Remote Access (Alastor x Vox)

Chapter 3 ;)

Vox slowly began to stir awake, waking to the sound of his own pained groans. He was caught in a dream-like haze, senses dulled by a persistent migraine. His screen, flickered erratically as he struggled to open his eyes. Gradually, his blurred and monochrome vision began to bleed back into color, though a persistent hiss of white noise still clouded his mind.

Vox took in his surroundings and found he was in a room with walls painted a deep red, accented with stripes of a lighter crimson. It was a color scheme that he himself found excessively garish, accompanied by a peculiar assortment of items on the walls and shelves.

Curios, oddities, and animal bones were arranged in a way that seemed both haphazard and deliberate. The air was thick with the smell of old books and dust, a scent that carried with it an undercurrent of something more sinister – the sweet, cloying stench of rot and decay, emanating from an unseen source.

Despite the glitches still plaguing his system, Vox mustered the strength to sit up. It was then he realized the extent of his predicament – he was tied up, confined on the floor.

This discovery, however, wasn't enough to make him cower in fear. If anything, it was more of a cliche nuisance than anything else, the ropes stretching the fabric of his fine suit. After all, he could just zap his way out in half a second, no problem.

Drawing a deep, steadying breath, he attempted to turn himself into electricity, but the moment he tried, his body seized up, sending him into a fit of pain-riddled glitches. Double over in pain for a moment, Vox sensed he wasn't alone, and despite his predicament, managed to conjure up a toothy grin, an attempt to shroud his unease with a facade of confidence.

"R-r-r-really? The old 'tie-up-and-stand-in-the-darkness' r-routine? How f-F-f-fucking original," Vox sneered, his voice laced with sarcasm despite the flickering glitches. "I've got to h-h-hand it to you, kidnapping the CEO of Vox Tek-K-k? Bold move, but not the b-brightest. Clearly, you don't know who the FuCK you're d-dealing with, or you wouldn't have j-j-just made the st-st-st-st-stupidest f-fFucking decision of your m-MM-iserable life!!"

Vox's declaration initially echoed into silence, but it was soon pierced by a ripple of ill-contained laughter emanating from a shadowy corner of the room.

"...Actually, I'm unfortunately all too familiar with who YOU are, despite your rather... limited runtime in our delightful little underworld," a sing-songy voice chimed in from behind him, rich with a mocking cadence. The air crackled with a low hum of static, a sound that gave Vox goosebumps.

Alastor stepped out of the shadows, his grin monstrous as ever. "--But I must admit, your current predicament is far more entertaining than any broadcast you've ever produced previously," Alastor told him, holding back a chuckle, an eerie disembodied laugh track playing under his words.

Vox stared in disbelief for a second, feeling a cold sweat run over him. A million emotions swelled beneath his glitching exterior, and Vox didn't hesitate, replying with pure venom, "A-Alastor, y-Y-y-yOu outdated, r-r-radio-relic p-P-p-iece of shhhhhhhhhh..."

Alastor's voice rang out above his with jeering glee, "Now, now! Save your bandwidth, chum! You might blow a circuit in your condition." The deer-horned overlord punctuated his mocking advice by tapping his mic roughly against Vox's flickering, glitching screen, causing a screech of interference.

Vox jerked his head away, a growl of rage escaping him, though it came out distorted and glitchy. He just hoped his erratic buffering would at least mask the pounding of his heart and the involuntary tremble of his frame. Alastor, seemingly oblivious to Vox's inner turmoil, continued in his unsettlingly cheerful tone.

"I know it's been some time since we've met...˘×Ƒʌȼϵ˟Ƭϕ͓˟ϜѧϾЄₓ΄...." he continued, his features morphing into a nightmarish mask that loomed mere inches from Vox's screen. His presence was overwhelming, his sharp eyes boring into Vox as if peering into the very core of his damned soul.