Chapter Text
The tension in the air was palpable, uncomfortable, thick enough to cut. It was suffocating, which was quite a feat considering the chaos usually plaguing these eerily deserted streets. The sound of anguished wails echoed between buildings as the frantic pounding of feet on pavement emphasized the state of the citizens’ mounting panic. All of it was evidence of the wayward souls that had apparently made the same unfortunate mistake as you--getting themselves trapped out in the open, defenseless and aimless as the worst time of the year was fast approaching. You didn’t really know how you’d ended up here, what wrong turn you must have taken, how careless you must have been to allow yourself to get lost, and on tonight of all nights!
The Eve of the Extermination was nigh…no, the Extermination was here, surely it would start playing out in the next few hours, or perhaps mere minutes. There was no sign of the telltale clocktower that heralded the occasion’s commencement from the alley you’d ducked into, and you were too afraid to risk peeking out into the street for even a moment. It was too dangerous; one look, one false move was all it would take for the remainder of your eternal afterlife to be tragically cut short.
The severity of the situation only intensified as the seconds ticked by, and you could feel your dry tongue sticking uncomfortably to the roof of your mouth. The pressure in your head was throbbing, clouding your thoughts and judgment. You clutched your temples and tucked your knees under your chin, bombarded by the symphony of misery swelling up around you. There was no way to call for help, no way to escape from your impromptu hiding place without being noticed, and summarily caught, no doubt.
This would be your first year experiencing Hell’s infamous Extermination Day, and clearly you hadn’t properly heeded the litany of warnings you’d been fed since the day you’d arrived. You’d gotten comfortable, taken solace in the protection he’d promised you…but he couldn’t very well keep his word without knowing where you were. Stranded in the scarlet cityscape that you still weren’t quite accustomed to traversing alone, with no way to communicate with him. If only he’d stop being conceited long enough to get a decent phone, for emergencies like this if nothing else!
It wouldn’t matter after tonight, of course. There wouldn’t be anyone left to communicate with, or to hound him about it, if you didn’t make it out alive. Resting your head on your knees, you wondered if he or anyone else would bother trying to find whatever remains you happened to leave behind. If you didn’t return, it wouldn’t be that difficult to piece together the details of your fate. The angels must be fairly thorough in their duty, keen and even eager to eradicate as many of the damned, withering souls that’d been cast into this inferno and condemned to suffer in perpetuity. This was the one day of the year the revered holy creatures could let loose, venting their righteous fury on the nobodies that had been banished and scattered across the pitiful circles of Hell.
I didn’t even get to say goodbye… The thought crossed your mind, but it was kind of a silly one. It wasn’t like you’d meant for this to happen, to fall prey to the unfortunate circumstances that left you helpless on the worst day of the year.
Things had been going so well up to this point…too well, some may have argued. But it would truly be a travesty if it all turned out to be little more than a fond memory by tomorrow morning. You’d finally found somewhere to belong, even in a place as brutal and wretched as this. You’d made the acquaintance of someone you were proud, elated even, to be associating with; and not for all the same reasons many others likely assumed. Alastor was more than his power, his influence in your eyes, probably because you’d seen sides of him no one else would ever be lucky enough to glimpse. You’d heard all about his past, experienced his present, and in the end it seemed that his company was actually the perfect place to reside; it benefited both of you.
“I’m sorry…” It was all you could think to say, murmuring the meager apology under your breath. You were sure if you spoke any louder, your voice would tremble, maybe even break…and you didn’t think you could handle hearing the depth of your own despair at the moment.
Something rustled at the end of the alleyway, disrupting the fragile darkness that cloaked it further down. You flinched and curled up tighter, aware that it wasn’t exactly practical to try to make yourself as small as possible, but what else was there to do? Fading into the scenery, becoming as unassuming and obscure as possible…maybe if you could avoid detection, you’d manage to survive. But even in the event that such a flimsy plan yielded temporary success, it wouldn’t protect you forever, much less through the more violent and rowdy hours of the night.
The disturbance grew louder, more distinct, and you looked up despite your apprehension. It was difficult to make out the source of the commotion, still shrouded by oppressive shadows, but before long a definitive form began gliding towards you, almost as if the shadows had come to life. You searched for something to hide in or defend yourself with, naturally coming up short, considering you’d already taken refuge in the only notable cubby the vicinity had to offer. Feet scraping against the ground, eyes darting around for even a fraction of a clue indicating where to go or what to do next, it was all in vain. There was nothing you could do to fend off whatever was coming for you now, and for the second time you found yourself wishing you’d given proper farewells before getting wrapped up in such a regrettable mess.
“You really should be, you know?”
That voice…the daunting form broke away from the heavy gloom, enveloping you in its smokey embrace as it draped itself around your shoulders. It was a being and sensation you’d experienced plenty of times before, typically at its master’s behest. As your eyes scanned for the source of the voice, you realized that was precisely the motivation of its behavior. A shadow that mirrored the visage of a demon you knew very well, with large protruding ears and sharp, sinister antlers twisting from its head. A demon who made an involuntary wave of relief and affection bloom in your chest each time he graced you with his presence. You couldn’t recall an instance when you’d been happier to see his ominous form approaching than right at this moment.
“Sorry, that is.”
You’d barely registered his words when he’d addressed you before, and as your anxiety started to ebb you found control of your senses returning to you as well. “I can’t believe--I’m so glad you’re--”
“Here to rescue you? I’d certainly hope so, my dear,” he continued, seeming almost aloof, or perhaps it was patronizing, in his tone. “You have no idea the degree of trouble you put me through.”
“I am sorry,” you conceded, forcing yourself up on trembling legs as you braced against the wall. “I never intended for this to happen--”
“But it did. Quite an unfortunate turn of events,” the man clad in crimson mused, offering you a clawed hand as his blazing eyes scrutinized you from head to toe. “You’re lucky I’ve had my shadows trailing you for some time now. If it weren’t for them, I’m not convinced I would have been able to locate you before one of them did.”
“I am lucky, and grateful, and everything else that goes along with that,” you added hastily, accepting his support out of reflex. “I wanted to find a way to call you, to contact you somehow. But you’ve made that option unnecessarily difficult, refusing to take advantage of modern technology. Quite the ridiculous hang up, if you ask me.”
“Do you really think it’s wise to be picking a fight with me right now?” His rhetorical inquiry was laced with intimidation, sending a chill down your spine that he noticed by the slightest twitch of your hand. “I could very well take my leave and let you endure the remainder of the evening yourself, if you wish. If you find my habits so insufferable.”
“No, please, I’m sorry!” Your fingers dug into the stiff fabric of his coat, partly in an attempt to steady yourself, and partly to ensure he wouldn’t abandon you. It was kind of pointless, though; if he truly felt so inclined, he could escape your grip in wisps of immaterial smoke, impossible to follow and even more impossible to catch. The desperation in your expression made the corners of his twisted mouth contort that much more. “I’m not thinking straight, I was scared. I am scared. I’m glad you came to rescue me, I need you--”
“Now this attitude is much more fitting, considering the state of the situation, wouldn’t you agree?” Again, he wasn’t actually looking for a response, and this time you were wise enough to keep your biting rebuttals to yourself. “But we can resume this conversation elsewhere. It’s been decades since I last dared to reject the convenience and safety of taking shelter from the carnage. And having to keep track of someone else…” He wasn’t the type to admit or pay any mind to the concept of weakness, but you knew even abilities like his had their limits. There was no guarantee that either of you would survive to see another day if you made the unwise decision to tough things out.
He spoke so candidly about the danger that the angels and their blessed weapons posed; you were surprised he held such guarded opinions about them in the first place. He was one of the most revered and influential demons Hell had to offer, and yet here he was, reciting the same warnings you’d been bombarded by with greater frequency as the date of the infamous purge grew closer. There was nothing about his appearance that indicated he was any more unnerved than usual, despite his haunting words. But he was right; you’d exchanged enough small talk, and now it was time to seek refuge before you got caught up in the commotion of the day’s forsaken slaughter.
Sharp points pricked at your shoulders as he placed his hands on you, preparing to invoke one of his many unique methods of transportation. Traveling through his shadows was quite an ordeal, tending to leave you feeling dizzy and nauseous as you transitioned from one form to another. He guaranteed your safety, claiming that you were never at risk of losing any limbs or coming out all mismatched on the other side. So far his words had held their weight, although you weren’t much looking forward to the day when all that trust you’d put in him proved to be for naught.
You held your breath in preparation for the trek, turning to stone in the split second before he initiated your departure. An angel, one of the unforgiving winged harbingers of doom that took pleasure in the yearly evisceration of Hell’s ever increasing population, appeared before you in a blinding flash of light. Its horns were smooth and curved like a ram, a sickeningly vengeful smile plastered across its savage face. The prominent X that took the place of one of its eyes was almost like an omen, an emblem of the duty this creature had come to serve. It was nothing short of horrendous.
It was as if lightning had struck the ground where it landed, stone cracking and crumbling beneath your feet as fissures of light split the scene in every direction. Cutting up the walls, demolishing structures as far as your eyes could see. You wanted to turn around, to hang on to Alastor as hard as your grip would allow, and even tighter, taking solace in his presence regardless of whether or not he was able to offer you suitable protection. But you were frozen, and you didn’t have time to react as you were whisked away in the same breath, the world around you morphing into an incomprehensible blur as you were carried off in what you could only hope was the direction of safety.
“That was a bit of a close call, wasn’t it?” the cheery lilt he always spoke with was agitated, offset by a tremble you’d never heard before. Distorted static fizzled and popped as the words slithered through his fangs, plummeting to the floor like boulders.
Alastor was the type of person that knew the extent of his power better than anyone, and he was keen on ensuring he never ended up in a dilemma that crossed those boundaries, that he was certain he couldn’t overcome. You knew there were at least a handful of demons he resented due to their nature, the measure of power they wielded that he had yet to obtain. One day he would surpass them all, and maybe then he’d finally have the strength to slay an angel before it had the chance to denounce him by its own hand.
Before you could respond, the world went dark. Emptiness consumed your vision as you felt your legs buckle; you would have crumpled to the floor if Alastor’s hold hadn’t held out. It seemed the unprecedented encounter had left you both more shaken than you were willing to admit. That was fine, since you were alone, safe within the confines of the hotel you’d come to know as your home and haven. Apparently Alastor had come to like it quite a bit himself, enough to claim his own room where he could conduct his various schemes without disturbance or distraction.
Soon enough, you were floating. You wondered if perhaps you were dreaming, or your senses had deceived you and you hadn’t actually managed to avoid that rogue executioner’s wrath. But the sounds, smells, and sensations surrounding you were comforting and recognizable, accompanied by the distinct feeling of Alastor’s arms cradling you in his embrace. He’d taken care of everything else, and you were so tired…it couldn’t hurt to let your guard down a teensy bit more, just long enough for you to recover some energy. But as you did so, you felt yourself drifting further and further away, plunging into the warm void as you succumbed to the temptation of its pacifying clutches.