Helluva Deal

83. Spreading Doubts

Alastor steps out of the shower and shakes his head, splattering water everywhere, his ears twitching. Then he grabs a towel and wraps it around his hip, standing in front of the mirror now, looking at himself.

His short deer fur.

His many scars.

His adorable ears and now covered tail.

He's come to accept his appearance more and more over time since he ended up in hell. But the past few months made him...LIKE it somehow. He's come to see its advantages, even in its cuteness. And the sparring with Blitz even made him realize how combat ready he is, even if he couldn't believe it at first.

He carefully runs his hand over a long scar at his stomach. The one he reopened shortly after getting to know Blitz and the others, purely because he thought he needed to be injured to be accepted and loved. Fool that he was.

Now he's smarter. And he's learned to trust.

But one thing hasn't changed...

„Stop giving me that look," murmurs Alastor without looking at his shadow that has manifested itself again without his permission, giving him a sad, worried look.

Alastor growls lowly and reaches for another towel to rub his fur dry.

The shadow moves around him.

„Stop that!" snaps the radio demon after a few seconds and glares at the silhouette, „I am not giving in, okay?! That's all that matters!"

At this, the shadow gives him an angry glare and suddenly snatches at his towel.

„Ey!" Alastor holds it in place with one hand and reflexively throws a brush after the hissing figure, „Fuck off!"

The shadow dodges and hisses again, then it moves to the mirror and points at Alastor's reflected, covered nether regions there.

„WHAT?!?" Alastor glares at it, but then follows its gesture and winces back, „What the..."

The radio demon can't help a light tremble when he now carefully removes the towel after seeing what his shadow apparently already noticed peeking out from under the cloth.

He just stares at the skin beneath his short fur at the area around his groin for a moment.

Then he swears, „Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck! Not again! And why above all places THERE now out of a sudden?!"

The shadow moves around in the room and then suddenly returns to its master with his mobile phone, a specific contact already opened.

Alastor meanwhile tries to calm his breathing again and when the shadow holds him his phone and he takes a look at it, he violently shakes his head, „I don't need help! I can handle this alone, just like before! I just... Shit!" he presses his hand onto his mouth, suppressing a whimper. With his other hand, he now finally lets go of the towel completely and instead moves it to put it onto his own lower stomach, from where the blackness is spreading all over his nether region.

„Why...is this happening again and again?! I haven't had any contact with blessed weapons in weeks... Not since..." he gasps out and holds his head, „FUCK! When will this...finally stop?!?"

The shadow gives him another sad look and once again holds him the phone.

„No. I can...heal myself... I just have to..." the overlord moves his hands again, to close them around his now quickly blackening groin, but...he freezes, shaking violently.

Why can't he force himself to touch himself?

Why does he feel so...

Why does his intimate area feel so...

Why...does this occur every time he had a restless night?

And why...does this now happen so many hours after he woke up, instead of right away, like usually?

Why didn't he notice until seconds ago?

Why does it hurt so bad?

Why...

His eyes move to the phone again, then to his shadow and he whispers, „Why can't I...heal myself? What...is wrong with me again?"

The shadow hisses helplessly and holds him the phone once more.

„You...know better what's going on than me, huh?" Alastor swallows hard, then he shaking reaches for his phone, takes it and calls the already opened contact, his voice breaking once the person on the other end of the line picks up, „Ozzie? I think...I need your...help..."