Chapter Text
It was never meant to be this bad. He wasn’t sure how he had let himself slip like this. He always had such a grasp, a control over himself. He was the stable, responsible sibling. But here he was, hiding in the shadows of a gaudy hotel, all eight eyes fixated on his renegade, not-so-little brother.
Anthony was hanging around outside, leaning against a post and chain-smoking with some cyclopes. She was shorter in stature, with long poorly styled hair and slightly tattered clothing. Just another demon, he could tell. She’s just the type for Anthony to hang around. His brother never had good taste in company, postmortem, or otherwise. He didn’t need to hang around long to tell. He watched Anthony hand the cigarette—or at least that’s what he presumed it to be; knowing his brother it could be a joint—back to the girl and head inside. He let out his breath and turned away from the sight, bringing one of six hands up to rub his eyes. How did Anthony even end up in a joint like this? His mind ran wild with ideas. Redemption was never his brother’s game, so why was he playing as if it was? And to fight, so brutally, so recklessly, for some ridiculous hotel that was hell-bent on turning around the lives of sinners? Something felt wrong.
It started with that stupid broadcast in the city. Arackniss’ attention was immediately caught by the news that the extermination was supposedly canceled. Before he could even grasp what he had heard, he saw him. Anthony, standing in arms with not only a group of freaks but with the princess of hell herself. He couldn’t believe his eyes. No, really. He first thought he didn’t see it correctly. The flurry of pink and white only lasted a second before the broadcast moved on to another visual. But then, with much better clarity, there was Anthony brandishing a sawed-off tommy that was oddly catered to his aesthetic. His outfit was ridiculous to Arackniss; it made a mockery of the image his family worked so hard to uphold. Pink, pretty, downright girly designs had no place in the gang apparel. Arackniss tried his damnedest to forget about the crazed scene. When he met with his father to discuss the news, he said nothing about Anthony’s cameo, so neither did Arackniss. But the thought lingered in the back of his mind. Everything he did, he did it thinking about his brother. He knew his brother was in hell. He had figured it out quickly from hearing about his antics. He cringed every time one of his sorry excuses for a film appeared on television. His father damn near broke every monitor that dared to give Anthony screentime. Anthony was sort of a sore subject for the family. Most of them had made it down under, and not one of them mentioned the outcast. Arackniss couldn’t blame them; Anthony was wayward when he was alive, and a whore after he died. He even had trouble digesting it. But when he caught that glimpse of Anthony on the news, doing something downright heroic for once, it haunted him. It broke every memory that built up this characterization he had of his brother. He just had to figure out what was going on.
It was slow at first. Now and then, Arackniss would use his free time to follow Anthony to and from work. He felt dirty watching his brother walk into what he knew was a porn studio, but he bared his teeth and sucked it up like a man should. This was business to him, after all. If Anthony was putting on this front to make a joke of the family, which he must be doing, then Arackniss had a duty to make sure it was put to an end. After a couple of weeks, he upped the antics and started casing the hotel. He’d sit and watch from a distance, to see how much time he spent there. It was a lot of time. Practically all the time. It got boring very quickly. He watched the hotel get built from the ground up again. He thought Anthony must’ve had something to do with the design, with all the pink and gold lights, not to mention the not-so-subtle ‘xxx’ plastered in neon lights on the front of the building. Arackniss learned Anthony’s habits and the people he spent time with, hell, he felt he knew everything about his brother now. Years spent apart meant nothing now. He had a new, twisted, freaky picture of Anthony and frankly, he was boring. He spent all his time hanging around the hotel, while occasionally spending time at bars with a feline-esque demon and this cyclops here.
Speaking of which, Arackniss looked back at the post to see the girl was gone. With the coast clear, he began to make his exit, when a loud crack followed by an enormous cloud of pink smoke clouded his vision. With his first breath in, it clogged his throat with artificial fruity flavors and a burning sensation. He coughed and covered his mouth with one arm, looking around frantically for the source, as he pulled out a tiny, single-shot gun from his breast pocket hidden in his coat. An arm wrapped around his throat, locking him in against a very strong, but soft frame. Taken by surprise, the attacker was able to knock his gun out of his grasp.
“I wouldn’t make any sudden movements, ya creepy cunt. It won’t end well for ya.”
The voice belonged to a female and, as the smoke cleared, he could strain his multitude of eyes to get a glimpse of the face.
“Fuckin’ cyclops,” he choked out. “You don’t wanna fight me, missy.”
The cyclops laughed. “Oh-ho, but I really do.” She tightened her grip around his neck. Arackniss didn’t like to fight women, but he got more comfortable with the idea after living in hell for a while. He found that most of the ladies down here fought just as hard, if not harder than men, and initiated the fights twice as often. “Imma give you a chance to explain why you’ve been hangin’ around here, cause I’m in a good mood. Last thing I need is a little twerp like you ruinin’ tha night for me.”
Arackniss hissed and began an attempt to get himself loose. If anything got under his skin, it was any reference to his size. Arackniss wasn’t proud to admit that Anthony got all the legs in the family. “You bitch, get off! You don’t need to know what I’m doin’ and why. It ain’t none of ya business!” He used his extra arms to his advantage to pull and yank at the cyclops’ grasp. She didn’t take the tussle lightly, doubling down on her grip.
“Damn, you are slippery, you fuzzy fuck.” The two wrestled for a couple of minutes, finding themselves on the ground scrambling for his abandoned gun in the grass. The girl managed to get on top of Arackniss, holding two sets of arms above his head while pinning the last set down with her knees. “God—Damn it! This is ridiculous! You better have a damn good reason to be here, or I’m hanging your mutilated corpse in the fucking lobby.”
Arackniss was never good at hand-to-hand combat. His size, both height and muscle-wise, put him at a major disadvantage. He glared up at the demon. She was unsuspectingly strong for her build. It was impressive, but also a pretty shit scenario for him. He was never going to be able to tell his father about this trainwreck. “I told ya, it ain’t ya business! Are ya deaf?”
“It is my fuckin’ business, you’re outside my friends’ hotel! I ain’t gonna let you fuck with them. You wouldn’t be the first sorry excuse for a fuck trophy I’ve had to handle”
Arackniss had to take a moment to process what she just said. Fuck trophy? That was a new one. “What?” He shook his head. “I ain’t here to fuck with this shitty hotel. It ain’t worth my time.” He wasn’t sure how he was going to follow up that admission. He couldn’t exactly explain the fact that he had been stalking his estranged brother for months with some God-given mission.
“Then why are ya here.” She glared down at him for a moment, leaning in close. “You’re here for someone, aren’t you,” she asked grimly. “Is it Angel?” Arackniss nearly gagged at the name. He refused to use Anthony’s stage name he used for pornography. It was disgusting. His face must’ve twisted with discomfort because the cyclops leaned back and smirked. “It is!” She laughed. “What? You come here to jump the gun on him?” She tilted her head, pushing more of her weight down on Arackniss. He groaned. This was ridiculous. He never should’ve come out here. “You wanna fuck him, ya freak?”
Arackniss’ jaw dropped. He couldn’t even process the idea of that, let alone imagine it. “Fuck! No! What’s wrong with you,” he shrieked, beginning to thrash. “Get off me! Fuck.” He felt violated now. He really shouldn’t have come here. This whole plan was a waste. How could he ever expect it to work out? What did he even expect to happen? He knew his goal at some point, but all of that was clouded by the immense discomfort he was feeling now. The cyclops seemed confused by his reaction. Of course, she did. Arackniss was sure his reaction wasn’t one of the usual demons. But he couldn’t even feign being ok with the concept.
“The fuck you want then. Did Valentino send you out here?” Arackniss choked on an answer. He, for better or for worse, didn’t have to scrounge up something to say as they both looked towards a familiar voice not too far away.
“Cherri! I know you ain’t still smoking, bitch! You out here?” Anthony stood in the entryway of the hotel, looking around for the cyclops—Cherri. Arackniss looked back up, exchanging looks with her. He could see the cogs turning behind her eye. Oh no.
“Well.” She began to stand up, tugging him along with her. “Let’s find out why you’re really here.”
Oh fucking no. Arackniss dug his heels into the ground. “No, no really. I’ll go.” He shook his head feverishly. He couldn’t have Anthony knowing why he was here. He couldn’t face him. He hadn’t seen him alive in decades now. The last time he did see Anthony alive, they had gotten into a fistfight ending with his brother storming off. He was found hours later, a needle hanging from his arm in a rundown crack den in the city. He didn’t make it. Arackniss always felt it was a bittersweet end for his brother.
Cherri laughed at his struggle. “Oh, come on, peepin’ Tom! Don’t you wanna meet your eye candy?” She pulled Arackniss behind her, with much struggle. He was not going down easy. “Angel! I got a surpriiise for you,” She called over her shoulder. “Quit fuckin’ squirmin’ damn it.” Arackniss pulled against her tugs. He could see Anthony looking towards them. He could see a getaway. It was dark enough to mask his features. He just had to figure out a way… Arackniss looked at Cherri one last time before leaning down and biting her wrist. He sunk his fangs in as deep as he could, hearing her cry out in pain. It made her let go, which was all he needed. He released her arm and made a run for it. He never liked taking that route. It felt cheap, not to mention his fangs secreted venom that he always feared would be traced back to him. It wasn’t fatal. Hell, it wasn’t even that bad. It caused irritation akin to a rash that hung around too long with an accompanying spur of nausea. Either way, it got him just enough time to run. He didn’t stop until he made it into the city, where he finally leaned against a building to catch his breath. In the mirror, he noticed he had lost his hat in the scuffle.
“Fuck.”