Chapter II

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Alastor spun his cane with vague interest, digging the heel of his shoe deeper into the demon's chest that was currently writhing in agony below him. Alastor wore a large smile as he surveyed the tears dripping down the sinners' cheeks. "I don't like liars, you know. Tell me the truth, and this will all be over." Alastor's voice fizzled and popped with static energy as he spoke.
"Please! No more! I admit it! I admit it!" The sinner cried, digging his claws into the moss-covered concrete alleyway wall they were in.
"You admit what exactly?" His tone was bone-chillingly calm, and his smile stretched impossibly wide. The dials in his eyes ticked as the Demon tried to pry Alastor's shoe from within his chest.
"I admit that I stole from you! Please, stop!" The sinner begged for mercy, watching with fear-filled eyes as Alastor cocked his head at him.
"There, that was far easier than you realised, wasn't it?" Alastor cooed sarcastically.
"S-so you'll let me go?" The demon looked up at him hopefully.
"Oh no, no, no dear sinner," Alastor's tone grew terrifyingly cold. "I said that it would be over when you admitted it, not that you would be let go." His head twisted at a horrifying angle.
"W-what? N-" The sinners' sentence was cut short, as Alastor drove his cane into his heart. Alastor brushed off the blood that had ended up on his coat and snapped his fingers, summoning a creature of shadows.
"Take this body and deliver it to Lady Rosies' Emporium, I don't eat sinners, but tell her if she has a deer in stock, I will gladly take it."
The creature nodded, picking up the body and disappearing back into the shadows. That reminded Alastor that he needed to stop by her shop himself anyway. He was running low on food for his creatures. Alastor still couldn't understand it. They were made of shadows, and yet they needed to eat, completely ruined the - as Rosie would put it - "Coolness" of the situation. God knows what else that woman said when he didn't pay attention to her rambling. And she had this annoying habit of calling him "an ace in the hole" whatever that meant. In all fairness, however, she was the greatest and only ally Alastor could almost trust. He would not call her a friend because that would mean admitting he cared for her, and that would make him and Rosie vulnerable, so no, she was not a stupid thing called a 'friend' she was a mutual business partner that he sometimes hung out with and talked with. Alastor sighed, rubbing his forehead. Here, he was having an inner monologue after killing a thieving sinner, That silly brat he had partnered with a week ago was influencing him more than he'd like to admit. Charlie Morningstar, Princess of Hell and Walking Confetti Cannon. He massaged his forehead as he exited the alleyway, wiping off his cane and frying any television in sight. He came to the end of Arsen Street before pausing and looking around, searching for something. He was sure he had heard sobbing nearby. However, he couldn't see anything and so played it up to chance before taking another step and stopping again. No, there it was. It was nearby, Alastor looked around before seeing a hint of white fabric flowing in the breeze just around the corner. Alastor approached slowly, curiosity getting the better of him. As he got closer, he noticed that a man was sitting against a brick wall, sobbing into his knees, and yet that wasn't the thing that made him sneer. The thing that made him sneer was the fact the man was wearing neon yellow slippers designed after ducks and silk pyjamas designed similarly. They were hideous, and Alastor felt himself physically recoiling at the offensive fashion choice. The sobs were suddenly stifled, and the man raised his head, suddenly aware of Alastors' presence. Alastor barely managed to conceal himself before the man's head snapped around in his direction. With a proper view of the man's face, Alastor could have sworn he had seen him before. Squinting his eyes, he observed the man's face and witnessed the man shivering and staring into Alastor's shadows. Alastor flattened his fluffy ears as it suddenly came to him, why he knew the man sitting on the curb sobbing. It was the same man posing in the portrait with Charlie in the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor's smile grew larger as he realised who the man was. Lucifer Morningstar, the King of Hell, was currently sitting on the floor like a common sinner crying his eyes out.

"Oh, this will be fun..." Alastor hissed softly as he revealed himself stepping into the King's line of sight. Alastor cocked his head, his ears flopping slightly as he watched the King scrabble backwards, pressing his back against the wall, chest rising and falling rapidly. "Now, now. Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you." Lucifer's hands shook as Alastor took another step forward. "I only want to offer you something," He crooned as if talking to a frightened animal.
"L-leave me alone." Alastor was slightly taken aback by the King's soft, melodious voice before snapping out of it and stopping the running figure of Lucifer by using a shadow wall.

"That is not how a king behaves." Lucifer froze, and Alastor tutted, tapping his cane on the floor in an almost soothing beat. "What would Charlie think?" Alastor's grin widened as he saw the King tense, his gold and red eyes focusing on him.

"H-how do you know my daughter?" Alastor watched the king whimper as he said that.

"I work with her at the Hazbin Hotel." Lucifer scrabbled up and slowly walked towards Alastor.

"C-could you get her to talk with me?" The king's eyes were large and pleading and Alastor felt himself recoiling from a feeling, similar to sympathy, that was growing in his chest. "Please? J-just one conversation?" Alastor stared at the king as he begged and an idea began to form in his head.

"What would it be worth to you?" Alastor smiled, the idea growing, forming roots in his mind.

"Anything. I would give anything." The king sniffled.

"Perfect."



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⏰ Last updated: Jun 06 ⏰

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