(Alastor x Vox) Knife Through the Heart

Chapter 7

No...this can't be correct. Angel Dust must be hearing things wrong, because the man he sees before him is a far cry from the demon who wreaked so much havoc upon hell. But then again, this is what the Vees are good at. Worming their way into someone's heart, into their minds, and breaking them down from the inside. When Angel first woke up in hell, he hadn't known what to do, and that was phrasing it extremely mildly. All it took was a few shots of alcohol in his system for Valentino to slink into the club, tempting him with sweet lies and empty promises.

But it's more than apparent that wasn't what happened to Alastor, but that doesn't make anything that the radio demon was subjected to any better.

"You're not making any sense," Angel breathlessly whispers, attempting to place a comforting hand over Alastor's shoulder. "I just...I don't want to lose anyone at this hotel. Not after Sir Pentious......"

Angel can't even bring himself to say it. That weird snake had a way of endearing himself into the hearts and minds of everyone, save maybe Alastor. The deer man really did love that coat.

There's a crazed, manic look in Alastor's eyes as his uncontrolled laughter borders onto heartwrenching sobs. He brings his hands up to his head, nails digging into his scalp, and he just...crumples. "You mean because he died!? We've been dead for decades, my dear!" Alastor exclaims, voice increasing in intensity by the second. "Don't you dare think for a single moment that we were ever friends!"

Visibly, Angel recoils from this, but he knows it's the shock of his wounds talking, or perhaps the inner turmoil raging from within.

Maybe a combination of the two, along with an unseen problem ailing Alastor.

"Yes, sure, my fellow, we're friends," Alastor hisses out that last part, biting back a sharp yelp of pain as fatigue washes over him. Angel decides not to point out the contradiction in Alastor's words. "But what makes you think I don't have everything under control!? I let Vox touch me—I wanted him to get close to me; I was practically asking for it! And have I not always been quick to remind you all that I'm only here for the entertainment!?"

Mouth slightly agape, Angel looks at the radio demon with a disturbed expression, but steely asks, "Is that what you've been telling yourself? Nothing about what he did was remotely okay! And I call bullshit on this—No one would exert this much time and effort over a cheap laugh. You like us; you could've let us all die two months ago! Who the hell would fight in a war they don't believe in...fight with people they didn't truly care for!?"

Alastor visibly pales at this, but whether from his injuries or everything else, Angel can't entirely discern.

Sitting up to his full height, Alastor does his best to plaster on a bright, sunny smile. Angel can see through his shitty lies, and now that he's gotten acquainted with this version of Alastor, he wonders how many of Alastor's smiles were meant to delude other demons, let alone himself.

"You don't know who you're talking to," Alastor venomously retorts, but it's hard to take him seriously as he's muffling another cough into his sleeve, looking far more weak and pitiful than ever. A slight trickle of blood runs down his mouth, and that worries Angel just as much as everything else.