When his death took you from him, it was only fair for your death brought him back to you. Through life, through death, you would always be by each others side.
~~~
All respective characters belong to Vivziepop!
The first night consisted of nothing more than just enough sleep. When the evening turned to night, all the hotel inhabitants returned to their rooms. Besides a few steps scurrying within the walls, the hotel was deathly silent, all inhabitants winding down from the day.
While your room was nearly identical to your old one, it was still a weird feeling, especially with the view contrasting so much. When you pulled the curtains closed, saying goodnight to Pentagram City's chaotic nightly rituals, you finally noticed just how peaceful it was at the top of this hill. Clouds soon drifted by, hours passing until dawn broke, and the screams began once again. Star no longer scattered the sky, a muddy fog sweeping through high-rise buildings in the distance.
You were one of the very first to wake up, Niffty beating you to it without effort. She was fussing from left to right in the kitchen as you slowly found your way down. "Good morning, Niffty, dear,"
You found your way from the main dining room and into the loud kitchen. "Morning, Y/n!" The little Cyclops demon jumps onto the kitchen counter and stabs a bug right through the heart. "Sorry, I'm just cleaning up!"
"Oh, did you cook?" You walk over, tying your robe closer to your body as an early morning draft runs through the hotel.
"Nope!" She slides past you, catching sight of a cobweb under the table.
You tilt your head, unable to comprehend whatever that conversation was. "Guess I'll cook," peering into the walk-in, it looked as if college students had run a muck. It was barren, with takeout containers sprawled about, forgotten with time. It wasn't unsalvageable, holding enough ingredients for everyone to be left somewhat well-fed.
Prepping all you would need for a simple breakfast, you conjure an apron to go over your pyjamas and a radio to keep you company. At this exact moment, a slight static started to churn from the speakers, a louder version emitting from the sky. With a quick shriek of the record needle, two taps were heard before a voice followed, "Good morning, sinners!" Alastor's voice reaches every corner of Hell, his broadcast casting a red glow above the city.
From the morning weather to the less than cheery news of a recent massacre in Cannibal town, Alastor covered the usual array of things he would on earth. The transition into more gruesome topics compared to his regular praise of upcoming jazz musicians was a natural turn to suit Hell's forecast.
After cracking a few eggs into a pan, you sit back and turn the volume up.
You walk down the street towards the radio station Alastor worked at. His broadcast usually came to a wrap within the next half hour. It aligned perfectly with your work schedule, leaving just enough time for you to venture through Maine Street as rush hour comes to an end.
Alastor had invited you to his studio for the very first time after you expressed interest in how broadcasts worked. "Hello? I'm here to see Alastor?"
A woman with cat eyes and glasses slowly looks up, narrowing her eyes. "He's in the middle of a broadcast, so run along; he doesn't have time for fangirls," she goes back to her paperwork, dismissing you without hesitation.
"But he's expecting me-"
"That's what they all say," she hums, waving her hand at you, "and I'm sure you're not like any of them other gals out there, doll, but he just doesn't have time for this nonsense,"
You frown, looking down the hall at the red light blaring bright. "Right... thank you," you adjust your bag strap and exit the station, looking around for a bench to pass the time on.
Spotting a small bench outside a post office, you make your way over. The cold wood chilled your skin as you wrapped your coat closer to your body that autumn evening.
You tilt your head down, "oh, hi, Alastor," you mutter gently to yourself. "Have a good day?" The question lingered. "A bump here and there," you look to the radio station, then to the pavement, "but otherwise, it was splendid... and you?"
The pitiful exchange with no one left a frown plastered to your face. Sighing softly, you didn't let it get to you ultimately. In fact, you took this as a granted moment to catch up on reading, a task you put off for too long.
Cars rolled by, puddles splashing every so often, and water just missing you by an inch. The busy streets were nothing odd to New Orleans; with Jazz blasting from the rooftops in the town square and people dancing the night away, it became an odd sense of peace.
By the half-hour mark, you look to the station, whose lights have now started to shut down. You take your book, marking the right page before tucking it into your purse as a figure emerges. Alastor frantically looked around the street, sighing in relief when he saw you. "Y/n! What are you doing out here, my dear?"
"The receptionist told me you were busy," you shrug, "not too big of a deal,"
"She should have let you into my studio regardless. Did you tell her I was expecting you?" He watches you nod and straightens his posture.
"She thought I was another crazed fan of yours; I'm sure she meant well," you dismiss, catching sight of the receptionist leaving. A split second of eye contact was shared before a pale look passed over her face.
"I understand," he shoots a glance over his shoulder, spotting Mary-Anne hurrying across the street. "I'll make sure you get through with no trouble next time," his hand rests on your back, urging you down the street with him. "How about a drink, hm?"
"A drink sounds lovely," you move closer to him, "so... how was your day?"
You turn back to the stove and quickly tend to the eggs, taking a deep breath when you narrowly avoid burning them. Scrambling a few and placing them on a clean plate, a few eyes caught your attention from the corner of the room. Your eyes widen, jaw-dropping as the pair of eyes turns out to be Pentious' eggs. "Whatcha making?" one asks, trying to jump on the counter.
Quickly pulling him off the counter, you mouth moved faster than your thoughts. "Egg poison." you blurt out, only realising it made the situation much worse, "Wait-" but it is too late as they start to shake with fear and runoff. You end up smacking your forehead, "I'll deal with that later..."
"Morning, Y/n," a yawning, sleepy Charlie turns the corner, "are you making breakfast?" her eyes seem to brighten, undivided attention given.
"Mhm, eggs, bacon, toast, and maybe a few chocolate chip pancakes," you hold your hand out and do your best to summon a bag of chocolate chips. With a bit of struggle, a half-eaten bag appeared, "whoops! I never really was the best at food magic,"
She chuckles a little, summoning a full one for you, "that's alright," Charlie snatches a few chips, "oh, and do you know why Pentious' eggs are hiding under the couch?"
Your eyes widen, "Uhm, no, no clue whatsoever, sunshine!"
~~~
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OH IM SO EXCITED ABT YOU READING THE REST OF THIS BOOK
