing how to move in that absurd situation. She should have expected Adam to show up sooner or later for the weekly meeting she herself had proposed, but she thought they would have warned her so she could organize. She never expected to see him drop in by surprise like that, especially with her father and instigating an argument about who had the longer penis.
She tried to get Alastor's attention, who turned towards her with a neck snap so fast that it emitted a terrifying crack. – If you need a chaperone, I kindly ask you to remove me from the list -.
She tucked her head into her shoulders, casting fleeting glances at the counter where Husk looked like he was about to stick the bottle down his throat just to get the last sip of whatever he was drinking.
- Actually... well... is it a problem if we stay here? I mean... I would feel safer not being alone with him, and a place full of people would be the ideal spot -.
At that point, she was absolutely certain that Alastor's eyes had become two radio dials; she could see them perfectly from that position. His neck had strangely lengthened, emitting gloomy creaks, and a green aura studded with voodoo symbols was beginning to form around him.
- I don't think I understood, chérie. Could you kindly repeat that? – he asked her in a hiss as she almost flattened herself on the ground.
Her father was too busy insulting Adam to notice what was happening a short distance from him, and this was both good and bad.
She swallowed the lump of saliva stuck in her throat with difficulty and forced a sweet smile. – Well, after all, you said this is like my home, right? -.
An uncontrollable tremor made one of the Overlord's eyelids twitch in front of her, whose jaws seemed about to snap from the grip he was holding on his mandible. – Charlotte, chérie, I would rather go to dinner with Camille and be force-fed sickly sweet desserts than keep that uncultured boor inside my establishment -.
- Who did you call an uncultured boor, you little dick-head with an ass-face?! -.
Alastor's ears pulled back as he returned to a less disturbing appearance. – As I thought -.
Charlie put her hands together and moved closer to him so she wouldn't be heard. – Please! I promise I'll do anything! -.
Alastor's smile widened strangely, and he simultaneously narrowed his eyelids. – You said, anything? -.
Lucifer suddenly appeared between them. – There's no need, she can come home, and I'll be happy to chaperone! -.
The Overlord's gaze suddenly softened, as if he had returned to his senses, and Charlie told herself she would have to investigate what he would want in return for that courtesy.
- There’s no problem, of course, I would never ask anything of my new business partner. You can stay here – he replied serenely.
Husk leaned over the counter with a perplexed look. – Boss, not to ruin your plans, but I don't think this will go unnoticed – he commented, pointing to Adam, who in the meantime was trying to take a seat on one of the sofas, knocking the candles on the tables to the floor with his tail.
- Fucking costume, fucking tail, fucking Hell – he muttered under his breath as he wedged himself between the table and the armchair, emitting constant noises.
Alastor closed his eyelids and took a deep breath. – Call whoever made a reservation; tell them we had to close tonight due to a fire in the kitchens -.
- But there wasn’t a fire in the kitchens – Husk commented.
The Radio Demon almost growled. – We could ask Charlie to help; she’s an expert in this field -.
- Honey, did you set the kitchen on fire? I told you to be careful last time! You might get hurt – her father exclaimed, widening his eyes and starting to check her to make sure she hadn't suffered any burns.
Charlie glared at Alastor. – I thought we were past that incident -.
He shrugged, walking towards the kitchens. – I forgive, but I don't forget -.
- Hey! goldy-eyes, shall we start this date?! – Adam shouted at her, making her jump.
He must be colourblind, she told herself, sighing out all the air in her lungs.
Lucifer tightened his grip on her shoulders, showing his upper jaw like a lion ready to attack. – Now do you understand why I wanted to stop you from doing this madness? -.
She moved him away, trying to regain her composure and smoothing her red jacket with her hands. – Dad, please, one problem at a time -.
The table Adam had chosen to sit at was the farthest from the counter, perhaps to prevent anything he might think of saying to her from reaching her father's ears. She already considered it a small miracle that those two had limited themselves to insults without resorting to blows; she didn't want to imagine what would happen if some particularly disturbing comment reached her father's ears.
She took a seat opposite him, even making sure to keep her legs away from his to avoid touching. – Apparently no one will be coming tonight, so you can take off the costume if you're hot – she tried to say, hoping her kindness would be reciprocated.
The angel pointed his hands like guns at her. – Thanks, it's fucking hot in here -.
With a snap of his fingers, he made the costume disappear and was left in more casual clothes. He wore a tight black t-shirt that highlighted his sculpted pectorals and a pair of ripped jeans. She still found it hard to believe that this guy was not only an angel but also her mother's ex-husband. Knowing her, even without her father's intervention, they could never have been a couple destined to last.
He spread his arms along the sofa. – So, this bullshit is about getting to know each other. So who starts? -.
Charlie sighed, trying to force her smile even more. – Well, is there anything about me you'd like to know? I mean, before today, we never had a chance to talk outside of official meetings -.
Adam put on a thoughtful expression, then gave her a mocking smirk. – Favourite position for fucking? -.
She almost fell off the chair at that point and heard yet another glass shatter. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that this time Husk was not the culprit; it was her father who had squeezed it excessively, ending up shattering it and spilling all the juice it contained onto the counter and the floor. The bartender sighed resignedly as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and pulled out a rag to start cleaning up the mess, murmuring various curses.
- Does that seem like a starting question? Don't you care even a little bit about making a good impression? – she asked him, dumbfounded.
The angel responded by shrugging again. – Nah, the contract's signed anyway, and we'll still get married in a year -.
- Not if I redeem a soul – she replied, feeling her throat parched with anger.
Adam burst into a booming laugh, slamming his fist on the table and holding his stomach with his other hand. – Oh, fuck, you actually believe that? What a fool! -.
Charlie felt horns starting to grow on her head and had to rely on all her self-control to avoid exploding at that precise moment. – We'll see who the fool is, Adam -.
He wiped a tear that had fallen from the side of his golden eye and slowly took a breath. – Alright, have it your way, pretty tits. For now, I'm still enjoying my freedom while I can -.
So much for respecting the engagement commitment she thought ironically, although the matter didn't concern her. As far as she was concerned, they had no kind of bond, not until that year was over and she was forced to marry him. Furthermore, she had no romantic interests, so she found no difficulty in complying with that clause; the only person she would risk breaking it for was not interested in that kind of relationship.
- Well, let’s not talk about that bullshit. Instead, what do you eat in this place? – he asked, glancing at Husk behind her back. – Hey! Waiter! Is some bastard going to bring us a menu? -.
Niffty, who had popped out of nowhere, appeared in front of them with her large eye wide open in the centre of her face, making Adam jump in the armchair.
- I prepared a special dish for tonight – she hissed at him. – Want to taste it? -.
The angel slipped further away, continuing to stare at her. – No fucking way! -.
She tilted her head to the side, looking offended. – Too bad for you -, after that sentence, she vanished exactly as she had arrived, and Charlie couldn't help but smile at the intervention.
- That means I’ll drink something. Since you live in this dump, can you tell me what to drink? – he asked her, bored, resting an elbow on the table and his head on his open palm.
She took yet another long breath before answering him. – I don't drink much, but Husk is very good -.
- Pussy – he replied, rolling his eyes. – Hey! Bring me something strong! And whatever she usually drinks for her -.
Alastor had been through a lot in his earthly and infernal existence, facing and enduring things that would give most people nightmares. Yet, he had always emerged with his serene calm, sporting a true grin capable of instilling fear in anyone, and this had made him the damned soul able to bend many to his will. He was genuinely convinced that there could be nothing that would upset his nerves to this extent.
He had to completely change his mind that day.
All because of Charlie.
That angel was able to simultaneously assault almost all of his senses. His sight with his mere presence, his smell due to the odour of sweat and acrylic emanating from that hideous costume, his hearing with his sometimes high-pitched voice, which only managed to utter the worst profanity. He was even sure that if he touched him, it would manage to irritate his sense of touch too; perhaps only taste would be spared.
Angelic flesh must be particularly tender, but perhaps a guy like that would still turn out to be stringy and unpleasant even when served as a dish. And he was in his establishment because of the Princess; therefore, the object of his nervousness swung like a pendulum from her to him in a constant turmoil that was twisting his guts as if they were being squeezed by rough, knotty hands.
As if the presence of that boor with a feather-filled brain wasn't enough for his precarious calm, Lucifer had positioned himself at the counter of his establishment and continued to drink horrendous fruit juices that Husk only kept for mixing with alcohol. At this rate, he would have to make an unscheduled reorder of apple, peach, and even strawberry juice. Not counting the two glasses that had shattered in less than ten minutes; in all those years of opening before Charlie arrived, only five had been broken. They would reach a new record at this pace.
Husk came downstairs after contacting all the customers, arriving behind him. – Everything alright, Boss? You're strangely quiet -.
He remained motionless, staring through the door's porthole at the three unwelcome patrons. – Mon amì, one never plans a murder out loud -.
The bartender sighed, looking around the room in turn. – I think I'll overlook the insults I heard shouted at me from the regulars. I blamed Niffty -.
- Hey! – she shrieked, popping out of the cold room. – You could have said it was Charlie! -.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. What he wanted to do was withdraw so as not to hear the ferocious squawking of every being present in the two rooms, but he didn't trust any of them enough to leave them alone with an angel and the King. He would have to muster all his remaining calm to get through what he hoped would be a few hours.
- For the moment, it’s best that few people know of the Princess’s presence, and I hope I don't need to tell you that no one should know about an angel's presence in the establishment. Have I made myself clear? – he asked in a thin voice, casting menacing glances at both of them.
Niffty put on a confused expression. – Not even Angel Dust? -.
- Especially not Angel Dust! Luckily, that nagging pest is out of the way tonight -.
Husk started to head back to the lounge. – Look, Boss, not to butt into whatever you’re cooking up, but you should really preside over this charade. After all, it was your idea -.
He barely held back the growl that rose in his throat, instilling a healthy dose of fear in his subordinate, who quickly reached the counter, leaving him in the kitchen.
That damned angel had been sitting at the table for almost an hour, out of his sight, but close enough to his ears to let him hear a good part of the obscenities he had rattled off in that short span of time. He truly couldn't comprehend how that guy could be called a creature of Heaven; he looked more like some disgusting boor he might have met in the most sordid speakeasies of New Orleans during his life and whom he probably would have enjoyed mutilating.
Now that’s a relaxing thought he told himself, as he imagined cutting Adam's body piece by piece, starting if possible with those annoying and obscene wings.
He could definitely pluck him first like a Thanksgiving turkey and then cut them off; perhaps they would be more delicious than the rest of his body, despite being stringy. He would probably have to cook those to make them more tender, perhaps in a stew with seasonal vegetables. The arms and legs, however, would be perfect raw. He realized that his salivation had begun to increase because of those fantasies, but at least he had achieved the goal of calming down momentarily.
He swallowed the lump that had formed in his mouth and took a deep breath before entering the room. The smell of acrylic and sweat still hadn't gone away, and his sensitive nose was immediately hit by that stench, instantly taking away the satisfaction that hypothetical meal would have given him.
He’s not even good enough to eat he commented to himself, leaning against the shelf behind him and trying not to look directly at the King. If he did, he was sure that the Lucifer would start with his usual whining, and at that moment he needed to conserve his remaining patience to avoid a massacre. He hoped at least that this move would once more earn him the Princess's trust; that was the only thing he had to stay focused on.
He then fixed his gaze on one of the establishment's lamps, wondering how long it had been since Niffty had cleaned it; he was sure he saw a small stain.
- More juice, Your Majesty? – Husk asked.
The seraphim nodded, disheartened. – Yes, cat, I need it -.
Like father, like daughter, two grown-up children he thought, irritated. That little guy couldn't even drink; he limited himself to having sickening fruit juices poured for him to suppress his feelings with sweetness, something adults usually did with alcohol.
Speaking of alcohol he told himself, making one of his favourite aged whiskeys appear between his fingers. He brought it to his nose, hoping that the smell would erase Adam's stench, and for a while, his nostrils were invaded by the fragrant cedar notes that characterized the barrel where the distilled spirit was aged, an intoxicating fragrance that paved the way for the flavour he would soon taste with satisfaction.
- ...and so I told her, I mean, I'm the first fucking dick on the planet! If you're going to suck something, suck this! -.
All three of them froze upon hearing that sentence, staring at each other without truly seeing, as if asking for confirmation that they had actually heard that sentence.
If my sense of smell is saved, I won't be able to save my hearing he thought angrily, swallowing a long gulp of whiskey and concentrating on the burning sensation that reached his stomach, which was still more pleasant than anything coming out of Adam's mouth.
Lucifer's eyes were starting to take on vermillion hues, and his teeth were grinding together like nails on glass. – I'm going to kill him, damn the agreements with Heaven -.
Don't you dare, you damned short-stack! You'll ruin my plans
He set down his glass and approached the counter, stepping out of the shadows and addressing the king. – Your Majesty, I agree with you that it would certainly be a pleasant activity, but I recommend foresight -.
Husk looked at him, amused by the fact that he, who had known him for so many years, was perfectly capable of noticing when he was flattering emptily to snare a prey. They were the same techniques he had used on him back in the day.
The King looked at him with irritation. – All we needed was you; I don't know who is worse between the two of you -.
- Perhaps between the two, it’s better to choose the one who isn't aiming for your daughter’s favours, wouldn't you agree? – he replied ironically.
Lucifer trembled for a second, his big red and gold eyes widening on his face, as a shiver shook him to the point of making his hideous top hat slip to the side. – Ugh, disgusting – he murmured in a trembling voice. – And anyway, who’s to say you’re not interested in something else too? I don't trust you, regardless -.
The bartender barely held back a laugh, and he glared at him before any comment could leave his mouth.
He made a second glass appear in front of the sovereign, containing the same whiskey he had poured for himself. At this point, it was vitally important that he manage to establish a truce; it was necessary to prevent that small time bomb from killing the angel and thus risking a war, alienating the Princess forever and ruining everything he had set up so far. He was close to his goal; he had to start working the flanks too to get what he needed. He knew Lucifer would never trust him, but he could at least be rated as a better option than Adam for company. Which wouldn't take much; the comments they had heard so far had certainly earned him points.
- Your Majesty, let us set aside our acrimony. There is nothing that unites more than a common enemy – he began, passing him the glass.
Lucifer looked first at the whiskey and then at him with an investigative air. – Are you trying to poison me? Because I'm sorry to inform you that poison isn't enough for someone like me -.
He took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose. – No – he hissed, trying not to growl. – I am trying to lay the groundwork for a truce -.
The King grinned before bursting out laughing. – A truce? With you? – he blurted out, wiping a tear from the side of his eye. – You're funny, I'll give you that -.
- I was not joking at all, Your Majesty – he continued, moving the glass even closer to him. – It is evident that there is no love lost between us, but we could put aside our mutual antipathies for Charlotte's sake. I think you agree with me that you would prefer to see her here in Hell rather than in Heaven with him -, having concluded the sentence, he pointed to the angel who, in the meantime, with better timing than a Swiss watch, was miming obscenities of various kinds with his hands, to which Charlie responded with wide, glassy eyes.
Lucifer trembled again, finally taking the glass he had served him. – And what do you propose? If I'm not mistaken, it was your idea to make her meet that asshole and look what a great catch! -.
- ...anyway, that's why I'm never getting a blowjob from a flutist again. Honey, you have to suck, not blow! -.
With what audacity did they leave him a tongue to speak he thought, pulling his ears back, hoping that gesture would make the voice of that foul-mouthed, irritating, and nagging being less audible.
He took yet another breath. – I propose that we refrain from killing him for a little longer; we share the same revulsion for that being. What I ask is that Charlie is actually given the chance to pursue her idea for this year and, if you agree, when the time runs out, I will be very happy to help you to get rid of him -.
- I'm enough for that – he replied, sipping the whiskey but immediately making a disgusted face. – What the hell is this? It's so bitter! -.
Alastor was truly beginning to lose his patience at that point. – Whiskey, Macallan to be precise -, and he had to die to be able to afford it.
Lucifer put the glass back down, and Alastor watched in horror as he diluted it with the apple juice he had nearby, pouring it in.
A sharp hiss escaped his mouth, even attracting the attention of the other two at the table. That imbecile had completely ruined one of the best distilled spirits on the planet by diluting it with plain, ordinary supermarket apple juice. It was an unforgivable affront to every decent connoisseur and drinker in Hell, Heaven, and Earth.
- Whiskey is drunk neat! Especially a Macallan, this is an atrocity! – he was close to shouting at that point, and it had been years since that had happened to him. The last time was when Mimzy had brought some particularly noisy customers, and even then, he hadn't exactly shouted; he had merely raised the classic tone of his voice by a few decibels.
The King sipped the whole thing with satisfaction. – It tastes better this way, trust me, want to try it? -.
Husk fortunately intervened before he reached out and, instead of taking the glass, grabbed the King’s slender neck to try to choke him. – With all due respect, Your Majesty, but for once I agree with my boss. This type of alcohol is not meant to be mixed, but if you want, I'll be happy to let you try something that meets your tastes -.
Alastor regained his composure, realizing that just three days of proximity to the Princess had been enough to risk losing his temper. Almost a century in Hell had not been enough to make him so nervous, but that family had the extraordinary power to grate on his nerves almost more than Angel Dust.
Keep calm, at least he stopped thinking about killing him he told himself, as he adjusted his monocle on his nose and focused on his breathing. He stopped paying attention to the King at that point; that little pantomime had at least served its purpose, and he could breathe again; it was better to leave the thorny issue of keeping Lucifer busy to Husk.
The bartender seemed to have understood his intentions and stood in front of the seraphim while mixing various ingredients. – Trust me, Your Majesty, this definitely won't be bitter -.
He served him a Strawberry Screwdriver in a glass, the classic sickening cocktail he had wanted to remove from his menu as soon as the bartender had proposed it. He considered it an excessively simple and low-quality drink, but he had to admit to himself that the cat knew how to deal with people, especially when they had a glass of any alcoholic drink in front of them.
Lucifer observed the whole thing carefully, smelling it before drinking it and widening his sharp smile. – Holy hell! I hate alcohol, but this is good! -.
Husk leaned his elbow on the counter, tilting his head. – Thank you, Your Majesty -.
- No formalities, call me by my first name -, he then turned to Alastor, narrowing his gaze. – You, on the other hand, don't even try -.
I wouldn't have anyway he thought, giving him an arrogant smile.
The bartender took the dirty glasses to wash them and started wiping the counter with a rag. – Thank you, but I wouldn't feel comfortable given the situation -.
I should let him do this more often; he proves useful in these matters he commented, watching the two start to bond better than he would have expected.
- Your Majesty, I realize this is not exactly where you imagined your daughter, but would it be so terrible to let her try? After all, she’s bought herself another year, and if all goes well, you won't have to say goodbye to her –, Husk's tone was calm, tranquil; he definitely had a gift.
Lucifer sighed sadly. – No offense, but I've seen human souls for centuries. There's no way to redeem them; they're a lost cause. I don't know what you did to be here, but I imagine it was something terrible -.
Husk pulled back his ears but continued to speak. – Nothing worth remembering – he murmured. – But I know people who didn't have many choices in their earthly life other than to take certain directions; maybe your daughter will truly be able to do something for them -.
The seraphim fidgeted with the wedding ring he wore on his finger, his gaze lost in thought. – She’s like her mother, stubborn to the end... but I don't understand why she decided to move away from home like this -.
- Children grow up; they need to make their own mistakes. Sometimes the only thing to do is let them fall and be there to help them get back up -.
Alastor found himself strangely lost because of that sentence; his mind flew back to the memories of his earthly life. Particularly to the day he chose to climb a tree under his mother's worried gaze, but she let him. Shortly after, he fell, scraping his elbows and knees, and she was by his side almost immediately, lovingly caring for him as only she could. She hadn't reprimanded him for that bravado; she had simply told him to pay more attention and that she would always be there to help him stand up.
Damn sentimentalism he told himself, picking up the glass he had left moments before to finish drinking his whiskey. Those conversations made him nauseous and brought up things he had willingly chosen to bury. He hadn't been that child for a very long time.
- So much for mistakes – Lucifer commented, looking at him sideways.
He turned towards him, regaining his ironic demeanour. – Your Majesty, you honour me by giving me all this attention. Especially coming from someone who was the first to arrive here by making mistakes -.
- That's it, I'm going to kill you! -.
Husk stepped between them. – Your Majesty, please! -.
Charlie no longer knew how to steer the conversation. Every time she tried a topic far from anything to do with sex, Adam managed to bring it back to that. Even telling him about the flute lessons she had taken as a child led him to tell her how a flutist was not a suitable partner for certain pleasures. Behind her, she could hear quite a commotion; she was quite sure her father had repeatedly wanted to come over and lash out at Adam, and she couldn't blame him for that, but right now he seemed intent on starting a fight with Alastor again.
- Excuse me for a second – she said awkwardly to the angel, turning around in her chair to see what was happening.
She saw her father leaning over the counter trying to grab Alastor, who stood straight and serene, sipping whiskey as if he weren't worried about it at all. Poor Husk was trying to mediate. It must be said that she didn't expect the Radio Demon to maintain all that calm for so long; in fact, based on how things started, she thought they would risk a lot. Against all expectations, after the initial, rightful irritation over the unforeseen event, he had behaved admirably and even seemed to have attempted to start a conversation with her father, although the results must not have been the best given what was happening.
- The pussy dressed in red is creepy, and that voice effect is for old people – Adam blurted out, finishing yet another beer that Niffty had brought him.
She turned back, nervously stirring the straw in her glass. – Alastor is not what he seems; no one in this Hell is – she replied, stung by that rude comment.
Adam ran his hand through his hair as if to be admired. – Goldy-eyes, what's beautiful outside is beautiful inside -.
She narrowed her gaze. – Maybe you haven't noticed yet, but my eyes are not that colour -.
The angel leaned toward her to the point that he was inches from her face, staring at her in shock. – Oh, damn! You know what? You're right! I never notice; almost everyone in Heaven has them like that, and I like to look at other things –, after saying those words, he lowered his gaze towards her shirt, and she instinctively pulled back, crossing her arms to hide her chest.
- Very gallant, indeed – she whispered, exhausted.
This date had been one of the most difficult things she had faced in her existence, and she was over two hundred years old, and she didn't want to imagine what the subsequent ones would be like. It seemed that Adam possessed an almost inexhaustible reserve of sexually charged anecdotes and that he greatly enjoyed recounting them, completely ignoring any reluctance she had on the matter.
- But I'm going to keep calling you goldy-eyes anyway – he replied, leaning back against the armchair. – I’d say the date for today is over. Next week at the same time – he concluded, standing up.
That sentence brought her the first genuine smile she'd had since they sat down at that table; it was finally over. – Oh, sure – she replied serenely. – Just one thing before you go, do you happen to know when Sera will give me some news regarding the trials and information you need? So I can start organizing -.
Adam sized her up from top to bottom. – What the hell do I know, I don't deal with that pain in the ass. I just limit myself to coming here and doing the dirty work – he seasoned that sentence by running a finger across his throat to mime the gesture of slitting.
Charlie clenched her fists as she stood up. – Could you ask? At least I'll know when the year starts -.
The angel snapped his fingers, and the portal to Heaven opened in front of them. – It already started the day of the interview -.
- What?! -.
That news almost made her faint, and the scream she let out definitively attracted the attention of everyone present in the room, including Niffty, who popped out of the kitchen again. She was convinced that they would first have time to discuss the terms, the trials, the necessary information, and only once those matters were clarified would the time she requested start ticking. This way, they were taking away precious days, leaving her in limbo, and she found this absurd and cruel. Despite this, they were forcing her to see Adam as if they had already decided that marriage would be the definitive solution.
Adam shrugged, heading for the portal. – Hey, you still have three hundred and sixty days. If your idea is really that good, you'll be able to do it anyway, right? – he asked her, giving her a malicious wink before disappearing completely.
She found herself breathless, staring at the spot where he had vanished, her head completely empty. In that moment, she felt like a complete idiot for having trusted Sera's good intentions; she would probably stall until the last minute to prevent that plan from succeeding; in fact, she would try anything to prove to her that redemption was not possible. She was truly beginning to fear the trials they would propose.
- Honey, are you alright? -.
Her father's voice reached her, and she felt his hand on her shoulder, but she remained frozen in place as some tears made their way into her eyes. She felt mocked, manipulated like a poor fool.
- Chérie, do you need me to bring you something warm? -.
Alastor had arrived too and remained behind her, and her father turned in his direction with annoyance. – I'm with her; you can stay away -.
A serene laugh left the Supreme Overlord's mouth. – Your Majesty, if there is any news from my partner, I should be the first to know –.
- Stop it! – she shouted in a fit of anger, turning towards both of them nervously. – You look like two kids who just left kindergarten! Leave me alone, both of you! -.
She headed for her room, and as soon as she arrived, she closed herself inside, sliding down with her back along the door until she was sitting on the floor. She hugged her knees to her chest and tried to breathe deeply; she didn't want to start crying like a child, not again. There were surely more adult and mature ways to react to what she had just heard, but at that moment, the most sensible thing she had found was to run away to her room and lock herself in.
Not a sound came from the corridor, a sign that both her father and Alastor had decided to heed her request.
She stood up and took off her boots, then threw herself onto the bed, cuddling into the pillow to try to release the tension as best she could. It had all been too good to be true; Heaven had never fully believed in her idea, and who knew what absurdities they would propose to her to prove that souls could indeed be worthy of redemption. She couldn't think clearly; all she felt was anxiety gripping her stomach and taking her breath away. She was back to square one, only unlike before, instead of having three days of freedom, she had three hundred and sixty. What could she do at this point? She wasn't going to give up, but if Heaven didn't give her the tools she needed to prove her theory, everything would be useless.
- Charlie? Are you here? -.
Vaggie? She thought, shocked, sitting up abruptly on the bed. She couldn't believe she was really there.
She stood up, running to open the door, and found her. She hadn't seen her for two days, and having her there was yet another blow to the heart that day. As much as she tried to always put distance between them, she could never completely forget her. They could argue, get angry, but for three years she had been her confidante, her shoulder to cry on, and her rock. She couldn't forget what they had shared, even if their relationship was marked by the shadow of Vaggie's constant refusals.
The former angel tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, staring at the floor. – I was in the area... after seeing Adam at home, I thought I'd stay to see if you needed me – she murmured.
Charlie lowered her gaze in turn, gripping the wooden door she was leaning against between her fingers. – Yeah, it wasn't a great date – she replied.
- Your father told me you seemed upset and that having a friend nearby might do you good – Vaggie continued.
All that was missing was the emphasis on their relationship at that moment; that day had already tried her enough without the ultimate blow coming her way. She wanted to throw her out, but she couldn't. She had missed her more than she could explain, and her simple presence had momentarily calmed and confused her.
She stepped aside to invite her in, and Vaggie began to observe the room with curiosity. – Nice, but it's missing a bit of you -.
She let out a nervous little laugh as she closed the door. – Yeah, I think I'll have to commit to decorating it to make it less aseptic -.
Vaggie sat down on the mattress, nervously moving her feet. – So you're going to stay? Really? -.
She gritted her teeth and tried to maintain her calm once more. – Vaggie, if you're here to make me change my mind, this is really not the right day, so please leave if that's the reason for your visit -.
When did that happen? When did their conversations start turning into arguments almost immediately? And above all, since when was she able to be so cold to Vaggie? Perhaps the fact that she hadn't felt supported by the person who had played such a large part in her life had been too much for that relationship built on a knife's edge, and now those years of pain had come back, breaking what had been there. In any case, she probably would never be completely able to say goodbye to her. She still found her beautiful, perfect, the only one who always managed to make her waver.
Vaggie flinched and raised her palms. – No, Charlie, seriously! I just wanted to make sure you were okay... you didn't even reply to my message –
And what should I have replied? she asked herself, hugging her arms to her chest and turning the other way.
She truly didn't understand what Vaggie expected from her after everything that had happened; above all, she didn't understand what she really wanted from her. – I've been very busy, although at this point I'll have to wait for news from Heaven -.
- Yes... your father told me that when he left -.
She rolled her eyes. – I see you maintain the policy of talking without consulting me -.
Her friend glared at her. – Now you're exaggerating, Charlie, we're just very worried about you! -.
- And I'm worried about not being able to save them! – she shouted at that point, putting her hands in her hair. – I'm afraid I won't save Angel. He really hopes so, you know? We talked about it, and I'm risking disappointing him because I got into this thing without perhaps thinking it through enough, without considering that they could trick me! -.
Vaggie got up from the bed and hugged her suddenly, taking the breath from her lungs. She found herself hugging her back uncontrollably, burying her nose in her hair, which smelled as always of lavender, and feeling enveloped by the warmth of her body. It was strange how that hug was enough to make her feel strangely safe, as if she needed nothing else. Despite being shorter than her, she felt completely wrapped up by the former angel's body and let her hold her, caress her, while she only felt the desire to kiss her as she had that night. But she didn't want to ruin that perfect moment, not when she finally had her so close after wanting it for so long.
- Charlie, I'm so sorry – Vaggie whispered, stroking her hair. – I... I just wish I could understand you more -.
She wished that too; it would have been so wonderful to have her by her side in that undertaking, to feel supported by her in the same way Alastor was doing. Why did he succeed and she didn't? Theoretically, he was the cruel one, the one everyone considered a monster, whereas Vaggie had been an angel, a good and pure creature despite being an Exorcist.
She slowly pulled away, trying to push back the lump in her throat. – You should go now... I need to try and get organized and figure out how to proceed -.
Her friend's eye widened, but she kept her arms around her shoulders, and for the first time since they had known each other, she felt there was something wrong with that gesture, something strangely cold and distant. She was experiencing a real emotional roller coaster, and she only wanted to push Vaggie away; she felt the need to talk to Alastor right now. It was necessary for them to organize themselves; she needed it to calm down. He would surely know what to do; he was the most prepared person she knew.
- Charlie, I just want us to clear things up – her friend tried again, while she placed her hands on Vaggie's forearms to move her.
She tried to push back the urge to push her onto that bed and breathed. – I need to talk to Alastor; we need to organize -.
- Chérie, did you call me? -.
How did he do that? she thought, shocked, hearing the demon's voice just outside the door and being completely caught off guard. Vaggie pulled away completely at that point and let out some irritated grumbles.
- Pendejo – she hissed angrily.
Charlie turned and opened the door, finding the Radio Demon waiting with his staff clutched between his crimson claws. – I'm happy you called me; I didn't come to disturb you earlier to respect your space – he then glanced at Vaggie. – I tried to explain that to your friend, but she preferred to ignore me -.
Charlie let him pass to enter, while praying that those two wouldn't immediately start arguing, even though Alastor seemed particularly serene at that moment. – Thank you for your thoughtfulness; I was just telling Vaggie that we have many things to discuss regarding our project -.
- Since when did it become our project? I thought it was yours – her friend commented acidly.
Alastor turned to the former angel, widening his sharp smile. – Charlie gives me too much credit; I am merely an aid to her idea and a happy participant in the project -.
She couldn't help but smile at him for choosing to make it clear that the idea was hers, even though she always tried to involve him by speaking in the plural. She found the thing strangely comforting, as was his presence at that moment.
Vaggie crossed her arms over her chest, putting on a sarcastic look. – You want to be redeemed? When was the last time you did something for others? -.
Alastor responded by tapping his chest and raising his chin. – I recently prevented a murder -.
Charlie's eyes widened upon hearing that sentence. – Really? And how? -.
The Overlord shrugged, looking at his fingernails. – Thanks to self-control -.
A bead of sweat formed along her temples as her smile faded and turned more into a grimace of sad resignation. It wasn't much, but at least it was a start. She imagined that Adam's presence had particularly irritated him, and the fact that he had maintained his calm was no small feat.
- Well, those are steps forward – she tried to say with a nervous chuckle.
He turned back towards her with a pirouette and bowed his head slightly. – Thank you, chérie, I’m glad you appreciate it -.
Vaggie came close, trying to stroke her shoulder. – Listen, Charlie, I know it's a difficult time, but you've been through a lot these past few days. How about taking a few days to rest before starting again? Maybe it will help clear your head. You really wanted to go to that beach outside Pentagram City -.
She looked down and sighed. It was true, she really wanted to go there, but in reality, it would just be another way to try to spend time alone with Vaggie to seek another chance. At that moment, it seemed like a childish and stupid idea, and above all, it was not the time to indulge in such foolish trivialities.
Alastor stepped between them again, observing her carefully. – For once, I agree with your friend. Besides, it's been a long time since my staff or I took a well-deserved vacation -.
Charlie stared at him, dumbfounded, with her mouth half-open. – But... we have so much to do, especially given recent events -.
- And anyway, you weren't invited – Vaggie hissed, narrowing her eye to a slit.
The Radio Demon smiled at her, completely ignoring the other. – Chérie, it's understandable that you are upset, and a tired mind does not reason well. Moreover, a relaxing place could help build the trust that you proclaimed with such ardour this morning -.
Why did he manage to make even the craziest idea appealing? Until a moment ago, she was desperate, destroyed, and now, thanks to his words, she felt strangely comforted, as if his mere presence could give her the help she felt she needed. Perhaps it was thanks to his constant calm and his serene control of the situation that she could see the light at the end of the tunnel.
He placed his clawed fingers on her shoulder. – Everything will be fine, chérie, we will solve it together -.
An electric shock ran through her body when he said those words, accompanied by that gesture. His crimson eyes were focused only on her and seemed completely disinterested in the huffs that kept coming from Vaggie, and for a second, it seemed to her that they were completely alone.
She shook her head and forced a smile. – Oh, thank you, Alastor, really – she murmured. – But are you sure you can close? I wouldn't want to cause you excessive trouble -.
He took his hand away, waving it in the air. – Nonsense! Tomorrow I will organize everything; let me prove that I am trustworthy -.
Vaggie rolled her good eye to the sky. – So we have to take him too? -.
Charlie sighed, resigned to the fact that it would take all her positivity to prevent her friend from arguing with the Radio Demon. However, it was truly an unmissable opportunity; until Heaven gave her instructions, she was somewhat free, and that short trip of a few days could help them build stronger relationships; perhaps a relaxed environment would also help with the questionnaires.
- Yes, Vaggie – she replied, smiling at both of them. – We're all going.
Notes:
Good morning, everyone!
Alastor surprises Charlie by telling her that he will be very happy to accompany her on this vacation, but what are his intentions? I admit, I had a lot of fun writing the mini-fights between Adam, Lucifer, and Alastor. I think I will include more and I hope you appreciated them too!
Charlie, on the other hand, realizes that she truly appreciates the Radio Demon's presence very much and that in some way he is always able to help her when she is in difficulty. Who between the two will be the first to give in to sentimentalism?
As always, I thank anyone who reads or reviews this story <3
See you soon!
Chapter Text
He couldn't say how long it had been since he'd taken a vacation, although the trip to Alastor couldn't exactly be considered a true pleasure trip. He had been more or less forced by the situation to invite himself along to prevent the princess's annoying little friend from regaining ground and risking snatching her from his clutches.
He observed the brown, dark leather suitcase resting on the bed, still completely empty, with perplexity. He was so unaccustomed to that kind of frivolity that he didn't even know what he should feel besides the annoyance it caused him. He consoled himself by thinking that it would only be for a couple of days and that he had booked a place he knew very well thanks to Rosie, who had taken the trouble to contact the owner on his behalf. The area in the south of Pentagram City had what could very fancifully be called a beach, although it looked more like a lake populated by marine-looking souls. It divided the Pride Ring from the Envy Ring, and in fact, offshore of that dark pool of water, there were several checkpoints to prevent the damned from trying to swim across it to escape the annual Extermination.
His shadow scanned what he kept in the dresser and showed him various items of clothing. He vigorously shook his head as soon as he saw it pull out a red and white striped jumpsuit-swimsuit that he didn't even remember owning.
- I won’t need it, I have no intention of mingling with such trifles - he said in a serious tone, eliciting a sort of snort from the shadow in response.
He certainly wouldn't mingle with the noisy bathers of that place; he would retreat to some beach kiosk and maybe walk along the water’s edge, but nothing more. He found it pathetic that he had to embark on yet another madness, but at this point, he was no longer surprised by the absurdities that kept happening to him. Charlie was a magnet for trouble, and he had brought her into his home, but power had a price and he knew it all too well. The fact that he had allowed that boor Adam to set foot in his establishment had, however, earned him many points in Charlie’s eyes, and she hadn’t stopped thanking him. He could have asked for something in return, but he had voluntarily chosen not to, it was a way to make her believe that he was completely disinterested in anything and to obtain a pact at the opportune moment.
He wearily massaged his temples, hoping that moment would arrive as soon as possible to save his poor nerves.
- What do you need all those suitcases for?! We’re only going for two days! - Husk's irritated voice from downstairs brought him back to reality, realizing it was time to leave.
He looked at the small suitcase one more time and finally threw in the first things his shadow passed him, including the jumpsuit-swimsuit that it seemed determined to bring along.
- I’d like to point out that we’re not really going on vacation, we have an important task - he said curtly, while the shadow responded with a shrug and headed for the door.
Usually, his shadow had never behaved that way, it was often as cold and detached as he was (after all, it was an extension of him), but that day it seemed particularly excited and agitated.
I hope it's not something contagious he thought, even more irritated by that childish attitude. He went down the stairs and saw Angel Dust struggling to drag two large suitcases along the corridor, holding them with all four arms. He began to understand the reason for all of Husk's irritation.
He vanished into the shadows to reappear downstairs in the hotel's lounge, where Charlie was already ready with a small dark trolley bag and in much simpler attire than her usual clothes. She was wearing a floral-patterned dress in shades of light blue and her hair was tied up in a high bun with some messy strands falling out, and a pair of sunglasses on her head.
As soon as she saw him, she gave him a warm smile, but her expression quickly changed. - Alastor… won’t you be hot? -.
He examined himself carefully, adjusting his coat on his shoulders. – Chérie, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think I’ll have any such problems, and besides, the climate isn't much different from here -.
Charlie nervously bit her index fingernail, looking everywhere and deliberately avoiding his gaze. - Yes, but we’ll be at the beach. The sun there is much stronger -.
- Thank you again, but there’s no need to worry - he replied, walking over to her and giving her a few friendly pats on the head.
Various curses came from the kitchen, and Angel Dust emerged from the doorway, looking exhausted and tired. - So, how do we get to Bermuda Beach? If you say by bus, I’m hanging myself! -.
I’d help you hang yourself if I only could he thought, annoyed, watching him drag the blindingly pink trolley bags into the room. Husk appeared shortly after with a duffel bag and Niffty immediately behind him, with no luggage.
Charlie looked at her with concern. - Niffty, do you need help with your suitcase? -.
In response, she shook her head. – No, I don’t need anything -.
Angel eyed her, perplexed. - We’re going swimming; don't you need a swimsuit? -.
The little one put on a thoughtful look before answering with a sharp smile. - I’m already wearing it -.
- Don’t bother trying; I already did - Husk stated flatly, leaving his top hat under the counter and heading for the door.
Alastor bowed forward, letting the princess pass and watching her walk cheerfully toward the exit. She seemed to be the only one genuinely enthusiastic about the trip, although Angel Dust had strangely not caused any problems with the idea, thrilled at the thought of being able to get a little extra space from his oppressive boss. Alastor believed that this two-day trip would give him a chance to best manipulate the princess by finding her in a relaxed environment, or at least that was what he kept telling himself to avoid sending everyone to hell at that very moment.
Calm down, it's only a couple of days he wearily told himself as they waited for the princess's friend to arrive. If he had let them go alone, it would have been a great risk and preventing Charlie from doing so would have made her suspicious, so he had opted for the lesser evil. Taking part in this latest folly, which was already getting on his nerves.
- Where are we going to sleep? I haven’t followed much of this business - Angel commented, meanwhile starting to text on that hateful gadget he kept carrying everywhere as if it were another of his equally hateful appendages.
Charlie turned to him. - You said it’s called Styx Shores, right? -.
He nodded, satisfied. - It was warmly recommended to me by my dear friend Rosie many times, the owner is an old acquaintance of hers -.
Angel started typing on his phone, then froze. - Wow! Not bad - he commented, scrolling through the images. - I had been to the 'Blood Bath' and 'Get Fried'.” -.
Two actions I would love to undertake right now he thought, watching the princess's friend arrive, and they exchanged the same hostile glare. With Lucifer, he was forced to maintain at least an appearance of reverence, but with her, he could safely let all the antipathy he felt show. On the other hand, it would have seemed strange if he had liked everyone in the princess's circle, and as she had remarked a few days earlier, she had liked the fact that he disagreed.
- Hi - she stated flatly. - So we're all really going after all -.
He gave her a falsely gentle smile, narrowing his eyes. - As planned -.
Charlie stood between the two, putting on one of those smiles he had now learned to recognize as completely forced. - Ok! How about we go catch the bus? -.
- We won’t be moving by bus chérie - he replied, smiling at her and snapping his fingers.
A sparkling Rolls Royce Phantom in a lively red color with a black convertible top appeared in front of them. The interior was dark leather, and it could comfortably accommodate all of them, considering Niffty would take up no more than half a seat.
Niffty didn't wait a second and, in her usual quick manner, sprinted onto the back seats, while Angel Dust loaded his luggage in the back. He approached the passenger door and opened it, signalling for the princess to take her seat, but the walking flatworm got in the way, causing the first nervous twitch in his eye that he would have from that moment on.
- I get carsick, I’m sitting in front - he said, throwing himself into the seat.
How I’d love to drown you he thought, gripping the door handle to avoid gripping his neck.
Charlie gave him an amiable smile. - I can sit in the back, I don’t mind -.
Alastor closed the door, deliberately risking slamming the porno star's hand in it, who responded with other annoying curses.
- Fortunately, the journey won’t be very long. Will you drive, Husker? -.
The cat demon stared at him wide-eyed, his red eyebrows arched in a puzzled expression. - Me? -.
- Do you see anyone else named Husker? - he asked, narrowing his gaze.
This was not the time to irritate him with other idiotic questions. Making him the driver was his veiled way of reminding him of the subservient position he held.
Husk sighed, weariness tossing his bag into the trunk and taking the wheel. He settled in the back seats, the princess sitting in the centre and separated from her friend by Niffty. The small cyclops sometimes seemed to read his mind and he gave her a knowing look, to which she responded by widening her sharp smile.
- I’ll put on the music - Angel began, fiddling with the radio knobs.
Husk started the engine with a huff. - Keep those hands off the steering wheel! -.
Charlie leaned forward between the two, resting her hands on the seats. - We could let Alastor choose, after all, he should be the music expert -.
The porno star turned around, irritated. - I don’t like old people’s music -.
A whistle escaped his mouth and he pulled his ears back, irritated. - One needs a good ear to appreciate it, of course, you wouldn’t like it -.
- Alright, what if I choose? - the princess intervened again, leaning forward and starting to turn the knobs herself.
Vaggie sighed. - Just as long as it’s not Verosika Mayday again, you’ve made me listen to her songs millions of times -.
For once, a wise sentence Alastor thought, as he, too, deeply hated that so-called singer whom he detested from the bottom of what remained of his heart. The princess continued to lean forward and Husk suddenly slammed on the brakes because of a traffic light. He grabbed her dress with one hand before her head could crash disastrously into the dashboard, pulling her back to sit composed.
- Chérie be careful, we wouldn't want to risk having to cancel the vacation because of an accident - he commented, observing her.
Her cheeks had become pinker again, and she stared at him with the same eyes a fish would have in a glass bowl. - Th-thanks - she stammered in response.
He only realized at that moment that he still had his hand tightly wrapped around the fabric of her dress at the level of her back, and he was quick to let go. He hadn't even noticed that he had remained in that position for longer than necessary. His stomach started sending him confused signals again when he released his grip, and to bring his hand back, he brushed the princess's bare shoulder, not to mention that she had her thigh pressed against his leg due to the limited space. It was the first time he hadn't immediately realized that he had been in contact with someone physically, and this was a disconcerting novelty for him. Usually, he immediately avoided those touches, but this time it had seemed strangely natural. He also moved his leg, crossing it over the other so that they no longer touched, even though the limited space with the seat in front made that position particularly uncomfortable and difficult to manage.
Charlie noticed that he had moved and seemed almost disappointed. - If you want, we can squeeze together, so you’re more comfortable -.
Why is she worried? What does she care? He wondered, observing the frantic movements she made with her hands as she spoke and started biting her index fingernail again. If she kept doing that, she would end up destroying those thin fingers and he just wanted to slap the back of her hand to stop her from continuing that rather annoying gesture. Her fingers were so delicate that it would be a shame to ruin them.
But what are you thinking? he jolted himself, blinking a couple of times and turning his gaze toward the road.
- There’s no need, I’m comfortable like this -.
Husk started leaning on the horn because of a demon on a scooter occupying the entire lane. - I’ll run you over if you don’t get out of the road! -.
Angel scratched his ear, making him even more nervous. - I’d say a vacation will do you good, you look very stressed -.
- Stop touching me or I’ll make you get out! -.
Alastor massaged the bridge of his nose, while taking deep breaths. He felt like making them all get out and running them all over, even backing up, but it would have been decidedly counterproductive. He could, however, console himself with that thought and stopped forcing the smile while images of the car's occupants lying under the wheels, bones breaking as he passed, and eyeballs exploding flashed through his mind.
Ah, this would be a nice way to start a vacation he thought, resting his head on the seat and half-closing his eyelids. He chose to isolate himself from the conversations he was hearing at that moment, pretending to be asleep so that no one would dare to disturb him. He needed to recharge his batteries before being forced to speak again while maintaining a civil tone of voice, and that sort of meditation was fundamentally important to avoid killing them all. He succeeded so well that he probably genuinely dozed off for a few minutes until an intense smell of strawberries and red berries hit his nostrils.
He slightly opened his eyes and noticed that almost everyone had succumbed to sleep since they had woken up very early to arrive in the morning, and Husk seemed to have relaxed to the point that he was driving with his elbow resting outside the window and a cigarette in his mouth. He turned to see where that intense smell was coming from and realized that the princess had also fallen asleep, and her head had slumped onto his shoulder; her bun was right at the level of his nose, spreading that perfume.
All his efforts to keep her away were always and constantly ruined with disarming ease, and he found himself staring at her as if to study her. Her black, plump lips were slightly parted, and she was breathing sweetly, emitting slight hisses every time she inhaled. Her eyelids moved quickly as if she were dreaming. Her hands were in her lap, and she seemed to have tried her best not to lean on him too much, but gravity had ruined her plans. He stretched out his hand to push her away with a finger, but for a single moment, he hesitated and involuntarily found himself bringing his nose closer to her hair which was so close at that moment. It was definitely the same smell he had sensed as a child, that of his mother's tarts. At that moment, he felt it really well, carried towards him by the wind entering the car due to the lowered roof, and that perfume managed to cover everything else, dragging him into a strange sense of calm.
He closed his eyes and took the last deep breath, before reopening them and pushing her on the cheek with his index finger to move her from his shoulder. She slumped forward with her head dangling but continued to sleep.
Charlie was stunned when they arrived at the beach. It had been many years since she had gone there, so she hadn't seen how it had changed over time, nor did she have any idea that a place like the Styx Shores could exist.
It was a hotel in a style that recalled the Greek, with load-bearing columns encircling the entire building as if it were one of the temples that humans erected for pagan gods. The name stood out on the façade in large golden characters, the white of the building contrasting with the bright pink of the sand and the dark green water. It faced directly onto a private beach, populated by only a few demons, perhaps because it wasn't high season.
Angel put on his glasses and immediately spotted the deck chairs. - Does anyone want to take my stuff up to the room? I want to go straight to the beach -.
Vaggie massaged her temples. - Angel, we need to check in, and we need you for that -.
She looked at Alastor to try and figure out how he felt about the situation, but he was an impenetrable mask. His gaze was fixed on the hotel entrance, his eyelids half-closed and his smile tight. He hadn't spoken much during the trip, partly because almost everyone had passed out shortly after, so he probably hadn't even had the chance to. He hadn't seemed particularly reluctant to the idea of a vacation, but something told her he certainly wouldn't let loose just because of it; on the contrary, she thought it was highly likely that he would disappear very soon and wouldn't even come to the beach.
Niffty shot like lightning straight towards the entrance, leaving the others behind. Alastor led the way, walking with his inseparable microphone clutched in his clawed fingers; he seemed at ease wherever he went, and once again she envied the confidence he never seemed to lose.
At the reception desk was a demon with deep blue skin, a long white beard, and two pairs of purple, pupil-less eyes. Gills ran down his neck, and he wore on his head what looked exactly like a diver's helmet filled with water, and Charlie deduced he wasn't meant to be on dry land for too long.
As soon as he saw them arrive, he widened his eyes and stared at Alastor. - Well, look who's back on this side of the pentagram! -.
Alastor tilted his head and broadened his smile. - Keelan, it’s a pleasure to see you again -.
Vaggie crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. - Just our luck, ending up in a place populated by his friends -.
Keelan turned to the former angel, as some bubbles formed inside the helmet he wore. - To call us friends would be excessive; let's say we have an affinity for the same person -.
Charlie looked at Alastor for an explanation, but he ignored her and headed to the reception desk. - I know Rosie informed you of our arrival, and I hope she also told you that we have an important personality with us - he motioned for her to come closer and pushed her gently by the back towards the demon, who observed her carefully, leaning over the counter and widening his luminous, round eyes. - Allow me to introduce you to Princess Morningstar, heir to the throne of Hell -.
The demon looked at her, then offered his hand, which was laced between the fingers with a membrane a lighter shade of blue than his skin, which up close looked scaly like a fish's. - What an honour! Welcome to my hotel, Princess! -.
She in turn squeezed his slick hand and gave him a cordial smile. - The pleasure is mine and thank you for finding us rooms with such short notice -.
He waved his hands excitedly. – If I had known sooner, I would have reserved different rooms for you; in fact, if you wish, I'd be happy to change them immediately -.
- No, don't bother! -.
Angel popped up behind her. - Let him bother - he whispered maliciously, but was immediately pulled away by Vaggie, who dragged him back.
Alastor approached the owner. - Regarding payment, when should we settle the bill? -.
Keelan narrowed his eyes and smiled, showing his pointed, pearly teeth. - I could decide to let you stay for free as my guests, in exchange for having my business cards on the counter of your establishment -.
The radio demon hissed and pulled his ears back. - As I've told you many times, I don't advertise the competition -.
- Always the same, we have two different businesses and we're in two opposite zones! Rosie doesn't make such a fuss - he commented, adjusting the helmet on his head.
- But I am not Rosie, you above all should remember that -.
That phrase seemed to freeze Keelan, who finally sighed in defeat, taking the keys with black seashell charms and passing them to him. - Here, disappear. I'm only offering this because Rosie is genuinely a dear woman, while you truly never change! -.
Alastor smiled cheerfully, taking the keys. – Merci -.
Charlie waited until he was far enough away, then leaned towards Keelan. - Give them to me, I'll convince him to put them out -.
She felt guilty that he had offered the stay only because she was the princess and in virtue of his friendship with Rosie; therefore, she felt obliged to at least try to do him that favour. She was certain that with a little more calm, she could manage to convince Alastor to put them at least on the bar counter of the Scarlet Wave.
The owner smiled kindly at her. - You are very sweet, but that one is more stubborn than a rock. I know him well enough to know he'd rip the helmet off my head again rather than do me a favour -.
That's why he was so agitated, she thought sadly. Alastor had probably earned the reputation of a bloodthirsty Overlord, but she still found it difficult to reconcile those two images. It was obvious he hadn't been a saint either in life or in Hell, but with her, he had always been so affable and in his own way gentle that she just couldn't see him in that light. He was certainly stubborn and disliked unforeseen events, but she was certain there was much more beneath that exterior.
She extended her hand towards him. - Trust me, I'll find a way -.
Keelan sighed, shaking his head, and handed her a stack of intense white business cards with gold embossed writing bearing the hotel's name and address - Here you are, Princess, and enjoy your stay. For anything, you can find me here at all hours, barring emergencies -.
She quickly greeted him and rejoined her friends, who were already heading towards the elevators while Alastor distributed the keys.
- Husk, what room number do you have? - Angel asked as they waited for the elevator.
The bartender looked at the number. – 210 -.
Her friend sadly groaned. - 408, what a pain -.
Vaggie turned to her. - I have 302, you? -.
Alastor passed her another key. - Charlie has 615, top floor -.
The former angel glared at him. - She can speak perfectly well, you don't always have to do it for her -.
Charlie took the key and tried to smile to smooth over the situation. - And what room do you have? - she asked the demon.
He turned to Niffty, holding the keys hidden in the palm of his hand. - Chérie, choose -.
The little cyclops observed his closed hands for a few moments before choosing the left one and looking at her room number. - Two-oh-nine! -.
Husk rolled his eyes. - Please, don't wake me up in the middle of the night here too -.
She wanted to ask why Niffty went to wake up Husk, but Alastor showed her the number written on the seashell. - 614, we will be next-door neighbours -.
- Clearly - Vaggie grumbled, annoyed.
She patted her shoulder as they got into the elevator. - This time it was a coincidence, you saw yourself that Niffty chose before him -.
They all split up onto the various floors, and when they were alone, total silence fell. She kept glancing at him covertly, while keeping the business cards Keelan had given her well hidden in a dress pocket. It wasn't the right time to talk about it; better to wait until they got back home when the situation might have improved thanks to the relaxation brought by the vacation.
The sharp sound of the elevator signalled that they had arrived at their destination, and they walked down the corridor to their respective rooms.
Alastor turned to her before putting the key in the lock. - Chérie, if it's not a problem for you, I would like to rest a bit before coming down, unless you need my presence -.
Charlie shook her head. - No, don't worry, I think we all need to settle in today, anyway. Maybe I'll try to organize something for this evening -.
He nodded in response. - Very well, then I'll see you later -.
She watched him close the door behind him and stood for a few seconds with the key in her hand, staring at the wooden door in front of her. The truth was, she would have liked him to actively participate in this vacation, but she realized that maybe this wasn't an environment he would appreciate. She had immediately noticed the fact that he hadn't changed or put on something more comfortable for a beach vacation, but she didn't want to probe too much so as not to annoy him. In any case, she had brought the shared sheet with her; maybe this could be an opportunity to see him in a different environment and evaluate him better, discovering other things about him in the meantime.
She entered the room and found it particularly welcoming in its simplicity. The bed was surrounded at the four corners by columns supporting a semi-transparent veil, and not far away was a dark green daybed. The wooden floor must have suffered from the salty air given the scratches on it, but it was still very beautiful, as were the statues depicting various human gods she had read about, scattered throughout the room.
She had always been fascinated by the ability of humans to give so many forms to deities, considering that not even they in Hell knew its true physicality. As far as she knew, it could easily be mutable, just like those white statues positioned in the niches. She had never asked her father anything about it, because he didn't seem inclined to ever discuss it again.
The bathroom was not separate from the rest of the room and had a large, raised rectangular bathtub made of white marble. There certainly wasn't the attention to detail she had seen in Alastor's establishment, but it was definitely a very cozy place. From the window, she could see a small balcony overlooking the columns that encircled the façade and gave her a view of the sea; in the distance, she could almost see the sky changing colour, becoming purplish the closer it got to the Envy Ring.
She went out and enjoyed the scent of the salty air, leaning on the parapet with her elbows. A noise made her turn, and she saw Alastor also stepping out onto the adjacent terrace. He must not have noticed her because his gaze was fixed straight ahead, a glass containing some drink she couldn't recognize in his hand. She noticed he was no longer wearing his overcoat or his bow tie. His red shirt was unbuttoned down to his chest, revealing the scars she had only partially seen. The cuffs were rolled up, exposing the dark skin of his forearm.
She found herself wondering if it was because of those scars that he had chosen not to undress, and she felt a deep tenderness for that idea. Maybe he wasn't comfortable showing them, especially since she had understood right away that he wasn't someone who liked to show his weaknesses. His soft ears vibrated with every gust of wind, and he maintained his smile, but it seemed tired and weary.
She would have stayed there staring, but her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she immediately rushed inside so as not to be caught spying like a peeping tom. From what she was reading, Angel and Vaggie were demanding her attention.
She turned towards the window one last time but abandoned the idea. It wasn't time for that kind of question yet; she would have to wait.
Sooner or later, I'll find out what happened to you.
They all went down to the beach except for Alastor, who stayed in his room exactly as he had anticipated to her. Angel immediately threw himself onto the deckchair, slathering on tons of tanning lotion.
- I'm telling you for the thousandth time that souls don't tan, you bought that stuff for nothing – Husk commented flatly, as he opened the umbrella to shelter from the sun.
Angel raised his glasses, looking at him with mischief. – We'll see about that, big kitty cat -.
Vaggie sat down next to her, while Niffty had already started digging a hole in the pink sand like a little mole in search of some precious treasure, tossing it towards her friend who started yelling as a result.
She took off her cover-up, remaining in the red one-piece swimsuit she had brought for the occasion and almost immediately launching herself towards the cold water, but she stopped as soon as it reached her stomach and pulled it in while starting to shiver.
- Damn, it's so cold – she stammered, hugging her arms around her waist and rubbing them with her hands.
Vaggie arrived next to her shortly after, immediately diving in as if nothing were wrong and starting to swim. She remained staring blankly for several seconds watching her swim, finding her beautiful every single time. She wore a shorts two-piece, and she thought about how good she would look in a different bikini, but immediately chased the thought away and gathered courage, letting herself sink to the bottom and being submerged by the water up to her head.
There, the silence was perfect. The only thing that interrupted it was the beating of her heart and the soft rush of the waves breaking on the shore. She had always loved the water, the sensation it gave her when she sank into it and could lose herself in her thoughts without hearing anything but herself.
She opened her eyes and observed the sandy seabed changing colour, becoming darker with every increase in depth. She took a few strokes underwater before resurfacing and taking a long breath.
Vaggie was a short distance from her, smiling happily. – If you move, you'll warm up sooner – she told her, referring to the obvious shivers that had formed along her arms.
- Yes, you're right – she murmured, as she sank back down.
She should have been thinking of a way to make that vacation a useful moment for everyone to open up; instead, she could only wonder if that could finally be a way to have her longed-for chance with Vaggie, to at least recover that friendship that at that moment seemed to have cooled down entirely, leaving her sad and bitter. She watched her from under the water move fast like a fish on the surface, her skin caressed by the water in the same way she would have wanted to do at that moment.
She resurfaced again, pushing back the hair that had fallen across her eyes and seeing a sudden splash of water launched by her friend coming toward her.
- Hey! – she exclaimed, amused, doing the same in return.
They found themselves playing like two children, getting closer and closer, and when she felt their legs brush against each other, they both froze, staring at each other. Without thinking, she reached out a hand, moving the lock of hair that had stuck to the patch she always wore over her eye and tucking it behind her ear, while her friend remained still, staring intently at her.
If she hadn't been certain that she would end up ruining everything once again, she would have tried to kiss her at that very instant.
Her breath hitched in her chest when Vaggie placed her hand over the one she still held on her hair, then resting her cheek against it. – I’m happy you agreed, even though that one came too -.
Charlie felt her heart beating in slow motion in her chest to the point where she had to do her best not to sink into the water like a stone. – Yes, I’m happy too -.
That moment was interrupted by Niffty's sudden passage between them, who was chasing a poor fish until she managed to grab it with her teeth, proudly showing it to them.
- Got it – she mumbled because of her full mouth, the poor animal squirming to escape her.
She stared at her bewildered, not knowing quite how to react to that sight.
- Just take a dip! -.
Angel's voice reached them, and they saw him intent on trying to drag Husk toward the water by holding one of his legs, while the bartender dug his claws into the ground and bristled his fur in a desperate attempt not to go.
- No fucking way! I hate water, I remind you I'm half-cat! -.
Charlie laughed at the scene, separating definitively from her friend. – Maybe I should intervene -.
Vaggie nodded, following her. – I’ll help you -.
They reached the shore, where Angel had now given up on the goal and was sitting on the water's edge, only dipping his legs in, his purple swimsuit almost blending with the sand.
Husk was shaking the sand off his fur and watched the waves approach and retreat with curiosity and fear, moving away every single time they got too close.
She approached the bartender, being careful not to touch him since significant drops of water were still falling from her hair that could irritate him quite a bit. – If you don't want to go swimming, we could do something else, how about that? -.
He snapped out of it and nervously adjusted his Bermuda shorts. – I used to like it, but now with this body it's… an instinctive refusal – he murmured sadly.
Here was the little opening she was looking for, and she immediately took advantage of it. – Was the sea like here? -.
Husk smiled sadly, looking at the water as if lost in memories. – No, princess, it was much more beautiful… like everything -.
She had only heard vague stories about Earth, but no one had ever stopped to describe it openly to her, also because the souls who arrived in Hell seemed to want to forget their previous life in every aspect at all costs.
- What was it like? – she asked again, sitting down on the ground.
Husk followed her shortly after, nervously twitching his tail. – The water was transparent, but because of the sky, it always looked blue. When it was particularly clean you could see the bottom and… it smelled of salt and summer -.
Charlie found herself imagining it and thought how much she would have wanted to see the blue sky, the transparent water, that smell he was telling her about. Even at that moment, she could smell the sea, but it seemed completely different from what he had just described, that salty water had a scent of seaweed and sulphur rising from it. Something she was used to and that brought back joyful moments of her childhood, but which apparently had nothing to do with what was on Earth.
Vaggie and Angel, in the meantime, were busy helping Niffty build a sandcastle, so she enjoyed that chat with the bartender, who usually seemed very grumpy, a little longer.
She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. – And you don’t like it here? -.
He shrugged. – It’s just not the same thing, but I’ve seen worse shit in my life -.
- What kind? – she asked curiously, turning toward him.
At that point, however, Husk seemed to snap out of it and stood up abruptly, dusting the sand off his swimsuit. – Nothing relevant –.
- I didn't mean to upset you, I just want to get to know you better to figure out how to help you – she murmured sadly.
Husk's red eyebrows arched in an almost surprised expression, but he quickly recovered his flat demeanour. – Fine, but I don’t want to talk about it now, if it’s not a problem. Maybe sometime later, princess -.
Charlie had no intention of losing heart and stood up in turn. – I can accept that but now let’s fight your instinct! -.
She grabbed him by the shoulders and suddenly pushed him toward the water as he stiffened and tried to plant his feet on the ground to avoid it at all costs, even emitting a few feline hisses as she got too close. His fur was bristling to the point of being completely shot up in the air, but everything ended the moment she managed to get him submerged, though not without some effort.
Suddenly he relaxed and touched the surface of the water with his soft paws as if he were amazed that he could do it.
- See? If you take a shower, you can do this too – she said, satisfied, resting her clenched fists on her hips and watching him immerse himself more and more.
Husk turned toward her with a half-smile. – Thank you – he murmured, and then disappeared from her sight, beginning to swim out.
That sight warmed her heart, and for the first time since she had started that project, she thought she would succeed. All she had to do was listen to them, understand them, grasp what they had lost and what they wanted to recover. It occurred to her that maybe getting more information about human life wouldn't be a bad idea, perhaps she would learn something useful to carry out her idea.
- Niffty, damn it! That took us forever – Angel yelled.
She turned toward them and saw that the little demon was jumping on the castle, amused, destroying everything and emitting high-pitched giggles.
- Let's destroy the castle! Occupy their lands and set fire to their fields! -.
Vaggie stared at her with her single eye wide open. – Okay… who’s up for a game of Beach Volleyball? -.
At yet another missed ball, Charlie left the game to the others and went back towards the beach, heading to the kiosk. It was a Hawaiian-style wooden structure, totally different from the type of furniture reserved inside the hotel. Some demons were sitting at the clear plastic tables chatting, but she immediately noticed Alastor sitting at the counter.
He was there peacefully reading a book, well sheltered from the sun and with a serene smile on his face. He seemed less tense than when she had seen him on the balcony, and she approached him.
- Hey! You finally came down – she greeted him with a smile, taking a seat next to him.
The demon looked up from the book, making it disappear with a snap of his fingers. – I deemed it appropriate not to leave you too alone, besides, I think we should talk about the plans you have for the future – he commented, then called the bartender’s attention. – A Virgin Colada for the young lady, merci -.
She smiled at him gratefully. – Thank you for remembering my tastes and my problem with alcohol – she chuckled, resting her forearms on the raw wooden counter.
Alastor bowed his head slightly in response. – So, do you have something in mind? -.
She shrugged, as the bartender handed her cocktail and she began to play with the straw. – Actually, talking with Husk made me realize that I know almost nothing about the human world and maybe it could be useful for me to understand it more. I mean, after all, you weren't born in Hell like me, you arrived here after life, and so if I knew the reasons I could help you more -.
The Radio Demon listened carefully, his ears twitching with every word she spoke. – I understand, even though I don't think everyone would be so happy to talk about their past -.
- Like you? – she asked to tease him, meanwhile biting into the slice of pineapple that was resting on the edge of the glass.
Alastor seemed to freeze for a second, but gave her an ironic smile, tilting his head to the side. – Chérie, as I've already told you, regarding me you should be more interested in our future than my past. Furthermore, the human world is not so different from Hell. They have pineapples there too -.
Charlie gave him a peeved look. – But Husk told me that the sea, for example, is different -.
- So you're interested in the local flora and fauna? I would be happy to give you lessons on that – he laughed, starting to get up from the stool. – Allow me to propose a demonstration -.
She knew he was teasing her, but she accepted the challenge and followed him, still holding the drink she had been served; she was enjoying it too much to leave it on the counter. She followed the demon's footsteps on the sand, he walked with his cane clasped behind his back and observing the ground as if looking for something, until he found a large, deep red shell and grabbed it to show her.
- This is a shell both here and on Earth, but in the human world it often contains small animals called hermit crabs that tend to change it when they grow too big. In Hell, however, they are artificial as you can clearly see from the plastic material – he said with a professor's air. – One thing many humans do is bring it to their ear like this to hear the sound of the sea even when they are far from it -.
She watched him with a fierce look as he brought it closer to his furry ear, but her expression changed when she saw him bring it to hers and cover her other ear with his hand. In fact, although theoretically she shouldn't have heard anything, for a second she seemed to hear crashing waves and her eyes widened in surprise.
- Wow – she murmured, taking the shell to hold it tighter. – How is that possible? Is it done by the animals you were talking about? -.
Alastor pulled his hand away from her other ear and tapped the sand with his cane. – Actually, it's not the sea, it's the blood circulating in your veins. You're only hearing your own body, there is no magic -.
That explanation left her terribly disappointed and she turned the plastic shell over in her hand. – It was nicer to think it was the sea – she commented, sticking out her lip.
He smiled and resumed walking. – Those are the classic things they tell children to convince them to leave the beach when they're having a tantrum -.
- But you humans are really creative, I mean it's fascinating to discover the stories you are capable of telling! – she exclaimed, ecstatic, catching up with him to walk beside him.
Alastor looked down at the sand. – Humans are not as wonderful as you think chérie, there’s a reason Hell is so crowded -.
There was pain in those words, she could feel it even if he strenuously tried to hide it behind that constant smile, a mask he chose never to remove but which she was convinced she wanted to tear away to discover who was hiding behind the coldness he had stitched onto himself. Alastor intrigued her more than anyone she had ever met, and not only because he was the first to have truly believed in her and listened to her better than her father and Vaggie, but because of everything he kept hiding from her in every single moment. That detail should have created distrust, yet it only made her wonder if there was something painful in his past and increased her curiosity about those scars.
She quickened her pace and planted herself in front of him. – Questionnaire question; what did you like most when you were alive? -.
Alastor frowned and tightened his smile. – Have you memorized it? -.
- Come on, answer – she urged him, walking backward so he wouldn't escape.
The demon sighed, rolling his eyes. – It seems we agreed to fill it out jointly, so since this is not a question you can answer, I won’t either -.
Charlie bit the inside of her cheeks nervously, stumbling on a rock. – But I can tell you what I liked when I was a child, how about that? -.
- I don't like talking about my past Charlie, please let's drop it here – he whispered, quickening his pace and passing her.
She stayed behind looking at his back, the glass clenched between her fingers. – I liked it when Dad made pancakes and Mom brought them to me in bed -.
She had blurted out that confession, realizing it had hurt her more than she would have expected. She tried not to think too often about when they were a happy family, before the relationship between her parents cooled down and things were ruined forever, but she wanted to find a way to penetrate Alastor's armour as she had with Husk's, and if it took her to open up first, she had no problem doing it.
The demon remained motionless, his ears pulling back as if to better catch her words. He was breathing slowly, his shoulders rising with the rhythm of his breaths. - Now I understand where your passion for sweets comes from, chérie – he commented in a low tone of voice. – However, you won't push me to open up with these little tricks -.
Hit and sunk she thought, irritated, reaching him again. – You said you want to be my friend, so let's really build this relationship! -.
The demon clenched his jaw as he breathed out through his nose. – I don't mean to sound blunt, but haven't you considered the fact that many might find it annoying to feel pressured to open up about personal matters? Human life is not as easy as it might appear to you, since you know nothing about it -.
She felt terribly hurt by that comment and lowered her gaze. – I understand – she mumbled. – That means I'll ask someone else to talk about it, someone who is truly my friend -.
She passed him and took the path to return to the others, feeling her chest constricted in a vice. She thought it was fair that Alastor didn't want to talk about it, but she felt targeted for no real reason. Why treat her in such a cold way just for a slightly more personal question? Husk hadn't been so categorical, but maybe that was also because she hadn't insisted too much with him. Guilt and annoyance mixed in her stomach, and she distractedly kicked the sand as she walked away.
- Bedtime stories -.
She stopped suddenly, that phrase had reached her ear like a faint whisper that had been partially covered by the sound of the waves, and she turned toward Alastor to try to understand if he had really spoken, but he remained with his back turned, his head held high toward the sky.
- That is the most beautiful memory of my childhood, but I won't tell you anything more -.
Charlie smiled at him, even though he couldn't see it. – That's very sweet, did your father or your mother tell them to you? -.
Perhaps that question was too much for him, because she saw him tighten his grip on the cane he held behind his back, his ears pulling back again. – Do not overstep, chérie, you know more than anyone else right now -.
She could be satisfied, so she decided to retrace her steps to reach him with a few cheerful hops. – At least can I know if you had a favourite fairy tale? Mine as a child was ‘The Demoness Sleeping in the Fire’ -.
Alastor looked at her perplexed. – I imagine it's a bad copy of Sleeping Beauty – he commented, resuming his walk.
- So you have that one on Earth too? Will you tell it to me? – she asked, trying to stop him again.
The demon looked at her for a long time, and for the first time, she had the impression that he was genuinely smiling at her, his eyes were different at that moment, sweeter than she was used to seeing them.
- That is a story I would be happy to tell you -.
I will get to yours too she thought, as they resumed walking and he began to narrate the story he knew, and she listened enraptured. It wouldn't be easy to delve deep with him, but she still had three hundred and nineteen days to succeed, and that was enough for her.
The evening finally arrived and Alastor was back in his room to get ready for dinner that would take place shortly. That afternoon he had necessarily had to open up to the princess and the thing was more tiring than expected, but he was quite certain that giving her that small piece of information would help his plans.
He hated having to talk about himself, especially things that he had voluntarily buried deep down never to find again. That demoness had been astute in trying to trick him by speaking first, but he was too expert in manipulative techniques to be convinced, he had only yielded so as not to shoot himself in the foot. He had to accept that to get more, he had to let go of at least something of himself.
He unfastened his bowtie to try to catch his breath and calm down. He hated that situation, he often felt powerless and lacking an escape route. At first, he was convinced that managing her would be much simpler, he had fallen into the trap of the princess's docile and gentle appearance and found a ticking time bomb ready to explode in his hands. He had certainly impressed her, but to maintain that acquired power, he was increasingly forced to advance towards her, and he couldn't stand that.
The apparent calm he always tried to maintain wavered every time she tried to explore his past more, and this was something he hadn't foreseen at all. He had to recalibrate his plans, try to understand how to bypass the problem so as not to find himself with his back against the wall as had happened that day. Maybe it would be enough to invent something fictitious, a past that wasn't his to be able to exploit at will to avoid going into detail.
Yes, something that isn't mine he thought, satisfied, as he sat on the dormouse in the room and stared at the wall in front of him. His shadow seemed to have captured his thoughts and looked at him with a look of denial, arms crossed and head shaking left and right.
- Are you perhaps getting soft? – he asked, annoyed.
The shadow straightened, its bright eyes widening along with its jaws, probably not appreciating that comment.
- Our past is none of the princess's business, these are not matters that concern anyone outside of us – he said seriously, standing up and going in front of the mirror to fix his shirt.
He had to invent some convincing story to avoid being unprepared again for those surprise attacks; he had already unbuttoned enough that day and had no intention of risking it further that way.
She shouldn't know anything, no one should know anything. He himself avoided dwelling on those thoughts to avoid getting soft, so he couldn't allow anyone to get to them. He had an objective and he had to keep it firmly impressed in his mind.
He observed the red jacket he was wearing and for an instant his thoughts flew to the swimsuit she was wearing that afternoon. He had to admit it was a colour that suited her particularly well, it highlighted the fairness of her pale skin and her crimson eyes. He shook his head vigorously and headed for the exit to go to the elevators.
In reality, it might also be enough to simply start talking more about the human world, capturing her attention with stories as he had done that day. She had listened rapt to all the fairy tales he took for granted, her eyes absorbed in imagining the scenarios he narrated to her, and they had ended up staying alone on the beach for a long time, until her annoying friend came to call her for a card game. He had refused and continued walking, while the images of his mother intent on reading the book he chose every night passed through his mind again.
He knew well what he would have answered to the princess's question regarding his favourite fairy tale; he had always found the story of ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ fascinating, the hunter who saved the girl and the grandmother from the jaws of the Big Bad Wolf and the happy ending that resulted.
What he had discovered growing up, however, was that there was no hunter to stop the wolf, no one who would go to save the little girl, and over time he himself had turned into that bloodthirsty beast that terrorized him as a child. There was no beast waiting for him in the darkness, the monster had actually always been him; a creature created to terrorize the hearts of those he met, forged by his past. He had adapted well to that new form, forever abandoning his clothes as a frightened boy in that room full of memories.
He clenched his teeth and awaited the arrival of the elevator, while waiting for those memories to flow from his mind and finally leave him in peace. He entered and waited for it to descend, while twirling his cane between his fingers as if to vent his galloping frustration onto it.
If I continue with these beginner mistakes, I will fail he told himself, trying to regain his calm.
The elevator stopped suddenly and Angel Dust appeared in front of him, probably intending to go down like him to the lower floor for dinner.
- Smiles, long time no see – he commented, entering. – I thought you would skip dinner too -.
He closed his eyes and stopped breathing so as not to inhale that annoying sweetish vanilla scent that the spider carried everywhere he went and that he found terribly sickening. – I’m sorry to disappoint your expectations, but I think it’s appropriate for me to spend more time with my associate -.
Angel smiled, amused, looking in the mirror to fix the makeup under his eyes. – I don't think Charlie will come, Vaggie seemed intent on inviting her to a private dinner -.
Alastor held back the hiss that was about to escape his mouth upon learning that news. Another detail that had escaped him. He had understood from the porn star's talks that there could be something more than simple friendship between those two, but he was not experienced enough on that ground to act alone and understand the dynamics.
He straightened up and pretended that the matter didn't concern him. – Oh, really? Do you think the dear princess will accept the invitation? -.
The spider turned, stopping fixing the tuft of fur on his head. – It seems obvious to me, she's been drooling over her for three years. Maybe this will be the good time for them to finally confess to each other -.
No, it won't be he thought, infuriated but continuing to smile. – And have you spoken with this Vaggie? -.
- What's wrong, Alastor? Are you jealous? – he asked maliciously, moving closer to him.
In response, he used one of his tentacles to place it on his face and pushed him back forcefully. – Remember that you must always stay at least one meter away from me -.
Angel irritably moved the shadow. – Get this thing off me, some people would pay to have me! -.
- A worthless investment, I imagine – he commented, exiting the elevator. – Do you know where they will meet? I'd like to talk to Charlie about some matters before losing sight of her -.
Angel came out in turn, passing him. – Ask this dick! -.
He vanished into the shadows only to reappear in front of him, realizing that his eyes must have started changing colour and size given the confused and uneasy expression of his interlocutor. – Don’t make me ask less kindly, you know well that my patience has a limit and that I could throw you out and make you crawl back into the den I pulled you out of -.
The demon swallowed hard, backing away. – Fine, calm down, hothead – he muttered, raising all four arms in the air. – I think they'll meet in the lobby, but they didn't tell me where they were going -.
He returned to smiling more amiably and straightened his back, satisfied. – See? You just had to answer, mon ami -.
He hid in the shadows, waiting to see the princess appear, not even knowing what excuse to use to prevent her from going to that appointment. If he were excessively insistent, he might seem overly oppressive or, worse, a new suitor, and he couldn't accept that. He, who was always organized for every slightest eventuality, found himself having to quickly piece together ideas because of her; he had to think fast and use all his abilities to understand how to act.
The first to descend was Charlie's annoying friend, who quickly headed towards the exit, and he followed her to study her carefully. She was rapidly dialling a number on the phone she had with her and kept looking over her shoulder; she was visibly worried and he immediately understood that whatever conversation she was about to engage in had to be something she wanted to keep secret.
What are you hiding, little bitch he wondered, following her and slipping behind her in the shadows of one of the plants so as not to miss even a single sentence.
- Sir, it's Vaggie. There was no service inside my room – she began.
Sir? Who is she talking about? he commented internally, watching her move in circles, her eye constantly wandering towards the interior of the lobby to make sure no one was there. The fact that she didn't know him worked to his advantage, she didn't suspect in the slightest that he might be hiding to listen to her every word.
- Yes, Charlie is fine, tonight I'm taking her away from Alastor for a while, maybe that way I'll be able to talk to her calmly -.
Lucifer, bingo! he thought, satisfied, as he thanked his outrageous misfortune for that vital piece of information.
- Don't worry, Sir, I'm sure I'll convince her. You'll see that she'll be home within a week -.
He had to admit it, Lucifer and Vaggie were playing the cards they had available well. The father probably hadn't understood that she would use every means in her possession to convince the princess to backtrack, or maybe he knew, but they had secretly agreed away from her to put their plan into action. If they weren't enemies, he would almost find them interesting allies, but they weren't his equal in terms of shrewdness. They had made a beginner's mistake by keeping in touch that way, and he would know how to use that information to his advantage, and he also knew how.
He reappeared in the lobby, waiting for Charlie's arrival, comfortably seated on the sofa and smiling at Lady Luck; he still had everything under total control.
Charlie hated herself for not bringing anything nice to wear, thinking that most of the time they would be at the beach. She had chosen a pair of light linen trousers and a light blue tank top to try and look at least minimally presentable, also because she had already used her nicest dress that morning and didn't want to wear it again.
She regretted not being able to spend the evening with the others, but she had been waiting for an invitation from Vaggie for too long to give it up, even though she knew in her heart that she should have put her heart and soul into the redemption enterprise. That day, however, she felt she had made great strides with both Husk and Alastor, and therefore felt less guilty about that selfish choice.
She kept checking herself in the elevator mirror until she reached the ground floor and hurried out, heading towards the exit. Vaggie had told her she had found a very nice kiosk on the beach not far from the hotel and that she would like to go there together, and that they could meet outside the lobby.
She saw her waiting, in a beautiful dress in shades of grey with her hair down and tied in a bow that matched the tones of the dress. She was in profile and seemed pensive, but at that moment, Charlie didn't pay attention. She couldn't wait to reach her and find out if that invitation would finally foreshadow a change in their relationship.
- Chérie, I've been informed that you won't be taking part in dinner this evening -.
Alastor's voice reached her, and turning around, she found him sitting in one of the armchairs, legs crossed and his face relaxed and serene. That afternoon he had told her many of the fairy tales that were told on Earth, some very similar to those told in Hell, although the settings seemed decidedly richer in colours and magic to her. She had truly enjoyed her time with him, and in reality, the only reason she had hesitated to answer Vaggie's invitation affirmatively was Alastor himself. She regretted not being able to spend more time with him, to dig beneath his shell and learn to understand him better. She was realizing that his company was becoming increasingly pleasant, but she would have time to delve deeper with him. After all, they would be staying under the same roof for another year.
- Alastor! Yes, I was actually planning on going for a walk with Vaggie. Did you need anything? -.
He stood up and walked towards her, his face puzzled and bewildered. - I actually feel a little offended, I thought we were trying to build a good friendship -.
Charlie was thrown off by that answer. - It's just dinner, tomorrow we'll all be together again and we can walk and chat again. You know, I had a really good time today -.
The demon narrowed his eyes; he seemed piqued and annoyed. - I wasn't referring to dinner, but to your stay at my establishment -.
She widened her eyes, shocked by that sentence. - But what are you saying? I'm not going anywhere -.
Alastor pulled his ears back and stared at her intensely. - Chérie, don't try to fool me. I heard your friend talking to your father on the phone, she was saying that you will be going home in a week. Weren't you the one talking about sincerity? -.
She remained still for several seconds, trying to rationalize that new piece of information, unable to believe it was true. - It's not possible - she murmured.
The Radio Demon turned his back on her, taking the path to the restaurant. - Don't come to me talking about sincerity if you are the first one to hide decidedly important information -.
She watched him disappear before her eyes, while her breath slowly caught in her chest and she found herself standing still, staring into nothingness, unable to make any movement except to repeatedly blink her eyelids. She didn't want to believe it was true; she couldn't have been tricked that way, especially by her and her father.
Her heart was pounding in her chest, and overcome with anguish, she ran outside, reaching Vaggie, but completely ignored her sweet greeting and reached out her hand towards her. - Give me your phone -.
Her friend stared at her, her eye wide on her face. - Charlie, are you okay? Is yours not working? -.
She clenched her teeth, continuing to stare at her nervously. - Just give it to me -.
- Why do you need it? -.
The anger was mounting to the point that she felt her horns pressing on her forehead, her body warming up, as did her spirit. - Vaggie, give me your phone and let me see who you called! - she was shouting to the point that many of the other guests had turned in her direction, but she didn't care much.
The former angel hesitated and took a few steps back. - Charlie, what's wrong? -.
She was fed up, tired, and broken. She couldn't stand feeling constantly abused by the people who should have been by her side more than anyone else in that world, and instead, every time she thought they were taking steps towards her, she realized they were lying to her again, trying to lead her down a different path than the one she wanted to take, even with the most despicable and wicked means.
She saw the phone sticking out of the crossbody bag she was carrying, and with a sharp gesture, she snatched it from her shoulder, and when she saw her father's name among the last calls, she felt her knees begin to tremble. She moved to lean against one of the columns that lined the building, her nails digging into the stone to the point of carving some grooves where they passed.
- Don't jump to conclusions, let me explain - Vaggie tried to tell her, but when she felt Vaggie placing a hand on her shoulder, she angrily pushed her away, almost causing her to fall to the ground.
She moved towards her, feeling her teeth growing in her mouth. - You lied to me again, you tried to exploit the affection I have for you! I hate you! - she screamed with all the breath in her throat. - Actually, I hate both of you -.
She meant it; in that moment of pure rage, she truly meant what was coming out of her mouth, and she didn't care that Vaggie's eye was filling with tears; it no longer mattered to her. She was clenching her fists to the point that the phone she still held in her hand crunched between her fingers; the metal cut her palm, but she felt nothing at that moment but the frustration that continued to permeate her limbs.
- Please... I just wanted to have you back with me - she murmured.
She found herself laughing an hysterical giggle, dictated by the pain that was slowly giving way to the anger that had invaded her moments before. - Stop the bullshit; you won't trick me again. This vacation, this date... all artificially constructed to bring me home -.
She threw what was left of the phone on the ground and moved to go back inside, but her friend stood in front of her, spreading her arms. - He told you, didn't he? Don't you realize he's doing it to separate you from those who truly care about you? -.
If it hadn't been for the years of friendship they had shared, she wouldn't have hesitated to push her to the ground at that point, but it was only because of that little affection left in her heart that she chose to give her only a look filled with all the contempt she could let show. - He was there. Where were you when I really needed you? - she hissed. - I don't want to see either of you again -.
At that point, she moved past her and ran towards the entrance, heading for the elevators. Tears began to sting her eyes and ran warm down her face, reaching her chin and neck. Her throat was closed by the lump that was forming there, but nothing seemed to hurt more at that moment than the deep wound she felt on her chest. Her hand was burning from the cut and staining her light trousers, but at that moment, everything seemed like a minor problem compared to the fact that she had allowed herself to be fooled that way. She should have realized, she should have been more alert and understood the signs. Everything suddenly seemed clear, transparent. How could she have been so stupid? It was absurd that all of a sudden Vaggie had decided to invite her on that vacation and to dinner, but she had chosen to cover her eyes and think like a poor fool that she had a chance, that things could change. All the rejections she had received until that moment hadn't been enough; she had to hit the wall in that painful way to put a definitive end to the situation.
She went up to her floor, but when she reached the door, she let herself fall to her knees, beginning to sob uncontrollably. She had loved her with all her heart, and Vaggie betrayed her that way. Why had she done something so cruel to her? Why had she decided to make her suffer like that?
- Charlie, are you alright? -.
She lifted her face and saw Alastor standing beside her; he had probably witnessed the scene, like many of the guests, and she was terribly ashamed for screaming like that in front of all those people, but she hadn't been able to restrain herself. He watched her with his head tilted to the side, as if he didn't fully understand her hushed and silent crying, which was, however, full of tears that continued to stream onto the wooden floor and swell her eyes.
She wiped her cheeks, trying to compose herself. – No - she whispered, shaken by further sobs. - I'm not alright -.
He crouched down next to her; his gaze was completely different. He seemed genuinely worried, his smile wavered on his face, and the corners of his mouth trembled as if trying to remain tense. - I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have listened, but I heard everything -.
- It would have been difficult not to - she laughed, lowering her gaze to the wooden floor. - Can I ask you a favour, as a friend? -.
The Radio Demon moved closer to her. - Anything you want, chérie -.
She looked up to meet his gaze, while more tears continued to pour out of her eyes like an uncontrollable river. - I know you hate it, but could you hug me? I really need it -.
Alastor seemed to freeze, and his crimson eyes widened completely. - Charlie, well... I could call Angel if that would make you feel better -.
She didn't even wait for him to give permission at that point; she threw her head onto his chest and waited in silence for him to understand that she really needed it; she needed the comfort of the only person who had seemed genuine towards her during that time, for better or worse. It didn't matter that she had only known him for a short time; at that moment, he was the only one in whom she placed the little trust that remained in her heart. He had believed in her, and that was worth more than all the nice words she had heard over the years; everything else was unimportant.
The demon remained impassive for several seconds, until he encircled her back with an arm and stroked her with his claws; it was clear that he was tense and awkward in that gesture, but she also perceived that at least he was trying, and that was enough for her. - Don't cry, Charlie, you're not alone -.
She wanted to comply, but all she could do was cling to his shirt with her hands, burying her nose in the fabric and soaking it with tears. - Take me home, please -.
- So you want to go back to your father? - he asked with a hiss.
She shook her head. - No, I want to go back to the establishment. If it's not a problem for you, I would like it to be my home, at least for a while -.
Alastor seemed to relax upon hearing those words, and at that point, he hugged her tighter, placing his open palm between her shoulder blades. - I would be honoured if you considered it your home, chérie - he replied, starting to pull away shortly after. - Now, you rest. I will organize everything so we can leave as soon as possible. However, I must ask you, shall we bring your friend with us too? -.
She shook her head, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. - She can have my father pick her up; what she does is no longer my problem -.
The Overlord widened his smile again, pinching her nose with a claw. - I find this tougher side of you intriguing -.
He helped her to her feet and accompanied her to her room, seating her on the daybed and observing the objects she had scattered around. The Overlord's gaze fixed on her hand, which was still bleeding, and she hid it so he wouldn't see it. In the meantime, his shadow was collecting her belongings to put them neatly into her suitcase.
The Radio Demon disappeared for a few brief seconds, then returned with a damp towel in his hand. - Allow me? - he asked, indicating her hand.
Charlie flinched; she felt stupid for having destroyed Vaggie's phone. - It's nothing, it will heal soon -.
Alastor ignored her and took her hand, then began to dab the cut on her palm with the damp cloth. She felt shivers rising from the wound, reaching up to her neck, but it wasn't just the burning. His caring gesture was creating a deep warmth in her chest, a feeling of protection and care that she had only experienced with her father until that moment. Yet, it wasn't exactly the same. Alastor didn't try to keep her under a glass bell jar, didn't clip her wings, and didn't consider every one of her ideas to be foolish. He made no secret of his reluctance on certain matters, but at the same time, he went out of his way to help her achieve what she desired when they were in agreement.
He is more of a friend than she is, she found herself thinking, as she let him tend to her.
The Radio Demon's crimson eyes held something hungry in them at that moment, as if the sight of her blood was awakening a kind of hunger in him. He swallowed slowly, his Adam's apple rising and falling each time, and his breathing slow. He seemed to want to taste her, and this gave her more shivers, but she didn't want to investigate that feeling too much.
- A peculiar blood - he commented in a whisper.
It had always been, in fact. It was an intense red, but being partially influenced by her angelic nature, some iridescent sparkles could be seen, like nuggets flowing out of her veins.
She shrugged in response, as she withdrew her hand. - Angelic influences, nothing special -.
Alastor was still crouched in front of her, the white towel stained red where he had used it to treat her. - Oh, chérie, there is much that is special about you. I assure you -.
That sentence made her cheeks flush, and she found herself coughing because of the saliva that had caught in her throat, while she fixed her eyes on the floorboards to avoid looking him in the eyes. - Thank you, Alastor, for everything -.
He stood up and turned his back to her, grasping the suitcase his shadow was handing him. - There is nothing for you to thank me for; we are partners - he replied coldly. - Now, allow me to go and notify the other guests of our imminent departure. I'll wait for you on the lower floor when you feel up to it -.
She remained alone, her hand, which had stopped burning, still trembling.
The realization slowly dawned on her mind that, since Alastor had entered her life, for the first time she felt less lonely and insecure.
She smiled as she stood up and went to wash her face, thinking that she had finally found the friend she probably always needed.
The blood; that blood.
Alastor couldn't get it out of his head. When he had left the princess's room, he had kept the stained towel with him and brought it to his nose, his salivation starting to increase the moment that sweet and inviting scent once again invaded his nostrils. An insatiable hunger had permeated his stomach, and he had to rely on all his self-control not to go back and start sucking from that open wound on her palm. There was something terribly inviting about it, a call that was truly difficult to resist. He had tried to quell that appetite by medicating her to get it out of sight, but this had only increased it, and he had quickly moved away to avoid doing something that would crack the perfect situation he had managed to create.
They had almost reached their destination. This time, he had decided to take the wheel himself and observed the princess in the rearview mirror, half-asleep and hugging the porn star who was gently stroking her hair. His plan had gone exactly as he had hoped; his fake outburst had convinced her, and with that move, he had definitively separated her from those two thorns in his side. At that point, he remained her only lifeline, and he was in the perfect position to eventually claim what he desired. A few months would be enough, he was certain. Sooner or later, Charlie would need something very important, and he would be ready; he would ask for what he needed, and finally, he would be free.
When they had gotten out of the car, he had made sure to help her avoid the annoying friend, who had tried every means to talk to her, but Angel Dust had unexpectedly come to his aid. He had explained why they had to leave in a hurry, and the porn star seemed to have flown into a rage, but not because of the interrupted vacation. He was furious with Vaggie; it was he who had rudely sent her away, telling her never to dare approach Charlie again, and even Husk had glared at her. It was absurd how that demoness had managed to attract the defensive attention of those two; he truly couldn't explain it.
For a brief moment, he found himself feeling genuine pity for her. If there was one thing he had never tolerated, it was women's tears; they were able to stir something in him, a protective feeling he usually reserved only for himself. When he had seen her crouched on the ground, enclosed in that silent crying, what was left of his heart had clenched for a second, but he quickly returned to thinking about his objectives. He had found himself forced to hug her, even though he had tried to keep the contact brief, but at least he had achieved having her all to himself, and for this reason, he had momentarily put aside his disgust and anxiety towards physical contact. Furthermore, the fact that she had asked him, had given him a chance to mentally prepare for it.
They arrived at their destination, and he parked in front of the Scarlett Wave, but a note stuck to the door immediately caught his attention.
If it's another advertiser, I swear I'll kill them, he thought, annoyed, quickly getting out of the car and tearing off the note. However, he noticed it wasn't for him; the envelope bore the princess's name, and whoever had brought it knew that she resided in that place. He wondered who it could be, or if her father had already received news from her friend and had tried to contact her that way.
Charlie came up behind him, leaning over to look at it. - What is it? - she asked, her voice still slurred with sleep.
He turned and handed her the envelope. – It’s for you, chérie -.
The princess took it and stared at it for several seconds before opening it and beginning to read. Her pupils darted left and right and grew larger each time she continued with the sentences, and the fact that she remained stubbornly silent was irritating him. He immediately wanted to know what it contained and who had dared to leave a note for her on his door.
- It's Heaven - she murmured suddenly, her voice trembling. - They're coming here tomorrow for the first trial -.
Notes:
Good afternoon!
I'm back as promised! This chapter was definitely difficult to write, but in the end, I'm satisfied.
Alastor finally succeeded in his intent to permanently distance Charlie from the people who have always been close to her, remaining the only one able to help her realize her dreams. But... is our dear Bambi perhaps starting to show the first signs of cracking? Or is it just a nervous breakdown? LOL
Poor little Charlie T__T I'm massacring her in this FF, she never gets a second of peace! But she has the dear Radio Demon with her—a partial victory?
What will be the first trial that Heaven will propose to our heroes? I'm curious to hear your theories about it!
See you soon <3
Chapter 10: In your shoes
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Charlie was beside herself with excitement; she had barely slept that night. The pain over what had happened with Vaggie had quickly given way to the eager anticipation of finding out what Heaven would have in store for them. In part, she had to be thankful for what had occurred. If everything had gone as planned, they would never have known about the arrival of a visitor and would have risked making a terrible impression.
She kept obsessively checking her red tailcoat, tugging at it to make sure there were no creases, while simultaneously trying to fix her forelock, which seemed uncooperative that day and constantly fell in front of her eye, forcing her to tuck in some bobby pins to keep it still.
Alastor had offered to direct the others to wait for the guests in the most appropriate manner, and since they would arrive early in the morning, he wouldn't even have any issues with the evening opening.
She finally decided to go downstairs and found everyone perfectly dressed and ready, sitting on the stools in front of the counter with Alastor facing them, still intent on giving instructions.
- ...and please, let's maintain a proper vocabulary. Am I clear, Angel Dust? -.
Her friend lifted his eyes from his phone with a scoff. - Gee whiz, if you're clear -.
The Overlord's eyes turned to her, and his sharp smile widened even more. - Bonjour chérie, are you ready? -.
Charlie took a few tense steps towards him, unable to stop nervously wringing her hands together. She realized she was moving jerkily, but she couldn't help it. She was terribly excited about the idea of finding out what they had planned for them, and above all, she hoped this was a sign of good will from Heaven itself. If they had decided to send someone so early, maybe it meant they were starting to believe in it too.
- More than ready! I'd say thrilled - she squeaked, trying to straighten up.
Niffty obsessively swung her legs back and forth on the stool. - What do you think they'll make us do? A contest? A test of strength? A murder? -.
She froze, looking at the little cyclops and trying to smile as sweetly as possible. - I don't think Heaven would ever request a murder -.
- Then you've never read the Bible - commented Husk flatly, sipping something from a mug labelled ‘Fuck off’, and she had the distinct impression it was the same liquor he always kept in a flask and never parted with.
Alastor drew attention by tapping his staff on the floor. - What did I tell you about sarcasm and murder? -.
Angel looked at him with amusement. - That they're the only things keeping you alive -.
She cleared her throat to try and lighten the tension and grabbed the papers she had previously shared with them. - As you surely remember, we never had a chance to finish filling them out, so if they explicitly ask us, I want you to do it right away -.
She handed them to the various guests who looked at them nervously; none of them seemed happy to see the papers again, Alastor least of all. She had added a little star to that shared sheet to refer to his surname, as well as the part they had confided on the beach. The Overlord looked at the new note, pulling his ears back, probably not appreciating the idea that such information could become public knowledge. Any comment he might have made, however, was interrupted by a light turning on behind them, signaling to everyone the imminent arrival of whatever dignitary Heaven had decided to send.
Charlie practically snapped to attention, remaining rigid with her heart pounding. She wondered if they would send an Archangel or even a Seraphim to perform the honours; she was excited beyond imagination. Alastor seemed to notice and gestured for her to take a deep breath, and she obeyed as if it were a military general's order.
The portal suddenly closed, but they didn't immediately notice the presence in the room, as it was quite small. They all simultaneously lowered their eyes, finding a winged being that resembled a ram with white and pure fleece, like an angelic version of Razzle and Dazzle. He held a golden folder in his hand and looked at them with agitation.
- Good morning - he chirped. - I'm Ruben, the cherub who was sent by Sera -.
But he's adorable, she thought as soon as she saw him, feeling the urge to pick him up just like she did with her beloved rams. She only held back because he put on a pair of glasses, hovering in the air to reach their height as he frantically read some instructions on the papers in front of him.
- Nice to meet you, Ruben! I'm Charlie Morningstar, and these are the souls I want to redeem - she began, feeling her voice get higher with every word. - Do you need their names? The age of death? The cause? The date of birth? The… -, Alastor, luckily, interrupted her by placing a hand on her shoulder.
- Chérie, let's allow our guest to settle in first -.
Ruben looked at them with obvious agitation, judging by the strained way he smiled and clutched the papers in his paws. - Th-thanks... whatever you are -.
Angel barely suppressed a burst of amused laughter, which was immediately interrupted by a withering glare from Alastor, whose smile had never seemed so menacing as it did in that moment.
- So, Charlie - the cherub began brightly. - As you know, you will have one year to redeem the souls who are here... are these all of them, correct? -.
She nodded. - On that note, what if more were to be added later? I mean, would that be feasible? I'd like to try and recruit a few more! -.
Ruben looked at the instructions again. - Um... there's nothing written about that. So I'd say, it's fine? -.
That careless answer momentarily caused her enthusiasm to drop. Did it mean that no one really cared and this was just a way to keep her happy? She pushed the thought away; at that moment, she didn't want to think about the negative aspects of the matter, but only about the fact that she finally had her chance.
- Do you need their names? - she asked insistently, trying to lean in to see what he was reading.
Ruben pulled the folder back, clutching it to his chest. - No, I'll just keep a numerical count -.
- And how will you know which of us has come close to fu... full redemption? - Angel corrected himself just in time.
The cherub seemed increasingly tense and started to cough. - Um... I'm sure we'll know, I assure you - he muttered. - Now, let's start talking about the first test! -.
Alastor watched the little guy move back and forth in front of them with an enigmatic expression; he didn't know if he was studying him or evaluating him as a future meal. It was clear that his presence particularly irritated him, but on the other hand, she had learned to know him, and any being that breathed too close to him got on his nerves.
- One of the things that makes Heaven so beautiful is the altruism of those who live there! Everyone always does something for others; they know how to put themselves in their shoes - the ram began dreamily.
Husk grunted in response, but thankfully seemed to abstain from any comment that might have been going through his mind. Niffty, on the other hand, kept her eye fixed on the ram's movements, following him with her pupil as if he were in front of a hypnotist's pendulum.
- Therefore, the first test will be about putting yourselves in each other's shoes! You will have to learn to set yourselves aside, to spend a few days as your neighbour would -.
Charlie looked at the cherub completely captivated; in her eyes, the matter made sense, even if she had no idea how they would do it. - So, you mean a kind of role-playing? Like in theatre? -.
Ruben wiggled his paws in the air. - More or less, let's say it will be much more real. You will literally have to put yourselves in their shoes -.
- Sweetheart, rewind. I'm not following you - Angel blurted out, standing up. - Someone has to spend a day in my life? I pity the poor bastard -.
Alastor turned to him with a bored look. - Even I would pity him -.
The cherub flew into the middle of them to attract everyone's attention again. - It will be up to me to make an assessment at the end of the test to see how you managed. Just a couple of days -.
- And based on what will we know whether we passed or not? - she asked curiously.
Ruben made the folder reappear again, while he seemed to start sweating again. - Um... if I told you, you might cheat - he stammered.
The more he spoke, the more she had the impression that the whole thing was a poorly orchestrated test because even Heaven didn't really know what to do, but they might as well go for it at that point. In fact, it seemed like a decidedly simple thing, at least for her. She would do her best to help the others succeed.
- Alright, when do we start? - she asked again.
The cherub made the folder disappear with a snap of his fingers, then looked at them. - I'd say right away; see you in a couple of days! -.
Before they could ask any further questions, the little guy disappeared in a blinding light that forced them to close their eyelids to avoid being completely blinded.
She reopened her eyes, but the room felt different beyond the absence of the winged ram. She seemed to see things from a higher perspective, as well as tasting a strange bitter flavour in her mouth, even though she hadn't drunk coffee that morning but had limited herself to warm milk.
She turned her gaze and froze on the spot, as her heart began to gallop at a speed she wasn't sure it could reach.
Her body was next to her; she could see herself from the outside!
What is happening? she thought, completely panicked, but when she reached out her fingers to herself, she was shocked to see her hand. It was Alastor's, she was absolutely certain of it.
She lowered her eyes and saw that she was wearing the red suit he always had on, and she began to touch her face anxiously, while her mouth dried up more and more quickly due to the open-mouthed breaths she kept emitting to try and quell her anxiety.
- What the hell is going on?! -.
Niffty's high-pitched voice reached her ears, and she saw that she was also staring at herself in the exact same shocked, completely panicked way that was happening to her.
Everyone in the room was making the same gestures as her, and she looked back at herself, wondering what was happening.
- Oh God! Smiles isn't smiling! What the hell did they do to him?! -.
That was Husk's voice, but he was using Angel's phrases, and at that point, she fully understood what the little cherub had done. When he had said ‘learn to walk in each other's shoes’, he meant it literally.
She saw herself motionless, completely impassive, staring into space, but when an unsettling smile appeared on her face, she immediately understood who was wearing her shell.
- Alastor... you're…'And now for the weather, folks!' -.
She clapped a hand over her mouth as the phrase came out involuntarily. It was as if her vocal cords had suddenly been plucked like radio knobs to change what she wanted to come out of her lips and transmit something else. It seemed that the weather forecast was trying to escape her throat at all costs.
Alastor turned towards her, and she wondered if she looked that unsettling when she smiled, or if it was just because he was doing it in that forced manner. - Charlie? -.
Her knees gave out, and she found herself falling to the ground, hitting one of the stools with her head, one of the poor deer ears folding due to the blow it had also received. She immediately massaged it but quickly withdrew her hand. Those appendages were terribly sensitive, and as soon as she touched it, she felt an electric shock run down her entire spine.
She looked up and saw Angel in front of her, still looking at all four of his arms. - These will be very useful in the kitchen! -.
Oh crap, we're in huge trouble, desperate trouble, she thought, slowly getting back up on her feet, leaning on one of the stools.
Alastor continued to stare into space. She had never seen herself from the outside, but she was certain that those facial expressions couldn't belong to her; rather, it seemed someone had glued the Radio Demon's to her face, making the situation terribly unsettling.
He lowered his eyes toward her. - Would you mind calling the little guy back? I would like to return to my body immediately - he said in a thin tone, looking at his hands and opening and closing his fingers.
Charlie really wanted to oblige him; this situation was absolute madness, but if they gave up on the first test, they ran the risk of it being seen as a forfeit, and she absolutely couldn't allow that. They had to succeed, prove to Heaven that things could change even in Hell, and she fully intended to make the best of a bad situation.
- No, you'll see that we'll manage to 'Win the game!' -.
Damn, how does he modulate his voice? It's unnerving! she thought, touching her throat. Her voice was a mixture of that distorted, radio sound, one that must have been the unfiltered one, and continuous radio broadcasts.
Alastor narrowed his eyes to two slits. - Charlie, this is too much, seriously. Find a way to fix the situation now! -.
- I don't mind the situation at all - Angel commented, touching his chest with a curious look.
Husk glared at him with hatred. - Stop touching me! Or yourself... goddamn shituation! -.
- I don't mind it either, Alastor. You know, I think it'll be easier to prepare dinner? - Niffty commented, continuing to observe her arms.
Angel looked at her up and down. - I have to say, I'm sexier from this perspective than when I look in the mirror; that's why everyone wants me -.
Alastor came over to her, pulling her up from the ground and tightly gripping her arm. - Charlie, call him back immediately -.
She shook her head in response, too worried about the idea that some other strange involuntary sound might come out if she opened her mouth. She had to admit that he must be very good at maintaining control over so many aspects of his body simultaneously, or perhaps since he was born that way, it was as easy as breathing for him. She also felt an intense discomfort in her backside, and not from the fall. Her pants were tight, and she realized it was as if something was wedged at the base of her spine.
She brought a hand up to try and figure out what it was, but when she felt it move, she snapped forward as if she had been burned. - You have a tail?! - she blurted out.
Alastor's eyes widened; the more she looked at him, the more she realized how simple facial expressions could completely deform a face. - Put it back - he hissed.
Husk jumped between them to be seen. - Boss! - he blurted out, not knowing which of the two to look at. - The situation is critical, what are we doing tonight? We have to close! We already said we wouldn't be here for a couple of days anyway -.
Angel sat on the stool, crossing his legs and sniffing whatever Husk was drinking before. Seeing the cat demon's body move with her friend’s gestures was hypnotic and worrying. He and Niffty seemed to be the only ones serene in that madness.
She felt a tug on her shoulder and found her own face in front of her, contorted with anger, a tight smile stretching her black lips. - Call, the, cherub, immediately! -.
She shook her head again, moving his hand away and taking a few steps back, holding her palms up. - I know it's a situation 'Absolutely sensational, ladies and gentlemen!'... but how the hell do you 'Stay on the straight and narrow'? -.
Alastor ran his hands through his hair, but got caught in the braid and unintentionally pulled some strands, probably completely unprepared to find that length. - Concentrate, damn it! Just talk normally! -.
He made it sound easy; she couldn't understand how he endured that annoying sensation in his vocal cords. She tried to cough a little, and it was as if they had suddenly recalibrated, and she no longer felt that discomfort. – Okay - she gurgled, exhausted. - Now let's all try to calm down; the situation isn't as terrible as it seems -, good, she had managed to limit the radio broadcasts but still struggled to modulate the filtered and normal voice.
- It's not that terrible?! - Husk blurted out, pointing at Angel, who meanwhile continued to observe himself rapturously, running his fingers over his chest. - Stop those paws! You goddamn pervert! -.
He looked at him with a malicious air. - Trust me, if you could feel it, you'd like it -.
She blocked Husk's stride before he could jump at Angel's throat and looked for Alastor, who seemed completely lost in the meantime. He was clearly furious, but seemed to be doing his best to avoid exploding.
- Listen, we're in too deep to quit, so we might as well dance. He said it will only be a couple of days; I'm sure everything will be fine - she tried to say, surprised that she had managed to maintain the distorted voice tone that Alastor usually used for the entire time.
The Overlord glared at her. - Chérie, you know how little I generally appreciate contact with other beings. So, do you really think I'll accept you living in my body for a couple of days? -.
Niffty, meanwhile, was practicing with her new arms, trying to grab multiple glasses at once and starting to spin them like a juggler, much to Angel's amusement.
- Well, Alastor, this is the situation. You said you would support me; therefore, let's try to make the best of a bad situation! -.
Husk, meanwhile, had climbed onto the stool and blocked Angel's hands. - If it weren't my body, I'd already be beating you up! -.
Angel looked at him, arching his red eyebrows. - Violent sex, interesting -.
- You are not sleeping alone! I'm not leaving you alone with my body! -.
Alastor turned to look at her. - I need ten minutes -.
Charlie wanted to stop him from wandering around in her body unsupervised, but she was perfectly aware of the fact that he surely wasn't interested in whatever she carried under her clothes; therefore, she decided to allow him that minimal intimacy. She noticed that Alastor's shadow looked at her first and then at the demon walking away with a confused air.
The Overlord turned to look at her with irritation. - Damn it, I'm here! You need to come with me! -.
The shadow then shook himself and chased after him, leaving her alone, while the other three guests continued to argue about the room arrangements.
- I trust Niffty; I don't understand why you don't want to leave me alone! - Angel shouted, standing up.
Husk narrowed the eye in the centre of his face. - I wouldn't trust leaving you alone even when you're sleeping in this condition! -.
She ran a hand over her face, massaging her eyes and finding it terribly strange not to feel the classic contour of her own face. She desperately needed to brush her teeth and get that bitter taste out of her mouth, and at the same time, she didn't know if she could use her toothbrush or if she should take Alastor's.
These will be two very difficult days.
Alastor retreated into his room, infuriated because he realized he could not vanish into the shadows as he usually did, given his new condition. He tried snapping his fingers, but all he got was a few bright sparks that looked more like fireworks than anything remotely useful.
All the power of Hell and all she can manage is fireflies! he thought, growing increasingly angry as he closed the door behind him and looked at his shadow on the floor, at least that still had its classic appearance. Maintaining the smile on that body was terribly difficult; the facial muscles were not at all used to the strain, and after the first ten minutes, he had already begun to feel them painfully tense. Only when he was alone he decided to relax his face and began massaging it, discovering how soft and fair the skin was, far more than he had ever imagined. He lingered for a few seconds, touching the soft cheeks, squeezing them more than once, and sinking his fingers into them.
He then brought a hand to his neck in terror, wondering if Charlie would feel the chain.
No, it's tied to the soul, I can still feel it, he told himself, massaging his jugular, on which he suddenly seemed to feel that same metallic constriction he had learned to know all too well. He felt the blood flow fast in those veins, and again the thirst that had invaded him that evening in the hotel room gripped his stomach, especially when he ran his fingers over the jugular, feeling the warm vein pulse with every heartbeat. He suddenly snatched his hand away in an attempt to calm himself, growing more and more aware of the madness he was a victim of.
He no longer had his body, the one he was used to, with which he had shared that unearthly existence and which was decidedly private. The idea of that demoness observing him was driving him insane; he couldn't formulate a sensible, rational thought.
He sat down on the chair, taking his head in his hands, finding his fingers again tangled in that almost untameable mass of soft, blonde hair, which, however, clung to him like a snake’s coils. He unhooked his hand for the umpteenth time, unintentionally tearing out a few strands and emitting a moan of pain mixed with irritation.
He couldn't find a rational way to handle the situation; every plan went to hell every single time he realized that the skin he was wearing was not his own. He felt hot, terribly hot. He took off the red jacket, throwing it angrily to the ground and removing the black bowtie the princess had worn, which now felt like it was strangling him like a noose. He also unbuttoned the first few buttons of the shirt, unintentionally brushing those round appendages hanging on his chest with his fingers, and found himself jumping up instantly out of the sheer nervousness the incident had just caused.
As if the situation wasn't crazy enough, he was in a woman's body. There were so many things that he had never really seen except through illustrations of human anatomy, and the idea of having them attached to his body was making him panic. If it weren't for the fact that he didn't want to look at them, he would have thrown himself into a cold shower. He felt the need to wash away those sensations, but all he could do was enter the bathroom and splash ice-cold water on his face, remaining deeply disturbed by what he saw. That was not the princess's gaze; it had none of the sweetness and naiveté that characterized her large crimson eyes. The innocence that she seemed to emanate with her face alone seemed to have been taken away, making her truly resemble a demon for the first time. He didn't like seeing her that way at all; there was something terribly jarring in those features that he had learned to know in only one manner. He looked away and quickly dried his face before returning to the room.
He tried snapping his fingers to make a glass of whiskey appear, but got absolutely nothing.
Damn it, he thought, enraged, realizing again that he didn't have the power to summon what he needed out of thin air as he was accustomed to doing. To get it, he would have to come to terms with the idea of going downstairs and retrieving it himself.
That was the last straw; to get what he wanted, he was finding himself in increasingly unpleasant situations that severely tested his calm. He had always considered himself a steadfast man, capable of quelling his anger and violence when necessary, but dealing with Charlotte Morningstar was making even everything he thought he knew about himself falter. He couldn't allow himself to be dragged into the princess's chaos; he had to remain lucid, even if that meant accepting what was happening, even if he still couldn't manage it. He felt different sensations on his skin, and this destabilized him; he had always had a great awareness of his body. The mere fact of feeling hair along his back left him bewildered; he kept thinking someone was touching him, not to mention the irritating lock that kept falling across his eye.
Swallow the rage, you will have what you desire once this is over, he told himself as he entered the downstairs kitchen. Niffty was busy testing her new limbs, and seeing her in Angel Dust's body confused him. The same insane expressions of the little cyclops were on the porn star's face, but seeing them on that countenance was like hearing a discordant note: annoying and irritating.
- Alastor! Have you seen? I think this would make preparing dinner easier - she chirped.
He sighed, rubbing his fingers across his eyes. - Yes, chérie, I suppose we could find a way to add limbs to your body in the future -.
- Really? - she asked cheerfully.
He stared at her dumbfounded. - No, Niffty, please at least you stay focused! -.
She seemed to shrink suddenly to the point where she looked even shorter than him, despite the spider demon being much taller than him. - I'm sorry, Alastor, I promise I won't say it again -.
He sighed and walked past her, ignoring the tears that were starting to well up in her eyes. In a different situation, he would have been moved to compassion by that expression, but seeing it on Angel Dust's face didn't affect him in the slightest, not to mention that, in general, he had never paid much attention to Niffty's hysterical crying whenever he reprimanded her a little too harshly. With her, he had always had to maintain a low tone to avoid making her break down, and he only just realized that he had never really investigated the matter. However, it was not the time to think about it; he had far more serious problems.
He entered the lounge and found Husk slumped over one of the tables with his flask in hand, the eye in the centre of his face glazed, and a dazed expression on his face. Opposite him, Angel Dust wearily massaged his temples, observing the scene.
- I told you that with that micro-body, you couldn't gulp down the same amounts of alcohol! - he burst out. - And how do you manage to hold up this tail? I keep sitting on it! -.
Husk lifted his head, swaying his body from side to side. - Be careful... it's sensitive - he sobbed, slurring every word.
He caught sight of Charlie sitting nearby and stared at her for a few seconds. It was the first time he had observed himself from the outside, and it was a terrible sensation. Knowing that his body was moving without his control, made him flinch. Moreover, he found it absurd not to see a smile pulling at his lips; that had always been his personal way of hiding his intentions. It had taken him years to make it a normal routine, like breathing, and knowing that at that moment his face was not as it should be gave him a nervous twitch in his left eye. His ears moved nervously as she kept her eyes fixed on various notes, bringing the monocle closer to and further away from her nose with a perplexed air.
She seemed to notice his presence and looked at him with a bewildered expression. - But do you wear that thing for looks? You see perfectly well even without it! -.
He took a deep breath, trying to console himself with the thought that at least she seemed to have finally learned to modulate her voice, keeping it at the sound he had chosen. He did not appreciate his true voice being heard; it was something he considered extremely private and personal, a part of his personality he wanted to keep to himself, as was almost everything, really.
- Charlie, chérie, could you keep what you discover about me to yourself? I would be deeply grateful - he hissed, as he realized that with that pitch, it was practically impossible to sound threatening.
Despite everything, the princess seemed to register the issue, and he saw her swallow with difficulty. - Alright, but now you and I should talk about how to proceed with this test. After all, we're partners -.
He reached for the whiskey he kept on the high shelf, away from the clutches of any client, and was even more irritated when he realized that the missing few inches prevented him from reaching his goal. He was forced to use one of the stools and climb onto it, feeling like a perfect idiot. Once reached, he poured himself a generous glass and downed a good portion of it in a single gulp. The demoness's unaccustomed throat almost immediately began to burn, as did the stomach, but he ignored the discomfort and tried to maintain his composure as much as possible in that form. He didn't care that it wasn't even noon; he needed his whiskey to stay relaxed and calm.
- Charlie, it seems to me that you are the one who has studied the subject here. So you should be the one to enlighten us on the matter, don't you think? - he asked, immediately taking another drink.
Husk lifted his head from the table, his single eye glassy. - Boss, what about the evening service? - he mumbled, letting his forehead drop onto the wooden table again.
Angel suddenly froze, stretching taut like a violin string. - Shit, I was supposed to shoot a new movie tomorrow; Niffty can't do it! -.
Charlie watched him from where she was sitting at the table. - Can't you tell Valentino you're sick? -.
He gripped his head in terror. - No, he'll never accept that as an excuse. Damn, he'll skin me alive! Or rather, her alive! -.
- If it's a sadomasochistic film, I think Niffty has enough stomach for it - commented Husk, starting to drink from the flask again and spilling a good portion of the liquor onto the cyclops' dress.
Alastor took another sip, coughing because of the burning in his throat. - One problem at a time, we have more serious things to think about here -.
A knock at the door startled all of them, and they turned their gaze toward the entrance with worried looks. Alastor glared at them all, signaling them to stay silent. It was really not the time to let anyone realize the extent to which the situation had degenerated.
- Alastor? It's Camille! I personally brought you the crêpes! -.
That dimwit is all I need, he thought, feeling shivers run up his spine, and he immediately tried to chase the thought away with another sip of whiskey, pouring himself a second one immediately when he realized the glass was now empty.
Charlie looked at him with concern. - It's not nice to keep her outside - she whispered.
He gave her a menacing look. - Don't you dare open that door -.
However, she didn't seem to want to listen, and he watched her get up from the chair and go toward the door, and he remained motionless, hoping with all his might that she wouldn't do anything foolish. He didn't even want to imagine what might happen if she indulged in some excessive display of kindness that could put strange ideas into the demoness's head.
She opened the door and was practically assaulted by the other, who handed her a tray full of those sickening crêpes he had only eaten so as not to offend the princess.
- Oh, how nice to find you! Usually, the cat always greets me - she commented with a cheerful smile.
Husk lifted his head from the table. - My name is Husk, for fuck's sake, it's not difficult -.
Camille didn't seem to notice that the cyclops had spoken and entered without invitation, forcing him to hold back a growl that rose in his throat, a sound very similar to the roar of some feline. Meanwhile, Charlie hurried to place the tray on one of the tables.
- Yes, well... thank you, but we have a lot to do right now -.
She was stammering, with his body! It was unacceptable; he was never so distressed in front of anyone; she was making him look weak, and as if that weren't enough, she stubbornly refused to smile! Expressions he would never make were painted on his face; he looked like a complete idiot.
He chugged the second glass and went around the counter to reach them before the situation completely degenerated.
- Camille - he began, trying to smile in the most amiable way possible. - It's a pleasure to see you, but as Alastor has already pointed out, we are very busy at the moment, but we will have a chance to return the favour -.
The demoness scrutinized him from head to toe with a challenging look, making him feel the urge to lay hands on a woman for the first time in his entire existence. - I was talking to him, not to you -.
Charlie stepped between them, forcing a smile that seemed terribly strained even to him. - Camille, dear, chérie, well, maybe I could drop by another day to thank you properly -.
- Oh no, you can't! - he yelled in response, feeling his body tremble with anger. "You have a lot to do -.
Camille glared at him again. - Excuse me, but who are you? Get out of the way -.
I'll kill her now, I want to kill her, he thought furiously, feeling a strange heat invade his body, and only when he saw Charlie's worried face did he realize what was happening. He was transforming; he felt horns growing on the top of his forehead and his skin heating up as if it were on fire.
So she can do something, not just fireflies, he told himself, pleasantly surprised by the event. With such power, he didn't understand why Charlie limited herself to using words to try to convince others; a snap of her fingers would have been enough to get everything she wanted. If he had all that strength, he wouldn't waste it like that; he would bend all of Hell.
- She's the princess, and she's a little nervous today. We apologize so much for her behaviour, and now go, dear, we'll see you soon - Charlie said hastily, pushing the other out the door by the shoulders and closing it behind her, letting out a sigh of relief once they were alone again.
Angel leaned over the small table with an amused look, massaging his chin. - Great job, guys, really credible. You looked like you just stepped out of the psychiatric ward -.
Alastor ignored him and walked toward the princess. - See you soon? Do you realize the situation you've put me in? -.
She slipped a finger between the collar of the shirt, trying to tug it to get some air. - It's not the end of the world, I mean, I had to find a way to send her away -.
- She'll book one of the Consent's sex rooms soon, I'm telling you - commented Husk, still slurring, as Angel took the flask from his fingers to prevent him from drinking more.
He shivered at the mere idea of that filthy place and whatever perverse ideas the demoness might have in mind. His tolerance for the situation was now zero, and if it weren't for the fact that he was somehow forced to continue the charade, he would have taken them all out one by one without the slightest remorse. He moved away again toward the counter, sitting on one of the stools and starting to drink again, praying that the alcohol would quell the anger that was pervading every single fibre of his being and making him imagine rather satisfying scenarios, where he decorated the room with the guts of everyone present, Camille included.
- Guys, seriously, we must try to be lucid right now! The exercise requires the effort of putting ourselves in others' shoes; perhaps we should just live as the person whose body we have taken to understand them better - Charlie suggested, nervously moving her hands.
He avoided looking at her again so as not to think about how she was ruining his posture. - Parfait, so I'll just have to start harassing everyone with personal and private questions; I'd say that won't be difficult -.
Angel chuckled. - Smiles, in Charlie's body, you are really unconvincing -.
He rested his elbows on the counter and ran his fingers over his forehead in an attempt to regain consciousness. Taking the third glass of whiskey and finishing it in one go again had been a terrible idea; he had already experienced how unaccustomed the princess was to drinking, and that sudden dizzy spell helped him understand it even more.
- To imitate you, all I'll have to do is be cold and detached! Oh right, and start smiling! Why do you do that? I thought you had facial paralysis! -.
He found himself smiling, amused by that futile attempt to mock him. - Chérie, if that was supposed to be an insult, it missed the mark. I have always known perfectly well who I am, and as for the smile, it's none of your business, but I would appreciate it if you maintained it -.
- Alastor, please, I really need your help right now! - she pleaded, and he felt a hand rest on his shoulder, making him flinch.
It was a strange sensation to know that it was his own hand touching him, yet he still detested physical contact even though theoretically it wasn't really his body.
- As I've already told you, the expert should be you. Weren't you the one who bought all those self-help books? I'm sure you'll be perfectly capable of guiding us -.
He heard her sigh and emit a sound very similar to a radio interference, then step over the counter and stand in front of him. - Today is just like this because we are all too shaken, but tomorrow we must seriously commit to the matter! We can't put our lives on hold; we risk failing the test if we don't do anything! -.
He shrugged indifferently. - Then it means we'll commit to embodying the roles we have as best we can. Does that suit you, chérie? -.
- Thank you! - she exclaimed, lifting her chin and making to go toward the kitchen, but just at that moment, Niffty came out with an excessive amount of food in all four hands, which she proceeded to spill all over her, even splattering onto her head and face. Dazed as he was from the alcohol, he couldn't do anything but watch in horror what was in front of him. His body was entirely covered in what looked like some kind of soup, probably gazpacho given the intense smell of tomato, while he was sure he had a considerable amount of ice cream on him.
- Sorry! - Niffty squeaked. - But you need to watch where you're going! -.
Angel, meanwhile, was bent over in his chair, holding his stomach. - Now I want to see you two shower! -.
Damn it, he suddenly thought, realizing that they would necessarily have to shower to clean themselves up, and he did not want her to see him; he found it unacceptable! Moreover, he did not want to touch himself in that body; the mere fact of having new and uncomfortable appendages was already destabilizing him; he did not want to touch them for any reason in the world.
Charlie turned toward him with a bewildered look, the soup dripping from her hair and clothes. - Alastor... what do we do now? -.
At that point, for the first time in his long existence, he found himself speechless. He had no idea how to solve that absurd situation; his brain, always ready to calculate every hypothesis and variable, seemed to have completely shut down, unprepared for the madness he had to take part in. He realized once again how Charlie's arrival in his existence had caused things to take increasingly crazy turns, to the point of no longer having the slightest idea how to counter it. For him, that was the most worrying novelty of all, surpassing even the problem of being in a body that wasn't his. Since when did he not have a solution ready at hand? What was happening to him?
He pushed away the now-empty glass, realizing that drinking in that body was no longer a viable option, his head had already begun to feel light, and he didn't want to end up like Husk.
Think, damn it, you're not a child! he shouted at himself, as he observed his own eyes contorted in an expression of complete terror, which certainly didn't help his precarious psychological situation.
Angel Dust stood up, watching them with an amused expression. - Wash each other, the other will have to keep their eyes closed - he began calmly. - We did that for a movie recently, but it ended in a much funnier way -.
If the princess hadn't been in front of him, he would have grabbed his head and slammed it on the counter, fracturing his nose; although he had to admit that wasn't the worst idea in the world. That way, she wouldn't see him, and he wouldn't have to touch anything. However, that meant overcoming his total and deeply rooted repulsion for contact, but he hoped it would be enough to maintain the awareness that this wasn't really his body.
Charlie wiped her face with a napkin found under the counter, while she was probably trying to figure out if he also thought it was a good idea.
He sighed, as he felt the cold ice cream seep through the shirt and travel down his entire back, making him jump in his seat. Staying in those conditions was out of the question, so he didn't have much choice.
- Get some other clothes, chérie, I'll see you in my room -.
He had been waiting for her for ten minutes, sitting motionless in the chair and keeping his gaze far away from the mirror in the room, his shadow lingering behind him. He could hear it snickering at this insane situation. He could have let his shadow do the work, but when he had ventured the hypothesis, Charlie had immediately been offended, saying she didn't want a part of him to see her naked.
As if I cared, he thought in dismay, taking deeper and deeper breaths to calm himself.
- Alastor, can I come in? -.
Hearing his own voice speak to him was still too absurd to accept, and he let the shadow open the door. He felt weak, tired, and completely unprepared for the situation. Inside him, his stomach was churning at the mere idea of the contact he was about to endure. He could accept being touched on certain areas of his body, but others were completely forbidden. He couldn't stand it, not anymore. The mere thought of being brushed was bringing bile up his throat, and the entire alcohol supply of a month wouldn't be enough to calm him down.
The princess entered, clutching what looked like hideous pyjamas, the same ones he had seen her wear on the first day of this cohabitation that was leading him closer and closer to a certain nervous breakdown. He looked at the clothes with disgust before getting up from the chair.
- Listen to me closely - he whispered, trying to make that chirping voice as serious as possible. - This may be your body, but at the moment, it is inhabited by me. For that reason, please avoid touching me excessively; I find it detestable -.
She tilted her head to the side, her ears twitching wildly. - I have to wash myself! I can't stay looking like this for days! -.
He massaged his temples and held back the feline growl rising in his throat. - There's a bathtub over there; it's already full of soapy water, so kindly find a way to avoid touching me as much as possible, understood? -.
- Will you ever tell me why? - she asked, curious.
He narrowed his eyes, now on the verge of exploding. - Charlotte, don't exhaust the little patience I have left -.
Using her full name seemed to make her see reason, as she swallowed with difficulty and nodded. She carried the clothes into the bathroom, then began looking around, bewildered.
- Um... you should close your eyes... I'll have to undress you -.
He decided to close his eyes and awaited the moment the touch would arrive, his heart pounding. There was nothing on Earth, Heaven, or Hell that he detested more. There was a time when contact didn't cause him such disgust, but it felt like hundreds of lifetimes had passed since then. He did his best to dissociate, not to think he was truly there. He tried with every fibre of his being to resist the urge to grab her arm and twist it every single time he felt her fingers pass over the buttonholes to take off the shirt. He just kept repeating to himself that this body was not his, that no one was truly touching him.
This skin is not yours, you are safe, he mentally muttered, trying to make it a relaxing mantra.
That little concentration went to hell the moment he felt the underwear being slipped off, and all he could do was let out a growl of dissent; he couldn't hold back any longer. He took a few steps back, still keeping his eyes tightly shut.
- Alastor, calm down, it's alright -.
No, it was not alright at all. He was in a body that wasn't his, a more sensitive body that had different reactions than he was used to. There were things missing, and, even more dishearteningly, there were things extra. Anatomical parts were reacting to the cold; he could feel them, and this was bringing back things he had willingly buried in a distant corner. He knew perfectly well what happened to certain parts of a woman's body when exposed to the cold; he knew the reactions he was having very well. He had seen it; unfortunately, he had seen it.
- I won't touch you, I promise, but you have to come closer to the tub - Charlie whispered; her voice sounded closer than before. - I'm going to take your hand now, to lead you to the tub so you can get in by yourself -.
He had to calm down; behaving like this would only make him look weak. It was an absurd situation, but he had long learned to mask what he truly felt, to hide weaknesses behind the façade he had cleverly built. It would be enough to constantly remind himself that the skin he was wearing was not his own; no one was truly touching him; this was not really him.
The fact that Charlie had warned him of the impending contact convinced him to allow her to gently take only his index finger, which he had extended so that she would not dare take his entire hand.
Calm down, damn it, you were capable once, he told himself again, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth.
- You're in front of the tub. If you want, you can lean on it to get in, or I can help you if you prefer -.
He shook his head and placed his fingers on the edge, finally managing to step in and sink into the water. The sensation of warmth managed to give him a minimum of serenity, and he finally returned to breathing regularly.
- Is everything alright? Do you need me to add hot water? -.
He moved his head left and right again, resting his arms on the sides of the tub to keep his hands out. He didn't want the princess to think he might make any rash gestures thanks to the fact that he was hidden by the foam. At this point, he could only try to make the situation less terrifying for her and for himself.
- So, any ideas on how to carry on this madness? -.
He had tried to formulate a decent opening line, but the irritation he had felt until that moment had completely prevented him from uttering anything better than that. He relied on the fact that she would understand perfectly how much the matter was irritating him; therefore, he could allow himself to let go of some anger.
He heard her sigh as he sensed her steps moving toward the small three-legged stool he kept in the room not far from the sink. He was meticulous about the position of objects; he could find them all with his eyes closed, but in this case, he decided not to get irritated; he certainly couldn't expect her to stand there waiting for him to finish his bath.
She positioned herself behind him, and he heard her open the cap of something. - There's not much to think about; we have to be willing to put ourselves in others' shoes, understand them, understand what it's like to live their life. It's a way to empathize, to increase one's ability to set aside oneself for others -.
A load of nonsense, he thought with annoyance. He didn't need to wear someone else's skin to know what they were thinking; he just needed to observe them. He had learned early on to recognize the involuntary signals sent by the body, a way never to be caught off guard. Moreover, he wasn't interested in the dramas of others; his own were enough.
- Anyway, I'm about to shampoo you; you have ice cream everywhere - she commented.
He tensed his shoulders again and gripped the edges of the tub with his fingers, almost digging his nails into them. Since he no longer had his deer ears, however, the procedure proved less annoying than expected. He tried to imagine himself at the barbershop, in a relaxing place where physical contact was necessary to look tidy.
Her claws passed slowly over his scalp, and when the smell of that bath foam reached his nostrils, his mind momentarily drifted further away, detaching from the present.
There had been a time when his mother helped him wash his hair in the sink at home, when the sultry days on the riverbanks made it stick to his forehead and he felt the need to wash the sensation away. With the patience only a mother can have, she would help him onto a stool very similar to the one he owned and helped him put his head under the tap, taking the utmost care not to get soap in his eyes. That ritual usually involved her humming a song, before taking him downstairs for a snack; a snack that usually included a fresh fruit tart.
Especially strawberry or cherry, he thought, as the scent reached his nostrils. He had smelled it on her before; it wasn't the first time. So why did it seem more intense now? And it wasn't just the fact that she was using that particular product right now; there was something strange, jarring. Could it be the fault of this body he wasn't used to? Why did he feel so sensitive to it right now? He certainly didn't think about her often, but at this moment, the memory was vivid as if it had happened only a few days ago. Everything they had, however, had vanished long before he died.
He squeezed his eyelids tighter and tried to return to the present. - Charlie, will this take much longer? -.
He felt her withdraw her hands from his scalp and grab the showerhead. - Finished, now watch your eyes. I would put a hand over them, but I wouldn't want it to bother you -.
Why did you have to say exactly that? he wondered, putting his fingers over his eyelids as the water began to flow.
Fortunately - or unfortunately, depending on your point of view - Charlie had set the water jet to hot without also turning the knob for the cold water, and he found himself gasping at the excessive heat and leaning forward to escape the jet.
- Damn it! - he yelled, completely beside himself. - Faites attention! -.
After a series of pathetic apologies, that absurd situation finally ended; only the part he thought would be the simplest remained, but it did not prove to be so.
Charlie helped him put on the bathrobe, and to avoid further touching, he waited for the water to dry by itself while she wrapped his hair in a makeshift turban with another towel. The fact that he had been forced to keep his eyes closed through all of this, depriving himself of one of his senses, had been destabilizing and disturbing.
- Now I have to dress you; please don't yell at me again -.
He put on an indignant expression. - Chérie, you are the one who tried to scald me. I merely reacted -.
- Let's do this: if you promise me you won't touch too much, I'll let you dress yourself -.
Alastor smirked, trying to convey how absurd he found it that she could ever think he would find something like that enjoyable. - Charlie, I assure you that on this point, you and I will never have problems -.
He heard her huff and move behind him. - But I have to put this on you, at least -.
- You realize that since I can't see you, I don't know what you're referring to, right? - he scoffed.
A cough followed by a radio hiss made him realize she was uncomfortable. - It's... the bra... -.
She invited him to stretch his arms forward to let the straps pass, and with a few quick movements, she managed to put it on him. He wondered how women managed to constantly wear such an uncomfortable and constricting garment. As she fastened the hooks to close it, she involuntarily breathed on his neck, and he felt shivers run down his spine as his heart sped up. It had been a long time since anyone had come so close to him as to breathe near him like that, and he involuntarily relaxed, wondering if she always felt that way when she was close to someone. He had decided not to pay attention to the sensations of this body because he did not consider them his own. He was used to other ways of moving, to another skin. It wasn't Charlie's presence that made him uncomfortable, but the fact that he wasn't fully aware of himself.
Finally, that torture ended, and he could open his eyes again, realizing how tense the princess must have been all that time; he could read it in the exhausted expression in her eyes. However, they had to conclude this madness as soon as possible, and he roused himself to focus on the next steps.
- Well, chérie, I imagine it's your turn now -.
Charlie thought everything would be decidedly simpler. She was convinced that since it was her own body, she wouldn't feel embarrassed seeing herself naked, but the knowledge that she wasn't entirely alone at that moment had agitated her beyond imagination. As if that wasn't enough, Alastor had reacted worse than her. As soon as she finished undressing him, he had practically growled, showing his sharp canines like a cornered animal. She knew how much he hated being touched, and perhaps she should have anticipated such a reaction to such an embarrassing situation, considering it had been complex even for her.
She watched him now, struggling with poor results to detangle his hair from the water while drying it, with an expression that bordered on pure madness. She wanted to tell him she could help, but given the way he had reacted so far, she chose to let it go, though she greatly feared for the health of her poor scalp.
When he finished, he turned to face her; she had, in the meantime, emptied the tub and refilled it with fresh soapy water. She was as taut as a violin string, so stiff that her back felt on the verge of breaking, and a muscle ache constantly forced her to pull her shoulder blades back to quell it. Moreover, although she hadn't told him yet, she had managed to modulate her voice but not to make the tail disappear, which was currently hurting just as much due to the constriction of the pants she was wearing. She knew how to control her own demon form, but she was having great difficulty with Alastor's. There were moments when she felt a part of herself might break in order to maintain willpower over this body that seemed constantly ready to attack. She was beginning to understand why Alastor was always so calm; he probably had to adopt that kind of demeanour to learn how to manage himself. He, furthermore, was not a creature born in Hell, and she found herself wondering what he was like as a human, if he had changed much, and how he had reacted to finding himself in a body different from his own.
Well, given how I'm reacting, it couldn't have been easy, she thought, realizing that she was probably experiencing a very similar situation to his; she too was currently in a body completely different from her own and one she didn't know at all.
Alastor approached her, the long blonde hair frizzy from the messy way he had attempted to dry it, and the forelock sticking out to the left. He looked like an angry chick right now, and she barely held back the laugh that this vision of herself was provoking.
- Alright, same procedure as before, chérie - he began, trying to pull his hair back. - Close your eyes, s'il vous plait -.
Charlie obeyed and waited, her heart pounding against her temples. Saliva slowly slid down her throat, which felt constricted, intensifying the moment she felt his fingers move to quickly unfasten the bowtie, then do the same with the shirt buttons. Unlike her, Alastor seemed brisk, completely indifferent to how she might feel in that situation. Perhaps simply because it was his body, he didn't feel awkward; maybe seeing himself from the outside wasn't causing him all that tension.
When he helped her slide off the trousers, he let out an irritated gargle. - Charlie, the tail - he hissed.
- I didn't do it on purpose! I don't know how to get rid of it - she complained, squeezing her eyelids tighter.
She heard him sigh. - You have a tail? -.
- Yes - she replied in a whisper.
- Then do as you do with your own! It doesn't seem like you go around waving it like a fan! And for goodness sake, keep it still! -.
Indeed, since she had undressed, she felt it moving even more restlessly, perhaps reacting to the cold and the anguish the situation was causing her. The same thing was happening with her ears; they seemed like limbs completely disconnected from her brain's will and behaving terribly instinctively. She tried to follow his advice anyway, and finally, that appendage seemed to withdraw. She would have liked to check that it was actually so by touching the area, but it wouldn't have felt polite to the body's owner to put a hand so close to his rear end.
What an absurd situation, she thought, exhausted, as she realized she was being taken by the hand and led toward the tub. However, the grip was very cold; it felt like touching something vaguely incorporeal, like terribly cold water vapour with the consistency of something like cotton candy.
- Alastor, but... this isn't my hand - she murmured, fighting the urge to open her eyes.
He responded with a click of his tongue. - It's my shadow. As you can well understand, I have reached the maximum limit of unnecessary contact for today -.
She wanted to complain, but after all, it was his body, and this was still a part of him.
She got into the water with difficulty, nearly slipping on the bottom of the tub but being caught by the shadow, which tightened its grip on her wrist, then helped her lie down inside. The warmth helped calm her tense muscles, and she stopped exerting the strong pressure she had kept on her eyelids until then, relaxing her face.
Meanwhile, Alastor seemed busy moving some things. He was probably tidying up what was left lying around. She realized he probably hadn't even undressed her; he had merely stayed in the area to ensure she didn't open her eyes. She heard him walk away beyond the door and close it, trusting that she probably wouldn't peek.
But... those scars...
Driven by morbid curiosity, she slightly cracked her eyes open to assess the situation around her. The foam covered her almost entirely, leaving only the arms resting on the edges of the tub exposed.
He has scars here too, she noted, observing the skin that began to lighten from the elbow, losing the black tone that was more intense near the hands, and gradually fading away. It was crisscrossed by the same dark marks she had noticed on his chest; they seemed to have been deep, and she wanted to touch them to understand how deep they actually were, but she remained still so as not to be discovered by the shadow behind her, which had, in the meantime, taken what must have been the products Alastor was accustomed to using.
A touch on her head startled her, and she saw the dark being in front of her with a look of displeasure. It moved a finger back and forth in front of her face while shaking its head, its bright eyes fixed on her.
- Sorry! - she whimpered, terrified that the shadow would tell its master.
It huffed silently, gesturing for her to close her eyes again, and then placed its index finger in front of its lips. It seemed to want to tell her it would keep the matter private, and she immediately closed her eyes again, as the shadow began massaging her head to remove the tomato residue that was stuck there. Fortunately, it paid attention to her ears; they were particularly sensitive, and even the slightest brush sent electric jolts down her spine.
Whatever it was using to wash her, it smelled intensely of sandalwood, and she realized it was the first time she had noticed any scent coming from the Radio Demon. In fact, she had never gotten too close to him, but at that moment, she realized that this was indeed a scent she had noticed the few times she had approached him, even if it remained extremely delicate and almost imperceptible.
Perhaps being part animal gives him a more sensitive sense of smell, she thought, realizing she probably noticed it more only because her current nose must be much more attentive to every scent.
- Everything alright, chérie? -.
She had been so engrossed in those thoughts that she hadn't noticed Alastor re-entering the bathroom at all. He must have been behind her, given where the voice came from, and she broke out in a cold sweat at the idea that the shadow might blab about what she had seen.
- Yes... I mean... this isn't an easy situation for anyone - she stammered, trying not to move her ears excessively.
- You are always on time to call back that fluttering creature - Alastor asserted.
She took a deep breath before the water began to hit her face, preventing her from responding as she wanted to avoid having her mouth full of shampoo. Once finished, the shadow helped her pull herself out of the tub, and, just as Alastor had done, she slipped into the bathrobe and waited for the water to finish drying on her body.
There was one thing that was making her terribly nervous: that constant sensation of having something between her legs. She knew perfectly well what it was, but she kept refusing to think about it. Having a penis was the most terrifying part of that experience, but she chose not to dwell on it; managing everything else was enough.
The shadow helped her get dressed, and unlike the clothes she usually wore, she found herself in soft, thin black silk pyjamas with vertical burgundy stripes. The shadow also handed her a black dressing gown complete with a pocket into which a handkerchief of the exact same red.
She observed herself for a long time with perplexity. - But don't you ever wear anything comfortable? -.
He glared at her. - That is comfortable and elegant, chérie. And if by comfortable you mean this, no, I have nothing that looks like it was pulled out of a child's wardrobe -.
She narrowed her eyes in turn. - It still seems a bit early to go to sleep -.
- But we certainly won't be going out; you can forget about that -.
- We have to live as if we were in each other's shoes! If we don't do anything, we'll fail the test -.
- I will not allow you to walk around in my body making me look like a weakling! - he yelled in response; he seemed to have completely exploded. His eyes were now reduced to a slit, and his body was stretched upward as if he were trying to loom over her, given that he was a few centimetres shorter than her at that moment. He had come close to her and was staring at her with hostility; it was the first time she had seen him fly into such a rage.
Well, Charlie, what did you expect? The situation here is critical, she commented internally, realizing that she couldn't entirely blame him. He was evidently a person accustomed to his rituals, and since she arrived, she had done nothing but overturn them; it was a miracle that the first argument had only just occurred.
She tried to breathe to avoid responding harshly. - Alastor, listen. Let's take half an hour just the two of us to reason things out; I'm sure that... -.
- Hey! We have a code red downstairs! -.
Angel was calling them from outside Alastor's bedroom door, repeatedly banging his hand against it as if to ensure he was heard.
Alastor's flaming gaze intensified even more as he slowly turned in the direction the noise was coming from. - What does he want now - he hissed, going to open the door.
Her friend nervously moved his tail on the floor as his wings flapped wildly. - Husk threw up on one of the tables downstairs, and I think he's completely out of it. What do we do? -.
In response, Alastor violently slammed the door in his face, probably hitting him squarely in the face given the other's groans.
- Shit! Be glad that's not my nose! -.
She looked at him, crossing her arms over her chest. - Did you think that was appropriate? We have to do something, or the situation will only get worse -.
He slowly turned toward her, his eyes now reduced to two pinpricks. - And how could it possibly get worse, pray tell? -.
- I know this is a complicated time, but let's at least try! You said you believed in me, so please... trust me like a true friend would - as she spoke that sentence, she had moved closer to him; he continued to breathe slowly as if trying to calm down.
Alastor brought a hand to his forehead, beginning to massage his temples between his index finger and thumb, his gaze held low as if he were trying to reflect.
- Fine, chérie - he whispered. - I hope you have thought of a plan -.
She hadn't, but she tried to force a confident smile. - Let's bring everyone upstairs to the lounge; we'll try to find a solution together -.
Notes:
Hi everyone!
Now you know why I said the test would be completely INSANE LOL
I wanted to make it a single chapter, but I realized it would have been excessively long and I would have risked leaving out important pieces. Why did I think of the body swap? Well, because I think it was an "unconventional" way to severely test the serene self-control of our Bambi! More than anything, I hope it's easy for you to read, and above all, I hope I managed to make you visualize this change of clothes. It wasn't easy even for me to remember who I was talking about and the fact that I couldn't make references to the ways they had behaved until that moment. Anyway, it was a big mess, especially to translate because of the pronouns—I hope I succeeded in my intent and that you manage to understand everything T___T
See you soon!
Chapter 11: Shades of grey
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It had taken a while to convince all the other guests to take part in that meeting, considering that Husk was still terribly hungover. Even more difficult had been convincing Alastor to let his hair be tied up to prevent him from repeatedly pulling it back and tearing it out. In the end, Charlie had allowed his shadow to do it, even though she remained motionless, observing the entire procedure. Luckily, the shadow seemed much more delicate than the Radio Demon and had secured her hair into a high ponytail that the demon found decidedly easier to manage.
They met in the living room where they had held their first group interview, but at that moment the situation was decidedly more chaotic. Husk remained face-down on the sofa, where Angel was filing his cat-like claws, saying he risked cutting himself every time he scratched his face, eliciting groans of dissent from the body’s owner, who was too tired to attempt any movement.
Niffty was sitting on the armchair, but not yet having a real grasp of her size, she desperately tried to cross her legs over it, repeatedly hitting the armrests with her knees, putting on a terribly disheartened expression.
Alastor was sitting next to her, as she tried not to pull the cord of the dressing gown she was wearing too much for fear of breaking it. An incident like that could have destroyed the Radio Demon’s remaining little patience, and she didn't want to risk infuriating him. He kept his legs crossed one over the other, twirling his staff between his fingers and staring at it with annoyance. Probably, whatever he used it for, it didn't work with that body, and this must have been causing him deep nervousness.
She straightened up, clearing her throat to get the attention of those present. - Well, I imagine there’s no need to explain why we are here right now - she began, searching Angel's eyes for a shred of support, but finding only a look loaded with irony. - Heaven has presented us with the first test, and it is fundamentally important to be able to pass it. If we fail right away, we risk our morale suffering -.
- I can't stand being like this for another hour - Husk mumbled, lifting his face from the pillow and looking at her with the one eye watering because of the alcohol fumes.
Alastor smirked. - You're not the only one, mon ami -.
Her friend looked at her with disapproval. - I admit that seeing Alastor in Charlie's shoes is terrifying, but never as much as seeing Smiles without a smile -.
Charlie sighed, lowering her gaze. - Surely none of us expected to find ourselves in this situation, but we must try to do our best. To put ourselves in the other person's shoes, we have to live their life to understand them better -.
Angel sighed, pointing at Niffty. - Charlie, let's be honest for one millisecond. I won't let Niffty go to Val's! Do you realize what she'll have to see and endure?! -.
That was the most complex part of the whole plan. The little cyclops would be at risk firsthand, not to mention that some of her particular behaviours could also damage Angel in the future.
- Don't you think Valentino would be willing to give you a break for a day? Maybe I could ask him -.
- You are not setting foot in that place with my body, understood? - Alastor hissed.
She looked at him, perplexed. - Is there something I should know? -.
Husk grinned, swaying his head. - Let's just say that things are not exactly friendly between him and the VoxTek boss - he slurred, supporting himself with his elbow.
- But you could go there with my body - Charlie commented. - I mean... after all, I'm the princess -.
Angel grabbed his head, letting his torso fall forward. - He's going to kill me, I'm sure -.
She walked over to him, crouching down beside him. - It will be fine, Angel. I'm sure that by telling him I need you, he'll understand -.
- Charlie, you don't know him - he whispered, still keeping his face hidden in his hands.
She couldn't express in words how guilty she felt at that moment; instead of improving his situation, she had involuntarily made it worse, and at that point, she truly didn't know how to resolve the matter. She only wanted to be able to take him as far as possible from the parasite who had reduced him to those conditions and who had torn away one of her dearest friends, but all she had achieved was putting him at greater risk than she had ever expected.
She heard footsteps behind her and found Alastor there, his back straight and his hands clasped behind him. - Chérie, if you deem it necessary, we will make this attempt. Of course, you will stay here; the presence of my body certainly wouldn't help our situation - he asserted in a thin voice, looking down at her with semi-lowered eyelids. Seeing all that confidence and serenity in her body was something she was not at all used to; in fact, it was creating conflicting emotions in her.
Niffty straightened up in the armchair. - It really wouldn't be a problem for me. Do you really think I've never had sex? -.
Husk sighed, sitting up as properly as possible. - Niff, the problem isn't sex; it's the kind of sex you would have to do -.
She shrugged, resuming her attempt to settle into the armchair as she had been doing just a few seconds earlier.
Angel lifted his face, moving his ears back. – You’ve never given a damn about my situation. How is it that all of a sudden you're acting so magnanimous? -.
Charlie watched them with an inquisitive look. She knew Angel knew Husk and had always thought that was why he had come into contact with the Radio Demon, but that sentence set off an alarm bell. Something wasn't right, and she was determined to find out more.
- Can you please tell me how you two met, by the way? - she asked, standing up to observe both of them.
Alastor looked at her with a half-smile. - Common business - he replied evasively.
Angel looked at him as if he expected him to give some kind of permission to speak, but since he didn't even receive a glance, he fell silent and leaned back against the armchair.
- What kind of business? - she pressed.
The demon lowered his eyelids. - The kind I conducted before learning about your idea - he whispered. - But it seems obvious that those are over now -.
It wasn't a very convincing explanation, but she thought it would be better to talk about it with Angel in private, to get clearer answers. Alastor had proven to be a person she could rely on, but she still didn't have total trust in him. Despite this, however, she realized that everyone in that room had a past, both in life and in Hell, so she didn't feel like blaming them for whatever they had done before starting that wacky redemption program. Life in that place often forced souls into difficult choices, and so she didn't blame Alastor; for her, the important thing was that he was genuinely willing to change.
- So what are we doing? Are we going? - Niffty asked.
Alastor turned to Charlie. - If our princess and her friend agree, I would proceed -.
She looked at Angel, trying to understand what he thought, but his gaze seemed lost elsewhere. She couldn't know what Valentino had put him through over the years, but those eyes full of fear gave her a measure of what he had probably suffered.
- Would you be okay with it? I don't want to do anything that could harm you - she murmured, moving closer to him and resting a hand on his shoulder.
Her friend sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. - Fine, just as long as he promises not to kill anyone at the studios; I'd be the one to pay for it -.
Alastor brought a hand near his chest in the heart position but was careful not to rest it there so as not to inadvertently touch her breast, and Charlie was deeply grateful for that consideration. - I promise, mon ami -.
Fortunately, Charlie had allowed him to be changed by his own shadow, as he had made her understand that it was nothing she hadn't already seen that day on the beach. After all, a woman's underwear was terribly similar to a swimsuit, even if things were decidedly different in his time. Furthermore, his shadow, like him, was decidedly indifferent to certain characteristics of women; Alastor simply found it annoying to have them attached to the body and therefore far too close.
He had picked up Niffty and the nagging flatworm, and they had headed towards the television studios.
Walking without his cane made him nervous; he found it a perfect stress reliever. It allowed him to squeeze that and not people's necks, at least most of the time. He had never entered that place, not even when the relationship between him and Vox was less tense. There had been a time when that flat face had proposed a collaboration to him, but he had never liked the idea of sharing the power he had achieved and had refused. That demon must not have received many no’s in his life, given that from that moment on he had tried in every possible way to corner him, mostly being defeated. The only time he almost succeeded, he had unintentionally given him more power.
He smirked at the memory of that day, but at the same time, he felt almost choked. That had been the day he sealed that pact, the one that had weighed on his soul for fifteen years.
But I will soon be free, he told himself, thinking of all the steps taken up to that moment, each one made only to get closer to the royal family and obtain what he desired more than anything else in the world: power and freedom.
Angel Dust walked with his head down, distractedly kicking a can that was left on the ground. It was evident that he was tense about the situation, but he was one of those secondary pieces that he currently needed to keep on his good side. While he could be calm with Husk, given that he owned his soul, the spider demon was a more unpredictable subject, although he had managed to keep him agreeable thanks to the various favours accumulated.
- I see you're pensive, mon ami - he commented, continuing to keep his gaze fixed on the road. - What's swirling in that little head of yours? -.
He turned to look at him, irritated. - Listen, Alastor, let's be clear. You've never given a fuck about me; we both know you've only kept me close to get information on Vox, but you certainly never offered to help me with my problems with Val -.
He smiled more, and even that face was getting used to maintaining that grin. - Don't you think I might have changed my mind? -.
- Ha! It would be easier for that bastard Valentino to apologize to me - he replied, kicking the can harder, which hit one of the walls and then rolled into the middle of the street. - Honestly, I only played along because I didn't want to see Charlie leave and because I need to stay as far away from him as possible, but now this whole thing is starting to stink -.
He moved the unbearable tuft of blonde hair from his eye and tucked it behind his ear. - As I told Husk once, I have no intention of harming her - he commented, as that was, moreover, the truth. He wouldn't gain anything from her death; he needed her to be alive and well and, above all, to trust him blindly.
- Yes, but that still doesn't explain anything! – Angel exclaimed, placing himself in front of him to block his way. - We both know you've never been the type to do favours for nothing. What are you looking for from Charlie? -.
He lowered his eyelids, ready to answer that question too. He imagined that sooner or later Angel Dust would want to investigate the matter; he wasn't so stupid to think otherwise. Expecting it had prepared him for that moment, allowing him to give a convincing answer that didn't excessively clash with his natural inclination.
- Having friends in high places brings great benefits; I thought you'd figure that out yourself - he deliberately played down. - Keeping someone like Charlie close was important for that reason, although I admit that I found myself feeling a strong fondness for her character and good will. That's why I'm enduring all this -.
He turned slightly to observe the demon's reaction, who immediately relaxed his eyes. He already knew that an explanation like that would achieve the desired effect; he could read it in his gaze. Saying that he simply believed in her idea would have been implausible, but adding that harmless detail about the princess's position made everything much more truthful. Even if Angel had talked about it with her, he would have a way to justify himself; after all, he wasn't so naive as to think that Charlie herself hadn't already considered that possibility.
The porn star crossed his arms over his chest, resuming walking beside him. - So, it's just for that? For her position? -.
- It was - he replied, pretending to lower his gaze as if caught by sudden embarrassment. It was so easy to manipulate people with simple body language, a skill he had developed over years of practice.
Predictably, Angel Dust raised his eyebrows, bending them into an ironic expression. - Don't tell me, the cold Overlord has a crush? -.
Well, this was a reaction I hadn't calculated, he thought, as he froze and swallowed his saliva with difficulty. He certainly didn't think he could reach a crazy conclusion like that, considering that his disdain for any form of intimacy was obvious to everyone. He expected him to think of friendship, the same kind of bond he had with Rosie, but he couldn't grasp how he had come to think something like that! It was completely unacceptable.
He glared at him, stopping him with the sheer force of that look. - Don't you ever dare say something as stupid as that again, am I clear? - he spat out angrily. - The only thing that binds me to Charlotte is esteem and respect for her ideas, even if I initially found them crazy and stupid -.
- And you want to tell me that now you believe in redemption? - he pressed again.
He deeply hated that body; it didn't allow him to be as threatening as usual. The princess's face was too sweet and gentle to give even the slightest hint of danger. - I believe just enough, enough to allow a little ram, which is better as a meal than as an angel, to squeeze me into this ridiculous body -.
That explanation seemed to convince him, and he threw his hands up in the air. - Whatever you want, the important thing is that you don't intend to harm her; otherwise, I don't care what you two do privately. Also, because I think Charlie might have a slight crush on you even if she doesn't realize it yet -.
The information reached his brain slowly, giving him an electric shock throughout his body. Camille was enough of an annoying woman always underfoot; he didn't need the princess to get involved as well. However, he was curious to understand how he had arrived at those conclusions; those kinds of relationships had always been quite obscure to him, and never having been in the situation of seeking one, he had no way of reading those signals.
- Ridiculous - he commented, moving the tuft of hair for the umpteenth time. - And besides, we both know how attached dear Charlie was to her friend -.
Niffty, meanwhile, listened to the conversation with curiosity. - And why do you say she likes him? -.
Chérie, you always know how to help me even if you don't realize it, he thought, satisfied, as they turned the corner to reach the VoxTek tower.
- Well, first of all, she's always agitated, and then haven't you really noticed how she bites her nails? I mean, come on, guys, that's the ABC of relationships! - he replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Alastor shrugged indifferently. - I consider it a nervous tic rather than a real sign of interest -.
In his mind, however, images of the princess in those contexts began to resurface. Her cheeks getting rosier, her breath slowing down every time he got close to her, and that obsessive way of biting her index fingernail. Were those the symptoms the porn star was talking about? He had always considered them simple ways of disguising the stress caused by situations; the last thing he had certainly thought of was a crush or any other type of romantic interest.
It's information to keep in mind, he told himself. If he had been less averse to contact, he probably would have considered taking that path, which was definitely faster for asking a favour. However, he would not sell himself out like a street woman; he had a dignity to defend. For a mad moment, he had hoped that the body swap would allow him to achieve the favour anyway, but it was necessary for Charlie or someone from the royal family to perform it. Even possessing her body would not have the same value.
They arrived at the studios, and he watched with horror as the tower stood out among the other buildings, the three intertwined Vs positioned on the summit. He had always considered it Vox's way of quelling his immense inferiority complex; creating a skyscraper of that size was a display of virility typical of those who constantly felt beneath others.
Pathetic, he commented internally, following the two who preceded him. Angel Dust was giving Niffty instructions on how to speak before entering, in order to avoid being discovered. He still thought it improbable that anyone would ever truly believe that madness; he himself would have been sceptical if he hadn't found himself caught up in it against his will.
- And please, Niffty, don't make absurd comments to Val; he's not one who likes irony -.
His ears were pulled back in fear, while his wings tightened around his body as if seeking protection. Seeing him in those conditions was quite strange, considering that he never lost that arrogant air, not even in front of him. It must be said that Valentino was the master of his soul and probably felt the same fear that Husk felt towards him.
The environment smelled of something cheap, although he couldn't tell if it was someone's perfume or the simple use of some kind of disinfectant for the marble floors that greeted him. He was thankful he was in Charlie's body; his nose wouldn't have withstood a horrifying smell like that; it was a sickening mixture of vanilla and bleach. A smell that, come to think of it, often covered Angel Dust's fur too.
Despite the deliberately expensive furnishings, he found the place terribly gaudy. The predominant colour was gold, a glittering triumph that attacked the sight. It seemed that right from the entrance, the owner wanted to make it clear how profound his wealth was and, as far as he was concerned, his bad taste. Vases filled with plastic plants and red carpets surrounded the entrance with the reception, where a bored switchboard operator was filing her nails. She was a demon with purplish skin and luminous eyes. Her white hair was tied back, and she wore a conspicuous dark green pantsuit that contrasted with her skin.
She watched them enter with perplexity, then turned towards Niffty. - You know guests are not allowed unless they are notified beforehand -.
Angel took a deep breath, probably hoping that the demoness had learned the script he had made her practice well enough just before their arrival.
Niffty took a few steps forward, smiling at her in an unsettling manner. - Carissa! But we have Princess Charlotte Morningstar with us; I think Valentino can find a hole for her -.
Angel put a hand to his forehead; the double meaning was probably unintentional, but it was decidedly amusing, and Alastor couldn't help but let out a satisfied chuckle.
The switchboard operator stretched her amethyst eyes towards him with an inquisitive look. - And that would be the princess? - she asked, pointing at him with the nail file.
The cyclops nodded repeatedly to the point that he thought she would break her neck from the speed of the gesture. - Yes! It's her! -.
Alastor realized he probably had to say something or they would end up being thrown out. That pantomime was necessary to make the princess believe that he was really willing to help; he wouldn't gain anything if he didn't at least partially try.
He swallowed his irritation and approached the switchboard operator. - Bonjour, I'm here to speak with Angel Dust's director about some matters that concern him closely. I realize it would have been more courteous to request an appointment, but due to the urgency, I thought it was more useful to show up immediately and without further delay -.
Carissa looked at him for a long time before turning back to Niffty. - Listen, take her with you, but the cat has to stay out. You know very well how it works -.
Angel froze on the spot and looked at him with panic in his eyes. - Charlie, I don't think that's a good idea -.
In response, he moved his hand in the air confidently, while the switchboard operator nodded towards the elevator and began to call to alert the director of their arrival. - Trust me, everything will be fine -.
Charlie had remained at the hotel, under the close surveillance of Alastor's shadow, which didn't miss a single one of her moves. She was sitting in the lounge with Husk, who seemed to have partially recovered in the meantime and was drinking bitter coffee to try and stay awake.
- I haven't been that drunk since I was alive - he commented, his squeaky voice reduced to a whisper.
She found it fascinating that, even though he wasn't in his own body, his facial expressions remained so similar to his previous ones. His eyelid was half-lowered, and he was hunched over the steaming mug, taking small sips at a time.
She adjusted herself in the armchair, trying to use that time together to chip away at his shell a little more. - And how did that time go? - she asked.
In response, he closed his one eye, then turned his face towards the window. - I got into trouble, but that wasn't new for me -.
He was terribly evasive, but she wanted to know more. That day on the beach, he had opened up; she felt he had wanted to talk but had held back because he was suffering. She wanted to know more, to understand him so she could help him.
- I'm sorry to ask, but how did you end up here? - she tried again.
The bartender smiled sadly, still not looking at her. - Working for Alastor, or in Hell? -.
- Both - she replied quickly, hoping that the solitude would help him let go.
Husk shook his head, his hair moving in sync with the movement. - It's probable that both have the same answer: I've always loved gambling, but gambling never loved me -.
That answer left her more confused than before, also because she considered it unlikely that he had ended up in Hell just for gambling. – What do you mean? -.
- Princess, I understand you want to help, but given the current situation, I don't feel comfortable talking about my life on earth - he cut short, taking another sip of coffee and settling more comfortably in the armchair, stretching his thin legs onto the cushions.
She sighed, resigned, as she found herself biting her cheeks, only to draw blood because of her sharp teeth. Living in that body was a constant danger to the host's own safety, and she wondered how Alastor managed to be so serene even in those difficult conditions.
- I don't want to seem pushy, I just want to get to know you - she murmured sadly, as the metallic blood flooded her mouth.
The bartender lowered his gaze again, as if lost in his memories. - There's not much to know; I wasn't a good person either in life or in Hell. I could find a thousand justifications for what I did, but they would all be ways to try to excuse all the crap I caused -.
Charlie looked at him with pity, realizing that whatever he had done in life must have marked him. In that sense of guilt, however, she saw the first spark useful for leading him onto the right path. If he truly regretted what he had done, it meant he had understood his mistakes, and perhaps with time, she could help him put things right. First, however, she had to find out what had happened. She was also aware that they had known each other for too short a time for him to tell her everything, so she tried to steer the conversation toward lighter topics.
- How did you meet Alastor? - she tried, hoping that would be a less difficult topic for him.
Husk straightened up in the chair, the cup trembling in his hands. - Well, let's just say we were at the same table, and I bet a little too much, thinking I would win -.
She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. - So... he won your soul? -.
He nodded, turning to her for the first time. - But don't pity me; I brought it upon myself. To be honest, maybe this way I've re-evaluated many of the things I've done since I arrived -.
They were all so evasive about their lives; she found it terribly unnerving. She had never been so reluctant to talk about herself, but perhaps it was because she had been born in that place, and her life had been led under the protection of her father, thanks to whom she had avoided many of the difficulties that others might go through. Perhaps this last period, not counting the time her parents separated, was when she had gone through her worst moments.
- Is it easy to make mistakes on earth? Like here in Hell? - she asked, lowering her gaze, with the shadow watching her curiously.
An amused snort came out of the other's mouth. - It's much easier, actually, especially when it seems like the right thing to do -.
That sentence left her with a strange sense of unease. She had always thought that human beings were faced with clear choices between good and evil; instead, those words were making her re-evaluate her beliefs, and she was increasingly curious.
- How? -.
Husk massaged his temples with a pained look. - Princess, it's not an easy conversation, especially if you've never lived among humans. Sometimes you're forced to make difficult choices for what you think is the good of others and your own, only realizing later how terrible they were - he began, placing the cup on the wooden table. "Suppose you have to steal to feed your child. We all know stealing is wrong, but wouldn't you do it so you don't see someone you love suffer? -.
It's all so difficult for them, she thought, realizing that she had never faced that kind of moral dilemma, unable to see how many shades of grey there were in the lives of the living. She found herself wondering how many souls were there for a reason like that and how many for much more serious reasons.
I wonder why Alastor is here, she wondered, though she knew it wouldn't be easy to make him confess; it was already difficult with Husk, and he was, absurdly, less closed off than the Radio Demon.
- Anyway, if you don't mind, I'm going to lie down for ten minutes; I need to recover. Can I trust you to leave you alone? - he asked, standing up and observing her carefully.
The shadow raised its hand as if to draw attention, making it clear that she would not be left unsupervised, and she gave it an irritated look, then turned back to the bartender. - I promise I won't cook anything -.
She remained alone in the room, observing once more how bare the walls were. The place Alastor had created was certainly tidy, but at the same time completely devoid of any vitality. Everything pointed to an idea of almost artificial perfection, maniacal in details but lacking a soul.
She stood up, looking at the empty furniture; there were two tables of old, dark wood, but neither of them had any ornaments on it, except for the one near the window on which a decanter and a couple of glasses that seemed to have never been truly used were placed.
The shadow followed her steps carefully, probably wondering what was going through her mind.
- Well, if I have to take Alastor's place... what does he usually do? - she asked the shadow.
It perked up its ears and widened its luminous eyes, then raised its palms indifferently. However, when she looked at it a second time, it seemed to sigh as if it had given up, then projected onto the wall the image of the Radio Demon first taking a walk and then bent over his desk. In fact, he had already told her that he dedicated the morning to take a walk and then to checking the accounts, but she had no experience in that matter and knew that if she made a mistake, she could cause serious damage.
- Something easier? - she asked.
The shadow tapped its chin with its index finger, then projected the image of the Overlord checking the cellar reserves and then assigning Husk the reorders.
- I can do that! - she exclaimed happily, hitting her fist into her open palm and heading for the kitchen.
When she arrived in the room, however, she froze. She had no idea what the menu items contained, so doing a check would be impossible, and as for the alcohol, she would need Husk, but it didn't seem nice to burst into his room while he was resting.
She looked at the shadow with a disheartened expression; it seemed to be waiting for her next move with an amused air, until she finally convinced it to mime with gestures that it would take care of that check. It did so with such care that she wondered if it wasn't a habit for the Overlord to let it take care of certain matters, and she waited, leaning her back against the wall that ran alongside the cold room.
Charlie lowered her gaze to her arms covered by the red overcoat; she had convinced Alastor to change so she could put on other clothes, at least if someone arrived, they wouldn't find her in pyjamas. No longer monitored by the shadow, she unbuttoned a button on her shirt at the stomach level, and other scars were immediately visible from that exposed patch of skin. She reached out her finger and touched them lightly, realizing that the skin in that spot seemed thicker, scarred, and less sensitive than the unmarked areas. Also in this case, they were a darker shade than the skin and seemed very old. She didn't understand why he had them, especially since damned souls had the ability to regenerate unless the wounds were caused by angelic weapons, which could then leave marks.
She quickly adjusted it once that morbid curiosity was satisfied and returned to staring at an indefinite point in front of her, while her mind wandered to a million scenarios. Scars like that, if caused by angelic weapons, should have killed him unless they had been made just beneath the skin, but she considered that unlikely. An angel would not limit itself to torturing, and neither would a demon; there had to be something else beneath it. She was sure he hadn't talked about it with anyone, so it was useless to try to question Niffty or Husk about it, and the only person she could ask was the person directly concerned. Of course, she would keep the detail about her peeking to herself; she would simply tell him she had noticed them the day she went to see him in his room after the kitchen fire.
The shadow popped back out, holding a carton of whipping cream in its nebulous fingers and pointing at it spasmodically with the other hand.
Charlie tilted her head, perplexed. - Are you trying to tell me there's no cream? -.
It nodded in response.
- Do you know where the suppliers' numbers are? I'll call them so we'll have it by tomorrow - she asked.
The figure pointed to an imaginary clock on its wrist, and she deduced that they probably weren't in time for a reorder. She didn't know how important that ingredient was, but she felt the need to make herself useful in that situation, and above all, she wanted to completely put herself in the Radio Demon's shoes. He would surely have a solution to the problem, a quick one that didn't require much effort on his part.
An idea flashed through her brain, but she also knew that it could be yet another huge mistake she was making. Camille owned a bakery and surely had some cream reserves; it would be enough to invite her to dinner at the restaurant that evening to repay her for the favour. Furthermore, that situation could put a definitive end to the demoness's crush on the Overlord; it would be enough to be honest and sincere, she was sure.
The shadow seemed to read the idea in her eyes and began to move nervously, positioning its arms in an X shape as if to veto whatever she intended to do.
She put her hands on her hips, staring intently at it. - Want to bet that everything will be fine? -.
It seemed to stop suddenly, widening its luminous smile and extending its hand towards her.
- What are we betting? If I win, you'll help me convince Alastor to be more participatory -.
The other one tapped its chin thoughtfully, then projected the image of a dinner onto the wall.
- You want me to offer you dinner? - she asked, perplexed, without understanding if it really ate or if it was just a way to tease her.
It moved its hands as if to mime a more or less, then positioned itself behind her to enjoy the show.
You'll see, I'll succeed, I'm sure!
Finding himself in that place was giving him hives. As soon as he had walked in with Niffty past the door separating the corridor from the set, he had been attacked on multiple fronts. He was thankful that the princess's sense of smell wasn't as sensitive as his, or he would have risked throwing up because of the intense, sickly-sweet stench of cheap vanilla, not to mention the fact that a good part of those beings were walking around shamelessly displaying their bodies. He could feel his neck tensed with the effort of not starting a massacre right then and there; merely entering that room had definitively exhausted his patience.
Stay lucid, talk to that being, and let’s get this over with, he thought, trying to breathe through his mouth to avoid being hit again by that intense stench.
It didn't take him long to spot Valentino. He was sitting on an armchair with a megaphone in one hand and a cigarette holder in the other. His eyes, partially covered by gaudy heart-shaped sunglasses, were furious, and he was shouting at the various actors to take their places on what he, with great imagination, called a set, which consisted only of a bed and an exorbitant quantity of sexual objects, the function of which he barely understood.
Niffty was looking around wide-eyed, and he restrained her from pushing further into the room by grabbing her by the fringes of the star’s jacket, then giving her a look eloquent enough to make her stop. Before that day, he had only been able to imagine what kind of things happened in those environments, considering he had always kept well away from pornography of any kind, but now that he saw it with his own eyes, he found himself thinking that Angel Dust truly had a lot of guts to endure that situation every single day of his unearthly existence.
Though, to be fair, he brought it upon himself, he thought, letting out a smirk. In part, he and Valentino did the same job, though Alastor believed he had much more class, even in the management of souls, and was perhaps less cruel. His tortures lasted the length of the radio broadcast and ended with it; this moth, however, seemed to enjoy prolonging them for eternity, adding a pinch of psychological violence to everything. He had always felt revulsion for individuals of that type; he saw violence as a means rather than an end in itself, a way to keep others in check. In his time, he had understood how much brutality could be a far stronger weapon than any threat. Once he had made a name for himself, he had gradually abandoned bloodshed to dedicate himself to mere words, though he did not disdain a healthy dose of violence when necessary; in fact, he found it invigorating.
The director’s eyes turned in their direction, but when they passed over him, they suddenly seemed to lose the movement of hysterical rage that had possessed them until that moment. Being an expert in smiles, he immediately recognized the falsehood in the one the moth demon gave him. It was a sneer of feigned submission, to the point of being annoying even from that distance.
Valentino rose from his chair, swaying his hips as he moved towards them and flashing a sugary smile at Niffty, who was looking with far too much interest at the fur around his neck. He knew very well that she enjoyed collecting it; she had probably even gathered some hair from his ears off the pillow without his knowledge, as she would never have dared to rip it out or ask for it openly. His mere presence, however, seemed to bring the small demon back to the straight and narrow, and she lowered her gaze again in a perfect imitation of submission and fear.
- Angel, baby! You're finally here, I was really worried! - the moth exclaimed, lunging at Niffty and embracing her.
She stood still, shooting him fleeting glances as if to ask what to do, and in reality, he wasn't even sure what reaction he should suggest. The relationship between Angel and Valentino seemed like a typical case of Stockholm Syndrome, but he couldn't be certain, as he had never researched it thoroughly.
The best option was to intervene immediately to avoid any problems. - It was entirely my fault, and I have actually come to personally apologize for his delay - Alastor declared, stepping forward towards the director to make himself noticed.
Predictably, Valentino immediately became submissive and compliant towards him, even bowing low in a poor imitation of a courtesy. - Princess! What a pleasure to see you - he squeaked in a high, irritating voice, trying to take his hand. - May I? -.
He stepped back. - Thank you, but I do not care for it - he hissed, realizing he had used a tone that Charlie would never bring out, but then again, he would not bend as she did. He had already been forced to endure enough unwanted contact, and the moth's would be unacceptable.
Valentino straightened up, taking a long drag from his cigarette. - Reserved, interesting - he commented, running his long tongue over his upper lip.
How much I would enjoy squashing you like the insect you are in another situation, he thought, crossing his arms over his chest and giving him a half-smile. He found the way he was observing the princess’s body disgusting and truthfully found himself wondering what was so interesting about that body. He was living inside it and it didn't seem that special to him, but perhaps it was simply the fact that he had never experienced certain types of interests so strongly.
- I know you are quite busy and, respecting your work, I absolutely do not want to waste your time; therefore, if it is not a problem, I would like to immediately state the reason why I am here, - pronouncing each of those words made bile rise from his stomach to his throat. In a different situation, he would have simply crushed him under his shoe to get something, but he had to keep in mind the reason he was there: power and freedom, nothing else mattered more.
The demon scrutinized him slyly, letting smoke drift from his mouth and float towards them. He realized that the sickly-sweet smell came precisely from that cigarette, and that was why the air was so polluted. - But of course, princesa. Please, follow me to my studio - he murmured in a honeyed voice, then turned to Niffty with a harder look and lowered his tone. - Baby, you can start changing for the film. Now -.
No, he would not tolerate him giving orders to a soul that belonged to him.
He stepped between the two, lowering his eyelids and smiling in the most menacing way that body allowed. - Actually, that's precisely what this is about -.
Valentino narrowed his gaze in turn. - Oh, has someone complained about the work environment? -.
It’s not working, he thought, realizing that this way they were risking the pesky spider demon, his essential informant and friend of the princess, who would never forgive him for the spider's death. No use beating around the bush, he had to lower his feathers. He would have his revenge sooner or later; he just had to be patient, as he always had been.
- No, absolutely not! - Niffty hastened to say. - Charlie, don't worry. I'll go change, see you later -.
Niffty, chérie, you're a real treasure, he commented internally, watching her move quickly towards the dressing room, which was luckily marked with the actor's name so she couldn't make a mistake.
Valentino watched her disappear, then nodded for him to follow. He was escorted into a room as gaudy as its occupant, where obscene hearts adorned the wainscoting and sofas of an intense pink bordered with gold dominated the space. Posters of his images in revealing clothes decorated the walls, and Alastor felt the urge to set the place on fire right then.
With the princess's powers, it would be quite simple, he commented internally, thinking about how little time it would take to completely destroy that room.
A small robot resembling a female clown rushed into the room carrying a silver tray and two glasses containing what looked like some sort of decidedly cheap grappa; the diluted colour and the smell of ethyl alcohol were proof enough without him needing to taste it. Although Valentino had become rich, his palate had not evolved with him, nor had his behaviour and temperament.
- Would you care for some? - the demon asked, taking both glasses and offering him one.
He shook his head, the unbearable blonde tuft of hair constantly falling in front of his eye. - No, thank you, unfortunately, I don't hold liquor well -.
Valentino let out a falsetto giggle, throwing himself onto one of the sofas and crossing his legs. - I would consider that lucky; you must spend less money to get properly drunk -.
He forced a smile, clenching his hands behind his back and trying to keep his gaze fixed on his interlocutor to avoid meeting the eyes on those obscene posters. - Well, as I already said, I don't want to steal too much time, so I will quickly state the problem. I don't know if Angel has informed you about his new accommodation -.
Valentino puffed out more pink, dense smoke from his nostrils, while his lips curled in irritation. - Yes, he was strangely vague about the subject. Am I to think he's living with you at the moment? -.
Alastor barely restrained a chuckle; he had led him exactly down the path he needed. – Precisely - he replied in a falsely accommodating manner. - It’s not official yet, and for that reason, I would feel safer not talking much about it, but I have a project in mind that closely concerns him -.
The moth laughed, amused. - Princess, are you planning on competing with us? -.
He took a deep breath and swallowed his irritation along with a good dose of that sugary smoke. - I would never; it is not a field of interest for me - he cut short, moving with small steps around the room and trying to avoid that terrible smoke as much as possible. - However, I need him for the next two days, and I was wondering if it would be possible to grant him a small break from work -.
That request was met with a poorly concealed growl, which soon transformed into a sneer. - And what would I gain from that? I think you know that nothing is given for free in Hell -.
Idiot, if I had really been Charlie, you could have leveraged this favour in the future, he told himself, realizing how foolish Valentino had been to immediately reveal his intentions. Showing one's cards immediately was a move for low-quality strategists who aimed for immediate satisfaction without evaluating the small necessary steps to get there. It was not for nothing that he had gotten himself into that situation; every unsolicited favour brought him closer to Charlie's total and unconditional trust.
He put on a disappointed expression. - I don't have much to offer besides money, but I assume you have plenty of that -.
The director stood up, beginning to circle him, and he hated every single second of that gaze. - If I hadn't already seen how reserved you are, I would propose a film to you, but I already imagine the answer -.
- Is the eternal gratitude of the Princess of Hell not sufficient currency for a simple soul? - he asked with irony, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at him haughtily.
Charlie wouldn't have lasted even a minute in a situation like that; to keep Angel safe, she probably would have done any foolish thing that didn't involve a pact for her soul. He, however, now considered the princess his prey and had never been particularly good at sharing.
More smoke came out of the demon's filthy mouth and immediately hit his face. - It might be -.
- I am not one to forget, nothing and no one - he hissed with a wicked look.
Whatever look he gave seemed to freeze Valentino for a second. After all, at that moment, he was embodying the Princess of Hell; it was difficult to deny her anything given her position, and even though she didn't have power over deals stipulated by others, theoretically, she could make life difficult for anyone who got in her way. However, he was sure that a show of arrogance like that would make Angel Dust’s life quite difficult in the future and that the director would not forget the affront. In that way, Charlie, too, had entered the Vee's blacklist, along with him.
A first thing in common, ironic, he thought, amused and awaiting a response, not lowering his gaze for a second.
The director sighed angrily. - Very well, princesa. But remember that I don't forget either -.
- I expected nothing less. In fact, I hope you remember me for a long time - he replied, turning and heading for the door. - Oh, one last thing: I hope this conversation of ours doesn't cause friction between you and Angel Dust; it would be a shame to ruin such a good working relationship -.
Something in that smoke was making his head spin; he had to get out of that enclosed room as soon as possible. Whatever it contained was intoxicating, and not just for his lungs, but for his brain as well.
The moth moved the wings he used as a cloak, lowering his head slightly. - Of course. You'll see that dear Angel won't give you reason to think otherwise -.
You truly are a slimy bastard, he commented internally, leaving the room. If it hadn't been for that smoky cloud, he would have retorted somehow, but he needed air. He found momentary refuge inside a bathroom just outside the set exit, telling one of the stagehands that he would wait for Angel in the corridor.
He closed the door and leaned on the sink with his hands, catching his breath. His vision was blurred, but he was certain he hadn't been poisoned. His senses were dulled, and he felt a tremendous heat that led him to unfasten his bowtie to breathe and do the same with some of his shirt buttons. Even that gesture didn't seem enough, and he splashed his face under the stream of ice-cold water.
He stared at the image in the mirror, once again shocked by the sight of the princess's face. For the first time, he truly looked at her. No longer distorted by the expressions he had voluntarily placed upon it, that face had something terribly intriguing. Was that why the director had looked at her that way? Or was it just to try to ensnare the princess?
Drops of water ran from his chin down his neck, slipping between his breasts, which were partially visible at the moment because he had unbuttoned more buttons than he had initially thought. In a different moment, he would have simply looked away, but that strange sensation that enveloped him seemed to prevent it. Against his will, he brought his fingers to the dark, wet lips, touching them with his fingertips. They were almost as soft as the skin of the cheek.
He half-closed his eyelids and tried to come back to himself, clenching his right hand into a fist until his nails dug so deeply into the flesh that crescent moons of blood emerged. In that case, he couldn't smell it, but the red, in total contrast to the pale skin, drew him like a siren's song.
Against all rationality and common sense, he brought his wounded palm to his mouth, then licked it slowly. That absurd and reckless gesture sent such a strong adrenaline rush to his brain that he nearly sighed. He hated the fact that he couldn't taste it with his own mouth; he was sure that in that case, he would have found different notes compared to the metallic taste that was invading him. Yet, even with those taste buds less accustomed to certain flavours, he could perceive a somehow sweet note. He pressed his hand even closer to his mouth and licked it for a long time, until an annoying sensation forced him to stop.
An unknown heat had invaded his lower abdomen and made a female part particularly moist, a part he didn't know enough to understand. It was a strangely pleasant sensation, but one that was causing him great embarrassment.
What the hell have I done? he thought in a panic, then pulling his hand away and pouring water over it, and rinsing his mouth too, although that gesture cost him dearly. Whatever he had done had triggered a reaction in the demon's body, something he had obviously never felt before. Why did he feel that way?
He quickly buttoned up his shirt and retied his bowtie, hoping that getting out quickly would straighten him out; he needed to get away from that smell.
His clouded mind finally seemed to suddenly connect all the dots. Valentino had stubbornly directed the smoke towards him, had approached to do so, and given the type of work he conducted, it was quite obvious that it was some kind of aphrodisiac used to make souls fall at his feet. He had tried to subdue the princess with that method, to stun her, and this made his blood boil. He honestly didn't know how much that demoness was subject to those barbaric instincts, but he was quite certain they interested her more than him. In a different situation, Charlie could have done some terrible foolishness.
Slimy, filthy, beast, any sensation felt just a few seconds earlier vanished from his mind, replaced by a different craving for blood, much more savage than the one before. He had always despised any being who used coercive methods of that type, especially because he knew how naive the princess was from that point of view. There was a strange protective instinct stirring in his chest, even though he knew that technically she was much more powerful than she might seem; he felt in his own veins how destructive the anger of a demon like her could be.
Time will tell, when I have freedom and power, I can make him suffer, he told himself, leaving the bathroom and quickly retrieving Niffty and returning to the waiting room, where Angel Dust was waiting outside. He was pacing back and forth, his ears pulled back and the fur on his back bristling. An expression of pure apprehension and fear was painted on his face, and when he saw them return, he quickly walked towards them.
- So? How did it go? - he asked worriedly, observing Niffty closely.
Alastor started walking, as that dizzying sensation finally seemed to fade. - We got what we needed, but I can't guarantee that this won't have repercussions for you in the future, although I did my best to prevent it -.
Despite this not being exactly good news, the porn star seemed to relax, and a weary smile appeared on his face. He squeezed Niffty’s arm in a friendly manner. - It doesn't matter, I'm used to Val's crap -.
He turned in his direction with a puzzled look. - I thought you were worried about your own safety -.
- I know it's hard for you to understand, Smiles, but I was more worried about Niff than about me... I would never wish my life on anyone - he replied in a tired tone, then resumed walking more quickly with his hands in his pockets.
The cyclops blinked several times, then reached Angel with a smile. - So you're not as much of a jerk as you look! -.
Alastor was momentarily frozen, watching the two walk ahead of him. He couldn't really understand that concern for someone he barely knew. Niffty and Angel hardly spoke when they were together; probably anyone in his place would have let the body's occupant suffer the same fate to avoid worse suffering in the future. That spider, however, seemed honestly relieved at the idea of having protected the little maid, and this sparked a strange sense of compassion towards him. For the first time, he didn't see him as a body, but as a real human being, nothing more than a guy with his own demons.
Just as he himself had been, once upon a time.
Charlie continued to watch the entrance of the pastry shop with her heart pounding, while the shadow projected on one of the walls watched her with amusement, waiting to see how she would handle it. She had to admit that at worst, she would only have to offer her a meal, but also endure the wrath of the Overlord whose body she was occupying. What had seemed like an intelligent idea until that moment had begun to take on insane tones with every step she took toward her destination, until she found herself frozen in front of the door.
She glanced at her reflection in the glass, realizing she couldn't present herself that way. Alastor would never wear that frightened and tense expression; if he were to do something like this, he would walk in with a wide grin and his back straight, wearing the expression of someone who feared nothing and no one.
She breathed deeply and straightened her back, plastering on her face a smile as similar as possible to the Radio Demon's usual one, grasping the handle, pushing it, and entering. The place was quite crowded, and Camille was bustling between the tables with her cart full of various sweet foods that were making Charlie terribly hungry.
No, Charlie, Alastor wouldn't do that, she told herself, walking inside and forcing herself as much as possible to stay in character. Meanwhile, in her head, she realized that it would probably be appropriate to thank her for the constant supply of crêpes, but also tell her that they could easily handle their own breakfasts. She had never thought it fair that Camille put in all that effort without realizing that Alastor didn't even touch what she cooked, with the exception of what Charlie herself had offered him the day they had come to that place.
The demon froze in the middle of the room as soon as she saw her and completely ignored some customers who were waving their arms to get attention, running in her direction. - Alastor! Oh my, I didn't expect to see you so soon! - she exclaimed excitedly, stopping right in front of his face.
Now that she observed her up close, she realized Camille had feline eyes, despite her squirrel-like appearance. Her pupils were vertical and widened and contracted depending on the light, just like a cat's. Her long lashes kept moving in time with her blinking, and she seemed ready to devour him with her eyes, and Charlie began to understand why Alastor barely tolerated her attention.
She cleared her throat, clasping her hands behind her back just as Alastor usually did to make her performance even more fitting. - I have come to thank you for your constant courtesy, and I was also wondering if I might take advantage of it one more time -.
Camille scrutinized him from head to toe with an even more ravenous look. - You can take advantage of me as much as you want -.
What the heck! she screamed internally, finding herself wide-eyed and forcing herself with every fibre of her being not to lose the smile she had intentionally pasted on her face. This situation was proving more difficult than expected, and she noticed the shadow in a corner snickering with amusement.
She tried to regain control and pretended not to grasp the double meaning, which probably suited the Radio Demon perfectly. - Well, I've run out of cream, and I was wondering if you had any leftover -.
Camille moved even closer, giving her a sly smile. – Anything for you sweetie - she whispered, but when she tried to run a finger along her cheek, Charlie took a long step back and risked losing the smile completely, which, despite the effort to hold it, wasn't causing her cheek pain. The Overlord's muscles were probably already accustomed to this absurd situation.
- Thank you, but regarding that, I think we should talk - she said, lowering her voice to try not to be heard by the other customers. - I appreciate your attention, but there can only be a good friendship between us, nothing more -.
Clear, simple, and concise, she should get it, she thought, satisfied, watching the expressions that were painting on the demon's face, but Camille didn't seem at all affected by the comment and Charlie even doubted she had actually listened.
- Oh, certainly, darling, I understand - she replied, turning her back to him. - Not in front of everyone, at least -.
No! Never! she shouted again in her head, while the shadow widened its bright smile, pretending to hide it behind a hand. She wanted to continue talking to her, but Camille disappeared into the back room, leaving Charlie with her index finger pointed up and her mouth half-open, ready to reply that she actually meant in general.
Camille returned shortly after with a box containing an excessive amount of cream for a single evening, as Charlie had hoped that by the next day they would be able to contact suppliers to get everything they needed. Camille placed it in her arms and deliberately lingered on Charlie's hands, with which she was struggling to hold the heavy box, making her want to drop it instantly. Charlie had never been reluctant to physical contact, but Camille was, for the first time in her life, making it unwelcome, and Charlie realized that perhaps this madness was really achieving the desired effect; she was probably experiencing the same repulsion as Alastor.
- Thank you - she sighed, moving away for the umpteenth time, the idea of inviting her to the establishment for dinner completely vanishing from her mind. - Tell me how much it cost you so I can repay you -.
Camille gave him yet another honeyed smile. - Oh, darling, you owe me nothing, of course -.
- I don't want there to be any debts of any kind between us - she tried to say. - So send me the bill; I will be happy to settle what I owe you -.
The squirrel wiggled her tail right and left, narrowing her gaze. - Of course, beautiful, I'll send it over very soon -.
That look didn't exactly promise anything positive, but she felt the need to immediately put as much distance as possible between herself and that demon. She was aware that the more attention she gave her, the bigger the problem would become.
- Thank you, dear… I mean, chérie - she whispered. - I hope that a good friendship and a relationship of good neighbourliness remains between us - she tried again, hoping that this time the message would reach her loud and clear.
Camille's eyes widened and her lips curled. - I understand perfectly what you mean, you don't have to worry, there will be no further discussion on this point -.
She didn't know why, but the way she said it immediately made her think that this was actually just the beginning of their problems. However, she wanted to keep hoping that she had simply done a good job and had at least partially resolved that nuisance, along with the establishment's lack of raw materials.
She quickly exited onto the street, and when she returned to the Scarlet Wave, she found Alastor waiting for her, standing in the middle of the room. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was nervously tapping his foot on the ground; there was no sign of the others at that moment.
She swallowed hard; those eyes, even though they were her own, were clearly infuriated and sent a wave of shivers of terror down her body, to the point that she nearly dropped the box. The shadow quickly returned to its owner with a serene expression.
- Chérie, where did you go? And why do I think you've done something damn stupid? - the Overlord asked in a whisper.
Charlie placed the box on the floor to avoid having it smash to pieces and tried to maintain a serene and resolute air. - We had run out of cream for tonight, so I went to get some -.
- And where did you get it? -.
She paused for an instant, letting her eyes drift upward to avoid being incinerated by his gaze. - Well, your shadow told me it was late to call suppliers, and since we need to try to put ourselves in each other's shoes, I asked myself... what would Alastor do? -.
The tapping of his foot grew louder, and even though she wasn't looking at him, she was sure he had narrowed his eyes to a slit. - I would never do anything stupid, so I hope that premise does not lead to the conclusion I fear -.
- I went and asked Camille for it and told her that you can only be friends, but she really understood! I'm sure it's over! - she blurted out the confession so quickly that she almost ran out of breath, and finally forced herself to look at him again, putting on a forced smile and frantically squeezing her arm with one hand to try to quell her anxiety.
Alastor was motionless, not moving a muscle, seeming to have even stopped breathing. The only movement was probably involuntary, as his left eyelid was twitching faster and faster, a clear sign that she had hit a nerve.
She watched him approach her at a brisk pace, then violently opened the box and showed her the cream carton. - First point: as I already told you, we pay attention to quality here, and for that reason, we would never use a product like this! - he hissed seriously, pointing at the carton. - Second point, I would have simply changed the menu, and third, and most important, there was plenty of time to call the suppliers! -.
Charlie turned to the shadow, looking furious. - You rotten liar! You said there wasn't time to call them today! -.
The shadow shrugged, putting on a completely bewildered expression.
Alastor looked at them both, his eyelid now relentlessly twitching. - Neither of you remembered that... we're closed tonight! We said so this morning! We left word that we would reopen tomorrow, since if it weren't for a sudden change of plans, we would still be at Bermuda Beach! -.
Charlie froze on the spot, pulling her back further and further each time he approached her, almost reaching a ninety-degree angle once the demon finished speaking. She hadn't actually thought about it; she was convinced they would resume normal activities that day, and with everything that had happened, she hadn't fully registered the conversations from that morning. She shot a look at the shadow, which remained behind the Overlord's back, feigning indifference, as probably even the shadow hadn't considered that possibility, or perhaps it knew and had simply wanted to mock her in that absurd way.
- Um... sorry? -.
She thought that at that point he would explode, but he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, then turned his back to her and went towards the counter. - I did something useful in the meantime; I saved dear Angel Dust two days of work. Although I think you won't be in his employer's good graces from now on -.
She straightened up and looked at him worriedly. - Did you hurt him? -.
A shiver ran down Alastor's shoulders, and he turned to her slowly. - No, and believe me when I tell you it was very difficult to avoid it -.
She imagined it; she read in his eyes how much he probably had to restrain himself. She knew Valentino was a slimy and despicable person, and also how little Alastor tolerated people in general; he must have made a considerable effort to avoid knocking him out. She was terribly grateful to him and couldn't help but give him a genuine and sincere smile. She was increasingly convinced that Alastor was not as cruel as he was painted; he just had difficulty showing anything different, and she wondered why. Had he suffered something that prompted him to hide the best of himself? What was in his soul? And why, at that moment, did she have the tremendous urge to hug him?
- Thank you, Alastor, you are a true friend - she murmured.
The radio demon gave her an ironic smile. - Glad this folly has made me level up - he commented, sitting down. - Now, please call the others. If we have to prepare for tomorrow, everyone should know their role well -.
Charlie was really putting in an effort at the moment, as were the other guests. Husk was with Niffty, who was explaining how to manage the kitchen, and Alastor had suggested a menu change to make the cat demon's job easier, adding more dishes that had a less complex preparation. Angel, on the other hand, already having some experience with alcoholic drinks, had quickly learned how to mix what was on the menu, and so he had headed into the kitchen to observe the progress of the other two.
She and Alastor were sitting at one of the tables, where he had mostly held a very long monologue about the need to always look on top of the situation. He had explained in detail that his was not simply strutting around the room, but a way to study those present and understand what they truly needed, anticipate their desires, and thus acquire loyal clientele. Every move he made was never random, and the more he talked, the more she wondered if he hadn't somehow done the same thing with her, to the point that after almost two hours of chatting, she could no longer resist.
- But… did you do that with me too? - she asked.
The demon stopped sipping the coffee in front of him, giving her a half-smile. - Chérie, it seems obvious to me that I did -.
She was momentarily frozen by that answer. - Are you admitting that you manipulated me? -.
She watched him smile, leaning back against the sofa and clasping his hands in his lap. - It seems to me that I am the one doing things out of the ordinary. So who manipulated whom? -.
She avoided biting her cheeks to keep from hurting herself again but couldn't stifle a nervous huff. - Alastor, you know that's not what I was talking about -.
He seemed untouched and rotated the cup on the table with one finger. - I am an attentive host; I simply understood your needs and, since I liked you, I arranged for you to have a way to achieve your goals. It seems that in the end, you benefited, didn't you? -.
Absurdly, his reasoning was flawless, and he had somehow admitted to having studied her. She wasn't sure how to feel about it, partly because such sincerity on the subject had completely thrown her off. If he had simply wanted to manipulate her, he would have said no, that he had never watched her carefully and had only wanted to help. Instead, he had openly stated everything, without worrying about being misunderstood.
- And as I told you once, I wanted to deepen our friendship, and it seems I have partially achieved what I wanted. Although it seems from your reluctance that you still don't completely trust me - he commented again, resuming his drink and observing her from under his eyelids.
Charlie straightened her back and felt her ears pull back. - That's not it, it's just that put yourself in my shoes… -.
- Aren't we already doing that? - he mocked, shrugging.
She rolled her eyes. - I meant that it's hard to think that you, of all people, would do something without an ulterior motive... although I admit that in the last few days you've been a true friend -.
Alastor raised his coffee cup in her direction as if making a toast. - Happy to have been of use, chérie -.
Some noises of pans falling to the ground startled them from their conversation, followed by Angel's loud laughter, which sounded terribly amused. The Overlord shot an annoyed glance at the room, making to get up, but Charlie stopped him.
- I'll do it, let me try to be you! - she declared.
He scrutinized her from head to toe, then gave her a nod. - Go ahead, be my guest -.
Charlie confidently advanced toward the kitchen and found Husk standing on a stool, with two lids and a pot on the floor that must have fallen after he tried to grab them from the higher shelves. He looked exasperated and tired, and his small apron was covered in stains of all sorts.
Angel was sitting on the kitchen counter watching the entire scene, tears in his eyes from laughing so much, and Niffty was already at work washing the pans that had been used.
- Charlie, you should have seen it, they fell on his head! ALL OF THEM! - her friend snickered again, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.
Husk glared at him fiercely. - I'd like to see you try, you asshole! -.
- I handled the drinks perfectly - he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
Before they could start arguing again, she stepped between them. - Guys, come on, let's not fight - she began, putting her hands up, then turned to the bartender. - I know you're doing your best, but I might have the solution. I know the task involves putting ourselves in others' shoes, but tomorrow Niffty could stay here to help you if you need it, especially with things placed up high -.
Husk sighed, stepping down from the stool and scratching the back of his neck. - That could work... what do you say, Niff? -.
She seemed to suddenly wake up from obsessively scrubbing the pan and looked up at them. - I can just cook, I said it would be a breeze with these arms! -.
- Honey, we already talked about this, it's not the task those nice people assigned us - Angel replied, crossing his legs.
Alastor, meanwhile, had entered and was watching her, leaning against the doorframe with a satisfied smile. - I'd say you've found an optimal solution; you leave me pleasantly surprised -.
Charlie lifted her chin with a satisfied air. - You could let me take over the management of the establishment -.
- Don't exaggerate - he hissed in response. - We both have a long way to go before reaching that level of trust -.
The rest of the day continued quite serenely; in fact, at one point, she even seemed to forget that she was living in someone else's body. She had started reading the books she had bought in the lounge, primarily to do Alastor a favour and allow him to keep her constantly under control, and for her to do the same with him. At that moment, he had stepped away to check some financial statements, and she was left alone with Angel, who was scrolling through notifications on his cell phone, sprawled on the couch with his legs propped up on the backrest. Niffty and Husk had stayed downstairs to prepare dinner, and she thought this was the right moment to ask for more information regarding his relationship with the Radio Demon. She closed the book and placed it on the wooden table, clearing her throat to get her friend's attention.
- Angel, can I ask you a question? - she asked him.
He continued to look at his phone. - You already have, actually, but I'll grant you a second one because I love you - he joked.
She stood up and sat down closer, on the portion of the couch he wasn't occupying. - Tell me the truth, why do you and Alastor know each other? -.
Her friend remained momentarily still, before pulling his legs down from the backrest and sitting up, stopping looking at his phone. - You know it's terrifying talking about this with you while you have his body? -.
- Come on, Angel! - she whined, trying to put on a puppy-dog face.
Angel's fur bristled, and he looked at her with horror. - I don't know what expression you were trying to make, but you're terrifying me, so stop it! -.
She hid her face in her hands, her ears moving uncontrollably, and if it weren't for the concentration she was trying to maintain, she was sure her tail would have reappeared soon too. - I'll stop, but you talk -.
Her friend ran a hand over his forehead, putting on a disgruntled expression when he realized he didn't have his usual tuft of hair. - You know how things work in Hell; I did a favour for him, and he did one for me -.
- So, you didn't just know Husk - she pressed.
Angel rolled his eyes. - No, I also knew Alastor. But between us, there has always been a relationship based on favours we did for each other, nothing more, and if you want to ask me what those favours were, I'd rather not talk about it for my own good. I don't think I would come out of it well if they came to light - he cut the topic short.
Charlie grew worried and moved closer to him. - Do you think Alastor would hurt you? - she whispered.
Her friend shook his head. - For once, Alastor wouldn't be the real problem, though let's be honest, he's not one to have many scruples. It must be said, however, that he is loyal to his allies, and that's enough for me -.
- Please, Angel, tell me more, I need to know if I can trust him - she pleaded.
She realized that every day, her reluctance towards the Radio Demon was becoming less and less strong, to the point that in her mind, he was genuinely becoming a friend. He had stood by her, supported her, and hadn't thrown everything to hell once the challenges began; in fact, he had shown willingness, and this was putting her in a crisis. She could keep her guard up for an ambiguous person, but his behaviour was starting to seem far too clear, especially after the conversation they had that afternoon.
Her friend lowered his gaze, pulling his ears back. - Charlie, to be honest, I wouldn't trust anyone, not even myself - he replied monotonously. - We're in Hell, not a playground -.
- I trust you - she whispered, the urge to hug him growing stronger and stronger at that moment.
Angel gave her a melancholic look. - You might regret it; I'm telling you this for your own good. None of us deserves your total and unconditional trust -.
Charlie moved a few centimetres towards him, trying to smile encouragingly. - Angel, I care about you, you know I trust you, and it doesn't matter what you think -.
He rubbed his temples with his index finger and thumb. - Fine, but I'm simply telling you what I think. I can assure you that those who trusted me in life didn't end well, and I haven't lost the habit in Hell - he commented ironically. - A spy once... a spy forever -.
- What do you mean? -.
He suddenly jumped to his feet, changing his expression abruptly and giving her a suggestive smile. - Anyway, regarding Smiles, I'd say that if we really have to find an ulterior motive for him, it's to make friends with the princess, and I think that's something all the Overlords of Pentagram City have in common. Although, deep down, I think you two have a strange chemistry. How was the bath, by the way? -.
Charlie felt her cheeks burn and clawed at the sofa, nearly ripping a hole in it. - Angel! What are you talking about? Alastor has no interest in me, nor I in him, I can assure you! -.
Her friend widened his smile maliciously. - I think even if he doesn't say it, he likes you; that's why he's so kind, and I think you like him too -.
She felt terribly embarrassed, and at that moment, she only wanted to bury herself and disappear. She was certain that Alastor felt no interest in her; in fact, she was sure he felt no interest in anyone in that sense. He had made clear not only his total indifference to romantic relationships but also to physical contact, and she had proof of that just that day.
Angel then stood up, stretching, and gave her yet another suggestive look. - Anyway, we'll find out more tonight; I don't think he will let you sleep alone with his body, and I think the same goes for you -.
Her face was so hot at that point that she thought she could fry an egg on it. She had not even considered the problem of sleeping arrangements, and in reality, she had to agree with her friend; despite Alastor not seeming interested in her charms, he wouldn't let her sleep without strict supervision.
She looked at the clock on the wall, realizing that the hour was now approaching. After dinner, they would absolutely have to talk about it.
A thought materialized in her mind, and she found herself observing the arm covered by the red jacket. This could be the right moment to talk about those scars; now she wanted to know.
Notes:
And here we are again! :D
So, writing this chapter was like giving birth, and truthfully, I was hoping to conclude the body-swap issue with this one, but the truth is there were too many things I still wanted to talk about.
We see a first surrender from Alastor, thanks in part to Valentino's smoke, and his first hint of understanding towards Angel Dust. Could this be a first step towards his change? Furthermore, Charlie begins to dig into Husk's heart to try to get closer to him and tries in every way to respect the task that Heaven has given her.
I know it seems like it takes me a long time to get everyone to open up, but I don't want it to feel rushed, and so I prefer to take my time to give all the backstories the right space, especially Alastor's, which will be very complex.
As always, I thank everyone who reads or reviews this story <3
See you soon! :D
Chapter 12: The scars of the past
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Alastor's dinner had passed without further incident, except for the fact that the princess’s palate was not used to raw meat and, for that reason, he had struggled to enjoy it, considering that seeing her guzzle an excessive amount of ice cream with his mouth had irritated him. It would take him weeks to get rid of that sweetish taste. The only positive note had been the conversation they held while he explained in detail the tasks she would have for the following evening. He had intentionally dropped the topic of manipulation; he wanted to understand how much she trusted him and how their relationship had evolved. That way, he understood that she wasn't too shocked by it and hadn't put up a wall, besides having thus ended any hypotheses about his bad faith. Furthermore, thanks to what he had told Angel Dust that same afternoon, he had also closed the discussion regarding their relationship and put a bug in the spider’s ear. Even if he were to tell her what interested him, she wouldn't be surprised, and it was better for her to think of a crush rather than a danger. It was certainly true that the idea of being considered a lovesick boy did not appeal to him at all, but it was better than risking blowing everything up. He also thought that the princess had understood him enough by now not to be misled by such nonsense about him; he had made his disgust for any kind of relationship quite clear.
Niffty hopped ahead of him up the stairs as he headed to his room. He had to admit to himself that the little cyclops had been an excellent ally that day, and he almost regretted treating her brusquely that morning. If there was one thing he was learning with Charlie's arrival, it was that his staff were more alert and useful than he would have expected. He had never inquired much about them; Husk had been in his sights for a while, and thanks to gambling, he had managed to obtain his soul, but Niffty had practically given herself over to him. She hadn't been in Hell for long, and she had started following him like a loyal dog, but her madness had never bothered him; on the contrary, he found it invigorating. The day he proposed the deal, she didn't think about it for a second; she only asked in return to be able to make herself useful. At first, he collected anyone, making very little distinction; only later, and having reached a certain amount of power, he focused on the souls of Overlords like himself. Inquiring about her past seemed a futile detail, the same thing concerning Husk. All he knew about them was that they belonged to him and that they amused him; the rest was an irrelevant detail.
He watched her go toward the upper floor, remaining perplexed. - Chérie, aren't you retiring tonight? -.
Niffty turned around with a pirouette. - Husk doesn’t want Angel to sleep alone with his body, so they decided to sleep upstairs and I'm joining them! -.
Understandable, a situation like this would increase her nightmares, he thought, remembering how many times she had woken Husk up in the middle of the night. Sometimes she had pushed herself as far as his room, but he had gently steered her toward her own bed. He tolerated her because he found her amusing, but no one could ever sleep in his bed or torment him like that. Over time, she had automatically stopped coming even during the worst sleepwalking crises, which diminished year by year. She babbled some names unknown to him, but he had never inquired further. As long as she remained useful during work hours, he didn't need to know anything else. He certainly felt a sort of affection, as far as his character allowed him; she was one of the few creatures, along with Rosie and Husk, with whom he found it pleasant to spend his free time, and he worried about her to the extent of any master with a modicum of sense, but never more than necessary. She was also the only being from whom he did not completely hate physical contact, along with Rosie, also because both voluntarily kept it to a minimum and limited themselves to quick pats that lasted no more than a few thousandths of a second.
- Good, then goodnight - he greeted her, heading toward his room.
The door to the princess's room suddenly opened, and he found her on the threshold looking nervous. He continued to find certain expressions on her face repulsive, especially when they risked making him look like a softy, but he tried not to glare at her and instead gave her an accommodating smile, waiting for her to ask whatever question was buzzing in her brain.
- Listen… not to be mean… but I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving you to sleep alone with my body either - she stammered nervously.
Alastor felt his throat close to the point where he thought he would stop breathing. He hadn't considered that actual issue for a second, even because, truthfully, he didn't feel at ease about it either. However, his brain so strongly rejected the idea of sleeping with someone that he hadn't even remotely considered that possibility, not even being brushed by a wild idea like that.
He swallowed hard, straightening his back. - Very well - he whispered, now exhausted. - I will sleep on the sofa in your room, chérie -.
She widened her eyes and pulled her ears back, making him wonder if those movements were intentional or if she hadn't gotten used to those appendages yet. - No, absolutely not, I'll sleep there, and you in my bed. After all, I raised the issue -.
Alastor passed her, sizing her up. - There’s a size problem, I’d like to point out that in this body I’m much shorter than you, and in any case, I would never allow such a discourteous thing -.
Charlie pursed her lips. - I’m not short - she grumbled resentfully. - But thank you for your concern -.
- I didn't say you're short; your stature is perfect for a woman - he cut short, going to sit on the sofa and stretching out, staring at the chandelier hanging in the centre of the room.
She came close to him again, observing him hesitantly. - Should I… give you pyjamas? -.
- Only if they’re not the ones from today; they’re made of a synthetic fabric that irritates the skin. How you can endure a garment of such low quality remains a mystery to me - he answered sharply, watching her expression change with every word until her eyes narrowed into two scarlet, offended slits.
Charlie crossed her arms over her chest. - Take one of yours; they’ll surely fit you since I’m shorter - she huffed. - I’d put on my synthetic pajamas if only they fit you! -.
He shuddered at the mere thought of seeing himself in such a ridiculous garment and struggled to push back the sense of annoyance that image had caused him. It was already humiliating enough to see those fragile expressions and behaviours on himself.
His shadow hastened to fetch a blanket and pyjamas for both of them, and they changed. Both kept their eyes closed, but he felt a morbid curiosity begin to invade his limbs. For a fleeting moment, the idea of half-opening his eyelids to see what he had glimpsed that day crossed his mind, but when he became aware of it, he clenched his eyes even tighter. He didn't want to risk experiencing such an absurd and annoying sensation again, especially since he wasn't entirely clear what caused it. He was sure that the smoke was an aphrodisiac, but he was not so sure what kind of reactions a woman’s body should have to certain stimuli. He didn't want to investigate what that annoying dampness was; he only knew that it had been caused by those factors, and he didn't care to investigate further.
The mere thought of what had happened, however, made that strange fire flare up again, and he clenched his jaw to the point where he could hear his teeth grind. He shouldn't let go, not again. It had already been degrading enough to let such a thing happen, but that blood was such a powerful call that it made him lose the compass of his reasoning. The terror that something else was attracting him didn't touch him in the slightest; he was certain it was only due to that. It had to be that way.
Once they finally finished, he lay back down on the sofa. He had slept in much worse places for a period in his life; therefore, sleeping there was not in itself a problem, but rather the situation he found himself in. Even in the darkness of the room, he could hear the princess's agitated sighs, her constant moving left and right, and the rustling of the blankets that were first moved and then pulled back in an endless, exhausting ballet.
- Problems, chérie? - he asked, staring at the darkness in front of him.
Charlie turned the lamp on the bedside table back on, sitting up in bed while wringing her hands. He was sure that if it were his own body, she would have started biting her index fingernail again, but sinking her teeth into that type of claw wouldn't be as pleasant or comforting.
She kept her eyes focused on the quilt, breathing slowly and tensely. - It’s just that I want to ask you something, but I don't know how you’ll take it -.
He wearily rubbed a hand over his eyes before propping himself up on his elbows to look at her. - Tell me - he whispered, unable to hold back a tone that was at least irritated. He had spent too little time alone that day, and his tolerance for the presence of others was definitely wavering.
The princess pulled her ears back and lowered her gaze again before speaking. - The day of the kitchen fire, I saw something… I mean, I noticed that you have… marks. I was wondering what they were -.
For a moment, his mind went blank, leaving space only for what had been there. He had always had scars on his body, even when alive. In death, they had remained, even if no longer related to the abuses suffered, but rather to the bites of the mastiffs that had chased him to the bayou. Yet, at that moment, it wasn't the dogs' teeth that came back to his mind, but those blades, belts, cigarettes even, things he had long confined to the darkest corner of his mind and which he now thought were healed wounds. However, the fact that she had asked it in that way, with his body and that expression, had momentarily reopened that locked door, when he was just a child and not the monster, before he built the beast he had become. He had been so fragile, but so much time had passed that the memory seemed almost like a real fairy tale, imagined and never actually existed. It was ironic that whatever happened, the cure was always a berry or strawberry tart, a smell that was clinging to him at that moment, opening that scar even more.
- What exactly did you see? - he asked, trying to deflect the conversation and blinking to return to the present moment, closing that chapter of his life in a distant corner of his mind again.
If possible, she became even more tense and started clutching the sheet between her fingers. - Well… at chest level, I saw scars. I mean, it wasn’t my intention to peek… but well… -.
He interrupted her with a few coughs; he couldn't bear that constant stammering, especially when spoken with his voice and his body. - Dog bites - he answered quickly. He could have invented some other lie, but he wasn't reluctant to talk about the way he died, and in reality, he wouldn't have been about what he was doing either if it hadn't been the princess.
Charlie widened her eyes. - So, they were made when you were alive? Did you work with animals? -.
In a sense, I worked with pigs, he thought ironically, lying back down so as not to look at her and staring at the shadows projected on the ceiling. - Yes, they were made when I was alive, and no, I didn't work with dogs. They simply mistook me for a prey -.
A sound of pain reached his ears. - Did you die like that? Torn apart? -.
She sounded sad at that hypothesis, as if she genuinely cared about how much he might have suffered at the point of death. It had hurt, that was certain, and the bullet the hunter had shot him in the forehead had come as a relief, but it was nothing compared to everything that came before.
- Yes, although the coup de grâce came from a rifle. Not exactly the best death - he commented with a bitter smile. - I hope this puts an end to your curiosity about my past, because I won't go any further -.
The sounds of her nervous movements were a clear signal that she wanted to ask more, but he would not talk further about that subject; in fact, he would not talk further about anything in his past. To emphasize the concept even more, he whispered a second “Goodnight” and waited for her to turn off the light again. When the room fell silent, interrupted only by their respective breaths, his thoughts began to gallop toward shores he hadn't visited for a long time, and no concentration could erase them.
The physical and mental pain suffered in those years began to resurface, as if that question and the sight of himself in such a fragile state had awakened a part of his soul he thought had been dead for a long time, long before he arrived in Hell.
No, I don't accept it, he thought angrily, turning onto his side. His nose met the mass of the princess's hair, and he began to inhale that familiar scent again, which, just like then, was capable of calming everything, along with the kisses on the forehead his mother used to give him every time.
He found himself thinking that it had been foolish of her to think that a tart and a hug were enough to keep him safe, to heal the wounds that constantly came upon him. As much as he knew she had done her best to protect him, she still hadn't, and so he had protected himself. He had killed himself, buried what good there was, and voluntarily chosen to build that personality he had sewn onto himself like a new suit. Over time, he had truly forgotten ever being so weak, vulnerable, pathetic. He had grown up, evolved, and killed the wolf he was so afraid of, first becoming a hunter and then a beast in turn.
Blood had become the balm for that fear he had felt for too long, transforming him into what instilled fear in the hearts of those he met, and those new clothes had first become a shield and then a pleasant reality. He did not regret the murders, the bloodshed, the cruelty, and all the barbarities committed in life; in fact, perhaps he regretted not having started sooner. How many harassments he would have spared himself if only he hadn't been a stupid, pathetic boy incapable of raising his head, too accustomed to seek his mother's caress rather than a knife.
I only regret not having killed you in Hell too, he thought with a hint of bitterness, as the image of that face that had tormented him in life appeared before him. He had looked for him for a long time until a mutual acquaintance warned him that one of the Exorcists had definitively taken his life. Obviously, he made sure to eliminate that inconvenient witness to his past; it was not appropriate for anyone to ever know what had been before he became the killer who had terrified the hearts of his victims with a smile.
He inhaled even more deeply and, just like the child he thought was dead, he found himself half-closing his eyes and being caught by sleep, a single thought continuing to repeat itself like a calming lullaby.
He is dead, and I am born.
Charlie woke up in the middle of the night with a dry, pasty mouth.
Her sleep had been restless, and no matter what position she lay in, she couldn't find a comfortable one, and when she finally thought she had succeeded, thirst had set in.
She lifted her head slightly and in the dim light saw Alastor turned on his side with his back to her. He seemed deeply asleep at that moment, and to avoid waking him, she slipped out of bed, putting on the slippers he had given her and tiptoeing out, trying to make as little noise as possible. The shadow, wherever it was, did not seem to follow her, and she headed towards the kitchen with light steps and a heavy mind.
She had obtained the answers about those scars, but she still gained little from it. Alastor's death had been, in her opinion, horrible and painful, but he didn't seem troubled by it at all. Was that just the tip of the iceberg of the pain he had suffered, or was it simply so far in the past that it no longer touched him in any way? She would have also liked to ask him why dogs were chasing him, what kind of business had led him to an area clearly intended for hunting. In some ways, however, she considered herself satisfied with their conversation; she had at least gotten an answer to what had been tormenting her.
Once she finished drinking, she went back upstairs, but in the corridor, she crossed paths with Husk. The small eye was half-closed, and he looked exhausted. - Are you alright?- she asked him, concerned.
He sighed wearily. - No, but Angel seems to have the situation under control - he slurred between yawns before disappearing into his room.
She was uncertain about what to do but finally chose to go and see what was happening. She quietly climbed the stairs, finding the living room door open. One of the wall lamps was on, and she saw Angel's head pop up from behind the back of the sofa, greeting her with an equally tired and dazed look.
- Did we wake you? - he asked with a voice that was still thick.
She shook her head, approaching him and seeing Niffty also stretched out on the sofa. Angel was hugging her, and she had her temple resting on his chest, while her eyes were semi-open and lost in space. She seemed halfway between sleep and wakefulness and didn't even realize Charlie had arrived.
- What happened? - she asked worriedly, crouching down near her and stroking her messy and sweaty tuft of hair.
Angel sighed, massaging his eyelids. - She had a nightmare. Husk told me it’s not uncommon, even though they had decreased recently. She woke up calling for her brothers, if we can call them that -.
- Charles… Paul… - Niffty stammered, then suddenly looked at her. - Paul, it's been so long since I’ve seen you -.
Charlie blinked, confused, then gently stroked her again. - Sweetie, I’m not Paul, I’m Charlie -, answering that way seemed absurd, considering that she was currently in Alastor's body, and the demoness didn't seem lucid enough to simply understand who was in front of her. That answer would probably only confuse her more.
Niffty's eyes became moist, and she sniffled. - I’m sorry, you remind me so much of him -.
She sat down more comfortably in front of her, then held out a hand for her to squeeze. - So they were your brothers? -.
She saw Niffty staring blankly at the hand she was holding, while Angel continued to gently and thoughtfully stroke her forehead. - We were all brothers at St. Agnes - she whispered. - But they were the best, they always protected me -.
Charlie stroked the back of her hand with her thumb while seeking her gaze. - What was St. Agnes? -.
- An orphanage, but not a nice one - she began in a voice that was tired yet chirpy at the same time. - The director liked violence, especially on the little girls. That’s why I lost an eye, but Paul and Charles took care of me and said they wouldn't let it happen again -.
She and Angel exchanged a worried look, especially because she was talking about it in such a sing-song voice that she almost sounded cheerful, and a strange smile was beginning to appear on her lips.
- Then we ran away; we lived on the street, stealing -. she continued. - At one point, I was hired as a maid in an old man’s house. I made them hide in the basement and brought them food, but he was a meanie, just like the director. Only it didn’t even hurt me anymore; in fact, it almost seemed fun -.
Angel stopped stroking her, his hand trembling. - Sweetie, maybe you should sleep now -.
Niffty didn't seem to hear him and continued talking, meanwhile tightening her grip on the hand Charlie had given her. - One night, I decided to find out if he liked it too, but he died. Charles and Paul were blamed; no one believed it could have been a one-eyed woman. I returned to the streets, but alone. So I thought it would be fun to see if the director liked her punishments too… she died too, and after that, I tried to fly, because I finally felt free -.
At that point, the grip was so strong that it hurt, and despite Charlie trying to pull away, she couldn't break free. Niffty giggled with amusement as she talked about those deaths and her own, and Charlie started to break out in a cold sweat. It wasn't what she had done that shocked her, but the consequences she carried with her even in death. The nightmares, the madness, and the sadness were still with her, and it would take time to take them away from her. Who knows how long she had felt this way.
Angel resumed stroking her, hoping it would make her release her grip on Charlie’s hand. - And do Husk and Alastor remind you of Charles and Paul? -.
Suddenly, Niffty's heterochromatic eyes focused on her, and the crazy smile on her face began to soften, her grip loosening. - Paul always smiled too; he said it was the only thing they could never take away from him -.
Charlie's heart broke under the force of that look and that last sentence, pronounced with the same sweetness a child would have. Suddenly, many of the things she had seen Niffty do became clear to her: her fascination with blood and violence, a probable emotional response to the abuse suffered. Perhaps internalizing them in that way was her only weapon for survival, turning them into a source of pleasure instead of suffering. Her mind, however, did not hold up for long, and in the end, it fractured, dragging away whatever good there might have been. Her earthly life had taken everything from her, leaving her alone and with few choices, and Charlie didn't feel like blaming her for her crimes.
What would she have done in her place? Would she have had the strength to live the same? To react somehow? Murder was not the answer, but what other choice had she when every other option seemed denied to her, and when her mind had been completely fractured?
She felt her eyes moisten and moved closer to hug her, pressing Niffty's face against her chest. She had to find her brothers, to find out if they had ended up in Hell or Heaven. Maybe seeing them again would cure the fear that gripped her in the middle of the night and that she tried to console with the presence of people who somehow reminded her of her lost brothers.
- I missed you - Niffty whispered, as her body went slack and she suddenly succumbed to sleep.
She pulled away and sat down on the small table, while Angel didn't move from his position, his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him. - Damn, we're all pretty messed up - he muttered. - I knew about her brothers, but not the story about the orphanage and the old bastard -.
- It makes me feel so awful - she let out, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. - Even though she was wrong to kill -.
Angel turned his feline eyes on her, almost wanting to glare at her. - In my opinion, she did the right thing, far from being wrong. Who knows what that drooling old pig did to her -.
Those words left her shocked. - You can't be serious; I understand the situation, but murder is never the solution -.
Her friend let out a snort mixed with a laugh. - Trust me, if people like that were wiped out, the world would be better, and not so many of us would end up here in Hell - he replied, as he laid Niffty down on the sofa so he could stand up and reach a packet of cigarettes abandoned on the side table near the decanter. - You grew up here, where evil is obvious. It’s much worse when it’s hidden and you have no way to defend yourself, when it’s done to you by people you thought cared about you. Niffty is the obvious result of corrupt justice, but at least a resolute one -.
Charlie remained speechless, listening to him, while she suddenly felt that everything she had believed in was becoming hazy, difficult to understand. The shades of grey were becoming more numerous, and human life more complex, but she was still certain that death could not be the solution to abuse.
- Are you telling me that on Earth there's no way to get justice differently? If that were the case, Heaven should be empty - she tried to say with as much conviction as possible.
Angel exhaled a dense cloud of smoke from his lips before focusing his bright eyes on her again. - I care about you, and I truly want to believe in what you’re doing, or I wouldn’t be here. But you have to get it into your head that only those who had an easy path from the start go to Heaven; those who are broken like us end up down here. We're damaged goods from the first breath - he replied in a hard tone, before turning his eyes back to the window to observe the street. - In a different life, in a different place, maybe I wouldn’t even be here right now -.
On that day, she found herself grappling with a reality she never expected. There were so many things she didn't know about humans; they were so complex and fascinating. She had only scratched the surface and thought she could give them a path to find liberation. How could she think such a thing when the reality of the facts and those lives kept slapping her in the face like that? She had stupidly thought it was enough to ask them to be good and have faith, and she hadn't asked herself what was in their past, in their hearts, and what kind of path had led them to the choices they made to arrive in that place.
- You are special, Charlie; you were born in Hell, yet you are good. That rarely happens on Earth, I can assure you. I don't want you to lose that light because of what I said - her friend whispered, throwing the cigarette butt out the open window before closing it again. - Now go to sleep; we are all tired, and I don’t want to deal with a Smiles woken up in the middle of the night -.
She wanted to answer him somehow, to tell him that she wanted to know more, but at that moment, her mind and heart seemed on the verge of exploding, and she could only nod sadly before heading for the stairs and descending to the lower floor. She walked down the dimly lit corridor with slow, dragging, tired steps. She felt so useless at that moment, so incapable of helping them with their problems. By what right could she set herself up as a judge and counsellor of a life she didn't know? And above all, what parameters did Heaven use to admit a soul?
She needed to know more, not only about the human world but also about the faith that drove them and what they considered right and wrong. There were nuances in those commandments; she had to grasp them to be able to give direction to the teachings she wanted to impart to them. If Angel was right and there really was a light in her, she wanted it to become the lighthouse of hope for each of them, to lead them out of the darkness of Hell into which they had fallen due to adverse fate.
She entered her room, took the papers she had made so far and which the others had returned to her, being very careful not to wake Alastor, and went out again.
At that point, the shadow appeared out of nowhere, observing her with a perplexed look and asking her with gestures what she intended to do. - I intend to modify them; I have to truly know them, and now I understand what to ask -.
The shadow tilted its head to the side but finally shrugged and followed her.
Charlie had literally collapsed onto the table. She had erased and redone those questionnaires from scratch, keeping only some of the initial questions she had asked, partly so as not to eliminate those that Alastor had already answered. The shadow had stayed with her all night, but eventually, her eyelids became so heavy that her head had fallen forward.
Some noises reached her ears, and when she lifted her head, she felt a sharp pain in her neck, and one of the questionnaires was stuck to her right cheek. When she managed to fully focus, she found Alastor in front of her, staring at her with a mixture of irritation and curiosity, a cup of coffee in his hand, which he placed in front of her.
- Bonjour - he began, sitting down to the opposite side of the table. - Didn’t you manage to sleep? If I had known it would end this way, I wouldn't have bothered sleeping on the couch -.
It took her a while to collect her thoughts; her shoulders and neck hurt so much that she struggled to sit up straight, and even her head started to pound. Staying up all night and ending up asleep on a table hadn’t been a great idea, especially given the consequences she was now suffering. She peeled the paper off her face and placed it on the table, then took the mug the demon had offered her and started to drink. The coffee was, of course, black and terribly bitter, but at that moment, she needed something to keep her awake and alert.
- I’m sorry, I woke up yesterday and heard Niffty’s story… I couldn’t stop thinking about it - she whispered, lowering her gaze to the pages that had been erased and rewritten a thousand times.
Alastor picked one up and brought it to his face, quickly scanning it with his eyes. - Have you decided to become a psychologist, chérie? These look like the questions a shrink would ask - he commented with a subtle chuckle.
She gave him an annoyed look and took the paper back. - You can’t see them beforehand; that would be cheating. And anyway, what Niffty said really made me think -.
The Radio Demon raised an eyebrow. - And what exactly does her past contain that has troubled you to this extent? -.
Charlie was left speechless upon realizing that Alastor had no idea what Niffty had been through; she couldn’t believe he had truly never inquired. - Are you telling me you know nothing about Charles? About Paul? -.
He shrugged and resumed sipping his coffee in a composed manner. - Who are they? Ex-husbands? -.
She angrily slammed the mug onto the table, risking staining all the notes she had worked so hard on. - They were her brothers - she hissed. - And you remind her a lot of one of them, just like Husk! Is it possible you’ve never even cared to ask her about her nightmares?! -.
Alastor’s eyes wandered across the tabletop for a few seconds, as if lost in some absurd thought, but finally, with a breath, he became calm again and didn't seem at all affected by her morning outburst. - As I’ve always told you, I am interested in the future we share, not a past that cannot be changed anyway, which is why I am so reluctant to talk about mine and have no interest in prying into others’ -.
- But you’re her friend! - she shouted back, standing up. - How can you not care?! -.
Alastor gave her an icy stare. - Charlie, I make a great distinction between friends and collaborators. In Niffty and Husk’s case, not only is our relationship a simple working one, but I am effectively their master, and you know this. I would gain no benefit from snooping into their skeletons in the closet; in fact, it would bore me -.
- That is a cold and selfish thing to say! How can you expect to improve if you continue along this line?! -.
- That’s what I have you for, chérie. I trust you will be able to give me some new perspective over time - he replied, leaning back in his chair and giving her a satisfied, victorious smirk.
She raised a finger to reply, but no phrase seemed adequate to counter that overly linear reasoning. He had offered to follow her redemption plan, and it was indeed up to her to present him with a useful path for self-improvement and changing who he had been. From the very first impression, Alastor had seemed like someone who kept others at a distance, perhaps to avoid dealing with his own feelings. She believed that if he let anyone get too close, he would end up losing that austere and detached aura he always had, and this made her reflect. A response like that gave her a lot to work with. Moreover, every time they argued so openly, she felt she could trust him a little more, because she no longer saw him as a flatterer but rather as someone genuinely curious about her idea.
- Good, then I’d say this trial fits perfectly. This way, by putting yourself in my shoes, you can be the one to ask the others the questions - she replied, handing him the papers.
Alastor looked at the papers, then at her, with an ironic expression. - I would like to point out, however, that as much as I sincerely want to commit to this folly, I am not exactly a person who encourages others to open up; that is your field -.
She gave him a subtle, sly smile. - All the more reason to start learning -.
The astonished look he gave her made her realize that she had hit a nerve with that reply, and perhaps, for the first time, she had truly managed to catch him off guard. Since they had met, he had always had a quick answer for everything, and it was nice to see that for once, it had been her who put him in difficulty; it made her feel strangely more self-assured.
All that joy vanished the moment Alastor snapped out of it and pulled a stack of business cards she knew very well from his pyjama pocket. - Speaking of putting yourself in your shoes and carrying out your ideas, what were your intentions for these? - he asked seriously, placing the cards that Keelan had left her the day they went to the beach.
Her saliva caught in her throat, and she found herself sinking her head into her shoulders. - Well… um… excuse me, but where did you get those? - she tried to say, hoping to change the subject.
The Radio Demon lowered his eyelids. - Charlie, chérie, it’s hard not to notice cards abandoned on your dresser in plain sight; they weren’t exactly hidden -.
Damn my mess, she thought forlornly, taking a step back and raising her palms in front of her. - Okay, I wanted to talk to you about it, but then the Heaven trial came up, the body swap, and… okay, I’m sorry, alright? -.
Alastor listened impassively, his chin resting on his palm and his eyes half-closed. - The fact that I said I would never put these cards in my club should have been enough to make you understand that I wouldn’t appreciate something like this. What made you think otherwise? -.
Charlie buried her face in her hands, now in exasperation, not to mention that the fatigue from the sleepless night was starting to set in, and her intellectual capacity at that moment didn’t allow her to formulate sufficiently astute answers.
All she managed to do was shrug and smile innocently. - Well… I was hoping to convince you -.
- My answer remains no, end of discussion -.
- Please -.
A piercing glare reached her, and she forced herself to fall silent. - I do not aid the competition under any circumstances, and besides, this is not an advertising billboard; it is a class establishment -.
She sighed, defeated, trying to take the cards back to hide them and try to propose them again later when things were calmer, but he took them and put them back in his pocket, indicating with his gaze that he would not permit such a thing.
Defeated and now exhausted, she dropped the subject, at least for a while, although she wouldn’t give up completely. She felt indebted to Keelan, and trying with a little more vehemence seemed like the least she could do, but at that moment, she truly didn’t have the strength.
She retreated to bed to catch up on lost sleep, and in the late afternoon, they began organizing the evening. The hardest part was gathering enough concentration to summon Alastor’s shadow creatures, but he proved to be an excellent teacher, also helped by years of practice in that context, and for the first moments, everything seemed to go magnificently. Niffty seemed to have recovered and, in fact, had virtually no recollection of their conversation. Husk had told her it wasn't uncommon for that to happen, although he couldn't say if it was true or just a simple act to ensure no one would ask her more than what she had already said.
Alastor, excluding the moments when he emphasized how important his role was that evening and helped her summon his shadow creatures, had been notably quiet and taciturn. Most of the time, he seemed lost in a thousand thoughts, and she was quite sure he was watching her carefully. He had stressed several times throughout the day that it was fundamentally important that her face not show an overly sweet or concerned expression because it could attract attention, and he seemed to get irritated every time he saw her do it.
- Angel, you’re supposed to serve them, not drink them! -.
Husk’s booming, high-pitched voice startled her, and she shifted her gaze from the Radio Demon, who was currently sitting at a distant table reading something. She turned towards the counter where her friend had just finished downing a shot and was staring irritated at his interlocutor.
- Then give me your flask; you can’t drink in that body anyway - he provoked with satisfaction.
Husk narrowed his eye. - I’d rather drink it now -.
She decided to intervene before they started arguing again. - Angel, maybe you should listen to Husk; after all, he’s been doing this job for a long time -.
Her friend made a dissenting noise, crossing his arms over his chest. - I need to taste the drinks I make to make sure they’re good -.
- Sure, so you can be drunk halfway through the service - the bartender immediately retorted.
- I can hold my liquor just fine; only the MD gives me weird effects -.
Charlie listened to the conversation with wide, staring eyes, not knowing how to respond to what she had just heard. She only recovered because she realized Alastor was looking at her again, and she wanted to show him one more time that she was perfectly capable of handling even that situation.
- Husk, you go to the kitchen with Niffty because tonight you’re the chef, not the bartender - she began.
He grumbled as he withdrew, but before Angel could gloat, she pointed her index finger at him sternly. - As for you, if you follow the measurements Husk gave you exactly, they’ll be perfect, so no sampling, or you pay for them. I’ll allow you to drink at the end of the service -.
Her friend crossed his arms over his chest. - And how much can I drink without paying? -.
Charlie raised her chin, trying to adopt a tough demeanour. - Three cocktails and one shot -.
- Four cocktails and three shots - he countered, leaning towards her.
- Two cocktail, two shots, and a digestif, final offer - she retorted, extending her hand.
- The digestif will not include my whiskey, be clear about that - Alastor interjected, keeping his eyes fixed on what he was reading.
Angel looked at the hand extended towards him and finally agreed to shake it. - Fine, I grant you that. I won’t touch a drop during the service -.
She returned the shake and smiled at him, trying not to look creepy, and resumed checking the club before the customers began to arrive. Charlie felt tense having to step into Alastor's shoes, but that evening, no one seemed to know him particularly well, so she limited herself to walking around the tables, as he had repeatedly and warmly advised her, asking if they needed anything and checking that the situation was under control. She realized that what she considered a simple gesture of courtesy concealed much more. By taking actions like these, Alastor could keep potential drunks under control, ask for them to be served more watered-down drinks to prevent them from causing trouble, or be able to understand if a dish needed revision or if it had been appreciated. It was a clever and quick way never to lose control of a situation, and she was almost admired by it. That task was proving increasingly useful for getting to know him and allowed her to feel less insecure. Not being in her own body gave her an extra boost, because she didn't have to worry about her appearance, and this reassured her. One of the things that had always made her feel uncomfortable about herself was her clumsiness and the knowledge that her princess status required her to be as perfect as possible, something she had never been able to do. That little trick was the perfect solution to that problem, also because it was like a performance for which she had extensively prepared.
She cast a fleeting glance at Alastor, who was sitting at the counter monitoring the situation. Few had approached him, perhaps because his eyes immediately conveyed the need to be alone.
They exchanged a look for a second, and he gave her a satisfied smile, to which she immediately responded. Perhaps, after all, they would be able to do some good for Hell.
Alastor watched Charlie move in his body with a mastery he hadn't thought she possessed. He had certainly done his best to give her useful lessons so he wouldn't look like an idiot, but he certainly didn't expect her to be so good.
From the glass porthole overlooking the kitchen, he observed Niffty in the celebrity's body, who, in turn, meticulously followed Husk in the preparation of the dishes, which came out impeccable as always. He truly had no idea about her past, and he hadn't been that shaken by what the princess had revealed to him. The little demoness's behaviour revealed an affection that went far beyond any friendly relationship, and now, the reverence she had for him and the reason she had followed him from the beginning in that manner made perfect sense. For a brief moment, he felt deep pity for her, especially since, from Charlie's account, it was evident that her past had been a flurry of horrors, though given her damaged psyche, he had already grasped that much earlier. Some reacted to pain with coldness, others with madness. His case had been a strange mixture of the two, a balance that, in his opinion, he had managed excellently.
He turned his gaze back to the princess, who confidently moved through the room in a perfect imitation of his person. Perhaps he wasn't the only astute observer between the two of them. She must have studied him extensively, because she was managing to impeccably imitate some of his movements, like gripping his cane behind his back with both hands or certain hand gestures when asking questions.
It would have been an interesting game of chess, if I didn't need to win, he thought with a hint of regret. She had become, besides a thorn in his side, a pleasant adversary in her requests, which he had no intention of fulfilling. That morning, she had put him in a difficult spot with the questionnaire story, and he had been pleasantly surprised, even if he, as always, held an ace up his sleeve, which in that case were Keelan's business cards. The initial plan was simply to make them disappear but having them in his pocket had allowed him to divert the conversation.
What she had asked him the night before; he had quickly buried so as not to have to think about it anymore.
He gave her a satisfied look, to which she responded with a barely noticeable but complicit smile. He returned to twirling the glass of sparkling wine he had ordered in his fingers, as it was the only thing the demoness seemed able to handle, and he was slowly savouring it. In front of him, Angel Dust moved quickly to serve the drinks and pass them to the shadow servants. The fact that she had managed to recreate them also left him quite taken aback, even though he hadn't let her notice it. To a less attentive observer, those emanations might seem the same as the previous ones, but he could see a spark in those empty eyes that he had never given them; they seemed more alive.
A promising demoness, he commented to himself, taking another sip and observing his reflection projected on the glass. He found himself wondering what it would be like to see her move with all that confidence even in the body that truly belonged to her, how those usually sweet eyes would change if veiled by a hint more of arrogance. He was certain she would be even more intriguing than she was at that moment. He had thought she was simply naive and easy to manipulate, but she had instead proven to be an invigorating and pleasant challenge; perhaps this year would be quite entertaining. He had become so good at getting what he wanted that he had almost lost the taste for conquest, but Charlie was somehow reawakening that pleasure.
He observed the slender fingers resting along the stem of the glass and the palm from which he had licked those crescents of blood just the previous afternoon, suddenly finding himself lost in the memory of that sensation. What he had done was absurd and illogical, but that event was not entirely unusual for him. In life, he had indeed already tasted human flesh, and with a certain pleasure. Again, he wondered what it would be like to taste that blood with his own mouth, feel it wet his lips, and be able to perceive all its nuances and aromas more fully.
An electric current ran down his spine again, and once more, that annoying warmth in his lower abdomen gripped him. In the reflection of the glass, he saw his eyes widen with the distress of that physical reaction, and he squeezed the stem with greater force.
Angel Dust suddenly appeared in front of him. - Everything alright? Did Charlie mess something up? -.
Not her directly, but her damn body, he thought, annoyed, trying to shift in the chair and stop keeping his legs crossed, as that pressure alone seemed to have intensified the sensation.
- Tell me something, does Valentino's smoke have any long-term effects? - he asked, feigning indifference.
The porn star looked at him for a long time before answering. - He played his usual game yesterday, didn't he? - he asked ironically. - Anyway, don't worry, it only lasts about twenty minutes, and I don't think it would have much effect on you -.
That answer did nothing to help the pervasive discomfort that feeling was leaving on him, mixed with a strange pleasure that was fuelled every time his mind replayed the image of that white palm traversed by the crimson blood, along with that of a Charlie more confident and stubborn than she had appeared at the beginning. Not to mention, he wasn't entirely sure what that physiological response could mean.
The demon fixed his eyes on him before giving him yet another arrogant smirk. – The infamous Radio Demon is getting horny? -.
He raised his eyes to stare at him and try to instil all the fear that body allowed him. - Try saying something like that one more time, and I swear I'll rip out your tongue and use it as a coaster - he whispered in a low tone, as a growl rose in his throat.
In response, Angel Dust resumed wiping the counter without losing his little smile. - Relax, I was joking. I know you're not the type -.
I sincerely hope so, he thought, alarmed, taking a long gulp from the glass and praying that it would manage to quell his agitation over that insane situation. - That's right, always remember that -.
- And anyway, there would be nothing wrong with it; sexual arousal is the spice of life. But have you ever even fucked? - he asked as he resumed mixing cocktails.
The temptation to smash the glass in his face was terribly strong. - You are playing with fire, and you know it. You have a lot to lose if I decide to interrupt our collaboration -.
- But you can't; Charlie would be upset - he teased.
Wait until this madness is over, and I will destroy you, he thought angrily, standing up and striding towards the back of the club, but not before getting behind him to whisper in his ear. - I don't think your superiors would be happy to find out where you spend your free time, remember that -.
The hairs on the demon's back stood up, and his breath suddenly hitched, while his throat seemed to struggle to swallow saliva. He couldn't suppress a satisfied smirk at that reaction and left him alone to reflect on what he had just said. He passed Niffty and Husk and slipped into his ground-floor study, closing the door behind him. His shadow had followed him and was staring at him tensely.
- I'm fine; it must be some kind of woman problem I'm not aware of - he cut short, as he slipped his fingers into the collar to loosen the grip of the bow tie on his throat.
His hands felt sweaty, and his mind kept replaying the image reflected in the mirror the day before. Those drops of water slowly running from his chin to his neck, and down to his chest, and the crimson eyes that looked like liquid lava. Would Charlie ever adopt that expression? And in what contexts?
No, this is too much, he thought again, kicking the chair in front of the desk forcefully and tipping it over, then resting his palms on the papers lying on the wooden surface as he tried to catch his breath.
He didn't care that this body couldn't handle alcohol; he needed a drink.
The evening service was coming to an end, and Charlie escorted the last remaining patrons out. She closed the door and took a long breath, a satisfied smile appearing on her face. Alastor had probably trusted her enough to leave her alone, because at some point in the evening, he had disappeared and hadn't been seen since.
She turned towards the others, who had gathered at the counter to toast the success of what had initially seemed like a crazy and impossible plan, but which had ultimately gone better than expected.
- And now, my fucking reward! - Angel exclaimed with satisfaction, pouring himself a drink and downing it in almost one gulp.
Charlie approached them with such cheerfulness that she could barely stand still. - Do you feel like serving me something too? -.
Her friend gave a thumbs up. - Of course! At least with that body, I don't have to worry about your total intolerance to alcohol! -.
Husk was sitting on a stool, looking at them with a dejected expression. - I hope tomorrow comes soon; I need a drink too -.
Niffty patted him on the shoulder. - You can drink if you want; I don't mind if you get drunk in my body -.
- The risk is that the hangover will be yours - Angel replied, shaking the ingredients over his head.
Whatever her friend had served her was so strong that even Alastor's throat felt it, and she found herself coughing and her eyes watering. - What is this? -.
- A Four Whites. It has vodka, tequila, white rum, and gin with a bit of strawberry flavour to give it a sweet taste - the other replied, who was probably drinking the same thing as if it were fresh water.
Husk made a disgusted expression. - Don't call that a drink; it's an abominable mixture for getting drunk fast -.
- Isn't that the point of drinks? -.
Charlie abandoned the idea of drinking and stood up to go look for Alastor, also because it was strange that he hadn't shown up even for the closing of the club. She looked for him in the kitchen and his study but didn't find him, so she quickly headed upstairs, but his room was also empty. Some noises coming from the upper floor made her realize he was probably up there, although she didn't understand why.
She quickly went up, and when she reached the living room, she found him sprawled in one of the armchairs, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other. On the small table in front of him, the decanter, once full, was almost half empty, and given his vacant look, she understood he had probably been drinking for a while.
- Alastor! - she yelled, walking towards him and snatching the glass from his hand. - What the hell are you doing?! You know I can't handle it -.
He swayed his head left and right, then gave her an amused smirk. - Princess, I've been drinking for a long time, and I've never gotten drunk... or at least not that often -.
When she saw him take a puff of the cigar, she took that away too, then extinguished it inside the glass. - Don't ruin my lungs! -.
- You're immortal, Princess; you certainly won't get any human disease - he mumbled, looking at the now-destroyed cigar. - And anyway, that was a quality cigar that paired perfectly with whiskey, though not in that way -.
Charlie was stunned; she couldn't understand why he had gotten himself into that condition and, above all, if he was even aware of it. Perhaps he simply hadn't considered it, exactly as had happened to Husk when he tried to drink in Niffty's body. However, it must be said that despite the evident altered state, he managed to maintain a sort of dignity.
- In any case, I think you should get yourself checked out; you're having strange hot flashes - he mumbled, as he tried to sit up straight so as not to slide down the backrest.
She looked at him perplexed. - What do you mean? Do you think I have a fever? -.
In response, he shrugged. - Do those born in Hell get sick? -.
It was useless to try and converse with him; he was probably delirious from the alcohol, and she found herself unsure of how to act. Surely, if she let the others see him in that condition, they would hold it against him for life, so she had to quickly get him to his room.
The shadow behind them watched the scene with feigned indifference, and she looked at it severely. - You could have stopped him! -.
It raised its palms in the air, as if to say it had tried but failed.
- Is the service over? We need to take inventory for tomorrow... and find some ice, for heaven's sake! - Alastor shouted, standing up but stumbling and nearly falling to the ground. - Your body is unbearable -.
- Where are you hot? - she asked.
His eyes widened, and he coughed with what looked like embarrassment. - I don't know... I feel hot... and damp -.
- It must be the alcohol; let's go to sleep - she replied, trying to approach him. - Now I have to help you down the stairs, or you'll break my leg -.
Alastor looked at the hand she was offering him with perplexity, but in the end, he seemed to gladly accept, offering her his elbow instead. The descent was quite difficult until they reached her room, and she managed to get him to lie down on the bed. He stared at the ceiling and kept one hand resting on his stomach; he didn't seem entirely present.
Charlie knew she should change him, but in that condition, he wouldn't be helpful. She therefore decided to leave him dressed and simply took off the red overcoat, leaving it on the sofa, and then went to sit there. Leaving him alone was out of the question, but she also knew his aversion to being too close to anyone, yet in his current state, if she made him sleep on the sofa, he would end up falling.
The shadow remained by its owner's bedside, watching him with amusement, perhaps unaccustomed to seeing him in that state. He was strangely quiet for a drunk person, but then again, there was nothing conventional about Alastor; he certainly wasn't going to become the life of the party just because of a few sips of whiskey.
She watched him lying there, lost in staring at nothing, and wondered if this might be the right moment to try asking him a few more questions; perhaps this situation would make him more open.
- Is this the first time you've gotten drunk, or has it happened before? - she asked, removing the bow tie herself, at least.
He moved the hand that was resting along the mattress to his face. - Drinking has always been a pleasure for me more than a way to dull the senses, but I admit that during my first drinks while alive, not having developed a sense of moderation, it happened. Of course, I didn't drink as well back then, also because the good stuff was kept far away from me -.
Wow, then it might actually work, she thought, stunned, realizing that this was the first time he had given her a detail about his earthly life without being forced to. - Your parents didn't want you to drink? Were you a rebel? -.
A weary laugh escaped his lips. - My mother never appreciated those who didn't know how to moderate themselves -.
- And your father? Did he teach you to drink whiskey? - she asked again but realized that question must have bothered him greatly. His body had suddenly stiffened, and even his shadow seemed worried.
Alastor moved his hand from his face, placing that one on his stomach too. - I would prefer if you didn't mention him; in fact, I would prefer if you didn't talk anymore -.
Damn, I went too far, she told herself sadly, lowering her gaze to the wooden floorboards and clasping her hands together. - I'm sorry; I didn't think it was such a delicate subject -.
- Not everyone had the perfect family, Princess, but you should have understood that from Niffty's story - he admonished her.
Charlie felt anger hit her stomach and tighten it in a vice, causing her to jump to her feet and walk towards him to look down at him. - You don't know anything about my family either, so don't you dare pass judgment! -.
He looked at her sideways. - You grew up in affluence, far from the common people and the suffering that mortals carry, and with two loving parents, so they say -.
She clenched her fists together, narrowing her gaze. - I thought you were the first person not to believe rumours -.
- I don't believe rumours, but I know how people who have everything live. I'm only surprised you're not spoiled, that's all - he murmured, while his eyes wandered elsewhere.
- You know nothing about me, Alastor, nor I about you. Therefore, I would invite you to use the same consideration I have shown you, avoiding making hasty judgments - she spat out, feeling her voice crack with anger. - You can't know what's behind a closed door... you just don't know -.
What could he possibly know about how much suffering there had been before her mother's abandonment? Of all the arguments she had heard, covering her ears so as not to hear her screams. What did he know about all the times she had been the one to comfort her father, who, desperate, no longer knew how to keep that marriage going and would shut himself in his study, no longer having time even for her, while her mother slowly vanished from their lives. He wasn't there when she was left alone, at the moment she saw her mother pack her bags, kiss her forehead, and promise calls that never came. It had taken time to rebuild the relationship between her and her father after that event, and despite her young age, she had been the one to have to pull him out of his shell, make him resume his normal activities with the help of her aunts and uncles. What could he know about how much she had suffered when he denied her his support after all the time she had spent helping him?
Their eyes met again, and he seemed alarmed to see her with that distressed expression. - Chérie, please, don't make that expression -.
- What's wrong? Does it bother you to see pain or anger on your face? - she snapped again.
Alastor half-closed his eyelids and sighed. - Yes, it does - he replied in a whisper. - Also because it hasn't belonged to me for quite some time -.
Those barely whispered words were enough to make all her anger suddenly subside and reignite her curiosity even more strongly. - Alastor... what happened to you? -.
His eyes closed, and he took a deep breath. - Nothing. Now, I should go to sleep, as you can well imagine, I don't feel very well - he replied, turning onto his side. - You have my permission to sleep next to me, provided you don't touch me -.
She sighed, resigned. Untangling that intricate mess of the Radio Demon would require much more than a bit of alcohol. - Until proven otherwise, this is my bed and my body -.
- Go to sleep, ma chérie - he whispered, as his breathing began to regulate, and he buried his nose in the pillow.
Charlie gave up, realizing that at that moment, the battle with him was lost; she could only be happy to have gained a few more pieces of the intricate puzzle of Alastor's life. It was too early to speculate, but it was clear to her that the relationship with his father was a sore spot, as was physical contact. She might hypothesize some situation of abuse, but that seemed too simple an answer, as if it were obvious. Alastor had suffered something, but it wouldn't be as easy as with Niffty to get to the bottom of it; the wall he had built between himself and the rest of the world was too high, and she had barely scratched the first brick of the hundred that composed it. However, she felt that something was starting to move, that there might be hope.
She lay down beside him, keeping a respectful distance, and watched his shoulders rise and fall with his breathing. - Goodnight, Alastor -.
The first thing he smelled that morning was the intense smell of berries, but he had grown so accustomed to smelling it since he had been living in the princess's body that it didn't even seem so strange to him anymore. What actually surprised him was the fact that he felt no after-effects from all the alcohol he had drunk to quell that annoying sensation. The whiskey hadn't helped; in fact, in that state of disorientation, he found himself hating every reflective surface that transmitted Charlie's image back to him.
He slowly opened his eyes, but his breath suddenly caught.
He was back in his body.
And he was lying next to the princess.
And to top it all off, he was hugging her.
She was facing away from him, lying on her side, and he was close to her, his arm wrapped around her. His face was very close to her head, which was why he could smell that scent despite being back in his own body.
His first instinct would have been to immediately retreat, but he paused for just a second near her. The torso covered by the shirt rose and fell slowly, the cascade of messy blonde hair flowed onto the pillow like golden threads just touched by the light filtering through the slightly ajar curtain. He slowly moved his hand away from her and hoisted himself up on an elbow to look at her face. She was sleeping with her mouth half-open, her hands under her face, and her expression relaxed.
She probably hugged me before we went back to normal, he thought to comfort himself, desperately hoping that was why he had woken up in that absurd position.
He sat up, finally regaining control of his limbs and everything he had missed. Fortunately, the food the princess had eaten hadn't left any taste in his mouth, although his stomach seemed unsettled by the constant swallowing of sweets, or at least he blamed the strange sensation he felt upon waking on that. His face didn't seem to have lost the ability to smile, and it was a relief to feel that his cheeks hadn't lost the habit of tightening as they usually did.
No apparent damage, he told himself with satisfaction, standing up and straightening the shirt that had gotten wrinkled during the night.
A painful groan forced him to turn around, and he saw Charlie rubbing her face, stretching onto her back. - Oh my…my head feels like it's in a vice - she complained.
She still hadn't noticed that they were back in their respective bodies, and he quickly put on an amused smile. - Pardon, chérie. I thought the consequences would be mine -.
- Indeed, so why... OH SHIT WE'RE BACK TO US! - she screamed, jumping up on the bed and looking at him, then starting to touch her face.
He lowered his head and watched her throw herself back onto the bed while rubbing her temples. - To make amends, I offer to bring you something that will make these annoying after-effects disappear -.
Charlie rolled onto her side, covering her head with a pillow. - You better. If it's truly over, Ruben could arrive any moment to tell us the results - she whined desperately. - And I've never felt so bad. What did you drink?! -.
With a snap of his fingers, he put on less wrinkled clothes and retrieved his cane, heading towards the door. - Don't worry, I promise to set you right in less than half an hour -.
- You better - she groaned again, as he closed the door behind him.
When he was finally alone in the hallway, he could breathe a sigh of relief. Everything that had happened in those days was starting to be decidedly worrying even for him, and he had no idea how to manage it. The most rational part of him tried to blame everything on the body swap, on the fact that he had momentarily had to live in a situation he wasn't accustomed to, and that was why he had reacted in those absurd ways. Charlie was not a pleasant friendship; she was prey, and he had to treat her as such. There was no room for missteps in his plan; he had to go back to calculating every move as he usually did. It didn't matter how interesting she was starting to become, nor the fact that he found her sharper than he had initially thought. He was the wolf, she the lamb, and nothing should distract him.
Yet, deep within that soul he thought he knew like the back of his hand, a morbid curiosity towards that demoness was increasingly taking root; a desire to discover how far she could go when she truly wanted something and what was hidden behind that seemingly sweet face. There was a part of Charlie he hadn't thought could exist, and it was becoming a kind of call that he couldn't afford to follow.
He shook his head and dematerialized, reappearing on the lower floor, finding the bar counter in a disastrous state. The other three must have had quite the spree once left alone, and this irritated him greatly. He didn't tolerate things like that, but he would have a chance to remind Husk and Niffty of their place now that he had regained his true form.
A white card under the entrance door caught his attention, and he went to pick it up, opening it to see what was written on it.
He smiled amusedly, as a single thought crossed his mind.
I'm truly curious to find out how dear Charlie will react to this news.
Notes:
Good morning everyone :D
Our heroes are finally back in their respective bodies, but we have a mysterious note, probably addressed to Charlie! Could it be Heaven communicating the outcome of this first trial?
Let the theorizing begin!It was really tough to write this, especially because we finally unveil one of the pasts of the characters in this FanFiction (I know, probably not who you expected lol), but we also have a clue about Alastor and what lies behind his story. Curious?
I’d love to tell you more, but to follow a linear development of the character, we need patience—myself included, because I really can't wait to be able to talk to you about it T___T
I hope you liked it, and as always, thank you to everyone who reads this story.See you soon!
Chapter 13: Beneath the surface
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Charlie was furious. She couldn't stand still and kept pacing back and forth across the room in large strides, clutching the now crumpled note between her fingers. Because of all that rage, even the remnants of Alastor’s hangover, seemed to have dissolved, to the point that she had barely touched whatever he had brought her on that silver tray.
Once she had read what was written on the piece of paper, she had asked him to leave her alone and had practically imploded.
“You have completed the trial, we will let you know the outcome once all of them are concluded.”
That was the message they had left her; not even a slight mention regarding Heaven's actual oversight or even their mild opinion on what they had achieved.
How was she supposed to face the others? They had put in so much effort, each in their own way, and she wished she could give them different news; instead, she found herself without answers and with a piece of paper that said nothing but the obvious.
She felt mocked, fooled, and defeated. It seemed to her that all the commitment they had put in had not been recognized, to the point of dismissing them like that without even trying to give her any feedback.
I don't accept this, it’s absurd, she thought, growing more and more agitated, as she walked into the bathroom and began angrily combing her hair.
She wouldn't let them get away with it this time; she wouldn't pretend nothing happened and passively accept that insulting missive. She would go to the Embassy, demand an immediate meeting even if it meant renegotiating the terms of that agreement. They forced her to see Adam, but they didn't deign to give her a real chance, and if they had thought for a single moment that she was a naive fool, they were greatly mistaken.
She looked at herself in the mirror, reassured at least by the sight of her own face. Since she had embarked on that mad adventure, she was discovering more and more aspects of her character every day that she didn't think existed—perhaps compounded by the distance from home, which had made her grow more than she had expected, not to mention what she had discovered about the people around her. Niffty had suffered, as had Angel, and probably Husk, and who knows what the Radio Demon concealed behind that perpetual smile. Perhaps what gave her strength wasn't so much her desire to reach the goal, but the protective instinct toward those people for whom she was beginning to feel a strong responsibility.
She slipped on her ankle boots and her inseparable red jacket as she swiftly headed downstairs. She felt a vise grip her chest when she glimpsed the others through the glass overlooking the main hall, and she found herself hiding in a corner with her heart pounding.
She felt so guilty having to give them news like that; maybe she would even risk destroying their goodwill and the faith they had in that plan. She couldn't tell them everything; it wasn't right for them to know what was really happening, not before she had at least tried to put the pieces back together somehow.
She rubbed her face, trying to put on a serene and reassuring expression.
Maybe smiling like Alastor will help, she thought, pulling at her lips to force herself to look cheerful as always.
She walked in, trying to project as much serenity as possible, but in an instant, she felt practically overwhelmed by the curious glances of the three who were sitting at the counter with their cups and cereal taken directly from the pantry, since Camille seemed to have stopped sending crepes.
Alastor was sitting at the table with the newspaper in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. He only glanced away from the page for a second to look at her as if he were studying her, then snorted as if laughing softly before returning to his reading. She knew he had read the letter, but she had asked him to keep it a secret until she decided how to handle the situation.
- So? Did we pass the test, or did they fail all of us? - Angel asked, stirring his teaspoon absently in his cup.
Charlie hastened to regain her focus and forced her smile even wider. - Actually, it's not very clear, which is why I think I'm going to the Embassy to ask for further explanations -.
Alastor raised an eyebrow and looked at her again, neatly folding the newspaper on the table and giving her his full attention. He was probably curious to find out how she would handle that difficult situation.
Husk, who had retrieved his beloved flask, poured a good amount into his coffee. - They probably used an endless string of bureaucratic terms to tell us we didn't achieve a damn thing -.
His friend held out his hand to her. - Come on, let me read it, I'm sure I'll understand -.
- Said the one who signed a deal that binds his soul and didn't even read it - the cat demon grumbled.
- If I recall correctly, he wouldn’t be the only one here - Alastor commented with a mocking little smile on his lips.
The bartender let out a low growl and pulled his ears back, muttering some incomprehensible words under his breath.
She raised her hands in the air and took a step back. - I can't let you read it; it's private, and I wouldn't want it to be taken as a gesture of distrust -.
The Radio Demon widened his smile further. - Besides, it's not polite to read other people's correspondence -.
She gave him an annoyed look. - Indeed, Alastor, it is not polite - she hissed in response, before turning her attention back to the other guests. - I promise that as soon as I get clarification, I'll tell you everything. In the meantime, you guys resume your normal activities. We'll meet before dinner to discuss what I've discovered -.
Angel scrutinized her from head to toe carefully before getting up to head toward the kitchen. - Alright, but I want the details, and anyway, I don't know if I can be here tonight. Val will make me recoup these days of absence with interest -.
Hearing those phrases from her friend only increased her pain and anger about what had happened. She could only remain silent with her fists clenched tight, watching everyone head upstairs and walk past her like ghosts. That year was not over yet, but she could see in their eyes that they already felt they had lost, and this infuriated her, especially because she had seen how hard they had tried to do their best.
She turned toward the Overlord, who was watching her with his fingers intertwined under his chin and a wide, tight-lipped smile, his eyelids half-lowered. - I see that you are improving in the art of rhetoric. You must have had an excellent teacher -.
Charlie snorted air through her nostrils as she gave him yet another irritated look. - Stop it, Alastor, and please avoid mentioning it to the others before I go to the Embassy -.
- And how do you plan to get an appointment with such short notice? It doesn't seem like the Angels are particularly inclined toward last-minute appointments - he commented, beginning to examine his nails with indifference.
She stamped her feet nervously, stepping past the counter and heading toward the door. - Oh, trust me, I'll convince them -.
Alastor got up, grabbing his cane and moving to her side. - I appreciate this change in your personality, chérie, but we both know that toughness is not among your qualities, which is why I would suggest greater foresight -.
- Fuck the foresight! - she snapped, then put a hand over her mouth as she realized how she had spoken.
Even the Radio Demon seemed shocked because his eyes widened and his ears twitched nervously; it must have been a reaction he hadn't expected either. However, the fact that things had taken that turn had made her blood boil, and she absolutely wanted to fix it as soon as possible.
An insistent knocking at the door forced them to stop their conversation, and Charlie turned slowly toward it with an annoying twitch in her eye. She didn't want to believe it could be who she thought it was.
- Alastor? Are you home? -.
I don't want to believe it, she thought, stunned, as Camille's voice reached her ears. She thought the situation was finally resolved, that the speech she had given her the day before was clear enough to make her back down, but instead, it had been useless. She was seriously beginning to understand all of Alastor's irritation toward that woman; she would be capable of making even the kindest being in Heaven lose patience.
Alastor massaged his temples. - Insupportable woman - he hissed.
Charlie was now engulfed by the fire of rage and could no longer hold back. She stepped past Alastor and opened the door, finding the demon dressed to the nines and wearing so much perfume that it almost made her dizzy. As soon as Camille saw her, she gave her an annoyed expression, squinting her feline eyes and immediately changing her demeanour.
- Always in the way, aren't you? -.
Okay, that’s enough, she thought, enraged, pointing her index finger at her. - No, the one who is always in the way is you! -.
She was surprised herself by that sudden fury and firmness; she was probably just venting the frustration accumulated during that period, but damn, she needed it, and Camille had shown up at the right time.
The other woman's eyes widened before she planted her closed fists on her hips and confronted her. - Listen to me, I don't know who you think you are, but… -.
- The fucking Princess of Hell, that’s who I am! - she yelled, stepping toward her and forcing her to back up, while she felt her horns press against her forehead and her body heat up. - And you'd better remember that, understand? So get out of the way! If he hasn't even remotely responded to your provocations for months, don't you think there's a reason?! What the hell do you have in your brain, acorns?! -.
Oh gosh, I'm exaggerating, she commented internally, while trying to regain control of herself.
That attempt went down the drain when Camille, with enviable brazenness, began to poke her shoulder with her index finger and resumed speaking. - You've only been here for a short time, what do you know about what he wants? -.
She was close to exploding at that point, but she managed to restrain herself enough to avoid incinerating her. - What are your problems, can someone tell me?! It's obvious that he's not interested in anything or anyone! A bottle of whiskey would have a better chance than any other being on the planet! Now, go away! -.
After saying that, she retreated before laying hands on her, slamming the door in her face, quite sure she had hit her squarely given the pained yelps that followed.
Only then did she look at the Radio Demon, who remained motionless in the centre of the room. His crimson eyes were wide, his smile decidedly less noticeable and stiff, as if that explosion of fury had left him completely dumbfounded and unable to make one of his usual comments.
Charlie tried to straighten her jacket but found herself even more irritated by that silence that was becoming almost deafening. - Well? Did I do something wrong? -.
Alastor twitched his ears in the air before regaining his natural nonchalance and plastering a wide smile on his face. - Absolutely not. I would call it a masterful discussion -.
Meanwhile, the Radio Demon’s shadow was gloating, and she immediately understood what she was thinking. - Alright, you won the bet! But we'll talk about that later, now I have to go to the Embassy -.
The Overlord looked first at the shadow and then at her. - What are you two talking about? And can you understand each other now? -.
She dismissed him with a wave of her hand before checking that Camille had actually left and starting to walk out. - Have him explain it to you, and in the meantime, please avoid alluding to what was written in the letter, understood? Take your stroll and we'll meet back here for lunch - she then turned toward the shadow. - And no raw meat, I hate it! -.
Alastor stood for several seconds staring at the closed door in front of him, while the image of that resolute and strong Charlie, whom he had only imagined until the day before, replayed in his mind. It was astonishing how difficulties were capable of forging a person's character, even if only momentarily transforming what seemed at first glance like a lamb into a fierce beast. It certainly wasn't the kind of discussion he would have engaged in, but that firmness in her voice, that authoritative way of responding, and especially the way she had commanded him to be ready before lunchtime...something in that demeanour had reopened that nauseating abyss in his stomach and further fuelled his intense desire to discover what lay beneath that sweet face.
He shook his head vigorously, then focused his eyes on his own shadow projected on the wall behind him, which was fluttering in the air with its arms behind its back and a satisfied smile, which faltered the moment Alastor gave it a frigid look.
- What are you scheming? - he whispered menacingly.
It shifted nervously, twirling its index fingers, then mimed various responses that he could only understand thanks to all the years they had spent in close contact.
- I don't care if you wanted to make a bet, you could have asked for anything else! Let it be clear to you, we are not going to any lunch or dinner -.
The shadow followed him on the ground as he began walking down the street toward Cannibal Town. He hadn't been there for days and didn't want Rosie to come looking for him at the club. Plus, maybe he could ask her if she had any remedy for that constant discomfort in his stomach.
His faithful companion continued to impede his path, flailing its arms and complaining that he didn't want to accept its victory.
- Next time, learn to count your chickens before they hatch, and stop now, or I swear I'll unmake you as I made you - he warned it.
The creature, however, seemed untouched by the threat and glared at him, crossing its arms and adopting an expression that seemed to say, "Oh, please."
He was about to answer it again, but another shadow was projected on the pavement in front of him, and he immediately recognized the profile of that obscene top hat.
He looked up and found Lucifer before him, in his usual circus ringmaster attire, which he continued to find a terrible insult to good taste.
The King seemed particularly worn out; his eyes immediately revealed that he probably hadn't slept for days. His vest was buttoned incorrectly, and his jacket was crumpled, another sign that the seraphim was likely not in the best condition at that moment. He had probably come again to beg his daughter's forgiveness for what had happened, and Alastor allowed himself a wicked little smile, to which the other, however, answered with a vacant, lost look.
- Good morning, Your Majesty - he began in a sing-song tone, straightening his back and parodying a bow with his head. - If you are looking for your daughter, I'm afraid you won't find her at the club right now, but I think you might catch her for lunch -.
The shadow twitched nervously beneath him, but slamming his cane down a little harder seemed to quell that sudden rebellion. He didn't understand what was getting into it; it seemed constantly keyed up and much more insolent than usual.
The King sighed, distractedly twirling his cane between his clawed fingers. - Actually, I'm here to talk to you -.
Alastor was surprised by how that family possessed the extraordinary ability to make unpredictable moves; it must definitely be a hereditary trait. He chose to pretend nothing was wrong and adjusted his monocle on his nose, scrutinizing his interlocutor from head to toe.
- And what could the King of Hell want from a simple Overlord? - he asked rhetorically, without taking his eyes off him.
In response, he snapped his fingers, and a luminous portal opened behind him. - Follow me, I'd prefer to confer in private -.
The Radio Demon lowered his eyelids. - If your plan is to kill me, I fear someone might not be particularly happy about it - he continued, deliberately alluding to his daughter.
He didn't get the desired effect; Lucifer seemed completely uninterested in any barb he threw at him and simply stepped into the portal first. At that point, he didn't have much choice and could only follow him, after all, he was genuinely curious to discover what Lucifer wanted from him. He was probably intent on convincing him to help bring his daughter home, but he had no intention of doing so and would exploit that latest misstep to use it against him.
Poor idiot, you keep digging your own grave, he thought, stepping through the portal and finding himself inside what must have been Lucifer’s study. An indecent amount of yellow ducks with big eyes immediately assaulted his vision. Those rubber animals invaded the entire environment and seemed to scrutinize him right into his soul, and for the first time, he understood the true definition of Hell; he had just stumbled into it.
The King took a seat at his wooden desk, taking off his top hat and placing it on the surface, then inviting Alastor with a look to take the chair opposite him. He couldn't suppress a look of disgust when he saw that it, too, was overrun with rubber ducks that had some of his daughter's features.
What an obscenity, he commented to himself, taking his seat and glancing at his own shadow, which was instead observing those creations with curiosity and moving around the room as if searching for something.
- So, Your Majesty, I think I know the reason you brought me here - he began, leaning back and crossing his legs. - But as I have repeatedly stated, I have no intention of going back on my word. I believe in your daughter's idea and I intend to see it through -.
- Please, be silent and let me speak -.
That voice, so pleading yet firm at the same time, forced him to stop. Lucifer kept his eyes fixed on the rubber animals as if they were his only grasp on sanity, and at that moment, he seemed as fragile as his daughter, to the point that Alastor even considered having a real chance of taking him out. He dismissed the thought and fell silent, clasping his hands on his stomach and waiting to hear what he wanted.
Lucifer ran a hand through his blonde hair, clenching a few strands between his fingers. - I will never understand what Charlie sees in people like you. You're arrogant, a probable psychopath, and, if that wasn't enough, a manipulator -.
- But I also have my flaws - he interrupted with a low laugh.
The King raised his eyes, which for a second took on a crimson hue. - I told you to be silent -.
Alastor mimed zipping his mouth shut, meanwhile swinging his leg back and forth with insolence. There was something nonsensically amusing about irritating him that way, perhaps because it gave him a measure of how much power he truly had over the demon. Thanks to Charlie, he had somehow managed to hold the King of Hell himself in the palm of his hand.
- At first, I even thought about paying you, giving you anything just to leave her alone. I would have even sold you my soul - he continued.
For a second, Alastor felt a dull ringing pass through his eardrums upon hearing that phrase. He had dismissed Lucifer a priori from his plans because he seemed more unapproachable than his daughter, but that sentence had suddenly made it possible. Would merely promising to stay away from Charlie truly be enough to wrangle a deal out of him? It was all too easy, too good to be true.
You tried it, he thought, amused and pretending not to have understood his game. - If you allow me to interrupt, there is nothing you could offer me that is valuable enough to make me desist. I reiterate once again my fervent interest in this matter -.
He immediately detected disappointment in the seraph's eyes. That idiot had thought he could fool him that way; probably a microphone was hidden inside some horrible rubber duck to later reveal the truth to Charlie if he had agreed.
A true tempter, but not quick-witted enough, he told himself, remaining impassive in the face of that heartbroken gaze. Father and daughter resembled each other incredibly, yet those rare traits taken from the mother could change those eyes and those lips into expressions the seraphim would never have, not to mention that his daughter at least had the gift of a nose.
Lucifer stood up, placing his palms on the desk. - I think you do want something, but you're too astute to reveal it -.
- Your Majesty, you honour me with those words - he said with false modesty. - However, you greatly overestimate me; I would have had the opportunity to ask your daughter for something several times by now, and it still hasn't happened -.
Lucifer gave him a tired smile, showing his sharp teeth. - I imagine so; in fact, I'm quite sure you won't ask her for anything for a long time. You'll simply reserve a very hefty bill for her at the end -.
Alastor tilted his head to the side. - Your daughter doesn't eat enough to expect a high bill -.
The King's fist slammed violently onto the desk, cracking the wood, and his body quickly began to burn. - I want to know what you want from her! You slimy bastard, why did you have to take everything away from me?! -.
What power did that family have? Why were they able to make him feel something with the sound of those voices that took on all the nuances of human emotions? Lucifer's at that moment was a cry of anger mixed with the deepest and blackest despair, and Alastor even had the impression that the King's eyes had moistened, although the heat of his body must have quickly dried those tears that had escaped his control. His stomach suddenly started to hurt again, twisted in what many would define as guilt, but which had not belonged to him for too many years to truly be it. He did not regret what he had done, nor what he would commit in the future. He needed freedom and power; once obtained, he would finally achieve the only thing he had ever desired.
He found himself momentarily lowering his gaze, unable to meet those eyes so similar to Charlie's anymore. - Your Majesty, I have not taken anything away from you. Charlie is still your daughter; blood cannot be erased -.
Lucifer seemed to extinguish like an exhausted candle, and his nails dug into the wood of the desk. - You can't know anything about it; you are not a father and you never will be. She is everything to me, everything -.
Alastor’s mouth was now a deserted and arid expanse, unable to produce saliva to swallow whatever felt stuck at the back of his throat. It was true, he had not been a father, nor did he care to be one. The reality was that father for him had always been a smoky definition, an evanescent figure who was there but could not be touched. His mother had taken on that role as well, while the real one watched him from afar and with detachment. But he, too, had not protected him. After all, he certainly wouldn't have expected it from a distant man like that. In the end, he had ended up hating him just as much as his tormentor.
Looking at Lucifer, however, he felt for the first time the genuine lack of that paternal figure who had never been there. So, was that a father's love? The kind that brought you to that level of patheticness, to the point of whining in front of who you consider an enemy?
- Wouldn't it be simpler to support her, instead of doing everything to keep her away from the world? She will be hurt anyway, whether you act like a mother hen or not - Alastor warned him, regaining his calm and once again pushing away those thoughts about his past. - I am doing nothing but this, and if you truly want to give her a chance, stay away from her and give her room to prove who she really is. You would be surprised at how much she is changing -.
That whining certainly hadn't made him forget his plans. It remained fundamentally important to distance Charlie from her family to have her at his mercy.
Lucifer widened his eyes upon hearing those words. - She is my daughter; how can I stay away from her? -.
Alastor shrugged in response. - Find a hobby, one that doesn’t concern these obscenities - he commented, pointing with his index finger at the ducks in front of him.
- How dare you?! -.
The Radio Demon got up from the chair, adjusting his jacket on his shoulders. - Now, if you don't mind, precisely to support your daughter, it's time for me to return to my activities. Reflect on what I have told you, give her space, and you will see that she will be the one to return - he explained with an expert air. - In the meantime, I can swear to you that my goal is not to harm your daughter -.
Words, how wonderful to have the ability to use them properly, he told himself, realizing that it was true.
He had no intention of harming Charlie in any way; he only needed to use her at the right moment. What would arise afterward, however, would not be his concern.
The King looked at him for a long time again before sighing and snapping his fingers, opening the portal to take him back to the street. - Absurd, I find myself following the advice of a wide-mouthed deer -.
He ignored the insult and greeted him with a nod of his head before heading down the street. When he stepped through, his feet were suddenly immersed in what he fervently hoped was a puddle of water. He turned toward the seraphim, who waved goodbye with a malicious little smile before disappearing as the portal closed.
A twitch in his eye shook him to the point of nearly dropping his monocle, and this only worsened when he glanced at his shadow, which was trying to hide something between its smoky fingers.
- What did you steal? - he asked in a whisper.
It looked first at its closed hands and then at him, before extending its arms in his direction with an innocent look. The dark smoke parted, revealing that it was clutching one of the horrid rubber ducks between its fingers.
To make matters worse, it had stolen a particular one, one that had indeed caught his attention even amidst that disorganized pile positioned next to the desk. It had a black crown, a red dress, and shiny eyes full of hope, somehow entirely resembling Charlie.
He stared angrily at his shadow, while at that point the twitch had become so uncontrollable that his monocle fell to the ground and shattered on the asphalt.
- Throw. Away. That. Thing - he enunciated.
The shadow narrowed its luminous gaze and shook its head, clutching the duck to its chest.
- Throw it away and I will let you cash in the bet, but on my terms - he resigned himself at that point, stepping over the puddle and taking great care that it did as he had been ordered.
Charlie arrived at the Embassy, her fury having subsided as she approached the main door. She even started to feel guilty towards Camille, perhaps she should apologize for behaving that way with her, after all, she knew how crazy love could make people. However, she couldn't understand how that demon couldn't take a simple no and, above all, couldn't grasp the fact that Alastor had no interest in any being that populated Hell. She was certainly the one who had managed to scratch his icy shell the most, but even before that, his complete disinterest in intimate relationships of any kind had immediately been clear to her.
She climbed the steps leading to the entrance two by two, pushing the door open with force and stepping inside, her boots clicking on the stone floor. The echo bounced the noise back to her, making her realize that the place must be empty whenever it wasn't used for a meeting.
She arrived at the reception desk, but there was absolutely no one there. Not that she was surprised; even when she met Adam for the first time, and the second time, she hadn't found anyone.
A golden parchment suddenly flew up, making her jump back. It displayed dark writing that read, “Heaven has not scheduled any visits at this time. Please return when you have an appointment. Thank you. Sincerely."
Charlie stared at the paper as if it were a person, stomping her foot on the ground angrily. - I need an immediate meeting. Now! -.
The piece of paper moved even closer to her face, as if inviting her to read it better, and she pushed it away with annoyance. - I said now! -.
The writing on the parchment suddenly changed. "Don't make us say it the hard way."
She was exploding with the urge to take that paper and tear it into a thousand pieces, but instead, she took a breath and tried to calm down. She ran her hands through her hair to pull back the strands that were threatening to swirl, driven by her demonic power, and closed her eyes, counting backward from ten.
- I demand at least to be allowed to make a phone call! I am Charlotte Morningstar, Princess of Hell, and I demand to be put in contact with the Head Seraph! -.
Wow, I didn't know I could do that, she thought, realizing how resolute and calm she had sounded at the same time. She had to admit that Alastor's influence was proving to be more positive in some respects than she had ever thought before that moment.
The paper suddenly vanished from in front of her eyes, while a landline telephone appeared on the desk before her. The keys seemed to be pressed by an invisible force, and the white receiver stretched towards her. She grabbed it with trembling fingers and brought it to her ear.
- Good day, Heaven's Secretariat. All our operators are currently busy. Please hold -.
The recorded voice stopped speaking, and in its place, an elevator music started playing, so high-pitched that it nearly perforated her eardrums.
- Your position in the queue is 357. Please hold the line to maintain your acquired priority -.
- Are you kidding me?! - she yelled into the phone, but the annoying music started playing even louder.
Resigned to the fact that this would probably be the only way to get a response, she decided to wait. She took the device, whose cord was long enough to allow her to sit on one of the light-coloured benches that were arranged in an orderly row in front of the reception, and she slumped onto it. If she had known she would have to waste all that time, she would have at least brought something to read. Instead, she had brought nothing, too caught up in the sacred fire of anger that had made her rush out of the house like a fury.
In that silence, interrupted only by the sound of the screeching violins on the other end of the receiver, her brain began to piece together all the events of recent times. The situation was not the best, yet less than two weeks prior, she would never have even imagined being able to gain the simple right to try, while at that moment, she was in the Heaven Embassy, waiting to discuss the methodologies used for that crazy first trial. The despair she had felt that very morning gave way to the awareness that she could still at least hope. They had signed a contract where both parties committed equally to the project, and she had staked her freedom to prove that the souls of Hell were worthy of a second chance. The faces of all the participants flashed before her eyes as she wondered what more she could do for them at that moment besides what she was trying to do. It was now a habit to feel useless, but the words Angel had addressed to her a few nights earlier had given her much to think about. If it was true that there was a light in her heart like the one he had described, she was convinced she wanted to use it for the good of all. That night, she had poured her soul into those questionnaires, all her commitment to trying to make sense of and give direction to all her plans. It wasn't much, but it was a start. After all, as much as Alastor supported her materially, it was obvious that he was very little involved in the deepest part of the matter. He probably viewed it as a challenge to discover if someone would really succeed in putting him back on the right path; perhaps he didn't truly believe in it. That demon did nothing but hide whenever a part of himself came to light, and this drove her to chase him even more each time.
- Your position in the queue is 301. Please hold the line to maintain your acquired priority - the recorded voice repeated.
She slid her back down the bench, looking at the clock hung on the wall opposite her. Almost an hour had passed, and she wasn't even halfway through the queue. If only she had a way to do it, she would call Alastor to let him know not to wait for her for lunch and that she would settle her debt to the shadow the next day, but the Overlord seemed to refuse to go near any kind of modern technology.
But maybe the shadow will remind him that it was actually dinner, she thought, only just remembering that they had agreed on that.
That music vibrating through the room, despite the receiver being far away, was irritating her more and more, and she lay flat on her back on the bench, resting her legs on the backrest and clicking the heels of her little boots together. Her crowded mind at that moment kept suggesting the worst scenarios, where she would end up failing and marrying Adam. She never thought about the first man; she avoided doing so with every fibre of her being. The idea of being forced to spend eternity with him repelled her viscerally, but if that would be the only way to stop the Extermination, she would do it.
An eternity alone and without love, she thought despondently, staring at the vaulted ceiling above her, whose bright lights made the environment terribly cold. She wondered if Heaven would have the same effect on her, or if it would be much warmer. It would certainly be less chaotic than Pentagram City, but she would even miss that tumult. She unlocked the cell phone she kept in her pocket and started scrolling through her old photos. Years had passed since some, others were only a few months old; yet, they gave her the same feeling of distance.
She looked at Vaggie's face in one of the many selfies they had taken and felt a surge of annoyance. She furiously started deleting all the ones with Vaggie, one by one. This whole body-swap business had forced her to put aside what had happened between them, but the truth was, she would never forgive her for doing something like that to her. Not only had she destroyed all the friendship created over those years and consequently everything she had done for her, but in doing so, she had managed to erase herself from Charlie's heart. Charlie would never have done something so despicable, would never have exploited her to achieve a goal. What she had felt for Vaggie was only the purest affection, and Vaggie had trampled on it with her attitude, thinking she could manipulate her to bring her home.
Once she had finished that outburst, she also proceeded to unfriend her on social media, blocking her everywhere, and did the same with her number before deleting it. It was a stupid and childish gesture, she realized perfectly well, but she really needed it. Doing it had meant putting a definitive end to what she had felt for her, finally deciding to let her go.
She leaned the cell phone against her chest, almost exhausted, bringing the receiver back to her ear to see if that other hour of waiting had at least paid off.
- Your position in the queue is 285. Please hold the line to maintain your acquired priority -.
She sat up with an abdominal crunch, growling in anger. - Oh, come on! How many problems can you possibly have?! It's Heaven! -.
She looked at the clock again; it was now lunchtime, and she was sure Alastor had been waiting for her for a long time. She knew well how much he hated changes of plan and was quite certain he would make her pay for it dearly.
A knock on the Embassy door made her turn towards the corridor. It was strange that it was someone else; in theory, only her family had the right to enter, and all the damned kept well away from that place, also because the penalty for vandalism was immediate execution.
Could it be Dad? she wondered with her heart pounding. She hadn't seen him since the meeting with Adam, and he had avoided contacting her after the argument with Vaggie; the former angel had probably warned him about what had happened, and he had taken care to avoid the risk of making the situation worse. She missed him terribly, especially the sweet way he would wake her up some mornings with breakfast in bed and a genuine smile on his face. He was her dad; he was the most important man in her life for her, despite everything that had happened between them. It had taken her a while to realize that she needed that distance, however, to figure out who she could be without the Seraph's perpetual protection.
- Charlie, chérie, are you still here? -.
She immediately sprang to her feet when Alastor's voice reached her. Had he really come all the way there to look for her? Was he worried about her? Or did he simply want to point out her lateness?
She brought the receiver back to her ear, ascertained that she had only moved up one position, and rushed towards the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that the golden statues of the angels positioned at the entrance and armed with spears had moved, following her steps.
She raised her palms up towards them to try to calm them. - He's with me, I invited him - she tried to say, hoping that was enough.
The statues, despite their almost total lack of expression, seemed to look at her severely before turning their gaze back toward each other.
She opened the door and found him in front of her, observing the tower with ill-concealed disdain and wrinkling his nose every time he breathed. His crimson eyes rested on her with a serene look; therefore, he must not be angry about the delay.
- I was afraid they had already taken you back to Heaven - he joked, stretching his neck to look over her shoulders. - No featherheads in sight, I imagine -.
Charlie gestured for him to be quiet. - Trust me, this is not the place for jokes - she whispered, looking at the statues behind her. - I think I'll have to stay here for a while -.
Alastor's ears seemed to pick up the music and the recorded voice coming from the receiver left resting on the bench, especially because it echoed quite loudly in the silence. - They put the Princess in a queue like common mortals? Disgraceful - he quipped again. - If you allow me, I'd say I might have the solution to both problems. Since you made arrangements without me and given my work schedule, I've found a more suitable solution to collect the wager -.
She didn't even have time to ask what he meant before he practically thrust a wicker picnic basket into her arms and passed her by as if nothing had happened. She broke out in a cold sweat when she saw the statues attentively follow his steps before returning to their place. Perhaps the fact that she had somehow officially invited him had saved him from being torn to pieces on the spot. The shadow moved along the walls, looking down at her and giving a thumbs-up as if to tell her the idea had been hers.
It's absurd how different you are, despite representing the same person, she found herself thinking, as she followed the Radio Demon, who in the meantime observed everything around him with boredom and a hint of contempt.
- A monochromatic, aseptic place. It wouldn't hurt to have a touch of colour - he commented, taking a seat on the bench where she had been waiting alone for the phone answer until a moment ago.
She gripped the heavy basket tighter to keep it from slipping out of her hands as she looked at him doubtfully. - Alastor, thank you, but I really don't think it's appropriate -.
A shadow tentacle emerging from the floor took the load from her hands and placed it on the ground, while the demon's shadow returned towards them to take its own seat on the shadow of the bench projected on the floor.
- Chérie, you need to pass the time and pay your debt. I'd say it's the best way to resolve both your duties - the Overlord replied confidently, opening the basket and pulling out a wrap. - As requested, no raw meat -.
When she opened it, she found a delicious-looking sandwich inside. Judging by the smell, it must have been made with salmon, fresh arugula, and chives. To make it creamier, he had used a yogurt and lemon sauce and topped it all with an avocado. The mere sight made her terribly hungry, and she couldn't object further, sitting down opposite the Radio Demon, who in the meantime had moved the receiver to make room for a checkered tablecloth that he carefully arranged on the bench.
- Always organized - Charlie commented, holding herself back from immediately biting into her meal and waiting for him to finish setting up.
The Radio Demon looked at her from under lowered eyelids. - I've always told you, chérie, quality lies in the organization of even the smallest details -.
Charlie sat across from him, watching him place two glasses in front of her and, in the centre, a small bottle of water and one of the same size of what appeared to be red wine. Alastor hadn't brought anything for himself to eat.
- You don't have anything? Do you want half? - she asked worriedly. - You've already gone to enough trouble -.
Alastor looked up at her. - Lunch was for you and my shadow. Obviously, it doesn't eat, and I'll enjoy a nice glass of Chianti since I already had my meal at the venue -.
She blinked a couple of times, then turned to the shadow, who was shaking its head with a displeased look at what it had just heard.
- You really didn't have to go to all this trouble -.
- You seemed particularly authoritative in ordering this lunch today. I didn't want to risk contradicting you - he joked, uncorking the bottle and pouring himself a glass.
She stiffened abruptly, stopping chewing, and then slowly swallowed the bite. She had completely forgotten how she had behaved that morning. - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude -.
- Au contraire, chérie, I find this new attitude interesting. You're finally behaving like someone of your rank - he continued.
Charlie would have liked to respond, but she was too busy savouring what he had prepared for her. Alastor had excellent cooking skills, demonstrated by the fact that thanks to his teachings, Niffty managed to create exquisite meals that were always appreciated by all the guests.
She wiped her mouth and then took a sip of water. - Did you cook much when you were alive? -.
The Radio Demon pulled his ears back and swirled the wine in the glass he held in his claws. - Are we starting with the questions I don't want to answer again, chérie? -.
- Come on, it's not that personal a question! - she muttered, bringing the receiver back to her ear to check her position in the queue. To her misfortune, she was still at number 214.
Alastor turned, offering her his profile, resuming his observation of the room around him. - Sometimes, I was taught -.
- And by whom? -.
- Charlie, please. I think you've already gotten more than enough from me - he muttered, sipping slowly and with pleasure from the glass.
But she had time to waste, and as long as she hadn't finished eating, he was obliged by the won bet to stay there. - I could ask it - she replied slyly, turning towards the shadow.
The shadow responded by vibrating its ears, but Alastor's withering glare immobilized it before it could project any image onto the wall.
- Don't try to manipulate me by bringing it over to your side. I could make it disappear, rather - he hissed, addressing both of them.
- It's the best part of you right now, so you shouldn't - she muttered, resting the sandwich on the tablecloth and pursing her lips.
The shadow gave its owner a satisfied look, raising its smoky chin in the air as if to be admired better in all its gloomy splendour. Charlie had to admit she found it funny and also very likeable, and she found herself wondering if it wasn't Alastor's most instinctual part, one he refused to the point of confining it to that form. After all, it was a projection of its owner, and she felt somewhat reassured by that thought; it meant that maybe he liked her deep down.
- You wound me this way. Do you mean you don't appreciate my personality? - he teased, giving her a subtle look.
- I didn't mean that. It's just easier to chat with it, and it doesn't even talk - she pouted.
Alastor looked at his shadow on the floor, which returned the gaze and widened its luminous smile. - You said you're curious about the human world. We have time to spare, so I'll be happy to answer some general questions -.
It's not much, but it's a start, she thought, finishing her sandwich. - Talking to Husk, he told me that on earth, people often make mistakes because they think it's for the good of others. Do you think that's possible? -.
The Radio Demon tightened his smile. - I think those are easy excuses to justify one's actions. Humans know perfectly well what they do and why they do it. They only think that because it's easier than accepting that they are deeply selfish creatures -.
- Excuse me, but let's take Niffty. It's true she killed two people, but you know what she went through. They took her siblings away... everything -.
Alastor raised his eyebrows, turning back to her. - First of all, I think even a child would understand that our Niffty was not in optimal psychological condition when all that happened. Secondly, she got caught. If she had made the body disappear, she wouldn't have had to lose her siblings -.
She widened her eyes at that insensitive comment. - I hope you're joking -.
- No, I'm absolutely serious. It's the ABC of murder to find a way to make the corpse disappear, and anyway, I see no shades of grey in the matter. Killing is wrong in any human culture, as are other crimes. It's hard to get out of that - he concluded, drinking the remaining sip of wine in the glass and pouring himself a second one.
- Yes, but she didn't kill for the sake of it! You said it yourself, she was in a difficult situation, so even if she made a mistake, she needs to be understood - she retorted, annoyed.
Alastor let out a soft laugh, letting his head fall backward and staring at the ceiling. - Oh, chérie, how pure you are. You would see the good in anyone -.
She stood up and looked down at him, practically looming over him. - I saw it in you, so I'd say yes! And I consider it a wonderful thing, so you're not insulting me! -.
He adjusted his forelock with his free hand, observing her with half-closed eyes. - You would be comfortable in Heaven. Perhaps you should really reflect on Adam's proposal. Let others decide for Hell, someone who knows how to give the appropriate punishment for committed crimes -.
She clenched her fists and moved even closer, noticing how much this was starting to irritate him. - Someone like you? Would you feel entitled to judge? -.
Alastor's eyes seemed to glow with a vermilion light for a second. - I already have -.
- And in fact, you're here. Speaking of which, why are you here? - she asked, scrutinizing him carefully and not being intimidated by those menacing eyes.
The demon smiled with one corner of his mouth, creating a dimple on his cheek. - Because my shadow won a bet and I had to collect it, it seems obvious to me -.
- Stop pretending not to understand! Why are you in Hell? - she blurted out, not realizing that she was leaning closer and closer to him to the point where they were terribly close. She was standing between his legs, which he kept open while he was sitting on the bench, just like his arms that were resting on the armrests. The fact that he hadn't pushed her back yet was perhaps due to the fact that he hadn't fully realized how close their noses were now, just a few centimetres apart, and also because not even a centimetre of their bodies was actually touching.
The Overlord's eyes remained two red pins, his smile still relaxed, and the dimple on his cheek deepening. - And what if I don't want to tell you? -.
- I'll find out on my own! Surely there are some records somewhere! - she invented, hoping he would take the bait of that reckless bluff.
His deer ears vibrated nervously and pulled back. - You wouldn't dare violate someone's privacy like that, I'm sure -.
- Yes, if you force me! -.
- Your position in the queue is 3. Please hold the line to maintain your acquired priority -.
The recorded voice seemed to rouse both of them, and she saw Alastor's eyes widen the moment he realized how close they were. She heard him clear his throat as he sat up straight and composed, and with a calculated, confident movement of his foot, he let her know to move.
- The call saved you, but don't think this is over - she huffed, sitting back down and bringing the device to her ear to make sure she didn't miss the long-awaited phone call.
Alastor swirled the wine in his glass, crossing his legs and straightening his back. - I didn't expect anything less from someone who seems to have a particular interest in other people's business -.
She opened her mouth to reply, but a different voice from the receiver interrupted her.
- Heaven's Secretariat, good morning, this is Martha. How can I help you? -.
The voice of a woman speaking very quickly hit her, and it took Charlie a few seconds to regain enough clarity to speak again.
- Good morning, I'm Charlotte Morningstar, and I need to speak with the Head Seraph - she said in a serious voice.
- The Head Seraph is currently unavailable. Would you like to leave a message? -.
A growl rose in her throat, and she squeezed the receiver tighter. - Listen, Martha, I have nothing against you, but I've been stuck on this phone for two hours to talk to Sera, so put this call through to her immediately -.
- Ma'am, I don't make the rules. I am not allowed to transfer calls unless they are of extreme importance -.
- I am the Princess of Hell! So you better put her through right now! - she was shouting, not even realizing how suddenly loud her voice had become. Perhaps the mix of the argument with Alastor and the nervousness of that morning had unintentionally created a kind of bomb ready to explode.
- Please hold the line -.
The music started again, and she ran her hands through her hair, now exasperated. - What the hell! -.
- You know, some say bureaucracy is the real Hell. I'd say they must have talked to this secretariat - the Radio Demon chuckled.
- If you're here to mock me, leave! Lunch is over, and the bet is paid - she whispered, placing her hand over the mouthpiece so he wouldn't risk hearing her.
The Overlord widened his smile. - I wouldn't miss this comedy -.
- You really are... -.
- Good morning, Charlotte -.
Sera's voice made her shoot up on the bench so fast that she nearly dropped the receiver, performing absurd contortions and getting tangled in the cord to retrieve it. - Se-Sera, hi! I mean, good morning -.
- Excellent start - Alastor whispered, giving her a malicious wink.
She stood up to avoid looking at him and started pacing back and forth as the angel resumed speaking. - I apologize for the wait, but as I'm sure you can imagine, we have many commitments here, and it's not easy for us to answer calls for other realms too -.
A surge of annoyance rose in her throat at that insinuation, but she swallowed the bile and breathed. - Don't worry, in fact, I'll get straight to the point so as not to steal too much of your time. The trial you proposed to us has concluded, and, not to sound rude, but I find it absurd that we haven't been given any kind of feedback on its progress. How can we know if we are on the right track if we are told nothing? -.
- Charlotte, the important thing is that we know how things are progressing; it is not necessary for us to give you constant feedback. I understand your concern, but you must confide in what we are doing -.
She clenched her teeth until her jaw hurt before speaking again. - Sera, honestly, all this seems to me like a way to prevent us from succeeding. I am respecting my part and committing to seeing Adam; therefore, I would demand the same courtesy from you - she said seriously, trying not to let anger show in her voice. - You don't even know who the souls attempting the path are; the last trial put them at risk, and it was a miracle that a disaster didn't happen -.
- Do you doubt our good intentions? Does Hell truly doubt Heaven? - she asked, her voice slightly cracked by what seemed to be a veil of anger.
Charlie stopped pacing, looking at the desk in front of her and slamming an open hand on it to release tension. - I doubt, but not your intentions, but rather your preparation -.
Oh, damn, I shouldn't have said that, she thought as soon as those words left her lips, biting her lower one anxiously. No sound came from the other end, only the angel's slow, steady breathing, who seemed to be holding back from losing the composure she had always shown.
- Very well, then in three days, we will meet at the Embassy to discuss everything better. I expect you to arrive with the details of the guests. I will need to know the reason why they believe they are in Hell, the age of death, and the name. Whether it's their living or dead name does not interest me -.
Charlie swallowed the lump of saliva that had formed in her throat before speaking again. - Of course, do you need anything else? - she asked, trying not to sound tense.
- No, but I expect to have everything I requested. See you soon, Charlotte -.
She didn't even have time to reply because the call was disconnected, and she was left with the receiver stuck to her face and her heart pounding. She stared at the empty swivel chair in front of her, unsure of what she should be feeling. She had certainly obtained clearer conditions, but she still didn't know if that trial would be cancelled or not, and above all, what the next ones would be like.
She put the receiver down, and the phone disappeared as it had arrived, transforming back into the parchment she had seen as soon as she entered. At that moment, she had to take one step at a time, and the first thing to do would be to ask the guests the reason that had led them to Hell.
She turned to Alastor, but when she looked at him, she was perplexed. He was staring at her with strange eyes; he seemed almost lost elsewhere, yet he was looking right in her direction. His smile was not tense as usual; in fact, it seemed on the verge of disappearing, and seeing him that way almost managed to worry her.
- Alastor, are you alright? -.
He suddenly snapped out of it, while with a snap of his fingers, he made everything he had brought for that impromptu lunch disappear. - Certainly, chérie. I was just waiting for you to tell me something about the next steps of the project -.
Charlie leaned on the desk and scrutinized the statues at the entrance, which had come to life again and seemed to command both of them with their gaze to leave. - Let's talk about it better at home -.
Alastor was in his radio tower, a place which, in his opinion, he hadn't frequented enough lately. He had climbed the stairs from the third floor to the fourth, the only part of the building that was abandoned enough for him. It wouldn't take him long to fix it up, but he considered it a waste of time since he didn't need the extra space at the moment. At the end of the corridor, which almost perfectly mirrored the one on the second floor, there was the metal ladder leading up to the tower's trapdoor. It was a relatively small structure, also because it was only meant to host him. The console lit up as soon as he entered, as did the "On Air" sign outside.
He sat down on the swivel chair and snapped his fingers to move the levers into the correct position. In another situation, he would have done a long introductory monologue, but that day he was particularly tired and too full of thoughts to do so.
The princess had worn him out with chatter about the need to immediately start preparing effective documents to bring to the angel she would meet. He had only partially listened to the frantic and uninterrupted babble she poured over him like a raging river, because in reality, he had an annoying worm in his brain that struggled to disappear.
With a second snap of his fingers, he started the music and relaxed into the backrest, letting his head fall back and staring at the ceiling, while the notes of "Minnie the Moocher" by Cab Calloway filled the room, hoping they would empty his mind. He kept the rhythm with his foot on the floor, tapping the tip rhythmically and half-closing his eyes. He repeated that "hidehidehidehi," hoping it would be enough, that it would extinguish that unbearable worm.
Closing his eyes was impossible because, in the darkness, the figure of the princess kept appearing before him. The character she had shown that day had left him completely dumbfounded and shocked; he hadn't thought she was capable of it. Especially the moment she had slightly raised her voice to be heard by the Head Seraph; masterful. There was so much hidden in that fragile little body, and he felt as though he had never truly studied her. Yet, he thought he had already understood her; he was sure he had quickly managed to unveil all her character traits. He had considered her almost easy prey, too kind and naive to see the evil around her. Perhaps, however, there was a reason why that sweetness had been protected, and it wasn't just due to her father's care but also to her own ability to defend it tooth and nail. She firmly believed in her goals and was willing to do anything to achieve a result.
In this, we are very similar, he thought, massaging the bridge of his nose before taking off his monocle and putting it back in his jacket pocket.
His shadow finally seemed to have calmed down, although he was decidedly worried about what had happened in those days. It had always been a more bestial manifestation of his personality, but never before had he seen it act in such absurd ways. He had always considered it an instinctual creature; he had created it as a kind of manifestation of himself to keep his nervousness at bay, so that it could go vent elsewhere. It had suddenly become tamer, but at the same time much more capricious, and he almost didn't recognize himself in that manifestation.
The metallic sound of footsteps on the stairs startled him, and he turned in his chair toward the trapdoor. It was rare for anyone to venture up there when he was recording his program; so, either a disaster had occurred, or...
- Alastor, are you here? -.
He held back the growl that was rising in his throat and hid his face in his hands. He couldn't believe she had come to disturb him even in that place; it was absurd.
- Yes - he replied. - But as you can imagine, I'm busy right now -.
- I'll only take a few minutes, I promise -.
Insupportable and bothersome, he told himself, as he invited her in, nervously tapping his fingers on the console and trying to be soothed by the notes of the song.
The blonde head emerged from the trapdoor, but for a second, Alastor struggled to recognize her. She had her hair tied in a tidier chignon than usual, and on her nose, she wore a pair of dark, square-framed glasses. She suddenly looked much more professional than she usually did, to the point that it took him a while to notice that in her hands, she was still clutching the damn papers she insisted on having everyone fill out.
He turned his back to her, making sure all the microphones were off, as he started another song. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the princess, who was looking around curiously, heading straight for the shelves where he kept his most prized vinyl records.
- You really have a great collection - she commented, picking one up. - Although I admit I'm not very knowledgeable about this musical genre -.
Alastor sighed, resting his forehead on his open palm and trying not to seem too irritated by her presence in that place. - I don't mean to be rude, but could you tell me what you need? -.
He couldn't handle it at that moment; he needed to keep her at a distance for a while, and instead, he found her underfoot again. As if that weren't enough, his shadow again seemed far too happy with her presence.
- Oh, yes, of course! - she exclaimed, walking toward him and probably looking for a place to sit, then choosing to sit on the floor, crossing her legs like a child.
He raised an eyebrow. - You just had to ask for a chair -.
- I'm fine like this, don't worry - she replied, adjusting her glasses on her nose and clicking her pen, then starting to write. - So, for the name, I'd say let's keep Alastor, although I'd like to know the one you had when you were alive -.
His teeth grated together to hold back the irritated gurgle that was about to escape his lips. - I thought you would ask the others first -.
- I thought it was appropriate for my business partner to set a good example - she replied, as she started writing, resting the sheet supported by a folder on her legs, her tongue sticking out from the corner of her mouth in concentration.
Intrigued by the fact that she was wearing glasses, he leaned towards her, touching the part resting on her nose with a claw. - And since when do you wear these? An attempt to appear more authoritative and experienced? -.
Charlie looked up, and for a second, it seemed to him that the blush on her cheeks intensified and her jugular moved as if choked before she recovered. - Says the one who wears a monocle for beauty, and anyway, they are for resting my eyes; I need them when I'm on the computer or writing too much -.
- Touché - he replied, remaining bent in her direction and lingering for a second too long, as the familiar scent of her hair reached his nostrils. He lowered his gaze to trace the profile of her nose, chin, and neck. He only stopped when he noticed that from that elevated perspective, he could glimpse part of her chest, since her blouse, usually buttoned all the way up, was more open and even showed a hint of what must have been her underwear. He snapped back abruptly and sat up straight, noticing that again, the princess's eyes seemed lost looking at him, and she had started nervously chewing on the pen.
- Anyway - she recovered with a cough. - I would also need to know the age you died at -.
- Thirty-two years old - he murmured, turning toward the console to try to distract himself. - You already know how -.
Charlie seemed saddened by the memory and resumed writing more slowly, as if lost in some deep and personal reflections. - Yes... terrible - she said in a breath. - Instead, I would need to know... why you think you're in Hell -.
If he hadn't known that the princess was capable of forgiving anything, he probably would have found a way to deflect that question, but having seen how she reacted to Niffty's story, he didn't find answering problematic, also because he didn't regret what he had done in the past.
- Murder - he asserted confidently, omitting, however, the detail of how many he had actually committed and especially his preferences regarding how to consume his victims.
Charlie stiffened suddenly, her fingers clenched around the pen, trembling slightly. - You... killed too, then? -.
He nodded, relaxing into the backrest. - Yes, although I was more discreet than dear Niffty -.
- How many times? - she asked.
Alastor pulled his ears back and tightened his smile. - Those are other details that don't seem useful for the meeting you're going to have -.
Charlie placed the folder on the console and stood up, wiping her dark pants with her hands. - But they are useful for me, because I think someone like you couldn't kill randomly or driven by madness like Niffty -.
You're starting to become too perceptive, he internally growled, trying not to let her notice. - Thank you, I appreciate that you have an opinion like that. However, I can tell you that I may have rendered a useful service to the community with my work -.
It was clear that she was uncomfortable hearing about a topic like that, but at that point, it was useless to hide behind a finger. He had never made a secret of what he had done on earth, and sooner or later, she could find out from someone else, perhaps even from that loose-lipped Angel Dust. As much as it irritated him to risk his goals, he was also sure that a confession like that would earn him more points.
The princess brought a lock of hair behind her ear, and he watched that hand, the same one from which he had tasted blood only a few days before, and that discomfort in his stomach increased, bringing with it a rush of heat he had never experienced before that day in Hell.
It's not possible, he thought, alarmed, as his mind connected some pieces. It was the same sensation he felt when plunging the knife into the victims' bodies, when he felt the resistance of the warm flesh meeting the cold of the blade, the blood wetting his hands, making the handle slippery and forcing him to tighten his grip. He also knew what that rush often led to, and Charlie's body's physiological reactions were suddenly clearer to him.
It's just the blood, it's just the flesh, he told himself, as he tried to look elsewhere. It had been too long since he had killed, since he had broadcast the screams of some new victim. It was only because of this that even the princess suddenly seemed appealing to him. She was prey, and he was a predator; that was all. He felt himself sweating, his hands suddenly itching as they did when he had to satisfy his thirst for blood. It had to be the urge to kill; there was no other rational explanation.
- Is that why you thought you were able to judge? Were you killing those who deserved it? - she pressed him, taking a step forward.
He ran a hand across his forehead, hiding his eyes behind his palm. - Charlie, that's enough - he whispered. - You have your answers; now leave -.
- For Heaven, but not for me! There must have been a reason, and I want to know it! -.
The situation was becoming unmanageable, especially because she seemed to have dug in her heels, and that authoritative, confident attitude was confusing him even more, leading him to wonder if he hadn't mistaken a wolf for a lamb.
- You don't know anything - he spat out with a little too much vehemence; he was losing his composure. The sensations his body was sending him were becoming unmanageable, and he couldn't stand it. He was used to having control over it, and while he could accept having lost it when wearing the princess's clothes, not being a situation he was used to, he couldn't tolerate it when he was in a known situation. What the hell was happening? What witchcraft had she concocted to make him suddenly so sensitive? It had to be some influence from her angelic side; it must be.
With a sharp, unexpected gesture, Charlie moved his hand from his forehead to look at him, and he felt an electric shock run through the part she had touched, different from the disgust that contact with any other being usually caused him, at least those he didn't consider future victims.
- Then help me understand! You keep saying I don't know anything, but you do absolutely nothing to teach me! You like to talk so much, so talk! -.
It was too much; he wouldn't tolerate it further. He found himself leaping up from the chair and grabbed the hand she still held out to him, while the chair fell backward from the sudden movement. His shadow seemed so worried that it immediately projected itself next to them.
- Human beings are either good or bad; there's nothing to understand. You think you can redeem us with some pretty speech, but it doesn't work that way. Of what mortal creatures experience, you cannot even sample a taste - he began, continuing to squeeze her hand. - I am one, in fact, I'm here, just like everyone else. It will take more than a questionnaire to change things -.
Charlie trembled for a second, her eyes widened, and her breathing suddenly slowed. She was breathing through semi-open lips, made shiny by her tongue passing over them to moisten them.
- Then that means you don't believe in my idea - she replied, but without pulling away.
He immediately called himself an idiot for that outburst. It was true, he didn't believe in redemption, but he shouldn't have made it so obvious; in doing so, he had revealed a fundamental card, and he quickly had to find a way to fix things.
- I think there are unforgivable things on earth, but maybe they could be changed here - he tried to say, realizing once again that he hadn't let go of her hand and that a part of his brain refused to do so. They lowered their arms which had remained raised, but he still didn't release his grip.
Charlie seemed to catch fire, her cheeks flushed red, and she bit her lip with her canine tooth. - Then give me a chance to get to know you to do that. I know you've done wrong things, but I don't want to judge you without knowing why -.
Oh, if only she knew everything. If only she realized how much he enjoyed the evil he did, how seeing life drain from a person's eyes had become a drug for him, and with what pleasure he had cut off body parts just to taste them. He chose his victims carefully, studied and followed them, and discovered their dark sides to dig deeper and realize once more how rotten the world he was forced to live in was. There was no more pity when they discovered the dirty secrets, no remorse or regret in seeing them agonize beneath him. He felt like a necessary, beneficial evil that at least partially cleansed the filth, while at the same time becoming a fundamental part of it. When he died, he wasn't surprised to end up in Hell; he knew it would happen, and indeed, for a period, the souls he subjugated were the same ones he had sent to that place, because he wanted their torture to be truly eternal.
He lowered his gaze to his red claws holding the back of the princess's hand, whose fingers, until that moment open, were slowly closing around the thumb he held on her palm. He had to move her immediately, yet it was becoming strangely pleasant to feel the warmth of that skin and the softness.
No, this is not good, he alarmed himself again, letting go of her hand and raising his gaze to her. - You have what you need; now go - he said seriously, turning to pull up the chair. - You better start with some other project; Angel Dust seems to want to put as much distance as possible between himself and his current owner -.
Charlie stood in front of him again, her eyes suddenly brighter. - But you just took a huge step forward! Didn't you realize it didn't bother you to touch me? -.
That sentence, spoken with all that hope and trust, was capable of making the blood rush to his brain. He didn't need to change; he had no intention of doing so. The only reason he had embarked on that madness was to get something from her, not the other way around. The situation was spiralling out of control, and he couldn't accept it further.
- Leave, now - he hissed, his tone more menacing than intended. - I need my space, something you promised to respect, but I don't think you are doing so. Get out of here -.
The princess's eyes changed suddenly; no trace of the smile remained on her face. She lowered her eyelids to the floor, resuming torturing her hands. - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be invasive -.
- But you are; now go - he concluded, turning back to the console so he wouldn't have to look at her anymore.
He heard her murmur a distressed "I'm sorry" and gather her things before disappearing. Alastor wearily rested the palms of his hands on the console, his claws digging into the metal to the point of leaving deep grooves.
What was happening? It was absurd; he couldn't tolerate any more of it. He had a plan and had to follow it, not be distracted by such trifles as what was happening to him. If he remained focused on what he wanted to achieve, he was sure those sensations would soon disappear.
However, until he recovered a minimum of clarity, he had to keep her at a distance for a while, let her concentrate on that absurd idea of redemption on everyone else. He would force them to participate, anything to keep her away for a while.
He had to remain calm, or he would lose the game, and too much was at stake.
Notes:
And here we are again!
Sorry for the delay, but unfortunately, I've been sick at home for days T____T
In this chapter, we discover that Alastor really enjoyed killing, but oops... what's happening to you, Bambi? Is murder no longer the only thing that warms you up? LOL
Charlie shows her claws, and the Radio Demon seems to really like this. His shadow is quicker than him to appreciate the princess, perhaps even too quick, in his opinion ahahah.
Thank you so much to everyone who reads and/or reviews this story, you are wonderful <3
See you soon!