Chapter 11: Final Past Part 1

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Day ???

She lay there on the couch, cloaked in the eerie darkness of the night, her body convulsing violently with every horrifying scene that unfolded in her dream. Her brow furrowed deeply, etched lines of distress making a mark as she whimpered softly.

The cruel and haunting memory was an endless loop, every detail vividly painted on the canvas of her mind. There she was, once a powerful warrior of heaven, now fallen from grace.

Vaggie

Her radiant wings, soaked in sheer golden light, were now tarnished with the dread of what she'd become. The angelic chorus that once welcomed her into divine arms was replaced by a sinister silence that echoed the haunting emptiness within.

The lofty altitudes of heaven loomed above, a surreal ballet of never-ending azure skies and swirling clouds of white. Her heart pounded as she felt herself ascend, her once resplendent wings straining under the weight of the sins that surged through her veins. However, this ascent was not one of glory, but rather a prelude to an unthinkable fall.

She felt a sudden presence behind her causing her to turn around.

The fallen angel's eyes widened in horror as she saw Lute, no longer her loving sister but now a merciless foe. Her once gentle face was now twisted into a mask of pure hatred, her eyes blazing with an intense fire that chilled the angel to her core.

Vaggie

Her captain struck with a savage force, her angelic sword piercing through her eye and slashing through the ethereal veil that shielded her.

She fell to the ground with a pain-filled scream, her hand clutching her now empty eye socket as golden blood gushed into her hand.

In the next moment, she felt a sickening tug at her back. Her eye widened in horror as she sensed Lute hovering behind her, gripping her wings with a painful grip. With no mercy, Lute slowly tore the once beautiful appendages that signified her celestial stature.

Pain ripped through her like molten fire as her glorious wings were torn away from her back. Her blood-curdled screams echoed into the vast heavens, silenced only by her choked sobs. Her radiant light flickered and dimmed, replaced by darkness as dense as obsidian. The angelic harmony once associated with divine ascension turned into discordant dirges, underscoring her descent into des

The echo of silence that followed was worse than any physical torment. The absence of her wings brought forth an emptiness that gnawed at her soul, a constant reminder of what she once had and what had been so mercilessly taken from her.

She plummeted from the celestial heights towards the unforgiving fire below.

Vaggie!

The cry of her name jerked her back into the terrifying reality that lingered beneath her closed lids. She awoke with an abrupt start, her body convulsing as she was thrashed back into existence, eyes wide open in terror.

The room around her was still shrouded in darkness, the only light seeping in coming from the gate of heaven, casting eerie shadows across the floor and walls. She felt her heart pounding fiercely against her rib cage, each frantic beat reverberating through her skull. Her hands instinctively reached for the absence of wings, clutching only air.

"Vaggie!" The voice called again, it was Alastor's voice, comforting and familiar in the midst of her chaotic mind. He was there beside her, seated on the edge of the couch now. He offered a steadying hand on her trembling shoulder.

"Easy now, angel" he murmured softly, his warm red eyes meeting hers, filled with concern. "You're safe."

His voice rippled through the room like soft velvet, easing away some of Vaggie's panic. A lump formed at the back of her throat as she fought back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Alastor... I--" Vaggie began, her voice a choked whisper against the pervasive silence. Her throat felt dry and sore, her voice no more than an echo of its normal strength. But Alastor merely hushed her softly, his crimson eyes reflecting understanding.

"It's alright," Alastor reassured her, his voice like a balm against her raw nerves. His gaze descended to where her hand clutched at the void left by her wings, his dark eyebrows furrowing. "Everything's fine."

Vaggie could only nod, fresh tears welling in her remaining eye as she fought the lump rising in her throat. She clung tightly to Alastor's arm, her nails digging into his skin. He didn't wince, instead, he stroked her hair soothingly, his gaze never leaving her.

His words were a steadying rhythm in the storm, offering her the first sense of calm since she'd slipped into the nightmare.

"Alastor... my wings," she stammered, tears trickling down her pale face. "I feel... empty."

"…" He tenderly cupped her face, brushing away the tears with his thumb. The look in his eyes was one of empathy.

The fallen angel leaned into his touch, drawing comfort from him. Her breath hitched as she tried to pull herself together, her trembling hand reaching out to meet Alastor's.

"Thank you..." she managed to mumble between her hiccups.

Alastor nodded in understanding, gently pulling her towards him and wrapping his arms around her.

"Of course, darling," he replied, his voice steady as the comforting hum of a lullaby, the strength in his embrace speaking volumes to her. As she rested her head on his chest, she could hear his heart beating steadily - a reassurance of life amidst the aftermath of her haunting dream.

Vaggie closed her eye, taking comfort in Alastor's presence. His scent was familiar, a mix of autumn leaves and a subtle hint of spice that made her feel somehow grounded. It was a stark contrast to the heavenly fragrances she used to know, but it felt like home now.

She rested in his arms for a long while, each heartbeat easing her tattered nerves and silent sobs subsiding into gentle sniffles. His calm demeanor was like an anchor, keeping her from being swept away in the tide of her torment.

The room was silent save for their shared breathing, the faint crackle of the fireplace bearing a soothing rhythm. Her grip on his shirt relaxed as her body slowly uncoiled from the tension. She allowed herself to sink deeper into his chest, drawing comfort and solace from his steady presence.

"Alastor?" she ventured after what seemed like an eternity, her voice barely more than a hushed whisper against the soft fabric of his shirt.

"Mmm?" he hummed in response, his fingers tracing idle patterns across her back.

"I'm... I'm grateful. For you." Vaggie confessed, her words muffled by his shirt but the sincerity ringing clear in her tone. She didn't need to see his face to know that he understood.

Alastor's chest rumbled with a quiet laugh.

"Always so formal, aren't we?" he murmured, his voice carrying a note of amusement. He tightened his hold on her slightly, his fingers pressing comfortably against the small of her back. "You don't need to thank me, Vaggie."

"But I..." she started, but he interrupted her with a gentle shush.

"There's no need for thanks between us," he said softly.

His words seemed to hang in the air between them, a comforting blanket in the otherwise quiet room.

Vaggie lifted her head, looking up at Alastor. His red eyes were soft, the corners creased with a genuine smile. In that moment, she saw not the feared Radio demon of Hell, but Alastor who has been nothing but good to her.

She nodded slowly, placing her cheek back on his chest. He was right. There was an unspoken understanding between them that required no formalities, no thanks or apologies. It was simply there, as solid and tangible as the man whose arms held her so tenderly.

"…I don't think I can fall asleep again…"

Alastor's gaze softened even further as he looked down at the angel cuddled against him. The light from the flickering fireplace danced across her face, casting shadows and bathing her in a warm glow.

"Vaggie," he whispered gently to interrupt the silence that surrounded them.

She hummed in response as she tilted her head upwards to look at him.

"Would you like to dance?"

It was an unexpected request but one that didn't seem entirely out of place for him. Surprised yet intrigued, Vaggie nodded, allowing Alastor to guide her up from their comfortable position on the couch.

The demon looked over towards the radio sitting on the mantel, and with a wave of his hand, soft music began to play. The melancholic notes floated through the room, bringing an intimate atmosphere that seemed to swallow up her past fears.

~Stars shinin' bright above you~

He extended his hand towards her, his eyes glinting with an unspoken invitation. Vaggie placed her hand in his, feeling the warmth seeping from his palm into hers. Alastor pulled her closer, setting one of his hands carefully on her waist while entwining his other with hers.

"I'm not a good dancer," she admitted shyly, bracing herself for a teasing response. But Alastor only smiled softly, unbeknownst warmth radiating from him.

"Just follow my lead, darling~" he said simply.

~Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you"~

They began to sway to the rhythm of the music, and Vaggie found that she didn't mind dancing as much as she thought she would. Her initial awkwardness faded away as she began to trust Alastor's gentle guidance. Even without wings, as they were dancing around the room, she felt like they were floating.

~Birds singin' in the sycamore tree~

The shadows cast by the flickering fireplace flitted around them, seeming to dance along with them. Vaggie rested her head on Alastor's shoulder, closing her eyes and letting the soft melodies wash over her.

~Dream a little dream of me~

As the melody continued, her body relaxed completely into Alastor's steady embrace. His touch was comforting to her soul, and as they danced around the room, she found herself completely lost in the moment.

Memories of her time spent together with him began to resurface, turning in her mind like vignettes of a silent film. The sight of him laughing at Tommy when he made a silly mistake, the way his eyes would light up when stumbling upon a new recipe, the warmth that enveloped her whenever he'd pull her into an unexpected embrace.

Each memory was a snapshot of their shared time together, painting a picture of a relationship that was as complex as it was simple.

~Say nighty-night and kiss me~

The room melted away, replaced by a world of their own created by the soft music and the steady rhythm of their hearts. She felt his lips gently brush against her forehead, a soft kiss that sent warmth spreading through her limbs.

"Je suis tombé amoureux de toi," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He cradled her close as they swayed to the lullaby, his hand never leaving hers. His fingers gently squeezed hers, offering silent reassurance.

She nodded against his shoulder, not exactly sure what he said, sighing softly as she let go of all her worries and fears. His steady heartbeat echoed in her ears - rhythmic and soothing - lulling her into a sense of calm.

~Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me~

Alastor's arm tightened around her waist ever so slightly pulling her even closer. She moved with him in perfect sync, matching his rhythm as if they were one. As each note of the song washed over them, she could feel herself being pulled further into a peaceful reverie.

~While I'm alone and blue as can be~

His whispers blended with the music, creating a symphony that seemed to drown out the rest of the world. Vaggie's heart pounded in rhythm with his, their movements mirroring one another's as they swayed in the quiet room.

~Dream a little dream of me~

Suddenly, the music softened, a serene lullaby stretching out into the silence. Alastor held her a little closer, his hand steady against her back while his other remained clasped with hers. She could feel the vibration of his voice as he started humming along gently, adding another layer to their private serenade.

As the song slowly came to an end, Alastor's movements gradually slowed, until they were just swaying gently in place. After a moment of silence, Alastor released her hand and softly brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

The angel blushed at his touch, her eyes meeting his. For a second, she found herself lost in those depths, shimmering with emotion she couldn't quite name but felt down to her very core.

Alastor's gaze lingered on her lips.

A faint shroud of silence fell over them, drowning out the last echoes of the song. The intimacy was almost palpable in the space between their bodies, pushing away all thoughts of reality as they learned about one another unconsciously.

The air crackled with anticipation, each breath they took amplifying the tension around them as they inched closer together. Her heartbeat echoed loud in her chest, matching rhythm with his in an orchestrated symphony of emotions.

His thumb gently caressed her blushing cheek as he leaned in, his breath mingling with hers. The world outside ceased to exist as their hearts pounded in unison. Alastor's gaze never wavered from her lips, a soft yet profound desire reflected in his eyes.

"Vaggie," he murmured, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down her spine. His words lingered in the stillness, a sweet invocation of her name that hung delicately in the air.

"Alastor," she whispered back, her voice barely audible even to herself. She drew a shaky breath, closing her eyes in anticipation. With her pulse echoing loud in her ears and the tension mounting between them, she leaned towards him...

…

…

…

Just as their lips were about to meet in a kiss, their peaceful world was shattered by the sound of something small and energetic crashing into the room. The door burst open with a bang that echoed through the once quiet room, startling them apart.

"Al! Vaggie!" a high-pitched voice suddenly echoed through the room just as their eyes fluttered shut in anticipation. The dreamy bubble they'd created was abruptly popped by the little boy bursting into the room.

They both jerked back at once, a surprised blush flushing their cheeks as they quickly put distance between themselves. Alastor cleared his throat awkwardly and straightened his clothes while Vaggie turned to welcome the little intruder with an embarrassed smile.

"Tommy!" she said, her voice shaking slightly from the sudden interruption.

"Are you two playing a game?" Tommy asked, his eyes wide with innocent curiosity as he looked up at them both.

"N-No," she said, ruffling his hair affectionately. "We were just...dancing."

"Dancing!" Tommy's face lit up at the word. "I want to dance too!"

As they tried to calm the excited child down, Lilly soon entered the room, a half-annoyed, half-amused expression on her face.

"Tommy", she chided gently, "Didn't I say not to disturb them?"

"But they were dancing, Lilly! I wanna dance too!" Tommy exclaimed, his bright eyes sparkling with excitement.

Lilly sighed softly, exchanging a glance with the flustered couple. She clearly understood the situation and offered them a subtle apologetic smile.

"Alright," she said finally, extending a hand towards Tommy. "Let's not bother them anymore. We'll have our own dance in the other room before we go to sleep."

"Yay!"

With one last excited wave at Vaggie and Alastor, Tommy took Lilly's hand and scampered out of the room, leaving them alone once again.

As the door closed behind them, they found themselves in silence once more - but it was different now. The quiet was no longer intimate.

"I-I should go." Vaggie stammered, rushing towards the door.

"Vaggie..." Alastor reached out to her, but she was already moving away. He watched her go, an unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in his chest.

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"Welcome, Hell sovereign overlords." Carmilla Carmine, another one of hell's overlords, greeted everyone in the room who decided to come to the meeting. "Thank you for joining today's meeting."

Perched upon an ornate, high-backed chair at the head of the opulent meeting room, she exuded power and authority. Her piercing, crimson eyes swept over the assembled group with a cool intensity. Her eyes soon landed on one sinner in particular who was humming a song to himself.

"Alastor?" She asked out loud, surprised to see the elusive demon joining them. "I see you decided to join us."

Alastor looked up, meeting Carmilla's gaze with a half-smirk playing on his lips.

"Yes, well," he drawled, his voice rich and honeyed, "I thought it might do me some good to mingle with the common folk, in order to clear my mind and all that."

He tipped an imaginary hat in Carmilla's direction, earning a few chuckles from the assembled crowd. Carmilla's icy gaze didn't falter though she acknowledged his jest with a glare.

"Very well," she cleared her throat to regain everyone's attention before stating, "Let us move on to discussing our agenda for today."

The room fell silent as she began to detail the damages and losses of this year's extermination day.

Meanwhile, Alastor found his thoughts wandering elsewhere and not at all paying attention to what she was saying. Images of Vaggie flashed in his mind - her blush when he held her close, her wide eyes filled with anticipation just moments before they were interrupted. His hand instinctively reached up to brush against his lips as he remembered how close they had been to sharing a stolen kiss.

"What's gotten you so lost in thought Al?"

He was soon interrupted from his thoughts by the person sitting beside him, bringing his attention to them. The overlord beside him has the body of a man and the head of a TV screen.

"It's nothing, Vox," Alastor replied, brushing off the inquiry with a nonchalant wave of his hand. The mention of his name was enough to pull him back into the moment, to the lofty room filled with Hell's most prominent figures.

Vox cocked an eyebrow skeptically at his dismissive response but decided not to press any further.

However, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was different about Alastor. There was a far-off look in his eyes and a certain restlessness about him that marked a stark contrast to his usual devil-may-care demeanor.

As the meeting came to an end, Alastor stood up from his chair and made to leave the room, his mind still stuck on Vaggie. The grandiose hallways, adorned with gothic decor, seemed to echo his mood as he trod through them.

"Alastor," Vox appeared at his side again, his voice seeping through the static of his television screenhead. "Whatever is bothering you...it's clearly affecting your mood. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."

Alastor turned his gaze towards Vox, the crimson glow in his eyes dimming somewhat as he regarded him.

"I appreciate your concern my good man, but it's nothing to worry about! I simply have something

to attend to. A personal matter, if you will," Alastor replied his tone light but with a certain finality.

Vox blinked, the static on his screen flickering for a moment before he finally nodded.

"Well, if you're sure. Just remember my offer still stands." Vox said, his digitized voice holding a note of concern.

He watched as Alastor turned away from him, ready to continue down the grand hallway and return home.

"Hey, Al!" Vox yelled out before he could stop himself, causing the taller demon to pause in his steps.

The hallway suddenly seemed too large and daunting, like a gaping maw ready to swallow him whole. But he had already taken the leap and now there was no turning back.

"B-Before you go I-I have something to a-ask you for a while now." He managed to utter before static overwhelmed his screen for a moment as if representing his inner turmoil. "Something that I've been trying to ask ever since I sorted through my emotions."

Alastor turned back towards him, one of his eyebrows raised curiously over his glowing red eye.

"And what might that be?" His tone was one of curiosity, yet also an undercurrent of bemusement that made Vox's nerves jangle.

"Well...I..." Vox scrambled for words that wouldn't come. His screen flickered with static, his feelings manifesting in the visual display. "I...well I've been thinking..."

He swallowed hard; a pointless gesture given his form but one born out of deep-seated nerves.

Alastor waited patiently, an unusual silence falling over him. The tension was palpable in the hallway, casting long shadows throughout the ornate decor.

Finally, Vox gathered himself and spat it out, "Would you... would you consider going out... on a date... with me?"

The echo of his words seemingly hung in the air. Alastor stood silent, the red light of his eyes illuminating Vox's face in an eerie glow.

For a moment that felt like an eternity, Alastor's silence permeated the room. A deep, heavy quiet weighed upon Vox, pressing against him like a tangible force.

Then, the corner of Alastor's mouth curved into a slow grin—a smile that didn't reach his eyes but danced upon his lips with a dangerous amusement. He took a step forward, causing Vox to shrink back. The long shadows on the walls seemed to come alive, shifting and elongating as if in response to Alastor's mood.

"Vox," his voice was like velvet—smooth and rich yet holding an edge of danger underneath. "While I do appreciate your... candor."

His tone was laced heavily with sarcasm as he paused, seemingly reveling in the discomfort of the other as they waited for his answer.

"However," he continued slowly, deliberately drawing out each syllable and letting it linger in the air between them. "I cannot entertain your offer."

The rejection hit Vox harder than he had expected. It was like a glitch in his system - a sudden unexpected surge of pain and confusion that made his screen flicker violently with static, symbols of brokenhearted emojis unintentionally flashing across his screen.

Alastor stepped back, his grin never leaving his face as he watched Vox's reaction with an odd mixture of curiosity and mild amusement. His red eyes flickered in the dim light as if enjoying the spectacle before him.

"You see Vox," he said softly after a moment, breaking the silence that had once again fallen over them. "I have already found someone who holds my interest~"

The words echoed in Vox's mind - cruel and brutal in their simplicity. His screen flickered again, this time with images of shattered hearts and tear-streaked emojis conveying his profound hurt.

"And even if I didn't," Alastor continued unabated, "I doubt it would be with someone like you."

The finality in Alastor's words cut through Vox like a sharp knife. He stood rooted to his spot, unable to move or say a word. Alastor turned his back on him once again, walking away in the hall and leaving Vox alone with the echo of his rejection painfully ringing in his ears.

As he stood there, immobile in his devastation, the world around him seemed to blur and dull. The harsh reality of Alastor's words replayed in his head, each syllable a stab that re-opened the wound and bled him dry of his composure.

His screen continued to flicker uncontrollably, projecting images of his inner turmoil to anyone who might come across him. The hallway was suddenly darker than it had been before. The long shadows that danced on the walls now felt unfriendly and cold.

There was only him and the void; a void that was left by Alastor's cruel dismissal.

It was then that she materialized from the darkness; her form so fleeting it could have been mistaken for a trick of light. But she was there - a shadowy figure with her silhouette mirroring that of a woman.

A dangerous aura surrounded her, an overwhelming sense of commanding power that would make anyone, even the most powerful, shiver. Her eyes were hooded, filled with an uncanny calmness that contradicted the raw malevolence that radiated from her.

She moved like liquid night, her form hardly disturbing the surrounding air as she glided toward him. The soft rustle of her ethereal gown sounded like a haunting melody.

She began whispering to him, playing to his anger and hurt.

Her sweet voice consumed him, creeping into every corner of his mind and seizing control. She preyed on his emotional fragility, luring him in with sweet promises before twisting him to her will. A sinister smile, stretching unnaturally wide, split her face as she reveled in the power of his submission. The grip of her control tightened around him, pulling him deeper into her dark grasp.

"Soon you will be mine Alastor…"

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Alastor was in the kitchen cooking alongside Vaggie. He was amongst the clattering of pots and pans, as the enticing scent of roasting meats and simmering sauces filling his nostrils. His typically maniacal grin softened into a contented smile as he focused on the task before him.

"What has gotten you so happy, smiles?"

"Oh nothing, just excited for tonight~"

Vaggie was at his side, a vision of grace and composure. She was relaxed, her eyes filled with a warm light as she assisted Alastor in his culinary endeavors. Her fingers danced over the vegetables with ease, effortlessly chopping them into perfect precision. She occasionally looked over at Alastor, her sternness replaced with gentle laughter at his silly antics.

"Oh? And what's so special about tonight?" She couldn't help but ask him while putting away the diced garlic to the side.

"You'll have to wait and see darling~!"

She glared at him playfully, lightly swatting his arm with a dishcloth. Alastor chuckled in response, flipping the meat on the stove with an expert flick of his wrist. His eyes were bright, catching the light in a way that made them seem more alive.

Tommy and Lilly were also present, helping them by getting the ingredients they needed ready. The little boy was over by the stove, his eyes wide with fascination as he watched the water start to boil, waiting for the right time to put the ingredients in. Lilly was watching nearby, pealing the onions while watching him.

Alastor was in his element as he cooked. The sound of sizzling meat filled the room with a divine symphony that made him hum in delight. He twirled around in pure merriment, stirring in spices and herbs with exaggerated flourishes.

But somewhere amidst this domestic tableau, Alastor felt it - an inkling, an inexplicable instinct that something wasn't right. His movements slowed as he tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if trying to decipher an invisible puzzle.

His red eyes narrowed as he moved over to Tommy and plucked something out of the air. The boy looked up at him, wondering what he was doing.

"What are you doing Mr. Alastor?" He asked innocently.

"Just catching a fly, my boy," Alastor replied cheerfully, as his hand closed around the invisible arrow that had been aimed at the boy's head. The gesture was so smoothly executed, that nobody would ever have suspected the real nature of what he had done.

His fingers tightened around the shaft of the ethereal projectile as it began struggling to get out of his hold, crushing it with an unbelievable force.

Vaggie turned to give him a quizzical look. "A fly? They actually exist in hell?"

She queried, raising her eyebrows in skeptical amusement. But before she could delve further into it, Alastor distracted her with a brilliant smile and deftly lit a steak on fire.

"Unpredictable little creatures they are," he said with a chuckle, He then discarded the remnants of the arrow discreetly and continued cooking as if nothing had happened.

However, what he was feeling on the inside was pure unbridled rage.

The laughter and playful banter continued around him, but Alastor's mind was elsewhere. His thoughts were a whirlwind of anger, suspicion, and protective instincts. Whoever it was that dared to harm his family, whoever dared to trespass on his territory, would face the wrath of the Radio Demon.

Shaking his head as if to clear away the turbulence of his thoughts, Alastor turned back to the stove. A wicked smile danced on his lips, mischief twinkling in his eyes. With a deliberate casualness, he announced, "Oh, I almost forgot! I'm missing some important spices for tonight's dinner! How silly of me~"

Vaggie cast him a curious glance. "Are you sure? Didn't you say we have everything we need"?"

"Quite certain, my dear," Alastor responded breezily. "Wouldn't want our dinner to be anything less than perfect now, would we?"

With that, he handed over the cooking utensils to Vaggie who accepted them with a mildly bemused smile with a hint of suspicion. Alastor made his way towards the doorway then and paused just long enough to tousle Tommy's hair affectionately.

"No peeking into the pot now," he said playfully, winking at the little boy who giggled in response.

Once outside the warm precincts of their home, Alastor's playful demeanor faded away like a ghost at dawn; replaced with an icy glare that would strike fear in the heart of even the most hardened beings of hell.

His eyes scanned the surroundings with hawk-like precision. The stench of outsider hung in the air - it was faint but unmistakable.

The bastard had run away with their tail between their legs.

A flare of anger surged through him again, but he quelled it with practiced ease. An angry predator was a sloppy predator.

With a swift and purposeful gait, Alastor moved away from the house, his figure blending seamlessly into the surrounding shadows. His red eyes, the only indication of his presence, glowed with a sinister light. His senses were heightened, ears tuned to the faintest of sounds, eyes picking out the slightest movement. He prowled around like a predator on the hunt, his mind focused on one task - to seek out and eliminate the miscreant.

Silently, he moved through dark alleys and empty streets, following the faint trail left by the attacker. The scent was growing stronger now; a musky smell that was foreign to these parts of hell. It was becoming clear that this wasn't an act perpetrated by any random miscreant but rather a deliberate attempt.

In a remote corner of town where the buildings leaned together like drunken comrades and shadows congregated in silent conspiracies, Alastor halted. The scent was strongest here. His gaze roved over the ramshackle buildings and narrow passageways before landing on a dilapidated warehouse at the far end of the street.

A smirk curled at his lips as he began closing in on it. His approach was soundless, not even the crunching of gravel underfoot could be heard. He drew closer to the warehouse, every instinct alert and ready for what lay ahead.

Finally reaching its entrance, Alastor pushed open its creaking door with a flick of his wrist. The warehouse was shrouded in darkness, save for the meager light that trickled in through the blinking ceiling lights.

As he stepped inside, dust particles danced in the air, tickling his nose with an unpleasantly familiar odor. The scene before him was in utter disarray. Broken crates and tattered pieces of cloth lay strewn across the floor, hinting at a struggle.

In the middle of it all were four demons waiting for him to arrive, Alastor paid no attention to their appearance. After all, why would anyone bother to remember a corpse?

What he focused on was the weapons they held in their hands and when his eyes landed on one holding a bow with an arrow similar to the one that had launched that ethereal arrow, Alastor's lips stretched into a wicked grin. His red eyes blazed with an infernal light as he strode closer.

"Well, well," he purred, his voice echoing ominously in the vast space of the warehouse. "You must be the pests that've been buzzing around my home."

The four demons, intimidating by any other standard, were all bristling with arrogance, glowing eyes meeting Alastor's gaze with a defiance that was as foolish as it was futile. One of them, the largest and presumably the leader of this pitiful gang, stepped forward with an imposing swagger. His distorted face twisted into a grotesque grin, revealing rows of sharp teeth.

"Radio Demon" he breathed out heavily, spewing foul-smelling smoke through needle-thin nostrils. "Your reign ends here, bitch!"

A collective growl of agreement rose from the other three. All different but equally terrible to behold—fangs glinting in unkind smiles, claws sharp as razors, bodies twisted into parodies of their former selves.

A ripple of amusement ran through Alastor. His laughter echoed hauntingly within the confined space, lending an eerie aura to the already grim scene.

"Do you know," he began, his voice low and menacing, "how many demons have stood where you stand now? How many have declared my reign over, only to find themselves on their knees with their intestines spilling on the floor begging for mercy?"

He paused and chuckled darkly as he sauntered closer. The warehouse seemed to shrink around them all as Alastor's presence dominated it.

"Over a thousand," he purred, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "A thousand testaments to my power and strength. Do you think you four will be any different?"

The leader of the demons curled his lips into a snarl, his clawed hand tightening around the haft of his weapon.

"We're not like the others!" he growled, his voice echoing through the warehouse. "We're stronger! We're smarter! Each one of us as strong as one of you fucking overlord!!!"

Alastor laughed again, a sound as chilling as winter wind howling through a graveyard. "Oh, really?"

He cooed, stopping mere inches away from the leader. He raised a hand to stroke the demon's head, causing it to flinch away from him. His grin broadened at this reaction.

"I've heard that before as well," he said dismissively. "And yet here I am, while they are nothing but dust in the wind."

The demon under his gaze growled lowly, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation. But Alastor was not done yet.

"And you truly believe that your pathetic powers can stand against mine? Fascinating." As he spoke, his smirk widened, revealing the glimmering row of flawless teeth beneath. His eyes shone brighter with an intensity that would make the sun hide in shame.

The demons snarled at his mockery, their faces twisting in fury. One of them, a monstrous creature with scales covering its entire form, broke formation and charged at Alastor.

"No more talk!" it roared, swinging a massive, sharp claw towards him. The motion was swift and deadly for any normal being, but Alastor was far from normal. He leisurely sidestepped the attack effortlessly, an amused chuckle resonating in his throat.

"Such impatience," he drawled, "is not very becoming."

His eyes flickered to the other three demons who watched with gaping mouths at the sight of their fastest member being outpaced. He continued walking around them leisurely - predator sizing up his prey.

The demon he had evaded regrouped with the others whilst maintaining a wary eye on Alastor. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on him. Here they were four versus one, yet they were the ones feeling cornered.

A new silence permeated through the warehouse as Alastor took a step back and clasped his hands behind him. He then tilted his head slightly to one side as if observing an interesting specimen and spoke again.

"Let's get on with it, shall we? I have a lovely dinner to go back to~" His words echoed ominously in the silent warehouse, followed by his signature chilling laughter. Alastor's cryptic confidence seemed to unnerve the demons, but they maintained their defiant stance.

The leader of the group stepped forward again with a newfound will to fight. He raised his weapon, a giant spiked club, high above his grotesque head and let out a growl that shook the very foundations of the warehouse. The other demons followed suit, their roars combining into a deafening crescendo of defiance.

"You're full of shit, Alastor!" the leader spat out. His defiance was fierce but it was clear to see the seeds of doubt were already sown in his mind.

Alastor watched them run towards him, his smirk never faltering.

The scaled demon from before was the one who lost patience again. With a fearsome roar, it lunged forward once more. This time however Alastor didn't sidestep the attack. Instead, he quickly drew a bloody red radio staff from thin air and blocked the incoming attack with his own leading to an almighty clash.

The scaled beast stumbled back under the recoil but recovered quickly, spinning its tail to catch Alastor off balance.

But Alastor stood unyielding, his grip on his staff steady as a mountain. With a casual swing of his staff, he deflected the tail and knocked it to the side, while his other hand delivered a powerful blow to the demon's side. A sickening crunch echoed through the warehouse as the creature was thrown back into its companions.

It roared in agony as its scales shattered under the force of the attack, blood spraying from the wound in a shower of crimson.

"Your turn~!" Alastor sang out merrily, gesturing for the next demon to attack. His eyes were animated with an awful glee as they danced from one monster to another, waiting for them to make their move.

In moments he was surrounded by the three other demons swarming him from all sides. But Alastor moved with a fluid elegance that belied his innate power. He parried an axe swipe from one, jabbed his staff into another, and dodged an arrow aimed right at his heart without missing a beat.

"How the fuck did he dodge my arrows?!" the one with the bow shouted out in confusion and fear.

"FUCK YOU! YOU SMILING BITCH!!!"

The leader of the demons roared in frustration and swung his club towards Alastor's head, but he simply ducked under the arcing swing. In one fluid motion, he twisted around and drove his staff into the demon's gut. The demon gasped in shock and pain as Alastor twisted the weapon with a manic grin.

"Is this all you've got?" He taunted as he drove his staff in deeper with a wet squelching sound. "HAHA! How impressively pathetic!"

The demon leader staggered back, clutching his belly that had been pierced by Alastor while his minions stood beside him struggling to recollect themselves. The gruesome sight sent shivers down their spine making them apprehend their grim fate approaching fast - death by Alastor.

"And here I thought you were different," Alastor sighed dramatically, twirling his radio staff elegantly in one hand. "But I guess it's not much of a surprise, like all before you. you are nothing more than insects waiting to be crushed."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!"

The reptilian demon roared out as he opened his massive jaw, aiming to bite the overlord's head clean off his shoulders. But unfortunately for him, Alastor simply leaped backward, vanishing from the creature's line of attack. The demon snapped its jaws together, catching nothing but air.

Using his other end of his staff as a spear he stabbed it into the demon's tail and into the concrete floor, effectively pinning the beast in place.

"AARRRHHH!!!!"

The demon howled in agony, thrashing and clawing desperately at the staff embedded in its tail. It was a pathetic sight, and Alastor reveled in it with gleeful malice.

"Now, now," he tutted, forcefully grabbing the demon's neck with a terrifying force. "Such tantrums aren't very becoming."

The sinner grabbed his hand and tried to desperately with claws sharp enough to tear through steel, gouging at the radio demon's hand to pry him loose.

But Alastor's grip was like iron. His own nails, pointed and sharp, were beginning to tear through the demon's rough skin while a sickening smile curled across his lips.

"Ph-Phwuck! L-et go of me!"

The demon choked and gasped for air as Alastor tightened his fingers around its thick neck. Its claws swiped at him weakly, the terror in its eyes deepening with each passing second of air deprivation. He had always been a fan of slow deaths; there was something particularly delightful about watching the life drain from the eyes of his victims.

Meanwhile, the others watched from a distance, their faces illuminated by the eerie lights of Hell. Their eyes were wide with shock and fear, yet they were unable to do anything but stand still and watch as Alastor choked their friend with a horrifying strength that belied his slender frame.

"S-Stop it!" One of his comrades dared to speak up, but Alastor silenced them with a fierce glare and a single raised finger to his lips. He refused to let anything distract him from the pleasure of torturing the monstrous creature before him.

The demon continued to wheeze and gasp for air under the deadly embrace of Alastor. Its futile resistance slowly began to recede as its face grew dark and purplish. Blood trickled from its mouth, pooling on the ground beneath it.

His grip tightened around the demon's neck, his fingers digging deeper into its scaly flesh as its struggles grew weaker. Its eyes bulged out grotesquely, blood vessels popping in a gruesome spectacle as it tried to breathe against the vice-like grip. Yet, not once did Alastor's grin falter or his joyful demeanor change.

He lifted the demon by its throat, staring at it with amusement as if it was nothing more than an interesting plaything hanging on his fingertips until they became unconscious.

"Well," Alastor murmured sweetly, "that's disappointing, I was hoping he'll last longer."

He tightened his grip one last time with a resounding crack echoing through the warehouse. The demon's body convulsed once before growing limp in his grip.

He chuckled to himself, then drop the now dead demon and turned his attention back to the three remaining demons. They watched him with fear written plain across their monstrous faces, their weapons shaking slightly in their hands.

"What will it be?" he asked, spinning the staff in his hand. "Come at me all at once, or one by one? It doesn't really matter." His voice was a purr, a sassy invitation laced with deadly promise.

"Who's next? Come on! Don't be shy."

The three remaining demons glanced at each other nervously before they decided to cut their losses and run

for their lives. They dropped their weapons and scattered in different directions. Alastor watched with a chortle, his shoulders shaking with mirth as he twirled his radio staff leisurely.

"Oh, come now! Is our little game over so soon? I was just beginning to enjoy myself." His words echoed out, turning the otherwise chilly warehouse into a stage for his delightfully malicious performance.

He slammed his staff onto the ground and dark tendrils shot up from the cracks in the concrete, pursuing each of the fleeing demons with malevolent intent. Each one of them cried out in terror as they realized that there was no escape, no place to hide.

The tendrils coiled around their ankles and yanked them off their feet. They crashed onto the concrete floor with heavy thuds that echoed throughout the warehouse. Their screams of terror were music to Alastor's ears.

"Running away? Oh no, no, no," he tisked, shaking a finger at the terrified trio. "You don't get to leave without my permission."

The tendrils dragged the creatures back towards him with merciless intent, their claws scraping on the concrete in futile resistance. The squealing and groaning were only drowned by the sound of Alastor's inane laughter filling the gloom-ridden warehouse.

"Please ... don't... I beg you..." it pleaded through chattering teeth.

"You must've mistaken me for someone merciful," he cackled, holding out a hand as if to stop their pleas for mercy. "No such luck I'm afraid."

Watching them squirm in utter helplessness instigated an overwhelming sense of satisfaction deep within him. With each desperate plea for mercy and every tear shed in fear, Alastor's grin grew wider.

"Oh, the desperation!" he exclaimed giddily. "I can tell you all have a lot more to offer than the first one."

He ran his gaze over the three remaining demons like a cat observing its cornered prey.

"Let's spice things up a bit, shall we?" Alastor drawled, a spark of pure excitement dancing in his predatory eyes. He gestured with his staff, and with a loud crackling noise, jolts of electricity arced from its top, jumping onto the three immobile demons. Their tortured screams echoed across the warehouse as their bodies convulsed in helpless agony.

Every jerk, every twitch was a symphony to Alastor's senses, each scream was an aria he drank in with an unholy pleasure that was almost palpable. One by one, he watched as each of the demons succumbed to the relentless torture. Their cries began to weaken; their struggles began to fade.

"Oh, come now!" Alastor admonished, sounding more like a disappointed teacher than an oppressor. "It's not nap time just yet."

He increased the power of his staff. The air crackled dangerously around him, filling the warehouse with a sound akin to distant thunder.

Suddenly, two of the demons grew limp as life finally fled their tortured forms. Alastor let out a sigh of disappointment at their lack of resistance but then his gaze landed on the last remaining demon. It was trembling violently, its eyes squeezed shut against the pain coursing through its body.

"Oh my!" Alastor exclaimed, sounding genuinely pleased for the first time since he had begun his savage game. The tendrils around the last demon loosened slightly but didn't let go completely. "I see you are the one to win the prize of being my answer sheet!"

"Now tell me, my dear pathetic fellow… Who sent you?"

…

…

…

…

_________________

"What is taking him so long?" Vaggie asked Lilly as they waited for Alastor to come back with the missing spices.

They were waiting by the stove, making sure everything was ready for when he came back.

"While he can be quite meticulous when it comes to his seasonings," Lilly replied, her fingers twitching nervously as she glanced at the grand clock overlooking the mansion's ostentatious living room. "But he should be back any moment now."

Just as she finished speaking, an unexpected tremor shook the ground beneath their feet, causing both of them to lose balance. It was followed by an alarming rumble that seemed to echo through the mansion's stone walls.

Suddenly, a deafening crash echoed through the mansion, causing the chandelier hanging from the ceiling to sway violently with a jingling clatter of crystal.

"What was that?!" Vaggie gasped as her eyes widened in horror. They both rushed to the window, peering out into the darkness.

There he stood, Vox in the mansion courtyard, his eyes glowing with an unnatural light that cast an eerie glow on the once tranquil grounds. He was surrounded by a horde of demons; their dark forms a stark contrast to his radiant figure.

Manipulated by forces unknown, his usual smirk was replaced by a gnashing of teeth and eyes filled with a rabid madness. His form flickered like static on an old television screen as he advanced on the mansion.

Vox raised an arm towards the house and a vibrant beam of red energy shot forth. It hit the mansion with cataclysmic force, blowing out windows and sending shards of glass flying in every direction. Another crash sounded as one part of the building crumbled under Vox's onslaught.

"Shit!" Vaggie screamed over the deafening noise, "We need to get Tommy and get out!"

As they ran down the halls of the great mansion. They could hear the screams of the lesser demons, minions of Alastor who were tasked with maintaining the grandeur of the mansion. The once opulent paintings hanging around the mansion trembled violently, some even crashing onto the floor. The portraits in those paintings wailed in terror as their frames shattered into fragments.

The mansion was overrun with Vox's dark army, their claws and teeth tearing through the walls and furniture. Amidst the chaos, a sinister voice echoed from the depths of Vox's shadow, a cruel laugh betraying their delight at watching everything fall into place according to their twisted plan.