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Valentine’s Day was a busy time at the Hazbin Hotel. Charlie had planned all manner of activities including speed dating, DIY chocolate covered strawberries, and a presentation on the language of flowers. She and Vaggi were so busy throughout the day, it seemed like they’d hardly have any time to celebrate their own romance.
The little seraphim portaled in to deliver gifts and flowers from Pentious to Cherri. Niffty presented Baxter with a real heart—truly the only acceptable kind—and then they rushed down to his lab to dissect and experiment on it. Husker was in a particularly foul mood. He vehemently denied it had anything to do with Angel Dust’s absence, though he refused to let the spider’s pet pig out of his sight all day. The king made an effort to participate in his daughter’s activities as part of his eternal quest for her approval, but he anxiously fidgeted with his wedding ring the entire time and often paused to not-so-subtly wipe tears from his eyes.
As for Alastor, like some of the hotel guests, he was alone, though unlike those guests, he wasn’t lonely.
While most expressed their love and devotion to others on February 14th, Alastor utilized the day to check in with and pamper the soul he cared about most—
Himself.
In fact, he’d even taken to calling it Al-entine’s Day (in the privacy of his own mind, of course. He wouldn’t want to be… what was it the kids said? Cringe?).
He had his whole day planned out. First, a mug of piping hot blood (A+, his favorite) and a (relatively) fresh deer carcass for breakfast in his bayou. Then he would stroll on down to Cannibal Town and enjoy the band playing at the gazebo this afternoon. He preferred walking around the city over shadow traveling so he could revel in the fear he instilled in the sinners unfortunate enough to cross his path. If he was lucky, he might stumble upon other sources of entertainment as well!
On his way back to the hotel, he’d stop at his favorite butcher to pick up his dinner for tonight. He also had a nice bottle of scotch he’d been saving for this evening. Post-dinner was left intentionally unplanned so he was free to do as he pleased. Perhaps he would read a book, tickle the ivories, or play backgammon with his shadow. He had no intention of deciding until the moment arrived.
The journey to Cannibal Town was pleasant, as expected, filled with the delightful shrieks of sinners. Most simply ran in fear from Alastor, but one actually gouged out their own eyeballs! His shadow promptly collected them, and he had an impromptu snack for the road.
He paused briefly to see what drivel was playing on the many TVs for sale at an electronics shop. Ever since Valentino had taken over Voxtek, their wares had become rather… lewd. Currently, the porn overlord was being interviewed about a new product that just hit the market: a build your own sex doll with a fully customizable body and interchangeable heads.
And modeling said product was… Vox.
“The body is completely remote controlled,” Valentino explained, holding up the remote. “The head is basically just there as another pretty hole!” He grinned at the interviewer, flashing his gold tooth.
Vox opened his mouth to spew protests, but no sound came out.
Alastor snickered as he watched the TV overlord’s mouth move angrily, evidently stuck on mute. Vox being used and humiliated publicly by his own partner? This was too good!
Valentino placed Vox’s head on several different bodies and showed off their features. One was male, another female, and several more were a mix in between. One was hardly even a body at all, just a pair of silicone tits stuck to an ass with Vox’s head plopped on top.
“How delightfully embarrassing!” Alastor cackled.
He spent a few more minutes watching Vox silently struggle as Valentino used the remote to control him. Once the focus of the program shifted more to the various holes on the bodies, he finally went on his way.
The band was in full swing by the time Alastor arrived in Cannibal Town. Some sinners were seated on blankets in the grass and others were dancing or playing horseshoes. At one point, he saw Rosie across the lawn, but he kept his distance. They were cordial, but she was still cross with him for slipping out of their deal. She was one of the few souls in Hell who was familiar with how he liked to spend Valentine’s Day, so she nodded at him in acknowledgement and left it at that.
Alastor joined the largest cluster of dancing cannibals, jiving his way between bodies and cutting in on couples. The music was a lively mix of swing, polka, ragtime, and Dixieland, and he soon had a line of sinners waiting for a turn to dance with him. Ever the showman, he enjoyed the attention and chance to show off. One man was clearly jealous when Alastor danced with his pretty partner, so he pulled her even closer as he manipulated her body through the dance, stoking her beau’s envy until he looked ready to bite Alastor’s head clean off.
But every resident of Cannibal Town knew better than to mess with the Radio Demon.
Instead, the jealous suitor turned and directed his rage toward the man next to him. Caught off guard, the other cannibal reacted too slowly and was soon reduced to a pile of shredded meat. Chunks of the sinner were thrown into the gathered crowd, and Alastor gleefully caught what looked (and tasted) like a hunk of thigh.
Once the festivities began to die down, Alastor bid his dance partners farewell and went on his way. He could tell some of them had been hoping to continue the evening with him, but his private dinner reservation was only for one.
The butcher, it seemed, had been expecting him and had a variety of sinner meat on offer—steaks, sausages, cutlets, and even jerky. He ultimately selected a nice ribeye and left a sizable tip for the butcher, though he wasn’t sure he enjoyed his visit being anticipated. The last thing he ever wanted to be was predictable.
He tucked that thought away for later. Al-entine’s Day was about enjoying his own company, not solving problems or flexing his overlord status.
He was getting a bit hungry, so he shadow traveled back to the hotel to get started on his dinner. As he was cooking, Charlie came into the kitchen.
“Smells good, Al! What are you making?” she asked. Fortunately, she was significantly more accustomed to sharing a kitchen with a cannibal than she used to be. Previously, she would shy away from anything he made, as though afraid it would secretly contain sinner meat. A preposterous idea! He’d never waste good sinner on someone who wouldn’t appreciate it.
“Sinner steak, maque choux, and garlic mashed potatoes,” he said, stirring the corn mixture.
“Ohh.” She peered over his shoulder to look at the vegetables in the skillet, then said, “Are you making dinner for someone… special?”
He shot her a wry smile. “You could say that.”
“...Rosie?”
“Goodness, no.”
“Mimzy?”
“Strike two.”
Charlie thought for a moment. “Niffty?” she asked uncertainly. She was clearly running out of guesses, which was fair. Alastor wasn’t exactly known for his attachments to others.
“Wrong again, my dear!” he exclaimed. “Tonight, I am enjoying the company of myself.”
“Aww, Al!” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “That’s really sweet! I’ll get out of your hair then.” She rifled around in the pantry for whatever it was she’d originally come into the kitchen for and headed for the door. “I hope you have a nice night, Alastor.”
“You as well, dear,” he said fondly as she left.
Once he was finished cooking, he instructed his shadow to take everything upstairs. He teleported to his room and changed into his nicest coat (the one without the tattered hem), polished his monocle, and pinned a gold brooch of a deer’s head to his lapel. He conjured a white tablecloth for his small table in the bayou and set out one place setting. Two candlesticks and a single red and white narcissus in a vase completed the setting.
Alastor poured himself two fingers of scotch and added a few drops of water to bring out the flavor. He sat down at the table, and his shadow set his plate down in front of him, covered with a metal cloche. The delicious scent of spices and home cooked food filled his nostrils when his shadow removed the cover. He turned on the radio on the mantle with his powers to enjoy some music with his dinner.
Alastor spread a cloth napkin over his lap and sighed happily. “Perfect.”
The ribeye was seasoned and cooked to perfection. His mashed potatoes were creamy and flavored with just enough garlic. And the maque choux?
He let out a soft moan as he took a bite.
Just like maman used to make.
The smoky earthiness of the scotch complimented the food perfectly. An excellent meal, if he did say so himself.
“My compliments to the chef,” Alastor said with a chuckle.
As he poured himself another glass of scotch, the King Roach crown perched on his mirror caught his eye. He supposed he did have people who cared about him that he could celebrate Valentine’s Day with, should he choose, but he genuinely enjoyed spending this time with himself. It was different from a regular day where he was often alone and fulfilled him in a way he knew most others wouldn’t understand.
Fortunately, Al-entine’s Day wasn’t about most others.
He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the Valentine’s Day card he had made for himself. It was simple, a drawing of his own red radio dial eyes and yellow-toothed grin on a black card with his scratchy handwriting at the top and bottom.
To: Me
Smile!
And Alastor did.