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m5ria · 11 months

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Chapter 25: The Girl's Evening Out

Sleep is an emotional reset. I don’t feel as bumped as yesterday. It’s easier to think of something else. And, when I remember that I have some venison to sell from yesterday, I grab my stuff and go.

Despite of what I’ve heard, I don’t see anyone actively searching for someone. Anyone. The streets of Hell are as they were before. Which isn’t necessarily a relief.

Half a day I hunt, keeping my mind empty of remorse. The other half I sell todays and yesterday’s meat. I save a wild boar for the hotel, keeping Charlie’s sweet smile in my mind.

When I return to the hotel, I find Angel on the verge of leaving. Well, as quickly as he can be when he’s flirting with Husk. The latter one looks seriously like he wants to kill the spider demon.

“What are you doing, Angel?” I ask him jovial.

“Hi, Elsa!” he turns to me. I see my nickname stuck. “D’you wanna join me, Charlie, Vaggie, and Cherri?”

“Where?”

“A girl’s night - I mean an evening out,” he smiles.

“Plus you,” I point out.

“Plus me,” he winks.

“I suppose I don’t have anything else to do...” I look around me for the effect. I see a couple of sinners near the fireplace, testing it with different substances. After one tiny explosion, I decide on going as fast as possible. “Yeah, let’s go!” After one moment, though, I remember Niffty. “Wait! Isn’t Niffty going to join us?”

“She’s too young!” Angel waves his hand. “Let her entertain Husky here!”

Husk mutters something while Angel offers his arm to me like a merry girl.

I offer my arm instead and he simply takes it. We exit the hotel to see Charlie and Vaggie, arm in arm. Looking different than usual.

“Diana!” Charlie comes to hug me. Awkwardly still, I pat her back until she releases me. “I’ve wanted to invite you myself, but I couldn’t find you!”

“Lucky me I’ve stumbled upon Angel,” I smile at the spider.

“When’s Cherri coming?” Vaggie asks Angel without emotion.

“She’ll meet us there,” Angel simply says.

“Is this a sane idea?” Vaggie means to whisper to Charlie, but we all hear her. “Leaving everyone without any supervision? I hope we won’t find the hotel burnt down.”

A burning corpse flashes before my eyes.

“Relax, Vaggie,” Charlie embraces her. “I left Al a note. Also, we’re returning for dinner.”

We start strolling on the streets of Hell in two pairs. I watch the girls whispering sweetly at each other.

“So, tell me, toots,” Angel asks me. “Are ya considerin’ an acting career?”

I catch Vaggie’s healthy eye glimpse at me for a second. I don’t know what to make of it.

“Ha ha, very funny, Angel,” I almost whisper.

“No, seriously! That play was the right thing at the right time! It made my day.”

“Then I’m happy you’ve relished my suffering,” I mumble.

“It was predisposed to be boring, to be honest. Shakespeare? Why? But ya made it... Laughable! I have the video! D’you wanna watch it?”

“God, no!” I cut him short.

“Suit yaself!” he closes his eyes.

We talk and walk for the next five minutes until we reach a hair salon. Cherri waits for us in front of it.

“Angie! Elsa!” she greets us loudly. “Took ya long enough!”

“Sorry, tits! You tryna win over Husky!” Angel half excuses himself.

“Fortunately for me, I choose better than you.” Then she blinks sweetly at me and whispers in a seductive way: “So, Diana, how you doin’?”

“Ha! No chance,” I chuckle.

“You were sayin’...?” Angel smirks.

“Are we goin’ in or what?” Vaggie speaks out impatiently. She’s been watching us in annoyance. Charlie caresses her arm in an effort to soothe her.

“Tell me again, Vagina,” Angel rolls his eyes. “Why d’you wanna come in the first place?”

“It’s a girl’s evening, Angel,” Charlie reminds him.

“Plus Angel,” Vaggie points out.

“Plus Angel,” Charlie repeats.

“Let’s go, then!” Cherri nudges us.

I don’t get why we are in a hair salon in the first place until I find out that it is a tattoo and piercing salon as well.

“Who’s getting tattoos?” I ask curiously.

“Me and Vaggie!” Charlie jumps excitedly.

“And me,” Cherri adds.

We all turn to Angel, who shakes his head.

“Uhm, hello? This body is flawless!”

“And already full of pink stripes,” Vaggie points out.

“No one asked ya to look, Vags,” Angel hisses.

Cherri laughs while Vaggie only frowns at Angel.

“What are you going to get?” I ask Charlie and Vaggie.

“Oh, nothing...!” Charlie waves her hand. “Only a pair of tattoos to symbolize our eternal and infinite love for each other!”

“No biggie, in short words,” Angel rolls his eyes.

Vaggie sends him daggers from her eyes. I notice Cherri’s absence and look for her, only to find her seated already.

We start spreading throughout the salon. Charlie and Vaggie sit next to each other, while Cherri’s done with her bomb tattoo and goes for a new ear piercing. Angel’s satisfied with a new haircut.

“Angie!” Cherri screams from the other side of the salon. “You look so funny with curls!!!”

“Fear not, bestie, for not everyone can handle this level of fabulousness!”

I snort amused and lean on his chair.

“I think you look kinda cute,” I whisper to him.

“Whatcha doin’?” he looks at me in the mirror.

“Now? Nothing.”

“No, toots!” he chuckles. “Whatcha tryin’ here?”

I’ve thought about that. I’ve conceded there was no way everyone was going to ignore the fact that I haven’t tried anything. But I don’t want to make holes in my skin for no reason. And I’m not too fond of tattoos. I’ve got plenty already.

“I suppose I’ll try something with my hair as well.”

I sit on a chair in front of a mirror, studying my appearance. My color palette is mostly gray, black, and blue from my eyelids and irises. The only out-of-the-place aspect is my hair. The same one I had when I was alive.

“What do you want with your hair, sweetheart?” a succubi demon asks from my behind.

I’m not the same girl I was. I’m a demon, a sinner in Hell. Why keep something so inconsequential as my hair color to keep lying to myself that I don’t belong here?

“I want it black,” I declare.

“You sure?” she questions my choice, irritating me. “Black black would contrast with your pale-gray skin in a nasty way.”

“Then, what do you suggest?” I ask ironically.

Either she hasn’t caught the sarcasm or ignores it. She simply resumes: “You have a nice thing going on with the wolf thing. And the eyes are majestic! I’d suggest something that would highlight them. Like platinum white?”

A flashback turns my mirror reflection into the young girl I was. At my father’s parties, there were awfully lots of guests who looked at me, then at my father, and then asked me where my mother was from. I always kept answering that she was from France and she lived there for all of her life, as well as her parents until she moved to Scotland with my father. But they always were skeptical.

It annoyed me a lot.

Then, there were these maids that sometimes would exaggerate in dressing me in light colors that wouldn’t advantage me at all just to illustrate the perfect daughter of a perfect father.

Bright colors and especially white became a symbol of everything I should be and I am not. It was a lie that became a truth to hide the dark secrets that lay in me and my family.

“No white,” I reject.

The succubi look thoughtful for several seconds, playing with my hair, until her face brightens with an idea: “What about a dark blue? Dark navy? It would match your make-up!”

“I don’t do make-up,” I tell her.

“You don’t?” she looks at my eyelids. “Then...” She means to brush them, but I slap her hand.

“Ok. Dark navy it is.”

She squeals excitedly and begins to work.

After a quarter of an hour, I stare at someone resembling a sad poltergeist. I like it.

“Nice one, Elsa!” Angel winks. I look at him on my left. He’s a beauty.

“You’re one to talk,” I laugh shyly. Then I stand up and go to Charlie and Vaggie. They look at each other’s shoulders enchanted. Charlie has a small purple moth and Vaggie has a small red apple.

“They’re lovely,” I compliment them.

“They’re perfect!” Charlie trembles with energy. Vaggie is not far from it.

We all turn to see Cherri, who catwalks to us, showing off her biceps with the bomb tattoo.

“That’s fire!” Angel’s eyes shine.

“Wait for it!” Cherri stops him.

She takes her hair out of her face to exhibit her three new earrings. They’re positioned at the same distance on the earlobe.

“Oh, my Satan! I’m gonna faint!” Angel puts his hand on his forehead.

We all laugh and walk out of the salon.

“It suits you,” Charlie winks and I smile warmly.

We leave Cherri on our way to the hotel. I watch her jumping on the buildings as if they are trampolines.

We arrive at the hotel, only for an amazing smell to greet us. Husk has disappeared in the meantime, probably to dinner. We enter the dining room together and see the other three in the middle of what looked like a spat between the bartender and the overlord.

“At long last, you’ve made your grand entrance!” Alastor tilts his head, ignoring Husk’s interior blast. “I fretted that our supper would grow frigid whilst awaiting thy arrival!”

He looks my way for a brief moment, either to regard my newest appearance or to mock me. I ignore him, taking my seat next to Angel.

“Sorry, Al!” Charlie sits at the head of the table. “We had a girls’ night - evening out! I’m sure you can understand!” she laughs.

“A girls’ night out?” a foreign voice speaks. We all turn to the other head of the table, where a stylish, jaguar demon poses like a model. “Without moi?”

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m5ria · 1 year

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The Moon in Hell

Summary:

Diana doesn’t know why she arrived in Hell. What she does know is how she plans to live her (after)life: peacefully alone.

However, her one-year Hell anniversary brings her unexpectedly to the Hazbin Hotel. She must learn to adapt to her new surroundings and her new challenging friends.

She soon discovers that she has peculiar powers, powers that no ordinary sinner has. Powers that, if not understood completely, could get her into a lot of trouble. She has to learn as soon as possible to control them … or they’ll control her.

A/N: This is a fanfic inspired by the Hazbin Hotel characters created by VivziePop, as are the drawings.

You can find the story as well on:

Archive of Our Own

Wattpad

Genre: mystery, action, angst

Warnings: Alastor!; violence; sex references; blood; rape; death

Pairing: Alastor x OC; Charlie x Vaggie; AngelDust x Husk; Lucifer x Lilith

Chapters:

Chapter 1: The Fall

Chapter 2: The Realization

Chapter 3: The hungry flames of Hell

Chapter 4: The Hazbin Hotel

Chapter 5: The Wild One

Chapter 6: The shopping sesh

Chapter 7: The Heist

Chapter 8: The Key

Chapter 9: The Ring

Chapter 10: The Dinner(s)

Chapter 11: The Blame

Chapter 12: The feeling of a big mistake

Chapter 13: The Pimp Lord Moth

Chapter 14: The next steps

Chapter 15: The Deal

Chapter 16: The Letter

Chapter 17: The Teleportation

Chapter 18: The Book

Chapter 19: The Graveyard

Chapter 20: The Play

Chapter 21: The Memory

Chapter 22: The Water

Chapter 23: The Cold Manipulation

Chapter 24: The Mistake

Chapter 25: The Girl's Evening Out

Chapter 26: The New Acquaintance

Chapter 27: The Kill

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m5ria · 11 months

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Chapter 19: The Graveyard

I really, really don’t want to jinx anything. But the way I wake up the next morning is only raising my hopes. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe there is something about this deal.

Oh, I know I speak too soon. I haven’t even tried one of Alastor’s tasks.

He didn’t say anything about it yesterday. Regardless, when we struck the deal, he did imply that there won’t be any more lessons until I complete one of his tasks. I suppose I’ll have to wait for him to call on me.

And this is why I know it’s the Radio Demon I’m dealing with and no one else.

Climbing down the stairs, I judge if I could take again the risk of going outside. Maybe resume hunting and hoping I could find buyers who’d be discreet. I’ll have to be really witty about it.

I aim to quickly go into the dining room and grab an apple before I see Angel is at the table, eating porridge.

I don’t have time to go back before he sees me. The tension is slightly awkward. We’ve never truly spoken since that day in the hallway. And mistakenly spying on him doesn’t count as an interaction.

“Y’know,” he rests his head on one upper hand, “you don’t have to avoid me.”

“I don’t know what I have to do,” I shrug.

“I was pissed, alright?” he rolls his eyes. “It passed.”

“Ok.”

I still stay awkwardly in the doorway. I’ve forgotten why I came here in the first place.

“What’s the deal with ya?” he asks.

“Nothing!”

“Are you mad at me? Ever since him, you kept to yaself.”

“No, it’s not...” then I shut up. I can’t reveal the reason why I was so absent these days.

“Ok, then,” he waves one lower hand as if something annoys him. “D’you want to come with me and Cherri to smash some shit?”

He takes me by surprise. The invitation slightly makes me feel better.

“What kind of shit?” I eye him suspiciously.

“There’s an old graveyard not too far from here,” he points to some direction. “We can smash some stones or candles or some shit.”

“Why the hell does a graveyard exist in Hell?” I ask him.

“It’s for the ones who double-die,” he shrugs. When I look at him still confused, he explains further: “Nobody’s mourning anybody here. After the Extermination, the graveyard fills itself with mortuary stones. A shit show from angels.”

“Oh, ok. Then, I’m in!”

His eyes are big for a split of a second as if he can’t believe how easy it was to convince me. Then he stands up and grabs a banana from the fruit bowl on the table.

“Oh! Grab me an apple too!” I remember.

We leave together the dining room. I expected to go to the exit of the hotel, but Angel heads to the bar. To Husk.

“Heyyy, Husky!” he tries to caress the cat demon’s chin, but the other backs out.

“Fuck off, Angel.”

“D’you want to join us?”

“Are you gonna smash old stuff in that graveyard again?” Husk asks annoyed.

“You should try it sometime,” Angel advises. “Now that I think of it, I consider myself quite old as well …”

He winks at Husk.

“You never learn, Angel,” Husk sighs.

“And you never have fun, Husky!”

Husk glances in my direction. After one look, he grabs something below the counter. A cocktail.

“Thanks, Husk!” I smile gladly, taking the bottle. This demon really knows his job.

“Would you like to give me one too, Husky?” Angel blinks sweetly at him. “Well, preferably without the tail.”

“ANGEL!” Husk and I shout at the same time.

“What?” he asks us. “Ah, you’re right! I like your tail!”

I grab Angel by his arm before Husk jumps at Angel’s throat.

In fifteen minutes, we arrive at a foggy graveyard. It looks the same as any other on Earth.

Pity.

“I expected something more … spooky,” I admit.

“It’ll be, toots!” Angel grows his third pair of arms, this time with a baseball bat. I stare at him, but this time no words escape my mouth.

“Did someone say scoots?” a voice comes from the most. I glance at Angel who’s grinning like an idiot.

“Have you heard yaself being called?” Angel provokes.

The silhouette of a girl emerges from the fog. The first thing I notice is that she has one malefic eye. The second one is that she plays with a ball in her hands.

“Take this!” she throws it. Angel jumps to his left and I disappear before the ball explodes.

“Close enough,” Angel stands up and smooths his clothes.

“Oh, hon! I haven’t even tried!” she smiles diabolically. Then she looks at me: “Who’s this?”

“She’s Diana,” Angel presents. “She’s the newest unredeemable sinner who’s probably looking for free rent.”

“Hey!” I protest.

“Ain’t it true, tho?” he raises an eyebrow.

I think of any good way to contradict him, but he’s 100% right. Why would I pretend any different?

“So, this is the chick you robbed that shop with?” Cherri asks Angel. “I’m officially jealous.”

“Hi!” The pathetic introduction makes me immediately slap myself mentally. “I’m …”

“The Wild One!” she tiptoes to me. “The mystery meat merchant.”

“Do you know about me?” I ask her bewildered. Weary.

She nods and says: “No. Angie told me.”

“Oh.”

“So, tell me,” she leans on my shoulder. “How much for a pussy?”

I jump back, leaving her to regain her balance. Angel laughs at her clumsiness.

“I hope you don’t mean cats,” I answer. “And I hope you don’t mean vaginas.”

“A third meaning?” she breathes in sharply with a hand on her mouth. “What can it be?”

“You must excuse Cherri here,” Angel chuckles. “She’s horny ever since she beat the shit out of Sir Pentipuss.”

“Sir Pentious,” she corrects him with a big smile.

“Dammit! You gave it to me!”

“Are we gonna fuck this place up or what?” Cherri shouts unnecessarily.

I look at them, one with a baseball ball and one with bombs. I came unprepared.

Not really, though.

I focus on my hands that clutch the air.

“Hey, Angie,” Cherri whispers to him. “What’s she doin’?”

“Her magic,” he whispers back.

In my hands, ice materializes in the imperfect form of an axe. I look at it quite proud.

“Woah!” Cherri’s eyes widen. “Are you the Snow Queen?”

“More like Elsa,” Angel gives his opinion.

“Wait, I thought you said you were old,” I look at him. “Elsa is from 2014.”

“Haven’t ya been carrying around that awful book all around ya?” Angel rolls his eyes. “How d’you think it came to Hell?”

“Do people bring things to Hell when they die?” I ask him curiously.

“Besides memories?” Cherri comes in. “Not really. Things just appear. Maybe Overlords bring them. Like Vox and his Voxflix or Velvette and her Sinstagram. By the way, you just have to follow me! My name is @bombingbichbabe.”

“Are we smashing things or chit-chatting?” Angel sighs exaggerating.

Cherri casually lets a bomb escape her pocket. Angel jumps like a cat from a cucumber. I, on the other hand, don’t react anyway. The bomb was not fired.

Cherri and I laugh at Angel’s hard breathing, which only accentuates his fluffy chest.

“How I got ya!” she punches him in the arm.

“Whatever!” he rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

I see Cherri summon another bomb. She fires it and then throws it as far as possible. Not three seconds pass before a bunch of rocks fly everywhere.

“Off for a big start, then?” Angel raises his bat.

I smile like a child and spin my ax between my fingers. With a sudden burst of energy, I swing it through a gravestone and it splits the stone in two with a satisfactory sound.

“WOO!” I cry out.

“Nice one!” Cherri looks at the perfect cut.

The sound of shattering multiple stones makes us both turn at Angel, who laughs maniacally. We split and start destroying everything we see.

It’s not like anyone needs them down here anyway.

After a while, the sweet music of explosions is accompanied by another song. A hymn, perhaps? I turn to Cherri and Angel who seem to consider this whole thing a kind of rebellion against Heaven. They give the middle finger to the sky and sing:

“Fuck you, Heaven!

You’re no haven!

Fuck you, Heaven!

You should shatter!”

“Is that an original?” I ask while I break another gravestone in four.

“How else???” Angel’s eyes widen with way too much energy.

When I try the next gravestone, my axe breaks.

“What the...”

I look at the ice axe, which was quite resistant all this time. Maybe I can’t keep ice strong as long as I want to. Or maybe...

I circle the gravestone, trying to read the name on it.

Anita Cunningham.

No fucking way.

That last name … That last name was my mother's maiden surname …

Anita is not her first name.

Of course, it isn’t! It’s an anagram. For Tiana Cunningham.

Anagrams were our secret language.

It doesn’t explain why her name is on this gravestone. She wouldn’t have fallen here. No, she was the sweetest, bravest and kindest person there could be. The best mother a child could ask for.

My mother was my guardian angel. Whenever my father was … temperamental, my mother would shield me the best way she could. Make my life a little more bearable. That was until I turned ten years old. She died suddenly, one day being fine and dandy and the next one gone. My father always told me that she was attacked by stray dogs. Mutilated in a way that he couldn’t recognize her anymore. He never let me see her body.

From that moment … I knew no more affection. Until him. And it was all a ruse.

I don’t realize how much I stayed in front of the gravestone, with my hand on the name, until Cherri’s biggest explosion so far brings me back to the present. I push back my tears and stand up.

“You saw that, Elsa?” Angel screamed at me.

“No more toots?” I shout back, swallowing my pain.

“Nah, you’re officially Elsa.”

“Oh, great …”

I try to summon another axe, but I fail. There’s no more ice in me.

I walk and stop next to them. We stand on the edge of a big hole in the ground. It looks like a meteorite just fell. In the earth, there are remainings of bones and skulls.

“Is it their weird way of celebrating Halloween?” I ask no one in particular.

“It’s so weird!” Cherri speaks up. “The exterminators dissolve demons. There ain’t no corpses left.”

“Oh, fuck it!” Angel raises his hands bored and walks away.

“Where are you going?” I ask him.

Before he answers, a wind surrounds the three of us. It turns into a tornado and we’re pulled towards each other, towards the center.

“What the FUCK?!” Cherri screams.

But Angel and I remain speechless, as we already recognize the voodoo symbols around us. Next thing we know, we’re in the middle of a stage with a red curtain closed.

“Ah, tremendous!!!” someone speaks behind us. We turn and see Alastor smiling cheerfully, accompanied by clapping sounds. “You've brought company!”

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m5ria · 1 year

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Chapter 10: The Dinner(s)

At dinnertime, a loud, awful bell ring scares the hell out of me while I was rehearsing how to use the cutlery. It’s not like I don’t know how to use a fork and knife, but I really don’t know what to expect. Should I know what fork to choose to eat a salad or a piece of meat?

The sudden noise makes the hairs on my tail lift up. I seriously don’t know how I couldn’t hear it yesterday. Was I truly that asleep?

I check myself in the mirror. Other than my usual attire and self, I don’t see something strange. Oh, maybe only the big discomfort my eyes tremble with. I frown and it disappears.

I leave my room emotionless and let myself slide on the railing of the stairs. Even if the Hazbin Hotel is quite tall for a building, I unfortunately soon reach the ground floor. There’s no stalling time. I push the dining room door.

At the table, there are already Charlie and Vaggie. I see that the Husk guy attends this time. Then, I glance at the short girl I’ve never seen before.

I see Charlie sitting at the head of the table, obviously, and Vaggie to her right. The left seat is empty, and then it comes to the short girl, which I assume is the Kylie girl, and then Husker.

Next to Vaggie, there are three empty seats. I choose the farthest away.

“Welcome, Diana!” Charlie greets me as usual. “I’m so happy you’re here!”

“The pleasure is mine,” my words taste like poison in my mouth.

I sit down and there immediately appears the plate and the cutlery. I frown at them, all so shiny and regal.

“Wassup, bitches!” Angel Dust makes his (vibrant purple) appearance. He winks at me before taking his seat.

“How many times have I told you?!” Vaggie mutters from his left. “No swearing during dinners!”

“Ok, Mom!” he rolls his eyes. “Wait, did Kylie return from whoever she’s meeting?”

“No,” Charlie answers.

“Then why’s there another seat?” he points to the right one.

“Because Husk and Niffty are here,” Vaggie points out the obvious,

“No shit,” Angel rolls his eyes again.

“Language!” Vaggie shouts.

I hear Husk groaning. The short girl, however, trembles excitingly. Looking at her, a question raises in my head: “Isn’t she...?”

“Sweet Diana, why don’t you come here?” Angel offers the right seat.

I reluctantly switch seats, grabbing my plate and cutlery in the process.

“Who are you then?” I ask the short girl.

“I’m Niffty!” she jumps on the table, startling everybody. Then, she offers her hand. “Nice to meet you!”

I hesitantly take her hand. She shakes it with surprising speed and force, causing my arm to feel like a noodle.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to greet you! I was in Husk’s room, all this time! Trying effortlessly to untangle his mess! You see, whenever I’m in Husk's room, I have to wear a mask because it stinks! And I was focused on doing my job, I forgot how time passes...”

“Oh, shut the hell up, Niffty!” Husk groans again. “You give me a fucking headache!”

“Language!” Vaggie yells again.

“I need a fucking drink...” He ignores her.

“So soon, my friend?”

A choir of laughter accompanies Alastor as he has materialized to Charlie’s left, startling her. Everyone turns their bored gaze toward him, including myself. Except for Niffty, who seems to radiate more energy in his presence.

“Haha! I’d presume you would wait at least for dinner to arrive. See what I have to offer!”

“Now that you’re here, I know I’m too sober for this,” Husk mutters under his breath.

Alastor takes his seat and, with a flick of his hand, materializes food on the center of the table. All of us stare at the delicacies, which smell and look amazing.

“I have to thank you, dear, for the deer! Ha ha!” he smiles at me, amused by his word game. “I’ve missed eating a purple deer, let alone cooking one!”

I study his face to see if there’s any hint of today’s espionage. But he’s all cheer. No hint of his spying. It still doesn’t discourage me.

“You’re most welcome,” I smile back.

I sniff around and identify deer ribeye. I put some on my plate. I vaguely notice the chatter around the table while I stare at the meat. Thoughts whirl in my head, thoughts that I’d let them free if I wasn’t surrounded by so many demons.

“Why, is there something wrong?”

It takes me some seconds to realize the question was meant for me. I look up and see Alastor, with his usual smile. The only difference is his predatory face.

“Not at all,” I smile politely, hoping to hide the ghosts from my past.

“You hardly touched the food,” he sweetly points out.

As a response, I grab my fork and knife and cut a piece, my eyes locked on his. Then, I eat it. The flavourous taste of it makes me forget everything that was clouding me one second ago. I prevent a moan from surfacing.

However, something on my face must have changed, because he grins satisfied, and then resumes eating.

I try to slowly eat, but there’s been a long time since I ate something so well-cooked. I usually just leave my meat to heat up for a while before eating it. There's a saying that they’re two kinds of people: the ones that eat to live or live to eat. I’m the first kind.

Regardless, the richness of flavors ambushed me and all of my instincts tell me to eat it as fast as I can before I lose it. Of course, I have more self-control than that, but it is a kind of torture.

I try to focus on the others.

“Even if we’re not all of us here,” Charlie begins to say, “I am still so grateful that we’re together and we’re welcoming our newest resident, Diana!”

There’re a few glances towards me, but other than that nothing special.

“Since this hotel opened its doors, we’re more and we’re better! I am so thankful for how much this project evolved. Regardless, there’s always room for improvement! So I’m planning on organizing some event, a bigger event, to allure sinners. I know I have already done that several times with little success...” Charlie glances around shyly, “but this time, I want this to be proper and perfect! So there’s no way anyone can question the hotel’s reputation anymore!”

She glimpses at Alastor, but then quickly turns. I don’t get why.

“I am asking you, the residents of this hotel, to offer some ideas of what this event could be!”

The silence that follows her is pressuring everybody.

“I, for instance,” she breaks the silence, “was thinking of a musical!”

“Charlie...” Vaggie sighs.

“Who doesn’t love musicals?” Charlie keeps on, unbothered. “Right, Al?”

“Of course, my dear,” he chuckles.

A fret surrounds the table which seemingly avoids the upper-right corner.

“Shoulda be the ice breaker then?” Angel speaks to a pocket mirror in his hand. Then, he looks at Charlie: “Need I remind ya how ya last musical went?”

“There’s no need,” Vaggie eyes him. Then, she speaks with a fancy woman's voice: “Breaking news! It seems that porn actor Angel Dust just joined the...”

“Ya still upset ‘bout that?” he rolls his eyes. “Just get a life!”

Vaggie’s iris turns into a skull.

“Ah, right!” he chuckles. “Ya can’t.”

“Okayyy...” Charlie cuts in before Vaggie launches at Angel’s throat, “I see your point, Angel, even if... Nevermind! I’m open to other ideas as well!”

She looks around the table, especially at the quiet ones: Niffty, Husk, and me.

My face stays the same: expressionless. I really can’t think of any idea right now that would convince depressed losers and jerks to turn good.

She sees that, so she tries with Husk instead.

“What can you say, Husk?”

“Oh, I dunno,” he shrugs without energy.

“Try!”

“Ugh...” he thinks for a few seconds, eyeing the drink in his hand. “Maybe... A wine tasting?”

“Of course,” Vaggie mutters.

“And what would be the purpose of this wine tasting other than getting yourself even more drunk than this?” Alastor leans his head on his hand, looking at him.

“Hey! She asked me for an idea; I gave her an idea!”

“Ya like tasting, Husky?” Angel speaks seductively. “How about you taste...?”

“ANGEL DUST!” Vaggie shouts at him.

“What?” his eyes sparkle mischievously. “I was just suggesting he should try the Cherry Cider Cherri's selling. It’s divine!”

“So, it is a drink after all!” I point out.

He turns to me to wink funnily. I smile entertained.

The rest of the evening resumes with worse and worse ideas. However, when Angel implies an orgy would be quite effective, the majority of us, including myself, suddenly decide that we had enough of the food. The dinner is over.

I retreat to my room and tune in to the small radio on a nightstand. It feels weird to hear the host talking, now that I know him. It feels weirder to know he’s some feet away, judging by the presence of the radio tower incorporated into the hotel.

No names.

☽

After a long day of hunting, today’s chef, which seems to be Vaggie, decided to keep the rabbit I brought for another time. Instead, she delighted in boiling chicken soup.

“This was my abuela’s recipe,” my ears pick up her whispered words towards Charlie.

The Princess smiles warmingly and kisses her on the cheek. Angel pointedly drops his spoon into the soup.

“So,” Charlie speaks up, a little bit flustered, “after our talk yesterday, as well as some advising here and there,” she glances first at Alastor, then at Vaggie, “I came to the conclusion of organizing a gala in one month!”

“Gala?” Angel sighs. “Not a party?”

“Seeming that at the last party you ended up out of it, we think it’s the best idea,” Vaggie bites.

“I’m so sorry, Vaggie,” Angel says sarcastically, “that the only way to have fun around here is to drink.”

Vaggie breathes hard as if to refrain. I don’t know whose idea was to put them next to each other.

“Anyway,” Charlie breaks the silence, “I was thinking of the theme of flowers for the gala. They’re so rare here, and beautiful! They might cheer some demons up!”

“Or give ‘em allergies,” Angel mutters under his breath.

“What do you all think?” Charlie asks us.

“Ah! I personally think it’s quite an elegant idea!” Alastor answers. “I shall help you with the music, then!”

“Is it going to be ol’ music again?” Angel asks, almost exasperated. “Last time you chose, some of the guests died of boredom. Literally.”

“This time we won’t invite anyone!” Charlie cuts in before Alastor can say something. “It is meant to attract more... distinguished demons. Like Alastor’s friend, Rosie.”

I notice a pleasant smile on Alastor’s face.

“Does this mean Angel can’t come?” Husk asks, relieved.

Angel starts to say something, showing him a middle finger, but Charlie interrupts him: “Everyone at the hotel is invited, Husk. Including you.”

“To serve drinks, I presume,” he mutters under his breath.

“No, to attend,” Charlie clarifies.

He looks at her quite bewildered. I don’t know how it was in the past, but I guess he was never invited as a guest.

“Why invite only a few?” I ask Charlie. “Isn’t it a kind of discrimination?”

Vaggie looks at me with a warning eye, but Charlie merely gestures: “Giving the last two galas, where we did invite anyone and ended poorly, this time I target a selective few. I think that if we start small first, we can spread good energy about the hotel and then attract other demons as well.”

“Does it mean inviting mainly Overlords?” I wonder.

“Not really,” she disagrees. “It means inviting influential people. Only for this gala. See if we can accomplish something this way.”

“An experiment...” I whisper.

“Does it mean I can wear my new dress?” Niffty suddenly asks with big eyes.

“Yes, of course!” Charlie looks at her dearly. I suppose the girl attracts quite easily the affection of others. I met her yesterday for the first time, but I feel I would unreasonably fight for her if she’d be put in any danger.

“Can I wear my new dress too?” Angel bats his eyelashes, copying Niffty.

“Uhm... Sure?”

“As long as it’s appropriate,” Vaggie hisses at him.

“And it doesn’t give you any improper ideas!” Alastor cocks one eyebrow.

“Can it give you any ideas?” Angel... flirts with Alastor?

“I can assure you, niminy-piminy spider, that Hell’s going to freeze before that happens.”

“Y’know,” Angel stretches himself over the table towards the Radio Demon, “I am the reason why Hell’s so hot!”

“Amazing! So all it takes is to remove you and then it gets back to normal!” Alastor snickers.

“Oh, boy,” Angel kind of whispers to himself. “I didn’t think this through.”

“E-xactly!”

“Can we all go back to discussing the pressing issue?” Vaggie sighs, annoyed.

“Which was...?” Angel asks.

“My dress!” Niffty jumps from her seat.

“NO!” Vaggie shouts.

Niffty sits back deflated. Her smile is still there, though.

What’s the matter with this non-stop smiling? It’s creepy.

For the rest of dinner, they all discuss details about this supposed Gala. I listen, mostly watching the ongoing debate like a ping-pong match. There are Angel Dust’s sexual jokes or Vaggie’s non-stop complaints... It’s almost comical.

In my room, I turn on the TV where, on 666 news, a similar battle like the one from dinner takes place between two hosts and a chef.

No names.

☽

Day three. Dinner number three. And it seemed it all went the same. We even had soup again.

I managed to get used to this new environment of non-stop buzzing around me.

And when I say that, I mean I completely ignore it.

However, the conversation takes a weird turn, and I prick up my ears.

“And this is why a smile saves you lots of troubles,” Alastor tells Vaggie. “Speaking of trouble, have you heard, my dear? What happened some days ago in the center?”

“The hide-and-seek party that turned into an orgy?” Angel’s eyes widen.

“No,” Alastor bluntly cuts him. Then, he turns to Vaggie.

“That some fools tried to steal from Jewls fashion shop, then?” she asks, confused.

The Deer Demon nods.

“Yeah, apparently they escaped,” Vaggie shrugs. “For now.”

A chill goes through me and I look at Angel. He looks quite relaxed, but I notice his stillness. He doesn’t know what Alastor knows. Judging by the approach to this discussion, I suspect what the Radio Demon tries to achieve.

“Didn’t they identify them?” Charlie asks worriedly. “To steal from this kind of shop... It’s almost suicidal.”

“Apparently, they only have their descriptions for now,” Vaggie says uninterested. “They’ll identify them in a matter of hours.”

“Oh no, they already did,” Alastor smiles enormously. “Well, at least one of them.”

I stare at him as if to say You’re on thin ice, but I know it’s fruitless. My hand clenches on the knife. For therapeutic reasons.

Angel swallows heavily on my left. I don’t look at him, not to give any clue of anything unusual here. Still, I feel him tense.

I am tense.

“Really?” Vaggie asks uninterested. “And why should I trouble myself on knowing them?”

“Hey, Alastor!” I call him. He turns to me, with one eyebrow up. Curious. Arrogant. “How about I tell you why you’re so obvious?”

Everyone turns to me, quite surprised by my sudden intervention. I am pretty sure they already have a quiet picture of me. My sudden outburst, especially directed at the Radio Demon, is not something even I could have foreseen.

However, it seems Alastor doesn’t think the same, as his smile only widens.

Maybe he’s the only one who knows what I’m trying to do. A deal. I give him an opportunity to receive information, something that he clearly wants, based on his spying and constant teleports. In exchange, he keeps his mouth shut.

A choice for him: knowledge versus entertainment.

I ignore the fact that I don’t quite know what I can offer him to be useful. I have some ideas and, as long as I play confidently, I can earn what I want.

“I’d be delighted to hear your piercing observation,” he leans his head to one side.

“Even if you have the element of surprise, you do the same thing every time,” I say sweetly. “Your pattern is your weakness, and some demons can see it.”

I hear Angel snort next to me. I may have subtly borrowed some of his words.

Alastor’s smile remains, but his eyes narrow. I can tell it didn’t quite satisfy him. But is it sufficient? It was an honest answer.

“Oh, she burnt ya!” Husk laughs. I see that he already has an empty glass at his side.

However, everyone else stays still, waiting for him. There’s always this tense atmosphere that I don’t really get. Sure, he’s an Overlord, but Charlie is the freaking Princess of Hell. If it’s about power, wouldn’t they be more scared of her?

“Thank you, dear,” he says. “I shall consider your remark.”

It’s neither a yes nor a no. I can’t decide if he took the deal.

I look at Angel for a brief second. He seems a little bit more relieved. I want to say to him something to loosen up, but I can’t dare to suggest letting his guard down. For all we know, the shop owners know him. And he’s famous. Quite easy to find.

“Anyway...” Charlie breaks the silence, “Speaking of interesting events... I’ve already made the list of guests! It is non-negotiable, I’m afraid!” she glances at Alastor. “I’ve already started making the invites!”

“Oh, then I suppose you’ll have to announce your gala soon enough,” Alastor wonders. “Or, to say, I shall.”

“Thank you, Al!” she looks at him gratefully, as it seems there’s no opposition to the guest's list.

However, she doesn’t seem to have picked on his dark implication. Vaggie has, though, as she stiffens.

“Why do you say soon?” she asks him suspiciously.

“Oh, just for everyone to have time to get ready,” he waves a hand. “Some of the guests might have some other pressing issues... to deal with.”

“If you know something, Alastor, just bloody say it,” Vaggie gets impatient.

She somehow broke her own rule, but I don’t get to react anyhow since Alastor has decided to drop a bomb:

“Oh, nothing much! Only that they’ll be occupied with chasing Angel Dust.”

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A/N: Hey, guys!

I just wanted to say that I am so grateful of your support! I worked so hard on this story and drawings and there will be definitely more… maybe even a second book? Who knows?

I would really appreciate it if you'd spread a good word about it! That is, if you like it ;)

Also, it is available on AO3 and Wattpad as well! Go check them out!

Thank you! So much!

ria

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m5ria · 1 year

Text

Chapter 6: The shopping sesh

We gave up on holding arms. We just stroll on the streets of Hell. I sometimes throw glances at Angel and marvel. He’s quite attractive for a demon, with his freckles and shiny fur. His carefreeness only boosts it.

I feel like I should say something, anything, as we walked quite long in silence. But I don’t know what. I’m always awkward about chatting.

“So,” he seems as if he read my mind, “how long have you been down here?”

“A year,” I bluntly respond. Then, to pull the strings of a conversation, I continue: “Actually, it’s my first year anniversary.”

“Really?” he wonders. “You’re the youngest one so far. Vaggie came here some years ago.”

“Yeah...”

Another moment of uncomfortable silence passes before I say: “I... am quite new, as in I don’t know a lot of demons.”

“Don’t worry, babe, I don’t know lots of demons either,” he shrugs. “Well, I meet lots of demons, but I don’t know them, as per se.”

“I think I recognize you from some posters,” I mention. “Ads with you are all over the city.”

“Yeah, well, as I said, I’m quite famous,” he winks at one Imp on the other side of the street.

“Right. Uhm...” I think of a quick question, “what’s Cherry Bomb?”

I thought it was a kind of juice with cherries, but Angel suddenly giggles.

“Not a what, toots. Who. She’s my girl bestie. She runs a territory not far from here. She’s the best at blowing shit up.”

“I suppose that’s really exciting to have in a friend.”

“We hang out sometimes, exploding buildings or fuck people up, but it’s not the same as it was.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m staying at this hotel, don’t I? I have to behave...” he sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Is Charlie punishing you if you do something bad?” I ask him.

I expect an answer, but he starts laughing heartily. I feel as if I missed something, or said something wrong. “What?”

“Sure thing,” he manages to say. “Charlie delights in punishing us! Severely! Whipping is her specialty! She knows all the right places! And the occasional handcuffing...”

“Angel!” I cut him off. “I was serious!”

“That’s the funny part!” he points out, still chuckling.

I stay silent until he stops.

“Haven’t ya met her?” he asks incredulously. “She’s like, the sweetest innocent demon down here!”

“How should I know?” I backfire. “She’s, after all, the Princess of Hell.”

“You think she’s acting out to mess with ya?” his smile only grows.

I don’t say anything.

“I guess you have a point,” he shrugs. “Nothing here is what it seems.”

“Are you what you seem?” I look intensively at him.

“Oh!” he puts his hand on his fluffy chest in a flattered way. “If you mean that I’m incredibly charming and sexy, then I guess yeah, I am.”

“And incredibly modest,” I mutter.

“Ya words!”

“How about the rest of you?” The more I know about them, the better.

“Well, Vaggie is really bitchy, but her bark is worse than her bite. I must warn ya, tho, her bark might deafen you. Now more than ever, since she’s with Charlie and super overprotective over her.”

“They’re together?” I ask curiously. I underestimated their hug .

“For some time now,” Angel rolls his eyes. “Honestly, it’s so annoying. Like, during dinner, they make all these eyes at each other and I suddenly lose all my appetite! Or when I hear ‘em some nights having fun. Lucky me I’m away most of the nights...”

“Where do you go?”

“Working,” he says with subtle meaning. “Honestly, it might be the only way I have fun nowadays.”

I hear a slight touch of sadness in his voice, but I can’t figure out why. There are so many reasons to be unhappy in this place.

“Is it wearing out at the hotel?”

“Not really,” he admits. “There are some times when Charlie hosts galas or parties. Sure, they are suitable for the cause, so no drugs.” He then makes a miserable face and says: “I miss drugs...”

“So you’re clean?”

“For almost five months!” he throws his hands in the air exasperated. “It’s so exhausting!”

“Shouldn’t it be easier?”

“I dunno!”

“But you can drink?” I ask him in the hopes he’ll cheer up.

“Oh, yeah. At least that! Y’know, when Al got to this place, he summoned the bar and a sexy bartender alongside other things. It’s the best thing that happened to the place!”

“Al?” I ask him, confused.

“Alastor,” he clarifies.

“The cat demon that appeared when I was there?” I raise my other question.

“Yeah, his name is Husk. He’s usually just drinking and rude, but get this! The other day I made him laugh!”

“Really?” I say with uninterest.

“Yeah! I was returning from my late shift, and he was drunk af on the floor behind the bar. I barely noticed him! I came to him, kicked him, see if he was dead. He looked at me and laughed.”

He’s all smiley

“Is he, like, an employee?”

“He would be if he’d have been paid,” Angel reckons. “Maybe that’s why he’s so miserable all the time. I heard he was a great deal. Now, I guess he’s good at being sexy. And listening to drunk people ramble ...”

“Drunk people, as in you?” I mock him.

“Ah, such an insult, babe! How am I gonna recover from that?”

“Tell me, Angel, how much do we still have to go? And where exactly are we going?”

We arrived on some of the busiest streets I’ve seen in Hell, with lots of lights that hurt my eyes. Ads that attract all kinds of demons inside.

“Diana, baby, we are having a tour of Pentagram City’s center, of course!”

“How come? Weren’t we supposed to only buy some clothes?”

“Hey, I know I complimented ya outfit, but it was a joke,” he assures me. “Ya need real help with your clothing style!”

“I don’t have a style,” I point out.

“Exactly. That’s why you need help.”

I keep my eyes trained in front, emotionless.

“And,” he keeps on, “I know the best dressing shops here.”

“Are you offering your help to other hotel residents?” I wonder.

“Not really,” he admits. “I don’t have too many neighbors, to say. Only another girl, Kylie. She went to visit someone some days ago. And, of course, Kylie has style, so she needs no help.”

“Isn’t the hotel supposed to be crawling with sinners?” I opine. “It’s a miserable place, Hell. Don’t they want to leave it?”

“Ya forget that they ended up here for some reason, toots,” he looks at me seriously. “Not everyone wants to leave Hell. And, if they do, they don’t want it that much. I am honestly not sure why I’m still here.”

“You don’t want to redeem yourself?”

“I don’t believe there’s a way, really,” he shrugs. “Charlie is a dreamer in a world full of nightmares.”

“Then why do you still stay?”

“Free rent.”

I sigh. Of course, there is this advantage.

“Ok, my turn,” he stops me. “Why didn’t ya come sooner?”

“I guess there was no reason to,” I confess. “And I don’t have any opinion on redemption.”

“Vaggie said you’re the Wild One. What does it mean?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I shrug. “It was the first time I heard it too.”

“Really?” he gapes.

“I told you I’m not an outdoor person.”

“No, ya told me you don’t have too many friends,” he points out.

“Isn’t it the same thing?”

“Not really, no. And what did ya do before? You must have survived somehow in this hellhole.”

“I hunted,” I tell him. I suppose there’s no hiding it. I will still hunt. “I sold my venison and got money.”

“Oh, how precious you’ll be to us then!”

“Why?”

“Because we all like some well-cooked venison. Or simply raw venison, in some cases. Dinner is quite the best time of the day.”

“I was wondering about that...” I start by saying, but he stops. We’re in front of a big shop. Lots of colors, lots of lights. My head starts to hurt.

“After you,” he gestures.

I thank him and go inside. A deep perfume hits me and gives me nausea. My killer instincts fret me. In any case of danger, I hardly can rely on my smell.

“Come on, then!” Angel calls me.

☽

We wandered through the entire store. It looks like we came here mostly for him, as he picked an entire basket of new shiny clothes. I barely have any T-shirts.

Unfortunately, after one hour he notices that and focuses entirely on me. Spinning around me like Cinderella’s godmother, he keeps on pestering me with loads of questions such as:

“What’s your boob size?”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Do you like molded or loose clothes?”

I suppose I should be glad that my opinion matters.

I tell him that I like dressing classy when I don’t have to be active, but I do it rarely since I am hunting the majority of the time. When he asks me about what I wear when I hunt, I say blue gear with lots of pockets.

“Why blue?” he asks, confused.

“Well, I hunt in the blue woods. I need to camouflage.”

“Oh, my! You come from that part of town?”

“Is there something wrong with it?” I ask him provokingly.

“I heard that’s quite empty,” he recalls. “And there are lots of sinister demons crawling around there.”

“It can’t be that rural as I still got to see your posters,” I mock him.

“I told ya,” he puffs his chest. “I’m incredibly famous.”

With what I told him, he soon chose items that are way more stylish than I’d ever seen, dead or alive. Still, I see he minded the pocket rule. And the camouflage rule, as there’s no glitter.

“Wow, Angel, you do have talent,” I marvel at a dark blue sweater with white shirt endings.

“D’you expect anything else from moi ?” his pink eyes are shining with pride.

“I suppose I expected everything to be... not me,” I confess.

“You gotta trust me more, toots,” he winks and then turns his back to another aisle.

I gather up the courage to check the prices and I almost faint. An entire week of hunting can pay for that one sweater. As for the others (some T-shirts, gym pants, cargo pants, a black top, and a jacket with pockets), they sum up to be pretty close to what I had in total before it burnt away.

That goat demon didn’t suffer enough.

“Angel!” I yell at him.

“What?” he runs to me.

“I can’t afford this!” I whisper-scream.

“Don’t worry, babe!” he waves his hand. “I got you covered!”

“I won’t let you buy this for me,” I viciously say.

“Good thing, ‘cause I won’t,” he chuckles. “I know the shop’s owner. I have some discounts,” he winks at me.

I don’t want to know how he obtained those discounts.

“Still! You don’t have to!” Then, I sigh frustrated: “Angel, why are we in the most expensive shop you could have possibly found?”

“Stop complaining. Have fun already!”

With that, he throws a black dress in front of me. A dress that is as long as me.

“How am I going to wear this without stumbling?” I raise one of the many questions I have.

“It’s not for ya, toots! It’s for me!”

“You wear dresses?” I ask him curiously.

“What?” he withdraws the dress from me. “You think that just because I’m a boy I can’t wear dresses?”

“What, no!” I defend myself. “It’s just that I’m surprised. Good surprised.”

“Calm yourself, toots! I was just messing with ya!” he ruffles my hair before going somewhere else.

I stare behind him, trying to understand the mix of emotions I have regarding his persona. No matter how arrogant or inappropriate he seems, I find that I like this guy. And I don’t like it.

People I like tend to use it against me.

Control yourself.

I follow him, not sure of what I can do all alone here. He compares that one dress with another red one. He soon discards the latter one.

“Why did you reject it?” I come to him. “It looked marvelous. I’m sure it’d look great on you.”

“Everything looks great on me,” he points out. “But red’s not my color. You see all this pink?”

He gestures to his hair and... Tattoos?

“Pink and red don’t go well. Besides, red’s Smiles’ color.”

“Smiles?”

“Alastor.”

“You do have a lot of ways of calling him,” I mention.

“He has lots of names for calling: the Radio Demon, Radio bitch, the Deer Demon. My personal favorite is Strawberry Pimp. It’s an original.”

“The Radio Demon?” The sudden realization washes over me. That’s why I recognized his voice.

Back when I was alive, I used to listen to the radio after each dinner, alongside watching occasional TV news or reading newspapers. When I arrived in Hell, my habits didn’t change much in comparison with what I watched or listened to.

“Don’t ya know ’im?” he asks me with big eyes. Then, he shrugs: “I’m one to talk. I didn’t know him either.”

“Should I know him?” I pretend I know nothing.

“He’s one of the most powerful Overlords here. You should ask Vaggie for a complete mystic introduction, but in short words, he controls the radio.”

Overlord. Oh my.

“So, each Overlord controls something?” I try to distract myself.

“I guess, but don’t ask me. I don’t do politics.”

“Does Alastor look for redemption?” I ask him incredulously.

He starts to laugh heartily, attracting other demons’ looks from all over the store. I have an overwhelming urge to hide in the clothes.

“Alastor might as well take Lucifer’s place, fer all I know,” Angel wipes a tear. “Nah-nah-nah, he’s helping Charlie with the hotel.”

He turns to his clothes, still laughing, leaving me with my thoughts. The Princess of Hell and an Overlord allied to make sinners good. I’ve never heard a more preposterous idea. I can’t imagine in any way that this is real.

“Why does he help her then?”

“For fun, he claims. Watch sinners trying to reach Heaven only to fail. I s’pose it’s more logical than what Charlie tries to accomplish.”

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in one year in Hell is that demons’ minds are hella twisted. I gave up on understanding any of them the first week. That’s one of the many reasons why I prefer my time alone.

“Y’know,” Angel turns to me. “I’ve been meaning to ask ya something.”

I look at him plainly. I would encourage him to be free with me, but I want to avoid any personal questions.

He, on the other hand, looks at me puzzled, as if he’s searching for an adequate way to speak. Then he sighs:

“How d’you know he was behind ya?”

For a few seconds, I am confused about what he asked. I turn my head to see if someone is indeed behind me, but then I understand his question.

“You mean Alastor?”

“Yeah.”

“Uhm...”

I try to think of the reason why I knew. I forgot to analyze my new ability, talking non-stop with Angel. It is as inexplicable as the first two are. It was my first time. I already dread the next time.

“It’s just,” Angel continues over the silence, “Smiles tends to come out at the perfect moments to scare the shit out of everyone. It’s like his kind of prank. And nobody, even Charlie, can tell him to stop it. I seriously think there’s gonna be a time when someone double-dies from a heart attack. Nobody can predict his shitty coming.”

“Isn’t it a general rule about teleporting?”

“You mean spatial warping? I mean, yes and no. Some demons can do it, but they leave a trail behind them if you know how to look. You can predict it. With Alastor, you can’t. At least until now.”

A trail... The black streak. But I don’t think he means it that way.

Now I understand why they all looked so bewildered. Poor them! Being pranked so many times by that prick, not having any hope of getting back at him, only for me to waltz in and show it can be done.

But I can’t reveal how I did it. Not only for my sake. I genuinely don’t know either.

“It’s... part of my hunting experience. I did hunt all of my life. I suppose I know where to look,” I shrug.

“Hmm...” he regards me for a few seconds. Perhaps checking if I’m valid. Then, his eyes round, and a sudden boost of energy flows through him: “You gotta teach me!”

“Alright, but you have to keep it a secret!” I wink at him. Truth be told, maybe this will be my way to repay him for these clothes. Even if it’s a sham.

“Let’s get outta here!” he walks towards the payment point. I follow him nervously.

He leans on the counter with one waist hand and addressed the Cyclops lady cashier: “Hi, sweetheart! Call in Jaws fer me, would ya?”

“Jaws is not working here anymore,” she bluntly says.

“What d’you mean?” Angel asks, bothered.

“I mean he died.”

“He double-died? How?”

“How am I supposed to know?” the lady looks irritated at him.

“I have some discounts from him,” Angel mentions.

“Whatever discounts you had, they died with him,” she looks uninterested. “Now, will you give me your products to scan them?”

He hesitates for one second. I only see his back, but I know he’s already plotting something.

“Gimme a sec!” he says and then turns to me. He leans his whole upper body to reach my ear on my head, seeming that he’s two feet and a half taller than me, and then whispers: “How fast can you run?”

I immediately feel offended and whisper back: “I’m a fucking wolf.”

“Good girl!” he pats my head. “Then, run!”

Next Chapter

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A/N: Hey, guys!

Srry for my one-day delay! I hope the longer chapter makes up for it ;)

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m5ria · 1 year

Text

Chapter 3: The hungry flames of Hell

Warning: death

One year has passed since I found out I am in Hell. And, for one year, I still don’t completely understand why.

I regained a big part of my memory regarding my past life. Still, no death memories. Only enough to judge my life. To put it on a balance.

I did some things good and some things bad. Most of them aren’t good or bad. Yes, I killed. Animals and people. For people, it was self-defense. Or accidents. I didn’t kill innocent people. I didn’t kill unprovoked.

So what brought me to this hellhole?

I soon discovered I’m in the Pentagram House, in the Pride Ring. Fitting, I suppose. If one deadly sin would describe me, it would probably be pride. But every human has faults. It doesn’t mean they should fall here!

Still, it isn’t random. Apparently, all sinner demons, aka dead humans from Earth, are in the Pride Ring. None of us can travel past its borders to the other Rings.

For the past year, I tried to understand my surroundings, my abilities, and myself. It seemed this would be my (after)life after all.

The first weeks I survived on leftovers from richer demon’s trash, but I soon found a string and assembled myself a horrible bow, but good enough to kill my first Hell animal (a bunny with flying ears). I sold it quite well surprisingly and I bought myself a better bow and arrows. Since then I have hunted in the blue forest. Sometimes, I replaced the bow with my claws and teeth and trained myself.

I soon discovered I have more abilities. I couldn’t execute them, but I received clues of potentially various powers. One day, I protected myself against a falling branch by conjuring an ice shield. Another day, I stumbled from a tree and fell, only to hit not the ground, but a bush five feet away.

The hints I still have to figure out are the invisible hand that I thought I lost or the occasional strange feeling of knowing... My target’s fear. I still don’t know how to put it in words.

Another thing I’ve learned down here is the hierarchy. At the bottom of the chain are Imps and hell hounds, followed closely by succubi, all born in Hell. Next, there are regular sinners, trying to top over each other, some of them free and some of them slaves of Overlords. Overlords seem to be stronger demons with more unknown powers and big properties. I’ve sometimes tried to compare myself to them. Where do I fit? I don’t think I am an Overlord, but I’m not a regular sinner either, as I do possess more abilities than pure bloodthirstiness.

I didn’t interact with other demons. No, I wasn’t social in my past life, I’m not here. It would have been good to have some allies down here, but I think I can handle myself quite alright on my own. This means surviving Hell.

Yet, I didn’t want to survive Hell. I wanted to live in Hell. And then leave Hell. It isn’t my place.

I soon witnessed one of the most atrocious moments Hell experiences each year: Extermination Day. There’s a clock in the city that tells you how many days until some angels get down here to get rid of some sinner demons because of overpopulation. It doesn’t feel too reasonable or ethical to let unknown forces decide by sheer bad luck when you should perish forever, but I still had to hide.

After Extermination Day, the streets were full of people cheering on being alive and then fighting over free land. I snorted witnessing such idiocy when I came upon a screen showing the news. I was not usually interested in anything here, but the presence of the Princess of Hell picked my interest.

Because she didn’t look threatening. She wasn’t there to gloat or kill. She came up with an original idea. Absurd idea.

Rehabilitate demons. Send them to Heaven.

I watched her, looking for any signs this could be possible, but she mostly embarrassed herself by singing and then fighting the hostess. I discarded the little hope I had of getting out of here.

Hope. Such a beautiful lie.

This was four months ago. Since then, I hunted harder, and longer, so that I could get the money to buy myself a small piece of land. A small house. I was not too keen on sharing a flat with a block of demons and I wanted solitude.

The cottage was not too much, but it was perfect for Hell’s standards. I made myself comfortable, painting the walls, repairing broken furniture, and constructing new furniture. In other words, a simple life, rivaling the one I had before.

Or, at least, it was.

Right now, I am reading on my couch. A big noise came from outside. I didn’t mind it, but my ears trembled slightly and I understood their silent warning.

I discard my book and look out the window. The street doesn’t look particularly odd, as demons running and screaming are the normality here. Still, I study the environment.

I grab my bow and arrows and leave the house. I look around me and don’t see anything. However, the sound is getting louder and I smell... Explosives.

Not soon enough I jump on the street while behind me my house blows up. The hot air burns my back. I scream in pain.

I drag myself farther onto the street from the only hope I had of normal life here. I don’t care for cars. Let them run me over if they want. I lost.

However, no car came to hit me. I reach the opposite pavement. I grab a fence and stand up to see my house in flames.

I didn’t live enough in it to grow attached to it, but I left there my one year of work and struggle. My books. My treasures. My creations.

Rage fills me like never before and I grab my bow from my back. I still have one arrow, as the others slipped, but that’s enough.

I locate the demon responsible for my loss. A laughing goat demon in a small helicopter. He’s so small he looks like a child. He could be a child.

Unfortunately for him, I don’t care.

Focusing on the target, I harshly whisper: “Die, bitch!”

And then let go of my arrow.

What happens next is another explosion, this time in the air. A weird explosion where the fire consumes everything: metal, meat, screams. Only ashes fall on the ground.

I watch, not nearly satisfied at the quick death the demon had. My house is like him. Ashes.

I run, picking on the way every arrow I see, and walk into what was supposed to be the living room. My couch is a small hill of gray dust. The book I was reading, “Divine Comedy”, is thin air. Everything is fucking ashes and dust and smoke!

I suddenly feel a vibration in my pants pocket. I reach for my hellphone which apparently I still have. I see the fucking notification: “Congrats! You survived one Hell of a year!”

I have the urge to throw it the hell away, but I hesitate. I need it.

I look for the hellphone number, one of the few, which I still don’t know why I kept it. I sigh and gather the courage to press Call.

The rings last for a few seconds. After that, I hear an enthusiastic voice on the other side, too cheerful for my state of mood right now:

“Hello, this is the Happy Hotel!”

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Chapter 27: The Kill

Warnings: blood; death

“Are you blind?” I ask him mad. “Can’t you see? I’m not in the mood!”

“Ha ha! Perfect! It should be easier for you, then!”

He grabs my arm roughly. I try to back off, but he brings me to his chest. The voodoo symbols surround us as we leave the hotel and arrive... somewhere.

A park.

“Why are we...?” I start asking, but he puts a finger to my lips. I stumble back from his grasp, wiping myself off of him. For some reason, though, I keep quiet as he instructed.

We’re in a place where trees and bushes, as well as the night, cover us. Turning around, I can see two playgrounds. One at the opposite of each other. They look as if they’ve been abandoned for decades. It would have unsettled me if I wouldn’t be occupied figuring out the meaning of this.

Out of the blue, an Imp demon comes up. It’s the first time I’ve seen an Imp child. They go straight to a swing and hop on it, murmuring a song.

If I thought it was weird before, now it is completely sinister.

With a remorseful realization, I turn around to keep an eye on the Radio Demon, only to not find him in his ... corporal form. He’s only a shadow, with only his bright red eyes and yellow teeth shining in pitch black.

“Let me tell you something that will ease your grieving heart,” his smile turns pitiful, irritating me. “The Imp that you killed yesterday? Zumo. It’s the Spanish word for Juice. He was abducting other Imp kids and filtering them of blood to make the best cocktails the Sloth Ring’s ever tasted.”

Uncontrollably, a shudder of horror shakes me from head to toe, but it’s not directed to the Overlord. Then, pure anger takes its place, all towards another demon. A lost demon. A fucking demon that I fucking grieved for a fucking day.

Stop!

Are you so blindly going to trust Alastor? His words can be so effortlessly a lie. What does he accomplish by telling me that?

“So?” I let the word out, hiding my distress.

“So,” his darkness surrounds me. I hardly can see the Imp kid. “You killed an Imp who deserved it, even if it wasn’t your intention. However, the next task of yours is to kill another Imp, this time with intention.”

A shiver goes through me when he finally speaks the words: “Kill that Imp child.”

I jerk a step back, trying to recognize any human aspect of the Radio Demon. He’s only a shadow. There’re no more smiley eyes, no red hair, no coat. No gentleman manners, no songs, no nothing. He’s the darkness itself.

“Alastor,” I try to reason with him. “Why? Why kill a child? He’s done nothing wrong!”

“Oh, how gullible you are, my dear!” he chuckles from everywhere. “It’s so easy for you to say they’re innocent when you know nothing! Just the other day you defended the other Imp!”

“Imps are Hell borns! They can choose to be good. Like Charlie! Charlie is good and she’s from Hell. Sinners made their choice. Imps didn’t!”

“Oh, no, no, no!” he laughs heartily. “That’s absolutely sheer absurdity! I haven’t come across such a rib-ticklin' notion in ages, I'll tell you!”

I want to literally bark in frustration. He doesn’t even take me seriously anymore!

“What if I say no?”

“Will you break so soon, little wolf?”

“Give me another task!”

“I’m not sure this is how our deal works,” he snickers. He starts condensing into a more humane form. “Unless…”

I raise my eyes to what should be his face.

“Oh, well, I suppose we can say the other task is to offer your soul to me!”

Fuck no!

Fuck the fucking Radio Demon! Fuck this deal…

He could do whatever he wants with my soul. He could kill with me thousands of children like that one. He could do worse things. I can’t let him.

This is the price I have to pay. For my thoughtless bargain.

The realization of all of this hits me fully. There’s no way out of this. There’s no more bargaining.

I exhale in shuddering breaths.

It means that it’s the first time I won’t kill by need, mistake, or self-defense. I will murder.

I look at the Imp child, who’s naively singing a childhood song. I silently beg of him to run, to hide, to call for backup or something. Anything to stop me from doing this.

“Tic tac, little wolf,” Alastor whispers in my ears. “The night is young, but I am not!”

I make one step. I make the other. I push through the bushes. The light finally shines on me.

The light shall be the witness of my corruption.

I think of all the ways this could be quick and painless. Thank God Alastor didn’t choose himself the killing method.

God... So far away from here.

I have my daggers as always. A stab into his heart, but he might still feel the pain. Cut his throat? Too brutal. Oh, how I wished I had poison! But it's not my way of killing.

That’s it.

I don’t mean to torture my animals. I simply kill them. They fall dead. They don’t feel pain for too long. And I do that... With my bow and arrows. Which are back at the hotel...

I don’t need to have them, though.

I stop sneaking, not needing any more proximity. With my magic, I start summoning ice and manipulating it in a solid arc. Then, for the string for the bow, I search for the gelatinous kind of ice. The arrow is lightweight and reflects the light like a snowflake.

I tense the bow with the arrow and focus. Everything these days is about focus. Everything will be from now on.

The Imp child is with his back to me. I target first the heart, but then I go for the head. The horns might get in my way, but I have a feeling my arrow will go through them.

He ignorantly sings.

I recognize the song.

“Amazing blaze, how sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me

I once was lost, but now am found

Was blind, but now I see

Was blaze that taught my heart to fear

And blaze, my fears relieved

How precious did that blaze appear

The hour I first believed

Through many dangers, toils and snares

We have already come

T'was blaze that brought us safe thus far

And blaze will lead us home

And blaze will lead us home.”

I almost back out. I fear I can’t do this at all.

“It’s an it! Not a he. It’s simply an animal.”

“You have to shoot the stag. And if you don’t...”

“Am I understood?”

My father, speaking to me clearly over time. And I am yet again a little girl.

“Amazing blaze, how sweet the sound

That saved a wretch like me

I once was lost, but now am found

Was blind, but now I see.”

I empty my head, my soul of everything. There is no point in crying.

“Was blind, but now I see”

I release the arrow. And the child falls asleep.

Looking at him spilling the blood, I don’t feel anything.

There’s nothing in me.

☽

Alastor’s POV:

All her hesitation made me even hungrier. Would she fail? Would she fall into my hands?

However, just as I wished so from the very beginning, she succeeded. She passed the second task.

Now, now, I would hate for this game to end up so soon!

Her turning around, I search for any weaknesses. A silly tear. A trembling breath.

But there’s nothing.

Afterall, all of this nonsense with innocence and second chances is just a pretense for her. Oh, how clever she is! Hiding her cold heart with constant talk about empathy. All demons would underestimate her intentions, and she would kill them if necessary.

Proof of it was just today.

However, I am intensively curious. How much she can handle? How much can I test that monstrous side of her until she’d break?

“Congratulations, darling!” I clap my hands. “Another fulfilled task with success!”

She simply stares at me with no emotion on her face. Not even her usual vexation.

I tilt my head to one side, waiting for her response.

“My question,” she speaks softly.

“Of course! Ask away!”

“Why do you kill?”

It doesn’t take me by surprise. After all, maybe that is what’s buzzing in that brain of hers, behind those empty eyes.

“I suppose you’ll expect an answer such as: I am bloodthirsty; I relish people suffering; it's my instinct. The truth is all of them. Yet, they’re empty, without another one. I kill those who are deserving of it.”

“Who are you to judge who’s deserving of it?” she narrows her eyes, the only clue of any emotion. “By your logic, everyone in Hell is deserving of it.”

Hmm...

I feel my smile stretch even wider as she waits for my answer, raising her eyebrows as motivation. My insides almost give in laughter.

“Well?” she predictably tuts.

“That was another question,” I point out, chuckling. “I’m afraid you’ll have to complete another of my tasks to find out the answer to it!”

I can almost hear her sinful thoughts cursing. But, other than that, there’s no other sign of anger.

“Good night, Alastor!” She vanishes.

The park is the same in her absence. Even the grass she walked on stands tall and healthy. I walk unhurriedly to the bleeding corpse of the imp child.

When I stand over it, I watch the blood pouring slowing down.

Such a young, healthy imp demon!

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Chapter 26: The New Acquaintance

“Kylie!” Charlie stands up to greet her. She doesn’t go to meet her.

“Charlie, love!” Kylie shakes her hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come any sooner! I had to deal with some... family troubles.”

“No worries!” she quickly says, in contrast with Vaggie’s frown. “I’m happy you’re back. All is well, I assume?”

“Absolutely!” she makes her way... towards me.

Right, I’m in her seat.

“And who’s this?” she asks, looking at everyone except me. “Actually, don’t tell me! Is it possible to redeem hellhounds now?”

I grit my teeth behind closed lips.

“This is Diana!” Charlie introduces me. “She came some days after you left. And she’s a sinner, just like you, Kylie.”

“Hello, Diana!” she smiles at me. She tries to pat my head like a dog, but I quickly dodge her hand. “You’re in my seat.”

“Right!” I stand up and offer her the seat. Only to keep standing up, because there’s no other chair.

“Oh, my!” Charlie realizes this a second too late. “I haven’t expected Kylie’s coming. Let me fetch one for you!”

With a snap of her fingers, a chair materializes next to me. I sit down, slightly uncomfortable by the change of Kylie’s presence instead of Angel’s.

“Great!” Charlie smiles at both of us. “Now we all are here!”

“Bring the food already!” Angel breaks in. “I’m starving!”

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor materializes food. I see that he got the time to use my wild boar.

“Amazing!” Niffty screams excitedly. “And the man of the house strikes again!”

She’s either too warm-hearted or too naive. I decide not to hold it against her.

“So, Kylie,” Alastor breaks the silence, “what kind of family troubles kept you so... busy.”

“Oh, just the usual bandits and beggars of the Imps,” She shakes her hand in the air like trying to get rid of an annoying mosquito. “They’re insupportable, only trying to get into our trash bins and house. We’ve reported them, but nothing has been done. We eventually had to dispose of them.”

“Oh, no, Kylie!” Charlie replies. “I hope you don’t mean...”

“Relax, Charlie!” she waves her hand. “We simply thought them a lesson.”

Charlie looks far from relaxed.

Kylie turns to me and asks: “How d’you die?”

Everyone is dead silent. The dying question can be quite sensible. Nobody asks it unless you’re close, you’re bargaining or you’re enslaved.

Nobody asked me this, not even Angel, who’s usually so open. But she’s something different. Something I have to be careful about.

“I fell,” I simply answer.

“That I know,” she snickers. “We all fell, didn't we?”

“Ok, then,” I breathe out. “I died from the imminent impact with earth after falling,” I scarcely say. I hear Angel’s snort.

“So, you stumbled or something?”

I grit my teeth behind my closed mouth. I really, really don’t like her.

“Sure.”

Better this way. She’ll quit asking questions and I won’t have to worry about coming out with a creative story.

“What a stupid way to die!” she moans.

There are no emotions visible on my face. Underneath it, though, a bright fire grows ever so wilder.

“How did you die?” I ask her in return.

“Ha!” she snorts. “Like I’m gonna tell ya!”

It makes me feel immensely stupid as if she tricked me. However, I decide on a different approach.

“Too shameful, then?” I wonder.

“Nah,” she waves her hand, but I can see her sickness. “More like it’s none of ya goddamn business.”

“Ok,” I turn to my plate. When I see it empty, I grab a piece of meat. I peek at Husk looking extremely pissed off.

Same, my friend. Same.

“So, how have things been lately?” Kylie asks no one in particular. “Besides the unexpected new visitor’s arrival.”

Visitor. Ha.

“Like usual,” Vaggie answers. “Maybe a little more peaceful.”

“Oh, Vaggie, how I missed your child humor!” Kylie laughs. “Oh, is that a tattoo I’m seeing?”

Vaggie makes a slight effort to cover it with her hair.

“So sweet!” Kylie’s voice jumps two octaves. “Is this how the girls’ night out went? Is that why Angel looks like a Hollywood actress?”

“Yeah, I do,” Angel agrees, pleased with her compliment. “Thank you!” his voice is ironic. Then, he looks accusatory to the demons sitting on the opposite side of the table: “Are ya blind or what?”

Husk gives an irritated growl, while Alastor only responds:

“Ah, fret not, my dear! Fear not the darkness, for my vision is clear, and I see reality with utmost lucidity!”

“Geez, Smiles,” Angel rolls his eyes. “Someone gimme a dictionary so I can understand what the fuck you just said!”

“Verily, a dictionary shan't mend your befuddled mind!” Alastor chuckles to himself.

“Is this the Happy Hotel or what?” Angel gestures with his lower hand. “What shoulda a guy do to get a little appreciation?”

I stare at Angel offended, but he has eyes only for the male demons. Husk, mostly.

“I say Ms. Angel looks fabulous!” Niffty jumps in, to Angel’s satisfaction. “Every day that goes, it is even harder for me to pick you up and add you to my personal spider collection!”

“Ya what??”

Niffty smiles hungrily at the arachnid demon. I fear she’s more sinister than I was left to believe.

“Niffty,” Ren sighs, “stop objectifying every demon you see.”

“I can’t help it!” she cheers up, her only eye shining. “It’s so fun!”

Ren sighs, while Kylie turns to me.

“Whatcha did, wolfie?”

I fantasize about biting her hand off. Instead, I ask her confused: “What?”

“Today,” she explains as if to an eight-year-old child. “Like, before my awesome arrival, of course!”

She analyzes me as if trying to spot anything that might be new. Or any imperfection.

“Guess.”

“How?” she rolls her eyes exasperated. “I’ve never seen ya before.”

“Then I guess... I’m sorry,” I shrug, stuffing a big piece of meat in my mouth.

I don’t care about her annoyed grumbling that follows my words. Nor the catching-up talk in which Kylie shines with self-importance. I eat in silence while occasionally glancing at the others, studying their postures. About half the table is completely uninterested, while the other plays pretend.

“Uhm, hello!” Kylie shouts all of a sudden in my ear. “I’m speakin’ to ya.”

I wasn’t listening, but I don’t want her to know it. Instead, I swallow lastly and bluntly say: “I know.”

“Al, darling!” she turns to the Radio Demon. “Haven’t you had the chance to teach her some manners? It seems she’s been here for a while.”

“Ah, I’m afraid I haven’t had the opportunity to teach her anything!”

I stare at Alastor sideways. Is he saying I haven’t learned anything from him? Or is he covering our deal?

“Pity,” she turns to me. “I recommend taking notes from this gentleman. You might be able to pick something useful, such as the clothing choice.”

“Hey!” Angel comes to my rescue. “I chose those for her.” Or maybe in his defense.

“What?” she asks marveled. “Isn’t she capable to choose fer herself?”

I inhale hard, eyeing a pea on my plate.

“Kylie!” Charlie warns her. “Please, could you stop criticizing Diana? It’s dinnertime.”

“Charlie, love, I’m only curious about the newest resident!”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Ren speaks up. Unfortunately.

“So, you mean to say that curiosity killed ya?” Kylie asks them. Then, she turns to Husk and gestures with her finger a line between the two: “Is that why you two are cats?”

“Missy,” Husk barely looks at her, “do not pry in everyone’s business and we’ll not pry in yours.”

Damn, Husk.

I continue to eat while the others engage in Kylie’s conversation. On occasions, she turns to me to belittle me even more, but I ignore her.

When we finish, I get up and leave the dining room as fast as I can without raising attention to myself. The less Kylie sees how much she has disturbed me, the better.

A hot shower should do the trick for my nerves.

I teleport outside my room, only to bump into something. Someone.

All my hopes dissipate when the Radio Demon smiles down at me.

“Oi!?” I ask him irked.

“Ho ho ho!” he looks at me predatory. “Your next task starts now!”

A/N: Hi, guys!

I just wanted to say how sorry I am for this 3-week delay. I had the biggest writer's block I've ever experienced and absolutely no inspiration.

I've realized that writing this story for me is more than trying to attend to each publishing date. For this reason, I'll say that these kinds of delays may be more frequent. I want to give you the best I've got, but I can't rush myself anymore. I am sorry for the lack of news on my part.

Thank you so much for your patience and support! It literally means the world to me!

Love,

~ ria

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Chapter 24: The Mistake

“Marvelous job! Ha ha ha!” Alastor claps in my ears.

I hardly hear him as I run to the Imp to check the pulse. He’s a cold statue, with terrified unmoving eyes. His throat is covered by a layer of ice.

“No... No no no!”

I try to break the ice with my bare hands, to scratch it with my claws, to melt it with my body heat. It’s useless. The Imp’s body is caged in my ice. The Imp’s soul left this world.

My efforts gradually decrease in speed, as does my mind. With no way of saving the Imp, I finally realize what happened. Anger fills me.

“ALASTOR!” I jump to my feet, seeing red in front of my eyes.

Seeing him so happy watching me try to save a dead demon is my breaking point. I immediately launch at him with my claws, only for him to disappear.

“Hahaha! I thought you’ve progressed at teleportation, my dear!” he calls me from behind.

I turn viciously only to see him snap his fingers and light a spark on the Imp’s corpse.

“WHY?” I scream and then teleport, only to stumble on the Imp’s corpse. Alastor vanished again. “I thought you were protecting him!” From me.

“Ah, yes,” he speaks from somewhere on my left. “I was!”

“You were burning his insides!” I stand up and face him, with the burning corpse between us. “You wanted me to use all of my power! You meant for this to happen!”

“There had to be one way to motivate you,” he sniggers, raising his staff to make the fire bigger. “It might be possible that I’ve underestimated you.” His words are in total contrast with the look of hunger on his face.

“Underes... Do you realize what you’ve done?” I yell.

“No no no, darling, this is all you! Ha ha ha!” he winks as if we both know the same joke. Then, he starts walking. “There is no using these powers if you don’t have any control over them! I hope this serves as a lesson! Now, let’s move on to the last issue for today!”

He turns to where I was, only to find the space empty. I teleported as far away as I could, which means outside the hotel. I start running on the streets, keeping my tears in check. I blindly follow the road I went on yesterday and arrive at the graveyard.

A lump in my throat threatens to make me spill my guts. Trees and gravestones whirl around me. Before I know it, I am embracing my knees on my mother’s tomb.

I wish she could reach me with her zombie arms and drag me underground. I wish I could hug her one more time. So many years have passed, and I still remember how it felt when she was around.

Would she be by my side, though? I killed an innocent. Even if he was a demon, he was born in Hell. He could have been someone good. Someone honest. Someone deserving of a life, even in Hell.

It’s not my first killing accident. I killed one man by mistake when I started living alone. There was one time when I was hunting in the French Alps when I heard someone calling for help and I ran to their aid. There was a man who was cliff-climbing, hanging on only one ice axe. The other one was lost. He was relieved to see me and threw a rope for me to tie it to a tree. I did it and gave the remaining part for him to climb. Only that I didn’t choose the right tree. It seemed strong, but it was rotten inside. And I watched the man falling and hitting the bottom with a horrible sound.

I stood there on my knees all evening, staring at the guy. He was alone. Nobody accompanied him. So I stayed with him.

That sound chaperoned me through the next few years. It followed me right until the end when the exact thump came from me.

I raise my head to my mother’s anagram name. I see that some leaves are covering some letters, so I snatch them. Not letters. Numbers.

The year she died. And the year of Extermination. The same one.

Those fucking Exterminators got rid of her so quickly?? When there are other demons whose death would make Hell a better place?

I clasp some earth in my hands. There’s no way I’m going to calm down now. I protect my mother’s gravestone and then I unleash myself.

☽

When I’m done, the graveyard doesn’t look like a bombed area anymore. It looks like an ice park. Besides my mother’s gravestone, there are no others left. Only pieces are buried in the earth and ice.

I look at my mother’s gravestone. The only one standing. And I realize I can’t leave it like this. It would only attract attention. So I start digging a hole and bury the stone.

I leave the graveyard empty-hearted. Go out hunting, again. It probably is dinner time, but I don’t want to face him yet. I stay in the woods and watch the red sky darken to almost a deep purple.

Squirrels, rabbits, deer, wild boars. How come I can kill these innocent creatures so easily and can’t face killing a demon? How come I am that weak-hearted?

There’s no way anyone would buy these at this late hour, so I bury them for tomorrow. I return to the hotel and then teleport to my room, avoiding everyone.

Five minutes later, I hear a knock on my door. I debate on pretending to be asleep, but it would raise unwanted questions, so I mumble a “Yes”.

Charlie opens the door hesitatingly with a plate.

“Hi, Diana! We’ve missed you at dinner!”

I discard her polite words and answer her honestly: “I... Wasn’t feeling well.”

“I’ve managed to save you a piece of pie,” she shows me the plate. It smells divine.

“Thank you, Charlie!” I smile. It feels hollow.

“Can I... Sit?” she gestures to my bed. I nod and she takes her seat, giving me the pie.

I start eating it slowly, despite my stomach’s hunger. It tastes divine.

“This is so...” I start mumbling before I stop myself. It’s not nice to speak with food in the mouth.

However, Charlie only laughs sweetly.

“I’m so happy you like it!” her smile is so true and lovely. So unlike Alastor’s.

“Whose recipe was this again?” I ask her curiously.

“My mother’s” she answers. “She used to experiment with so many ways to exploit apples in the kitchen.”

“Used to?” the words slip from my mouth. I silently curse myself, but Charlie only continues:

“I haven’t seen her in a while,” she confesses, looking at her hands on her lap. “Neither my dad. Since I started this whole project. They didn’t support me. Well, at least my dad. My mom...” she sighs. “I don’t know. I’ve been meaning to call her, but she’s always busy.”

“Busy with what?”

I feel her hesitation. Maybe this is when I’ve asked too much.

“There are some disturbing movements in power,” she finally says. She chose her words carefully. “My mother tries to keep the peace.”

Political arguments. Are these part of the reason the hotel was attacked?

“Did you enjoy your time today?” she suddenly asks me.

I stare at her confused. My time where? Did she find out about the ballroom? Or the graveyard?

“What do you...?” I start but she cuts in:

“At the pool.” I breathe relieved. “I was afraid the others would destroy it beyond repair, but I always underestimate Niffty’s powers!”

“It was amazing,” I admit. “I couldn’t have imagined such a peaceful place down here!”

“I know...” she sighs dreamily. “I should make more time to use it. It’s the best place to see shooting sinners.”

“Shooting what?” I ask her, confused.

“Shooting sinners. I think the equivalent to Earth is shooting stars,” she ponders. “They’re light streaks on the sky that fall wherever they might be attached to in Hell. They’re fun to watch and wish for something.”

I look at her quite amazed. I was a shooting sinner. I ended up in the blue forest. It makes so much more sense now.

“Wow...” I whisper.

“You know,” she turns her whole body to me. “If... If there’s something bothering you, something on your heart... You can tell me. If there’s anyone you want to talk to here...”

“Why do you say that?” I regard her carefully. It was so sudden of her to say that, it took me by surprise.

“It’s just... I totally understand if you might like the solitude. But, there’s this annoying thought of mine that you might... not like it here. I’ve noticed that you keep yourself away from the others. And I totally understand! This is new for you. And maybe Vaggie is not as welcoming as she should be. Or the others. But, just so you know, I am here if you need any help.”

She looks at me with pure honesty, encouraging me, but not in a demanding way. It is so rare to meet someone down here that seems to care about your well-being, mostly because no one is well here. Her whole persona intrigues me.

Sweet words are more dangerous than hidden knives. And she is the Princess of Hell. She has both.

But it doesn’t seem to be an act. She can be whatever she wants. She can be the bitchiest, most privileged girl in all of Hell. Yet, she might as well be Heaven's sent angel in disguise.

These situations confuse me in a displeasing way.

I choose to test her.

“Charlie,” I start speaking, not looking at her, “are there any... moments, when you made a big mistake? Like, a disastrous one. One that you can’t take back?”

“Of course there are!” she giggles sweetly. “I used to date a controlling prick during high school!”

“No, I mean...” I sigh, not finding my words. “A fatal one. Like... Killing someone.”

She regards me for a few seconds. I’ve made a mistake. Again. This is the moment she’ll kick me out. There’s no way she’ll keep me here when I killed someone.

“There are...” she starts speaking, “times when... I did some things. Some on purpose, some by mistake. Some which I regret and some which I don’t. I lived quite a long life, Diana. I look like a twenty-year-old girl, but I am decades of mistakes and ruined hopes. Maybe this hotel is one of them too. I don’t know.”

She locks her eyes with me intensively and continues in a confident voice: “What I know is that my mistakes don’t define me. My past, my role, they don’t define me. I define myself, if it makes sense. I choose what I want to do with my mistakes, my past, my role. And now, I choose to help sinners like yourself to be given a better (after)life.”

I look away, suddenly too shy. She gently grabs my chin and redirects it to her.

“I see you, Diana. The way you see me. I believe your place is not here. I don’t care what you did to fall here. What I care about is to see you fly from here.”

I can’t listen to her convincing words anymore. Not when I lied to her. Not when I made a deal with the Radio Demon. Not when I killed an innocent demon only to overpower him.

I nod mechanically and she releases me. She looks at me with endearing eyes, just like my mother used to. Funny how time and death can’t steal these memories of her.

I hope she doesn’t suffer. Wherever she may be. If she still exists.

She does exist, though. She exists in me. In my memories of her. I know what I have to do.

I have to survive. To keep her memory alive.

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Chapter 23: The Cold Manipulation

I’ve barely got to dry my hair when a shadow glows at my door.

“Time for...” it announces, but it’s cut short by my throwing knife.

I teleport at the reception, not having the energy to climb down the stairs. Alastor waits for me in front of the ballroom wall, looking at some frames on it. Frames with Charlie’s family.

“You do like her,” I speak up.

He turns to me with a confused smile.

“Like who, dear?”

“Charlie. Well, what’s there not to like?” I breathe lighter, thinking of her today.

“She’s a joyous spirit that Hell’s lucky to have,” he turns to the painting: Lucifer, Lilith, and little baby Charlie.

“So, you do appreciate good in demons?” I ask him curiously.

He makes the wall dissolve. The ballroom is semi-lighted.

“Let’s start a new day of lessons!” he boosts with energy.

“Alastor, hmm, it’s like six in the evening,” I step into the ballroom.

“Don’t worry, darling! Charlie’s still struggling with that delicious pie! We have plenty of time!”

He closes the ballroom wall. I notice that the air is warmer than it was last time. I don’t see why, though.

“So, ...” I speak up. “What ability are we focusing on today?”

“Hmm,” he stands straight in the center of the ballroom. “I think I’ll be chivalrous today and let you decide!”

“Oh, how kind of you” I mutter in pure sarcasm. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“My dear Diana, I am merely trying to lift your spirit up! After yesterday’s events, that is.”

His eyes are predatory. I frown at his reply. Does he imply that he knows what really happened on the stage? Or that it was clear how much I struggled to succeed?

I don’t take the bait, though. With more confidence than I feel, I declare: “I choose ice,” Ice, I think, is the best power so far.

“Splendid! My thoughts exactly! Great minds think alike!” he winks.

“How would you anticipate this?” I ask him incredulously.

“Haven’t you noticed, my dear? The room is getting warmer!”

Screw him! He has somehow predicted.

“How are you going to help me with ice? You know fire.”

“Exactly!” he winks again. He summons a ball of fire in his open hand and lets it burn. “They're opposite! Ice is frozen water, and water can be solid, liquid, or gas. Fire is the state of matter that water cannot be! Plasma. They contrast in structure, temperature, and action! Yet, they follow the same rules.”

These times when he speaks so logically, so excitedly... These are the times when I can see he was a human once and not born a devil. A witty man.

“What kind of rules?” I try to hide as much as I can my enthusiastic curiosity.

“Rules of summoning, shaping, manipulating...” he delightedly enumerates. He lets the fireball wander in a circle around our heads. He changes its sizes and temperatures in ways I can feel on my skin. I follow it with engaged eyes.

“So, you say I can use ice in the same way as you use fire?”

“The majority of the time, yes,” he answers and the fireball disappears. “You can use it as a weapon, as a shield, as a means ...” his eyes glow with evil, “... To freeze to death your enemies. Freeze their pumping heart, their coursing blood, their...”

“Alright! I get it!” I stop him.

“Yet,” he comes back to normal, “there are some things only ice can do. We’ll take my fire for example. Fire can burn things down. Ice can’t. However, it can do other things...”

“What things?” I wipe some sweat from my forehead. The room has the temperature of hot summers.

“I suppose we’ll have to find out,” he looks at me curiously.

Right, I’m a lab rat. At least, I am an experimental one and not one he tests pain on.

“Well, we’ll start with what we might have in common,” he winks.

We start comparing our powers. When he summons a fireball, I summon an ice ball. When he creates fire arrows, I create ice bullets. When he conjures a fire tornado, I manage to conjure a blizzard. The very act of me using my powers gives me immense relief towards the never-ending temperature rise.

We shape simple things, like shields and weapons. But there comes a time when he sees there’s no need for improvement on my part. At least, not on this.

“Shall we start with more... complex aspects?” he suggests thrilled.

“Such as...?”

“Lower the temperature in this room!”

I stare at him scalding, not getting why this is a difficult task in the first place. I already know how to initiate a blizzard. I start rotating my hands.

“Nah ah!” he stops me by grabbing my hands. I back off his touch. “Don’t cut off your nose to spite your face! Did you see how I’ve warmed the room?”

“Yeah...?” I weakly answer.

“Ha ha ha! The answer is no!” he smiles widely. “You didn’t! I want you to do the same!”

“So, in short words, you want me to cool the air without summoning anything?”

“That’s precisely what I want! Yes!” he nods animatedly.

I sigh and reflect on how to do it. The air is like a sauna. It’s pressing me from each side. Weirdly, Alastor, with his coat and everything, doesn’t show an ink of discomfort. I bet he relishes mine.

Focus!

The air. I don’t control the air! I can control ice. But Alastor doesn’t control the air either.

Then, how did he make that tornado yesterday? The one that ate me, Angel, and Cherry?

I think of air, and atmosphere on Earth. It isn’t that much different down here. It only has an unnatural smell of iron and closed space. In the city it is far worse, of course. But Hell’s atmosphere works similarly to the one on Earth. There are clouds, rain, and snow.

My thoughts wander when I was young and I excitedly read all the books in my father’s library about nature and science. I wanted to be a scientist. An explorer of world physics. I self-taught myself lots of unusual facts about my surroundings. And I know for a fact that air moves around Earth due to temperature changes.

The Sun gives the best heat at the Equator, so the warmest air collides with the cooler one at the Poles and results in wind. Alastor plays the Sun.

Yet, the majority of the Universe stays cold. It is predisposed to be cold. Only energy creates heat. Lack of energy... Means cold.

I know what to do.

I absorb the heat. While doing that, I cast a calming, almost unnoticeable, wind around Alastor. To isolate the source of heat.

My entire body starts sweating like crazy, but I keep on. I breathe hard while I watch Alastor humming a song and glancing around the room curiously. I don’t know if he notices the slow decrease in temperature.

After five minutes, he can’t pretend nothing’s changed anymore. I believe that now, the room temperature is as it’s supposed to be. It’s a relief for my almost wet body. Great! Now I have to take another shower!

“Fascinating!” he vibrates with delight. “Unorthodox, of course. There may be other ways to do it faster and... easier,” he pointedly glances at my moist clothes. “Nevertheless, such an intriguing tactic!”

“Thanks,” I smile.

His compliment, this time, hits differently. My success is based on my long-gone dream. I haven’t even hoped that I still have some of it in me.

“As fatigued you might be now, I’m afraid we’re not done yet,” he snickers, relishing my exhausted face. “We still have two more aspects we need to tackle!”

“What are those?” I exhale the words.

“Using your ice power on someone’s body and... other mystery powers that might emerge.”

“You want me to experiment my powers on your body?” I ask him incredulously. There’s no way this is true.

“As much as I’d relish you straining to accomplish something as close to a normal body temperature, I’m afraid my body’s not for testing.”

His eyes light up at the chosen words. I smirk as well when I recall I picked similar ones when I stood up to Valentino.

He snaps his fingers and, out of nowhere, a confused Imp stumbles on the floor.

“What the hell, Al??” I scream and jump back.

The Imp blinks baffled and regards the ballroom. When he glances at the Radio Demon, he backs out, sliding.

“Hel-” Alastor tries to greet him, but the Imp jumped to his feet. He’s desperately running towards a wall, “-lo!” he finishes.

“Who is that?” I try to get his focus.

“He is Zumo,” Alastor introduces the Imp who’s scratching the walls to climb them. “He lives in the Sloth Ring. I picked him willy-nilly.”

There’s no shame on his face. Only pure satisfaction.

“So, you just randomly grab Imps from the other side of Hell??” I cry out.

“For a good purpose, to be sure!” He then looks at the Imp. “Zumo, lad! Would you be so kind as to offer your help? We are in need of assistance.”

“Fuck you, Radio Demon!” he gives the middle finger, then he goes for the windows.

“You can’t let him break...” I warn Alastor. The next thing I know is that the Imp is right where he appeared, this time tied up, with his mouth gagged. “Hey!” I shout at the Deer Demon. “You can’t keep him hostage!”

“Ha ha ha! I am not, my dear!” he tilts his head. “I am merely confining him to a place for a limited amount of time until he completes his purpose!”

“That’s the fucking definition of holding hostage!” I raise my arms in exasperation.

“The sooner you learn, the sooner he’s free,” he points out.

I can’t fight Alastor on this. Not when the Imp is not in any real danger.

“What do you want me to do?” I sigh.

“I want you to freeze his skin!” he exclaims.

“What the... I’m not going to do that!”

“Don’t worry, little wolf!” he motions his gloved hand with flames. “I’ll keep him warm inside.”

I don’t trust him. But, if he sees me hesitate... I don’t know what he’ll do. Maybe he’ll purposely burn the Imp alive to get a reaction from me.

I mean to start slowly, with his hands, but I realize I don’t know how to do it.

“Uhm...” I stutter. “How...?”

“Do you need a clue?” his smile widens.

“I need a rationale,” I argue. “Give me another scientific explanation or whatever suits you.”

I try to sound uninterested, but I crave another scientific comparison of his.

“Hmm...” he wonders. “Should I be helpful or mysterious?”

“Helpful!” I pray.

“Mysterious it is!” he completely ignores me. He wanders around the ballroom, leaving the Imp to mumble in his gag. “You were supposed to cool this ballroom the same way I warmed it. Now, you have to find the key to this in order to understand how to do your next assignment.”

“Oh, come on!” I complain. “Do you really expect me to come up with this supposed key in the next few minutes? Without any other clue?”

“Do you want a clue?” he stops symmetrically from where he was, facing me.

“Yes!” I breathe exasperated. “Are you going to make me ask it again??”

“Hmm...” he makes a thinking face. He is so messing with me right now.

“Just... tell me.”

“If you say please!”

I stare at him. This is my price. For being so outward and desperate.

“Please.”

“One must fix their gaze,” he frees the words. “Akin to the art of teleportation. 'Tis a feat of concentration, a mere exercise of the mind. The greater the focus, the greater the possibilities that lie before thee.”

I turn to the Imp, who, in the meantime, has tried his best to get as far away from me as possible. I feel Alastor appearing behind me and we both watch the desperate demon struggling in his ropes.

“Tell me when you deem it suitable to begin” I hear his arrogant smirk in my ears. It almost makes me combust.

It doesn’t matter. I have to think of the long game.

“Now.”

He raises a hand on my right towards the Imp. His body on two of my sides feels like a cage around me. With my natural instinct to get free, it makes me almost forget what I have to do.

He’s supposed to help me achieve this... Or at least not get in my way.

I try to ignore him and focus on the Imp’s hand. With my head empty of thoughts, I let my eyes fix on a spot.

With teleportation, the idea is to appear in that place. This time, I have to control the place from afar.

I find it as impossible as I found teleportation six days ago. Yet, it’s possible.

The Imp’s hand. The Imp’s hand. The Imp’s hand.

Made of flesh, made of cells, made of atoms. Is that what this is? Is matter really a thing in Hell? We have bodies and all, but we have inexplicable powers as well. How can I control something I don’t understand?

Do atoms exist? Is this how Alastor controlled the air now? Why has he said my method was unusual?

I close my eyes.

It doesn’t matter. I have to believe they exist, or else I don’t know what I can freeze.

My focus plunges into my mind. The structure of the hand. The warmth it emanates.

I suddenly become aware of my surroundings at another level. I see everything without my open eyes. I can distinguish different objects and entities based on their temperature. Like a bat does with sound.

Alastor is a volcano about to erupt. And the Imp is the explosion.

He forces my hand to save the Imp!

I open my eyes. The Imp is trembling, not sure from being too hot or cold.

“Stop it!” I turn my face to Alastor. He looks at me intrigued, as if I’m at the bottom of a pit, unable to save myself, and he just stands there. “You’re going to boil him alive!”

“You’ll have to handle that on your own, dear,” he whispers unmovingly.

“I barely understand how it should be done!” my voice is slightly desperate.

“A good start indeed!”

There’s no reasoning with him. I face the Imp and close my eyes again. I have to match Alastor’s power. There’s no time for me to learn slowly. The Imp can die of fever.

I channel all of my energy into dropping the Imp’s skin temperature. After some seconds, though, I realize Alastor’s not toying with only his skin. He’s gone deeper. To the Imp’s organs.

This is just a game for him!

I have to save the Imp.

With all of my focus, my power penetrates through the Imp’s skin. To his heart, his heavy lungs. I start cooling them down. I breathe hard, as it takes immense energy from me.

After I assume that the Imp’s body’s gone to a normal temperature, I open my eyes.

Only to see the Imp frozen.

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Chapter 22: The Water

I need to know more. About everything.

I feel as insignificant as an ant in this world. I don’t understand how it goes, why it goes, why I ended up here and what’s my purpose. The only thing that keeps me moving forward is my goal of staying hidden for as long as I need to.

Fortunately for me, yesterday’s events didn’t highlight me in the eyes of Hell. Being so bad at acting and also camouflaged in that pastel attire, I doubt anyone would take notice of me, let alone link the nobody sinner who was stupid enough to threaten an Overlord and the sweet Ophelia.

Speaking of Ophelia, as soon as my acting services weren’t requested anymore, I sought out Alastor. It took me a while, as I began searching backstage when he was waiting outside the auditorium.

One look at him wasn’t enough to determine whether I passed or not. He’s always so happy and all; you can’t know for sure if he’s relishing something enjoyable or something monstrous. When I overcame my pride and asked him “How was it?”, his smile grew viciously, and said:

“I must say, I’ve never anticipated how much I’d enjoy such poor acting. And Mimzy seems quite satisfied with the play. So, well done!”

“Yeah, yeah,” I discarded his words. “So, is it done?”

I dreaded assuming the best of his words, but he simply nodded and confirms:

“Yes, my little wolf. Consider me entertained!”

“Ok,” I gritted my teeth. “Then, I can ask my question.”

He looked at me with no surprise: “Go ahead.”

I’ve thought about my questions so hard. What would be useful for me to know about him? What would be valuable to me as leverage, information, or anything else? But, seeing how I died so recently ... It left me with one query for him:

“How did you die?”

His smile stayed the same. No troubled eyes. No sign of surprise.

“I died while I was hiding some of my most recent victims,” he confessed. “I was burying them in a forest when some dogs smelled the blood. Before I knew it, the dogs’ master mistook me for a deer and shot me dead.”

Since then, I’ve pondered on his response. He said, victims. Plural. So, he was a serial killer. That explains his natural inclination towards violence. That explains his place here.

He also said he was mistaken for a deer. That also explains the deer's appearance. Somehow. Yet, I wasn’t killed by a wolf. I wish I was.

Then, the last thing, I guessed he was shot in the head. Where the X appears whenever he chooses to use the tentacles. It must have been quite annoying. To know you were dead by mistake. Yet, he left the Earth as a better place.

In my bed, I turn to my side and slide my hand on my back. I feel my scars, but I lift my fingers to where I know my X is. A little lower than the middle of my shoulder blades. I rarely get to see it, as it turns out to appear when I am bloodthirsty. For different demons, the X is different. For Vaggie, it appears to be part of her appearance. For Alastor is part of his powers. For me?

It’s part of my emotions.

Besides my tail, it’s the only other feature that betrays my appearance.

I get up and dress. Today is a hunting day. Regardless of any dangers out there.

☽

The two squirrels reserved for the hotel swing on my arm when I push the kitchen door. The wonderful smell of baking makes my stomach growl.

“No, Niffty,” Charlie stops her by grabbing her hand. “That’s not for cleaning! It’s a pie brush!”

“Oh!” she looks at it and marveled. “I thought it was a small broom! You know, for small places! Like behind a toilet! Or between...”

“Hi, Diana!” Charlie greets me. She helps me with the squirrels, as usual when she’s in the kitchen. “How was your day today?”

“It was productive!” I smile at her.

“Mine was too!” Nifty comes in. “I cleaned your room, Diana, and it took me only five minutes! You have a nice, organized room! It gives me pleasure cleaning your room!”

“Thank you, Nifty,” I smile at the little demoness.

I smell the faint odor of baking. I glance at Charlie and ask her: “What are you cooking today?”

“Oh, just my family’s traditional apple pie...” she grabs sugar from a cupboard. “I’ve cooked it before, but never here, for all of you to serve.”

“I’m sure it’ll taste great,” I encourage her.

Now that Charlie’s here...

“Hey, Charlie. Uhm, are there any, uhm, I don’t know, small lakes or ponds or something like that in the area?”

“To fish?” she asks, confused, glancing at my squirrels. “Or to...”

“Just swimming,” I put on an honest smile.

“Oh! Of course! Yeah, the hotel has a swimming pool!”

“Really?” I open my eyes wide.

“Yes! It's usually very crowded, but today Niffty closed it for cleaning.”

“Yes, indeedy!” Niffty nods enthusiastically. “I’ve just cleaned the pool! It’s spotless! The water is fresh, the...”

“Well done, Niffty!” Charlie pats her on her head. “Is there any chance Diana can use it?”

“Normally, I would tear anyone who messes with my perfectly neat work!” she stares at Charlie darkly. Then, she smiles cheerfully, and her whole vibe changes: “But Diana is very, very clean! Have I told you how much I enjoyed....?”

“I believe you did, Niffty,” Charlie interrupts her. “Can you show Diana the way?”

Niffty grabs my hand with sheer power and drives me through the dining room, where Vaggie reads a magazine, and then to the staircase.

Despite myself, I smirk smugly. I already knew the hotel had a pool due to my exploration. I know the way. Still, I let the crazy hotel housekeeper drag me like a puppet.

We climb up only one floor and then she opens a door at the end of the corridor.

“Have fun!” she wishes me.

“Wait! I...”

She left.

“Don’t have any... Swimwear....”

I turn around to see the big red enclosure with a big window that shows the sky. The window is the shape of an eye that reflects in the pool, which adopts the same red color.

“Alright then.”

I go to the changing rooms and undress myself of most of my clothes except underwear and the T-shirt.

I slowly dive into the warm water and let myself float. The red sky above my head is a beauty, but it doesn't compare to the Earth's night or blue sky.

Focus. There’s a reason why you’ve come here.

Maybe my death memory was triggered by water. In all my Hell’s months, I’ve fallen and fallen from trees with no flashbacks. So, by omission, it must be the water.

I inhale hard and then let myself sink. All around me is a foggy red. Nothing familiar. Nothing that could trigger some lost memories.

I’ve come here not to see, but to hear. I need to know what Cedric told me before he pushed me. He was at first happy to see me, or he pretended to be. Then, I might have said something that annoyed him, which is not surprising at all. Regardless, was it something truly that aggravating to kill me? The Cedric I knew was led by reason, not by emotions.

And that was one of the reasons why I ran away.

He was my family’s closest neighbor’s son. Our mansion was pretty isolated, but it had a nearby village. We didn’t interact much with it, as my father considered himself too rich or something like that. But there was a boy who passed by our mansion on his way to his shepherd duties. I used to watch him through my bedroom window.

He was very curious about our mansion, our family. So, one day, when I was fourteen years old, I was reading in the shadow of an apple tree when he whistled at me. I was shocked at first to see a stranger outside my father’s parties, so I walked to him. From that day, he came every week and we talked. I was so pleased to have a friend.

He told me things about the outside world. I told him things about my family. And, after a while, I fell in love with him. As it turned out, he fell in love with me too.

At sixteen years old, I would sneak him into the dark part of our garden and then got a little more confident and sneak him into the house. He was amazed by everything inside it, from the cutlery and old clock to the tapestry and carpets.

One day, my father caught us and he chased him away and punished me. It didn’t stop me from seeing him, and, as it happened, neither did he. He went over his head to prove his worth to my father. And he would always ignore his attempts.

Until one time. A week before I left forever, my father invited him to dinner. I stayed quiet while they would discuss things like old gentlemen. Then, my father required a private word with him. I couldn’t hear anything being said, but I know that was the moment everything changed. Because, five days later, I saw my boyfriend standing over a dead man.

“Now,” Cedric offered his hand to me, “we can be together. Forever.”

That night, I realized that my father corrupted him. That he sought I control not only my life but the others around me. That I hadn’t anything of mine, only his.

So, two nights later, I packed lightly and sneaked out.

The lack of air made me urgently seek the pool surface. No success. Nothing to tell me how he found me.

I sigh frustrated and splash some water.

☽

Vaggie's POV:

Nothing new in this magazine issue.

I sigh angrily at our tiny hotel ad. I specifically ordered at least half a page and paid twice! Now, the ad is eclipsed by the Fizzarolli and Friends one. As I read through it, the only thing that attracts my attention is Mimzy’s unusual choice of play yesterday.

I roll the magazine frustrated and start tapping it on the table. Maybe I can help Charlie in the kitchen. I saw Niffty leaving her with Diana.

But I don’t reach the kitchen door before Angel storms into the dining room.

“Where have you been?” I ask him, irritated.

“Geez...” he rolls his eyes, reaching for a banana in the fruit bowl. “I didn’t know I was under surveillance!”

“After your stupid tantrum in that stupid graveyard, I have every right to do so!”

“How d’you know about that?” he sighs, annoyed. “Gee, you know everything that crawls in here!”

“It was pretty hard to miss,” I grit my teeth. “It was like a fucking 4th of July fireworks display!”

“Give me a break!” he points the banana to me. “It wasn’t even that crazy! And it didn’t even last!”

“Yeah, right!” I snort. “As if I’ll believe you!”

“Believe whatcha want!” he rolls his eyes and goes for the door.

“I’m not done with you!” I shout at him.

“I’m done with you!” he walks out.

I follow him through the heavy doors. He aims for the bar. I walk in his way and stop him.

“Can you stop doing crazy shit?” I demand of him. “We’re already on the radar, as you may remember!”

“I am the one doing crazy shit?” he gestures with his hands, offended. “What about Sir Penny’s taking-the-world bullshit?? Or...”

“I don’t fucking care! You’re our first fucking patient! I’m not gonna let you keep sabotaging the hotel’s image just for your perverted desires!”

“Blowing useless tombstones is a perverted desire?” he pretends to think about it, and then he shrugs. “At least ya ain’t slut-shaming.”

“You’re grounded!” I yell.

He stares at me for a couple of seconds before he laughs heartily: “Again? Come on, I thought ya’d come with an original this time!”

“No more going outside!” I press on, ignoring him.

“Charlie asked me to do a photo shoot for the hotel,” he mentions.

I stay silent, trying to calm myself, before I say: “You help Charlie, and then no more going outside!”

“Are ya keepin’ me locked in?” he walks past me. “Am I in prison now? Is the hotel a prison now?”

“Until you learn how to behave like an adult instead of an ADHD sex maniac!”

“I don’t s’pose it’d be da same treatment for Elsa,” he turns around. “Ya actually like what she brings every day in da kitchen. And ya don’t like men.”

“This has nothing to do...” I start arguing, but then I understand: “Wait! Diana? Did you drag her into this??”

“I assure ya she came of her free will!” he sounds offended. “She even brought us to a fancy play later, even if it was kinda boring. At least my films have more action if you know what I mean...”

I ignore his implication.

“Do you mean that Diana acted in Mimzy’s play?”

“That’s what I told ya, yeah,” he shrugs.

“Since when is she an actress?” I ask him, unbelieving. I don’t know too much about her, which only unsettles me more, but I definitely know she’s not an attention seeker like the majority of losers here. “And why the fuck would she expose herself like this, when she’s being searched?”

“At least she disguised herself,” Angel reaches for the forgotten rolled magazine in my hand. He opens it and then he shows me the image there. There are some demons, but I don’t recognize any of them besides Mimzy.

“You sure you didn’t fuck up your vision with your stupid bomb obsession?”

“Fuck you, Vags! She’s the blonde one, you fucking clueless bitch!”

I growl at him and narrow my eyes at the picture. The only thing that the blonde character and Diana have in common is the wolf-like nose and the color of the skin. She hid her ears and tail.

It doesn’t explain why the fuck would she get on that stage in the first place.

“What the fuck is in that head of hers??” I mutter.

“I dunno,” Angel reaches for the bar counter. “I guess she’s got a hero complex, tryna help everyone she sees. Mimzy needed an actress, so Al brought her.”

“Why in Hell would Alastor bring her?”

“How would I know?! I’m not a vintage cannibalistic virgin!”

And with that, he rings the bell. In a matter of seconds, Husk appears, annoyed as always to see Angel.

I don’t have the energy to run in a loop with him anymore. Not when I’ve got more vexing issues.

It's weird. Not too long ago, Diana was a nobody and, seemingly, she liked it that way. Now, she attracts interest from all kinds of sinister demons: the Vees, and now Mimzy and Alastor! It won’t end up well for her.

Yet, the problem here is how much of her troubles will affect the hotel as a whole. I can’t let any sinner sabotage Charlie’s dream. And something tells me there’s something odd going on with that quiet sinner.

If I go to Charlie and express my concern, she won’t take it seriously enough. After all, I don’t have any proof of my own. And Charlie seems to really like her, for some unknown reason.

I need to keep an eye out for her. Find out more about her intentions. And, if she has malicious intents, stop her.

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Chapter 21: The Memory

“Yo, Ophelia! What's the deal, my girl?

Been waitin' here, my mind in a whirl.

Spill it, daughter, put my mind at ease,

A father's love, you know it won't freeze.”

I stare at the pig-looking demon in what's supposed to be elegant, ruined regal attire. I realize I’m on stage, with lots of eyes expecting my next line, but I completely broke.

“Don’t just stand there, daughter!

You might just look like an otter!”

My eyes search frantically for anyone, anything to save me. Besides the Polonius actor and the stage, everything is entirely black.

“I ... Do you doubt that?”

The first fucking line of fucking Ophelia.

The other demon looks at me perplexed for a split of a second before he chuckles. Some of the audience join him too.

“If I’d have doubted your humanity,

I’d hafta doubt your mother’s too!”

This is not at all the Hamlet I read. This is exactly what Mimzy said: a mix between Hell’s Hamlet and improvisation.

As I’ve come to this conclusion, I finally spot the screen with lines, somewhere behind the curtains on the opposite side of the stage. The best way I can read the lines and pretend to speak to the other characters.

All great and well, except... the part of acting out.

I narrow my eyes and clear my throat:

“D-daddy, sorry for makin' you wait sooo long,

Got lost in love, it - it all went wrong.

But here I am, uhm..., ready to spill the tea,

About what's been messin' with me.”

Yikes... That was awful.

I glance sideways at the completely silent audience. A lump in my throat threatens to make me spill all of my guts. I try to prevent my hands from constant trembling.

I hear someone approaching from behind and, when I turn around, I see another demon. I believe he’s playing my brother, Laertes.

“Oh, my darling sis with curls,

Always with the head in the clouds,

Love plights and all kinds of doubts,

Ever thinking of the great next fucks!”

I stand there, looking dumbly at the demon, forgetting everything. I’m wholly, utterly lost.

The actor who plays my father saves me once again:

“You dipshit, son of a witch,

Don’t just call ya sis a bitch!”

The change in words snaps me to reality. I almost burst out laughing, right there, either from stress or ridicule.

“Listen up, my children, I got some advice to share,

Laertes, you're off to France, so beware.

Ophelia, keep your heart locked, don't let it roam,

No time for love games, focus on your zone.”

Laertes pumps his chest in smugness:

“Dad, ease up, I know the drill, I'm well aware,

Off to France I go, a journey without a care.

But love is my prerogative, it's my own beat,

I'll find passion, adventure, make my life complete.”

And with that, Laertes evades.

Polonius turns to me and speaks:

“Ophelia, my girl, y’know I got your back,

Just tell me what's up, no need to hold back.

In this crazy world, I'm here to protect,

Speak your heart, we'll reconnect.”

“Da-ddy, eros led me down a crazy road,

Hamlet's arms, my ... cunt he once hold.

But his ardor turned to madness, a hot mess,

Left me needy, under duress.”

“Ophelia, my daughter, I warned you clear,

'Bout lust’s twisty paths, my dear.

Ardor can be a treacherous tide,

But we must navigate with strength by our side.

If Hamlet's passion has faltered, it's his own loss,

Find solace within, no matter the cost.”

“But, Daddy, my tits still yearn for his affection,

I'm torn between loyalty and self-protection.

Should I confront him, seek answers so unclear,

Or let him drift away, my core’s deepest fear?”

“My child, tread carefully in this fragile game,

Protect your virtue, don't let it burst into flame.

Observe his actions, listen to his words,

Time will reveal what's genuine or absurd.”

“I'll heed your counsel, Daddy, with a still-wet cunt,

To let go of craving is a painful art!

But in this chaos, I'll find strength anew,

And embrace the path that leads to what is true.”

After my last word, the curtains close torturously slow. I stand there, in my obedience pose, until I can’t see any light anymore.

☽

The rest of the play goes surprisingly better than I would have imagined. Ophelia doesn’t speak too much and she’s not in too many scenes. With each change of lines, I grow accustomed to her character, even if she’s way hornier than in the original play. I shy away, lower my head in subordination, and even blush a little (even if I have to pinch my cheeks in secret).

Who knew playing a totally different person than yourself could be manageable?

Sooner than I'd expected, Ophelia’s last scene means my last push of acting. I inhale calmingly while the succubi demonesses change my outfit into a white revealing dress. I don’t get why Ophelia’s body is so exposed right before her death, and I am utterly uncomfortable, but I manage to keep my mouth shut.

However, when Mimzy comes to see me (again), I barely hold my mass of questions when she declares: “Right, so, after ya last lines, ya hafta go at the back of the stage, where ya willow tree and pond will wait fer ya.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Everyone wants to see Ophelia kill herself,” she rolls her eyes, as if it was obvious. “So, ya’ll act fer the next scene as well, but in the background.”

Of course. What have I expected?

“Alright,” I sigh exhausted. “What do I have to do?”

“Ya’ll hafta climb the tree and hum like a crazy woman and then let yaself fall in the water. Ya’ll hafta stay underwater until the curtains close.”

“WHAT?” I scare the demonesses. “What the fuck am I supposed to do in the water?”

“Definitely not breathe,” she mentions. “It needs to look like ya died.”

“Let me rephrase,” I barely hold my anger. “You mean to tell me that I have to just stay like dead underwater for God knows how long?”

“Duh.” She looks annoyed, as if I’m the absurd one.

“How am I not going to end up dead anyway?” I try to reason with her.

“Ya’ll hafta choose ya moments right,” she shrugs, as if it was a simple answer. “But try to stay at least one minute, would ya? Some folks here like to see others more miserable than themselves.”

“So,” I conclude, pressing my fingers on my eyelids, “you mean to tell me that I have to fall at the right time, so that I stay one minute underwater? When will I know when’s the right time? I don’t even know the next scene!”

“Ah, ya’ll figure it out!” she gestures with her gloved palm.

Growling, I almost launch at her, but the other demonesses hold me by the strings of my corset in place. She walks away as if it's a sunny day.

Nice... My freedom doesn’t even matter anymore.

☽

Ophelia is all alone on the stage. This time, I speak to the audience as if nothing’s there. I listen with open ears to the succubi demoness who whispers my lines.

“Oh, the weight that presses upon my soul,

A tangled web of emotions takes its toll.

My mind, once clear, now drowned in despair,

As madness grips me, unaware.”

My eyes have adapted to the powerful light. I search the audience for familiar faces.

“Hamlet, my dear, where has your love gone?

What has transpired, what has gone wrong?

His words, once tender, now sharp as a knife,

A stranger's gaze, devoid of love or life.”

At last, I glimpse the all-red appearance of Alastor. I can’t figure out his facial expression, but I know he pays close attention to any of my slips.

“I am but a flower, with petals torn asunder,

Lost in the chaos, my soul left to wander.”

Next to him is Angel, recording the whole thing on his phone. I make a mental note to steal it.

“My father gone, my heart in disarray,

I'm adrift in a sea of shadows, led astray.”

Cherri is all smiley, laughing at something Angel has said. It almost makes me forget to listen to the next lines:

“Oh... uh... cruel fate, why have you dealt me this blow?

To strip away love, and let despair grow.

But I shall gather strength, rise from this fall,

Find a path where hope stands tall.”

Right then, I hear an unexpected sound and turn around. Behind me, the crew staff moved the willow tree and what’s supposed to be a pond, but it’s an aquarium. Right, so they can all see me drown.

I’ve missed the lines the demoness whispered, so she does it again. With false determination, I declare:

“For in this turmoil, I'll seek my own way,

Navigate the darkness, find the light of day.

Ophelia, once fragile, now resilient and strong,

I'll rewrite my story, where I truly belong.”

With no other words from the demoness, I realize this is my cue to retreat. Only that I don’t go behind the scenes. I climb the steps to the ground level of the pond.

In the meantime, the other characters enter the scene. I don’t spare them any glance and mind my own business, humming an unnamed song.

I look at the willow tree, which is much taller than it should be. The closest branch is three meters in height. However, it doesn’t look like it can hold my weight, so I aim for the next one... four meters in height.

I take my time, trying to stall as much as possible. I manage to climb the tree as gracefully as I can and reach the branch, still singing.

I spend a couple of minutes pretending to connect with the tree, caressing its trunk or praying, until my ears catch the sound of a voice meant for me. I glance behind the curtains, where Mimzy frantically gestures to me. She wants me to jump. Now.

I breathe long and look down. Only to freeze like a statue.

Only now I’ve realized how high I actually am. The water looks like a rock under me.

My claws dig in the branch. I can’t let myself deliberately fall. I just ... can’t.

Mimzy’s feverish gesticulation and irritated voice rival the hammering heart inside my chest. I breathe quickly, not seeming to catch enough air in my lungs.

I can’t. I can’t fall again.

But I have to. I have to fall, or I’ll ruin everything.

With slow, hard motions, I make myself position to jump.

“Not like that, you stupid cow!” I hear Mimzy. “You want to die! Let yaself fall on the back!”

And hit the water with my back? I might lose my senses for several minutes.

Does it matter how I fall, though?

So, I lean back and let go.

☽

Only when I don’t feel anything around me, do I see the night sky above me. Earth’s night sky.

And I didn’t fall from a tree. I fell from a cliff.

When I hit the end, I don’t feel any pain. Instead, something truly bizarre happens. I start floating, soaring toward the cliff’s edge, ever so slowly. Back to safety.

When my feet connect with the earth, a couple of hands touch my shoulders. As my body bends into a vertical position, the pressure in them increases. My head gradually turns to the one who seems to save me from plunging again to death.

When I finally recognize him, my face drops.

It's him! Cedric! My first love. The one who betrayed me; used me; manipulated me.

He withdraws his hands and starts mouthing things, but I can’t hear him. He’s at first mad, but then his green eyes soften. He smiles welcomingly. I don’t know what to make of any of this.

Then, he starts walking backward. Only that it is not the usual way. It’s ... mechanical.

I don’t get to see where he comes from, as my body turns around without my command. I stare at the forest below, all of it in shades of gray in the moonlight.

I look right below me. Similarly to how airwaves glitch, there’s the image of my broken body, shaking in clarity. Blood flows from me in a single narrow streak like a spring.

My body, once again, veers around without my permission, and I get to see Cedric again, now walking normally toward me. He smiles and talks warmly, until something on his face changes. He’s angry.

Then, he pushes me. And I fall again.

☽

I inhale hard as I reach the surface. I swallow two mouthfuls of water, but other than that, I’m fine. I swim to the edge of the aquarium and exit. Only when I am completely out of the water, do I realize where I am.

I pivot in dread, but there are only the red curtains. No actors on stage.

“Finally!” an impatient voice speaks from under me. “I thought we hafta move the whole thing with ya in it.”

Mimzy gestures to crew members to wait. I climb down the stairs, suddenly very aware of how cold it is outside.

“I gotta say, tho,” she keeps on. “That was the most believable acting of yours.”

I try to say a sarcastic Thank you, but I end up coughing water.

“Or was it acting?”

I stare at her, trembling.

“Right,” she fills the silence. “Bitches! Change her!”

Fortunately for me, my last appearances imply me being unmoving.

While the other actors move me in my coffin, I play over and over, behind my closed eyelids, what I’ve just remembered.

My ex-boyfriend killed me.

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Chapter 20: The Play

“What the fuck, Smiles?” Angel yells at Alastor. I look around and see the backstage staff working intensely like ants; trying to figure out my first task. “Why d’you bring us... Where the fuck are we?”

“Hasn’t Diana already told you?” Alastor raises an eyebrow. “We are going to watch a play!”

Angel and Cherri both look at me expectedly, but my mind is furiously focusing on one demon. I teleport to Alastor’s face and point a finger to his face.

“What is this?” I hiss at him.

“Unless you want Angel Cakes to know about our deal, you’ll play along. Get it? PLAY along!”

“I’m not in the mood!” I warn him.

“Pity, as you’ve got no choice!” he uses one finger to move away mine.

“Just tell me what this is!” I cross my hands.

“Uhm, hello?”

We both turn to Cherri, who took a few steps toward us.

“Hi, there! Cherri Bomb here. Quick q. What play are we watching? It’d better be some action or comedy!”

“Hahaha! That would be most fitting, indeed!” Alastor regards funnily the girl. “And quite possible.”

“Al,” Angel sighs tiredly. “Just... tell us. Why are we here?”

Alastor, however, only ignores Angel, as he turns around. I follow his gaze and see a demon approaching us. A vintage-looking short and chubby lady.

“My dear,” Alastor takes her hand and kisses the back of it. She visibly melts under his touch.

“Alastor~” she replies seductively.

I briefly recognize her voice, but I can’t place her anywhere.

“As promised, I’ve looked into your casting problem,” he winks, smiling charmingly.

She studies each one of us with an assessing look as if she tries to decide if we qualify for her own university. I stand there, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that lurks around me.

“I believe I’ve asked only for one,” she speaks to Alastor with a mix between confusion and flattery.

“And one I shall deliver,” he finally turns to us. With the air of an experienced presenter, he gestures towards the other sinner: “For who hasn’t had yet the pleasure of meeting her, this little sweetheart is Mimzy.”

“Fucking Betty Boop,” I hear Angel whisper somewhere on my left.

Alastor snaps once his fingers. I don’t understand why he’s done so, as nothing untoward has occurred until I hear Cherri’s gasp behind me. I turn slightly to see Angel mouthing things, with no sound escaping his lips.

“Hey!!” I begin to object, but Alastor instantly interrupts me:

“Mimzy is the director, as well as the female lead in today’s theater play, Hamlet!”

Hamlet? I read it a long time ago … I twist my brains to remember what the plot was about.

“I’ve tried to convince them to choose something less cliché, but today’s the day dear William Shakespeare fell in Hell,” Mimzy explains. “A long time ago, it seems …”

“Wait a second!” I tremble with sudden excitement. “Do you mean to say that Shakespeare’s in Hell? Like, right now??”

“Oh, no, sweetie!” she giggles and I deflate. “No, he’s long gone now! I believe he got erased in his first decade?” She looks at Alastor for confirmation, but he simply shrugs. “Anyhoo, he was a great man in life and in Hell!”

She gives a subtle look as if we both know a secret. Yet, all I’m thinking about is why, how, when, and why (again) did Shakespeare end up here. Who the hell chooses who falls in this infernal pit and who ascends to whatever Heaven is there? God? The weight of one’s soul? Randomness?

“What do you mean he was a great man in Hell …?” I start asking but Cherri cuts in:

“All this is less fun than I’d thought it’d be. Can we go back at …?”

“Blowing mortuary stones like some hyperkinetic children?” Alastor completes. “I’m afraid not, my dear! At least, not all three of you.”

Cherri glances at a very pissed-off Angel, but I get the feeling the Radio Demon is not set on the spider sinner.

“Fine,” I answer instead of Cherri. “What do you want?”

His toothy smile grows even more as if he already won some inexistent battle. He places his hands on Mimzy’s shoulders and pushes her in front of him like an exhibit.

“Mimzy here lacks an actress! Isn’t that so, Mimzy?”

“Damn right I do,” she crosses her arms, vexed. “That boob’s decided today to be cut in half by a gang of whatever! I don’t have anyone for Ophelia. And I ain’t playing two roles again! The last time I did, I had to literally split in half, much like Josie today … No good fer these bones …”

“Mimzy, dear!” Alastor disappears, only to appear behind me, with his hands on my shoulders in the same way. “May I introduce the humble, amazing new Ophelia?”

“WHAT?”

All of us shouted at the same time. Mimzy and Cherri with enthusiasm, Angel with silent confusion, and myself with utter shock.

“Yes, indeedy!” Alastor straightens his monocle. “We shall delight ourselves in the pure theatrical talents of this young missy!”

“I thought you meant improvisation as a metaphor!” I hiss at him, trying to escape his grasp.

“Oh, I know!” he whispers back. “That’s why your first task is that simple!”

“Simple?” I gawk at him.

“As you can see, dear,” he speaks louder for Mimzy to hear, “my good friend here Mimzy is in need of assistance, so I took it upon myself to offer your free unproductive time! I’m sure we all will relish this evening's play! After all, who doesn’t like comedic tragedies?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Al,” the vintage lady assesses me from head to toe. “I’m usually excited for tragicomedies, but she’s rather … How can I put it in words? Sad? Ugly? And what’s that hair, sweetie? It looks like shit! Ain’t hellhounds lookin’ all grey?”

My body tenses with raw anger, ready any second to launch at her and tear her apart much like Josie. Instead, I snarl: “I’m no fucking hellhound!” You fucking racist!

“Is that so?” she checks her nails with suddenly lost interest. “Anyhoo, Ophelia is graceful and beautiful. I’m sure as hell that Josie’s remains can still play her better than she would!”

For some inexplicable reason, I’m offended. Why the hell am I offended? It’s not like I have any acting experience. It’s not like I want to do this.

“I am positive your delightful minions can fix her up,” Alastor insists, pushing me towards Mimzy as if he can bond us with physical proximity. “Regardless of her looks, she might be the only one here who has read Hamlet!”

I turn to him with the big question in my eyes: How would you know?

He shrugs as if saying: Just a hunch.

“And …” he resumes, “you said the play starts in half an hour! No time to waste!”

“Half a what??” I breathe hard.

“As always, Al darling, you’re right,” she butters him up. “I s’pose I can dye her hair and cover her face in loads of makeup … hmm, I think that’ll do! BITCHES!”

A bunch of succumbus demonesses appear behind her.

“Fetch!”

They make haste towards us, first surrounding Angel and Cherri, leaving them spotless, with no trace of today’s adventure. Then, they ambush me.

I try to run, teleport, anything, but they grabbed me tightly and, in a matter of seconds, they transport me like some package behind the stage.

When they release me, I only get to see my wild self through a big mirror for a moment before they whirl around me with a bunch of brushes. My eyes can’t focus and I constantly sneeze.

“What the fu... Don’t touch that!”

“Sorry!” A devilish succumbus demoness tried to touch my bushy tail. “It’s so pretty!”

“Don’t touch me!” I fight all of them off me. “I can dress up myself! Give me those!”

They offer me the most ridiculous dress I’ve ever seen. The combination of lime green and royal purple physically hurts my eyes.

“Who chose this ... blasphemy?”

But I already know who.

Five minutes later, Mimzy, in a different attire, comes to examine my appearance.

“Hmm … Not bad at all,” she touches my now blonde hair. “Maybe tighten more the corset?”

As on queue, someone from behind me makes me almost throw up.

“Enough!” I shake those hands off of me. Then, I look at Mimzy with barely held anger: “I don’t know what Alastor told you, but I don’t know any lines!”

“Aww, sweetie!” she laughs, and the other succumbus join her. “Ya better not! We don’t play that kind of Hamlet!”

“What do you mean? Are there any other kinds of Hamlet??”

“Let’s say this is a Hell version of Hamlet!” she giggles. “As long as you know what happens, you’ll be fiiine!”

That’s the thing, though. I don’t know what will happen!

“’Sides,” she adds, “the lines are there. More as a suggestion. Look at it as an improvisation!”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m screwed.

The rest of my remaining time, I read a Hamlet summary on my phone and try to memorize (more like a swallow) Ophelia’s lines. To no use, to be honest. My brain is blank.

The next hours decide the outcome of my first task. If I fail … It’s not just pure embarrassment anymore. Even if that alone makes me cower away. I haven’t been on a stage since I was a child at my father’s fancy parties, playing the piano or the violin for his fancy guests. Even then, I knew what to do. I was prepared.

Now, my freedom is at stake.

Calm yourself!

I inhale hard and look between a gap in the curtains at the crowd. Because of the spotlights, I can’t recognize any demon. Everything is in the dark beside the stage.

Focus!

Yes. Ophelia. She’s the daughter of the chief counselor of the king. The one the protagonist is rumored to be in love with. I’ll just have to pretend a desirable innocent quiet lady from Medieval times. How hard can it be?

Sooner than I would have wanted to, the third scene of the first act calls me onto the stage. With the air of a woman sentenced to death, I walk into the light.

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Chapter 18: The Book

Charlie's POV:

After a long day of dealing with hotel stuff, I collapsed exhausted on my bed.

Even with its new success, I haven’t made any meaningful progress in redeeming any of the residents, even though sinners keep coming to take advantage of the hotel’s hospitality.

This doesn’t mean I’m ungrateful for everything I’ve accomplished. I am so hopeful and confident I’m on the right path, even with all these new obstacles coming my way. After all, this whole journey is worth it if it means a serious change for the better for my people.

Yet, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m in a constant loop, stagnating.

I hear my bedroom’s door being opened and I raise my head to see Vaggie coming in.

“Hey, babe,” she walks to me and sits by my side. “I brought you something.”

I glance at her hand in which she spins a candy apple.

“Aww!!” I stand and hug her. “You didn’t have to!”

“I’ve figured you deserved it after such a dreadful day,” she smiles, giving me the apple.

I take a bite and then offer her as well. It tastes incredibly sweet.

“Thanks,” I lean my head on her shoulder. I feel hers resting on top of mine.

We stay like this for a few quiet seconds, enjoying each other’s presence, until Vaggie speaks up: “Charlie, do you … Do you have any news from your father?”

I bite my lip, slightly frustrated.

“No…” I stand straight. The apple in my hands whirls like an optical illusion. I sigh and resume: “I’ve been trying to reach him… Reach them. You know my mom’s usually busy with her job, but lately … I dunno. There are all these rumors that he’s been missing.”

“Lucifer missing? Tough luck,” Vaggie snorts. Then, as if she remembered she was talking to me, she quickly adds: “I mean … it’s a good thing they’re rumors, right?”

“That’s the thing. They might not be only rumors …” I voice the possible truth. “I haven’t heard a word from them since the battle! It’s like my father suddenly disappeared. I mean, it’s a good thing he’s not sending anyone to attack the hotel anymore, but I am worried, you know?”

“Charlie,” Vaggie cups my cheek. “He’s the King of Hell. I am sure that whatever he’s doing, he’s alright. I might be even more worried about us.”

“Us? Why?”

“We have triumphed. We have humiliated the King of Hell. I don’t mean to be insensible, but there’s a really good chance that he’s secretly plotting the next attack.”

“Vaggie! I know when my father is upset! But this is not the case. I mean, he’s probably pretty furious with me, but he wouldn’t disappear for no reason, without a word.”

I let myself fall on my back, staring at the ceiling. Now, all I worry about is why the hell has my father disappeared. It’s not like him. Even when he was disappointed in me, or mad at me, he still was there, trying to remind me why I’d failed. My mother would come between us and calm the waters, but now I know everything is different. I don’t feel him constantly watching me anymore. I don’t know if I should be glad or worried.

“I’m sorry,” Vaggie falls next to me. “I know he’s your father, but don’t forget he’s the king as well. I genuinely don’t think he’s in any danger. Well,” she smirks, starting to tickle me, “besides the obvious threat his daughter clearly poses!”

“Vaggie!” I try to stop her, but only laughter comes from my mouth. She takes it as an encouragement and gets on top of me, still tormenting me.

“All hail for the Princess of Hell!” she whispers in some unknown royal’s voice. “She shall be the one who saves us all! She shall be the new Queen of Hell!”

“Vaggie! You’re not making any sense!” I giggle, breathless.

“And I,” she leans down and kisses my neck, “shall be her dutiful mistress.”

She trails a path of kisses up my throat, on my jaw, and my cheeks. My body trembles with anticipation until her breath hovers over my lips. I suddenly am very still.

She smells like the sweet apple she ate.

“Charlie Magne,” her lips touch mine.

☽

Diana's POV:

For the next few days, I’ve been practicing my speed reading and teleportation. Even if Alastor said I should master the reading first, I thought it might be useful for me to do them both, alternating. Maybe the association would help me understand both of them.

I needed to restart Divine Comedy again, as I forgot some meaningful details. I wanted to have some peace, but there seemed to be no place in the hotel where there were no other demons other than my bedroom.

On the first two days, I struggled to read the way I’m supposed to. After a while, I kept giving up and tried teleporting the way Alastor suggested. But, when I thought of one point to appear without imagining my world of bubbles, it was like I wanted to send lasers from my eyes. I stared at the same point for several minutes before giving up again.

In the next two days, I made little to no progress. I kept giving up and walking in circles frustrated, only to try again and again and fail again and again. My bedroom’s walls seemed to narrow around me like a cage. I avoided dinners, always saying I’m not feeling well, and then sneaking into the kitchen to steal some food. I began to seriously question my sanity.

So, today, I’ve decided I don’t give a fuck about the Vees. I need to get the fuck out of here.

I try to turn myself invisible and walk toward my forest, but I can’t control my invisibility. So, I teleport myself the way I used to, always checking for any possible threats. In about 20 minutes, I arrive at my favorite place in all of Hell.

I climb up the tree and resume reading where I left off. Only my mind isn’t at all focused. All the frustration I felt in the past four days presses on and I am more and more impatient.

He forgot to tell me how exactly I should read. He just stood there puffing and ridiculing me!

Focus!

This is all a big game for him. I stress over and over and he only gets to delight in all of this!

Arghh!

The simple thought of Alastor makes me throw the book away.

Only that the book is precious to me. I see it in slow motion flying in an arc and I jump from the tree, knowing I’m not gonna make it in time to catch it.

I still try to run to the spot where it’s about to hit the ground. Maybe, if I jump like a soccer gatekeeper, I’ll make it?

But, before I do anything else, my surroundings change like two pictures in a video and I suddenly feel like throwing up. Two seconds later, something hits me hard in the head and, when I look up, I see the book bouncing from my head.

I lounge to it and fall on my back, the book in my arms. I breathe hard and look at the red sky, before turning to one side and puking.

“What the fuck?” I wipe my mouth.

I stand up, the book safely in my arms, and look at the path from that tree to me. There’s a line where there’s lying grass, where I landed. And then there’s a big gap from there to where I stand. Meaning...

“Oh, my God!” I shout. “I... Did it? I DID IT!”

I start jumping and dancing in a ridiculous dance. The book is secured at my chest and, with new energy and enthusiasm, I climb up the same tree and try again.

☽

Day and night in Hell are different with only a slight change of light. I don’t notice when it’s time for dinner. Only when a faraway crow startles me so much that I fall from the tree, do I realize how late it is.

“Ouch...” I massage my butt and stand up. Looking at the direction of the hotel, I focus. But nothing happens.

Beginner’s luck? I hear Alastor’s laugh in my head.

Shut up!

I start walking and then running. Maybe that's what triggers it. But still nothing.

Focus on what you’ve done so far!

I read a lot of the book. More than I should have. What did I learn from it?

Don’t think too much about the words. Don’t... Overthink.

That’s it, isn’t it? Overthinking. The reason why I stay up all night thinking of numerous ways I failed myself and everyone else around me. The reason why I can’t be as brave, as powerful, or as confident as I want to be.

Don’t overthink overthinking!

I empty my head, imagine it as a plain gray wall, and then focus on a point in front of me. I let the rest of the world fade as the backgrounds change again. This time, though, I am on my feet. And feel a little bit less nasty.

I grin like a child and try again and again. I travel short distances, but I’m still faster than I would have been on my feet. I can’t exceed the time it took me with my old way of teleporting yet. I was teleporting longer distances.

Don’t worry. There's the next day too!

I reach the hotel, still teleporting. In my enthusiasm, I forget to be discreet about my powers and end up materializing in the dining room, in front of everyone.

Only the ones that know about my teleporting power (Alastor, Charlie (somehow), and Angel) look at me normally. The rest of them, though, react in different funny ways. Ren spills his soup, Husk spits his beer, Nifty jumps scared and Vaggie curses in Spanish “Maldito inferno!”.

“Language!” I warn her all smiley, taking my seat at the table, next to Angel.

Angel chuckles despite himself being still mad at me and Nifty with Husk recover quickly enough to join him too.

“Oh, my Satan! So, you’ll start showing up just like Alastor from now on?” Vaggie asks with a mix of desperation and exasperation.

“Sorry, Vaggie,” I giggle a little too. “I couldn’t help myself.”

I glance at Alastor despite myself with cheery eyes. His eyes dance with laughter and... Could it be? Pride?

No. Not yet.

Despite Vaggie’s frowns, dinner goes the way it usually does. I am overjoyed to eat something cooked at last. Charlie seems to be relieved that I’m feeling better. Angel constantly pisses off Vaggie or Husk.

When we finish, I grab my book and retreat to the couch in the welcoming area. It seems everyone is away, even Husk, so I am lucky enough to enjoy the silence.

Well … at least for five minutes …

I look up at the Radio Demon who eyes the book in my hands pompously.

“Still training, my dear?”

“Just enjoying a great book,” my eyes turn to the book.

“Would you mind if I join you?” he asks me.

I glance at him surprised. He leans over me curiously as if my next answer will reveal some precious truth about the universe. My first thought is to start overthinking of ways he’s going to use this time against me. Yet, if I’ve learned something today, that is to take some breaks from overthinking.

“Sure,” I make him space. He sits down and summons a book. I try to read the title, but he’s on my left, and the cover is not visible.

“What are you reading?” my curiosity gets the best of me.

“Right now?” he looks at the cover (for showing off, I gather). “The art of war”.

“Fitting, I suppose."

“The same can be said about yours too,” he smiles knowingly.

For the rest of the evening, we read quietly. Alastor’s mic started at some point emanating sweet jazz music and I couldn’t help but smile. After all, he said music helped with reading.

However, after a couple of hours, the music started to get in my way of staying awake to read. I don’t remember when, how, or if I dropped the book, but I know I fell asleep.

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Chapter 17: The Teleportation

After four days of utter boredom, I wake up, still tired.

Because of the threat of the Vees, I couldn’t risk going out to hunt, or anywhere for the matter. I glance worriedly at my money box, knowing that this quarantine will only slow me down and make me even more dependent on the hotel.

With this lack of activity, I got to explore more of the hotel. Shockingly, there are more residents of the hotel than I was left to believe. I didn’t bump into that sinner Angel was talking to that day, but I spotted a short eccentric lady who kept rambling to Ren about her old acting days. Being my usual reserved self, I managed to escape before she’d see me too.

Dinners were as usual. Only the seven of us, occasionally joined by Ren next to me. I was to shy to ask why the other residents wouldn’t join us, but I made up my mind that it might not be compulsory to attend dinners as I was left to believe.

Speaking of dinners, it was the only time I got to see Angel. He’s still giving me the cold shoulder. Well, I suppose he is... I don’t know what to make out of his lack of interaction. Maybe he got tired of befriending me or something.

Vaggie wasn’t far away either. Ever since the argument, she threw all kinds of skeptical glances towards me and I just had to pretend I didn’t notice. Charlie didn't help much either, since she might not have thought it a big deal.

Which left me with dear Husk and Niffty. Now, Husk has been a great bartender in the last few days, always giving me the best choice of drink. Somehow, this guy only looks at me once and knows what I need.

As for Niffty, her excited temper has raised my mood scarcely, but sufficient enough to not lose my mind between these walls. She even invited me to take down some bugs in the library. A perfect occasion to study the books the hotel has and to shoot ice arrows at the poor creatures. Ren would occasionally join me in exploring the books, mostly to avoid the others.

And Alastor... After the deal we struck, there’s been silence from the Overlord. No call. No challenge. Nothing. Not even during dinnertime.

For some inexplicable reason, I’ve been fantasizing that the deal was a dream and that I wasn’t stupid enough to dare a Hell Overlord to test my resistance. But, oh, how wrong I’ve been...

I sink back into my bed, and look up at the ceiling, only to see a shadow. A black, solid shadow, above me.

“First lesson starts today!” it sings.

I slap it as hard as I can on the cheek, but it only evaporates. I’m glad I was covered up, but fury already starts to take over me.

Is there no fucking privacy in this hotel??

Calm down. He’s making this on purpose.

I dress up in my gym pants and black top and tie my hair. I don’t know what I’m about to face today, but I have to wear something that allows movement.

I look back in the almost empty closet, where my new clothes already need tending or washing. Or throwing away. Especially the one T-shirt with two bloody holes.

I look down and touch where my wounds were. They still answer with faded discomfort, but they mostly healed enough that I can walk normally, maybe even run.

Let’s test that theory.

I warm up by climbing down the stairs three steps at a time. I need to be prepared body and soul for what’s going to happen.

I reach the ground floor and immediately see him in the middle of the hallway. The light from the doors’ mosaic windows cast a shadow behind him, but, contrary to physics laws, it moves as if it wants to be released.

It looks at me and smiles its red grin before Alastor turns to me, copying it with a yellow smile.

“Good morning, Diana dear!” he waves a hand. “How was your sleep?”

“It was,” I bluntly answer him.

“Fantastic!” his energy tires me already. “Let’s go then!”

“Where?”

“Behind you!”

I turn around and see the ending wall of the hallway. On the right is the dining room, on the left is the staircase. No door in the middle, though.

“Where?” I ask him again, irritated.

He snaps his finger and the entire wall in front of me dissolves in the air. Two curtains fall, and then mold themselves around a window, leaving an entrance to a dark room. With no other questions raised, I go inside.

My curiosity is soon satisfied as my eyes adapt to the darkness. It’s a big ballroom! With so many beautiful ornaments. Candelabras of crystal and mirrors as tall as the room. On either side of it, there are curtains which, based on the smell, are made of satin.

“Wow...” the word escapes my mouth.

I hear another snap of fingers and the curtains of the windows give way to light. It blinds me for several seconds. When my eyes adapt again, I see something truly magnificent. The windows give a white-blue light. Not red, like Hell's sky. It paints the room in colors red, gold, and white.

“How?” I turn to Alastor and then point to the windows. I have no words for the way it makes me feel, to see something so ... familiar.

“Hmm. A little trick sweet Charlie tried,” he smiles pleasantly. “She fancies humans, so each time she gets a chance, she experiments with what it’s like to be one.”

I reckon I’m not the only one fascinated by Charlie’s experiment. Alastor looks around as if he truly relishes getting the chance to use the room.

Now that I think of it, I wonder...

“Did you tell Charlie you’re using this space?”

“And reveal our little deal? Ha ha, no.” He snaps his fingers and the entrance wall suddenly materializes again, leaving the two of us alone in the ballroom. I immediately regret ever going inside it and throw glances at all the windows as a means of escaping.

“Shall we start?” his head leans on one side like a curious child.

“Yeah...”

“So, what powers do you think you possess?” he asks me with wild curiosity.

Oh no. It’s time.

“Uhm... So, there is the ice thing, teleportation, invisibility and... I don’t know what it is, but I sometimes glance in a world in black and white in order to see... Shadows.”

If he’s understood that he’s the shadow I’m referring to, he gives no clue.

“So curious!” he nods. “So, so curious! Well, this obviously means four full sessions for four powers. And it seems there’s a bit of investigating as well, which makes it even more exciting!”

“And after the fifth task, it is done,” I cut him off. I feel like I need to remind him that I’m not his subject or experiment.

“Aww! Trying so soon to get rid of me?” he appears a foot away with puppy eyes and touches my chin. I pull back from him.

“It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you,” I snort.

“Shall we start with teleportation?” he suggests giddy. “As you are already somewhat experienced with that.”

“Barely.” I think of the time I appeared inside that hellhound guard. It still gives me chills.

For the next quarter hour, he asks me to teleport to places he chooses and I do it every time. After a while, I seem to perceive the world around me only through the bubbles.

“Hmm...” he does after I last teleport. “I see where the problem might be.”

“Is there a problem to begin with?” I ask him with a mix of confusion and dignity.

“Indeed, there is! Now, may you tell me how you see it when you teleport?”

I hesitate. Everything he asks and I give an answer to is a way for him to gather knowledge about me. I know that, and he knows it too. Why else would he grin wider at my reluctance?

“I see a world of bubbles,” I scarcely confess. “I choose one to appear by walking in it.”

“Quite original, indeedy!” he nods excitedly. “However, the problem with that is that it takes valuable time. And I presume you can’t jump too far.”

I cross my arms. His presumption is true. Still, it’s the only way I can teleport. How else am I supposed to walk in a place?

“How do you do it, then?” I ask him back.

“All in good time, dear! Now, do you read?”

“What?”

He totally takes me by surprise.

“Couldn’t you hear me, dear?” he smiles and then looks at his microphone accusingly. “Are you having trouble again?”

“Not at all, sir!” the microphone’s eye opens big.

“What does reading have to do with teleporting?” I redirect his attention.

“Do you, though?” he presses the question with an annoying grin.

“Of course, I read!” I roll my eyes.

“When you read, do you hear your voice in your head echoing the words on the page?” he smiles dreamily.

“Yeah...” I agree. “It’s the way you read a book, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes and no,” he half-answers and starts walking. “You see, do you know of those people who can read a page diagonally? Or finish a book in a couple of hours? They were called geniuses back in my time. However, they simply discovered a secret about words.”

He stops to regard me. Watch my reaction as he puts his finger at his mouth: “The secret is to not think of the words!”

I stare at him, trying to understand what he’s meaning. Not thinking about the words? Then how are they registered by the mind? How can I understand what the book is about if I can’t use its words?

“Haha, I see you’re quite taken aback,” he smirks. “Let’s get back to the concept of reading, shall we? The inner voice you hear in your head when you read is called subvocalization. It helps you understand the words you’re reading. People who train their speed reading try to minimize subvocalization. Some listen to music and hear the musical notes instead of the words. Others train their eye movement to include more words. Unfortunately, you can’t get rid of subvocalization, but you can double the reading speed.”

I... I...

“It’s the same with teleporting! You imagine your bubbles and choose them. It's your way to understand it. However, it is not necessary. Instead of looking at each bubble and figuring out where they might send you, you simply focus on your destination. This way you’d reduce the time and energy. It might even be instantaneous.”

Speechless. That’s how I am. His words, his theory... They’re remarkable! I can’t deny it. I am fascinated by the comparison.

Yet, I am unnerved by it as well. It’s easy for him to say it. But in practice? I’d need to relearn something I know so well now. Give up instincts rooted deep down. How am I going to even start that?

“Quite a difficult concept to comprehend, indeed,” he takes my silence as a confused pause.

“No, it’s not,” I argue. “It’s just... I don’t know where to start,” I confess shamefully.

“Of course, you don’t!” he laughs. “That’s why I’m here! Hahaha! Now, is there any book you’re currently reading? Or in your book list?”

“Divine Comedy,” I immediately answer. The truth is that I missed reading it, not knowing what was about to happen. One of my sorrows in ashes. And when I looked for it in the library... No success.

He snaps his fingers and a book appears and falls in his hands. He looks at its cover intrigued before sending it to me through a portal. I catch it and look at it as well. It has a black leather cover with golden calligraphy: Dante Alighieri, “Divine Comedy”.

My hands caress the book for a second before I look up at Alastor. I’ve caught his focused and giddy eyes before he smiles with his teeth and says: “If you master speed reading, you’ll be ready not only to learn how to appear and disappear properly, but to create portals or even spatial warp objects or demons. Of course, this implies a lot of exercise, as well as a great focus and...” he gestures with his staff an arch, almost resembling a rainbow, “Imagination!”

Suddenly, the book in my hands represents even more than a reality escapade. Who could have imagined? That reading, indirectly, will teach me how to use my powers.

“Unfortunately for today, there can’t be any more action!” I look up surprised at Alastor, who made his staff disappear. “Phase-jumping for you is more of a mental block rather than a physical one. You’ll have to train your brain, then your body.”

“That’s it for today?” I ask him incredulously. Twenty minutes have barely passed.

“Oh, I’m confused. Now you do want my company?” he raises one eyebrow delighted.

I hold my words in check and only nod at him. Fine, if that’s how this is going to be.

With the book dearly held to my chest, I walk to the exit, only to find it closed.

“May I be excused?” I ask him for permission ironically.

“Of course!” he snaps his fingers. The wall dissolves again.

“Thank you,” I say, not sure if it’s genuine or not.

Only when the wall closes behind me, I realize I forgot something. I forgot to ask him about when my first task is.

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Chapter 16: The Letter

I wake up with less pain, but the same mixed feelings as yesterday.

My mother used to say to listen to my instincts when something is unclear. And, as far as I can tell, my instincts tell me to run and start a life somewhere else.

The only reason why I haven’t left yet is I was trying to make sure that this is the best decision. I’m still not sure, but not doing anything is still a choice.

So, for the rest of the day, I’ve been plotting my departure. I can’t be too obvious and I need to somehow send Charlie a message to ask her not to look for me. It’ll have to be convincing enough.

A letter! That will do.

Another aspect to consider is where I’m going to stay. Unfortunately, the Radio Demon knows about my forest and the remaining of my house. I can’t go back there for the time being. If there’ll be a search party for me for some reason, that area would be the first one to inspect.

I hate that I’ll have to abandon it. I am not even sure for how long. Some years might be necessary for every demon that interacted with me in the past few days to forget about me. Which means I have to find a new home.

I search on my hellphone for the Pride Ring map. It seems there are some mountains somewhere in the southwest of Pentagram City, quite far from the awful city. I could lay low there for a couple of months.

It doesn’t sound ideal, a life of a nomad, but for the past eleven years, I’ve lived like this. When I escaped home, I had to travel around Europe to erase the trace of the girl I was. I had to change identities, homes, countries, and languages.

It wasn’t the worst life, having the chance to explore so many cultures. It was free, independent, and fulfilling. It’s true that it was lonely as well, and sometimes I had mental breakdowns, not seeing any reason to live anymore if there was no one to remember me.

That was until I met Fleur. With her life somehow bloomed. We were strangers, me a huntress, and she the daughter of the chef I used to sell my venison to. The circumstance brought us together as friends, and then the best of friends, something I’ve lacked my entire life. I don’t know when or where I realized that what I felt wasn’t for a best friend, not having any experience in friendships, but one time she kissed me and... I liked kissing her back.

The worst part of her incredible memory is that I don’t remember the last time I saw her. We were still together when I died, I know that for sure. But I remember almost nothing about my death. Was she in our cottage? Was she waiting for me to arrive home? Did she find me dead under the night sky?

It doesn’t matter, I tell myself. She lived and I didn’t. I can’t reach her. And, if she...

No. She didn’t die. But if she did... She’d be in Heaven one hundred per cent.

I look out the window, where the Pentagram Star shines above the horrible black buildings. I hope she is well, wherever she is.

I finish packing my few possessions and teleport downstairs. I checked if there was anyone there before I appeared in the hallway. With the letter for Charlie in my hands, I walk towards the bar. But, before I let it sit on the counter, I hear someone opening the big entrance doors.

I don’t have time to react as I turn around and see Angel and... another sinner, coming in and talking. I prepare on explaining my letter and backpack, but they don’t seem to see me. I look down and see... Nothing.

I’m invisible.

“It’s chaos out there!” Angel rolls his eyes. “No one wants to fuck anymore, all so worried as shit!”

“Who isn’t worried in Hell?” the other sinner mutters.

“For this exact reason there are drugs,” Angel points out, grabbing a cigarette from one pocket of his suit.

Angel lied to me. Why?

“You think it’s best to smoke here?” the other one glances around, his eyes passing through me. “I don’t think you want Vaggie to see you...”

“Fuck Vaggie!” he inhales from his cigarette. “In da last few days, I only hear her scream at me.”

“So, you want her to scream even more at you?”

“I don’t fucking care!”

“Angel, if you need to talk...”

“Damn straight I wanna talk,” the spider cuts in. “This gets outta hand already. It’s enough that I have to avoid him, but now I have to literally detour the entire City because of his lackeys. And they’re not even looking fer me!”

“They are looking for the sinner who involved you in the heist,” the other sinner points out. A shadow of guilt on Angel’s face quickly disappears. “If they see you, it’ll be double reward for him.”

“So what? Ya, tell me to just sit here fer the rest of my (after)life?”

“I tell you to wait,” the stranger grabs Angel by his shoulders, making the spider stay still. “It’ll pass. Now, it’s dangerous out there. The Vees are searching every corner of Pentagram City. Hell, of the entire Pride Ring! Except the hotel. It’s safe here.”

“Don’t tell me what’s safe and what’s not,” Angel shoves his hands. “I get that speech millions of times from Charlie already.”

“Then maybe you should listen!” the sinner pushes Angel lightly. “We’re just looking out for ya!”

“I don’t need anyone looking out fer me!” Angel hisses. “I’m fine!”

“Are you, tho?” the other eyes him, knowingly.

“Fuck you!” Angel drops his cigarette on the floor before stepping on it, and then he bolts to the staircase.

The unknown demon stays silent for a few seconds, looking tiredly at where Angel has disappeared, and then they go the same way.

There are so many questions whirling in my head: who is that demon? Are they another hotel resident? Why haven’t I met them already? What are them to Angel?

Then, I replay everything they’ve said: the Vees are looking for the sinner responsible for the heist. Jane, the Wild One, who hunts for a living. I bet they’re not searching only the industrial areas with the information I’ve provided... more like the wild ones.

How far can they search for me? And for how long?

And they don’t search the hotel? It’s one of the most obvious choices, due to Alastor’s association with me. But maybe they’re... scared? Was their defeat that awful?

I realize that it might not be as safe to walk the streets of Hell or stroll in my woods as before... And it wasn’t safe then either. What if I’m caught? This time, Valentino wouldn’t underestimate me. And he clearly is more powerful than me.

But I can’t hide here forever!

I look around at the hotel. The letter in my hands feels like warming up. Why do I reevaluate my decision? I thought I have agreed on leaving!

You are running away... Again... It’s the best thing you can do.

Not true.

Right. The best thing you can do is hide. Not much of an alternative...

What do you want me to do? Fight? I’m helpless. I know almost nothing about my powers or how to use them. I’m like a child with a gun. Pathetic.

This is Hell. Its inhabitants would not hesitate to torture me, kill me, or hand me to the ones who search for me. Make my (after)life a living hell.

But Hell doesn’t mean only sinners. Hell has other demons, who were born here and can choose to be good. Like Charlie.

Can I trust Charlie?

I look at my letter. I know (for some reason) that my words written there would sadden the Princess. Something in me thinks I can trust her. Should I trust my gut?

It saved me so many times before. Why refuse to listen to it now?

I turn myself visible and rip the letter into tens of pieces.

☽

Alastor POV:

After my late evening podcast, I decided I wanted to stall my arriving at dinner. It was Vagatha’s turn to cook and, judging by the soft smell, she made a disgustingly sweet meal.

This won’t do.

I’ve been leaning on the rail of the last-floor balcony for a couple of minutes now, watching the Pentagram City roar its usual pained song. Reminiscing the days, I used to play that sound, louder and so much more beautiful.

Somewhere out there is my worst enemy, still healing his wounds we’ve caused him. Or nursing his pest boyfriend who has been taken down so easily by a mere naive sinner.

The thought only brings me immense joy. Humming a random melody, I ponder on what he might do next. We already know it was Lucifer who sent them, despite the fact that their goals align ever so perfectly. However, ever since then, there is no word from the King of Hell.

All the better. I so relish surprises.

My contemplation is joyfully interrupted by Diana’s materialization.

It took her only one day. This should be fun.

I don’t make any move to acknowledge her presence. I’ll let her break the silence. Something she despises.

“I…” Diana begins to say, then she clears her throat, “I have been thinking about your offer. And I’m still not accepting it.”

I prevent a burst of laughter from surfacing. This little darling is most amusing!

“Not under the terms you’ve mentioned,” she adds. I can literally hear her words being ripped out from her throat.

“Oh?” I turn around and lean my back on the rail. She is standing straight like a statue. The way she faces a threat.

Of course, the thought only makes my smile grow.

“There are four powers I know of,” she admits bitterly. “You’d guide me through each of them and, in return, I’d do a task for you. Not a favor. A task. For each session.”

I cock an eyebrow as I watch her trying to emanate control. She’s somehow a combination between both Charlotte and Vagatha. Control obsessed and stubborn, yet intuitive and hope delusional. Of course, nothing truly special about her, as I’ve met a dozen Dianas both alive and dead. Regardless, it’s an uncommon and entertaining combination.

“Neither of these tasks can be me offering my soul or (after)life to you. This deal will not be longer than it’s supposed to be,” she finishes with her black and blue eyes set on mine. Daring me.

Alright then. I’ll play your game.

“And what if you fail to do one of these tasks?” I lean my head curiously.

“I can assure you that won’t happen,” she smiles devilishly.

“Ho ho ho,” I chuckle, delighted. “I’m going to need more than that!”

I truly enjoy this game.

“What?” she provokes. “Do you suppose I’m not a woman of my word?”

“Oh, no, dear,” I finally stop laughing, still grinning. “I am sure your intentions are to keep your word. However, I don’t believe you’d survive to keep that promise.”

“You underestimate me,” she smiles smugly. “I would do whatever task you would assign me to. That is, if you accept my offer.”

Ooh, now this is her offer? Let’s change that …

“If you’d fail to achieve one of these tasks, it’d mean you’d be in my debt,” I walk to her. “I believe you know what this implies.”

I reach her ears and whisper ever so quietly: “Your soul will belong to me.”

I’ve glimpsed her ears shudder almost unnoticeable. I take two steps back to regard her, but other than that, I don’t see any signs of surprise. She is good.

“Fine,” she agrees. “Oh, and there’s one more aspect to tackle.”

Oh, yes. She shall never cease to surprise me.

“The fact that you’ll know about my powers,” she resumes. “It is important to you. Why else you wouldn’t tell Charlie I have them in the first place? Information is power. So, if I am to give up on it, you’ll have to give up on some too.”

She grins, watching me with whole focus.

“After your tasks, I shall ask you a question of my choosing,” she continues. “As unpredictable as your tasks. To be fair. And you’ll have to answer it honestly. And not a simple yes or no,” she quickly adds. “That... Would be cheating … Detailed answers. Satisfying answers.”

I study her, looking for any signs of weakness, besides the fact that she returned to me. She truly wants to be more powerful, but this isn’t her endgame. There is something else, something I shall find out if I take the deal.

Yet, I don’t particularly appreciate the way she thinks she can pull the strings. She’s a mere sinner, toying with a Hell Overlord. She should know her place. She should know that being a hotel resident doesn’t protect her from Hell’s wrath... Or my own.

She will learn in time. And, oh, how I’m going to enjoy myself in the meantime...

“Alright, then,” I agree. I grin when I notice her unintentionally surprised eyes. “You may ask one question, after every task you successfully complete. That is to say if you survive all five of them!”

“Oh, I will!” she says before registering my words. Then, with a look of confusion, she asks: “Wait. Why five? I told you I know of four powers. Is this a ploy to get a bonus task??”

“That would be a bonus task, with a bonus question!” I wink. “Consider the last session as a summary! See if you learned something. Maybe combine your powers together. See if there emerges any new power. You never know!”

Before she contradicts me, I quickly say: “Besides... Four? Such an ugly number! Even numbers are for the dead!”

I see my remark has surprised her so much, she forgot to argue. I can literally see the wheels turn in her brain, before she agrees: “Fine. Five sessions, five tasks, five questions. But then, it is done.”

“One way or the other.”

I wait for her to cower away, to be frightened, but the only thing she does is walk to me and say: “We’ll see what you’re made of, Radio Demon.”

“So...” I smile widely, as I once again summon the green pact, “It’s a deal, then?”

This time, she looks at me instead of my palm. With her eyes fierce, she grabs my hand. Her grip is as strong as mine, even when the green fire burns our clutched palms.

Something about this deal feels a little bit different. I don’t feel her soul in my control like I used to. Instead, there’s only a replica. A counterpart for when she’ll fail.

And she will fail.

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A/N: Hello, guys!

I'm sorry for my big delay! Final exams and everything tend to occupy your time more than usual ...

I'm working hard to get back on track!

Thank you so much for your support!

~ ria

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