Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The Radio Demon was sitting in his room of the hotel.
He flipped through the channels, his ears twitching in annoyance as he scoffed at the latest sitcom." he chuckled, "It's almost as if Vox have no idea how ridiculous these people sound."
He sighed and changed the channel again. Just as he was about to give up on finding something halfway decent to watch, a familiar voice came through the static.
"Alastor, are you there?"
Alastor perked up, recognizing the voice of Lute,"Lute! My dear, how lovely to hear from you!" he replied, adjusting his black bowtie. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Oh, you know," Lute sighed, "just wanted to say hi and see how you've been holding up since....Charlie and Vaggie?"
Alastor winced. "Oh, Lute, you do not want to bring up that subject. It's still quite raw." He paused for a moment, then added, "But I suppose I should be glad that you haven't come to hunt us down, like Vox and Velvette seem so eager to do."
Lute nervously chuckled. "I'm just...well, I'm just here to warn you, really. Vox and Velvette, they're...they're not the kind of people you want to make enemies of. They're relentless. And they don't care who they have to hurt in the process."
Alastor nodded, his expression solemn. "Yes, we're well aware of that, my dear. But you needn't worry about us. We've been through worse and survived. Besides, there are...others who wish to see Vox and Velvette brought to justice. And we intend to help them."
Lute perked up, hope in her voice. "Really? You mean it?"
Alastor smiled reassuringly. "Of course we do. Why else would we be here, holed up in this old hotel?" He gestured around his room, taking in the dusty curtains and peeling wallpaper. "It's not exactly the most luxurious accommodations, but it's safe...for now."
"Well, I'm glad to hear it," Lute replied, her tone more confident now. "Because you know Vox and Velvette won't give up until they've gotten what they want. And we can't afford to let our guard down for a second."
Alastor nodded grimly. "Indeed. The stakes are higher than ever before. But fear not, my dear. We'll get through this together. And when we do, we'll make sure those responsible are brought to justice."
There was a pause, and then Lute said, "Well, I should be going. But thank you, Alastor. It's good to know I still have friends in this world." With a small laugh, she disappeared from the screen, leaving Alastor alone once more. He sighed and switched off the television, his mind already turning towards their next move.
One morning, as Alastor sat down to breakfast, he received an encrypted message from one of their contacts. The message contained a single video file, and Alastor couldn't help but feel a shiver of anticipation run down his spine. He made sure no one was watching him, then opened the file and hit play.
The video quality was grainy and low-res, but it didn't matter. The image on the screen was unmistakable. There, standing before a row of shelves filled with bottles and jars, was Vox and Velvette. They were arguing heatedly, their voices raised and their hands gesticulating wildly. The camera had to be hidden somewhere nearby, likely planted by one of their own agents.
Alastor watched, rapt, as the conversation unfolded. It seemed that Vox and Velvette were arguing about the same thing they had been fighting about with Charlie and Vaggie: the truth. The details were hard to make out, but it was clear that they were growing more and more desperate. And that desperation, Alastor knew, could be their undoing.
