Chapter Text
Charlie watched as her father isolated himself in the room, tinkering and crafting yellowed birds. She could only watch him drowning in misery and wallowing in self-pity and deprecation.
She could only wait and watch outside the room, hoping her father would notice and go back to his usual self—happy and cheerful.
A month had passed, and another followed it until the number of months turned three.
Charlie kept waiting and waiting, but her father just focused on his crafts, inventing different kinds of small yellow ducks. He rarely sees her anymore, seldom meeting her for more than five minutes before running off to the room. Isolating himself while pushing her away, as if he didn’t want to see her.
Although they maintained the appearance of a strong marriage in front of the masses; he and mother had decided to separate, living separate lives behind closed doors.
Her father was devastated, heartbroken, and couldn’t understand why her mother had wanted to end the marriage.
Charlie didn’t understand either. They clearly loved each other and were so happy that their relationship was envied. To love one person without secret lovers or third parties for ten thousand years is an aspiration for every living being! Then suddenly, her mother wanted to end their healthy, loving, to-die-for marriage.
“Ah, crap! Another mistake...pretty sure it should be like this...AHA! There! Well, aren’t you a cutie.” Her father cooed, gently putting the yellow duck on top of the pile of ducks with different features. Stretching his back and arms, he muttered, “What to make next?”
No one was standing outside the room anymore. Charlie had already left the moment the sky had turned into a darker red hue.
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Inside the vast, wide library; Charlie opened a book she had read so many times she lost count. It was her only source of comfort for her loneliness in this big castle.
‘The Epic of Hell’s Feared Executioner.’
Charlie looks at the vibrant red hair of the demon standing victoriously atop a pile of their enemies’ bloodied corpses. Standing tall, proud and filled with superiority. His beautiful bronze-colored skin facing across from her, showing the battle marks that he had received from war and battles.
The Executioner.
Satan’s finest and most feared subordinate throughout the rings of Hell.
Even though their face could not be seen in the book, most of their pictures are a view of their back while they’re in their demonic form. As if the demon didn’t want everyone to see their face. Charlie could tell that they must have been beautiful, given how the author of the book drew the Executioner’s full physical appearance with care.
They were clad in garments that draped like a midnight requiem, its crimson bodice was high-collared, and the sleeves swelled into dramatic bishop puffs. A heavy golden deer-shaped sigil integrated with a snake laying on its head hung suspended at the throat, glowing like a Midas gold against the crimson fabric. The skirt exploded into a cathedral-train of scarlet satin slashed open to reveal antique gold embroidered panels, brocaded with filigree vines and scattered jewelled roses that caught the light like stolen stars. The lacework clung to the gown’s edges like frost on a crypt window, intricate and unyielding, while the wide, ornate belt cinched the waist, transforming the wearer into something halfway between a saint and a femme fatale. They also wore white knee-length pants and black, leather boots—slim and calf-high—tucked neatly under the hem of the pants.
Their long red hair with black tips that flowed downwards until the waist was tied in a half bun. They had long and sharp black antlers and large red colored deer ears with black tips.
They stood tall, near the throne obviously belonging to Satan. A prideful stance that clearly showed the kind of person they were.
The author speaks loudly with grandiose words in the book, describing the demon’s great feat, their appearance, and why they were feared with their well-earned titles.
Grand Torturer of Hell. Chief Executioner. Evil Genius of the Household. Nightmare of Sin. Demon Most Vile.
Charlie relished in every word recounting how the Executioner defied fate; once one of the weakest demons with the body of a prey animal, they revealed their fangs and claws to kill every enemy in sight.
They were once an angel—The Destroying Angel of Heavens— and because of their love of bloodlust and sadism, they were exiled and fell down to Hell before Lucifer Morningstar. As a punishment, the Heavens transformed him into a deer demon, one of the weakest races in Hell.
But the Executioner proved them wrong and slapped the faces of Heaven by showcasing their strength. They had risen from the lowest-level demon to become the most feared Chief Executioner of Hell. ‘A very prideful and vain creature, they were.’ said the author.
Charlie was already at the end of the book and closed it, pulling it closer to her chest. She really loved reading the wonderful tales of the Executioner, even though she didn’t like the killings and sadism, she admired the demon’s strong will to defy fate. To defy Heaven’s oppressive will that had been bestowed upon them. They made her understand that everything could happen if there was a strong will, baring their teeth and claws, and persevering until the end to create the world that they wanted.
And that’s why Charlie had that characteristic to continue her parents’ dream, to make the Sinners redeemed and Heaven realize that they — the Morningstars — were right.
But what confused Charlie was that in the portrait, the demon’s face was a mess of scribbled lines, as if whoever drew it had wanted to erase or forget their features. She even noticed the ripped piece of paper on the page, removing the name and leaving only the deeds of the demon.
She gently caresses the scribbled lines. Erratic. Angry. Sorrowful. Charlie could feel the emotions within the scribbles. It may seem stupid to others, but she truly can imagine the pain of the one who drew this.
Charlie had never heard of this Hellborn demon in Goetias, or any well-known demons. None have remembered, known him, nor given her a full answer to her questions when she asked her tutors about the Executioner.
Perhaps, the Executioner had long since passed away without anyone knowing. It’s been thousands and thousands of years and as time goes by, nobody will ever remember the ancient ones and will only remember those who are present.
Whoever drew these frantic lines must have been their soulmate, devastated by the fact that they would never meet again. They must have found out from their marks. When the soulmate dies, the color of the mark will turn to black.
Losing your destined one is ten thousand times more painful than losing a battle. It makes you become irrational, miserable beyond repair, and hopeless. It's like depriving you of oxygen and the will to live.
Charlie could never imagine losing her soulmate. She’d rather die than continue living on like a soulless being.
So she vowed to protect her soulmate, no matter what, even if it kills her.
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When Charlie had first met Alastor, she only knew him as the Radio Demon who was known and feared because of his sadistic nature, having reached the top by defeating and killing the former Overlords.
‘The Executioner’ was her very first thought of him, after he’d greeted her, said his name and stated his reasoning as to why he wanted to continue her mother’s legacy—to redeem the sinners.
“Charlie, listen to me. You can’t believe this creep! He isn’t just a happy face! He’s a deal maker!...Pure evil! He can’t be redeemed!...He’s probably just looking for a way to destroy everything we’re trying to do!” Vaggi said in a serious, stern voice as she grabbed Charlie’s shoulder. Glaring darkly at the Radio Demon, she silently warned the man with her fierce gaze.
Charlie glanced briefly at Alastor, who was sauntering around the hotel, “I...” She sighs softly, looking at her girlfriend, “We don’t know that! Look, I know he’s bad, and I know he probably doesn’t wanna change, but the whole point of this is giving people a chance!”
From her peripherals, Alastor inspects a portrait of the royal family. His smile formed a neutral line.
Charlie continued, putting her hands on Vaggi’s shoulders. “I need to have faith that things will be better! How can I just turn someone away? I can’t! It goes against everything I’m trying to do. Everything I believe in! Just...trust me. I can take care of myself!”
“Charlie, whatever you do...do not make a deal with him!” Vaggi reminded her once more. Charlie assured her girlfriend that she would never forget what her father always says about making deals with demons or sinners. Her girlfriend was still sceptical but was convinced into letting her talk to the notorious Overlord.
Charlie walked over to where Alastor was standing, but just as she was about to speak, her attention was caught by a strange, black string wrapped lifelessly around the Radio Demon’s right wrist. She could see that the end of it had been forcefully cut off.
Rubbing her eyes and blinking, she looks for the black string again only to see it gone. Confusing. However, Charlie decided to focus on more important things, such as having a conversation about important matters involving the hotel. She wanted to make sure that Alastor was willing to be a part of their team and help her grow influence within the Pride Ring. She knows that her royal title will be no use to her, as her parents were absent for a hundred years following their separation. Whilst her father lives in isolation, trapped in his sorrow, her mother is still nowhere to be found.
She sensed that Alastor had somehow agreed to join her. The Radio Demon reached his hand out towards her, offering her a deal. Her eyes noticed the black string appearing on Alastor’s wrist.
Charlie shook her head, declining the offer. “Nope! No shaking! No deals! I-...hmm...As Princess of Hell and Heir to the throne, I-...uh-, hereby order that you help with this hotel. For as long as you desire.” She says weakly, looking at Vaggi for approval. She gives her a small smile to show her emotional support. Her girlfriend will always support her, which is why Charlie loves her so much.
Her gaze goes back to the black string on Alastor’s wrist. She can feel its emotions. She doesn’t know how, but Charlie could understand the sound emitting from the black string.
Lifelessness. Sorrow. Pain. Heartbreak.
Looking at Alastor, who was still smiling at her, she was reminded of the smiles that she usually sees from the noble Hellborns that she meets during the occasions when her parents are invited to banquets, galas, debuts, and all other noble activities. Calculative and cold.
But Charlie is willing to give him a chance.
She couldn’t understand her impulsive thoughts of being willing to accept someone who might be scheming against her, but the black string was telling her that there was more to the Radio Demon that many did not know.
“Alastor, welcome to the hotel! I hope we can work together...uhm...hopefully for many years, hahaha...” Charlie said with uncertainty.
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Angel is mad at her, and rightfully so. She can’t blame the spider demon for being angry at her for messing it up.
Charlie sighs, staring at her phone. All of her messages were being seen but left unanswered. None of her parents were responding to her, not even bothering to give reassurances or ask how she was doing.
It makes her feel sad that both of her parents don’t want to talk to her. She feels like an unwanted child.
Vaggi had comforted her, though she still felt horrible after ruining everything for Angel. She could still see his painful limp when he walked, and the bruises on him when he would return home late at night. She wanted to apologise, but with her tendency to hover around them like an overprotective mother hen, it would not be the best time for it. Yeah, definitely not a good idea...
Perhaps a nice late midnight snack would cheer her up, and tomorrow she would be feeling more energized to plan everything out for their activities of redemption, and also apologise to Angel.
Charlie kissed her sleeping girlfriend on the forehead and went downstairs to go to the kitchen. She doesn’t know how to cook, but hey, food is food, whether it’s inedible or not, at least she tried.
The door to the kitchen was left ajar, the lights were on, indicating that someone was in there. She didn’t know who could be awake at this ungodly hour, but maybe it was also someone like her who wanted to have a snack as well. Definitely not Husk, he was still sleeping drunk in the bar as Alastor told him to stay and guard the hotel—which confused everyone. Nifty was put to sleep by Alastor—for an energetic and volatile demon—she does strictly follow time very well. It also couldn’t be Sir Pentious, the man was busy creating his inventions. Could it be Angel? It could be. It was possibly him seeing as yesterday was a mess and he didn’t speak to anyone after the fiasco with Valentino in VoxTek.
Letting out an exhaled breath, she calms her anxiousness and tries to think up a narrative of what to say to Angel without fucking it up.
Slowly, she opens the door, taking a peek to see whether it was Angel or not. Instead, it was someone who was very much unexpected. Charlie watched Alastor prepare himself a warm coffee. Gone was the red pinstriped coat, red shirt, trousers and dress shoes. Alastor was currently wearing black, silk pajamas, with his hair tied up in a ponytail that revealed his low taper cut.
Alastor was always prim and so knowledgeable of etiquette that it made her feel ashamed of her lack of manners. Charlie, despite being a princess, had to admit that she had been spoiled rotten and had always been indulged by her doting parents. Yes, she’s spoiled, but she’s not a brat.
Tonight, he looks different. Really Different.
It was like he was just being himself and not the Radio Demon facade that he has to keep up with. The person in front of her was Alastor. Just Alastor.
“Is there something you want, my dear?” She was snapped out of her train of thoughts when Alastor asked that. He must have noticed her standing like a fool watching him make a coffee.
“I...-...uhm...uh- hi?” Charlie cringes inwardly at her awkwardness. She and Alastor had rarely conversed anything with each other that wasn’t hotel-related business or redemption plans. She inwardly sighs, “So uhm-...you also don’t sleep as well..?” Well, she tried to be as sociable as she could be.
“Hmm, no, I find myself merely craving a nice, warm cup of coffee to sip on whilst I enjoy a quiet evening of reading.” Alastor answered, surprisingly, without that radio static filter. It was his natural voice and Charlie really liked it.
“Oh, uh, that’s nice. Really nice.” Charlie said, just standing awkwardly in front of the Radio Demon. She didn’t know how to interact casually with Alastor. Not at all.
“Would you care for some, Your Highness? I happened to make enough for the both of us, along with some nicely warmed, freshly baked cookies from my hometown.” Alastor offered, showing the coffee pot (the only modern technology that he could tolerate) and a plate of thin, golden caramel cookies shaped in irregular circles with tiny holes.
Charlie feels warmth. This was one of the rare occurrences that Alastor was willing to share with others. The only exception of someone having the privilege to receive kindness from the Radio Demon was Niffty. She saw how Alastor always treated the little demon with gentleness, care and respect. Which is why Charlie decided to give him a chance despite him being cold, scheming and distant to others, and adding the fact that he’s a cannibalistic demon and had been a serial killer in the past? Who would want to add him to their team? Yet she accepted him, despite all those rumors and the warnings from her friends.
“Sure! I would love to. Thanks Alastor!” Charlie beamed at him, feeling happy. Her insecurities and problems with Angel had been thrown out the window. Right now, she wanted to savor the coffee and those cookies because Alastor was a great cook. She was so jealous that Niffty (even Husk) were always eating heavenly food cooked by the notorious Radio Demon.
Alastor—like the good gentleman he is—offered her a seat that she happily sits in. He served her a plate of cookies, and a coffee mixed with milk. Alastor must have noticed that she always liked adding milk to her coffee.
Charlie doesn’t understand why it makes her so happy to be given simple things like these. To be noticed and served with her preference makes her want to cry. She quickly wipes her glistened eyes, trying to stop herself from crying over a small thing.
Alastor was sitting across from her, his expression indescribable as he stares at her with that usual smile on his face. It seemed like that smile was permanently placed there as a punishment.
There was a moment of peaceful silence between them, and she thought that Alastor would leave her alone to go to his room and continue his nightly-reading book. Yet here he was, sitting quietly and savoring his coffee while giving all of his cookies to her. Yep. Though she felt guilty that the Radio Demon was giving all of them to her, she couldn’t stop herself from eating most of them because they were delicious.
Light and crunchy with a snap that melts in her mouth. A buttery flavor complimented with caramelized sugar, made with chipped nuts which added a depth to the aroma.
Charlie could only scream delicious in her heart. Delicious! Delicious! Delicious! Sorry, it had been a long time since she had eaten wonderful sweets without burning the entire kitchen or enduring the imbalanced ingredients that were either too salty, too sweet, or burnt to the point that she was forced to order take-out. The only one who cooks decently is Angel, his Italian cuisine is really great, but he rarely cooks because of his busy schedule. Alastor seldom cooks, with his Overlord activities, him being her —self-appointed —benefactor and host, and being Faculty Manager taking up most of his time.
“My dear Charlie, pardon my intrusion, but if you wouldn’t mind, might I ask you to share your troubles with me?” Alastor started.
Charlie was still in her seat and could only reply with a clumsy “What?”
“Well, I rarely see you awake at this hour, when everyone has already fallen asleep, even that effeminate spider who always comes home late. Your thoughts must have troubled you to keep you awake. Think of this as a good start to counselling; you can add it to your list of redemption activities to earn the trust of your future residents,” Alastor implored, his finger tracing the rim of his mug as he fixed her with a serious gaze.
Charlie contemplated on whether she wanted to tell Alastor or not, staring at her mug with pensiveness. Sure, she still doesn’t trust the Radio Demon, even though she’s given him a chance to be a part of her team to help sinners find their redemption. It’s just that she never shares her problems with anyone but her parents and Vaggi.
When she feels upset, she just hides and sulks in her room, needing space from everyone while she cries out all of her feelings. But Alastor was right, she must think of this as a therapy session. As counselling. It would be good practice for her and would help her to gain experience.
“So, it’s about Angel...” Charlie started, pausing because she didn’t know how to continue. Alastor waits patiently, letting her take her time, something that she really appreciates.
She continues, “Remember the fiasco with that Valetino guy and Angel’s situation?” She receives a hum as a reply from the Radio Demon, “Angel was angry at me, and I feel so bad about messing up. He was hurt because of me, and I couldn’t do anything to help him. I feel...so...useless. I just want to help, but as always, I keep messing up and ruining everything. All I can do is say sorry over and over, and...well, you get the gist. Like Valentino said, I don’t have to hold the power, even though I’m the Princess of Hell.” Charlie smiled in self-deprecation, tightening her hold of the mug. Awaiting the harsh judgment, mocking, reprimanding, or whatever else from the Radio Demon. She could fully accept it, even if it hurt.
“Your efforts were truly commendable. Few in Hell could claim to have a friend willing to fight for their honor. If I were to estimate the percentage of those who would, it would be...one percent. And you, my dear, are part of that one percent.” Alastor drawled, earning a look of surprise from her. “Add that to your atrocious kindness, your care for sinners, and your acceptance of sinners like us, and I must say—you are one of the most unique demons I have ever met. Let us be honest, dear princess, this is Hell, and every sinner here indulges in deviations that are despised by both Heaven and Hell alike.
“Oh...” Charlie’s eyes widened in surprise. She feels really, really warm. The genuine compliment from the Radio Demon made her feel...content? Gratified? Elated? Whatever. She’s happy. Very happy.
“Oh, don’t think that I believe sinners can truly be redeemed. I still hold my doubts, knowing how duplicitous humans can be,” Alastor hummed. “There are many sinners beyond saving, inevitably. Must I remind you, my dear, that is Hell, where sinners are punished for their crimes and deviations. Many have long since accepted their sins and continue to commit them to this day. There will never be a shortage of such beings.”
“We can keep trying! Even if the hotel is in ruins, we can still fix it, start from scratch, and keep helping sinners find redemption. I’m not stopping until everyone here is saved.” Charlie said determinedly.
Alastor was looking at her with a vague gaze, as if he were dissecting her like a rare species he happened to find from the deep forests of Hell. Fidgeting in her seat, she contemplates whether to end this discussion and go to sleep or wait for Alastor’s response. She doesn’t know which one. It would be rude to end it abruptly without hearing Alastor first.
“Well,” he began. Charlie braced herself, expecting unkind words but listening carefully, she must learn to accept criticism. “For one, your attempts come across as condescending. You disregard the boundaries of others, and your lack of understanding and respect for the diversity of individuals paints you as a self-righteous, holier-than-thou, arrogant, glass-bound-fool, a stuck-up, spoiled princess.”
Charlie flinches. Wow. That’s really a lot. Alastor really doesn’t mince his words.
He continues, “Everything you do or say highlights the differences in upbringing between you and our dear spider friend. Even after witnessing Valentino’s abuse of Anthony, you remain unaware of what he has endured. Quite frankly, you will never understand his situation. You never will.”
Charlie deflated, feeling guilt for her actions. Yeah, she really did fuck up, and Alastor was right about her. She could never do anything right, maybe this was why her friends —and even her parents—ignored her. Despite the fact that she was trying to fix everything, it always ends up being a mess that she has to clean up. It was embarrassing that she, a princess, a noble Hellborn, had to bow down her head to appease everyone. She could understand why no one respects her while she pretends to ignore the mocking stares and the disrespect. She just shamelessly keeps pushing herself towards others.
“Charlie, lift your head my dear. It is not fitting for a noble one like you to look like a sulking child. That is not how a leader should act,” Alastor said, his tone gentle despite his attempt at sternness, a nuance Charlie seemed to notice. “Take this as my advice, princess; you cannot change them easily. So, your first step is to listen to them with a nonjudgemental attitude. They will likely appreciate being heard far more than enduring your attempts at pandering or preaching redemption. Then, wait for them to approach you willingly in search of guidance, and you will see who is truly ready to change. Do not impose your beliefs, lest you drive them further away. No one wishes to be told that their way of life is wrong, or that they must conform to your expectations.”
“I—perhaps you are right, Alastor.” Charlie mumbles, amused to see how the Radio Demon preens.
“Of course, I’m always right.” He says.
“Is this how you were able to become such a successful deal-maker?" Charlie attempted to make it sound like a joke but failed. Too direct.
Alastor laughed, waving it off dismissively. “Oh no, no, no this one is quite different. If you were to ask our dear friend, Husk, he may very well disagree with you. I am hardly a good person, nor a gently one, dear princess. I could never bring myself to become some sentimental, foolish being.”
Charlie had dared to roll her eyes at him. Finally feeling comfortable around Alastor, she freely rambled about everything while he just listened patiently. He let her talk about everything, no matter how random. At times they joked around, she laughed at Alastor’s jokes and his outright distaste towards modern technologies. Then he started to gossip with her.
“Wait! She takes him back even though he cheated on her not once or twice—but multiple times, and they have ten kids?!” Charlie exclaimed.
“Yes, quite the idiot, isn’t she?” Alastor said dryly.
“Idiot? She’s more like uh,” trying to find the correct words without insulting the poor lady’s choices.
“A Simpleton?”
“She is making a terrible mistake! She shouldn’t let that cheater back into her life,” Charlie said with a sniff, “She needs to see her own worth and put herself first!”
Alastor simply chuckles. The two continuously gossip until both decide to depart to sleep. Before she returns to bed, she quickly gives Alastor a tight hug.
“Thanks.” She said.
Alastor tilted his head with a confusion marred on his brows. ”For what my dear?"
“For listening, and being honest to me. This is one of the best nights and I’ll cherish it forever.” Charlie said with a smile.
The man did not respond quickly, Charlie could see the bewilderment in his eyes but nonetheless she was very happy that she could finally converse with Alastor without feeling squeamish or awkward around him, or having to worry about what to say to him without insulting his preferences or life choices.
“Good night, Charlie.” He said as he gently patted her head before teleporting with his shadow back to his own room.
Charlie chuckles at his sudden shyness. The ill-famed Radio Demon, known as a ruthless, terrifying and calculating sadist could still be shy. She giddily returned to her room and slept contentedly beside a worried, newly-awakened Vaggie, to whom she explained where she had been before drifting off to sleep once more.
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Early that morning, Charlie and Angel had a heart-to-heart talk. She wanted to apologize to Angel for everything, for not being an understanding friend, and for failing to truly see his situation.
“Alright, alright...sorry for yellin’ at ya, toots. I ain’t mad at you for ruinin’ everything. I’m used to Val’s little episodes. He’s always pissy ‘cause his on-and-off-again lover still has a thing for Smiles. I was angry ‘cause ya walked straight into the wolf’s den. Val ain’t good news, and he insulted ya, princess. Indirectly, if ya know how to read between the lines, you’ll get exactly what he meant.” Angel explained apologetically, gently patting her head as he smiled softly.
Charlie realized just how deaf she had been for not listening to him, how she’d blindly imposed her ideals of redemption onto him without considering his reality.
“So...we’re good, right?” Charlie smiled wildly, though it looked more like a grimace.
“It’s really fine, princess. Ya did nothing wrong. This is Hell! Things like this will always happen.” Angel reassured her.
Charlie felt truly awful. Although she was older than Angel, he was the one comforting her, assuring her that everything was fine. She should have been the role model—the older sister who looked out for him. She hated the way that Angel dismissed his own pain, the way he disregarded the abuse and invalidated himself just because they were in Hell.
Is this what Alastor had meant? Everyone had different experiences, ones she hadn’t yet lived through. Aside from having neglectful but doting parents, sinners that didn’t respect her, and being casually offered a job as a pornstar by a moth demon. She still had so much to learn about the lives of sinners.
“Word of advice, princess, don’t bring Smiles up again on VoxTek. Val’s anger is ten times worse when it ain’t directed at you.” Angel said, his attention now focused on his phone screen.
“Why? Did Alastor do something to make them angry?” Charlie thought of Alastor and his pettiness. That demon could be cruel, delighting in mischief whenever he wanted to bully sinners for his own entertainment.
“Nah. It’s just that Smiles is so damn attractive that Vox still wants him, even though Val’s his soulmate. Really pisses the guy off. I mean, yeah, this is Hell, but a lotta us still got a lil’ bit of romance left in us. We’re still humans, after all.” Angel explained, gesturing towards his fluffy chest. Charlie noticed his eyes briefly dart to the grumpy cat demon arranging bottles of alcohol behind the bar.
“So, uh...Val’s boyfriend has a thing for Alastor?” Charlie asked, her curiosity about Alastor’s life before the hotel stirring. She didn’t know why, but she wanted to know more about him.
“Ya dunno? Everyone in the Pentagram knew about Mr. Fancy-Talk-Creepy-Voice and Vox’s history. The two were supposed to be a duo before they broke up.” Angel pulled Charlie closer. “C’mon, lemme tell ya everything I’ve heard from my colleagues, especially from Val.”
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“So, you and Vox being...exes?”
A burst of loud, angry radio static erupted—wet, distorted, and disgusted, like a cat hacking up a furball—making Charlie cover her ears.
“Now, pray tell, just where in the Heavens did you hear that?” Alastor drawled, a single brow arching in thin irritation.
Charlie laughed nervously, “Well, I heard from,” she paused, her voice as soft as a child’s, “...people?”
Alastor rolled his eyes, plainly unimpressed by her attempt to lie and shield the one who had fed her misinformation.
“Evidently, they were both correct and yet entirely mistaken,” he said coolly. “They were correct in assuming that the Picture Box Demon and I were once accustomed to a certain familiarity.” He shot Charlie a sharp look as she was about to speak, her little finger lifting just slightly. “But do not mistake it for the sentimental nonsense you all seem so fond of imagining. He was—at best—a passing amusement, something to occupy my time when boredom came calling. The poor fool fancied us equals, or something near enough, when his tacky ideals don’t even grasp the true form of art.”
They shared their late-night snacks alone, with no one else around, which she had come to realize was what Alastor preferred—spending time alone in the hotel. It had become their routine, gossiping like old ladies, having idle conversations, or Charlie rambling on whilst Alastor listened in quiet amusement.
Charlie had never felt so serene in peaceful moments that she badly needed (aside from her girlfriend, Vaggi gave unwavering support in everything she did.) This was something she had always wanted in her life, to be able to converse with sinners without having to fend off their advances, without them trying to use her name to gain connections or hoping to drag her to bed just to boast about it to their peers. Without having to endure mocking sneers or being spat on every time she tried to befriend them.
Thankfully, she had met sinners who may or may not support her dream of helping others find redemption. Alastor was one of them. Despite his attempts to hide it, he was genuinely curious about the possibility. Boredom was certainly one of his reasons, and he could leave the Hazbin Hotel freely whenever it ceased to amuse or benefit him. Yet, the fact that he stayed gave Charlie her answer.
She does hope that Alastor will stay in the Hazbin Hotel with everyone. With her.
“A penny for your thoughts, my dear?”
Charlie snapped back to attention, letting out a small squeak before asking, “What?”
“Your thoughts are far too loud; I can hear the very clatter of the machines whirring inside that charming little head of yours,” Alastor remarked, his finger tapping lightly against his temple.
“I—...well...” Charlie said, gripping the mug tightly and biting her lower lip in thought. She wasn’t sure if Alastor would like it or not. The man clearly didn’t enjoy sharing—or reciprocating—sentimental feelings with others.
“I am well aware, my dear, speaking of redemption, aiding poor, lowly souls is your forte. Perhaps you’re akin to an open book. But tell me, how is it that you cannot speak your thoughts to me?” Alastor mused, his crimson eyes settling upon Charlie with a gaze both contemplative and discerning.
Charlie let out a deep breath and began, “I know it's been five months since you’ve arrived at the hotel. You’ve done a great job helping us fix it and get the word out...you’re not as bad as people make you out to be.”
Alastor arched a brow.
She continues, waving her hand with flair, “Well, many keep saying that you’re evil? Scary? A crazy cannibal?”
Charlie smiled when Alastor let out an inelegant snort.
“They are not entirely mistaken in that regard.”
Charlie rolled her eyes. Obviously, the man would enjoy hearing titles that emphasized evilness.
“It’s just that...I was hoping that you would stay in the hotel...maybe forever...” Charlie said softly, her gaze dropping to the now-cold coffee as her thumb caressed the mug’s smooth surface.
An awkward silence stretched between them. Charlie fidgeted in her seat, wishing that one of them would just leave.
“Charlie...” Alastor began, she braced herself for rejection. Perhaps it would be better than hearing him laugh in her face or call her childish.
He continued, his tone calm but carrying a harsh truth, “I am not your family, and I am not one of your friends either. I am also not your teacher, nor someone you could call a loved one.”
“Y-yeah.” Charlie replied weakly.
“We are, how shall I put it...very unique partners.”
Charlie blinked at Alastor, trying to comprehend whether or not she had misheard him.
“Does that mean...?” Charlie forced herself not to get her hopes up, afraid of being disappointed in the end.
“I shall remain, whenever you wish me to.” Alastor murmured, a trace of begrudging fondness lacing his words.
Charlie flashed him a wide smile and immediately hugged him from across the table, causing their mugs to clash and their plates to nearly fall—saved only by Alastor’s quick tendrils. She was overjoyed that the Overlord was willing to stay for her sake. She knew he hadn’t lied.
One thing she was truly thankful for about being her father’s daughter, was the ability to know what was true and what was false.
This time Alastor stayed, gently patting her back.