Archive of Our Own

“Come on, Vaggie! I'm sure it'll be fine!”

“I don't know, Charlie...this place looks kind of sketchy.”

It was afternoon in the city, nicknamed 'Pentagram' for its layout. Shadows stretched across the vividly hued streets, as the populace bustled and hummed.

Down a side avenue, a pair of young girls stood outside a storefront, patchy sign draped over a single dingy glass door. It looked to have opened just recently, though its condition was questionable. Usually, the young women never walked this way. But today, their usual route home from the local college was blocked off due to construction. Thus, they'd found themselves here instead.

And now, a discussion had begun.

One of them was passionate about making the most of their unexpected detour, wanting to explore the curio shop before them. “It's not sketchy, it has character! And I promise, we won't stay too long! I just wanna check it out!” Her blonde locks swayed to and fro behind her as she bounced in place, eyes wide and sparkling with youthful enthusiasm and determination.

Charlie Magne had always been a hopeful type, with big dreams. A used goods shop that seemed to have set up business recently, in an area she didn't often frequent? It called to her nature, begging her to give it at least one look-see. Who knew what you could possibly find inside? The general odds and ends, sure, but maybe also...treasure. Something special, out of the norm. What would a little adventure hurt, once in a while?

Beside her stood her stalwart best friend, Vaggie. She was far more reserved, always looking over things with a thoughtful, vigilant eye. Trouble could show up anywhere, and although she wasn't a scaredy-cat, she was rather protective of her bubbly companion, seeing as she had a bit of a famous name. And, at times, an overly trusting nature. Though, the worst thing they'd really have to worry about here was a scam, which she could easily detect.

So, with a resigned sigh, but paired to a small smile, she gave her answer. “Mm...alright. Just for a few minutes.” Squealing happily, Charlie threw her arms around her in a grateful hug.

“Yay! Thank you!” Taking her friend's hand in hers, the two girls stepped inside.

A bell over the door tinkled, signifying their arrival in the darkened shop. The hues inside were deeper and subdued, a contrast to the sunny cityscape beyond. Indeed, it seemed to have set up freshly, since there were quite a few packing boxes still littering the floor. But most of the shelves were in place, featuring a myriad of offerings.

With eager anticipation, Charlie began to scour the racks, Vaggie trailing behind her. The place was in dire need of some air freshener and a thorough dusting, but otherwise there was nothing out of the norm. In fact, she had to admit, some of the pieces looked pretty neat. Her eyes lingered on a small statue, seeming to be fashioned from a mixture of cultures. A custom designed deity figure, perhaps?

As she drew closer, another trinket caught her gaze, and she knelt down to give it a look-see, earlier suspicions gradually melting away. In her fascination, she'd lost sight of Charlie, who'd already wandered off down another couple of rows, further back into the shop.

It wasn't until she'd realized how quiet it had gotten, that she'd looked up suddenly, and noted her error. Immediately, she was on alert, tearing her attention away from the display. “Charlie?” They hadn't seen any other customers or clerks around, but she wasn't about to leave the girl to her own devices, lest she get potentially conned into spending money, and too much of it, on something she didn't need. Wasn't that what she was here to prevent?? Cursing herself for her own wandering, Vaggie picked an aisle, and hurried onwards.

Meanwhile, said blonde had reached the very back of the store, which seemed far more sparsely decorated than the rest. Perhaps this was where the contents of those boxes up front were meant to go? In any case, there really wasn't much to see here. Letting out a soft exhale, mildly tinged with disappointment at having seemingly reached the end of her mini-journey, Charlie turned to head back towards the front. Vaggie was probably wondering about her, and she didn't want her friend to worry.

Suddenly, a crackle. Not like paper or something breaking, either. Static? It was such a distinct sound, that immediately, Charlie spun around, gaze landing on the one lone shelf against the farthest wall. A flash of vivid scarlet caught in her vision, followed by another crackle, and...a voice? It was distant, and she couldn't understand what it was saying, but her interest was piqued.

With hesitant steps, she walked towards what seemed to be the source: that blur of red, upon the top row of the shelf. How had she not noticed it before?

Just as Vaggie had arrived in the back, a shrill shriek rang out. Her lone eye was frantically scanning the shop for any sign of her friend. She knew that voice by heart. “Charlie! What's wrong?!” She couldn't exactly run here, but damn it – she wasn't about to let her friend get hurt, in any way! “Where are you?!”

Turning sharply on her heel, Vaggie arrived at the end of an aisle, now in the very back of the store – and was greeted by a spot of long blonde hair and pale attire. Charlie was excitedly grokking over something on the lone shelf, and thankfully seemed unharmed. But, what could've caused such a reaction? Making her way over, Vaggie was about to find out.

“Charlie? Are you okay?” The girl had a huge smile on her face, staring down intently at the object in her hands. Allowing her gaze to follow, Vaggie saw what had gotten the girl so worked up:

A radio. A small, old-fashioned one at that, crimson in color, with tuning knobs and a large dial. The girl was turning it around eagerly in a gentle but firm grasp. Although she was glad to see her friend, and obviously happy, Vaggie couldn't understand what was so special about the object. Upon catching sight of the young woman to her side, Charlie spun around, all too eager to share her find. “Vaggie, lookit! Isn't it so cool??”

Tilting her head slightly, a clump of white bangs fell in front of her puzzled gaze. “I mean...I don't know? Who really listens to the radio anymore? Everything is digital, and you can find these sorts of models replicated online. Probably cheaper, too.” She didn't mean to be so harsh, but Vaggie simply didn't want Charlie getting tricked into anything unnecessary. They were only meant to be looking, after all.

However, her observation was met with a huff and a pout. Charlie wasn't having any of it. “I do! Well, I mean, I used to. As a kid. I'd go through different stations, and sing along. And at night, I'd fall asleep to it, too. It was nice, especially since...well, y'know. I was alone for a lot of the time.”

Ouch. Yeah, Vaggie remembered that – Charlie's parents were successful business types, and were away often. Charlie herself had been a bit of a daydreamer, and had unfortunately been something of a target for bullying growing up, too. Aside from Vaggie, she hadn't had many friends. Only now, as they were older, was her social circle widening. The young woman supposed that seeing this device had reminded Charlie of the few bright spots in her childhood.

As she carefully flipped the radio around, the blonde's round eyes widened, and she brought it closer for inspection. “There's something written here...A...Alastor?” Her smile stretched further. “This one even has a name!”

Vaggie shook her head. “Or that was who owned it before. Does it even work?”

Charlie nodded rapidly. “Yeah! I heard it! When I first got back here! That's how I found it! The static was going off!” She looked at the knobs. “Though, I don't know if it was actually turned on...”

At this, Vaggie's brow furrowed. That was kind of weird...or, it was damaged. “Are you sure it's not broken? I know it means a lot to you, but if you really want a radio, you should get one from a more secure source. If you'd like, we could - ”

But Charlie shook her head firmly. “He's not broken! I'm sure of it!” Oh great, she was already getting attached. “You know I can afford this! I don't wanna leave him alone here!” Charlie did have a point, she had the money. But, if the dang thing didn't work, she'd be shelling out extra trying to find a way to repair it. And Vaggie really didn't want her getting taken for a ride!

Seeing the sparkle in her eyes though, and how closely she was holding the machine, her friend could already see victory slipping away. Yeah...Vaggie wasn't winning this debate. Charlie had made up her mind, and who was she to tell her otherwise? If nothing else, she could make sure that the girl wasn't overcharged for her purchase. Hopefully, there'd be no further bills following that.

“Alright, alright. You got me. Let's go find the register.” Letting out a little cheer, Charlie lifted the radio above her head, smile wide and beaming. “Did'ja hear that, Alastor? You've got a new home!” As she brought the device back down, Vaggie had to blink, doing a double take.

Had the main dial just...spun upwards?

It's been a long day, and this place has lousy lighting. You're seeing things. Letting out another sigh, Vaggie followed her friend back towards the front of the store. Charlie was happy, that's all that really mattered here.

…...

Oh, they just came out of that shop. Thank goodness – I was getting kinda bored, just standing here and waiting. I don't really know my way around this area very well. She doesn't come down here at all either, so hopefully, that road work will finish up soon. I don't really like when my routine is disturbed, heh.

Sigh...she's so beautiful. Those golden locks, those soft eyes. That voice, like a goddess. That perfect body. Charlie Magne. How long I've watched you from afar.

Ugh, that girl is with her, again. Vaggie, or whoever. I still don't like her very much. She wouldn't let me speak with you, the only time at school when I got to actually talk to you. She just happened to be there.

And she was so rude, when all I wanted was to take you somewhere we wouldn't be bothered. Just like I'd been trying to before. So I could tell you how I felt, and we could finally be together. It's why I had to start doing all of this – although your folks are well-known, it's hard to find anything about them or you, personally.

I have your number, but I never could work up the nerve to say anything. I'd always get scared when you picked up, but at least...I got to hear your voice, for a few seconds. Unfortunately, I can't call you anymore – somehow, I was blocked. Maybe it was her who told you to do it – I know you'd never do that to me on your own. No, you're always so nice to everybody. It's one of the reasons why I love you so much.

Oh? What's that? You're holding something. What is it? Oh...it looks like an old radio. Do you like music? That's nice – what sort of music? Love songs are always fun. I like listening to them, and imagining you when I do. Perhaps we could listen to it, at your place? When the time is right, and I can see you without worry. When I know we won't be interrupted.

Charlie Magne. One day...one day, you will be mine. Until then...I will watch, and I will wait.

…...

It was a new day in the Pentagram city, with the sun shining high in the sky. The air was crisp, and possibilities were endless.

Specifically, this was a day that Charlie and Vaggie had off, free from school or any other responsibilities. It had been almost a week since their visit to the curio shop. Currently, they were gathered at Charlie's apartment for some general down time and chatting.

It wasn't exactly the most impressive place, let alone well managed or in the safest area. They kept a security personnel on-duty downstairs, but that was about it. Still, it served its purpose to provide a roof over her head for a reasonable enough monthly rate. The layout was simple: past the door, to the direct right, was the small kitchen. Straight ahead was the bathroom and lone bedroom. To the left was the living area. Charlie had managed to customize this to her liking, and it now felt quite cozy.

Joining them was their friend, a young man by the name of Angel Dust. His real name was Anthony, but nobody used it. He'd been in some dire straits a couple years back, but thanks to meeting Charlie, who'd offered him both unwavering friendship and resources, had managed to turn his life around. Now, he could afford to pay his bills properly, and provide care for his precious little pet pig, Fat Nuggets. He was even able to offer some of the same support to other friends in rough circumstances. Charlie's positive influence had spread beyond just him.

He worked at a restaurant downtown, as opposed to the shady strip club he'd used to be tethered to. At this time, he was taking shifts alongside a spritely young woman named Niffty. On some occasions, he was also learning how to bartend under the guidance of an older worker named Husker, Husk for short. He could be grouchy, but did genuinely care for the boy. Angel was a bit of a flirt, and admitted to having a little crush on the guy, though so far, his hints and advances were ignored.

As they sat and lounged about the living room, the soft sounds of oldies tunes lingered on the air. Charlie had set up 'Alastor' on the coffee table, where everyone could see him. As though he were center stage. She and Vaggie were enjoying some lemonade on the couch, while Angel was sprawled out on the floor. With one arm resting on the table, his two-toned gaze was focused on the radio.

“Oi, Charlie. Mind if I change the music?” He rolled his eyes, and flashed her a grin. “Not that there's anything wrong with this kinda stuff, but I'm feelin' in the mood for somethin' a bit more...modern.” He was already reaching towards the knobs. “How d'you work this thing?”

The girl blinked, looking at him over the rim of her cup. “Huh? Oh...I haven't really switched the station, eheh. I've been enjoying these classics – I used to listen to another channel like this while growing up.” She smiled as she lowered the mug. “But sure, just turn the dial up top.” Nodding, Angel went to do just that, as Charlie looked over at Vaggie.

She was about to ask her more about a recent call she'd had with her Mother, when there was a sudden screech, a pop, and a slew of curses from Angel. Jumping in their seats, the two girls saw him leap up from his place upon the floor, casting a glare down at the device on the table.

Charlie stood up quickly. “What's wrong?! What was that?”

Pointing a finger, the male shook his head. “That damn thing shocked me! I went t'do like you said, and zap! Shit, that hurt! You sure it's not busted?” At this, Charlie immediately knelt down, checking over the machine with a careful, concerned gaze. It was both for her human friend, and the object in her hands.

She was willing to say, even as he was inanimate, 'Alastor' had become a sort of companion to her as well. Having the radio playing as she went about with whatever in her residence was oddly reassuring, so certainly, she didn't want him to be damaged, either. As she fiddled with the dial, each station filtering in and out of focus, there seemed to be nothing wrong.

“Hm...well, he seems to be working now. I'm really sorry, Angel. I'm sure he didn't mean it. Maybe he just really likes this kind of music? He is a classic, after all.” At hearing her words, Angel raised an eyebrow in bewilderment. What was she on about?

Vaggie sighed, and waved a hand. “The thing came with a name. Alastor. Charlie's sort of personified it.” Understanding now, Angel offered a chuckle, though his digits still hurt from the sting.

“'Alastor', huh? No need t'be so uptight there, buddy – guess you prefer a woman's touch.” Hearing this, Vaggie snorted into her drink, while Charlie felt her face flush just slightly. Did Angel really have to phrase it like that? Granted, it was kind of funny to think about, and a bit flattering – her radio buddy was comfortable with her, then. That was nice to know...though, she still felt bad for Angel.

Who had owned the radio before her? Who was 'Alastor', anyway? Maybe if they had ever met, they could've been friends. The thoughts drifted at the back of her mind, throughout the rest of her visit.

…...

Ah, finally – the door's opening. And there they are. Those two pests. Vaggie, and...what's his name again? Angle? No, Angel. Angel Dust. What a silly name for a guy. Why anyone would want to be called that is beyond me. But, based off of how he looks, he's probably more than just a bit fruity.

He's been to the school a few times, too. Once, when I was about to call out to you. You saw me too – but then, he showed up. He noticed me, and got in my way, just like her! He took you away. You caught the bus together, and I couldn't follow you that time. Oh, it made me so mad! All these annoying people getting between us.

One day. One day, it'll just be you and me, Charlie. We won't need anyone else. Until then...I'll just have to be patient. For the right moment.

Unfortunately, I can't try to see you tonight – the guard on-duty knows me. He's got a bias; he wouldn't let me in when I asked what floor you lived on. It's okay, though – I found a way to look it up. They can't hide you from me. You're on the sixth floor, room number six-oh-six. Heh, that's almost a bad number. How funny. It was a little tricky finding your address to begin with, but I managed.

I've sent you so many letters, though you've never gotten them. After the first few, they started coming back. All my gifts, too. I don't know why. Was someone tampering with the mail? That's a federal offense, you know. It's easier to write out my feelings than to express them over a phone call, but because of this, I had to switch up both of my tactics. Oh well. Eventually, I'll be able to tell you, face-to-face. And shower you with all the gifts I want, too.

Soon, Charlie. I can feel it. Very soon. I'll have you all for myself, just as it was meant to be.

But for now...I'll wait.

…...

It was about a week later when the next incident occurred.

Charlie had come home from volunteering at the animal shelter, and after settling in, had decided to take care of some cleaning before starting on school assignments. With golden oldies playing like always, she was wiping the floors, dusting the shelves, and sorting out laundry from the last load she had yet to put away.

At the moment though, she'd taken a break, for a particularly peppy tune that had come on. Singing and dancing had always been great loves of hers, and although she'd never attended formal lessons, she'd always had some melody or other in her mind, and at least on her own time, was light on her feet. Her Mother had a love of theater and a glorious voice of her own, which probably helped to factor into things.

Giggling as she flopped down onto the couch to catch her breath, her gaze locked on the little radio, 'Alastor', that sat once more in the center of her coffee table. Briefly, she mused over what sort of music his prior owner could've possibly enjoyed. Maybe a bit of everything, who knew? Perhaps it was because of its design and age, but she felt most comfortable keeping him set to songs of the past. Though, there was certainly a variety to be found there, no matter the bygone era.

Suddenly, a ding. The doorbell was ringing. Turning the dial down, Charlie stood up to answer. Who could it be? Angel was working, and Vaggie still had classes. Upon opening the door with a smile, nevertheless, she felt it fall slightly. She hadn't been expecting this.

“...Seviathan?”

The well-dressed young man, from the upper crust of which she considered herself to be a former member, was staring down at her with his own smile. Though, it was rather clipped. Seviathan Von Eldritch – what a mouthful! - was a part of the esteemed family that had known her own for years. The Brother of a former friend, Helsa...as well as her ex-boyfriend.

They'd parted ways once Charlie had voiced her strong opinions on not wanting to follow in her parents' footsteps, instead pursuing more humanitarian work, both in her occupations and college courses. At first, he hadn't said anything, even when she'd moved from her family manor, having saved up enough money to afford a few months rent in this apartment, and then working a regular job to cover the rest. She'd just gotten lucky that she'd already had a trust set up to cover school expenses, and that it hadn't been cut off when she'd made her intentions known.

Over time though, the animosity had begun to build, and eventually bubble over, as Charlie had continued to distance herself from high society. He had admitted being embarrassed to be seen with her, and wishing that she would simply “pull her head out from the clouds, and be reasonable”. Which translated to not caring about anyone considered 'beneath' them, and putting all her effort into the family name. Charlie just couldn't be so detached and superficial, thus they'd broken up.

So, why was he seeking her out now?

It was obvious that he still wasn't comfortable being in this area, but he was at least attempting to keep it from showing through too noticeably. She figured it would be in both their best interests to get this visit over with, whatever it was for. “Can I help you?”

Offering a nod, he began to speak. “Charlie. It's been a while.” Yes, it had. She didn't respond, simply waiting for him to continue. She wasn't interested in arguing, though she wasn't exactly looking to exchange pointless pleasantries, either. She'd prefer if he just said his piece, and then they could both move on. “I trust you've been well?”

Folding her arms across her chest, she gave him a pointed look. “I know you didn't come here just to check up on me. This isn't exactly your scene – you made that quite clear to me before. So, why are you here? Did someone send you?” By the way he straightened just a bit more where he stood, she was pretty certain that she'd hit the nail on the head with her last comment.

“You know that there's a gala coming up. For one of the companies your family works with.” No, she wasn't aware of that, but Charlie also wasn't surprised. This sort of stuff was common if you were born into status. “It's one of the larger names however, and this year, your parents are unable to attend.”

Oh. She could see where this was going, from a mile away. “Your Father made an attempt to contact you, but it seems as though he was...unable to do so?” Indeed, Charlie had blocked his number. It wasn't meant to be permanent, just...until she could get herself established, and prove to him that she wasn't merely chasing some hopeless, unobtainable dream. That her desires to help those less fortunate weren't wrong – that she wasn't a failure.

Also, until they could have a conversation that didn't end in a shouting match. That would be nice, too.

“So, let me guess, he sent you to fetch me, instead?” Shorter though she might've been, Charlie made sure she was standing at her full height. She refused to back down here; she had no interest in parroting some spiel to high-ranking types at a swanky soiree, just to further the Magne agenda. Because that's exactly what this was, her meant to make them look good, and cast aside everything of who she was to play a part. Charlie hadn't come this far, just to backtrack now.

The strained smile on Seviathan's face was starting to crack a little. “Charlie...why are you making this so difficult? You know we all only want what's best for you.” Ah yes, what was 'best' for her, I.e what was best for the family name. Her Father had never once supported her passions, brushing them off as naive idealism. Well, she couldn't support the ruthless corporate structure he so steadfastly held to either, so they were even.

Shaking her head, Charlie prepared to send him off. “I'm sure they can find someone else to represent them. So, if you'll excuse me, I'll be going now. Have a good day.” As she prepared to close the door however, Seviathan's hand stopped her.

The look he was giving her...it wasn't loathing, but he obviously wasn't enthused by her response.

“What happened to you, Charlie? We used to have such fun together, and at events just like these, too. When did you become so...delusional?” Yes, they had been happy together. When she hadn't realized that he was in love with a version of her that had never existed.

Offering him a defiant stare, Charlie once more attempted to close the door on him. “And I'm sure you can have just as much fun with someone who fits your ideals. There's plenty of them around. If you'll excuse me.”

This time however, his hand reached for her wrist. “Charlotte.” The tone to his voice was decidedly icier, and for a moment, Charlie felt her heart skip. He was using her full first name – it was quite clear he meant business. “It seems you don't quite understand me. You've been playing around here for long enough. If you can't see reason, then - ”

Suddenly, a screeching crackle. Both parties jolted where they stood. The shock of surprise was enough to allow Charlie a chance to break free, as she spun around. The sound of warbling notes and static was emanating from the radio upon the table. It was as though 'Alastor' himself, was viewing the conflict, and had had enough.

Taking the opportunity, she placed a hand on Seviathan's chest, and pushed. As he stumbled backwards, she slammed the door. It was a bold move, but it was all she could think of. It'd probably come back to bite her later, but for now? She could've cared less. “Send my regards to Dad!”

Locking the door behind her, Charlie ignored the raised voice from beyond the barrier, instead rushing for the table to quiet the outburst. As she reached for the knobs however, the radio immediately fell back into sync, music playing as peacefully as it had before. Like there was nothing wrong at all. Blinking a few times, Charlie carefully picked up the device, looking over 'Alastor' for any signs of damage. But there was nothing. Had it just been a well-timed coincidence that the station had decided to act up in its reception? It certainly seemed like it, as the sound of sharp footfalls faded away outside.

“Well...that was something.” Gingerly placing the radio onto the table, Charlie prepared to resume her work. As she stood up with the duster in hand once more however, she cast a look back at her stationary companion. A small smile on her face, as she regarded him.

Whether or not her words fell on deaf ears – or none at all – she didn't mind. “Thanks, Al.” And now he had a nickname, too. Humming with the song that had just started, Charlie turned away, to begin sweeping in the kitchen.

The air was still, save for the two melodies. Then, a shift – the light behind the tuning dial flickered, as if an eye were blinking. And the faintest pop of static, as if in reply.

…...

Yes! There's a different guard on duty! I can feed him some story, and I'll be upstairs to see my Charlie before I know it! Just gotta make it to the door first, and – oh, someone's coming out, hang on. Huh, never seen him around. Fancy guy. Now, I just -

...what? Did he just say... 'Charlie'? What...? She “turned him down”...?

No...no way. There couldn't be...two girls named Charlie here, right? Then, that means...he was here, to see my Charlie. My Charlie.

I...no, this can't be. It...it can't be...

Ouch. That hurt. Cement is a real bitch on the hands. But then again, so is being betrayed, yeah? Doesn't matter what he said – that she didn't give into him. No, no – my Charlie is being unfaithful. How does she know this guy? How long have they known each other? Did she go out with him before? Is he...like me? Another admirer from afar?

No. No, no, no. No, no, no, no, no, no! I refuse to accept this! Charlie is mine! Mine and only mine!

I can't see her like this. No – the moment is ruined. Because of him. This stranger, and her infidelity. I need to regroup – need to plan better. There'll be another time. I know it. We're meant to be together, after all.

I'll make her see. That she doesn't need anyone else. Only me. Only me. We'll be so very happy together. We will. It's meant to be.

And, if I can't have her...

...then no one will.

…...

“What?! Seviathan was here? Why didn't you call me??”

It was a new day, following classes and before work. Once again, Vaggie and Angel were gathered at Charlie's apartment. This time, she was telling them about what had happened with her unexpected – and unwanted arrival.

Waving her hands frantically, Charlie attempted to calm down her hotheaded friend. “It's okay, Vag! Don't worry, we sent him packing! Nothing happened!” The girl had no respect for the rich snob, and it wasn't only because of the disparaging remarks he'd sent her way, both within and out of earshot of Charlie. It was one of the other reasons they'd broken up too - because like hell she was going to let anyone insult her friends, no matter if their families were close.

“Eh?” At hearing her response, Angel looked over from where he'd been sitting on the floor with his phone. One eyebrow was cocked. “'We'? Who'd you have over?”

Upon realizing her slip, Charlie began to chuckle nervously. “Whoops, I mean...while we were arguing, the radio suddenly went off, like crazy. It was like...well, like Alastor was saying something, too. That's how I was able to get away – because Seviathan was so startled. I pushed him out the door. Literally.”

At hearing this, Vaggie couldn't help it – her lips twitched upwards in a smug smirk. Good for him, and good for Charlie! She was standing up for herself! Her best friend didn't deserve any of what that hoity-toity crowd threw her way, family included. She was the kindest person Vaggie knew, but as much as she'd like to always be there for her, it was apparent that her influence was limited. She was just glad that this incident had ended on a positive note.

Angel, on the other hand, was snickering openly. “Ha, you serious? Even the appliance can't stand that jerk-off!” He'd heard stories from Vaggie about the male's attitude towards those he viewed as 'below' him, and if he'd been around when they'd still been dating, boy oh boy, but he would've loved to mess with him!

Flashing the radio a grin and a thumbs-up, Angel offered a parting shot. “Your 'Alastor's more of a gentleman than that blowhard! Too bad ya can't date him, huh?”

Vaggie's eye widened, and she let out a groan. “Angel, no! No more of this personification!” It was ultimately harmless, just...she had her own reasons for not wanting to imagine Charlie with anyone else. But those were hers and hers alone, and she wasn't about to act on them. It wasn't her place to force such things. She simply wanted Charlie to be safe and happy.

The girl in question, meanwhile, had gone quietly pink on the couch, as her two pals jokingly bickered between one another. Date...? Well, she really had no idea who had owned her radio, other than a name. He could've been anybody, really. Maybe he'd been an okay guy, like Angel said?

The flush to her features darkened. Why was she even considering this, anyway? It was a very long time ago that her inanimate friend had been created, so there was no way that anything could've happened, anyway. Just...it was an interesting thought, the identity of the mystery man. Someone who liked music, was all she had to go on. Beyond that...who knew?

But, if she were to look at it as more than just a coincidence...well, maybe Angel had a point. She had told him thank you, after all. So...a gentleman then, who liked music, and possibly dancing. Like she did. That didn't sound so bad.

Thus, another day had come to an end.

…...

Finally! It's finally here! At long last, the stars have aligned in my favor!

Not only is my dearest Charlie at home alone, but that pesky guard isn't around to stop me, either. In fact...there isn't even a guard on-duty tonight. Well, there was earlier, but he disappeared. Probably chasing a stray cat or something. I don't know, or care.

All I know is, the door is ajar, so I can slip right in. It's a little later than I would've liked, but it's okay! We don't have to go out anywhere tonight – we can just stay together, all nice and snug, and get to know each other better. No interruptions, or unwanted guests. It's absolutely perfect.

I hope you haven't gone to sleep yet, Charlie. We've got a long night ahead of us. A long, wonderful night. Just you and me. Nothing else from before matters. Though, if you decide to play hard to get, well...

...heh, I have my ways of changing your mind. But, I'm sure I won't have to use them. After all, we were meant for one another. So of course, you'll say yes.

Right?

…...

Charlie had just finished with her shower, after a nice dinner. It had been pretty tasty, but messy. This had been the first time she'd ever cooked it, and her skills were still a work in progress. The dishes sat in the kitchen sink, soaking until they were ready for a later washing.

Settling in on the floor in front of the coffee table to start up on her studies, the doorbell suddenly rang out. She jumped slightly; it was rather late in the evening for anyone to be stopping by. Vaggie was away visiting family, and Angel was on duty at the restaurant tonight. She wasn't the most sociable with her neighbors, but they'd said hello in passing a few times around the complex. Perhaps something had come up, and for whatever reason, they needed her assistance?

The sound of mellow oldies drifted lazily on the air, as she sighed and stood up once more, to answer her caller. The doorbell was ringing a second time, and it was a bit grating. Best to answer it now, and solve whatever issue had arisen.

For a brief moment, Charlie felt a twinge of worry. Seviathan wouldn't really be bothering to come back so late to try again, right?

Well, if it was him...she just wouldn't open the door all the way. Yeah, that worked! Then, she could shut it in his face! It wasn't really like her to be so brusque, but if he hadn't gotten the message the first time around that she wasn't interested, then perhaps such further drastic gestures were necessary.

So, with a reassured smile on her face, Charlie unlocked the door – but only opened it enough to see who it was, exactly, standing on her doorstep. “Yes? Can I help...you...?”

Tall. Very tall, and rather unkempt. A young male, either her age, or slightly older. He wasn't someone she recognized right off the bat – obviously, not a social contact, or a neighbor. Yet why, why was there this nagging knot of worry in the pit of her stomach, like she had seen him before...?

And it was a bad thing, that he was standing before her now?

The way he was looking her over...forget politeness, her instincts were screaming at her to put her earlier plan in action, and slam the door on this stranger, too. But why? As she waited for him to speak, taking note of the growing light in his stare, that was when a sudden flurry of images began to play out across her mind's eye. Unnerving, harrowing memories, that she thought she'd closed the book on, a long time ago.

“I don't like the way he was looking at you, Charlie! And trying to drag you off 'somewhere private'? When you don't even know him? That just screams creepy!” A random day at school, when she and Vaggie had met up at a shared lunch break.

“Maybe he was just nervous, and wanted to talk one-on-one?” The girl had shook her head, thick snowy locks flowing back and forth like a cape in the wind.

“No, Charlie! He's a stranger, first and foremost! If he has something to say, he can say it to both of us! He even tried to grab you! What kind of guy does that with good intentions?” Vaggie had taken hold of her shoulders then, locking her stern but caring gaze upon Charlie's own. “If anything like this happens again, and I'm not here, be it with him or someone else – run. Get somebody, or go somewhere crowded, just don't say yes! Even in broad daylight, these types aren't afraid to pull crazy stunts. Okay?”

It took a few seconds, but eventually, Charlie had agreed. It had been from that point on though, that she'd noticed the same guy, every so often on campus...and, he was always looking and heading her way. That same eager, needy, wanting gaze. Vaggie's words had continued to ring out in her head like an alarm, and she'd made sure to put distance between them.

Once, Angel had shown up unexpectedly, right as he'd been closing in. It hadn't taken the male very long to put two-and-two together, though. Making a showy display of having reunited with a long-lost friend, he'd led her to the bus stop, where they'd hopped on one of the local lines. There, she'd told him the story.

“Yikes. I know I call her paranoid, but hon, that guy was sizing you up like a piece of meat. Be careful, okay? If ya need help, ya got my number, too.” So, even flirty Angel could tell that something was off here. She'd made sure from then on, not to lock eyes with the guy, and be far more aware of her surroundings.

Then...the phone calls. And the random letters. Gifts, too.

Vaggie had wanted her to call the cops. Angel had told them, point-blank, they wouldn't do anything unless it seriously escalated. Personal experience. The best option she had, was trying to deter it on her own, by blocking her number and sending the letters plus items back to the source. Hopefully, whoever it was would lose interest once they figured out they couldn't get a hold of her. In the meantime, keep a record of what she had on hand, just in case it did...end up getting worse.

So, that's what Charlie had done. And, things had seemed to quiet down. No more weird run-ins, no more calls, no more letters, no more gifts. All was fine. Everything was back to normal.

Only...it wasn't. It absolutely wasn't, Charlie realized, as it dawned on her, exactly where she'd seen this guy before. And, it seemed as though he understood her thoughts too, because before she could close the door -

“Waah!” He had pressed into it with his whole side, wedging a foot into the tiny space at the same time. Charlie hadn't been able to hold on – she'd stumbled backwards onto the floor, allowing him the opportunity to waltz right through, closing the entrance behind him. Her only exit was effectively blocked off, by this stranger who wasn't quite a stranger anymore.

No – he was a stalker. Her stalker, following her for who knew how long, and cornering her at a time when she was completely helpless. He knew where she lived. He'd found her number and address. What else could he possibly have on her? And, now that he was here, tonight...

...how much worse was this going to get?

Shit! My phone is in my room – can I get there before he gets me?! Charlie had already scrambled onto her feet, and was now eyeing her unwanted admirer warily. Her pulse was in overdrive, but it would do her no good to show that fear right off the bat. Perhaps she could disarm the situation, at least a little, and lower his guard before making her move?

“You...you go to the same school I do.” Hello, captain obvious! “You tried to – to talk to me before.” It was weak, but it was all Charlie could think of. That look in his eyes was terrifying; the longer he stared at her, the more it looked as though he just wanted to...to devour her. Maybe if she could get him talking, she could...calm him down a little?

And then, make the choice of whether or not she should still go for her phone...or just start screaming openly.

His face lit up at her words, and he took a couple steps forwards. Instinctively, Charlie found herself drawing back. “Oh, so you do remember me! It's been so long – but I knew, I knew you didn't forget me! You couldn't have, not you!” What about her? Why her? Well, it wouldn't have been any better if it were someone else, but still – why her?!

“The letters, and the calls. The items. Those were – were from you too, right?” Oh, he was so unbelievably happy, hearing her acknowledge his 'efforts'. It only served to make her spirit sink lower, as he came closer. The music around them was setting a twisted mood; a fractured romance that was never meant to be, when one party wanted absolutely nothing to do with the other.

“Yes, yes, yes! I knew it, I knew you were the one! Even though I wasn't able to reach you, I knew – we were meant to be together! You just – you didn't answer, because you couldn't! Because they wouldn't let you!” At this, his expression darkened, and Charlie felt her heart skip, hard. 'They?' “Those nosey friends of yours. Well, too bad. They can't stop what we have. They can't keep us apart.”

If only one of her friends was here right now...! Charlie wasn't a brawler. Not that she would just roll over and play dead, but she'd never gotten into any real scraps growing up! Everything had been so neat and proper in her existence; being in a situation like this, something she'd only read about in articles, or watched on the occasional true crime special that passed her by? Was like an unimagined nightmare come true, and now, it was on her to make the right decision.

So many outcomes, and far too many of them ended in bad news, if she didn't play her cards right. It was all too apparent, this guy wanted her. She could easily figure out in what ways, she wasn't that naive. Not when he was flashing his intentions like the neon signs in the downtown strip. She had to end this, here and now.

“You n-need to leave.” Curse her nerves, that stutter didn't do her any favors here! The male before her blinked, as if she'd just addressed him in a foreign language. Charlie couldn't turn around, but she knew her bedroom was at least a couple yards away. She could reverse, carefully, by a few more steps. One hand was reaching out, brushing over the top of her couch cushions. That helped her to keep her balance, because right now, her legs were threatening to betray her in their panic.

“But...Charlie...I came all this way, just for you. I did...this, all of this, just so we could be together.” Gradually, his expression was changing, from one of hurt confusion...to frustration...and rage. “We were meant to be together! You're mine, and only mine! That's the way it's meant to be!”

Slowly, Charlie shook her head. Another couple of steps backwards. “No...I'm sorry, but I don't know you. And this? Isn't okay. This i-isn't how you show somebody that you care for them.”

Maybe, just maybe...she could help him see the error in his actions, and it could all be resolved peacefully? It was beyond a hopeful long shot, but damn it if Charlie wasn't a pacifist. However things were headed towards, they didn't have to! They didn't have to end this way, whatever 'this way' was gearing up to be!

The anger in his eyes was painful to see, knowing it was aimed entirely at her alone, for something she couldn't help or fix. He shook his head violently. “No – no, it's not right! It's not fair! I'm a nice guy, I did everything I could for you! I tried to talk to you, to get to know you. I wrote you letters, I sent you gifts.”

Another shake. “I did what I was supposed to! But everyone else, they – they kept getting in my way, and now...” He was reaching into his coat pocket, and Charlie felt her heart sink, as he slowly began to withdraw...a folded knife.

“...they've poisoned you, too.”

It was now or never. He'd just showed his hand in the game. This guy wasn't going to see reason, and if she didn't do something, Charlie was very likely not going to see the next morning. So, without another word, she spun on her heel, and bolted for the bedroom. If she could just get there before he could - !

“Don't run away from me!” A rushing set of heavy footsteps, and a sudden sharp yank. Charlie let out a cry as she flew back and down – he'd gotten a hold of her loose, waist-length locks, and had used them to his advantage, pulling her to the floor. In an instant, she was face-to-face with a switchblade.

He was panting, eyes alight with a crazed hunger. “It wasn't supposed to be like this...why, Charlie? Why couldn't you just say yes? We could be so happy together...but you just had to, you just had to hurt me. Now...now I have to use this...” He honestly looked like he was about to cry, but Charlie couldn't muster up any sympathy in that moment – not when her head was spinning, her heart was racing its way out of her chest with every beat, and that blade was pressing against her cheek, tip dragging down shakily.

In a last-ditch effort, Charlie fixed him with the absolute full effect of frantic emotions in her eyes, hoping that perhaps, so up close and personal, he'd have a change of heart. It was all she had left. Both of her arms were at her sides, and she couldn't raise them fast enough to block anything. “P-Please...please don't...” His eyes widened, and for a moment, Charlie thought he was finally going to let her go.

Then, the shift. “God, you're so beautiful - !” He was leaning in closer, blade so near to her throat, lips less than an inch from her own -

Suddenly, an unholy, ungodly screech. Charlie's ears were ringing, but she recognized the sound almost immediately. It was just like the one that had occurred when Seviathan had shown up before, only cranked up to the max.

The radio. 'Alastor' was going nuts again. This time, there was no way that anyone else couldn't hear it.

In an instant, her attacker had left his place above her, and was rounding on the device. “This stupid thing? Shut up!” Charlie had leapt back onto her feet, and for a split second, she was torn. This was her chance! She could rush past him, get her phone, lock herself in her room and call the cops! But...

...this was also the second time that her little friend had saved her hide, in a perfectly timed stroke of luck. And, curse her sentimentality - neither of them were going down without a fight!

In a flash, she'd grabbed hold of a frying pan handle, sticking out of the full kitchen sink from earlier. In another move, Charlie brought the makeshift weapon down. Just like a bat, as hard as she could, into the base of her attacker's skull, right as he'd been about to yank up 'Alastor' and smash him to pieces.

With a roar, he swung about. “Hngh - ?!” She let out a cry, staggering back. The blade had so nearly sunk into her head, though the edge of the knife had still managed to slash her cheek. She could feel the sting of sliced skin. Before she had a chance to collect herself, Charlie went flying once more, as a fist collided with her face.

...n-no... Seeing stars, the pan clattered from her grasp, as she stumbled into the small kitchen. Charlie couldn't feel much of anything, save for the pain. Her head was throbbing, and her wobbly legs finally gave out, as she collapsed onto the floor. Her vision was flickering in and out of focus; all she could make out, was a cabinet, and the couch...followed by a pair of legs, stomping over to where she lay.

“Why, Charlie? Why did it have to be this way? We could've been so happy together...but you chose for it to end this way. You wanted it to be this way.” He was kneeling down, seemingly having forgotten about the screeching of the radio in the background. One hand was still holding the knife, while the other was reaching for the collar of her blouse.

“You made me do this.” Then, Charlie's world went black.

…...

It wasn't only her vision that had darkened. Just as she'd lost consciousness, the lights above began to flicker and fizzle, catching her assailant off-guard. He halted in his actions, whatever he'd been about to do to the knocked out girl. “What the...?”

Then, they'd gone out entirely. The unit was cloaked in pitch-black darkness. Well, save for...

That little radio on the table - the one that was still on, though the static howling it had been emitting earlier had calmed. On the other side of things, however...the light from its dial was seemingly blinding in its intensity; he could easily see it over his shoulder, from the corner of his eye. Turning around slowly, the stranger soon realized...

...he wasn't alone.

“Hey...who the hell are you?” He could quite clearly see it – the edges of a towering silhouette, standing before him in the inky shadows, lit up by the radio glow. It was definitely a male figure. But, Charlie hadn't called out for anybody, nor had anyone been at her place all day. Had someone perhaps...gotten in the door? He could've sworn he'd locked it behind him, to make sure they wouldn't be disturbed.

So then...who was this?

As he watched, anxiously transfixed, the figure before him slowly began to grow more defined, beyond just a mere outline. The details were becoming clearer – a striped suit, broad shoulders, choppy locks, arms folded behind his back – and with each piece revealed, the intruder began to feel smaller where he stood; far more aware of his own mortality.

Large tufts atop its head, almost like...ears? And a pair of prominent, ever-extending...antlers? What? Was this some sort of costume? Wide eyes, glowing with the same intensity as the dial behind him. No – the light was now entirely radiating from this bizarre interloper's gaze. His eyes were dials. It wasn't a getup. This stalker was rapidly becoming assured of one fact:

His new company wasn't human.

A wide, gleaming, golden grin. The static from before, that had seemingly petered out, was now rising yet again, though this time...it was as if he could hear more than just crackles and fizzling. There were, quite noticeably, voices, impossible to determine what they were saying. But it wasn't from any sort of music.

It seemed to be, almost...the various murmurs and whispers of an audience watching a show.

That garish smile was lengthening, to an unnatural degree. With horror, the male took note, of just how elongated and sharp those teeth were. The shadows were seeming to swarm around him, as though alive of their own accord. He could feel a great pressure; weight unlike any other, rooting him to the spot where he stood, crushing him into nothing with its presence. The sounds continued to build in his hearing, setting every last nerve on fire with panic and terror.

With slow, almost leisurely footsteps, the being was walking towards him. As though enjoying a casual stroll through the park. As it – he?? - drew nearer, the male suddenly remembered: the knife he held, so tightly in his trembling fist.

“HAH!” Swinging upwards wildly, he struck out at the creature – it was definitely not human by this point! - with a triumphant, crazed glint in his eyes. The blade swiped cleanly across the monster's face; he'd surely hit it head-on! So then, why, why, why...

...was there no blood?

A flicker then; the image before him was starting to warp and distort, as though...like a visual representation of static white noise. Wheezing crackling filled the air; he realized, in growing despair, that whatever this thing was...it was laughing at him.

He hadn't managed to hit it, and now it was taunting him for his failed efforts.

Looking down towards his feet, where Charlie's crumpled form should've been, his head was immediately forced forward once more. A sharp, clawed hand had wrapped itself around his neck, clutching under his chin and into his throat. He could feel the nails digging painfully into his skin, blood easily trickling forth as the flesh tore. The contact was excruciating, closest to that of a stabbing blade.

How the tables had turned.

The demon leaned in nearer, so very near, with barely any distance between the two of them – the same position he'd been in not a few minutes before with Charlie, in fact. There was an immediate explosion of crimson, all about his frozen, struggling form. That golden smile was opening wide. The shadows were swallowing and compressing him whole. The air was choking and arid, while his aches surged and grew, and the static continued to smolder mockingly.

It was as though he'd somehow stepped foot into Hell itself! Just what the heck had Charlie Magne been hiding from him this whole time – no, from everybody?!

Then...silence. Absolute oblivion.

…...

“CHARLIE!! What the fuck?! What were you thinking??”

It was a few hours later, after midnight. Charlie had come to on her kitchen floor, a neighbor shaking her frantically, before calling the cops.

'Alastor' had still been blaring, and the door was now wide open. Hence how and why she had been found. It seemed as though her assailant had gotten scared after she'd passed out, and booked it to who knows where. A report was made, once Charlie had been transported to the hospital for a checkup. Upon arrival, she'd wound up calling both of her dear friends.

Vaggie had practically flown across the city to reach her. Angel's coworkers, who'd just finished closing up for the night with him, had been more than willing to give him a ride, and even accompany him to see her. Apparently, he'd talked about her enough for both of them to be concerned as well to her condition.

Charlie was wincing at the scolding, but she understood where it was coming from. Vaggie was just really, really, really disturbed by what had happened. However, no matter how harsh her words, she was beyond relieved that her best friend was okay. It was more than obvious, with how tightly she wrapped her arms around Charlie in a hug, blinking back the tears in her lone eye.

Angel wasn't yelling, though there was a twinge of exasperation to his tone when he'd questioned just how the whole thing had gone down. “Ya didn't think t'just call out, and ask who was there?! A shady chump like that, showing up so late? Damn right you're allowed to be rude!”

Shaking his head, he proceeded to offer his own warm hug – goodness, she was practically drowning in his grasp! - and a few last words on the subject. “At least he ain't gonna be showin' his face 'round here anymore. We'll make sure of it.”

That final line sounded far more threatening than the rest. Charlie had heard hints, a while back, of Angel's family tree having ties to some...unsavory connections. He didn't keep in touch with most of his folks, but the thought had vaguely crossed her mind, if that's what he'd been referring to. Honestly, even for all she'd been through, Charlie sincerely hoped not. She didn't want Angel potentially putting himself back into harm's way just for some sort of street justice. So, she simply reassured him that the cops would most likely find her attacker first, and that she felt perfectly safe with all of them around. That seemed to do the trick.

It was as his coworkers were bringing up the question of why the door didn't have a peephole, or recommending cameras at the front station for the apartment, that the subject had finally been broached. “Charlie...why are you holding the radio?”

She did a bemused double-take then, seemingly having forgotten herself. When they'd come to collect her from the apartment...she'd gone and scooped up 'Alastor', to cart off with her. By this point, the sounds had ceased, as soon as she'd held him close. Although she'd received a few weird stares from the EMTs, they hadn't tried to dissuade her from bringing him along.

“He kinda...helped me again? If it wasn't for him going off, I wouldn't have gotten the chance to clobber the guy.” A pause. “I mean, I got knocked around more than he did, eheh. But after I went under, that was when he got spooked. That, plus the noise, was what must've driven him off.”

Another pause, as she looked down thoughtfully at the device in her hands. “So...I feel like I owe Al more than just a 'thank you' this time. I owe him my life.” Although her head and face still hurt, Charlie managed a small, warm smile, leaning down to kiss the top of the radio. The gathered group took in the display in thoughtful silence.

It was weird to her friends, but...she had a point. The noise was the main factor in attracting help to her troubled situation. Inanimate object though it – sorry, he – might've been, they were grateful for the thing's odd tendency to act up, at just the right times.

So, flashing a grin, Angel proceeded to tap a finger on its top. “Eh, why not? Thanks pal, for keeping our gal safe. She got a lil' banged up, but other than that, it's all good!” A sheepish wince then. “Just don't shock me again, huh? That kinda hurt.”

Vaggie sighed, rolling her eye, but offered a nod. “Yeah. What he said. Thanks...Alastor.” Then, a shake of her head. “I can't believe I just did that.” Charlie felt her spirits picking up at the display, as even Husk and Niffty – well, mostly Niffty – added in their own gratitude to the pile. They weren't obligated to, but it was still nice to see and hear.

A little while later, and everyone had left. Charlie was being kept for observation, just to make sure there was no other damage. As she lay in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines that beeped and whirred, she glanced over at the nightstand. This was where Alastor sat, silent in the mostly dark room.

It was comforting in a way she couldn't explain; like she wasn't alone. Not all of her friends had left. There was still one who remained – one who, even if they hailed from very differing times, had taken just as good care of her as anyone living, in his own quirky way.

If she believed in spirits and all that...maybe that's what was happening here? Perhaps there was somebody inside, looking out for her from beyond. It was a nice thought, even if, most likely, everything that had taken place up until then, had simply been the most well-timed of coincidences. It didn't really matter. Charlie was able to close her eyes, and drift off into a secure, trusting slumber.

As her breathing slowed, a flicker came from the tabletop. The dial on the old radio was brightening. The small glowing circle seemed to draw in all the available light around it, as a soft hum began to rise upon the air, growing stronger. Deep, crackling static, before suddenly...

A form now stood beside the bed, scratchy in its contouring like it were being channeled through a rough connection. But its hues were vivid, in various shades of crimson that towered over the sleeping figure in the cot. That same strange visage, that had come forth in the apartment earlier, now stood beside Charlie, though markedly tamer in its presence.

Wide red eyes surveyed the girl from behind a matching monocle, while thick ears twitched, as if responding to some sound or other. Those branching antlers were smaller now. The same great golden grin was in place, but this time decidedly more curious and amused in its placement. Nowhere near as terrifying as when that unfortunate soul had seen it hours before...upon being dragged down and torn apart to his grave in Hell.

Of course, nobody else would ever know this, heh. Dead men told no tales, and he wasn't about to reveal his secrets, either.

Leaning down over the girl, he took in her appearance: the kindhearted oddball who'd unofficially 'rescued' him from that junk shop. The girl who bore the same love of music and dance, along with radio, as he himself had, both in life...and the cursed beyond. That was where their interests separated, for her hands were nowhere near as stained as his. Nay; she was as pristine as the freshly fallen snow.

If angels truly were to exist...then, she would've been the closest counterpart.

A low sigh, more like a hiss, as he regarded her, almost wistfully. Perhaps, in another time...? If he had been another man? No; even as he was now, he still felt the same. Still the same towards this doe-eyed enigma of a human. Maybe he couldn't have her, but then...

...neither could anyone else. And he was more than capable of proving this point.

Gently, his lips brushed over her forehead. As his figure faded away, into the shadows and static he called home, a single pair of words lingered upon the air.

“You're welcome.”