Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Angel hit send on the txt msg to Cherri explaining that he was just going to grab some fresh bagels from the kitchen for them to share. She was already waiting for him at the front gates, unwilling to be seen any closer to the Hotel unless she was blowing it up.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs his phone pinged with a reply. [Rippa Rita!]
He pocketed the device and hustled to the kitchen, he knew his explosive friend’s patience would not last long.

Every Tuesday the Princess held a Commitment Free Open Day for any sinners who were interested in staying at the Hotel to come partake in Morning Tea and listen to her deluded ramblings.

No one ever came.
But that didn’t stop her optimistically organising full catering for it every week without fail.

He ducked into the kitchen to the delightful smell of freshly baked goods. Charlie and Vaggie were deep in conversation around the island counter and Niffty was darting about in her usual manner.

He bypassed the disgusting drip coffee the girls were drinking and went over the expresso machine, thrilled to find it was freshly cleaned and prepped. He set about making some paper cups to go for himself and Cherri.

Behind him Vaggie seemed to be trying to talk the Princess out of yet another hairbrained idea “I don’t know Charlie, aren’t the older sinners known to be a bit unstable? They could be dangerous.”

“But that’s just it Vaggie! They’ve been down here long enough to have really thought about what they’ve done! Why, I’ll bet they’re just aching for a chance to turn things around! Who better to approach about a chance at redemption!”

“But how would we even communicate that with them? We don’t exactly speak any of the older versions of the modern languages let alone speak caveman.” The cyclops tried to joke.

“What do you think Al?” Charlie rounded on the booth in the corner of the kitchen that only one person ever sat at. Angel hadn’t even noticed he was in the room.

The powerful demonic Overlord sighed from behind his newspaper, clearly having not wanted to be drawn into this conversation. He lowered it to the bench with a frank look in his eyes.
“Charlie in my experience people are inclined to become worse the longer they are in Hell, not better. The ones that don’t, tend to end up erased fairly early on.”

Angel winced and looked back down at the coffee machine as he frothed the milk, The Radio Demon had a point.

“And I’d bet you’d know all about that, Huh?” Vaggie crossed her arms and glared at the infamous monster that was their so-called gracious Facility Manager.

Charlie meanwhile looked downcast at his words. He continued, ignoring her girlfriend’s comment. “Hence why you don’t see that many people from more than a few centuries ago, let alone any cavemen.” The Eldritch Horror chuckled as he raised his novelty mug to his face.
Vaggie seethed.

“Hell rewards evil with longevity, the worse a person is the longer they last.” He took a sip of his coffee like he was explaining to a toddler why the sky was red.
“You won’t find a single sinner down here who is older than a few thousand.”
Spiel over the deer went back to his newspaper.

Charlie looked like she wanted to point out something, but was cut off.

“The Queen was an exception to the rule.” The demon bluntly added, as an article on the new extermination schedule, along with one about some off brand theme park burning down, hid his face from view once more.

“Wait, really? Then why are there so many souls down here, Hell is overpopulated isn’t it?” Vaggie, seemingly already forgotten her distrust of everything out of the Overlord’s mouth.

“Oh Earth’s population has been growing exponentially since the industrial revolution, thus Hells population has also exploded.
Before the invention of steam power, the Pride Rings landscape was more akin to a patchwork of medieval holdings.
In fact some of the unrenovated Ars Goetia Palaces in the outer Circles still resemble stone castles. I’m surprised you didn’t know that Charlie.” Alastor sarcastically chided.

The Princess mumbled something about skipping history class and having never really left the Royal Circle or Pentagram City much. Before being rather willingly distracted by Niffty bouncing up and down trying to hand her a jar to open.

Vaggie meanwhile looked like she was having an identity crisis. “But the exterminations started way before the industrial revolution, if Hell wasn’t overpopulated back then…”

Alastor scornfully looked over his newspaper at her. “Please, tell me you’re not that Naïve.”

Lost in thought Angel jumped when his phone pinged in his breast pocket. Taking it out and looking at it he realised he’d been completely distracted from Cherri Bomb.
[Fuck me double dead Angel! I’m not here to fuck spiders! And even if I was your sorry arse is still missing!]

Oh Shit, he’d better go.

With a cappuccino for himself in one hand, and a flat white for Cherri in the other. He used his remaining hands to grab a stack of bagels and hightailed it out of the kitchen.
Charlie’s “Angel! Those are for…” chasing him down the hall as he made his escape.

Chapter Text

The heat of the day was starting to peak as Vaggie dodged the shit covered streets of this part of Pentagram City. She tried to copy in Charlie’s footsteps.

The princess was walking just in front of her, eyes glued to her phone. A lifetime of living here, knowing nothing else, had made keeping her shoes clean second nature to the lovable blond.

Vaggie wondered how long it would take her to pick up this skill, more than three years apparently. She wished she could still fly, none of this had been a problem for her… before.

She grimaced as she gave the back of her girlfriend’s head a guilty look.

Charlie had been giving up on anyone showing up to morning tea earlier and earlier of late, on one hand it saddened her to see her girlfriend loose hope in something.

On the other it was probably a good thing, it meant they didn’t waste time just hanging around the hotel all day.

They’d interrogated the Radio Demon a while longer as to where to find the older sinners, but he’d simply maintained that they’d all been shipped off to Wonderland by this point.

When pressed about where in Hell that was, the egocentric piece of shit had outright refused to tell them. Insisting it was no place for a young princess.

Vaggie bristled at the thought of that creepy smug asshole. She still felt it was a mistake letting him in. Sure they’d needed his help, but he was clearly a spirit of pure evil!

Not to mention an unpredictable source of danger. Who knew what mysterious and wicked plan the violent monster was cooking up! And that’s assuming he didn’t go cooking up their guests the moment they had any.

That was the problem, they needed more guests. She wasn’t even sure Angel counted at this point, so that just left Pentious. And he hadn't exactly ended up with them on purpose. Maybe she should set Angel to work managing the Hotel’s social media accounts, make him earn his keep.

She sighed, Charlie would never agree to forcing anyone to do something.

To be honest with herself, the thing that scared her most about having the infamous Radio Demon live with them, was the fact that she wasn’t sure she could take him.

Sure, he’d been perfectly friendly so far. Even if less than helpful, seemingly for his own amusement.

And she’d killed an awful lot of sinners in her time among Heaven’s angelic legions.

She grimaced again at the thought, Alastor wasn’t lying when he pointed out the less evil sinners tended to be erased first.

She’d seen that first hand, thousands of souls who had probably only missed out on heaven by the thinnest margins.
Culled by her and her sisters purely because they didn’t have what it took to make it in Hell and had ended up out on the streets during the extermination.

She was so lost in her mental anguish, as what she had done threatened to overwhelm her, that she completely missed the giant puddle of god knows what in front of her.

A strong hand of her shoulder, pulling her back from the vial mass, shook her out of her thoughts.
“You ok?” Charlie was looking at her with deep concern in the huge sweet eyes.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. Really.” She tried to reassure her love, looking everywhere else as she lied. “We nearly there?”

Charlie didn’t look convinced, but let her steer the conversation away. Looking down at her phone again “Almost, should be right down… here.”
As the princess took off down a side street and Vaggie fell in step again.

Yeah, so she’d killed a lot of demons. But she was still scared of Alastor, truth is she had no idea what his power level really was. She had absolutely no clue how she would stack up against any of the Overlords really.

They weren’t exactly out and about during exterminations. Before being banished she’d never even seen what any of them looked like.

A stray thought brought her musings to a screeching halt. She’d always felt so powerful during the cleanses, so… invulnerable.
But.. what if she wasn’t strong, what if it was just because they were only purging the powerless demons that it made them feel so.

What if Heaven’s Amy was weak?

Vaggie shook her head to rid herself of the disturbing thought, it didn’t matter if she wasn’t strong enough to take Alastor.
She was till impervious to harm from him and his demonic magics. As long as she held true and was strong willed, she could protect people from him, she’d beat that fucker in the end.

He may have refused to give them the location of this Wonderland place.
Be he had at least told them the locations where the newly damned souls tended to fall from the Earthly plane. Something about magical convergence points under the pentacle where the veil between worlds was thinnest?

Vaggie hadn’t understood any of it, but that didn’t matter. They had what they needed.

She blinked as the dim and narrow side street opened up onto a large square.
They’d arrived.

Apparently there used to be a city block here, but the constant falling bodies had caused too much property damage to be worth maintaining.

They heard a scream from above and Vaggie looked up just in time to see a newly materialised demon to plummet out of scarlet sky and immediately get stuck in a glary tree with an undignified "Oof!"

Alastor’s theory was that these freshly formed sinners would be their best bet for recruiting for the Hotel, all scared and confused they’d jump at the offer of shelter.
And they’d be far more likely to just be normal people still, untainted by Hell’s designs.

She hoped he was right, but it seemed he was also right about it being swamped with Vee recruiters. They were already crowded around the tree trunk shouting up at the very confused new arrival.

When Charlie had asked him if he did the same thing he had simply said “Quality over Quantity Princess. Any demon stupid enough to sell their soul to the first fool that comes along is not a soul worth having.”

As they walked around the perimeter of the square ogling the bizarre scene, Vaggie did notice a huge number of fly-posters plastered all around the place. They covered every conceivable inch of wall and sign post space in the immediate area.

She recognised Camilla Carmine’s Logo on the ones advertising jobs in the Industrial Sector and on the ones seeking Weapons Experts.

There were even listings advertising Zeezi’s gang and franchise of Kaiju nightclubs. Along with the flyers of a number of other Overlords that she was aware of but had never seen.
Including the Print Media, the Water Works, the Electricity Grid and even Helluva Post.

She was about to comment on it when she recognised dimly that if she was a sinner, none of this should be surprising to her. And elected to keep her mouth shut and keep looking.

Among them she spotted several copies of a rather stylish Art Deco poster advertising to people who had worked in Radio and Radio Adjacent industries in life to come apply for an interview.

She also observed a bunch of handbills posted next to them saying “Beware the Radio Demon.” They were nothing new she’d seen them all around the city. What she hadn’t seen elsewhere was the Vee employee handing them out to people who stopped to look at the larger prints.

He wasn’t doing a very good job, most people were ignoring him. As they walked close by to one she could see why, those were some good benefits being offered.

Surely, they must be a trap. She couldn’t exactly imagine the murderous agent of chaos her girlfriend insisted on keeping around, being a particularly good boss.

She scoffed.
No, they must just be for luring people in to their doom.

“So… shall we get stuck in?” Charlie’s smile was infectious as she rolled up her sleeves and handed Vaggie half the flyers they had bought with them.

“Sure Babe, let’s Do this!” Vaggie matched her girlfriend's energy as they charged into the fray.

Chapter Text

It was well after lunchtime when they dragged their aching and despondent feet in though the Hotel’s worn threshold in utter defeat.

Charlie gave a forlorn sigh. That, had not gone well.

The mob of Vee recruiters, while viciously competing with each other for the commission of bringing fresh meat in. Were also surprisingly cohesive when it came to not letting anyone else try to butt in.

Every time they had tried to get anywhere near any of Hell’s new arrivals, they had immediately been met with a stonewall of backs, barricading them completely from the freshly spawned Sinners.

Charlie had tried to excuse her way through the crowd but they had deliberately impeded her at every turn. She always tried to see the best in her people, but it was clear that they were doing it on purpose.

It was all so frustrating. She knew most people would tell her she was being too meek and that she needed to be more assertive. But she just couldn’t bring herself to do it, it was so mean.

She’d really struggled with her self-confidence since the incident with Angel’s boss. She shuddered at the memory of his slimy tongue wriggling up her arm, leaving a trail of red goop on her skin in its wake.

Charlie felt guilty that she still hadn’t told Vaggie about that. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop her overly protective girlfriend from storming down to the Entertainment District, spear in hand.

It just seemed like she could do nothing right, not just recently, well, ever.
Truth was, she’d always been a failure. She had no idea what the reason could be, it was just… her.

Vaggie had been way better than her at charging into the throng, but she felt she had to call it when she saw her girlfriend go down from a particularly nasty elbow to the ribs.
As desperate for Hotel guests as they where it wasn’t worth getting injured over.

She groaned as she rubbed the palms of her hands into her eyes to stop the tears from forming.

Feeling crestfallen, she took a deep breath and tried to be cheerful. Straining herself into a positive outlook.

She could do this, she just knew it. She would succeed and prove all her Hell School teachers wrong.
And along the way she'd show that bitch Helsa what the Princess of Hell was actually capable of too.

Yes! This Hotel was going to work, she told herself sternly. It would work because it was her destiny and she believed in it. Another failure was not an option.

Razzle and Dazzle had set up a table with the mornings leftovers for people to help themselves to in the middle of the lobby.

Vaggie dejectedly wandered over to it to grab a late lunch.
“So… what’s on the agenda for tonight’s activity?”

Charlie smiled weakly as she joined her, she knew her lover was trying to distract her from yet another miserable defeat. But she was so exhausted she just let it happen.

She picked up a doughnut and absentmindedly played with it. “Well, I was thinking we could all sit in a circle in the parlour and everyone could take turns sharing how they died. You know, kinda share intimate stories and talk about how it made them feel....”

“Err, I’m not sure that’s a good idea Babe, how people died can be pretty personal.” Vaggie twiddled her fingers nervously, staring intently at her cuticles.

Before she could ask if her girlfriend was alright, Husk’s gruff voice chimed in from behind the bar. “There’s some pretty dumb ways too, people might not want to share out of embarrassment.”

“I don’t… What do you mean?” She turned to the curmudgeonly feline.

“Well, er, there are plenty of stupid ways to die. Like being mistaken for game and shot in the head.”
The old bartender chuckled at the rather unfortunate hypothetical and she noticed there was a faint screech of static from where Alastor was seated by the fireplace on the opposite side of the lobby, reading a book.

“Oh, well, yes I suppose that would be…”

“Or even worse, tripping over the neighbour’s cat and tumbling headfirst down a flight of stairs.” A jovial Radio voice interrupted her.

“That is… oddly specific.”

Husk suddenly growled and stalked out of the room, abandoning his post at the front desk.

Oh dear, seemed like she’d upset someone else now, she really could do nothing right could she.

Charlie went to go after him to see what was wrong but a gentle hand on her arm from Vaggie stopped her. She was confused, but recognised her girlfriend was right. Husk clearly wanted to be alone right now.

Ok, so if the Sinners apparently didn’t like sharing how they died, maybe they’d be open to talking about how they lived?
It is what had gotten them sent down here in the first place, after all. And it would really help for her to get a full picture of their situations.

She gasped as a lightbulb when off in her head. “Vaggie, I’ve got it!”
Grabbing her girlfriend by the hand Charlie ran back out of the Hotel, her heart thumping with excitement.
They needed to go to the Royal Archives immediately.

Chapter Text

Husk was back at his meaningless post by the time the Princess and her girlfriend returned, his merciless lord thankfully nowhere in sight.

And he knew Alastor wasn’t just hiding in the dark corners of the room. After being enthralled to the bastard for so long he’d leant how to pick the difference between a normal shadow and the demonic shade.

He had been mid swill when her heard the old front doors creak open upon their return. The ornery feline hadn’t needed to look at over to them to know who it was, his animal olfactory system informing him instead.

From his stool behind the bar, the barkeep watched the ladies other side of the lobby with a mild detachment. They were working on decorating parlour as he slowly got drunk from glass after glass of free whisky that he was allowed to help himself to.

The Princess had set up large cork boards around the three walls across from him and she and her girlfriend were in the process of pinning all manner of colourful crap to them.

He couldn’t quite make out what it all was from here, but the Charlie seemed practically giddy about it all. He couldn’t tell from here what mood Vaggie was in, but she seemed to be going along with it.

The little Egg Bois were running around underfoot, having long since been distracted from “helping”. They were now just chasing each other with makers trying to draw on one another’s shells.

Husk took another drink from his bottle, drowning himself in the distilled liquor he craved.

Thoughts drifted unbidden to his tit for tat earlier with Alastor, he cringed inwardly. That was stupid of him, talk about dumb way to die. Ha!

He didn’t know why he did that, he just couldn’t help himself but be blunt around the demon. Used to be in times past that the Overlord seemed to appreciate it, but recently he had just been taking cheap jabs.

The former Overlord knew that he’d been going too far of late.
If he wasn’t careful, it would all end with his soul ripped apart by its owner.

Husk stared into his drink, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad…

It was not the first time he’d thought that, but it only ever took remembering the tormented staticky screams he’d heard over the Eldritch Horror’s radio broadcasts to dissuade him from it.
That was no way to go, he shuddered.

He lifted his bottle to his lips and threw his head back in a long swig, draining the bottle. When he lowered it again, he had to dig his claws into the countertop to stop himself from falling off his stool.
As it was he almost spit the amber liquid out in surprise as Charlie had unexpectedly appeared right in front of him.

“Hey Husk! Would you mind fetching Al for me? I have a surprise for him I think he’ll Really like!” Her strong sent of cinnamon assaulting his senses.
Hah! She sure did put the Hell in sheltered didn’t she.

“Yeah, sure thing Princess.” He slurred slightly as she thankfully moved on to the next thing that caught her attention, that kid was way to happy for him to deal with in anything but small bursts.

Stretching from a long day of tending an empty bar, he stiffly slid off his stool to go fetch his malevolent owner.

As he stumbled passed the mood board, he froze as he saw what was on it. In amongst the colourful pins and cutesy custom stickers.

Oh shit, the old cat felt his intoxicated blood run cold.
The Boss was not going to like this, not one bit.

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The Radio Demon was in his hotel room sitting at his desk, a stack of official papers in front of him.

He was very proud of the Empire that he had built, and was even more proud of the talented collection of souls he had amassed.

Alastor was quite the absent boss to most of his thralls. His monopoly over Hell’s Radio industry ran so smoothly that he barely had to be involved these days.

Unlike Vox he didn’t feel the need to micro manage his people. And given most of the content in recent years was of little interest to him, he preferred to rely on the expertise of those it did.

He’d found giving them the free range of his vague disinterest tended to get the best work out of them. Happy and protected thralls, were productive thralls after all.

The fear of him getting involved being enough to keep them on track. All his people knew, that if they saw him it usually meant they were in deep trouble.

Besides, this naturally left him free to entertain himself with other projects.
Like this hotel he supposed.

So all he really had to do on a regular basis to keep the company going was to sign off on things.

He removed his favourite fountain pen from its antler themed rest and put his signature to a document authorising the establishment of a new station.

One that focused on a genre of music that had recently grown in popularity called Electro Swing.
Hmm, interesting. He might give that one a listen to at some point… maybe.

He chuckled as next he picked up a proposal from one of his favourite enforcers, to create a station that played nothing but ABBA. He knew it wasn’t a serious request, more of an inside joke at this point.
But he denied it all the same.

He knew accepting that offer for a Mammon only Station, that ran nothing but subliminal advertising disguised as songs, didn’t exactly mesh with his principles.

But when a Deadly Sin like Greed wanted to throw money at you for something, you took it and just moved on. Or they’d find some other way to get what they wanted.

It wasn’t a hill worth dying on.
It’s not like anyone listened to it outside the stores that played it anyway.

He was just reaching for the contract renewal on the ten-year lease Voxtech had on access to the radio waves TV and Wi-fi needed to function, when a rapping at the door drew him from his musings.

With a wave of his hand he banished the sensitive documents safely to his pocket dimension and stood to answer it.

He gave the air a quick sniff as he retrieved his coat from the back of the chair, he was met with the distinct smell of old spice and black label. Husker.

He honestly didn’t know what the perpetually inebriated Cat’s game was these days. Seemed he was always pushing his buttons, something he should know better than.

At times it was almost like he was trying to get himself erased as a way out. But whenever Alastor would turn around and threaten him with just that, he would cower in abject terror.

Perhaps he did want to end it all, but was just too much of a coward to do it himself.
Well too bad, he was too useful to discard that easily.

Not that he should care, not that he cared. Alastor’s ear twitched.
He didn’t care about anyone at the hotel… save maybe Niffty.

They were in Hell after all, the more people one allowed themselves to be concerned with down here the quicker one ended up double dead.

And when in a position of power like he was, that tended to result in the termination of those close to you too. Alastor winced at the implications as he reached for the door handle.

“What is it?” He snapped as he swung the door open, he was still annoyed at his thrall for the jab about his death earlier.

“The Princess has requested your presence in the lobby, she says she has something to show you.” The grouchy mixologist monotoned, staring at the door frame.

“Alright, I’ll be there shortly.” He replied tersely.

Dismissed, the morose feline sullenly headed off down the corridor, in the opposite direction of the lobby. That did not bode well.

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As he shadowed down the building to the lobby, Alastor noticed Niffty scurry away when she saw him. Hmm, not good. It was one thing for Husker to be afraid of an outburst from him, but Niffty?

Just what had the Princess gone and done this time?

The Radio Demon braced himself for the worst.

Chapter Text

It had been a long time since the charismatic Radio Host had been left dumbstruck.

He knew he’d been visibly shaking, his forced smile wavering, shadows and garbled radio noises seeping off him in waves as he glared at the offending notice bored.

He had no idea if his eyes had turned to dials or not, he didn’t much care.
He couldn’t even speak, it was all he could do to just barely contain his rage.

When that gormless Princess had asininely asked him if he was “ok,” he’d immediately fled into the darkness, not being able to take it anymore.

What an imbecilic question! “Are you ok?” Alastor growled dangerously.
He was so angry he couldn’t trust himself in that moment not to ruin all the progress he’d made with her.

How dare she, how Fucking dare she! Alastor paced back and forth in front of the fireplace in his hotel suite, literally fuming dark energy.

If that witless bitch Vaggie really wanted to protect her she should be protecting her form making such bad… no, shiyé decisions! not enabling them!

He'd been surprised to see it had been colourised correctly, by magic one would assume. He'd be annoyed at the pin carelessly shoved through the print if it had been any other photo. The saccharine nonsense Charlie had surrounded it with made him sick.

By Satan’s scrawny whelp! What was she even thinking? Prying into people’s personal lives like that and pinning it up for all of Hell to see!

He had no idea how long he’d been marching back and forth for when a timid knocking at his door ripped him back to the present.

He lurched to a stop, eye twitching uncontrollably.

Sniffing the hair he was met with a mixture of apple and cinnamon… Putain.

He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. Control, Control, he MUST stay in Control.

“Enter.” He commanded curtly.

The door creaked loudly as it slowly inched opened, a blond ponytail and oversized eye appearing around the corner. Alastor felt his smile straining as he narrowed his crimson eyes at her.

“Heeey Al… you kinda left in a bit of a hurry back there.” The Princess tentatively slipped into the room and as she closed the door behind her, he noted that she was alone.

That must of taken some doing, he sneered, to convince Vaggie to let her come up here by herself.

“I er… I just wanted to make sure you were, ok?” There was that word again, his static rose. Charlie chuckled nervously at his silent treatment, the noise grating on Alastor’s ears and patience.

“Why, whatever do you mean Charlie ‽ I’m just peachy keen my dear!” His words dripping with sarcasm as she fidgeted under his glare.

She went to say something but he spoke over her. “Indeed, there’s nothing quite like the thrill of someone using their nepotistic position to go behind your back and dig up your past… which was NOT public knowledge. Only for them to then post it up for the world to see without even consulting you.” His voice was jovial but his smiling expression did nothing to hide his contempt.

She tried to speak again but he raised his voice. “And Then! Spring it on you and expect you to not only be happy about them invading your privacy… But also want you to then talk about it with everyone and share your fucking feelings!” He realised he’d resumed his pacing as he’d started to yell and had to stop himself.

He snapped his neck to look at her.

She was staring wide eyed in shock at his rant, before visibly deflating in shame in front of him.

He was being too callous with her, he knew that. The delicate little omelette that she was. But he was just so, so angry.

He turned from her as he took in another deep breath from his Bayou… Control, control, he needed to be in control.

He let the lungful of swampy air calm him as he slowly turned back to face her, his trademark smile finally stabilised.

“Charlie. It is one thing to do due diligence on making sure the people you meet are who they say they are, this is Hell after all. But it is entirely another matter to do what you have done down in that lobby. You need to ask for consent before airing people’s lives in public like that.” He admonished sternly.

“Oh… ok.” She whispered with the distinct air of a kicked puppy, obviously still in shock and struggling to prosses.

The Overlord watched the Princess carefully, she was clearly vulnerable right now… easy to manipulate.

Hmm, perhaps honesty was the best policy here. If he told her the truth, or at least a partial truth. It may go miles toward earning her confidence. And if she felt she was being entrusted with some deep dark secret of his she would be more likely to keep it quiet.

Yes, he might just be able to turn this situation around to his advantage after all.

He made a dramatic sigh. “Charlie, that was the last photo taken of my Mother before she died... Before my Father killed her.”

The effect was immediate, he watched in vindictive satisfaction as the silly Princess’s face turned to abject horror at his words.

“Father had been beating me, for why I don’t even recall anymore. And he was taking it too far, I was on the brink of death when my dear Mother finally snapped. She got between us and, well… became the focus of his attention.”

He turned from her so she wouldn’t see his face as he scowled, looking out over his bayou. Remembering how his Father had gotten the kitchen knife away from her.

The last thing he saw before falling unconscious was his beloved Manmon on the floor next to him, covered in blood. Whose he couldn’t tell, probably all of theirs.
A deranged grin on her face as she told him to remember to smile.

One of his ears twitched as he turned back to the Princess with a nonchalant shrug. “When I awoke in the Hospital weeks later and covered in stitches, she had already been buried. And my Father was long gone, fled to who knew where.” He chuckled.

Charlie was standing stock still in absolute stupefaction, tears already streaming down her face.

The ramifications of what he’d told her apparently finally sinking in as she started to hyperventilate. “Oh my god Alastor I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I.. oh no, and I put it on the board, I just sprung it on you… I’m sososososo Soorry!” She was increasingly becoming bent over and pulling on her own hair as she rambled.

He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, that’s quite alright Princess.” It fucking wasn’t, but whatever got her to shut up.

As well intentioned as the Princess was, she really needed to stop acting like this. It was terribly childish behaviour and she was far too old for it.

Not a promising state for a potential leader to be in.

“Did… did they ever find him?” Her eyes pleaded with him to tell her that his Father was caught by the proper authorities.

Alastor resisted the sadistic smile that ached to creep across his face.
“No. They never found any of him.”

If she’d caught what he’d said she didn’t show it.

Her heaving sobs started to die down as she pulled herself together and he could see the new train of thought wash across her face. “Oh… did.. you didn’t end up in an.. an orphanage did you?” She whispered surreptitiously.

Alastor repressed an eye roll, of course the nosey Princess would want more details about his traumatic childhood like he was some kind of fucked up Hella-novella.

“No. I ended up with my maternal Grandmother, with financial support from my paternal Grandparents.”

“Oh… did you get to spend a lot of time with you paternal Grandparents?”

Alastor briefly considered how to explain the concept of passé blanc, but stopped himself. No more questions, he’d had enough of her probing.

“No.”

She flinched at his curtness. He didn’t know what it was about this naïve girl that reawakened his pater… Alastor flicked an ear. That made him want to tutor her about the world. But that was not what he was here for, not really.

“More importantly…” He began as she stared off at the middle distance, clearly a million miles away. “Need I remind you that I am here as a member of Staff. I am the Hotel’s Facility Manager and Host. I am not a guest, I am not a participant in this redemption project. And while I am happy to be present, I would appreciate it if I was not included in these little phycological experiments of yours.”

The Princess looked downcast at her hooves like a reprimanded child as he laid down his ground rules.

He felt an unwelcome pang of something at her dejected posture and sighed. “I realise you mean well my dear. But Miss Vaggie is very right about one thing about me. I have no interest in changing.”

Charlie raised her gaze to meet his, clearly trying to say something but being unable to. She looked like she was about to burst into tears again and he felt an unbidden urge to reassure her.
“Oh now, now, chin up Charlie. I’m sure you’ll have more eager sinners to focus on in no time.” He didn’t know why he was telling her this.

“But until then I must ask you to leave me out of it. I have a great deal of enemies you know and it would not do for any of them to think me weak. The Hotel may be put at risk if they did.”

She sniffled and wiped her tears away on her sleeve as she nodded in acceptance of his logic.

“And I will certainly not be participating in any of the group exercises.”

Her attention flew back up at him with wide eyes of bitter disappointment, before apparently having an idea. “Can Husk and Niffty be involved?” She asked in a small voice.

He considered it for a moment. That could be quite entertaining, but he didn’t particularly want their productivity being messed with. They had work to do after all.

He settled on a compromise. “If they choose to,” Charlie squeaked in excitement and he quickly raised a finger, “ONLY if they choose to. And I must ask that you also not pry into their pasts either.”

Her seeking information on his thralls could lead her to information on him, he couldn’t have that. He needed to be in control of what she learned. Far too many people knew too much about him already, Zestial in particular.

Seemingly satisfied, the Princess nodded vigorously, bouncing from foot to foot.

Once she had come down from her giddy high at being permitted this scrap, she composed herself. “I’ll, err, I’ll go take it down. The Photo, I mean.” She turned to leave.

“Oh, and Charlie?” He singsonged after her just as she was about to disappear.
The Princess pivoted back to face him in the doorway.

“I’d get rid of that photo of Angel’s family too, if I were you.” She looked confused, but nodded as she accepted his suggestion without question.

Good, perhaps there was hope for Hell’s Princess after all.

Last thing they needed was Angel having another mental break-down in the lobby. Not that he cared about the spider of course.

But as entertaining for him as that rather dramatic scene last week had been, the arachnid had nearly broken a very expensive bottle of Cognac when he had thrown his glass at Husker. And Alastor didn’t like it when his things were in harm’s way.

Charlie once more made to leave before swiveling back yet again. “And Al? I’m sure your mother would be very proud of you.” She glanced up at the ceiling and it took him a split second to realise she was referencing his mother being in Heaven, watching over him.

Despite himself, Alastor felt a twinge of fondness for the girl. She could be downright adorable at times. He smiled quietly at her naïveté, trusting that she would misinterpret it as warmth.

Alastor watched as the Princess finally left him in peace.

It was going to be a very delicate balance between teaching that overly optimistic young lady to view the world with a more critical eye, while also maintaining his grip on her.

Satisfied he was alone, he waved a green glowing hand and door clicked as it locked. He strolled over to his bookcase, reaching up he pulled one of the dustier tomes from the shelf and placed it on his leather top desk.

Flicking through to the correct page, his eyes lingered on the original artefact for a brief moment. He much preferred this version.

But his gaze ultimately came to rest on the bottom right-hand corner of the page. A genuinely warm smile seeped onto the Radio Demon’s features as he reminded himself, all’s well that ends well.