We're Live Folks

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I do not know how to write torture scenes so I apologize if it doesn't look good, as well as the fact that this is a small chapter, I just wanted to focus on this a little. WARNING! mentions of torture and blood


Alastor didn't run after the hunter, he had been on many nightly strolls in these woods to know which way the house was. He had every intention of stretching this chase out as much as possible.

You can take a knife out of the murderer's hand, but you can't take the urge out of one.

He allowed himself to pull out his microphone, twirling it in his hand like a baton as he took long strides in the direction he saw the human go. His smile stretched into a carefree shape like he had all those years ago.

This was a feeling that was familiar. This feeling. He felt free. Sure he could do whatever he wanted in hell, to be his true self. But there was something about being back on earth, with woods surrounding him. It felt different.

He felt at home. But that wasn't all he felt.

He felt anger, disgust that this puny little hunter hurt what was right fully HIS, you were his entertainment, HIS toy, HIS property, and finally, HIS charge.

He had no intention of letting this filthy piece of meat make it out of this alive. First he would have his fun, then he would have a lovely interview with him, and then, he was signing off.


The hunter ran as fast as his legs would let him. The air might feel less heavy now, but it still held that suffocating sensation from when he had been bound up. His lungs were now reaching their limit and the trees seemed to get thicker the longer he ran for.

Just what the hell was that beast? That creature? This should have been a simple task, he was a poacher for f*cks sake, he goes where he hears potential and then he gets the job done, kills whatever it is, and then goes home rich.

This was by no means a simple job, this wasn't even a job. What was he supposed to do with a creature that could summon spirits of the dead and make the entire area suffocate around him? Call the Ghostbusters? F*ck that.

"Oh my, what a striving start we just had, a bit of clumsiness over the roots but he's certainly got the legs for it"

Yeah no sh*t, these roots did not look natural in the darkness.

"OOH, THAT'S GOT TO HURT! WHAT A TUMBLE!" cries of laughter swirled around him "now then, let's release the hounds"

Strange noises swarmed around the place. Was he being followed by beasts? They most certainly didn't sound like hounds.

Then he felt something sharp slice his leg. He felt it buckle at the sudden pain, but judging by how he was able to pick himself back into a run, he believed it was only a light scratch.

His relief was short-lived when he felt something poking him on every part of his legs. And boy did it hurt like a b*tch. Scratch that, it felt like someone was stinging him, but these woods didn't have nettles.

He didn't bother to look down because he knew that was the last thing he needed. And with the grey-looking sky showing what little light was left, he didn't have time for it, especially when he had a freaking demon on his back.

"YE-OW!" he shouted when he felt something bite the back of his neck.

He blindly reached behind him to grab whatever it was, but he felt nothing, only air. What the hell bit him?

No, don't look back, that always happens in horror movies. You need to find the exit NOW!

That was easier said than done when he had spent more time in the trees in the morning than he had a night. He was better than this.

"And now we come to the grand finale! It's a real trip down memory lane!"

The man screamed as he felt the world dip around him, landing in something hard and, moving? What the hell?

"It's a real pinch to get those out"

More poking but in his arms and hands this time, and he was having a hard time trying to figure out what it was exactly that was holding him in place. But it was so hard to focus on how cold it was.

"I hope you all enjoyed that marvelous introduction because now we must move on to the interview, it's going to be a blast"

The hunter cried out in shock as something exploded next to him. It sounded like dynamite, but those were illegal here, or were they just restricted?

"So my good sir, let's start with the basics, mother always said it was best to start at the beginning after all" the creature chuckles darkly "who are you?"

The hunter tried to open his mouth to say any insult that came to mind, but his body would let him, it was beginning to sink in the amount of pain he was in as all that came out was a groan and a small whine.

He received a sharp stab in his leg for his troubles.

"Now that isn't a nice way to introduce yourself to everyone" he scolded lightly "I would prefer not to rip your tongue out if I have to, so let's try this again. What is your name?"

The hunter weakly whispered his name, the creature seemed to hear it as he threw his arms out in a dramatic fashion.

"What an excellent name, very fitting for a hunter such as yourself, I'm a hunter too as a matter of fact, granted I'm more into the venison kind, but that doesn't mean I don't, indulge in other forms every now and again"

What the hell did that mean?

"However, there is one major difference that we have" the air began to get colder and more suffocating "I don't hunt the weak, or those that can't fight back"

He didn't say anything other than to shiver at the sudden drop in temperature, or was it getting hotter?

"Now then" was this guy Bipolar? "let's cut down to brass tacks, I already know you're a hunter, and your gun is evidence of that, but why were you hunting out here when there isn't anything fulfilling for someone of your caliber?"

Something pierced his shoulder causing him to scream.

"It's obvious by the state of your clothing that you weren't here to hunt animals, if that were the case, you would have left long ago, and the few crows you shot would have certainly stopped you from any potential game you could have gotten after those night fiascos"

He didn't have time to react when he felt a stick pierce the side of his thigh, not hitting an artery but it still hurt like a b*tch.

"No, no, no" the creature lightly scolded as it shook his head in a joyful way "you weren't here for a simple hunt of game, no, you're here for something else, which brings me to my next question, what were you hunting for specifically?"

"F*ck you. Freak" the hunter wheezed before using what little energy he had left to spit at the creature.

He didn't see the smile twitch before stretching even further, or the shadow that crawled up its owner's body to glare at him menacingly with the promise of a life time of, hehe, hell.

"Wrong answer, rotten m34t" he took a step forward "now, let's try this again"


Screams filled the air that night, the other demons didn't bother to look in the direction as they knew there was no stopping the Radio Demon once he set his eyes on something.

Nor did they question, or ask, what Alastor did to the body when he came back to the house drenched in blood with the most relaxing smile they had ever seen on his face. As if all the pent-up anger had been washed away from a night at the gym.

They would probably ask more about it later because right now they were more focused on the fragile form lying in bed. You.

Nobody saw the bubbling black tar ripple from under your bed before it settled into the shadows.

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