Chapter Text
He should have been more careful. To have finally made contact with the other side to get the power he’d been wanting only for it to be cut short. One. Single. Day. That was all he got after the deal he had made with the demoness he’d contacted and contracted. He looked at the starry sky above him as he barely registered the hunter’s dogs tearing him apart, wondering just how careless he could’ve been for this to have happened. The shot must’ve been good enough to remove his senses, but off enough to not end him immediately as he heard the hunter scream at the realization that he had, indeed, not been a deer. He mentally chuckled at the irony. The hunter became the hunted.
By his estimate, it took around five minutes for him to fully lose consciousness. Just long enough for the hunter to reel in his mutts and flee. It felt strange to open his eyes after he’d been sure he was dead.
“Well. That was quite a show,” a raspy, tenor voice came from behind him. He jolted and quickly scrambled to his feet, turning to see who spoke. His eyes widened as he blinked a few times. A person(?) at least 8 feet tall, maybe taller, with paper white skin, jet black hair, gold eyes, and- were those wings?! Four very large and very black wings!
“Pardon?” Was the only word he managed to get out. He was supposed to be dead?! And now there was an angel(?!) standing before him?!
“It’s not every day I get to personally witness an ending that gruesome,” the angel hummed as he stepped towards Alastor. The man took a few steps back before he looked down to where the angel’s eyes had been drawn to.
Oh… that was… hm… he wasn’t sure he’d left any of his victims looking that horrendous. What a weird feeling. To be able to see your own mutilated corpse. He merely tilted his head in reaction.
“Ah.” Alastor’s eyes quickly flicked back up to meet the angel’s. “I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Azrael.” Alastor blinked a few times before his mind finally caught up.
“The name’s Alastor. Pleased to be meeting you,” Alastor respectfully held his hand out, blinking once more at the freezing feeling he received from the completed hand shake, “my, my, you are as cold as ice!
“That does tend to happen when one leads others to their afterlife. Not much light to be seen here,” Azrael chuckled and waved his hand around. Alastor took in his surroundings with wide eyes, noting that the scenery he’d been in before had vanished to complete darkness, a void, where the only thing he could see was the angel in front of him.
“So you are the angel of death?” Alastor raised an eyebrow as their hands separated.
“Indeed,” the angel responded with a nod.
“Well,” the man paused before looking around once more, “am I correct in assuming that you are taking me to hell?” He tilted his head as he folded his arms behind his back.
“You are right, once more,” Azrael chuckled as he turned, motioning for Alastor to follow him.
“Death is far more peaceful than I was led to believe,” the man commented with a hum.
“Paradise or pain are chosen after your soul has been assessed,” Azrael said as he flicked his wings, turning to point towards Alastor’s chest where a small murky orb was floating.
“And how long does it take to be judged? I already know I am going to hell, so why is it not instantaneous?” Alastor questioned with a raised eyebrow.
“Even though we both know where you are going, the universe must still review your entire life down to the millisecond," the angel responded as they watched the orb fill with monochromatic colors. Swirls of black, white, and gray before slowly settling into a dark gray.
“Huh,” Alastor blinked a few times before looking back up at Azrael. “If the meaning of black is sin and white is of virtue, why is mine still a lighter color? I am very sure, after all I’ve done, it should be much darker.”
“The universe has seen the reasons behind what you have done, not just the actions. If it had not been for one certain action, you may have been able to go to heaven,” Azrael snickered at the baffled expression upon the man’s face. For the first time in his entire existence, Alastor could not find the words he needed to form a response. “But it has been made darker by the deal that you made not even twenty-four hours ago. A deal that sealed your fate to hell completely, regardless of if you’d been fit for heaven or not.”
Another round of silence left Azrael free to quietly laugh once more.
“What of the deal?” Alastor finally asked.
“You will be the most powerful sinner, as per your deal,” the angel shrugged, “but your soul will not be your own. You are now to be pulled at the whims of your contractor”
“I will have no autonomy?” Alastor’s mouth parted in shock.
“You left the deal too vague. You agreed to a deal with an open ending. She did not say when her request would end, nor did she specify what she wanted,” Azrael nodded, “you will be hers to control until you are no longer the strongest sinner or until she decides to finally cash in.”
Alastor struggled to grasp that fact. It was a one time favor… he had agreed to do something for her, but she did not specify a thing… How could he have been so naive?!
“I don’t blame you, though,” the angel caught his attention, “many powerful demons make deals like that with humans if they can be summoned. You all have no clue about the importance of wording. You are not the first, nor will you be the last.”
Well… fuck…
“How am I supposed to get out of this deal?!” He surprised himself by shouting, the angel raising an eyebrow at him. “Apologies, I did not mean to raise my voice.” Azrael simply hummed before leading him along again.
“You must find a way to not be the most powerful or wait until she sees no reason in keeping you around. It will be more than difficult, but there is always a way to get out of a deal. No matter how strongly they are crafted,” the angel gave him a small smirk before turning away, his wings puffing a little before he flicked them out to settle the feathers. “Now, usually, it is after the soul is completely reviewed that I pass on your judgments, then send you on your way to try and figure out how to navigate through hell on your own-” he turned and held a finger up to stop Alastor from interrupting him, “but! I am in need of a favor.”
Alastor glared at Azrael. After warning him of the wording of deals, he wants to make his own?! How was he to know how it all worked in legitimacy when this would only be his second deal?!
“Oh, lose that expression, Alastor,” the angel rolled his eyes as he stopped in front of the man again, “I am still an angel. I am not one of those scheming, conniving, backstabbing demons.”
“How am I to know if you are or not?” Alastor’s back straightened, his glare sharpening. Azrael sighed before manifesting a golden scroll.
“Read over this. You can ensure that there are no loopholes in anything I ask for,” he handed the scroll over, watching as Alastor unrolled it and began reading.
“You want me to fight for the King of Hell, Lucifer, from the bible, when I somehow manage to free myself from the soul binding contract I am already under?” Alastor furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief as he read the paper over and over again to make sure he understood everything about it. He had to raise an eyebrow at the sight of the angel’s wings flicking out again.
“Simple. Yes. It is only a favor. Not a soul binding deal. I need someone to watch over my brother. The sinners are getting out of control, and I need someone to ensure he stays safe,” Azrael nodded, “you will be free to do whatever you want as long as Lucifer has some form of protection from you. You are the strongest sinner. You would not have needed that deal, but mortals do not have knowledge of the afterlife nor how it works. You could not have known.”
Well, now he was even more pissed off.
“How is this any different than what I have already agreed to with that demoness? I will be required to be by the king’s side at all times!” Alastor scoffed as he pointed at the scroll in his opposite hand.
“You will not. You will understand the power you wield when you arrive in hell. You will be able to help without being present,” Azrael corrected then frowned with another flick of his wings, “I know it is hard to understand as you are new and don’t have any knowledge about the afterlife that awaits for you, but I need you to trust me, as a literal angel, that there is nothing unwilling or nefarious about this favor.”
Yeah, okay, trust the angel. Alastor mentally scoffed. He’d only just learned that he wasn’t going to be free when he got to hell, how was he supposed to feel about signing something not even twenty minutes after figuring that out.
“Okay, let me add something that might make it better,” Azrael rolled his eyes as he took the scroll and swirled sparkling gold particles around it.
Alastor Boudreaux will be free to do as he choses so long as there is a form of his protection for Lucifer Morningstar, the King of Hell.
“Does that make you feel better?” The angel huffed as he pointed to the newly added wording, his wings spreading fully before tucking back tightly in what Alastor assumed to be frustration.
It did help a little.
“The only problem you may have with any of this, is that I will have to remove your memories of being here as is customary for all passing through,” Azrael sighed and held his hand up again as Alastor went to comment once more, “you will regain these memories as soon as your binding deal is broken. I cannot risk any of this being revealed until then. There are others who would take advantage of this and try to get in your way in every way possible. I do not need you trying to get out of your original deal faster than you should, only to have your contractor force you into revealing this deal.”
Alastor hid his distaste for all he had just learned by turning his gaze down to reread the contract again.
“I will be free?” Alastor looked into Azrael’s eyes, trying to find any kind of hidden agenda behind them.
“You will be free,” a simple nod with a small smile was returned as the angel held out a quill.
After an intense internal battle, Alastor reached out to grab the quill before slowly signing his name below Azrael’s. His eyes widened a bit as a golden cuff appeared around both his and the angel’s wrists. It was soft and loose. The angel finally smiled before snapping the scroll out of existence and summoning his scythe.
“Your judgments are not mine to decide. I cannot choose the form you take, nor the struggles or powers that come with it,” Azrael started, his words stern and steady, “you have been sentenced to hell, Alastor Boudreaux. I wish you luck.”
The last thing Alastor saw was Azrael’s large, golden scythe swing right at him, not feeling any impact before his confused mind registered that he was falling.
Falling?
Falling!
Alastor landed on what felt like the hardest surface in existence before slowly opening his eyes with a pained groan, his nose filling with the scent of smoke and sulfur.
His vision was blurry as his left eye began to focus more clearly, blinking as he saw what was above him. That… that was a pentagram.
Fuck.
He didn’t even get a full day to experience the powers of his deal.
“Well this is unexpected,” a familiar, feminine voice full of amusement surrounded his being.
Damn…