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Alastor actually couldn’t believe his eyes, and not in a good way. He was staring at a puddle of blood so vast it felt like an ocean. He was staring at the body of the man he had grown to love. He was staring at Lucifer, dead on the ground.
Alastor rushed forward, his smile barely held together. He cradled Lucifer in his arms, the golden blood staining his overcoat. Tears stung at his eyes sharply, as if with anger. Anger at the world, at himself, and most of all, at Vox. He lowered Lucifer onto the ground.
Alastor stood slowly, his form growing. The static in the air suddenly became deafening, causing many souls to cover their ears. His horns grew so large they resembled trees in winter; his eyes radio dials. Vox froze from his gloating, staring in shock.
“Is anyone gonna stop him??” Vox shouted. Charlie shook her head, sobbing into Vaggi’s shoulder. Vaggi was also crying, but tried to hide it. Angel held his hands up, stumbling in shock and horror. Husk was frozen in place. Niffty had dropped her knife. Cherri stopped in her tracks, hand over her mouth.
Alastor’s rage continued to bubble. In one swift motion, his shadow tentacles reached out, grabbing each of Vox’s limbs one by one, slowly pulling them in opposite directions. Vox screamed.
“You… you don’t get to scream. You don’t get mercy. My mercy’s dead. It died with the king.” Alastor spoke in a low, gravelly tone. Vox continued to scream while the rest of Hell watched in horror. Slowly, Vox’s limbs began to rip. His arm flung off. His leg followed suit. Then his other arm and other leg. Alastor took Vox’s torso off and threw it. He stared at the screaming TV screen for a moment, before smashing it on his knee.
After a few seconds, he shrunk to normal size. He stared at the battlefield, then slowly picked Lucifer’s body up, hobbling away with him, his arm still skinned from Shok.wav.
– – – – – –
It had been a week. No one saw Alastor these days. Charlie had fallen into depression as well, but Vaggi helped her stay afloat. Alastor, on the other hand, paced his tower restlessly, his mind numb. His arms were wrapped around him, as if trying to imitate Lucifer’s arms. His smile was barely there. Held by a string. His eyes drifted to the gun sitting next to his bedside table..
No one would care. Lucifer was gone, he was the only one who would have cared. They wouldn't notice. He could be with Lucifer in the void. He felt an ache that had grown familiar these past few days, the feeling of a piece of him missing. It would be quick, right?
His hand drifted over the gun. He had no reason to stay. No reason he could possibly think of that was enough to fill that hole in his heart.
His fingers curled around the handle of the gun. He raised it to his temple. He shut his eyes tightly, whispering. “I’m so sorry, My lord…”
Alastor took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. A sharp pain consumed any thoughts he was having, then it all went dark.
Alastor was dead.