Chapter Text
Today had been a particularly drab day.
Acid rain had been falling all afternoon and Pentagram City was shut down because of it. And you could feel yourself shutting down as well.
These bad days used to fall on you much more often. Back when life was simpler and less stimulating. When there were less options to hyper fixate on and stimulate those delightful hormones that didn’t always help you to feel happy but allowed you to . . . feel.
But today you felt that numbness creeping in; a slithering, creeping, darker cousin to boredom. You were so tired and every forced smile and polite reply aimed at the other hotel residents drained your battery little by little by little by little . . . .
You were on your fifth cup of coffee that afternoon, the bitter caffeinated beverage the only thing left that seemed to cause any kind of chemical spark in your dead gray matter, but unknowingly, you had stopped sipping it several minutes ago. Rather, you were just mindlessly staring down into it, watching the little tendrils of separated creamer swirl around the top. At least it was far more interesting than anything else going on in the lobby.
“Are we having a bit of a . . . down day?” Alastor’s voice said remarkably close to your ear and you jumped, turning to find him bent over at his waist, his head right next to yours.
“I’m fine,” you insisted, turning away from him.
He had pampered and fussed over you too many times on days like these, even when – no, especially when they became so bad you couldn’t get out of bed. But things were different now; since his return to Hell, Alastor was busier than ever and you didn’t want to bother him. The guilt would be worse than the emptiness you were currently struggling with.
“I think not,” came his sing-song reply and you shut your eyes against the enthusiasm you heard in his tone.
“Don’t I look fine?” you challenged and when he stood up straighter, his smile pinching just a little at the corners, you heard how snippy you sounded with him and sighed. There was the damnable guilt you had been trying to avoid.
“You look beautiful as always, darling,” came his quick reply. “I just thought you could use a little cheering up.”
He leaned back in, whispering conspiratorial into your ear now. “I was hoping you would join me . . . on a date . . .” His eyes glowed as he let his words sink in. “But if you’d rather sit in here and sulk the rest of the night, I’ll leave you to it.”
“Like . . . a date, date?” you asked, feeling a little bit of the weight leaving your chest as hope bloomed in you.
“Precisely.” His smile stretched ear to ear. “There is someone I need to collect a debt on and the weather tonight seems just perfect for such an occasion. I would more than welcome your company.”
You felt your first genuine smile of the day grace your features, nearly matching the wickedness of Alastor’s own features, and that little spark you had felt turned into an entire flood of dopamine.
“Where to?” you asked and Alastor took your head, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, before leading you out the front doors.
The prey dragged itself up the stairs, stumbling on every other step and grasping the handrail for balance as he went. Although the rainstorm had kept him from the bars that night, it hadn’t kept him from his personal stache of liquor and in his lonely anger, he had downed several gin and tonics before his stomach began to protest and he had passed out in his armchair. He’d woken up a few minutes ago, his bladder protesting the diuretic effects of the booze. By some miracle he had made it to his downstairs bathroom to relieve himself and then decided it was time to crawl into bed.
He made it to the top of the landing after a considerable struggle with the staircase and almost forgot to the turn the lights off behind him. Fumbling with the switch, he just happened to glance down the stairs as the lights flickered out of existence.
The prey blinked in the darkness, trying to adjust his eyes, as he thought he saw a strange shadow at the bottom of the stairs.
He was sure he was alone in the house and he couldn’t quite be sure of what he was seeing, so he flipped the lights back on.
Nothing.
Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, he turned the lights back off.
And there it was again.
A shadow. Taller and definitely there.
Feeling his heart begin to race, the prey flipped the lights on, certain he wasn’t imagining it this time but as the staircase became illuminated once more, the shadow was gone.
He had perhaps had too much to drink.
One last time, he flipped the switch, inviting the darkness back in, and this time when the shadow came back, the prey swore there were faint glowing green eyes and the hint of a smile playing across its features.
And was it a little closer this time? He had sworn it was at the bottom of the stairs but now it seemed to be a few steps up.
“Now that’s enough of that!” the prey shouted and flipped on the lights.
He breathed a sigh of relief when once more, there was nothing.
Maybe it was best to sleep with the lights on tonight, just to be certain.
The prey turned away from the stairs, leaving the switch flipped in the on position, and came chest to chest with The Radio Demon.
“Good evening, Daniel,” Alastor said, smiling wider as the prey’s face turned several shades whiter. “I see you’ve changed residences.”
“Hey there, Al’ . . . I-I mean, Alastor . . . sir. M-Mr. Radio D-demon,” the prey stuttered, stumbling backwards and just barely catching himself on the banister. “You uh . . . you like my new digs, huh? Paid a pretty penny for it but you know, it’ll be good for business.”
Alastor remained at the top of the stairs, watching his prey make its slow decent down and away from him.
“And who’s business would that be? Certainly not mine, I don’t deal in real estate after all.”
“You know, ha, it’s funny you would say that because I’ve been meaning to talk to you- ”
“You made a mistake, Daniel,” Alastor told his prey, all the politeness leaving his tone, although his smile remained.
The prey swallowed audibly.
“Did you really think going to Zestial, of all demons, would save you from our deal?”
“I-I don’t know what you’re . . . talking abou- ”
“You see, Daniel, Zestial and I may not necessarily be friends, but we are colleagues. And we have an understanding. A certain level of respect for each other, if you will.” Alastor narrowed his eyes and his voice turned cold as ice. “And neither of us like having another Overlord’s leftovers.”
Daniel turned and fled, racing down the rest of the steps with a grace that only adrenaline could provide in such a state of inebriation, though he did fumble quite a bit with the locks of the front doors.
Alastor let his prey make it out the front door before he went in pursuit, though he let his deep laughter follow Daniel the whole way down, enjoying the sweet tangy smell of his fear as it spiked at the sound.
In his panic, the prey forgot all about the inclement weather and dashed thoughtlessly out into the rainstorm and ran down the deserted street. It took a minute for the effects to kick in but eventually he started to feel the itching on his skin and then the burning set in. The prey stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, beneath a streetlamp, and watched as the skin on his hands began to turn red and break out in a terrible heat rash.
With a sob, he dashed under an overhang of a nearby business and shook at the doorhandle, but it wouldn’t budge. He thought about breaking the window to get inside but then he heard that laughter again and the streetlights above flickered and then went out, one by one.
Looking down the street, he watched as The Radio Demon stepped out into view, his antlers now wide and pointed above his silhouette, and turned his head down the street, looking in his prey’s direction.
A smell wafted off of him, even from this great distance. A dank, swampy, animalistic smell. The musk filled the prey’s nostrils and burned his sinuses, and he knew it was the smell of a predator about to pounce.
“That’s alright, Daniel, go ahead and run. Please do.”
To the prey’s horror, Alastor began walking quickly down the sidewalk, completely unaffected by the burning rain. His limbs and entire body stretched out and elongated with every step, closing the distance between them faster than previously possible, until Alastor was a towering demonic presence chasing down the street after him.
“I like my meals warmed up!” he shouted, and the prey screamed as he took off again.
It was either face the rain or be eaten and the prey chose the rain as it sprinted down the street, screaming and crying out for help but not a light flickered on in the buildings as he passed them.
Eventually the burning became unbearable and the prey darted blindly into the nearest alleyway, praying to Roo herself that there would be some shelter to hide in and protect him from the rain.
And there it was, a small overhang by a bar’s backdoor, with a conveniently placed dumpster to hide next to that blocked his view of the street.
That was where the prey found you, standing innocently by the door, shielded from the rain, and he didn’t question why you would be there on a night like this. He only fell at your feet, clinging to your legs and shaking, his hands and face now beginning to blister, his tears hot and stinging his flesh as they fell down his cheeks.
“Please! Please, help me! Let me in! Please! He’s going to eat me, please!”
“Who is going to eat you?” you asked sweetly, tilting your head as you considered the pathetic demon at your feet.
“Alastor. Th-the Radio Demon. He . . . he . . .” the prey fumbled for words, his sentence trailing off as he risked peaking up over the top of the dumpster and seeing nothing but an empty street at the end of the alleyway.
“Oh, right. Him,” you said, nodding. “Well, that’s his thing, isn’t it? Going after demons that try and break their deals. Especially ones like you, who preyed after helpless young women when he was alive. Isn’t that right . . . Daniel?”
The prey’s breath caught in his throat as he glanced over his shoulder at you, a new kind of fear lighting his eyes.
“Who . . . who are you?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“That’s not important,” you scoffed. “Who was the girl you raped and left for dead in the park on the night of your 18th birthday? Or the sex workers you then tortured and killed and left their bodies out in the desert? Do you even remember their names? Do you know how many family members are still looking for their daughters, sisters, mothers?”
“I don’t . . . I didn’t . . .” he stammered, getting to his feet now.
“You did. No use denying it now, Daniel. Not when Alastor and I are so . . . very . . . hungry.”
A crackling noise, like the sound of several joints popping at once filled the air, and the prey looked up and up and up as he saw Alastor’s gigantic form peeling away from the darkened side of the building, turning from nothing but shadow into a very corporeal and deadly form before his very eyes.
Behind him, you shoved at his back, forcing him to fall onto his knees into a puddle of acid rain.
Then you stepped out from under the cover of the overhang, letting the rain soak your hair and clothes, and the prey looked up at you with renewed horror as he realized the acid water had no effect on you either.
“Please,” he whimpered and then began to scream as Alastor bent over and lifted him into the air.
You watched as the prey’s tiny body was lifted higher and higher until the rain and the shadows hid him mostly from view but you could still hear him screaming. Then there was a crunching noise and a wet sound, followed by a thin stream of blood that fell from the sky.
The screaming continued.
“This will be quite unpleasant until it’s over,” Alastor’s voice said from high above you. “But my darling companion does love the taste of demon heart.”
Another sound of stretching and tearing and then you saw it; the warm mass of your meal falling towards you, and you reached up and caught it with skilled precision.
With the prey’s heart now in your grasp, you brought it to your lips and took an eager bite, never minding the blood that ran down your forearms and coated your lower face.
The screaming above you came to a sudden halt with the sound of one final loud crunch and just as you were taking the last bites of your own meal, Alastor was standing before you.
His antlers were still larger than usual, their six points gleaming beautifully in the dim light of the alley, as rain ran down them in rivulets, soaking the red and black hair beneath them.
Alastor gave you a loving smile as you swallowed the last bit of heart.
“Feeling better, my love?” he asked.
“Much,” you said with a satisfied sigh. “Thank you.”
He reached a hand out, wiping away a bit of blood from the side of your mouth with his thumb, though he had hardly succeeded in getting it all.
“You always look positively stunning like this,” he said as he brought his bloody thumb to his mouth and gave it an appreciative suck.
And there in the rain and the dark, you and your lover shared a private and tender kiss, the perfect ending to a perfect date.