Something Happened on the Way to Heaven

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/25444447.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: F/M
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Relationships: Alastor/Charlie Magne, Angel Dust/Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel)
Characters: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Charlie Magne, Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel),
Vaggie (Hazbin Hotel), Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Niffty (Hazbin Hotel),
Lucifer Magne, Lilith Magne, Razzle (Hazbin Hotel), Dazzle (Hazbin
Hotel), Original Male Character(s), Fat Nuggets (Hazbin Hotel), Mimzy
(Hazbin Hotel), Rosie (Hazbin Hotel), Deerie (Helluva Boss), Honey
(Helluva Boss), Bea (Helluva Boss), Beau (Helluva Boss), Rachel
(Helluva Boss), Kevin the Kraken, Tom Trench
Additional Tags: Mentions of Myth & Folklore, mentions of fairy tales, Fluff and Smut,
Humor, Romance, Angst and Feels, POV First Person, Alastor is Still
Bad at Feelings, Foreshadowing, Sequel, Past Rape/Non-con, Discussion
of non-con
Language: English
Series: Part 2 of The Libraryverse
Collections: My Favorite Fanfiction
Stats: Published: 2020-07-22 Completed: 2021-07-28 Words: 330,983
Chapters: 52/52
 Something Happened on the Way to Heaven
by Descendree

Summary

Alastor thought he had it all worked out.

Yes, there had been a few hiccups in his ultimate plan and sure, not everything had turned out
the way he had envisioned it… but those were just minor setbacks! Nothing serious! Nothing
that could possibly get in the way of his darling Charlie’s certain ascension to Heaven!

Right…?

(Sequel to “The Library, or The Discovery of Heaven”)

 The Sealskin
Chapter Summary

Charlie wants to help Alastor, who - for multiple reasons - feels very conflicted about
that.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

“I broke your heart, did I not?”

Ah, yes yes.

It was that single sentence of the Angel that kept haunting me – even now, many weeks later.
And with those seven methodically spoken words, the entire memory of that particular day
was brought back up from the darkest depths of my mind as well.

Time after time. Night after night. Not every night, mind you – oh ho ho, thankfully not,
since that would be too boorish! – but…

It came to me on nights I least expected it. When the cross on my hand started to ache and
burn, so much and so painfully I could barely think straight.

Like this very night.

I laid in bed, with Charlie’s sleeping figure on top of me, and I stared at the black nothingness
above me.

I still remembered. How my harsh, sadistic laughing at the severely wounded Angel had
come to an abrupt end. My feet stopped, too. They had simply refused to keep on walking,
lost the will to keep on moving forward. Just because of that one sentence. Just because of
those words Hakim had hurled at me, his tone teetering back and forth between delighted
surprise and sheer pity.

My blood had run cold at that moment. My chest tightened, my heart sunk.

Even back then, I knew I should have walked out of Rosie’s dungeon, immediately. I should
have kept going.

I wasn’t entirely sure why I didn’t. Perhaps I, somehow, for whatever reason, wanted to hear
what else the Angel had to say? I even recalled holding in my breath, for God’s sake.
“Oh do not worry, Alastor. You still have those six months. More than enough to let this
suffocating heartache you are feeling grow even worse. Do whatever you want with her.
Make her happy. Make her smile. Make her swear her undying love to you and only you.
Then start preparing yourself for what will undeniably happen. Try to. I promise you that it
will tear whatever that is left of that wasted heart of yours to shreds. The pain and agony will
start to fester, like an open, filthy wound. And I will be there to watch it – all of it.”

After that charming and foreboding warning (or was it a promise, actually?), my legs finally
found their strength back and with big, hurried steps, I had exited the cold and dark cellar.

Everything happened so fast then: when I had left the dungeon, I quickly gave my dear,
feather-loving ally some final instructions, before getting out of Franklin and Rosie’s
Emporium. I needed to get away from there - away away away. Once I stood outside, I was
relieved and wanted to praise myself, first: I had handled that situation back there rather well,
in spite of my wounded hand, racing heart and maddening thoughts, or so I believed!

But…

Then, I finally noticed I had been grinding my teeth hard, all the way from walking the
torture chamber’s stairway to eventually ending up back out on the streets. All this time, I
had been clenching my jaws together so tightly it hurt. And that was not all: I also suddenly
realized in horror that, back in Rosie’s establishment, I had slammed the dungeon’s door far
too aggressively to my liking – since it was left hanging in its hinges afterwards, partly
destroyed.

Ha! So much for ‘handling it rather well’!

There weren’t enough conclusive terms in the dictionary to describe how unreasonably angry
I could still get, imagining just how much satisfaction this undignified outburst of mine must
have given that miserable, crawling Angel down there.

Or to put into words just how much it pierced my soul, that, later, in the library, Charlie told
me…

She… she said…

When she practically asked me to…

To...

“If the two of us keep it up for the following couple of months… I will ask you if it’s alright
for me to… to replace that cord with something… s-something else.”

Charlie muttered something inaudible in her sleep, gleefully rubbing her now goofy-looking
face against my chest. I smiled, sighed and closed my eyes, just for a moment. My fingers
touched the cord that was still looped around the ring finger of my marked hand. This same
hand… it had undergone multiple life-changing alternations in the timespan of two mere days
– a very awful one and a very good one, ha, how amazingly ironic.
However, only one of them was permanent.

Thinking those kind of thoughts concerning my current ordeal always caused lumps in my
throat to appear out of nowhere. Lumps I couldn’t swallow, no matter how stubbornly I tried
to – and in a sudden and urgent impulse, I wrapped my arms around Charlie, pulled her
against me tightly and hid my face into her blonde hair. She let out a small moan and wiggled
a bit, but she didn’t seem to wake up.

Oh, Charlie – my sweet, darling princess. She wasn’t a vaccine for any deadly disease and
holding her wouldn’t solve my problems, not in the slightest – but her familiar, cottony scent
always soothed me, her body’s gentle warmth effortlessly putting my mind at ease.

I loved her. I loved her so, so much.

And it was alright.

My plan hadn’t failed.

I simply needed to alter it a bit.

And I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t know how to do just that.

AaA

“Al…?”

My train of thought got interrupted when Charlie’s sleepy voice spoke up – and I completely
forgot my complicated thoughts altogether when her slim hand started patting my face. It was
a very friendly and well-meant gesture of her, hence why it was a bit unfortunate my lover’s
investigative fingers almost stabbed me in the eyeball, as she checked whether or not my eyes
were closed.

For the record, they were not.

“Ouch,” I therefore – logically – responded.

“Are you having trouble sleeping again,” she slurred as I picked her hand off my face and
gave it an appreciative squeeze, “you should… stop doing that, Al, it’s not… healthy…”

“Sadly enough, I can’t ‘stop’ having trouble falling asleep, my dear,” I replied with a slight
chuckle.

Charlie stirred – and I felt a few awkward yet pleasant jolts shoot through my body as hers
moved, making it so she could rest her head on top of her arms, that were still laying on my
torso. Even though it was dark, I could see her round and outspoken eyes, looking at me with
worry. Her naked flesh enveloped me almost completely: subtly nestled in-between my legs,
pressing on my stomach and gracing my upper body, her soft, bare limbs kindly reminding
me of the unplanned yet decisive lovemaking we had done a couple of hours earlier.

AaA

Truth be told, she had only wanted to massage my hand before we’d turn in for the night,
since she had noticed during the day it was causing me pain. Yet somehow, Charlie had ended
up on her back, her flushed face hot and sweaty on the mattress and her shapely legs hooked
over my shoulders, gasping out encouragements and quivering over her entire body as I took
her like that. I had confusedly wondered about how and why at first, before I simply let the
thrill and the enjoyment of the moment take over control – and when I asked Charlie about it
later, she admitted she was just as surprised as I had been about how the sex had occurred all
of a sudden.

She didn’t complain though, she had let me know with a big, toothy smile, ruthlessly making
me fall in love with her all over again, and therefore forcing me to kiss her silly once more.

You can’t imagine how much I loved the sound of her affectionate mewls and giggles.

AaA

Charlie was now watching me, furrowing her brows with utmost concentration.

“Something’s eating you,” she said. “I can tell.”

“How observant you are,” I smiled, collecting her bubbly face in my hands.

Charlie just kept looking at me. “Will you tell me?”

I half-gently, half-teasingly caressed her cheeks, unable to look away from her piercing gaze.
Telling Charlie what was the matter – oh it was tempting, it was. Charlie probably was the
one person in Hell I trusted the most of all and I can’t deny that each time I opened up my
heart to her and told her what was troubling me, she knew to make me feel better – to reach
out to me, to lift my spirits, to heal what appeared to be a wounded part of me.

However, this was the single problem I couldn’t and wouldn’t bother her with.

And I honestly told her that. She had the right to know that much, at least.

Charlie clearly didn’t like I couldn’t tell her what was bugging me, especially because she
(rightfully) expected it to be something important.

“So… you’re just going to struggle with it all alone, then?” she asked.

I nodded, now putting my hands on her back. I carefully followed the curve of her back – up
and down and up again.
“I fear I have to solve this by myself, my love. It’s that kind of problem.”

“There is no kind of problem you need to solve all by yourself.” Charlie’s frown deepened,
putting her arms around me and placing her chin on top of my chest.

“So you never needed to handle something all by yourself? You never had to deal with
something you didn’t want anybody else to interfere with?” I wanted to know.

“Well… uhm…” Charlie huffed. “Okay, okay – I’ll admit that in the past, I, too, wanted to
sort certain things out on my own. But those were… relatively small problems. Nothing big.”

“Oh my.” I raised an eyebrow. “Whatever makes you think my problem is a big one?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You deny it is?”

“I… no,” I said, a bit caught off guard by her blunt directness.

“Well there you go.”

That drew out a laugh from me, since she sounded so smug about it. I managed to pull her up
some more and planted a kiss on her cheek. She let me, albeit begrudgingly, and was quiet for
a few moments after that. I could tell she was thinking about something, judging on the way
she was still knitting her eyebrows together.

I jokingly tried to smooth the wrinkles in her forehead. “Now now, don’t sulk like that, my
love. It doesn’t suit your pretty face!”

Instead of responding, Charlie took my hands and folded them in-between her own, lacing
her fingers together. She then brought her mouth to the collection of hands and pressed a kiss
on top of it. I felt the touch of her lips against my skin and my broad smile faltered.

“My darling Charlie – oh please cheer up, sweetheart. It will be alright. I promise you it
will.”

“That doesn't help. I still worry about you,” she muttered against my knuckles, her eyes
looking away from me. “And I want to help you. In whatever way possible.”

“Well…” I hummed.

Charlie shook her head and squeezed my hands. “It wasn’t a question, Al. It was an
announcement. I will help you – and I will start doing that right now.”

Her eyes stared at me once again, fierce and determined. It was difficult to go against her
when she was on top of me, gripping my hands, looking down on me like that, seemingly in
complete control over the situation. This would have greatly annoyed and even upset me in
any other scenario, with any other person that dared to try and defy me – but not with
Charlie. Never with Charlie.

Amused, I beamed a questioning grin up at her. “Oh ho, are you now? Well then, how are
you planning to help me, my dear?”
“By telling you about how my day was!”

I blinked. “Oh! Well. Not that I don’t want to listen to you, but how, my darling, will that
help me ou—”

“So anyway!” Charlie let go of my hands to wrap hers around me again, plopping her chin
onto my chest once more. “I got up really early today and found out that I had apparently
squirmed and twisted around in my sleep so much, that I had ended up at the footboard of the
bed, of all places, and also, I had stolen all of the bedsheets.”

“Well that explains both my cold feet and that strange, blonde cocoon lying on the bed this
morning.”

“Ssssshhhh!” Charlie put a firm finger to my lips. “Keep your snarky remarks to yourself –
you are only allowed to listen.”

“Awight,” I managed to say – and in the following ten to fifteen minutes, I didn’t utter a
single word while Charlie talked.

And talked.

And talked.

And talked.

About the most mundane things she had done the other day, in the most detailed way.

I simply listened to her lovely voice, slowly but surely getting more trouble suppressing my
yawns. However, it wasn’t until after my eyelids began to actually actively lower themselves
that I finally realized just what Charlie was up to, chatting away like that, even when her
words were starting to sound a bit raspy and disjointed.

Moved and endeared by her bizarre determination to literally bore me to sleep, even if it
meant it would tire her even more, I sneaked my arms around her and cut her off with a brash
kiss midsentence. Charlie’s eyes fluttered at that, her breathing coming out in soft,
bewildered puffs of air after I pulled back.

However, she pretended nothing had happened at all and cleared her throat, trying to
continue. “…a-anyway… and, um, when I spoke to Vaggie and told her about that vase in the
hallway on the second floor, she ah—”

She let out another surprised gasp when I promptly kissed her again and turned to lay on my
side, taking her unguarded, yet very willing body with me. Charlie’s nails lightly scraped
against my back, urging me to stop, which I did.

“You – you should let me finish my story,” she panted, while I sluggishly stroke a thumb over
her wet lips, “it’s very important you let me mwhl—”

During the third time I rudely interrupted her monologue by kissing the words away, Charlie
stopped attempting to go on, sighed in defeat and latched herself onto me, lovingly returning
the kisses. Her hands slithered further up my back and fixedly held on to my shoulders, as I
took her face in my hands again and kept it in place during the abundance of kisses I
smothered her wonderful person with. She moaned feebly and though I could tell she was
thrilled by the sudden love attack, I also sensed she barely had any energy left, as she didn’t
start groping me somewhere down the lane.

(And yes, the absence of groping indeed was a clear sign the girl was getting drowsy, because
my goodness did she love to grope me to her heart’s content otherwise, no matter what kind
of - active - mood she was in.)

Not wanting to tire her out even more, I stopped snogging her and pressed Charlie’s
delightful body against mine, mumbling a heartfelt “thank you” into her locks and curls.

“This helped,” I softly said. “This helped me a lot, my love.”

“Yeah?” Charlie’s voice sounded faint and a bit breathless, but also relieved. “Will you be
able to sleep now?”

I chuckled. “Oh absolutely.”

It wasn’t even a lie. I had gotten sleepy – and after all that relentless, yet affectionate
smooching, my energy had been drained as well. There now was almost nothing left of it, so I
had no choice but to let my troublesome worries and thoughts sink away into the back of my
head.

Comforted, I pulled her even closer and quietly swept Charlie’s hair away from her forehead,
so I could place a last, grateful kiss there. She replied with a gentle “I love you too”, nuzzled
her face deeper into my embrace – and she was asleep before I knew it.

Luckily, this time, so was I.

AaA

As the manager and founder of her redemption hotel, Charlie had a rather brutal schedule:
almost every day, she needed to get up around 5 o’clock. She would then work almost non-
stop during the rest of the day, with the exception of the few short breaks she allowed herself
to have (the longest period of free time was around noon, when she would retreat herself into
the library for a whole hour). She usually went to bed at a fairly normal time – due to Vaggie
taking over most of her duties around 5 PM or so – but there were times the poor princess
only came stumbling into the bedroom when it was far past midnight.

Since I had an abysmal sleeping schedule anyway, I always waited for her during those very
busy days. Besides, it was such a great sight to behold Charlie’s dulled, faded eyes
temporarily light up again, once she noticed I was in her bed, still awake, and holding out my
arms towards her, ready to welcome her into them.

She made good use of them, she did.

Charlie was a diligent worker… but lately, on Sundays, she slacked off. She then granted
herself the luxury to sleep in and not worry too much about the hotel and everything that had
something to do with it.

And why wouldn’t she, really? Sundays were pretty laid back at the hotel anyway, because
most of the sinners would stay in bed until noon. After finally getting out of their disgusting,
greasy, dusty sleep nests, they’d simply hang around the place for the remainder of the day,
without causing much trouble.

They had a good reason to stay out of trouble, though, because, you see…

I was running the hotel on Sunday these days.

AaA

Indeed, indeed! It was the truth!

After discussing it with both Vaggie and Charlie one day, the lovely Princess of Hell had
given me her Royal permission to – and I quote – “make sure the tenants behave themselves
on Sundays”.

“Without killing, torturing or otherwise hurting them,” Vaggie, that spoilsport, had been
quick to add to that.

“Alright,” I had agreed.

“Mentally or physically.”

“Fine.”

“And you can’t use others to hurt people for you, either!”

“Yes, yes. Are you quite done already, my dear? Or do you have a whole list with demands at
the ready?”

Vaggie had narrowed her eyes at that and pulled out an actual list from her breast area (why
keep it there? Did Charlie keep things there as well? Whatever was wrong with using a
purse?). The moth woman then swiftly slapped the back of her hand onto the paper multiple
times, like a disgruntled, sassy mother.

Naturally, my mood had soured. “I was jesting about the list.”

“So was I.” Vaggie smiled. “For this is a contract.”

“What?”

“Now sign it, asshole.”

“I will not sign that.”

Charlie (who had been merely looking on for a while during all of this) gave my coat a soft
tug. She didn’t say much, she simply gazed up at me with those gorgeous eyes I adored so
much – gorgeous eyes that had started getting dark circles underneath them, because of the
stress that had been building up over the past few exceptionally swamped days she had been
going through. Her lips formed the word “please” – and with a weird, low grunt, I snatched
the contract/list/paper from a smug-looking Vaggie’s hands and signed it, ignoring the boo’s
and howls from my annoyed radio audience.

I wasn’t happy with this outcome either – but the aching I felt in my hand as I put my name
underneath Vaggie’s stupid little contract… it reminded me that there were worse deals than
this one to go on with.

Much… much worse.

AaA

The day after Charlie had successfully lulled me to sleep with her tedious stories happened to
be a Sunday – and so, I left the coziness of Charlie’s bed early, to get myself ready for the
day. I did it carefully, so that Charlie wouldn’t wake up. She needed her rest.

After taking a refreshing shower, deciding on what to make for breakfast and getting myself
dressed, I looked at the princess via the large mirror in her bedroom as I adjusted my bowtie.
This time, most likely because she had been holding me while falling asleep the night before,
she hadn’t ended up sprawled all over the bed. She… still had a pretty interesting sleeping
position nevertheless: she laid on her back, her arms thrown above her head with her blonde
hair fanned out beautifully. The sheets of the bed were only partly covering her, so her naked,
upper body was completely exposed.

Oh! She… she…

She would definitely catch a cold like that! We wouldn’t want that to happen, now!

So I finished up my business with the mirror and my bowtie, after which I made my way to
the bed, took the covers and pulled them over my lover as neatly and discreetly as possible.

There!

Then, I clumsily patted her head, since I got the urge to do something sweet without
accidentally waking the darling girl up (I got these time-consuming tendencies at least ten
times a day whenever I was a tad too close to her and yes, it was very bothersome, but what
can you do about it). Right after doing that, I wanted to leave the room…

…however, Charlie’s hand suddenly grabbed mine, her fingers fumbling with my own.
Of course, I stopped dead in my tracks. Silently, I looked at our hands, first, before looking at
Charlie – and indeed, she was awake. Yes, her eyes were a bit droopy and I could tell she
probably was struggling to keep them open, but she saw me, and she smiled.

“Hi Al.”

“Good morning, my love.” I lowered my other hand on top of her head to caress her once
more. “I’m sorry – did I wake you up?”

“Naah, I’ve been awake for a little while…” Charlie suppressed a yawn.

I chuckled. She wasn’t fooling anybody.

“Do go back to sleep. It’s Sunday – you can have a few more hours to yourself, my dear.”

“I know, I know… and I will. I just wanted to do this.”

She gripped my hand a bit tighter and brought it to her face. She twisted it so that the back of
my hand with the scar faced her mouth – and she pecked it ever so tenderly. Her eyes sought
contact with mine as her lips still lingered on my skin.

“Does it feel better now?”

I didn’t respond right away, because I highly suspected I would only be able to stutter and
stumble over my words after such an endearing and affectionate gesture. So instead, I smiled
and nodded, attempting to remove my hand out of her grasp – and I failed hilariously, as she
immediately took a strong hold on it.

“How comes that whenever I want to make you feel good… it always ends with you making
me feel good,” she muttered, most likely referring to what had happened the night before.

Again (and trust me, I was deeply ashamed to admit this), I didn’t know how to answer her
somewhat sad-sounding question. Charlie didn’t wait up for me to find the right answer: she
fell back asleep almost instantly, her rosy cheeks warm and soft to the touch as my fingers
fondly brushed over her sleeping face.

While I allowed myself to stay at Charlie’s side just a little bit longer, using the fact she was
still holding my hand as a feeble excuse to loiter around, I found myself thinking that there
were probably many things in this forsaken afterlife that weren’t clear to me.

But Charlie’s ridiculous love for me was.

My goodness.

It was crystal clear to me.

She wholeheartedly loved me, so very much.

I gulped. It was a good thing I was finally able to free my hand, so that I could decently grasp
my own stupidly smiling face, attempting to stop the sudden rush of blood that violently shot
 up to my pale cheeks.

This girl was going to be the sweetest, most wonderful death of me, wasn’t she?

Chapter End Notes

A sealskin, or selkie, is an incredibly beautiful and immortal female who lives as a seal
in the water, but sheds her skin to be able to walk on land. One day, a fisherman steals
the skin of this being and locks it up in his trunk. The selkie, unable to transform back
into her original form, meets him, falls in love with him, goes home with the man and
the two marry. They have a happy marriage and the sealskin blesses their family with
multiple children – but she eventually gets homesick and longs to go back to the sea.
When her husband forgets to take the key to the truck with him as he goes fishing one
day, the selkie retrieves her skin – and the urge to return to the water grows too much for
her to bear. She says goodbye to her children, puts on her sealskin and dives into the sea,
never to return to the land again.
Although the fisherman is struck with grief, he from this moment on always catches the
best fish – and people who watch him and his children walk on the beach, often notice a
seal out in the sea, gingerly following them.

There are many versions and theories about the origins of this old, Icelandic/Irish folk
tale, but nobody’s completely sure who came up with the original story first.
 The Boy Who Went Forth to Learn Fear
Chapter Summary

Hakim tells about his experiences in Charlie's hotel up to this point - and about the bad
news he has for Alastor.

Chapter Notes

Charlotte made some wonderful fanart!^^ Look at these adorable sketches of chapter 1...
and while you are at it anyway, better take a gander at this gorgeous piece of art she
made after reading all of "The Library, or The Discovery of Heaven". It's amazing.
Absolutely amazing.^^
Now that I'm at it anyway - Bee made these very fluffy drawings, too. Check them out!
8DDDDDDD
And just when I was editing this chapter, Chisena went and posted these INSANELY
CUTE drawings of Charlie, happily groping Al's butt. Because that's what she does.
You'll see. XDDDDDDDD

See the end of the chapter for more notes

After my arrival, it actually did not even take a full week for me to realize that Alastor had
been absolutely right about the goodness of his precious ‘Charlie’ and her hotel. To my great
annoyance, if I may add.

And that was even before the brand-new therapy sessions the hotel wanted to treat their
sinners with had begun. How very troublesome indeed.

It was all because of… well, all because of Princess Charlotte herself, really.

She did not know who I was.

She did not know why I had come to her hotel.

And she had not one reason to be kind to me. Not a single one.

I had not been kind to her, for example. Ever since stepping over the doorstep of her insane,
rickety and dysfunctional establishment, I had been cold and aloof towards her – towards
everybody, to be honest. I kept to myself and although I never acted out of line, I did not
show the princess much respect, either. I ignored her questions, avoided her whenever I could
and if I could not, I made sure to show her just how much I hated to be here at any given
time.

Why should I be respectful towards her?

She was a weakling, I believed.

A weak, gullible girl.

And the sole cause why I was stuck in Hell for at least half a year.

It was not fair of me, I knew that. I also knew that Princess Charlotte was only indirectly to
blame for the fact her mad lover had decided to take me as his prisoner. Furthermore, I
realized the woman probably would immediately set me free if she had been able to, if only
she knew what Alastor had been scheming behind her back.

All of that did not stop me from trying my hardest to despise her.

…however.

It got increasingly more difficult for me to despise somebody who, right from the start, had
given me nothing but kindness and compassion.

Princess Charlotte was not impressed by my icy demeanor, nor was she fazed. She had not
responded to my vile remarks about the state her hotel was in and during the first few weeks,
she had happily explained to me what her hotel was all about (guiding sinners to redemption,
naturally), given me a bedroom all to myself and a fairly structured and manageable day-to-
day schedule. Plus, she made sure to – directly as well as indirectly – check on me every day.

Not only me, though: she checked on every sinner, every day. She knew most of them by
name as well. I could tell the princess – who was not like I had expected her to be – was
giving it her all, doing the best she could, just so she could provide the people that lived
under her roof with all the support and guidance they needed.

Speaking about the sinners in her hotel – at first I was certain they, like me, did not respect
her. That they ridiculed her and merely used her offer to come live in the hotel as an excuse
to get a free meal and a bed to sleep in.

This was not really the case, though.

According to the small, cleaning cyclops-lady – this odd creature one day just started rattling
at me for whatever reason – the sinners at the very beginning indeed did not have a fraction
of respect for Hell’s next ruler in line. They thought of her as a weird, disillusioned, spoiled
princess that was all talk and no action… but that changed a few months ago, when sinners
that had gotten interested in reading books got parts their demonic deformities altered. Ever
since then, most of the hotel’s tenants had grown a hidden, yet surprisingly deep respect for
Princess Charlotte. They would never tell her, since that was too much to ask of them, but it
was there.
The rest of the princess’ subjects – the ones that did not live at the hotel – still treated her
like she was an idiot, sadly enough: on the news and during other television shows, she was
mocked and made a fool of, at every opportunity they would get.

In spite of that, the centuries-old, bizarre hybrid of a fallen Archangel and a demonic
succubus always did her best to gracefully accept the jokes and the hurtful remarks. She
rarely got angry and she almost never lost her patience. It probably helped that her staff – a
strange, ragtag team of misfits, demons and clients – was quite devoted to her and defended
her whenever they needed to.

There was this moth lady who would yell and nag at everybody that dared to go against
Princess Charlotte’s wishes. A spider pornstar that acted tough and arrogant, but clearly cared
a lot about his friends. The weird cleaning cyclops lady. A cat-shaped alcoholic that
never ever went against whatever request the princess made of him. Two mute goat demons
that annoyed me greatly (they stalked me through the corridors of the hotel basically every
day, probably because the princess told them to keep an eye on me).

And there was Alastor, of course. The Radio Demon himself.

Apparently, he was not only the princess’ lover, but he also was her coworker and sponsor of
some sorts? Something like that.

I could not comprehend for the life of me why he had started out aiding the princess in the
first place (there were many rumors about it going around and he himself had apparently
stated he just had been bored), but I suppose him falling in love with Princess Charlotte
certainly had been convenient. It had made him very useful and even loyal to the hotel and its
inhabitants.

He was nothing but a horrible waste of life and space in my eyes, though.

BbB

Could I be blamed, really?

I had been stuck in that dark, moist torture chamber for such a long time and I had been hurt,
mistreated and abused so relentlessly, that all of my emotions had simply stopped manifesting
themselves!

I still had them (that is, they eventually returned to me), but I no longer displayed them. And
that was not all: my angelic disposition, my wings, even my halo – everything had either been
taken away from me or had sunken into this swamp of despair deep inside of me.

It all had happened in a span of those two horrible weeks, after I had been ruthlessly stolen
from the Heavens Above. From my very own life. From… well, everything.

All thanks to him.

The reason?
His need to trick me into deciding one single person’s suitability for getting into Heaven.

All that trauma, all that pain, all that suffering that had been forced upon me and my body – it
was all because of one selfish fool, attempting to do something not-selfish for once, resulting
into him doing something so insanely selfish it almost cost me my very life – or at the very
least, most of my sanity.

While I managed to get back at the grinning madman in the most rewarding way possible, I
still was forced to stay in Hell for the next six months. Since everything was already more or
less set in stone before I had even come down to Hell (thanks to Alastor’s precise and
manipulative planning), I was told I was going to spend those months in Princess Charlotte’s
hotel.

I had no choice but to accept. I was an Angel and I was trapped in Hell – how else was I
supposed to survive?

BbB

Back then, I had expected Princess Charlotte’s hotel to be nothing more but a slightly better
alternative from Rosie’s small, filthy cage.

I had not expected to be welcomed as a honorable guest and to be treated with respect,
goodwill and care.

I had not expected the carefully-prepared meals, the soft beds and the unexplainable feeling
of relative safety.

And, like I had said before, I had not expected to warm up to the princess.

But after receiving all that unconditional friendliness of her and after learning Princess
Charlotte was going to be my personal therapist, had I ever really stood a chance against her?

BbB

That is correct.

Therapy sessions. In Hell.

It was hilarious. Truly, if I had still been able to laugh, I would be shaking with gleeful
laughter so madly, tears would stream down my face like big, glistering mackerels, falling
down a relentless waterfall.

It was a metaphor.

I was not good at metaphors.

Just like I was not good at showing emotions. Anymore.

Hence why I did not laugh or shake with gleeful laughter when the hotel’s staff came with the
announcement last week – I just sat there, on my uncomfortable stool, next to Razzle (who
possessively clung at my right arm) and Dazzle (who had decided my other arm was his to
take and chew on), and listened to the bubbly blonde princess on the podium in the main hall.
I was not entirely sure the room was in fact officially called like that, but everybody seemed
to agree that that was its name, so who was I to judge.

Apparently, the princess and her coworkers had been training under former (crooked)
counselors and (foul) life coaches for the past couple of weeks, in order to become quasi-
certified ‘therapists’ and to take care of the hotel’s sinners just a little bit better. Their motto
seemed to be ‘well-it’s-not-like-you-could-get-even-more-messed-up-anyway lol’ – and
honestly? That was a fairly reasonable, logical way of thinking.

You cannot break something that’s already been broken, forasmuch as I knew. You can only
try to patch it up, slowly and stubbornly, hoping for the best. If it did not work out, you could
always try again later. No harm done.

Although, no harm done – it was during this particular afternoon that I found out that, out of
all the ‘therapists’ the hotel had trained, the princess herself was going to be my assigned
therapist.

And judging on the triumphant, arrogant look Alastor had immediately given me from behind
Princess Charlotte’s back when the ‘counselors’ and their designated ‘clients’ were being
announced, this was not a coincidence.

He had planned it all. Even this, he had planned.

What was even worse: it was working, too, since I already accepted the fact I liked the
princess.

It was infuriating.

However...

Not everything went according to his plan.

BbB

So about that first therapy session.

Last Monday, Princess Charlotte and I had come together into a small, yet cozy room for the
very first time. She as a therapist, me as her client

Frankly, I believed it was not an actual, honest-to-goodness therapy session. This was just our
very first gathering in which Princess Charlotte had been so anxious to mess something up,
that the first ten minutes of the 60-minutes-during counseling mainly consisted of her,
fumbling around with her pen and trying to tell me what I could expect of these therapy
sessions… while I simply sat there and stared at her.

“Are you certain you are up to this task,” I had dryly asked her, as I moved around
experimentally on the low, green sofa she, apparently, had prepared for these weekly therapy
sessions.

“Yeah yeah yeah – sure!” she had responded, her hands trembling nervously as she tried to
calm down and put her ballpoint on the paper of her bloc note. “Now – Bob! This consult is
just to introduce ourselves to one another – nothing more, nothing less. That way, we can try
to feel at ease with one another. We begin the real therapy sessions next week. Isn’t that
great? Aren’t you excited?”

“At least one of us is,” I answered.

“O-okay!” She wiped her hair out of her eyes and swallowed. “S-so! Introductions! Well –
you already who I am – I’m Charlie, the princess of Hell, daughter of Lucifer and Lilith,
founder and owner of this very hotel and I’m hating this pen so much right now because I just
found out it doesn’t really write well, haha – s-so yeah! Tell me more about Bob! Who is
Bob?”

I helpfully pointed to myself. “I am Bob.”

She smiled – and she looked a bit stressed, I could tell.

“Yes, I… I know you are called Bob, but who is you – I mean, who are you, Bob? You think
you could tell me more about Bob? Please?”

I blinked, but since she asked so nicely – and since I still was not used to kindness down here
– I thought about her question for a little while.

“Bob is a person with a very displeasing name.”

“Yeah, there you go – that’s a start! Good! What else?”

“Bob would have liked to have picked another name, but no. He did not. He just had to go
with Bob, because fate can be a cruel temptress like that.”

“A cruel… temptress, huh? Uhhh… Can you tell me anything… else about yourself?”
Princess Charlotte grinned helplessly. “Something that doesn’t have anything to do with your
name, maybe?”

“How about this one then: I hate Alastor.” I stared at her. “Extremely much so.”

“I – um, well, sure,” she said, scratching her head, “I mean, Al has many enemies that hate
his guts, so I’m not surprised he apparently has wronged you as well…”

“Wronged me?” My eyes darkened and I scoffed. “Your Highness, he did more than just
‘wrong’ me. Believe me. Nothing would please me more than to see him suffer and go down
in the worst kind of way.”
“Huh…” she said.

The remains of my plucked wings stung harshly underneath its bandages, reminding me of all
the misery Alastor had put me through, and I grimaced.

“I would like to see him squirm and beg for sweet death to release him from his troubles.”

“Okay – venting is good, just… throw it all out, I guess…”

“I do not belong here,” I then blurted out. “This is not where I am supposed to be.”

“But you do belong here.”

I snapped my head up at that and for the first time, I actually looked the princess in the eyes.
She had quite the unusual eye color – namely none, for her eyes were black. Another sign
that she was not an ordinary person, but a bordering-on-immortal being that was hanging
somewhere in-between angelic and demonic, keeping her gene-specific heritage in mind.

The princess silently returned my gaze, and there was not a single sign of her initial
nervousness to notice anymore. She did not tremble, nor fidget, and she calmly focused her
undivided attention on me, waiting for me to say anything in response to that.

“Excuse me – what did you say?” I was certain my eyeballs would roll out of their
respectable sockets if I spread my eyes open any more. “You know almost nothing about me,
and yet you are already sure I belong in Hell? ”

“That’s right,” Princess Charlotte easily admitted.

“Is it because I spoke badly about your lover?” I searched her face to see if something like
shock or anger would flash over it. “Kind of a petty reason to say I belong in Hell, do you not
agree?”

“Let me ask you something: if you would get the perfect chance, would you kill Alastor?”
The princess, not taking the bait, remained placid and her neutral stare never faltered. “Would
you, Bob?”

I felt myself nodding, almost automatically. “Right away. With no hesitance.”

“Killing somebody, or wanting to kill somebody, is a sin, Bob. No matter what the reasoning
behind it is. You’ve been boiling with this seething rage all this time - I know you have. I’m
sorry for that... but that, too, might just be the reason for why you are here, sadly enough.
You should try to accept that.”

My lifeless eyes – they widened themselves in realization, if possible, even moreso than
before.

My bad thoughts, my spiteful mood, my aggressive feelings, my hatred towards everything

and everyone that had wronged me…

Were all of those signs that I belonged in Hell?

But I was an Angel. I could not belong here.

Could I?

“Oh, but – don’t you worry!” Princess Charlotte hastily tried to comfort me when she saw
something akin to panic appear on my pale, scarred face, beaming a huge smile at me, “it’s
okay! You were hurt, right?”

Wordlessly, I nodded once more.

She continued: “You were damaged and you’ve been in pain for God knows how long. You
have every right to be mad and angry, Bob, because you’re not alone. Many people feel like
you do. And that’s why it was so good of you to come to my hotel. This is the right place for
you – I promise you it is! You can fix you – you can fix Bob! And I will help you with that!”

Again, I could not comprehend.

No matter how I looked at this blonde woman, even now that I had allowed myself to like
her, she absolutely seemed to be nothing but an innocent, naive damsel – one that would have
to be rescued by a knight in shining armor, once somebody had come along and captured her.

Though her words revealed to me that there was so much more wisdom inside of her – more
than one would think. There was something inexplicitly mature and – may I say – fearless
about her. Perhaps it was due to her surprising old age, or maybe all those years of being
bullied and picked on had harnessed her heart, but in the best and most positive way
possible.

Whatever it was, one thing was for sure: in just this one, awkward, bumbling therapy session,
I had learned more about Alastor’s special someone than I had imagined I would – and I had
seen what goodness, what kind of rare purity she possessed.

She indeed was the closest thing to a saint Hell had to offer.

Hence why it was such a shame she was not fit for Heaven.

BbB

I had been planning to tell Alastor this news for a while now – and today, I was finally going
to tell him.

After all, Princess Charlotte and I had that introduction-session on Monday – and ever since
that particular little get-together, I had known that she was not suitable for Heaven. The
sooner I let Alastor know, the more gratifying it would be for me, as I would gleefully watch
the lunatic come to the brute conclusion that his plan had been nothing but a huge waste of
time for everybody involved.

That would show that damn fiend!

However, it was not easy to catch the Radio Demon all by himself, or so I had found out this
week. I had kept a close eye on him, hoping to seize a moment in which I could be alone with
him, but predictably, the attention-hogging demon was constantly in company with others.

Well he was an arrogant radio host in his human life – what had I expected, really?

I often found him picking a fight with that angry moth lady or bickering with the spider
prostitute, but more than once, I also spotted him chatting away with the chagrined cat demon
and/or ordering the one-eyed cleaning lady around. Whenever he was not around these
sinners, and had not left the hotel, he was always – and I meant always – at Princess
Charlotte’s side.

When it was just the two of them, then, only then, Alastor would lower most of his walls and
turn into a man I did not recognize. He looked nothing like that deranged psychopath I met
and got to know well down in his friend’s torture chamber.

No, during these times, he looked like a man he could have been. He would still have this
creepy and overbearing air about him, yes, but there was also a tangible softness in him then,
making him seem kind, amiable and…

Almost normal.

It was such an unsettling sight. I could not bear to continue watching him, whenever he and
his lover wandered around the hotel’s halls and rooms, talking happily about random topics
and looking like any other ordinary couple in love. It confused me to no end. I did not think
he would be able to peacefully walk hand in hand with somebody else and not tear the hand
right off its owner’s wrist in the end, and yet, I watched him do so often, very often.

What a strange man he was.

And what a strange being Princess Charlotte was, too, for having that effect on him.

BbB

Ah, but I digressed.

So - catching Alastor all by himself was not an easy situation to strive for. Fortunately, I
knew that on Sundays, things were a bit different. The princess, most of her staff and the
sinners would stay in bed a lot longer than on other days – but Alastor would rise early and
spend many hours in the kitchen, in order to cook up a truly marvelous warm buffet for the
rest of the hotel’s inhabitants.

An entire warm buffet.

But do not read too much into it – he did not do this because he wanted to do something nice
for the sinners.

No. He just liked cooking.

He probably also wanted to show off his impressive cooking skills in front of the others, now
that I was thinking about it (especially in front of Princess Charlotte, who always was
delighted with whatever he made for them), but primarily, he prepared his delicious
breakfast/lunch buffets simply because he liked doing it.

All by himself.

All alone.

So when I woke up that morning and took note of the fact that it was Sunday, I wasted no
time in lingering around in bed any longer.

It was time.

BbB

In the ‘Happy Hotel’, it was common practice the sinners ate separately from the staff
members.

However, on Sundays, Alastor chose to ignore that unspoken rule, refuse to set the table in
the kitchen as well and therefore force the princess and her staff members to share a meal
with the sinners in the main dining room. He would expertly prepare many different tables
there, making sure the place looked inviting and, well, really spick and span. And then he
would start cooking.

Although the moth lady, who was the princess’ closest friend (I forgot her name, but I think it
had something to do with vegetables) greatly disliked this, Princess Charlotte herself loved
eating with her beloved sinners – two reasons that encouraged Alastor to diligently keep on
preparing the tables in the main dining room every Sunday.

While I hated Alastor more than anything, I had to admit that he was a very skilled chef. He
managed to make the most delectable meals with just a couple of ingredients, but he could
also create complete full course dinners, or cook haute cuisine if he wanted to.

He also had this weird… well, let us call it habit: every Sunday, there was another kitchen
from somewhere around the world he would pick as his theme for the buffet – and today, by
the looks and smell of it, it was the English one.

As soon as I walked into the main dining room, I knew I was right: a couple of big serving
tables displayed the typical English flag and the well-known British dishes many humans –
especially tourists! – loved so much. Plates with scrambled eggs, grilled tomatoes, sausages
and fried toast were being briskly transported from the kitchen to the serving tables by these
huge, black tentacles, while Alastor himself looked on from a distance, his back turned
towards me.

I stood still for a moment, frowning as I stared at Alastor’s hands, neatly folded onto his
back. There was something… off about one of them. It seemed to have a strange spasm – and
 it was obvious something that caused him a fair amount of pain.

Oh.

Oh.

Well. It looked like there was some more bad news coming the sinner’s way, I believed.

How wonderful.

Chapter End Notes

This German folktale was collected and written down by the famous Brothers Grimm. It
goes like this…

Somewhere out there, there lived this young man with no redeeming qualities
whatsoever… except for the fact he had no idea what's it like to be afraid. Longing to
learn how to ‘shudder’, he heads out into the world – but the longer his adventure drags
on, the more annoyed he becomes. For example, they tell him to spend the night
underneath a hanging tree with seven corpses hanging from it… which he absolutely
doesn’t mind doing, he even cuts them down and lays them by his campfire. But when
they catch on fire, the boy gets fed up with them and hangs them back on the tree...
while the corpses are still on fire! Ultimately, the boy undergoes a series of terrifying,
supernatural challenges in a king’s haunted house… although they never ARE terrifying
to the boy, since he just gets irritated with the gruesome things that disturb his sleep. At
the end of the story, the aloof young man is rewarded with gold and the princess’ hand
in marriage. And while he eventually gets to know how to ‘shudder’ (his annoyed wife
drenches him with ice-cold water one night, when he just keeps complaining about it),
the boy never learns what "fear" truly is.
 The Fox and the Cat
Chapter Summary

Alastor and Hakim have a tense conversation.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

When I happened to glance down at the floor and noticed my shadow wildly signaling at me,
I realized I was no longer alone in the dining room. From the way my shadow acted, I also
concluded that this sneaky intruder wasn’t a simpleminded sinner that just happened to be
awake and out and about already, but… a special somebody.

A special somebody I greatly detested.

My shadow didn’t make that disgusted face for nothing, after all!

Rolling my eyes, I heaved a sigh, leaned on my microphone stand and decided… hmm – yes,
I’d give him… three seconds. That seemed to be fair enough.

One…

Two…

Three.

Nothing happened: no announcement, no clearing of the throat to let me know he was there –
just nothing, nada.

Well then. We weren’t getting any younger now, were we!

Without any warning, I snapped with my thumb and middle finger. As the sharp sound
echoed throughout the spacious and otherwise lonely hall, I heard a sudden, startled gasp
behind me – and when I looked at my side a mere second later, my condescending gaze met
the listless, pale-blue orbs of Hakim. Oh, excuse me – Bob.

“Well good morning, my featherless friend!” I grinned, narrowing my eyes to little slits as I
watched the Angel pry the dark, thick vines than had none-too-gently pulled him towards me
off his wrists. “Did the smell of bacon and eggs lure you out of the comfortable confines of
your bedroom or are you just an early bird? Ha!”

I harshly slapped the smaller being on his back, almost knocking the frail and weakened
Angel over. He managed to avoid actually smacking down, though. A pity.
“Early bird! Ha ha! Did you get that joke, Bob? Because you need to pretend to be some sort
of bird demon while you’re staying here? Even though you don’t even have any wings or
other kinds of tuft to show for it? Hilarious, don’t you say so? Comedy gold!”

The Angel didn’t answer my – admittedly rhetorical – question and straightened his back,
resolutely not letting my patronizing laughter get the better of him. He looked around the
room for a bit, in silence, finally stopping his peepers’ rapid movements when he eyed the
serving tables and the truly succulent food that was still being put onto it by my extra pairs of
arms. Oh fine - my tentacles. There, I said it.

“I see the classic English kitchen is the theme for today’s breakfast. Or lunch. Either one of
those,” Bob observed.

I cocked an eyebrow, intrigued by the way he curtly changed the conversation’s subject. I
turned my attention to the serving tables as well.

“Neither breakfast or lunch, actually. You should call this English feast the second breakfast.
All meals that are consumed after a time that’s considered reasonable for breakfast and before
lunchtime, are called the second breakfast.”

“Is that so.”

“In a lot of countries in which they have four to five meals a day, it is so, yes.”

“How come you know this?”

“Well.” I smirked. “Let’s just say I have a wide range of likes and interests.”

The Angel nodded, not even a hint of emotion visible on his heavily scarred features. “I have
noticed. You are a jack of all trades, kind of. Apart from tormenting others and dragging
people into your horribly selfish schemes, even the people you love and clearly value, you
apparently also like literature, singing, dancing, cooking and music.”

I hummed noncommittal. I needed some time to think carefully about how and what to
respond to that. It was difficult, for some reason – and it also didn’t help the wound on my
hand was starting to act up again – but I refused to acknowledge it with him around.

“You could have been an admirable man in life, Alastor. You could have been a trustworthy
librarian, a respectable chef, or even a famous musician. You, at the very least, could have
been a good husband to a sweet partner of your own choice, and ultimately, you could have
died in bed, of old age, surrounded by your friends and family. However, you chose to die
young, as an arrogant radio host – as a serial killer that found his gruesome fate on a dark and
stormy night, by the hands of an old hunter that felt sorry for you. You know. Since his dogs
were mauling you to pieces.”

Bob abruptly looked up, straight at me, his stoic face unreadable.

“Such a shame.”
I was getting annoyed, as I always got when someone reminded me of my inelegant death,
but I smiled broadly nevertheless.

“Would you get to the point already, Bob? Why are you here? Do you need something from
me?”

“I need to speak to you,” he said.

I clacked my tongue impatiently. “We are speaking.”

“About something important.”

“Important, as in…?”

“Important as in Princess Charlotte.” While my interest was instantly piqued as soon as

Charlie’s name had been spoken out, the Angel hesitated for a second. “And there is
something I need to tell you about your hand as well.”

Like it had been waiting for this moment, said hand twitched – and Bob saw, much to my
dismay.

“It is painful, is it not?” He paused. “The Mark of the Fallen, I mean.”

I didn’t allow myself to flinch or answer him and found myself staring back at Bob, on guard.
If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn I heard something that sounded a lot like
malice in his tone of voice.

“It is not supposed to hurt for such a long time,” Bob then remarked.

“It’s not?” I heard myself say.

“Aha.” Another vague look from him. “So you admit it hurts.”

Instead of frowning, my smile only stretched itself out wider. “Maybe.”

“Alright. I think I will already start having… what did you call it... ah, yes, second breakfast,
if you do not mind.”

All of a sudden, and without even taking any further notice of me, Bob approached the
serving tables. The preperations for the many dishes, edibles and beverages were almost done
now, thanks to my careful work.

Dumbfounded and slightly on edge, I watched him take a few plates and put different kinds
of bread, toast, meat, baked beans (yes, baked beans – the English liked their breakfast greasy
and beany) and other fried things on them.

Well, talking about being caught between a rock and a hard place!

I couldn’t try and wring the answers to my many questions out of him (too risky, I might
accidentally end up killing him in this weakened state he was in) and I found it beneath me to
kindly ask him to please tell me this important news he was talking about…and so, I was
getting more frustrated by the passing second.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to pick between these equally bad choices, as Bob soon returned
from the food station – he had stacked so many different kinds of food on his plates that I was
rather impressed he was as skinny as he was – and he brusquely beckoned me to follow him
to a table.

Since there wasn’t an alternative that wouldn’t make me look like either a childish idiot or a
stubborn mule, I begrudgingly accompanied him to a small table for two, my radio audience
muttering restlessly in the background as I did so.

AaA

When we sat down, I had to say I was quite amazed to observe how the Angel managed to
not only practically inhale all of the (mainly unhealthy) food he had gathered, but knew to do
it in a remarkably graceful manner, too.

No matter how many edible things he had collected and how messy some of the plates ended
up looking (he had put beans and toasts with marmalade on the same platter and the beans
were starting to mix together with the marmalade, absolutely disgusting), Bob was able to
flawlessly handle his cutlery. He didn’t spill anything and took subtle little bites of his
nightmare of a breakfast, bluntly stabbing a piece of bacon on his fork, first, before shoving it
into a pile of mashed potatoes right after. And then he chowed it all down, in one go.

“Well then,” I muttered, cringing a bit when I watched two entire eggs disappear into his
mouth like it was nothing, “I’m delighted and quite flattered to see you’re enjoying the food I
prepared so much, but my goodness, Bob, do they even feed their Angels up there?”

“It is not that they do not give us enough food to eat,” Bob answered in-between a few bites,
“but it is all the same, always. Nectar and ambrosia, each day, every day. It is said to be the
most divine food in existence, but it starts to get bland after a few eternities.”

“What do nectar and ambrosia taste like?”

“Nectar and ambrosia.”

“Yes, but – what do they taste like?”

“Nectar and ambrosia, you mean?”

“Yes?”

“Like nectar and ambrosia.”

I smiled and decided to stop asking, before I’d pop a vein and start throwing butter knives at
him.
“But anyway, Bob.” I coughed and folded my hands together, looking at the eating Angel on
the other side of the small, round table. “You said you had something important to tell me,
about Charlie?”

He nodded, but avoided my gaze and instead studied a large sausage with honey slathered
onto it (oh my goodness) carefully.

“I hate to admit it, but you were right about her. Princess Charlotte truly is a very charming
lady. Friendly, understanding, patient, righteous… she is almost saint-like, in comparison to
most of the people I have seen down here so far.”

I beamed a big, proud grin his way. “It pleases me to hear that!”

“Atrocious taste in partners, though.”

“Oh tell me about it: you should see some of the scum she has been in a relationship with
before. Good thing she eventually ended up with me!”

I laughed, loudly and heartily – but Bob didn’t seem to appreciate my glee.

“You think you are funny?” He shot me a piecing look. “You think you are suitable for her?
You, the insane, violent fool that misled her, her friends and allies – and shamelessly used
their kindness and trust in him for his own goals? Have you told her already, about what you
have planned for her?”

I had to struggle to keep my smile intact and I was rather impressed by myself that I actually
succeeded in doing so.

“It’s all for her own good.”

Bob shook his head. “You’re despicable.”

“My. Bold of you to assume I care about your opinion of me.” I sighed and began to thrum
my long fingers on the table’s cloth. This was getting uninteresting fast. “Please don’t tell me
you only wanted to talk to me because you wanted to let me know how much you hate me.
For I already know you do. And that’s perfectly fine by me. Since I hate you, too.”

I couldn’t help but glare at him – the has-been Angel Hakim, now named Bob, the one who
had cursed me. The cretin that made me drastically change my original plans. In hindsight, I
should have killed him when I had the chance back then. There would be other Angels, after
all, I didn’t need to have him specifically as Charlie’s assessor…

But it was too late for that, now.

“Do not worry – telling you I despise you was on the house.” Bob took a long sip of his
orange juice. “No, the real reason why I needed to speak to you is concerning Princess
Charlotte’s chances to go to Heaven.”

“Go on,” I slowly said.

“There are basically none.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well.” The Angel gently patted his lips with the napkin bound around his neck. “It is not
looking good for her, I am afraid.”

What?

I blinked.

What?

What was he saying?

What?

A mild feeling of anguish, dread and sheer shock was quickly building up inside of me. I
stared at the Angel with my frozen smile slowly changing into something maniacal,
something even less pleasant than a fake smile, and I found myself gripping the table’s
surface so harshly there were getting cracks in its material.

“What do you mean, ‘it’s not looking good for her’?” I asked, my voice distorted and
buzzing forebodingly.

Bob – who had been looking fairly smug, even without his emotions – didn’t even grimace as
demonic symbols twirled around his head and my black tentacles insistently wrapped
themselves around his limbs.

“Are you telling me – she’s unable to get into Heaven? Are you telling me I did all of this –
the scheming, the lying, the scars, the planning and the pain, all of this – for nothing?”

Bob made no effort to try and struggle himself out of the heap of vines – but he did let out a
short gasp as they now rounded themselves around his thin neck as well.

“If that’s true,” I continued, not moving a muscle as Bob’s choking noises started to become
more and more obnoxious, “if it’s truly not looking good for Charlie – then it’s not looking
good for you, either.”

“Then just kill me, why not,” Bob then croaked out, sweat pearling on his forehead – but he
himself still looked me dead in the eyes, even as the dark, slithering feelers continued
tightening themselves around his feeble body. “Go on right ahead. I got nothing to lose
anyway. Besides, what harm can it do, hiding one more extra secret… from your… precious
princess…?”

He was right.

Killing him would mean hiding yet another thing from Charlie… and as skillful as I was in
lying, I didn’t want to add yet another secret to the already imposing pile of white lies I had
silently built up over the last couple of months.
So with a grunt, I released him – and the Angel fell back in his chair, gripping his throat,
breathing in and out in ragged wheezes of air.

I ignored his antics and stared off into the distance.

Charlie was not fit for Heaven.

The most angelic being here in Hell, the one that deserved Paradise more than anybody else –
she had to stay here.

My heart ached and without thinking, I squeezed my chest.

What now?

What was I supposed to do now?

AaA

It took a couple of minutes – maybe even more than ten minutes – but eventually, the dull
droning noise that kept on ringing through my ears lessened, and I was able to catch a few
words Bob was saying. Something about a burdened heart, doubts, insecurity and distrust…
and I suddenly snapped out of my daze.

I turned my head up so fast it cracked, as it usually did, just in time to see Bob calmly cutting
off a piece of fried bread, like nothing life-threatening had happened to him at all.

“What was that, Bob?”

Bob admittedly winced a bit at my sudden outburst, but then he composed himself once more
and pricked the bread piece on his fork. His grip didn’t shake and he wasn’t even a little bit
upset anymore – a sign that the torture-routine Rosie had put him through had made him
aloof and absolutely uncaring about his own well-being.

“I was saying that there is too much bothering Princess Charlotte at the moment. I have
talked with her and I have studied her for a couple of weeks, and I can assure you that there
are too many things that burden and disturb her good heart – things that therefore will keep
her here, in Hell.”

“What kind of things?” I wanted to know.

He eyed me tiredly. “You know what kind of things, Alastor.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. Think about it.” Bob dryly chewed and swallowed a few more bits of food.
Again, considering the fact I had almost strangled him to death just a few moments ago, this
was kind of morbidly hilarious.
Meanwhile, I knitted my eyebrows together. Things that bothered Charlie, things that
bothered Charlie... What were the things that bothered Charlie? When was the last time I had
even asked her what bothered her?

Hints of possible emotions that all had something to do with astonishment were written on
Bob’s face as he watched me break my head over the question. Finally, he let out a heavy
sigh.

“Unbelievable. You are her lover – you are supposed to know this,” he said disapprovingly.
“Fine – for Princess Charlotte’s sake, I will give you some hints. For starters, there are three
problems that disrupt the princess’ heart and mind, making it impossible for her to ascend to
Heaven.”

“I’m listening,” I said.

“Hint for the first problem: it has got something to do with her self-confidence.”

“What’s wrong with her self-confidence?”

“The fact that she barely has any of it.”

“Oh. Well, that’s inconvenient.”

“Very.”

“Why doesn’t she have more self-confidence, though? That makes no sense!” Honestly, I was
surprised. “She has accomplished so much and she is working so very hard to make her
dreams become reality, it’s bordering on ridiculous! Why, everybody can see it – and
everybody here appreciates her for it, too! Perhaps this wasn’t so in the beginning, and I’m
aware that outside of the hotel, lowlifes are still mocking her, but the miserable sinners in the
hotel are seeing her as the righteous, goodhearted princess she is! And she knows this! She’s
proud of this!”

The Angel raised his shoulders in a shrug. “To be fair – this first problem does not have much
to do with her status in Hell. She has pretty much accepted that there always will be demons
and what-nots that will ridicule her, and for her, it is enough that the people in the hotel are
devoted and grateful to her. No, the first problem is, in fact, directly related to the other two
problems that are bothering her.”

“Well then let’s hear what these other problems are.”

“The hint for the second problem Princess Charlotte is struggling with,” Bob carried on,
sticking two fingers up in the air, “well... it's her parents – and especially the dangerously
resentful feelings she harbors for them. Does that ring a bell?”

I realized what he meant, felt my mouth fall open a bit and nodded.

Charlie never had a very great relationship with the King and Queen of Hell, and ever since
the Angel Arrangement had happened, their bond had only become more strained and
problematic. Furthermore, Lucifer and Lilith didn’t like me one bit and didn’t even try to hide
it. This was very cumbersome: although I had consequently denied her parents playing an
important part in my almost-but-not-quite-planned-death, and although I saw Charlie really
wanted to believe me, she… well, she didn’t.

I knew she didn’t believe me. She was acutely aware of her parents’ obvious hatred towards
me and she saw a suspicious connection between Hakim’s appearance and my disappearance
at the park back then as well. Why, she had even stopped calling her mother at night.

Conclusion: she didn’t trust her mother and father at all anymore. She might even had started
downright hating them.

Truth be told, I didn’t care all that much about the King and Queen of Hell and I wouldn’t
mind it one bit if Charlie would cut all ties and never meet up or talk to her meddlesome
parents again... but clearly, this did not appear to be the right mindset.

Bob, still not finished with his plates, paused from savoring an oatcake and gave me a
questioning look. “Ready for the hint concerning the last and most crucial problem that has
been on Princess Charlotte’s mind?”

“I suppose so,” I said.

“Good.” He pointed with his fork into my direction. “It is you.”

Something thick started blocking my throat and I unwittingly touched my neck, while my
disgustingly fragile heart anxiously bounced around in my ribcage.

“It – can’t be that she doesn’t love me anymore. That thought alone is just silly nonsense! Ha
ha! Right? Right?”

“Oh no, she loves you, alright. Very much so. I cannot wrap my head around it. I mean, has
she ever looked at you? You are a horror to behold.”

I immediately relaxed, silently reprimanded myself from doubting Charlie’s love for me for
even just a moment, and refrained from replying to Bob’s childish jab below the belt.

“Is she afraid I don’t love her anymore, then?” I asked him instead.

“Alastor, even a blind man can see how much you adore and worship her. You are prepared to
give her up to Heaven. You are ready to lose her, just so she can be where she should be,
according to you. Frankly spoken, your love for her is the only redeemable thing you have
going for you – hence why that one eye of you will not change back into its red predecessor.”
Bob put his fork down again. “But that is the point. She loves you, and she knows you love
her, too. However, in spite of all that, you will not tell Princess Charlotte what you are hiding
from her. What has been bothering you. And that is getting to her.”

I kept silent and involuntarily, my thoughts drifted back to last night. How Charlie had tried
to coax me into telling her my troubles. How I had dismissed her. How sad she had looked
and sounded this morning, while hoping she had done something, anything, to ease my
troubled mind.
“How comes that whenever I want to make you feel good… it always ends with you making
me feel good?”

I had no idea this troubled her that much.

Bob summarized it: “So in short, the princess cannot go to Heaven because her heart is heavy
with black shadows and painful insecurities – and both the tense relationship with her parents
and the lack of trust she feels for her lover and the distrust she feels you have of her are to
blame for that.”

“But those problems can be solved,” I quickly said, as I noticed more sinners were walking
into the dining room. “These troubles that are bothering my darling – they can be overcome!
Isn’t that so?”

Bob had been about to drink the last bit of his juice and batted his eyes up, thinking about my
assumption. He rubbed his chin and, in the end, gave me a small, affirmative nod

“It... is not impossible.”

“So – there’s still hope?” I raised from my chair and leaned over the table, almost knocking
over a vase in the process. “If Charlie manages to mend her bond with her parents – and if I
let her know I do trust her and that she can trust me in turn, too – she will be suitable for
Heaven?”

“If this will wipe away the uncertainty and darkness I have felt in her heart, then yes.” Bob
nodded again and furrowed his brows upon seeing my huge grin. “You seem confident. You
do realize these problems are not as easily fixed as it may sound to you and that this is going
to be very difficult for her, do you not? It is not without its risks. She can permanently scar
her heart if things do not go so well. She can get consumed by the hatred and slumbering
demons inside of her. Do you understand what that could mean? What could happen?”

I hand-waved his comment away and pulled out a pocket watch, my interest in continuing our
conversation fading as swiftly as the food the hungry sinners were now snatching off the
serving tables. After all, now that I knew what had to be done to get Charlie into Heaven,
Bob wasn’t interesting at all anymore.

Also, it was past eleven o’clock now. Charlie usually would get out of bed around this time
on Sundays and then she and I would enjoy breakfast together – hence why I hadn’t eaten
anything yet.

“Things will work out in the end – I’ll make sure they will,” I told the Angel, as I got up from
my chair and neatly shoved it back towards the table.

“You are going to help her?” Bob asked.

“I can’t?” I countered absentmindedly, looking around the lively chamber to see if Charlie
had entered it already.
 “You can – as long as Princess Charlotte is the one who will make the development, you can
do whatever you can to help her out. I doubt you will have enough time for that, though.”

I stopped looking around to sneer haughtily at Bob. “Not enough time? Ha. My dear Bobbert,
there still are at least five months left, more than enough for Charlie to recover her bond with
her parents and to regain her trust in me – you know, after I have told her about my secrets
and critically jeopardized our relationship in the process!”

Oh.

Hmm.

I had to admit that that last bit was going to be quite a thing, but it would all work out. It
always did!

“Perhaps you are right. Perhaps five months will be enough for the princess to get rid of the
gloom and bitterness that is bothering her. There most likely will not be enough time for you,
though.”

Charlie just walked into the dining room – and if that one remark of Bob hadn’t made me
curious, I'd have stepped away from him and forgotten about his existence all together, right
away. Still, I didn’t, and I turned to Bob one last time.

“You think five months won’t be enough for me?” I scoffed.

“You will not have five months.”

Bob also stood up, having finally finished his breakfast as well, and put his napkin down on
his plate. Then he made an offhand gesture towards my hand, that still held on to the pocket
watch.

“Since you are dying.”

Chapter End Notes

A fox and a cat are discussing how many tricks they know. While the fox boasts about
all of his many wonderful qualities and traits, the cat must confess he only has one
talent. The fox laughs at the cat, ridiculing the feline and telling him he could learn a
thing or two from him.
Then, hunters arrive with their dogs… dangerous dogs, who will definitely try to attack
the two animals – and the cat is quick to react and hop into the nearest tree.
“This is my single talent,” the cat calls down to the fox. “Climbing into trees, away from
any oncoming danger. Now show me one of those so-called amazing tricks of yours,
Fox!”
But instead of acting, the fox can’t decide on what to do and keeps thinking of different
ways to escape the dogs, resulting in the dogs getting him. As the rabid beasts tear the
arrogant fox apart, the cat looks on from the tree, scornfully mocking him: “Where are
your talents now, Fox? Why aren’t you using them? Do use your talents, Fox!”

‘The Fox and the Cat’ is a fable credited to the (allegedly very ugly) Greek slave and
storyteller Aesop (c. 620 BCE – c. 564 BCE). There are also versions of this tale in
which the cat is replaced by a hedgehog, or a crane, or a squirrel, or a dove. The
unfortunate fox, however, is always a fox.
 The Little Mermaid
Chapter Summary

Charlie makes everything a little bit better, even in the current circumstances.

Chapter Notes

Time to gush about something awesome that Chisena created: she actually went and
made some wonderful designs of the Angel Hakim/Bob! Check them out here! <3 <3 <3

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Oh my god, it was an English breakfast!

I gasped. I couldn’t believe my eyes (or nose!) when I got into the main dining hall and took
note of the royally filled serving tables, loudly declaring their English-ness with recognizable
flags and other adorable pieces of decoration – and there even was old-fashioned, tacky
tableware! With big, fat flowers painted on them and stuff!

It was all so stuffy and corny and I loved it!

I clapped my hands in excitement, greeted a few of the hotel’s sinners who had noticed me
coming into the room and started making my way over to the food, while looking around me
to see where Alastor was.

He usually was standing next to his serving tables, his back straightened, gloating from ear
to ear, impatiently waiting for me to pop up. And when I did pop up, he’d grab my arms and
giddily show me all his home cooked meals and other carefully prepared food. He’d be like a
little child that had drawn something cute and was now hoping that a family member would
praise him for his diligent work.

I’d indeed compliment him and if I felt bold enough, I’d also snag him by his collar and
smooch him silly. He’d make a weird little noise, but happily let it happen.

By the way, the sudden smooching pretty much always occurred when I was having my…
uhm… period, since he then made sure the tables were overflowing with all kinds of sweet
goodness.

“You’re having your monthly bloody party again this week, aren’t you? Does it hurt? No?
Well good! Here are chocolate sprinkles and there you have some fruity jams and expertly-
picked strawberries for you, to put on your bread and toast! Oh, and you probably want to
have some freshly-made healthy, yet sacchariferous carrot juice to wash it all down with, too!
Also, do let me know if it does start to hurt. I know a very effective tea-blend that will help
you get rid you of that!”

I-I mean…

That was just…

So nice. So very, very sweet. I felt my heart swell up from the thoughtfulness of it all and I
giggled, hugging my arms gleefully.

I continued walking – with a slight skip in my step, not going to lie. When I reached the
serving tables and took another good look around me, I didn’t see Alastor standing near it,
much to my surprise… but I did see him standing close to a table further up ahead, his back
turned my way while he was having an engaging conversation with another sinner. Well – it
sure looked like an engaging conversation, in any case.

I first felt a bit proud of Al – aww, just look at him, having small-talk with another person
without even threatening to steal their soul!

However, after I had grabbed some food and made my way to where Alastor was, I thought
something was… weird about it.

The conversation he was having with the sinner looked a lot more intense and serious than I
had initially thought – and I instantly got a very bad feeling about it all when I recognized
Bob, one of the hotel’s newest clients. Al was talking to Bob, of all people?

But Bob didn’t like Al. And I knew Al didn’t like Bob, either. So why the hell were they
talking to each other? Heck, why were they even breathing so close to one another?

Well, I guess I was about to find out.

CcC

I cautiously approached the two talking men, hoping my voice wouldn’t be too shrill or high-
pitched when I spoke up.

“Uhm – good morning!”

The mysterious communication between Al and Bob was immediately halted – and I
instinctively jumped when Alastor suddenly whirled around, kept twirling for a little while,
and finally stopped spinning when he put the stand of his microphone down with a violent
thwack to the marble flooring.

Bang!

“And a very good morning to you, too, my precious, personal ray of sunshine!” Alastor
powerfully proclaimed, making several startled sinners in the room turn their heads towards
us. “I see you have gotten out of bed as well! How lovely! And you even got yourself
something to eat, too! Ha ha! Isn’t that just great, Bob? Where are you – ohh, there you are,
you slippery sinner, you!”

Al threw an arm around Bob’s neck – who was indeed trying to sneak away, but failed
miserably – and pulled him back, grinning broadly.

“Say good morning to my dearest sweetheart, Bob!”

Bob frowned deeply, but gave me a nod anyway. “Good morning, Princess Charlotte.”

“Uhm... yeah, h-hello Bob – it’s Charlie, by the way... We talked about this, remember?” I
reminded him, smiling faintly as I checked both Bob and Alastor’s faces in turns. “By the
way – uhm – is everything alright here, guys?”

“Why of course,” Al said, finally releasing the other sinner with a chuckle. “Everything is
peachy, my love! Simply hunky-dory! I’m dying!”

Bob and I gave him a perplexed look.

“Yes! You heard that right! I'm dying! Dying... to find out just what you think of all this food
I prepared for you and the hotel’s worthless scum!” Al laughed and enclosed his sharp hands
around my shoulders in a somewhat painful way, pushing me and Bob to a table. He then
pulled two chairs back and urged us to sit down (he might have urged Bob a bit too
forcefully, since I heard his chair creak a bit), before bending down to me and pinching my
cheek.

“My goodness, just look at you! You look positively radiant today, my dear! Very very very
very beautiful! I might even scream!”

I stared at him, rubbing my now-throbbing face. I noticed there was a little too much gum
going on in his wide grin – way too much for it to be real or at least well-meant.

“Al—”

He interrupted me. “Now! I’ll go grab some grub as well! Why don’t you two mingle for a
little bit! I’ll be back in a jiffy!”

He was practically sprinting away before I could even try to say anything, leaving me and the
grumpy bird demon by ourselves, in total and complete confusion.

CcC

O-okay…

I had no idea how long Al would take before he’d be back, and I didn’t really want to deal
with an uncomfortable silence right now, so I turned to look at Bob, began to fidget with my
hair and smiled sheepishly at him.
“Sooo… I see you and Alastor are on speaking terms?”

“We are,” Bob replied.

“Uhm… oh, hey, don’t you want to go get some breakfast as well?”

“I already ate about ten plates.”

“Wha – ten plates?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. O-okay. Wow. That’s a lot!”

“Yes.”

“Huh…”

“Please do not misunderstand though. I merely ate what was on the plates. Not the plates
themselves.”

“Yeah, I – I kind of figured out that much, Bob…”

Bob didn’t say anything anymore, he just stared into the distance.

In response, I took my anxious fiddling to a whole new level and now started to twiddle not
only my thumbs, but all of my fingers.

Oh god, the uncomfortable silence – there it was! There was no escaping from it!

Crap. I pursed my lips and desperately tried to think of something, anything to talk to Bob
about, but since I was too dazed by Alastor’s (believe it or not) unusual hysterical behavior,
my mind was a blank. Just what was going on here, why was Al acting so strange and what
had Bob to do with all of this? I mean, why did Al want to have Bob sit at our table in the
first place? He barely allowed anybody to join me and him for breakfast on Sundays, so why
was he now making an exception - for Bob, of all people?

“What is that?” I heard Bob ask and when I looked up, I saw him pointing at my hands. I had
to process his words for a bit, but then I realized he was talking about the red cord, tied
around my ring finger.

I smiled, relieved there was something we could talk about, and raised the hand with the cord
up, just a little.

“Oh, this? It’s – um, well, it’s a bookmarker.”

“A bookmarker. Around your finger.”

“Yep!”
“But your finger is not a book.”

“Um… no, it isn’t. I mean, obviously, ha ha…”

He glanced up to my face. “He has a bookmarker tied to his finger as well.”

“Al, you mean? Uhm, yes, he has.” I cleared my throat and pushed some of my hair behind
my ear. “It’s… just a little something between the two of us, nothing you should be worried
about.”

Bob kept looking at the red string like it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen.
Then his cold eyes sought contact with mine yet again, which kind of made me freeze. There
just was something unsettling about Bob.

“I had wanted to ask you this sooner, but are you planning on marrying that fool?” he asked,
out of the blue.

My heart skipped a beat and I felt my face was getting red. “Wow. I – I guess it kind of
shows, huh?”

Bob nodded. “The red thread of fate, or marriage. It is a well-known belief in East Asia: two
lovers that are connected to each other by an invisible red thread are destined to always be
together. The cord that bounds them together may tangle and may stretch out, but it can never
break. You two took it a bit literally, I see.”

I grinned bashfully - I couldn’t help it. I had heard about this legend as well, after all, and I’d
be lying if I claimed those kind of thoughts hadn't gone through my head, when I had tied the
red bookmarker (that's right, it was even red!) around Alastor’s ring finger.

“It’s something like that, yes.”

“I do not understand.” Bob shook his head. “You seem to be a fairly intelligent woman.
Someone who has seen her share of unredeemable sinners and hopeless maniacs. And yet –
you still fell in love with that man, and you are even willing to eventually marry him.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Even though you know about his past. You know what kind of person he is. You know what
he is capable of.” His orbs seem to darken. “You know you do not know everything.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it again. Searching for the right words to
say, I rubbed my arm and avoided Bob’s gaze.

Time passed slowly, but Bob was patient – and Al took a long while to return. So I had more
than enough time to think about how to respond to the stern, aloof sinner on the other side of
the table.

Finally, I straightened my back and raised both my face as well as my voice.

“I get what you're trying to say, Bob. And you're right. Alastor’s done so many things wrong
when he was still alive, it’s sickening. He can be awful – terrible, downright terrifying even,
and he’s probably more than able to take over most of Hell, if he had such crazy ambitions.
He can’t be redeemed. I realize that, now. I’m… also aware that there are still many things I
don’t know. Things he… hasn’t told me yet, quietly hides away from me. However, I can’t
help it. I agree with you, Bob, I do: Alastor is not a good man, not at all. He’s mean, and
mysterious, and keeps his distance. But in the end, he still chose to give me his heart.”

I sighed and let out a soft chuckle.

“You see, Bob, I’ve seen his humane side. I’ve seen him getting excited about books, just like
a regular person would get giddy about a hobby. I’ve felt a vulnerable warmth in his harsh,
aggressive touch to my hand – a warmth so soft, so gentle and so desperate I was afraid he
would accidentally kill it before he’d even become fully aware of it. However, when he
finally gave in to his feelings for me, he didn’t hold back. He gave me all of them – every
single bit of love his wary, sheltered, faulty heart could muster to share. Unabashed.
Unashamed. He – did things for me nobody had ever done for me before and he overcame
obstacles and insecurities he otherwise wouldn’t even have thought about overcoming.”

Since Bob didn’t try to interrupt me, I didn’t stop.

“He – he makes me feel like I’m worth something. Like there is nothing in Hell that could
prevent me from reaching whatever goal I want to reach, even if he doesn’t always agree with
me. He’s the biggest, most annoying, most tiresome critic I have in my life, laughing at every
step I take on the road to making this hotel of mine a success – but he’ll passionately cheer
me on all the way, always pull me back up when I fall down, hold me close when I feel like
crying and he… he believes in me. Not in my cause, per se, but in me. One hundred percent.
And that is more than I could ever wish for.”

“Don’t forget to mention he also allowed you to fuck his sacred virgin dick, toots,” Angel
Dust casually remarked, passing by our table with a couple of half-eaten plates.

While my wonderfully mature, serene and calm mood was instantly shattered and I started to
sputter incomprehensible things, clasping my burning-hot face in a weak attempt to cool it
down, Bob made a simple statement.

“So you truly love him.”

“I-I do!” I said, grateful he didn’t pay Angel’s comment any mind.

“I see.” Bob made a face that almost – just almost – resembled an emotion. “How tragic.”

I felt a sinking feeling in my chest. For some reason, his stoically spoken words had a
foreboding ring to them. But why was that – Bob was just another sinner! Or… did he know
something I didn’t? I moved my tongue over my dry lips, watching Bob frown and twist his
mouth, and I was about to ask him what he meant – what was tragic, what made him look
like that, when—

“Well hello again, dear table companions! I have returned, ha ha!”

I almost fell from my chair when a plate with toast, marmalade and what-not was suddenly
smacked down on the table. Alastor had indeed returned from the serving tables at last, and
he now noisily sat down on the chair next to me, still oozing all of this raw, chaotic, wild
energy that somehow was different from his… normal raw, chaotic, wild energy.

As Al hummed a little song and neatly spread a clean napkin on his lap (and as Bob started to
hiss and lower himself in his chair, doing his best to become invisible), I gave him a worried
look.

“Are you okay, Al?”

Without thinking, I touched his arm – and he reacted like a wasp had stung him, flinching and
cutting right through the plate. With a spoon, not to mention!

“Why I’m dead certain everything’s a-okay, my dear!” he said, shooting me another grin.
“Perish the thought something would be wrong with me, right, Bob? Good ol’ Bobbert? He
absolutely despises it when you call him Bobbert, Charlie. Give it a go! Ha ha!”

“Could I leave now?” I noticed Bob was talking to me, not Al – he was too busy ignoring Al
(or at least trying to do so). “Please let me leave, Your Highness.”

I nodded. Maybe Al would calm down a little and tell me why the heck he was acting so
weird after Bob had left, I reasoned.

But Alastor didn’t have any of that and shook his head. “Oh no, no no no, not so fast, you’re
not giving up the ghost now, dear Bob! You’re not done for, yet!”

Bob rolled his eyes, as if Al had told him a really cheesy pun, and I felt I was getting fed-up
with Alastor’s theatrics.

“Yes, you can leave, Bob, of course you can! And I’m sorry for his behavior.” I then turned to
Alastor. “Will you stop it already? He has finished his breakfast and he clearly doesn’t want
to sit here anymore – mostly thanks to you, really! Just let him be!”

I didn’t snap often at Alastor and it wasn’t something he was used to, either. That’s why I
could tell a perplexed, baffled panic was building up rapidly inside of him. His fake smile
began to shake and falter and his movements became even more erratic and grotesque.

“But – all this succulent food, Charlie – isn’t it just great to enjoy it together, in the company
of friends, like this—”

Smack.

The short, yet fierce slap was heard by all in the dining room and everyone fell silent as I
blinked – and felt my hurt nose started dripping a warm, thick fluid down my mouth and
chin.

He hadn’t done it on purpose – I know he hadn’t – but Alastor had still smacked me right in
the face with his exaggerated gestures, the hard impact of his clenched fist against my nose
causing it to bleed uncontrollably.
Alastor stared at me, his face white and bewildered, his smile paralyzed with shock. I could
hear that invisible radio audience of his gasp out loud, jeering at their host in utter disgust.

I quickly realized I should let him know I was okay, before he went full-radio static (I already
noted the increasing screeching of white noise surrounding him) – but when I tried to say
something, I only managed to spit blood all around me, on my clothes and on my food. It
even caused a few nearby sinners to faint on the spot. Oh geez, he had hit me harder than I
thought!

“Did you just fucking hit her,” an enraged Vaggie all of a sudden yelled through the room,
her exclamation and accusation cutting through the tension like a white-hot knife, and
bringing a totally thunderstruck Alastor back to his senses.

“I…”

I shot up from my chair. “Calm down Vaggie, it was an accident!”

Standing up for Al was the right thing to do, sure… but all the blood that trickled down my
face was now slowly but surely coloring my white shirt red in the most horrific kind of way,
which didn’t exactly help, and when the murmuring in the room was getting louder, I didn’t
really know what to do next, either.

Until Bob flung a crumpled up napkin into Alastor’s face and pointed to the door to the
kitchen, over his shoulder.

“If you do not wish to make matters worse, get her out of here.”

Without saying a word or even batting his eyes, Al grabbed me by the waist, tucked me under
his arm and ran for the kitchen door, as fast as he could, while I helplessly dangled in the air,
clumsily holding my nose, bleeding all over the place like there was no tomorrow.

Well, so much for relaxing Sundays!

CcC

As soon as we got into the kitchen, Alastor plopped me on top of a sideboard and collected a
whole bunch of paper towels, before returning back to me – and pretty much stuffing them
right into my face. I stammered that yes I got it, I got it, Al, and that he should calm down
already, but it wasn’t before he almost destroyed a dresser he kept accidentally bumping his
head against during his rampage in the kitchen that he finally heard my voice.

“That’s enough, Al!”

He stopped attempting to tear the poor dresser off the wall, took a few deep breaths, and,
after a while, turned around to face me. He looked absolutely mortified, so much that it was
almost comical – I mean, nobody had passed away or anything, it wasn’t that bad. Alastor did
his best to evade my gaze and obviously didn’t know what to do with himself, standing there
in the middle of the kitchen with a rigid smile and a random polka-dotted towel in his hands.

The towel gave me an idea though and I cleared my throat.

“Can you put some water on that towel, Al? You know… to help me wash the blood off off
me?”

“I can do that,” he finally – finally! – said, and went to the kitchen sink. As Alastor held the
towel underneath the pouring water, I used the paper towels to stuff my nose and wipe away
as much blood as I was able to. It was a mess – god, I had no idea nosebleeds could get this
awful and bloody! – but it was manageable, and by the time Alastor came back, I didn’t look
all that ghoulish anymore.

“You look ghoulish,” Alastor commented, as he – gingerly – took my chin in his hand and
studied my face.

Oh.

Well what did I know?

“Good ghoulish or bad ghoulish?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He rubbed the towel over the skin of my throat and cocked an eyebrow at me. “Charlie, my
love, your nose is swollen and red, there’s blood all over you – even down your neck – and
your clothes look like their owner has been pulled through a wringer of some sorts.”

“Good ghoulish it is,” I decided and flashed him a teasing smile.

Alastor snorted and tried to ignore it, but I noticed my grin put him more at ease, and his stiff
lips relaxed a little.

My smile softened as he finished cleaning up my face and neck and now reached for my
bloodied hands.

“Hey Al?”

“Hmm?”

I gently gripped the towel brushing over my hands. “I could go for a kiss.”

Al’s mismatched eyes flicked up again, meeting mine. “You want a kiss? Now?”

“Yep.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure.” I tried to make my point extra clear by closing my eyes, puckering my lips and
leaning more towards him.
I heard him choke out something that I think was a laugh. Then he gripped my chin once
again, roughly wiped my mouth a few more times, probably to be sure there wasn’t any
snotty blood left, and pressed his lips to mine. I felt he didn’t really put his heart into it, but
that only motivated me to do put effort in it – and when he started to move backwards, away
from me, I simply moved forward with him. I even took hold of his face, keeping it still as I
kissed him, and kissed him, and then kissed him some more, until he gave in with a
shuddering sigh, shutting his eyes. His kisses grew slightly more passionate and he finally let
me pull him flush against me, silently wrapping his arms around me.

I leaned back a bit, panting slightly. “It’s okay, Al.”

I caressed his jawline, my finger fluttering over his skin. He looked at me for a while with an
incomprehensible expression, then pressed his lips together firmly and squished his face into
the crook of my neck.

“Please forgive me, Charlie.”

“I just said it’s okay, Al.” I put my arms around him reassuringly, stroking his back and
fondling the top of his head. “It was just an accident. You didn’t mean to punch me in the
face, you were just making those weird, grandiose gestures you like doing so much.”

“Accident or not, I still hurt you,” he muffled against my neck.

It tickled, so I wiggled around a little, still holding on to him. “Well yes, I mean, it was a fist
to the nose, but – hey, it’s not the end of the world! It was just a stupid incident and nobody
died, right?”

I laughed a bit, hoping that that would cause him to chuckle as well... but instead of
chuckling, I felt Alastor was squeezing me tightly and started to breathe in and out in a really
disturbing way – too fast, too puffy, too unnatural – and oh my god, he was hyperventilating,
he was having another panic attack, yes – yes, that was a panic attack for sure, and I didn’t
know why. Maybe it was the tension coming out? That would explain a lot, really.

It wasn’t the first time Al forgot how to breathe the right way, so luckily, I knew how to
handle this. Not wasting a single moment, I placed my hands on his shoulders, firmly shoved
him off me, took one of his hands right after and pressed it against my chest.

“Easy now, Al – and look at me. Look at – yes, like that. I’m here. Just breathe with me,
okay?” I kept my own hand on his, hoping he would feel the slow and steady heaving of my
chest. “Slowly and deeply… inhale through your nose, exhale through your mouth. Just like I
do. Take your time.”

For the following five minutes, Al kept his glassy eyes, one of them looking like a frenzied
radio dial, locked on mine. He did the best he could to copy my way of breathing. I just sat
there and breathed in and out as smoothly as I could. It wasn’t easy – I freaked out a little as
well whenever Alastor had one of these episodes – but I kept a surprisingly cool head,
rewarding Al’s efforts with silly little squeezes to his shoulder.
By the way, I had once read somewhere cupping a hyperventilating person’s mouth with your
hands could help out as well, but when I had tried that one out a while ago – when a furious
Al had started breathing funnily because Angel Dust had replaced all of his most cherished
possessions with dildo’s and other funky sex toys – Al had almost bitten my hands off, so no
way I was going to use that method anymore.

I could fix this, though.

I smiled and tenderly gripped Al’s pointy claw resting on my chest, trembling slightly but
still holding on to me.

It was going to be alright.

CcC

Eventually, Alastor calmed down enough to laugh shakily at some stupid jokes I told him
(about how flattering it was I still managed to take his breath away, about how breezily he
was handling this situation, how he didn’t put on any airs, et cetera). That was a sign he was
feeling better, so I beamed him a big grin and poked a finger into his cheek.

Only to become aware of something.

Hmm. I furrowed my brows, brushed away his hair and pressed a hand to his forehead.

Al didn’t protest, giving me a questioning look. “Is there something the matter?”

“You’re way too hot.”

“Oh my, Charlie! Not in front of the kitchen utensils!”

I chuckled at that, happy to hear he sounded a lot more like himself, but then I got serious
again.

“I think you’re running a fever, Al.” I felt my own forehead to check. “Yeah – you’re
definitely running a fever. Sheesh, no wonder you’ve been acting so weird and nearly forgot
to breathe– you’re getting sick!”

Alastor seemed lost in his own thoughts for a minute or so, but then his eyes were clear again
and he helped me off the kitchen counter.

“Ahem. Yes – allow me to apologize for my rude behavior in the dining room as well. I –
indeed was not feeling well.”

“You could have told me, you know?” I huffed, putting my hands on my hips. “I knew
something was off with you this morning – I smelled it, right when I woke up!”

Al folded his arms on his back and chortled. “Ha! You smelled it? That’s adorable.”
 I flushed, but didn’t get distracted for too long. “I – okay, maybe I didn’t exactly smell it, but
you know what I mean! And you better tell me next time you’re feeling bad, you hear? I
know it’s important for me to rest, but – for the love of god, Al, you don’t need to sacrifice
yourself for my sake!”

At that, Alastor seemed to have an answer at the ready. I saw he had – it was the way his
pupils enlarged, the way his grin twitched. I gave him an encouraging look, curious, hoping
he would tell me what was on his mind.

But in the end, Alastor simply shook his head with a somewhat sad smile, and took my hand
in his.

“Ah – it’s nothing. Well then! Please escort me to bed, my darling, charming nurse.”

Chapter End Notes

A mermaid saves a human prince from drowning to death and falls in love with him.
Longing to be with him, she seeks help from the fearsome Sea Witch. The Witch says
she’ll help her – but only in exchange for the mermaid’s tongue and beautiful voice.
Also, she won’t be able to return to sea after the deal has been made. The mermaid
agrees to the Witch’s terms. Excruciating painful moments later, the mermaid has lost
her tail and has gotten legs instead. She is human now – or she at least will become one
for real, if she manages to win the Prince’s love and marries him. The Prince finds her
on the beach and lets her live with him, and although the mermaid is in constant pain
because of her hurting feet, she is happy. But then tragedy strikes, as the Prince falls in
love with another girl. The mermaid is heartbroken, but when her sisters, who sacrificed
their long hair for her, offer their little sister a chance to escape her doom (by killing the
Prince and his lover with a dagger), the mermaid refuses. At the break of dawn, she
dives into the sea and dissolves into sea foam. She feels good, however, like a daughter
of the air, and it is said that, after doing good deeds for mankind for 300 years, she will
be able to obtain a soul and ascend to Heaven one day.

This is one of the most famous and beloved fairytales written by the Danish author Hans
Christian Andersen (1805-1875). Some people say Andersen wrote this story for a male
friend of his he had fallen in love with, but could never be with. He even (kind of)
confessed to the man in a letter and sent him this story!
 Icarus' Flight
Chapter Summary

Alastor gets sick.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Charlie was amazing, even when she didn’t realize she was. Especially when she didn’t
realize she was.

As soon as she had come to the (understandable and also quite correct) conclusion I was
acting strange because of a lingering illness, she was quick to dismiss my former behavior: I
was acting weird and didn't think straight because of my sickness and fever, she probably
rationalized. Charlie even shushed me when I tried to apologize to her some more and after
her nosebleed had officially stopped, she took me by the hand and resolutely tugged me with
her, out of the kitchen.

Most of the sinners were still having (second) breakfast at that point – and many of them
looked up in excited wonder (something tumultuous was going on in the usually so boring
and dull hotel, after all!) when Charlie and I came waltzing through the dining hall. Not
wanting to get literally dragged away by her like that, I increased my pace to keep up with
her.

Nobody said anything in the room, not even Vaggie, although the moth demoness had stood
up from her chair and blocked Charlie’s path for a bit, her single eye fierce and unforgiving,
her hands clasped around that white spear of hers. With a single shake of her head though,
Charlie managed to get her friend to move away.

“I’ll explain later, okay?” I heard her say to Vaggie without doing as much as glimpse at her,
and the princess walked right on through.

I couldn’t help but flash Vaggie a large grin, giving her a pestering salute as I strolled past her
as well. The poor insect looked like she was going to blow her top and maim me on the spot,
but Husker – not even looking away from his baked beans – easily grabbed her wrist,
muttered something I didn't catch and pulled her back down on her seat.

I chuckled a little as I looked at the two of them, over my shoulder. That’s right! Even now, in
spite of everything, if there was an opportunity to mock Charlie’s former lover – I would
gladly take it. I would grasp that magnificent chance with both of my hands, with all my
might, and I would act accordingly.
Because in all honesty, everything was spinning and crying out loud inside of me and I had to
grasp something to hold on to.

I had to keep myself distracted.

For as long as there were other people close-by, I had to keep it up.

AaA

As soon as we got back in the bedroom, Charlie sternly sat me down on the bed, disappeared
into the adjunct bathroom and came back with that silly first aid-kit she always seemed to
have within arm’s reach. She opened it, her forehead wrinkled with worry. Thankfully, it
became smooth again when she triumphantly pulled out a medicinal thermometer. She
sanitized it, quickly yet thoroughly, and then held it out in front of me.

“Alright Al – put this in your mouth for a while and keep it underneath your tongue, okay?”

Endeared by her almost-but-not-quite demanding tone, I obediently did what I was told and
watched as Charlie now began to rummage through the closet next to the bed. When her
blonde head finally turned around again, I saw she had a fresh, new set of nightwear in her
arms. Apparently, I wasn’t going to leave this room anymore today.

“No you aren’t,” Charlie pointedly huffed, taking the thermometer out of my mouth after a
few more minutes and studying it, “101.2 °F! That’s a fever alright – you’re not going
anywhere anymore!”

“Well it’s not that bad,” I reassured her (my fever was the last thing I was worried about) and
I abruptly stopped talking when she began to insistently pull on my clothes and fumble with
my high collar.

Although Charlie was allowed to freely touch me, my pent-up frustration about my current
situation almost caused me to shove her annoying, intrusive hands away and do it myself –
but fortunately, Charlie realized in time I didn’t like her actions. Flustered, she halted her
touching and gave me some more space, mumbling a soft apology.

I sent her a grateful smile and even felt like laughing out loud when Charlie politely turned
around as I started changing myself.

“Now now, you don’t have to go that far, my love! Nothing you haven’t seen before, after
all!”

She carefully peeked back at me. “You sure?”

It once more amazed me just how coy this lovely woman could be. She was a very skilled
lover, and she was the daughter of a legendary and infamous succubus: sexual situations or
situations that could be considered slightly erotic shouldn’t embarrass her, or at the very least
not as much as they would embarrass me, for example. And yet, here she was, sitting on the
edge of the bed, at a safe distance from me, blushing from her already pink cheeks to the tips
of her ears as she watched me (un)dress myself.

Her shyness put me at ease, though, as if it was normal to feel a bit tense and even prudish in
these circumstances (which, in all honesty, I always did), and the irritation I had felt earlier
quickly changed into a deep appreciation for her presence.

“Oh, Al – you’re doing it all wrong,” Charlie said, pointing at the way I was buttoning up my
pajama vest. “Here, let me help you out…”

She looked at me for a moment, giving me time to refuse her help. I simply smiled at her
again, undid the (indeed very sloppily-done, my lord) buttoning I had been doing and swiftly
pulled her from the bed. Charlie let out a startled “eep” and fell against my chest – rather
dramatically, even.

“My my, aren’t you eager today,” I grinned, as she put her hands against me and looked up
with a slight frown.

“And you are a total jerk today, you know that?”

I laughed and patted her head. “Oh I am aware!”

She sighed – but then smiled again, and got this adorable, concentrated glister in her eyes as
he started buttoning up my vest with the utmost care.

I retreated my arms, put my them on my back and let her. The back of my hand throbbed, but
as long as I was here with Charlie, it wasn’t too bad. I could endure and even smother the
thoughts that came with the pain, as long as she was here with me.

“Anyway, just in case you didn’t catch it earlier,” she said, as her nimble fingers moved over
my buttons, “you are sick, so you can’t leave this room or even the bed today. Am I clear?”

“Clear as day,” I nodded.

“Vaggie and I will be taking over. It’s not a big deal, we’ve done this for a while now, so
everything will be okay. Alright? Don’t worry about it.”

“I won’t,” I promised, absentmindedly winding a lock of her hair around my fingers.

“You should rest and sleep a lot today.” Charlie finished buttoning the final buttons of my
vest. “I’ll be busy most of the day, but I’ll make sure to stop by the library at noon and bring
you your book. Then I’ll spend my break here, with you. I’ll be visiting you around 2 PM
though, since it’s already kind of late, and there's still a lot that needs to be done. Okay?”

“I love you,” I said.

“Yes, and you should also—” Her words caught in her throat all of a sudden and her bright
eyes moved upwards, her mouth hanging open, just a little. Slowly, her cheeks reddened yet
again.
“O-oh. Yes, I – I love you, too!”

I snickered, enchanted by her obvious elation, and tilted her blooming face up, so that I could
place a kiss on those lovely lips of hers. Then I wound my arms around her and snuggled my
face in her fluffy hair, taking in her comforting and well-known scent. Charlie laughed at
that, hugged me back and wrapped her arms around me as well. She rubbed her face against
my chest and exhaled softly, and then she—

I jumped a bit in surprise when I felt her hands grabbing my behind.

Firmly.

I groaned. “Good gracious, Charlie. Is that… really necessary?”

“What – groping your butt? Yes. It saves my life every day.” She gave me a playful look, her
smile innocent, yet at the same time not innocent, not at all.

Still, her voice sounded unsure when she quietly asked me if I actually did mind it.

I put her mind at ease: “It’s not that I mind, per se, but – well, I don’t get your fascination
with my behind. It baffles me.”

Charlie shrugged. “I just like your butt.”

“Why though?”

“It’s a nice butt.”

“It’s barely a butt.”

“It's a nice butt and it belongs to me.”

“What – no it doesn't! You have your own!”

Charlie burst into a bubbly laughter. It was so lively, and joyful, and filled with an earnest
happiness my own laughter couldn’t hold a candle to. It was also highly contagious,
incredibly delightful, and so its wonderful sound caused me to laugh as well, holding on to
my sweet princess just a little bit tighter.

We stood like that for a while, until Charlie gave me a swift and friendly, final pat on the butt
and started pulling herself away from me.

“Okay – let’s get you into bed, Al. You need to sleep and—wha—!”

Charlie let out a surprised yelp when I all of a sudden moved her towards the bed and swiftly
pushed her down on its mattress. She fell down on her back and by the time she had
recovered from the shock, I was already straddling her, having her wrists pinned next to her
lovely and oh so very beautiful face. It was a pity I was getting dizzy fast, and didn’t see
exactly straight anymore – because otherwise, I had surely started feasting on this
captivating creature’s kissable skin already, marking it with love bites, listening to her lewd
gasps, feeling her figure shudder and squirm longingly against mine, like it had done last
night.

“A-Al?” Charlie then stammered. She observed me cautiously, but didn’t protest.

“Why don’t you stay with me, my love,” I suggested, as the black shade of my shadow fell
upon her. “Yes, that’s a wonderful idea! Stay here. Lay in bed with me. Take off those
bothersome clothes. Let me spoil and ravish you as many times as your heart and body
desire. Tell me what you want. Dear god, why is this room spinning around so much?”

Charlie, who up till that last remark had been listening to me with barely-hidden excitement,
instantly stopped giggling and gnawing her lower lip – and instead, she stared at me,
concerned. Then she sighed and smiled at me.

“We can’t do that, Al.”

“We can’t?” I blinked, wobbling a little.

Charlie shook her head. “You’re sick, sweetie. I can’t have sex with you when you’re sick,
that’s not right. I mean, you’re literally swaying back and forth now!”

“Sweetie,” I repeated.

Charlie blushed, caught in the act, and cleared her throat. “N-now… can you get off me?”

“You called me sweetie.”

“Al…”

“That’s the most embarrassing thing you have ever called me.”

“Uhm… I-I…”

“Good lord.”

“I-I know, alright!” Charlie squealed, now actively wrestling to get out of my grip. “It just –
flooped out, alright? I couldn’t help it, you looked all fawny and mopey when I rejected you
just now and it was just so adorable and I just—!”

Charlie kept on rambling for a while, which was incredibly cute when she was as flushed and
rattled as she now was – dear god, it probably was illegal in multiple states and countries to
be this forsakenly sweet, but I couldn’t focus on it: my head started to bonk and my right
hand’s back hurt, like somebody was stabbing it with a fork and kept pressuring it afterwards,
and for a short moment, I couldn’t see or hear anything at all anymore.

Just darkness and silence. And I liked neither.

AaA
When I finally opened my eyes again, I was still in bed – but now I was laying on my back,
underneath the covers, with a couple of pillows behind me for support. It was very soft and
very comfortable, no doubt about it, and I gave Charlie, who worriedly sat next to the bed, a
small, soothing smile.

“Hello again, my love.”

“Hi.” Charlie answered my smile with an equally little one, but it was clear she was relieved
to see me grin. “You… kind of passed out on me, Al, so I took that opportunity to – uhm,
push you off me, tuck you in and check your temperature again.”

I nodded. “How very considerate of you.”

“Your fever went up a bit, so – you really should take it easy now.”

“I understand.”

“Okay.”

“Now please call me sweetie once more.”

Charlie’s jaw dropped at that. Then, her eyes lit up and she let out a genuine snort. “Al! Oh
my god, you’re still going on about that?”

I chuckled, feeling a little better now that her spirits were lifted.

“Now now, Charlie! It is of the utmost importance you call me sweetie. Please. Seconds in
which you didn’t call out to me using the most sugary pet name in existence are relentlessly
passing, right as we speak, and that’s a most dangerous feat! Why, the universe might even
ultimately implode if you don’t want to call me sweetie anymore! Do you want the universe
to implode, Charlie?”

“So it’s that important, huh,” Charlie grinned, shoving her chair a bit closer to the bed. “How
about I call you darling instead, hmm?”

I cursed my face’s betrayal as I felt it grow hotter, immediately. “No.”

“No?”

“No. Don’t.”

“You like it though, don’t you…”

“Please stop.”

“…darling?”

“Charlie, I swear to all of your uncles.”

She giggled as I tried to compose myself and cool off my burning cheeks. Fortunately for me,
she didn’t continue her teasing. Her laughter quickly lessened when her eyes locked
themselves onto mine and eventually, her frown was back where it was, albeit not as
dominant as it was before.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Better,” I said, which wasn’t a lie.

“Hmm.” She sat back and bit her lip – this time, in a very not-seductive (yet still attractive)
way. “Listen, Al, you’re not going to like this, but if your fever won’t go down in the next
few days, I’ll call the Royal Doctors.”

I cocked my head. “But that means you’ll have to talk to your parents again.”

“No it doesn’t.” Her gaze darkened. “Doctor Jos gave me all of their personal phone numbers,
back when you got skewered by Hakim. I don’t need to talk to them anymore in order to get
the doctors.”

Hm. She wasn’t even calling her parents ‘Mother’ and ‘Father’ anymore, hm?

I let out a sigh. “Alright, my love.”

It pleased me to see Charlie respond to my answer with a satisfied, content curve around her
mouth.

“That’s a deal. I think I’ll leave you be for now then, okay?” She got up from her chair. “I’ll
come back later to check up on you, I promise – and then we’ll spend some more time
together, alright?”

She bent over, pushed back my hair and placed a sweet peck on my forehead.

I gave her an absentminded nod as she left the room.

In all honesty, I’d rather not see those… peculiar doctors of hers: they annoyed me, and the
more people that saw me in this weakened state, the more vulnerable I’d feel. However, I had
unwillingly frustrated, shocked, hurt and pestered Charlie more than enough today, and now,
all I wanted for her was to feel like everything was going to be okay.

Because everything was going to be okay. Naturally. Naturally.

I needed to talk to that Angel again.

AaA

Within, oh, well, five to ten minutes after Charlie had left the chamber, I had already used my
own manners of communication to send a signal to Husk to come to Charlie’s bedroom. If
possible, immediately. If not possible, also immediately. It was absurdly important he would
come to me as quickly as his enormous wings could carry him: I refused to be alone with the
disturbing images my own haunted mind was rapidly (and most of all mercilessly) whipping
up, right after Charlie had left me by myself.

Because yes, of course my mind went wild as soon as it saw its chance! This was my mind,
after all! It exaggerated everything!

I needed distractions, I needed answers. Fast. Also, I had no idea what would happen if I
stayed on my own in this hazy state I was in right now – and I certainly didn’t feel like
finding out.

I had a feeling furniture would get broken.

A lot of furniture.

And I didn’t think the hotel had the right insurance coverage for that.

Wait, no, why on Earth I was even worrying about the hotel’s household insurance? I
couldn’t care less about the damn household insurance!

Just when I started to wonder whether or not there was some insane connection between
being faced with a untimely death and random thoughts about the importance of having a
good insurance coverage, a knock on the door saved me from getting even more confused
and bothered with myself.

“Asshole,” Husk tiredly acknowledged me, as his furry face peeked into the bedroom.

“Husker!” I exclaimed.

His already upside-down smile grew even less cheerful when he noticed my excitement upon
seeing him and he rolled with his eyes. “Yeah yeah – listen, you red dickhead, I got your
message. Just came here to tell you ‘fuck you, I’m not your damn errand boy’. Now I’m
going away again. I… crap, I probably shouldn’t even have bothered coming up here in the
first place. What the hell was I thinking? What am I even doing here? Fuck. Ugh. Anyways,
up yours, you fucki—”

“Can you do me a favor and send Bob up here?” I impatiently asked him.

Husk gasped and furrowed his bushy eyebrows like I had personally insulted him and every
crabby, catlike alcoholic in his bloodline. “What the– you rude piece of shit, did you even
HEAR me?”

“Yes, I heard you, but I have no time for your delightful shenanigans. This is a matter of life
or death, I’m afraid.” I clasped my hands together tightly – the healthy one on top of the
cursed one – and looked the cat demon straight in the eyes. “Help me out here. Please.”

He was so perplexed by my quietly-spoken words that his already large eyes grew yet another
size. “Fuckin’ hell, you actually told me please. I never thought I’d see the damn day. I didn’t
know you even knew of the word’s existence! Shit, you really are sick!”
“I am,” I confirmed.

“How… bad is it?”

“Quite bad.”

“Yeah?”

“Hm-hm.”

He stood in the doorway for a couple of seconds, his face an enigma. One of his claws still
stubbornly held on to the doorknob as he tried to figure out what to say to me. In the end, he
didn’t say anything to me at all and cast his eyes downwards, his nuzzle resembling a
disgruntled expression. Grumbling to himself, he muttered that I was the biggest pain in the
ass he had ever known, and that he needed a drink, and that he’d see what he could do for me.

“Thank you, old friend,” I said – but he was already gone before I had finished my sentence.

AaA

Husk might be a hopeless drunkard, a chagrined, grouchy cat demon and probably the most
pessimistic sinner that was on Charlie’s payroll – but he also was the most reliable ally I
could call upon, in my time of need. I didn’t even have to wait for another five minutes
before, yet again, somebody knocked on Charlie’s bedroom door. I told them to come in.

A little while later, Bob and his long face sat next to the bed. Everything about him screamed
he didn’t want to be here, but still – he was here. And he wasn’t alone either, because
apparently, Charlie’s extremely annoying goat bodyguards had brashly entered the bedroom
as well, and they were now circling around the Angel like a pair of affection-starved dogs. Or
hungry vultures. One or the other.

I wrinkled up my nose at the sight of Bob, apathetically patting one of the goats on the head a
couple of times.

“I see you got yourself a nice couple of pets,” I said.

“I know and I cannot help it,” Bob sighed. “I suspect the princess told them to keep an eye on
me, and ever since then, they have been following me throughout the entire hotel. Secretly at
first, but when they found out I had found out, they simply dropped the spying act and just
started following me around outright, in plain sight, not even trying to act secretive
anymore.”

“They seem to like you.”

“How delightful, I might pull a muscle from pure happiness and glee.” Bob grumbled when
one of the goat demons gripped one of his legs and hugged it clingingly. “Anyway, that
drunk, feline lackey of yours threatened to tell me his devastatingly depressing life story
unless I looked you up right this instant, so here I am.”
“So that actually worked?” I blinked in surprise.

“You seem to underestimate just how much I loathe life stories nowadays, thanks to… certain
events.” He looked at me darkly.

I smiled. “Rosie did a good number on you, didn’t she?”

“If I’ll ever see that woman again and she starts rambling about her neighbors’ curtains one
more time, I will personally throw myself from the highest building in Hell.” A deep,
exhausted sigh, as the Angel tried to push the goats off his lap. “Now, Alastor. Would you
please tell me why you needed to talk to me again?”

AaA

After Bob had locked the two goat demons outside of Charlie’s room – because I naturally
wasn’t going to talk about anything as long as those two spying pieces of Hell-vermin were
lurking around – I explained to the Angel what had been on my mind ever since he had told
me those prognostic words in the dining room.

He patiently listened to me without interrupting me once, politely nodding and humming a

few times, and when I was done talking, he simply shrugged.

“The Mark of the Fallen is normally meant to be put only onto (Arch)angels that have
misbehaved, banning them from God’s Paradise and preventing them from ever returning to
Heaven. Both Archangels as well as normal Angels have these kinds of extraordinary
powers, but naturally, the ungodly power of an Archangel surpasses that of a regular Angel
by far. Banning (Arch)angels from Heaven is something that happens rarely, fortunately
enough – but it does happen, every once in a while.”

“I’m not an Angel,” I kindly reminded him.

He snorted. “You certainly are not. You are a filthy, flawed, sinful mortal. Therefore, the
spell I bewitched you with is a curse that is far too powerful for your feeble soul to handle.
Normally, I would have apologized to you for giving you this curse: I had forgotten all about
that spell's quaint side-effect on humans when I gave it to you - and I only remembered it
today, after I saw your twitching hand. However, I will not apologize to you. Because I hate
you. It is what it is.”

Speechless, I stared at Bob.

He continued: “It will take some time before you die, because I am not as powerful as an
Archangel and you happen to have a remarkable strong human soul: let us not forget you
have proven to be vigorous enough to overthrow many overlords here, take down and capture
a literal Angel and you are even considered to be quite the threat to the King of Hell himself.
Putting all of that aside, however… in time, the curse will take its toll on you, and you will
succumb to it.”
I still couldn’t speak.

“It is going to be a rather painful death, too,” he carried on, since I was unable to heckle him.
The faintest hint of a sadistic smile crept around his lips, something I had seen on his placid
face before. “You probably remember how much it hurt when my Heavenly spears were
stuck in your back, yes? That burning, everything-consuming anguish I put you through.
Well, I am not sure, but I believe your death-struggle will be something like that – only then
ten times worse, and you will feel its hot, endless agony everywhere. Every piece of limb,
every bit of flesh, every vein inside of you. It will throb, sting and ache, like there is a deadly
poison spreading through your tormented body… which is exactly that, in all fairness. And
then, after you have fought your best fight, after you have trashed about for hours… you will
die. Again.”

No words. There were none.

The Angel stoically looked at my immobilized face. “And you know what happens once you
die a second time, do you not? Your body will remain – but your soul will get absorbed by
the Void and it will never see the light of day again. You will be gone. Deader than dead. And
all of Hell will heave a sigh of relief. Except for…”

Bob’s voice suddenly got a slight, strangled tone to it. This tone I detected, together with
those final two words, were the only reasons why I was still able to raise my head and not
break down in another panic attack. It was a tone, no, an emotion that was very rare down
here in Hell. A bizarre, worthless trait most sinners didn’t have, or denied to have.

Oh my.

Bob felt guilty.

Perhaps he couldn’t show it all that well and perhaps he was ecstatic about the fact he had
already, more or less, killed his biggest tormentor, but all of that didn’t matter. Fact was that
Bob – good ol’ Bobbert, our stolen Angel, with the damaged wings and a severely weakened
mental health – liked Charlie. The only being here in Hell that was nice to him and tried her
best to heal him.

“That’s right,” I heard myself calmly speak up, my grin stretching out wide. “Everybody will
be happy with my untimely demise, yes – everybody, except for her.”

Bob swallowed, visually getting uncomfortable. “I…”

“Well how about that!” I rampaged on. “You’re not only going to withhold the love of my
life from ascending to Heaven, but you’re also going to be responsible for the death of her
lover – ha, what am I saying – her betrothed! What a nice how-do-you-do, what a lovely
thank-you-very-much for somebody that has only been kind to you, that has welcomed you in
her hotel with open arms, that was willing to do everything for you, just because she is so
mindlessly – so frustratingly – so god-forsakenly good!”

It was an effective way to stress the fact just how badly Bob had screwed up, but I admit that
the sudden tears fogging up my view and streaming over my cheeks and chin had not been
 planned, not at all, even, and I confusedly – and roughly – started wiping them of my face. It
was no use, however: the teardrops kept on coming and at one point, I had to hold tight on
every bit of pride inside me to prevent myself from actually sobbing out loud.

Why was I crying? Why the blazes was I crying? Who was I crying for? For me? For
Charlie? For the both of us?

In any case, partly unplanned or not, my strategic, yet desperate move worked, since Bob
stammered something, out of the blue.

“There - there might be something you can do. Might.” He exhaled and the air came out of
him shakily. “I – I will look into it. Alright?”

I was still not ready to talk to him without having to lose the last bits of my dignity, so I
simply nodded, making sure my smile never weakened, not even for a single fleeting
moment. Then I raised my hand and made a few rapid, urgent swatting gestures into his
direction, like I tried to shoo away a nasty little fly. I didn’t want to spend another minute in
Bob’s bothersome presence any longer. Right now, he was no longer of any use to me.

Bob, however, was slow, and still too perplexed about everything – but my patience had run
thin. He had to go. Now. The Angel therefore was forcibly removed from Charlie’s bedroom,
as my black vines harshly picked his sorry person off the chair and literally hurled him out of
the chamber, crashing him into Razzle and Dazzle, who were still waiting for Bob on the
other side of the door.

After that, I let the tentacle arms shut the door and lock it. Then, I leaned back into the
pillows, stared at the ceiling, as I often did, and waited until sleep would finally take hold of
me.

Sadly enough, I would stay awake for yet another hour – but at least the pathetic teardrops
had stopped by then.

Chapter End Notes

Icarus and his father, Daedalus, need to flee from the island of Crete: although the
brilliant architect Daedalus had constructed an impressive maze for King Minos, he had
also indirectly helped the hero Theseus with slaying the monstrous Minotaur - and the
King was not happy with that (the monster was also kind of his stepson, after all…). So
Daedalus constructs two pair of wings, made from wax and feathers. After testing the
wings first and before flying off for real, Daedalus warns his son to not fly too high
(because of the dangers of the sun) or too low (because of the dangers of the sea). Icarus
is instructed to follow his father’s path of flight and then everything should probably be
fine. They then take flight... but soon, Icarus gets too cocky and starts flying higher and
higher, closer to the sun, which melts the wax off his makeshift feathers. When all of the
wax is gone, Icarus keeps helplessly clapping his now bare arms, but, of course, to no
avail – and he plummets to his death as he falls into sea and drowns.

This well-known myth about hubris (overconfidence) can be alluded to old, Greek poets
of yesteryear, but the Roman poet Ovid (43 BC – 17 or 18 AC) was the one that
probably made the story famous in his “Metamorphoses”, a series of literature that is
considered to be one of the world’s most important sources of classical mythology.
 The Mouth of Truth
Chapter Summary

After a visit of Dr. Hubermann, Charlie finds out Alastor is cursed.

Chapter Notes

The lovely Chisena made a very sweet drawing for me, depicting both Al and Bob in a
'loving' embrace. XDDDDD It's great. Not to mention freaking hilarious!
The just as wonderful Danie made an artsy drawing of the scene of chapter 5!^^ Look it
up here!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

As I had both feared and expected, Alastor’s fever didn’t go down in the next few days. On
the contrary – it seemed like his fever was going up, worryingly so, like he was literally
burning up.

He had also become a lot quieter and less expressive, his usually big and toothy grin now
nothing more but a small, faint smile that cost him every bit of his strength and energy to
make it stick on his face… and it looked like it hurt, forcing a smile like that. It was really
unsettling to see Al like this – so frail and weak and silent – and so, when I woke up on a
Wednesday and saw Alastor’s condition had only worsened, I decided that enough was
enough and called in the Royal Doctors.

Or… Royal Doctor, singular.

Both Dr. Jos and Dr. Rocinante politely yet resolutely refused to pay a visit to “that ungrateful
tentacle bastard”, and while I was sure Mother would have her ways to easily ‘persuade’
them into coming to the hotel anyway, I simply didn’t want to turn to her this time. Instead, I
mentally prepared myself to beg Dr. Hubermann to please come this way – but although she
wasn’t exactly stoked about having to come to the hotel either, she was willing to come. In
fact, it didn’t even take me that long to convince her, to be honest.

Heh. Looks like there was a reason why Dr. Hubermann was my favorite of the three Royal
Doctors!

It was a pretty fortunate turn of events, as Al later told me – after I had informed him about
all of this – that he actually “disliked Dr. Hubermann the least” out of my three well-
educated doctors. He therefore wouldn’t mind it “too much”, letting her examine him.
Uhm. Hooray, I think…?

The doctor arrived, requested me to leave Al and her alone for a couple of minutes and she
thoroughly examined (a very chagrined, but at least cooperative) Alastor. Much to my
disappointment, she told me she couldn’t really discover anything out of the ordinary, after I
had come back into the room. She said he didn’t have a cold or any other kind of known
sickness, he just had a high fever. That was it.

That was it? Really? I couldn’t believe that. I wasn’t an expert, not at all, but I at the very
least knew that a high fever most of the time meant that the body was busy fighting off some
kind of illness that had found its way inside. And maybe most sicknesses, diseases and
illnesses didn’t exist in Hell, but it was clear as day something was going on with Alastor that
just wasn’t right.

Dr. Hubermann, a proud and cranky demoness, snorted at that, ignored my stammers and
protests and prescribed some medicines that would help reducing Al’s fever. When she was
done and had packed her belongings, she curtly demanded me to come see her out – that was
the least I could do as a thank-you for all of her effort, she claimed – and I was too
flabbergasted by the weirdness of it all to refuse her.

At the entrance hall’s door, she bluntly told me that Alastor most likely was cursed.

“A-Alastor's cursed?” I stared at her, puzzled. “Why tell me now – why didn’t you tell me
back there, in Al’s presence?”

“Ha! Over the past couple of decades, I’ve learned when and especially when not to speak
up!” Dr. Hubermann narrowed her already small, pig-like eyes at me. “Didn’t you see how
relieved he suddenly acted, when I told you I couldn’t find anything? A rather strange
response from somebody who’s suffering from a mysterious high fever, wouldn’t you agree?
He already knows he’s cursed, Princess – and moreover, he doesn’t want you to find out.”

My heart, that suddenly felt like it weighed 100 kilograms, stopped for a moment, or so it
seemed. “What?”

The doctor frowned. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised. Your ‘sweetheart’ has fought
against an Angel and won. He had five pieces of Heavenly weaponry thrust into his back and
lived to tell, and he survived almost bleeding out. Seeing he now has some kind of curse
trapped inside of him - well, it doesn’t even mildly surprise me anymore. I bet the guy could
lose his friggin’ head and still continue to see the sun come up the next day.”

“This curse,” I hastily said, “how – how bad of a curse is it?”

Finally, some of Dr. Hubermann’s condescending mannerisms disappeared. “Not too bad.
He’ll live, no problem.”

The huge, heavy burden I felt before dropped from my chest and I exhaled slowly. “Y-yeah?
You know of it? Have you seen something like it before?”

“I suppose.”
“You suppose?”

She sighed, as if this conversation was tiring her out. “Look, I know not much about curses –
it’s not like I come across a lot of cursed people down here in Hell – but I do know that this
curse your manipulative Radio Boyfriend has is nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. Nope.
Also, if it’s any consolation: I noticed his fever had gone down a little when I checked it one
last time back then.”

“Ah.” I reached for my hair and grasped it tightly, lost in thoughts. “That’s… that’s good, I
think.”

The doctor tried a smile. “Come on, Princess. Cheer up! Like I said, it’s absolutely nothing to
worry yourself about.”

I shot a questioning, almost angry look at her. “But you just said Al’s always caught up in
bizarre and otherwise lethal circumstances. And this curse – I know you said it’s nothing too
awful, but… w-well… are you really, really sure it’s nothing serious?”

She hesitated and pursed her lips together tightly – but then the doctor just shrugged, putting
on her coat in a swift movement. “He’ll survive, Princess Charlotte. That’s all you need to
know. He always survives, doesn’t he? So why wouldn’t he survive this one little curse as
well?”

I was too speechless to say anything in response and so, a little while later, Dr. Hubermann –
my so-called, favorite Royal Doctor – just… left, without even saying as much as goodbye.
Or maybe she did say goodbye; I didn’t really remember anymore. I was too busy wondering
what to do, what to think and how to face Alastor, now that I knew he apparently had been
cursed and had kept it hidden from me.

Should I tell him?

Should I not say anything at all?

Which one?

CcC

“I’m back,” I heard myself say in a weird, shaky voice, as I reentered the bedroom both
Alastor and I shared.

Al, who had been flipping pages of Vaggie’s old Donald Duck-comics (I guess Vaggie didn’t
want them anymore), looked up with a – weak, but as always still persistent – smile, putting
the magazine away as soon as he saw me.

“Welcome back, my love. My, you were gone for almost half an hour! Was it such an
emotional goodbye?”
I laughed, a tad too hysterical. “Yeah! I know! Uhm… Sorry it took me so long. You know
doctors! Always so talkative, ha ha!”

Alastor gave me an odd look. “Dr. Hubermann isn’t talkative at all.”

“Oh, really? I-I never noticed.” I stupidly lingered around near the door for a few seconds,
before making my way to the bed and sitting down on the chair next to it. “So… so how have
you been, in the time I’ve been away?”

“I believe my fever has gone down a bit,” he said. “Want to check it for yourself?”

I just… nodded, because what else was I supposed to do in response, and then I reached out a
hand for his forehead.

“She told you, didn’t she,” Alastor stated, before my hand could touch his skin.

Alarmed (but instantly incredibly relieved as well, since I now didn’t have to pick a choice
anymore), I froze up and looked at him. Alastor looked back, straight in my eyes, his brown-
and-red eyes studying mine carefully, as if they wanted to suck up every piece of useful
information that I knew and had painstakingly stashed away in the back of my mind.

Eventually, I wiped his hair away from his forehead and put my hand on it anyway.

“She told me, yes.”

He felt less hot, I had to admit.

Al closed his eyes and hummed. “Ah, well. So you found out. What did she tell you, my
dear?”

“That you’re cursed.”

“Hm-hm.”

“And that – that you already knew you’re cursed.” I bit on the insides of my cheeks. I
couldn’t help sounding upset.

Alastor remained calm. “I did, yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? And why didn’t you want me to know about it?”

“My darling princess, don’t you have more than enough things to worry your beautiful
blonde head about already?” Al sat up a bit more and plucked my hand off his forehead,
pressing a kiss on top of it and taking a gentle hold of it with his own. “I didn’t want you to
worry about me. Not more than necessary, in any case, and not if there was a possibility my
illness could distress you even more. I was going to tell you eventually, but… not before I
knew about the… severity of my situation.”

I huffed, still feeling disgruntled about all of this, and looked away. However, I didn’t pull
my hand away.
“Well, then I guess you’re relieved it’s not too bad, right?”

“Did the doctor tell you that?”

I blinked and looked back at him. Alastor gave me a fright by suddenly leaning towards me
and giving me an urgent look with both of his mismatched eyes spread wide open.

“Did the doctor tell you it wasn’t too bad of a curse? Was that what she said? Well, Charlie?”

“Yes,” I said, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing him back a bit. “Yes, she told me
that it was okay and that you would live – calm down, Al! You might pop a vein!”

He allowed me to push him back, relaxed into his pillow-collection and let out a deep,
resigned sigh.

I stared at his relief, confused. Then realization struck me.

“What – wait a minute, you didn’t know?”

Alastor smiled broadly at me, but in a way that could be interpreted in different ways –
mostly none too positive ways.

“Well! In case you’ve forgotten, my love, she told you the curse wasn’t too bad, but she never
told me! She only told me it was nothing but a high fever, remember?”

“Oh,” I said, indeed recalling Dr. Hubermann never did tell him he didn’t have to worry
about the intensity of the curse. “Now that you mention it…”

“So she knew that I was cursed, she knew that I hadn’t told you, and she then decided to tell
you that my curse isn’t all that bad, so that I could only figure out my illness isn’t deadly by
having you tell me that. What a cruel, yet effective stunt your doctor pulled off, exposing me
like that!” Al smirked, and now his smile was a lot more upbeat. “It’s decided! I like her –
and I like her style. A lot. Can’t Dr. Hubermann become my therapist?”

I sighed, for once not feeling the need to laugh with him. “No. Vaggie is your therapist
already. At least, she will be, once she… has accepted that fact.”

(I could still vividly remember that hollow, thousand-yard-stare in Vaggie’s eye when it was
decided she was going to be Al’s counselor. Reassuring her that it wasn’t for redemption-
purposes, but just for him to have someone to talk or vent to every once in a while didn’t
exactly excite her either, so to speak.)

Alastor clearly gloated over Vaggie's misfortune. “Perhaps you should offer Vaggie guidance
on how to offer me guidance. Ha!”

I glared at him and groaned. I had enough of his attitude.

“Will you stop that, Alastor? You may think everything’s fine now that the cat’s out of the bag
and your curse (apparently) isn’t all that bad, but I’m – I’m still disappointed in you! Maybe I
should – I should just go.”
I wanted to yank my hand free from his and get off my chair, but he tightened his hold around
my wrist almost immediately – and simply pulled me back down on my chair. It wasn’t
painful, but it was insistent.

“You never call me ‘Alastor’ like that,” he muttered. “I’d rather have you call me anything
else but Alastor, if you’re going to speak out my name like that.”

“Fine – you lied to me, you selfish jerk,” I growled. “How’s that!”

“A little bit better. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!”

He let out a soft laugh. “Well, aren’t you adorable! Even while mad, you still try to be nice.
You’re so kind.”

“Shuddup, liar!” I blubbered. “Ican’thelpid!”

“Charlie – I didn’t lie to you. I simply didn’t want to tell you – and I told you that.” Alastor
kept a firm grip around my hand, but his thumb rubbed comforting circles on the back of it.
“I told you a few nights ago: that my problem wasn’t something I wanted to bother you with.
Do you recall that night? You then proceeded to babble on and on until I fell asleep, just
because you wanted to do something nice for me – just because you wanted to help me out
anyway.”

I sniffed, harshly wiping the tears from my face.

“And you did help me out – please dear, don’t scrub your skin like that. Here, allow me.”
Alastor let go of my hand, took a cautious hold of my face instead and turned it his way.
“You always help me out, my precious princess, even when you’re not aware of it. I thank
you for that. I appreciate it, more than you can imagine.”

I glared at him, very intensely, even – but I didn’t struggle and I didn’t protest when he
materialized a handkerchief out of thin air and started to wipe the tears from my eyes. He
touched my wet cheeks with care – and it felt good, Gradually, I calmed myself down a little,
even though I was still pissed at him. Then my eyes happened to catch sight of his weary
expression, his pale skin, his unhealthy-red face and… his hand.

The hand with the strange cross on it. The hand that all of a sudden started acting up a few
weeks ago.

“It’s your hand, isn’t it,” I said, softly. “That’s where you got cursed. What got you sick.”

Alastor’s hands and handkerchief halted in their movements for a brief moment. He stared at
me, both impressed as well as amazed, and then he granted me an affectionate, genuine, tiny
smile – the kind of smile you wanted to put in a little box and put away, so that you could
take a look at it later and feel all warm and tingly from the inside.

Because I had stopped my crying just as sudden as I had started it, Alastor put away the cloth
after a few final brushes and scooted a bit to the side, pulling part of the covers away and
patting on the mattress.

“Come here for a moment, my love.”

I felt my stupid, love-struck heart jump a little.

“Is… is that a good idea, Al? In the state you’re in?”

He glanced at me curiously, at first blissfully impervious for my somewhat, slightly

suggestive question that pretty much every other man in his place would have understood
right away. But then, when I simply looked at him and waited, it began to dawn on him what
I was trying to say – and he hastily shook his head. His flustered face even grew a few shades
redder than it already was.

“No, I’m not – I’m not asking you to – I simply want to explain something. I’m not going to
– assault you or anything. That’s preposterous!”

Finally, I snorted. Catching him off guard like this, when he was being very serious and
didn’t think about sex at all, was always a treat. Normally, I’d have felt a bit mean about
teasing him like this, but for this time, yeah – I was allowed to be a bit mean to him.

However, I had to admit I had forgotten most of my anger already when I got up and took his
beckoning hand, letting him pull me into bed with him.

CcC

I turned Al’s scarred hand and had a good, long look at the silvery cross on the back of it. At
first glance, it wasn’t anything too special – it didn’t even really stand out all that much,
because of his hand’s blackened skin. But when I squeezed my eyes and gazed at it for a bit
longer, I saw the red, irritated sides of the cross. The skin of his hand had swollen as well and
it felt hot to the touch, like that one time I had accidentally almost crushed his hand with my
bedroom door.

I made a worried face and gave Al a side-glance. “Does it… hurt a lot?”

“It’s not a very pleasant feeling, no,” he said with a weak smile.

“You got this scar from that time you fought with the Angel Hakim, right?” I wanted to
know.

Alastor didn’t answer right away – and that moment of hesitance was enough to make me
frown.

“Al. Just tell me already.”

“He – gave it to me, yes,” Alastor admitted, nodding. “The Angel did. He took my hand and
put a spell on me. Well, maybe ‘put a spell on me’ is too nicely put… he cursed me, Charlie.”
“Why did he…” I paused, putting a finger on the mark and tracing it slowly. I found myself
thinking that I had seen a similar scar years and years ago… but where? What was this weird
feeling of nostalgia I felt washing over me?

“It was an act of revenge, I believe.” Alastor said out loud what I had been thinking. He
talked solemnly, taking his time. “As you already know, I had been rather violent with
Hakim, during our little… tête-à-tête. When he saw his chance, he put this curse on me – and
that was that. I have to say that I underestimated him – greatly, if I may add. Why, he got
more guts than I had expected, to be honest! He cursed me when I least expected it!”

I started rubbing the back of his hand – gently, testing. Al grimaced at that, but didn’t tell me
to stop.

“What… what does it do, except for hurting you and giving you a fever?”

Alastor watched me touch his hand for a moment. I could see he appreciated the interest I
showed in his scar – and he was also pleasantly surprised to hear the knowledge I already
possessed concerning his wound. Still, it took him a while before he in- and exhaled
deeply… and finally spoke up.

“I believe Hakim called it the Mark of the Fallen.”

He had barely spoken the words or an image of long, long ago flashed through my mind.
That one time during the Summer, when I was still a toddler. I was looking for my dad, since
he was going to take me to the Royal Swimming Pool that day – and then I accidentally
walked in on my father changing into his bright red, glittery swimming trunks. There was this
weird, silvery, cross-shaped scar on one of his butt-cheeks. When I asked him about it later –
as we floated around in the pool – he, for the very first time, told me the story about how he
was abandoned from Heaven. And about how Uncle Mike had apparently planted the mark
on his butt as he was literally kicked out of Paradise.

“Dad has this mark as well!” I therefore told Al, looking up at him. “He has the same curse –
it prevents you from ever entering Heaven, right?”

Alastor gave me a nod. “That’s what the Angel said, yes.”

I chuckled. “What a stupid thing to do. No, scratch that – in a way, it was even a nice thing to
do!”

He tilted his head. “A nice thing to do? Really now?”

“Yeah!” I beamed a big, happy smile at Al and took his hand in both of mine, hugging it.
“Although I already had given up on redeeming you, I now actually have a good explanation
for that, too: you’re no longer able to enter Heaven anyway! So you can just stay here in Hell
– with me!”

“I – suppose so?”
“And the most amazing thing is: I don’t even have to feel guilty about it anymore! About
you, not being able to go to Heaven, I mean.” I dropped his hand, since I felt like just
hugging his hand wasn’t good enough for me anymore, and I climbed onto his lap, plopped
myself down (making him utter “oof” in surprise), throwing my arms around him and
squishing my grinning face flat against his chest. “This might be the best curse ever!”

Alastor laughed at that, but it sounded less delighted than I had thought it would sound.
Which probably was normal. I mean, the whole scarred-hand-thing probably wasn’t a nice
experience for him and he did still have a fever and a throbbing wound that bothered him. It
would get better, like the doctor had said, but – yeah, maybe I should tone my happiness
down a little.

A bit embarrassed, I slowly removed my face from his feverish body, clearing my throat. “S-
sorry – I kind of overreacted. Your scar – it must hurt you a lot. But… knowing that you will
have to stay here in Hell for the rest of eternity… it – it does make me feel happy. And… less
lonely.”

“You…” Alastor gave me a look I couldn’t place. “You felt guilty about not being able to
redeem me? Even though I told you so many times it wasn’t something you could
accomplish? Especially not you, even?”

My cheeks heated up. “It’s… because of my ultimate goal, Al! The reason why I decided to
run a redemption hotel in the first place. Getting all of my tenants into Heaven, one way or
another… that was my purpose. That goal would have made me… well…”

“...happiest?”

His strangely sad-sounding voice startled me and I hastily shook both my head as well as my
hands at him.

“That – that was then! This is now! And I’ve been at peace with you refusing to leave my
side for a while now, Al. It’s just – knowing that you definitely can’t leave Hell, because of
your curse and not per se because of your personality or misdeeds, or… or because of, say,
my failure to get you there – it puts my mind at ease. I – I don’t know if that makes any
sense, ha ha… b-but it’s like that, Al.”

“You did nothing wrong.” Alastor’s hands slipped behind me and I felt one hand sneaking
downwards, over my clothes, until it rested on the small of my back, while his other hand
crept up, kindly cradling the back of my head. “And you’re not a failure. You are my
beautiful, overwhelmingly darling angel – the flame of my soul and the love of my life.”

At first, I looked at him in flabbergasted silence, putting my hands on his shoulders with care
– as if I was scared I might break something if I did it too sudden or harshly. My eyes got
watery and my nails, although I tried to stay composed, began to dig themselves into his
skin.

“I-I’m the love of your life?”

His hand lowered itself until I felt it ghost lovingly in my neck. “You are, my princess.”
 My nose started dripping – oh my god – and I rapidly pulled back a hand to wipe it.

“Nobody – nobody ever has called me the actual love of their life before. Probably because
nobody ever lived as long as I have, I-I think… maybe it’s – it’s scary to say that to
somebody who’s as old as I am… and… I-I don’t know if I even have the right to say – to say
that back to yo—”

“Before you go and talk yourself down in the gutters again,” Alastor brusquely cut me off,
“I’m not expecting you to tell me I’m also the love of your life (well not yet, in any case). I
just want you to know that you are the only woman I have ever met that managed to
mesmerize my heart in the best way possible – and the only woman that made this arrogant,
self-righteous man feel whole. You made me experience emotions I had never even heard of
before, not even when I was still a living and breathing criminal, hacking and slashing away
to shoo away my boredom and my frustrations in life.”

I inaudibly blubbered some more, watching him with affection, feeling my whole body glow
up from the compliments and lovingly spoken words that kept falling from his mouth.

“You made me more human,” Al said, “than I ever was while being alive. So don’t you ever
even suggest you have failed, Charlie. That kind of nonsense doesn’t suit the woman I love
and wish to spend the rest of my – no, her life with.”

“A-Al…” I stuttered.

“Now finish up cleaning your gorgeous face so I can decently kiss you.”

I snorted. “Oh, o-okay then… w-wait a minute…”

He chuckled and patiently waited until I was finished wiping the tears and snot off my face.
When I thought it was… good enough, I bashfully looked up again. Al wasted no time, gave
my neck a soft pull and secured a first, resounding kiss on my lips. I shuddered and my hand
dropped on the mattress – where it was instantly taken by Al’s other hand. It pushed open the
openings in-between my fingers and slid his own, long, pointy ones within them, clasping my
hand warmly.

He gave me more kisses, deeper ones, persistent ones that invaded my mouth and flooded my
senses. All I could do was answer them, melt with him, press myself to his body and grasp
his hand so fixedly it hurt wonderfully.

“How many kisses do you need,” he breathed against my mouth, “tell me how many more
kisses you need – before you can see yourself the way I see you?”

I didn’t know how or what to answer him, since my body and mind had turned as hot and
needy as his own, as I hold on to him and gasped breathlessly in-between the sultry kisses he
kept coddling me with – and I also didn’t even attempt to stop him when he undid the buttons
of my shirt and urgently told me to please take off my pants.

Chapter End Notes

“La Bocca della Verità” is a rather famous sculptured mask of a human head. It stands
against the wall of the Basilica of Saint Mary in Cosmedin (Rome, Italy) and it’s a piece
of art that has attracted many, many visitors that like to stick their hands into the mouth
of the marble mask. Nobody really knows what the original purpose of this thing was,
but it most likely depicts the face of the sea titan god Oceanus. People have noted that
the eyes, nostrils and mouth-parts of the mask are open, for some reason.
Whatever the original point of the plate was, people nowadays believe that if you stick
your fingers into the Mouth of Truth and tell a lie, the mask will bite your dirty, lying
fingers clean off! This legend probably originates from the 1953 movie “Roman
Holiday”, where the main characters aren’t being truthful to one another and the mask is
used as a storytelling device… but I mostly know about it because of a children’s book I
read when I was young, called “Het geheim van de afgebeten vingers” (“The Secret of
the Fingers That Were Bitten Off”). In that story, a couple of kids start losing their
fingers after putting them into the Mouth of Truth and telling a lie. Did the statue
actually bite them off (spoiler: in the end, it wasn’t the statue that removed the fingers –
no, it was the skeleton of a deceased princess with a scythe that hid itself behind the
mask in search for bones, of course! Naturally!)?
It’s just a story though. Probably. Most likely. But in case you want to try it out for
yourself: you can always make a trip to Rome, put your hand into Oceanus’ mouth and
tell a little white lie. Wat could possibly go wrong?
 Sleeping Beauty
Chapter Summary

Alastor feels a lot better, so he and Charlie share a passionate night together.

Chapter Notes

I was blessed again by yet another wonderful piece of fanart! 8DDDD Look at this great
work of art Avo made of "The Library, or The Discovery of Heaven"! Aaaah! <3 <3 <3 I
love it so much!^^

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Personally, I thought it was very unethical to have sex with a sick person.

You… didn’t know for sure if the sick person wanted to share the bed with you, after all.
Maybe it was their sickness talking. Maybe it was their fever, messing up their real thoughts
and feelings about the prospect of making love with somebody. Maybe it could even be
dangerous for the person that was sick: they already were in a weakened state, both
physically as well as mentally, so why try to make things even worse by screwing them?

Still, I – I kind of liked the taboo that came with it.

You weren’t supposed to sleep with somebody that was sick, that was just wrong, and not
good, and forbidden, and god if I didn’t get turned on like crazy by things like that. It kind of
made the whole experience even more sensual, more erotic, for some reason, if you knew you
were doing something you actually were not supposed to do. It – it kind of was like having
sex with your lover in your parents’ bed, or getting nailed in a public area with many people
around, so that you constantly had to be on guard they didn’t accidentally see you or hear you
muffle your screams…

I knew exacty just how wrong these kinds of situations and circumstances were or could turn
out to be – and yet, it still made my blood boil in anticipation.

So when a very feverish, very sickish Al roughly threw me down on the bed and almost
literally ripped my pants off of me, I was more than happy to just let it happen, in spite of my
awkwardly spoken words of hesitance.

After all, words of hesitance aren’t all that convincing anymore when your tone of voice is
wheezy and dripping with desire and sheer, desperate need.
“We – we shouldn’t,” I nevertheless panted, while Alastor slowly pushed up my bra, not even
removing it – and I gasped and instinctively gave in to his touch as he enclosed a hand
around one of my breasts, lowered his head and moved his hot tongue over its sensitive
nipple. I moaned some more when he used his knee to force my legs open and I arched my
back in surprise when the licking changed into some slightly more aggressive sucking.

The way I felt his mouth engulf my breast, the way his other hand now started pleasuring my
other, neglected nipple, the way he pressed his lower, still clothed body against mine – it all
just felt so right.

However, he was watching my every move carefully – I felt he was. And even though he
knew very well when my no’s were actual no’s and when my no’s were silently encouraging
him to please, for the freaking love of all that was good and holy, go on – he still checked my
responses, just to make sure he really, really wasn’t doing anything I didn’t like.

Realizing that made me feel so dirty.

And not in a good way.

I – I just wasn’t playing fair.

I wouldn’t stop Al from having irresponsible sex with me, not even when the blood in his
body was so extremely hot it started to feel almost unbearably uncomfortable against my skin.
Because I… just wanted to have him inside of me too much – just longed to have him pound
me raw and senseless too much, even if it would eventually hurt him in some way – and I
hated that part about myself, I hated it, I hated it, I hated it.

Fighting back helpless tears, I let out a whine when he began placing butterfly kisses to my
chest. Oh god, I wanted him to just take off his stupid PJ’s and take me already – I was more
than ready for it, I couldn’t spread my legs any wider, all he had to do was to take it out and
give it to me until I saw stars and couldn’t walk straight anymore and feel terrible about it
afterwards.

But none of that happened, as Alastor suddenly passed out. Again.

With his face in-between my boobs.

Just like that.

I didn’t even realize for a while, until I felt the heat on my chest was starting to actually burn
me – and when I glanced down to see what the heck he was even doing there… well, I knew
enough.

I blinked and didn’t say a word, letting my heartbeat and ragged way of breathing calm
down. Then, before I could stop myself, I sneaked a hand into his pants, just to check if my
lingering suspicions were right.

They were.

He wasn’t even hard.

All this time – he hadn’t even been hard.

He would have done me either way, one way or another, just for me, even when his fever was
high enough to knock out an elephant… but I bet he barely even knew what he was doing in
the first place.

And yet – he still tried to make sure it in any case wasn’t anything I didn’t want.

What a moron.

I sniffled and wiggled around a little, until I could put my arms and legs around him and hug
him, kissing the top of his head.

“I-I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He mumbled something against my skin – a sign he had recovered his consciousness – and
when he placed his trembling hands on the sides of my waist and pushed me back a bit, I
released him.

“Oh Al,” I stammered, as he flipped on his back and breathed in and out heavily, “S-sorry. I
should have made you stop. For your sake. B-but I didn’t.”

“Why are you apologizing?” He looked over at me, having a confused expression on his still
so very red face. “Not to be rude, my love, but the last time I checked, it was me who was
pushing you down. Me who was adamant on claiming you. Even though I knew I… probably
shouldn’t have tried to seduce you, judging on the state that I’m in. And yet, I still did.”

I pursed my lips together and stared at him, my eyes still quivering with unshed tears.

“I almost used you. And you would’ve let me.”

Alastor seemed alarmed by this statement and moved closer to me, softly caressing my face. I
could tell he was looking for something to say, but no words apparently came to mind and he
ended up not saying anything. His smile was comforting, though – very comforting. It put me
at ease, even if it was just a little bit.

“Please don’t allow me to use you.” I gripped the front of his nightwear and pressed my face
against it. “I know you mean well – I know, but – but please tell me when I’m about to cross a
line. When I’m about to let you do something… I shouldn’t let you do.”

Al laughed a little, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tightly. I sobbed a bit, and
in reply, he kissed my forehead and nuzzled my face afterwards. “Alright then – stop crying,
my sweet love, I’m not even angry with you. You didn’t hurt me. Not in the least. Also, I
think you might be overreacting: I have nothing against being ‘used’ by you every once in a
while, to be honest. But, if it soothes you, I promise you I’ll keep it in mind, for complex
situations like these.”

“I’m…” I started – then choked up. I really didn’t know if I was ready to tell him… what I
was about to tell him.
“Hmm?” he hummed, now pressing his forehead to mine. “Something on your mind, dear?”

I wanted to continue my sentence, I wanted to tell him something I probably should have told
him sooner, maybe even before we got into a relationship – before we had sex for the first
time.

But I didn’t say that specific something.

“No… f-forget it, Al.” I sighed.

He didn’t buy it – I was a terrible liar, after all. But he didn’t push and he didn’t pry, either.
Instead, he simply kissed me.

“Perhaps… tell me later?” he asked afterwards.

I smiled feebly and kissed him back when he placed his lips onto mine once more.

“Mmwaybe.”

CcC

Over the next week, Alastor gradually felt better.

Thanks to Doctor Hubermann’s medicines, his fever went down, his skin got its usual, gray
hue back and it was getting harder and harder for me to keep him in bed. Since he still was an
atrocious sleeper, I wanted him to take this opportunity to catch up on some well-needed
sleep – and even though he admitted that this indeed would be the perfect chance for him to
rest up in like a hundred years, I often caught him wandering around the hotel anyway, like a
total douchebag.

He didn’t even have the decency to look guilty or run away whenever I caught him being out
of bed again – nope, he’d just directly come over to me, charmingly kiss my hand and tell me
how lovely I looked, with those half-lidded eyes of his – and if I then grumpily (and blushing
heavily, since his flirting game had been getting better) dragged him back to the bedroom
again, he’d just happily let me, laughing out loud, not having a care in the world.

I understood why he constantly did this, though: he was getting bored, and a bored Al could
either be crazily annoying or crazily dangerous – so instead of nagging at him, I just counted
my blessings and played along with this weird little game of hide-and-seek. I mean, as long
as he was willingly letting himself get put into bed time after time, I would willingly put up
with looking for him and getting him back underneath the covers. It was a silent agreement
we had with one another.

Alastor could be persuaded to stay in bed, though: during break time, he never left his bed at
all, since he and I would then read our books together. It would be quiet in the bedroom – just
me and him, holding hands and reading books. It still baffled me how easily this extremely
extraverted man could shut up, as long as you gave him something to read. He also promised
me to behave at night… as long as I slept in the same bed as him. I had tried to sleep apart
from him for a couple of days in the beginning phase of his sickness, until multiple hotel
tenants had come to me with dark circles underneath their eyes, begging me to please do
something about Alastor’s sudden late-night radio broadcasts and his invisible audience,
making enough racket to even wake Husk up from his drunken dreams.

So… no, it wasn’t easy to take care of a man as unpredictable and rampant as Al was – and
you could imagine my (and the rest of the hotel’s inhabitants’) intense relieve when, finally,
his fever had gone down to a healthy, normal temperature.

CcC

It was at nighttime, after I had already put on my nightgown and plucked the thermometer
out of his mouth for what proved to be the last time.

“99.2°F.” I looked up from the instrument to beam a smile at Alastor. “Looks like your
fever’s gone, Al! You’re all better now! Um, I think.”

“You think?” he repeated, his hands neatly folded on top of the sheets, looking very well-
mannered and not at all like the freaking troll that had been sneaking out of bed at least
twenty times today. “What makes you hesitate about that, my love?”

I put away the thermometer and got into bed as well. “Your hand. I know it’s still hurting.”

His uneven eyes automatically wandered to his right hand, studying it. Mine did so as well.
His hand hadn’t gotten more…swollen or irritated, the both of us noticed, but it did still
hinder Al in his every day-to-day life. He was right-handed, after all… but now that his right
hand sometimes hurt too much to even do the simplest tasks, he more or less had to use his
left hand more often. Or those black… vine-things of his. He tried to hide his pain as much as
possible and his eternal smile was present as it always was, but – I knew. And he was aware
of that, so he didn’t try to cover it up around me many longer.

Well – that at least was something he no longer hid from me, I suppose… got to count my
blessings.

“Oh well,” Alastor said, as I restlessly combed my fingers through my hair, “no pain no gain,
my mother always used to say! I’m sure the pain will eventually fade away. I probably just
have to be patient.”

“Hmm,” I contemplated, before settling down and pulling up the covers of the bed.

Alastor killed the light and followed my example, and after a few rustles, he lay down as
well.

“Did your father experience some pains with his scarred skin as well?” he asked, after a short
silence.
Even the mention of my stupid father made my face crumple up in protest. “I don’t know.”

“Perhaps we should go visit him and the Queen soon,” Alastor then suggested – and although
it was dark, I managed to give him this perplexed, shocked stare anyway, straight through the
darkness of the night.

“Yeah, sure – and maybe we should also take a dip in one of the many lava pits around the
Royal Palace! That sounds like a wonderfully stupid idea as well!”

He simply ignored my sarcastic remark. “My dear, you can’t avoid them for the rest of your
life.”

I let out a disdainful snort. “Oh just you watch me.”

A chuckle – and a hand, patting the top of my head. “Now now – you always sound so
venomous when you’re talking about your parents, my love.”

“I don’t trust them.” I frowned and pulled the sheets up a bit higher. “I don’t care what you
and dad say. I’m sure… I’m sure they wanted to get rid of you. And even if that wasn’t so,
they still treat you like you’re the biggest scum Hell has to offer – and yes, sure, you are a
pretty huge scumbag—”

“I love you, too.”

Now it was my turn to ignore him, so I did.

“—but Hell is filled with sinners that are much, much worse than you are.” I paused. “With
ex-lovers that… have treated me more terrible than you ever did.”

His hand stopped patting me and instead, just rested itself on my head, gently rubbing my
scalp. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Why would you want to visit them?” I turned myself until I was lying on my side, so that I
could look directly at him. “You never cared all that much about mom and dad. Why the
change of heart all of a sudden?”

Al retracted his hand and laid on his side as well. “Two reasons.”

“Shoot.”

“Reason one is a selfish one: like I said, your dad might know what I could do about that pain
in my hand. I’d already like to talk to him just for that, if you must know.”

I nodded, appreciating his honesty. “Fair enough. And the second reason?”

“The second reason is… I think it would be good for you to have a decent talk with your
parents – no no no, don’t look away now – listen to me. And look at me. Then I know you are
listening to me,” Alastor said, swiftly grabbing my chin and raising it up again as I was
angrily turning my face downwards.
“Hello there,” he grinned, when my fiery, unwilling eyes met his.

I grumbled and attempted to push his claw-like, painful hand off my face, but Al, as always,
had an iron grip and didn’t let go.

“My darling Charlie, you’re suffering because of everything that has happened – with me,
with that Angel that came down from Heaven, with my scars and sickness,” Alastor said, not
even mildly effected by my struggling. “I realize that all too well. Your parents’ negligence
and distrust in you have made you bitter towards them – have sullied your beautiful heart.
And yes, you’re absolutely right: I don’t care about your parents, not at all even, ho ho ho –
but I do care about you.”

I finally stopped tugging on his hand and glared sharply at him, even though my treacherous
cheeks still warmed up a bit after hearing him say he cared about me. I mean, I knew, but still.
It was always nice to hear. A sweet reminder.

Now that I no longer fought against his pointy grasp, Alastor’s hold around my face loosened
up – and his voice grew friendlier, more affectionate. “I firmly believe you will feel better
once you have had a good and long talk with them, my princess. A real talk. About you and
everything that has been bothering you. Air it all out. Vent a little. Vent a lot. Clear that hurt
heart of yours, my love, and I can promise you you will feel better.”

I had obediently listened to him – but now, I couldn’t help but furrow my brow.

“Al – you know I’ve had struggles with my parents for centuries, right?”

“Yes.”

“You really believe just a few talks can fix all of that?”

Alastor wasn’t intimidated by my fierce look and smiled. “I believe it’s a start, Charlie.”

“Easy for you to say.” I huffed and closed my eyes for a bit as he thoughtlessly massaged my
cheeks – my face always was such a fascinating thing for him. “You didn’t have problems
with your parents. You wouldn’t know what it’s like.”

“I like to remind you to the fact that I do actually detest my father, for completely useless and
quite baseless reasons. He was a good father and a hard-working husband, after all. And yet, I
still hate him for stupidly dying on me and my mother before he had even turned thirty. At
least I lasted a bit longer than that.” He gave one of my cheeks a pinch. “Anyway, what I’m
trying to say is… since he’s in Heaven and I’m here, I don’t have the possibility to discuss all
of my frustrations with him. I can’t try and mend things with my old man. Ever. But you,
Charlie – you can.”

I felt a bit ashamed now and quietly thought about his words for a while. Seconds turned into
minutes, minutes turned into… well, even more minutes, but Alastor calmly let the minutes
pass by as I made up my mind.

“I – I guess we could… pay them a visit, in about a couple of days…” I murmured.

“We could,” he agreed.

“And talk about things.”

“Indeed.”

“I’m… I’m not sure…”

“Hmm?”

“What if things just get worse?” I gave Al a nervous look. “Wh-what if… what if it can’t be
repaired? What if it’s too late for us?”

“Then you, at the very least, have tried,” he reasoned. “And you won’t have to suffer from
that horrible ‘what-if’-feeling any longer. That, I think, will probably be a load off your chest
in and on itself.”

I stared at his unfazed expression. Wow, it kind of amazed me how well-informed Alastor
seemed to be on this topic. But he was right: no matter how aloof I tried to be and act about
mom and dad, I wouldn’t be honest if I claimed the problematic relationship I had with my
parents wasn’t bugging me. I had the luxury of having both of my parents nearby, while a lot
of Hell’s sinners didn’t, and maybe never would have, either. Whether they liked it or not.
Therefore, I should do my best to save… what there was left to save, between me, mom and
dad.

So, I sighed deeply, which thankfully caused the anxious throbbing in my chest to lessen a
whole lot.

“I’ll give mom a call tomorrow.”

“You can think it over,” Alastor assured me. “You don’t need to take the plunge right away, if
you need some more time.”

But I resolutely shook my head. “Nope, too late, I made up my mind now. I’ll call them
tomorrow and I hope we’ll be able to visit them as soon as possible. Better to just get it over
with, am I right?”

To that, Alastor only smiled. He seemed very satisfied, like everything had already come to a
nice and perfect conclusion. I… begged to differ, really… I doubted everything would go as
smoothly as Alastor, with all of his cunning and charm, believed… but I did hope he was
right.

I… I hoped it with all of my unsure, yet optimistic heart.

CcC

After all of that was decided, I yawned and wiggled myself in-between the sheets a bit more,
shutting my eyes. Talking and thinking about my parents had tired me out more than I had
expected, I noticed, so maybe it would be better to just have some shut-eye right now.

“You’re going to sleep?” I heard Alastor ask, right next to me.

“As you can see,” I jokingly shot back.

“We could do something else but sleep, though.”

“...h-huh?”

“Come here, Charlie.”

And with that, Al’s arms were suddenly all over me, pulling me against his warm (but not
burning) body. My hands curled into tight fists as his lips found mine and worked their magic
on them, kissing me thoroughly – way too thoroughly for just a simple good-night kiss. I
mean, at a certain point, his deep kisses grew so demanding his tongue was practically
choking me and the intensity of this sudden outburst of impatient passion made me both
woozy as well as – well – kind of excited.

Somehow though, I knew to successfully push him back a little – my hands shaking, my way
of breathing all over the place and my face hot and wet at the same time. Al was still at it,
though. Determinedly, his hands gripped my nightgown and he planted a sloppy kiss in the
nape of my neck, temporarily taking my breath away just a little bit more.

I started to gasp. “N-n-no. M-maybe we shouldn’t, Al. N-not yet. Maybe… maybe just – just
wait one more day, just to be sure.”

Alastor – also out of breath, also shaking – was so caught off guard by my half-assed, yet
urgent rejection, I could almost see the grin fall right off his face, as he stared at me with a
look that was a wild mix of genuine confusion and…

…oh my god, was that lust?

Alastor was actually aroused?

“Are you sure?” he breathed. “I – thought you would like to – after a week…”

I gulped when I felt he was casually pulling up my modest nightdress. “It’s – it’s not like I
don’t want to have sex with you… but… what if you’re… what if you get a setback?”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You think me making love to you would make a fever reappear out
of nowhere?”

“Uhm…”

“I don’t think fevers work like that, my love.” Still, he gave in and I felt his touch disappear
from my skin. “But if it puts your mind at ease, I’ll hold back. Sweet dreams, Charlie!”

There was a final chaste peck to my lips that lingered deliciously for a little while – but then
he indeed immediately held back: all of him retreated so damn rapidly, I felt a big shiver
running over my spine, my hopeless, craving body and sizzling brains wondering if this had
been the right decision after all.

CcC

NO IT HADN’T.

I was horny, dammit!

I was so horny it wasn’t even funny anymore!

What the hell was I thinking?

I had wanted to have sex, he had wanted to have sex, and yet, I had just... shoved him away,
the only person who was allowed to stick his dick, fingers and tongue into me. I shooed him
away, like a total idiot, and now here I was, all hot and bothered and too afraid to do/say
something stupid again to roll over and beg Al to please plow me into the mattress anyway,
because yes, it had been a week, and god I wanted him I wanted him I wanted him so badly
—

Maybe I had brought this upon myself.

Maybe – maybe this was how I’d unwittingly punish myself, for almost having sex with Al a
couple of days ago, when he clearly wasn’t in shape to do so: by holding off a rare, sexually
aroused Alastor that was actually taking initiative. He did that more often these days, sure,
but still – it was an uncommon occurrence.

And now I was going to miss out on it.

A fitting punishment for a being that was partly succubus – it was so fitting, I could almost
cry.

Dammit.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

CcC

Well, then there was just one option left for me, right: I’d have to masturbate.

Oh god.

It – wasn’t that big of a deal. It wasn’t like I never masturbated… I mean, sometimes, you
just have to, right? Like when you’re lying in bed, knowing that there’s a naughty wetness
trickling into your cute, innocent underwear that won’t go away… and you just have to do
something about it. Yes, you and you alone have to do something about it; your lover isn’t
able to help you out this time, since they A: can’t/don’t want to have sex, B: are asleep, or
Secret Special Option C: are actually very much up for it, but you have denied them any
access to your panties, because you are a finicky loser that doesn’t know to make up their
damn mind.

I swallowed – then I swallowed again, and waited until Al’s breathing got a steady rhythm,
twisting my legs together (and only making things worse that way, somehow) anxiously.

Too bad I had no clue what Alastor’s steady breathing sounded like, since I always dozed off
long before he did.

Okay, no problem. No problem at all. I – I just needed to wait a little bit longer. Just… just a
little longer…

I had touched myself in the presence of sleeping/unaware bedpartners before. Apparently,

pleasuring yourself like some sort of bean-flicking ninja was one of the few good things
about being a half-succubus: I could orgasm as quietly as possible. I don’t think even one of
my former partners had ever noticed me secretly bringing myself to my own climax, and if
they had been aware of that, they somehow never chose to inform me about it.

I – hadn’t masturbated in Al’s nearby presence before yet (which… actually was pretty
remarkable, considering his low sex drive), but I dared to say I could probably finger myself
all night with him snoring away right next to me and he’d still not have the faintest idea of
what I was actually doing.

Well… I guess I was about to find out now, huh?

For at least half an hour, I laid there, wiggling around and feeling very uncomfortable, and
waited for Al to fall asleep. I sneakily peeked over to his back every now and then, vaguely
wondering why he hadn’t insisted on holding me: he most of the time wanted to hold me in
his arms, since he claimed he slept better then and because I wouldn’t start to trash around
and accidentally kick him out of bed.

(That last thing had already happened once; it was pretty hilarious even: he, miraculously
enough, had been fast asleep when I had violently removed him from the bed that one time
and he had just continued sleeping on the ground, where I had found him the very next
morning.)

Oh well. Al hadn’t been keen on holding me when he had that high fever either, so he
possibly just needed some time to get used to sleeping with me in his arms again.

In any case, after thirty minutes or so, I told myself I had waited long enough, and, just to be
extra, extra careful, I – skillfully! – slithered away from Al’s still figure even further. Then,
when I was really close to the edge (no pun intended, I swear), I turned away from him,
pulled up my nightgown, put the hem in my mouth – both to keep the gown up and to keep
me from making too much noise – and hastily wormed my way out of my panties. When I
tossed them aside, I took one last glance over my shoulder, as my hand already gingerly
brushed over my lower belly.
Still no sign of any movement.

Okay then.

I turned back, breathed in deeply, closed my eyes and slowly began to press my own ring and
middle ringer inside of me, my misty thoughts already fabricating something so fantasize
abou—

The fabric of my night gown promptly fell out of my mouth and a sudden shriek was drawn
out of me at exactly the same time when I was suddenly grabbed from behind – and roughly
dragged over to Al’s side of the bed. Before I could even process what was going on, I was
constricted against a well-known chest. I smelled a familiar scent and then, I also felt a just as
familiar hand, grabbing the wrist of the hand within my legs, halting it – then removing it
altogether.

“What are you doing, Charlie?”

Alastor didn’t even sound angry or mad – just curious, really, and highly amused.

“J-Jesus, Al,” I stuttered, “I-I thought you were sleeping!”

“And I thought you weren’t being completely honest with me. Looks like at least one of us
got it right.”

He gave my neck a teasing nip. I moaned in response, not even trying to hold back my voice
– I was way too elated he was finally touching me the way I wanted him to touch me. It felt
so heavenly when his eager fingers replaced mine and disappeared in-between my thighs.

“From now on,” he muttered, as he then slowly, so very slowly began to sink multiple fingers
into my begging womanhood, lifting up one of my legs with his other hand, “I want you to be
very clear to me. Especially about your sexual needs.”

“Mhm-hm,” I replied, gasping softly upon feeling his fingers move in and out, in and out, in
and out, in a calm, almost mechanical manner. It drove me insane with wanton and need.

“I’m not a particular specialized professional when it’s about making love.” He rearranged
himself a bit differently, so that holding up my leg wouldn’t take too much effort. “I don’t
always make the right decision when it’s about these activities, if you’re not being explicitly
honest about what it is you want.”

I raised a hand to my face to try and stifle my own lewd noises, while Al rubbed his face
against the back of my shoulder and gave my sweaty and hot skin a couple of hard, yet loving
bites. He lazily lapped up the wounds’ traces of blood afterwards.

“Three times you rejected my advances, my love, of which two attempts were rightfully
denied: I was too sick, I admit it, and I’m happy you stopped me in time. However, the third
time, just now... I don’t understand why you rejected me that third time.”

“I…” I tried to say, but my words died right in my throat as Alastor pushed his fingers in so
deep I couldn’t even form words anymore. I almost bit my own hand from the crude delight it
spread inside of me.

He continued, his voice getting less smooth and more – ragged, like my own was. Ragged
and uneven, his breath against my neck warm and trembling with desire.

“That third time… this night… I felt better, you… well, you were… and still are dripping
with your thirst, all of that lovely, wonderful thirst, all for me and me alone, and yet… you
still pushed me away.”

His fingers suddenly left me – and I felt weirdly empty, quivering and gasping, my leg still
stiffly hanging up in the air. I could feel him move behind me, though – I knew he was
getting himself out of his pants, at least partly. I could also feel the big bulge he had hidden
there for so long – way too long, and I forced myself to speak – I needed to speak, I needed to
tell him.

“I – I… didn’t know if I deserved—”

“You deserved it. You deserve everything. Well – everything good, that is. Now. If that’s all
you needed to say, I will now… make you mine. Very much mine.”

Oh.

I had to laugh a bit at his awkwardly-spoken words, even if my laughter did come out in
short-winded huffs and puffs, and I clumsily arched an arm back there, over my shoulder, so
that I could – somehow – put a hand on him. It fell flat against his face, so I probably was
caressing/slapping his cheek now.

“That’s right – make me very much yours, Al. Very very.”

He huffed, slightly embarrassed. “I’m trying to be extremely sultry and brooding here,
Charlie, please don’t make things weird now.”

“Oh but I love it when you make things weird, darling.”

I didn’t care I couldn’t see his face, I felt the surprised blush blooming on his face even from
this position. He cleared his throat. “I—”

“And I also love you.” I interrupted him with a smile he could not even see, and teasingly
rubbed and grinded my lower body against his impressive erection. “Now – now make some
stupid love to me, you big— ahhn.”

It wasn’t easy for me to keep on talking when Al pushed his dick into my pulsating entrance,
so I didn’t. He held on to me firmly as he began moving, firstly ramming me senseless with
deep, slow thrusts – then alternating with shallow, quick ones.

I firstly didn’t remember if I had kept my voice down or not, things went a bit too fast and
too brutal for that. I did remember hearing Al’s lustful grunts right near my ear, feeling his
one hand clench around my sweaty upper leg, feeling his other hand send mind-blowingly
sharp sparks of pure pleasure throughout my whole receptive body as he rubbed me in time
with his thrusts, and it was ridiculously good, oh my god – it was good – it just was so good.
It wasn’t until later - not very much later but still quite a while later, when I absentmindedly
licked my wet lips and waited for (a still very hard-working) Al behind me to get to the same
peak I had reached a few moments earlier, that I realized that I - blissfully spent, twitching
contently in his fierce grip - apparently had never closed my mouth during the whole messy
process.

So my hazy thoughts came to the conclusion that, no, I hadn't kept my voice down, and as I
sensed Al was reaching his orgasm - I guessed neither would he.

CcC

After that, Alastor gave me ten minutes to catch my breath before he flipped me onto my
back, hoarsely told me to brace myself and, well, resolutely put his head in-between my legs.
My legs opened up for him – enthusiastically, automatically, without any hesitance
whatsoever, as I managed to take a deep breath and dazedly put my hands on top of his hair.
And then I felt him kiss me and tongue me down there, forcefully licking his way inside of
me, effortlessly making me scream, throw back my head and press him into me. I climaxed
again within mere minutes, hungry as I was for more and more – and I didn’t even feel
ashamed for coming undone this soon after the first orgasm.

As my chest heaved up and down rapidly and Al sat up again, I was fairly sure that that was
it, really – but no, Alastor wanted to have none of that.

He, somehow, had enough energy to make me orgasm again, gliding inside of me a couple of
minutes after I had come that second time, rewarding my surprised, yet ecstatic yelps because
of his not-unwelcome intrusion with a seething-hot kiss. He hummed approvingly when I
hooked my legs around him and hauled him in, and he took me in his arms, pressing me
down to the mattress and smothering me with sound, fond, earnest kisses, all on my gasping,
greedy mouth, over and over again.

I clung to him, overstimulated and intoxicated by his burning desire for me, for my body, for
everything that was part of me – and I tasted him, and tasted me, and tasted us, and that was
enough.

CcC

One-and-a-half weeks of no sex at all, expertly wiped clean out of my memory by this one
crazy night, filled with nothing but tingling excitement and klutzy, yet fiery passion.

I had had nights like these before, with other, former lovers – lovers that literally kept me
going for hours and hours. Three humps in a row wasn’t all that impressive when you were
horny for one another and in love. However, this was Al we were talking about. And for him,
this was a personal record.

Good for him – and good for me, too.

 So when he finally crashed down on me after that last, third round, absolutely exhausted and
sensitive all over his body, I didn’t mind he was already fast asleep before his head had even
landed my chest.

It… would have been kind of nice if he had pulled out before doing so, though.

Chapter End Notes

Seven good fairies are invited to the banquet at the palace, to celebrate the christening of
a Princess. Each of them has a gift for the little Princess (wit, beauty, grace, sang, dance
and goodness). All is well, until, right before the seventh fairy is about to gift the
Princess something, an old fairy bursts in. She wasn’t invited to the festivities – and she
is not happy about that. Her ‘gift’ for the Princess therefore is a curse: she will one day
prick her finger on a spindle and die. When she leaves, the last, seventh fairy attempts to
lessen the horrible curse: instead of dying, the girl will fall asleep for a hundred years,
only to be awakened by a kiss from a King’s son. However, the King and Queen still
aren’t too psyched about such a fate, and have all of the spindles in the Kingdom be
destroyed.
It’s no use: sixteen years pass, and the Princess eventually discovers a spindle. She
pricks her hand on the spindle and promptly falls asleep. One of the fairies enchants the
rest of the Kingdom as well, so that the Princess won’t feel lonely once she finally
wakes up… and a hundred years pass by. After all those years, a Prince spots the hidden,
now completely overgrown palace and braves the trees, the vines and the thorns as he
enters the castle. He discovers the sleeping Princess in one of the chambers her grieving
parents had put her in, and he falls deeply in love with her. He kisses her, the
enchantment comes to an end, and the Princess and Prince are later married.

This particular (and most popular) version of “Sleeping Beauty” was created by Charles
Perrault (1628-1703), a French author. There are more and less… romantic versions of
this fairy tale, like its original version by Giambattista Basile (1566-1632), in which the
Sleeping Beauty is - pretty much - raped and impregnated in her sleep by a passing
King.
 The Princess Who Never Smiled
Chapter Summary

Turns out Alastor and Charlie weren't the only ones sharing a passionate night together.

Chapter Notes

I already thought the very first artwork Avo made was insanely wonderful, but she
actually managed to make an even more beautiful piece of art of "The Library, or The
Discovery of Heaven". Just - feast your eyes on this. It's so goddamn pretty it brought
tears to my eyes! ^///////^

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Okay, now listen. Listen.

Before you start judging me, just… keep in mind that we all do some crazy and stupid things
in life, at one point (or in the afterlife – whatever floats your boat). It’s not like we really
want these things to happen to us and it’s not like we actively search for them, but
sometimes, life’s just a bitch like that, you end up in a very tricky situation and then all that’s
there left to do for you is to just accept the facts as they are and try to come to terms with the
consequences.

Even if you end up in somebody else’s bed.

The bed of somebody you really didn’t expect to end up in.

Since you’re supposed to be a proud lesbian and all that.

Oh my fucking god, what did I do?!

VvV

I already knew shit had hit the fan in the most absurd way possible when I woke up and
stared right into the pink snout of that stupid pig of his – seriously, that was the first thing I
saw in the morning – just that PIG-FACE.
If I had been a bit more like Charlie (who's adorably clueless and naive), I’d have thought
that Fat Nuggets had somehow managed to find his way into my bedroom. It wasn’t a totally
bizarre thought, to be honest; that annoying miniature swine had successfully infiltrated more
bedrooms before, like that one time it must have felt suicidal, had gone for Charlie’s bedroom
and subsequently was almost eaten by a very irritated and also hungry Alastor.

But as I grunted, harshly pushed the pig out of my face and sat up, taking in my surroundings
and realizing in horror that they didn’t look familiar to me, it didn’t take me all that long to
come to the logical conclusion that mistakes had been made the night before.

Look – I – I had felt lonely, okay? I had felt miserable and lonely.

Over the last few weeks, Charlie had been way too occupied with taking care of that sick
asshole boyfriend of hers. She was busier than ever: if she wasn’t taking care of the hotel’s
management, she was at Alastor’s side, nursing him, feeding him soup, reading books with
him and – what I had gathered from the loud yelping last night – getting fucked into oblivion
by him.

I had gotten over her – hell, I was basically forced to, Charlie and Alastor happily reminded
me they were dating and very much in love every fucking day – but that didn’t mean I was
completely immune to the sounds of her, laughing because of something he had said. Her,
smiling affectionately – at him, because of his mere presence. Her, holding on to his hand.
Her, failing to hold back her whimpers because of something he was doing to her.

I didn’t exactly feel jealousy towards Alastor anymore, but all of this reminded me of the fact
that I was single now, and as much as I tried to hide it, I… I wasn’t good at being single. Not
while I was still alive and not after I had died, either. When I woke up in Hell, Charlie had
always been there for me, almost right from the start. She maybe wasn’t the first girl I had
slept with when I came to in Hell, but she certainly was the first special one. The one I soon
considered my… my life partner. I… had actually wanted to make her feel safe and happy.

Now that she had found someone else to make her feel safe and happy – and now that even I
was convinced that this someone else was very, almost comically serious about her and her
happiness – I began to feel… overlooked. Like nobody even noticed me anymore. Like I
wasn’t really needed anymore. I mean, Alastor was helping out a lot more with the hotel
these days, that stupid, love-struck pain in the ass. Heck, he had even gotten our permission
to take over the hotel on Sundays – that’s just how big his role had become.

Still didn’t trust that smiling son of a bitch, but whatever.

Meanwhile, I was just… there. Filling up space. Snarling at others whenever they did
something I didn’t like, taking care of the things the other staff members somehow hadn’t
done already. Like an unwanted intern.

I – I was pretty sure nobody even liked me, save for Charlie.

“What’re ya even going on about, toots? Loads of peeps here like you! Even I like you!”
I cringed when I remembered his words from last night and wrapped the sheets around me a
bit tighter.

Oh god – now it all came back to me, too.

VvV

I was sitting outside, in the hotel’s backyard - I had been so exhausted, I could barely stand
up anymore. After all of my tasks had been taken care of for the rest of the evening and after
Charlie had thanked me for my hard work, she told me she was going to bed. Upon hearing
that, I, for some reason, just couldn’t handle it anymore – and fled out of the hotel, as soon as
Charlie had gone upstairs. I found an unattended, green bench made of cast iron, hidden in-
between some high, flesh-eating bushes, and just allowed myself to sit there and let it all
come out.

Then, after god-knows-how-long, the bench suddenly creaked and somebody sat down next
to me. I didn’t even have to look up to find out who it was – just seeing those insanely long
legs of his all stretched-out next to mine was enough.

“Leave me the fuck alone, you bastard,” I automatically nagged.

“Naaah, don’t feel like it,” came the unimpressed answer, “ya know, I think I’m just gonna sit
here for a little while longer. How about that?”

“Great. Whatever.” I pulled up my knees and pressed my face into them. “See if I fucking
care.”

“Uh-huh. By the way, Vags, just how long are ya plannin' to sit here and weep yer face off?”

“Six hundred years and three months.”

He snickered. “Well ain’t that specific.”

“Piss off already!” I all of a sudden looked up from my knees and gave him the angriest look
I had in my arsenal, gritting my teeth and glaring daggers at him. “Can’t you see I’m not in
the mood for your stupid pranks and antics? Don’t the snot and the tears tip you off? Those
are not some fucking decoration choices I made, you ass! I’m tired! I’m sad! I’m—!”

“Lonely?” he finished.

My lips quivered and I nodded, looking away. I didn’t want anybody to see me cry. Not him,
not Charlie, not anybody. There was a reason why I had decided to sit outside, dammit!

“Oh sure, but… you could’ve gone to yer own room, ya know.” He sighed. “Kinda dumb
move to cry here, all out in the open. What if some nasty sinners catch you? Ya know how
mean those dicks can be, especially when they’re from outside the hotel.”

I gripped my legs. “There are bushes covering—”

“Those bushes ain’t coverin' shit and ya know it, toots.”

“You damn – you know what, fine! Okay! I’ll just go back inside then!”

“Whoa, whoa! Calm the hell down already, woman!”

He snatched my hand when I stood up and wanted to pull me back down. I recoiled, hissed in
response and jerked myself free out of his grasp.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!”

“Alright, alright, for fuck’s sake!” He gave me a chagrined look and held up his hands. “I’m
not touching you, alright? See? I can’t touch you when my hands are in the air like this – and
nowadays I only got two of them anyways, so sit yer bitchy ass down and relax a little!”

I didn’t sit down right away. But I didn’t leave, either.

In the end, since he didn’t make any snarky comments about my unstable mood, I hesitantly
sat down on the bench again and – slowly, and very softly at first – started talking about my
frustrations. Mostly about the loneliness, really, and about how I felt that nobody in the hotel
actually liked me anyway. How obvious that had become to me, now that Charlie had Alastor
to keep her warm at night.

He laughed out loud, like I had told him a perfect joke. “What’re ya even going on about,
toots? Loads of peeps here like you! Even I like you!”

I stared at him.

“You like me?”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “Not like that, I guess, don’t get yer hopes up or anything, but still: I
like you. You’re pretty fun and cool to hang out with, as long as you’re not angrily cussing
me out or yelling random Spanish things.”

I folded my arms together and frowned deeply. “If you don’t give me reasons to curse and
yell at you, I won’t curse or yell at you.”

“Ya won’t?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“No. Maybe.”

“Oh so now it’s a maybe?”

“Maybe. Yes.”

“You’re fuckin’ confusing, Vags.”

“Yes. Shut your trap.”

Out of nowhere and without a warning, I chuckled. It started out weakly, but soon, my
suppressed chuckles transformed into actual, genuine laughter – it was just such a weird
conversation, really, but it apparently had come at exactly the right time. He looked at me as I
was laughing, his eyes all big and surprised, like he had never heard me laugh before. Then,
he began to grin as well, and next thing I know, the both of us were laughing and wheezing,
our bodies shaking with contentment.

“You’re such a fucking ass,” I managed to get out, wiping the tears – another, better kind of
tears – of out my single eye. I wanted to say something to him, maybe even make another
comment that would make him snicker some more and give me back that bubbly, carefree
feeling I had experienced just now, but then, well…

Let’s just say I then found out the hard way that Alastor, like Charlie had told me a little
while ago, was pretty much over his goddamn fever.

And both Charlie and Alastor had apparently decided to loudly celebrate that. With open
windows, so that everybody else would know about it as well, because of course they had
forgotten to close those windows.

Just like that, our laughter came to an abrupt end. As the noises above us grew extremely R-
rated and more passionate with every passing second, I felt my heart withdraw itself deeper
and deeper into my chest. New tears were already impatiently awaiting their turn to slide
down my face – but before any of that could happen, all of the sounds were suddenly blocked
out as he put his hands over my ears and angrily looked up at the windows – as if that would
stop them, as if Charlie and Alastor would suddenly pause their lovemaking to hurriedly shut
the windows and later tell us that they were sorry for disturbing our lovely little moment.

Still, I was touched.

I was touched he’d try to shield me like that.

I eventually cried anyway – I felt I did – but I smiled and snorted a bit through the tears,
grabbing the lower portion of his shirt, grateful to have something to hold on to.

“If only you still had more arms,” I heard myself say.

A slow, strange, stressful moment passed in which my comment simply hung in the air,
floating, waiting carefully on what would happen next.

Without a sound and without warning, he then pulled me closer than he had ever done before,
shutting out all of the noises in another, astonishingly welcome way.

VvV

So I totally let Angel Dust take me to his room and pity-fuck me, then I went back to my own
room and then we all pretended this had never happened. The end.

Except that NO, it HADN’T ended yet, because I was STILL SITTING HERE, with my
SLEEPY, BARE ASS AND BOOBS, and when I carefully climbed out of the bed, I had to
wince, since there was icky stuff leaking out of me oh my fucking GOD OH NO OH NO.

I shivered in utter, absolute disgust, then growled, twirled around to glare at Angel’s
snoozing, passed out, lanky body lying just a bit further away from me, drool dripping on the
mattress, out of that stupidly-smiling mouth of his, and I was this close – this fucking close to
cutting his cock off and slap him in the face with it, when I kindly reminded myself that if I
did do that, I would only make things worse and more awkward for myself.

So I swallowed my anger and quickly slipped into one of his dresses: he had enough of those
anyway – Christ, I bet he could dress an entire orphanage with them. After getting dressed, I
flipped him off one last time (I didn’t care he was too unconscious to see it, it felt good and
that’s what mattered) and then made my way out of the bedroom. Out out out – as fast and
quietly as I fucking could.

Only to bump into freaking Charlie, who had been about to knock on the door.

VvV

“V-Vaggie?” she stammered, as I shrieked, jumped back and almost crashed into Angel’s
bedroom door.

I flawlessly regained my composure, though – having been a prostitute in my life before this
afterlife (and therefore having been in similar situations like this one) finally came in handy.
Calmly, I straightened my back, stroke the folds out of Angel’s dress and cleared my throat.

“Yes, it is me. Vaggie. Hello, Charlie.”

Yes. Very flawless indeed.

Too bad I sounded like a goddamn robot!

Charlie watched me internally panic for a little while, all without knowing what was going
on, and tilted her head, just a bit. “What were you doing in Angel Dust’s room?”

“What I was doing in there? Waking his sleazy ass up, of course,” I heard myself say, this
time actually sounding like myself again. “It’s almost time for breakfast, after all! Right?”

Maybe God had decided I had suffered enough in Hell already, because, miraculously,
Charlie nodded, saying that it was indeed almost 8 o’clock, which was breakfast time in our
hotel (except on Sundays – but we don’t talk about Sundays). Charlie also indirectly
confirmed my suspicions that she was busy making her usual rounds, getting late and
unwilling sinners out of their beds. Angel Dust had been the next one on her list.
“But now I don’t have to wake Angel up anymore, because you’ve taken care of him
already,” she grinned.

“Oh yes,” I said, “I sure have taken care of him, don’t you worry about that.”

Charlie – who thankfully seemed to take the bait – beamed yet another dazzling smile at me.
Hmm. Looks like last night’s… festivities had done her good. I could tell she had some
difficulties with walking or even just standing still, but the happiness was radiating right off
of her. For how long hadn’t Alastor been able to have sex with her? A week or so? He must
have felt like he had to make up for something – and so he had wanted to make sure she’d
wobble around in this post-coitus bliss all day.

Good, because he had certainly dodged a dangerous bullet there.

“What a cute dress!” Charlie then cut of my train of thought – and I was on high alert yet
again when my friend studied the lacy, breezy fabric of the dress I was wearing. “It’s so frilly
though – I thought you didn’t like things with frills?”

Since I could literally feel stuff slithering down my legs (uuuuugh), I backed away from
Charlie as subtly as I could. All she had to do was cast her eyes down – and that would be it,
the secret would be out, because no matter how oblivious Charlie was, she wasn’t all that
naïve when it was about sex, and she fucking knew what semen trickling down your leg
looked like. And probably felt like.

I unwittingly looked down at Charlie’s legs.

She wore pants.

Of fucking course she did!

“Vaggie?” Charlie asked again.

“I – I sometimes like to wear frilly things,” I hastily explained, gulping. “Frilly dresses are
like shorts. They’re comfy and easy to wear!”

That was too much – oh shit, that was too out of character, dammit. Charlie stopped admiring
the blueish dress and gave me a questioning look. She started opening her mouth – and I
dreaded the moment she would ask me if everything was alright, because nothing was alright,
and I knew myself well-enough to know I would instantly spill the beans the minute she’d
show interest in me, because no matter how much my affections and feelings for her had been
snuffed out, I was still weak for her attention.

Help came from an unexpected source, however, as Alastor fucking manifested himself right
next to her all of a sudden, looking even more pompous and overbearingly happy with
himself than usual.

“Ah – there you are, my love! I’m sorry to interrupt your lovely dialogue with your
obnoxious moth friend, but I fear your assistance is required downstairs. Somebody has
apparently strung Bob up by his ankle in the entrance hall and I’d love to help him out, but…
well, you know how much I despise touching parasites. Ha ha!”

“Oh god, not again,” Charlie groaned. “That’s like the tenth time this has happened…”

“Yes, how very awful. I do wonder who’s behind it.”

Alastor grinned and winked knowingly at me. That fucker. I just narrowed my eyes at him
and mouthed the words “fuck you”.

He seemed pleased. “I adore you as well, my dear.”

I made an offended, squeaky sound. “That’s NOT what I said and you fucking KNOW IT!”

Charlie swiftly clapped in her hands to get our attention again (and to keep me from kicking
her lover’s face in, most likely). “O-okay then, I’ll go fetch the hook for some Bob-airfishing.
Al, Vaggie – will the two of you finish my round and wake up the rest of the hotel’s sinners?
Thanks! I’ll talk to you later!”

She yanked Alastor down by his bowtie and kissed him on the cheek, before weirdly/briskly
walking off. However, before she started making her way down the stairs, she seemed to
remember something and looked over her shoulder one more time.

“Oh yes – don’t forget your first therapy session today!”

I wasn’t sure if Charlie said that to remind either me or Alastor (who was rubbing his cheek
with this stupid expression) about that godawful prospect, but we both responded as one
would have expected of us: Alastor with a loud and harsh laugh, while my face, somehow,
got even whiter than Charlie’s.

Oh yeah – that.

Just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse…

VvV

I hadn’t been too happy about… having to be Alastor’s fucking therapist.

The shitlord was a terror. A fucking lost cause – even Charlie now admitted that much. Sort
of. Also, I kind of hated him. In, like, twenty different kinds of ways. Long story short: I
didn’t want to be his fucking shrink! I didn’t want to hear whatever diabolical crap was on his
mind, I didn’t want to hear what was bothering his disturbed mind and I didn’t want anything
to do with him in the very fucking first place! Why didn’t Charlie herself become his damn
counselor?

“I get your point, but that’s not professional, Vaggie. You see, it’s not really… ethical to be
the therapist of your own lover. I mean, don’t you agree that that just makes things too…
complicated?” Charlie had reasoned, after it had become clear that I was going to be
appointed as Alastor’s shrink.

I had grunted. “As if he’ll tell anybody but you anything. He trusts you most out of all of us
anyway – there isn’t anything he wouldn’t tell you. He—”

“You’re wrong.”

Charlie had given me a cool, almost downright cold look – hadn’t a certain sadness in her
eyes softened her face somewhat. She didn’t elaborate on her words and she didn’t try to
laugh it off; she was just stating a simple, sure fact and I could tell it hurt her to say it out
loud.

It caught me off guard and it made me worried, so instead of trying to convince her to ‘give’
Alastor to either Niffty or Husk (look, we just didn’t have that much staff and hiring new
people was expensive, okay), I accepted my fate. Eventually, that is: I needed a couple of
weeks to get used to the very idea of being a shrink to a motherfucking serial killer, first.

However, I would be lying if I said becoming a therapist – even Alastor’s – didn’t kind of
excite me. Getting to be someone who could help out others… it filled me with an uncharted
kind of satisfaction. I actually felt like I would finally be doing something… worthwhile.

See, I had wanted to become an educator in life. I didn’t make it that far, obviously, for all
kinds of reasons, but now that I was in Hell, I had gotten another chance to learn something.
To accomplish something. To become someone respectable. So I (secretively, yet
enthusiastically) studied everything about behaviorism, psychology and what-not – and god,
being rewarded with that silly little certificate that told me I was a pseudo-official therapist
now at the end of that crash course…

…it gave me the best feeling I had felt in years.

I had done this. I had pulled this off, by my own hard and diligent work. Nobody had assisted
me with this and nobody had told me how to get the best results – all of this, I had done it all
by myself.

At that moment, I was so proud of myself. So – so goddamn proud. If only my mother could
have seen me. Or my father. Or even my grandmother. They’d take back those true, yet still
hurtful things they’d said about me before. They’d forgive me from straying off of the right
path. Their eyes would lit up and they’d applaud and cheer for me, and all would be well.

So…

So I was going to give it my all, dammit – even if one of my clients was Alastor, the fucking
Radio Demon that even his very own lover had given up on. Even if I feared it would all be
for nothing.

I’d still give it my all, even if it would be the fucking last thing I’d do!
 VvV

At 2:15 PM, my ‘therapy time’ with Alastor was in full swing.

I had to be honest: although I was sure Alastor would be a fucking pain in the ass during our
very first counsel, those first five to ten minutes actually… went by without anything horrible
or noteworthy happening.

I had been wary of him, naturally, right from the moment that yellow-teethed shitstain had
entered the therapy room (with a damn flourish even), but he seemed to behave himself well
enough, answered my basic, none-too-heavy questions and obediently played the part of a
help-seeking client. I even almost started to feel like a legit, honest-to-goodness professional
– that’s how smoothly everything seemed to go.

Almost, though.

Almost.

“Well, my dear, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, would you kindly tell me what it
was like? Sleeping with the perverted spider fellow, I mean?”

I—

I immediately snapped my head up from the clipboard with the scribbles – and I snapped my
pencil as well, at the very same fucking time. My serious and ‘expert’-attitude up to that
point, that had even surprised me, was instantly forgotten, not even leaving a nice, sweet
memory behind.

“W-what did you say?” I stammered.

“Oh you heard me well, miss Therapist. I’m not going to repeat myself.”

Alastor, who had taken a seat on the couch across from the sofa I was sitting in, put one of his
ridiculously long legs over the other one and leaned back, grinning contently upon seeing my
perplexed, totally overwhelmed expression.

Protesting was no use, I realized that much.

“How?” I found myself asking, putting my shaking clipboard down on my lap. “How – how
did you find out?”

“Oh ho ho, well, my dear – I’m very perceptive for these kinds of things!” The Radio Demon
leaned forwards a bit and gave me a condescending look, that one red eye of his glowering
ominously. “The signs were all there! The guilt on your face as Charlie and I met you in the
corridor. The way you moved... differently. The tone of your voice and the panic in that
single pink eye of yours… why, for someone like me, someone who knows to bring up just
enough interest in other living beings to find out what makes them tick, what moves them…
what hurts them… it was a matter of adding up all of these to come to the logical conclusion
you didn’t spend last night alone.”

I couldn’t swallow anymore for a good few seconds and gripped my throat until it felt like I
could breathe again.

“Was… was it that obvious,” I croaked out.

“Oh heavens no! Not at all! No, the spider creature simply told me, that’s it.”

My face fell flat, while Alastor’s invisible radio audience simultaneously started laughing,
whistling and applauding for their host.

“…wait – wait, he what?”

“Oh my, don’t you look wonderfully upset now! Are you disappointed?” Alastor let out a
roar as well and smacked his knee. “Ha! Truth is, my dear, I absolutely don’t care about you
or whatever you have been up to! I only discovered about your naughty escapades when
Angel Dust came out of his room this morning, shortly after you had gone to a different floor.
He asked me if I had seen either you or his blue frilly dress. I, of course, laughed at him and
told him I would whack him on his skanky skull with my microphone stand if he’d come one
single step closer to me. Then he said he had slept with you. Just like that!”

“Oh my fucking GOD!” I blurted out.

He nodded understandingly. “Yes, I, too, found his confession a very unusual response to a
threat, but oh well.”

“And – and then? Then what happened?”

“Nothing much.” Alastor shrugged. “Your unfortunate bedpartner seemed to realize he had
goofed up by telling me about last night and got an interesting, purple hue, before he shrieked
I should forget everything he had told me – and then he got away from me as fast as his
hideous legs could carry him.”

I groaned, lowered my head and cradled it in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. “I can’t
believe that – that fucking idiot… now people will talk… they will get even more annoying…
they will… Charlie will… ugh…”

Alastor’s hand shallowly patted my head a few times. “Now now, don’t you worry, my mothy
loudmouth! I’m sure that waste of space will think twice before spilling the beans about you
and him yet another time (well no that’s a lie, I’m not completely convinced he won’t,
because it’s still Angel Dust were talking about here). Besides, I’m not planning to tell
anybody about it, either.”

I looked up from my hands. “You’re not?”

“Oh no, certainly not! If you’re willing to humor me for a bit, that is.”
He chortled and got yet another round of approving applause from an audience I couldn’t
see.

I rolled with my eyes. Ah. I should have known. This was Alastor, after all – that bastard
never did anything for anybody, unless the other person was either Charlie or somebody who
was well-prepared for all the compensation Alastor was going to expect from them in return.

Sighing, I raised my head some more, giving the deer demon on the couch a tired look.
“Alright, you cunning creep – what do you want from me? What do I need to do to keep you
from telling others about my mistake?”

“By telling me more about that mistake.”

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

At first I was convinced he was fucking trolling me again, that red asshole, so clenched my
teeth together and wanted to nag at him to get serious already, for Christ’s sake. But upon
noticing his face, I felt my anger evaporating. Alastor was serious. His smile had lessened a
bit, just like how the radio noises around him had grown less boisterous.

“I'm not joking around. I'm simply very curious about how that mistake could have
happened,” he emphasized.

I calmed down and relaxed my shoulders. “Why? Why are you so curious about it?”

“You’re attracted to females only, correct?” Alastor kept staring at me with an unfeigned
eagerness. “You have never felt the desire to share the bed with males in the past. And yet,
you did yesterday. You did something you thought you would never do, because the very
thought alone most likely repulsed you. So why, my dear? Why did you willingly cross that
bridge?”

I didn’t understand why Alastor would be so fucking interested in my sex (or love) life. I
mean, the jerk had told me just a few minutes ago he didn’t give a shit about me. Other than
Charlie, he only cared about himself, so why—

Oh.

Ohh.

I thought about my next move for a little while, observing Alastor thoroughly.

“Okay… let me put aside me and Angel Dust’s… thoughtless fling for a bit and focus back
on you,” I eventually said, “because this is about you, isn’t it? You don’t give a crap about me
screwing Angel or whatever other sinner in this hotel. Like hell you care about that. You just
want to know something about yourself. Don’t you? Something that worries you.”

Taken aback, Alastor blinked a couple of times – but that was the only hint of surprise or any
emotion I got out of him. His high-and-mighty posture and demeanor didn’t wane and
 therefore didn’t tell me anything. There were no other physical responses, either. It… just
looked like he was waiting.

I should pick my words very carefully now.

Clearing my throat, I picked up my clipboard again – and the remains of my poor, shattered
pencil. Like that, I sneakily slipped back into my role as therapist.

“Alastor,” I began, “have you ever heard about this thing called asexuality?”

Chapter End Notes

There once was a fair princess who never smiled. This worried the King and he
promised that whoever could make his daughter laugh would have his permission to
marry her. Over the years, many people tried to make the Princess laugh or smile, but
none succeeded.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the land, a hard (but also kind of dim) worker is told by
his master he is allowed to take as much money from him as he wants. He ends up
taking three coins and then, he decides to travel around the land. During his travels, the
worker meets up with a mouse, a beetle and a catfish, that all ask him for a bit of money.
He gives them his three coins and carries on.
Eventually, the worker ends up at the castle of the King – and, much to his astonishment,
he sees the beautiful Princess looking at him, out of her window! This surprises the
worker so much that he trips and lands head-first into a pool of mud. Then, out of
absolutely freaking nowhere, the mouse, the beetle and the catfish all come to the man’s
aid – and their shenanigans are such a bizarre sight to behold that the Princess burst into
laughter. When she’s done laughing, she points to the muddied klutz and exclaims she
has found her true love – and the two marry soon after, living a happily ever after.

This story, a Russian folk tale, was collected by Alexander Afanasyev (1826-1871), who
published hundreds of Russian fairy and folk tales – in spite of his early death. He’s
considered to be the Russian counterpart to the Brothers Jacob (1785-1863) and
Wilhelm (1786-1859) Grimm.
 The Pied Piper of Hamelin
Chapter Summary

Alastor talks about his background story.

Chapter Notes

When you’re reading this chapter and you’re like “hey, but that’s not what’s canon” at a
certain point – you are probably right. What I made up to be Al’s past, isn’t 100%
compliant with what we know according to the existing information – okay, well, of
course it isn’t, I mean, we don’t know all that much about Al’s background, but still.
Thought I should put it out there anyway, just in case!^^

Also, the topic asexuality will get discussed a bit. As somebody who heavily suspects
herself to be an asexual as well, I did my best to write down what I know and have
looked up about the asexual spectrum. If something doesn’t seem right to you or if you
feel offended in some way, please keep in mind that this is mainly my own point of view
on/my interpretation of a specific kind of asexuality. It’s a pretty huge spectrum, after
all!

Feel free to talk to me about it, though!^^

See the end of the chapter for more notes

After the therapy session with Vaggie, I found my mind drifting off to the past, as I
absentmindedly walked around the corridors of the hotel.

When I still dwelled in the world of the living, there had always been one person in my life
that I loved unconditionally – and that person was my mother. My caring, sweet and
hardworking mother, who was forced to go through a lot more hardships than most women
and mothers her age had to.

It wasn’t her fault she had to work so hard – it was all because my stupid, meddlesome
numbskull of a father decided to die young, like an idiot.

Having become a widow just a few years into her marriage and needing to work even harder
in order to distract herself from the grief and to keep her only child well-fed and happy, my
mother never complained about her situation and did the best she could to shield me from her
internal darkness and depressing thoughts. However, as her doting son, I definitely felt my
mom was suffering because of my father’s untimely death. That’s why I did my best to
become more like him, so that maybe, just maybe, I could bring him back into her life a little
bit. I looked a lot like him after all: the single thing that I hadn’t inherited from my father
were my brown eyes (which were my mother’s).

Taking over some of my father’s character traits I could still recall, like his constantly smiling
face, his love for lame puns and his unrealistic optimism, helped lifting my mother’s spirits:
she loved seeing him back in me and (unwittingly and indirectly) encouraged me to become
even more like him. Unfortunately enough, my father had been a fairly popular, loved man in
the community my family lived in, because of his humbleness and his tendency to help others
in need… and that’s where our similarities ended.

I wasn’t humble.

I wasn’t helpful.

Therefore, I wasn’t exactly popular or loved, either.

Oh I had tried, believe me, I had.

But in the end, I couldn’t fool myself nor the people around me.

The strange combination of looking like my handsome father and always straining myself to
wear his broad smile, while having a cunning personality that was nothing like his at all, left
an eerie, bad taste in the mouths of my mother’s close friends and relatives – and although I
wasn’t ever bullied or harassed, people that were offered the choice would rather avoid me
altogether. It was a lonely time. I felt so ignored, so invisible, so dispatched from the rest of
the world…

Ah, well. I couldn’t blame the townsfolk, though.

After all, they knew – felt – that something wasn’t… right with me.

I learned to deal with it, and eventually, I didn’t even mind it all that much anymore: outside
of my own neighborhood, where nobody knew my twisted self, I had people flocking to me
anyways. After becoming an energetic radio host of a well-known radio station in the big city
of Louisiana, I got more popular than my daft father had ever been! One of the many upsides
of being on the radio from AM to PM and having a larger-than-life-personality: people just
couldn’t ignore or avoid me! And the best part was: they didn’t even want to! The people in
the city loved my charisma, my boisterous words, my youthful arrogance, and – again,
outside of my family’s tight, oppressing community – I could be whoever I wanted to be, act
however I wanted to act!

Vent my pent-up frustrations however I wanted to vent them.

Kill whoever I wanted to kill.

Ahh, but this isn’t about my bloodlust and why and when it all started to build up inside of
me until it finally escalated. No no no, this was about the single thing I felt I couldn’t grand
my mother, no matter how much she wanted me to give her that. No matter how much I
wanted me to want to give her that.

A daughter-in-law.

AaA

Now don’t get me wrong: my mother and I never got into fights or arguments about the fact
that I wasn’t interested in women, men or relationships altogether. I probably was lucky I was
a man – I sometimes wondered if things would have been more problematic for me, had I
been a female in this same, awkward situation.

But even though my mother never pushed me to bring home a lady friend, she did hope I
would. I knew she did. Whenever I came back from work and talked to her about the people I
had met that day, her light-brown eyes would always lit up a little when I mentioned a
woman’s name.

“Oh! She sounds lovely, my dear! Do you get along with her?”

“Mother, I – she was only in town for one evening. I don’t expect to meet her again.”

“But would you like to meet her again?”

“Not particularly?”

“Ah.” A faint smile. “Alright then.”

I… didn’t enjoy these kind of conversations. They always fell flat and they made me feel
downright confused. As if I was doing something wrong.

Years passed by and while I myself didn’t necessarily worry about my single status (to be
completely honest, I was perfectly happy with who I was and with what I did), I did notice
that the people around me weren’t like me.

Co-workers that had begun working at the radio station around the same time I had,
ultimately gave up their single lives. They got into committed relationships, and soon after
that, they got married. Within a year or two, I could expect an announcement in our office,
where one of the workers would proudly proclaim their were going to be parents soon.

“What about you, Alastor,” was the somewhat mocking, somewhat friendly-meant question
that always, always came after yet another workmate had gotten hitched to someone they had
been seeing for a while. “You’re already in your thirties, right? Isn’t it about time you find
yourself a girl and settle down? Don’t be too picky now! You better hurry up before it’s too
late and you end up old and all alone, ha ha!”

Ha ha!

Ha ha indeed.
It unnerved me.

No matter how much I tried to shrug it off me, no matter how much I laughed along and no
matter how much of that tension was later released after I had deliciously choked out the life
of some random fool in an abandoned alleyway – it still unnerved me.

They were right.

It was strange to be in your thirties and still have no interest in sex or intimate relationships.

This wasn’t only bothersome for me because of my mother’s wish to see me in a mundane
relationship, but it could also quickly become very bothersome for me personally, since my
secret little hobby was starting to draw the unwanted attention of the local police department.
Several people's bodies had been found in the streets after all, murdered in cold-blood, and I
knew they were looking for suspects that weren’t completely normal, that acted out of line,
that stood out – and I knew nobody who stood out more than me, the charming, attractive, yet
still very much single radio host that always went his own way, walked his own pace and
kept others at a safe distance.

If I didn’t do anything soon, it wouldn’t be long before they’d find out that 'that one radio
guy' was behind all of those killings all along.

So I tried to go out with people – all kinds of people, just to increase my chances.

It didn’t work out.

Every girl bored me.

Every man bored me.

Every person bored me.

I never let them come close, never let them touch me and I always made sure I was the one in
control.

Every date ended quite wonderfully though: to all of my infatuated dates, I’d be the charming
gentleman that would kiss their hand, help them into their feathery coats, wish them the best
of nights and send them off with a smile that could fluster even the most stone-faced whores
around the seedy streets of Louisiana – and then I vowed to myself to never ever see them
again, because yet again, this had been another boorish evening that I was never going to get
back.

Usually, my temporary companion for that evening would lose hope after I had ignored their
letters, calls and other attempts to contact me for a little while. They, most likely, always
came to the logical conclusion that a popular, handsome man like me was sharing the bed
with numerous people every night anyway. That they probably should be grateful that I had
lost interest in them before their heart, too, would have gotten brutally broken by me.

Usually, yes. This was how it went down usually.

One woman, however, wasn’t going to give up on me that easily – and therefore, that one
woman wouldn’t only decide her own gruesome fate that way, but mine as well.

AaA

She was a rather short, curvy, self-righteous songstress that claimed to have fallen in love
with me at first sight. She had short, almost white hair and light, gray eyes that seemed to
pierce right through you. For some, she was a clear beauty to behold and she was something
of a local celebrity: all the men wanted her. But she wanted me, the mysterious radio host she
had heard so much about. She would capture my heart, she had promised me on our first and
only outing, and there was nothing I could do about that.

She annoyed me right from the get-go.

Truth be told, I loved interacting with bright, idealistic people that had a certain liveliness
about them and I had taken some of them out on dinner dates and other fun outings before,
but this woman? This woman acted like a cocky, overconfident harlot. Normally, I attempted
to entice my dates with almost-intimidating touches and words in order to completely win
them over, but with this lady – I didn’t even want to sit near her.

Keeping up appearances was something I had gotten quite good at, whether I liked the person
communicating with me or not. The songstress, however, just plainly disgusted me with her
clingy, drunk and inelegant behavior – and after a mere hour, I didn’t even pretend to like her
anymore. I curtly told her that I wasn’t interested in her and that it would be better to never
see one another again. As she gaped at me, speechless at last, I took my coat and left the café
we had been visiting. I even left all of the bill for her to pay, something I never did, just to get
my point across even harder.

Annoyingly enough, from that day on, the minx began to stalk me. Unabashed, even, and it
got worse every passing day. First, she’d only wait for me outside of the radio studio. Later,
she started to follow me through the city as soon as I was done working. Ultimately, she even
went as far as to walk into my house one day, introducing herself to my flabbergasted mother
as my fiancée.

Ho ho! Some spunk that girl had, I had to admit that much!

She told me she knew enough about me to be aware of the fact that I loved my mother dearly
and that I would never hurt a woman, no matter what.

Well then.

She would soon find out the hard way that people - such fickle creatures! - could change their
opinions and morals.

Especially if they were pushed hard enough.

 AaA

Now, I wasn’t fearful of her. Oh ho ho, no no, not in the least.

It simply was very inconvenient to have such a persistent, irritating stalker.

Ever since this lady had started bothering me daily, I no longer could lighten up my day-to-
day life with an exciting kill; I no longer could take out my frustrations on unsuspecting
victims lying around in the city. I grew bored and annoyed, and subsequently, my
dissatisfaction and anger over the current situation grew worse and worse. I reached my
absolute breaking point when I one day had to read in the local newspaper that the popular
wench had gone around the city, claiming she was carrying my unborn child, which was very
much impossible.

I threw away the newspaper before my mother could read the news and it was at that
moment, as it started to dawn upon me that this woman wasn’t afraid to go to even greater
lengths to catch me in her sticky web, that I decided that enough was enough.

I needed to get rid of her.

So early in the morning, I did some preparations and then left the house early – earlier than
normal. It didn’t matter: I had barely walked two steps out of my house or I could feel her
posh eyes, pricking into my back. I enjoyed the silent anticipation I could feel building up
inside of me and took a leisurely stroll around the neighborhood, until I had reached the place
where I had parked my car, near a quiet, neglected park. Around this time during the day,
nobody came to this place. So I simply sat down on a bench and waited. Sure enough, upon
noticing I was all by myself and didn’t seem to be in a hurry to wander off, the woman came
out of the bushes, approaching me with this crazed, adoring look in her eyes. Before she
could open her mouth, I took out a large knife and calmly told her I would gallantly give her
a couple of seconds to run away and never show her face in front of me again. However, I
told her, if she didn’t run away, I would definitely kill her.

After a perplexed silence, she laughed.

She didn’t run. She didn’t even attempt to. She laughed, cackling out loud that I didn’t have
the stones.

I stabbed her to death as soon as she was done laughing.

Hilariously enough I could tell later, from her bewildered expression as she laid there on the
grass, quickly bleeding out and spilling her guts, that she absolutely hadn’t seen it coming. I
had played a rather convincing role as the ever-charming, kind gentleman. This gullible lady,
that could have gotten everybody, could have attracted everybody with her voice alone, had
attempted to reel in the one fish she couldn’t catch – and as a result, had ended up as a pile of
dead, cold meat.

I never found her that good of a singer anyway.

After the deed was done, I swiftly wrapped her, her guts and the knife in a blanket I had taken
from home, before chucking the body into the back of my car. I left some traces of the blood
where it was, on the grass – it was going to rain in about an hour anyway. Then I changed my
clothes and removed my gloves… and then I drove off, to work. It had been the first time I
had killed somebody in broad daylight, in a neighborhood close to mine, no less (it had been
pretty exhilarating, let me tell you that much!) and I realized that leaving her body in that
park wouldn’t work out all that greatly for me, especially since she was a well-known face
around these parts. That’s why I thought it would be a good idea to bury her body in the
woods. I had everything I needed for that with me after all, so it was a decent plan.

That day, I had the best day at work in a long time. Knowing that in about a few days, I
would start reading articles about the songstress’ mysterious disappearance, filled me with a
magnificent joy I hadn’t felt in quite a while and oh, I couldn’t wait to try and hold in my
laughter as I would tell my radio audience to please look out for the missing woman.

And don’t worry: I knew that people would ultimately come to suspect me… but that was
alright! That was all alright, because if I played my cards right, I was going to be able to
make sure nobody was ever going to find her body. And it would be wonderful to see the
police struggle to solve this puzzle from up close.

I was going to have so much fun. I was going to have so much more fun!

AaA

When work was done for the day, the weather hadn’t gotten much better.

It had started to rain heavily by the time I said goodbye to my colleagues and got into my car.
By the looks of it, there was a fierce storm brewing in the air and coming this way – and I
counted my blessings. If I managed to get rid of the corpse in my trunk now, the storm would
wash away all of my traces and the amusing cat-and-mouse game that would no doubt
happen would even get more entertaining for me!

Chuckling out loud, I drove off, into the dark afternoon. My destination? The nearby forest.

Everything went alright at first: I got into the lonely woods safe and sound, dragged the
blanket with the body out of my car and through the mud, and found a good place to bury it.
Humming a catchy tune and appreciating the rain more with every drop that fell onto me, I
dug a big hole, got rid of the remains and just when I finished putting earth on the irritating
songstress’ last resting place, I heard the sharp sound of a dog whistle.

The sound of my oncoming demise.

Not even half an hour later, I found my own death at the hands of a trembling, soaked, old
huntsman, who had accidentally mistaken me for a deer and had released his monstrous
hounds to hunt said deer down. I don’t think I’d ever forget that wrinkly, old, scared face of
the man, as he put his gun against my bleeding forehead, tried to look away from my mauled
body and muttered a few anguished prayers for me.
Later, a whole lot later, I learned that they never found my body. I’m not sure what exactly
that hunter had done after shooting me in-between my eyes, but he had made sure to get rid
of every little piece of evidence he could have left after he had taken me out. They also never
managed to retrieve my car or my shovel – everything I had left in the woods had simply
mysteriously disappeared. My car and my things, the songstress and I - we all had vanished
from the world on that stormy afternoon, poof, without leaving a trace behind. And like that,
my grieving mother was left all alone in that tiny, yet cozy home the two of us had lived in
for such a long, and yet such a short time.

Mimzy once half-jokingly told me, in a tipsy mood, that my mother probably believed that
the two of us had eloped together. That she, as any good mother, had probably wished us
well.

“I’d like that,” she murmured, her black-and-pink eyes glassy and watery as they did their
best to focus themselves on mine. “It’d be nice if you’d at least let me have that.”

I had wanted to laugh her in the face and wholeheartedly reject that ridiculous idea of hers –
because I had been told that the huntsman back then was kind enough to at least
(anonymously) let my mother know her son had perished in the woods – but in the end, I had
merely nodded at Mimzy.

Although I was aware of her still-lingering feelings for me, she wasn’t stalking me anymore.
She minded her own business nowadays and she knew I had someone else in my life –
someone she could never replace, someone that had – innocently, lovingly – succeeded to do
that that nobody, not even the great songstress Mimzy, had ever been able to do. She had
learned her lesson, I was sure of that.

So she could have her silly little fantasy.

AaA

Three partly painful, partly harsh and partly reassuring conclusions buzzed around in my
head for a while, long after I had relived this bit of my complicated past.

Conclusion one: had I been a… straight man, with a normal sex drive and a normal need to
create my own family, then I most likely wouldn’t have died the way I did. Events wouldn’t
have led up to that moment. I was fairly sure I would have died young anyway, but – well,
not like that. Perhaps, had I met somebody like Charlie, my past life would have been
different. I didn’t believe I would have changed my personality and ways all that much, but at
least a little, and maybe that would have been enough to – live a bit longer.

Conclusion two: it’s been too long since the last time I spoke to Mimzy and I should see how
she’s doing one of these days.

And conclusion three: I wasn’t broken.

Vaggie had given me an almost empathic look when I had uttered those words, back in that
therapy room.

“Okay – ignoring the fact you are a merciless serial killer with some really disturbing
tendencies and questionable morals… no, Alastor, in terms of sexuality, you’re not broken.
You just have other preferences.”

However, no matter what a relief it was for me to find out there was a name for my particular
sexuality, Vaggie warned me that it could also horribly complicate things in my and Charlie’s
relationship – and perhaps even end it, if I wasn’t "prepared for what it meant to date a
succubus", as she put it.

“Charlie’s only a half-succubus,” I had protested Vaggie’s words.

“And you’re only a demiromantic asexual,” Vaggie had cheekily responded. “At least – that’s
what I think. That you’re an asexual who can fall in love and won’t mind sexual intercourse
too much, but only after a deep and meaningful bond has developed between them and the
very special someone else. It doesn’t mean that you’re only half-romantic or half-sexual or
anything like that (in spite of what the name suggests), but it does mean that sexual attraction
works differently for you.”

“That may be, but I still don’t believe that being a – what did you call it – asexual could
possibly jeopardize our relationship,” I kept saying. “Not as long as I know who I’m dealing
with.”

Vaggie had then given me another look – a look that was empathic, a look that a parent would
give their child when the child asked when they would finally go visit the sickly dog the
parent had ‘sent to a farm’ a while ago.

“I’m not sure,” she then said, softly and forebodingly, her one eye staring motionlessly at me,
“that you are completely aware of just who you are dealing with, Alastor.”

She then insisted it wasn’t her place to tell me about what she really meant with that
statement and told me that I should have a good talk with Charlie, once I was mentally ready
to have that kind of conversation with her. Also, I should let her know that I was – most
likely – an asexual person. She even made that last tidbit a task for the upcoming week: I had
to have told Charlie I was asexual before next Monday.

I… was too blown away by everything that had been discussed during this therapy session to
go against Vaggie (or to torment her some more about her sexual adventure with Angel Dust
yesterday), so I simply agreed to her proposition and then left the room, after which I had
simply wandered the hallways for a bit in a total daze, thinking about my past life and
pondering about what my next course of action should be.

Now then!

On top of all those other, get-Charlie-to-Heaven-related goals I had for the following four-
and-a-half months, I not only needed to find out how to – well, survive Bob’s troublesome
Mark of the Fallen, but I also had to discover what Charlie was hiding from me, since that,
too, could have a catastrophically bad outcome if I didn’t do something about it.

Despite the dire situation I realized I was in, I had to laugh sarcastically at myself.

Ha ha! Well, looks like I didn’t have to feel bored the following months!

That was good! That was very good! After all, I hated being bored more than anything.

AaA

It had already been almost two-and-a-half hours since I had last seen Charlie (after we had
ended our break time in the library), so it was about time I looked my lovely lover up again.
Not per se to… do all those things Vaggie had instructed me to do (although I figured I might
as well should come clean about my sexuality to her as soon as possible), but because I
simply craved for her attention.

I wanted to see her again. I wanted to hold her in my arms again. I wanted to be with her
again. Being with her had a healing, comforting effect on my well-being and I needed that
right now.

All in all, it… had been a rather rough and busy day. Certainly, it was very pleasant to wake
up to the overly-affectionate kisses an extremely satisfied Charlie had excitedly been planting
on my lips, over and over again, until I had finally opened my eyes – but I had woken up
exhausted.

So very exhausted.

Last night had been quite fun and romantic, I’m willing to say, but dear god had all those
sexual activities drained the life out of me!

My body was still stiff and suffering from annoying muscle cramps. That most likely had got
something to do with my fairly frail constitution after having been sick for such a long time -
well, that what I presumed. It's probably also safe to say it was only normal to be feeling this
way after a night like... last night, but it still irritated me greatly: my body didn’t have any
rights to ache – at least not as much as Charlie’s probably did.

After all, her current, disturbing way of walking friendly reminded me of the fact that I
hadn’t exactly gone easy on her last night.

Hum. A-anyway...

So yes, forcing myself to get out of bed and do the tasks I was supposed to do had been a
challenge this morning, but somehow, I had still been able to get up and do all of them. Then
I had spent a nice, quiet hour with Charlie snuggled up to me in the library around noon,
which had been a welcome change of pace, and soon after that, I had that appointment with
my very own therapist – Vaggie.
 And, well, if all of yesterday’s activities and this morning’s chaos hadn’t already wore me
out, the enlightening therapy session with Vaggie a little while ago surely had done the trick!

Since I now didn’t have anything I had to do anymore anyway, it seemed like a good idea to
look my darling, soothing Charlie up again and see what she was up to.

So I was going to do just that.

Chapter End Notes

The inhabitants of the town named Hamelin are suffering from a rat infestation. Then
one day, a mysterious musician dressed in flashy clothes appears, and he claims to be a
professional rat-catcher. He promises to clean up all the rats, and the Mayor of Hamelin
in turn promises to reward the piper with gold and riches if the man succeeds. The piper
and the Mayor make a deal and when the musician takes out his pipe and starts playing
his tune, all of the town’s rats start to follow him. The piper leads them all to a river,
where they all jump into – and subsequently drown.
But when the piper returns to the Mayor and asks for his reward, the Mayor scoffs at
him, refuses to pay the piper the full price and even accuses the musician of being the
cause of the rat plague: “You probably trained the rats, so that you could extort our
innocent town!”
The angry piper swears he will come back and have his revenge. And sure enough, one
day, when all the adults are busy, the piper comes back to the town and lures (almost) all
of the 150 children out of the town with his funky tunes. The kids follow the musician
into a cave… and the children are never seen again. Three children that were unable to
follow the piper (one of them was blind, one of them couldn’t walk and one of them was
deaf) later tell the returning adults what has happened to the rest, but by then, it’s
already too late…

Like with most fairy tales, there are different versions of this tale: in some versions, the
children are returned to Hamelin after the Mayor has paid the piper. In other, darker
versions, the children drown in the river as well – but in the original one, most likely
written by the Dominican monk Heinrich von Herford (1300 – 1370), the kids just get
into a cave and… disappear.
 Sirens
Chapter Summary

Charlie wants to organize a fun karaoke party, but something else comes up.

Chapter Notes

Chisena managed to post a lovely drawing of Bob/Hakim and Charlie (and Alastor
once) every day, for an entire week! It was great! I'm going to share her arts with you
now!^^
In chronological order...
Smile More
The Young Us
All Nighter
Sweet Little Sister
Comfort
Bad Ending: Grief
Play Nice Photo Shoot
Also, of that last one, she made a GIF!

And just when I thought I had seen more than enough Bobs/Hakims for a lifetime,
Astria came along and made this! Gaaaaah! The colors! The atmosphere! I love it all so
much! ^/////^

Thanks for all the art, for all the love, for all the appreciation! This never fails to
completely take me by surprise and make me feel like the happiest, most fortunate
fanfic-author there is. I can't believe how nice people are to me and I really, really
cannot stress enough just how blessed I am!^^

As for the chapter, you might not recognize just what song Charlie is singing. Here you
go. Don't judge me. It makes sense in context, I swear! XDDDDD

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I’m kind of a bastard, so when I saw the princess sweating bullets and trying her hardest to
drag an enormous piece of machinery into the main hall, I didn’t get up from the barstool and
I didn’t offer her my help.

That’s not my style, people. I won’t offer anybody my help – not if I can’t make some money
out of it.
Plus, I was very pissed at the moment, and I still felt just as fucking confused as I was this
morning, so I’d be nice if everybody just… just fucking left me the hell alone already,
dammit!

So I sat there, like a beautiful, purebred asshole, and stared at Charlie, evilly, peeking over my
glass of – whatever Husk had poured into it, as the blonde hotel manager huffed and puffed
and barely managed to move the big thing even a single inch. Her face got all red and stuff,
but instead of giving me a snarl and a nasty look for not helping her, she just grinned
sheepishly at me, as if she wanted to say “ha ha ha I should have thought this through a bit
better right lol”, and then continued struggling pushing the metallic device further into the
hall.

It was infuriating.

Just look at this bitch – acting all nice and wholesome, like the precious cinnamon bun she
pretended to be. Heh, well, she didn’t sound so fucking innocent yesterday, when she was
getting banged so hard and cried out so freaking loud, I was sure even the biggest sluts in
Valentino’s various sexhouses could learn a thing or two from her! I swear, that girl could
probably wake up an entire, deader-than-dead cemetery if she really was in her element.

Our sparkly, inspiring rainbow princess – ha! The stupid ditz now could barely take two steps
without looking like a foal attempting to walk for the first time, thanks to all of that delicious
dick she got last night! Lo and behold, gentlefolks, Hell’s finest, most incorruptible little
sweetheart – fucked raw and senseless, like a shameless skank!

And yet.

Aaaand yet and yet and yet - she was still here. Not in bed, or mooning over Alastor. She was
here, and she was working her hardest, as she always did. Presumably, once again, not even
for her own sake, but for the sake of the rest of her hotel’s sinners. Like her own pleasures,
aches and troubles didn’t matter to her all that much in comparison. Like there were more
important things for her to think about than what she herself wanted. Like… she actually
cared about—

GOD, she was so fucking annoying. I mean, she didn’t even think about nagging at me for
ignoring her and acting like a fucking douchy asshole towards her! What a total loser, right? I
couldn’t fucking stand it!

Ugh.

Okay – I had enough of this bullshit. Charlie’s moronic bumbling around was getting on my
nerves – and believe you me, my nerves really couldn’t handle much right now. With a deep,
groaning grunt, I attempted to actually get up from the barstool and help her ou—

Out of the fucking blue, I got a hard shove – hard enough to make me and my drink fall to the
ground with an undignified smack.

Motherfucking—!
When I furiously scrambled myself up and looked around me to see which goddamn prick
had caused me to fall off my stool like that, I met Husk’s disapproving dark eyes.

“Get your pink ass moving and come help the princess out already, you disgruntled, sorry
piece of trash. Feel sorry about your fucked-up one-night-stand later.”

I had wanted to yell at the cat demon to freaking mind his own damn business and let me be a
mean, nasty bitch in fucking peace, but then I happened to catch a glimpse of Charlie,
wheezing heavily, wiping her forehead, rolling up her sleeves and sneakily glancing looks at
both me and Husk. Her hopeful eyes told me everything her mouth didn’t, really, which made
her a bit more humane, a bit less angelic, and that kind of did the trick.

So in the end, I let out a hard and mournful huuuuuuuurrrrrrr – I actually did my best to
make it real nice and long-lasting, too, how about them apples – and grumpily dusted off my
prized and much-worshipped butt, before tagging along with Husk, to the lovely princess’
rescue.

I already helped out one princess yesterday anyway – what difference would it make to assist
yet another one?

At least this one didn’t make me feel fucking weird from inside.

DdD

“Thanks so much, you guys!” Charlie chirped happily, as soon as she, Husk and I had –
somehow – managed to get the device she had been pushing and pulling around on the big
podium in the main hall. “I probably couldn’t have done it without you, so… well, like I said,
thank you!”

I folded my arms together and muttered something not even I understood or heard, while
Husk gave the princess a curt nod.

“What’s that thing anyway?” Husk wanted to know, as Charlie bended her legs and started to
fidget around with the machinery. I looked on, my curiosity carefully hidden away behind an
aloof, cruddy mask. It looked like… a gigantic, black loudspeaker with a lot of dials, buttons,
cables, lights and switches, really – something that resembled a boombox of some sorts.
Something-something… music-related? Look, I wasn't that stupid, but I didn't know what a
boombox exactly was: I wasn’t interested in metallic things that were made after my death
and looked like stuff that was wayyy too complicated for a dim-witted crackhead like me to
understand. But I was pretty damn sure it had got something to do with music. It even had
two wireless microphones and shit.

Hey hey… now that I think about it, didn’t Val have this kind of thing installed at a couple of
his Porn Studios as well? What did he call them again? It was on the tip of my tongue…

“It’s a karaoke set – a modern one!” Charlie disrupted my thoughts, grinning excitedly and
pulling a mike off the device to excessively point at it – like that would clear everything up
right away.

“Huh,” Husk said, scrubbing his chin with an oversized paw. “Interesting.”

I smirked – ha, of course our grumpy kitty cat, stoic, unmovable Husky-Busky, wouldn’t give
a tiny rat’s ass about something as frivolous as…

…wait.

Wait wait wait a hot second – he actually found it interesting?

And even more astonishing: he knew what it was?

“Yeah I know what it is – now close your goddamn mouth and stop being so fuckin’
surprised, it’s insulting, dammit.” Husk huffed, glaring at me while Charlie quietly carried on
installing the setup to the big screen on the podium in the background. “They had some
karaoke rooms in Vietnam, okay? If we didn’t have to fight and weren’t gambling our
troubles away, the boys and I instead went to these places a couple of times, during the war.
Sometimes some locals and their kids came along, too. It was pretty neat.”

I snorted. “But weren’t you, like, already fuckin’ old when ya fought in Vietnam?”

“Weren’t you like already fucking dead for decades when I fought in Vietnam?” Husk’s glare
intensified.

"Oof - burn!" I let out a chuckle. “Alright alright - totally deserved that one. Sorry for that.
Still though, care to tell me more about it? I’ve seen these things around Hell and everythin’
– get’cha thinkin’ why that is, huh – but I’m not really an expert, catch my drift?”

The cat demon grumbled, watching Charlie connecting cables, checking lights and testing the
sound. Without turning towards me, he then started to explain to me what karaoke exactly
was.

“It’s something Japan developed, I think. Not sure, but hey – if it’s weird yet strangely
addictive, it’s probably from Japan. Karaoke’s a form of entertainment that lets you sing
along with a piece of prerecorded music, using a microphone and the subtitles you’re
supposed to sing out loud when they appear on the screen. There is no singer; you are the
singer, and that’s about it. People do it for fun, but it’s also got a competitive side: if you’re
going to do karaoke in a group and sing in turns, the person that sings best gets the most
points and all that. Some machines actually give you points on how well you sing, so that’s
kind of cool.”

I gazed at Husk’s fuzzy face, absolutely blown-away. “Oh my god, that's hilarious – you
actually really fuckin' like it, don’t ya?”

“Hggggrrrr,” Husk hgggrrr’ed defensively.

“Are you a good singer, Husky baby? Are ya? Can ya sing some sad rhythm and blues for
me?” I had to withhold myself from bursting into laughter. For some reason, picturing Husk
singing along a machine’s jingles and him giving it his all to do a great job was both
ridiculously cute as it was fucking priceless!

Husk, already getting flustered, turned his head towards me with a snap and looked like he
wanted to chew me out for mocking him – but then a high-pitched, static sound pierced
through the air, making the two of us cower and cringe in response. When I finally
straightened my back again, I had kind of expected to see Alastor skipping around Charlie
like the twiggy asshat he was (loud, annoying and eardrums-destroying static = Alastor, after
all), but he was nowhere to be seen.

We could see Charlie, however, hastily dialing down the volume and turning to both me and
Husk with a nervous smile, clasping a microphone in her hands.

“Sorry for that,” her voice echoed through the loudspeaker that was connected to the device,
“but I had to test it – to see if the speaker and the screen both work. And they do! Isn’t it
great?”

“It is,” Husk answered with a nod, brutally honest (and now honestly starting to creep me out
just the tiniest bit, I mean Jesus Christ man).

I gave the princess a questioning look. “Yea alright, I guess it’s pretty cool and all, but – do
ya care explainin’ to us why you’re settin’ up that thing all of a sudden, blondie? Are we
gonna hold a karaoke night or somethin’?”

“I’ll tell you in a bit, okay?” Charlie pressed some buttons on a remote controller. “I – um – I
just really want to try it out, first! You mind waiting for a little while? Please?”

“For this once,” Husk said with a humpf. “Since you need to test and stuff.”

Bet you twenty bucks he couldn’t wait to snatch that mike away from her and sing his fuzzy
goddamn heart out as soon as he got the opportunity.

“Yes!” Charlie cheered. She then looked at me, pleadingly. “You don’t mind it either, right,
Angel?”

Oversensitive vagina or not, the girl was practically bouncing up and down now – and I
rolled my eyes, sighing. It was no secret the Princess of Hell was an avid lover of song and
dance, and I had more than once caught her secretly humming a tune when she was busy
working or doing something else that allowed her mind to wander freely. She was a rare
specimen in that respect, since the only other being around this place that always liked to
remind everybody around him that he loved music, dance and everything that had got
something to do with it, was that red, Doritos-shaped guy she happened to bonk.

“Fine,” I eventually said, making the princess’ eyes lit up in delight. “Sing all ya want, why
not.”

Annoying morality pet or not, she still had a fucking nice voice, after all.
 AaA

There weren’t many voices I had heard during my life that had ever completely enticed me.

Ha! I suppose that was one of the many struggles of being a radio host with a pretty smooth
and charming voice himself: hearing something so arrogantly good and near-perfect every
time I opened up my mouth made sure I’d never ever be that impressed with every other
voice – not as long as that voice didn’t even come close to the high-quality, melodic voice I
myself had and shared with the rest of the world, each and every day, without even having to
put in some effort for it.

It was a curse, it was – but my goodness, did I like that curse.

There were more voices I liked listening to, though: one of the few things I had gotten from
my mother, was her beautiful voice and her passion for songs and dancing. I loved her voice
– and for quite a long time, I found her voice the only sound that was on par with the tones
my very own voice created. I also held fond memories of certain death screams some of my
victims had produced in desperation, shortly before I’d snatched their life away from them.
So unabashed – so desperate! What a thrill it had been to listen to those kind of voices!

However, all of those voices, shrills and cries didn’t even hold a candle to the single voice
that had one day caught my attention long enough to draw me to her owner’s laughable hotel
and – well, utterly ravish me, capture me, reel me in – hook, line and sinker.

Charlie’s voice was one of its own kind.

There was something – irresistible about it, something so bright, so clear, so earnest, that it
could even hypnotize the hardest of minds, melt the coldest of hearts, soothe the loneliest of
souls. I could listen to Charlie's yapping all day and night and still not get enough of it, still
beg to hear more of it – but when she sang…

Oh dear lord!

Oh dear God in the Heaven above!

Whenever she sang, and it was overheard by me, it was like an invisible force took over
control. I had to drop everything I was doing and quit thinking about whatever possible
thought I had, and simply – go to wherever my beautiful, darling Charlie was. There was this
need within me that urged me to get to her, right away, just get to her, and that was all that
was on my mind, all I could do, until I had finally reached her.

This didn’t necessarily mean that I wanted to smack her against a wall and kiss and usurp
every alluring sound out of my precious lover's mouth whenever she had the guts to sing, but
– well, it did mean I didn’t have any rest until I was at her side. It was almost like some sort
of spell – some form of magic I couldn’t fight. Wouldn’t fight, either: I adored it too much for
that.
Still, this was a rather embarrassing urge I had – needing to hurry over to where Charlie was
whenever she sang out loud – so I was fairly fortunate that didn’t happen all too often.

It… happened now, though.

As I was busy wandering around the hotel, wondering where Charlie would be, my ears
picked up the sweet, irresistible tones I recognized as her dazzling singing voice – and I
stopped dead in my tracks.

“...loneliness has always been a friend of me

I'm leaving my life in your hands
People say I'm crazy and that I am blind
Risking it all in a glance."

It came from the main hall. I didn’t know for certain yet – but my legs most certainly did, as
they automatically started to move in the opposite direction I had been walking in and sped
up, making me sprint through the hallway like a maniac on fire.

"And how you got me blind is still a mystery,

I can't get you out of my head.
Don't care what is written in your history,
As long as you're here with me.”

Oh.

It was a love song.

Oh.

Such…

Such cheesy lyrics!

Oh my goodness – was I sincerely going to run to the main hall like Lucifer himself was
chasing me for a bland love song like that?

“I don’t care
Who you are
Where you’re from
 What you did
As long as you love me!

Who you are

Where you’re from
Don’t care what you did
As long as you love me!”

Well – since I was practically throwing myself against the door of the main hall a couple of
seconds later: yes, yes I was indeed going to do just that.

I vigorously prayed (oh and wasn’t that an ironic thing to do in Hell) that Charlie would at
the very least be all alone, and not in the company of people we both knew well, like, say,
Angel Dust or Husk. Have the two of them watch me dashing towards Charlie like some
love-struck buffoon would be too humiliating for me to overcome, ha ha!

Ha!

…they both would be there, wouldn’t they.

DdD

While Charlie happily sang the lyrics of one of the most cringe-worthy songs I had ever
heard (accompanied by a just as corny music video on the big screen that showed some pretty
white boys fluttering around cute girls), the doors of the main hall were suddenly violently
kicked open – and look who found himself standing in front of the podium all of a sudden,
panting heavily, totally out of breath and looking so wonderfully embarrassed he could
basically sink into the ground out of total and utter shame?

That’s right: the great, big, stinking Radio Demon himself! Apparently, the man liked his
mushy, crappy songs as much as he liked chomping on some gross deer meat!

I grinned widely at the ‘fearsome’ overlord and was about to yell something at him to try and
make the bastard turn even redder than he already was, when a few of the hotel’s other
sinners stormed into the chamber as well, only stopping their hysterical running when they
were right in front of the stage Charlie (still unaware of everything happening in the room,
since she was facing the screen and reading the lyrics) was performing on. There were like a
few of them I kind of recognized, like Eugene, that locust demon that had once tried to flirt
with Charlie (and immediately got scared to death by Alastor for his brave efforts). There
was also this one mysterious and frail hotel guest both Husk and Alastor seemed to know –
what's his name again – Rob or something, I think, and some other pathetic fucking losers.

I blinked with my eyes, looking around the confused group of demons for a little while. Kind
of strange it was only a small portion of the hotel’s sinners, to be honest: I had thought the
ruckus would attract more dipshits to come check the noise out. Also, it was a pretty damn
colorful collection of assholes, I had to say – I didn’t think they even had one thing in
common.

“Huh. Looks like the crowd got a little bit bigger over the past few months,” Husk then
remarked with a mutter, eyeing (a very puzzled-looking) Rob with a sinister twist around his
lips.

I looked his way, confused. “Bigger crowd? What’cha mean?”

“Huh? Oh – of course you wouldn’t know.” Husk made a gesture towards Charlie. “This
happens more often whenever she starts singing: a very select group of demons and sinners
instantly start to gather around her – and they’re only able to leave when the princess stops
singing. I once told her it’s annoying as fuck, so in order to spare my long-suffering mental
state of mind, she doesn’t sing out loud all that often anymore.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, still watching the humble, yet still kind of impressive gathering in front of
the podium. “Let me guess: whenever that happens, Alastor and Eugene are always present,
aren’t they?”

“Yup.” Husk followed my gaze, hissed something under his breath and gave me an awkward
pat on my shoulders. “Oh. Huh. That sucks, Angel.”

I shrugged and looked away, just as Vaggie looked up from the pile of people.

“I have no idea what’cha’re talkin’ about.”

HhH

When the princess’ test song ended, it didn’t take most of the present demons and sinners
long to immediately turn around and scram, hurrying their horny asses out of the main hall as
soon as they could. As they fucking should, with all due respect: Alastor could hide a lot of
things and emotions, but his laughably petty possessiveness over the princess wasn’t one of
them.

Hell, seriously, the very last sing-songy word had just passed Charlie’s lips, and many black
and red voodoo-symbols were already soaring through the room ominously, like those creepy
psycho-magic-shits had been there all along, no problem.

It wasn’t any fucking help for the ambiance, but at least it got rid of most of the hotel’s
sinners. In fact, the only person out of the gathered crowd who wasn’t leaving the main hall
right after Charlie’s performance was Vaggie, who – just like Alastor – made her way up the
podium to see what our hotel’s manager was up to.

Said hotel manager turned around on her heels, her face a bit red from singing, her voice a bit
throaty because of that same reason. Her already sparkling eyes got even more glittery when
Al decided it was about time to once again kindly inform the rest of the people here just who
the princess was dating and be a huge jackass about it (read: he walked up to her and only
allowed her to speak after he was done kissing her silly).

“A-alright – thanks for your… your valuable feedback, Al, I – I think,” Charlie breathed
heavily and tried to compose herself again (while Alastor backed off with this satisfied, shit-
eating smirk on his mug), “…so… ahem… anyway! now that I have confirmed the karaoke
set works, I’d like to tell you what I have in store for next week’s weekend.”

“You’re planning to organize a karaoke night, aren’t you?” Vaggie filled in the blanks,
putting her arms over one another and eying her friend suspiciously. “A karaoke night with
guilty pleasures from the 90s – and don’t you try to deny it, I recognized the Backstreet
Boys’ amazingly awful lyrics immediately. I just had to come in and check to be sure.”

Angel Dust looked like he wanted to reply to that, but he didn’t.

Charlie’s eyes darted around for a little while as she started playing with her long locks of
hair. “Ha ha… well… I was kind of hoping… all of you would try and organize that karaoke
night, for next week’s weekend.”

“What?” I grumbled, scratching my back. “Look, Princess, I’m all for a fun karaoke night,
but why the fuck would you leave something like that to incompetent idiots like us, dammit?
For crying out loud, can you even begin to picture that yellow-teethed freak of nature over
there organizing a cozy karaoke night – and said night not ending in a fucking bloodbath,
with at least one sinner choking in one of the damn CDs?”

Alastor let out a laugh. “Oh I’ll gladly organize an activity that involves both singing and
foolish sinners choking on things too big for their unworthy windpipe – but would someone
care to elaborate on what a karaoke is?”

“I’ll tell you later – but don’t get your hopes up, because you’re not going to be organizing it,
Al,” the princess clarified, “I feel bad – I mean, I really, really wanted to be part of this
karaoke night, I had it in mind for a while now – but you and I have… another party to attend
to, next week’s weekend.”

“Another party?” Alastor cocked his head and quirked an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

Angel Dust clacked his tongue sarcastically. “Sheesh, sugartits – tone down the fuckin’
enthusiasm, it’s fuckin’ killin’ us over here!”

Al creaked his neck towards Angel, his eyes fickering like a red-and-brown warning light.
“Ha ha! Well now! Call her ‘sugartits’ again and I can promise you it won’t be just her
enthusiasm that’s killing you, my dear friend.”

“It’s a fuckin’ compliment – she has some nice tits! I’m an expert on boobs, ya know!” Angel
protested. “Also, am I really yer friend? For real? Holy shitballs, Al — is it ‘cause ya agree
on the greatness of yer lady’s honkers? Well slap me on the ass and call me—”
He shut up right away when Vaggie jabbed an elbow into his side and shook her head at him.
Angel gave her a look I couldn’t place or understand – that’s what you get for binging down
beers since 7 in the morning: you lose your ability to comprehend expressions – but he didn’t
say another thing and just rubbed his side, saving whatever he wanted to say to Vaggie for
later.

Meanwhile, Alastor summarized what that stupid spider demon had meant to say in more
acceptable words.

“Frustratingly annoying or not, the spider wench does have a point, my love – correct me if
I’m wrong, but you indeed don’t seem to be too keen on participating in that other party
you’re speaking about.”

“Yes – that’s because my parents are the ones throwing it, next week’s weekend.” Charlie
sighed, giving some of her blonde locks a firm yank, as she usually did when she was
worried about something. “Come – let’s sit over there for a moment and talk, Al…”

She gave me and the rest of her staff an apologetic grin, took Al by the hand and wordlessly
pulled him behind her, leaving the rest of us behind to gawk at their backs.

I made a face and cursed, while Charlie and Al sat down at the edge of the podium.

Oh. I guess that was something alright: they at the very least stayed around and didn’t
skedaddle out of here, leaving the rest of us on our own – but what the fuck were we
supposed to do now, huh? I couldn’t organize shit! I could barely get myself dressed every
fucking morning – you think that single bow-tie and top hat was a fashion choice?

Well it motherfucking wasn’t!

I was just a fucking drunk idiot!

And a cat!

Drunk cat idiots don’t wear clothes!

Don’t you fucking dare judging me!

Anyways – so now I suddenly had to organize a big-ass karaoke event – and with those two
sexually confused fuckers, too?! They couldn’t even bear to be in the same damn room
thanks to their ill-timed, one-night-stand yesterday night! How was I going to plan anything
with them? I bet I could get more work done with a stick and two fucking pebbles!

And I had none of those!

Just when I was about to blow my top and roar at both Angel Dust and Vaggie to stop acting
all awkward and get me some sticks and pebbles already, Vaggie calmly raised her hand.

“I’ll go check what kind of songs Charlie already has.”

 She didn’t await my answer, but just padded to the karaoke set right away, sitting down in
front of the CD-box that was part of it.

“There are a lot of guilty pleasures to choose from, though. I, um. I could use some help.”

Angel Dust watched her for a quiet moment, gripping his arm with his hand and making
weird faces, before briefly turning his eyes to me.

“She’s so fuckin’ hopeless. I… guess I’ll help her with that, ‘kay?”

I looked on as Vaggie, without saying a word, scooted aside a bit and let Angel sit next to her.
Then I glanced to the other side, where that other weird, bizarre couple was huddled together.
I scowled. Back, backs – all I saw were backs, harsh, cold and uncaring, turned towards me,
shutting me out of a no-doubt romantic-flavored conversation on the left and barring me from
the nonchalant, yet hopeful whispers on the right, too.

I blinked my right eye, then I blinked my left eye.

Eh. Not my best work, could’ve made up something better.

Shows that I should’ve drunk fucking whiskey instead of beer this morning – my depressing
poetic remarks would’ve been so much more agonizing that way.

Oh fuck it. Before I’d wallow in my own self-pity, I’d better try to make myself useful as
well.

Chapter End Notes

Sirens are mythological beings. They have had different appearances throughout the
ages: they were firstly depictured as birds with women’s heads or winged, female
figures with the legs of birds, carrying some sort of instrument (most often a harp). Later
on however, starting from the middle ages, the image of a siren being some sort of
mermaid kind of stuck. Apparently, people liked the image of sirens as women with
shiny fish tails a whole lot better than the image of them being freaky birds with female
heads (and they were right, I saw some pictures and believe me, mermaids are way
easier on the eyes and brain).
Sirens were dangerous, (after the fifthe century) female-only creatures. They possessed a
wonderful ability: they had a singing voice to die for – and I mean that literally. Once a
siren started singing, sailors and other men aboard a ship would get mesmerized by their
sweet, sad and beautiful songs, filled with wonderful promises, and throw themselves
overboard, into the ocean… where the sirens would rip them to pieces and eat them up.
Allegedly.
Sirens weren’t always victorious, though. For example, the legendary Odysseus and his
crew managed to escape a gang of sirens by stuffing their ears with beeswax (Odysseus
himself wanted to listen to the song and ordered his men to tie him to the mast as they
passed the sirens by). It was said that a siren was fated to die if people heard their song
and yet were still able to get away from them, so you can bet the sirens were pretty
bummed out about Odysseus and Co. sailing away from their little group outing.

Ever heard of the term ‘siren song’ by the way? It refers to an appeal that’s incredibly
hard to resist, but if one gives in to it anyway, it will almost always lead to a very bad
conclusion.
 Waiting for Godot
Chapter Summary

Alastor and Charlie have a nice conversation about last night, Charlie's past and the
upcoming party.

Chapter Notes

Have some lovely art, made by MovedMal! It's so pretty! <3 <3 <3

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Alastor and I sat on the edge of the podium and looked out over the big, empty main hall in
front of us… in almost complete silence. I was thinking about how to explain to him what my
parents were expecting of us for next week’s weekend – and I found it hard to just… open my
mouth and talk, for some reason.

I didn’t like talking about my parents. At the moment, I didn’t even like thinking about them
in the first place.

So for a while, the only hearable sounds in this great room were coming from behind us,
where Vaggie and Angel were rummaging through the CD-box and cracking up about some
of the very bad songs they stumbled upon.

I pursed my lips and sighed. I really was pretty bummed out about not being able to join them
in the giddy anticipation for the karaoke night…

“Now now,” Alastor said and gently put his hand on my hand, that was gripping the wooden
edge of the stage. “There’s always next time, my love – you said so yourself, remember? No
use sulking over something you eventually will participate in anyway!”

I glanced aside at him and smiled a bit. I must have been thinking out loud again.

“I know, Al, I know. It’s just – I already had some very awesome songs in mind to sing to my
heart’s content. Thanks to Vaggie, I know more about 80s and 90s music than probably is
necessary for a Hell-born being like me (or anybody, really) and god, you should know just
how many horrible 90s-hits are begging to be sung, loud and proud!”

I turned towards him some more and felt a broad smile appearing on my face.
“Like… like that cheesy boyband-song you heard just now, or a song about a very vain man,
or that funny song about someone who did something wrong again, or even that very
dramatic, over-the-top single that was the soundtrack of a movie about a famous ship, or – oh
my god, maybe even the Macarena-song! With the silly little dance and everything!”

“Those all sound very lovely and I have no idea what you are talking about whatsoever,”
Alastor cheerfully announced – making his invisible radio audience snicker in agreement.

I smirked. “Oh don’t you worry, Al. I have thought about some songs you could sing as well!
Like Lou Bega’s one-hit-wonder, or something by Phil Collins, or – wait, oh god, or that one
guilty pleasure hit from Haddaway. Or that ridiculous hit from Right Said Fred! Gaah! Oh
geez – hearing you sing that song, now that would crack me up!”

“I… again, I don’t know any of these men or their songs,” Al sourly remarked, as he watched
me squeal and wiggle around, trying to stifle my giggles. “Do keep in mind I’m not as
modern nor as ‘hip’ as you are, my dear.”

Aww. It was kind of cute he thought songs from the 90s were ‘hip’.

I waited until the obligatory “but at least I’m centuries younger than you are, grandmother
Charlotte har de har”-comment would follow, but, to my surprise, it didn’t. Grateful for that
little mercy, I smiled some more and subtly moved myself a bit closer to Alastor, pushing my
leg against him as I squished my face against his shoulder (and yes, that's right, I'm about as
subtle as a kick in the rear).

“That's alright Al, don't sweat it. I’ll help you out, I promise,” I told him, nuzzling his arm.

He lifted his hand from mine, wordlessly gave me permission to sit a little closer to him, and
sneaked an arm around me. While I in turn used the new position to wind my own arms
around his torso and closed my eyes for a bit, I felt him pressing a kiss on top of my head.

“I'm looking forward to it. You helping me out with songs, perhaps even singing some of
them with me – now that would be simply delightful. Thank you in advance for your
assistance, my love.”

“Oh no, don’t thank me.” My eyes popped open again and I glanced up at him, beaming from
ear to ear. “It’d be my pleasure!”

“Yes, well… speaking about pleasure…” Alastor cleared his throat, as if something was stuck
in it, and tapped his hand’s digits against my arm. Then he casually started tracing them up-
and downwards in an awkward manner, his fingers gliding over the fabric of my shirt.
“How… well, how are you doing?”

“I’m doing fine! And I did quite some work today as well! I managed to do a lot of
administration this morning, I checked the stockroom to see if we still have enough of
snacks, party supplies and detergents (don’t worry, they’re not stored right next to one
another, ha ha), and then I went to fetch the karaoke set from the basement.”

“Oh! How lovely!” Al laughed, his voice cracking.

“Hm-hm!” I smiled. “But that’s not what you really meant, is it?”

He looked away. “No. I was talking about your – body.”

“My body?”

“Your body.”

“What about my body, Al?”

Alastor started making funny, squeaky sounds as he tried to answer my question, while his
audience chuckled and whistled, urging him to speak up.

I gripped him a bit more tightly and looked up at him again, this time with a deceivingly
gullible, questioning smile. Of course I knew what he was talking about – heck, I already
knew what he was going to ask me when he put the emphasis on pleasure. But I liked to
fluster him, to catch him off guard – and I liked to watch him squirm and try his best to ask
me something he felt even more weird to talk about than I did.

Also, I was freaking sore down there.

“Is it – well.” He eyed me uncomfortably and his eyebrows did something that almost made
it look like he frowned. “Does it…”

“Yeeees…?” I bat my eyelashes at him.

He swallowed. “Did I…”

“Hmmmm…?”

“You walk very strangely today.” He enclosed his hand around my upper arm and gave me a
soft, apologizing squeeze. “You must be hurting. I apologize.”

Right away, my flirty attitude was tossed out of the window and I blushed fiercely as I felt the
weight of his apology. I had expected him to sputter and be adorably awkward, not to actually
feel bad about what had happened yesterday night!

“I-it’s okay, Al, it’s fine!” I hastily said. “I mean – sure, I’m a bit sensitive and it’s been a
while since the last time I have been… uhm… w-well, y-you know…”

“Since you’ve been – what, Charlie?”

Now it was me who felt like dying a little inside and I pressed my burning face against the
red fabric of his neat dress shirt, mumbling the rest.

“Since I’ve been… t-that thoroughly…”

Oh my god, I knew the man was as dense as a brick when it was about sexual things and I
knew he told me I needed to be more explicit, but did I really have to say it out loud? Did I
really have to— waaaaaaait a minute.
I suddenly jerked my face up and stared right into his smirking face, his mocking and
overbearing smile stretched out so widely I momentarily feared he might actually rip the
corners of his mouth open.

“You slimy jerk,” I growled lowly, while Al finally burst into laughter and evaded my
swishing hands, “you acted all insecure and worried on purpose, didn’t you! Just to make me
say something really embarrassing!”

“My oh my, what is that – do you hear that?” Al extravagantly said, effortlessly plucking my
hand out of mid-air and folding his claws around my fingers, “it sounds like… my, that
sounds like the pot, calling the kettle black! Ha! My dear princess, two can play the
humiliation game!”

Since I couldn’t smack him anymore – if I even ever could – I stopped trying and just settled
for pouting at him, like, really huffily. “You nasty trickster. I’ll get you back for that.”

He didn’t say anything and his smile shrunk. Then he took hold of my chin, tilting my face
up as he studied it carefully.

“Don’t move around too much if it’s too much or too painful for you – your discomfort is
partly my fault and I take full responsibility for everything you’re not able to do.”

“Al,” I muttered. “Seriously – it really isn’t that bad, you know…”

“I know – and I also realize you’re a very diligent worker. And incredibly stubborn in your
ways. However – let me have this. Let me take care of you, my beautiful sweetheart.
Alright?”

Blinking and getting all warm and fuzzy inside, I nodded a bit.

“O-okay.”

His gaze focused itself on my lips. “Will a kiss make you feel better?”

I slowly sat up some more, to quietly yet very helpfully shorten the distance between our
faces, and put my arms around his neck.

“You always make me feel better, Al.”

I could have sworn his face felt a little bit hotter when he leaned forward and impatiently
mushed our lips together. It made me smile and I interlocked my fingers behind his neck,
relishing in his tender, careful touch.

He could be such an adorable worrywart…

CcC

After the kiss, Alastor suddenly pinched my cheeks and told me it was about time I told him
about that alleged party at my parents’ place, next week’s weekend. I gave in to his request –
since I felt lighter and less conflicted after kissing and talking about sweet nothings with Al –
and told him that I had spoken with my mother earlier today. On the phone, naturally.

“Well, that’s great news!” Al cheered, rewarding me with a pat on the shoulder. “And what
did your darling mother say? How did she react when she finally heard your voice again,
after… what, four weeks, a month and a bit?”

I gnawed on my lower lip, rubbing over my tender cheek. “She – choked up a bit. She
sounded really happy, especially for someone as stone-faced as she is, and she told me she
had been hoping to hear something from me. She explained she hadn’t been able to reach my
phone, for some reason. I didn’t have the guts to tell her I had blocked her and dad’s
number.”

“I’m sorry, what do you mean with… ‘blocked’ their number?”

“People can’t call you once you’ve blocked their number. You forcefully ignore them – pretty
literally. They sometimes never even find out.”

“So the Queen didn’t know—”

“Yes she knew. Of course she knew, Al. She’s not that... antiquated.” I sighed. “Not that mom
would ever admit that she knew I had blocked her – she’s too prideful for that.”

Alastor hummed. “So what did she say?”

“I don’t know.”

“You… don’t know?”

I groaned. “No, because before mom and I could actually start our conversation, dad was
already being annoying somewhere in the background, screeching ‘is that our little apple
beignet, my Brutal Temptress of Fate?’ – and then he yanked the phone out of mom’s hands
and burst into tears when he heard me coldly tell him that he was a total dillhole for
disrupting my and mom’s phone call like that. And then he was suddenly sobbing that it had
been ‘way too long’ since the last time the ‘beloved fruit’ of his and my mother’s ‘fiery loins’
had cussed at him and his entire being so ‘passionately’.”

“You father really needs to get into the entertainment business,” Alastor said.

“My father really needs to act like one – like an actual father, I mean.” I looked down, at my
hands, lying in my lap. “I know it’s part of his larger-than-life personality, but really – it’s
stuff like this that makes me think he just doesn’t take me, his only child, seriously. Think
about it: they haven’t heard from me in weeks, and all he does when I finally do make a call
is shout stupid, meaningless words at me!”

“You said he also cried when he heard it was you,” Al pointed out.

I hand-waved it away. “My dad cries at the drop of a hat. He once stubbed his toe on one of
my plushies and was inconsolable for hours. He felt better after burning all of my stuffed
animals a while later, though.”

“Oh my,” was all Alastor could say to that.

I breathed in deeply. “Anyway… dad was blabbering all kinds of things and I didn’t really
comprehend him, but it kind of came down to him being so over the moon happy with my
surprise call, that he was going to throw a party for that occasion alone. He barely managed
to invite me and ‘that manipulative bag of dickweed’ (which is you, just in case you didn’t
get that) for this wonderful social gathering next week’s weekend, before the phone on his
side of the line couldn’t handle all of his extraness anymore and the connection was severed.”

Alastor gave me a somewhat bewildered, yet highly amused look. “So let me get this straight,
Charlie… your parents are throwing a celebration party… because you made a call to them?”

I shrugged. “Pretty much.”

“Good lord! No wonder you’re always able to keep up with my energetic, highly
unpredictable behavior – you’re used to dear old Lucifer’s crazy, enlightening antics, after all!
The good Light-Bringer himself!”

Alastor was about to laugh out loud once more, but he thankfully changed his mind as soon
as he glanced aside and saw me pulling up one of my legs and putting my head on top of a
knee, letting out a bitter, depressed sigh.

I heard him calm down and heave a sigh as well. He laid a hand on my back and was quiet
for a little while, probably because he was thinking about what to say to me next.

“Are we actually going to your parents’ party, Charlie?” he eventually asked. His fingers
lightly massaged the curved figure of my back. “Hmm? Talk to me, my dear.”

“I…” I started, staring into the big, deserted main hall lying in front of the podium, “I’m not
sure. I really don’t want to go, to be honest. Like… at all. Have you ever been to one of my
parents’ parties?”

“I can’t say I have, no. Sadly, the thought of inviting the ever-charming Radio Demon to one
of their infamous festivities never even crossed your parents’ mind, I even dare to say!”

“Well – don’t be too sad about it, because it’s not like they are any fun anyway,” I said. “The
festivities at my parents’ place always end in a… dull kind of chaos. There’s a guest list, but
dad also likes to randomly invite unsuspecting sinners to his parties, just to mock and ridicule
them. Some of these poor souls then get missing, others turn up days later, heavily
traumatized… there’s no music, no dance – just loads of food, drinks, clumps of certain
demon-groups jumbling together and a lot of gossip from Hell’s most influential and hard-ass
overlords and sleazeballs. It’s awful.”

“It certainly sounds awful,” Alastor agreed. “No music, no dance, only annoying tattletales to
listen to… what a farce! Did you participate in many of these blasphemously boring parties?”
I hugged my leg some more. “More than enough of them, especially when I was a bit
younger and was made to believe these kind of parties were part of being a member of the
Royal Family. I remember feeling lonely and gawked at as I anxiously shuffled around the
big chamber and tried to see a friendly face that would help me find some refuge during these
gatherings. All those little groups thrown together in the Royal Hall… maybe I was wrong,
but it felt like they were always stopping their chatter whenever I was nearby. I was a topic
sinners loved talking a about, I was… discussed a lot. I was a strange princess, after all: I
wasn’t like my parents at all. Too softhearted, too sheltered, too naïve, too weak… They
laughed at me, I’m sure. But my parents said it was good for me to join these parties as much
as possible, to try to get to know the more important inhabitants of Hell. Dad said it would
teach me to handle demons and sinners that talked shit about me behind my back. So, I was
forced to… adjust myself to the situation, time after time.”

“Well it worked, didn’t it?” Alastor effortlessly pried my face loose from my leg and turned it
his way once more. “Even if it was the hard way, your parents did teach you how to handle
the worthless scumbags of Hell – I saw so for myself, when you were in that picture show
with that dreadful Katie Killjoy-crone. You fought back when she started to drag you through
the mud. You didn’t only defend yourself and stood up for what you believe in, but you
showed her what you were made of. The insults that got thrown at you may have hurt you,
perhaps even scarred you, in some ways – but they never broke you. You’re too strong of a
person for that.”

That got a small, thankful smile out of me. “Thanks Al. Hearing you say that means a lot to
me. I – guess you’re right about my… Spartan upbringing. It did teach me how to deal with
annoying people. And yeah, it did make me stronger, in some ways.”

Alastor watched as my eyes began to drift away from his. “Ah. You’re going to say ‘but’,
aren’t you?”

“But,” I indeed said, “I’m done learning. I’m done… being strong, trying to make my mom
and dad feel proud of me. Now that I’m living on my own, away from their influences,
opinions and teachings, I feel like I can actually say ‘no’ to them and the hollow, pointless
parties and social gatherings they want me to attend. Not because I think I can’t live up to
their expectations, but because I just don’t want to feel bad afterwards anymore.”

“So that’s what you’re anxious about,” Alastor said, musing. “You fear the party will be a
huge disappointment, and the mere thought of it alone is enough to cripple you with sadness
and dread.”

I let out an empty laugh. “That’s a bit too strongly-put, maybe, but… yeah, I do feel… a bit
down about the prospect of going to a party I’m sure I won’t enjoy.”

“Well that just won’t do!”

Without giving me any warning, Al suddenly scooped me up in his arms, twisted me around
and determinedly sat me down in his lap with a dry plop, my face looking up at his as he
blatantly reveled in having my full, flabbergasted attention.
“Now then,” he said, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me even closer, “about that
party of your hilariously short-sighted parents… let me promise you some things, my love: I
will personally make sure that it’s going to be an absolute wonderful party. You and I – we’ll
have fun, we’ll dance and we’ll laugh, and there won’t be any annoying sinners around to
worry your beautiful blonde head about.”

I put my hands on his shoulders, pushed him back a bit and gave him a doubtful look. “How?
Are you going to call them up and make them throw an actual fun party?”

He grinned his sharp teeth bare. “I might do something like that, yes.”

“You do realize my parents are the most powerful beings in Hell and will completely ignore
you at best, right?”

“Oh ho, I wouldn’t say that. I can be quite persuasive when I want to be. Especially when it’s
about your well-being, you charming little thing.” He wound a finger around one of my
suspenders and gave them a sharp pull, drawing me in close enough to steal a kiss from my
half-opened lips. It took me by surprise and he withdrew before I could answer the kiss.

“You…” I murmured, hesitantly running the tip of my tongue over my slightly-moist lips.
“You really think they will listen to you?”

“I will make my point very clear. Not just to the King and Queen of Hell, but to you, too.”

“To me?”

“You’ve been a bit out of it lately, Charlie. Your eyes have lost quite a bit of their usual
radiance.”

I didn’t reply – I just sat there, my brows furrowed in a slightly nervous frown.

He smiled a small, almost modest smile. “It’s alright, my love. I’m sure that there are many
questions and thoughts about many, many subjects burdening your mind and heart – most of
them probably because of things that are out of your reach. Fearing to meet up with your
parents once again, knowing about my current cursed state and being actively aware that I
have certain secrets I keep away from you… it’s taking its toll on you, isn’t it?”

I still didn’t reply, but I did watch him closely, knowing that my eyes gave away my
astonishment.

So he knew. He knew I knew.

And he knew I knew he didn’t want me to know – whatever he was hiding from me.

“I will tell you.” Al cupped my face, his hands warm to the touch as he softly put them on my
cheeks, his thumbs swiping something wet away from the corners of my eyes. “I... need some
more time – I always need more time, for some reason – but please, love of my life. Please
bear with me and believe me when I tell you I will speak up about everything you need to
know. Let that be a consolation to all of your fears and confused sadness. After all, you mean
the world to me – and if you let me, I will spend the rest of the time I’m allowed to be at your
side to cheer you up and cheer you on.”

I laughed, weakly and shakily, as I let him press a few kisses to my face, my hands fixedly
holding on to the front of his informal, red button-down… garment.

“Y-you've always had a way with words.”

“Ah, well.” He noticed something trickling from my left eye and put his lips to the wet trail.
“I was a radio host, after all…”

My lips squeezed themselves together until there was nothing left of them but a firm, albeit
shaky, straight line. Sighing, I closed my eyes and sat as still as possible while he took care of
any stupid teardrop that attempted to roll down my face. It was kind of amazing he could be
gentle like this, could literally kiss my tears away, kindly tilting, turning and caressing my
face with subtle movements. I breathed in and out as softly as I could. If somebody had told
me about Alastor’s tender, caring side half a year ago, let alone that I would eventually end
up as his (very first) lover, I would’ve thought they were absolutely insane.

Had I, or my love for him, drawn this side out of him? This friendly, compassionate, loving
side of his he these days didn’t even feel embarrassed about showing it to others anymore?

And if that was the case – could I, with patience and some sweet encouragement, draw even
more out of him?

Would he ever trust me enough for that to happen?

“One thing,” I heard myself utter.

Alastor made an encouraging noise, something that buzzed in the back of his throat, and he
placed a kiss near my mouth.

I gulped and although my eyes already were closed, I screwed them shut even more
insistently.

“Please just – just tell me one thing you have yet to tell me.”

“I’m asexual,” Alastor replied right away.

My eyes popped open again and I stared at him, baffled.

“I – only recently found out,” he quickly began to explain, as he finally pulled back. “Very
recently. I… apparently, that’s the main reason why I’m not as enthusiastic about having
sexual intercourse as most men. No, wait – that’s not fair of me to say – as most… non-
asexual people. Hence my lack of interest in most of the cases in which copulation is
involved.”

“I see,” I said.
He moved his head up and down, nodding – and still looking just a tad uncertain. Then, when
he realized I wasn’t going to say anything else, he hastily opened his mouth again and
hysterically rambled on about how he was aware of the fact this must be ‘very surprising’ for
me to hear and that he would understand if I needed some time to get ‘used’ to this news, and
that this didn’t mean he didn’t want to have sex with me anymore, but just that he was
‘different than me’ when it was about sex, and that he also knew that it probably was very
‘strange’ and ‘not relatable’ for someone like me, who wholeheartedly liked sex and ‘was
always up for it, no matter what day or time it was’… and then he fell silent and made this
‘well shit’-face, instantly apologizing to me for suggesting I always craved sex, and then he
looked down and muttered he wasn’t sure what he should say now and that it probably was
my turn to say something already, before he accidentally said more stupid things.

I chuckled, placed my hands on the side of his face and lifted it up – it felt kind of nice to be
the one to actually do the head-tilting for once – and gave Alastor a comforting grin, one that
surpassed his wavering one with ease.

“You’re such a disastrous mess of a man,” I giggled, squeezing his slightly-less-gray cheeks
in-between my hands. “You dork. You really thought I would mind you being asexual? I love
you, you love me – and that’s all that really matters to me. Who cares about sexuality when
we at the very least know this much about one another?”

Both of his eyes lit up a little – before dimming down almost right after. His bigger, pointier
fingers slithered themselves around my wrists.

“Wait a minute. That reaction. Don’t tell me… you knew already, didn’t you?”

He gave me such a disgruntled stare that it made me snort. “Al – oh sweetie, I don’t want to
burst your bubble, but I think you were the only one in Hell who didn’t realize it yet,
darling.”

“I didn’t.” Alastor plucked my hands off his face and held them in his own. His large, thin
hands clumsily fidgeted with my smaller, paler ones and I could feel his conflicted emotions,
bundling together and falling over one another, as he was unable to say anything more.

I smiled a bit wider, bent my head forwards and lightly bumped my forehead against his.

“Telling me this wasn’t easy for the proud, confident Radio Demon, was it?”

He didn’t respond.

I rubbed my forehead to his in a teasing, yet reassuring way.

“But you told me anyway.”

A low hum.

“I appreciate that, Al.” I moved my face upwards and let my lips connect to his skin, right on
the red cross in-between his eyes. “Thank you. I – needed that trust.”

“Will that do, then?”

 “…what?”

Al abruptly raised his face at that, more or less forcing me to back off a little as he beamed a
grin at me that was ten times stronger than this same smile was just two minutes ago. I
gasped, looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights as he clasped my hands painfully tight.
His smile – I swear, if his teeth weren’t as yellow as they were, the eerie, overwhelming
brightness of his smile would have been positively blinding.

“Now that I have told you one thing that I had yet to tell you – will you let me try and make
that promise I made to you come true? Will you trust my word and allow the both of us to go
visit your parents’ party and enjoy it to our fullest, Charlie dear?”

Feeling my jaw dropping, I fruitlessly tried to get a grip on the situation before answering
him.

It…

It could be so tiresome to keep up with Alastor and his many incomprehensible mood swings,
to try and keep tabs on what kind of remarks hurt him, what kind of words humored him,
what kind of things were his weak spots and what was and always had been a play, a trick, a
well-planned scheme from the get-go.

But during the last hour, he had showed me more empathy and vulnerability than he had ever
done – maybe even more than he had actually planned on showing me.

No matter how insistent his overbearing smile.

No matter what kind of grandiose plan was going on behind the curtains of those huge,
mismatched eyes of his.

No matter how much he liked to have full control over things.

And knowing this much was enough for me to let my lips curl up in a toothy grin and nod my
head.

“Alright, Al… I’ll trust you!”

Chapter End Notes

Vladimir (‘Didi’) and Estragon (‘Gogo’) meet perchance near a leafless tree. The two
men don’t know each other and they have nothing in common, except for one little
thing: they both wait for somebody named Godot. Funnily enough, they don’t know who
this Godot-person is – are they male? Female? Are they God? The Devil? They don’t
know, they only know that they are waiting for this person and Godot seems to be taking
their sweet time.
While Didi and Gogo wait and talk (a lot), three different characters pass by, each with
their own strange stories and dialogues, while the two men just keep on standing by that
tree, waiting for Godot to show up. At a certain moment, they are told by a boy that
Godot will meet up with them tomorrow… but the next day, Godot doesn’t arrive either!
The fed-up men even start to contemplate suicide – this is just how desperate they’ve
become at this point – but at the end of the story, they both are still standing there, near
the leafless tree, talking and waiting for Godot.

It was the playwright Samuel Beckett (1906-1989) who made up this bizarre,
tragicomedic two-acts-play about two unassuming characters, helplessly waiting for a
person who doesn’t show up. There are many social, political and religious
interpretations you could tie to this story (and believe me, people HAVE), but in the end,
it’s really only these two men on the stage that are talking. Nothing else really happens –
it’s just a lot of dialogue and a lot of information the watcher should interpret as they
wish.
 Cyrano de Bergerac
Chapter Summary

Hakim finds out something unsettling about himself... and his feelings.

Chapter Notes

Charlie's therapy session in this chapter is based on the first few chapters of the selfhelp-
book "Handboek voor het bouwen van je eigen luchtkasteel" ("A Blueprint for your
Castle in the Clouds") the Dutch Barbara Sophia Tammes wrote. I got this book to help
kids that have a really low self-esteem getting a better view on themselves. But mind
you, the book's certainly not especially for kids/teenagers. There is an English and
Italian version of the book as well, as far as I can tell. So if you're interested - just look
up the author!^^

See the end of the chapter for more notes

By the time I had realized just how astonishingly deep I had fallen, hurriedly coming back
from that point was no long a reasonable, nay, do-able option.

Perhaps I should have seen this coming. Looking back, all the signs were there. I could have
seen them. But I did not see them. Refused to see them, in all likeliness. I did not seem to
understand that even an unmovable Angelic being like me could fall prey to one of
humankind’s most ridiculous, most nerve-wrecking, most untamable emotions and feelings.

It was all her fault, naturally.

But it was her.

And because it was her, I could not even be mad.

BbB

While being in her presence, I had felt soft, tender jolts and sparks shooting through me more
often ever since first meeting Princess Charlotte. None too demanding, these alien, unsettling
aches could easily be ignored.

But it was during our third or fourth therapy session that my heart actually skipped a beat and
made me temporarily lose my breath, for the first time.
“I need you to make up your own imaginary castle,” Princess Charlotte had instructed me on
that fateful day. There was a kind smile gracing her facial features and even though I could
tell she was doing the best she could to stay calm and professional, the woman clearly was
very excited about this new exercise she was going to let me try out.

“Make up an imaginary castle,” I parroted.

“Yeah!”

“Why?”

“Well – everybody needs an imaginary castle ever once in a while, don’t you agree?” The
princess put the tips of her fingers together, smiling clumsily. “A safe, warm place you can
sometimes retreat into, when the going gets tough. A place that feels like home. Where you
and you alone can do whatever you want to do, without anybody else around to critique you.”

“I am listening,” I said, mildly intrigued.

She went on: “You see, you don’t need to wait for a building permit in order to build your
imaginary castle. You don’t need a real estate agent either – all that you need is your own
imagination. That way, you can make your castle as big and spacious as you want. Or not –
you can make it small and cozy, too, if that’s what you like. You don’t have to worry about
finishing your castle within a certain amount of time: your imagination is yours only, after all,
and you don’t need to force your castle into completion. Your thoughts may be different
tomorrow, and that, too, is okay. You can change your imaginary castle as much as you want,
however you want. It’s all up to you.”

I raised a hand. “Question.”

“Yes?”

“Why would I need to do this?” I felt a frown forming in my forehead. “This all sounds very
lovely and… quaint, but I do not see the need to do something like that. I am a grown man. I
do not need some sort of… daydream-crashcourse in order to feel accomplished.”

“Daydreaming isn’t childish, Bob. And fantasy… it could be the beginning of reality. The
more you fantasize about things you find important, the bigger the chance is you’ll want to
step up and try to strive for that dream you have.” The demonic princess leaned further
towards me, the old sofa underneath her groaning a bit. “Really though: making up your own
make-believe castle is to arrange your inner thoughts! You can be the architect of your own
mind. With your very own imagination, you’ll create a place with different rooms and
chambers to – look at yourself a bit less… heavily. That way, your imaginary castle will be
the most wonderful place to meet yourself in. I think the inside of your head should be one of
your most favorite places to visit. So do your best to make it look good!”

I did not know whether it was because of her sunny disposition, her gleeful enthusiasm or
because I simply wanted to believe her, but I found myself being drawn to her words
nevertheless.
Hesitantly, I cast my eyes downwards, to the large, blank piece of paper that was lying on the
table in front of me. There were a whole bunch of colored pencils and crayons lying next to
it, all neatly arranged. I was no creative being whatsoever – though the need to take one of
the vividly colored pencils in hand and start sketching began to play up.

“I… I do not have a big imagination, I am afraid,” I confessed with a slight stammer. “I am
not sure how to begin.”

“That’s okay! Give your imagination some space. Don’t be too hard on yourself – and don’t
waste your energy trying to fight your reality, as you give your castle its shapes and forms,”
the princess advised, as she moved her seating closer to the table. “Use that energy instead to
look at your reality from a whole other point of view. High above yourself, from the best and
most beautiful place you can imagine, where you can be the ultimate ‘you’: your imaginary
castle. That’s right, the one you are going to create here! Look at yourself and your reality as
you gaze out of the window of that safe haven of yours – and you’ll know what your
imaginary castle looks like.”

“High above myself?” I gave her a skeptical look. “So it is a flying imaginary castle, now?”

She blinked and blushed a little, before recovering herself and grinning broadly. “I believe it
is, yes!”

“Why?”

“Sometimes, you just got to believe in something in order to see it. Know what I mean?” The
blonde princess patted the paper with one of her small hands.

“I believe so,” I nodded, as I took a random pencil and put it down on the paper, drawing the
very first line – the indigo-colored foundation of this silly, yet irresistible imaginary, floaty
castle the princess was talking about.

It became a very crude drawing. Like I had said before, I was no artist: my lines, shapes and
colors were all over the paper lying on that table. I had no plan in mind, no idea what I was
doing. And yet – it felt good. Liberating, even. It felt like I was putting my thoughts, my
feelings and my well-hidden emotions down on that patient, no-longer blank poster – and
Lord had I been wanting to let all of that out for a long time.

The princess looked on in silence, I could tell every time I glanced at her from the corners of
my eyes. She was smiling and her eyes were darting over my scribbles like she had never
seen such a masterwork before. I felt a bit naked and vulnerable, to be honest – like I was
throwing my inner self out here, on the paper, for her to judge and frown at. Though Princess
Charlotte did not judge and she did not frown. She simply watched me draw.

When I stopped drawing for a bit, the princess came off her sofa and stood next to the chair
on which I was sitting. Her hand carefully landed on my shoulder and her hair smoothly
glided off her shoulder as she bent her head towards the paper and asked me if I felt like
telling her what it was I had drawn.

I remember telling her.

I remember telling her a lot.

However, I cannot remember what it was I told her.

Because she was touching me, and I could smell her scent, and that is when everything
started to fall apart in my head, only to be build up over the course of the next few hours.

It was the begin of something I had never experienced before.

BbB

Now, if that specific therapy session had not convinced me yet, what happened later that day
very much did: I had heard the fair princess singing a song.

It – was not a very good song, hearing and understanding the gooey, none-too-interesting
lyrics. But it was sung by her, by Princess Charlotte, and before I could even realize what was
happening to me, I found myself standing up and rushing myself into the main hall, with at
least ten to fifteen other, just as confused creatures surrounding me. I did not personally know
many sinners – I never bothered to seek contact with anybody here, since I was fairly sure
socializing with sinners would not help me growing my wings back any faster – but I did
recognize a few of them.

Like Alastor, for instance. Of course he would come to his beloved as soon as she would start
singing. It was only natural the beautiful singing voice of such a pure and yet still quite
demonic creature would attract her lover.

But that begs the question: why had all of these other sinners come to her as well?

Why had I showed up as well?

I did not have much time to think it through as I was there – Alastor made sure to drive all of
us off as soon as the princess’ song had ended – but I had a dark suspicion. It was a suspicion
I bravely tried to shake off me, get it out of my thoughts, shoo it off in the days that followed,
but… to no avail.

I had to accept it.

I, an aloof Angel that had come from the Heavens above, had fallen in love with the sweet
Princess of Hell.

Oh, the irony.

BbB

I had no desire to win Princess Charlotte over. Not in the least.

The princess was in love with Alastor.

It was that simple.

That painfully simple.

I could not hold a candle to him.

Not only because he was an enigmatic, charismatic bastard that constantly had me strung up
in the entrance hall, and not just because he had played his cards well and knew exactly what
he was doing, even with a deadly spell in his body that was slowly killing him from the
inside, either.

No.

It was mosty because he was changing.

Since Alastor had – more or less – pressured me into do some research, in order to try and
find a way to rid him of the Mark of the Fallen I had given him, I had started paying more
attention to him.

I had understood from conversations I sometimes picked up from the hotel’s inhabitants that
Alastor used to be more like a pesky, clownish terrorist to Princess Charlotte and her staff
than anything else. He had even managed to (in)directly kill a few of the residents in the
beginning of their partnership, simply because he was bored or did not have anything
entertaining to do. He would often disappear out of the hotel and only return hours later,
drenched in blood and wearing a sick, maniacal grin, refusing to tell anybody what he had
done. Not even the princess herself, because at that point, he most likely saw her as a cute,
dumb little plaything he could slowly but surely corrupt.

But then he discovered she had a library she often retreated herself into, when things in the
hotel got too much for the princess to keep up with. And since he just did not allow the poor
girl to be alone for a little while - not even for a single hour – he insisted on joining her in
that room.

They presumably got to know each other a lot better in the quietness of the old, charming
library and Alastor, much to his own horror I believe, hopelessly fell in love with the one
person that resembled everything he was not.

He started doing things that would please her, that would make her like him even more: he
would try and get sinners to get parts of themselves redeemed, to get them a little closer to
Heaven. Admittedly, he did a very good job at that: many sinners in the hotel had their bodies
partly reshaped – even he himself. I had never seen him before waking up in that cold
dungeon, but according to the sinners in the hotel, Alastor was almost completely human by
the time I had been instructed to test and collect him.

Naturally, almost all of that was reversed as soon as his true intentions had come to light.
Karma is unforgiving like that.
Alastor had not tried to better himself and others for Princess Charlotte’s sake, but for his
own - and this should be interpreted in the worst way possible.

He wanted the princess in Heaven, because he believed that that was a better place for her.

End of story. It did not even matter to him what she herself would think of that selfish plan.

Truly, it was a horrible plan, even if I had to agree with him that she was too good for a place
like Hell. However, here I was, stuck in Hell with broken wings, having no other choice but
to dance to Alastor’s suicidal rhythm and help him with getting Princess Charlotte into
Heaven.

At the end of the day, Alastor was nothing but an unredeemable sinner, one that would never
make it to Heaven. Ever.

But he was changing.

Even now that he knew just how much he had to sacrifice to send his lover to Paradise, he
was still changing.

These last few weeks, I had seen him getting along better with the other staff members of the
hotel. Not just Princess Charlotte, but the other people working in the hotel as well.

I had spotted him chatting away with the moth lady, the ladybug girl and the spider creature a
while ago. They were enthusiastically discussing something about a karaoke night – what on
earth was a karaoke night? – and while they usually greeted the Radio Demon with wary eyes
and defensive stances, they seemed more... appreciative of him now. They all agreed on
something. I was not sure what that was, but it was clear they had all reached a very
satisfying conclusion that everybody was happy about.

I had also noticed the grumpy cat alcoholic spend more time with Alastor these days, almost
as if he was worried about him and did not want him to be alone. I was fairly sure Alastor
knew his friend was concerned about him, because he noticeably mellowed down whenever
the two of them were together. However, they seemingly never spoke a word about what was
going on with the deer demon.

But other than that – other than his attitude being a lot more pleasant towards the people
working at the hotel, his manners had become more acceptable and perhaps even friendlier
towards the hotel’s sinners he loathed so much, too.

For starters, according to the rumors, he had not murdered anybody in months now (except
for that one time he ‘fought and - presumably! - killed an Angel and lived to tell’).

He also actually had tasks he needed to do nowadays, and he did those tasks obediently, even
if he clearly did not feel like doing them. These were tasks like preparing breakfast and
running the hotel on Sundays, making sure the staff members were doing what they were
supposed to do and promoting the library. I had heard he was even trying to become a
therapist himself as well... but that tall story obviously was nothing but an urban myth, that
mindlessly floated around the hotel's halls.
Furthermore, talking about halls - it had come to my attention that sometimes, the hotel’s
tenants hesitantly greeted Alastor when they passed him by in the hallways. It was hurriedly,
and one could easily claim they only greeted him to avoid getting on his wrong side, but –
these were sinners with some of their body parts being reformed.

They were genuinely grateful he had brought them closer to Heaven.

They knew he had changed. That he could change.

He may only have been changing for the sake of his plan – but he indeed, unwittingly, had
become a slightly more acceptable, more bearable soul in the process. Despite of his own
pains, fears and worries.

No matter how big of an absolute tool the man was, that mindset was admirable.

I did not have that mindset.

I had not changed for anything or anybody, not even myself.

That was why I was no match for him.

That was why I needed to save him.

BbB

It was about time I informed Alastor about the results my frantic researching of the past days
had rewarded me with.

That is correct: I had been diligently searching for a cure to Alastor’s painful curse. I had
read many books in the library – it was astonishing just how many incredible and rare
sources of knowledge that chamber held! – and I had even let the crazy ladybug cleaning lady
teach me how to use the ‘internets’, to look further on those ‘sites’ as well.

“Wait are you telling me that you didn’t have internet when you were still alive?” the girl had
rambled when I had – awkwardly – asked her to help me out with this shiny ‘PC’ I had found
in the workspace of the library.

“No, I did not,” I truthfully answered her.

“Also FYI this is not my PC by the way and this is certainly not the place where I either
secretly listen in on Al and Charlie making out in the boring book room or write all of my
smutty fanfics about RadioDust or AngelHusk or Alastor4All and post them anonymously
online hahahahahaha.”

“What are those strange, foreign words you spout,” I asked.

She cackled nervously as she turned the machinery on. “Never mind those!!!! Anyways
whoa, so you haven’t used the internet before??? But it’s like the modern times and stuffs
now, internet’s all over the place you really should like know all about the internet if you just
recently died to be honest hahaha unless you were a sexy monk living underneath a rock or
something in real life wait were you?????? Were you a sexy rock-loving monk Bob?????”

“Something like that.”

“Aren’t monk’s supposed to be BOLD tough???? I mean no offense but you have like this
really nice hair all flowy and blonde just like Charlie’s almost like you’re an Angel or
something I mean she is half an Angel after all and genuinely blonde hair’s kinda rare in Hell
haha so yeah,” she rattled on.

“Would you please just teach me about using the internets,” I simply begged her, already
exasperated even though I had only been talking with her for three minutes.

Fortunately, aside from being a motor mouth that speaks about the most obscure topics, the
ladybug demon – Niffty her name was, if I recalled correctly – proved to be a better teacher
than she appeared to be. Within a single day, she had taught me all about looking up
information in various digital ways, from various – and sometimes questionable – origins…
and she decided to show me lots and lots of sites with pornographic content as well. For some
reason.

“I did not ask for erotica,” I sternly told Niffty.

“No - but there you go anyway!” She winked at me, which looked quite weird since she only
had one massive eyeball. “Boys will be boys after all.”

“I want to leave this vale of tears.”

“You can even put down your preferences right there Bob you see????”

“How can I leave this vale of tears?”

“Ohhhhh they even have ANIME here!!!!!”

“Maybe I should click on that to get out of this—”

“NO DON’T CLICK ON THAT!”

All kinds of things happened then, but in a nutshell: after a bug exterminator of some sort had
come to the hotel and had fixed the problem I had apparently caused by clicking on a cross
sign that actually had not been a cross sign but a ‘computer virus’ (apparently, modern
hardware could get sick?), I was finally able to use the internets as well for my research.

Thanks to that, my own memories and the many books I had worked through, I believed I
had found a possible solution to Alastor’s deadly curse problem. I put all of it down on paper
and studied it as thoroughly as I could, before making up my mind and leaving the confines
of my bedroom (and the two stalking goat demons slumbering in there) to go to Princess
Charlotte’s.
It was, after all, 2 o‘clock in the early morning. It was not possible Alastor would be
anywhere else around this time but in there, wrapped around the one he loved.

At least one of us was.

BbB

It was not before I had already knocked on the princess’ bedroom door that the thought
occurred to me that it was very much possible the princess herself would open up the
bedroom door instead of Alastor.

Well.

Whoopsy-daisy.

I was (arguably) lucky, however, because when the lock on the door was clicked open and the
wooden thing itself made way, not the dazzling eyes of Her Highness looked up at me, but
two grouchy, mismatched ones looked down on me. There was a dark, eerie chill howling out
of the room that made me wish for the bathrobe I had forgotten to put on upon leaving my
own bedroom. It also made me realize that it was not a wise idea to disturb the Radio Demon
late at night… unless there was a very good reason.

And indeed, when Alastor recognized it was me, he opened the door a bit more and continued
staring down at me with a quirked eyebrow. It looked like he had not been sleeping yet, but it
did not look like he had been fully awake, either. His smile resembled something of a
sarcastic smirk.

“Bob,” he acknowledged.

“Alastor,” I nodded back.

“You’ve got some nerve, disturbing me in the dead of the night.”

“So do you, opening the door while being stark-naked.”

He instantly smacked the door into my face.

A few minutes later, it opened again and Alastor came out – dressed in his nightwear this
time – and shut the door behind him once more. I could hear his radio audience snorting in
the background as he cleared his throat.

“You’ve got some nerve, disturbing me in the dead of the night.”

“Adamant on starting off there, are you not?” I shrugged. “It does not matter, Alastor. It does
not change the fact that I saw your pe—”

“Finish that sentence and find out what will happen with yours. Please.”
Since there was a persistent, mind-numbing, crackling radio static starting to ring through my
head, I chose to not torment him any longer – and quickly stated that I indeed had a very
good reason to look him up at this time.

“It is about the Mark of the Fallen,” I informed him, as Alastor calmed down a little. “I might
have found a way for you to cheat death.”

He rubbed his chin. His eyes kept flicker to the door behind him, as if he was afraid Princess
Charlotte would appear behind him at any given time. Ultimately, the Radio Demon gave me
a curt nod.

“Alright – what have you got?”

“I have looked into some sources in order to find out if you, a mortal soul, can recover from
the deadly Mark of the Fallen.”

“Yes, that’s what you just said. Get on with it.”

“There is none and you will die. HOWEVER,” I hastily carried on, since pitch-black clouds
of voodoo-magic immediately packed together above Alastor’s head and his eyes gleamed
warningly, “there is a way of getting resurrected after that has happened.”

Again, Alastor restored his composure, albeit with a little more trouble this time.

“Are you saying that I’ll have to die first in order to beat this blasted curse you put on me?”

“Yes.” I gave him a solemn look. “There is no other way. This curse is too powerful for a
mere human being to survive. Not all hope is lost, though, because like I said, there is a way
to come back to life after you have passed away. Well – back to the afterlife. You will need
God’s Horn for that – and His Holy Trumpet is in the possession of three Archangels: the
Mighty Michael, the Righteous Gabriel and the Wise Raphael.”

“Carry on,” Alastor said, now all of his attention resting on me.

“In Heaven, there are a lot of Angelic beings – like myself, for example, even if I am but a
simple Angel. Besides those, there are many important and respected Archangels, too.
However, by far the most important, well-known and powerful Archangels are the three
Archangels I just named. If my memories and the information I have looked up serve me
well, I believe they might even be powerful enough to use God’s Horn and bring you back to
life, once you have kicked the bucket.”

Much to my surprise, Alastor snorted. “Well, that’s not a very nice way of phrasing it.”

I furrowed my brows. “You are not a very nice person to begin with.”

“You got me there!”

I blinked, confused by his upbeat way of talking. I did not comprehend. Even though I had
found some sort of answer to his terminal problem, it was not like Alastor had close ties with
Heaven and could simply ask of the three Archangels to please come down and resurrect him,
after having died from the curse. And even if he had, why in the world would the honorable
Archangels help him, a brutal serial killer that had gotten what he deserved? It honestly
amazed me to see he appeared to be perfectly at ease. He even seemed – relieved, for some
reason?

“You look satisfied,” I therefore told him. “Despite the fact I have no idea how you can come
in contact with the Archangels. You do realize that, do you not? I want to help you further, I
do, but because of the state and shape I am in right now, I cannot reach Heaven whatsoever.
Furthermore, the minor chance of them responding to the call of me, a mere Angel that
seemingly abandoned Heaven months ago, is next to nothing.”

Alastor looked at me, the brown and red orbs of his eyes glowing in the darkness of the
corridor forebodingly. His yellow smile grew wider once more as he let out a dry, harsh
laugh.

“I know more than enough.”

“Do you?” I asked.

“Well, yes – unless you have more to tell me?” His demeanor changed once more, becoming
a bit less overbearing. Alastor snapped his fingers and made his microphone and its stand
appear, seemingly out of nowhere. He leaned on the object, giving me a broad, curious grin. I
realized he was not going to tell me what kind of plan he had in mind, so I decided to let it
slide.

Unfazed, I nodded. “I do have more to tell you.”

“Pray tell, dear old Bobbert!”

I ignore the atrocious nickname and continued: “I have found a way to determine how much
time you have left before snuffing it.”

“Snuffing it. Right. You’re having fun, aren’t you?” The deer demon chuckled and rolled with
his eyes. “Ah well… what is it, Bob?”

Wordlessly, I held out my hand towards him, my hand outstretched, my fingers spread open.

“You need to weave your cursed hand together with mine, Radio Demon.”

“Excuse me – I need to do what?” His smile lost much of its natural, powerful energy and
Alastor looked at my hand as if he had never seen such a disgusting thing before in his entire
(after)life.

“Hold my hand, yes,” I stated. “That way, I can feel how much time there is left before you
bite the dust. It’s a very reliable… measuring method, so to speak.”

“But why do I need to hold your hand like that? I only hold hands like that with – well, not
with you, in any case.”
“There is a good chance the spell I put on you is speeding up your death, the longer you have
it inside of you. You were sick for quite a while, were you not? You are rather weak at the
moment. But alright.” I began to lower my hand. “Who am I to go against you? If you do not
wish to know how much time you have left for whatever elaborate scheme you have in mind,
I will just—”

“Give me that stupid hand already, you plucked chicken.”

With a face that screeched disdain and dismay, no matter how broad his mouth was, he
grabbed my hand tightly with his sharp claws. It was not a pleasant experience – not for him,
nor for me. But I closed my eyes, concentrated and after a short pause, I could already sense
what his body, or at least the curse that was still roaming inside of it, was telling me.

“You have three months, two weeks and one day left,” I said.

“That’s not much.”

“You better hurry up then.”

“I will,” Alastor grumbled, narrowing his creepy eyes at me and dropping my hand with a
scornful sneer.

“O-oh my gosh!”

Both me and the deer demon had heard the gentle gasp and temporarily froze in place. Then
we looked around. Behind me was Niffty in her nightgown, wearing an adorable little
nightcap, observing the two of us like she was watching one of those special movies on the
internets.

“Hello Miss Niffty,” I said, giving her a little wave. She had grown on me.

“Oh my lord, not Niffty,” Alastor in turn said, paling.

“Alastor… you held hands with Bob, your arch nemesis,” Niffty whispered, scandalized. “In
the middle of the night, right outside the bedroom door where your girlfriend sleeps. Like a
Chad.”

“Is that bad?” I asked.

Alastor shook his head at her, then shot me an urgent glare that told me to please shut up.
“It’s not what you think, Niffty darling!”

“I ship it,” she breathed.

“Niffty, I swear it’s nothing like that!”

“No no no no no, it’s alright, Al.” The tiny ladybug girl blushed and grinned her creepy teeth
bare as she looked from Alastor to me and back. “I won’t say a word to anybody I promise!!!
Your dirty little gay secret is safe with me…”
 “Niffty, please…” Alastor groaned again – but the girl had spun around on her heels and
disappeared into the blackness around us, her high-pitched giggling echoing through the hall
for an unsettlingly long time.

For an equally long time, Alastor and I stared into the direction the small girl had fled into.
Neither one of us knew what to say in response to what had happened and it was very
uncomfortable. At last, the Radio Demon uttered a deep sigh, rubbed his head and glanced at
me.

“Anyway… was that all, Bob?”

“That was all,” I confirmed.

“Well. Then I’m going back to bed, if you don’t mind. This night has been insane enough
already.” He turned his back to me and reached for the door.

I, too, turned around, letting out a breath of air I had apparently held in as well.

“Oh – and Bob?” he then said.

I looked over my shoulder. “Yes?”

“Thank you for your efforts.”

A final, almost thankful nod – and the bedroom door of the princess was shut once more.

Chapter End Notes

Cyrano de Bergerac is not only a gifted duelist, a loyal soldier and a posh nobleman, but
he is also a talented poet and musician. The man is gifted with many wonderful qualities
– but in spite of all this, there’s one thing that makes him very insecure: his large nose.
Thanks to that, Cyrano can’t bring himself to confess his love to his distant cousin, the
lovely Roxane. One day, Roxane asks Cyrano to protect a certain man she fancies:
Christian de Neuvillette, a young man who, like Cyrano, serves as one of the Gascon
Cadets. She fears for his safety, and so, the gallant Cyrano agrees to do whatever he can
to protect Christian.
Christian and Cyrano befriend one another and Christian tells Cyrano he would love to
woo Roxane, but he’s too incompetent and dumb (his words, not mine) to do anything
romantic. Cyrano therefore decides to become Christian’s ghostwriter: he writes the
most beautiful letters and poems for Roxane and sends them to her… in Christian’s
name. Roxane eventually ends up marrying Christian, before he’s send off with Cyrano
to fight against the Spaniards. Cyrano keeps on writing letters to Roxane and Roxane
tells 'Christian' in one letter that she has fallen so deeply in love with him, that even had
he been an ugly man, she’d love him anyway. Christian realizes that this basically means
that Roxane loves Cyrano – and then he gets mortally wounded. As he lays dying,
Cyrano manages to convince his friend that Roxane was talking about him and not
Cyrano, and Christian dies in peace. Instead of taking his chance, Cyrano keeps quiet
about his love for Roxane and fifteen years(!) later, when he himself is on his deathbed,
Roxane finally finds out it had been Cyrano writing her those letters all along. She
tearfully tells him she loves him, after which Cyrano dies.

The romantic play the French poet Edmund Rostand (1868-1918) wrote was partly
based on the adventures of the real Cyrano de Bergerac (1619-1655). You can pretty
much see the play as a slowburn slashfic Rostand made in honor of the much-admired,
big-nosed Frenchman, who sadly enough died way too young, at age 36.
 Hansel and Gretel
Chapter Summary

In the run-up to Lucifer's party, Alastor sends Charlie on a fun scavenger hunt.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

It was Sunday – less than a week before mom and dad would throw that dreadful party of
theirs.

And since it was Sunday, I was still lying in bed, all warm and snug, having wrapped all the
covers of the bed around me – I mean, Alastor was busy preparing breakfast and stuff
downstairs now anyway, so I could just go on and relax for a little while longer. God, and
really, if somebody came barging in right now and told me that it would be okay for me to
spend the rest of this day lazing around like this… maybe with a neat movie on the side,
some snacks, some chocolate, preferably all together and all at once… gosh, I would’ve been
totally fine with that!

But no – I already knew I wouldn’t do that. In about a few minutes, I’d better check the time,
take a shower and get dressed, and then head on to the dining room to see what kind of theme
Al had decided to go with this time. I kind of hoped it would be a French breakfast – I could
seriously go for a nice, crispy croissant right now…

With a groan, I kicked the comfy sheets and covers and duvets and pillows (oh my god, just
how many things did I even keep on the bed?) off me and sat up. My exploded, unruly hair
slowly curled around my face as I smacked my lips, threw one of my hands on the nightstand
and felt around for my phone.

I did find my phone – but I also found a sticky note attached to it.

I hauled in both the note and my phone, staring at the note. It read the following:

“Note 1:

To my sheet-hogging sweetheart,

Good morning! I hope you slept well, my darling Charlie, because today, you will be needing
all of your energy. I’m not going to tell you yet what I mean with that (and no, my love, I
don’t mean that, shame on you for instantly thinking about that, you little pervert).
 However, I will tell you that I have prepared a nice breakfast for you alone, and it’s waiting
for you just outside of the bedroom. Now I know you don’t like to eat apart from your
precious sinners, but please humor me for now, alright? After all, it’s all part of the plan…

- Alastor”

Feeling a jumpy, warm feeling pooling up inside of me, I chuckled and reread the note,
noticing it said ‘note 1’.

Note 1? Where there going to be more notes?

Unable to contain my curiosity, I got out of bed and walked over to the bedroom door,
opening it. In front of it, Razzle and Dazzle stood, looking up at me gleefully as Razzle held
up a tray with a delicious-looking breakfast. It wasn’t a French breakfast – the little flag that
was stuck in one of the sandwiches told me it was, in fact, a Belgian breakfast – but it was an
extremely appealing sight anyway. Dazzle held up something as well: a little note.

“Aww, thank you, cuties!” I said, patting them both on the head before taking the tray and
note from their hooved paws (hands? Feet? Hmmm). “What a wonderful surprise! It looks so
tasty – thank you so much!”

I had wanted to ask my little bodyguards to come and join me, but as soon as I took my eyes
off them for even one moment – to put the note on the tray – the two of them were gone
already.

I – felt a little pang when I found myself all alone in that hallway again. I knew that they
these days rather enjoyed spending their time with Bob, since he… well, he actually gave
them attention. I most of the time was too busy with other things to really pay them any
mind, so it was only logical that they, this time, too, thought it was better to leave me be.

Okay – the next time I had the opportunity, I’d take Razzle and Dazzle out on a nice picnic,
just the three of us! It’s been way too long since we did anything like that and it might be the
perfect opportunity to catch up with one another! Yeah!

Feeling very happy with this decision, I retreated myself into the bedroom, sat down on my
bed and let my eyes wander over the neatly arranged and decorated tray for a minute or two.
Multiple slices of dark, rustic bread, covered with a thick spread of pâté and soft cheese, were
one the right and a plate with a considerable amount of smoked ham and dried sausages was
put on the left. There also was a cute, chic-looking cup of tea that smelled of peach and
honey – but by far the most interesting part of the entire tray was the big plate in the middle
of it, which had a couple of Belgian waffles stacked on top of each other, covered with
powdered sugar and strawberries.

I felt my mouth watering and I swallowed.

Ohhhhhh my god.

This was freaking amazing! Forget that stinky croissant – this was even better!
I allowed myself to stuff my face with all this delectable food in the most barbaric way
possible (seriously, it was a good thing my former etiquette teachers didn’t see me wolfing
down this meal like this), and, since I was a very impatient girl, I also folded open the little
note I had gotten from Dazzle, wondering what other message would be waiting for me
inside.

“Note 2:

To my sandwich-gobbling darling,

Bon appétit! I hope this breakfast is to your liking. I made sure to focus on all the flavors I
know you enjoy so much. Everything to get you in the sunny mood I want you to be in, my
love!

Now, please don’t waste too much time with eating this meal, for I am expecting you in a
certain room. I’m not telling you which one yet – you first need to get yourself ready! Around
11 o’clock, somebody will escort you to the chamber where I will be waiting for you…

That reminds me: please make sure to visit the bathroom before leaving!

- Alastor”

Oh wow, I could already tell this was going to be so much fun!

I gobbled up the piece of bread I still had in my mouth and took a big sip of tea, before I
finally let myself giggle and squeal in delight. I wasn’t sure what exactly Alastor was up to,
but I was already liking it a lot. This was turning into one big surprise scavenger hunt! I loved
doing those! What would be next? Where would his notes lead me to? Ohh, I was getting so
very excited!

I also read this note one more time. Someone would be at the door at 11 o’clock? I looked
around for my phone, found it discarded on the sheets and picked it up, glancing at the
screen.

10:31 AM.

I almost choked in a big chunk of waffle-with-powdered-sugar. Oh god, oh god, I had less

than half an hour to get ready – oh shit!

Hastily, I ate the things I really wanted to eat and then I got up, hurrying myself over to the
bathroom – after all, Al had said I needed to visit the bathroom before leaving, so...

I stumbled into the bathroom – and my eyes were almost instantly drawn to an elegant red
blouse with bishop sleeves, and a black, pleated skirt that – by the looks of it – would just
reach over my knees. They just… dangled there, on a coat hanger, and there was a little note
neatly put underneath the clothes.
Such cute clothes, by the way! So adorable! I found myself hopping and happily clapping my
hands before I could stop myself!

Since I was already short on time anyway – I still had to put on some make-up as well, after
all, and oh crap, don’t even get me started on my damn bed-hair – I left the little note where
it was for now, got rid of my PJ’s and slipped into the brand-new set that was waiting to be
put on.

I slipped into the clothes with ease and it... well, it kind of surprised me to find out it all fitted
me really nicely. Sure, Al had bought me a dress before, but I remember that I had to adjust
some things in order for me to wear it like it was supposed to be worn. This time though,
both clothing pieces fit me like they were specifically tailored for me. They felt really nice,
too. Very comfortable!

I had a hunch what Alastor was up to – I happened to notice the kind of shoes he had placed
with the clothes – so I decided to tie my hair up in a casual ponytail, just in case it would get
in the way. As I struggled with weak, snapping hair elastics that couldn’t handle my thick,
heavy locks, I had somehow managed to open the third note – and read it, just when I finally
found a scrunchie that actually did the trick.

“Note 3:

To my rubber-band-destroying, blonde angel,

In case you are – rightfully – wondering about the clothes, Rosie, Vaggie and Niffty helped
me out a great deal.

- Alastor.

Ps: this is the last note. Yes, I know it’s a bit anticlimactic, only three little notes to follow of
which the third is as ridiculously short as it is, but please keep in mind this is the first time
I’m doing something like this and that… pretty much everything I do with you is a first for
me.
I’ll get better at it. I promise you I will.”

I smiled and bit on my lower lip, endeared by the sentiment of the little letter. Then I put it
away, took a look in the mirror and focused on improving my face some more.

I could easily imagine Al rewriting these silly notes over and over again and in the end, just
settling on the ones I had eventually read, feeling extremely embarrassed about them, but
pushing himself to get on with them anyway. Just because he knows I’d like a romantic
gesture like this – even if it is as awkward and clumsy as humanly possible.

Al was really doing his best to make me feel better, like he had promised me he would.

He had promised me a lot of things, though. He had promised to let him take care of things,
to make sure mom and dad’s party would be a great success and that I would enjoy it to the
fullest, he had promised me he would eventually tell me about the things he hid away from
me – if I gave him some time to mentally prepare himself for that – and he… well..

“…and if you let me, I will spend the rest of the time I’m allowed to be at your side to cheer
you up and cheer you on.”

Something like that, right?

What had he meant with that, exactly?

I mean – it was fluffy and romantic and sappy as heck, sure, but I couldn’t help but note a sad
undertone to it. And it wasn’t just that one time – I had noticed it more often. Honest,
heartfelt-spoken words, hiding a unsaid, bittersweet truth.

Why? Why was that? Had it something to do with the things he was hiding from me? Was
he, knowingly or not, feeding me little hints and bits of information that I needed to know?

I – didn’t want to think about it too much. I hated that Alastor let me wait and almost forced
me to speculate about the secrets that just wouldn’t pass his lips, but I knew I could trust his
word: if he said he was going to tell me, he was going to tell me. I simply needed to be
patient.

Even though that was getting harder and harder every day.

Well – not that I was much better. After all, I, too, had to tell him something… and I, too, was
struggling with… just spitting it out.

But anyway.

When I felt satisfied about the way I looked, I turned to my phone again. The little digits on
the screen just changed to 11 o’clock, so I let out a breath of relief: I had made it! Just in
time, sure, but I had made it! Well done, me!

And indeed: not even two seconds later, I could hear someone knocking politely on the
bedroom door. I glanced at my reflection one last time, randomly patted the soft fabric of my
skirt, breathed in deeply – and got a move on.

CcC

I didn’t know who to expect when I opened up my bedroom door, but it wasn’t Bob, of all
sinners. And yet, there he was, with his usual shabby hair, the usual dead eyes and the usual
‘well-okay-but-I-just-don’t-give-a-crap-about-your-opinion, Judy’-attitude, beaming right off
his entire being.

Or… or did it?

To be completely honest, upon seeing me, Bob seemed to stand up a bit more, raising his
head and bringing back just a tiny speck of light in his eerie, blue eyes. Also, I didn’t see the
torn, long black jacket he usually wore hanging from his skinny body. No, he instead wore
just a – well, a fairly normal get-up, for once. A decent set of pants and a simple, yet
dignified turtleneck sweater – which both suited him very nicely. His damaged wings still
looked as painful as they did when he first arrived at the hotel, but they were slightly less
bare. A few feathers had actually started growing back, and the feathers looked frail, yet
healthy.

Did - did this mean that the therapy was helping him? Healing him?

It did, didn’t it?

I could feel my eyes spreading themselves wider and I put my hands together, opening my
mouth to voice my happiness upon seeing him so hopeful, for once. He beat me to it, though.

“Sweet Saint Mary Magdalene, you look positively sublime,” he blurted out. Then he –
clearly – felt a bit weird about his words and looked away from me.

I blinked, also surprised by this outburst. But I recovered from my initial surprise fairly
quickly and grinned happily at him, folding my hands on my back.

“Right back at you, Bob! Just look at you! All dressed up and looking as spiffy as spiffy can
be!”

“I could be even spiffier,” Bob earnestly and very dryly announced, with absolutely 0%
humor in his words. “But that might not be the best idea, considering that I am in Hell and
such.”

“You are allowed to be as spiffy as you want to be– even in Hell,” I told him. “So if you ever
feel the need to look even more handsome, just sparkle away, Bob!”

I chuckled, but the chuckling stopped when he suddenly looked me in the eyes. His own were
hard, cold and unreadable as always, but there was… more to them. What could that be?

“Would you like to see me like that, Princess Charlotte?” he asked.

“What, all… sparkly and stuff?” I let out a slightly nervous laugh. “Well – um – I guess? If
that makes you feel better… sure!”

“That is good to know, since that day will come. One day. I wonder what you will say when
you see me like that. I wonder what you will say. What you will do.”

I didn’t really understand what he was saying, but I could tell it was important. So I listened
carefully and gave him a reassuring smile, promising him to accept him anyway, no matter
what he would end up looking like.

“You are a kind soul,” he said, with the slightest hint of a small, sorrowful smile appearing on
his lips. “Please do not say anything you might regret later.”

I frowned. “Huh? What do you—”

Bob interrupted me before I could continue. “I see that you have put on the clothes Alastor
prepared for you. You look breathtaking, even if these clothes are not that special, nor even
remotely suitable. One can only imagine just what an amazing beauty you could be if you
would wear garments that are truly fit for a noble, wonderful princess of your stature – not
some casual clothes every simple woman can put on. However, I must say you wear those
very well as well.”

For a few seconds, I fell silent. His words made me feel a bit… attacked? Insulted? Whatever
it was I exactly felt, it wasn’t a particularly positive sensation.

“I happen to like dressing like a ‘simple’ woman, as you put it,” I heard myself say, sounding
sterner than I had meant to. “And I like these clothes, too. They’re nice and good enough for
me. I’m not as… princess-y as you might think, Bob. Don’t make me bigger or better than
the person I am.”

“My apologies. I am only stating what is on my mind, Princess Charlotte.” Not even a shred
of emotion was on his face as he made an offhand gesture to the empty corridor behind him.
“Moving right along, would you please care to follow me?”

I nodded, glad to hear he didn’t press the princess-stuff, and I gingerly followed him suit as
he – pretty abruptly – started walking through the hallway.

CcC

I looked around us as we walked.

Safe for the two of us, there wasn’t anybody in the hallway. It was a fairly normal sight on a
Sunday morning (most sinners were downstairs now, either eating their breakfast or doing
other things), but the quietness of the maroon-colored corridor was getting a bit on my nerves
– especially since Bob was perfectly fine with… promenading right on through in complete
silence and didn’t even attempt to strike up another conversation.

I guess it was up to me to liven things up.

“So…” I broke the silence, making Bob glance at me, “I guess Alastor didn’t string you up in
the entrance hall this time, huh!”

I instantly wanted to kick myself. Amazing, Charlie! What a good topic to talk about!

“No, he did not. That is why I am walking here, and why I am not hanging from the entrance
hall’s ceiling right now,” Bob carefully explained to me.

I smiled sheepishly. “Um… yes. I – can see that, Bob.”

“No need to go Bob-airfishing today.”

“H-ha ha… hooray?”

“Hooray indeed.”

The awkward conversation fell flat again, as it always seemed to do – but I was determined to
keep on talking with him, at least until we had reached our destination.

“So – um – are the two of you getting along a bit better now, since you’re… you know,
escorting me to him for him?” I asked.

“Does it look like that is the case?” he countered my question, giving me a look which was a
strange mix in-between rock-hard, stoic bewilderment and sheer, uncaring amazement (and
yes, that looked exactly as strange as it sounds).

I smiled and shrugged. “To me, it looks like you, at the very least, have grown to hate Al a
little less, yes.”

“It is not.”

“Oh.”

“I still hate him.”

“O-oh.”

“Very much.”

“So, did he force you to do this? To pick me up, I mean?”

“No.”

“Then why are you doing this for him?”

“I am not doing this for him. I happen to like walking in this particular corridor.”

I had to stifle a giggle. “Uh-huh.”

“It is a very pleasant corridor.”

“Right...”

“Nothing like the other corridors, who look precisely the same.”

“Oh my god, Bob.”

“It is probably the atmosphere.”

“Sure. Still doesn’t explain why you picked me up though.”

He gave me a vacant stare. I had to snort and couldn’t tell if I was irritating him or if he was
mildly amused by my helpless laughter – and I wouldn’t find out either, because just when he
began to tell me a (very weak and odd) explanation on how and why he happened to pick me
up and bring me to where Al was, I noticed we were no longer walking, but standing still…
…near the barely used, heavily neglected ballroom of the hotel.

Normally, no light would come out of this room, even when the door was open, since its
many big, ceiling-high windows most of the time were covered with gray, old, dusty curtains.
The doors were open now as well – but this time, a vivid, yellow/orange ray of sleepy
sunlight fell on the carpeted floor of the corridor, giving away that something was happening
in the ballroom – something I would like a lot.

It beckoned me.

“Is this the place?” I immediately asked Bob, unable to contain my growing anticipation and
therefore accidentally cutting him off mid-sentence.

However, he adjusted to the situation right away and nodded. “Yes. This is the place, Princess
Charlotte.”

He gave me a slight bow – then turned around, marching away. Just like that.

O-oh…

It all happened pretty fast. Too fast, maybe? I looked at Bobs shrinking and eventually
disappearing figure for a little while, fearing that I had hurt his feelings. Or was this all part
of Alastor’s plan, since my goat demon servants had also vanished just as sudden? I didn’t
know for sure, but I was pretty certain it had been very rude of me to just let my thoughts
wander off during a conversation – especially since it had been a rare, close-to fun one with
the usually so aloof and uncaring Bob.

I’d apologize to him later. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be too mad.

Right now however, I felt too excited about what was waiting for me in the ballroom to spend
too much time dwelling on what was up with Bob. It was about time to get into the ballroom
and see just what Alastor was up to – and I – cautiously, discreetly – walked into the light
coming out of the normally so bare and so harshly-ignored chamber.

CcC

Barely had I taken one single, delicate step into the enormous ballroom, or the memories I
had almost forgotten about this room, about a time when I was younger and mom and dad
were still using this hotel as their vacation chalet and this ballroom as an actual ballroom,
flooded my mind and senses.

It… it looked just as gorgeous as it did back then. Maybe even better.

The large, wooden, boarded floor had obviously been cleaned and polished with a good
amount of wax – and it showed. It shone proudly in the bright sunlight that came through the
clear, washed windows, almost blinding me in the process. The ugly curtains were removed
and replaced by golden-colored ones, tied together with sturdy, yet elegant ropes. The
curtains matched the just as regal and luminous-looking wallpaper, wonderfully decorated
with nothing but old paintings, some cleverly hidden-away speakers and a single clock. I also
recognized the three curly and imposing golden chandeliers, hanging from the ceiling and
giving the entire room an even more overwhelming air.

Pressing my hands against my mouth and feeling some tears welling up, I made my way into
the ballroom. It was so great to see it restored to its original glory once again – I couldn’t
help but feel sentimental. Had Alastor done this? All of this?

I needed to see him. Oh god – I needed to see him right now and hug the life out of him for…
for doing this for me. It was too much and it was just enough at the same time. I couldn’t
even decently smile anymore. Where was he…?

After wiping the few happy tears out of my eyes and looking around a bit more, I spotted
him, standing in front of one of the windows, his back turned towards me. As I hastily
approached him, I saw he wasn’t wearing his usual red clothes and trousers, but a very
dramatic loose poet shirt, all frilly and lacy and Victorian, and some dark, tight pants.

So tight.

So very, very tight.

Oh sweet mother of god.

They were tight.

They were so tight, they hugged Al’s beautiful butt so wonderfully and they therefore made
his ass look even more desirable than it already was in my eyes – and that was saying
something!

I loved those pants. I loved that butt. I loved that butt in those pants and right now, you could
have married me off to Alastor right on the spot, just because of those award-winning pants
the man was wearing and teasing me with.

Oh crap, I really needed to get over to him and grope him as soon as possible, before the
godliness of his magnificent buns would be the death of me.

Snickering and quickly gulping down the shameful amount of saliva that had gathered inside
of my mouth, I sneaked closer to Alastor’s unsuspecting bu—figure. I kept a good eye on
him as I slowly crept closer, since I didn’t want to pounce on him and suddenly grope his – I
don’t know – ugly pirate shirt instead of those sweet, sweet cheeks. I had a mission, after all.

Luckily for me, Alastor was seemingly lost in his own thoughts as he stared out of the
window. It took a while for me, but ultimately, I noticed the discomfort in the shape of his
body – the spasms that visibly shot through his trembling, no doubt aching hand. Soon
enough, Alastor’s butt was less interesting to me than his well-being was, and I decided to
walk the last few meters to him normally.
When I was right behind him – and he for some reason still hadn’t sensed my presence – I
carefully wound my arms around him and pressed myself against him, hopefully in a
comforting way, burying my face into the fabric of his lame shirt.

“Hi Al.”

Alastor was Alastor, so of course he kind of jumped like a frightened cat upon feeling
somebody touching him without any warning – and of course his dark shadow was circling
me in a frigid, chaotic manner within seconds. However, as soon as both Al and his shadow
recognized me, he relaxed, the shadow disappeared and I could feel him breathe out a sigh of
relief.

A hand was laid on my hands, still clutched around him. “Why hello there, my darling
Charlie.”

“Are you in pain?” I muttered, moving my face away from his shirt a bit.

“Not at all.”

“Lie again and I will bite your ankles. Al.”

At that, he had to snigger. Then one of my hands managed to found his right one – the hurt
one – and he didn’t make any sound anymore as I lightly brushed my fingers over the scar
marking his skin. It felt warm to the touch.

“It stings a little,” he then admitted.

“Let me see?”

I let go of him and Alastor turned around to face me. He didn’t protest, but winced ever so
slightly when I took his hand in mine and studied the back of it. The silver cross was a tad
brighter than it was before and his hand felt a bit swollen, but other than that, nothing seemed
out of the ordinary.

He was in pain, though. I knew he was.

“Al,” I started, looking up at him, “if it hurts you that badly and you’re feeling under the
weather, maybe you should—”

“Sorry for interrupting you, my love, but I was wondering – have you already guessed it?”

I stared into his huge, twinkling eyes. In spite of his pain, the pure, unabashed excitement he
practically emitted was too brilliant, too intense for it to be an entire act. I could also sense an
urgent, unasked question – to please stop talking about that stupid hand of his.

If it could keep his mind off his pain and if I could make him feel better, then maybe I should
just play along, it flashed through my head.

So I beamed a cheerful grin right back at him. “Yeah, I guessed it alright – you want to dance
with me, don’t you?”
“Ten points for the lovely lady in the black skirt!” He laughed, quickly caught my hand with
his and planted a kiss of the back of mine. “That’s correct, my darling princess: although we
have danced before, I don’t think we have ever engaged in actual ballroom dancing. And
since we’re going to attend to your parents’ sophisticated party, we cannot let this perfect
opportunity to practice our dancing go to waste!”

I burst into laughter as he gripped my hand a bit firmer and dragged me over to the middle of
the dancefloor.

“Alright then! No time to waste – we’re going to practice as many as we can, both the
standard dances and the Latin ones,” he said, as he rummaged through the pockets of his
sinfully tight pants, “so first off: the waltzes – both the English and the Viennese one, the
Foxtrot, the Slowfox, the Quickstep and the Tango. And then, we’ll move right along with
some Rhumba, Mambo, Samba, Pasodoble, the Cha-Cha and – one of my personal favorites:
the Jive! Now, I assume you know some of them—”

“All of them,” I corrected him.

Alastor gave me a genuinely impressed look. “My goodness! Is that so? Do you know the
basics of each and every ballroom dance, my dear?”

“The basics?” I puffed up my chest. “Alastor, honey cakes – you don’t seem to realize that
there is one giant plus to having grown up as a spoiled princess: I got tons of teachers for tons
of stuff – like dancing!”

“Honey cakes,” Al repeated, shaking his head in disbelieve.

I ignored it and quickly stammered: “U-uhm, a-anyway – yeah! I don’t want to brag, but with
all due respect – I’m a pretty good dancer!”

“Oh ho, are you, now?” Al teased, finally pulling out a remote control of his pockets and
turning on the music. Soon, tunes were whirling around in the room, in the air, prickling our
senses and fueling our shared elation about the prospect of dancing with one another even
more.

In the meantime, I kept on boasting.

“You could learn a thing or two from me, Al.” I winked at him. “Good for you.”

Alastor’s invisible radio audience roared and cheered fanatically at that, loving the way I
challenged their host, and Al just grinned his eternal grin, letting it spread all over his face as
he pulled my hands off his ass (I had no idea how they had gotten there all of a sudden) and
put the two of us in a starting pose.

“My, those are some big words! However, can you live up to them? If you’re truly as good of
a dancer as you claim you are, then you better show me how this Tango is done, Ms.
Grabbyhands.”

“Oh I’ll show you, Future Mr. Magne.”

 Alastor was temporarily at a loss for words and I blushed heavily, straightening my back and
placing the thumb of my left hand right underneath his armpit, as it was taught to me.

“Charlie, did you just call me—”

“Yeah. I mean… y-yes.” I peeked up at him from underneath my bangs. “You have none. S-
so when the time’s there… and if you’d want it… I’ll give mine to you.”

The music played on in the background. It was some lovely classical music and oh, I really
wanted to dance, and I knew for a fact that Al really wanted to dance as well. Unfortunately,
dancing was postponed for at least ten minutes after that little remark of mine, since Al
apparently found it necessary to take my face and kiss the ever-loving goodness out of me,
right after I had uttered these words.

But since I was more than happy to smooch him back and delight in knowing that he
wouldn’t mind, he wouldn’t mind, he wouldn’t mind!, this slight delay maybe wasn’t so
unfortunate after all.

Chapter End Notes

When a huge famine settles over the land, two kids from a starving family are left
behind in the woods. Late in the evening, however, Hansel and Gretel (who had left a
trail of pebbles behind as their parents led them into the woods) return to their home.
The next day, however, the children are once again dumped in the forest. Hansel tries to
leave behind a trail of bread this time, as he couldn’t get pebbles, but birds eat the bread,
and the poor kids are lost for sure this time.
Fortunately, they discover a cute house made out of gingerbread, cake and candy, and
the hungry children begin to feast on the house. The owner of the house, an old and ugly
blind witch, then tricks them into coming in. As soon as they do, Hansel is put in a cage
and Gretel is enslaved. The witch plans to eat Hansel, but he manages to fool her by
holding out a thin bone whenever she comes to check if the boy’s gotten fat enough
already. Eventually, the witch gets fed up with waiting and prepares the oven to cook
Hansel. She tries to trick Gretel into checking the over (so that she can push her in and
eat her as well), but Gretel isn’t that stupid and turns the tables on her, telling the witch
to check the over herself. The witch does, she gets pushed in, and as the screaming
woman meets her fiery, burning end, Gretel frees Hansel. The kids ransack the place and
escape into the woods, where they find their way back to their house. They discover
their mother has died in the meantime and their father is a broken man, but as soon as
his kids return home (with all the valuable stolen goods they took from the witch),
things are a-okay again!

A German fairy tale, collected by the Brothers Grimm. It’s pretty well-known and
popular in Europe.
 The Red Shoes
Chapter Summary

When Charlie finds out Alastor's working way too hard for her sake, she cooks up a
disgustingly fluffy plan.

Chapter Notes

Charlotte made a few lovely drawings of Bob and Charlie. Yes. It happened! And it's so
CUTE and BITTERSWEET! <3 <3 <3 You can see them for yourself here!^^

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I found out that dancing with Alastor was much like breathing air.

It felt easy. It felt natural. It just started, seemingly out of the blue, without me having to
think hard about how to do it and when to do it – and the rest simply unfolded readily right
after the first few, still-hesitant, steps had been made.

As a man who was obsessed with keeping things in check and every situation under control,
it was both normal Alastor would be a great dancer... as it was not normal at all.

But the way he leaded me over the shiny dancefloor, whether it was during a strict and rule-
bounded dance like the Slow Fox or during a dance that allowed more happy, peppy, loose
moves, like the Cha-Cha – it showed me that Alastor had quite some experience with dancing
and moving his lean, flexible body to the beat of the music, no matter what kind of rhythm he
was challenged with. He didn’t falter, he simply went along with what the circumstances
offered him – and he obviously enjoyed every moment of it to its fullest.

Pulling me flush against him, steering me away with a push to my hands, catching me back in
his arms and leading or twirling me in whatever direction he needed me to be, barely using
any force or clear encouragements, but his mere body language alone…

The subtle, yet clear hints of his impressive and well-developed mobility as he moved his feet
and guided me through the ballroom, fluently adjusting himself and his movements to
whatever melody was playing in the background, non-verbally demanding all of my attention
to be directed at him, and him only…

The steadfast, confident grip of his clawlike hands on my waist, on my hand, the way he
looked at me – just how he looked at me, his eyes unusually big and expressive, brimming
with unabashed excitement and glee as he obviously had the time of his life dancing with me
like this…

It dazzled me! Amazed me!

And I loved it!

Seeing him like this, dancing with him like this – I loved loved loved it, so much!

You see, I was taught how to dance by teachers, demons and sinners that, understandably,
only danced with me because they were told to do so, because they needed to please me or
because they wanted to leave a certain impression on me. Therefore, many of my dance
partners (if not all of them) had felt stiff and uncertain to dance with. Especially if I tried and
compared their dance qualities and capacities to my own, which were… well, more
developed, more spontaneous. Their movements just… weren’t as smooth as mine, their steps
were off and my poor toes had been accidentally stepped on more times than I could count,
over the past years.

My dance partners did their best, most of the time… but they didn’t really have fun while
dancing with me.

Mind you, it didn’t exactly bother me, per se. However, it did remind me that, although
dancing was a pleasant and easy activity for me to do, it didn’t necessarily mean it was just as
enjoyable for everybody else. Which was fine! We’re all different, after all.

I didn’t, for example, needed to have a lover that loved dancing just as much as I did. As long
as I had a love interest that, at the very least, wouldn’t mind dancing with me if I happened to
ask them for a dance, I wouldn’t mind they lacked the same passion I had for this lovely
hobby.

Like... well, Harold never liked dancing, but he was good at it, since he – like me – had been
following dancing classes from a young age. It felt, uhm, ‘professional’ when I danced with
him, but it didn’t feel exciting. Or… uh, enjoyable.

Vaggie, on the other hand, was – forgive me for this, Vag – awful at dancing and had only
ever danced with me to do me a favor. She hated the fact she couldn’t keep up with me and
would get frustrated with the dance moves, which ultimately leaded to us stopping dancing
altogether and Vaggie spending the rest of the evening either sulking or apologizing to me for
being such an atrocious dancer.

And all of my ex-lovers before the two of them… heck, I couldn’t even remember what their
dancing abilities were like. Kind of gives away just how impressive they were, ha ha…

But Al!

Oh my god, Al!

He was the first romantic partner I had that actually loved dancing just as much as I did, and
he had more than enough experience and enthusiasm to not only keep up with me, but bring
out the best in my own dancing, too. He accomplished what all of my other lovers combined
had never been able to do, while dancing with them: making me enjoy myself so much that I
was afraid my heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

I laughed so much – I had so much fun, it didn’t even matter how much my body perspired or
how wheezily my breath had become after dancing with Al for what seemed to be ages.
Moving with Alastor like this, being able to let myself go on the dancefloor and have this
secret, playful, unspoken conversation with him – it brought me more satisfaction and pure,
stupid bliss than I had ever experienced on the dancefloor before.

So I danced with Alastor, I happily reacted to his suave, gliding body, and he responded just
as ecstatically to mine. It was so great - I wasn't able to stop grinning or keep my eyes or
hands off of him, and I felt the happiest in weeks!

If only this joy could last forever!

CcC

It couldn’t, however. Of course it couldn’t, because no matter how much fun it was to dance
to my heart’s content with Alastor like this, we really were getting dangerously out of breath
– and at a certain moment, Alastor just calmly pressed me against his frilly poet shirt and
slowed down his movements. I at first wanted to wiggle myself free from his sweaty grasp
and attempt to entice him into speeding up his pace again, making me whirl around just one
more time, let me have one last quick jolt of erratic frivolity…

…but then I heard the insane beating of his heart, pounding against his ribcage so fast and so
hard that I got the message and relaxed, at last.

I felt one of Al’s hands gliding into my hair, pushing me against him some more. The other
one held on to my hand, squeezing it lightly. I smiled, suddenly realized how exhausted I was
as well, and leaned more into him. My free hand gripped the back of his shirt.

Like that, we kind of slow-danced around for a while, panting audibly, trying to catch our
breath. It was nice. Cooling down like this – it was delightful, even though neither of us said
anything. But that was okay. Sometimes, you didn’t need to say anything, really.

Nuzzling my face into his chest for a bit before tilting it up, I eventually cleared my throat.

“That… that was great, Al.”

To be honest, ‘great’ wasn’t good enough to describe just how happy this dance session with
Alastor had made me, not by far even, but I had used up most of my energy already, and the
only word that had come to my still-recovering mind was ‘great’ – so I went with it.

He was content with that, though, and put his chin on my head with a pleased sigh. “I’m glad,
my love… I’m very glad.”
“You’re an amazing dancer. I – I had kind of expected that… hoped that… but still. You blew
me away.” I let my eyes flutter shut for a bit. “I might have fallen in love with you a little bit
more because of that alone, darling.”

Alastor made a sound that was something in-between a yelp and a huff, before he hastily let
go of my hand, in order to just… bend down, wrap his arms around me and press my face
into his shirt even more, leaving a few speechless kisses in the nape of my neck.

I chuckled, rubbed his back and carried on, since I wanted to praise him even more. He
absolutely deserved it, after all.

“I also like how you prepared all of this, Al. The clothes, the music, the helpers, the cute little
notes… you put a lot of work into all of this, I can tell. I loved it. I loved all of it. You did a
good job... and you made me very happy!”

I hugged him as warmly as I was able to, clutching his ugly shirt and resting my chin on top
of his shoulder.

“I love you,” I heard him utter.

I was a bit surprised as to why he sounded so emotional all of a sudden. I didn’t pay too much
attention to it though, because I, too, felt a bit unstable (thanks to all that dancing and now all
that sweet nonsense from Al). For this reason, I was quiet for a bit as I stroke over the back of
his neck.

“I love you too, Al,” I ultimately muttered. Then I sighed: “It’s too bad though.”

“What is too bad?” he asked, right away, as I thought he would.

“Well,” I mused, “you have a pretty nice body, Al. At first glance, you might look a scrawny,
thin man that could blow away at once whenever there’s a mild breeze going on – but you
have a fine, shapely torso. You know… broad shoulders and everything… I like that in a
partner.”

“Please don’t forget about my elite backside, either,” he earnestly reminded me, making me
snort.

“Oh I will never ever forget about your elite backside, Al. Wouldn’t dare to, even!”
Momentarily, I let go of his shirt to slide my arm down his back and decisively pat his butt
like it was a cute little puppy – but then my hand went up again and took hold of his shirt
once more. “But this isn’t about your tight buns. It’s about this.”

I pulled on the fabric of his ugly shirt.

“You like this shirt, Alastor?”

He pulled back and grinned from ear to ear. “Well, I do like the style it represents! It’s
Victorian – very – well – romantic and such! I thought you would like to see that on me.”
Oh my god. He could have just as well physically slammed me to the ground, because that
perky face was enough to instantly floor me. I felt my poor, defenseless heart swell up,
thanks to the sudden rush of love and adoration that it was attacked with, and I blushed, coyly
plucking at his shirt.

W-well. Maybe it didn’t look that bad…

“You look handsome, Al.” I stood on the tips of my toes and pressed a quick kiss on his
broad grin. “It’s very… fluttery!”

He gave me a questioning look. “Is… that a good thing?”

“Oh Al, you can’t ever be too fluttery!”

That was too much. And yes, Al had heard the slightly sarcastic tone as well and squinted his
eyes at me, the corners of his mouth losing their sharp edges.

“You hate it, don't you.”

I struggled to keep a straight face, stumbling over my words . “N-no! No, I don't hate it… It’s
nice enough, Al!”

“…’nice enough’?”

“Y-yeah! Yeah…”

“Oh my goodness – you absolutely detest it,” he concluded in a low voice, as he started to
take big and relentless steps forwards and forced me to walk backwards. “You little lying
tease.”

I giggled helplessly and willingly let him back me into a corner of the ballroom, where he
planted his hands against the walls. I had nowhere to run, but that was okay: I wasn’t
planning on going anywhere anyway. Truth be told, that oversized shirt looked a lot hotter on
him now that he was holding his arms up like that, looking a bit sweaty and looming over me
with that huge, eternal smile of his.

“Okay,” I admitted as he approached my hot, flustered face with his, “so maybe it’s a bit
hideous.”

Al’s jaw dropped at that and his radio audience was laughing so hard in the background,
they’d be literally rolling over the floor had they been – you know, real. Alastor chuckled
soon after as well, though, and squashed me further into the corner.

“You’re a mischievous one, my dear,” he said, his face and mouth now just a breath away
from mine. “But you’re right, it’s a horrid thing, and thank god you don’t like this dreadful
shirt – you have no idea what a pain it was to get it on. I don’t even know if I’m wearing it
correctly. Look at all this fabric. The frills. It’s like I’m drowning in cloths!”

“At least your butt looks nice,” I tried to cheer him up.
He stared at me, dumbfounded. “Yes. At least my butt looks nice.”

“Maybe I should cop a quick fee—”

“Maybe you should shut up, Charlie.”

He groaned, took hold of both of my wrists and pinned them to the wall above my head,
before finally closing the distance between our lips. It took him a few kisses to stop my
chuckling, but I eventually stopped and gave in to him. Feeling hot and needy, I eagerly
kissed him back, opening my mouth and shivering with pleasure when I sensed his tongue
lazily brushing against mine, deepening the slow kiss that was going on.

As he loosened his hold on my wrists and let me collect his face in my hands, leaning closer
to me and never separating our lips, I found myself thinking that, all in all, this was a very
satisfying ending to a very satisfying afternoon.

CcC

It wasn’t just that afternoon that was satisfying for me, though.

For some reason, the rest of the week that followed up this incredibly nice Sunday was very
enjoyable as well.

Maybe… too enjoyable?

I usually had loads and loads of things to do during the week. It kind of came with the job,
you know: being a manager, a therapist, a princess and the legal owner of a hotel, all at the
same time… it meant I just never was totally done with my work. There was always some
mail that needed to get answered, multiple bills that needed to get paid (somehow), problems
and complaints of tenants I had to deal with, broken furniture or malfunctioning televisions
and PC’s that I had to find the right handymen for, slumbering management troubles that
waited for me to sort them out, cool events that had to be organized, meals that needed to get
prepared each and every day, a loyal, yet not-always-that-proactive staff that was waiting (or
not waiting) for my careful instructions…

Let’s just say there were a number of very good reasons why I hadn’t been against Alastor
taking over my tasks on Sunday.

Monday to Saturday were still mine to handle – and that was okay! I mean, of course! I knew
how heavy the workload would be way before I actually started this rehabilitation hotel, so
don’t worry – you wouldn’t hear me complain, ever! Besides, I had Vaggie, Alastor, Husk,
Niffty and sometimes even Angel Dust at my side, ready to help me out when the going got
tough. Things were good enough as they were right now and I could deal with it, easy peasy!

But when I came into my and Vaggie’s little office on Monday, I discovered, much to my
surprise, that most of the urgent matters were already dealt with.
And that same revelation came when I tried to get some work done on Tuesday: there simply
wasn’t all that much left for me to do.

Wednesday was a little bit busier, perhaps, and I hadn’t seen Alastor all that much the past
couple of days - but Vaggie was there to help me out, and then there was Angel Dust to help
her out. He… had become very helpful, now that I think about it. But only when Vag was
around and only if she asked.

Huh…

I mean, I knew both Vaggie and Angel Dust were gay, so I wasn’t trying to jump to any silly
conclusions here, but… well, I found it pretty… peculiar, that the two of them all of a sudden
were hanging around each other as much as they did. I supported it, though! The new
situation had a good effect on Vaggie, who had become a bit less grumpy – which was nice!
So whatever it was that was going on, I didn’t mind it – and maybe I was even secretly
feeling very relieved about it.

But anyway!

On Thursday and Friday, there wasn’t much to do, either – and then, on a Friday afternoon,
when I was absentmindedly watering some plants around the hotel, it finally clicked that
maybe, just maybe, my sudden increase in free time and my less-stressful schedule was all
thanks to Alastor and his crazy promises. After all, he was doing all kinds of stuff behind the
scenes.

Like cheering me up, dancing with me, preparing me for my parents’ gala…

Wait a minute.

“…I also realize you’re a very diligent worker. And incredibly stubborn in your ways.
However – let me have this. Let me take care of you, my beautiful princess.”

Wait a darn minute.

I blinked as I recalled the words Alastor had nonchalantly told me about a week ago.
Seemingly random, yet loving words. They were very nice and kind and of course, me and
my easily-charmed ass had told him to yes, please take care of me.

But was all of this what I had unconsciously agreed to?

I hadn’t meant to agree to him just doing everything!

Oh my god, was he doing everything now?

Why the hell was he doing everything?

I mean, yeah, I knew Al was powerful and mighty, but he wasn’t a damn miracle worker!

Oh god, it did explain why I hadn’t seen him all that much the past couple of days, apart from
the bedroom and the library: Alastor was constantly doing things behind my back to lower
my workload!

I felt my heart drop and put the watering can down on the window sill, my hands quivering.
This was going too far – this was too much. I had to stop him, before he’d get a freaking
burn-out! I had to—

“…will you let me try and make that promise I made to you come true? Will you trust my
word and allow the both of us to go visit your parents’ party and enjoy it to our fullest, my
darling love?”

The party.

It was just this week, until the party.

I calmed down a little.

If I remembered (and understood) Al’s words correctly, Alastor was working so hard in order
to get me all relaxed, happy and well-rested: it would be the perfect mood for me to attend
my parents’ party this weekend. So that basically meant that going against him – as in,
looking him up and begging him to please stop overworking himself – would be the same as
telling him I didn’t trust him enough.

He wouldn’t like that. Maybe it’d even hurt him a bit. I didn’t want to hurt him.

Okay.

Okay – focus, Charlie.

Today, it was Friday. My parents’ stupid gala was tomorrow evening, so Al would probably
stop taking tasks out of my hand after… Sunday. I didn’t have much choice but to accept that,
since I had unwittingly agreed to it in the first place. I couldn’t mess things up now.

…but that meant Alastor himself could.

I felt my forehead wrinkling as I stood there, near that window sill, rubbing my chin and
clacking my tongue… and then I made a decision.

“Jesus, you’re glaring at that poor flower like it personally insulted you,” I heard a familiar
voice speak up all of a sudden and I looked around. Vaggie stood right behind me, one of her
eyebrows cocked up and both of her arms folded together. It was a defensive stance, but there
was an easy smile on her face.

“What’s the matter, hun?” she asked.

A happy jolt shot through my body. Vaggie had recently started calling me by her former
petname for me again – and since it didn’t hold the same energy as it used to have, it was a
nice thing to hear. A little bit of evidence that things had finally, finally become normal
between the two of us again. Was that also because of…?

Ah, well – I’d think about that later!

“Vag!” I exclaimed, beaming a big grin at her. “Just the person I wanted to see! I need to
speak to you! To – discuss something with you! Do you have a minute?”

Vaggie brushed some of her dark hair – it really was just as pretty as her former white hair, if
you asked me – out of her face and tilted her head a bit, trying to hide her curiosity but not
completely succeeding in doing just that.

“Uh… sure, I guess? How can I help you?”

And so, I told her.

CcC

Usually, whenever I went to bed late on a normal weekday, Alastor would already be in bed.
He’d be reading something light, patiently waiting for me to eventually go to bed as well, and
I always was happy to see he had stayed up for me. I had told him many times before he
could just go to sleep, really (I mean, he didn’t have to stay up for me, since he was a horrible
sleeper to begin with), but Al presumably didn’t pay my words any mind and kept waiting for
me to join him in bed anyway.

This week had been a bit different though, since these days, it had been Al that showed up in
the bedroom later than expected.

Naturally, I had tried to, like him, stay up and wait for him… but unlike Alastor, I didn’t
suffer from insomnia or other sleep-related problems – and because this week had been
relatively chill, stress-free and even moderately boring for me, drifting off had been too
tempting for me to fight against. So yeah, despite my many brave efforts, I had eventually
ended up gracing Al with the very pretty sight of his lover, all rolled up in her own hair and
blankets and snoring away in bed, every freaking evening of this week.

Girlfriend of the year right here.

But not this evening! This evening, I was prepared. I had a plan, after all!

CcC

I wish I could say it was a piece of cake to keep myself awake long enough for Alastor to
come to bed without me needing to practically inject coffee into my veins, but nope – it was
hard. Seriously, I had even cleverly decided to read a creepy thriller novel in bed to keep me
up, but to no avail. No matter how creepy the bad guy in that story was, in the end, my bed
was just too soft and warm and plush to resist – and by the time I hoped Al would come to
bed, I had almost nodded off at least three times already.

Fourth time could be the charm, so after that third time, I sat up some more, crudely slapped
my cheeks to wake me up some more and – for a moment – seriously contemplated that
coffee-injection plan, when Al, thankfully, opened the door and entered the bedroom.

“Hi Al,” I cheerfully greeted him right off the bat, not even giving him time to decently
register me. When he did, however, he was perplexed to see me awake.

“Charlie?” he started, walking up to the bed and slipping out of his red coat. “Why aren’t you
sleeping, my dear? It’s well past midnight!”

“I wanted to stay up and wait for you,” I explained.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted to wait for you.”

“Oh, well, that’s – very sweet of you, but you shouldn’t have bothered! I don’t mind coming
into your bedroom and seeing your peaceful, slumbering figure warming up the bed. Waiting
for mine to join it.” He smiled as he began to unbutton his dress shirt as well. “It’s a rather
comforting sight, truth be told.”

“I know you don’t mind.” I pushed some of my hair behind my ear. “But I just… wanted to
stay up this time. You know, since you always stay up for me.”

“You do realize that’s mostly because I have the most horrible difficulties with falling asleep,
don’t you?” Alastor said with a curt laugh, padding off into the bathroom. “I don’t want to be
a spoilsport, but if I could fall asleep like any normal person could, I’d most likely be fast
asleep every night, instead of waiting for you!”

“Would you?” I listened to him rummaging in the other room, as I fidgeted with the sheets. “I
don’t know about that. I think you would wait for me either way.”

Alastor didn’t give a response to that and after a little while, he re-emerged into the bedroom,
clad in his nightwear. I observed him carefully as he approached the bed and took care of the
lights on the nightstands and stuff. Yeah – as I had expected, he looked pretty drained. It
apparently didn’t matter he had been working so hard this week, his stubborn body still just
wouldn’t grant him one easy night’s sleep.

The room got dark and the mattress dipped when Al got into bed at last. I laid down as well
and looked into the big, black nothingness above me, waiting for him to get comfortable. The
second I heard him breathe out tiredly, I could almost hear him dread the rest of the night –
and I immediately felt the need to comfort him, somehow. So I slipped one of my hands
underneath the covers, searching for his.

I didn’t have to examine the bed for very long: turns out his hand was looking for mine as
well, and barely had mine made a faint contact with his, or Al made sure to instantaneously
envelop my fingers with his own, pointy digits. He clumsily tried to lock our fingers together,
but he missed a few of mine in the swift action. It didn’t matter too much for him: he didn’t
attempt to grip my hand better, but simply lightly grazed the tips of his fingers over my skin.
“I appreciate it though,” I heard him say after a few moments of serene nothing at all, “that
you stayed awake for me.”

“It’s the least I could do.” I turned my face into his direction. “After everything that you have
done for me, this week.”

A dry, short laugh. “Ha! You make it sound like what I did was all that impressive!”

“For me it was.” I scooted closer to him until I was face to face with him, letting go of his
hand. “And I should reward you for that.”

Although it was pitch-black in the bedroom, Alastor’s left, red eye emitted a weak light. It
did that sometimes, especially when he was caught off guard – like right now. I could tell he
was thinking about something to say to that, but before he could, I curled myself up against
him, put my hand on the back of his neck, gently slid it upwards, to the back of his head, and
connected our lips with a silent, yet insistent push.

Alastor made a surprised noise that immediately died in the back of his throat and he froze up
for a bit, before replying to my kiss and winding his arms around my upper body. It was a
delicate, tender kiss – nothing like the wet ones we exchanged in the ballroom last week. It
was a kiss that told me he was at his most vulnerable state of mind right now – a position he
very rarely allowed himself to be in, nor allowed others to notice he was in.

But here, in my arms, in-between the soothing sheets of my bed and in the safety of the calm
darkness, he carefully lowered his walls.

I wondered how many of those he had. I wondered how many of those I had yet to break
down and conquer. I wondered if he’d let me.

Softly, I pushed Al back on his back and climbed on top of him, not yet pulling away from
his lips. Underneath me, I could feel a minor hint of unease as Alastor’s hands took hold of
my hips, which were straddling him – but he didn’t know quite what to do with them.

“Charlie,” he said in a somewhat throaty voice, when I finally ended the kiss, “I – apologize,
sweetheart, but I don’t feel like making love with you right now.”

“Neither do I,” I quickly reassured him, “and that wasn’t what I meant when I said I wanted
to reward you. It doesn’t have anything to do with sex.”

“Ah.” I could feel the tenseness in his muscles ease down right away and his hands loosened
up a little. “Alright. In that case… what do you want to reward me with?”

“Well,” I mumbled, putting my hands on his shoulders, “I don’t really want to tell you. That
would kind of spoil it. I... think it’s better if you’d just… trust me and let me.”

Alastor in- and exhaled unhurriedly, but I sensed his brain was trying its hardest to wrap itself
around my proposition and find a logical and good answer to it. In this moment of strained
quietness, his hands let go of my hips altogether and moved further up, drawing circular and
triangular figures on my back.
“Will I like this reward you’re speaking of?”

“Yes.”

“A lot?”

“I think so, yes.”

“It sounds like a surprise.” He let out a frustrated moan. “And I don’t like surprises. Because
I don’t know what is coming. What to expect.”

“Just trust me, Al.” I gave a squeeze to his shoulders. “Do you trust me?”

He stared at me in complete silence. Yet another silence – a long one, this time. Had I been
younger and less familiar with – well, him, I could have seen this awkward reaction as an
insult, as something hurtful: why was he so hesitant to trust me while he himself did expect
me to trust him right away, the second he suggested something? Unfair! Heresy! Kick him out
of the bed!

Right?

But I kept quiet and waited patiently, not wanting to force anything.

At last, Alastor gave me a very small nod.

“Very well – since you trusted me, I’ll trust you. It’s only fair.”

“I-it is,” I agreed, feeling my heart soar in my chest in relief, and looked down on him with a
grateful little smile. My hair fell off my shoulders, partly into his face, and I giggled as I
wiped my locks away from his features. He smiled as well, albeit a bit anxiously. His
inhumane, claw-shaped hands travelled further up my back, then went down my shoulders,
until they rested on my lower arms.

“Just relax, Al. Okay?”

“I will try.”

Well that sounded more promising than I had expected, really.

Carefully and very slowly, I leaned closer to him, tried to ignore those huge eyes that
cautiously kept track of what I did, and rekindled the sweet passion of the earlier kiss by
brushing my lips against his once more. I took his face in my hands, pulling back a little –
then kissing him again. The first couple of kisses all landed on his mouth, the ones after these
sneakily wandered off to his cheeks, his jawline, his forehead and even his eyes, as his half-
opened eyelids had finally started to close themselves completely. As I felt him sigh and
gradually give in to my affectionate touches more and more, I continued placing feather-light
kisses on his face. I even dared to move down and peck a few on his throat and in his neck,
where his scars began to take shape… but I never went lower than that. Like this, I placed
butterfly smooches all over him, at a certain point mumbling in-between hushed kisses just
how much I loved what he had been doing for me. And lots – lots – more.
Gently though – extremely gently, it was important I didn’t move too fast.

“This week,” I breathed against his mouth, while he dug his sharp fingers into the skin of my
arms, like he was bracing himself, “you made me feel so special and so important, Al – so
loved and appreciated – it… it’s been a while since the last time somebody has made me feel
this good. Thank you. Thank you. You have no idea how much I crave for this kind of
romantic affection – I didn’t even realize it myself. I love you – I love you so much, Al, and
now it’s my turn to tell you what exactly I love about mwnm—”

Alastor all of a sudden raised his face and screwed our lips together again. I automatically
kissed him back, relishing into the sincerity of his abrupt reply. However, his nails were still
boring themselves into my arms, as if he was unable to contain himself, as if he couldn’t
stand his own impulses. I vaguely wondered if he held some sort of frustration within him –
but that was wiped off my mind as soon as I reminded myself that this reaction of his was
proof that I was not done yet.

Somehow, I managed to pry both of his hands off me, clasped them tightly and calmly
pushed them down, next to his face. For a minute, it seemed like he wanted to struggle, for
whatever reason that could be – but he didn’t, probably because he was just too overtaxed,
and he simply looked at me, his expression obscured by my hair.

“I love your stupid puns,” I wheezed, blowing my bangs out of my eyes, “and I love your
zany characteristics and manners. I love the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you
dance. God I love the way you dance. I love your smiles – all of them, even the hysterical
ones, the dark ones, the fake ones. I love those weird tufts of hair of yours. I love your thin,
pointy, impossible body, and how it slots together with mine. I love your grotesque hands. I
love your insane determination, how… how nothing – and I mean nothing – stops you from
reaching your goal. Whatever goal that is.”

Alastor may have been too fatigued to react verbally, but his hands solidly gripped mine.
Again, I felt his nails pricking into my skin unforgivingly hard. This time, he even drew
blood – it trickled down my hand. I bit my lower lip and paid it no mind.

“I-I love the way you look at me when you think I don’t know you’re looking at me,” I
carried on with a cracked voice, “and I love how you refuse to look away, even when you
realize I know you are looking at me. I love your radio audience, even though I don’t even
know just… what or who they are, or know how many guys are actually in there.”

“Fifty,” Alastor managed, unexpectedly. “My – audience consists of fifty invisible, possibly
imaginative people and they all – they all adore you. They always pick your side.”

“Fifty?! God, I – do they actually have names?”

“My dear, some of them even have pets.”

I laughed, happy with his cute little remark and the look on his face, and promptly pressed
another kiss on his smile.
 “I love that about you as well,” I whispered right after. “How you fill my heart up with your
humor and your honest compliments, with your chaotic, helpless affection for me, with
everything you do to try and make me feel good. How you accept and see me as the person I
am. How you encourage me. Help me. Love me. Thank you, my darling – thank you so much
for that.”

Alastor watched me with glassy eyes and wanted to stammer something – but again allowed
his words to get swallowed up when I captured his now raw-kissed lips yet again. He let it all
happen and rain down on him with a resigned, blissful smile.

Ultimately, his movements got slower, his vice-like grip lost its hurtful hold and I could tell –
feel – the overload of praises, cuddles and kisses, and his eventual acceptance of them, were
slowly but surely soothing Alastor enough to lull him to sleep.

That’s right.

That had been my plan all along.

Praising, kissing and hugging the man to sleep.

It had been – a crazy plan, I know. Still, I drowsily came to the conclusion it had actually
worked when Alastor, almost desperately, pulled my (now just as worn-out) body against his
and cut my stream of compliments off with a lingering, last kiss. While my eyes shut
themselves and I let go of his hands, he wrapped his arms around me and pushed my face
into his neck. He smelled nice, warm, like a downpour on a drowsy afternoon in Summer,
and it quietened me instantly.

No more words were spoken – and much to my delight, I felt him dozing off literally two
seconds later. The way his body and limbs suddenly yielded and completely relaxed – it was
enough to convince me he really was asleep. The whole lovely ordeal had been pretty
tiresome for me, too, and not even a minute later, I was out like a light as well.

And just like I had hoped, we didn’t wake up until it was way past noon the very next day.

Chapter End Notes

After her mother passes away, Karen gets adopted by a wealthy old lady - and the girl
grows up rich and spoiled. Her foster parent one day buys her a set of red shoes. Karen
loves the shoes and wants to wear them to church, but the old lady says it’s improper to
wear anything but black shoes in church. However, Karen can’t resist them and puts on
the shoes anyway. Right before she enters the church, a soldier compliments her on her
shoes and taps on them, saying: “Never come off when you dance.” Kind of a dick
move, because when Karen later leaves the church, the shoes take over control and make
her dance all day long.
When her adoptive mother dies, Karen can’t even attend to the funeral due to her
dancing shoes. An enraged Angel appears before her and curses her, forcing her to
dance, even after her death, as a warning to vain children everywhere. Things get even
more brutal though: because Karen is unable to stop dancing, she begs an executioner to
chop off her feet. He does that (and the shoes keep on dancing with the amputated feet in
them and all) and he gives her a pair of wooden feet and some crutches. Karen then
attempts to go to church to ask for forgiveness, but the gruesome red shoes bar the way,
every time she tries to enter the church. In the end, the poor girl stays at home and prays
for help there… and the Angel reappears, finally forgiving her. Karen’s heart gets so
fulfilled that it bursts and she dies.

A rather hardcore fairytale, made up by Hans Christian Andersen. It was inspired by an

incident he saw happening between his father, who was a shoemaker, and a rich lady.
Long story short: the rich lady didn’t like the red-leathered shoes he had made for her
daughter and said he had wasted her silk. Andersen’s dad replied: “Might as well waste
my leather too, then,” and destroyed the shoes right in front of her!
 Diana and Actaeon
Chapter Summary

Alastor and Charlie enjoy a comfortable morning, until an unexpected visitor shows up.

Chapter Notes

This is what Chisena thinks how our lovely couple will look like at Lucifer's ball. They
look absolutely stunning!!^^

See the end of the chapter for more notes

When I opened my eyes the next day and observed to my utmost amazement that the entire
bedroom was illuminated by the hellishly-bright sunlight coming from outside, I swiftly
came to the mind-blowing conclusion that I, for the first time in forever, had overslept.

I. Alastor. The ever-so-wary Radio Demon, who barely ever slept a wink and woke up around
seven to eight times each and every night, despising the restlessness of my tired body and
mind and sometimes even staying up all night because of the relentlessness of my chronic
insomnia…

…had actually overslept.

Not only that, but I had slept like a log as well. I faintly recalled drifting off to sleep to the
sweet tones of Charlie’s enchanting voice. I was locked firmly into her embrace, not being
able to do anything but permitting my darling princess to put me to sleep in her own
charming ways – and that was it. That was all I could remember before falling asleep.

I hadn’t woken up once and I hadn’t have any nightmares, either.

I had simply slept. Like a person. A normal one.

Oh my good lord!

How long had I even slept? It was already daytime outside! This wasn’t what I had in mind
for this day! I was supposed to get up early and prepare myself and Charlie for what was
going to come – not sleep in late and linger around in bed!

Almost having a minor panic attack and yet still moving as few limbs as possible (since
Charlie was still resting her lovely head on my chest and looked so peaceful and comfortable,
all snuggled up against me like that), I snatched Charlie’s little telephone device off the
nightstand and took a gander at it.

It was noon. Later than that, even: normally, me and Charlie would already be enjoying our
break time in the library around this time.

I then realized I had a straight twelve-hours of sleep.

Well, I… well. That was quite something!

Letting out a weak chuckle, I put the phone back and sighed, closing my eyes again and
forcing my swirling mind to calm down. I had once read somewhere that cuddling something
cute and adorable helped reducing your stress levels, so I awkwardly started to pet Charlie’s
blonde hair, that was blithely curled around me. It helped. But then again – having Charlie
nearby almost always had a positive effect on my state of mind.

It was no use to stress out or blow a gasket over sleeping in late at this point. There was
nothing that could be done about the current situation, after all – I couldn’t turn back the
hands of time and I couldn’t simply shove Charlie off of me and make a beeline for the
bedroom door to try and get certain things done anyway.

…well alright, I could shove her off, there’s no mistake in that, but that would be terribly
impolite.

So I didn’t.

I settled down some more, resigning myself in my constricted, yet pleasant position. This –
actually wasn’t too bad, in all fairness. I felt astonishingly… refreshed and well-rested. There
were worse things in Hell than harmoniously waking up from a very good night’s sleep in the
arms of your slumbering lover, that is a fact.

As I absentmindedly let my fingers play around with Charlie’s beautiful golden locks of hair,
I wondered, though: why had nobody woken us up yet? I remembered Charlie once overslept
for a meager half hour – this was before we had become romantically involved with one
another and shortly after her and Vaggie’s relationship had ended, by the by – and the poor
girl was spending the remainder of the day getting viciously nagged at by (a still heartbroken)
Vaggie for her insolence.

Today, however, nothing of the sorts had happened yet. Strange.

Hmm…

My oh my – could it be?

Was I being roped into somebody’s little scheme?

Grinning and getting more and more curious and impatient, I stared digging into the blonde
heap on my chest, until I felt the contours of Charlie’s soft face underneath my fingertips –
and I raised it up, squeezing and poking into her dainty, sleepy, pink cheeks until I could hear
her utter some annoyed groans.
“Ow – ouch – stoppit,” she grumbled, her pretty dark eyes finally opening up and glowering
at me. “What gives, Al, I—”

I was quick to press a kiss on those pouty lips and muffle whatever rightful complain had
been trying to get out.

Charlie was about as weak as I was when it came down to being overwhelmed by sudden
affection – and yes, this time as well, she instantly gave in to my kiss and softened over her
entire body. As I wrapped her up in my arms, I made sure to caress her aching cheeks, too,
and by the time I felt her chuckle a bit, I knew I could pull back and – well, actually wish her
a good morning.

“Yeah – good morning, Al…” Charlie smiled endearingly at me with half-closed eyes,
yawned and sat up on my lap some more. A bit confused and out of it, she wiped her mouth
and looked around the room. I kept a careful eye on her as she did so and noticed – literally
noticed ¬– Charlie reminding herself about something, as her eyes grew bigger in realization.
She also seemed to be awfully pleased with herself.

She snapped her face back to me and tried to keep her tone neutral and nonchalant as she
asked me what time it was.

“It’s almost one in the afternoon,” I told her, letting my hands rest on the curves of her thighs.

She pretended to be amazed, even faking a little gasp and raising a hand to her face. “Oh
wow, looks like we overslept!”

I cast my eyes upwards. “Oh no! Whatever shall we do?”

She wanted to answer me, but changed her mind before actually speaking up. Charlie might
not have been the best liar, she was quick to spot sarcasm when it was thrown at her – and
she locked her eyes with mine, falling quiet for a little while as she came to the unnerving,
yet not surprising conclusion that I knew.

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it,” I gently remarked. “Making me oversleep.”

Her whole face bloomed most graciously as Charlie exhaled in puffs and kept staring at me,
busted and speechless. In the end, she gave me a little nod, though, and wrung her hands
together. I then spotted some wounds on her hands’ fair skin and felt a small flash of concern
shooting through me.

Not saying anything either, I sat up some more as well and took her delicate little hands in
mine, studying the – fortunately not too deep – marks my nails had left in them the other
night. I didn’t know where Charlie’s adorable little first-aid-kit was, so I snapped in my
fingers and simply let a wet piece of cloth magically take form.

“I – yesterday, I asked Vaggie to please take care of the hotel for today,” Charlie easily
confessed, wincing as I tended to her wounds. “Because I – ow – wanted you to sleep in –
and because you probably wouldn’t be able to sleep in at all, unless I'd be here to hold and
monitor you.”
“Hm-hm,” I hummed, wiping away the partly-faded trail of blood on her skin. “That does
explain your rather eccentric, yet still indubitably delightful ploy last night, to get me to
sleep.”

“I wanted to soothe your thoughts, Al.”

She stunned me for a second by pressing a sudden kiss to my forehead. She aimed for the
cross there – she always aimed for the cross.

“I – well.” I made the cloth disappear and looked up at her, observing the slight frown
marring her attractive face. “You – didn’t have to, my dear. I understand why you‘d think my
thoughts needed to get soothed, but you didn’t have to go that far.”

Charlie’s frown deepened and she rolled her eyes skeptically at me. “Yyyeah... hey – when
did you wake up again?”

“Just a couple of minutes before you did.”

“That means you slept for twelve hours, Al.”

“It does mean just that. So?”

“So you needed it. The soothing. The sleep. The… peace of mind. You craved for it.”

Effectively hushed, I looked at her, feeling both called out and a bit lost.

“That’s okay.” Charlie smiled and wrapped her arms around my neck. I felt her legs rounded
themselves around my lower body as well, pulling us flush together and making me stir. “I’m
happy you needed it, since it gave me the chance to successfully execute my plan. After all,
people sleep a whole lot better once there aren’t nagging worries and problems keeping their
head occupied. Maybe I didn’t exactly solve your problems – but I did knock out your busy
brain.”

I laughed. I sounded a lot more timid than I had thought - or wanted to sound. “That you did,
my love – that you did.”

Charlie looked like she wanted to say something more and moved closer, but then a sudden
jolt ran up both her as well as my own spine, as she slid over my…

Ahem.

Nocturnal penile tumescence.

Look it up.

Charlie blinked as she stared down at – that, for a couple of seconds. Then she slowly raised
her head again and gave me a sly, seductive smile.

“Oh. Oh. Okay Al – you seem to be very energetic this morning… why is that?”
“Ah, talking about my reproductive organ, I see.” I smirked and snaked my hands down her
warm shape, until I paused their movements in the small of her back. “Do you want the
scientific explanation for my ‘energy’ this morning or the sultry one?”

Charlie liked that question, I noted. She bit her lower lip, already more than ready for what
was going to happen.

“T-the sultry one, please.”

“Are you sure?” My hands disappeared into her – awfully small, dear god, it was basically
hypothetical – underwear, making Charlie quiver and sigh heatedly as I cupped her bottom.
“The sultry explanation doesn’t come with words, though…”

It… also wasn’t much of an explanation at all, but who cared about that at this point?

I didn’t wait for her obvious reply – and she didn’t even let out as much as a shriek when I
slithered my hands even further down and, most expertly, flipped her on her back without
warning. I climbed on top of her right after.

“I-I don’t mind that it doesn’t come with… words,” Charlie said breathlessly, her cheeks
flushed, her eyes two shining orbs of the brightest light as she gazed up at me. “I’ve – I’ve
always liked real-life demonstrations way better anyway.”

That made me squawk a bit – it was quite amusing how Charlie always flawlessly went along
with whatever silly metaphor I had cooked up and she seemed to find them genuinely funny,
too. Now as well, as she was lying underneath me, on the softness of her bed, with her long,
mesmerizing sun-soaked hair fanned out proudly around her head. Her lacy nightgown
wrinkled up all the way to her breasts. There was a giddy smile playing around her lips – and
she happily answered the kiss I attacked her oh so sweet mouth with.

“What would you like,” I wanted to know, hovering above her (while Charlie wound an
impatient leg around my hips and almost made me crash down back on top of her), “do you
need me to ravish you down there with my mouth or would you rather have something vaster
inside of your ridiculously exquisite body, my love?”

“Both,” Charlie wheezed.

I grinned and clicked my tongue. “My, aren’t we greedy today.”

“That’s what you get for being gallant and asking me what I want, Al.” Charlie’s lush voice
was thick with want and thirst and yet, it sounded also so tender at the same time. She rolled
her still clothed, yet already fairly moist abdomen lewdly up against my crotch, making my
arms holding me up tremble dangerously. “I want it all.”

Resolutely, I ran my hands down her legs and folded both of them around me. I lowered
myself on her completely, pressing her into the white, wooly bedsheets below her. “Then
you’ll get it all, my darling Charlie.”
She laughed softly, entranced, and gripped at my nightwear. The charming sweetheart then
closed her eyes when I put my mouth on hers again and she helpfully held up her arms while
I – painstakingly careful – started peeling her thin nightgown off of her.

It felt right: Charlie felt right, this position felt right, my body felt right – everything felt
right, all was ready to take this further, and yet, there still was something that didn’t feel right
about this. Something located a little further away from the two of us. Something…

…perverse.

I’m not entirely sure why or how I was able to, but I found myself tearing my eyes away
from my delicious Charlie’s writhing figure for a second, only to meet multiple eyes in
multiple colors looking back at me from the (now suddenly opened?!) bedroom door, while
their owner grinned his disgusting, broad, slightly nervous mouth as wide as he was able to.

“Uh… hiya, smiles!” Angel Dust sounded a bit shrill. “IIIIII see that you’re about to pound
some angelic monster fawns into the princess, soooooo I better come back later and leave ya
at it, heheh…”

He winked at me, then gently closed the door again.

Needless to say, that spider-abomination was a goner.

DdD

Yeah yeah, I get it, I get it: I probably should’ve known, right?

I should’ve known better than to just walk up to Charlie’s bedroom door and chuck it open,
looking straight at the bed, like the hot daredevil I am, and not expecting some sort of cursed
killer-deer-on-demonic-angel-girl-action going on in there.

But hey! HEY! In my defense…

I’m a fucking moron.

I rest my case.

But yeah, I could tell Alastor wasn’t really happy with seeing my mug at the door as he was
busy untangling the princess from her skanky little babydoll-thingy (fucking hilarious how
the red bastard was actually struggling with it and apparently found the nightgown too nice to
just shred it apart with those creepy crab-hands of his, heh), so it was a good decision of mine
to softly close the door again.

There we go.

For a few seconds, nothing happened after that… and as those few seconds ticked by, I
suspected Alastor had either fainted from the sheer shock of almost getting catch in the sexy
act, or that he had just frozen up completely, becoming a virgin-popsicle (‘cause deflowered
or not, that smiling freakshow will never lose all of his virginity, no matter how many times
he bones Charlie).

But just when I thought I would live to see another stinking day in Hell, I heard something…
rumbling from the other side of the door. Then, I heard something… buzzing. Like a fire was
crackling. And after that, something suddenly hit the other side of the door with a nauseating
smack and thud – and I instantly turned even whiter than I already was, grabbed the doorknob
tightly and Jesus fucking Christ he’s trying to open it oh my fucking god keep the door shut
keep the door shut keep the fucking door shut!

“Charlieeeeeee!” I screeched from the top of my lungs, holding on the doorknob for dear life
as Alastor now loudly tried to fucking claw himself through the damn door holy shitballs,
“Charlie – for Christ’s sake woman, put yer boobs back in the net and keep yer fuckin’ furry
Romeo in check, before he fuckin’ kills me dead!”

More unsettling stumbling on the other side of the door, more unholy radio noises that almost
fucking pierced my eardrums and a new sound – the sound of Charlie’s high-pitched, panicky
jabbering, as she – presumably – pried Alastor off the door and dragged him away from it.

As I kept on holding on to the door (wasn’t taking any chances here) and anxiously listened
to the hushed talking and hissing in the room behind it, I recovered my breath. I felt my blood
run cold when I looked at the door up close and saw long slits and cracks in it already. Holy
fucking shit, that asshole would’ve fucking sliced me to pieces if Charlie hadn’t used her
magical Charlie-powers on him! I should have known that that before barging in! And yet I
didn’t!

God I was an even bigger fucking moron than I thought!

On the other hand, would I, with my voyeuristic interests and living-on-the-edge-way of life
and all that, have opened the bedroom door in the first place, had I known that it was only
Alastor or Charlie in there, with like zero chances of seeing some erotic, yet wholesome
intimacy?

Tricky one.

I would’ve loved to think about this interesting little dilemma for a bit longer – but then the
talking on the other side of the room was put to an end and I nearly fell face-first onto the
floor when the wooden entrance to Charlie’s bedroom was abruptly opened. I managed to
maintain my balance at the very last second though, and stared right into the apologetic face
of Charlie.
“H-hello Angel!” she grinned, pulling up the band of her nightgown. “How are you doing
this – this fine day?”

“Better now,” I commented, as I peeked over her shoulder and quickly did an one-over on the
bedroom. No Alastor in sight – I guess she had pushed him into the adjunct bathroom.

Charlie gave me a fearful look. “Oh god – he didn’t hurt you, did he? Was I too late?”

I weakly hand-waved her concern away. “Nahh, no worries, toots, ya got him before he could
get me. And – uh, yea, I guess I was the one in the wrong here. I shouldn’t’ve opened the
door while knowing you two could be goin’ at it.”

Charlie forced out an embarrassed laugh and took hold of her bangs of hair, fidgeting with
them. Not really my thing – but I had to admit it was kind of cute to see once again that the
experienced, promiscuous Princess of Hell was such a fucking prude outside of the bedroom
(or at least partially outside of it, in this case). She and that sexually-awkward deer-asshole
made a fine couple of old maids, they did.

“So anyway… did you need us? Or me? Or Al?” Charlie then urgently asked me.

“Just Al, actually,” I replied. “There’s this posh lady for him waiting downstairs. She’s been
here for a lil’ while now and though both she and Vags kept tellin’ me to not disturb the two
of ya, this gal’s givin’ me the heebie-jeebies – so I figured I should just come up and fetch
him anyway.”

“A lady? For Al?” Charlie gave me a perplexed stare. The strap of her nightgown was starting
to slip off her shoulder again. I faintly wondered what that would look like if I was wearing
something like that. Or Vaggie.

Before my thoughts could get off-track any further, I snorted. “Whoa. Are ya that amazed
that there’s another dame in his life, huh?”

As to be expected from her, Charlie recollected herself pretty quickly and furrowed her brows
at me. “Actually, I happen to know that Al has two friends in his life that are women. I just –
didn’t expect any of them here today. Or… well, any day, really.”

“Oh really?” I watched the strap fall down Charlie’s shoulder all the way, almost revealing
part of the now distracted princess’ impressive knockers. Honka-donk-donk. “Well she’s still
here, blondie. And I think she’s here on Al’s ord—”

“Yes!” Alastor popped up behind Charlie all of a sudden, all happy and peppy and not-
murderous at all, nearly giving me a goddamn stroke, “please allow me to thank you for your
very helpful information, my lurking, treacherous friend – I think I’ll take it over from here!”

I glared at him and wanted to snarl something at the Radio Asswipe, since he was being such
a scary fuckface – but that smiling, overbearing face of his was just too off-putting, and I
ended up remaining silent. He cackled nonsensically and didn’t lose eye-contact with me as
he put one of his dagger-like claws on Charlie’s pale shoulder and used one of his other
fingers to smoothly, yet slooowly pull Charlie’s loose strap back up.
Like he was mocking me for actually being able to do that with his love interest.

“Was that all?” he wanted to know.

“Uh. Yea,” I said, finally looking away from the little gesture. “Sooo… what should I say to
yer ladyfriend down in the lobby?”

“Tell her that we will be down in a second. My lovely Charlie and I need to get dressed, after
all – don’t we, my dear?” Not waiting for an answer, Alastor swiftly pushed Charlie back into
the room, reached for the doorknob and gave me one last, patronizing look. “Now – get out
of my sight, you peeping scumbag, before I release my black tentacles and choke the life
out of you.”

Now that was almost threatening. I snickered, raised an eyebrow handsomely and wanted to
tell him how bold it was of him to assume I’d mind his kinky black tentacles choking me –
but the good ol’ strawberry pimp had slammed the bedroom door shut before any slutty
remarks could be spoken out.

Eh, whatever.

I shrugged, spun around and made my way back to the entrance hall downstairs, my aloof
smile rapidly fading from my face as the image of a sulky, yet bashful Vaggie, pulling on the
hem of an adorable little babydoll, was quietly stuck somewhere in the back of my mind.

It was in a place I usually didn’t reserve for such gooey, female imagery.

Yet here we are.

Here we fucking are.

AaA

Sometimes, I simply forgot about the fact that Charlie had been extremely unlucky in many
of her past relationships. And that she had more than enough reasons to doubt her current
romantic partner, based on the painful memories that had remained with her after the
heartache had been over.

Even if this person was an asexual being that had never even thought about romantic love,
before meeting her.

According to the scarce information she had (begrudgingly) shared with me over the past few
months, quite a few of Charlie’s former partners had been – pardon my French – gigantic,
cheating, unfaithful bastards. Since she was a woman who felt attracted to both males and
females, one would think she had more than enough opportunities to find someone suitable
for her over the years – but the fact that she had ended up with me after experiencing so many
failed, miserable relationships over decades, maybe even centuries…
Well, it showed that the girl wasn’t blessed with the best judgment of character, let me put it
at that. Ha ha!

She was aware of this, however. She knew her taste in romantic partners was… questionable
at best, most of the time. Goodness, I daresay that Vaggie probably had been the healthiest,
most decent lover of all – but look at what that had brought to the two of them: burning
heartaches, unsaid frustrations and – may I say it? – cold, hard boredom.

Charlie liked having a companion that challenged her, that kept her alert, that demanded her
full attention. She probably longed for some simple intimacy as well – but why settle for just
intimacy if you could have both that and some thrilling excitement?

I liked to think she had found that with me. I was more than happy to offer her both. I’d give
her all the love I could find within my corrupted, yet not uncaring heart, I’d give her all the
intimacy I was able to share with her, I’d amuse her as much as she’d like me to. All of this –
it was no problem for me.

But those former, bordering on traumatic relationships of hers… it had made Charlie cautious
of possible rivals in love. After all, it had happened before – lovers had been stolen or walked
away from her before, so why should she think things would be different with me? Even if
she knew I had never fallen in love before, I eventually had – with her. So who was to say I
wouldn’t fall in love with another lady that had been in my (after)life for quite some time?

I understood her worry very well.

However, she absolutely needn’t to worry.

For goodness sake, I’d rather drown myself in the nearest fiery lava-pit than to hook up with
the likes of Rosie. Ha ha ha! Oh no no, I liked and respected myself too much to try and keep
up with that wacky broad’s antics!

So as soon as I had shooed Angel Dust off (I’d get back at that disgusting weasel some other
time), I made sure to tell Charlie what the exact reason was for Rosie’s visit. In all fairness, I
had wanted to tell her about Rosie from the start (in any case before my dear partner-in-crime
would show up at the door all of a sudden, as she... eventually ended up doing anyway), but
thanks to all the events this morning, I hadn’t been able to tell her sooner.

“She’s part of yet another something special I have prepared for you,” I explained to Charlie,
as I slipped my arms into my coat.

“Something special, you say?” Charlie, who was brushing her hair and looked at me via the
mirror, gave me a quizzical, mostly neutral look, her face not revealing any other emotions.

In a split second, I saw something flashing over Charlie’s reflection in the mirror. A hint of
red, of white, of fire.

Oh my.
I blinked. I didn’t know what to say to such a face and to such a brief, yet intense reaction, so
I simply stood still and calmly watched her, putting my arms on my back.

At last, Charlie seemed to notice my unease and quickly cracked an apologizing smile. “Oh –
I’m sorry, Al. To – be like this. To react like this. That’s very unfair of me to do, especially
since I have no reason at all to be suspicious of your friendship with this Rosie.”

I instantly shook my head. “No no, my love, I understand perfectly. I’m also partly to blame:
I should have told you as soon as possible, and not wait for… that spider fellow to barge in
and tell you instead. But, like I said, she’s part of a surprise – she made it, even.”

“Rosie made something for me?”

“She did! She had also made the clothes we wore last week.”

Finally, unaffected happiness broke through on my lover’s lovely face, and her cheeks
colored just that tiny bit redder as she turned away from the mirror, beaming brightly at me.

“O-oh god! That was Rosie’s work? Wow, Al, she really is a great – wait, did she make your
awful pirate shirt as well?”

“…no.”

“Oh wow, she really is a great seamstress!”

I rolled my eyes and grinned, relieved to see her mood had improved, and walked to the door
of the bedroom. “She most definitely is! She’s – well, she’s a lot of things, in all honesty, but
she excels as a seamstress and dressmaker. Why, I bet she’s talented enough to one day even
make it as a Royal sewer!”

“A Royal sewer, huh…”

Opening the door, I had caught the somewhat lonely tone her voice had, when speaking out
the sentence. I turned around and saw Charlie standing right behind me, her head lowered,
her arms rubbing one another as she muttered something under her breath.

“What’s the matter, my dear?” I put my hands on her upper arms. I thought about lifting her
face, as I usually did, but for some reason, I chose to not do that, this time.

“Hey Al – do you think I should… dress more appropriately? Behave more appropriately?”
As I expected, Charlie raised her face herself.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well – do you think I should dress and act more like a princess?” Her eyes looked
conflicted. “I – um, wonder about that, sometimes.”

I tilted my head. “Sweetheart – you are a princess. You could roll around in the mud, wear
nothing but rags and behave like a wild animal, but at the end of the day, you’d still be a
princess. It can’t be helped!”
 “That’s not what I—”

“You are perfectly fine the way you are, Charlie.”

Charlie’s cheeks blossomed, like a beautiful rose, and her jaw dropped a little. Her expression
got more open, flushed and relieved, and without saying a word, she stepped closer to me and
pressed her hot face into my chest. I chuckled and gently caressed her hair.

“I’m… not perfect, Al,” she mumbled.

“I never said you were,” I said. “But dear god, are you on the verge of it.”

That made her burst into a bubbly, light laughter, vibrating against my chest and through the
rest of my body. It was a warm, pleasant sensation.

When the laughter stopped, Charlie looked up at me, still smiling. “You’re funny, Al.”

Despite everything, I felt a bit puzzled. “Why? I’m not kidding.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s what makes you so funny – not to mention incredibly adorable.”

She giggled, grabbed my chin and pressed an appreciative smooch against my lips. The
unforseen action and the blood-tingling sensation it caused was enough to make my head spin
for a bit.

Though I still wanted to know what exactly she meant to say, Charlie then grabbed my hand
and opened the door of the bedroom a little more. Giving my hand a slight pull, she tried to
convince me to follow her out of the room.

“Come along now, Al – we can’t keep your friend waiting! That’s rude!”

Her hand was sweet, kind and fitted so well in mine, and I found myself forgetting about
whatever that may have been hidden in Charlie’s words as we left the bedroom. I had more
problems to be concerned about after all, and now that Charlie and I had left the safe confines
of her private chamber, my mind was already occupied with the next step of the plan.

Chapter End Notes

Actaeon is a young and bright hunter who one days goes out for a hunt. While he roams
the woods near his home, he unwittingly stumbles upon a couple of naked ladies, who
happen to be enjoying a bath in a forest spring. Actaeon is spotted right away and the
women all begin to scream in horror. You might think that this is just an unfortunate
encounter and that after some yelling and apologizing, Actaeon should have been able to
get away scot-free – if these people had indeed been ordinary ladies. However – they
were Diana, the Roman Goddess of the Hunt, and her escort of nymphs! Diana, famous
for her chasteness and her despise of men, goes absolutely berserk when she sees the
young guy peeping on them and, in a fit of embarrassed fury, splashes water on Actaeon
that transforms him into a deer with long antlers. Actaeon loses his ability to speak and
is – rightfully – terrified of what happened to him, so he flees in fear… only to get
mauled by his own hunting dogs a little while later.

One of the many myths that can be found back in Ovid’s “Metamorphoses”. Painters
back then really liked to make art based on the moment the young hunter discovers the
Goddess and her nymphs taking a bath. Why? Well, in case you didn’t know yet –
people are naughty creatures. XDDD
 Little Red Riding Hood
Chapter Summary

Rosie pays the hotel a visit, and is amazed to see how much both Alastor and Charlie
have changed.

Chapter Notes

Chisena made even more party clothes for Lucifer and Lilith's party!^^ Click here if
you'd like to see what Luci and Lili will look like, according to Chisena… and scroll
further down to see them and Al and Charlie united in one lovable family pic.
XDDDDDD How wonderful! <3 <3

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Well well well, now wasn’t this just the cutest, quaintest ruby-red lobby I had ever laid my
eyes on! That rascal Alastor hadn’t lied – this daring, attention-seeking kind of interior
decoration style was exactly my cup of tea!

Amused and curious about what else would be here for me to find, I crooked my neck and let
my wide eyes drift over the multiple crimson walls, the scarlet furniture, the gaudy paintings
in the rich, golden frames, the passing, colorless inhabitants of the hotel and, at last, over the
most endearing pale, half-blind moth girl I had seen in years. She had returned from –
wherever she had been, I honestly didn’t care, ah ha ha – and now came to deliver a cup of
rose tea (oh! The lovely irony!) at the redwood-colored table she had stationed me a while
ago.

“Here you go,” she said, carefully placing the darling plate and cup on the table’s surface.
“Also, um, thanks for your patience, ma’am. I just got a text message from Angel Dust – he
said that he’s alerted them. So Alastor and the manager will be downstairs before you know
it. Would you like a cookie with that tea?”

I only partially listened to whatever she was saying – I found it much more interesting to
study her perfect figure from head to toe, nodding approvingly.

“Very nice – very nice indeed!”

She frowned, clutching the tray to her chest. “Uh… so I take it you’d like a cookie?”
“Cookie? Heavens child, I’m talking about your measurements! Your natural poise! Your
plain, yet unavoidable elegance! Grace! And it doesn’t hurt you’re not too ugly to look at,
either – I adore the way you dress and express yourself!” I exposed my teeth and leaned my
chin upon my hand, continuing to eye the girl. “Yes yes – you would fit nicely in my
upcoming show next month! Have you ever modelled before, hmm? Not sure if I can pay you
all that much since I really need the money, but – how about it?”

“I haven’t and no, I’m not interested.”

“No?” I checked her again. “Surely you must have had a profession that had got something to
do with fashion before you ended up in this dump we lovingly call Hell. And you better hand
me a good reason for refusing me as coldly as you did, dolly! Because otherwise, that just
won’t do! Tut tut tut!”

“Ma’am, I—”

“Tut tut!”

“Are you done?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Ma’am, we don’t ‘lovingly’ call this place Hell –
this place is Hell. Period. And back when I was alive, I was too busy with… lying on my
back to even think about fashion. Or anything, really. I rather didn’t think at all.”

I gasped, gently laying a hand on my busty chest. “Goodness gracious me, but what on earth
did you do for a living when you were still dwelling in the land of the living, then?”

“Getting fucked by the most depraved, ruthless people society knows and fears for pennies
on the dollar, mostly. Until one slimy asshole’s secret ambitions to make a revolting snuff
film almost killed one of my colleagues and I had to repeatedly hammer my high heels and a
screwdriver into his skull to save her. That sure did get the point across his ugly, fat, suddenly
dead ass. Then his bud stomped on my throat with his heavy safety boots and broke several
of my cervical vertebrae. I was in great agony for many hours, my co-worker ended up dying
in the end anyway, and, ultimately, so did I.”

Confounded, I stared at her.

“So how about that cookie,” she wanted to know, putting a hand on her waist.

I had to hold back a broad grin. Mercy me! If I hadn’t been a sophisticated lady, I would have
shamefully exhaled through my nostrils at that last, casual comment. Oh dear, this hotheaded
tomboy had some fire in her! I liked her already – she was most entertaining! I was starting to
understand Alastor’s choice to live here more and more!

“Very well, dolly,” I said with a graceful smile, collectedly folding my hands on my legs,
“might as well go for a cookie then!”

RrR
Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long for Alastor to appear. Hardly had I sipped anything
from my delightfully flowery tea, or I heard some footsteps coming down the stairways, just
a few feet away from my table. Distracted, I stopped observing the charming small cleaning
lady zooming about the lobby (oh and wasn’t that little creature a peach, too – shame that she
was too tiny to be useful to me) and watched from afar as Alastor and the manager of the
hotel descended from above.

I’m an engrossed businesswoman and most of the time, certain matters simply – whoosh –
disappeared from my memories. I didn’t like to have my mind cluttered with useless
information I do nothing with when I had a bleeding establishment I needed to look after, so
people should pardon me for momentarily being profoundly puzzled when I realized none
other than Princess Charlotte herself was the hotel’s manager.

It was only for a moment, though! Soon after, I recalled having heard before that Hell’s
Princess had moved in her parents’ old vacation house to make it a place for sinners to
rehabilitate. Naturally, naturally. It all made sense to me very soon, don’t worry.

In silence, I looked at both Alastor and the princess some more. They were discussing
something amusing, I dared to say, and the princess kept laughing most enchantingly. Her
hand was resting on Alastor’s forearm and he guided her down the final few stairs with a
devotion I had seldom seen with him before.

The way he looked at her, touched the smaller hand on his arm, responded to her every move
and word…

Oh my – I almost felt embarrassed watching it!

However, I couldn’t take my eyes of this little spectacle. I found myself picking up the
chocolate cookie the moth girl had given me before and eating a small bit of it, savoring the
extremely sweet taste that, somehow, still wasn’t as sugary as the romantic scene playing
right in front of me.

They both looked so happy.

How very interesting!

RrR

It had been… oh, say, a year or so ago? It was when the girl still lived in the Royal Palace
with King Lucifer and Queen Lilith. Back then, I had decided to finally come visit one of the
Royal Family’s infamous parties – and that’s where I had seen Her Demonic Highness in the
flesh for the very first time: Princess Charlotte Magne, the future ruler of Hell.

A truly beautiful, dignified yet so very unhappy-looking young woman, completely dressed
in the inkiest, most unsuitable black ball gown I had seen in quite a while.
Black: the most unnerving shape of darkness, of death, of fear, of the unknown. Not matter
how breathtaking this non-color could be – it was seldom related to anything ‘good’ or
pleasant.

These were the first things I noticed about her that evening.

It mattered not that the princess smiled just as professionally as her parents did, nor did it
matter that she seemingly knew to handle and ignore the gossipy nature of the gathering
flawlessly. One with an experienced eye, such as myself, knew misery when it presented
itself, even if the bearer of all that sorrow was no stranger to concealing her feelings behind a
veil of false smiles and well-prepared conversational topics.

A pearl among the swine, the Princess of Hell was bleak, sad little thing.

And why wouldn’t she be? She probably knew the rumors that went around the city about her
all too well.

How sinners joked about her, telling each other that their weak princess was a laughable,
ridiculous mistake that didn’t belong in Hell. That she was a dumb, idealistic little girl, too
estranged from the actual rotten world that was Hell to realize what was going on here. That
she probably wasn’t even an actual product of her parents, but an Angel child, abandoned
from Heaven and taken in by the King and Queen of the Underworld, who found killing the
child either too cruel or too bothersome.

These rumors were nothing but baseless accusations and the people spreading them were
nothing but ignorant fools, if you’d ask me.

Yes, I could tell the princess was a bleak and sad little thing – but I also noted she wasn’t
weak.

At the party, Princess Charlotte kept her head up, straightened her back, walked forward.
There was a hidden fierceness burning somewhere inside those gloomy orbs, that looked
around her messy future kingdom with a strong determination even her own father and
mother could learn from.

I was too fascinated by this miserable, yet stubbornly-optimistic girl to feel bad for her.

I remembered wondering, during that event, what this suppressed princess would have in
store for Hell, would she ever take over the throne. Would she be able to change things up
down here in Hell? Would she be able to make circumstances better?

I didn’t know what to think of her, but I expected that, sooner or later, she could be the breeze
of fresh wind us sinners and demons were secretly yet so desperately longing for.

To see her now, outside of the palace, in some regular, boorish clothes (an eggshell white
blouse, a coral pink vest…), her hair let down, her manners and way of speech far from
formal and her peppy, lively personality entrapping most of the people around her within this
protective bubble of positivism and benevolence, as soon as they stepped inside of her
hotel…
It proved to me that she was as mighty as I had expected her to be.

Especially since she had managed to ensnare Alastor into her cozy little red safe house.

Not that I hadn’t seen that one coming.

RrR

Ah ha ha, oh my, but of course I suspected the blithering idiot would fall for her – head over
heels!

You see – I had been acquaintances with Alastor for quite some decades, ever since he
awakened in Hell.

He was a special one. Yes, that’s the word. Special. Someone who always seemed to be…
unobtainable: a slippery, cunning, unpredictable charmer, deceiving everybody with his wide
grin and unreadable nature. He effortlessly used and manipulated others for his own gain –
and he always got his way. Having rather easily climbed up from a lowly sinner to an actual
overlord of Hell, Alastor proved he was very much capable of causing a whole lot more
despair, pain and death than even Hell’s bloodiest rulers were used to, if he was provoked a
few times too many. And according to some reliable sources, the King and Queen of Hell
themselves feared him, in a way.

Did I fear him? Well, perhaps ‘fear’ was too strongly put… but I knew that life in Hell would
be much less difficult for me if I went along with his kooky schemes and plans. Keep the man
entertained, at any cost – that was my creed. I didn’t mind pleasing him – apart from knowing
getting along with the Radio Demon would be most beneficial for my health, I also simply
liked Alastor.

Not like that.

Heavens no. Don't lump me in with those ghastly admirers of his.

But he did entertain me so!

Oh I loved the ‘life’ Alastor brought to Hell, the way he stirred things up and laughed at the
mess he left behind!

Now, I wasn’t as dangerous as Alastor was when I was bored out of my mind… that’s
unbecoming for a lady like me. However, I did enjoy immersing myself into some wild
entertainment, almost just as much as he did! Hence why it was no bother for me to
participate in his plans and plots, oh ho ho, not at all! He was a hoot!

One could imagine my surprise when he one day announced to me he was going to move in
some rehabilitation hotel.

“Oh no, dear Rosie, do not fret!” he had laughed upon seeing my baffled expression, “I’m not
going to let myself get redeemed – of course not, that’s just silly nonsense! It’s for my own
amusement only! Please, dear – do think about all the hopelessness I get to see in there! All
those sinners, foolishly trying to claw their way out of their personal despair and, in the
process, only sinking further and further down in this black, tarry hole of failure… It will be
so wonderfully amusing to see!”

That had made sense, so I had grinned widely at him and asked him who was running this so-
called ‘Happy Hotel’.

He had cackled loudly at that, scaring some onlookers on the street. “That might be the
biggest riot of all, my dear: none other than Princess Charlotte Magne, Hell’s very own
charming Crown Princess!”

Upon hearing that, my smile lessened ever so slightly.

“Being there as she wakes up from this batty dream of hers… watching her fall apart after all
of her ideals and good-will get mercilessly crushed by the cold, hard reality of this cheerless
world… that will be the most rewarding and entertaining event I’d ever witness!” he
continued, his red eyes gleaming, his vile, yellow teeth bared for all to see. “I can’t wait to
mock our fair princess as she falls off her high horse… and to rub that adorable, pretty face of
hers into the savage, unforgiving rules Hell has set in stone for its sinners!”

Hmm?

It was one thing to call someone ‘charming’, ‘adorable and pretty’ and ‘fair’ right to their
faces: swaying people and winning them over with grand compliments and false niceness
could have many usable merits, after all. Every lowlife here knew that.

But calling someone all of those sugary sweet petnames behind their back, without having
any reason to do so, and saying this about the person with an alien, upbeat twinge to his voice
that I hadn’t heard before and couldn’t directly connect to shadier, more nefarious motives…

Alastor had never done that before.

I kept quiet about my suspicions and concerns, however, plastered a sadistic smile on my face
and jollily wished him good luck with his goal of ‘infiltrating’ the hotel and watching all the
horrible misery in there happening from up-close. I even suggested that maybe, he could even
give me a call every now and then, letting me know how things were going, how close the
princess was to having a mental break-down. Wouldn’t that be delightful?

He agreed that this would indeed be very entertaining to do so and promised to keep me up to
date.

He did not.

Months passed without him ever trying to contact me, and when I finally encountered him
again, in my own establishment even, I had trouble with recognizing him at all! He had
looked so different, so… insignificant!
While I recovered from my initial bewilderment, Alastor pretended nothing peculiar was
going on at all and kindly asked me to please hand over his human glasses, that I had kept
behind for him. He also nonchalantly asked me if I, oh, pray tell, happened to have a nice,
classy dress laying around, fit for a lady with a certain status.

Regardless of his expression, I had noticed the fire-red blotches, creeping up his high collar.

Colors say a lot, you know?

Anyway, this request would prove to only be the very beginning of all the strange and
compelling favors Alastor would start asking of me – and honestly, hadn’t I been so very
intrigued with whatever that was going on with him and that hotel, I’d probably have
attacked and tried to murder him right where he stood. That would teach him for both
ignoring and underestimating his good friend for so long!

But nothing was happening in Hell.

And this turn of events was just so interesting.

So very interesting!

The great and arrogant Radio Demon had experienced something otherworldly in that hotel –
and it showed.

Too much in need for something to get my mind off my own troubles and too enthralled by
the way Alastor’s plan was turning itself against him and changing into something new, I
vowed to myself that I would keep playing along with his bizarre, outlandish scenario’s, until
I had seen the last, probably tragically tearful end scene of it.

Ah ha ha ha ha!

I’d gladly sit in the first row for that bit of entertainment!

RrR

Now, I had to say, one of the few good traits Alastor had, was that he wasted no time trying to
hide things of which he knew they were out in the open anyway. And while I doubted that all
of Hell was aware that the princess and Alastor were in a relationship, he had most likely
accepted that I was aware of it, at the very least.

Naturally I was, if I may add – you can only order so many dresses until one’s mind starts to
wonder.

So when the fashionable moth girl leaded him and Princess Charlotte my way, he didn’t
attempt to pry her hand off him or distance himself from the future Queen of Hell – no, he
simply squeezed the princess’ hand on his arm as they walked towards me and
acknowledged me with a big, proud grin.
“Good afternoon, Rosie! How dazzling you look, my dear!”

I stood up from my chair and chortled, giving both him and the princess a little curtesy. “Oh
ho ho, Alastor, don’t make me laugh, you devil! You and I know both very well I only
plucked something simple out of the wardrobe this morning!”

“Something simple, huh,” I heard the moth girl mutter, as both she and the princess eyed the
close-bodied, silver-and-ebony-colored gown I was wearing. It had pleats from the shoulders,
stitched down to affix the cotton, metal and silk fabric to my body, and the amplitude of the
dress was released into the long skirt. It went nicely with my Angel-feathered, jet-black
sunhat, too!

I laughed heartily and made a little twirl. “Like what you see, girls? Well don’t you worry! It
only took me five hours to look like this! Easy as pie!”

“Some pie that was,” the moth girl mumbled, making the princess chuckle and hastily turn
her head away.

“In any case,” Alastor spoke up, and I looked back at him, “Rosie, may I have the honor of
introducing you to my darling Charlie?”

“Charlie?” I repeated. “Who’s Charlie?”

He ignored my question, gave his lover a little nod and the blonde woman greeted me by
sending me one of those well-studied smiles she had grown used to giving, over the past
couple of centuries. However, this one seemed a bit more honest than the ones she forcefully
stuck on her face during the parties her parents liked to throw. The demonic princess let go of
Alastor’s arm and for a moment, she clearly hesitated between giving me a little bow as well
or just reaching out her hand towards me – so I helped her out by grabbing her faltering hand
with my gloved one and giving it a short, elegant shake.

“Princess Charlotte,” I politely said, “it is such a delight to finally be able to speak with you,
Your Highness!”

“Oh – um – you can just call me Charlie, please,” she insisted, “I can’t stand it when people
call me by my full name. It makes me feel… well, I just like Charlie better. So if you don’t
mind, please call me by that name, uhm…”

I cracked a wide grin. “Rosie! You can just call me Rosie, sugar plum – and if we’re going to
skip the formalities anyway, don’t mind me taking full advantage of that freedom!”

“That’s alright!” the princess beamed a relieved smile right back at me. “You’re Alastor’s
good friend, after all – please do take advantage of that freedom and call me whatever you
like!”

“As long as it’s not her full name, that is,” Alastor helpfully added.

Charlie gave him a grateful smile, but didn’t say anything to that. She did allow him to take
her hand, though.
Well I’ll be – weren’t the two of them just ridiculously precious together? Like two peas in a
pod! Ah ha ha ha, Alastor was so taken in by his ladyfriend, he didn’t even mind how weak
and vulnerable this cute hand-holding-shtick made him look in my eyes!

I knew him longer than today, though.

I noticed he kept his mismatched eyes on me.

Saw that his smile got ominous.

Felt his shadow fall on my body, making me feel like suffocating.

I wouldn’t step out of line.

Choking out a slightly chaotic, yet elated giggle, I exchanged glances with both Charlie and
Alastor.

“Now, you two cutie pies, before we get down to business, I simply need to know – when’s
the wedding, hmmm?”

As expected, I caught the two of them off guard and both the princess and Alastor
successfully made at least five different shades of ‘flustered’ appear on their faces in
response. Charlie’s quirky cheeks lit up like a maroon light, while Alastor, once again, got
dark, odd splotches in his neck and on his face.

“U-uhm…” Charlie stammered.

“Well – that is…” Alastor bumbled as well.

“There’s no date yet? Or – oh my, is there even an engagement at all?” Loving the half-
playful, half-malicious jest, I fluttered with my big, dark eyes and shot the Radio Demon a
disapproving look. “Alastor – don’t tell me you haven’t proposed to the princess yet, you
massive bore!”

“He didn’t,” Charlie intervened before Alastor could reply, her blush intensifying. “I did.
Kind of. Sort of. In the – library.”

Out of the blue, I felt something unusual in my chest area. A sudden pang. As if something
got hit. Something soft and weird, that now started leaking and spread a strange sensation
inside of my chest.

“You’re engaged,” I concluded, surprised to hear how soft and sweet my voice sounded, and
tried to make eye-contact with Alastor. He apparently felt too embarrassed to look back, since
he now did the best he could to avoid my curious, questioning look and instead fixedly stared
at some spot on the wall next to him. The moth lady simply snorted at that.

His lover, however, wasn’t quite as embarrassed – au contraire, the lovely dame didn’t feel
too bothered at all!
“It wasn’t the best proposal, I bet, a-and I’ll probably try and do it over once I get the chance,
but – but yes. Technically, he’s – engaged. To me. Uhm…” Charlie bit her lip, but then she
raised Alastor’s unwilling hand and showed its back to me. “I’ll – I’ll replace it as soon as I
can, but for now, we use this bookmarker as a – a promise.”

I stared. Alastor’s ring finger indeed had a vermillion piece of string looped around it. A very
adorable and romantic symbol of their love.

That was not what had caught my eye, though.

The hand was pulled back and Alastor – still looking more caught off balance than he had
ever looked before in my memories – coughed, unmistakably attempting to recollect himself
and move on to a different subject to talk about. His hand disappeared behind his back, away
from my gaze.

“Alright then – all of this has been very nice and well, but… how about the surprise, Rosie?”
When he was sure Charlie couldn’t see, Alastor gave me such a nasty glare that I could feel
the hairs in my neck raise up in protest. “Isn’t it about time you showed Charlie and me the
surprise you’ve prepared for us, dear?”

“Of course,” I smoothly went along with his urgent question, ignoring the goosebumps on my
covered body, and slithered a hand around the princess’ slim waistline. “Charie dear, do you
have a spare room in your precious little hotel, with a lot of natural sunlight, some sort of
podium and a couple of mirrors, preferably cheval glasses?”

“Yes – my mother’s old dressing room.” The princess clasped her hands together as she let
me walk with her. “Have you made even more clothes for us? Are you – are you going to
dress us for my parents’ party? Al hinted that much, but – but you couldn’t have… have you
actually…? Oh god, that would be so amazing!”

Her gasping, kind words took me by surprise. “You – like my work?”

“Yes! So much!”

I cooed nonsensically. Oh my! But this princess was quite the sweetheart, wasn’t she? Her
innocent, earnest enthusiasm and shameless adoration for my work was stroking my ego in a
way I hadn’t felt in decades – and I rather liked it, yes I did! Feeling my motivation flare up, I
was more than happy to follow Charlie back up the stairway, chatting away with her about
mundane things, like how funny it was to go back up the stairs after having just descended
them, ah ha ha, well how very amusing indeed!

…Alastor, in the meantime, silently pursued us in our tracks, his never-faltering stare
pricking into my neck.

But oh, who cared about pricking necks when there was an adorable princess to fix up!
Because – I had to face it: business wasn’t exactly going smoothly these days, and there was
hardly a sinner in town who could still afford one of my dresses. If Charlie bought one of
mine – an expensive one! – then perhaps I could carry on for at least another month. Plus, it
wasn’t like I got the opportunity to adorn Royals with my humble work every day…
Oh, let a girl dream!

CcC

In each and every place and home my mother had ever lived, she had always had at least one
big, imposing chamber for herself and for herself alone – and her former dressing room in the
hotel wasn’t any different from other houses.

The dressing room’s purpose hadn’t only been storing an incredibly huge, golden vanity
(which took up almost one entire wall of the room), but also all of her many, many, many,
many, many, many outerwear, underwear, headwear, footwear and dresses. Seriously – my
mother had so many clothes, she needed multiple dressers for storing all of them… and that
was why yet another, boarder wall of the dressing room was fully packed with all of my
mother’s long, broad and pitch-black wardrobes, all very dramatically decorated and all
reaching the high ceiling of the room.

There also was this small wooden, round podium in the middle of the room, surrounded by
multiple large cheval glasses. Their surfaces all shone brightly at us (probably thanks to
Niffty’s good care of the furniture in each and every room in the hotel) when Rosie, Al and I
entered the dressing room.

I turned to Rosie and wanted to tell her something about the room – I mean, as impressive
and large as the chamber was, it also was a very neglected room, just like the ball room had
been – but Rosie was too excited to get started and immediately dragged me over to the
podium, pushing me on top of it.

“Oh goodness, yes yes, we can work with this! We can certainly work with this! What a
delightful room you have, Charlie! It’s simply marvelous!” Rosie chirped, while I did my
best not to stumble over my own two feet. “Now – let’s get you out of these silly little
working clothes and get down to business! Chop chop!”

“But—”

“Chop chop, sugar plum!” Rosie even clapped her hands to stress the… chop-choppy-ness of
the situation, I suppose.

I smiled sheepishly. “Fine with me, but… should – should Al be here, then…?”

“Al? Oh – Alastor, you mean? You call him Al? How adorable you two are, with your
stubborn refusal to call each other by the names your parents gave you! Just a second!” Rosie
paused from tugging on my blouse to look over her shoulder, to where Al was standing. “Do
you mind seeing your sweet Charlie in her undergarments, Alastor dear?”

Al – looking comically uncomfortable to be here and obviously jolting a bit when he was
suddenly addressed to – tried to answer her. “As a matter of fact, I—”
“Or are you going to pounce her to the ground as soon as you catch one glimpse of her ivory
skin, like some uncouth criminal?” Rosie bulldozered right on through, all while expertly
undressing me with the usage of just one hand and not even looking my way as she did so.

“Uhm…!” I stammered – then shrieked, because my pants disappeared at the same time as
my shirt did, leaving me exposed in just my - mismatched, oh god, I could just die – bra and
panties.

Alastor automatically flushed, startled to see me almost naked all of a sudden, and twirled
around on his heels so fast he almost tripped over his cane/radio standard. His radio audience
seemed to find all of this very entertaining, since their echoing laughter filled the room
seconds after their host had politely turned away from me.

Rosie frowned at that reaction and leaned a bit closer to me. “Pardon the question, Charlie,
but you two have… consummated your relation already, yes?”

I blushed and nodded. “We… we have.”

“Have you now? Well then why does he react this embarrassed, like he has never seen you
bare-skinned before?”

“That’s just the way he is.”

“How odd.”

I shrugged, peeking over her shoulder to Al’s unshaking back. “I don’t mind. I… think it’s
cute.”

“Then you’re an odd duck as well.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

Rosie finally stopped looking at Alastor and let her eyes, dusky and creepy, meet mine. Her
white, pointy teeth appeared from behind her thin lips and she grinned, amused by my
remark. Then, she grabbed me by my shoulders.

“Oh well! Never mind that buffoon now – we’re here for you, first!”

“I might have my back turned towards you, but I can still hear you just fine, Rosie,” Alastor
reminded her.

“I know dear – hence why I said it out loud,” Rosie called back, shooting a wink at me and
making me suppress a giggle.

After that, the female demon put pressure to my shoulders and turned me around, until I
faced my own reflections, circling around me in the many mirrors around the little stage. I
felt not completely at ease, since I wasn’t wearing comfortable underwear and since there
was a strange demonic lady with razor-sharp fangs breathing down my neck standing right
behind me – but knowing that Al was in the same room as I was gave me some peace of
mind.
“You know what I saw when I took a first glance at your hotel, Charlie?” I both heard and
saw Rosie speak out, as one of her cold hands reached for my chin and kindly tilted it
upwards, making me look at myself. “I saw the color red. Everywhere. A fiery, scandalous
color, that has been associated with aggression, power and sexual energy for centuries. A
color most fitting for someone like you, if I may add…”

I looked at her through the mirror as her icy fingers grazed my chin. “Um. Well, I do really
like the color red…”

“Of course you do – both your hotel and your lover are nothing but red. But you know what,
Charlie? You’re not all red.” Rosie made a gesture to the pile of discarded clothes, lying next
to the podium. “You’re also a lot of white, sugar plum. It’s an achromatic color most befitting
for a God or a partly Angelic being like you – not only because it symbolizes light, hope and
goodness, but also because white things demand respect and may even strike fear in the
hearts of those who ridicule them. Because even though white is often associated with things
that are pleasant and pure, there is a peculiar emptiness about the color white. It is the
emptiness of the white that is more disturbing than even the bloodiness of red.”

“O-okay,” I managed, swallowing. “That’s a rather… distressing description of the color

white…”

“Why thank you!”

“That was not necessarily a complime—”

“So you are both red and white! Know what you get when you mix these two together? Pink!
A color you also happen to be very fond of, judging on your tacky little vest!” Rosie happily
carried on, not paying my words any attention. “While you might think pink is a very sweet
and girly color, a hue that makes you think about flowers, dresses, babies and soft loveliness
– it’s actually a color that used to be associated with war and men. The faded color of blood
on soldiers’ clothes… the fact that boys’ futures were a lot more ‘rose-colored’ than those of
the girls… Not to mention how this shade is connected to strong, independent, willful women
throughout the ages! There’s so much more to the color pink than just cuteness, Charlie – just
like there’s so much more to you, sugar plum!”

Just like Alastor, Rosie sure had her way with words. The passion in her words as she spoke
about colors and which ones were most suitable for me – they made me listen to her with
bated breath, completely enthralled by everything she said.

Rosie squeezed my face. “In conclusion: you are a sweet, but also ambitious woman, bottled
up with pent-up frustrations and needs. A smart, independent, strong female that knows what
she wants in life and that has spent far too much time wilting away in the shadows of her
parents and the gossipy higher-ups of Hell. Well no more of that! You deserve to be seen,
Charlie, to let others turn their unworthy necks towards you! So the dress that I have in mind
for you, well – I made sure that you’re going to draw some attention towards you when you
wear it!”

As soon as she released my cheeks, I chuckled. “At this point, I – I don’t think I can do
anything else but believe you! I like the color pink a lot as well, so… wait, does that mean –
 you’re planning to dress me up in pink?”

“Indeed I am. You need to wear a dress that matches your quirky personality!” Rosie smirked
and her nails gripped my shoulders. “Dressing you in a hue you noticeably adore so much
only makes sense… and it'll boost your charisma and confidence! You’ll look great, sugar
plum, believe me. Are you ready to see it for yourself? Wait – let me take your
measurements, first. Wouldn’t like to poof you into a dress that’s too small or too big for
you!”

Rosie took out a yellow measuring tape and started to wind it around my waist – but hardly
had the material touched my skin or I flinched, inhaling and exhaling slowly, letting out a
shaky laugh.

“I’m… I’m a bit anxious though – I might throw up.”

She beamed, triumphantly stretching out her mouth. “Oh ho ho! Such unconventional words
of praise! But thank you very much!”

I was going to tell her that I, once again, wasn’t joking or complimenting her and that all of
this excitement, plus the fact that I hadn’t eaten anything yet, really was going to make me
puke, but thankfully, the nauseous feeling that had suddenly started to build up just as
abruptly faded away again, and I let out a breath of relieve.

“Okay,” I said, raising my head and looking straight at my own half-nervous, half-excited
smile. “Let me see what you have, Rosie!”

Chapter End Notes

Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother is sick and the girl therefore decides to pay her a
visit. During her trip to her grandmother’s house, however, the girl is being followed by
the Big Bad Wolf. When the fiend gets the chance to talk to her, he suggests she picks
some nice flowers for her sick granny. While she does so, the Wolf goes to the
grandmother’s house, pretends to be Little Red Riding Hood… and swallows the poor
woman whole! He then disguises himself as the grandmother and crawls into bed.
When the girl finally arrives, she’s baffled to see how strange her granny looks. She then
asks her ‘grandmother’ a couple of questions:

LRRH: ‘Why is your voice so deep?’

BBW: ‘The better to greet you with, child!’
LRRH: ‘Why are your eyes so big?’
BBW: ‘The better to see you with, sweetie!’
LRRH: ‘Why is your mouth so big?’
BBW: ‘The better to EAT YOU WITH!’

The Wolf leaps out of bed and eat the girl, too, before promptly falling asleep. Later, a
hunter, who had heard the ruckus, comes in, cuts open the Wolf’s belly and rescues the
(somehow unharmed) grandmother and girl. He then fills the belly up with rocks and
stones. This means the end of the Big Bad Wolf, because after he wakes up and tries to
drink something from a nearby river, the heavy weight of the stones cause him to tumble
into the river and drown.

Perrault was the first to come up with this fairy tale, but the Brothers Grimm were the
ones to put a ‘happy ending’ to it: in the original, the story ended as soon as the Wolf
had eaten the grandmother and Little Red Riding Hood…
 The Emperor's New Clothes
Chapter Summary

While Rosie dresses up both Alastor and Charlie, Alastor seemingly has some schemes
up his sleeve.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Now, despite my great intellect, experience and knowledge, there still were many things that
remained big, unfathomable mysteries to me.

The annual Purge, for example, when Exterminators (or Death Angels) would come down
from the Heavens above to annihilate as much sinners as they could. I… simply didn’t get the
concept. Killing off sinners to make room for more sinners, only to kill those new sinners off
the very next year after, endlessly continuing the murderous circle? That didn’t sound like a
successful formula to me. Instead of mindlessly weeding out the ‘evil’ each and every year,
wouldn’t it be better to try and find another solution? I’m not saying people should starting
doing what Charlie did (I still thought her idea of trying to rehabilitate bad people was a
ridiculous one, especially since it was nothing but a drop in the ocean), but at least my bright-
eyed lover made an active attempt to change something in Hell. To make it a better place. If
more important higher-ups in Hell started thinking in possibilities, like our darling princess
did, then, perhaps, the Underworld could actually solve its overpopulation within a few
years.

Also, wouldn’t murdering sinners make the angelic perpetrators just as sinful as the people
they offed, or were they free to kill and stab whoever they wanted to? Did the Death Angels
have these kinds of privileges? Were the Death Angels even alive?

Another mystery that kept stupefying me was Charlie’s very own hotel. I had already spent -
hmm, well - four to five months in this establishment, before finally finding out there was an
actual library here. Some months later, I discovered a ball room. And today? Today, I got to
know yet another room: a dressing room that used to be Queen Lilith’s private chamber.
What was next? What other, new room would appear out of nowhere? A gym? A
greenhouse? A secret workroom next to the library in which Niffty wrote her godawful sex
stories and listened in on me and Charlie exchanging passionate kisses?

Ha ha, I kid! Obviously!

And yet – the mind reels…

But!
The biggest, most astonishing mystery of all was the fact that Charlie’s lovable charm and
genuine friendliness had the power to win over practically everybody, ranging from chaotic
serial killers and kidnapped, depressed Angels to even the most diabolical, deranged,
psychotic and extremely untrustworthy demons of Hell.

Demons like, say, Rosie, who had even less redeeming qualities about her than I had, and
who always seemed to be open to participating in something evil or petty (as long as it would
benefit and entertain her, in whatever way that could be).

It was profoundly bewildering how easily Hell’s next ruler in line – my sweet, lovable
Charlie – could get along swimmingly with someone like Rosie, just by being her own, sunny
self.

Or was it, now?

I smirked as I halfheartedly listened to the ladies happily talking away to one another behind
my back, my radio audience’s static noise reverberating around the room, my shadow
twirling around on the wall in front of me restlessly.

Had it been a gamble? No.

When all the odds are in one’s favor, there’s no longer a gamble to speak of.

AaA

Charlie and Rosie had been discussing and ‘remaking’ Charlie’s dress for a while now.

Rosie had draped/’poofed’ Charlie in the dress she had prepared beforehand, but, much to her
astonishment, Charlie hadn’t instantly obediently agreed with her dress of choice. No – the
princess had some demands Rosie needed to work with: Charlie didn’t want too much skin to
be showed, she didn’t want to put on ‘sparkling panties’ (whatever those were, I certainly
didn’t wish to know), she didn’t want to wear something that was too short or too long and
she also didn’t want to walk around in a dress that would turn her into a – her words – ‘huge,
yummy strawberry cheesecake’.

I had to chuckle at that last one – oh, it was such an irresistable Charlie-thing to say! For a
moment, I had some difficulties with staying in place. Goodness, in every other situation, I
probably would already have hurried myself to her side in a matter of seconds to, at the very
least, kiss her cheek for spouting cute words like that – but no, both Charlie and Rosie had
been very clear: I was only allowed to turn around and look at Charlie when she was
completely satisfied with her dress.

“Because I want it to be perfect,” Charlie had said to my back up from that little podium in
the middle of the dressing room. “See, I... I want you to take one look at me in this dress and
immediately make you feel like you’ve won the ultimate jackpot – the biggest lottery of all!”
Still standing with my back turned towards her, I had smiled at that comment. “Oh Charlie - I
already have won the lottery, my love. A few months ago, even!”

“You have? For real? Wh-what did you win?”

“Your hand in marriage.”

Charlie had fallen silent at that, although I did hear some rapid footsteps coming towards me
– rapid footsteps that were abruptly cut short by Rosie presumably catching her and dragging
her back to the little stage, patiently telling Charlie that there was more than enough time for
her to kiss and hug the life out of me later, when the both of them were satisfied with the
dress.

And now I wanted to hold Charlie even more! But I couldn’t. Ha ha!

Confound it all.

By the by, speaking about Rosie: people could easily get fooled by her deceivingly nice,
somewhat demure looks and attitude. But make no mistake. Rosie was a mighty, hardboiled,
relentless woman, a demonic entity that could effortlessly force her opinions onto others
without breaking a sweat and without having any regards for the other person’s view on the
matter, specifically when it was about clothing. She didn’t like getting a no for an answer, not
even when the person she was talking to was somebody she regarded as a ‘friend’.

Therefore, I may have been a tad unsure whether or not she would appreciate Charlie’s
sometimes surprisingly stubborn and outspoken temperament when it came to topics Charlie
liked – like fashion.

But Charlie never gave Rosie a no for an answer.

She gave her new insights.

And she gave them with that irresistible, cheerful enthusiasm that I had grown so very fond
of.

“Oh my god, Rosie, I love this dress,” Charlie gasped behind me, “but I doubt I can actually
dance in it. That would be a waste, don’t you think? I’d step on the lower part of the skirt
constantly. But maybe if I held it up…”

Another gasp, this one came from Rosie. “Dancing – heavens no, sugar plum, this dress isn’t
made for dancing! It’s mainly for walking around seductively and looking down on your
enemies like the useless pieces of rubble they are! And there’s no way in Heaven or Hell I’m
going to let you tote around your dress all night long – that’s not seductive at all! No no, if
you’re looking for a dress you can freely dance in, how about we do this to the skirt section
of the dress?”

A soft ‘poof’-sound.

“Oh! You think it suits me like this?”

“Hmm, well – how about this, then?”

Another soft ‘poof’-sound.

“But does that fit with this?”

“Why wouldn’t that fit with this?”

“Because of this – does that need to look like this when combine with that?”

“Hmm. Ahh… Yes yes, I see.”

Yet another soft ‘poof’-sound.

“Huh. Yeah… almost! This here... you see what I mean?”

“Oh! Yes, I do see what you mean, sugar plum!”

Another soft ‘poof’ – for goodness sake, it was starting to sound like people were making
popcorn in here.

But then, at last, Charlie let out an ecstatic cry. “Yes – yes, that’s what I’m talking about! I
freaking love what you did with that fabric – oh my god, just look at the skirt, at the tulle – it
looks so awesome, Rosie!”

“Of course it does – it was made by me!” Rosie bragged, her voice high and upbeat. “Didn’t I
promise you as much, Charlie? I ensured you I had the perfect dress for you, after all! And
there you have it! Oh ho ho ho!”

I rolled my eyes at that and shook my head a little.

Did Charlie know she had this handy, socially-approved talent to make people readily bent to
her will and wishes? I wondered. On the one hand, Charlie could be rather gullible and easy
to fool – I had experienced this myself. On the other hand, this girl had been alive in Hell for
many, many centuries. She knew how to handle overlords and ne’er-do-wells, probably better
that I could ever imagine.

Realizing that I still hadn’t seen all of Charlie’s sides made me feel both thrilled as well as it
made me feel a bit… well, concerned, maybe.

Then again, who was I to talk?

Before I could ponder about Charlie a bit more and longer, my thoughts got distracted
because of some celebratory, victorious female shrieks, which were loud enough to shut my
confused, yapping radio audience right up. Since the both of them sounded adorably pleased
and happy with something, I came to the logical conclusion that Rosie had, somehow,
managed to materialize Charlie’s ideal party dress in the end.

“Can I turn around now?” I asked, because the curiosity was getting to me – but barely had I
twisted my head just a bit, or two small, gloved, rude hands turned it right back at the wall in
front of me. My blood boiled in an instant upon feeling this sudden, unwelcome intrusion and
I instinctively wanted to slap those meddlesome hands from my face – but the way the
familiar touch carefully fondled my jawlines and warmed my face prevented me from doing
so, just in time.

“Charlie?” I still asked, if only to be sure.

She chuckled – and upon hearing her lovely voice so close by, I breathed out slowly.

“Don’t turn around just yet, Al: I want to see you in your neat clothes as well, and wouldn’t it
be nice if we could both see each other in our new clothes at the exact same time?”

“My love,” I started, taking her hands off my face to lightly squeeze them, “I adore your
delightful commitment to my surprise, but please keep in mind it’s only a party dress and an
attire for your parents’ gathering. It’s not a… well. It’s nothing official. If you know what I
mean.”

I cleared my throat. That came out a bit awkwardly.

“I know what you mean, Al...”

Charlie laughed softly and her hands slipped down, until they rounded themselves around my
waist. I could feel a delightful chill travelling over my back's skin, from top to bottom, when
I felt her body pressing to mine and her lips leaving a kiss in-between my shoulder blades.

“…b-but wouldn’t it be nice to practice a little already…?”

I shuddered once more. Oh lord. She was so charming, I could hardly stand it. One more
sweet word from her lips and I’d tackle her before she’d even know what had hit her.

“I suppose so,” I managed to say. I was happy she couldn’t see my face right now.

“Okay Al – in that case, I’ll go out of the dressing room, to show Vaggie and the others how I
look - oh, and to peek on how the preperations for the karaoke evening are faring! In the
meantime, Rosie will dress you up and when I return (don’t worry, I’ll knock on the door
first!), we can both see each other all, uhm, dolled up for the very first time. It will be
incredibly wonderful and there will be lots of rejoicing, hugging and kissing. Also sex.”

"Alright." I let out an amused chuckle. “Kind of an awkward thing to do with Rosie still in
the room, but you always were quite the daredevil.”

She had to snort at my witty remark, but quickly recovered herself. Charlie’s voice was a lot
lower when she quietly carried on: “N-not now, Al – and certainly not with anybody around!
I’m talking about tonight. You see, I really wanted you this morning. Or – well – this
afternoon, better said. Now, I want you tonight. I – I want you to make love to me tonight.
Is… is that okay with you?”

I smiled, took one of her hands and brought it up to my mouth. The kiss I planted on top of
her clothed palm perhaps was a bit too wet for a simple handkiss and I probably hadn’t
needed to use my tongue at all, but since it made Charlie squirm and pant a little, I think my
silent answer was crystal clear to her.

“Sugar plum,” Rosie then called out, brutally breaking down the sweet, sensuous tension that
(up to this point) had been increasing between me and Charlie, “how about you take your
leave for now, like we agreed to? Go on, go show off your breathtaking attire to all of your
darling little employees while I keep myself busy with putting your twiggy fiancé into a
decent garment of his own!”

“R-right!” Charlie stammered in response, taking a few steps away from me, her dress
rustling softly. Her hand slipped out of my own and I instantly lamented losing its pleasant
warmth so suddenly. “I’ll be back later then! Bye Al – bye Rosie!”

“I’ll see you later, my dear,” I smoothly replied.

Charlie exchanged some final pleasantries with Rosie, but then she really did head out of the
room…

…leaving both me and Rosie behind in a room of which the temperature spontaneously
dropped a few degrees, the second the door fell shut.

AaA

I didn’t care too much for fashion, if I had to be honest. Not more than was needed, in any
case.

This was a funny fact about me that would surprise most sinners greatly, I can imagine, given
my status as a demonic gentleman… but I fear it was the truth. Don’t get me wrong, fashion
was fairly interesting and all that, but it wasn’t one of my top priorities – never had been one
of them, either.

However, that didn’t mean that I didn’t care about the way I looked. I did care about my
appearance, very much even: the way one presented themself was the first thing others
noticed and remembered about them, after all, so naturally, I always wanted to look my best.
Luckily enough, I had been gifted with a rather charming and attractive face and presence,
even after dying and coming to in Hell: I never needed to put that much effort into making
myself look good.

And remember: a handsome smile, positive attitude and some gallant manners could go a
long way!

...although I had to admit my pinstriped coat had seen better days. It had gotten a bit ragged
at the bottom. Perhaps I should follow Niffty’s unasked advice and get myself a new one…

But I digressed – what I wanted to say was that I, unlike Charlie, wasn’t too fussy when it
came to clothing and dressing up.
Dear old Rosie was fully aware of that.

So instead of giving me a lengthy and dramatic introduction before putting me in the clothes
she had prepared for me, like she had done with Charlie, Rosie didn’t say much at all. All she
did was dryly clapping her hands and making the clothes magically appear on me with
another, even duller-sounding ‘poof’.

I looked at my new set of clothes in the many mirrors and cocked my head in wonder. “Oh
my. No jacket of some sorts to go with this get-up, Rosie?”

And that was all the encouragement the woman needed.

With a sigh that barely concealed her eagerness to explain her clothing choices for me, she
hopped on top of the podium as well, thinking it over for a bit, before coming closer to me
anyway.

“Now, for starters, Alastor dear – the reason why I didn’t put you in a jacket is Charlie. She
seems to be very fond of your body and its extremely rectangular shapes, for some reason.”

“The devil you say. I do wonder what that reason could be. Perhaps the fact she’s madly in
love with me plays a part in this insane fascination of hers?”

Rosie didn’t appreciate my humoristic jab at her remark, but she didn’t respond to it, either.
Ever the professional!

“She especially cherishes your backside,” she continued, her black orbs travelling lower and
lower over my body. “She kept on talking so fervently about your backside. Lord knows why
– no offense, dear, but I have seen lampposts with more buxom than your disappointing
excuse for a bottom.”

“No offense taken,” I breezily said.

“Hence why I didn’t exactly have an actual suit for you in mind, but the garments you’re
wearing right now. Allow me.” Rosie let her hands vaguely hover around me, never quite
touching me. “For starters, I gave you a clean, white dress shirt to make your shoulders stand
out a bit more. You’re not that broad (and that dusty old coat with the patted shoulders isn’t
fooling anybody, dear), but I daresay your upper body should be given the most attention. So
you shouldn’t roll up the sleeves either, if you’d ask me. Your puny arms are far from
impressive - and they are covered with scars of lord-knows-what. It’s a bit indecent, I think…
although, on the other hand, they say some people actually enjoy to see these kinds of things.
Does Charlie mind your scars? Isn’t she repulsed by them?”

“She doesn’t mind my scars and she isn’t repulsed by them. Not at all.”

“She makes you feel better about yourself, doesn’t she?”

“She’s an absolute sweetheart – and this is a very presentable shirt,” I said, blatantly ignoring
her tone of voice as I rolled up my sleeves. “I especially like its lack of flutteriness.”

Rosie frowned. “Flutteriness? That’s hardly a word.”

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m obviously rambling!” I looked away from the faded wounds on my
skin and beamed a big grin at her. “Please, do continue your oh so very informative
explanation, Rosie!”

“Very well.” If it would have been able to see them, I probably would have watched Rosie
casting her eyes upwards in exasperation. “I also put you in a nice and tight, platinum-
colored waistcoat – again, to emphasize the fact that your shoulders are almost decent. You
don’t have anything even faintly resembling body fat, so I figured your chest and impossible
waist can handle the tightness of the buttoned waistcoat.”

I blinked. “What tightness?”

“Point proven.” Rosie smirked a little. “In any case, as you can see, I also gave you a simple,
burgundy necktie. It fits well with your eyes – both the red and the brown one. That reminds
me: you should let your eyes get fixed one of these days, Alastor. Anyway – this necktie also
makes your complete get-up a bit more formal, yet it still leans towards the casual side of
things. You’re still relatively young, after all, in spite of your dreadful, dumb old-man-
clothes. Oh, also, I hope you will forgive me the lack of anything too eye-catching in your
attire – but do keep in mind that Charlie’s the one who should shine like a star during the
party. Not you.”

I smiled. “That’s alright, I want Charlie to shine. She needs to shine. It’s her night.”

“My oh my.” Rosie forgot about her role as a professional seamstress for a bit and I saw her
giving me a mocking smile, right over my shoulder. “You do love her so, don’t you,
Alastor?”

“Goodness, what tipped you off?” I sneered. “The subtle flirting? The way I talk about her?
The obvious comments on marriage?”

Rosie pretended like she hadn’t heard my sarcastic response and hummed. “Must be nice,
getting married into Hell’s wealthiest and most powerful family…”

“Ha ha! Oh Rosie, I couldn’t care less about her family.”

“Hm.” Rosie – a bit paler than usual – clacked her tongue and for a tense moment, it looked
like she was going to say more about the matter. But she didn’t, and she instead made me
focus on the final bit of the new clothes I was wearing: the dark pants.

“Now I do like your long legs,” she babbled, tapping her face as she studied said legs.
“They’re slim, refined and look masculine, even if there’s barely any muscle in them at all.
So I think a well-tailored, close-fitting pair of raisin-black pants would be perfect for your
slim posture. It also kind of stresses your rumored ‘elite’ backside, thanks to the waistcoat.”

I nodded, giving myself one good, final look-over. “Fair enough! As long as you think
Charlie will like it, I’ll like it as well. How do I look?”

“You look fragile, Alastor.”

Rosie’s sudden, cold comment was shot at me like a bullet, fired in a completely silent,
sacred room. It sliced through the already heavy air and forced my easy, relaxed smile into a
wider, less legitimate one as I slowly turned around to face her. I narrowed my eyes.

“Oh ho, do I now?”

“Yes, you do.” Rosie kept looking at me, her smile as rigid as always. “Fragile and
weakened. Why, I hardly recognize the oh so very fearsome Radio Demon anymore. He has
switched places with this homely, love-struck fool I happen to be talking with right now. Has
playing house with the princess softened you that much, Alastor dear? Are you planning on
making your own little family with her? Will you change diapers in the near future? Tuck
your children into bed with a cute little bedtime story?”

I laughed lightheartedly and put my hands on my back. “Ah, well, frankly, I’m not sure about
all of that! Especially the last bits – my dearest Rosie, please understand that making a family
takes two, most of the time, and I haven't taken any initiative on that matter. Not yet. But
perhaps it will be a point of discussion between me and my beloved Charlie sometime later,
who knows? Ha ha!"

Rosie looked conflicted and on guard. It probably helped that both my shadow as well as my
demonic black tentacles were currently surrounding her and making sure the crone couldn’t
make any abrupt movements without my black helpers instantly responding to even the
slightest twitch of limbs.

“Do you have something to say to me, dear?” I hissed, my sizzling and crackling radio
screeches messing up the atmosphere and disrupting my voice, while Rosie didn’t say
anything.

She was weaker than I was. Even now, she still was so very, so laughably weak. And she
knew this all too well. So, taken aback, Rosie straightened her back and collected what was
left of her poise.

“Ah ha ha, I was just curious is all, Alastor! I’m your good friend! Dearie me, I would never
even dream about attacking you once I’m sure you’re at your most vulnerable and all the fun
tragedy is over!”

It was a very offhanded, strangely endearing way of threatening me. That Rosie! I had to stop
myself from cracking up in amusement, even if the ‘fun tragedy’-part confused me a little.

So instead of berating her, I simply replied to her statement with a content nod.

“Of course you won’t kill me! Why would you? You wouldn’t like to destroy your only
chance to finally get some well-earned Royal recognition for your dresses and beautiful
handiwork, now would you?”

She made big eyes and flushed, looking overwhelmed, like a wild animal trapped in the
headlights of an oncoming vehicle.
I snickered and made my way over to where Rosie was – oh my, but she had made quite
some space between the podium and the other side of the room, now, hadn’t she? It didn’t
matter: I briskly kept approaching her until I could decently tower over her.

“Let me tell you, my dear: you’re in luck! Charlie seems to like you, as she seems to
automatically like everybody with as much as a pulse, a face and a criminal record – bless her
good, righteous heart. Perhaps she’ll even let you design and tailor her wedding dress! What
am I saying – she might even make you her personal dresser! Wouldn’t that be swell?”

Rosie stopped gritting her pearly white teeth in silent frustration to wheeze softly, looking up
at me. For a moment, even her smile completely disappeared from her gray face and she
seemed to be absolutely dumbfounded.

“Y-yes. Yes that would be swell.”

“That’s what I figured!”

“Oh dear.” The demonic woman breathed in and out excitedly and started fluttering her hands
in front of her face. “Oh mercy me. Would – would she let me?”

“Naturally! You heard how enthusiastic she was about your work, didn’t you? The princess is
a big Rosie-fan! And I’ll be more than happy to support her decision to hire you!”

“Oh my goodness, then—!”

“However.” I bent forwards, cowering Rosie even further against the wall right behind her,
and extended my – left, unhurt – hand towards her, grinning almost apologetically. “Before
we hire you, I think I may need to make some… premeasurements this time, first.”

Rosie stared at my hand for a while. Her black-holes-for-eyes then climbed up, seeking
contact with mine. I could see some wetness appearing in them and she sobbed gleefully,
coyly covering her mouth with a few of her fingers.

“O-oh dear, Alastor… you’re going to make a deal with little old me? Heavens, am I really
that much of a thread to you…?”

“Rosie, would I ever joke about making deals?”

She laughed, which sounded like a hiccup, and grabbed my eerily glowing hand, not even
waiting for me to tell her what the deal was all about.

“I-I’m just so flattered – I never thought you’d think so highly of me… I thought I was
nothing but a lackey to you!”

I hummed indistinctively. “Don’t sell yourself too short now. Let’s not forget you tortured our
mutual friend Bob for days back then – probably even killed him if I hadn’t freed him from
your diligent fingers! Also, you did kind of leave me to bleed to death in that lovely dungeon
of yours. I was very fortunate to somehow get out of there myself, otherwise I’d have been a
dead man!”
 “Ah ha ha, oh yes, I did do that!~”

“Yes you did! Ha ha ha! Yes you did.”

“Should I be worried about this deal, though?” Rosie got a worried frown in-between her
eyes as she watched my hand shake hers.

“Oh Rosie, Rosie, Rosie!” I chuckled, charmed by her reaction, and let go of her hand. “You
silly goose – don’t act like it’s such a big deal! This contract I’m making with you only
makes sure you won’t try to directly or indirectly kill me, starting from the moment Charlie
appoints you as her personal fashioner. Oh – and just in case the going gets even tougher for
you, you’ll have a place to stay. Right here in this hotel. Just - make sure to avoid room 106.
That is all, my dear!”

Rosie gaped at me. “You knew about the bankruptcy, Alastor?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I… I’m… you saved me.”

“Still haven’t got the slightest idea.” I wanted to continue making these kinds of cheeky
comments, but then I heard a knock on the door, and my heart soared, right on cue. I quickly
glanced into the direction the knock came from, just for a moment. “Oh, there she is now!
Will you excuse me for a moment, Rosie dear – I need to gaze at my precious Charlie in your
lovely dress and smooch her beautiful person senseless, before… oh. Oh no. Please dry your
eyes, my friend. There’s a reason why a smile suits you better!”

I grinned teasingly at Rosie, who turned her tearful face away from me.

“O-oh mercy me,” she stammered with a broken smile, quickly pulling out a light-blue
handkerchief out of her sleeve, “don’t – don’t mind me, now! Go on then – go and take a
look at your fiancée, dear, I’ll just… stay put!”

Instead of saying anything else, I distantly, yet gently patted my friend’s shoulder with my
microphone stand a couple of times before heading towards the door. I was more than ready
to grab my wonderful lover – no, fiancée – by the arms and pull her flush against my chest,
where she should be, and then I’d spoil her sweet, soft lips with as many desperate kisses as
she would allow me to give her.

And then I’d look at her dress.

I always had my priorities set straight.

Chapter End Notes

There once was a vain emperor who spent most of the empire’s expense matters on
extremely luxurious clothing. One day, two swindlers sneak into the capital city. They
hear about the spend-happy Emperor and decide to pretend they’re a couple of high-
class weavers. They offer to supply the naïve ruler with magnificent clothes that are
invisible to those who are ‘too stupid’ or ‘too incompetent’. The Emperor hires them on
the spot and the weavers set up their looms, getting themselves ready to ‘work’.
A few days pass. The weavers are frequently visited by the Emperor’s officials and the
Emperor himself, who come in to check on their progress. The looms are always empty,
naturally, but each person that comes to check lies and pretends to see the most beautiful
clothes, because they don’t want to be seen as idiots. Eventually, the weavers announce
that the Emperor’s suit is finished – and they ‘dress’ him. Feeling proud and pretty, the
Emperor then decides to parade around the whole city!
First, nothing happens: the very uncomfortable townspeople don’t want to look like
morons and tell each other how nice their butt-naked Emperor looks. But the charade is
finally ended when a kid pipes up, yelling that the Emperor is wearing nothing at all! By
the time everybody realizes the weavers played them all for fools, the swindlers have
long left the city. And the Emperor himself? He keeps his head up high – and finishes
his tour around the city, not giving a damn about his nakedness.

Hans Christian Andersen based this fairy tale on a story from a medieval, Spanish
collection of short stories, written by various authors (like Aesop). However, the tale
was also partly inspired by a childhood memory of his: he and his mom once went to
meet the Danish king and upon seeing the king, he apparently blurted out: ‘But he’s just
a normal guy!’, embarrassing his mom and making bystanders laugh out loud.
 The Midas Touch
Chapter Summary

Lilith prepares herself, Lucifer and three guests for the party.

Chapter Notes

Another nice work of art made by Chisena, just because it's so drop-dead gorgeous and
VERY subtly-linked to a certain upcoming party. Check it out here! <3 <3 <3

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I think I had been staring at the picture and the attached message Charlie had sent to me for at
least two straight hours now, but I was alright with that. I was more than alright with that – I
didn’t mind staring at the first hopeful signs of my daughter maybe opening up to me again
for two more hours, if that would mean things would get better between the two of us.

Feeling the relieved smile around my lips was actually starting to hurt my face a little, I
relaxed the muscles in my face a bit more and sat back in my sofa. I moved my stiffened
shoulders and joints, letting them pop and crack, before, once more, focusing all of my
attention to the digital photo Charlie had sent to me. This was an important moment, I knew
that very well. The moment Charlie had given me a sign of life, out of her very own accord.
Well – I hoped it was out of her own accord.

I felt the corners of my lips curl up again as I looked over the picture.

It really was a very nice picture.

There were three persons in it: first of all, a demoness/seamstress/dressmaker/businesswoman

named Rosie, who owned that one establishment I heard people talk about every now and
then. Rumor had it that her business wasn’t doing quite as great as it used to. Then there was
Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon and my daughter’s current beau. And, finally, squeezed
in-between the two of them – Charlie, my lovely little apple beignet.

She looked absolutely stunning in that delicate, pink dress she was wearing.

It didn’t look like a very complicated design, but upon closer inspection, I saw all kinds of
details. The skirt-part of Charlie’s dress was made of different, light shades of sparkling pink
tulle. The front side of the half-long, nicely-folded-and-pleated skirt was a bit shorter than the
backside, and the garment floated around Charlie’s pale legs like she was surrounded by the
softest, most lovely clouds. The body of the dress was a slightly darker shade of pink – the
dress blurred and blossomed from the dark shade of pink into the fluffier, lighter shades
below the upper half. Her waist was adorned by subtle silver and pink threads and details that
very nicely swirled around her curves, accentuating them. The front of the top seemed a bit
asymmetric, a cute, rebellious choice to go with – and Charlie’s shoulders were completely
bare.

My treasured little girl! How pretty she looked!

…my, did her breasts get slightly bigger since the last time I saw her? Charlie certainly had
an impressive bosom going on. You could crack walnuts between those melons.

Well, in any case…

My daughter was spectacular. I could tell she hadn’t even done her hair or make-up yet in
this picture, and she also looked a little lost, with that awkward little smile – but she was also
brimming with energy and happiness. Oh, she already was the most gorgeous thing of this
idiotic party Luci was throwing! I felt a sudden rush of motherly triumph wash over me and I
sighed contently.

Then, my eyes automatically trailed down to the message Charlie had written below the
picture again.

“Hi mom. Just in case you wondered what I will be wearing tonight: it’s this dress I’m
wearing in the picture. Rosie made it – Rosie is that woman standing next to me, by the way.
The left side of me, not the right side. That’s Al. You know. The guy you and dad hate so
much. I’m going to fuck his brains out tonight. I hope the party will be fun.”

Wasn’t she just adorable?

Unwittingly, my insatiable eyes wandered back up, to the depictions of the other persons in
the photograph. I couldn’t be bothered with paying too much attention to that Rosie-woman
next to her, but I suppose she seemed to be delighted to be in my daughter’s presence. I
wasn’t sure what to think of Rosie, but if Charlie believed it was alright to spend time with
her, I’d trust her judgement on this one.

Alastor on the other hand, who, as speculated, was stationed on the other side of Charlie, did
manage to capture my attention. He had one of his demonic hands (possessively?
Protectively?) clasped around my precious apple beignet’s waist – and as always, even in a
mere picture like this one, the radio fiend oozed a natural air of superiority and extreme
arrogance as he did so. However, I had to admit he had his gaze directed at my daughter, and
he looked at her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Honestly, hadn’t
Rosie been in the picture as well, one could easily mistake this photo for one of those gushy,
just-married-couple pictures.

…they did make a handsome couple, I had to say.

I chuckled and looked at the blinking little bar below Charlie’s comment. My smile started to
turn into a frown. I had to say something now. I couldn’t ogle my daughter’s picture and
message for two hours and not reply to her… but I was concerned about what to say.
Meaningful conversations weren’t my strongest suit, especially not when I tried having them
with my very own flesh and blood, ironically enough. I had to think this through carefully,
before I’d send something that would unintentionally hurt or insult Charlie.

After yet another ten minutes of writing and rewriting, I had typed a message. It wasn’t half
bad, if I may say so myself. In my message, I even went as far as to reply to most, if not all
of Charlie’s remarks. It went like this:

“Greetings, my dear daughter. You look very lovely. I don’t care about Rosie. And though I
still think very little of him, I’m willing to accept your terrible choice for a boyfriend. Fuck
your boyfriend. I look forward to tonight. Love, mon.”

Perfect.

See? It helps to stop and think about wording and the tone you try to achieve in your note for
a bit, before just mindlessly sending out a message into the great wide open! Truly, there
wouldn’t be as many miscommunication issues in this hellhole if everybody thought about
their written memos as hard and as profoundly as I did.

With a convinced nod, I pressed ‘send’ and put the device down.

Soon enough however, I realized I had made a grave mistake and hastily sent another, urgent
message after the first one:

“I meant to say ‘love, mom’ at the end. Not ‘love, mon’. Just so you know. Until we speak
again this evening, sweetie.”

I breathed out. Close call right there! To think just what grisly misunderstandings could have
developed, hadn’t I corrected that crucial little error I made!

I wanted to put the telephone device aside for a moment and call for a maid, to inform if the
dressing room was ready to use yet and to ask what Luci was up to – but then I heard a cute
ping-sound, hinting me that Charlie had read my message and even replied to me already.

This soon?!

A bit anxious, I peeked at the screen.

“You’re unbelievable, mom.”

Hmm. Was this a satisfactory or a bad reply? I couldn’t tell. Instead of worrying about it
though, I quickly sent her a new digital message back.

“You look really happy in that picture, Charlie.”

“I am!” came the swift response. “I’m glad it shows. :-)”

A little picture of a yellow, smiling face! I had heard about those legendary things – seeing
one of these meant that this was a very satisfactory answer, most certainly!
I sent back: “Did you send this picture to daddy as well? You know your father: he’ll cry the
prettiest ugly tears once he sees how beautiful you look.”

“No.” A curt reply. Watch it now, Lilith.

“Why not?” I wanted to know.

“You KNOW why not, mom. He’ll react even less understanding than you.”

What did she mean, ‘even less understanding’? I wanted to ask her, but since I suspected I
had already said something that had rubbed her the wrong way (despite all of my valiant
efforts – there was still so much I had yet to learn), I now felt even less compelled to try and
reason with her.

Somewhat deflated, I sent her the following: “Can I at least show the picture you send to me
to him? Would that be okay?”

There was a suspiciously long pause before Charlie gave me her answer.

“I’m not stopping you.”

This was most likely the best reply I could expect from my daughter at this point, so I didn’t
press on and simply wished her a lovely afternoon, reminded her to put up her hair this
evening, since that made her look more sophisticated/Royal Princess-y and less like this
‘tired and dull hotel manager needs more coffee’-type she was slowly becoming, and ended
the conversation with sending her all of my love.

“K thanks mom.”

I rewarded myself with a little pat on the shoulder as I put away my mobile phone after this
last message. Yes, it had been a shaky talk with Charlie and I’m sure things could have gotten
better, but I was happy I had at least managed to successfully end this fragile, digital
conversation with my daughter on a semi-positive note.

I was making progress!

III

After having sent Charlie my last reply, I went to look for Lucifer. However, that turned out
to be more of a chore than I had expected it to be. I couldn’t find the man anywhere – not
even in his personal quarters (with which I meant his heavily-ignored work office and his
relaxation room, or, as he put it, his Ultra Kingly Game Room™, where he usually was,
throwing sharp darts at a round target board that had a picture of his enemies pinned up
against it). He wasn’t in any of the other chambers in the palace either, or so one of the
servants came to tell me, so I found myself being stumped.

Now, where was that Luci…?

Honestly, one would think the important host of a big and superior Royal Party would spend
a bit more time inside of the castle to actually plan and arrange the right rooms and
thingamajigs for the festivities, but the only beings I saw frantically working on the
organization of the ball and everything around it, were our diligent maids and butlers. They
were so fired up about tonight’s party – it was such an inspiring sight to behold!

…I mean, yes, I know I had informed them that I’d gently twist their heads and limbs from
their torso’s if they failed to make this happening a great success and I heavily suspected that
me holding a few of their loved ones hostage was fairly motivational to them as well, but
still.

Very inspiring! Very inspiring indeed. Maybe I’d even compliment them later.

Or not. It seemed like they were following the strict and well-prepared instructions from
some mysterious red papers everybody was scurrying around with, so perhaps they were just
a bunch of lazy sinners that only did the grunt work.

Of course, many other, more interested persons would undoubtedly become curious or
suspicious about the origins of the red papers and would want to find out what they were all
about… but fortunately, I was not one of those people. What a drag that would have been. No
no – I had more important things to worry about than some dumb stationary.

Like my nails. Would I paint them black or purple for this evening’s party?

Ahh, but anyway.

As I wandered around the palace’s corridors, still clutching my telephone and still having no
luck with finding my dainty pipsqueak of a husband, I happened to walk into the living
room.

Surely, Raphael was there, sitting contently on the couch with his hand placed inside of a
strange book with fishermen pictured on them, but Michael, Gabriel and Lucifer were
nowhere to be seen.

Upon hearing me enter the room, he instantly shut his book and turned his head into my
direction. “Hello Lilith.”

Once again, his unnerving ability to immediately recognize the person that came close to him
startled me a little. Raphael looked a lot like my dear husband, but his air and natural poise
were more calm and subdued. Furthermore, he was rather boring-looking for an Archangel:
he neither had the cute red cheeks nor the toothy grin Lucifer had and his blonde hair was
nonchalant and uninspired, in comparison to Luci’s loopy locks. Even the snow-white, great
Angel wings attached to his back seemed to be less impressive than those of Michael and
Gabriel.

Oh, and he also was completely blind and unable to open his eyelids.

“Raphael.” I hesitated for a minute, but decided to approach the serenely-smiling Archangel
anyway with a couple of small steps. “Do you happen to know where Lucifer is? I need to
show him this picture.”

I must have still been a bit rattled because of him instantaneously recognizing me, because I
was daft enough to actually ‘show’ him the picture on my phone’s screen. I was quick to
realize this and wanted to correct my mistake and apologize, but Raphael was already getting
up from the couch.

“A picture you say!” Raphael laughed and maneuvered himself around the many golden and
black furniture pieces around the large sofa. While he did walk noticeably hard into a saloon
table with a rather gigantic vase on top of it once (even breaking the vase’s lid and making
things a little bit awkward), I still found it pretty perplexing he was able to work his way
around the room with relative ease. He eventually held still right in front of me and reached
out a white hand towards the mobile device. Lifting a single finger, Raphael’s vocal chords
quavered in surprise as soon as his digit connected to the screen.

“Oh my stars! Is that you and Lucifer’s darling Charlemagne in the middle? What a beautiful
woman little Charlotte has become! I have only met her once, when she was a mere baby…
but oh, it seems like she takes a lot after her father! How lovely! You must be a very proud
mother!”

I cracked a distant, disdainful smile at him. Raphael could see through touch, I now
understood. How wonderful.

Pardon my harsh words, but out of all of Luci’s odd siblings, Raphael probably peeved me
the most, with his distressing blind-man-sees-(almost)-all-routine. He was nice enough,
probably the nicest Archangel of all, and even a bit clumsy… but to me, the guy was just too
– insightful of everything. I couldn’t help but be wary of him.

I pulled the hand holding my phone back. “So did you happen to see your brother or not?”

Raphael chuckled. “Of course I did not see him!”

“Right. Because you’re… okay. I suppose I deserved that.” I cast my eyes up to the ceiling
and sighed. “Well, then I guess it’s no use asking you where he is.”

“Oh but I know where he is!” Raphael’s modest smile grew bigger, big enough to partly cut
his face in two unequal halves. “He is playing outside, with Gabe and Mike. I stayed here
because I cannot see, and that would be inconvenient for the activity Luci is doing right
now.”

I looked at him, very confused. “Are you seriously telling me he's outside - playing?”

“That is what I just said, yes.”

“With Gabriel and Michael?”

“Indeed! He is making pitfalls.”

“I— what?”
“It is the truth! You know I cannot lie. Come see for yourself if you do not believe me.” The
Archangel beckoned me to follow him to the nearest window and tried to gesture outside –
but instead violently smacked his hand against the stone wall beside of it.

As Raphael uttered a strangled cry of pain and cradled his hurt hand, I looked outside. And
sure enough – there Luci was, proudly marching around with smudged clothes, unkempt hair
and an enormous, muddied shovel in his hands. There were several comically obvious and
poorly disguised pitfalls dug in the pathway and the area behind him. His two Angelic family
members, who were strolling next to either side of him, looking very confused and more than
a little amused because of their abandoned brother’s silly antics.

Lucifer himself was having a good time, in all honestly. It was clear to see that he was very
excited to finally be able to interact with his siblings. Naturally with Gabriel (slightly bigger,
slightly more confident, slightly more carefree), since ’Gabe’ had always been one of his
favorite brothers. But even Michael, the stern, tall, muscular one that had gotten him locked
out of Heaven in the first place, got a few small laughs out of him every now and then.

I felt a pleased smile appearing on my face and I leaned on the windowsill, taking in the
lovely family scene happening just outside. Oh, would you look at my small, bouncy apple
pie, all happy and chatty because of his Angelic brethren! It was such a rare thing to see…
and it proved to me that blood was thicker than water – even if it was such weird,
complicated blood, in Lucifer’s case.

Remembering how long it had been since the last time I had seen Charlie in the flesh, I found
this a very comforting thought.

In any case… Lucifer had been heartbreakingly stressed out and wound up this morning,
because of his Heavenly siblings’ suspected arrival. They had informed us only yesterday
that they’d descend and honor us Hell-beings with their overwhelming presence at the party
this evening – and Lucifer had been restless ever since (which had made my darling small
gremlin unforgivingly adorable, but that’s a given).

In all fairness, I actually hadn’t expected Raphael, Gabriel and Michael to come visit
Lucifer’s bizarre party. They probably didn’t think much of him and most likely had more
urgent matters to attend to, I had assumed… but it turned out that the brothers actually had
been more than willing to leave God’s Paradise and look up their family in Hell.

Which was nice and all, but it did make me wonder: why did Lucifer need to invite them, of
all beings?

“Alastor,” was all that Lucifer had grunted through his teeth as an answer, evidently raging
because of the helplessness of his situation, right before he had dialed the Heavenly phone
number of one of the Archangels.

Ah. So Alastor was behind it again, I had realized.

Alastor was behind a lot of things lately… and few of them were good.
 III

While I had little to no trouble accepting Alastor as Charlie’s special someone – since he
made her happy and seemed to be very serious about her, too – the Radio Demon,
unknowingly, was getting more and more on Lucifer’s nerves every day. The only thing that
withheld Lucifer from storming Charlie’s hotel, hauling Alastor outside and brutally
slaughtering him in front of all of her sinful tenants, was our lovely daughter herself.

And she didn’t even know it.

After surviving meeting up with Hakim, Alastor had proceeded to blackmail me and Lucifer:
as long as we played along with the scheme he had up his red sleeves – we didn’t know what
kind of scheme this was, by the way – he wouldn’t tell Charlie we had originally planned to
kill him. This, naturally, also meant that we couldn’t go for a second assassination attempt.
For obvious reasons.

Lucifer had begrudgingly agreed to Alastor’s terms – it wasn’t like he had much choice, if he
cared about Charlie at all. However, ever since Hakim had mysteriously evaporated from
Hell, after that doomed confrontation with Alastor in Hyde Park, Lucifer’s already fractured
and heedless relationship with our sensitive and headstrong daughter hadn’t made a turn for
the better. Quite the opposite, really.

I worried about that.

Oh yes.

I worried that Charlie already knew something hadn’t been right with the meeting between
Alastor and Hakim. The Radio Demon returning from the park with several Angel spears
stuck deep into his bleeding body and almost dying in her arms probably hadn’t helped
matters, either. While Lucifer, Alastor and I all kept telling my sweet apple beignet that we
had nothing to do with Alastor’s near-death-experience and that it was all nothing but a series
of very unfortunate events, I feared it was all for naught.

She knew.

She most likely knew.

And that was why she had refused to seek contact with me and Lucifer for such a long time.

Charlie seemed to be slightly more forgiving towards me than her father – perhaps because I
had been the one to ultimately sabotage Luci’s plan, by sending the Royal Doctors to the
hotel to save Alastor’s life? Could be. After all, let’s not forget she had eventually decided to
give me a call a few weeks ago… and even today, I had been the lucky parent she had
messaged. Not Lucifer.

No – all that Lucifer got from Charlie was an icily cold shoulder.
And that didn’t have a good effect on him or the ‘deal’ he had made with Alastor.

Frankly spoken – if nothing happened soon, things were bound to escalate. I felt it would.
This threat… it was dangling in the air like an overripe, rotten piece of fruit hanging from a
tree’s branch, impatiently waiting for the right moment to fall and mess everything up.

I wonder if I would do anything about that, if that were to happen.

Oh, I doubted it. I loved my squishy, adorable tiny Angel man dearly and I had no intention
to stop him from slaughtering Alastor, if that made him happy – and although I didn’t exactly
mind Alastor, I, too, still didn’t like Charlie’s lover all that much. Also, it was just too much
of an effort to stop a rotten fruit from falling. What if I got dirty? I didn’t want to get dirty.

So – I’d better try and do something now, before my aloof, stale personality and my horrible,
lazy indecisiveness would cause me to lose the last vulnerable, puny shreds of respect and
love my dear, foolishly-idealistic daughter still had kept intact for me, somehow.

III

I had thought it would be hard to get rid of Raphael, Michael and Gabriel in order to speak
with Lucifer alone, but I was proved wrong by them: after all of them had reunited in the
palace’s entrance hall (and had mercilessly riddled the entire marble floor with brown, nasty
traces of mud and sand, like the brutes they were), the three Archangels said they didn’t mind
leaving the palace for a while. They also, once again, confessed to both me and Lucifer that
they had been waiting for an opportunity to do some sight-seeing in the capital city of Hell
anyway. That that’s why they had bothered to travel down to Hell in the very first place.

“But you also came here because of my rad party, right?” Lucifer had asked them with a
broad grin, although one could easily detect a hopeful tone to his loud voice. He even made
some childishly cheesy finger-guns at them.

Michael was too serious to react to that gesture and just exhaled audibly.

Raphael literally couldn’t see what his brother was doing and kept massaging his hand.

But Gabriel, thankfully enough, had the decency to clutch his chest, gurgle a death-cry and
dramatically fall down on the floor.

I slowly shook my head at that. This family was so weird.

“Because of your party? Oh absolutely,” Michael – the biggest, broadest and most
intimidating brother of all – then finally responded to Luci’s question. “I wanted to see what
a celebration in Hell looks like. I also wanted to know how my disowned brother is handling
the many sinners here, and, most importantly, I wanted to meet my niece. I would like to
know how she is doing with her noble cause to redeem sinners.”

“Is that all?” Lucifer pouted.

His brother cocked his head judgmentally at Luci. “That reminds me: are you still against her
plan to rehabilitate sinful souls? What an awful stance to take, Lucifer. You should encourage
her. That is what all fathers should do: be there for their children and support them and their
dreams. It is very important.”

Luci scoffed at that, swirling his pinky finger around in his ear. “Oh wow, sounds cool, Mike
– maybe you should tell the Big Guy up there all about that.”

“Do not blame our Father for your own faults.”

“Ugh – enough about Father already!” Lucifer snapped, making a wild, erratic swing with
one of his arms. “Okay, so you’re here because of your own stupid curiosity how we do
things here in Hell and because you’d like to meet my darling, holier-than-thou daughter. But
isn’t there something else you’re forgetting? Or somebo—”

“Well – I suppose I also wanted to try out Hell’s famous Spicy Lava Taco’s.” Michael gave
his baffled brother a ridiculously thoughtful look. “Word on the street is they are to ‘sin’ for.”

“They are,” I confirmed, and watched Michael do a triumphant, yet silent little fist pump.

“What about reconciling with your precious fallen brother?” Lucifer finally said, winking at
his buffest brother and even playfully punching his insanely humongous arm’s biceps,
automatically cracking his feeble knuckles in the process. Aww – wwwwwww fuck that hurt
– come on, Mikey-Mike! Don’t tell me you don’t feel like making up with me for wounding
my buttocks, ditching me in Hell and fatally ruining my mental stability for once and for all!
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

“I do not. I am only here because of the aforementioned arguments and the taco’s.” Michael
stared his brother down with eerie, narrowed eyes. “Taco’s never tried to conquer Heaven.”

“Such dignified, humble food,” Gabriel nodded wisely.

“I think the wall broke my hand,” Raphael said to no one in particular.

Lucifer snorted, folded his arms together and gave Michael a nasty glare. “Jesus, are you still
not over me rebelling against Pops? Man, talking about holding a grudge! Yeah okay, I get
that rebelling and gathering an entire army and attempting to overthrow Him wasn’t a very
nice thing of me to do, boo hoo, bad Luci, bad, bad Luci – but did you really need to fucking
scar my damn ass and fling me out of Heaven for that little, itty-bitty misstep, you haughty
piece of Angel shit?”

His brother, not even a little bit impressed by Luci’s sudden rage, shrugged indifferently.

“It could have been worse.”

“How! How could it have been worse, Mike!”

“He could have scarred your face,” Gabriel helpfully pointed out.
Lucifer gasped, realization striking him hard. He gripped his cute face and fondled it fiercely.
“Holy shit – you’re right! Had you marked my face, I’d have been ugly – like you guys!
Damn, sure dodged a bullet there! Thanks Mike, for obliterating my ass instead!”

Michael nodded solemnly. “Anytime.”

I really should stop rolling my eyes already, before one of them would pop out. But honestly
– the longer I watched Lucifer interact with his otherworldly, Heavenly siblings, the more I
appreciated not having any siblings for myself.

However, like I said before, Lucifer was happy to have them around, even if this little quarrel
had almost caused him to kick Michael in the face – and when the three Archangel brothers
finally left the Royal palace to have a little tour around town, Lucifer even said to me – with
an uncharacteristically sorrowful facial expression – that he didn’t like that his brothers and
he couldn’t meet up with each other more often.

“Why though? They’re all so very weird,” I bluntly told him (out loud this time) in return.

Luci seemed a bit hurt at this remark and made big, devastated puppy-eyes at me.

“But – nice,” I heard myself carry on. “Weird but nice. I suppose.”

His expression now spontaneously changed into a more elated one and he threw his arms
around me. Since I was a lot bigger than him in every single, plausible sense of the word,
Lucifer wasn’t able to fold his noodle arms around me all the way – so he went with plan B:
he just took my hand and desperately smeared it against his face, as if it was made of the
softest, most luxurious material ever.

Which it was.

“Oh! My Queen! You sweet, ruthless, wonderful dominatrix of my heart! Such lovely words
you spout with those luscious, big lips of yours! Let me bestow your curvy legs with joyous
smooches, now that we are alone at last, Lilith, my dark, majestic bae!”

“Go on right ahead,” I said, and so he did.

And then he did some more.

And then things kind of escalated, but my plucky husband was lucky we were at least able to
make it to the bedroom, before I’d let the sudden rush of blood to my loins get the better of
me and do him right there in the hallway.

III

“So tell me, angel face – why were you digging pitfalls in the castle's front yard?” I asked
Lucifer a while later. I was feeling very satisfied, resting in bed like this, and I gently
balanced my chin on my sinfully perfect hand as I looked down on the sweaty, handsome
man lying next to me.
Lucifer looked up at me, his pupils finally thinning and his breathing calming down at last.

“Pitfalls? Those aren’t plain pitfalls I made, my sexy seductress – those are death traps!”

“Death traps,” I repeated, running a finger over his naked shoulder. “Of course they are death
traps. Death traps for…?”

“For that Radio Deformity, of course!” Lucifer’s blissful glow was quick to disappear and
change into a more malicious one. He sat up, suddenly becoming pointedly bigger than I was,
the dark shade of his manly figure falling over me, his face hardening in an insane, strained
grin that didn’t even have the teeniest hint of happiness in it.

I bit the inside of my cheek. Oh my.

“Tonight’s the night, my wondrous Queen,” Luci stated, wheezing a little. “And I’m fully
prepared, too. Tonight, I will fucking end him.”

The warm, eager heat that had been pooling inside of my lower body again instantly cooled
off. An annoying lump in my throat formed instead, and no matter how many times I tried to
swallow it, I couldn’t.

Was I too late?

Lucifer awaited my reaction. I noticed he was, judging on his tense, stiff features and the fact
he didn’t move an inch. He needed me to say something supportive. I knew he was waiting
for me to say something he wanted me to say – to form an opinion he could live with. So my
thoughts did their best to collect themselves and fanatically searched my head’s gray masses
for a way out that would be the most preferable one. In the end, I just reached for my cell
phone, looked up Charlie’s picture and showed it to my quivering love.

“Look Luci – it’s Charlie. She’ll be wearing this dress tonight.”

Lucifer took the device from my hands and ogled the displayed photograph on the screen for
the longest time. I sat upright and put my hair in an enormous, unstable bun while I neutrally
watched Lucifer’s angry, callous face become a little bit softer. That gave me hope – Alastor
was in the picture as well after all, but that didn’t seem to ignite a spiteful reaction out of him.
For now, at least.

“She looks lovely, don’t you think?” I asked Luci, touching his arm ever so slightly. “Our
little apple beignet. Lovely and happy.”

“She does,” Lucifer admitted.

“You see?” I smirked, a bit relieved. “She really did her best to look nice for your party, apple
pie.”

“She didn’t sent me anything.” He sighed deeply.

My heart fell and my smile faded. “I suppose she didn’t, no.”

“Ah well. That proves it, doesn’t it?” Lucifer smiled a very unconvincing grin and returned
the phone to me. “Whelp! Charlotte definitely hates me, no doubt about it. After everything I
have done for that… that red motherfucking dipshit in order to mend our fantastic father-
daughter bond, she still can’t stand me. I even adjusted this whole damn party to his fucking
conditions, what the crap is that all about, Lili – but to no avail. No matter what I do,
Charlotte doesn’t even want to send me a tiny little message. Not even a meme. Not even a
fucking meme, Lilith! And everyone knows your kid has no respect for you if she doesn’t
share memes with you! So you tell me – what’s left of Charlotte for me to lose?”

My already delightfully sore body ached some more upon hearing that and I enclosed my
long fingers around the soft sheets of our bed.

You will lose the last, stubborn bit of her good heart that still sees you and thinks of you as a
loving father, I wanted to say. But instead, the words that stumbled out were: “She’ll never
forgive you.”

I wasn’t sure if that was the better choice, per se.

Lucifer opened his mouth and barked out a loud, mocking laugh. He then suddenly crawled
towards me on all fours, his thin orbs lit up like two red, ominous slits that pierced my eyes.
It hurt to look at them – and at the same time, I simply couldn’t look away from them. His
eyes were the windows of his very soul, and god did I enjoy peeking down that empty,
chilling void. Caught by surprise, I fell back onto the mattress, licking my lips, watching
Luci’s every single move.

“Of course she will forgive me, Lilith! Eventually! Time will heal all wounds, my awesome
purple, horned amazon – and hell, who knows just what crazy age we and Charlotte are able
to reach! Maybe we’ll live for another couple of centuries! Maybe even a few millennia!
More than that! You think that after 100 000 000 years have passed, Charlotte will still not
have forgiven me for killing her disgusting, lying scumbag of a lover? HA! Lilith – by then,
she’ll have had so many more other lovers… all sinners and demons that can surely help her
get over one stupid puny piece of human waste, no biggie! He will be wiped out of her
memories in no time! Or after a long time! Who cares? So she’ll stop talking to me for some
years, maybe even decennia. Big deal! In the end, she will start longing for her parents again,
the only factors in her life that are constant – we both know she can’t find a decent, long-
lasting partner here in Hell anyway! So everything will be fine again. For sure!”

I knew that glint in his eyes. I recognized that strange, buzzing, vibrating emotion that came
out of his throat. I felt that seething hatred beaming off of him, almost burning me from
merely being close-by it.

I closed my own eyes and reviewed everything that had been said so far from the inside of
my head. Well, I was too late to stop him from executing this bound-to-fail-horribly-plan. I
had lived with him for too long to foolishly believe I could talk this terrible ploy he had out
of his overheated brain, and going against his wishes would – well, it would make him very
sad. I didn’t want to make my lovely apple pie sad – wasn’t inevitably losing our daughter
tragic enough for him already?
 A sad Lucifer would also most likely destroy all of Hell. We wouldn’t want that to happen,
now.

So I had no other choice but to accept that Lucifer really was going to try and kill Alastor
tonight.

Emphasis on try.

Seeing a little dot of light in the pitch-black darkness that had started to rapidly enclose itself
around Alastor and my lovely apple beignet’s happiness, the little and big gears inside of my
mind started to twist and turn, as I rolled against my smaller, pale-skinned husband and
affectionately pinched his red cheeks. Lucifer always liked it when I stretched his face like
that – and yes, even now, he calmed down and happily let me caress his cheeks.

“We should get ready for the party, angel face,” I then said. “Now that your brothers are
sightseeing outside of the palace and we have passionately exchanged not only bodily fluids,
but also foreboding murder plans to potentially alienate our only child even further from us
with one another, I sure am feeling a lot more energized.”

“Uh – bwreally?” he bumbled through my cheek-rubbing-actions. “I had bwought you

wouldn’t bwreally like my bwplan.”

“I indeed didn’t like your plan at first, but your enthusiasm and misplaced optimism surely
convinced me. So…”

I tenderly booped him on the nose and shot a seductive smile at him – the same I had used to
utterly demolish any last resolve my ex-husband had before giving himself to me… and also
the same I had used to ravish Lucifer, the first, faithful time I had laid my eyes on him.

“…tell your blatantly beautiful wife all about your wicked plans and death traps, Luci.”

Chapter End Notes

King Midas saves a drunken satyr, who happens to be the old schoolteacher of the Greek
god Dionysus. Dionysus is so grateful for the King’s good deed that he tells Midas he
may make a wish. Midas – a good, yet greedy man – doesn’t need to think for long and
tells the god he’d like to power to change everything he touches into gold. Dionysus
does his thing and then leaves, leaving the King to play around with his newfound
power.
The King rushes outside and touches a twig – the twig instantaneously changes into
gold. He turns towards the roses in the castle garden and brushes them all with his hand
– POOF! – nothing but golden roses! Overjoyed, King Midas keep working his magic
on everything that needs to be goldified, and when he’s finally satisfied, he calls for a
huge feast to celebrate his incredible power. Unfortunately, Midas then discovers his
golden touch has a big downside: when Dionysus gave him the power to change
everything he touches into gold, he meant everything. So that includes food and drinks.
The King starts to realize his wish may have been a big mistake… but not before things
get even worse: at a certain moment, Midas’ daughter comes towards him, complaining
about the scentless roses in the garden and asking for a comforting hug. The poor girl
changes into gold as soon as Midas put his arms around her, positively horrifying the
King.
Now Midas is officially fed up with his powers and prays to the god Dionysus
desperately, pleading that he please takes his golden touch away. Dionysus appears and
tells the King that he should wash his powers away with the water of the river Pactolus.
Midas does just that and, in the end, is relieved from his golden touch.

Yet another myth written down by the Roman poet Ovid. The story of Midas actually
continues for a while, since the king gets donkey’s ears in a subsequent myth and dies a
rather depressing death… but that’s a myth for another time!
 The Frog Prince
Chapter Summary

Alastor and Charlie arrive at the Royal Palace, and Charlie gives Alastor an ultimatum.

Chapter Notes

Chisena went and made some BEAUTIFUL drawings of Lucifer's three Heavenly
Brothers! 8DDDDDDDD They look so AWESOME! Check them out here!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Alright Charlie – breathe, just breathe.

Everything should be alright.

Everything should go fine.

Everything should just feel like it was all going to be okay. Right? Right.

So then… then why did I feel this tight, anxious tension rampaging around inside of my
chest, with every swift and smooth second the limousine got closer to the Royal Palace? As if
something terrible was going to happen. As if there was a disaster about to strike, just
waiting to happen. As if… Alastor and I wouldn’t return from the party the same way.

But that was just silly.

I looked out of the car’s window and bit down on my thumb’s nail, my free hand fidgeting
with the glove the other one still needed to slip in.

I knew it – most likely – were my own nerves and insecurities whispering to me now, trying
to get me down like they always did… but knowing that didn’t mean that I was impervious to
my own mean words and quiet sneers all of a sudden.
Also, it had been a while since the last time I had been at my parents’ place, after all – I
didn’t know if I could… handle them on their own turf, where they could easily look down
on me and get themselves ready to smile pitifully – no, condescendingly, even, at my ideals
and beloved hotel.

Not to mention the way they’d treat Al. Would I be able to deal with that?
If mom’s frosty opinion on Alastor was anything to go by, he shouldn’t be expecting a very
warm welcome. I knew my mother at best didn’t think much of him – and that was just mom.
I shuddered to actually take some time wondering how my dad would feel about letting Al
into his personal residence… what he would say to him… or maybe even do.

I saw a fold appear on my unclear reflection’s forehead, right there in the window, and
gnawed down harder on my thumb’s nail. On that moment, as I sat in the white vehicle that
would take me and Alastor to my parents’ place, I swore to myself that if they said as much
as one lousy word to or about Alastor, I’d turn around and get us the hell out of there. I would
never look or come back again, no matter how much they’d plead or beg me for forgiveness!

They had gotten away with too much already. No more of that anymore! I was fed up with it!
I was—

“What is bothering you, my love?” Al suddenly spoke up. One of his hands found its way to
mine and gripped it gently, making me unclench my stiff fist and release the glove I had been
holding so rigidly a little more.

I let myself chuckle weakly, but I didn’t budge. “Oh – nothing, really! I’m just a bit… unsure
about this whole evening and stuff.”

“Are you now.”

“Yeah...” I muttered, watching my counterpart’s face in the mirror fall some more. “I’m sorry,
Al – even after all of your efforts in the last couple of weeks to (mentally) prepare me for
tonight, I’m still feeling very… queasy about that nonsensical party dad is throwing in honor
of… well, me, I guess. I just don’t know what he’s up to or what to expect of him. I feel like a
wreck.”

“A wreck? You?” Alastor laughed like he had never heard anything funnier, although his
laughter wasn’t as boisterous as usual. “My dearest, sweetest princess – come now, would
you look at me?”

A sulky ‘no’ was ready to leave my lips, but before I could say it out loud, I saw a black and
red hand appear in the window, next to my reflection’s awaiting face. I then watched it
fluently move in front of my eyes, felt the sharp, yet careful fingertips of his hand land on the
base of my jaw, testing the waters. When I didn’t protest, he softly pressed the rest of his
hand against my cheek. His hand was – cold, as his hand usual was whenever it touched me.
It didn’t feel unpleasant though.

“Please look at me, Charlie.”

I could feel he scooted closer to me.

I sighed. Without using too much force, Alastor guided my face away from the limousine’s
window, turning it further and further, until I was facing him. He offered me a small,
contented smile upon seeing me answer his fixed stare with my own. His thumb rubbed
comfortingly over my jawline and with his other hand, he took my own fingers away from
my mouth and brought it closer to his face. I felt a sudden rush to the head when he placed a
couple of kisses on top of it, his clashing eyes peeking at mine adoringly.

“A-Al,” I stammered.

After leaving a final kiss to the back of my hand, he raised his face. He didn’t say anything
right away – he just looked at me. His eyes flitted over my flashy dress and naked shoulders,
a loving, proud smile never leaving his lips as he did so. While his hand on my face kept
caressing my slightly heated-up skin, his gaze continued to admire my looks, my face, my
everything. Finally, his eyes ended their thorough, careful examination when they met up
with my own again.

“You don’t know how lovely you are.”

Unable to produce words at that, I just – carried on gaping at him, my cheeks blooming
furiously and giving away how much I had unknowingly longed for that heartfelt
compliment. I swallowed, tore my eyes away from him – before they got all teary – and
looked down, at my hand holding the glove. Al wasn’t touching it anymore and clumsily, I
began wringing said hand into the white, thin thing. Thanks to all of Al's sweet words, I felt a
bit unstable, so it wasn’t easy getting it in.

Alastor watched me struggle for a few seconds, awfully amused by my rather hysterical way
of putting on a glove, and took hold of my hand again as soon as my fingers had all found
their way into the glove’s smaller openings.

“Allow me,” he murmured, as he started dragging up the glove’s sleeve. I wore opera gloves,
reaching all the way from the wrist to the upper part of my arms, and I shivered when he
calmly and so very slowly rolled the silky fabric of the glove over my now-hypersensitive
skin. He either didn’t see that I had goose bumps all over my arm or simply chose to ignore
it, but that didn’t stop him from carrying on his horribly suggestive touches, sluggishly
brushing his icy fingers over my hot skin as more and more of my arm’s bare flesh
disappeared into the long piece of fabric.

Oh my god, the steadily growing, twitching feeling in the lower parts of my body was so
inappropriate and I should be so ashamed and was it too late to tell him to just jump me
already? Seriously, I was this close to rip these bothersome pantyhose off my trembling legs,
trap Alastor in-between them and sputter to him to please have his merry, sexy way with me. I
didn’t even care we were right in the back of the limousine and Husk (who was driving us)
would be incredibly disgusted by our stunt – nope, not at all, not when my burning desire for
Al was flaring up like this.

All because Al had rolled up my glove’s sleeve.

God. Looks like I had reached a new rock bottom.

“A-Al,” I mumbled again, my voice queasy and all over the place, and I put my – now
decently gloved – hand on the middle of his chest, sneaking it into his snug waistcoat - just a
few hesitant fingers at first... but soon enough, my entire hand followed. I felt his heart's
beating picking up speed as I moved my hand right over it. Al made a muffled noise, pulled
me closer and impatiently raised my face. I looked at him and half-expected him to say
something flirty to me, but he wasted no time and brusquely connected our mouths together
with a hard, firm kiss. Instantly swept from my feet like that, I leaned more into him and
opened my mouth, wanting to deepen the kiss, taste more of him, enjoy more of him, feel his
chilly hands disappear into the hidden folds of my dress and warm him up against my
feverish body until he—

“No. Oh no. NO. Don’t you even fuckin’ think about you, you damn horndogs – I just
fucking cleaned back there! HEY!”

I didn’t know what hit me first – Husk’s enraged yelling or Alastor’s (painfully solid)
forehead, as the cat demon yanked at the steering wheel and stopped the vehicle so abruptly, I
basically crashed right into Al and smacked the both of us against the door behind him.

“Ouch!”

“Ow!”

My head hurt, but I was quick to adapt and I sat up straight away. Hurriedly, I began fixing
my hair and dress, pulling up my top, all while grinning maniacally at Husk. Alastor restored
his original posture as well, though he kept blushing and rubbing his hurt forehead. He also
mumbled some things under his breath that could only have been curses (since his invisible
audience uttered a few loud gasps and snickers).

“H-hi Husk,” I heard my own high-pitched voice, screeching through the embarrassing
atmosphere inside of the car, “is… there anything the matter? Can we help you?”

Smooth, Charlie. God.

Husk, leaning his arm over the front seat, raised an eyebrow at me sarcastically. “Oh yeah,
you can help me, Princess… by getting off Al’s dick, for starters, and out of the car, before I
fuckin’ pop a damn vein!”

My heart (the poor thing really wasn’t getting a single break today, now was it) leaped into
my throat when I realized the true meaning of Husk's words. “Get out? You mean… are – are
we there alread—”

“AND, while we're at it anyway, tell me you’re sorry for almost making me witness you bone
that scrawny red bastard sweating bullets right there next to you!” Husk visibly shuddered,
horrified by the mere thought of such an atrocity alone. “Ugggghhh, seeing something that
unholy would’ve chucked my already screwed-up soul straight into the Void, no fuckin’
questions asked.”

I lowered my head in shame and mumbled a quiet “sorry”.

Meanwhile, Alastor began to laugh out loud, although it sounded very unnatural and way too
wound up. “Ha ha ha! Now now, Husker! Don’t be so hard on—”
“Oh don’t even get me started on YOU, Mr. Fancy Flat Ass!” Husk squeezed his glowering
eyes almost shut and stuck out a pointy finger/claw at him, effectively shutting Alastor up.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a fuckin’ calm and collected and, huh, hmmm, now what’s the
word – asexual gentleman, you goddamn nasty pervert? What’s gotten you all hot and
bothered all of a sudden – can’t your dead dick handle a little make-up and a pretty dress on
your lady?”

“Well.” Al coughed, obviously feeling a bit rattled, and I caught his eyes darting over me
quickly before he continued. “Don’t overreact now, Husker! It was only a kiss.”

“Only a kiss?” Husk made a face as if it was the most despicable thing he had ever gotten
wind of. “You fuckin’ sucked her lips off, you pig!”

Al colored some more, his smile getting a chagrined undertone to it. “I’m sure it wasn’t that
—”

Husk interrupted him again. “What would you’ve done if you really had started mounting
her, huh? Messin’ up her nice attire, just because you wanted to get some? There’s a fuckin’
party she needs to go to! She needs to make an impression! You think she’d make a good
impression on her old ma and pa – shit, you think she’d make a good impression on the damn
guests, entering the palace looking all flustered and fuckin’… fuckin’ windswept, like some
ragdoll? Did you fuckin’ forget about that, Alastor?! They’d fuckin’ laugh their asses off at
Charlie! Everything would’ve been ruined and that would’ve all been your fault!”

Was I missing something? I blinked confusedly as I stared at the cat demon, while Al seemed
to see the error of his ways. He frowned a little – just a little, mind you – and crushed his lips
together until there was only a fine, upward shape left.

“You’re right, my dear old friend.”

“Of fuckin’ course I am.” Husk hummed. “And?”

“And I – apologize for my… irksome behavior.”

“Irkso – fuckin' hell, talk normally, you posing prick.” Husk clicked his tongue, then gestured
at me. “Now also tell the princess you’re sorry.”

Al looked at me. I looked back, smiling sheepishly at him, pushing some of my long hair
behind my back and tugging on a sagging glove’s sleeve.

He chuckled, gave me an affectionate, rare smile that I… that I actually hadn’t seen all that
often before, and shook his head.

“Oh, I most certainly won’t.”

…I could only flush stupidly at the teasing little comment and bit my lower lip in quiet,
excited delight.

CcC
About five minutes later, we both looked on in silence as a very disgruntled Husk stepped up
the gas and raced away from the narrow pathway and the gigantic, overbearing garden he
had dropped us off in. We could hear the shrieking of the tires even from a mile away, when
we watched him making a sharp U-turn to the left and barely avoided driving over a couple
of startled sinners, digging through a garbage dumpster.

“We struck a nerve within the old fellow, I’m afraid. Now he’s late for his karaoke night –
and that’s unforgivable!” Alastor eventually said, sniggering. But it didn’t sound like he was
actually mocking his fuzzy friend. I watched Al’s face as it graced another, unusual soft
smile, still looking in the direction Husk had left. I felt my own lips curling up as well and
nudged him in the side.

“Husk really is your best friend, isn’t he?”

Finally, he looked at me again and nodded. “He truly is.”

Oh – he admitted it! A warm, fuzzy feeling gathered itself inside of me and I flashed a happy
smile at him. Then I noticed his tie had gotten a bit crooked and I beckoned him to come a
little closer, so that I could fix it.

More than happy to comply, Al put his arms on his back and bent towards me a little. As I
took hold of his tie and adjusted it, I let out a soft, surprised chuckle when I felt him press a
kiss to my forehead.

“Well then! While I have to admit that we… definitely took it way too far back in the vehicle,
I can see the activities we sneakily partook in still greatly improved your spirits, now didn’t
they, hmm?”

He pinched my cheeks, wiggling an eyebrow at me.

“I think I told you before, didn’t I?” I smiled affectionately at him, seeking contact with his
eyes again. “You always manage to make me feel better, Al.”

Alastor didn’t say anything to that, but his entire being did appear to light up in blissful
satisfaction. His grin grew bigger and wider, and he lowered himself, until his face was at my
face’s height. Wordlessly, I stared at him, laughing a little, waiting what he was going to do.
Then he swayed some stray hairs out of my eyes, tilted my face and kissed me on the lips
once more, letting his eyes close themselves, savoring the moment. It was a chaste, kind kiss
that I chased after, timidly touching his face as well with a gloved hand.

After the kiss, Al took my hand, gallantly put it around and on top of his arm and gave it a
soothing little pat. Then we finally started walking down the long path that guided us to the
Royal Palace, sparkling in the distance.

CcC
Picture an intimidating, historical, glimmering, neo-gothic-themed palace – any intimidating,
historical, glimmering, neo-gothic-themed palace of which you’re absolutely, 100% sure a
wealthy family of incredible importance must live in.

Now picture it in the colors of the darkest of black and the deepest, most disturbing kind of
red.

That’s what the Royal Palace in Hell looked like.

It was an unsettling, imposing regal residence, with perfectly smooth, clean, high walls and
gigantic, rectangle-shaped windows that occupied multiple floors. The building was big and
broad, and its surfaces were carefully beautified with the most detailed decorations and
bulges. Multiple stained glasses were built into the walls of the upper floors, every single one
of them representing a biblical scene from the tale of how mom and dad supposedly met.
Lots of apples, too.

It was a bit unnerving to approach the Royal Palace, because from a fair distance, it looked
like it was just a huge, castle-formed shadow, ominously waiting for foolish visitors, with
darkly-colored, stained glasses floating around in its shape. It gave the entire building’s
exterior a ghostly, sinister feel, no matter whether it was day- or nighttime. I never bothered
thinking about it too much when I was still a child and living with my parents, but now that I
had come back here after such a long time, I could see why people often described the Royal
Palace as a place nightmares were created in.

The front garden of the Royal Palace was just as outlandish as the castle was, outstretched
and filled with dangerous, flesh-eating plants and flowers, snapping at everyone who dared to
pass through. The grass, and many other bizarre plant-like things that could be ‘admired’ in
the garden, was darker than it was supposed to be. However, it (usually) was in a fine,
pristine shape, even with the many pits of lava and rubble littering the environment. Finally,
there was a high, pointy fence surrounding all of the garden and my parents’ house: not just
an ordinary fence – no, this fence was made of black spears and arrows in all shapes and
forms, all with the sharp ends pointing up, piercing the sky.

There also was a back yard behind the palace with a vast lake and numerous monsters living
in it, that dad like to keep as pets – but since Al and I weren’t going to walk past that big
puddle of horror and despair, I saw no reason to mention that specific area to him.

“Oh yes,” Alastor joked jovially, as we strolled down the foggy pathway directly leading us
to the palace’s entrance, “this is the place your parents live in alright! The dreadfulness is so
thick here, it’s practically oozing out of the very air, ha ha!”

I made a vague, humming sound and strengthened my hold on his arm. Talking about
dreadfulness – I was a bit puzzled and even ashamed, to some extent, upon seeing the
godawful state the pathway was in. There were all these… weird, messy heaps of ground and
debris around the lane and even some in the garden itself. That was bizarre – as well as it was
really unsightly to see! What the heck were those strange… garbage circles? Were mom and
dad thinking about remodeling the front yard or something? Couldn’t they have waited with
that until after the party?
Upon further inspection, I also noticed a familiar-looking snake demon with a top hat lying
next to some sort of hole a little up ahead, groaning excessively and with audible whizz in his
loud whining. A lot of black and red smoke was fuming out of the hole he had seemingly
crawled out of and if you looked closely, you could see that there was some sort of broken
piece of machinery stuck in it. There also were countless kinds of smashed-up weapons
scattered around him.

Huh…

I wanted to point him out to Alastor, but Alastor walked past the yelping man so briskly and
decisively that I could only toss an apologetic smile in the man’s direction. In my defense,
apart from some bruises and cuts, the guy seemed fine and sounded way too into his
whimpering, so I guess he was… okay?

Oh well.

CcC

“Now! Just a bit more – and then we’re there, my dear!” Al said, sounding a bit out of breath
as we ascended the stairs towards the spiky front doors of my parents’ residence. His face had
a gleeful sheen to it and he seemed very enthusiastic – Alastor had clearly been looking
forward to this event.

That made me think: when was the last time he had attended an actual party? To which he
was invited to?

My train of thought was disturbed when he suddenly picked me up and carried me over the
last few steps of the stairs, ignoring my startled shriek.

“Are you ready to absolutely blow everybody’s socks off with your beautiful, radiant
appearance and jaw-dropping dance moves, Charlie dear? To remind everybody at the party
who’s going to be in charge of this hellhole one day and is worthy of everybody’s undivided
attention, lest they’ll be doomed to rot away in here forever?”

“Jesus, Al,” I stammered, a bit overwhelmed.

He grinned. “No no, not Jesus and not me, either – not tonight, at least. Give it time. No - I’m
talking about you, my darling! Just you.”

I laughed a bit harder now. “You’re so cheesy, god!”

“I’m also deadly serious though.” In front of the heavy, enormous doors of the palace, he put
me down on the hard tiles underneath out feet and placed both of his hands on my shoulders.
“You deserve a nice, entertaining evening, filled with dancing and excitement, my love. I did
the best I could to – advice your parents and help them prepare a party that’s suitable for a
hardworking, honest woman like you. A woman who’s been yearning for a fun celebration
for so long, it’s not even nice to jest about it. I hope you’ll enjoy yourself tonight, my sweet
Charlie. I really do. Nothing would make me happier.”
Again, there was a tightness in my ribcage – but this time, it was because of nothing but the
sweetest, most tender feelings that soared inside of it. I lifted my hands up and put them
down on his arms, which were still connected to my shoulders.

“You do so much for me, Al.”

“I do,” he nodded.

I fondled his arms a bit. They was bare, since he had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. I could
feel the grotesque, vicious scars on it scraping against my fingertips, gloves or no gloves, and
I was once more reminded of how much he probably must have suffered – in life and after he
had died and woken up in Hell. Unwittingly, my gaze stopped its movement when Al
casually pulled back his arms – and I took note of the cross-shaped scar on his right hand. It
had gotten bigger.

It looked more painful these days. It made me feel nauseous to look at, to be fair.

“You think I’m worth it all?” I found myself saying out loud, for whatever reason.

“Yes,” he replied, right away, as if the answer was set in stone in his mind, and touched my
cheek with the back of his – good – hand. “You are worth everything, Charlie. Everything
Hell has to offer you – and what Heaven has to offer, too, if you’d ask me. And I’m adamant
on giving you all of that.”

“That sounds… very ambitious. Maybe a bit too ambitious.” I looked at him and felt the
remarkably soft-hearted movements of his hand against my face. “Al… I don’t need
everything, you know? I know you think the world of me, but in the end, I’m a pretty basic
girl. I just need my friends, my hotel, my dreams and my determination. I just need you. A
future with you. A possibility with you. That is all. That is more than enough for me. That
makes me happy.”

“I’m afraid it’s a bit too late for that now, my love.” Al breathed in and out. “At this moment,
all that there’s left for me to do is giving you everything.”

My eyes spread themselves wide open and the cheerful, bubbly feeling swirling around inside
of me froze, halting its flows.

There it was again.

That strange, glum tone his voice sometimes got, when he spoke to me about a subject only
he seemed to know about. It caused knots to form inside of my stomach, whenever his words
got that melancholic tune, whenever his plucky invisible audience grew quiet and whenever
he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

I didn’t want him to sound like that.

I didn’t want him to look like that.

What was he hiding? Just what was he hiding? And why did it make him so – sad?
Did it had something to do with me? It had something to do with me, hadn’t it?

We could hear music spilling out of the giant, dark building we were standing in front of – we
could see the lights flickering behind the massive curtains. Obviously, there was some loud,
upbeat-sounding chattering going on right behind those doors. It was almost irresistible to
me, it wanted to lure me in…

…just like everything Alastor had done for me these past weeks was to lure me in, comfort
me, soothe my mind, distract it from all the other things he was doing for me.

I loved the unconditional love he gave me. Really, I did. It was real, it was unabashed, it was
honest and it made me feel more special than I had ever felt.

But I needed more than his unconditional love.

I needed the truth.

Right there at the doorstep of my parents’ regal house, I made a decision and reached up to
Al’s face, gently making it look my way – like he had done with my face, back in the
limousine. Although Al had gotten used to me touching him, the unexpected touch to his face
still shook him up. I could tell he had been about to put on a huge smile, knock on the doors
and let my parents know that we had arrived… and then I had to stir things up and mess up
his plans by grabbing his face and making it look at me.

“Hey Al?” I told him, smiling and holding on to his gaze. “You’re right. Let’s have a lot of
fun tonight. Let’s dance the stars off the nightly sky and let’s swing and laugh and entertain
ourselves. Let’s kiss each other breathless and hold hands. Let’s joke around and tonight,
once we’re on our own – let’s make fiery, desirous love to one another until the bed can’t take
it anymore – until we can’t take it anymore. Let’s love each other so blatantly and so
intensely that even my mom and dad won’t know what to think of it. Let’s do that, Al – let’s
do all of that tonight.”

Alastor didn’t say anything – he realized what was coming. He didn’t look alarmed though
and he didn’t try to stop me. He simply listened to me, his facial expression understanding
and patient.

“But once the party’s over…” I deliberately paused there for a moment, making sure I’d pick
the right words – words he couldn’t twist and turn into his own truths, “…once the party’s
over, you will tell me about the secrets you’ve been hiding from me for… for god knows how
long. No more excuses. No more distractions, darling. No more. Okay?”

Alastor kept quiet still. There was something happening in his face. Something that faintly
resembled a sweet relief seemed to seep through his stubborn grin, even if it was just a small,
barely noticeable hint of it. I’m sure not everyone could have seen it – Alastor was a
professional when it was about masking his feelings and putting up a strong front.

But I knew him longer than today.

I had wrapped my arms around him when he had tried his best to get himself away from me. I
had seen and heard him cry and kissed his tears away on more than one occasion, no matter
how much he attempted to hide them from me. I had watched him lose his sacred control and
seen him come undone on top of me, or underneath me, clenching his teeth and clinging to
me with everything he had.

I had seen it all. And he knew I had seen it all. He knew it was time.

Therefore, with no way back, he gave me a single, resigned nod.

“Alright, my love.”

I frowned, squeezing my fingers together and twisting his cheek a bit. “You promise you’ll
tell me everything after the party?”

He chortled, prying my hand off his face and intertwining it with his own fingers. “You don’t
trust my word for it? You wound me, Charlie! Now, what can I do to make you believe me?”

I looked up at Al for a while, before closing my eyes. “Seal it.”

“Seal it?”

“Seal the deal with a kiss.”

He groaned. “My goodness, Charlie, you’re so unbearably adorable.”

I shrugged, still keeping my eyes shut. “You like to seal your deals with handshakes, I like to
seal mine with kisses.”

“Only the deals you make with me, I hope?”

“You’ll never know.”

“Why you little old brat.”

I snickered – and then I just waited, pursing my lips insistently. For a frightful two to three
seconds, nothing happened. I was almost starting to fear the worst, but then, finally, I could
feel him inching closer in response. I relaxed, feeling happiness wash over me upon realizing
that this awful uncertainty that had been bothering me for so long now was coming to an end
soon, and I enjoyed the plush, confident press of his lips against mine more than probably
was needed.

“It’s a deal,” I softly said when he pulled back. “Right?”

He nodded, resting his - still somewhat sore - forehead against mine for a little longer. “It’s a
deal, my love.”

No way back now.

Not anymore.
 Thank god.

Chapter End Notes

A spoiled princess drops her golden ball into the castle’s pond and fears her precious
plaything is lost forever. But as she weeps bitter tears, a big frog jumps out of the water
and tells her he’ll retrieve the toy for her… if the Princess is willing to befriend him.
Reluctantly, the Princess agrees – and the frog gets the golden ball out of the pond. The
Princess instantly forgets about the frog and rushes back into the castle, but the frog
follows her and demands she pays attention to him. The girl doesn’t really want to do
anything with the talking amphibian anymore though and whines about the frog to her
dad, the King. But the King says that she has made a promise to the frog and that she
should keep it, like a good Princess.
Disgruntled, the Princess plays with the frog, lets him eat from her plate and even allows
him to sleep in her bedroom with her, on her pillow, even!
When they are about to sleep, the frog suggests the Princess should give him a little kiss.
The Princess then has about enough of the demanding little slimy animal and picks him
up, flinging him against the wall! Unbeknownst to her, this action manages to break an
evil spell, as the frog suddenly transforms into a handsome prince! The flustered
Princess says she’s sorry for her misdeeds and the Prince, who’s fallen in love with her
(for whatever reason), graciously forgives her – heck, he even asks for her hand in
marriage, which the Princess is more than happy to give to him.

Traditionally, this cute fairy tale is the very first story to appear in any storybook by the
Brothers Grimm. In more modern variations of this story, the Princess indeed gives the
frog the kiss he asks her for… but in this older version, she just smacks him against the
wall. Not to be mean, but in all honesty – I’d do the same.
 Cinderella
Chapter Summary

Alastor, Charlie, Lucifer and Lilith all share some very awkward moments together, and
Charlie catches a glimpse of even more family members.

Chapter Notes

Chisena made yet another lovely drawing about the three Archangels - with Gabriel as
the comic's main character! 8DDDDD Check it out here!

Songs used in this chapter:

'Quit Playing Games With My Heart', Backstreet Boys
'Relight My Fire', Take That
'I've Been Thinking About You', Londonbeat
Yes, you can totally quickstep to these songs. Trust me on this one. XDDDDD

Enjoy!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

When Alastor knocked on the heavy doors of the palace and they opened themselves in front
of us, I couldn’t help but fasten my hands around his arm tighter.

I braced myself. I had feared the suffocating air that constantly loomed in and around the
regal building would try to smother me, the second I’d set a single foot inside of the Royal
Palace. It had always been like that, after all, so – why would it be different today?

Thankfully enough, my restless body and wary mind were put at ease almost right away
when the (exuberantly-decorated) entrance hall revealed itself to me, the warmth of the bright
lights and the cheerful notes of the music playing in the other room washing over me.

Rather than heard, I felt myself utter a little gasp as I spread my baffled eyes open wide and
took in the sight in front of me.

Never before had the fancy palace’s entrance hall looked this inviting. Instead of the usual
dark and solemn colors greeting me, there was an abundance of gold welcoming me inside of
my parental home. It was all thanks to the great number of flashing, glimmering, vibrant
lights, the many balloons (in many shapes and sizes, dangling from the ceiling in big, festive
clusters), the long, curly streamers embellishing the walls and the continuous rain of glitter
and confetti whirling down on us, in pretty much all the colors of the rainbow.

Oh! It – it was, and looked, and felt truly amazing!

For the first time in what felt to be forever, the Royal Palace – my birthplace, a castle that I
had always regarded as a gloomy, boring and nerve-wrecking place to be – looked like a fun
house to come back home to. It… actually blew my mind.

Also, the longer and more attentive I listened to the familiar music playing on the
background, the more I realized it was—

“Nineties music!” I paused from formally nodding to the bowing servants in the entrance’s
corridor to turn and look at Al - and I cracked up, delighted. “It’s awful, dreadful, corny
nineties music! The Backstreet Boys even – it’s the freaking Backstreet Boys! Quit playing
games with my heart, Al! Can you hear it? Oh my god!”

Al, who had been a little bit bewildered at the gaudy, yet very celebratory way the place was
looking as well, tore his gaze off all the intimidating and posh, luxurious furniture
surrounding the two of us. He answered my gleeful grin with a huge one of his own.

“I’m delighted to see how much you already love it, Charlie dear!”

My jaw dropped when I noticed how self-righteous he looked.

“You… did you arranged this?” I was pretty sure my eyes sparkled even more than that
ridiculously giant disco ball I spotted glistering and twirling away in the Royal Hall, where
the guests probably were and where the main event - the actual party - took place. I got so
excited, rambled shreds of sentences just kept tumbling out of my mouth. “Oh god. You
knew about the karaoke party - how much I wanted to join the rest of the hotel with the
singing and nineties and stuff – and how bummed out I was that I had to go to this party
instead - and then you - you somehow managed to make sure I’d get to be a part of it like this
anyway! Isn't that so?”

Alastor chuckled, scratching his cheek, looking both pleased as well as a tad embarrassed.
“Well now – this party's main theme was a mere suggestion I told your parents, truth be to—”

I didn’t let him finish – I forcefully yanked him down to my level by his tie and smooched his
cunning mouth shut before he could say anything else. Al widened his mismatched eyes in
surprise, but let me kiss him, enclosing his hands around my upper arms. I could even feel
him once again pulling up a slightly sagging sleeve.

It was such a subtle, caring gesture that I could have melted in a stupid pink puddle right on
the spot – but I didn’t.

“I freaking love you so much,” I wheezed instead, when he managed to push me back a little,
“you have no idea.”

Alastor smiled, wiped my lips and leaned towards me, brushing my hair away from my ear.
“It’s no karaoke, unfortunately – but my dear, you have no idea how danceable those
godawful nineties hits are: ballroom dancing is more suitable for these songs than one might
think!”

“No way.” I put my hands in front of my mouth. “Are you telling me that we’re going to
quickstep to classic guilty pleasures like… like ‘Relight My Fire’ and ‘I’ve Been Thinking
About You’?”

He grinned. “I might have been practicing.”

He had been practicing.

Al had been practicing dancing on terrible music from the nineties that was totally unknown
to him, a guy from the twenties/thirties – all for me.

That must have been incredibly awkward and weird for him, and my fucking god, if my heart
was going to get any fuller right now, it was going to burst and leak love all over the tiles
here, messing up my pretty dress and make-up and it would all be his fault and ohhhh god, I
was going to climb him like a monkey tonight.

But since I really, REALLY was unable to speak without squealing or crying happy tears, I
just – beamed at him, already trembling from the anticipation of it all. Out of their own
accord, my uncontrollable, neatly-gloved limbs threw themselves around his well-dressed
torso and pulled Alastor into a loving embrace. He saw it coming this time and let me hug
him, placing few kisses to the top of my head and collecting me in his arms. I smiled and
sighed, enjoying his touches and this cozy moment of quiet serenity. I even felt my eyes
shutting themselves, almost entirely…

…until I saw my parents, who apparently had waltzed into the entrance hall not too long ago
and were currently watching me being lovey-dovey with Al.

O-oh.

My mother looked as breathtakingly pretty and disheartening neutral as always, while my

father (also all dolled up, in a white and gold, almost blindingly-white and gold attire) looked
just as much as Hell’s top dog as he probably wanted to look like, all while maintaining a
cramped-up smile on his face. I noticed my mother held a vice-like grip on his arm, like she
feared he might do something inappropriate otherwise.

Do something inappropriate, hm?

Looking my dad dead in the eyes, I whispered to (an unsuspecting) Al if it was okay for me
to grope his elite backside.

Al let out a snort. “Oh my. How very polite of you to at least ask me beforehand.”

“Can I?” I wanted to know, still not even blinking as I kept my eyes locked on my dad’s,
practically daring him to try and stop me.
“Well, if you feel like you need – aaand you’re already doing it.” Al sighed as my hands went
for his ass, kneading his buns like their life depended on it. Most of the time, Al wasn’t really
impressed by my strange interest in his butt and he most likely felt a bit weird about the
whole… groping thing.

However, this time, there was an amused, slightly… different tune to his voice.

I let out a startled yelp as I felt his sharp fingers harshly grabbing hold of my neck, his lips
pressing a couple of open-mouthed, hot kisses to my throat. His teeth intentionally scraped
my skin, which made me shudder a little. O-oh god, I had expected a lot of things to happen –
but for some reason, Alastor promptly reciprocating my lustful innuendoes hadn’t been one
of them.

“Please don’t tease me too much, my love: as much as I’m indifferent to sex and all that has
something to do with it, I’m not indifferent to you – and you have no idea how close I indeed
was to defiling you, back in the car.”

Oh god oh god oh god.

Dad must have heard his heated whispers – crap, whispers or not, I think the entire hallway
had heard him, really – but much to my amazement, my father still didn’t move a muscle and
didn’t flip out, not even when Al (a tad too loudly) mumbled he couldn’t wait to pick my
dress and me apart later.

“A-Al,” I gasped, gulping and giggling a little, watching dad carefully. What did he look
like? Was he mad? Had I gone too far with my spiteful pestering?

But…

Now don’t get me wrong – I still thought very little of my sly father. He was a snake and a
violent idiot that only cared about what was good for him. He never even attempted to
broaden his horizons and it was clear to me that I didn’t have to expect him suddenly
changing his mind about my hotel and choice of lover.

However, having said that: the fact that he didn’t lose his shit upon seeing Alastor lewdly
coming on to me and didn’t attempt to immediately attack Alastor, even without my mother
needing to interfere or hold him back… well, that did impress me a bit. I therefore – as some
sort of ‘reward’ for my dad – mercifully pulled away from Al.

As I hastily informed (a significantly flustered) Alastor about my parents having arrived in

the entrance hall, I couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed. Trying to rile my dad up by
grabbing Al’s glorious butt right in front of him and expecting some sort of ruse out of him,
just to acertain my own expectations – god, how childish of me.

I wondered what kind of thoughts went around in my father’s maybe, possibly, somewhat
matured mind right now.

LLL
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHH—

“—OKAY THEN!”

Much to my satisfaction, both Charlotte and Maroon Mistake jolted a bit upon hearing my
thunderous, teensy enraged voice booming through the entrance hall. Smiling broadly (in
like fifty fucking different kinds and forms of hysterical), I took a few grandiose steps
towards them and bend my back like a switchblade, ignoring the simultaneous snapping
sound that came from it.

…ouch though.

When I looked up and straightened my hurt spine again, I, for whatever reason, had seen a
hint of newfound respect in my daughter’s eyes.

Huh.

I mean – ha HA!

Looks like those impromptu anger management exercises Lilith had lovingly forced me to do
right before Charlotte and Lamppost Reject entered the palace had not been a waste of time
after all!

My challenged, pumping heart did a headspin, backspin, sixstep, toprock and some other
obligatory breakdance-moves upon seeing Charlotte’s careful attention, and this – yes! – this
smelled like a very good chance to regain even more of her admiration!

Filled with hope, I opened my mouth again and stretched my arms wide open, as if I wanted
to cuddle them both: “Good evening! Please allow me and Queen Lilith to welcome you two
to my humble celebratory party, Charlotte and Plus-one! How nice of you to find some time
off your needlessly busy and useless schedule to visit your illegally-pretty mom and cool dad,
and how convenient you did not walk into any of my homemade pitfalls that I spend all
afternoon making! Time I’m never getting back! Never, people! I squandered it all! Ha ha!”

Crazily enough, some of that must have come out the wrong way, since I saw all that shaky,
unguarded respect collapse right in front of me as soon as I sneaked a peek at Charlotte again
and noted that her eyes had gotten hard and angry again.

I blinked, utterly confused. What the hell – what did I do this time, huh?

“Hello dad,” Charlotte said, spewing out the word ‘dad’ like it was something filthy.

“Good evening, Sire,” Alastrash nodded to me, a condescending smirk dancing on his lips as
he casually looped an arm around my daughter’s waist.

Fucking touchy-feely bastard. I wanted to smash the nearest spiky object into his stinking
fuckface and I had already reached for the halberd a harness was wielding (the look on
Crapastor’s mug was fucking priceless for that one split-second, let me tell you), but,
thankfully enough, before I pulled it away from the armor to strike him, I recalled Lilith’s
warning, inspirational words of a few hours earlier just in time…

“Now remember apple pie – trying to kill Alastor with no Charlie around to witness it is kind
of impossible if our daughter still happens to be in the exact same room. For it contradicts –
everything. So find the right moment to catch him on his own, and just calm yourself down
with soothing mental images of you bludgeoning Alastor to death if he happens to annoy you
while Charlie’s still nearby.”

I swallowed my rage and – just awkwardly pat the halberd.

“…there’s a good halberd.”

Charlotte’s ill-chosen lover simply looked on in puzzled silence.

He wasn’t the only one who was silent though – the entire hallway had gotten dead quiet!
Some gruesome silence that was – sure, there was still music going on in the Royal Hall, and
yeah, you could also hear all of the other guests and visitors babbling away in a very loud
volume from that one room, but in this room, the uncomfortable quietness was taking hold of
the otherwise festive ambiance and slowly turned it into awkwardness-pus.

Thank the seven layers of Hell I had Lilith with me, though!

“Hello Charlie, hello Alastor,” she said, gently (but insistently) pushing me out of the way,
obscuring my view on our two visitors with her immensely huge, yet also so very attractive
figure. “You both look very lovely and handsome tonight. Pink suits your pale complexion
well, sweetie.”

Stepping back, I looked up at my wife. The unnatural sound of her monotonous voice gave
away she was being extremely cautious with her words right now.
It worked, however, since Charlotte’s icy demeanor seemed to thaw – and even a small smile
broke free on her face.

“Hi mom. Thanks! You… look nice as well. Lots of… um, purple and black going on in your
outfit. But you can definitely handle it! That's a great gown you’re wearing!”

“Yes. What about my nails?” Lilith – happy to hear our daughter complimenting her – dryly
stuck out her clawlike hands, showing off the pointy, glittery edges of her fingertips. “I don’t
want to brag, but these nails are so dangerously stupendous, people almost died while
preparing them. What do you think?”

Charlotte chuckled. “They look cool! Don’t you think so too, Al?”

“They are very impressive indeed,” Alastupid agreed.

I grunted. Bluh bluh bluh dey are vewy impwessive indeed bluh bluh. Asshole.

“They truly are, aren’t they? I can slaughter masses with them now. Not that I'll do that. I just
am able to do so now. Anyway.” Lilith paused for a second, hesitating on how to continue.
“Perhaps you and I can make an appointment with my nail lady later, Charlie. So that she can
fix those sad, dull excuses for nails you have there, while we converse and bond
accordingly.”

Charlotte rolled with her eyes and a frown was about to appear on her forehead – but when
the Radio Dung next to her gave her an encouraging squeeze, she let out a soft sigh and
showed her mother another one of her nowadays rare smiles.

“Sure, mom. Why not.”

Oh! What a clever way of my wife to try and get Charlotte to leave me alone with one of the
biggest disasters that ever came down from the land of the living! I snickered and was about
to suggest she and Charlotte should go settle on a date right now – but then Lilith beckoned
both our offspring and our offspring’s current bedmate to walk to the other room with her,
where, as Lilith put it, ‘everyone was waiting for her’.

I couldn’t deny it: there was a mighty hard stab in my chest area when I watched Charlotte’s
pretty face light up like a small sun upon hearing that news. My child had always been a huge
fan of presents and surprises, and she loved it when people came over just for her (I mean,
that never happened). Over the moon, Charlotte latched herself onto her lover’s arm some
more, gleefully vocalizing her innocent excitement as she pulled him with her, following her
mother into the Royal Hall.

I stayed behind, profoundly baffled and wondering about what I should do next.

Also, if my eyes hadn’t deceived me, there was something amiss with that bony twig’s hand.
He kept – twitching it.

I should take a better look at that later, when I got the chance.
 AaA

After Charlie had stricken up yet another lively, yet incomprehensible and rather boring
conversation with a random guest (a sinner that had worms for hair this time, by the look of
it), I decided it was safe for me to let go of her for a bit and discreetly retreated myself to the
bar in the Royal Hall.

Mind you though: I wouldn’t wander away too far away from Charlie and I’d keep a careful
eye on my radiant princess brightening up the already illumined party hall at all times. This
was something Lilith had quietly yet urgently ordered me to do so a little while ago, and I
knew better than to question the demonic entity that had indirectly saved my life on an earlier
account. I hadn’t asked Her Highness why she thought I should stick close to Charlie, but my
guess was that Lucifer was up to something… and judging by the way he almost grabbed that
halberd in the entrance hall, it wasn’t something particularly nice.

Oh well. I didn’t feel too worried – not as long as Charlie was nearby and clearly having the
time of her life.

I sat back on the barstool and sighed contently as I looked around the packed room, filled to
the brim with people and other kinds of creatures laughing, dancing and having a grand old
time in the Royal Palace.

I snickered to myself: well, the King and Queen of Hell perhaps won’t ever win any Parents
Of The Year-awards, but my goodness, they sure can follow up instructions, if that’s what’s
needed for them to see their daughter make an appearance at their social gathering!

First of all, the castle’s decoration and the theme of the evening’s festivities. My tips and
tricks regarding these two important key elements had all been precisely executed, although I
had to admit everything was a bit too much and too tasteless to my liking. However, Charlie
herself had absolutely loved it, that sweet ray of sunshine – the way her alluring eyes
twinkled like the purest of diamonds after she had seen just what kind of palace she had
gotten herself into… the way she had looked at me upon realizing I had been the one behind
it, her overjoyed and thrilled face never looking more attractive and kissable to me…

Ah, but all in good time. All in good time...

Then, the invitees to the party. Not only had Lucifer and Lilith obediently asked the more…
overlooked, yet still very powerful overlords in Hell to come over to their party, they had also
refrained from inviting stuck-up, unworthy ghouls, demons and upper-class beings that had
always looked down on my charming princess. Instead, the King and Queen had replaced
these sinners with a lot more normal, common lowlifes – people Charlie would feel a lot
more comfortable to be around with. They sure came in handy: according to Angel Dust,
Niffty, and a few of the hotel’s other inhabitants, these ‘clients’ and ‘friends’ of theirs knew
how to throw a decent party and had a lot of ‘connections’, too.

Well, you know what they say: it never hurts to stay on friendly terms with people that had
'connections'.
Plus, these people – because they were acquaintances of the sinners that lived in the hotel – at
the very least treated Charlie with some level of reverence and admiration. They had all
heard about the strange hotel that strived to rehabilitate sinners and try to get them to Heaven,
especially now that word was on the streets more and more sinners’ appearances had started
to chance, ever since they had entered that very same hotel.

It had been a tough job, oh ho, no doubt about it… but it was very fulfilling to see that all of
my and the others’ efforts hadn’t been in vain… and seeing how much Charlie enjoyed being
the center of attention – in the most positive kind of way, for a change. She was used to
mocking words and getting laughed or even spit at – but now? Now here she was. She was
seen, she was listened to, she was important, she was brilliant, she was the most beautiful
angel in the entire world and all that was connected to it.

And all of that goodness – all of that pure, incorruptible goodness of hers – it was all mine.

Certainly, they could all stare at her as much as they wanted to, talk to her – heavens, they
could even dance with her, for all I cared. But at the end of the day, she’d come back to me. I
would be the one lucky bastard who was allowed to take her home and hold her for the rest of
the night, in spite of all my flaws and wrongdoings.

A feeling of bliss and genuine, earnest, simple happiness came over me as I watched Charlie
from a distance, as she laughed about something funny an imp was telling her.

Look at her.

Just look at her.

No matter how I put it or from whatever direction I let my eyes rest on her, all I could see
was the magnificent energy she sparked, her figure the very shape, tale and well-kept secret
of love itself.

Her glove’s sleeve had been sliding off her arm yet again and without looking at it, she
tugged it up again, way sloppier than it was meant to be pulled up. I’d have to roll it up for
her later again and then she’d look at me like that again, smile at me like that again, bite her
lip like that again…

My goodness, I loved her so much.

I loved Charlie so, so disgustingly much. I might even loved her more than I loved myself.

Oh.

Oh.

Did I, now?

“You promise you’ll tell me everything after the party?”

Her imploring voice, echoing in the back of my head, suddenly rose up from the depths of
my mind, ruthlessly smacking my love-struck expression until it turned a bit sour. With a
bitter, yet resigned laugh, I twisted the stool I sat on away from the view a bit further up
ahead, even as three large, imposing-looking figures made their way through the crowd to get
to Charlie.

I suppose that was a downside to loving her as much and as desperately as I did: I no longer
could keep things secret from her. Well – I could, but even when Charlie didn’t see through
my lies and smiles fast enough, it still left a nasty taste in my mouth. Whenever I had the
sheer guts to hide something from her, it – didn’t feel normal. Not anymore. And that
surprised me: I never had much trouble keeping secrets from others and telling them the most
outrageous things to keep them satisfied and happy.

But the more Charlie won me over and squeezed her way into my heart, the more she opened
my eyes. She made me realize that there was more to a relationship than just loving the other
person and believing that that would automatically undo and excuse every bad decision I had
ever made.

My hand stung again. Wincing, I stared at the cross on the back of it. It still didn’t look like
much, but these days, the cross was like a white-hot piece of metal that was constantly being
pushed down to my skin, marring me – punishing me. It wasn’t always as bad as it was right
now, fortunately enough – but it haunted me. It was a never-ending reminder that I had done
something I could no longer run away from. A curse, even.

Oh, but I regretted nothing. Absolutely not. Regretting what I had done and what I had
decided to do was like regretting letting myself fall in love with Charlie. Regretting letting
my heart beat for someone else. I did not regret that. I would never regret that.

But the curtains were starting to close themselves on my big scheme now. The clock was
ticking away; it was two minutes to twelve now.

Time was running out for me.

I’m not going to lie: it plagued me, needing to come clean to Charlie first and then watching
the brutal realization of my meddling behind her back dawn upon her perplexed face. The
mere thought alone shook and crushed me to my very core. I had come to know my charming
demon belle rather well these past… how long had it been since the first time I met her,
twelve months? A whole year already? And yet – and I said this many times already - I still
didn’t know all about her. I hadn’t seen all of her many sides yet. For example, I had no clue
on how she’d react to me confessing all of my plans and plots to her.

That agitated me, because if that course of action was the one to make me see even the
darkest, most unspeakable, unpleasant sides of my darling Charlie…

…would I even want to see it?

CcC

I had to pinch my own arm a few times before I was willing to believe it, and even then I felt
tempted to not believe it. Not entirely, at least!

But it was true. Uncle Gabe, uncle Raph and uncle Mike – my father’s brothers and three of
the most important Archangels Heaven had ever produced… they were here. They really
were here!

They had showed up all of a sudden, the – rightfully frightened – sinners around me
instinctively making room for the three divine beings marching towards me in a straight line.
I hadn’t really noticed them right away. I mean, sure, they were big, but there were more
large and impressive sinners dwelling around in Hell - it wasn’t exactly unusual to see
someone bigger than me waking around. But when the person I was happily chatting with
abruptly fell quiet and disappeared into the crowd, I knew something different was happening
here – and I finally took time to look up and gaze at the strangers that approached me.

Call it intuition, but I knew right away these three men were my uncles, even before they
introduced themselves to me. I could even hazard a guess as to tell who was who, based on
my father’s stories about them.

Uncle Michael was no-doubt the biggest and most robust-looking Archangel of the three of
them. He easily towered above my father, but even Alastor and my mother would have to
raise their heads a great deal to be able to look the Archangel in the eyes. Uncle Mike didn’t
smile – not a hint of a smile was on his face, even. Like he had… actually never even done it
before. There was a giant wrinkle cemented in his forehead, however, proving that this uncle
wasn’t only the polar opposite of my wimpy father in terms of impressive appearances, but in
terms of character as well. Uncle Mike was a stern, serious-looking man, with majestic,
pearly-white feathers attached to his back that probably had the wingspan of an enormous
albatross, if he’d stretch them all the way out.

Uncle Gabriel probably looked the most upbeat of the three of them. Appearing just a bit less
tall than uncle Mike, uncle Gabe did wear a smile, but it was an easy, nonchalant one. It was
a smile that didn’t look like it was permanently stapled into his face, like it was the case with
Alastor’s. He had the same round, red patterns on his cheeks my dad, uncle Mike and I had,
and he had the longest, most gorgeous hair of all three of them. It… gave him a fairly
feminine air – even though his built was quite lean and athletic, I noted the closer he got to
me. He was the only one to visibly greet me, one hand raised up high as he and the other two
came moved towards to me, his other hand pushed into the pocket (??) of his fancy robe.

And finally, the third and shortest of the three of them: uncle Raphael, most likely. He was
rather short and feeble in comparison to my other two uncles, but he was still much bigger
than me and dad – he probably had about the same height as my mother, if I had to take a
guess. Uncle Raph’s eyes were shut tightly and it didn’t seem like he could open them, either
– hence why I knew right away this man had to be ‘the blind one’, as my empathic father had
oh so very poetically called him once. He looked like the nicest out of all three Archangels
and he had the least violent aura hanging around him. Of course, that could also have
something to do to the fact he had almost walked into one of the few pillars in the room,
hadn’t uncle Gabe smoothly pulled him away from it just in time.
With my three Archangelic uncles coming closer and closer to me with every second, I
understood perfectly well why most of the sinners around them got a bit peevish and tried to
get away from them as far as possible. I swear – all the guests were all of a sudden all but
plastered to the walls of the Royal Hall, their frantic eyes keeping track of the unusual
invitees to the party.

Oh! Had they – had they come to this party for me as well?

Had Alastor somehow managed to arrange this as well?

I chuckled and quickly scanned to room, looking for Al. If he had been the one responsible
for making my uncles appear on my dad’s party, then he sure as heck was going to meet
them, too!

Soon enough, I spotted him, sitting at the (suddenly almost completely abandoned) bar. I
turned to my uncles.

“One – one second! I – god, I’m so thrilled to finally meet you – but one second! I need to
fetch someone – he’s probably responsible for this – just a sec!”

With my heart throbbing in my throat, I ran across the room to the bar, practically jumping
Alastor from behind.

“Al! Al – it’s my uncles! My uncles are here, Al – come and meet them! I want you to meet
them!” I kept tugging his arm, until he finally looked my way. “Come on Al, I need you to…
I need you… I…”

Wait - where was his smile?

I let go of his arm and felt my stomach make a weird twist.

Literally too worked up and out of breath to get the right words to come out – and too
dumbstruck by seeing Alastor’s unusual, dejected face, I started to gasp and pant a little. I
didn’t know what to do – too many emotions were currently fighting one another to take
control – and then Al suddenly burst into laughter, as he saw me struggling like that.

“Ha ha, don’t forget to breathe, now, Charlie! You need me, you say?” he said, his well-
known, plastic grin put back in place again within seconds, and he got off the stool. “Well
then, my love – let’s go back to the start, shall we? How can I help you, hmm?”

“M-my uncles,” I managed to wheeze, “come meet my uncles, Al.”

“I will,” he nodded, not even a bit surprised that my uncles were here in the first place and
thus confirming my suspicions he had played a role in their presence here.

“Okay – this way then,” I continued, taking his hand in mine. “Oh, and… and Al?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t worry yourself so much.”

 He stopped himself from replying and looked at me.

“It’ll be okay, Al.” I smiled softly at him and brought his hand to my face, kissing the scarred
back of it – still keeping my eyes glued to his at all times. “Everything will be okay, sweetie.”

Alastor was at a loss for words and began doing interesting impressions of a goldfish,
opening and closing his mouth as he grasped for anything to say. But I was alright with that.
While he kept fruitlessly trying to come up with a witty remark in response to those gentle
words of reassurance I had told to him, I simply pulled him along and walked back to where
my Heavenly uncles were.

“H-hello, uncle Mike, uncle Gabe, uncle Raph!” I laughed awkwardly as I approached the
three awaiting Archangels and squeezed Al’s hand, wordlessly asking him to please grand me
the courage and strength to have a normal conversation with the very first family members I
had ever met, outside of my parents. “I’m – I’m Charlie. Your niece. How are you?”

Chapter End Notes

When a wealthy widower remarries a proud and haughty woman, his daughter quickly
becomes the slave of not only her, but also her two own, evil daughters. The poor girl is
forced to do all kinds of the most dirty and humiliating chores – and instead of telling
her (incredibly oblivious) father, the girl bears the abuse without any complaints. She
doesn’t even mind that her stepfamily mockingly calls her ‘Cinderella’, because she’s
always covered in cinders.
One day, the prince invites unmarried young ladies all over the land to a Royal Ball.
Cinderella isn’t allowed to go and she breaks into tears. Her Fairy Godmother then
appears and helps Cinderella out by putting her in a breathtakingly gorgeous dress and
by transforming random things and rodents into a golden carriage, horses, coachmen and
footman. Cinderella also gets a pair of glass slippers. Before leaving, her Godmother
warns her: make sure to return before midnight; that’s when the spell will be broken.
For two nights, Cinderella goes to the Royal Ball and has the time of her life, as she
dances with the Prince. The girl has so much fun that on the second evening, she loses
track of time. When she finally realizes she needs to go, it’s already past midnight and
Cinderella flees, leaving behind a single glass slipper and a heartbroken Prince, who
vows to marry the girl who fits the slipper.
The Prince proceeds to try the slipper on all the women in his Kingdom, but nobody
seems to fit the little shoe… until he arrives at Cinderella’s home. After the stepsisters
have unsuccessfully tried to wring their fat feet into the little slipper, Cinderella gets her
chance to try it on… and of course, it fits perfectly. Fearing repercussions, Cinderella’s
stepfamily plead for forgiveness, and the girl forgives them. Cinderella and the Prince
get married and they live a happily ever after.

What a darling little story, right? Yes – THIS version (by Perrault) is very sweet and has
a nice ending… but the version of the Brothers Grimm is MUCH more horrific: in that
version, the stepsisters chop off pieces of their feet in order to fit them in the slipper (it
doesn’t work out). Also, Cinderella is a lot less forgiving in this version: when the
stepfamily shows up at her wedding, the sisters are pecked blind by the birds Cinderella
summons and the stepmother is forced to wear burning shoes and dance until she dies!
Whoa!
 Goldilocks and the Three Bears
Chapter Summary

Alastor and Charlie meet Charlie's Honorable Archangel Uncles.

Chapter Notes

Songs that are used in this chapter:

'Let Me Entertain You' by Robbie Williams
'Oops I Did It Again' by Britney Spears
'Praise You' by Fatboy Slim
'Rhythm Is A Dancer' by Snap!
'I Wanna Dance With Somebody' by Whitney Houston

See the end of the chapter for more notes

After the first bumbling, awkward introductions had been made, Charlie, the three
Archangels and I decided to move our conversation to the other side of the Royal Hall: that
way, the rest of the castle’s visitors could carry on with their nonsensical chattering,
gossiping and dancing, without having to be too wary of the… unconventional melting pot of
creatures standing in the middle of it all.

While the music and the laughter pleasantly buzzed around in the spacious room and the
ambiance got peppy and festive again, I took in the sight in front of me.

Because, well well well – there they were at last, in all of their fluttery, heavenly glory.

How had Bob called them again?

Mighty Michael, Righteous Gabriel and Wise Raphael.

Yes. Lucifer’s angelic brothers. The tree most-important Archangels Heaven had to offer –
and Charlie’s honorable uncles.

Now, if I recalled most of Bob’s secretly-channeled information about Heaven and Hell
correctly, Michael was supposed to be the eldest one of the Archangels, followed by Lucifer,
then Raphael, then Gabriel. Of course, these three brothers weren’t the only siblings Lucifer
had left behind in Paradise: according to Bob, good old loony Luci had many, many more
divine and powerful family members up in Heaven. Upon encouraging Bob to disclose more
of that heavenly lore to me, he had also told me a lot of fascinating facts and tidbits about the
Void, Archangels and their inherited powers in general and… nectar and ambrosia, for some
reason?

Oh well. I suppose it wasn't that unusual that the bland Angel wanted to rant about nectar and
ambrosia so badly: ever since he had come to the hotel and gotten a taste of my (amazing, if I
may say so) cooking, he had started to realize just how much good food he had been missing
out on for all these millennia. Therefore, the poor fellow probably needed to vent his
frustrations about the gruesomely boring meals in Heaven every once in a while. Something
like that.

I couldn’t care less about it: a heavenly phenomenon like unimaginative food wasn’t
important for me or my case anyway.

Michael, Gabriel and Raphael, however – now these heavenly phenomenons were important
for me and my case.

And it showed – good lord, the three Archangels were so awe-inspiring, pompous and
downright intense, my overbearing ego was almost silenced by them!

Almost. Let’s not push it, hmm?

AaA

Thankfully, I could hide my amazement rather well, as to be expected of me: I simply smiled
affably at the three blondes and stood up straight, inflating and expanding my chest with a
silent breath of air. Subsequently, I closely observed how the trio of Heavenly brethren
responded to both me and my darling Charlie.

As for their reactions to Charlie – well, I was no expert on emotions, not by far, but I could
tell (by the way they genuinely paid attention to their niece’s adorable rambling about how
utterly delighted she was to finally meet three of her one hundred estranged family members)
that they instantly took a liking to her, just like…

…well, just like everybody instantly took a liking to Charlie, the second people actually took
the time to go and have a friendly conversation with her. This had been old news to me
already – heavens, at this point, I was merely stating universally-known facts.

It was strangely heartwarming to witness: three of Paradise’s most dangerous and impressive
Archangels, nodding endearingly and patiently at everything Lucifer’s charming offspring
was nervously rattling on about and not even once trying to interrupt her as long as she was
talking about – whatever it was she was talking about. Raphael had a thrilled, pleased glow to
his pale face the entire time, Gabriel was smiling broadly as well and had to visibly withhold
himself from throwing his arms around his niece and Michael – well, he didn’t smile per se,
but his eyes had a warm and soft wetness to them that gave away how fuzzy he felt.

In all fairness, I found it very odd, seeing these powerful entities being this ridiculously
happy to meet Charlie. However, I was quick to remind myself that Charlie was, most likely,
the only blood-related family member outside of Heaven they had. Also, since their
rebellious brother Lucifer had been the sole sibling that had given in to sin and therefore
managed to produce a daughter in the form of Charlie, having her as their niece was the
closest thing to having a child of their own Michael, Raphael and Gabriel were ever going to
get.

Oh my. That was so…

Perfect.

In any case, as Charlie’s voice began to falter a bit – since my darling princess had ran out of
random topics to make cute remarks about – I could feel her uncles’ attention was starting to
drift over… to me. Although my poker-face hid all signs of any discomfort, a chill ran over
me nevertheless when their inspecting, judgmental eyes examined me thoroughly. They still
didn’t speak a word, and I had to say that they, like me, seemed to be fairly good at hiding
their emotions and feelings behind a veil of neutral interest – but I was no idiot.

They obviously weren’t too enthusiastic about what they saw.

“O-oh, I’m so sorry!” Charlie then said, breaking the slight tension that had been building up
in the relative short time she had been searching for something new to talk about, “I just –
keep going on and on, haha, and I’m totally forgetting that you – probably – well – wh-what I
want to say is – um, instead of letting me run my mouth and spout nonsense, is there anything
you would like to ask me, or tell me?”

“I do have a question for you, dear niece,” Michael spoke up right that instant, pointing a
large, angelic finger in my direction, “who is this smirking sinner you have showed up with?”

Raphael laughed and patted his brother’s buff arm, even if he almost hit Gabriel in the
process, first. “Now now, Mike! You are always so quick to jump to conclusions – who says
this person is a sinner? They could be a hell-spawn demon, too!”

“No, he is a sinner alright,” Michael said.

Gabriel nodded. “Oh yes. Definitely a sinner.”

“Well I’m glad we all agree on that,” I said, chuckling. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr.
Raphael, but yes: guilty as charged! I’m a sinner!”

Raphael raised his eyebrows. “Well I’ll be! So Luci’s sweet Charlemagne is in a romantic
relationship with a sinner man? Ha ha! How amusing! Looks like the apple does not fall too
far from the tree after all!”

While the shortest Archangel chortled (and the other two simply stared at him and me in
turns), Charlie and I reddened a bit. Neither one of us had said anything about us being in a
relationship of some sorts – and even though the obvious fact that she was holding on to me
would have given something away, Raphael’s eyes were shut. Tightly. The entire time. So
how did he notice?
“Uh…” Charlie stammered, feeling she had to say something. “W-well…”

Upon hearing our astonishment and unease, Raphael brusquely stopped laughing. “Oh,
pardon me for surprising you two like that. I have, say, a knack for sensing these kinds of
things, you see? I might not be able to see much – well I am not able to see anything, let us
be honest here, ha ha ha – but, you see, lovers give off an entirely different and unique aura,
in comparison to people who are merely friends or acquaintances to one another.”

“Is this correct?” Michael wanted to know, looking at Charlie now. “You are this sinner’s
lover?”

Gabriel grinned, folding his arms together. “If Raph says so, you know it is correct, Mike.
The man is the patronage for lovers, after all. He protects them.”

Michael grumbled, rolling his eyeballs around in their sockets. “Raphael could be the patron
saint for blind people for all I care.”

“Oh I am,” Raphael said.

“What?”

“As a matter of fact, I am also a patron saint for blind people, Mike. You forgot this
wonderfully ironic fact? Gasp! Shame on you!”

“Please do not literally say ‘gasp’ when gasping, Raphael.” The eldest Archangel groaned.
“And I am sorry for saying this, but if I tried to keep up with all the things and people we are
supposed to be patronages for, I would lose my mind and go insane.”

“That is no problem at all, dear brother… for I am a protector of the sick and insane as well!”

"Raphael I am so done with you."

As Michael and Raphael continued their weird little argument, Gabriel had scooted over to
me and Charlie until he was standing right next to me. I had barely sensed him coming closer
and his sudden close presence threw me off more than I’d like to admit. He didn’t touch me,
but he was uncomfortably close, and I couldn’t help but remove myself (and therefore Charlie
as well) further away from him.

“U-uhm,” Charlie muttered confusedly, as she shuffled around with me.

Gabriel didn’t seem to realize (or care about) my discontentment concerning the current
situation and beamed a big, brazen smile at me, obscurely gesturing over his shoulders, to his
brothers.

“You might think that those two have weird things and people to be Heavenly protectors of,
but guess what, sinner sir: I am a patronage of postmen, clerks, telecommunication workers,
stamp collectors – stamp collectors for crying out loud – and radio broadcasters.”

For a moment, I was stunned. Blinking my eyes, I repeated him: “…radio broadcasters, you
said?”
“That is right. Radio broadcasters, Alastor.” Gabriel’s dark, enlarged eyes, that were perfect,
but not necessarily kind replicas of Charlie’s, shone mysteriously as they locked on to me.
“That is your name, is it not? I heard… things about you. Never would have guessed you are
little Charleston’s actual lover though.”

Blood drained from my face upon me hearing the Archangel’s breezily-spoken words and it
was getting harder for me to keep my smile in place. He knew me? How? Was it because I
used to be a radio host when I was still alive, or was it because of…

…something or someone else?

“You heard about Alastor, uncle Gabe?” Charlie then asked, her hands gripping my arm and
unwittingly calming me down as she looked up at her uncle in curiosity. “Is it because he
used to work as a radio broadcaster of some sorts in his past life?”

Fear snagged me by the throat once more and I grinded my teeth, frustrated. So much for
calming down! Oh ho, my darling, lovely Charlie – what a miserably perfect timing for a
question I might not want you to hear the answer to, my love. Not yet, in any case – and
certainly not out of his mouth.

While both Michael and Raphael eventually ceased their bickering about their Heavenly
duties and came to stand with the rest of us again, Archangel Gabriel watched me carefully –
for an unsettling long amount of time. The nonchalant, easy smile on his face was one
hundred percent earnest though, and therefore absolutely, horribly puzzling to behold.

At long last, he let out a resigned breath.

“Let me put it this way: Alastor’s deeds have left quite the impression on me.”

Charlie didn’t say a word, but I felt her body tensing up and moving closer to me.

“What kind of deeds are we talking about here?” Michael’s gruff voice spoke up, sounding
annoyed. “You should have informed me about this sinner sooner, Gabriel – we had that talk
about improving our means of communication just this Saturday. Now I have to make it an
agenda item for the upcoming meeting again. But alright, pray tell: what kind of sinner is this
man?”

“Oh a terrible one!” Gabriel grinned. “I heard through the grapevine this guy was a vicious
serial killer when he was still a human man. Not even a righteous one, either, oh no no – he
killed innocent people whenever he was feeling bored or stressed out. And yes, I know: most
of the time, you can put part of the blame on a serial killer’s parents for having their child
turning out to be a cold-blooded murderer, but there is no record of any Freudian excuse in
this man’s history: both of his parents were perfectly nice people and they both ended up in
Heaven.”

I exhaled softly. Gabriel knew, but he hadn’t exposed me. Why hadn’t he, though?

Well, I needed to think about that later, as I was suddenly faced with a very disgruntled-
looking Michael.
“Is Gabriel right?” he asked me, his gaze all but piercing right through me. “Were you a
shameless serial killer in your past life who slaughtered others for your own sick amusement,
without having any justification to do so?”

Despite his fearsome, overwhelmingly disapproving appearance, Michael didn’t frighten me

in the slightest. Gabriel’s incomplete answer to Charlie’s question had given me a sudden
confidence boost and I smiled haughtily at the oldest Archangel.

“Of course, I could tell you that all of Mr. Gabriel’s accusations are nothing but tall stories,
but, truth be told, I didn’t end up in Hell because I was such an outstanding, thoughtful
human being, now did I? I fear all the rumors are true, Mr. Michael: I truly am a despicable
man! Even the possibilities I had to go to Heaven didn’t make me want to better myself – oh,
perish the very thought! But that’s alright! I’m feeling quite at home in Hell! As long as I
have what I need here, I’ll choose eternal damnation over your boring Paradise any day!”

Had I said such menacing, challenging words to his slightly younger and more murderous
brother, I would have been sure to ignite a furious, rabid reaction of some sorts – but Michael
wasn’t like Lucifer and calmly exchanged glances with Gabriel.

“Get a load of this piece of work.” The youngest brother snickered, empathically shaking his
head at Michael. “He is something, is he not?”

“Quite.” The big Archangel turned to Charlie, who had been remarkably quiet up till this
point. “Charlie?”

“Yes, uncle Mike?” Charlie asked.

“You heard this sinner’s… condescending speech just now, did you not?”

“I didn’t go anywhere, so yeah, I did.”

“You did. And yet, you do not seem to be appalled or disgusted by this man’s terrible past or
violations.”

“Well, I – kind of knew about his misdeeds already.”

“Are you telling me you are fine with his crimes? You do not mind?”

Charlie made a face and looked away from her uncle’s steel, questioning face for a moment.
My chest ached when I saw her like that and I wanted to comfort her, or at the very least
make her uncles aim their accusing, offhanded remarks to me, but then she raised her face
again, and Charlie’s firm, determined voice rang through the air again before I could intercept
the dialogue.

“I’m not saying I approve of Alastor’s misdeeds, because I don’t. I really don’t. Al has done
all kinds of despicable things. There’s nothing even remotely redeeming about all the terror
and pain he has caused – and Al knows very well I condemn the sins he committed while still
alive. However, there is more to him. There is much, much more. And I – I happen to love
him.”
It was a short and simple message – but it was enough to silence her uncles. It was also
enough to give my heart a sudden, overjoyed jolt of happiness and I was too late to stop
myself from leaning towards her and planting a thankful kiss to her temple. Charlie’s eyes
swiftly shot up to look at me – and a tiny smile curled around her lips. It was temping to kiss
her there as well, but in the end, I decided not to. Things were a bit too tense for frivolous
kisses at the moment.

When I looked back at her skeptical, Heavenly uncles, it was quite entertaining to see that
both Gabriel and Michael were now clearly having an internal struggle with what to do or
how to respond to all of this.

My oh my. I had to suppress a sarcastic scoff. How hilariously tragic: Come and take a look
at the pitiful Archangels, everyone! They were this close to creating a meaningful bond with
Charlie, and then they realized that their innocent, good-hearted niece is in love with an
unredeemable sinner like me. One of the foulest beings that had ever strolled into Hell.
Somebody who had deservedly lost all of his basic human rights.

Oh they probably wanted to support Charlie, regardless of her choice of romantic partner…
but these men’s own, larger-than-life feelings of justice, integrity and righteousness were
making it hard for them to simply ignore the stone-cold facts that laid in front of them. That
was unspeakable! That was insane!

So now what to do? Such a pickle they were in!

Ha! Well then! Let’s see how they were going to solve this complicated dilemma without
losing face or lying to themselves—

“Now now now,” Raphael’s jolly, relaxed utterances interrupted both my sadistic gloating
and his brothers’ brooding predicament, as he stepped in-between Gabriel and Michael and
tried to stand in front of me and Charlie. “I believe we can solve this silly dispute with no
more than four questions!”

The other Archangels, Charlie and I looked at him, not saying anything. Gabriel quietly
turned his sibling a bit further around though, so he could decently face the four of us and not
continue his tale to the wall he had been talking to.

Raphael wasn’t bothered by this at all and cracked the joints of his hands. “Alright, I take that
uncanny silence as a yes. Well! Allow me to question you, sinner man, so that we can all
move along and have some fun at this party – I, for one, am dying to have a little dance-off
with my favorite niece!”

Charlie let out an alleviated snort. “You only have one niece to begin with, uncle Raph.”

“Precisely! And I’m very frugal with that one niece!” the blind man said, grinning – before he
smacked both of his hands down on my shoulders and made me solidify on the spot. “Now!
Are you ready, sinner man?”

I could hardly answer – I was still processing that this strange, Heavenly being was casually
touching me. “I—”
“Question one! Roughly put, how long have you been in a romantic relationship with our
niece?”

“I – I suppose seven months or eight months? Something like that?”

“Question two: have you committed any murders ever since getting involved with our niece,
or do you still have any planned?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Question three: how did you redeem one of your human eyes?”

“I’m… not sure, in all honest—”

“Well I am sure. Because you did something good. You only get parts of your human body
back when you do something good. So you did something good, sinner man.
Congratulations!”

“…thank you?”

“Final question!” Raphael immediately stampeded through. “Do you care for, love and
respect our niece? Think fast!”

“Yes – yes to all of that.”

Raphael smiled at me – well it was a little off, but I dared to say he tried his best to smile in
my direction – and tapped against my cheek, like an affectionate grandfather would. I was too
perplexed and confused with everything that was going on to slap his hand away and just
watched the Archangel, speechless beyond any recognition.

“You are kinder than you think you are, young man.”

A few final pats to the face – and then he retracted his hand, moving right over to Charlie.
My lover was still standing next to me and, judging on the sniffing sounds she was making,
she was close to crying.

She shouldn’t cry on a night like this – and instinctively, I wanted to help her out, tell he she
didn’t need to shed tears for my sake. But then I decided that all of that pesky water
shimmering inside of my eyes had to go away, first.

“Thank you,” I heard Charlie stammer, while I slowly raised a hand and wiped one of my
eyes. “He needed someone to say that to him – someone other than me. Thank you, uncle
Raph. Thank you so much!”

Raphael’s boisterous laugh was heard once more. “It was my pleasure, Charlemagne! Just
stating the truth here, really. Now then – would you care to do a little dance with your dear
old blind uncle? I do not mean to brag, but believe me when I tell you people made a grave
mistake to not make me the Heavenly protector of Irish dance!”
“Oh my god.” Charlie burst out laughing. “Alright uncle Raph – you better… you better
show me then!”

A loving, tender squeeze to my hand – and then she was gone.

AaA

I didn’t hear or see that much after that for a little while – but when I was finally done with
getting rid of these annoying liquids leaking out of my eyes and took a gander around me, the
first thing I saw was Charlie, whirling around on the dance floor. Her cheeks were puffed up
and she barely managed to hold in her laughter as her uncle Raphael attempted to copy her
dance movements – but instead ended up doing an eccentric sort of chorography that mostly
looked like a violent, blunt stepdance.

Sinners dancing around them kept nervously jumping out of Raphael’s enthusiastic, stomping
way, but at least Charlie looked happy, much to my delight.

Feeling a huge burden lift off my chest, I leaned back against the wall behind me.

“Hey, sinner sir?”

Gabriel’s voice sounded like its owner was very close by – and indeed, when I looked up, I
noticed him. He was standing next to me, looking triumphant and satisfied, his arms folded
together. He didn’t glance my way.

“Yes?” I replied nevertheless.

“After Raphael has ended his unholy chicken dance with our niece, Mike will dance with
her,” the Archangel stated. He made a vague motion with his hand towards this eldest
brother, who was indeed impatiently pacing back and forth in front of us, watching Raphael
and Charlie with the utmost concentration.

After a moment of hesitance, I let out a faint chuckle. “Naturally, by all means.”

“And then I will dance with her,” Gabriel now did glance at me. “Perhaps we will dance
more dances with her. Perhaps we will even break out in a massive group dance and dazzle
the whole audience with our otherworldly rhythm, making all of these sinners pray for mercy
(which they will not get, naturally). And yes, I know that you might think it is annoying that
we will hog Charleston for ourselves instead of letting you dance with her. She – is very
important to you, after all. Which we all appreciate. Very much. However, I think Mike, Raph
and I deserve at least that much of her time, would you not agree? For all of our troubles. For
all that has not been said, but could have been said. Should have been said.”

I smiled. “I’m well-aware of that.”

“Good.”

“Also, I… suppose I should offer you my gratitude. For keeping quiet about Bob.”
The long-haired Archangel frowned. “Do I know a Bob?’

“Oh ho ho, please, don’t pay my wacky words any mind! We simply happen to have a new
tenant in the hotel who goes by that name. He’s a bit different from the rest of us.”

“I see,” Gabriel said. And then again, after a short pause: “…I see. I should have known.”

The Archangel and I both fell quiet after that. It wasn’t an awkward or unpleasant sort of
quietness, though – it was a quietness that let me know that, at least for now, there was a
mutual understanding between me and Charlie’s uncles. An odd, vulnerable, but very
important and special kind of peace that neither one of us wanted to put down to the test.

There was a storm brewing right now, and I happened to be caught up in the center of it. And
although it’s common knowledge that being trapped in the eye of the hurricane means that
you’re being surrounded by the strongest and the most dangerous winds, it also means that, at
least for the time being, you’re in the calmest and safest part of the storm. Where nothing
destructible happened and everything was alright.

As long as you stayed in the center of it.

As long as I stayed in the center of it.

But I couldn’t stay in the center of it.

Not forever.

Ahh, but enough of this. I should get moving already! As long as Charlie was dancing with
her overbearing uncles, there were so many sinners, demons and other kinds of possibly
important creatures that were in need of my attention, so many living and breathing things to
forcefully mingle with! And I had to make sure to not wander off too far from Charlie’s
protective bubble while engaging in these conversations, too!

Better get down to business.

CcC

I really had a blast dancing with my uncles!

Uncle Raph, the very first uncle I danced with, was probably the sole living being I had ever
met who, somehow, made it possible to interpret the song ‘Let Me Entertain You’ and ‘Oops
I Did It Again’ as a full-fledged, legit tap dance songs. He grabbed my hand, laughed and
energetically hopped around on these hits with me, with everything he got. The sharp, almost
aggressive thwacks of his hard shoes on the wooden floor snapped through the room, and
while most of mom and dad’s guests were still very much on guard during this period of time,
I could swear I saw some grin and point at uncle Raph’s crazy moves.
I wasn’t really dancing with him as I was trying my best to keep my toes from getting
squashed by uncle Raph’s killer feet, but I still had a lot of fun while doing it!

When uncle Raph got lost in the music (and also in the crowd that had started to gather
around us), uncle Mike was quick to take in his place and sternly, yet not-impolitely asked
me to dance a foxtrot with him. Before I could tell him we probably should wait for a better
foxtrot-song than ‘Praise You’, he had already taken my hand, assumed the dance position
and started mowing the two of us right through the ever-expanding sea of sinners and demons
on the dance floor. It was hard to keep up with him – partly because uncle Mike danced like
he was walking a military march and partly because I could hardly keep up with him, but
mostly because I kept cracking up over the ridiculous scene we must have caused: one giant
of an Archangel, mercilessly and earnestly trampling around the Royal Hall as he dragged his
way smaller, helpless niece around like she wasn’t even freaking there.

To be honest – like uncle Raph, uncle Mike had absolutely no feeling for music or dancing
whatsoever, but he made it up with sheer, raw determination to make it work, one way or
another.

Eventually, uncle Gabe ‘saved’ me from his brother by smoothly convincing him to twist and
twirl me away from him – and make me switch places with the female sinner uncle Gabe had
been dancing with. Uncle Mike had been too focused to notice the change and kept forging
on, resolutely disappearing into the dancing and hustling crowd. Speaking about the crowd –
it had been growing more and more comfortable with the Archangels’ presence and, much to
my contentment, nobody seemed too scared of them anymore.

While ‘Rhythm Is A Dancer’ boomed through the Royal Hall’s speakers, uncle Gabe didn’t
even try to hide how happy he was he could finally dance with me and bragged loudly about
his hidden talent for dancing.

“Sure, uncle Gabe,” I skeptically grinned, nodding my head into the direction of both uncle
Raph (who at some point had begun a strange dance-off with a potted plant) and uncle Mike
(who still hadn’t noticed the terrified lady in his arms wasn’t me).

Uncle Gabe clacked his tongue and shook his head suavely – before grabbing my hand and
letting me do a full, stylish pirouette, dramatically catching me back in his arms afterwards.
Needless to say, I was very much impressed with this clean, swift movements and stared up at
him in amazement.

“Ha!” he theatrically said, flashing his white, sharp teeth at me as his long hair fluttered in
the non-existent wind. “Surprised? You think your annoying father was the only one in our
dysfunctional family that knew how to dance? Incorrect, my dear Charleston, for I have some
mighty fine dance moves, too! And for the love of my good Father and all the stars that are
twinkling in the nightly sky, you will observe them and be profoundly awed by them!”

“O-okay!” I stammered, getting more and more excited to dance with him the more he
boasted about it. “Okay – I believe you!”

“As you should! Now, my lovely niece…” Uncle Gabe grabbed my hands, pulled me to his
side and stared off into the distance, his face a perfect picture of seriousness and calm
fearlessness, “…let us polka.”

…polka?

CcC

Like I said, I really had a blast dancing with my uncles, and even uncle Gabe’s ridiculous,
jumpy polka dancing (which involved a lot of high-kicks, skipping steps and very slow and
awkward twirls and turns) was something I had a lot of fun with. I hadn’t know how to polka
dance yet – and as arrogant as uncle Gabe sounded, he was a wonderful, encouraging teacher
when it was about… well, polka dancing. Also, yeah, he really was great at it!

…just at polka dancing, though.

Which was nice, but…

I wanted to actually dance with somebody already, you know? I wanted to feel the thrill of
dancing around with somebody who could dance, somebody who knew the way I moved,
somebody who’s way of swaying to the music I knew! Somebody who could make me feel
the beat of the music and make me want to feel that delicious heat of another body close to
mine, touching mine, joining mine, adjusting itself to the tempo of whatever dance we
performed!

Yes, I wanted to dance with somebody – with somebody who loved me.

Where was Al?

I had kept half an eye on Alastor while my uncles ‘danced’ with me – I had left Al in a pretty
vulnerable state, after all. He had been shaken up by my uncle’s surprising kindness towards
him – kindness he definitely hadn’t seen coming – and since I knew Alastor didn’t like to
show weakness in public (or me making a big fuss about it), I had decided to not pay too
much attention to his tears and let my uncles dance with me to their heart’s content instead.

As I bounced around with uncle Raph, I noticed Alastor had recollected himself faster than I
thought he would. After talking to my other two uncles for a bit, Al had suddenly walked off
and approached other, unknown sinners and demons. I wasn’t sure what he was discussing
with them, but I knew his animated body language well enough to know he was being
extremely vigorous and fanatical about something, as he spoke with my parents’ visitors. As
per usual, most people he talked to eyed him anxiously, not sure what to do with this strange,
outlandish overlord that had (abruptly!) demanded their attention. But other than being
intimidating, touchy-feely and hyperactive in his manners, Alastor also was charming and
engaging to talk with, and I could tell that sinners, demons and overlords alike didn’t mind
listening to his passionate words.
 That was Al alright, I found myself thinking with an affectionate smile, as my uncles kept
attempting to do something that looked like dancing with me. No matter how creepy Alastor
could be and how unpredictable he was, people couldn’t help but being attracted to his
personality and liveliness anyway.

I knew I was.

However, now that my uncles had (finally) stopped paying attention to me and I had
successfully sneaked away from them, it had come to my attention that I hadn’t seen Al or his
handsome ponytail in quite a while now. Which was – unusual. And it didn’t feel right,
either. In fact, it worried me.

With a concerned frown plastered in-between my eyes, I wandered over to the side of the
dancefloor, settled down on a chair and took another long, good look around me. Some
sinners greeted me as they passed me by and I replied to them with a stiff smile, while my
heart’s beating was getting faster and more uptight with every minute that passed.

Where was he?

Chapter End Notes

Three bears – a huge one, a middle-sized one and a little one – live together in a wooden
cottage in the forest. The bears are all kind, good-natured and hospitable animals and
they all have their own bowl, chair and bed. It’s all very cute.
One day, the bears make porridge for breakfast, but the gruel is too hot for them to eat
right away. So they decide to take a walk, first. While they are away, a small girl named
Goldilocks approaches the cabin. She’s a pretty, but unruly girl – and she sneaks into the
house, looking for something to eat. She sees the porridge and furniture and proceeds to
firstly eat the little bear’s porridge and break the little bear’s chair, before settling in the
little bear’s bed for a nice little nap. She is pretty damn rude, really.
Soon after, the bears return home and discover right away that somebody’s been messing
with their stuff. They all comment on how their porridge has been partly or completely
eaten and the little bear is very sad to see his broken chair. They continue their quest to
find the person responsible for all this discomfort, and they find Goldilocks, snoring
away in the little bear’s bed (the little bear REALLY isn’t happy with her at this point).
They wake the girl up and confront her with her misbehavior.
Goldilocks understands their anger and says she’s sorry, promising to be a good child
from now on.

The English writer Joseph Cundall (1818-1895) took this story’s original version of
fellow Englishman Robert Southey (1774-1843) and made some changes to it: the old
woman trespassing the bear’s home changed into a pretty little girl and the old woman’s
grim fate near the end of the story (some versions even have her getting impaled upon a
graveyard’s steeple!) got a lot more pleasant and moralistic.
 The Indian Water Lilies
Chapter Summary

Alastor and Charlie have fun and dance to their heart's content at Lucifer's party.

Chapter Notes

Songs that are used in this chapter:

'Macarena' by Los Del Rio
'When You're Looking Like That' by Westlife
'Freed From Desire' by GALA
'Mambo No. 5' by Lou Bega
'Gaia' by Valensia
'There She Goes' by The La's
'Your Woman' by White Town
'(Mucho Mambo) Sway' by Shaft
'Bailamos' by Enrique Iglesias
'Sleeping Satellite' by Tasmin Archer
'Iris' by the Goo Goo Dolls

See the end of the chapter for more notes

After ten nerve-wrecking minutes had passed, I almost couldn’t take it anymore. You should
have seen my poor gloves – they had been twisted and tugged at so much that the opening to
my right hand’s pointer finger had gotten all stretched out.

Should I do something? Should I – try and look for him?

But I would never manage to find Alastor in a hall as big and crowded as the Royal Hall was
– there were partying people swarming all over the place, and the loud, nineties music
attacking my senses and mindset wasn’t helping making things any easier either. Also,
usually, I’d give people I wanted to contact or find a call, but I couldn’t give Al a call,
because, of course, Al didn’t own a freaking cellphone.

Besides, I most of the time didn’t need to contact Alastor, because he somehow was always
nearby anyway.

Maybe that was why his sudden clear absence was so unnerving to me. It just – never
happened. It felt unnatural.
Okay – okay. You know what? I’d wait… five more minutes. Yes. Five more minutes, and
then I’d get up and start looking for him. I didn’t want to bother my uncles (they were having
such a good time dancing right now), so I’d probably go to mom, first, and ask her to help me
out with searching for Al. I could ask dad to help me out, too, but I don’t know… something
told me I should stay clear of my father. Could be the murderous vibes I caught whenever
Alastor was around or even mentioned in his presence. Yeah… yeah, most definitely the
murderous vibes.

Wait a minute, speaking of my father – where was he?

My stomach turned around when I realized I hadn’t seen dad in quite a while, either. That –
that could be a mere coincidence, of course… but this was a bit too coincidental to my liking.

Oh god, no. He… had he done something to Al? Had he been behind his sudden
disappearance? Had he—

“Good evening, my fair lady!”

Both me and the chair I was sitting on almost tipped over when Alastor all of a sudden
showed up, right in front of me, his usual, huge grin spread over his face.

“How nice to finally catch you all by yourself, my beautiful darling! Good to see your uncles
finally let you go off the hook, ha ha!”

Relief washed over me and my nerves instantaneously calmed down. I stared up at him,
clutching my chest.

“Al, thank god – there you are! Where… where have you been? Are you alright? I was about
to look for you, I – I thought something… had happened!”

Without actually changing his facial appearance, Alastor gave me a genuine, puzzled look,
raising one eyebrow up high.

“You… thought something had happened? To me?”

I started to fidget with my glove again. “Uhm…”

Al smiled and curved towards me, his face nearly touching mine. “Ah, don’t fret, my love –
nothing happened! I was merely mingling with all of your parents’ many colorful visitors and
guests here. Such… fascinating creatures, truly. I’m sorry for worrying you, but please
understand, my dear, I had to occupy myself somehow during the time your three meddling
uncles selfishly kept you away from me…”

Before I could respond to that, a loud shout interrupted our conversation:

“Alright, dear brethren – from the top! Here we go!”

Uncle Gabe’s sharp voice reverberating through the Royal Hall made both me and Al look at
the dance floor. I let out a snorting chuckle upon seeing all three of my uncles awkwardly, yet
wholeheartedly dancing to the infamous Macarena-song. The cheering and applauding
collection of sinners and demons surrounding them had apparently gotten so used to my
Heavenly uncles being here and not trying to kill them, that they actively helped the three
Archangels with executing the right dance moves.

Furthermore, the fancy-looking woman who uncle Mike had been dancing with had, by the
looks of it, gotten over her intentional fear of him as well – and she now couldn’t get her
hands off of him.

“My my – setting your sights on an actual Archangel now, aren’t you?” Alastor muttered, and
slowly shook his head at the sight of it. “That silly Mimzy – I always knew she had a
downright impossible taste in men.”

I blinked rapidly and squinted my eyes at the short and chubby, yet still quite attractive lady
making heart eyes at uncle Mike (who was too caught up in rotating his hips the right way to
notice her). “That’s your Mimzy? Your friend, I mean?”

Al looked back at me, wearing a half-embarrassed, half-endeared smile. “That’s my Mimzy,

yes.”

“Oh, okay. She seems nice! Maybe a little bit pushy, but… nice enough!” I leaned forwards,
putting my elbow up on my bent knee. “You’ve known her for a long time, Al?”

“Why, certainly! I met her many, many years ago, when the both of us were still alive and
kicking!” he said.

I smiled. “You were friends back then, too?”

“Oh ho ho, oh no, my dear. No – she was my stalker and I killed her! Quite gruesomely, too!”

I gave Alastor a bewildered look, before uttering a soft: “O-oh.”

He saw my shocked face and shut up for a few seconds, his smile minimizing and losing that
arrogant, proud shine it had when he had called Mimzy his friend earlier. Unsure what else to
do, Alastor just stood there, next to my chair, and put his arms on his back. Eventually, he
looked away from me.

“Shouldn’t I have told you?”

“No! I mean, yes!” I snapped out of my daze and instinctively took hold of his waist coat’s
hem, as if I was afraid he’d walk away from me if I didn’t. “It’s good you told me! It’s a sign
that you trust me enough to tell me these kinds of things, and – and I appreciate that.”

Al still didn’t look at me and kept his eyes on the dancing masse in front of us.

“It still upset you, though.”

I sighed and combed through my hair. “Well, yeah? Can you really blame me, Al? I mean,
sure, I knew you did a lot of bad things when you were alive, so hearing this shouldn’t
disturb me anymore, or… or at least not that much, but…”
“But?”

“But you’ve changed, Al.”

Upon hearing that, Alastor finally let his clashing eyes meet mine. I had gotten used to them
looking the way they did: one brown of color, one red. One demonic, one humane. Which
one was which? I didn’t know anymore. Nonetheless, they both were valid parts of one
whole.

I couldn’t make anything of the expression Alastor was making with these strange eyes of
his, except for it ensuring me that he was listening to me intently.

I quietly looked up at him from my chair – one second, two seconds, still holding on to his
waist coat.

“You’ve changed. You know you have. You’re not as rotten or as unsympathetic as you were
when I first met you. So whenever I’m suddenly reminded that you brutally killed people –
like during my uncles’ interrogation or when you told me about you and Mimzy just now –
it… kind of rattles me, since that doesn’t really sound like you anymore. Knowing that that is
also still you, even if it’s the old you, won’t drive me away: you know that I’ve accepted that
bloody side of yours a long time ago. But – it does make me contemplate about stuff every
once in a while. Know… know what I mean?”

“Oh yes, I do. Very much so.” His smile got more earnest again, more open. He seemed
relieved. “I’m glad you’re honest about your feelings with me, Charlie. Even the conflicting
ones.”

“I love you, you know?” I lowered my head and clenched the fabric of his waistcoat even
tighter in-between my fingers. “I love all of you.”

There was no immediate reaction to this mumbled statement of mine. In the background, I
could hear that the Macarena-song was finally coming to a close. Soon enough, one of the –
no doubt funniest – highlights of the evening would come to an end. I bit my lower lip.

“Sweetheart?” Al then said, his voice strangely strained.

“Yeah?” I replied.

I felt rather than saw him moving closer and moments later, his shadow fell on me. My hand
dropped from his clothing.

“You should know better than to mindlessly tug on my heartstrings like that, out of the blue.
You leave me no other choice now.” Alastor hooked a finger underneath my chin and lifted it
up, making me face him. “I have to kiss you, my pretty angel. You know what that means,
don’t you?”

I momentarily tore my eyes away from him and glanced over his shoulder, to the crowd
behind him. Now that the song was officially over, most of the visitors were casually bopping
along on the rhythm of the music of the next song that had started to blare out of the room’s
speakers. Nevertheless, a fair amount of the sinners and demons in the hall had gotten wind
of us. Some of them were left open-mouthed as they observed us, waiting with bated breaths
what was going on between the Radio Demon and the Princess of Hell.

I looked back at Al again and nodded a little.

“Yeah, I know what that means.”

“You don’t mind?”

“They were bound to find out about us anyway.” I tilted my head up and closed my eyes. “Go
- go ahead, Al.”

Barely had I spoken out his name, or he pressed his lips to mine. Meeting no resistance, Al
calmly invaded my mouth, intensifying his kiss and making my jittery heart flutter up. His
large hands slid around my neck carefully, his fingers massaged my jawline and cheeks,
caressing my face and keeping it perfectly in place as he all but drank me, gobbled me all up.
Shuddering, I raised my unsteady arms up high and reached out to him, slithering them
behind his back and clasping the fabric of his waistcoat tightly in-between my fists. I could
feel two of the chair’s back legs lift up from the floor as I pulled myself flush against Al and
continued moving my mouth to his in the same slow, enticing tempo he had decided for our
sensual kiss.

When eventually he removed his lips from mine – and gingerly pushed my chair back down
to the floor, before it’d slip and topple over – he grinned broadly, happily, wheezing a little as
he brushed a thumb over my reddened lips. He didn’t say anything and neither did I – I was
too busy panting and beaming at him, affectionately rubbing my hands over his back.

At a certain point, however, a new song broke through our private bubble. I recognized it – it
was ‘When You’re Looking Like That’, yet another clichéd nineties song – and upon hearing
the first sentences of this incredibly cheesy, sickeningly gushy number, Alastor let go of me
completely and backed off a little. He regained his composure, cleared his throat and hastily
fixed his ponytail – and let me tell you, watching all of that was pretty adorable – and then,
he made a small, gallant bow for me.

“Now, my lovely Charlie. You had to wait for it for quite a while, and so did I, but…”

My already flushed cheeks blushed even more heavily when I saw he raised his hand, twisted
it around and offered it to me.

“…may I have this dance?”

I didn’t even see all of the guests’ intrusive stares or the familiar, foreboding dark clouds
packing themselves together above a certain person in the Royal Hall – all I could see was Al
and the hand he held up to me. Delighted, I sat up some more and let my hand glide into his,
smiling warmly at Alastor as his hand enclosed itself around mine.

“This and every other dance.”

 III

Oh, bother.

Much to my dismay, there was a fair bit of ruckus going on in the Royal Hall after… all that.

I could hardly even hear the melody of the current song (something with ‘free’ and ‘desire’ in
its title, I believe), which was a shame: I found it to be terribly charming. Was this song an
example of a musical hit that young people found ‘in’ these days? Well in that case, I was
happy that I heard it. Fads blew over so fast, so I was delighted to at least be at the beginning
of a new one now.

Ah, but yes. Never mind the music – I was musing about the current unrest in the hall.

I had fruitlessly hoped that the chaos would lessen as soon as Alastor and Charlie had
finished essentially humping each other in public and made their way over to the dance floor.
It did lessen, in all fairness – but bit by bit, very gradually. It was oh so annoying: for the
longest time, I could only hear the buzzing voices of sinners, demons and overlords alike,
aggressively gossiping to one other about what outrageous scene had just taken place in front
of them:

“Did you see that? Hey, hey – did you see that?”

“Holy fucking shit, dude!”

“I would appreciate it if you would kindly unhand me, miss sinner lady.”

“What the crap is going on?”

“It is just very inappropriate is all.”

“Has the princess been fucking the Radio Demon? You know, that Radio Demon?”

“No, I do not need the key to your hotel door. Why would I need the key to your hotel door?”

“I heard some rumors about them being an item but damn, I never thought it was actually
true…”

“But good madam, I have a bed of my own!”

I sighed, tapped my chin with an elegant finger and stopped listening to the continuous
stream of excited rumors and confused murmurs circling around the Royal Hall’s dance floor.
It clearly had been too long since the last time something exciting had occurred in Hell…

Oh, well. Taking everything in consideration, I suppose it was nothing but normal they all
would rattle on about that cute little stunt Alastor and Charlie had pulled off. Of course, they
could have simply officially announced that they were romantically involved with one
another, but blatantly making out at a Royal party with an extremely omnifarious public most
certainly did the trick as well. It perhaps did the trick even better, I had to say.

Lost in thought and consciously keeping myself from looking at Luci next to me, my heavy
eyes followed the smooth, fluid movements of the couple’s enthusiastic cha-cha-dancing,
soaring over on the dance floor. It was adorably obvious that this wasn’t the first time the two
of them danced together. Their eager bodies were too well-adjusted to one another, their feet
knew exactly what to do and their radiant faces displayed how much both Alastor and Charlie
enjoyed dancing with their partner. They allowed the rest of the room to bear witness to their
love and affections for one another without giving it a second thought, without holding
anything back.

Needless to say, they were quite captivating to watch. Or… what was that word?
Wholesome? Yes. Wholesome.

My daughter had been in love many times before – long before Alastor or his parents had
even been as much as mere concepts. Ever since Luci’s Dad-knows-how-much-time-ago, our
Charlie had always foolishly chased after love like it was a necessity, a requirement to even
be alive. Our sweet apple beignet was nothing but an unfortunate slave of her own heart –
and every time she had been convinced she had found ‘the right one’ for her, oh, how hard,
unforgiving and brutal the downfall was, when her lover didn’t turn out to be all that
wonderful after all. But it never let her down. No matter how many girl- and boyfriends had
played with her feelings and ditched her the moment things turned serious or sour, Charlie
never stopped believing in and looking for love… and finding it at the weirdest places and/or
in the most unorthodox figures.

I had liked for Charlie to find a partner that suited her. Somebody just as idealistic, passionate
and strong-willed as she was. Somebody that, kind of like her, accidentally came to exist in
Hell, by a cruel twist of fate.

Never had I believed she’d ever find them.

Hell was a harsh, depressing place. I had dwelled in this hopeless pit of fire and doom long
enough to confidently claim that Hell just wasn’t a part in this universe you’d like to call
‘home’. Staying down here for too long… it eventually corrupted people. For example, even
in the few cases Charlie had actually brought home a soul that was relatively nice and good-
natured, it had only been a matter of time before they, too, got consumed by hate, despair and
greed, and ended up hurting my poor daughter in the end.

I always felt bad for Charlie when that happened, but I couldn’t blame the sinners. They
couldn’t help it. This was simply something Hell did to them. Hell was a foul punishment of
God. It was nothing but a hole where the scum of the earth didn’t only lose all of their
remaining hope, but every shred of their humanity as well.

Now I didn’t want to say that Alastor was the most bizarre lover Charlie had ever chosen (my
darling girl had dated far too many bullshit trash-persons for that), but he most definitely was
a pick I hadn’t seen coming. He was a vile, violent, touch-repulsed serial killer – seemingly
the complete opposite of what she was. The Radio Demon had slaughtered many, both in life
as well as in death, and he had been way beyond redemption before even setting a single step
in Hell.

He also was a liar, a manipulator and a fraud.

So, no. I wasn’t convinced Alastor was ‘the right one’ for her.

However, it was at times like these – when I saw him dancing with my daughter, gazing
lovingly at her, holding her in his arms in a way that left nothing to one’s imagination – it was
at times like these that I knew that I had made the right call protecting him from my
endearingly murderous husband.

Alastor might not be ‘the right one’ for Charlie.

But he could simply be ‘the one’ for her.

III

Right – I had to face my darling husband at some moment… might as well let that moment be
right now. Who knows, perhaps I was able to soothe his no-doubt raging thoughts by feeling
him up a little and convince him to fetch me a cocktail drink. I could go for a Vesper. I’d kill
for a Vesper.

So I looked over to him, my lips parting as I was thinking of what to say to him. I still wasn’t
sure what. What could I possibly tell Lucifer to keep him from developing even more hostile
feelings towards our daughter’s dapper dance partner? What kind of dreaded, unfathomable
hate was roaming free inside his boisterous brains right now? What foul, evil things would
leave his kissable mouth, the moment he found a chance to say anything at all?

“What a lovely evening,” Lucifer jovially announced.

I stared at him, baffled.

Upon closer inspection, my husband seemed to be – perfectly fine, actually? I could have
sworn he had been seething with rage for a while now, but no, here he was, whistling and
nodding his head to the beat of the music just a little, and he glanced up at me, his big, shiny
teeth flashing a bright smile at me.

“This party be booming, Lili!”

I let my eyes rest on my tiny, positively puny partner and batted my eyes at him so frantically
that I feared my lashes would fall off.

“Yes,” I eventually replied, “this party of yours seems to be a big success, apple pie. The
music is fine, the drinks are great and there is a very easy-going ambiance all together – a
whole new experience to me, really, but it’s not bad, it’s not bad at all, even. Also, your three
brothers seem to be having the grandest time of their lives, performing some earthy dancing
rites with that group of morally-questionable degenerates and Hell-spawns over there. How
endearing. There is a good chance they might end up cursed or tainted forever after this
evening – but it’s still very endearing.”

Lucifer threw his head back and laughed. “Don’t worry! My disgustingly perfect brothers
need a whole lot more than some stupid human sacrificial dancing to end up cursed, my
seductive, beautiful batwoman! What’s most important is that they are having a blast! This
probably is the best fucking party they’ve ever been to! Right? Wouldn’t you agree that this
party is like that, Lili?”

Lucifer almost hopped side to side in excitement as he looked up at me and grinned, his
already red cheeks reddening even more.

I didn’t get this sudden change in his demeanor.

But I didn’t mind. I now didn’t have to waste some of my precious time on calming him
down after all, and for that, I was grateful.

So I smiled a rare, pleased smile at Hell’s most attractive ruler and lowered myself a tiny bit,
slowly dragging a teasing finger over his handsome, white and facial features. Lucifer let me,
blinking confusedly at me. Ugh. That oval, puppet-like face of his… he was just so cute.

I still hesitated a little about voicing my next comment out loud – but since he looked more
stable (or should I say, resigned?) than I had seen in a while now, I decided to take my
chances.

“Charlie seems to be having fun, too.”

For a split-second, there was a dark hint of… something, crackling through his smiling face.
But then it was gone again and Luci took my hand from his cheek, pressing a firm kiss atop
of it.

“She really does, doesn’t she?”

“Mhm-mhm.” I watched him enthusiastically slobbering all over my hand. “You seem okay
with all of this.”

Lucifer planted a last wet kiss to my hand and raised his head again, sniggering. “I am!”

“You are?”

“You bet your bouncy, big and beautiful butt-cheeks I am!”

I wiped my now-drenched hand off on the dress of a female sinner standing next to me.

“Why is that?”

“Hmm?”

“Your pitfalls didn’t work. That assassin you hired – who stupidly plunged into one of said
pitfalls – didn’t succeed, either. Charlie hasn’t talked a lot to you ever since greeting us in the
entrance hall and you just watched her make out with the sole sinner in this entire room
you’d like to see burn for eternity. In public.”

“Ayup.”

“You’re okay with all of that?”

“That's right.”

“By why? You—”

“Well shit, you sound a bit hoarse, my huge, pulchritudinous Demoness of Fate and Sexy-
Times! Did you sing along with these fucking dumb ceremonial songs a bit too much this
evening?” Lucifer abruptly said, letting out a short, maniacal laugh. “We can’t have that now!
Can your unworthy bastard of a husband get you something to drink?”

“Well.” Once again, I rolled my eyes. “You might as well could've just told me 'I don't want
to explain', because that was your least subtle attempt to change subjects, ever.”

Lucifer shrugged. “It was a valiant attempt though!”

“No it wasn’t. It was dumb.”

Lucifer didn’t elaborate – and since he was ticking me off by his insistence of not-
elaborating, I didn’t say anything either. Like that, the atypical silence in-between us was
getting thick and agonizing quickly.

Good.

“Uhm. So – would the pretty lady like a drink? Any drink?” he eventually asked, his voice
smoother than butter, and he carefully glided a hand around my waist.

“Sure,” I said, my own voice flat and void of any emotion. “Make it a Negroni.”

“A Negroni? Not a Vesper?”

“I’ll take the Negroni, thank you very much.” I shot him an angry look. “After getting
rebuffed like that, I’m up for something bitter.”

Wincing and laughing feebly at that biting remark, Lucifer hastily made himself scarce and
disappeared from my sight.

I clacked my tongue dismissively.

Asshole.

He was lucky he was cute.

CcC
I was a bit reluctant about… going all out with my dancing.

I had seen the looks on the party’s invitees’ faces, shortly after Alastor had pulled me up from
the chair and onto the dance floor. I had seen the confusion, the bewilderment, the exchanged
glances and the hands, covering up mouths as sinners and demons muttered about me and Al.
Their eyes were big and following our every move, their expressions wild mixes of pity,
hilarity, disbelieve and uncertainty. They were collectively discussing me and Alastor – and
the thought of them judging us because of what we had become… it made me flustered and
unfocused.

As confident as I was before, when I encouraged Alastor to just kiss the ever-loving crap out
of me in front of a puzzled public, as nervous I was right after, when I was standing in the
middle of the Royal Hall, feeling everybody’s eyes glued to me.

The upbeat song playing in the background was entertaining and challenging me to start
dancing already, but it – it just wasn’t enough for me or my shaky legs to jump into action
already, and I felt like a complete idiot.

Then Alastor squished my face between his thumb and forefinger, turning it so that I could
look at him, and at him only. He looked very excited, in spite of all the weird attention, and
his eyes were overflowing with confidence. It was, in a way, strangely comforting for me to
behold.

“Forget about them, my love. Imagine it’s just you and me in the ballroom of the hotel.”

I tried laughing – it sounded more like shrieking. “It’s… kind of hard to do that when
everybody’s staring at us like that, Al.”

“Kind of hard? Ha ha! Well, not for me it isn’t! I’m an entertainer, my dear! Being in the
center of everyone’s attention is what I live for! In all honesty, I’d feel gravely insulted if they
hadn’t begun looking at us, especially after that delicious kiss we shared! Thank you for
agreeing to do that with me, by the by. It lifted my spirits.”

Al grinned, took my hand in his and put his other hand on my waist. Then he started to shift
his feet to the familiar steps of the quickstep, his brusque and brimming movements forcing
my queasy body to react to his and follow his lead.

“So naturally they’re staring at us, Charlie,” he continued, as I stumbled along. “Why, they
should be staring at us!”

I had to work hard to keep up with him, since my thoughts were still a jumbled mess. “You –
you really think so, huh?”

Alastor gave me a secretive smile, guiding me across the dancing hall with relative ease.

“Oh, my beautiful, darling Charlie…”

He paused as he pushed me away from him, caught up with me again and wrapped his arms
around me. Then he twirled me around some more and I heard myself yelp when I felt his leg
meeting the back on my own legs. He had a strong hold on me, though, and instead of falling,
I was being dipped low.

“…do you know what a fine couple we make? Do you even remotely realize just what a
wonderful match you and I are? How natural it is for us to be together?”

I stared up at him, my chest raising and falling gently. God he looked hot from this angle.

“I – I think so.”

Al pulled me upright again and pressed me to his body. He felt warm and even though this
had only been the very first dance, his heart was already bumping fiercely against his chest.

“Then show me. You can show them as well, for all I care – but show me, first. Humor me.
Entertain me. Dance with me, with everything you got. Have no fear of what ‘they’ might
think or say about us – just have some good old fun! As long as you yourself believe we
should be together, like I believe we should, nobody has got anything on us, my love.”

He, once more, got hold of my face and tilted it up again. His face was – impossible close to
mine and my eyes got half-lidded when he leaned in, giving me another sweet kiss. I needed
that and stood on the tips of my toes to kiss him back harder.

“I get it,” I breathed when I pulled back. “And I’ll show you.”

Al licked his lips and nodded, intrigued. “That’s more like it, my dear.”

CcC

Things got a lot more fun and pleasant for me, as soon as I had thrown out my initial reserve
out of the window and just allowed myself to dance to my heart’s content. I forgot about my
insecurities and whatever my parents or their visitors would think of us and just – let myself
get lost into the many dances Alastor roped me into.

When the cheerful song ‘Mambo No. 5’ began to play, Al didn’t start to dance a typical
mambo with me – but he initiated a quick-paced jive, which, in the end, was a way better-
fitting dance for a song this jittery and quirky. I didn’t even have to think about the dance, not
with Al as my lead: he simply pulled me with him, persuaded me into the right directions,
spun me around and made me laugh out loud by momentarily switching to a mambo near the
end of the song anyway.

When the weird and overbearing song ‘Gaia’ was thundering around the room, Alastor didn’t
falter and smacked his body to mine, his hand gripping the small of my back, making it sway
from left to right for a bit, before a killing Viennese waltz broke lose. However, now that I
had decided to simply have fun, it was easy for me to keep up with Al’s impressive footwork
and many turns and twists. It was hard for me to keep myself from snorting at the dramatic
lyrics of the song, though, and even harder when Al made a few very comical ‘what the hell
is up with this damn song’—faces.

There were many songs and dances that followed up these ones – another quickstep to ‘There
She Goes’, a cheeky tango to ‘Your Woman’, a sensual mambo to ‘Sway’ and a playful cha-
cha to ‘Bailamos’, just to name a few – and they were all equally enjoyable for me to dance
to. Not only because I just happened to love the combination of corny songs and because
Alastor was – freaking amazing at making every song more than just a little danceable, but
also because they made me lose track of time.

Therefore, when the mellow and relatively gentle-sounding ‘Sleeping Satellite’ was the next
song in line – and Al and I wordlessly chose to pick this old classic as the one song we’d use
to catch our breaths on – I finally found myself glancing around us, as I leaned into Al during
our slow dancing.

Nobody was looking at us anymore, I noticed, nor were we still the only ones dancing. It
looked like the dance floor had eventually become crowded again after the guests had gotten
over their first shock of seeing me and Alastor smooching and dancing together. Although Al
had swimmingly managed to distract me from the gaping, stupefied faces, I still felt
incredibly relieved to see we were just one of the many couples huddled together on the
dance floor now – and I sighed deeply, wrapping my arms around Alastor and nuzzling my
face into his white dress shirt.

“You see?” I heard him softly say to me, while one of his hands curled my hair around its
fingers. “Nobody’s staring anymore. You’ve convinced them.”

“Apparently.” I closed my eyes for a bit. “I’m sorry for taking away your gawking audience.”

Al rested his head on top of mine. “That’s alright. Gawking lowlifes get boring after a while.”

I chuckled. “Wow – you’re even critical about the people giving you the attention you so
desperately crave for. You’re not easy to please, are you?”

“I only want the best of the best.” Al gave me a snug squeeze. “Hence why I ended up with
you, my dear.”

“M-my god, Al…”

“It had to be you, Charlie.” He made me shiver when he put away a lock of hair behind my
ear. “You know it had to be you.”

Getting compliments like that all of a sudden – it was too much for me. My face flared up
aggressively and I rubbed it against his chest some more, as if I wanted to completely bury
myself within him. Alastor chortled, his body shaking to the vibrations of his laughter. I
smiled as well, since I just had to, whenever Al laughed like that – so unconcerned, so
unguarded, so genuine.

I moved my hands over his back. His lanky, tall body was like the map of a country I had
explored many times already. I nowadays knew this country very well and I liked it – loved it,
even, and no matter how many times I’d return to it, I knew I’d end up discovering new
delights, new, interesting places I had yet to chart.

I cherished it all.

He smelled so nice tonight.

He felt so nice tonight.

He sounded so nice tonight.

Wait… sounded?

Listening closely, I raised my face from his chest, gazing up at him. A new song was playing
yet again – and Al was quietly humming along with it.

‘And I’d give up forever to touch you,

because I know that you feel me somehow
You’re the closest to Heaven that I’ll ever be
and I don’t want to go home right now.

And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life
Sooner or later it’s over,
I just don’t want to miss you tonight.’

Oh my GOD.

Al was humming a cheesy love song.

Al was humming a cheesy love song.

Al was humming a cheesy love song!

I shut my opened mouth, gulped and hugged him tighter, as cautiously as I was able to,
hoping with all of my heart he’d do it – that he’d actually sing out loud. Please let him sing
out loud – please, please, please let him sing it out loud.

Alastor had sung out loud more often, of course: Al had a great voice and he was fully aware
of this. Therefore, he sang a lot, and he sang unabashed, unashamed, unfazed by what others
might feel about it. That was just what he did – that was just how Al was. He’d sing a song if
he felt like it and that was that, end of story.

But not a love song.

Never a love song.

Probably because it was too corny for him, or too… below his standards or something.
But oh.

Oh what I wouldn’t give to hear Alastor sing a love song…!

“Out of the question,” Al decisively said, when he eventually took notice of my insistent
staring and after I had told him what was on my mind. “I apologize, my love, but I’m not
going to sing you an embarrassing love song like this one. Not now, at least.”

I had been prepared for a very solid and definitive no, so hearing that there actually was a fair
chance he would do it, made me perk up my ears.

“Does that mean you will sing me a love song one day?” I hopefully asked him.

He made a face. “Well. I guess I foiled myself just now, didn’t I?”

“You don’t have to sing to me if you don’t feel like it,” I was quick to say, drawing patterns
on his chest, “…but, well…”

“Yes…?”

“I love your voice.” I smiled upon his almost-but-just-not-yet-frowning face and placed a
swift kiss to his chin. “I’d love to hear you singing me a love song with that amazing voice of
yours. I heard many variations of it already: when you’re happy, when you’re annoyed, when
you’re sad, when you’re sleepy. When you’re holding back. When you’re not holding back.”

Alastor eyed me silently, watching me down my own saliva and clutch his waistcoat with
clammy hands.

I tried to compose myself and continued: “I… I want to know what it sounds like when it
does something like that. When you – sing a love song to me.”

“Alright. It’s settled then: I’ll sing a love song to you one of these days, I promise.” Al
pressed a warm hand to my damp, sticky, worked-up face and snickered, his eyes glistering
knowingly. “But my goodness, Charlie – if it means that much to you and if the mere thought
of it alone gets you this sexually aroused, you should have told me sooner, you lewd little
thing.”

“I’m – I’m not that aroused,” I muttered, staring at him so hard it kind of hurt.

“Charlie, you are literally undressing me with your eyes right now. And I… you…”

He stopped mid-sentence. Alastor’s equally hazy gaze traveled further down my yearning
figure as he took in the sight of me, panting rigidly for entirely different reasons than all the
dancing we had done before. I saw he saw the red blotches on my uncovered flesh, the
twitching of my hands. I noticed he noticed the burning desire in my eyes, the permission he
had to do whatever he wanted to do to me. I swallowed when he swallowed, his hand on my
face slowly sliding down to my naked shoulder. It had grown rather sweaty.

“Charlie,” he started over, “I…”

 “Have I ever showed you my bedroom?” I blurted out all of a sudden.

His eyes grew bigger. “Excuse me?”

“My – my bedroom. My bedroom here.” I darted my tongue over my dry lips and snatched
his hand from my shoulder. “I want to show it to you.”

Alastor didn’t answer me right away; he was staring at my mouth, now shining a little
because of my tongue’s efforts.

“Al.” I tugged on his hand. “Can I show you?”

Alastor inhaled and exhaled in a brave effort to keep his breathing under control. In the end,
he simply nodded, bending his head towards me and brushing my hair out of the way, before
whispering hotly into my ear that he wanted me to please keep on the dress, at least for the
first round.

Then he blew into my ear and I all but dignifiedly mewled in response. With a racing heart, I
pushed him back, my head spinning. It was a pretty hilarious response, I can imagine – but
Alastor looked wound up and bothered, too wound up and bothered to laugh at the result of
his teasing.

He longed for me as well.

Not wanting to waste any more time, I pointedly gestured to the door at the other end of the
room, keeping my eyes on his all the while. My voice sounded tense and provocative when I
finally spoke up.

“Follow me.”

Chapter End Notes

Far, far away, in the Indian jungle, there lies a small and mysterious lake. Every full
moon, the Moon Goddess and hundreds of twinkling starts come down from the night
sky to dance and party hard on the lake’s surface, in-between the beautifully floating
water lilies. They all dance to the mysterious, enchanting singing voice of a Witch,
who’s always standing beside a majestic waterfall.
The dancing is very nice and all, but comes dawn, the Moon Goddess claps her hands,
reminding her sparkly underlings that it’s time for them to return to the skies. Most of
the time, this goes well… but one night, seven stars disobey the Moon Goddess and
continue to dance on the lake. The Witch is infuriated by their insolence and the
rebellious stars are heavily punished: they are changed into fairies, trapped into the
water lilies they love so much by daytime and forced to dance on the lake during
nighttime. They now need to do this until the end of time, never getting another chance
to rise up to the skies ever again.
This little fairy tale was made up by the Belgium Queen Fabiola (1928-2014): she had
once written a storybook with at least twelve little tales in it, and this story was one of
them. Although it’s not very well-known in most countries, it’s a VERY famous one in
the Netherlands and Belgium, since the amusement park De Efteling made an indoor
puppet show (with some really catchy music to it) out of it. It’s one of my favorite
depictured fairy tales there, to be honest – and I don’t even like puppet shows!
 Snow White
Chapter Summary

Alastor and Charlie share another passionate night together - at the Royal Palace, this
time.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

With a mind that was clouded by nothing but lust and desire, I had no restraint whatsoever
when I kicked open Charlie’s bedroom door and brought the two of us inside of the quiet,
dark room.

I had an armful of Charlie with me as I stumbled into the secluded room. She clung to me –
her legs wrapped around my hips tightly, her warm hands gripping my face, her eyes closed,
her lips firmly screwed onto mine. I could taste the sensation of her ragged, sweet, aroused
wheezing on my taste buds as she kissed me, deeply and roughly. I didn’t care how light-
headed I was starting to get because of the sheer lack of air – I wanted to savor more of
Charlie, I wanted more of this perfect woman, more and more and more, until I couldn’t see
straight anymore, until all I breathed was her.

It wasn’t just me. Charlie was at the end of her rope, too. Her feverish, desperate,
openmouthed kisses had become sloppy and messy, the more my moist lips crushed
themselves together with hers. She moaned impatiently, slipped her tongue into my mouth,
suckled greedily on my own, licked the saliva off my mouth and slid her hands into my hair.
Gripping my scalp and gasping my name against my opened lips without saying anything,
her eyes opened up at last, giving me a hooded look that made my blood boil and
overwhelmed my senses.

I wanted to fuck her.

I wanted to fuck her so much.

I slammed our mouth together again and eagerly took in every quivering mewl that left her
wet lips.

More than a little pent-up and shaking all over my stiffened body, I threw a hand behind me,
felt the edge of the elegant bedroom door meeting my touch – and slammed it shut with a
sound thud. I had expected the room to instantly become dark, but the light of the corridor
shone through the decorative transom window above the crosspiece of the door. It helped me
with finding my wobbly way to Charlie’s bed, which I could vaguely make out of the
shadowy shapes behind her.
There was no time to lose, there was nothing to be said. I simply brought Charlie over to her
bed, unceremoniously dropped the both of us down on top of it and crawled all over her the
second her back hit the velvety-soft duvet, never stopping to remove my lips from hers. I
grunted, clutched her fancy clothing from behind and started dragging Charlie upwards, to
the center of the bed. Charlie wrapped her arms around my neck and let it all just happen.

It was unusual we didn’t speak. Since both me and Charlie were fairly talkative people, we
pretty much always had something of a dialogue going on during sex, or at least during the
foreplay-bit. Our nonsensical banter had always been very reassuring for me in the beginning,
when I still had no clue about what I should do or how I should do it. But in this very
moment, in which Charlie shamelessly pulled up the ruffled skirt-part of her dress, bit down
on her lower lip and spread her legs a little wider for me, we both knew talking was the last
thing on our minds. One of her ungloved hands reached down and I shuddered, watching her
making fine tears in the middle of her refined pantyhose with her fingernails.

It was then when I realized I indeed was going to make love to Charlie in her showy,
sophisticated attire she wore so well and hugged her body so nicely… so naturally, my mouth
started to water. I had liked to take in the wonderful sight of the beautiful Princess of Hell,
unabashedly offering herself to me, a bit longer – but then I noticed, in the faint light coming
from the hallway, how one of Charlie’s restless hands now attempted to lay itself onto her
thinly-clad groin. Charlie laughed breathlessly when I shook my head at her in a beseeching
manner, and she obediently let her hand drop to the side, shivering when I put my fingers into
the rips of her pantyhose – and made a much bigger opening into it, straightaway.

The sound of ripping fabric and the air hitting her hot, suddenly exposed lower body made
Charlie suck in a thick gulp of breath, while I just gaped at what I saw right in front of me.

Or didn’t see right in front of me.

Charlie wasn’t wearing underwear.

Slowly, I turned away from Charlie’s already glistering-wet, pleading womanhood and met
her twinkling eyes. Charlie looked at me with a blushing, bright-red face that gave me an
embarrassed, nervous smile and a naughty, lewd grin at the very same time.

My goodness.

She really was something in-between an angel and a devil.

I felt my cheeks redden and I internally debated with myself for a bit about whether I should
feel turned on by this dirty, yet compelling discovery… or simply be immensely enamored by
Charlie’s own, cute, obviously conflicted feelings about the situation she had willfully put
herself in. In the end however, my thoughts were too distracted by too many shreds of
emotions and carnal needs to form an opinion on it at all, and I therefore simply began to
undo my pants with one hand. The other one took hold of one of Charlie’s faltering legs and
gently hooked it over my shoulder.

Charlie’s chest heaved up and down faster than before when I moved closer to her. The faint
light outside the room partially fell on her face – the lower side of her face, to be exact. I
could see the blemishes her own intense blushing had left on her chest and in her neck, and
her lips – her heavenly lips – were plump, nice and red, thanks to the many kisses I had
assaulted them with.

I brought my erection to her slit and without much ado, I pushed forwards. I made sure to
enter her slowly and steadily, though. Simply plunging in and getting a move on would most
likely cause one of us to climax sooner than we both wanted to, or so I suspected… so I took
my time sinking into her, completely into her, until our bodies connected and I was snugly
sheathed within Charlie’s warm, flushed body.

As I heard Charlie’s breathing pick up speed as well and felt her other leg wound itself
around my middle, I firmly pressed my lips together and buried my nails into the bedding my
panting and twitching lover laid on. I quietly urged my soaring thoughts and already rapidly
approaching orgasm to slow down a little – to let me catch my breath for a while. I had to.
She simply – felt so good… so very good…

“A-Al…”

My eyes snapped open again. When Charlie’s fingers folded themselves around my wrists
and her lips parted to make way for a particularly filthy little whine, I finally started to move.
Charlie uttered an ecstatic moan upon feeling me move within her at last, immediately
followed up by another one, and yet another one. Her cries never got too loud this time
though, and for some reason, her soft, subdued sobs of passion, in combination with her
blooming, concentrated face, made it even more erotic for me to watch.

I inhaled deeply. Lord if she didn’t look like the most beautiful, most entrancing being I had
ever laid my eyes on. Charlie’s dress rustled rhythmically in time with our movements as I
steadily pushed myself into its sighing and compliant owner, over and over again. It was both
an annoyance (all that frilly tulle!) as it was bizarrely exciting, thrusting into Charlie while
she wasn’t even naked yet, not even her legs.

“I need m-more, please… please…”

The second Charlie started begging me for more, I increased my tempo and pounded into her
hot entrance harder, much harder. I did as I was told, since seeing a whimpering Charlie fall
apart in the most wonderful way was a truly spectacular sight to behold – but it was getting
too much for me, and just as I painstakingly clenched my teeth and wondered how much
longer before Charlie would reach her peak, she arched her back and gasped out my name.

“Ah… Al—!”

She trembled and flinched underneath me vehemently, her hands squeezing my arms. Her
legs both constricted themselves around my waist and shoulder, pulling me in even further.

I exhaled at last, letting out an audible breath of relief. Now that Charlie had climaxed, I
allowed myself to try and come as well - but not before I felt the tender grip of Charlie,
prying my hands off the bed’s covers a little and slipping her own, shaky fingers in-between
their openings. This small, endearing, lovely gesture amidst all the heavy groaning, shoving
and tightening proved to be the last straw. It made me lose my balance and control, and when
the rush fogged up my vision and a special kind of bliss washed over me entirely, Charlie
yanked me down on top her, trapping me into her sweaty embrace. She humming weakly, yet
contently, as I kissed her neck and spilled myself inside of her.

AaA

Eventually, when Charlie and I were lying next to one another and let our hysterical
heartbeats calm down again, I found myself turning to my side, gazing at Charlie’s damp, soft
lips. Before I could even think about stopping myself, I reached out to her face and brushed
the back of my fingers over her mouth.

Charlie, still beat and catching her breath from our recent activities, raised her glassy eyes up
and smiled at me, pressing a kiss to my wandering fingers.

I smiled back at her and scooted closer to her. Charlie wiggled closer to me as well, cupping
my face and leaning into me when I took my chance and pressed a quick peck to her lips.

While Charlie ‘s eyes fluttered shut and she dozed off a little, I continued looking at her
mouth for a bit longer.

AaA

I loved Charlie’s mouth.

Everything started with her mouth. Everything ended with it. Even our lovemaking just now.
It was an never-ending circle.

There was a certain silky, smooth and pleasing aesthetic to it. I couldn’t quite put my finger
on it, I... suppose I simply enjoyed and appreciated it. Come to think of it: I had always
enjoyed and appreciated Charlie’s fascinating, charming little mouth one way or another -
even starting from the very start, when I hadn’t fallen for her yet. I had simply liked the way
her voice sounded and how her lips moved, whenever she addressed me. It sounded nice and
I was genuinely looking forward to… well, seeing the princess’ mouth form the letters that
spelled out my given name.

Just that. Only that.

In those strange, unsure beginnings, Charlie used to approach me with a fair amount of
reasonable caution, her mouth nothing but a doubtful, unstable rim. She knew who and what I
was, after all – she was fully aware of what kind of sick, twisted mind had wandered into her
hotel. Later, however, when we started spending more time together, it came to my attention
that Charlie’s lips had this habit of curling into full-blown, kind smiles whenever she talked
to me.
Her tentative attitude changed – even stronger put, her whole opinion about me changed, and
her lips had been the unwitting, yet willing carriers of that secret message.

The more time we conversed and got to know one another, the more I fell for her – and the
more I fell for her, the more I longed to know more about her lips.

I wanted to know how I could make them curve upwards even more.

I wanted to know how many versions of her smiles were only available for me.

I wanted to know how they would feel against mine.

When we finally exchanged kisses for the very first time, it felt like something save, certain
and stubborn snapped within me. Harsh and violently and thoroughly, almost as if something
wanted to make sure that that, whatever it was that had gotten broken, wasn’t going to get
patched up again any day soon.

It was ruined forever, as soon as Charlie had impulsively thrown her arms around my neck
and placed her reckless lips on mine.

Now I – I had never been kissed before, up to that point.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what she expected of me. Why, I didn’t even know
what I expected of me! Fortunately, however, the pent-up frustration within me made it all
easier for me: it only took one sudden kiss from the one I had fallen in love with to
completely topple my wavering perseverance over, make me haul all of my natural reserve
overboard and answer Charlie’s questioning mouth with a desperate kind of aggression I had
never felt before.

Therefore, I’m sure those first few kisses we exchanged were rather painful for Charlie.

My confused feelings were all over the place. I had no experience whatsoever. Furthermore,
my teeth were sharp, big and – just plain inconvenient. I cut her tongue and made her mouth
bleed from the inside more than once, surely, simply because I had no clue on how to kiss her
like I was supposed to kiss her. I remember feeling her squirm in my hands as I viciously
gripped her face and kissed her with an intensity I felt most embarrassed about nowadays.
Yes, kissing me hurt her – I was sure it did.

But Charlie didn’t mind. Not once did she complain about the wounds I caused, whenever I
awkwardly gave in to temptation and attacked those full lips of hers again. The way her
mouth would sting after sharing kisses with me, kisses that were far too uncomfortable to be
really enjoyable – she accepted all that agony wholeheartedly. She would readily hold me,
patiently let me kiss her as much as I wanted to kiss her, and that’s why, gradually, I found a
way to kiss Charlie in a way that wouldn’t leave her precious mouth raw and bruised.

Oh I had gotten much better, by the by. I simply knew I had. Why, I even dared to say I
probably was one of the better kissers Charlie had ever had! A bold statement – but it is what
it is!
Still though: it had been quite the process, in more ways than one can possibly imagine. Even
now, as I gazed at Charlie’s glossy lips and thought about how much pleasure they had
brought me, I once more found myself wondering how Charlie had ever been able to bear my
kisses back then.

Why on earth had she even wanted to carry on kissing someone whose unpractical teeth and
glaring inexperience made her feel all that unneeded discomfort? It truly blew my mind.

So I was set on asking her.

CcC

“Charlie?” Al’s voice suddenly resonated through the familiar darkness of my old bedroom.
“A question, my love. Do you mind?”

“Hmmm…?”

Still feeling dazed and wonderfully stretched out, I lazily looked up at him – and couldn’t
help but shriek a little upon seeing Alastor’s huge, uneven eyes looking down at me at the
exact same time. Despite the pretty rowdy round of hot sex he had with me just a minute or
ten ago, he apparently already had something else on his mind. By the look of it, it seemed to
be a topic that worried him.

Well – I guess that was Alastor for you. Always the worrywart.

I chuckled at his way too focused, way too serious gaze and took his face in my hands,
pressing my hands together so that he unwittingly pursed his lips together and looked like a
total dork.

“…rweally now,” he sighed, a slight frown forming on his forehead.

I grinned and smooched said forehead. “It’s okay, Al! I think I know what you’re going to ask
me, but don’t worry. This is my bedroom. After one... 'happy accident' too many, mom, dad
and I got the following unspoken rule: we never enter each other’s bedrooms unasked. Plus, I
let mom know we’re here, and she promised to keep dad busy (I don't want to know with
what). So we can just lay back and relax in here!”

After a short moment of quietness, Alastor smiled, wrapped his hands around mine and
peeled them off his face. It had an amused grin decorating it. “That is an interesting side of
you, I must say.”

“What do you mean?”

“Going to your parents’ party that they organized specially for you without wearing
underclothes, seducing me on the dancefloor, convincing me to make love to you in your
former bedroom, while we both know it would be much better and safer to do that back at the
hotel…” Al’s half-lidded eyes flickered and he propped himself up on an elbow, leaning onto
the mattress. “You’re a very sweet and incorruptible woman, Charlie – but it’s these kinds of
antics you sometimes depict that casually remind me... that you have a whole less innocent
side to you…”

Feeling called out and carefully looking up at his smiling face, I wrung my lips together and
gripped the bulging fabric of my dress. In all fairness, I… had hoped he wouldn’t – bring up
the no-panties-thing anymore. This... immoral side of me wasn’t something I was especially
proud of, after all…

However, Al didn’t seem to be disgusted with me, so I hesitantly voiced what I was thinking.

“You don’t – dislike this side of me?”

“Now why would I dislike it?”

“Because it’s pretty perverted.”

He hummed, wiping a stray lock of hair from my face. “That it is. It’s indeed a pretty kind of
perverseness you have. Most entertaining!”

I blushed. “Y-you really think it’s pretty and entertaining?”

“My dear, if one would ask me, I’d say that sex is fairly straightforward and therefore kind of
dull – not always, mind you, and certainly not with you, but you get my point. So, to answer
your question, no – I don’t mind you putting us in stimulating, innovative tête-à-têtes like
this, if that helps the two of us getting more… indulged in the act itself.”

“That’s good to know.” I chuckled awkwardly. “Thanks for telling me, Al.”

“Naturally.”

He gazed at me and I gazed right back. My smile faded. The inside of my mouth got a bit
drier and I felt a familiar, tingling feeling intensifying in the area below my waist, when I
thought about what to do next.

Don’t get me wrong: like I had said before, that was some pretty good sex we had a litle
while ago. I could still feel my cooling body tremble ever so slightly, thinking back to it. But
it had been too long since the last time we had slept together like this – and I knew that this
first wild bout of copulating therefore hadn’t been enough for me.

“Hey – hey, Al?” I heard myself mutter.

“What is it, my love?” he asked. I chortled: I could tell Al already knew what I was going to
suggest, but he got kudos for acting like he genuinely didn’t know.

“How about we do it some more..?”

I shifted my eyebrows at him in a (hopefully) very seductive and sultry way and wanted to
suggestively run a teasing hand over his naked arm...
…buuuut that didn’t really leave any impact at all, since the arm in question wasn’t naked. I
was just – weirdly rubbing over his arm’s sleeve, like an idiot.

And Alastor just blinked at me, dumbfounded.

“Do what some more?”

…oh for fuck’s sake.

I was about to let out a very disgruntled growl – but then Alastor, that damn jerk, failed to
stifle a chuckle and he all of a sudden sat up, taking my hands in his and pulling me up with
him. I wanted to stammer to him that he shouldn’t pester me like that - but before I could, Al
swiftly turned me around, so that my back was facing him, and started fidgeting with the
zipper of the (now crumpled and ripped) bodice of Rosie’s oh so carefully made dress.

“Let’s get you out of that pink puffball, first, hmm…?”

“I – y-yes.”

His hand landed on my bare shoulder, keeping me in place as the sensation of a piece of cold,
hard material running down my back shot through me – just like that shiver I felt, when Al
removed my exploded bush of hair from my back and placed a couple of hot kisses on my
shoulders’ uncovered skin.

There was a big gulp of air leaving my lungs when Al pulled down the upper part of the
dress. Oh – finally. I muttered something unintelligible, closing my eyes in silent delight and
anticipation. He was trying to get me out of my undergarment as well, I realized, and I leaned
back against him, holding my breath.

“Confound this demonic device,” I then heard him grumble, accompanied by many other
obviously frustrated noises he was making while he struggled with my bra – and of course,
with that, the sultry atmosphere was instantly gone again.

God damn it Al.

I still had to giggle though. God, he was so dumb and adorable: even after all this time and
after all the sex we had had over the past months, he still wasn’t able to get me out of my bra
without getting all agitated and huffy about it.

“You’re such a nerd, Al.”

“A... what?” his baffled reply sounded.

“Nothing, nothing… here, let me help you out.”

Smiling to myself, I helpfully reached my hands behind my back, calmly placed them on his
and guided them to the little hooks on the straps. Al’s tugging and twitching hands instantly
stopped their unwinnable fight.
“You feel these thingies?” I plucked one of his fingers from my bra and nudged it to the
inside of my bra-strap.

“…yes?” Al’s breath hit my skin and I shivered involuntarily.

“Now – unhook those thingies and you will release the ladies.”

Al made a strange noise that sounded like a surprised snort.

“Did you – did you seriously refer to your breasts as ‘the ladies’ just now?”

“Maybe.”

He clacked his tongue and I could practically feel Alastor shake his head as he (now
successfully) removed my bra.

“Good gracious, Charlie. What an udder disappointment your sense of humor turns out to
be.”

Holy shit.

I harshly pursed my lips together in an attempt to keep myself from bursting out in laughter
and cheekily glanced over my shoulder at him. “I’m sorry, Al, but like my bra, I just had to
get it off my chest.”

Alastor’s eyes lit up, but he, too, kept his laughter under control. “Speaking of your bra – I
think I might need to get you a new one, my dear. This one is bust.”

Oh – oh that was terrible. After hearing that particularly bad pun, I could no longer hold in
my suppressed, hiccupping snickers and they started escaping my mouth as soon as I tried to
say something to that in response. Seeing how I hard I tried to say something funny, but was
physically unable to do so because of my own stupid laughing, Alastor cracked up as well.
His arms sneaked around me and he hauled me onto his lap, continuing to tell me even more
horrible boob-related puns.

Eventually, the remains of my squeals and giggles died in the back of my throat when Alastor
turned me around so that I could decently look at him. I watched him gleefully, my eyes filled
with tears of laughter as Al excitedly began a tall, elaborate story that would no doubt end in
an insultingly lousy joke. However, overwhelmed with giddy feelings, I cut him off mid-
sentence – by clasping him by his half-undone dress shirt and pulling his yapping mouth
against mine, smothering his gibberish with my tongue.

Alastor froze up, as per usual – but then immediately thawed out again, lowering his hands
until they rested on my butt-cheeks. He made a low sound, letting me know he was up and
eager for more. Pulling me flat against him, Al grinded his rapidly hardening cock against the
folds of my lower, private parts, kneading my flesh from behind. I moaned in response and
drove my nails into his shoulders when he, way quicker than I had foreseen, slipped into me
again.
“Oh – shit,” I wheezed, my head falling down on his shoulder, and I automatically locked my
legs around him. I rocked with him as he wrapped his pointy fingers around my neck, his
other hand pushing against the small of my back, encouraging me to keep on moving. I
choked up a little – he was stirring deep inside of me, and holy fuck did I feel like I was
breaking apart.

But I loved it – god I loved every single second of it so much.

“You’re – amazing,” Al managed to croak out, after I had hurriedly worked him out of his
dress shirt and waistcoat, and he stole a kiss from me before I could reply. He had slowed
down his jolting, yet methodized movements, pulled up his knees – and fell backwards,
taking me with him. Feeling he hit multiple spots - differently in this new position, I keened
and melted into his touch. I got lost in the way he made me feel, while all of my loud
mewling ended right where his started.

When he had to stop kissing me (I could swear he was starting to suffocate), I instantly sat
up, without removing him from me – and I adjusted my position just a bit, making sure
Alastor had a good view on me, riding him. I wanted to look very smug, sexy and
professional while slumping down on his dick and feeling how he jammed himself further
into me, but it was right at that point that I suspected I had – clearly overestimated myself
and maybe sat up a bit too quickly: my already overstimulated mind was swimming all of a
sudden, I became disoriented – and I needed – I needed something to hold on to, before I’d—

My hands were suddenly gripped tightly by other, larger hands. My vison cleared up again
and I woozily stared at Al’s claws, intimately woven together with my fingers.

“I got you,” Alastor breathlessly said, somewhere below me.

An insane, delighted blush flared up from the back of my neck. My eyes teared up again, for
– for whatever silly, soft-hearted reason – and my lips quivered a little. I steadied myself on
top of him and nodded, giving his hands a thankful little squeeze.

“Y-yeah,” I then softly said, in-between small puffs of air, and writhed my pelvis back and
forth. “You got me.”

There was… a lot more that happened, after these sappy words had been spoken, and I could
faintly remember that this round of sex had also brought me to a satisfactory (yet awkward)
orgasm. But somehow, my mind had only picked this very moment – the instant Al had taken
my hands and supported me until the end of it, until our lungs were desperately struggling for
more oxygen and the rest of our fixed bodies reached new heights – to file away in my
fondest, most tender memories of that night.

I didn’t really know why.

But I had it now.

So I'd better take good care of it.

 AaA

Soon after the second sexual session had ended, a third one was taking place.

And then, a fourth one commenced.

And after that, even a fifth one. I... think?

Ha ha ha! Oh well! Who knows!

...

I was so, so exhausted, Dear lord. So terribly exhausted, and wrecked, and sensitive all over
my worn-out person – and I honestly had no idea how on earth I managed to keep up with
this extremely driven Charlie, but I suppose it helped I was doing all of this with her.

For her.

Because I wanted to satisfy her, to ravish her, to fill her up with my entire essence, time and
time again, and make her gasp for sweet, sweet release. I needed to fulfill all of her sexual
needs and desires, especially since I knew that, after this passionate night, when the party was
officially over, there most likely wouldn’t be another opportunity for me to enthrall Charlie
like this in quite a while.

I was so dead-set on giving Charlie all the pleasure that she wanted (and more), that I almost
missed her hoarsely stuttered-comment, shortly after I had removed my mouth from the
delectable space in-between her quivering, sticky inner thighs.

“God I love your mouth…”

Oh?

Suddenly remembering the question I had wanted to ask her – oh, ages ago, I (laboriously)
dragged myself up her panting figure and settled down on her raising and falling chest.

“You do?” I asked her.

Charlie looked at me with blurred, misty eyes, the fists she had held my hair with now finally
relaxing themselves and losing their rough grip.

“Yes I do,” she answered, patting my head tiredly. “I’ve always loved your mouth – I love all
about it.”

“Even in the beginning,” I wanted to know, “when I almost always hurt you, whenever I
kissed you?”

“Yeah,” Charlie smiled blissfully, slithering her hands down my head until they rested on my
face.
I stared at her, puzzled. “But – well, I wasn’t very good at it.”

“Oh no, you sucked balls, Al, big time.”

“Then why did you still—”

Charlie put a finger on my still-moist lips and gazed affectionately at me, her own lips
curving upwards. I shut up right away and looked at her, waiting.

“You tell me. Why was that, Al? Why did I still enjoy your horrible, panicky kisses? Why did
I long for every single bit of clumsy, weird affection you anxiously tried to give me? Why
was that, darling?”

She then removed her finger – and watched the color on my cheeks turn a darker shade of red
with a sated grin. I had understood what she was trying to tell me, but instead of answering
her, I had hauled myself up on my unsteady arms, brought my face closer to hers and
captured her smudged lips in a tired kiss.

“I love yours, too,” I mumbled against her mouth.

Charlie made a pleased, happy noise and we carried on kissing for a while – chaste, easy,
superficial kisses that simply felt nice, even against dirty, overworked lips that had gotten far
beyond damaged over the course of this seemingly everlasting night.

However, it wouldn’t go on for too long: at a certain moment, I felt she was stirring
underneath me, and just a second later, she flipped the two of us over. I landed on my back
and Charlie right on top of me, and even in the mystifying black of Charlie’s childhood’s
bedroom, her eyes were unmistakably sparkling with mirth.

Still, her voice was shy and unsure when she broke the silence.

“Al?”

“Yes?”

“Since you love my mouth so much, I… I’d like to do something new. Something I haven’t
done with you before.”

I was about to ask her what, but that wasn’t needed: the smacking of her lips and the
sensation of her curious fingers, gingerly trailing downwards, over my belly, gave me the
answer to the question I hadn’t been able to voice out loud yet. She didn’t go down all the
way though and paused her hand’s movements when I stayed quiet for too long.

“Al?” she asked again.

I sighed, collected her sweaty, endearing face in my grasp and gave her a fixed look. “We’ve
been over this before, my love. You know I don’t see the appeal in you – taking that in your
mouth. It’s rather revolting.”
Charlie tilted her head. “For someone who thinks oral sex is revolting, you’re
uncharacteristically enthusiastic about eating me out, whenever you see a chance to do so.”

“That’s something completely different.”

“Wha – no it's not!” Charlie flustered and giggled a little, in spite of my curt answer (or
maybe it was because of my curt answer). But then she got a more serious facial expression
and shot me a half-comforting, half-apologizing smile.

“It’s okay, Al – I don’t want to put you on the spot. Sorry if it sounded like I did.”

“You didn’t,” I said. “You absolutely didn’t. Don’t worry about it.”

“Alright.” Charlie beamed a relieved smile at me and nuzzled my chest, letting out a deep
breath of air. I did the same and tried to relax, running my hands through her hair. I felt
Charlie’s hand retracted themselves from my crotch and unhurriedly wound themselves
behind my lower half now – well of course they did, since that’s where my buttocks were
located, as a matter of fact.

Much to my surprise and annoyance, I had a hard time calming down when I felt Charlie
pressing her lips softly against my skin, right above my heart.

It felt nice when she kissed me there.

“I love you,” I heard Charlie murmur, even if her lips were still pressed against my chest, and
she yawned.

“Yes,” I uttered in an odd voice, “I – love you, too.”

Things got quiet and peaceful in the bedroom, at long last. Charlie was slowly but surely
falling asleep, I could tell from the way her grip around me lessened – but I was still wide
awake, much to my chagrin. Despite all the sex, all the kissing, all the rolling, humping,
wheezing, and moaning, I was as alert as ever, all because I…

I couldn’t help but to think yet again…

It felt nice when she kissed me there. On my chest.

So perhaps it was the same if she kissed me – there?

With that lovely mouth of hers.

My heart, once more, increased its pace, thumping hard enough against my ribcage to make
Charlie lift her face sleepily.

“Al…? What’s wro—”

“Alright,” I heard myself say. “Alright, Charlie.”

 I had thought Charlie would perhaps need more clarification, but I was gravely mistaken,
because she instantly spread her eyes wide open, giving me an excited look.

“Oh wow. Okay… okay. Are you sure though?”

“Oh yes. Very sure.”

“That’s goo—”

“I’m also very aware of my tongue right now.”

“Well, that’s… good as well? It’s always nice to be… aware of your tongue.” She chuckled,
however, and gently altered her position. “Just… tell me to stop if you change your mind.
Alright? Doesn’t matter when. Okay, Al? You promise?”

I nodded stiffly.

“Relax, sweetie. And keep breathing.”

“I am breathing.”

“Okay.” She swallowed. “God you got hard fast. I like that. Okay. Here we go…”

Charlie then placed her hands to my sides, making me jolt, and brought her face to the front
of my upper body again. Leaving careful, wet kisses on my faded scars and bruises, she
slowly, but eagerly began licking and caressing her way down my wincing torso.

While Charlie moved herself lower and lower, only stopping every now and then to check if I
was still breathing and willing to go on (which I was, but I appreciated the sentiment
nevertheless), I attempted to get a hold of myself and make light of this new and most alien
situation I had found myself in. That usually helped.

Alright – so perhaps I still found it incredible difficult and abnormal to unwind and give in to
pleasure, especially when it was only me losing control and nobody else, but surely I
wouldn’t overreact and black out from exhaustion and the incomprehensible madness of it
all!

Ha ha ha!

Of course not!

I was the Radio Demon!

Feared by many!

Surely I wouldn’t pass out from a mere blo—

Chapter End Notes

One day, princess Snow White’s beauty surpasses that of her wicked stepmom, the
Queen. The evil Queen gets mad with jealousy and orders a huntsman to take Snow
White into the woods, kill her and cut out her heart, so he can prove to her that the
Princess really is dead.
The huntsman, however, finds himself unable to kill the girl, and lets her escape. In the
woods, Snow White stumbles upon a tiny cottage, belonging to seven dwarfs. The
dwarfs all take a liking to the girl and want to protect her from the evil Queen, so she
can stay with them. They warn her however that she should never let anybody in, just in
case.
In time, the Queen discovers the huntsman’s betrayal and decides to take matters into
her own hands. She finds and unsuccessfully attempts to kill the (extremely naïve and
gullible) Snow White at least two times. The third attempt, however (which is killing her
with a poisonous apple), seems to do the trick.
Sick with grief, the dwarfs put the beautiful body of the Princess in a glass casket, which
a passing-by Prince discovers the next day. He wants to give Snow White a proper burial
at the King’s castle and the dwarfs agree: he should take her with him. One of the
servants carrying the casket is kind of a klutz though: he trips, dislodging the piece of
poisoned apple in Snow White’s throat. Naturally, she wakes up – and naturally, the
Prince instantly wants to marry her. So she does!
Everybody lives happily ever after, except for the Queen, who – like most stepmoms in
fairy tales – meets a fitting and gruesome end.

There are at least fifty (!) different versions of this very popular story, but the most well-
known version is that of the Brothers Grimm. The first and original one, however,
allegedly was from our Greek friend Ovid.
 The Liar King
Chapter Summary

Lucifer would like to have a word with Alastor.

Chapter Notes

Song that is used in this chapter:

'Bittersweet Symphony' by The Verve

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The morning after, I woke up from a hazy dream when a particularly persisted ray of sunlight
hit my eyes.

Groaning softly, I wiggled away from the insistent light and yawned, slowly opening my
eyes. The second I became aware of my surroundings, I became aware of – other things, too.
Because although I felt ridiculously refreshed, satisfied and energized, I also felt like I had
gotten run over by like a dozen raging elephants. That had been on fire. And then I wasn’t
even talking about how damn sore and sensitive I was in-between my legs, holy hell, what
had happened in there?

Oh Charlie, lots of things had happened in there.

I snorted stupidly at my own smug comment, blushing brightly (even though I knew very
well it was a bit too late to be blushing about anything right now) and rubbing over my
flustered face.

As I laid there, on my back, my mind briefly yet very helpfully showed me flashes of… uhm,
all the sex I had the night before. Almost lifelike, mental pictures of Al’s focused face, his
exploring hands, my torn dress and my wrinkled bedding streamed into my unguarded brain.
My cheeks couldn’t help but turn into an even brighter kind of red as all of that, plus the
suggestive imagery of our bodies, moving and slotting together wonderfully, pounced onto
me. The spicy memories of last night made me sigh and shudder in bliss – and enjoy the
afterglow even more, of course. Naturally. Always.

While I looked around, trying to distract myself from – well, myself, really, I noticed
Alastor’s right hand, placed down in the middle of my chest. It twitched ever so slightly
against my naked skin, and when my eyes followed the lines of his hand, then his wrist, his
arm and then finally came to rest on the rest of his body, I discovered that Alastor was lying
next to me, on his tummy (oh! How rare!). He was still very much asleep.

Or should I say, still very much conked out?

He looked pretty adorable like this. His face was so peaceful, so at ease… even the smaller,
more sincere version of his default smile seemed a lot more relaxed than usual.

An endeared grin appeared on my face as I took hold of Al’s hand and kept a close eye on his
unconscious, marred figure, breathing in and out steadily.

I can’t believe this nerd had fainted from a mere blowjob last night.

Or – well – an almost blowjob. To be honest, I had barely put the tip of his dick in-between
my lips or Al had completely lost his marbles and went out like a light, right on the spot.
While Al going full horizontal on me had most definitely surprised me – and I’d be lying if I
claimed I didn’t panic a little after seeing that – I couldn’t say I hadn’t expected this to
happen, looking back.

I mean, he had been totally used up, to put it unpoetically, and the thought of him losing grip
on the situation (any situation, really) while he already was exhausted, at wits’ end, aching all
over his body and fighting against his own sudden curiosity… it must have been a bit too
much for his poor, easily frazzled mind to handle.

Sooo down he went.

What a stubborn man he was.

I loved him so much.

Careful to not accidentally wake him up, I folded my hands around Alastor’s and brought it
up to my lips, planting an affectionate kiss on his knuckles. Oh well, it didn’t matter – there
was always next time. If he’d still want to try it out with me, I’d make sure he’d be ready for
it. He was in good hands.

Talking about hands – wasn’t Al’s hand a bit too warm? Wait, wasn’t this his ‘bad’ hand?

My forehead frowned and I narrowed my eyes, turning his big hand more my way – and my
insides suddenly felt odd and hollow when I studied the back of it.

The white, almost glowing, cross-shaped scar tainting the dark skin of Al’s hand had gotten
bigger. It also felt hot to the touch and if I looked at it up close, I could see some reddish
bruising surrounding the mark. It looked so painful… it had always looked pretty painful, but
now, here in the morning light of my already cheerfully-colored old bedroom, it looked
positively harrowing.

I had a lingering suspicion that Al’s Mark of the Fallen somehow had something to do with…
well, a lot of things Alastor had carefully kept secret from me. He had told me about his
hand, sure, but I assumed he hadn’t told me all about it. Not really. I don’t know why I was
so sure of that – it was a gut feeling.
Good thing he was going to come clean about everything today. I mean, it probably would be
a relief to him as well to get all of that off his chest, right? I wish he had just – told me
sooner. If he had done that, then maybe he didn’t had to endure all that pain.

“Jesus,” I mumbled, shaking my head, and gently put Al’s hand down on my bosom again.

“Now now, my love. How many times do I have to remind you that you can just call me
Alastor? Or Al? Perhaps I should write it on my forehead, as a casual reminder for you.”

His sudden, drowsy voice made me turn my head to him in surprise. “Oh, Al – you’re
awake!”

“I am!” He smiled. “Good morning, my darling Charlie.”

“Y-yeah, good morning, Al.” I shifted and moved to lay on my side, keeping his hand pressed
to my chest – even though I felt he tried to pull it away from me. “How are you feeling?
Better? Have you, uhm, recovered a little from – you know, last night…?”

It would have been great if I hadn’t reddened as much as I did when I said that, but, oh well, I
still did.

Alastor gave me a sarcastic smirk. “Recovered? Ha! My dear, I woke up and instantly found
out I’m hurting on places I didn’t even know I had!”

“O-oh.”

“My head and back are killing me. I busted my hip. My throat feels like someone has
scattered sand into it. I cannot feel my lips anymore and I think I accidentally bit my own
tongue at least six times yesterday night. Six times, Charlie! And my lower abdomen – well
let’s just not talk about that tragic warzone. Good lord!”

“Oh god.” I chuckled, because I couldn’t help myself. “Please tell me that at least your butt
made it out alive. You know I can’t live without it.”

“Well, my dear, I’m afraid I have some bad news for you then.”

I gasped, playing along. “Say it isn’t so!”

“I apologize, but the butt has passed on.”

“Oh no!”

“Oh yes.” Alastor nodded solemnly. “Snatched away in the prime of its life. It will be missed.
So sad.”

“Oh well – I hope it at least went down as gloriously as your dick did last night,” I teasingly
remarked, and oh god, that was a low blow, and maybe I shouldn’t have giggled as much as I
did, but Alastor’s face was just so priceless when it – boom, like that – dawned upon him
what I was talking about.
However, instead of getting over the top distressed and mortified about it, Al remained
relatively calm and collected, clearing his throat with a small, apologetic smile.

“Ah – yes. My… sudden fainting must have given you quite the fright last night. I’m terribly
sorry about that, my love.”

My heart skipped a beat. Oh. O-oh. God. What a cute, slightly embarrassed and handsome
smile that was… and how well he wore it. I knew I was instantly done joking about last
night’s abrupt ending – and shyly smiling back at him, I felt myself warming up with fuzzy
glee in an instant. It seemed like Alastor had learned to put things in perspective a bit – and
for that, I felt incredibly proud of him.

“That’s okay, Al, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re not… uhm, freaking out about it
more.”

He scoffed ironically, rolling his eyes. “Oh that bridge has already been crossed, Charlie,
believe you me. See, that’s the only good thing about fainting: the internal screaming simply
stops at a certain moment.”

I laughed and lightly squeezed his hand. “In any case, Al, I… I had a great time last night.”

“I’m happy to hear that. What can I say – I did my best!”

“Yeah you did.” I beamed at him. “You stallion.”

Al really took this compliment to heart and grinned, wide and somewhat reassured, looking
comically haughty. Then his hand nimbly crept up from my chest, reached my chin and
cheeks and rubbed his fingers over my skin.

“Nothing but the best for you, my darling – that’s what I strive for. Now. How is your body
doing, hmm?”

“Fine – I mean, it’s aching and throbbing and all that, but – I’m fine.” I leaned my face into
his touch, sighing softly. “Nothing that a nice, hot shower and some relaxation can’t fix.”

Al hummed, staring at my lips. “Probably.”

“Probably,” I parroted him, chuckling.

Too enthralled by my mouth, Alastor moved closer to me, guided my face to his and pressed
a single kiss to my lips. He pulled back again rather fast, though.

“Perhaps we should freshen up then, my lov—”

“Wait wait no no, not yet – give me some more, first,” I muttered, pursing my lips and trying
to steal more sweet kisses from him.

Al hummed and readily indulged me for a little while, chuckling and nuzzling into my face as
I lifted his and pressed happy kiss after happy kiss onto his mouth.
At last, he tore himself away from my needy lips and pinched my cheeks. “Alright my dear,
this is all very nice and lovely, but I feel incredibly disgusting – and so do you, no offence.
Why, you’re so sticky! So how about we take a nice shower, hmm? I take it your charming
former bedroom has an adjunct bathroom in this household, too?”

Alastor gave me a strangely fascinated look.

“Y-yeah, it’s behind that one door, over there.” I blinked at him, astonished. “Also, you –
want to take a shower? As in… t-together with me, you mean?”

“Naturally.” He chuckled. “If you don’t mind, that is?”

Oh god, he even said ‘naturally’, as if he never meant to shower on his own in the first place.
This meant I was going to see his beautiful bare butt all wet and glistering and stuff.

Oh HELL yes!

Way too enticed by this great prospect, I beamed at him the most radiant smile I had in my
armory and shook my head so rapidly I worried my head might fly off.

“O-oh no, I don’t mind – taking a shower with you, no complaints here!”

“Excellent. Then off we go, my icky angel!”

He sat up with a vicious crack of his neck and a hard snap coming from his back, slapped the
(bright pink and awfully girly) covers back, quite literally plucked me from the mattress and
amusedly watched me shriek and squirm in his arms for a little while (“O-oh god, Al – not so
fast – I’m still sore – ow!”), before he hugged me to his chest and grandiosely carried me
over to the bathroom.

And he didn’t even flinch in pain all that much while he did so.

LLL

Just outside of Charlotte’s former bedroom I stood, and I waited.

Patiently.

Like a motherfucking saint.

Look I didn’t give a tiny flying rat’s ass about how long I’d have to wait before my rebellious
daughter and her needle-shaped fuckboyfriend would finally have the audacity to get out of
their private little sex shack. Hell, chances were I’d have to wait even longer than I had
anticipated because they could still be going at it, and even then I wouldn’t give a flipping
fuck!

Well no, that’s a big fat lie. I would give a flipping fuck. I would give multiple flipping fucks.
Holy shit – better not think too much about that very reasonable possibility too much,
because were that the truth, I’d flip out and flip some tables and then flip the entire castle and
then I’d fucking rip the intestines out of that smiling piece of shit, blow them up and
make red balloon animals out of them, ha ha ha!

And that would just be unnecessary.

But hey!

Even if they had planned to do nothing but shag each other for the rest of this day, even then,
they had to leave their seedy porn bubble at some point in time, right? They would get
hungry, right? They couldn’t live on bodily fluids alone!

So I’d wait.

I could wait! Oh yes I could wait.

I’m Lucifer Magne, after all. The Light-Bringer. The Morning Star. The Prince of Darkness.

I was used to waiting for the right time to strike.

LLL

Used to waiting or not, I was getting pretty fucking annoyed with having to skulk around the
hallway like a damn stalker, dammit, and I was starting to wonder if it wouldn’t be easier for
me to just go up to Charlotte’s bedroom door, knock on it and let them answer it. And just
when I came to the stunning conclusion that yes, yes, goddammit, that would be way fucking
easier – the door to my dear daughter’s bedroom opened up, because life was a nasty little
bitch like that.

Anyway.

Wanting to make a flourishing and sensational arrival, I skillfully hid myself behind a corner
for a bit and listened to their ongoing talk.

“… and so what is next?” I heard Alasturd ask my daughter, as she soundly closed her
bedroom door. “What should we do, next? I don’t suppose we can simply march up to your
parents and ask for breakfast, now, can we?”

Charlotte let out a lighthearted titter. “Of course we can, Al – didn’t I already tell you mom
knows we stayed over for the night? You bet we can expect a wonderful breakfast waiting for
us downstairs! And after we’ve eaten and said goodbye to my mom, we can return to the
hotel.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” A pause. “You need to tell me some things, after all.”
“I’m well-aware of that. But… does that mean you’re not planning to talk with your parents a
bit more?”

“No,” Charlotte’s huffy answer was – but she sounded unsure. “Why do you ask? You – think
I should?”

Her douchebag lover, on the other hand, sounded deceivingly indifferent. “Well it’s all up to
you of course, my love – but if you’d ask me, I think your parents at the very least deserve
one normal conversation with you, their only daughter. Don’t forget that they were the ones
who threw this party, just for you. Certainly, I might have – tweaked some things here and
there, but ultimately, it were your parents who executed the party. They did all of that for
you, my angelic darling. In the hopes you’d start talking to them again.”

I cursed inwardly. Well crap – now I was too curious of Charlotte’s answer to make my
dramatic entrance!

It stayed quiet for a while. I heard my daughter mutter something and I heard he murmured
something back.

“But he does care about you, my dear.”

More inaudible mumbling.

“No, I’m very sure he does. Now, please don’t cry, sweetheart… raise your pretty face a little
for me, alright? That’s right… why, aren’t you just the most beautiful thing... Here, let me
make you feel a little bit better, hmm…?”

Even more mumbling I couldn’t make anything out of, but this time, it was mixed with
bashful giggling and soon after – I heard sloppy, wet smacking sounds?!

Oh HELL no!

Enough of that!

Determined to end all face-sucking and daughter-hump activities in my sacred hallway, my

royal mace and I instantly stomped around the corner, just in time to give Charlotte (who, in
contrast to the asshole holding her, could actually see me approach them) a huge jumpscare.
Understandably, she made a weird noise, hastily ended her make-out session and pushed her
lover back.

“Dad,” she breathed, wiping her hair and some wet spots from her face. “H-hi.”

The Radio Dipshit turned around at that, smiled cunningly upon seeing me and gave me a
neural nod – not looking even a bit ashamed. “Well, what a coincidence. Good morning,
Sire.”

“And a good morning to you, too!” I sunnily greeted them, but mostly him, walking over to
where they were and slamming my cool, epic apple-and-snake-themed scepter down on the
white tiles with a hard smash. “Now! Alastor! Let’s just address the ugly beast by its name
from here on out, shan’t we? How are things, my man? I believe we haven’t really spoken to
each other in a long time. So tell me! How did fucking my daughter underneath my roof work
out for you? Did you have fun?”

“Dad!” Charlotte gasped right away, her head turning as red as a beet root.

Alastor didn’t budge, however. He just calmly stared at me and thought about what to say.
“Well, I—”

“Really don’t want to hear it, please shut up.” I grinned – and then I gave him a quick look-
over, feeling a little, angry vein twitch near my right eye. “Are those… my clothes you’re
wearing?”

What the fuck? Was he actually wearing my shit? Why the hell was he wearing my shit?

He opened his mouth again. “I didn’t—”

“Again, really don’t want to hear it, please shut up.” I pressed my tongue against the inside of
my lower lip as my smile grew more strained. “I guess screwing my daughter’s brains out
wasn’t enough for you, huh – no no no, nope, you just had to go and nick my clothes as well.
Dick move, Alastor, even for you. What’s next? Are you planning to take my wife away as
well? And then – what, take over the throne? Pump some gross, fucked-up deer babies into
Charlotte and make Alastor World happen? Are you—”

“Excuse me for interrupting your lively little rant, Your Highness, but perhaps you should
consider Charlie’s feelings before you continue making ridiculous, false allegations about
me,” Alastor suddenly intercepted me, his voice impassive, yet decisive. He smiled as
broadly as he always did, but there was no sympathy in his cold grin, just like there was
nothing of that in mine.

I offhandedly peeked at Charlotte, who was standing next to Alastor and shook like a jelly. At
first, I thought she was going to cry some more: my sweet girl had always been a huge
crybaby after all. But no, no tears were visible – all there was for me to see, was an angry
spark flashing behind her dark orbs. I noticed she had started clenching her teeth and fisting
her hands as well.

Huh. Okay, maybe the douchebag had a point. I was getting a bit distracted, truth be told.

I swiftly changed my demeanor and put a hand on the bird nest on top of Charlotte’s head,
ruffling it. “Aw, come on, sweetie, I’m just kidding! Obviously! But then again, put yourself
in my position for a sec: you have to understand my… surprise, right? I mean, shit, you’re
lucky your mother eventually told me about your plan to stay over for the night, because
otherwise – hell, I don’t know what I’d have done otherwise!”

I laughed out loud, but Charlotte didn’t find it funny. She looked very mad, yet she didn’t
push my hand away from her hair. Rather than that, she just glared at me, her eyebrows
lowering themselves so much her eyes almost completely disappeared behind them.

Now that I knew she was angry at me – well nothing new there – I expected her to yell and
nag at me. She always yelled and nagged at me when I had messed things up in her eyes, one
way or another, and while I didn’t really care that much about that anymore and halfheartedly
braced myself for her shrill tirade…

…it – didn’t happen?

Instead of shouting at me, Charlotte actually calmed down again, closing her eyes and
breathing in and out slowly. Alastor, still standing next to her, looked at her with admiration
is his eyes – and slimy asshole or not, the way he silently supported her like that probably
had something to do with my daughter recollecting herself.

“That’s right – it was all my plan, dad. Not Alastor’s.” Charlotte exhaled and gave me a stern
look. “Al just went along with it. I was also the one who gave him those clothes, since his
own got dirty – so there’s no reason for you to blame anything that happened on him. You
understand, dad? I hope you do, because I’d like it if you’d stop behaving like an awful jerk
now.”

I tilted my head to the side, thoroughly fascinated. Slowly, I retracted my hand from my
daughter’s head.

“Huh, how about that.”

She frowned. “How about wha—”

“You’ve grown, haven’t you?”

Now it was Charlotte’s turn to be taken aback. “I – I don’t know.”

“Nah, it’s okay, daughter dear – don’t worry about it.” I shot her a toothy smile. “Oh! And
don’t worry about your precious red rectangle-man either: believe it or not, I actually didn’t
come out here to assault or insult him. Oh no, psssh, nothing of that: I just wanted to talk to
him for a bit. So please forgive me my little outburst back there – that was a big whoopsy
from my side. It’s all water under the bridge now!”

Admittedly, both Alastor and Charlotte were capable of giving the most hilarious bewildered
looks – Charlotte jaw dropped and Alastor’s monocle even fell right out of his eye socket, ha
ha. Also, you’d think I’d feel a little bit hurt or offended by both their low opinions of me,
but yeahhh, I kind of knew myself and I got why they’d be wary of me, especially Alastor, so
I could let it slide.

“You wanted to talk,” Charlotte repeated me.

“To me,” Alastor added.

“Ayup,” I simply said, putting my scepter over my shoulder.

“Okay,” Charlotte said, “what is i—”

“In private, Charlotte.” I stared at Alastor, squinting my eyes at him. “Just the two of us. Just
– me and this lanky guy with the weird Karen-haircut you happen to like so much.”
Alastor didn’t say anything and smiled non-committedly, but he was no dense fool: his
mismatched eyes told me he already knew what I was up to.

My daughter didn’t know, however, and she confusedly looked back and forth to me and
Alastor.

“You – I don’t get it, what is it you exactly want to talk to him about, dad?”

“What are you, the Radio Demon’s bubbly, blonde bodyguard? Are you afraid I might – do
something to him?” I threw my head back and let out a high-pitched laugh. “No worries,
Charlotte! There’s something I’m – curious about. Something I’d like to hear more about. So
I want to take Alastor for a stroll and a chat in the backyard. For an hour or so. Nothing too
special, just two dudes being bro’s.”

“Oh god.” Charlotte graced me with a grim little smile. “I – really don’t think you should use
that phrase in this context, dad.”

I ignored her comment and carried on: “You can have breakfast with your mother in the
meantime. She’s downstairs – and she’s been waiting for a chance to catch up with you, you
know?”

My daughter’s eyes began to increase in size – however, they didn’t exactly light up.
Charlotte was still having doubts about leaving Alastor in my care, no matter how much she,
too, was looking forward to having breakfast with a certain family member she might had
missed more than she was willing to let on.

Yeah, that’s right, I didn’t buy it for a second that sudden horniness was the sole reason why
my daughter had decided to stay over for the night. Just like I didn’t believe Lilith had only
agreed with letting Charlotte and Alastor sleep here because she wanted to do our daughter a
favor.

“I’m not sure…” Charlotte muttered, pressing a hand to her mouth. Her thoughtful eyes
looked up at Alastor questioningly. “What do you think about this, Al?”

“I think it’s alright, my love. As a matter of fact, I also wanted to talk to him. Remember?”
Alastor all but snapped his back as he bent towards Charlotte and pecked her on the forehead.
“You can trust your father.”

Charlotte rolled with her eyes, just like her mother liked to do. “Doubtful, Al.”

She didn’t really seemed to care I could hear all she said, so that stung a little, have to say.

“My darling, if King Lucifer had really wanted to harm me, he had done so already. Don’t
you think so, too? For example, he had plenty of opportunities to attack me last night, yet he
didn’t.” Alastor collected my daughter’s face in his hands and caressed her cheeks. “Or do
you think he’s simply too honorable of a man to assault me at a party and instead rather kill
me in private?”
“A foolish miscalculation that would be!” I very helpfully said. “I’d happily slaughter you at
a party! Hell – if I had wanted to, I had even dragged you out of bed after all the fuckery you
had done to my precious baby girl and finish you off in the presence of her peacefully
snoozing body! That’s just how dishonorable I am!”

“See?” Alastor jovially said. “Nothing to worry about!”

“Nothing at all!” I insisted.

Then both me and Alastor started roaring with fake laughter, making some passing servants
nervously quicken their pace and causing poor Charlotte to get even more confused about
what the ever-loving crap was going on and unsure of what she should decide.

But in the end, since Alastor was convinced I wouldn’t hurt him and since Charlotte really
did crave some mother-daughter quality time, she begrudgingly consented with the idea of
me and Alastor spending some more time together. How fucking lovely.

“Just for an hour though,” Charlotte urged, when Alastor let go of her. “Okay? Just… one
hour.”

“It’s a promise,” Alastor nodded, and waved at her as she started walking away from us.

I simply waited until my wary, darling apple beignet had left the corridor – and then I
immediately smacked my edgy scepter against the Radio Demon’s back.

Hard.

With the big, sharp, leaf-shaped side of the ruby apple on top of the staff pointing forward.

I felt a tremor going through him in response. Good. I hoped it hurt and cut him.

“You’re still a very crafty schemer, I see.” I grinned humorlessly at him when he gave me a
stoic, yet cautious side glance. “Cool beans – now that the offspring has left the stage, we can
talk about some business. Now come with me, you clothes-stealing freakshow.”

LLL

“‘Cause it’s a bittersweet

symphony
that’s life;
Trying to make ends meet
you’re a slave to money then you die;
I’ll take you down the only road
I’ve ever been down;
You know the one that takes you to the places
where all the veins meet, yeah!”
My voice had an upbeat, light ring to it as I sang and took Alastor downstairs. I guided him
through the quaint conservatory connected to the Royal Palace and easily led him into the
backyard. Alastor didn’t have much to say, seemed like… he simply obediently followed my
lead, taking in the surroundings.

I understood why he did so: in a fairly short amount of time, he watched the rooms, spaces
and impressions around him change at a rapid pace. For someone like Alastor, who was used
to Charlotte’s plain, mostly-red hotel, it must have been pretty overwhelming to see all the
different historical styles and time periods Lilith and I had decorated the palace with flit by.
Ah well – that was to be expected. Lilith and I were old beings, after all, and the both of us
were fond of many diverse themes and fads that had come up and died down throughout the
ages.

Not that I actually cared about all that. But still.

“I have to give it to you, Alastor: I had my doubts, but I really did like some of those crazy
90s-songs that were played at the party yesterday night.” I flashed him a big smile as I
stepped outside, holding the door open for him. “Like this one song, for example! What’s it
called again – ‘Bittersweet Symphony’? It’s so very ominous! So foreboding! And the music
stringing along with the lyrics – it’s the cat’s meow! Don’t you agree? Alastor? Hey – don’t
you agree?”

Alastor must have heard the sheer irritation in my voice, because he stopped looking around
the pathway we both had started to walk on and grinned at me.

“I’m thrilled to hear you liked the songs, Sire. Sounds like your taste in music isn’t all too
different from your daughter’s!”

“Ha ha! I guess so! My daughter and I are much alike, after all!” I laughed, strolling along
with him. “Also, since we’re talking about Charlotte: thanks for backing me up back there – I
don’t think my dear daughter would’ve left you in my care otherwise.”

He gave me a humble nod. “It was my—”

“Buuuuuut I originally had planned to brutally shred your sorry body to smithereens in the
backyard, you know? For your information, I really wanted to kill you. Ha ha! I wanted to
kill you soooo badly!”

I stared up at him – by the way, fuck him sideways for being such a tall motherfucker – and
stopped blinking for a moment. I then not-so-very-gently placed my royal mace, that I had
been twirling around and around like a fancy baton ever since leaving the confines of the
palace, to the base of his neck. Now that he wasn’t wearing his usual red attire but mine, the
skin of his throat was exposed, and I noticed the disgusting scars, spread all over it.

Alastor looked down at (or on, who’s to say) me, his eyes filled with disdain – but he was
wise enough to keep that damn smile of his stable.

“Oh? You actually had planned to kill me, Sire? Even with the Princess and the Queen not
agreeing with you on that matter?” he pointed out, blatantly ignoring the razor-sharp leaf
pricking into his thin, vulnerable skin. “You better watch out they don’t spot you threatening
me like this through your oh so humble castle’s windows.”

My upper lip curled. God how tempting it was to just slice his throat like this – to open up
some important veins, to let him helplessly drown in his own blood-soaked voice that he got
off on so much. I knew it wouldn’t matter all that much – kill a sinner with a regular old
weapon and they’d be alive and kicking in Hell the next day anyway – and cutting him down
in that fashion wouldn’t exactly help me, either, but damn if it wouldn’t be fucking satisfying
to see that asshole go like that, at least once.

Alas – with a heavy sigh, I pulled back my scepter and looked away from him.

“Yeah, I get what you’re trying to say: yada yada, think about what Charlotte and Lilith
would think, how they would feel, blah blah, they’d never forgive me, eternal hatred from my
daughter on my ass, etcetera etcetera – all of that, right? You think I’d be fearful of that. Of
their scorn. Right?”

“Yes.”

“No. Wrong.” I immediately corrected him. “So they’d get mad at me. So Charlotte would’ve
hated me for a century or five – whatever, it isn’t like she spent the last couple of centuries
not hating my guts. No Alastor, I wouldn’t care about them losing their love or respect for
me. They’re stuck down here with me either way. Also, no matter what, Lilith is always on
my side – and after a couple of eternities, hell, you bet your fucked-up face that even
Charlotte would eventually want to talk to her father again. You get what I’m saying?”

“I—”

I clacked my tongue. “Of course you don’t, because you’re nothing but a damn human sinner.
We are not human, nor sinners. I’m a fallen Archangel. Lilith is a demonic succubus. And
Charlotte – well, I have no fucking clue what strange, sweet being Charlotte is supposed to
be, half-bred Archangel or not. But she’s no sinner. Heh, that’s one thing I know for sure, and
that’s something you should realize as well, Alastor: Charlotte isn’t a sinner. Do you get what
I mean now?”

But Alastor just looked at me.

I sneered and shook my head. What a fucking joke this guy was.

We approached the big lake. I looked over my shoulder and yes – this area was located at a
decent, safe distance from the Royal Palace. I’m sure not even my luscious Lilith and her
magnificent, spying orbs of passion could spot us here. Looking back at the lake, I spotted
some thick, dark red-and-brown tentacles, sticking out of the grimy, foreboding substance. Its
poisonous feelers felt around themselves and the quay of the lake, diligently searching for
some poor fools to drag into the dark liquid and feast upon.

Oh crap, that reminded me: I still needed to feed poor little Kevin.

“Kevin?” Alastor asked – apparently, I had thought out loud.

“The Kraken,” I explained, pointing my staff at the slithering tentacles.

“Kevin the Kraken,” Alastor concluded, his voice blasé and barely hiding its mocking tone.

“It’s pretty damn catchy, wouldn’t you say so? It’s also alliterating and, on top of that, both
Kevin and Kraken have two syllables in their respectable names/words!” I excitedly told him.
“Wait, hold up a minute – I need to say hi to my wibble Kewwi webbi! The guy need some
hugs! Kevin! Kevin, here I am, my ferocious little man-slaughterer! Let your Apple Daddy
give you some sugar!”

Without waiting for an answer, I tossed my staff into Alastor’s hands and left him on the
sandy pathway, as I took my savvy white top hat by its brim and sprinted towards the lake –
and for the following ten minutes, I made sure to coddle and coo to every single feeler Kevin
had held out. The good boy had recognized its master and its damp, flabby, poop-shaped
upper half of its hideous, brown head jiggled happily with every bit of affection I showered
the creature with.

Meanwhile, Alastor just stood there and watched us from a safe distance.

Upon returning from my cuddly outburst, I was a bit out of breath and maybe my top hat had
a piece of shell chomped out of it – but fuck all of that, I, somehow, still managed to still look
very fucking cool and dashing anyway! Therefore, I granted Alastor a proud, huge grin and
felt even better when I saw he had been absolutely baffled by the scene he had witnessed just
now.

“You sure seem to like Kevin the Kraken,” he said.

“Oh I love Kevin the Kraken,” I declared with a wink, snapping with my fingers and fixing
all of the damage Kevin’s boisterous hugging had done to my clothes and, uhh, my
appearance in general, within the blink of an eye. “I know most people would say that
Kevin’s nothing but an evil, shit-like lump of terror, darkness and – well, fish, but screw all of
them! Kevin is more than all that – and he’s clearly just misunderstood! He deserves a chance
is all!”

Alastor nodded at me, his eyes widening. He had to smile – a sincere smile, by the looks of it.
It almost was as if he wasn’t smiling at me, but at someone else.

“My lord. You’re right. It seems like Charlie really does take a lot after her father!”

I laughed jovially at his friendly remark, rubbing a finger underneath my nose in

embarrassment. “Heh – that’s what I’ve been telling you all along! Now – can you hand me
back my royal mace, please?”

The Radio Demon chuckled and complied, reaching out my scepter towards me—

—and I instantly slapped the thing out of his grip and firmly clutched his hand with
mine, before he saw any chance to pull it back and continue hiding its wound from me.
 “Yeah, you got that right,” I cackled wheezily at him, as I pulled his face close enough to see
his unreadable, stupid grin fade away, “isn’t that just the cutest, Alastor? Isn’t that just
quaint? How lovely that the girl you love so much shares some of her most endearing
character traits with her diabolical asshat of a father! Maybe he’s likable after all, huh?
Maybe, if he shares some similarities with Charlotte, there’s something redeemable about
good ol’ Beelzebub after all – was that what you were thinking, you gullible piece of shit?”

He didn’t quite respond – Alastor was far too occupied with trying to wring his hand out of
my iron grasp. I thought it was pretty impressive he had managed to remain more than
enough of his dignity to somewhat mask his desperation to get his hand out of mine, but it
was no use, really. I had still seen it. I had still noticed it.

I had still felt it.

Chapter End Notes

In a kingdom far far away, there lived a king who used to tell lies everywhere and
anytime. Lying was what he was best at – but he got bored when he didn’t have any new
lies to tell his people anymore. So the King decides to hold a competition to see which
one of his subjects is the best and most creative liar. The winner gets an amazing reward,
or so he promises.
A few days later, the competition is on. Many people try to appease to the King with
their lies, but the King laughs at them and sends them away, knowing that the lies are
nothing but funny stories.
But then, a man comes forth and tells the King the following: “Your Highness, I would
like to inform you that your father has taken a ton of gold from my father as a debt, ages
ago. If this is a lie? Give me the promised reward. If it’s the truth – repay me my father’s
gold.”
The King is impressed and admires the man’s intellect and lying skills. He agrees that
the man most certainly deserves the reward. However, the reward turns out to be nothing
but a box filled with stones!
So in the end, it’s the King who turns out to be the biggest liar – and the one who gets
the biggest laugh out of all of it, just like he had wanted it.

This is a short story I randomly stumbled upon. It’s an old folktale passed through many
generations of people… and that’s all I could find about it! However, in spite of that, I
found it too compelling to ignore, so I decided to use the story anyway.
 The Spider's Thread
Chapter Summary

Alastor finds out the hard way what it feels like to lose control of everything.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

I quirked an eyebrow as Alastor carried on struggling against the tight, vice-like grip I had on
his hand. It was like my hand was on fire and straight-up burned him – that was just how
horrified the look on his face was.

Huh. Well, how about them apples, he really didn’t like to be touched.

“Um, Alastor? You know I’m, like, way stronger than you are, right?” I calmly informed him
after a while, ‘cause he just wouldn’t quit his sad attempts to free himself and it was getting
fucking annoying quickly. “I mean, I don’t want to sound like a douchebag and you seem
inspiringly determined to get out of my clutches, but Al – that’s what my daughter calls you,
right? Al? – as long as I want to hold your filthy, misshapen claw of a hand, I can hold it. And
I will hold it.”

Alastor finally seemed to get the message and stopped squirming and turning his wrist,
unbending his back and showing me a horrid, dreadful and abominable, sick grin on his face.
It seemed to split his entire head in half – and it was just as unsettling to behold as watching
that one, blood-red eye of his change into this weird radio dial-thing.

I gave him an approving smirk back upon seeing all that ugly monstrosity appear on his mug
and whistled lowly, substantially impressed.

“Holy Pops in Heaven, Al – have you ever let my child see that face? That’s fucked up, man,
ha ha.”

He opened up his mouth. “I—”

“But not as fucked up as your deranged plan to get her to Heaven.”

As soon as these words reached him, Alastor simmered down pretty much instantly - and so
did that abysmal, larger-than-life ego of his. It all – poof – deflated, right here in front of me.
He stared at me, silenced, his facial features wiped clean of every bit of emotion, except for
the most beautiful, purest kind of astonishment. He almost looked smaller than me now – and
that’s saying something!

“You knew,” he said at last.

“Yup – but not for too long,” I admitted. “Hell, in all honesty, I only found out about your
ridiculous plan yesterday. You see, my brother Gabe told me he heard that Angel No.
9918233423645242537, or Hakim, or Bob, as he apparently is called now, is still alive.”

Alastor got this blank stare again and didn’t reply.

I continued: “Now I had thought the poor Angel-guy-man had met his untimely death at your
hands, you see, back in Hyde Park, so I was – so confused! But then, I actually tried to fit all
of the pieces together of this lame blackmail-puzzle you left me with for the past few
months… and then it suddenly just – clicked.”

Alastor still didn’t budge.

“You didn’t need Hakim – well I guess it’s Bob now, huh – to get yourself a ticket to Heaven.
You needed him to arrange one for Charlotte.” I groaned. “Ugghhh, I can’t believe I didn’t
realize that sooner. With sending my darling, naïve daughter up to Paradise, the last hurdle
that could possibly stop you from taking over Hell and burning everything down for your
own twisted amusement, will be gone. It’s so totally obvious now!”

“No,” he responded, in a typical spur-of-the-moment manner. “You’re wrong. It’s not like
that. I love her. I – I love Charlie.”

I wasn’t impressed by his so-called heartfelt confession and snorted sarcastically. “Love?
Okay pal – I’m willing to believe you care enough about my baby girl to at least get her out
of the path of all the death and destruction you’ve been planning to rain upon Hell – but
damn, Alastor, killing off all of Hell’s inhabitants but her – that’s not love, that’s just first
stabbing and then twisting a fucking knife in her back! You know how she is, right? Little
Miss I’m-Going-To-Save-Everyone’s-Ungrateful-Ass-With-My-Dumb-Hotel?”

“I told you, that’s not what I've been—”

For what seemed to be the umpteenth time, I sighed and had to interrupt his jabbering.
“Forget it, Alastor, it doesn’t matter what you've been planning! It’s not going to fucking
happen anyway!”

Alastor looked at me, unfazed. Seemed like some of his old bravado had resurfaced.

“I can’t be bothered with what your stance is on this matter, Your Highness. Why – I couldn’t
care less, even. You’re not going to stop me.”

Oh, oh ho ho ho, fuck this guy, I swear!

“Are you listening to me? Wait, let me rephrase that – have you been listening to me at all?” I
spread my eyes open wide at him. “What have I been telling you, right from the moment we
started having this fucking lovely walk-and-talk? Let me break it down for you one last time,
from the fucking top: like me and Lilith, Charlotte is something completely different from
you, a mere, weak, human sinner. She’s lived forever, just like me and Lilith have, and we
will continue to do so, because that’s just what we have to fucking do! That’s Hell for you!
Charlotte is no sinner – and I’m not just saying that because my daughter the is nicest thing in
Hell since those taco’s Mike can’t shut his trap about – no, I’m saying that because this
means she cannot be redeemed!”

Alastor hesitated. “ I see. But—”

“But what? You honestly believed that she, a good-hearted, yet inhuman creature, could get
'salvation' anyway? Did Bob say so?” I grinned and almost felt pity for him. “Geez, hate to
burst your bubble, Al, but Bob is just a small-fry who doesn’t know shit. He and you might
both believe you can get my daughter up to Heaven, but that’s just because you want to
believe you can grand her Eternal Paradise. You want to believe that there is a way to get her
hybrid butt redeemed to Kingdom Come. Let me guess – Bob gave you all these strange
conditions Charlotte needs to meet first, right? Like most human sinners need to meet, in
order to face an Angel. That’s cute – but it she is no sinner! She’s not human! So it’s
bullshit, Alastor. It’s all such bullshit. Bob’s fucking grasping at straws, like you are.”

“Like I am?” Alastor tonelessly repeated my words.

“You're dying, aren’t you?” I pointedly said.

He was a clever, insightful guy, he had expected me to drop that bomb sooner or later, I’m
sure – but it gave him quite a shock nevertheless, hearing me say it out loud like that.
Snickering, I watched most of the color drain out of his already ashen-gray face.

“I might be,” he admitted.

“No, not ‘might be’. You are dying. You have the Mark of the Fallen on your hand – pfft,
looks like someone underestimated Bob, huh? You have about two months left to live.” I let
go of his hand, took out a handkerchief and wiped the Alastor-germs off of my own hand,
scrunching up my nose in disgust. “Maybe you have a bit longer than that, since my waning
angelic powers aren’t as strong or as reliable as they used to be, but still. Your time in Hell is
running out, bucko.”

“Two months. That’s… much shorter than I had anticipated,” Alastor said.

“Shit – and hubris – happens, Al. Never forget that at the end of the day, you’re nothing but a
dead man walking.”

“Clearly,” he muttered. “Well. I suppose that explains why you’re no longer interested in
killing me.”

I shrugged and beckoned him to come a little closer; it had almost been a whole hour already
and we had to go back to the palace. His/my clothes, that clearly were a bit too short and too
tight for him in certain areas, looked a little ruffled though – and we couldn’t have that, now.
No, I had to show my dear Charlotte that I hadn’t hurt her spindly deer man!

“Why kill you if you’re going to give up the ghost in two months anyway?” I breezily told
him as I dusted him off. “Turn around a little – yes, thank youuuu. I mean, hell, sure, I could
pull out a Heavenly spear and stab you through the heart right this instant, but then I’d have
to wait for such a long time before Charlotte would be willing to talk to me again... and I just
don’t want to do that. Not if there’s a better alternative. So instead of murdering you now and
suffer from the tedious consequences, I’ll just patiently sit these final two months out instead.
I mean, the end result will be the same anyway: you’ll die and you’ll get absorbed by the
Void. And afterwards, all that there's left for me to do is be there for my poor, grieving
daughter, 'cause I guess she’ll need a shoulder to cry on. You get what I’m saying? That way,
I can both be a great father as I can get rid of you, without dirtying my hands! See how that
works out for me!”

Alastor didn’t seem to like the way I was practically roughhousing him while getting the
wrinkles out of his/my ill-fitting clothing, but he didn’t complain. I bet there was a whole lot
more going through his head than the fact I was going to let him live for convenient and
utterly selfish reasons. He just didn’t have much to say. Then again, what was left to say,
really?

“Oh, and another thing,” I said, fixing the front of his/my vest, “I’ve watched you and my
brothers interact yesterday evening – you know, before you decided to pork my daughter like
the swine you are – and let me tell you, you’re wasting your time. Using Charlotte to suck up
to my brothers and try to get your gritty hands on God’s Horn? That won’t save your pathetic
afterlife. Want to know why?”

I raised my face and met his.

“It doesn’t exist. God’s Horn is nothing but a myth, a popular rumor – and you can ask my
brothers if you don’t believe me.”

Had to give credit where credit’s due: it was praiseworthy how well Alastor knew to maintain
and suppress his undoubtedly howling feelings right now. Shit, I had just mercilessly
obliterated every bit of hope the guy had of 'redeeming' Charlotte and I basically told him
everything he had been doing up to this point to save his own hide was for naught, and yet he
still was able to hold that motherfucking smile on his face, even if the smile had never looked
more worn-out than it did now.

“I see,” he weakly said. “So it’s impossible to escape the Void.”

“Oh, you bet. The Void is ruthless, really – it’s like this big, black area of nothing, totally
devoid of light, materials and sounds. It’s despair in its final, most frightening form – a form
that ultimately devours everything that lingers around in it whole, even the mere memory of
people, their souls and objects. Everything – poof, gone. Just like that. Every heartbeat, every
emotion, every thought. Everything that’s good and everything that’s evil. Everything that
holds any meaning. Everything that doesn’t. And my damn car keys. Can you imagine my
frustration – I had been looking for them all over the place and then I found them in there of
all places! And then they disappeared, right as I was staring at them! So fucking frustrating, I
really needed those metal sons of bitches!”

I shook my head and peeked over my shoulder, to the Royal Palace, before swiftly planting a
nudging elbow into Alastor’s side. It was getting late, after all.

“But hey, come on, let’s return to the others now. It’s almost time and I don’t feel like getting
scolded by my dear Charlotte.”
Alastor made an agreeing sound – I think – and tagged along with me, in absolute silence.

LLL

I had never thought I’d ever say this, but on our way back to the castle, I learned that there
apparently was something that got even more on my nerves than a regular, wisecracking
Alastor – and that was a gloomy, muted Alastor. Even his damn invisible radio audience, that
had constantly (and anxiously) been crackling in the background during our little chat, was
not giving even the softest buzz or peep anymore.

Fucking unnerving, dammit! I was an outgoing and rambunctious kind of guy – I couldn’t
stand silence, not even when it was the result of something I had done. I needed noise!
Sounds! Commotion! Voices! Anything but nothing!

And it was still a pretty lengthy walk back to the girls, too!

Just my fucking luck!

Bemoaning the rest of my boring walk and cursing inwardly, I glanced to the side, to where
Alastor was walking. He had an indescribable look on his face as he held up his hurt hand
and stared at the cross on the back of it. I wanted to make a comment on that, first... but then,
there was something else that happened to catch my attention: a red ribbon or something, tied
to his ring finger. I hadn’t really taken notice of it before, but come to think of it, yeah – he
had been walking around with that stupid thing looped around his finger for a long time now,
hadn’t he?

What was up with that?

“You're talking about this bookmarker?” Alastor said when I asked him about it. “Ah, well.
It's a promise between me and your daughter.”

“I know a sappy, stupid promise when I see one,” I roared, relieved he at least was making
bothersome sounds come out of his bullshit-spreading mouth again. “Did my dear Charlotte
wrap your finger up like that?”

“She did.”

I chuckled. “Knew it. Why did she do that, though? Does she – pfft – wants to marry your
lying, bony ass or something?”

“She does.”

Always the thoughtful adult, I ceased my snickering and yipped out loud instead, like a dog
that just got kicked in the rear. Subsequentely, I gripped my chest and started to gurgle,
clawing at Alastor’s arm and burrowing my nails into his flesh so viciously Alastor actually
visibly flinched at it. He even had to stop walking for a moment.

“She- Charlotte – wants to marry you?!”

“That’s what I said, Sire.”

“But WHY?”

“Because she loves me.”

“But WHY?”

“Because she wants me to be with her always.”

“But WHY?”

“Because Charlie’s a helpless romantic like that. And she probably purely acted on her
emotions.”

“But WHY?”

“Because I was too… slow, too foolish and too frightened of what could come, to be the one
to ask her, first. She beat me to it.”

“But WH—”

“Not this time, though.” Alastor muttered. “This might come in handy.”

Before I could spit out another agonizing ‘but why’, the slowly decaying deer demon
abruptly smacked his hands on my shoulders, giving me the most unsmiling and piercing
stare he given me all day – and that’s counting the distressful look of earlier.

“Your Highness, will you let me?”

I really, really didn’t like the direction my looping whines had taken me into and I gaped at
the Radio Demon, completely stupefied. No, for real: my mouth was wide open, but I
couldn’t form words anymore. Bugs were able to fly right in and out of it just fine though.
My jaw had gotten so unhinged, I wouldn’t be surprised if Alastor was staring straight at my
tonsils at this very moment. I bet they looked inflamed.

“What,” I accomplished croaking out.

“King Lucifer Magne,” Alastor hastily started over again, taking in a deep breath, “will you
allow me, Alastor, to have Charlie’s – Princess Charlotte Magne’s hand in marriage?”

What?

What?

WHAT?

This sad asshole had just heard he wasn’t going to give my daughter the Heavenly salvation
she deserved and that he, plus the mere memory of him, was going to fade away. He was
going to die a very horrible, painful and useless death. His plan had failed. ALL of his
elaborate plans and schemes had failed, spectacularly and magnificently – and yet, this was
what was on his fucking mind?

What the fuck was wrong with this guy?!

CcC

With many conflicting feelings, I slowly approached the door leading to the dining room.

So. For the first time in ages, I was going to have breakfast with my mother again.

Huh… I mean… it had been such a long time ago, I could hardly recall the last time I had
breakfast with her. Not because it had been a while since I had moved out of the castle (that
wasn’t really the case), but because… well…

Mom and dad just – didn’t have breakfast with me.

Sure, when I was still a kid and mom and dad were still my heroes, we used to always eat
breakfast together, first thing in the morning. It was normal to have my dad wake me up, lift
me up, plop me down on his shoulders and take me downstairs, where mom would be waiting
at a richly-filled breakfast table. I’d sit in-between my parents, happily stuff my face with
everything I loved to eat, and mom and dad would talk about what was on the schedule for
the three of us that day, and they'd clean my face, and – and I don’t know, things just seemed
so much simpler back then. Better.

At some point, when I got older, much changed all of a sudden. Not my dad, but Razzle and
Dazzle would come wake me up and take me downstairs. And not my mom would be waiting
for me at that table, but – nobody. Just… plain nobody. I’d eat breakfast at this big,
intimidating table all by myself, get my face all smudged up, realize that there was no one
around who’d wipe my face and that it could take many hours before somebody would
finally point out my sloppy face to me – and I’d feel miserable.

So – so miserable.

Later, I learned that mom and dad apparently had decided overnight that I had gotten old
enough to eat by myself... and to be left by myself. They were busy elites, the rulers of Hell
even, and there were much more important things that required their attention than humoring
their spoiled daughter. Besides, they probably had gotten fed up with me at this point in time.
They knew I was different from most sinners and hell-spawns and I bet they were mortified
to find out just how unusual and weird I was, because of my… everything. I rather not think
about it too much, but it wouldn’t come as a surprise to me if they told me they just couldn’t
stand spending more time with me, their failure of a daughter, than was absolutely needed.

I’m not sure this really was the case.

But I had grown to fear that there was another, even worse reason behind their sudden loss of
interest in me – and so I never asked them.
I sighed and smacked myself on the cheeks. Alright Charlie – enough of that moping around!
Things are different now! Your parents are now desperate for your attention – so desperate
that mom even wants to have breakfast with you, just like old times!

I briefly, yet heavily inhaled air through my nose, and then I opened the door.

CcC

Inside the room, my mother was waiting for me.

“There you are. Good morning, my dear apple beignet,” she immediately greeted me as I
closed the door behind me.

Upon seeing her sitting there, and smelling all the lovely smells, nostalgia and bittersweet
melancholy filled up my already weakened mind, out of nowhere. I bit my lower lip, fighting
against the tears that were trying to seep out of my eyes.

“H-hi, mom. Good morning to you, too.”

“Look, Charlie,” my mother said after a short silence, standing up from her chair and
pointing awkwardly at all the fruit, bread, eggs and what-not displayed on the table, not
noticing my distress, “it’s breakfast.”

“Yes, it’s breakfast,” I acknowledged the feast.

“I wish I could tell you I made all of this, but that isn’t so. I let the servants make this.”

“That’s alright, mom.”

“I did help with the preperations.”

“Oh, what did you do?”

“I looked on.”

“Ah.”

“I also gently threatened the maids that didn’t polish our plates and cutlery efficiently
enough. With a fork. You know which one.”

“Way to go, mom.”

“And look, I even let them make cinnamon buns. For you.” My mother had a ridiculously
straight face as she pulled out a cutesy little basket with a big, pink bow strapped on it out of
the heap of food, which was filled to the brim with delicious cinnamon buns. “You like
cinnamon buns, don’t you?”

I chuckled weakly. “I love cinnamon buns.”

“Yes. Of course you do. And of course I knew this, because I am your mother.” Still, mom
seemed very relieved when she sat down again and gestured to the seat next to hers. “Sit
down, sweetie.”

I did just that – and I let my mother chuck the abundance of cinnamon buns on my plate.

“Now Charlie,” she said afterwards, sitting down and neatly folding a napkin on her lap,
“how was all the sex you had last night?”

Understandably, I nearly choked into the very first bite of cinnamon bun and had to gulp
down a full glass of milk before I was able to reply to her. In the meantime, my unconcerned
mother very helpfully patted me on the back.

“Ah. I knew you’d appreciate some milk as well,” she said, nodding contently. “There’s
nothing like a fresh glass of milk after such a busy night. Your father is just the same.”

“Mom!” I finally wheezed, “you can’t just – ask me about sex all of a sudden!”

She batted her huge, purple eyes at me. “Didn’t you have sex last night, then?”

“I – well – y-yes, of course I did—”

“Wasn’t it to your liking, perhaps? That’s no good. You know what could happen if you get –
frustrated. In more ways than one.”

“No –yes – I mean – mom – it… it was very much to my liking…”

“Now, was that so hard to say?” mom asked, tsssk-ing and sounding a bit insulted. “For
Hell’s sake, Charlie, it’s just the two of us in here anyway – and it’s not like I asked you to
describe to me in technicolor if and how you milked Alastor dry last night.”

Milked him dry – oh my god. I blushed, rubbing my also reddened neck. “Y-you didn’t ask
me that, no.”

“…did you though?”

My limbs flubbed and I accidentally sent a cinnamon bun flying in the process. “Mom!”

“I want to know,” mom sternly replied, as her eyes followed the airborne cinnamon bun, even
as it crashed down into a bowl of gruel, splattering bits of white goo everywhere. “so did
you?”

I huffed and took another cinnamon bun, staring fiercely at it. “This is insane, mom. I can’t
believe we’re having this conversation. It’s embarrassing.”

My mom sighed, backing out a little. “Alright, alright, I admit I may have gone a bit overboa
—”

“I made him faint.”

She shut up right away and leaned on her elbows, waiting for me to carry on.

I swallowed. It was unbelievably embarrassing for me to share this intimate stuff with my
mother, but, at the same time, it was so very nice to have her full attention, for once.
Naturally I had her full attention – I was talking about her favorite topic, after all.
Automatically, I started to ramble.

“I… wanted to – you know – perform oral sex on him, and at first he was like ‘oh my dear
god no Charlie gross I’ll die’ and then I was like ‘okay then I won’t’ and then he was like ‘oh
but wait maybe I do want to try it out anyway’ and then I was like ‘OKAY THEN I WILL’
and then I put his dick in my mouth and he kind of passed out.”

I verbal-projectile-vomited it all out, just like that. Then I watched my mom again.

Her mouth twitched. “You… let a full-grown man and one of the more dangerous tyrants of
Hell pass out during sex.”

I shuddered. “Yes.”

“Sounds like you and I have more in common than I thought.”

“Yeah – wait, what?”

“Oh, nothing, dear.” Mom pinched my cheek with two sharp fingers. “My little sinner-
sucking slayer! I’m so proud of you!”

“Oh shit, mom, please don’t ever call me that again,” I nervously said – but giggled
nevertheless.

And then something bizarre happened: my mother began to chuckle as well! There first was a
slight smile appearing on her usually so disinterested face, then her dark lips opened up and
after that, actual laughing noises came from her mouth! She even thought it was better to
bring a hand to her face and shield her giggling from my stunned face – it was such an
unusual occurrence, she believed that me watching her laugh was embarrassing, for some
reason!

But not for long: seeing her like this was so strange and yet so endearingly contagious – I
found myself bursting out in laughter as well, and it wasn’t before long that the already very
comfortable and easy-going mood in the dining room grew even more pleasant. Our wheezy,
high-pitched giggles and sniggers even attracted the attention of a couple of butlers, who
came to check on us, and the fit of laughter lasted long enough to leave the both of us teary-
eyed and breathless.

My ribs hurt and I couldn’t see well anymore, but I didn’t give a damn about that: it was all
worth it, because I had just shared a laugh with my mother! We had laughed at something –
together! God – I couldn’t recall when the last time was that had happened, but I enjoyed it
so much it almost made me tear up for a third time (and for yet another, totally different
reason).
Did this mean that there still was a connection between us after all? Was there… still some
hope left for us?

CcC

Of course, at a certain point, the laughter grew less and less, until it totally stopped.

But that was alright! The amiable atmosphere in the bright room remained – and my mom
and I actually had a light-hearted conversation about this and that and so-and-so as we ate
breakfast. During our time together, I even managed to eat some delicious cinnamon buns
without almost suffocating in them (or throwing them around the room), and since I was a
shaky, nervous mess that feared the nice absurdity of this moment could be over at any given
moment, I barely allowed myself to really savor the taste.

It was sweet though.

And god, how much I craved sweet things!

My mother was still smiling when she watched me swallowing the last bits of the sixth
cinnamon bun, tilting her head a bit.

“My! It seems that I had forgotten just how big of an appetite you have.”

I looked at her and her questioning eyes, and I felt a bit flustered, picking the sugary bits of
the just-devoured bun off my cheeks with the tips of my fingers and putting them in my
mouth.

“Uhm, I don’t always have such a big appetite. It’s just that – well, apparently, I sometimes
just… get like this, when there’s food I really love around. I – can’t really help it. It’s usually
sugary food.”

“Is that so,” my mother said, eyeing me up and down. “Interesting.”

Feeling a bit self-conscious, I pulled the pink shirt I had slipped into this morning further
down. “Is that wrong? You think I should – cut back on the sugar?”

Instead of answering me, my mother simply shook her head, shoved her chair closer to mine
and turned my face her way. I thought I was going to cry for another, fourth time when she
took my napkin from the table and started rubbing the smudgy cinnamon leftovers from my
chin and cheeks. She – rubbed a bit too harshly and it stung, because mom was just - no good
at being a mom, but it was that same feeling I had missed for so very long – and I tried to sit
as still as possible.

I didn’t want to ruin it.

I really didn’t want to ruin it.

But the question popped out before I realized it.

“Why did you and dad stopped eating breakfast with me? Stopped… doing fun things with
me in general?”

My mother’s concentrated gaze went from my sticky mouth to my eyes.

Suddenly feeling worried about what she’d say and regretting my question, I backpedaled
and stuttered: “Oh, you… don’t really have to answer that, I’m sure you and dad had a very
good reason to—”

“To protect you, Charlie.” Mom frowned as she attempted to rub a very persistent bit of sugar
off my face. “You were such an adorable girl when you were young – well, you still are, you
are me and your father’s child after all – but you were also so very weak. So vulnerable. So
gullible. You didn’t have a mind of your own and you didn’t have a single mean bone in your
happy-go-lucky body, so there was a very real and possible threat of you getting kidnapped
by your father’s enemies one day.”

“And you thought that just – leaving me on my own would lessen that threat,” I said, a bit
testier than I had wanted to sound. “Because that’s obviously the right thing to do, when your
teen daughter can possibly get kidnapped: just… ignore and avoid her.”

“Yes.” My mom put away the napkin she had cleaned my face with and sat up some more.
“Naturally.”

I felt I was getting angry. “What do you mean, ‘naturally’? There was nothing ‘natural’ about
that!”

My mom didn’t like the tone my voice had gotten and her expression grew colder. Her smile
disappeared, too.

“Charlie, need I remind you of where you live? This isn’t Paradise. This is Hell. The
Underworld. You already were an odd duck and easy target in this world because of your
kind and forgiving nature, and the last thing your father and I wanted to do was tarnishing
you even further. We didn’t want to encourage you to – get used to nice things, because Hell
isn’t a nice place to begin with.”

“Okay, fine, but that doesn’t explain why you both suddenly – left me. Hypothetically
speaking.”

She rolled with her eyes, already getting tired of this conversation now that it was taking a
less-pleasant turn. “We did that on purpose of course, my little apple beignet, to make the
dangerous individuals in Hell believe we were ashamed of you. If we’d let your daddy’s
enemies think you were worthless in our eyes, they no longer would try to kidnap you. You’d
be safe. You’d grow stronger. You—”

“No. Cut it out. Your aloof attitude towards me did not make me feel safer or stronger.” I
stared at her, my lips twitching helplessly. “I was lonely, mom.”

My mother’s eyes softened a bit at that. “You felt lonely? Even with Razzle and Dazzle?”
“I didn’t feel lonely. I was lonely. You think two cute, but quiet goat bodyguards could fill up
the glaring gap you and dad left behind? Really? Jesus, mom, I thought you and dad – didn’t
like me anymore.”

“But of course your father and I still liked you, silly girl. Like I said – it was all just a ruse,
Charlie, to protect the Princess and future ruler of Hell from harm.” Mom seemed confused
and even slightly distraught when she saw my face. “What’s the matter? Why are you upset?
It worked, did it not? By the time you came of age and went your own way, nobody in Hell
cared about you anymore.”

I—

I wanted to say something, sooo badly, but I was afraid the things I’d say would be as
poisonous and as destructive as I felt they were – so I remained silent and looked away from
her.

The air around us had gotten thick and polluted with our words, drifting around the room like
dark thunderclouds, filled with tension and frustration. My stoic mother, who never was a
champion at reading a room in the first place (sadly enough), still thought we could carry on
our breakfast together and tried to start a new topic: my Heavenly uncles.

“Michael, Gabriel and Raphael stayed over for the night as well,” I heard her say, while I
began to fidget with the tablecloth. “Shall I send a servant to summon them? I’m sure they’d
love to share a meal with their one and only niece. That will brighten your mood.”

“No,” I said, with clenched teeth. “I’m sorry, but I – I just want to go home now. I hope dad
and Al will return from their walk soon.”

“Will they brighten your mood?”

“Al will.”

My mother clacked her tongue, which told me she had about enough of my rebellious
behavior. “Oh, really now?”

“Yes, really,” I huffed.

“You think Alastor will lift your mood? The one man who’s been expertly lying, scheming
and manipulating you behind your back all this time – he, of all people, will cheer you up?”

What the actual hell?!

I snapped my head up and glared at my mother. “What a horrible thing to say! Alastor isn’t…
he…”

The words I had intended to spit at her died a quick and lackluster death in my mouth as I
noticed the expression on my mother’s face. She didn’t give me a stern, defiant or belittling
look, but she seemed to be – shocked at herself, at her words. Her eyebrows were raised up
high, her rapidly-fluttering eyes refused to meet mine and I even thought I saw a hint of pink
appearing on her delicate cheeks.
 My heart started to race and for a moment, I didn’t hear or see anything else anymore – not
my noisy uncles, who suddenly entered the dining room, nor my father and Alastor, who had
also decided to choose this exact moment to join us for breakfast.

It should have made me feel happy and delighted: finally! A breakfast with everybody I
considered my loved ones – my family. How wonderful. How lovely.

But all I saw was my mother’s guilt-ridden face.

Chapter End Notes

During one of Shakyamuni’s (Buddha's other name) strolls around Paradise, he stops
near a pond. Between the lilies drifting on the water, he can see the depths of Hell… and
his eyes meet those of the sinner Kandata.
In life, Kandata was a hardened and awful criminal with only one good deed to his
name: he had once spared the life of a single spider when he was about to crush the little
creature. Shakyamuni is so moved and impressed by this rare act of kindness that he
decides to lower a silver thread of a spider in Paradise into Hell.
Meanwhile, down in the ghastly pits of Hell, Kandata sees the silvery thread descending
towards him – and the criminal doesn’t hesitate for a second: he grabs the thread with
everything he has and starts to climb upwards, to Paradise. It’s a pretty tough climb to
Paradise though, and he stops halfway, glancing downwards. Upon realizing he might
actually reach Heaven and seeing just how far he has come already, he starts to laugh at
the other sinners… but his laughter stops instantly when he watches the others climb the
spider’s thread as well! He fears the thread might break by all the extra weight and yells
at the other degenerates: “This thread is mine and mine only!”
Immediately, the thread breaks – and Kandata plummets back into Hell, together will all
the others. Shakyamuni sees all of this and sighs: he had expected Kandata to only be
concerned by his own salvation and not that of others, but it’s still kind of sad for him to
witness. Then he continues his walk.

The Japanese writer Ryunosuke Akutagawa (1892 – 1927) based this short story on a
fable by the Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821 – 1881), called ‘The Fable of
the Onion’. It’s largely the same thing, but the evil man described in Akutagawa’s story
is a woman in Dostoevsky’s work and the spider’s thread is… well, an onion.
 The Boy Who Cried Wolf
Chapter Summary

Alastor tells Charlie something she really doesn't want to hear.

Chapter Notes

Songs used in this chapter:

'Wannabe' by the Spice Girls
'Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm' by Crash Test Dummies
'Losing My Religion' by R.E.M.
'Tearin' Up My Heart' by *NSYNC

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Much to my chagrin, it took me far too long to realize something was horribly amiss, when
Lucifer and I returned from our walk in the backyard.

Was it because of the subjects we had spoken about? Perhaps. Was it because I happened to
have… quite some problems gnawing on my already troubled mind at the moment? Could
be. Was it because I was simply tired, which was the logical end result of certain... activities
that had taken place, the night before? Possibly.

But what a strange ambiance there was, in the dining room.

Like I said, it took my numbed brain a while to recover a little and truly become vividly
aware of the mood – because as soon as Lucifer, Charlie’s Heavenly uncles and I joined my
darling lover and her mother for breakfast, a mild case of controlled chaos broke out,
temporarily concealing the obvious tenseness in the room.

It turned out that Archangel Michael was too broad to fit in any of the antique chairs
stationed in the dining room, so servants kept coming in and out to let the enormously buff
Archangel try out diverse kinds of chairs (collected from all over the palace), in the hopes to
find one that would be to Michael’s difficult rear’s liking.

Meanwhile, Archangel Gabriel wanted to have the last cinnamon bun, but so did Archangel
Raphael. He and his brother then decided to solve the heated (well not exactly heated, but
still rather… warm) dispute by playing rocks-papers-scissors. They were now comparing
pieces of food and cutlery to one another to see what would fittingly resemble a rock, a piece
of paper and a pair of scissors. I tried to reason with them by pointing out they could just use
their hands for that game, but this was quickly dismissed, since the two of them found this a
ridiculous idea.

“I am blind, sinner ma- I mean, Alastor,” Raphael solemnly said, as if this was news to me.
“So how will using our hands help me find out which one of the three available choices my
honorable brother makes?”

“You could – well, say – just play the game and feel what form his hand makes, afterwards?”
I matter-of-factly suggested. “Also, I’m sitting on your right side, Mister Raphael. You’re
currently calling Lucifer Alastor.”

“And please don’t call Lucifer Alastor, you blind bat,” Lucifer growled, instinctively
squeezing the soft-boiled egg he had just taken from a bowl to mush. “Eww. Goddammit –
now I have slimy, sticky goo all over me!”

“That is what she said,” Gabriel winked to Charlie.

Charlie didn’t react.

“Ha!” Raphael said to no one in particular – and turned towards me, not-accidentally
whacking Lucifer in the disgruntled face with his robust wings in the process (“Ow – now I
got feathers in my egg-pulp, you damn sightless son of a—!”). “Why, young man, you think
Gabe would not change his handshape, if I happened to win this thrilling contest? Do you
sincerely believe he would not sink to the lowest of depths, if only to get his hands on the
item he so desires?”

“Now that is just rude, Raph,” Gabriel calmly intercepted, already halfway through eating the
last cinnamon bun. “I would never do such a thing.”

“Is that cinnamon I smell on your breath, dear brother, or is this simply the scent dirty
cheaters emit by default?”

“It is the scent of you, losing. Should be a familiar scent.”

Raphael smiled eerily and scooped up a gracious portion of butter with his bare hands.
“Allow me to smudge this creamy broth into your hair, you horrible, horrible person.”

His brother sighed in defeat – and then shoved Lucifer closer to the other sibling.

Who started to scream, of course: “Hey, what are you— GAH— I’m NOT – would you
STOP SMEARING BUTTER ON ME, you SHUT-EYED FUCK!”

I looked on, shaking my head in amused disbelieve as Raphael, Gabriel and Lucifer engaged
into a small, yet fierce and disgusting food fight, and I considered myself incredibly fortunate
that neither Charlie nor I had any siblings. Family gatherings at the Magne’s place were
rampageous enough as they were already, by the looks of it. Not to mention downright
destructive.

But enough about them – for many reasons, I had it about up to here with everybody even
remotely related to that godforsaken Lucifer.
…well.

Almost everybody.

I stopped watching the Heavenly brothers assault one another with mugs, salt shakers and
peanut butter jars and rested my gaze on Charlie instead, who was sitting on my other side.
Amid the brotherly bickering and munching, she and her mother had remained – remarkably
clammed up and passive. Charlie had been staring at her empty plate for a while now, and
Lilith had skillfully decimated a paper tissue to nothing but small, white shreds of junk.

They both looked terribly pale.

Worried, I took Charlie’s hand from her lap and gave it a tender squeeze.

“What’s the matter, my love? Are you still feeling conflicted about the walk and chat your
father and I had?”

She raised her eyes in order to let them greet my own. “Oh, uhm, Al…”

“Don’t be!” I forced myself to grin and brought the back of her cold hand to my mouth,
kissing it. “I have to admit the topics we talked about were pretty – grueling, but it had a very
satisfying conclusion, I have to say!”

His Royal Majesty momentarily forgot about all the egg and butter that was sadly wasted on
him and threw me a urgent look, hissing: “No – NO! I know I said I won’t stop you outside,
but you’re NOT asking her HERE, not NOW! I fucking FORBID it! Ask her here and I
swear on my Pops’ toes that I’ll choke you with a Swedish cracker!”

“…you mean knäckebröd?”

“I KNOW WHAT I SAID!”

“Threating me with knäckebröd. My, how very frightening,” I chuckled. “You hear that,
Charlie?”

Charlie, however, didn’t see the humor in all of this and looked more irritated than curious, I
had to say.

“Ask me what?" she wanted to know. "What does dad mean?"

I simply shook my head and smiled affably, removing some leftover sugar from the corners
of her lips with my thumb and licking the digit clean right after. “It’s nothing you should
worry yourself about, my dear. I’ll tell you all about it later, hmm…? I’m sure you’ll like it!”

Normally, this daring flirtation would have given me a very deep, slightly excited blush from
her as a reward. Charlie always looked so insufferably adorable and attractive when that
beautiful, porcelain skin of hers was decorated with the most mesmerizing shades of pink and
red, letting me know exactly what she felt and what went through her head when she flushed
and smiled like that…
…but this time, she just looked at me with big, perturbed eyes, her expression displaying a
level of distress that threw me off, made me want to start a portion of this day all over again.
My darling didn’t look like this before Lucifer and I went on our walk. She had been…
content, at ease. She had been smiling back then. But now…

What had happened when I was gone? What, exactly, had she discussed with Lilith? Why did
it make her look like – this?

“Charlie?” I felt my smile shrinking considerably. “In all seriousness, sweetheart – are you
alright? Do you feel ill, perhaps?”

Charlie shook her head, but didn’t stop me from checking her forehead anyway. She wasn’t
feeling hot, I concluded, but she still looked like she could get sick any moment now.

“I’m not sick, I – I just want to go back to the hotel, that’s all,” Charlie said, as soon as I
removed my hand from her face, and she slipped off of her chair. “I’ll go call Husk to tell him
he can come pick us up, alright? Will you go fetch our clothes upstairs in the meantime,
Alastor?”

“That’s not necessary,” Lilith quickly said, finally opening her mouth. “I’ll take care of your
clothes for you and have them delivered at your hotel later. Don’t worry about it.”

Charlie beamed a weak grin at her mother. “No, mom. You don’t have to wash our things.
And don’t feel too bad, alright? You’re – not the one at fault here, surprisingly enough. Not at
all. It’s pretty much the other way around, really: you kind of helped me.”

Lilith gradually lowered herself into her chair again and gave her daughter a small nod. “If
you say so.”

I found this small bit of dialogue excruciating. But why?

Puzzled, I looked at Lilith’s face. Then I took a gander at Charlie’s face. As I observed these
women, a tiny, yet insistent spark of anxiety was suddenly ignited in my already overtaxed
thought process. It was slowly but surely starting to make me feel confused, alerted and on
edge. It created an abstract, urgent need to fight-or-flight inside of me, and it grew bigger and
bigger, pressing painfully against my insides, waiting for me to pick a choice.

I turned to Charlie. “Charlie, what is—”

“The clothes, Al?” Charlie smiled at me, but there was so much wrong with that smile that I
rather watched anything else – just anything else but that. “Please go get the clothes. Okay?”

“Alright,” I heard myself say, taken aback.

She barely seemed to receive my words. After halfheartedly waiting for my answer, she
simply took out her phone and walked out of the dining room, leaving me and everyone else
in a complete and all-consuming silence. It was nerve-wrecking, and bothersome, and so
massive, and it pushed down on me like a heavy, physical weight. It felt like a burden that
could easily crush us to nothing but dust every second now – all of us, but mostly me.
As soon as Charlie had left the room, the uncles’ eyes – all black, round, big and accusing –
were drawn to me, I acknowledged, and every single one of these eyes’ owners had the same
urgent question hidden within them:

What did you do?

Lucifer and Lilith didn’t look at me, however. Lucifer just smirked and took a sip of his tea,
thinking his own thoughts and making up his own conclusions, while Lilith’s eyes made sure
they’d never come in direct contact with mine as she cut through a freshly-baked croissant
and pursed her lips together tightly.

And that was when I knew. Well, that’s not exactly true – that’s when I got a hunch about
what could possibly have happened, while Lucifer and I hadn’t been around.

It was not good.

Fortunately enough, the unsaid question on the uncles’ minds was never uttered out loud, so I
didn’t have to answer it, thank goodness. Why, I wasn’t in the right position to answer it now
anyway, because the second the bitter reality of the situation struck me, I made sure to excuse
myself in order to go collect my and Charlie’s clothes… and my spinning thoughts, naturally.

Time. I needed more time.

AaA

It seemed to take him many torturous hours (hours that made the already suffocating
ambiance inside of the palace grow worse and less tolerable with every strained breath I
took), but eventually, Husker parked the limousine in front of the Royal Palace's gates.
Charlie and I had been waiting there, on that sandy pathway, ever since leaving her former
home.

We – hadn't said much during that period of time.

Well.

Charlie hadn't said much.

I had – rather pathetically, truth be told – attempted to talk about random, cute nonsense with
her, but it seemed like nothing really got through to her. She was so – aloof. Oh she kindly
played her part as the patient lover alright: she smiled whenever I told her something she was
supposed to find funny, she nodded when I needed her to agree with something I said and she
answered the questions I asked her, but… it felt off. It felt forced. Conversations with Charlie
had never felt forced before, but now, it was almost as if I was wading through a syrupy,
pasty swamp, desperately trying to reach my destination at the other side of it. And I couldn’t
reach it.

I couldn’t reach her.

“Holy fuck, did you two attend to a party or a goddamn funeral? What’s up with the long
faces?”

Husker’s rough voice brought me back to the here and now, and when I looked up, there he
was, holding the door for Charlie. Charlie seemed relieved to see him and climbed into the
vehicle instantly.

“Hi Husk. Everything’s okay! Don’t worry.”

“Yeah? Pull the other one.” He frowned his furry eyebrows critically at her. “You look like
crap, Princess.”

“I’m glad to see you, too.”

Husker flustered and nearly slammed to door against her in panic. “Wha – I literally said you
look like crap!”

She let out an obligatory giggle, but ended their little conversation right then and there. She
sat down on one of the car’s backseats, cradling her head in her hand and turning her face
resolutely towards the window of the door, as I valiantly tried to get my impossible long
limbs into the inconvenient limousine as well.

While I continued struggling to get in – I couldn’t remember it being so difficult to enter the
blasted vehicle when we came here yesterday? – Husker stared at Charlie. His eyes were dark
and concerned, and when I finally had taken my seat, the cat demon leaned towards me
through the window.

“Hey, uh, Al?”

“Yes?” I said with a sigh, straightening my back – as much as I was able to, that is.

“Did you boogie-woogie so much last night that you plainly forgot to also fuck Her Highness
a little, or did you just suck at it too har—”

White radio noise immediately buzzed through the car and his words, and I smashed a hand
against his mug.

“—aaaardly anybody can have a good opinion on that, dear Husker! Ha ha ha!” I hysterically
cackled through his words, keeping an eye on Charlie’s – still unmoving – figure. Then I shot
an annoyed grin at my partner in crime, lowering my voice and hand.

“First of all, that is none of your business, second, no, I didn’t forget to have sexual
intercourse with her, and third, it – it was good.”

Husker massaged his snout. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

“How good?”
“I passed out.”

“You fuckin’ what.”

“Ha! I’m not going to repeat that again, my pesky radio audience is already having enough of
a field day with this information as it is. Now! Would you please be so kind to bring us back
to the hotel? ASAP?”

A part of me hoped that Husker would burst into a mocking, raspy kind of laughter – the kind
of laughter he always shared with others when something embarrassing or unpleasant had
happened to me. That usually distracted him enough to carry on gloating and forget all about
his original questions or worries, and he’d stop meddling with my businesses or getting
stressed about things he shouldn’t feel anxious about.

This time was different, however.

Husker snickered a little at my misfortune, naturally, but his smile was gone again when he
glanced at Charlie once more. He harrumped weightily, pointed a paw at her and glared my
way.

“You see this girl? See how she fuckin’ looks? You did this. You were supposed to give her a
good time, remember? Not… fuck, this. I don’t know what your prudish, fainting fuckface
did, but it looks bad and you better fix it.”

“I will.”

“Fix it all.” He growled. “I’m sick and tired of it, Alastor. Tell her. And fuckin’ hope it’s not
too late for you yet.”

I didn’t react to this comment, I simply sat there and leered forebodingly at him until the
feline sinner got the message and backed down, stomping off to the driver’s seat of the gaudy,
white car. He got in and slammed the door with a smack brutal and harsh enough to let the
tacky rearview mirror plummet down from the ceiling. Husk groaned loudly and as he and
his ancient, hairy back bent towards the passenger’s seat to look for the missing mirror, I
cautiously moved myself closer to Charlie.

I cleared my throat. “Charlie dear?”

“Yes?”

“Can we talk for a bit?” Again, I took one of her hands. It seemed to be clenched into a tight
ball of white flesh, and I didn’t even try to pry it open. “And would you please be so kind to
actually take part in the dialogue this time?”

Charlie didn’t do or say anything at first, but then I saw her body raising and falling, a sign
she had in- and exhaled deeply. She slowly moved herself around, until she faced me.
Thankfully, her face looked less apathetic and unapproachable now (maybe because we
weren’t surrounded by her family members at the moment, or because I wasn’t talking
aimlessly to her anymore). Feeling more confident now that I had her attention at last, I
folded my hand around her fist.

“Hello, my dear,” I smiled.

A careful smile appeared on her face as well. “Hi Al.”

“Your mother told you something disturbing about me, didn’t she?” I (admittedly bluntly)
asked, rubbing my hand over hers.

“Getting straight to the point, huh?” Charlie’s gentle smile disappeared as quickly as it had
come. “About time you did. Yeah, she told me some things about you.”

“Care to share with me what she told y—”

“That you’ve been lying to me, Al.” Her forehead wrinkled. “That you’re – planning
something behind my back. That you’ve been manipulating me, one way or another.”

Fearing the worst, I waited for more and prepared myself, but – that was all.

Alright.

Well.

Looks like Lucifer and I had come back at exactly the right time.

“Ah,” I replied.

It was the wrong reply.

“‘Ah?’” She laughed a little, but her lips began to curve downwards quickly. “That’s all you
have to say to that? ‘Ah’? Not ‘that’s not true, Charlie’, or… ‘it’s all just a big
misunderstanding, Charlie’, or even… even ‘I’ll tell you everything now, Charlie’…?”

I looked at her, my beautiful, troubled angel. She seemed frustrated and on the brink of tears,
but not - furious. Not yet. It reminded me of the fact that it had been a while since the last
time I had seen her outspokenly angry. It was a look that suited her well, I had to say, since it
was such a rare sight to behold. Charlie usually smiled, or had at least a neutral, yet still
leaning-towards-the-positive emotion adorning her delicate face. Seeing her eyes burn in rage
and watching her head sprout those demonic horns was an experience in and on its own, and I
would lie if I’d say I wasn’t at least a bit curious about that forbidden, spiteful side of hers. It
was pretty, it was raw, and I absolutely hated seeing her like that.

It meant she was hurting.

“Charlie…” I started, but didn’t know how to continue, so I stopped right at the beginning.

I caught a glimpse of Husker in front of the car. He had found and repaired the little rearview
mirror and was currently busy acting like he was turning on the engine, while I knew he was
blatantly listening in on me and Charlie.
“You’re not going to tell me today, are you,” Charlie then muttered.

Tongue-tied, I could only stare at her.

She looked right back, narrowing her eyes. “It’s true, isn’t it? You’re going to try and stall for
more time. You’re going to tell me I should have just a bit more patience and faith in you,
and then you’ll spend the rest of the day preparing your next move, thinking of something to
tell me that’s not exactly the truth, but not a compete lie, either. And then, when the promised
day’s finally there, you’ll try to smooth-talk your way out of it again, or distract me with sex
and kisses and you’ll be – b-be very sweet and loving to me in general, and you’re
straightforward about those things – I know you’re genuine about those feelings, I know that
you love me, I do, but… but who cares about all that, if you just won’t tell me the truth? Just
– what are you up to? At the end of the day, you’ll have your way and I’ll still be left in the
dark with this nagging voice in the back of my head, sneering and laughing at me, because
see? See? You’ll never win him over, Charlie, you’ll never ever totally win him over, no
matter what you do, no matter how long you wait. You’re still an easy, gullible girl in his
eyes and as long as he doesn’t want you to know certain things, you won’t know these things,
because he’s still the one in control. The man behind the scenes. The chess master. The
mysterious, allusive, untouchable Radio Demon.”

She was even more informed and perceptive than I thought. I had obviously underestimated
her.

What a foolish thing to do. Almost as foolish as letting her into my heart, but not expecting
her to actually take a good look around while she was in there anyway. I indeed had become
far too careless.

Hearing that ghastly, ticking clock in the back of my head, I once more thought about what I
could say to her. But I was overwhelmed by all that had transpired in the past few hours. My
mind drew a blank and the one thing I knew for sure was that lying to Charlie would only
make matters worse. Whatever I was going to say to her now, it had to be the truth, or I was
going to lose her forever.

And that was the very last thing I wanted.

Not like this.

My heart’s muscles pulled in, locked up and launched an ice-cold shiver through me. The
chill started in my chest and spread itself over the rest of my body at a rapid tempo. It seeped
into me: realization. The dire situation I was in. Charlie’s grievances. My own vulnerability
and mortality.

Swallowing, I gripped Charlie’s hand firmer, meaning every single sound my voice made
when I finally said: “Tomorr—”

“God, I knew it.” Charlie heaved an angry huff and jerked her hand out of mine. “Tomorrow
– of course you’ll tell me tomorrow. And tomorrow, you’ll tell me you’re going to tell me the
day after tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow… right. Okay. I see how it is, Alastor.”
“No, I'm serious,” I emphasized, while Charlie turned herself away from me again. “I am, I –
simply need to prepare myself a bit more.”

“Oh I’m sure.”

“Because it’s not nothing, everything I’m going to tell you.”

“Hm-hm.”

“It’s a lot. A whole lot.”

“Whatever.”

“And for the record – I was going to tell you today. I was. But – I had hoped – it would be in
other circumstances. I had hoped you’d hear it from me, first.”

“So had I, Al.”

A sob.

Absolutely terror-stricken beyond my wildest dreams, I looked on as Charlie’s reflection in

the window started to cry. It were both tears of sadness as it were resentful tears, as she
whimpered in silence, yet at the same time roughly wiped the off the wet traces with her still
not-unclenched hands, her eyes dark and hard. Since I simply wasn’t able to watch her cry
like that without automatically acting on it, I reached out to her, attempting to put a hand on
her shoulder.

Charlie hissed and instantly smacked my hand away, not even looking over her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Charlie—”

“Don’t you fucking touch me!”

I pulled back my hand, respectfully distanced myself from her and averted my eyes from her
smaller, completely withdrawn, shaking body.

Husker’s yellow orbs found my own eyes, through the rearview mirror, but he didn’t say
anything as he finally started the limousine’s engine. He only shook his head and ignored me
for the rest of the ride home.

Sitting there in the vehicle, with a frozen smile on my face, a hurt princess next to me and a
disappointed friend at the wheel, I couldn’t recall a situation in which I had felt more
helpless, confused and downright pathetic.

But it would be worth it.

It would be worth it.

It would be worth it.

It had to be worth it.

It better be worth it.

DdD

Oh it was so fucking worth it!

Yeah, sure, after everything that had happened last night, the main hall was one big fucking
wasteland of trash, snacks, empty bowls and maybe dead, maybe zoned-out sinners. And I
guess it also wasn’t very swiggety-swag and/or cash-money of us to raid Charlie’s wine cellar
(did you know she had a fucking wine cellar?! ‘Cause that bitch had a damn wine cellar!),
but of course we still totally inhaled all that good, sexy booze till we all walked backwards
and it was good. And okay, okay – mayyyyyybe we didn’t have to rapid-fire-vomit into every
single nook and cranny of the hotel shortly after the drinking binge, like the smashed
drunkards we sure appeared to be…

But fuck that and what the fuck ever – we had fun and that’s all that matters!

Man, I never would’ve guessed that having a stupid Nineties Karaoke Night would be this
much fun without snorting so much coke that I couldn’t piss straight anymore – but that was
before I had seen Niffty shaking her tiny booty on ‘Wannabe’, before I had broken at least
one rib laughing hysterically upon hearing Husk’s wayyyyy too emotional version of ‘Mmm
Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm’ (no, seriously, that was the song’s title), before I had gotten
freaked-out goose bumps all over my friggin’ hot bod over Rob’s (pretty sure the depressed
chicken dude was Rob) haunting performance of ‘Losing My Religion’ and before I had
fucking fallen in love with Vaggie all over again during her extremely unconformable
adaptation of the boyband-song ‘Tearin’ Up My Heart’.

‘Cause it was a fucking LSD-trip.

She opened up her pouty little potty-mouth and windows splintered. Tenants begged others to
mercy-kill them. A random dog/wolf demon began to howl and scratch his own face open. A
girl almost tore her ears off. One dude threw himself from a just-shattered window (beats me
why he did that, the main hall was at ground zero, so what gives) and methinks I had seen at
least ten peeps getting a minor seizure over hearing Vaggie’s lethal singing voice.

Vaggie couldn’t sing for shit, see. She sounded like a fucking crow on steroids.

But oh my fucking god if she didn’t she put her heart and soul into it!

I swear, watching her sing to her heart’s content on the stage last night, all dolled up and
enthusiastic and looking like the most fuckable lady I had ever laid my countless eyes on – it
was like somebody had struck me with a damn thunderbolt. To the face. And to the jumbled
chaos that were my reproductive organs.
Yeah so we totally fucked again last night, what of it?

She wanted it.

I wanted it.

That made two people who wanted it.

Now let Uncle Angel Dust tell you a little special something: you know what happens when
(at least) two people who want it are put together?

They fucking get laid, ooooohhhhh!

So we just – stuck a cute lil’ pin in our sexualities for the time being and spent like 50% of
the evening touching and groping each other in every sense of the word, before we went like
“yeah let’s spend the remaining 50% to humping each other senseless lol” and I think only
10% was actually focused on singing, which made 110% in total, and that was impossible,
and shut the fuck up, I don’t care.

It was like 600 kinds of awesome and amazing, but the best part of it all still had to come –
want to know what the best part was?

The best part was what happened the next day, just a minute or so ago, when I was standing
in the sad remains of what used to be the main hall and took in the destroyed paintings on the
wall, wincing and sucking in my breath like “ooof”. Then there was suddenly Vaggie’s small
hand, sliding smoothly into mine.

“What a fucking mess,” she said, not looking at me.

“Yea,” I yelled, or at least it felt like I was yelling.

“Charlie’s going to be so pissed,” she said again.

“Yea,” I screamed again.

Then she tugged on my hand, her face and other hand hidden deep into the sweater vest she
had borrowed from me. “This thing stinks like you.”

“Jeez Louise, Vags, ya don’t have to—”

“…I don’t mind.”

And that was the best part.

SO YEAH!

Long story short: I had the fucking time of my afterlife, and so did everybody else, and
therefore, like I had said before, brutally ripping apart and shaking up the hotel and
everything and everybody that was inside of it... it was all worth it and I’d do it all over
again!

Besides, we all knew – that was just how fucking public Alastor and Charlie were these days
I guess – that the princess and her private Red Charlie Prodder would be too pooped out by
all the sex they had last night to really give a damn about the destruction her precious sinner
squad had put the hotel through, so I wasn’t worried! I was too pooped out 'cause of all the
sex as well, after all!

Also, Vaggie liked my smelly sweater!

Also also, I was as high as a kite!

And I didn’t even use anything!

Everything was fucking wonderful!

HhH

The princess didn’t say much when we, after one goddamn harrowing ride back home,
walked into the hotel and saw the disintegrated stuff that was supposed to be resembling her
establishment’s main hall.

She just motionlessly stared at the rumble, the snoring sinners hugging empty or bottles of
wine, the torn-off pieces of wall and the dirtied or broken furniture for a minute or two,
maybe three, before she sighed in defeat, tied her hair into a pony tail and – began cleaning
up the mess.

Don’t give me that look – I had tried to prepare her for all the fucked-up wreckage, yeah? I
had given explaining the situation she would find upon returning home a shot during the ride,
but when she wouldn’t react to any of the snarky remarks I made about the state some rooms
but mostly her main hall was in, I just gave up. Instead, I told her I still successfully saved
some liquor for her, just in case she needed some. And god fucking knows the lass needed
some.

But she hadn’t responded to that either, and here we were now, god fucking dammit, and my
wheezy, leaky, shriveled-up heart wept when I saw Charlie trying to push a fat guy off what
used to be her too-good-for-this-sinful-place karaoke machine. It bawled even harder when I
noticed Al coming to her aid – and Charlie abruptly turning on her heels and walking away
from him, like he had a deadly disease or something.

Which he had.

The fucking bastard.

Angel and Vaggie, who had been uselessly loitering around the main hall just like pretty
much every hungover sinner that was currently kind of awake here in the hotel, only now
spotted both Alastor and Charlie rummaging around the place. They wanted to say hi to
them, but changed their minds when they noticed that Al and the princess weren’t talking to
one another – and so they came to me instead, looking for answers.

Fucking yippee ki-yay.

I didn’t really feel like explaining all the things Alastor had done wrong to them – fuck no,
I’d be talking forever and probably not even die afterwards, either – and so I decided to
summarize everything in one easy-to-follow sentence.

“Alastor fucked up good.”

I’m a goddamn Shakespeare.

“No shit,” Vaggie said, playing it cool and casually retreating her hand from Angel’s. Like I
fucking cared? Just look at my face and tell me – was this the senile face of a cat-thing that
gave a damn she and Angel went to bone town again?

I’ll tell you.

No.

“Uh-huh, oh yea, he fucked up for sure. Damn,” Angel Dust – playing along – nodded,
watching Charlie ignore Alastor so blatantly it made the three of us cringe in almost-
sympathy. “But, like, on a scale from one to ten, Husky boy, just how much did Smiles fuck
up?”

“Twenty.”

“Ohh, twenty, shock and terror.” Angel rolled all of his eyes. “Look fuzzy face, I know
you’re tryin’ to be dramatic and shit, but when I say ‘on a scale from one to ten’, you’re
supposed to really pick a number in between the one and the ten. Otherwise I’d have said ‘in
a scale from one to fuckin’ infinity’ and call it a day, ya get it?”

“Fuck your scale,” I said.

He smirked. “Bitch I might.”

I grunted and was about to tell him I was way too ancient, sober and dead inside for his
cheeky Angel-shtick this early in the afternoon, when Vaggie suddenly shushed us – by
pounding a fucking elbow into our sides. Ignoring our ‘oof’s and insults, she aggressively
gestured towards the main hall and in the direction of some sleepy sinners, currently being
fucking obstructive pricks by just standing around, filling up space and not doing anything
except for breathing (as per usual, really). Vaggie then clacked her tongue, rolled up her
sleeves and put her hair into a messy bun.

“Alright – let’s get busy. Angel, you go tell those lousy jerks over there to get their shit
together and help us out cleaning this mess up. Husk, you go to that karaoke device and try to
fix it – you know how much Charlie loves that thing. I’ll go get some trash bags and join you
in a bit. Okay?”
You know, if I had to do this for any other person than the Princess of Hell, I’d have snorted
and laughed at Vaggie, right in her perpetually frowning face. Like hell I was going to allow
her to command me around – I had gotten commanded around more than enough, even after
my life was fucking over already, when I got down here and was stupid enough to turn to
Alastor and let him make me his stupid dumbass lackey. No fucking way I was going to let
me get ordered around by anybody anymore.

But it was for the Princess of Hell.

That sad-looking, blonde girl over there, wiping her strained face off to a piece of curtain rag.

So think, Husk, you cranky old geezer: where did you put your tool box again?

CcC

It took me a while to buckle up and get myself out of my negative train of thoughts, and if I
had to be honest, I actually didn’t even feel like getting out of it. You might even say I liked
it, in a morbid kind of way – letting myself get swallowed up by these spiraling feelings of
nothing but sorrow, spite and despair like this. Just because it was so easy to do so – so much
easier than fighting against it.

I don’t know. Maybe it was about time I stashed away my optimism and face the cold, bitter
truth already: my parents were assholes. My lover was a liar. My tenants were jerks. My
friends were useless. And my hotel – my pride and joy – was in shambles after just one
unattended party night.

Why would I try to get myself out of it, really?

Why even bother?

Why didn’t I just – give up on everything, go back to my parents’ place and hide underneath
my covers for the rest of the century?

That at the very least didn’t hurt me.

Fortunately enough (or unfortunately enough, depending from which angle you look at it) I
did manage to get out of my discouraged and heavyhearted stupor – and that was all thanks to
the efforts of everybody around me.

At some moment in time, somebody – I wasn’t sure who it was, my vision was all fogged up
and blurry – took me by the shoulders and carefully guided me to the side of the main hall.
Up to that point, I had been very engrossed in avoiding Alastor at all costs, so one can
imagine my already low energy levels were at rock bottom when they finally succeeded in
steering me away from the mess. I mean, I couldn’t even struggle against them. So I let them.

They put me on a chair, gave me a blanket, a warm cup of tea and an endeared pinch to the
cheek, and that was when I found out that none other than that sneaky jerk of an Alastor had
apparently managed to come close to me, despite of everything, dammit. But just when I was
about to snarl at him to just leave me the hell alone already and toss his teacup into his face, I
looked up – and I saw how everybody was working hard to clean up the main hall.

Husk was on the podium of the main hall, tinkering with the karaoke device. The karaoke
device didn’t look broken anymore and Niffty, all dressed up in her cute cleaning-lady-attire,
was polishing the colorful buttons on it with a concentrated glimmer in her – eye. I could
hear sounds coming out of the device and they sounded clear, so – so it seemed like the
karaoke device had been repaired.

Angel Dust and some of the stronger sinners of the hotel (not sure why Angel Dust was with
them, but oh well) were busy putting knocked over furniture back up and bringing the bags of
junk and waste Vaggie and the rest of the sinners were fervently collecting outside. When she
saw me looking her way, Vaggie paused from fishing wrappers out of puddles of alcohol and
gave me a smile and a wave – and I found myself hesitantly raising a hand up as well.

And then there was Alastor, of course, who probably thought he needed to show off by fixing
all the holes in the walls, restoring the torn walls and paintings, putting together the wrecked
windows and mopping the floor, all at the same time – but it really wasn’t that amazing. I
mean, come on, the guy was an evil overlord and he had magical powers and tentacles – of
course he could do like a million things at the same time.

That didn’t impress me much, Al.

However…

…I also saw Rosie running along with the sinners, fancy hat and clothes and all. Rosie didn’t
live at the hotel (yet), so that meant Alastor had ask her for help at some point in time. I also
recognized some lesser known overlords we had met last night, working hard to restore the
main hall to its former glory. And Al was talking to Bob. You know. The emotionless guy
who hated Alastor more than everything? Well he sure as heck didn’t seem to hate him now,
as he listened to Al’s instructions, fell down on his knees and began to brush the dirt from the
tiles’ seams with only a toothbrush, his stern, unmoving face practically plastered to the floor.

I gripped my teacup a little.

With the help of everybody around, and especially the help of the many overlords roaming
around, I could literally see the main hall recovering from last night’s festivities with the
passing minute.

Meanwhile, I just sat there. Holding that teacup. I – I didn’t need to do or instruct anybody.
They just… did it. Out of their own accord. Even stronger put: every time I did as much as
try to offer my help, I was friendly, yet insistently pushed down back on my chair again and
told to relax.

This was so strange to me. Seeing everybody work so hard for me – it was so unusual and
bizarre, I couldn’t even become emotional over it.
 It did cheer me up, though, and by the time everybody was done cleaning and the main hall’s
floor was sparkling like never before, I felt a lot better and had almost forgotten about all the
events that had taken place earlier this day.

Almost.

Chapter End Notes

There once was a shepherd boy who liked to play pranks on others. For some curious
reason, he thought it was very hilarious to repeatedly trick the villagers of his hometown
into thinking that a dangerous wolf was attacking his flock of sheep. The boy would
randomly start crying for help, and then, when the villagers came to his aid, they’d find
– much to their dismay – that the little bastard had successfully fooled them, yet again.
Of course, this running gag was bound to grow old and go horribly wrong eventually,
and one day, a hungry wolf really DOES appear near the shepherd’s sheep! Although the
frightened boy desperately calls for help, nobody comes to help him this time. The
people in town all think it’s yet another false alarm, so the sheep – and the lying
shepherd boy – are all devoured by the wolf. Just like that.

An extremely old and rather well-known fable from Aesop. Like in many old, classical
stories, there are different versions of this one – but interestingly enough, most versions
have the boy, the sheep and the wolf as recurring themes (I guess everybody universally
agrees that wolfs are bad news and shepherd boys are nasty little liars, no matter in what
era they live). The moral at the end of this little story? Even if they (finally) tell the
truth, no one will believe a known liar.
 The Princess and the Pea
Chapter Summary

Alastor tries to make things up with Charlie.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

This day had been so hustling and bustling, it was over before I even knew it. And yet, thanks
to everything that had transpired today, it also felt like it hadn’t been just one day, but – well,
more like a week?

I mean, one moment, I was eagerly watching Alastor’s hot, glimmering body in the shower,
and the next moment, during breakfast, I felt like my chest was getting... plucked apart. Then,
the moment after that, I couldn’t even look at Alastor anymore without wanting to slap him in
the face with a chair, and the moment thereafter, I sat and witnessed him and everybody
connected (and not connected) to the hotel make me feel special and wholesome, by patching
up my hotel’s utterly abused main hall in the most heartwarming kind of way.

All in all, my rattled heart had gone through a pretty bumpy, turbulent roller-coaster-ride
today – and I was sure it wasn’t over yet. I was still on board of that ride, with no idea how it
would end or how to get off of it.

Seriously: what a day.

It had ended on a fairly upbeat note, for which I was very grateful, oh yes, I was. But – I had
enough of this day. I was beat and I just wanted it to be over already. That’s why I, soon after
dinner with all of the sinners had ended, told Vaggie I was going to bed early.

Vaggie, having not finished her plate of macaroni yet, gave me an understanding look and
nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s probably for the best, hun. Why don’t you sleep in for a
bit tomorrow? I don’t mind starting things up with An—all and utterly by myself.”

Tired or not, I was still more than interested in what Vaggie had almost told me just now –
and I raised an eyebrow at her. “By yourself, huh?”

“Yes.” Vaggie, who had always been kind of secretive about things she felt unsure of, timidly
turned her head away from me and began stabbing a piece of pasta with her fork. “All by
myself. Alone. Just me, myself and I. That is exactly what I said.”

“Oh really? I’m pretty sure I heard you say a certain na—”
“What about Alastor, Charlie?” Vaggie then ruthlessly cut through my words, her sole eye
staring at me.

My grin faltered. I guess that’s what I deserved for teasing her too much. My eyes flicked up,
warily looked around the dining hall – and noticed Al, sitting not too far away from me and
Vaggie. Apparently, Alastor had finally taken my urgent request (to leave me the hell alone)
to heart. By the looks of it, he was currently talking to Angel Dust about – well, something.
He didn’t return my glances, but that was okay. In all fairness, I was glad he didn’t. Things
could get awkward.

“What about him,” I muttered, looking away from him at last.

Vaggie furrowed her brows. “Sheesh, I don’t know what happened between you two, but –
tell me, have you broken up with him?”

“No.”

“Are you planning to break up with him?”

“I’m – not sure. I hope not.” I bit my lower lip. “I found out Al has been keeping secrets from
me, Vag. Well, I already knew he had some secrets, but this morning, mom said… uh,
basically, she accidentally let me know that Alastor’s been lying to me about a lot of things.
That he’s been pulling all kinds of strings behind my back and that he has… manipulated me.
She didn’t get into details, but… yeah.”

Vaggie listened to me and nodded. “Hm-hm. Alright, and what did Alastor have to say for
himself? Did he come with an explanation?”

I shrugged. “He said he’d tell me tomorrow. I wonder if he will, though… I – I fear he’s
leading me on. He was supposed to tell me all about his secrets today, but then he found out
mom already told me something I wasn’t supposed to know (yet), and he kind of… short-
circuited, I guess.”

“Huh,” Vaggie said.

“What a jerk.” I fidgeted with a lock of hair. “Right?”

Vaggie was quiet for a little while, before she sighed, sitting back and folding her arms
together. “Never thought I’d say this, and please don’t ever tell that tall, psycho beanpole I
said this, but I kind of get Alastor?”

“You do?”

“Yeah, he—”

“You, of all people?”

“Are you done?” My friend made a slightly irritated, huffy face. “Yeah – me, of all people.
Ooh. Look, hear me out, Charlie – Alastor kind of reminds me of a huge, skittish asshole cat.
When you wanted to approach this asshole cat earlier today, you somehow spooked him –
and so, the asshole cat ran the fuck away. He’s sure to return to you later, because you are
like, his owner – you feed him and everything… but in that particular moment, you ruined it.
So now, you need to wait until there’s another moment in which you can carefully approach
the asshole cat again. Get what I mean?”

“I can’t believe you're calling Alastor an asshole cat,” I said.

“I can’t believe I'm calling you his owner, too,” Vaggie pointed out.

I let out a snort. “Well, I mean… I did kind of… reserve his heart and stuff.”

“Oh god, spare me the mushy metaphors – and stop waving that dumbass bookmarker
around, before I fucking throw up.” Vaggie grinned nevertheless. “Anyways – let’s give him
the benefit of the doubt. Say that he really did wanted to fess up today, but got discouraged
after finding out you already knew some things – and probably weren’t reacting too well on
that knowledge, too. That made him freak out and he then stupidly decided to stall the
moment of truth for a day. Having to wait for another day is fucking annoying, no doubt
about it, but still: it’s not that much to ask of you, I think. That’s just my opinion, however.”

I rubbed my arm. “Vaggie, please understand that… this has been on my mind for a long time
already. And Alastor knew this has been on my mind for a long time. I’ve been patient, I’ve
been waiting and I’ve been kindly reminding him that he really can trust me, time after time,
without pushing or blackmailing him into doing anything. Believe me, I have tried, so much,
but – I don’t know, when I realized he wasn’t going to tell me today either, even after he had
promised me he’d tell me today… it was… I feel like he’s playing around with me. Like he’s
taking me for granted.”

“He’s not taking you for granted.” Vaggie stated right away. “Do you have any idea how
fucking lost and forlorn he looked today? He might have been putting up quite a show with
his boisterous laughing, his arrogant jabbering and his… weird mop-juggling-show this
afternoon, but you should have seen the look on his face when he stared at you, probably
thinking that nobody paid attention to him anyway. He’s terrified, Charlie – terrified he might
lose you.”

“I didn’t see that,” I mumbled.

“Of course not, hun, you were busy ignoring the dirty jackass.” She smiled a little. “Believe
me, Charlie: you’re all that’s on his miniscule mind right now.”

Thinking her words over, my eyes again wandered over to where Al was sitting – just in time
to see him (abruptly) look the other way and hear him (loudly) proclaim, out of nowhere, that
Angel Dust was an unforgivable pervert.

“The fuck,” was Angel’s response. “I only yawned, ya dick!”

Al laughed brashly. “Ha! Absolutely nobody yawns with their tongue hanging out like a piece
of rotten, dead flesh, my dear, foul fellow!”

“I do!”
“Why that’s what I said: absolutely nobody!”

“Why did I have to sit here,” Husk deadpanned, sitting in-between Alastor and Angel Dust
with a lifeless expression on his face. "I could've sat everywhere, even on the side with
the nice plates and napkins, but no, nope, I just had to sit with the Fuck-Up Squad. Fuckin'
kill me."

“You – think I should wait for tomorrow, then?” I asked Vaggie, the both of us looking on as
Al and Angel Dust’s argument kept going.

She nodded. “Grant him that last chance. You’re right to be pissed at him for stalling and
giving you the feeling he’s making a fool out of you, but at least allow him to prove the
opposite.”

“One last chance.” My head snapped back at Vaggie, giving my friend a scare. “I hear you,
Vag, and I’m willing to put up with it for one more day – but if he doesn’t come clean to me
tomorrow and weasels himself out of it again, it’s over.”

“Alright, alright…” Vaggie gave me a concerned look. “Are you – feeling okay, Charlie?”

“Not really.”

“I can tell. You’re mad. The frustration over this lingering situation… it’s really bothering
you, isn’t it?” Vaggie’s eye grew bigger. “Are you…”

“No! No. I’m – not like that.” I brushed some locks of hair out of my face and hastily stood
up, almost tipping over a glass in the panicky process. “Don’t worry. It’s not like that. It’s
not. I – I’m just tired. I’m going to bed now. Good night.”

Instead of waiting for Vaggie’s reply to that, I rapidly walked away from the table. I tried to
be quick and quiet, as quick and quiet as possible, but it still wasn’t quick and quiet enough,
because I could easily hear Vaggie, calling out to Alastor in the packed room:

“Hey, Radio Douchebag! The princess is going to bed now! Do with that information
whatever you want. And stop trying to stab Angel with that toothpick! People are still eating
here, for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh!” Angel clacked his tongue, offended. “Well alright then, mamasita, keep it up like that
and I won’t be eating anything tonight, that’s for sure!”

While several inhabitants of the hotel cracked up at the bold remark and the air in the room
swelled up with thunderous laughter (and the steam that had begun swirling out of Vaggie’s
red ears), I just groaned softly in annoyance, and made myself scarce.

CcC

After I had dragged myself over to my bedroom, I had about enough time to dump my
clothes into the laundry basket, put on a pair of comfortable pajamas and brush some
stubborn tangles out of my bulky bush of hair, before I heard Alastor knock on my room’s
door.

I mean, it had to be him, right – who else could it possibly be?

And yes, upon opening the door, Alastor came into sight in front of me. Although he, at first
glance, didn’t appear to be openly nervous or anxious to be here, he couldn’t trick me: I saw
thought his act instantly. Come on, the subtle fact he kept frantically playing around with his
microphone stand immediately gave his discomfort away, and if that hadn’t done the trick,
then that really big, unconvincing smile on his face certainly did.

His awkward self-consciousness became painfully visible to me right then as he stood there,
fidgeting – and it was safe to say that in the end, it was that little bit of disarming, humane
uncertainty that made me withhold the urge to slam my door shut. Because otherwise, I’d…

…oh what the hell was I saying – stop acting so tough, Charlie, you know you had been
secretly hoping he’d show up, shamelessly hoping he would, even, in spite of your anger, and
that wasn’t just so you’d be able to whack the door into his smug face.

Your weak heart had always been biased, after all.

“Hello,” Alastor started.

“Hi,” I said, sticking my chin out defiantly.

A minute passed, in which Alastor looked at me and I looked at him in return, with neither
one of us saying anything at all. I could hear his invincible radio audience excitedly chowing
down on some crispy snacks though – it sounded like they were having the time of their lives,
watching us being weird around one another.

“I was wondering about something,” Alastor finally stated, his raised voice drowning out the
noises his smacking audience members made.

“Join the club,” I darkly said.

He ignored that comment and cleared his throat. “Pray tell, my dear, should I spend the night
in my own bedroom tonight?”

I stared at him. “You’re asking me?”

“Yes?”

“Why? Can’t you figure out yourself what you should do in this situation?”

“Ah! Well. That is a good question! A very good question indeed,” he said, nodding. “You
see, Charlie, I have never been in a… lovers’ quarrel before. Since you are the only lover I
ever had. And you – well. You obviously know this already. Why am I telling you this? This
has been established many times already now. And I’m still talking about it. I should stop
talking now.”
“No, go on,” I encouraged him, suppressing a smile and hating that he actually managed to
endear me with his stupid, clumsy bumbling.

And he did go on. “I’ve always solved every argument or feud I ever had with others in
rather… resolute ways, so to speak. Or, in some cases, by simply – and quite literally –
walking away from them. But I’m aware I can’t do either of these options in this specific
argument, since it involves you. And as you know, I’m – deeply in love with you. So…”

My heart throbbed, but I kept a straight face. “So?”

He gave me a fixed look. “So what should I do, Charlie? It’s not my intention to sleep all by
myself tonight. However, I know it’s wishful thinking to believe you’d willingly let me into
your room and spend the night with you, after all that has been said and done today. You’re
mad at me – rightfully so – and I’m prepared to leave you alone, if that’s what you want.
Please tell me.”

I – I couldn’t think when he talked like that. Rubbing my slowly reddening cheeks, those
damn traitors, I let out a troubled sigh.

“Al…”

“Also – and excuse me for interrupting you – whether you’ll tell me to get lost or come in, do
know that I’m already eternally grateful you at least don’t mind looking me in the eyes
anymore.”

He smiled warmly at me.

“That’s reassuring.”

It…

It was one of those smiles. You know the ones. Those charming, heartfelt, secret ones, those
which made me feel weak in the knees, high in the head and soft in the chest.

God damn it.

I quickly lowered my face and, from the corners of my eyes, noticed him moving closer to
me, the bastard – he knew he had won, dammit, he knew it. I kept my arms locked together in
a convulsive grip, even when Al got close enough for me to feel the warmth radiating from
his body. It was child’s play for him to take hold of me now – to just… pull me into his
embrace and overpower me completely.

But he didn’t.

“Charlie,” he softly asked me, his hopeful, yet calm voice resonating somewhere above my
bowed head, but not all that far above it, “will you let me in, sweetheart?”

My breath escaped my mouth in shaky, unsteady puffs, but he just stood there, not lifting a
single finger to touch me.
Alastor was exceptionally careful to not overstep his bounds, I realized. If something was
going to happen, I’d have to be the one to initiate it. I’d have to make the decision. I’d have
to give him the green light. Even while knowing very well that he could easily take over
control over this entire plight within the blink on an eye, and knowing I’d let him, he didn’t –
and he patiently let me continue to direct this situation instead.

I appreciated that.

God I appreciated that.

I let him in.

CcC

“I noticed you… invited some friends over this afternoon.”

Alastor, who had taken off his monocle and was about to put it on the nightstand next to the
bed, glanced briefly at me after he heard me – quasi-casually – make this remark. I was lying
down in bed and watched him expectantly as he finished up his usual evening rituals. He
eventually turned off the light, settling down.

“To – help clean up the mess, I mean,” I clarified, clutching the covers. “It happened to catch
my attention.”

Alastor folded his hands together on top of the bedsheets, before turning his head to look at
me. “That’s correct. The main hall was in such a horrendous state – I figured it would be best
to persuade more people from outside of the hotel to come on over and help us out with…
well, the restoration of your beloved manor.”

“It helped,” I admitted. “While everybody was working hard anyway (thank god), I’m pretty
sure things wouldn’t have gotten fixed this quickly if you hadn’t… called on more
acquaintances.”

“Perhaps,” Al said, shrugging.

“Thank you.” I studied the fabric of the fluffy cover on top of me. “Even if you only did it in
order to - kind of - make up for all that happened today. Or all that didn’t happen today, better
said.”

“Ah. Yes, I suppose my intentions were rather… transparent, weren’t they?” He chuckled a
little. “That, or you simply know me too well.”

“I do know you pretty well,” I said.

“That you do.”

There was a moment of silence between us. It wasn’t as unbearable as the many other loaded
pauses that had occurred today, yet it also wasn’t a very comfortable kind of quietness. It was
one filled with burdensome questions and unspoken answers, after all, and I grew tired of it
very fast.

“Okay,” I said at last, sighing and turning my body so that I could decently face him. “Listen,
Al – I’m glad you helped me out today, even though I was busy vigorously evading and
disliking you for most of the afternoon. I’m also happy you left it up to me to decide what to
do with you, in terms of… sleeping arrangements and such. If you hadn’t done anything like
that, I think you wouldn’t be lying next to me right now.”

Alastor nodded in agreement, but didn’t immediately verbally reply to that remark. Instead of
that, he seemed to brood over some unspoken things for a little while. As he did so, I noticed
the corner of his eye twitch, even in this darkness, and Al grimaced, covering his scarred
hand with the other one. It probably stung.

“Are you still angry with me?” I heard him speak up, right when I was about to ask him about
his wound.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “Well – maybe not angry-angry. More like… confused-angry.”

“Well. At least that’s better than disappointed-angry.”

“Oh god, nothing’s worse than disappointed-angry.”

He nodded. “Can’t agree more with you on that matter. I once gravely disappointed my
mother by neglecting to tell her I had a meeting after work and would therefore return home
much later than I normally did. You should have seen the look on her face when I finally
came back. Oh ho! It was the worst day of my life.”

I smiled. “The worst, Al?”

He understood what I meant and flashed a grin at me. “Alright – second to worst day of my
life.”

I sniggered weakly. “You’re right though. Parents will never let you live it down, once you’ve
disappointed them once.”

“It’s true.”

“Yeah.”

“I will tell you everything tomorrow, Charlie,” Alastor then said, coming out of left field.

Taken by surprise and not knowing what to say to that, I shut up and pursed my lips together,
staring at him.

“I will,” he emphasized. “Trust me.”

“Sure,” I murmured, without much conviction, and rolled myself over the other side - away
from him. “If you say so.”
I heard him heave a sigh. “I know I’m asking much of you, my love – believe me, I know I
am. I also understand that you’re already being far kinder to me than I deserve. Goodness, if I
had been the one in your shoes, I’m fairly sure I wouldn’t even allow you to be in the same
neighborhood as me!”

“I’m not like you, Al.” I put my hands underneath my pillow and tried to close my eyes. “I’m
weak.”

“Weak? You?” Alastor barked out a hard laugh. “What nonsense! My dear, if you truly were
as weak as you seem to think you are, you wouldn’t have established this hotel! You wouldn’t
have moved out of the palace and start living on your own! And you certainly wouldn’t have
had all those overlords, demons and sinners come over to help you out!”

“What do you mean?”

From the ruffling sheets, I could hear Al scooting much closer to me. “Charlie, do you
believe all those wacky creatures we met last night would have hopped over to the hotel if
they thought you were nothing but a weak little princess? You left an impression on those
people, darling – and a good one, too! Not only on Rosie or your three Arch Uncles – yes,
I’m calling them that from now on – but also on all those party guests that happened to watch
us last night!”

Since I couldn’t keep my eyes shut, I blinked a little. “T-that’s just because they believed you.
What you told them about me.”

“Oh that played a part in it, I’m sure – but you were there, weren’t you? They could see
firsthand, with their own eyes, whether or not I was right about you.” He approached me
even more, I sensed. “And since they came here today, to clean up rubble for you, I was. So
please stop saying such silly things about yourself, Charlie. It’s entertaining to hear, but it’s
simply not true.”

“…why…”

“Hm?”

“Why – why do you always make things sound so – logical?” I laughed softly. “Whenever
you say something like this, I almost always find myself thinking ‘well that actually makes
sense’, and I just don’t know how you manage to do that, I have no idea.”

Alastor was now right behind me, his close proximity becoming more than a little obvious to
me – but I also felt his hesitation, the way his hand, I assumed, wavered above me.

Still, he gloated: “I told you before, Charlie – I have a way with words.”

“You do,” I smiled.

“And I daresay you have a way with percieving my very presen—”

Alastor momentarily stopped talking when I reach a hand behind me, grabbed his faltering
wrist and pulled him against me in one swift movement. I felt his pointy chest and lanky legs
colliding against my back and calves, and he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around
me, dotting the back of my neck with countless grateful kisses. The way he promptly forgot
what he was talking about and instead focused on desperately intertwining our arms and legs
together, peppering my skin with soft, moist touches of his lips… it said more than enough
about his immense relief.

“Thank you,” he still said, however.

“Don’t mention it,” I mumbled. “I mean… y-you did it. Again. You made me feel – better
about myself, without trying to comfort me or sugarcoat anything. I like that. So… y-yeah.
This is your reward, I guess.”

“It’s a lovely reward.”

“I’ll… I’ll give you another chance, too. However, this is the last chance I’m giving you.” I
inhaled, pondering over my words as I felt his hands grip and hold me. “Don’t make me
regret it. Please.”

He squeezed me tightly. “I won’t.”

“I’ve been hurt enough, Al.”

“I know.”

“I don’t need another depressing footnote in my life.”

“Please don’t worry about that, my love: I’m at least one blast of a chapter anyway.”

That made me chuckle, louder than I thought I would, which made Alastor snicker as well.
Finally, the strange air around us appeared to become lighter and more familiar, and almost as
if on cue, I relaxed myself. Alastor seemed to feel the change in my formerly wound-up body
and moved a hand to my face, gently putting it against my chin and tilting it his way. My
giggling slowly came to a halt when my eyes saw his and I waited, holding in my breath.

“May I?” he muttered.

“Y-yeah,” I panted.

My eyelids grew heavy when his lips found mine and quietly overwhelmed the last,
remaining piece of doubt still standing up inside of my head. His touch was safe and intimate
and his mouth hot and careful, as he deepened the kiss and made me moan and give in to him
in an instant.

It was all I needed right now and I was more than delighted to swallow every passionate bit
of it whole.

AaA
My poor, darling Charlie. She had been so mentally exhausted and drained after this
obnoxious day, it was no wonder she drifted off as soon as I backed away from her mouth.
Content to see her dozing off rather peacefully, I planted another kiss on her cheek and
secured her smaller frame against my own some more, embracing her as good as I could in
this position. Charlie made a final, adorable mumbling sound and then she nodded off at last.

Usually, holding her in my arms, feeling her warmth and knowing she was here with me was
enough for me to go to sleep as well. Oh, I’d wake up a couple of times later that night
anyway – I still woke up five to six times per night, sadly enough – but I’d be able to at the
very least fall asleep again fairly easily, as long as she was nearby. After all, Charlie couldn’t
cure me from my insomnia, but she did make it more bearable.

This night, however, I didn’t fall asleep that swimmingly.

I was thinking.

Charlie had given me an ultimatum: I needed to tell her everything tomorrow, or else. She
hadn’t directly elaborated on what she was planning to do if I still refused telling her, but I
was certain it was something so unthinkable somber that I’d regret keeping quiet about my
secrets for the rest of my remaining life.

Silently, I paused my roaming thoughts to nuzzle my face into the top of her blonde hair,
inhaling the soothing scent of fresh, clean cotton she gave off. Such a pleasant, excellent
smell. So simple, yet so sophisticated. So ordinary, yet so outstanding. Charlie’s entire being
was soaked with the fragrance of neatly-made beds and serene comfort.

Everything is going to be okay.

That was her scent.

I didn’t want to lose that scent.

I absentmindedly caressed the curves of her back and the softness of her stomach, my eyes
still half-open as I thought about my next move.

She had looked so broken today – so hurt, frustrated and fed up with everybody and
everything. Telling her about my plans and schemes would hit her hard, perhaps break her
even more, but Charlie was a strong woman. She could take it. I only had to explain it to her
in a way that she’d understand, that she’d know my intentions behind it were good. Would
she be mad at me? Yes, she would – but she would appreciate my honesty and she’d forgive
me, and there would still be a chance. Whether she was aware of it or not.

With that promising thought in the back of my mind, I, at last, felt my eyelids slowly closing
themselves fully, and I slipped into a delightful kind of numbness as sleep took over my
senses.

AaA
I woke up… oh, well, about six times that night again, and after opening my eyes for that
sixth regrettable time, I no longer felt like sleeping. Or like trying to sleep, that is. It was such
a boorish activity, truth be told… I’d rather do practically anything else but sleeping,
especially when it was a night like this one – an unending night in which I just couldn’t find
enough peace of mind to stay asleep.

Drowsily, I sat up a bit and glanced down. Much to my amusement, I noticed that Charlie had
somehow managed to look even more charming and attractive than she already did on a
regular basis, with all of that golden hair of hers sticking out of her head, her mouth slightly
opened and drooling just a little, and her thin hands firmly clutching the front of my pajama
vest. Almost as if she was afraid I’d sneak away if she didn’t hold me like that.

It was a silly thought – such a silly thought! As if I’d even want to! Ha!

I smiled and laid back down, observing Charlie’s sleeping face, now turned towards me. My
fingers landed on her face and experimentally moved over her soft skin and chin. I was
unable to keep myself from leaning in, closing my eyes again and chastely kissing her sweet
mouth. One time. Two times. Three times. Goodness, I loved her – how much I loved her,
this beautiful, caring, unique little creature.

My hands slid down to her shoulders, over her arms, until they came in contact with Charlie’s
own hands. I delicately tweaked her stubborn fingers until they let go of my vest and bundled
them together with mine. My forefinger brushed against the cord, safely wrapped around
Charlie’s right hand’s ring finger, and I stopped engulfing her lips with kisses, my eyes
snapping open again. I couldn’t see much in this nightly darkness, yet I felt the bookmarker
perfectly fine. It was right there – Charlie’s promise. Her – reservation.

Technically, she never officially proposed to me.

Oh yes, I knew what she had meant when she had looped that cute cord around my finger, a
few months ago. It wasn’t needed for her to say more to me than she had already suggested,
and perhaps her proposal being offered to me this vaguely was because she had wanted to
give me time to think it over, to avoid... catching me off guard, possibly. Charlie had always
been careful around me – so adorably, painstakingly careful, she didn’t even have the heart to
simply outright ask me to marry her. Because who knows how I and my easily startled mental
state of mind would react, right?

Right.

Well.

Perhaps the time had come for me to repay her for all her patience and kindness, by being the
one to formally ask her, instead. Just like I had asked her malicious father for her hand in
marriage.

Charlie would like that.

It was settled then: I was going to propose to her today. I wasn’t sure yet if I’d pop the
question before or after I had told her all about my plans (I wasn’t sure what would… give
 me the best results, in all honesty), but it was going to happen, and it would happen today.
Not only in order to prove to her that I had made up my mind, but also to prove to myself that
it was sufficient to trust the love Charlie harbored for me – to believe that her feelings for me
were deep enough to – forgive me. For everything. And more.

I needed to make some preparations then… and why not make them now?

Succeeding such a restless night, I didn’t feel like sleeping anymore anyway – and there was
no way I was going to spend the next few hours waiting for the nighttime to be over already.
I’d get bored. Even the mere thought I could possibly bore myself was enough to make me
cringe and loathe in response. No, I had to undertake some action and use this spare time to
draw up a wedding proposal my angelic princess deserved.

Smiling and nodding to myself, I began to untie the cord on Charlie’s finger. Naturally, I was
going to use the same bookmarker to ask her. It had to be the bookmarker – the stringy thing
was too meaningful for the two of us, too important, and I believed it was impossible to find
something else that would have a more satisfactory effect than the bookmarker. Also, by
using the bookmarker, I wouldn’t handwave Charlie's own almost-proposal away. She’d
appreciate that.

It – was quite the struggle to get the cord off Charlie’s finger, I had to say (had she ever even
untied it?), but ultimately, it came off. Grasping the bookmarker in my hand, I shoved myself
away from Charlie, just a little at first. Then I moved further away from her. Charlie was still
sound asleep, but she unconsciously reached out to me nevertheless as I kept increasing my
distance from her, until her seeking hands gave up and plopped down on the sheets.

After making sure Charlie was still slumbering, I got out of bed and concluded – judging by
the weak rays of sunshine drippling into Charlie’s bedroom – that it was early in the morning.
Four, maybe five o’clock? Ah, well. It didn’t matter: I had heard Vaggie say Charlie was
allowed to sleep in today, so she’d sleep for a much longer time. Especially after a day like
yesterday. The girl needed her energy.

All would be good; I’d be back before she’d realize I had been gone in the first place.

I affectionately patted Charlie’s snoozing bed head, put on my housecoat and made sure to
make no sound as I left the blackness of the bedroom.

After all, there was only one location that would inspire me to make the best possible
preparations for the best possible wedding proposal.

Chapter End Notes

In a land far, far away, there once lived a prince who desperately wanted to find a
suitable princess to marry. But no matter how much he searches and how many
princesses he meets, there’s always something wrong with them: they have bad table
manners, they talk too loudly or they simply aren’t his type. The picky Prince, who only
wants to marry a REAL princess, reasons that all those girls, with all their shortcomings,
can’t be actual princesses. So, he keeps looking for The Right One.
One day, during a stormy night, a young woman drenched with rain seeks shelter in the
Prince’s castle. She claims to be a princess, but both the Prince and well as his mother,
the Queen, aren’t sure about that. Every soaked girl can come knock on their door and
make such a bold statement, after all. So the Queen has an idea: she tells the alleged
princess to stay over for the night and (secretly) places a single pea in the guest’s bed,
covered by an insane amount of mattresses and feather-beds. Somehow not weirded out
by having to sleep on a bed like that, the girl goes to sleep.
The next morning, the guest tells the Prince and Queen that she had had a horrible,
sleepless night, and she says she’s sure there was something hard in the bed that hurt her.
Her back is indeed heavily bruised, and this is the unmistakable proof that the girl
indeed is a Princess. Only a true princess would be sensitive enough to feel the pea
through so many layers of bedding, the Queen says, and the satisfied Prince and
(probably very confused) Princess marry.

A fairy tale collected by Hans Christian Andersen. Andersen claimed he had once heard
somebody tell him the story about a girl needing to sleep on a huge amount of bedding
in order to proof she was a princess, but it’s also possible he based it on other, similar
tales with this theme. In any case, it wasn’t a very popular fairy tale: most critics found
the story (and other fairy tales in the book that had this story) too ‘chatty’, ‘casual’ and
‘immoral’.
 Rumpelstiltskin
Chapter Summary

Things get better, then worse, then better again, before everything just collapses.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Ah, the library!

Or the place where I discovered Heaven, as I’d like to refer to this specific room.

Walking around in this nowadays frequently visited chamber on the fourth floor would no
doubt bring back some good and tender memories I could use for creating a wonderfully
romantic wedding proposal, or so I mused, after entering the library and gently closing the
door behind me. I looked around the enormous room and let my eyes rest on the antique
bookcases, the abundance of books in all colors, sorts and sizes, the soft sofas, quirky
couches, the single, large, apple-themed stained glass and the oh so very well-used chaise
longue.

There were two books lying on the chaise longue’s seating. On the advice of my sweet
Charlie, I was currently reading the ridiculously depressing novel ‘P.S. I Love You’ (ha ha ha,
oh Charlie, how predictably schmaltzy your taste in books is!), while Charlie was reading
‘Sense and Sensibility’ at the moment, an old classic. The books were neatly stacked on top
of one another, patiently waiting for their readers to return to them. For now, I simply passed
them by. We’d be sitting there this afternoon again, though. Hopefully.

Folding my hands on my back, I sighed and began wandering around the chamber. Charlie
and I still visited the library nearly every day around break time, to read and relax, but the
place hit – different, now that I was here all on my own. All kinds of flashbacks washed over
me, hurriedly stumbled and spilled over one another in their amusing hurry to inform me
about all that had taken place in this special area.

Such as the first time I had followed Charlie into this room. I recalled how my usually numb
ticker had jumped up in delight upon discovering the princess’ beautifully sleeping figure on
the couch. How she had looked at me when she woke up and noticed me sitting next to her:
cautious of me, first and foremost, but also endearingly curious about my motives.

I remembered I had tried to intimidate her in the beginning, threatening to tell every single
sinner in the hotel about her library. We both knew her ‘dear’, sinful subjects would ruin the
works and stories rustling in-between the barely opened pages of the many books catching
dust in here, that much was certain. My words were supposed to be a clear warning to
Charlie: don’t ever ignore, avoid or bore me, or this is what might happen… but instead of
getting scared, getting angry with me or bursting into tears, Charlie had readily suggested I
should simply become part of her secret library as well, if I liked to have control over it so
much.

She didn’t mind my shenanigans. She didn’t mind anything I did. She didn’t mind me
bragging about all the books I had read, she didn’t mind trying out the books I recommended
to her, she didn’t mind me squeezing her hand all the time and she didn’t mind me falling for
her. Heavens, she didn’t even mind that I did mind falling for her!

Another memory invaded my thoughts: that short, odd, lonely period of time in which Charlie
had refused to go to the library altogether, since I had scratched her face and told her she’d
never get me redeemed, no matter what she’d try. Looking back, it – basically had been a
very bizarre, anguished declaration of love, but neither one of us had recognized it as such
back then.

(Husker had, though.)

There also was the embarrassing remembrance of me, waking up on the chaise longue – and
scrambling off Charlie’s panting, blushing body underneath me. Me, fleeing from her in blind
panic, resulting in me bumping into a bookcase and getting hit on the head by a downpour of
books.

And then even more memories started popping up.

The memory of Charlie, stammering she loved me after I had assaulted her irresistible mouth
with touch-starved lips.

The memory of me, excitedly watching other sinners roam around freely in this room,
opening books and giving undiscovered tales a try.

The memory of us, the two of us, sitting here, holding hands and enjoying each other’s
company, reading. Just… reading. Nothing more, nothing less.

This old library, this mysterious, secluded, isolated bit of the hotel, hidden in obscurity on a
scarcely visited floor… it had meant so much for the two of us. More than I could ever put
down in words, most likely, but that didn’t matter! I was willing to give it a try nevertheless.
It was for Charlie, after all – and for her, I’d do practically everything.

Pulling out the red cord I had kept safe and sound in my housecoat’s pocket, for extra
inspiration, I returned to the chaise longue and sat down. With a sharp snap in my fingers, a
notebook and a fountain pen appeared, and I thought long and hard about how to even begin
this soon-to-be-written message. It had to be good, but… I was a talker, not a writer.

Hm.

This might take some time after all.

AaA
Perhaps I had underestimated this whole ‘writing a masterpiece of a wedding proposal’ a bit,
because by the time I finally felt satisfied enough with my notes and looked up from the heap
of crumbled up paper chucks surrounding me, the old clock hanging on one of the library’s
walls kindly informed me that it was past 9 o’clock already.

…good golly.

I had spent nearly four hours on writing something that was supposed to be a fairly easy task
to do. Four entire hours – my oh my, I hadn’t seen that one coming, ha ha!

Well, thank Lucifer’s old man and all of Charlie’s unconventionally flaky uncles that my
darling was allowed to sleep in today: I doubt she’d be very pleased, waking up and seeing
both me and her beloved bookmark missing, first thing in the morning. Especially after a day
as turbulent as yesterday was, and after she had very clearly told me she wouldn’t give me
another chance to explain myself to her. Just think what an awful situation I would have
gotten myself into, hadn’t Charlie been granted the luxury to snooze for a while longer! Ho
ho – I surely dodged a bullet there!

But no, I knew everything was perfectly fine. I even had some extra time to spare, judging
from that clock: Charlie never got out of bed before 10 o’clock, when she was allowed to
sleep in. If I returned to her bedroom now and got myself dressed, I’d even still be able to
carefully prepare myself a bit for all the questions Charlie would no doubt have in store for
me, once she’d woken up.

Very pleased with how everything seemed to work out in my advantage, I put away my
notebook and pen, quickly dismissed all of the rejected scraps of paper in the trash bin and
got up from the long couch, dusting myself off.

Right – time to reunite myself with Charlie!

AaA

Unfortunately enough, reuniting myself with Charlie had to wait for a while longer, or so I
found out upon reentering the bedroom, because Charlie seemed to have disappeared.

What?

Dumbfounded, I stared at the tidily made up bed and the pure and utter lack of adorably
sleeping princess lying in-between the sheets – and I did this for a much longer, much more
agonizing time than probably was needed. Then, eventually, I decided to, well… get dressed
already, since that seemed to be the most understandable thing to do at the moment.

As I changed my clothes, my puzzled mind still tried to wrap itself around the current
situation.
I – didn’t understand?

Certainly, it was Monday, normally a workday like every other day, but – why on earth would
Charlie already be out of bed now? She never let an opportunity to linger around in bed
longer go to waste, absolutely never, so why…

Hm. I suppose it was possible some sort of emergency had happened. Charlie was the
manager of the hotel, so she’d be needed or at least expected to appear and help fix things in
that case. Then again, if there really was something of an emergency going on, I’d most
likely have heard and seen more about it – some crying sinners or a screeching fire alarm
alerting the rest of the inhabitants of the hotel, for example… but the hotel’s corridors and
altogether ambiance had seemed to be perfectly ordinary when I had made my way back to
the bedroom through the hallways. Peaceful, even.

Another possibility was that Charlie had simply gotten the munchies all of a sudden, and
therefore rolled out of the bed earlier. Now don’t get me wrong, Charlie had always been a
pretty grateful and enthusiastic eater – but lately, her need for food (and especially sweet
food) seemed to have increased drastically. Not that it worried me – quite the contrary, in
actuality! The lovely princess was remarkably slender and thin (with the exceptions of her
chest area and her shapely behind), so if she happened to become a bit chubbier thanks to
these powerful desires and cravings… Well, I wouldn’t mind it at all. Oh, no. The more
supple flesh for me to pinch and fondle to my heart’s content, I’d say!

But I digressed.

Since there was nothing left for me to do in the bedroom, I departed the chamber the second I
had gotten myself dressed. Loitering around in here any longer wouldn’t do me any good
after all, and the lurking radio audience in the back of my head nervously told me I should
make haste, get out and find Charlie already. The sooner, the better.

Determined to track my dear darling down, I decided to check the kitchen and the dining
room, next.

AaA

There was no Charlie in the kitchen.

There was no Charlie in the dining room.

And there was no Charlie in any of the other public rooms I briefly checked, either.

If that wasn’t problematic enough already, I also found myself being unable to find Vaggie,
Niffty or Husker. There was no trace of the four of them, none at all, and I got more and more
irritated, the longer I fruitlessly looked around the manor-turned-hotel. I had an inkling that I
was missing out on something, that I was forgetting about something important… it was on
the tip of my tongue, but I just couldn’t get a grasp on it.
Meanwhile, the hotel itself steadily grew more lively by the passing minute. In time, I started
stumbling upon degenerates and lowlifes, sitting themselves down in the otherwise empty
corridors on neatly arranged chairs. They all worriedly watched me pace back and forth, no
doubt wondering about what could be on the creepy Radio Demon’s mind. And while I didn’t
care about them, or about what they thought of me (I never bothered myself with that, so why
start now?), their strangely specific sitting-and-waiting-behavior did catch my attention. Aha
– so there truly was something mildly special going on today, it seemed.

Or not?

I was about to approach a female peacock demon (no special reason why I picked her out of
all the present sinners, she simply happened to be the nearest one) and ask her about the
whereabouts of Charlie and/or any of the other missing hotel staff members… when a door of
one of the smaller, private rooms suddenly swung open. Vaggie appeared in the door opening,
letting out a uninteresting, bumblebee-shaped demon fellow. She looked fatigued, but in a
good kind of way – and she smiled awkwardly when said sinner took her hand and shook it
up and down, like her arm was an old-fashioned water pump.

“Thank you, Ms. Vaggie – I never thought I’d ever be able to talk so willingly about all that
transpired back then, when I was still but a young flyer, dwelling the land of the living... but
you sure proved me wrong! Even though it has been just a few sessions, I already feel so
much lighter now! So much braver! Maybe, not too long from now on, I can actually
overcome my crippling fear of heights and finally use my wings, without having to weep or
shake every time I try to flap them!”

Observing the two bug demons interact, it suddenly dawned on me.

But of course, it was Monday.

Therapy day.

“Yeah, uh, you’re welcome, Bert.” Vaggie’s laugh was shrill and forced as she pried her hand
out of the sinner’s. “Just – you know, remember to avoid flying around and landing with your
eyes closed. At all costs. Because let’s not forget that this habit of yours didn’t work out all
that great for you when you were a professional balloonist in life.”

The bumblebee-creature laughed gawkily. “Yeah, you can say that again! Just ask that family
of four that joined me on that very last trip, ha ha – or that sorry guy my basket crashed onto.
Man, some explosion that was!”

“God fucking dammit, I fucking knew it was you!” a tall, muscular, Yeti-like person suddenly
yelled out, dramatically tossing the magazine he was reading on the ground. He then stomped
towards Bert, while making rolling-up-sleeves movements with his hands (even though he
wore no sleeves at all). “I was about to get away with all that fucking loot, too, but no, noooo,
your stupid, bitch-ass balloon basket just had to crash on top of me and the bomb!”

“Oh shit,” the bumblebee yelped – but before the Yeti and he could engage in an one-sided
and profoundly boorish fight, my black tentacle-creepers emerged from the red carpet, right
after I had repeatedly hit the ground with my microphone stand. My nimble, extra pairs of
arms immediately leaped up and wrapped themselves snugly around the two vile
troublemakers, hoisting them high up into the air, where they couldn’t bother anybody
anymore. The tentacles didn’t need to do anything else with the (now terrified) sinners, and,
frankly, these ne’er-do-wells should count themselves lucky: in spite of being annoying and
hindering me greatly, they still got to live for another day. How very nice and considerate of
me indeed.

“Why if it isn’t Vaggie!” I managed to sort-of-jovially greet my colleague, and briskly passed
through the dark, wiggling vines (understandably, I fragrantly ignored the squealing sinners
being held captive right above me). “Not the person I wanted to see the most, sadly enough,
but you’re still much better than nothing at all. I believe it’s my turn to see the shrink now!”

Vaggie looked at me, her one eye an almost closed, thick line. For some reason, she seemed
to be disappointed in me, even more disappointed than she usually already was, and one of
her arms pointed sternly to the couch in the room behind her.

“Yeah, it’s your turn alright. Sit.”

A snail-like demoness looked up in confusion and for a fleeting moment, I thought she was
going to voice it was actually her turn now (which it was, most likely). I grinned widely as I
stopped in front of her, flashed my sharp teeth at her and made an off-handed, ill-boding
gesture at the tentacle-spectacle writhing energetically in the middle of the hallway.

“Before you speak up, dear madam, do know that there is room for more bothersome
nuisances in there.”

Naturally, the puny thing shrieked and hid herself underneath the chair. She left behind a
nasty trail of - well, slime, hopefully – as she did so.

“Would you stop scaring the clients shitless, you damn freakshow,” Vaggie snarled, cutting
off my fearsome cackling by snagging me by the shoulders and subsequently hauling me
inside of the small room. “Now sit your thin ass down in that sofa and tell me what the fuck
you think you’re doing already!”

I sneered at her, not intimidated in the least, and instantaneously shrugged her hands off of
me. “May I kindly suggest you keep your grisly little moth-claws to yourself, Vaggie – that
would drastically lengthen your lifespan here in Hell, I can promise you. Also, it would be
nice if you stopped screaming at me like that. I’m not really in the mood for one of your
hysterical spats, in case you haven’t noticed yet.”

“Oh I noticed,” Vaggie huffed, glancing at the loud ruckus in the hallway one last time before
closing the door and heaving a deep, agitated sigh. “Goddammit Alastor, you can’t ever do
things… normally, can you?”

I gave her a benignant smile. “That’s simply not my style, my dear. You should know that by
now.”

Vaggie groaned, decided to deny my comment’s existence altogether and sat down on the
other armchair in the room. Her lonely, pinkish, hostile orb leered at me.
“So?” she barked.

I narrowed my eyes and raised an eyebrow. “So what?”

“So where the hell were you this morning?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business and I don’t remember telling you that that’s the
reason why I wanted to see you.” I stared haughtily at her. “Listen, Vagatha, why don’t you
just tell me in which room Charlie is, hmm? Then I’ll be out of your stringy hair before you
know it and you’ll be able to merrily carry on your delightful psychiatrist-duties, as much as
your fragile self-assurance desires.”

But Vaggie angrily shook her head. “I’m not going to tell you shit, you bastard – not after that
stunt you pulled off this morning!”

“What stunt,” I wanted to know. “What are you even going on about?”

“What, are you destructive and stupid? Fucking hell, Alastor – do you have any idea what
Charlie looked like when she walked into the kitchen a few hours ago? Have you seen her
eyes, all red and poofy?”

“I—”

“No you didn’t – because you were fucking gone when she woke up!” Vaggie groaned out
loud, leaned back and shook her head at me, like she hadn’t ever seen anything this
nonsensical before. “Right after I had convinced her to give you another chance. Shit. Really,
Alastor – what the fuck? Why did you rat out on her like that, again?”

“Now wait a minute, I didn’t ‘rat out’ on her at all!” I snapped back. “I was convinced she
would stay in bed for much longer, hence why I thought it wouldn’t matter if I left the room
for a bit.”

Vaggie groaned again. “It’s Monday, Alastor. Charlie, me, Niffty and Husk all have
therapeutic sessions with our clients today. Sure, Charlie didn’t have to take care of breakfast
and therefore could get out of bed a little later than usual today, but not multiple hours later!
Not with appointed patients waiting for her! You should have known that!”

“That…” My shoulders slumped down a bit. “That, unfortunately enough, completely slipped
my mind, I must confess.”

“How fucking ironic: the single day you weren’t supposed to fuck up in any way, and you
fucked it up royally, before the sun had even risen. Congratulations – you’re the goddamn
bitch of Karma Town now.”

That little wench.

I had wanted to say something cold, brutal and cruel to her, something that would break her
spirit and drive her to tears. Just to show her, for once and for all, that she shouldn’t get on an
almighty overlord’s nerves like that. However, much to my annoyance, I actually found
myself silently agreeing with her. Deep inside, I had known beforehand that it was a gamble
to leave Charlie alone, especially in the vulnerable state of mind my sweetheart was the night
before. In my hurry to go and fix my past miscalculations and errors as soon as possible, it
seemed like I had only made more grave errors, instead.

…I hated to admit it, but yes, that was painfully ironic indeed.

“Why did you even do it in the first place?” I then heard Charlie’s friend ask, making me
look up at her. “What made you get up and leave?”

Hm. Something told me that telling Vaggie the first reason I left (I was bored) probably
wouldn’t give me many sympathy points. So instead, I went for the (actually just as truthful,
yet a lot better-sounding) second reason: the urgency to prepare Charlie a wedding proposal
to die for.

Just as I suspected, the moment the word ‘proposal’ slipped past my lips, Vaggie’s demeanor
changed… for the better, mostly. She still looked a bit conflicted, but in general, it was like
her entire person was given a popsicle to soothe and distract her from the inconvenient
decisions I had made today.

“You – went to the library? To think up a wedding proposal?” Vaggie crudely summed my
explanation up.

I nodded. “That I did.”

“Okay.” The mothy young woman folded her legs together and watched me intently. “Tell me
more about it.”

Now, I blinked. “What – why? It’s not for you!”

“Yuck, thank god for that.” Vaggie made a disgusted face, but then she got serious again.
“Look Alastor, I know Charlie will probably be done with her current client in about half an
hour. You can talk to her when she lets them out, without disrupting anything serious. So in
the meantime – tell me more about your wedding proposal. Maybe I can give you some
pointers, to help you out.”

“Ha! Why would I need pointers of her rejected ex-lover,” I scoffed.

“Because you’re about to become one as well if you don’t accept all the fucking help you can
get, you prideful douche.” She smirked. “But okay, fine, go on and keep acting like an
asshole – who knows, you might even end up becoming the mayor of Karma Town. Then
you’ll be sorry.”

I cocked my head. “I’m sorry, but how is being the mayor of Karma Town worse than being
the bitch of Karma Town?”

“Uhm—”

“As a mayor, I can at least make some groundbreaking changes in Karma Town. Like doing
something about the town’s waning infrastructure, for example.”
“I… what the actual fuck are you even sayi—”

“I’m saying your dumb analogy makes no sense, you daft cow.”

That sudden insult wasn’t appreciated, I could tell. Vaggie started to tremble like a leaf and
got angry, red spots around her neck. Soundly, nay, wonderfully rebuked and caught off
guard, she glared at me.

Her unabashed rage amused me quite a bit I had to say, and I enjoyed its furious beauty to the
fullest, before I eventually snickered: “But alright, my dear, alright! I got the message, loud
and clear. Don’t pull a muscle now – I’ll humor you! I’ll tell you all about my wedding
proposal, if you’re so desperate to hear more about it!”

“Fuck you,” Vaggie hissed, her upper lip curled up – but she also nodded. Ah, the duality of
women…

And men.

After all, it was, without a shred of doubt, a laughably minor chance... but I had to keep in
mind that that still meant there was a small possibility that Vaggie was right. So like she had
suggested: I was willing to accept all the advice people were willing to share with me right
now.

Everything to prevent the worst from happening.

VvV

Fuck that fucking assfuck of a fucking fuck fucking fucker – I swear to God, why Charlie had
ever fallen head over heels for this guy – this… this despicable, honing, laughing piece of
shit – I was sure it would always remain a fucking mystery to me.

He was just – such an asshole! Such a worthless, self-centered trash bin, filled with wasted
potential, messed up dreams and bad, evil deeds and thoughts! Always thinking about
himself and his needs, first, never sticking up for others, always leaning back with glee as he
watched chaos unfold, never once trying to make things better… fuck, I could go on for
hours why Alastor was the biggest bastard I had ever met down here in Hell. I could, and
nobody (except for Charlie, maybe) would even try to deny it. That was just how much of a
total nutjob he was.

But I wouldn’t go on about it.

Because I… could see him now.

The more often I talked with him like this, half-bickering, half-joking, the more I saw of the
man behind the eternal psycho smile. The man Charlie saw.

Right now, Alastor was enthusiastically talking about what he had thought up, concerning his
wedding plans with Charlie. He told me about where they’d hold the wedding, what the place
would be decorated like, who was going to be invited, who was going to prepare their
wedding attires, who would take care of the rest of the hotel that day, who his best man was
going to be, who Charlie’s maid of honor would be— wait.

“Me?” I heard myself interrupting his wild stream of words.

Alastor looked at me, a bit surprised, and nodded. “Yes – you. Naturally. You seem to be
amazed to hear this. Why is that? I know this is just me, thinking out loud and assuming
things, but I think it’s not too farfetched to believe you are most likely the only suitable
person to be Charlie’s maid of honor. You’re her best friend after all – you are special to her.”

“You… wouldn’t mind her ex-lover to… be present on such an important day? And to have
such a big role, too?” I asked.

“No?” Alastor seemed profoundly confused. “Why would I mind? You’re not her lover
anymore. You two broke up before Charlie and I started getting romantically involved. You
never tried to take her away from me and you were kind enough to give me tips on how to
handle her urges. Besides, you might be her former lover, but you’re not her former friend.
You are still her friend, after all. Her best friend, even. I acknowledge and I respect you for
that.”

“Huh.” I forcibly batted my one eyelid and pursed my lips together. “Tall words for the prick
that called me a daft cow just a little while ago.”

“Admit it dear, that analogy was pretty daft.”

“…yeah well, so is your damn face.”

“Hitting me where it hurts! Ouch!” Alastor’s amused grin grew wider. “Please, you can’t
blame me for biting back every once in a while, now can you? It’s only fair. You have a way
of really getting on my nerves, after all… But – that doesn’t automatically mean I despise
you. I don’t, namely. Not at all.”

“Hm-hm,” I said, rolling my eye.

Alastor snickered. “Oh, you’re free to despise me anyway, by the by! I—”

“I don’t – despise you.” I sighed and frowned at him. “I don’t like you, Alastor. I will never
like you, ever. But despising you… that might be taking it too far.”

“Oh my,” he muttered. “Well, I feel honored to have gained at least a little bit of respect from
you, dear Vagatha! Who knows – maybe we’ll even end up as good friends one day!”

I shot an angry glare at the Radio Demon. “Don’t call me that – and don’t push your luck,
you damn asshole: you still messed up gigantically with Charlie. I understand now that you
meant well and shit, but – your timing, Alastor, fucking hell!”

Alastor’s smile decreased and he folded his hands together, leaning his chin on top of them.
“Yes, I know. That could have been better.”
“You really need to read the fucking room before you go do stuff like this – and before you
try to be her knight in shining armor, it’s more important to prove to Charlie you’re not the
villain, first!” I continued. “And taking off that fucking bookmarker thing off her finger as
well… Christ man, you don’t just drive into a cavern of doom, you fucking race to it, don’t
put your seatbelts on and set your car on fire before you even take the fucking plunge!”

“Oh!” He was impressed. “Now that’s a good analogy! Or is it a metaphor?”

“It’s neither one of those. You know what it will be, though? The end of you and Charlie, if
you don’t fucking fess up your secrets to her.”

I stared at him, urgently.

“Do you get what I mean, Alastor?”

He didn’t evade my look and I noticed his lips lost even more of their original curve and
confidence. Slowly, he moved his head up and down, gripping his own hands firmer. Charlie
must have seen him like this more often, I comprehended: unsure, conflicted. Lost at what to
do, what would be best for him to do. Maybe he even looked kind of defeated, in a way. I saw
him like this now, and it was weird… it was so weird.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t ask her to marry me just yet, then,” he said.

“You know you’ll only confuse and antagonize her further, if you propose to her in the
current circumstances,” I told him.

He nodded. “I – yes. I see where you are coming from. It would be – quite absurd.”

“There is just one thing you should focus on now.” I lifted up my eyebrow. “Want to tell me
what that is?”

“Revealing the truth to Charlie,” Alastor (shockingly obediently) said. “And I will. The day
isn’t over yet, after all. Why, it has only just started! So – it will all be alright. I know it will
be.”

Just like that, his smile was firmly back in place again – and goddammit, I felt a small smile
creeping on my face, too. I guess I had to give him credits for being such an impossible
optimist. No matter how hopeless things seemed to be, Alastor had this raw, enticing energy,
this… determination that could inspire pretty much anybody to never give up the fight, no
matter how dark and grim the future seemed to be.

Kind of reminded me of somebody else I knew, to be honest.

Goddammit – they were fucking perfect together.

Who knows what kind of person Charlie could become, with someone like Alastor on her
side, supporting and encouraging her all the way.

Who knows what kind of person Alastor could become, even.

He better not fucking mess this up again.

VvV

I woke up from my stern stupor when I saw Alastor taking out the red cord out of his pocket.
He gave it a tender look, so tender that it made me feel embarrassed for seeing him like this,
and I quickly cleared my throat – as a solid reminder to him he was still here with me,
Vaggie, the easily-triggered chick that used to date his precious princess.

Not that he appeared to really care about that, but still.

“Let me guess – you were planning to propose to her with that dumb thing, weren’t you?” I
wanted to know.

“I still am planning to!” he said, looking up with a sudden jolt (fucking freaking me out,
dammit). “Eventually, that is. But… it probably would have been smarter to measure
Charlie’s ring finger’s size with it, before snatching it from her. I want to use my magic to
make some sort of ring out of this cord, but…”

“Fucking pathetic loser.” I grabbed my armchair, stood up with it and moved both me and the
piece of furniture closer to Alastor’s sofa. Once there, I dropped down in it again and flung
my hand in Alastor’s stupefied face. “Here you go.”

He moved away from me, his face looking like I had just made him the most appalling offer
he had ever heard.

“Please remove your unappetizing, ugly little hand out of my—”

“Charlie and I have the same size, dipshit,” I impatiently told him. “I know because I once
bought her a – non-wedding – ring and used my own finger to see if it fitted. It did. So knock
yourself out.”

Just like that, Alastor’s face lit up. It positively fucking sparkled, dammit, and I shut up when
he started wrapping the red string around my ring finger. I casually observed him when he
did so. It was almost funny to see him like this: his gaze was fixed and creepily intense, but
his hands' actions were careful and punctual, handling the bookmarker with the utmost care
and showing me once more just how much Charlie meant to him – how far he was willing to
go for her.

I could at least help him an unappetizing, ugly little hand with that.

Also, there was still one thing on my mind.

“When you talked about the wedding proposal, you – said you’ll pick Angel Dust,” I
mumbled.

“Hmm?” Alastor hummed back.

“As your best man.” I swallowed. “Not Husk. While everybody knows he’s the closest thing
you have to a best friend.”

“Ah, well.” Alastor chortled and put a tiny knot in the cord. “I wouldn’t do Husker a favor
with making him my best man, trust me on this one – he woke up as a demonic cat in Hell for
a reason, ha ha! No, Husker’s better fit as my best barman at the wedding. Furthermore…”

“…yeah?”

He looked up at once, startling me again (fucking damn shitlord).

“I think you would like it better for Angel Dust to be there with you, wouldn’t you?”

Oh.

Angel, being there with me and experiencing up close, together with me, how the relationship
of two people helped us – try to figure things out for ourselves, too.

A warm feeling seeped into my chest and something in there squeezed together really tightly
for a second or two, before I let out an annoyed huff and looked away from the grinning shit
lord.

“J-just hurry the fuck up already, Charlie’s probably almost done by now.”

I had expected Alastor to cackle and keep asking for more details, like the pestering jackass
he was. But thankfully, his attention was on the bookmarker again, and I could just stupidly
sit there and be just as stupidly happy about something that probably wasn't going to happen
in the first place, but fuck it.

Fucking fuck it.

Let me be positive for once.

If someone like Alastor could be, in spite of everything, than I sure as fuck could be like that.

I could at least try to be.

AaA

“Just one sec, Escargoldie,” Vaggie told her next patient in line, as we left her counseling
room, “you can already get in, I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”

As soon as the cautious slug-demon had given her a small nod, Vaggie gestured me to follow
her... to the very next door, right next to hers.

Ah.

But of course Charlie’s counseling room had be the room right next to Vaggie’s.
I wasn’t too annoyed, though. Oh no, heaven forbid – talking to Vaggie had helped me
putting things back in perspective again, so I, for one, was glad Vaggie had taken the time to
hear and chew me out! I was going to do things the right way now: telling Charlie what she
wanted to hear from me, giving her time to recover from it and then – and I wasn’t sure when
‘ then’ was going to be, but it would be some time before ‘now’ – ultimately asking the
charming Princess of Hell to please become my angelic wife.

Things perhaps would turn out even better for me, in many, many ways!

Ha ha! Oh my goodness – that Vaggie! She really was one heck of a therapist, now, wasn’t
she? I had even started to take her seriously! Just what were the odds!

“Well, it’s all up to you now,” Vaggie said, pointing at the door. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“With your blessings? I could never,” I smiled.

She shook her disgruntled face at me and presented me her middle finger, before hurrying
herself back to her three remaining clients. She left me in the presence of at least – oh, six to
eight other sinners, all waiting for their turn to speak with Doctor Charlie. It was a fairly large
assemblage of sinners, especially if I compared her amount of clients with those of Vaggie.
And she probably had already spoken with some sinners already, as well.

Oh my. My talented, much beloved Charlie’s Mondays were much busier than I expected! I
should keep that in mind...

Before too long, the door to Charlie’s little therapy room opened up – and I instantly
straightened my back. The room appeared to have a window located to where the sun was
shining outside (or it was my imaginative mind playing tricks on me), because when her
pretty, delicate silhouette came into view, it was surrounded by the brightest light I had ever
seen down here, in Hell.

I bit the inside of my cheek in admiration of the beautiful sight. Goodness, what a suitable
manifestation – what a wonderful aura, for an angel like Charlie.

She saw me standing in front of her and approached me with quick, steady steps.

I exhaled and willed my anxious heart to calm down. “Charlie, my love, I—”

-SMACK–

The vicious strike that hit my face had enough strength and white-hot rage within it to
momentarily stun me and it sent my monocle flying through the corridor – I heard the glass
break as soon as it fell to the ground. With my perplexed and completely overthrow mind
drawing a blank, I pressed a hand to my pulsating, scratched cheek and turned my face
towards Charlie.

I had never seen her like this before.

Her hair was a raving and rabid flurry of gold and blonde. Her sclera had turned blood red,
with in the middle of it irises that were two vile, frightening shades of yellow. Her pupils
 were nothing more but thin, cold splits, brimming with fury. I saw two long, sharp horns had
sprouted out of her head and her facial features seemed to be almost reptile-like – so hard, so
inhuman.

So demonic.

“You want to send me to Heaven,” she heaved her words, her voice both heavy and soft at the
same time, “even though you know how I feel about leaving my sinners. How much I care
about them. How hard I fought to get where I am now.”

“Charlie…”

“It doesn’t mean anything to you. Does it? Absolutely nothing. Only your goals matter. Only
your plans count. Well guess what, Al?”

I tried to take her hands. “Charlie, please let me ex—”

“You will never get me to Heaven.”

She slapped my hands away and stormed off right after, leaving the hallway behind with a
collection of terror-stricken sinners and smoldering footsteps, burned into the carpet. Not
long after that, Vaggie burst out of her room, took one good look at what was happening, and
sprinted after Charlie, calling out her name in a pleading manner.

I – simply stood there, numbed, watching them both leave. A small, hesitant coughing noise
made me turn my head to the side, and then I saw him. He seemed to be just as bewildered as
the rest of us was, his partly-restored Angel-wings sheepishly hanging downwards.

Bob.

Chapter End Notes

An arrogant miller tells the King his daughter can spin gold from straw. The King does
the only logical thing: he locks the girl up in a tower room filled with nothing but straw
and a spinning wheel and orders her to spin all of the straw into gold before sunrise – or
else he will cut off her head! Of course, the girl doesn’t know how to do that and fears
the worst. Then a magical imp appears, who promises her he’ll spin all the straw in the
room into gold, if the girl gives him her necklace. She does and the imp does his thing.
The next day, the stupefied King locks the girl up in a bigger straw-filled room and gives
her the same conditions as the day before. Luckily, the imp shows up again, and spins all
the straw into gold in exchange for the girl’s ring.
Then the King gets even nastier: he tells the miller’s daughter that she needs to spin the
biggest third straw-room into gold, and if she manages to do that, the King will marry
her (because nothing says ‘I love you’ more than a death threat). The imp returns that
night, but now the girl doesn’t have anything to offer him anymore… that is, unless she
gives him her firstborn child. In tears, the desperate girl consents, and the imp spins the
straw into gold.
The King and girl marry shortly after and when their first child is born, the imp comes
back to the Queen, demanding she gives him her baby. The Queen tries to persuade him,
offering him all the riches the castle has – but the imp is only interested in the child.
Finally, however, he agrees to give up his claim to the baby if the Queen can guess his
name within three days.
Before the final night, a servant of the Queen happens to stumble upon the imp’s home
in the woods, and sees him dancing and singing in there: “The Queen will never win the
game, for Rumpelstiltskin is my name!”
When the imp comes to her the next day, the informed Queen feigns ignorance for a
bit… but then she reveals his name! Rumpelstiltskin loses his temper and runs away
angrily, never to be seen again.

This fairy tale, collected by the Brothers Grimm, has many new, modern versions in
which they try to make the King (that’s right, the KING) ‘nicer’ – for example, by
making the miller’s daughter lazy. It doesn’t help much: for many people, the greedy,
pushy King will always be a bigger bastard than Rumpelstiltskin.
 Schrödinger's Cat
Chapter Summary

Now that Charlie no longer wants to talk to Alastor, what is he going to do next?

Chapter Notes

The chapter's name is not a fairy tale, fable or myth this time, but a well-known (and
often wrongly interpret) thought experiment. Now - I'm not a scientist or physicist in
any way and I don't know all that much about quantum mechanics, so I apologize
beforehand if I wrongly described what Schrödinger's cat experiment was, or was meant
to be about.
You may always correct me of course! However, please keep in mind that I purely used
the story of this thought experiment for fun and because I thought it fitted nicely with
this chapter. That's it!^^

See the end of the chapter for more notes

One would assume I should have felt a certain kind of relief, now that Alastor’s awful secret
had come to light at last.

It was the right thing to do. It was. I was certain of it.

Yet, when I saw Princess Charlotte’s whole persona change for the worse, right in front of my
very eyes… when I saw how she slapped and yelled at Alastor, before running off in rage…
when I saw Alastor standing in the door opening after all that had occurred, his scratched-
open cheek dripping blood on the floor and his expression completely detached from this
world...

I heavily doubted that same certainty.

“You told her,” was all that Alastor said to me.

“No – she asked me,” I hurriedly corrected him, folding up my still aching wings and hiding
them away in my jacket again. “She explicitly asked me. I – you know I cannot lie. Angels
cannot lie. I was able to keep her in the dark for so long because she never suspected who I
was, because she never wanted to… study my feathers from up-close.”

He only stared at me. The blood oozing out of his face was making me feel feeble to the
stomach. It was such a dark shade of red, it might as well could have been black.
“The princess was different today,” I hastily carried on, understanding that the Radio Demon
was not going to say something. “She felt… aloof, lethargic. Almost as if nothing mattered to
her anymore. It hurt my chest to see her like that, so I tried to cheer her up a bit by praising
her, telling her it was thanks to her excellent care and therapeutic sessions that I was starting
to feel better, that – that even my wings seemed to recover faster. That seemed to spark some
interest in her and she asked if she could see my wings. I – I said it was okay.”

Alastor sighed, but that was it.

I looked down, to my lap. “I had no choice. I spread out my wings. She – saw them. She was
impressed and said they were beautiful. That they reminded her of her uncles’ angelic wings.
She grew silent after that and then she suddenly asked me whether or not I happened to be
related to an Angel, perchance. I attempted to change the subject, but it was futile: Princess
Charlotte was persistent and her sudden interrogation of me was short, yet steadfast. She
insisted I answered her questions, so I did. I had to. That is how she found out who I was,
before I came to the hotel. And that is how she found out… my connection to you.”

Alastor raised a hand to his face and finally seemed to realize he was bleeding.

“I did not break the deal you and I made,” I stammered, starting to feel more than helpless
here, with Alastor not responding to a word I said. “You have to believe me – I hardly said
anything at all. The princess figured out all of your secrets by herself. She simply put two and
two together, and that was that. Her subsequent line of questions only required a ‘yes’ or a
‘no’ from me as an answer – and then my scheduled time with her was up. I tried to tell her
that there was more to it than she thought, but she ignored my repeated pleas, walked to the
door and opened it. And then you were there. And then… you know the rest.”

The silence that followed felt like a thick smog, slowly smothering me.

“I should get my cheek treated,” Alastor eventually said.

Now it was my turn to stare at him.

“Is… is that all you have to say to what I have done?”

He nodded. “That is all.”

“But I have just destroyed your happiness.” I gritted my teeth and let my head hang even
more, my blonde bangs dangling in front of my face. “I was going to help you, but I ruined it.
Now you will die, for naught, and she will be stuck down here forever. I feel so ashamed. I –
please, Alastor, I need you to say something to me. Anything. Please.”

“In that case… I’m glad to see that the therapy sessions with Charlie are working out great
for you, Hakim.”

W-what?

I made a surprised, choked up noise and jerked my head up, that felt unspeakable heavy with
desperate tears and pent-up frustration over this whole situation, up at once.
But there was nobody there anymore.

HhH

Well Monday turned out to be one giant mammoth-dump of a day. Jesus Christ.

I didn’t get the gist of all the shit that hit multiple fans that day right away, because my
crummy little counseling room just happened to be the one furthest located of all the uproar -
just my fucking luck. So during the time a furious Charlie marched off and left behind a
terrified group of sinners and a hallway engulfed in small pieces of ember and simmering
furniture, I was fucking busy. Busy putting tiny matchsticks in-between my fucking eyelids
to keep them from falling shut as I listened to a very boring sinner with an even more boring
life story (I was like 89% sure the sucker had ended up in Hell because his life had just been
too fucking boring).

I fucking missed all of it.

I still found out about Charlie’s outburst anyway, but much, much later that afternoon, when I
was finally done listening to whiny dead criminals. After that, hell I became acutely aware of
the evil lava-graveyard-aesthetics that going on outside of my room - as soon as I took one
fucking step outside.

Didn’t take me all that long to come to the ‘shocking’ conclusion that Alastor had fucked up.
Again.

Not going to lie: looking back on all of his elaborate plans, his crazy schemes and the
misguided, leaning on childish optimism he had while preparing them, no matter what
happened, I wasn’t even a little bit surprised about this outcome.

Alastor fucking things up was getting older and moldier than a disgusting, ripe cheese – and
likely just as smelly. But what can you do about it, huh? And what can the cheese or Al do
about it? Nothing! Absolutely nothing at all!

Fuck. Where was a bottle of whiskey when you fucking needed it, damn it!

HhH

Around dinner time, when things seemingly had calmed down a bit again, it was Vaggie who
told me Alastor’s Stockholm Syndrome-loving victim Bob had apparently spilled the beans
to Charlie, before Alastor himself had been able to tell her. The princess had allegedly
smacked the tar out of the poor bastard when Alastor tried to explain himself, and then she
had fled to her bedroom, locking herself up. It was a precautionary measure, Vaggie had said,
because Charlie had supposedly gone full-demon and therefore feared she might lose control
and start hurting people if she didn’t hide herself away from the rest of the hotel.
“Sooo… when will she get out of her room?” I asked Vaggie, who stared at a sad piece of
bell pepper on her plate like it was a fucking dead child.

“When she’s calmed down,” Vaggie responded.

“Huh. And when is that going to happen?”

“I’m… not sure.” She put a part of the green vegetable in her mouth and started to gnaw on
it. “I’ve seen her demonic side more often, but – never like this.”

I hummed and looked around the table. We sat in the quaint kitchen, with just a select
collection of sinners and hotel employees: me, Vaggie, Alastor, Niffty, Bob and Angel Dust.
The rest of the hotel’s inhabitants were eating in the dining room. Charlie liked to share all of
the meals with the hotel’s sinners as much as possible, and while that had slowly started to
become customary (thanks to Alastor and his international-breakfasts-kink on Sundays),
Vaggie had decided it was better if the sinners just ate on their own for the time being.

They didn’t need to know more about what the hell was going on in the hotel than was
necessary, because it wasn’t like we knew, Vaggie’s reasoning was – and I couldn’t really go
against that logic.

Charlie’s fit of rage had left all of us in disarray, I noticed as I let my eyes glance past the
long, dour faces sitting at the kitchen table. Vaggie was as pale as a sheet and had been
chewing on that bell pepper for minutes now. Angel Dust, getting antsy because of the
gloomy atmosphere, couldn’t stop moping and complaining about the food (“Why the fuck
do these burrito’s only have gross-ass bell peppers in them? Green ones, even!”). Niffty had
started cleaning up a random spoon and didn’t blink even once as she kept polishing and
polishing it, in this obsessive, compulsive manner. Meanwhile, Bob – who apparently was
allowed to sit with us because he was in cahoots with Alastor or something, I guess – could
just as well have been a lifeless statue in all fairness, and finally, Alastor…

Oh fuck, Alastor.

Let’s just fucking skip telling what he looked like, because I swear his fake smile was such a
despairing sight to behold, it was enough to make a fucking grown man bawl like a damn
baby. Good thing everybody was too distressed to watch me grumpily dab my wet eyes with
Vaggie’s pink ribbon.

Maybe I was an old fool, but fuck me if I didn’t take pity on Alastor, that lanky moron. I
maybe even had almost said something remotely friendly to him (although I only had empty,
untrue consolations at the ready for him), but before I had started opening my mouth,
Vaggie’s sharp, angry voice already rang through the room.

“I think it’s about time you told us, Alastor – about whatever the fucking hell you’ve been so
adamant on keeping secret for so long. Not just from Charlie, but from the rest of us as well.
Because whatever you had in store for her, probably had something to do with the hotel and
the sinners as well. Isn’t that right?”
“In a way,” Alastor vaguely answered. He looked ridiculous with that purple, heart-shaped
band-aid Niffty had lovingly slapped onto the wound on his cheek, but nobody was in the
mood to laugh about it.

Vaggie sat back in her chair and glared at him. “The time for acting like a cryptic troll is over,
Alastor. You see what all that sneaking around and scheming has rewarded you with: a
fucking messy break-up with probably the only person in Hell who saw something good in
you, in spite of everything. Congratu-fucking-lations. You just got dumped. How does it
feel?”

“I didn’t get dumped,” Alastor said. “I think.”

That was the most depressing thing I had ever heard him say.

Well fuck.

Looks like I needed more of Vaggie’s ribbon.

“Blow your goddamn nose on my bow and I’ll make you piss from your navel, you washed-
up alley cat,” Vaggie warned, puffing her cheeks up like an angry blowfish as she sternly
pushed my paws away from her head. She subsequently looked back at Al, sighed and
brought her hands up to her temples, gently rubbing them.

“Look, just – ugh, just tell us already, Alastor. What did you have planned for Charlie, why
did you plan it and what is up with it now?”

Alastor looked at her and thought carefully about his words, bringing a hand to his chin and
tapping it lightly.

“So these are the questions you wish to have answered. The exact, same questions Charlie
got her answers for. Yes?”

Oh.

Oh no.

No no no.

Vaggie, not noticing the bewildered expression I shot at Al, nodded. “Of course! I want to
hear all the answers she heard!”

“Well, incidentally, she didn’t get answers to all of these questions, to be fai—”

“Doesn’t fucking matter!” Vaggie, taking the bait, slammed her hands on the table, making
Niffty shriek and Bob flinch. “These are the questions we have, and we demand you answer
them! Don’t you fucking dare wringing your way out of this now!”
Alastor chuckled weakly, insistently ignoring my alarmed look. Angel Dust, realizing one or
two things for himself, too, looked fairly stressed all of a sudden as well – but he did a pretty
good job on looking cool and unaffected anyway. Bob, in the meantime, simply continued
being an unresponsive brick. So I guess he was just normal.

“Calm yourself down, my dear, no need to flip your lid – I’ll happily answer these
questions!” Alastor easily said.

“Al,” I began – but Alastor immediately shook his head at me.

“No no no, my friend, the mothy lady is right: they have the right to know what I have been
planning, why I planned it and how far I got with it. Just in big lines, though: it’s honestly not
all that difficult to connect the dots together, once I’ve gotten started. A quick heads-up
before I’ll speak up though: perhaps some of you will like me even less after I’ve finished
talking about my plan. As far as that is possible, of course. But alas, that’s a cross I’ll have to
bear!”

No, I wanted to snap at him, no – do give us the fucking detailed version – do fucking tell us
all about what the fuck’s going on, who has been willingly helping you out all along and
what’s going to happen to you! Don’t you fucking take all of the fall yourself – don’t you
fucking have the nerve to leave out the things that make you look better than you’re doing
right now!

But I didn’t say anything.

I didn’t even try to intercept.

“Ready?” Alastor kindly asked Vaggie and the rest of the people sitting at the table, weaving
his long fingers together and effortlessly hiding the hideous scar on the back of his hand.
“Then allow me to explain my amusing little scheme to you worthless lowlifes.”

I could only sit there, glued to my chair, and helplessly listen to how Alastor’s words
unveiled the truth.

Not all the truth.

He didn’t say a word about my involvement in his plan since day 1.

He didn’t say a word about how Angel Dust helped him out during the power outage, on the
day he went to meet up with the Heavenly being sent from above.

He didn’t say a word about how said Heavenly being was now voluntarily supporting and
encouraging his goal.

He didn’t say a word about the end game of his plan.

And he— didn’t say a word about his upcoming demise.

It wasn’t all the truth, but it was all the truth. Since it was all the truth Charlie had learned.
As long as she hadn’t heard the full story, first, like he had promised he’d tell her, nobody
would hear the full story.

God damn it, Al…

God fucking damn it all.

VvV

So.

In a nutshell…

Alastor had wanted to send Charlie to Heaven, because he thought she was too good for Hell.
He didn’t ask her if that was okay with her – no, he just decided it was okay. Behind Charlie’s
back, he had schemed and planned and manipulated I-don’t-know-how many people around
him in order to have an Angel (a.k.a. Brooding Bob, who fucking knew?) descending down
from Heaven. Then, he fucking kidnapped that Angel and forced him to stay in Hell, in
Charlie’s hotel, so that he could judge Charlie’s suitability for Paradise. But Charlie
apparently didn’t meet all the conditions yet. Apparently, she was well on her way to get
Bob-Approved anyway, but then – Monday happened, with Charlie basically telling Alastor
that his plan was a fucking bust and that she wasn’t going to dance to the radio host’s tune
anymore. The end.

That was what shitlord told us.

Of course, reactions of me, Husk and the others varied:

Angel Dust bluntly said he thought Charlie was a ‘prissy little overreactin’ drama queen
who’s crown was still too heavy for her to wear’ and agreed with Alastor’s statement: Charlie
belonged in Heaven, even if she acted like 'a mean hissy bitch’, and she should just cash in
her wings already, period.

(…since the way he put it was surprisingly artsy, I begrudgingly accepted his usage of ‘bitch’
in this context.)

Meanwhile, Niffty felt that she was ‘way too tiny and stupid’ to ever get what went on in
Alastor’s head anyway and therefore had no opinion on the matter whatsoever, but she did
mention that she hoped the Charlastor-ship wasn't sinking. I – wasn’t entirely sure what the
hell she was even talking about, but whatever: I had learned to just shut out the crazy part of
Niffty’s words for a long time already.

Husk and Bob didn’t say anything at all, but Husk was uncharacteristically, genuinely pissed
at Alastor and angrily stormed out of the kitchen shortly after his friend was done talking. It
kind of amazed me, to be honest: yes, I knew Husk was pretty fond of Charlie and all, but I
had no idea he’d be that disgusted with Alastor’s scheme. He didn’t even do as much as look
at him as he slammed the door shut.
Bob, on the other hand, looked like he was getting torn apart by all kinds of emotions from
the inside, and he just sat there, hunched over his scarcely-touched plate.

As for me?

Tsk. I was more than ready to just eject that damn Radio Demon out of Charlie’s hotel and be
over and done with him already, of course.

He had hurt Charlie. Badly. For that alone, I wanted to kick his bony ass into the deepest pit
of Hell so damn hard, he’d even feel it burn over the next couple of centuries.

And yeah, sure, looking from a certain angle to his plan, I guess you could argue that his
intentions were ‘good’ and even kind of romantic at the heart of it – but god, the insane logic
behind this scheme… the way his plan was executed… all the people he had misled, lied to
and hurt… the fact he simply didn’t give a flying fuck about Charlie’s stance on the matter,
or about what would happen with the hotel and its sinners, once Charlie had ascended to
Heaven…

All of that was fucking despicable.

Thus when that awful Monday (and later also Tuesday and Wednesday) had sluggishly
passed by, with no signs that – a heartbroken and still very enraged – Charlie was going to
leave her locked bedroom anytime soon, I made up my mind, for once and all.

It… was time. Finally, I was going to do something that I should have done much, much
sooner this week…

Which was looking up Alastor and blatantly command him to help me out with managing the
hotel.

…what?

No, I wasn’t going to kick him out, not now – come on, the already chaotic hotel was getting
more disorganized and hysterical every freaking day, now that Charlie refused to pick up her
duties! Husk, Niffty and even Angel Dust did the best they could to aid me, but other than me
and Charlie, only Alastor had some experience in handling the hotel and all the shit that came
with it. And I hated to admit it, but the hotel could use all the support that was available right
now.

So that meant I needed to stop avoiding Alastor and bite the damn bullet already.

VvV

Alastor, who was mostly loafing around in the hotel’s corridors all miserably these days,
seemed downright astonished to hear me ask order him for his assistance.

“Are you sure you want my help, dear? You still know who I am, right? The Radio Demon!
And you happened to be quite angry with that devilishly handsome fellow,” he mockingly
reminded me, one of his brows quirked upwards. “Why, even good old Lucifer was more
enthusiastic to see me at that party of his, and then I’m talking about a man who was literally
planning to exterminate me!”

I stared at him. “He what now?”

Alastor cracked a faint smile and easily hand-waved his comment away. “Oh, never you
mind…”

“Well, anyways… I know I was mad at you – can you fucking blame me, you scheming fuck
– but I could really use some assistance on managing the hotel right now. Don’t worry, you
bet your imaginary ass I will give you plenty of judgmental stink-eye later, when things are
back to normal again. For now, however… just help us out, alright?” I frowned at him, then
looked over his shoulder, to Charlie’s bedroom door. “Or are you too caught up in stalking
Charlie, like the sad loser you are?”

He clacked his tongue in mild annoyance. “Silly Vaggie – it’s hardly considered stalking if
the target’s out of the stalker’s reach either way.”

“Okay, slightly freaked out you didn’t deny my jokingly-meant accusation, but I’ll let it
slide.” I gave him a disapproving, yet also somewhat worried glance. “No offense, Alastor,
but damn, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“This? Oh this is nothing,” Alastor said, laughing my comment off. “You should check up on
me again when I’ve stayed awake for yet another week. I swear that in time, the bags
underneath my eyes will sprout bags underneath their bags, too!”

Instead of trying to figure out what the fuck he was even saying, I heard myself mutter:
“You’re really taking this hard, aren’t you?”

“Ah. Well. My dear, I could give a very sarcastic and mean-spirited reply to that insultingly
stupid question of yours, but let me just nod my head dismissively instead.” Alastor said,
nodding his head dismissively. “Truth be told, I could feel worse, I’m sure, but that’s
probably because I’m still progressing Charlie’s… words.”

I saw what he did there and groaned, scratching my head. “You’re also still stubbornly
clinging to some shreds of hope, aren’t you.”

“Naturally.”

“You really don’t know when to give up.”

He smiled and turned a little bit, to look at the room Charlie had holed herself up in. “I like to
tell myself that as long as the door to her bedroom is shut, Charlie has neither rejected, nor
forgiven me. The unknown answer is still up for debate. Or, to put it simply: anything still
goes!”

“Thought-experimenting like that will keep your sanity grounded, I guess,” I shrugged, also
looking at Charlie’s bedroom. “For a while, at least…”
My voice trailed off when I took a good look at Charlie’s chamber. Ever since Charlie had
stashed herself away, her bedroom – or, more specifically, its door – had completely changed
its appearance.

All of the hotel’s bedroom doors were a different, yet nice kind of red, and Charlie’s bedroom
door used to be the same. Hell, Charlie had been so dead set on having the exact same kind of
room as those the sinners got, that she in the beginning used to walk into the wrong bedroom
constantly. She didn’t want to be or act differently from the rest of her clients and staff
members, even though she still was the head manager… and the Princess of Hell.

I didn't question it, that was just who Charlie was.

But Charlie’s bedroom door now…

All of its red color had faded to a deep, dark shadow of nothing but black. The material of the
door itself, the doorknob – everything was just black now. Other than that, the doorpost and
the wall around the dark door had vicious, sharp cracks in it, covering much of the entire
surface – almost as if Charlie had slammed the door shut a bit too violently after stamping
into her room. And then there were these… small, burning crevices surrounding the door and
sullying the damaged wall. Gray, foul fumes of weird-smelling smoke leaked out of all the
small openings and holes non-stop, so I had opened all the windows on this floor, to at least
keep the fire alarm from going off.

For someone who hated getting extra attention purely based on her heritage and her position
as a royal, Charlie sure was making it obvious which bedroom was hers now. But then again,
maybe she couldn’t help affecting the furniture like that, or maybe she was doing it willfully,
but for nobler purposes, like for keeping people at a safe distance, so she wouldn’t harm
them. Angry and heartbroken or not, the being inside that room still was Charlie, after all,
and not some sort of evil… videogame end-of-the-last-level-boss.

“The situation is pretty hopeless, isn’t it,” I said out loud, shaking my head as I studied the
grotesque scene that was Charlie’s bedroom door. “I have no idea when she'll come out. Like
I said before, I – had never seen her this angry before. Nobody has ever managed to push her
buttons like that, not until you came along and fucked shit up. That’s quite an
accomplishment, I have to say.”

I mentally cursed at myself. Goddammit – it wasn’t supposed to come out all bitchy and
haughty like that, what fucking good would it do to start a fight with Alastor now, for fuck’s
sake – but it was too late, I had already said it. Shit. Me and my big mouth…

However, Alastor didn’t react like I thought he would. He turned to me and glanced at me
weirdly, with his clashing eyes, and then he silently beckoned me to follow him, away from
Charlie’s room. In most situations, I’d assume he was up to no good or maybe had some cruel
prank for me in store – but now, for whatever reason, I decided to wordlessly obey and walk
after him.

In another hallway, where Charlie wouldn’t be able to hear us (as far as she was even
occupied with whatever the hell me and Alastor were doing), the Radio Demon told me that I
was wrong.
“You said that nobody had ever pushed her that far, right? That you had never seen her this
angry before. Isn’t that so?”

“Yeah?” I nodded, narrowing my eye. “What’s wrong about that?”

“About the latter part? Nothing!” Alastor said. “I’m willing to believe you never annoyed
Charlie to the extend I did – and good for you, I suppose, since that means you never saw her
lose her temper like this. But you were wrong about the first part – about that nobody else has
ever pushed her this far. I’m fairly sure Charlie has been like this before… and I’m also fairly
sure we can actually do something about our current plight, if we just ask the right person for
help.”

I understood what he was hinting on and felt my eye spread itself in awe. “You mean…”

“Yes: we should ask Lilith to come over and have a little talk with her daughter!” Alastor’s
grin got something hopeful again. “Of course you and I never saw Charlie like this – we
probably haven’t been in Hell long enough to have ever witnessed this daring side of our
lovely princess!”

“I do recall hearing some… rumors about her, back when I hadn’t met her in person yet,” I
slowly admitted, “and remember when I… warned you about her? I’m starting to think
that… well… what if that has something to do with…”

But I acutely stopped talking like that when I realized Alastor wasn’t listening to me
anymore, but instead was fucking feeling me up, god fucking dammit that confusing asexual
pervert!

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I snarled at him and was about to yell and cuss at him, when he
snatched my phone out of my pocket with his long, creepy fingers and started tapping his
nails on the screen like his damn life depended on it.

“Wha – hey! That’s mine, asshole! Give it back!”

“You can ring her up!” he said, while I yanked my phone out of his grizzly hands and started
rubbing his Alastor-bacteria off of it with the hem of my dress. “I know Lilith’s phone
number by heart – seems like witnessing Charlie call her mother so many nights was good for
something after all – and even though I doubt she’d like to talk to me, I’m sure she won’t
mind it if Charlie’s far more kinder ex-lover pays her a little call. Especially not if she knows
it’s about the well-being of her little ‘apple beignet’.”

Alastor beamed a huge, confident smile at me, but I wrinkled my forehead, giving him a
critical look. “I’m not so sure. Last time I met Lilith – not counting that time they came over
to the hotel for lunch – she was pretty… indifferent. She didn’t seem to care all that much
about Charlie, or her hotel. It kind of broke my heart, every time I saw Charlie trying to get
something of a reaction out of her parents, preferably out of her mother, and failing time after
time. I think the Queen isn’t a really good or involved mother. I... I could try and give her a
call anyway, but... just what good would that do? She probably won’t even bother hearing me
out.”
“I respectfully disagree,” Alastor simply said.

“Oh – is that so, wiseass?” I snorted. “You know something I don’t?”

Alastor put his hands on his back and grinned widely at me – a rather big, crude and
unsetting grin, even. Suddenly seeing him exposing all of his pointy, yellow teeth like that
startled me a bit, but I kept my face straight. Much to my annoyance, Alastor didn’t elaborate
on what he exactly meant to say with that sly fuck-face of his, and continued staring at me,
his eyes flicking from the phone in my hands to my baffled expression.

Did… Alastor have some dirt on Lilith?

“You know what – fine,” I huffed in the end, unlocking my phone with a quick flick of my
finger. “I – I hate talking to… not-very-well-known-people on the phone and I also don’t like
talking to Lilith in general, but let’s just ignore that combination of two of my dumbest fears
for now. You seem to know what you’re doing, you damn con man, so I’ll… give her a call, I
guess. What’s her number?”

Alastor told me – and as soon as I had found a quieter place, I dialed the number.

BbB

I cannot stress enough how lost, desolate and disconnected from the world around me I was,
after all that had transpired on that cursed Monday. I was a mere husk from the person I was
trying to become on that day: a wretched, lonely being, with slumped shoulders and a wound
on his heart that felt too big to heal.

Was this what so-called ‘heartbreak’ was supposed to feel like?

If so, I did not like it.

In all seriousness, the sole reason I was still walking around and functioning somewhat
decently, was because I felt like I had to – like I owed it to both Princess Charlotte and
Alastor. To Princess Charlotte, because I had pushed her over the edge with my unguarded
stance and irrational desire to please her. And to Alastor, because I had been the one to tell
the princess about his dark secret – and he had not even punished me for it. According to
what his strange cat companion had told me a bit later this week, Alastor apparently had been
planning to confess his evil deeds to Princess Charlotte that day… and I simply happened to
have been a tad faster than him, ruining it all for him.

Knowing this, however, gave me… mixed feelings.

A part of me felt terrible about playing a part in destroying Alastor and Princess Charlotte’s
relationship. That was not what an Angel was supposed to do. As an Angel, I should fight
against evil and terminate wicked beings from roaming the world of the good and living – not
indirectly break up two people who obviously were very much in love with one another and
seemed to complement each other wonderfully.
Another part of me tried to reassure me that I should not feel bad about happened to them,
since Alastor was an evil human soul to begin with. Perhaps he had indeed intended to
expose his secrets to her and perhaps she would have forgiven him, but it would be ignorant
to think that a serial killer – please let us not forget that the man used to be an actual serial
killer – would somehow not wind up hurting his lover again. I had done the princess a favor
by telling her what she wanted to know. That is what this part of me desperately tried to tell
me.

And then there was this… very small, very sinister and very twisted part of me. A part that I
had not known before. A part that timidly whispered to me that I had done well, and that this
could be my chance. Alastor had given up. The princess was hurt and vulnerable. Whatever
would stop me now from taking a shot at…

…oh lord how much I feared and loathed that part of me. Disgraceful.

Fortunately enough, this rotten side of me was nipped in the bud when I discovered, over the
course of the following days, that Alastor, notwithstanding the grim circumstances and the
dire situation he was in, seem to recover from his initial shock rather smoothly.

He had been down in the dumps for a short while as well, understandably… but then, from
one day to the other, he had all of a sudden raised his head up high again and helped Princess
Charlotte’s friends and employees out with running the hotel to the best of his abilities. I was
flabbergasted to see him like that, briskly wandering around the hotel, talking to sinners,
instructing the staff, doing all the things that the princess used to do with relative ease, like
nothing bad had happened to him at all. Like his heart was not in shambles. Like his hope did
not get smashed to pieces. Like all was still going to be fine.

How was that even possible?

“’Cause it IS going to be fine you silly willy,” Niffty happily told me one day, when she and I
were busy sweeping and cleaning the entrance hall. The hotel was expecting an important
visitor, or so I was told, so I had offered the little ladybug lady my assistance, which she had
instantly accepted.

I was crouching on the ground with a dustpan and brush, nearby a small pile of dirt and dust,
and looked at Niffty questioningly.

“You think it is going to be fine with the princess and Alastor?”

“Yea!” she said, baring her sharp fangs in an odd, but not hostile fashion, and carried on
dragging the broom – that was at least three times her size – around like it weighed nothing.

“Why is that?” I wanted to know. “You are aware that there is a gigantic chance that – none
of all this will end happily, are you not? That the chance things will end well for Alastor is…
practically just a foolish fantasy.”

“Oh ha ha yea I know that!”

“Then why—”
“’Cause Al still believes it’s going to be alright. You noticed as well right?? And if he
believes then so will I ha ha.” She leaned on her broom for a minute. “I’m just going to
believe that everything’s going to be okay in the end. Nothing’s wrong with that right?”

“Even when it will not be okay in the end?”

“If it’s not okay, it’s not the end,” Niffty easily stated.

That soundly shut me up.

Stupefied, I resumed performing my cleaning duties in silence, while Niffty put on her bright
yellow headset and began dancing around the entrance hall rhythmically, swinging her broom
around like it was a dance partner, smiling from ear to ear like there was nothing burdening
her.

I envied Niffty for her impressive carefreeness.

I envied Alastor for his endless determination.

I envied everybody who was able to live their afterlife relatively happy, down here in Hell.

And yet, as I sat there on my knees, on the cold, sooty floor, covered in dust and cobwebs, I
felt I was smiling. Something tugged on the corners on my mouth and for once, I did not fight
nor question it.

I simply let it happen.

III

“Should… should I wait here with the vehicle, Your Cruel Highness?”

The imp servant that had helped me get out of the Royal Magnemobile (that was what my
darling Luci liked to call it, and who was I to spoil his fun and call it something different than
that) looked up at me, a mixture of fear, desire and a deep-rooted respect clearly visible in his
dull eyes.

I still got it.

Obviously.

Observing my sweet apple beignet’s ambitious hotel-project right in front of me, I smiled
phlegmatically. I then placed a hand on my robust, curvy hip, its naked, flawless skin peeping
out of the silky material of my split dress, and shook my head at the gawking servant.

“No. You should return to the palace, if you please. I think it will be a while before I’m done
here.”
 He swallowed, squirming a little. “May I… may I be so bold to ask you what business you
have at this pathetic place, Milady?”

Oh my. I smiled a bit wider at the tiny demon and bowed myself seductively towards him. I
made sure he had to do his best to try and not stare at my well-endowed breasts almost
pressing him in the sweaty face, and I put a single, thin finger underneath his quivering chin.
I tenderly moved it up and down over his skin, nonchalantly drawing blood as my finger’s
nail got less and less and even less tender.

“No. You may not.”

Chapter End Notes

Say that a cat is placed in a sealed box for one hour, together with a container of
radioactive material, a small machine that detects chemical particles, a hammer and a
container with deadly cyanide. There is a 50/50 chance that within one hour, a single
radioactive particle will be emitted. If this doesn’t happen, then the hammer won’t drop.
However, if the machine does record the particle, the hammer will drop, break open the
container with cyanide and kill the cat. When you open the box afterwards, the cat will
be dead or alive, depending on what happened. But prior to opening the box, the cat is
both dead and alive.
You know why that it? It’s because nothing about matter is certain until you have
observed it.

This is the thought process that is also known as the Copenhagen Interpretation of
quantum physics. It claims that simply looking at all matter can change the outcome of
what happens to it… but the Austrian-Irish physicist Erwin Schrödinger (1887-1961)
found that so ridiculous, he made up this theoretical cat-experiment. The primary focus
of the experiment is that prior to observation, the cat is both dead and alive,
simultaneously. But would you really be able to somehow influence the cat’s fate if you
spend an hour staring at that box, hoping to prevent a certain outcome? No you
wouldn’t.
So while Schrödinger claims the Copenhagen Interpretation may be correct when it’s
about smaller, singular particles of matter, he also believes it’s incorrect when it’s about
larger objects, like – well – a cat.
 The Snow Queen
Chapter Summary

Lilith visits the hotel to try and find out what is going on.

Chapter Notes

The amazing artist and fanfic-writer Frumpy made a beautiful piece of art for my
Library-fic! <3 <3 <3 It's absolutely amazing and you should check it here!^^

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Hardly had I taken a single step inside of the hotel, or I was greeted with the unusual sight of
both Charlie’s ex- and current lover in the entrance hall (how very odd that Charlie kept both
of them around and that they weren’t trying to skewer each other’s brains to a pulp, by the
way). They were complemented by a fair share of crooks, felons and ‘others’ my daughter
had employed as her faithful hotel minions, and they all stared at me – attentively,
expectantly.

It’s good to be the Queen.

Watching all of them cluttered together like this, I came to the conclusion that they definitely
were a… colorful group of sinners:

A cute, nervous-looking moth girl.

A smiling red waste of space.

A drunk cat.

A – whatever that white-and-pink thing with eight eyes was trying to be.

An adorable little cyclops child.

A Hakim.

And that was all that—

–wait, a spider. Yes, that white-and-pink thing was a spider person of some sorts, I suddenly
came to realize, and I smiled contently to myself for knowing at least that much about Earth
and it’s many bizarre critters and creatures.
Well done, Lilith. And well done, Raphael: seemed like your silly crash courses on humanity
were actually good for something after all. I better tell Charlie later, to prove to her I do care
(a bit) about the sinners in Hell – at least enough to vaguely recall what kind of disgusting
animals they apparently are supposed to resemble... when put on the spot, that is.

But still. Small victories are also victories.

I cradled my head in my hand as I observed the group of sinners surrounding me. So these
amusing individuals made up Charlie’s dream team, didn’t they? What a perfect ragtag bunch
of hopeless misfits and laughable oddballs.

I didn’t believe I had ever formally met them before, and I can’t say I was all that impressed
by them… but I had to admit that there was a hint of unmistaken solidarity emitting from
them. It had ‘Charlie’ written all over it and it was an absolute delight to experience: my
darling daughter was such a good influence on these losers! I almost felt proud.

However, speaking of misfits, oddballs and losers – there seemed to be one particular one
missing here. A rather important one, at that.

Charlie herself.

Note to self: better not call her all those things in front of her.

“Queen Lilith,” Alastor started, a tad too vigorously if you’d ask me, “I’m so very glad you
—”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t answer your social call sooner,” I brusquely cut the Radio Demon off,
making sure he couldn’t utter another word. I then smiled at the spider man, who saw I had
started taking off my coat, and he helpfully held out his hands at me. “Ah – thank you, dear
dead criminal. Now, as I was saying, I apologize I couldn’t drop by sooner. It must have been
terribly inconvenient. Trust me though: it has been a thorn in my flesh to only have been able
to stop by Charlie’s establishment now.”

III

Sad but true: it had already been almost a week since Charlie’s former girlfriend had called
me with the request to please come help them out.

I had felt a bit ashamed to tell her I couldn't come right away, no matter how much I had
wanted to. I simply wasn't able to: lately, Lucifer and I were getting swamped in all the work
his freeloading brothers made us do.

Like he had said he would, Michael had been snooping around the Royal Palace and found
out that Lucifer was far behind on his governing administration. Believing that that might
have been one of the causes for Hell’s ridiculous overpopulation, the righteous Archangel had
heavily scolded Lucifer and said he and the other two wouldn't leave Hell, or at least not
before that bureaucratic mess had gotten sorted out.

Michael had promised to help him out, though, so Luci, who secretly-yet-not-so-secretly-at-
all enjoyed receiving all this attention from his usually-aloof older brother (even though most
of it was just a load of critique), didn’t really have another choice but to actually do some
ruling-work for a chance.

Meanwhile, Gabriel – who turned out to be a surprisingly eccentric and annoying Angelic
being that got bored at the drop of a hat – wanted to know more about Hell and it’s numerous
‘hot spots’. He even fervently encouraged me to join him and Luci’s other brothers, whenever
they were about to visit more ‘fun places in the Underworld’.

‘Fun places in the Underworld’.

Like Hell, a haunted, dark place reeking of despair, hatred and tormented souls that couldn’t
find any rest and suffered each and every day of their ghastly afterlife, all thanks to the
dreadful misdeeds they did in life and the mind-numbing guilt that chased and tortured them,
was some sort of an amusement park.

Hell wasn’t an amusement park. It was eternal damnation.

But Hell did happen to have a couple of amusement parks. Luci had even built one himself
and gleefully called it Lu Lu World, like a proud infant.

…I loved Lucifer dearly, I did, but sometimes, I just did not get that man.

In any case – while Michael demanded Luci and I would do our actual jobs and Gabriel
wanted us to have more ordinary, road-trippy fun, Raphael insisted we should also try to learn
more about the sinners we reigned over. I hadn’t felt much excitement about that last bit in
particular: I had never learned anything from all that had happened in my endless life and I
was perfectly content with keeping it that way…

…until Luci’s blind brother ‘Raph’ kindly reminded the pillar right next to me that putting in
some effort to get to know the criminals in Hell would probably mean a lot to our lovely
daughter.

Knowing that Charlie hadn’t been in the highest of moods the last time she had said goodbye
to me (which was quickly becoming something of a recurring phenomenon during most of
our family gatherings), I had quickly agreed to Raphael’s preposition, and there you have it.

Lucifer and I were working these days. Like peasants.

But not today.

Today, I was going to help my sweet apple beignet and her little hotel gremlins out.

To be perfectly honest, since the explanation given to me on the phone was fairly…
incoherent, I hadn’t understand what exactly was going on at our old vacation home yet. But
that was alright – I was going to find out soon enough, now wasn’t I? The most important
thing was that I was at the hotel today, like I had promised during that call, and I even arrived
around the time I had told them I would.

See? I was being such a good mother right now, it was almost suspicious. But as long as I
kept getting these unexpected, yet advantageous chances to reconnect to my estranged
daughter, you could count on it that I’d shamelessly take and milk every opportunity to do so
to the absolute fullest.

My daughter could count on me. Come what may.

Now let’s pray to my dear Luci’s neglectful father that I wouldn’t end up making everything
even worse.

Surprisingly, I had the tendency to do so.

III

Anyhow.

Upon seeing that everybody in the chilly hall was still awkwardly standing around, gawking
at me and steadfastly ignoring the obvious elephant in the room (even long after I had
stopped justifying why I hadn’t come to the hotel earlier), I chose to be the one to just voice
my thoughts out loud at last.

“So… where is your manager? Where is my sweet Charlie?” I asked to no one specifically,
and glanced around the entrance hall as I pulled my dark purple gloves over my fingers more
tightly. “As quaint it is to see all of you sinners greeting me like the brave cretins you are, I
had liked it if my darling apple beignet would have been a part of the welcoming committee,
too. But I see she’s absent. And I haven’t heard the reason of why that is yet. Somebody care
to elaborate?”

The sinners looked at each other, but nobody seemed to think that this was their turn to rise
up to the occasion and speak up. Eventually however, Alastor gave his – colleague, I presume
– a sudden nudge to the side, making the (already anxious) moth girl jump up and shriek in
surprise.

“You heard the good woman, Vagatha: explain the situation to her. To be fair, I was of the
opinion you had done so already, by the by...”

“Wha—but I—I did! I already had—”

“You had,” I intercepted her with a sigh, already being irked, “but I’m afraid I couldn’t catch
a word of what you said on the phone, dear. You… blabbered. Quite a lot.”

“Oh,” Vaggie mumbled, looking down dejectedly. "I'm sorry. I'm... no good on the phone."
"You can say that again. You even put me to shame."

“Whoa, whoa! Now that's just cruel to say!" the spider man all of a sudden piped up. "Don’t
be so hard on her, it's not like she fucking meant to flub!”

Looking away from Vaggie, I blinked my eyes at him. “I know she didn’t mean to. Still
doesn’t make it any less bothersome, however. Her ‘flubbing’ literally prevented me from
understanding what's going on here and why my presence was required – and I don’t want to
be rash, but judging on the grim air and distraught expressions I see around me, the situation
is rather dire. Had I known that beforehand, I might had tried to come sooner.”

Did I explain myself well enough? I think I did. Chalk up another bonus point for Lilith.

The fazed spider demon didn’t have an argument to counter mine with at the ready and
muttered a barely audible, halfhearted apology, while placing his hands on Vaggie’s shoulders
and giving her a light squeeze.

Wasn’t Vaggie a proud, self-proclaimed lesbian?

Oh well.

I left the two - lovers? - and the rest of the more useless people in the entrance hall for what
they were and turned to Alastor.

Ugh, Alastor.

Although I rather didn’t pay too much attention to Alastor (I was just getting so sick and tired
of this unpredictable man and his ridiculous shenanigans), it swiftly became clear to me that
he probably was the only one present here who’d be capable of telling me just what was
going on, without being too impressed by everything that I was.

“You there,” I therefore pointed at him, before the deer man could open up his yap. “Current
weird object of my daughter’s affections. Will you tell me what is going on and where
Charlie is?”

I saw his mismatched eyes seeking contact with those of Vaggie and the cat man, strangely
enough – a quick, fleeting moment of uncertainty. The second the other two sinners gave him
a resigned nod back however, a toothy, fake grin spread over the entirety of Alastor’s face, as
he made a small curtesy, followed by a grandiose gesture with his arm towards the large
staircase in the entrance hall.

“Well, Your Highness, why don’t I simply guide you to where your daughter is? We can talk
about everything that has happened on the way, if that is what Your Majesty wishes.”

“That is indeed what This Majesty wishes,” I dryly said, and instantly started walking, almost
waltzing over Alastor in the process. “Show me the way, Radio Demon. And do tell me
everything.”

III
Dead or not, Alastor was still a very skilled radio host who knew all about catchy phrases,
idioms and sayings – and I was very much aware he liked to play and juggle around with
words and sentences as if the act of smooth-talking was a set code in his personal DNA,
unable to break or erase.

So even though the stroll to Charlie’s bedroom was, as far as I remembered from a prior visit,
a fairly short one, Alastor had no problem effortlessly explaining to me what had happened in
the manor – really, I already was up to date about everything that had been said and done in
the past week(s) before we had even reached the right floor and hallway.

“I see,” I announced after he was done throwing light on the gloomy situation, “so thanks to
our mutual friend Hakim, Charlie ultimately found out about that insane plan of yours.”

“She did,” he said, without the usual, bombastic tone in his voice.

“A shame she didn’t hear about your zany Heaven-scheme from you, though.”

“No worries, Queen Lilith: I still intend to give Charlie the only true interpretation of my
plan: my interpretation. And nobody else’s. As… soon as Charlie’s ready to let me explain it
to her, naturally.”

“Hm-hm. She is rather mad at you. She even lashed out at you, seems like.” I gave him a
look, my gaze resting on the almost-healed scratch on his face. “Figuratively… and quite
literally. How refreshing.”

He let out a unconvincing laugh and briefly touched his cheek. “Oh! So you noticed, ha ha.”

“You said Charlie’s appearances changed drastically, the last time you saw her,” I continued,
without wasting my breath on replying to his comment. “Let me guess: she got red-and-
yellow eyes, there were horns coming out of her head… and I’m willing to bet her height
increased, her voice grew deeper and her entire person suddenly got engulfed in fire and
flames. Right? Burning everything that stood in her path to a crisp, before she fled to her
bedroom. Was it something like that?”

Alastor was amazed. “Exactly like that!”

“Then her usually dormant, demonic side has come out indeed.” I sighed, putting a hand on
my face. “Ah… it’s been a while. Mmm, yes. My dear daughter has such a mesmerizingly
dark side to her usual happy-go-lucky, sunny disposition. Don’t you agree? While it’s a
different kind of beauty from her more angelic looks, I’m positive Charlie must have looked
gorgeous to you like that. So strong. So relentless.”

“So crestfallen.”

My hand dropped from my face and I shot a glare at him, but Alastor didn’t look my way. He
kept his shoulders and back straight and his giant smile didn’t budge as we made our way
through the corridor – though he couldn’t conceal it from me. I had already heard it in the
timbre of his otherwise so very carefully and nonchalantly-spoken remark.
His obvious worry. His agonizing helplessness. And his sheer annoyance about the fact that
he couldn’t do anything about it.

Alastor was in quite the pickle, wasn’t he?

I clicked my tongue condescendingly. “Well well. So you don’t like this part of her, Alastor?
You, the brutal serial killer that looks like a demonic monstrosity himself, prefer the innocent
Charlie? How strange – most demons and sinner people I know seem to prefer the current
Charlie over the sweeter one. Not that it makes any difference: just like most creatures have
to accept that Charlie is a genuinely kind girl by default, you will have to deal with this side
of her rearing its frightful head every now and then. She may have been unfortunate enough
to inherit most of Lucifer’s Heavenly genes when she was born in Hell, but that doesn’t mean
that her mother’s wicked blood can’t act up. You know. Whenever Charlie gets provoked one
too many times.”

“I understand,” Alastor calmly said.

“Don’t let her usual easy-going and carefree demeanor fool you, Alastor. My daughter has
imperfections, just like every other living being has them. She has secret desires. Harrowing
regrets. Frustrations – oh, so many frustrations. And then I’m not even talking about all she
had to do in the past yet. Events she can’t erase and is still struggling with. These, all of the
things I just listed – these are all part of your lovely, flawed Charlie as well, Alastor.”

A cold smile twisted itself on my lips.

“How sadistic of you to actively reject that darker side of her.”

“Ho ho, that’s rich, I don’t recall telling you I reject Charlie’s darker side. Just like I don’t
think I ever told you about which side of Charlie I prefer in the first place. I wonder why that
is? Let me think about it.” Alastor comically rubbed his chin for the added special effect.
“Oh! That’s right: it’s because I didn’t tell you.”

I sneered at him. “Are you stating you don’t wish a specific part of her was in control all the
time?”

“My good Queen, I couldn’t care less about whatever part of Charlie is in control, as long as
she’s happy.” Alastor finally met my gaze. “And she isn’t happy right now.”

I didn’t react; I just watched him.

He went on: “Charlie’s not happy right now, and that malignant spirit she has taken the form
of is the direct proof and result of that. So if her truly ‘bad’ side is only shown at times like
these, when she feels like this – then no, Lilith. I don’t wish this part of her to take over
control. It would only reduce her to this – this deeply unhappy, tragic demon.”

Unhappy, tragic demon, hmm? My my. I smiled a little at him. Now that were some
interesting terms to describe Charlie in her current form. Very original. I don’t think I had
ever heard any of her former lovers in this last stage of their doomed relationship talk about
her like that.
But just like them, Alastor did seem to have conveniently forgotten what kind of demon
Charlie was right now, making him not that much different from the other lamentable guys
and girls she had been with after all.

I had been a fool to think he could have been ‘the one’ for her.

“You’re to blame for all that horribleness she is going through right now,” I helpfully pointed
out to him nevertheless. “You realize this, don’t you?”

He gave a curt nod with his head. “I acknowledge that – and I hereby pledge to make it better.
But I don’t know how. Not as long as Charlie refuses to come out of her room and hear me
out. She needs to calm down, first, before I can even think about a possible solution to the
existing status-quo... and that’s where you come in, Lilith. You do know this side of her. You
have seen it before. Am I right?”

“Yes,” I said.

We had arrived at Charlie’s bedroom door – and I had to do a double take after taking a
gander at the black portal in front of us. Seeing the state of her room’s entrance was in… it
astonished me, really. There were even cracks in the cracks! I slowly bit my plump, lower lip
while I studied the vile aftermath of Charlie’s outburst. Good lord, my poor, hurt apple
beignet most certainly was upset, that much was a fact…

Interesting. Very interesting.

“So you’ve seen it before? Marvelous!”

Ugh. Alastor’s annoying rambling brought me back to the here and now, and I tore my eyes
away from the door to grant him one exasperated look.

“Yes, Alastor: I have seen her other side. I have seen all of her. I’m her mother, after all.”

“Then you know what must be done to – undo this. What I must do to undo this. To make her
listen to me,” he immediately carried on.

“I have a hunch,” I admitted. “You won’t like it, though. Especially not you.”

“Oh, I don’t mind!” Alastor got so overcome with hope and excitement, he almost began to
laugh out loud. He put a hand to his chest and heaved in and out a few times, restraining
himself. “Sorry for that. But I knew it. I knew that there was a way – I simply knew that there
had to be a way to end this. Thank you, Your Highness. For – well, everything. That reminds
me, I… don’t think I even thanked you for everything you have done for me in the past, in
spite of—”

“When was the last time you had sex with her?” I impatiently interrupted him. I had no need
for gratefulness that was long time overdue – right now, I only wished to see my distressed
daughter and get a good reading on the state of affairs. I wanted to determine how I could
help her out, based on all the information I had been provided with.
My abrupt, unabashed, sex-related question stopped Alastor dead in all of his tracks, of
course. Slowly, a dark, embarrassed shade of red appeared on his face, letting me just how
much the sudden inquiry had thrown the prudish man off guard.

“Why is that important for you to know?” he asked.

“It just is. Believe me. Now tell me: when was the last time you slept with her?” I pressed on.

“At the party you and Lucifer organized,” he said, looking a tad flustered.

“But that has been almost two weeks ago.” I stared at him, realized something and felt my
jaw drop a little. “So – after the party, you both went back to the hotel, Charlie found out
about your lies a few days later and she subsequently sealed herself away. But does that mean
you two didn’t have sex since then? Not even a little bit?”

“What a ridiculous question.” Alastor seemed both irritated as well as confused. “Of course
not. Not even ‘a little bit’, no. In case you weren’t aware, Lilith, it’s quite difficult for me to
have intercourse with Charlie when A: she's very mad at me, and B: there's a locked door in-
between the two of us. Besides, sex has most likely been the last thing on Charlie’s mind in
the past week.”

“On her mind? Oh, you’re probably right about that,” I mused, as I moved myself to stand
directly in front of the bedroom’s door. “However, I’m not talking about her mind here.”

For the first time, I saw the sparkle of his smile disappear almost completely. It dimmed, like
a weak firework in a too brightly-lit sky, only leaving behind a hint of its original flare.

“What are you talking about, then?” he wanted to know.

“I’ll explain later,” I promised him. “For now, you must take your leave. I think I’ll be able to
talk to Charlie – I can hear she’s awake and rummaging behind that door – but I’m positive
she won’t open the door as long as you’re hovering and pacing around here, like some
expectant father-to-be. So go away. Shoo, shoo – off you go.”

“No.” Alastor ignored my swatting hand-movements and looked at the door. “No. You must
understand, I – want to see her. I need to see her. Even if it’s just a meager glimpse. I haven’t
seen her in days and I miss her. I miss her so much.”

I didn’t say a word as I watched the mask come off even more.

“Every day that passes is another day I can’t be with her – a day lost. I can’t afford to lose
any more days of not-seeing her, Lilith. Everything is slipping through my fingers and she’s
not there. She’s not there. She’s not there. And it pains me. It rips me apart, little by little. I
don’t know how long I can hold on like this. I don’t know how to hold on like this. Not
without her by my side. Not without her holding my hand until the bitter end. Not without
her.”

In all fairness, it was quite disturbing to, so very abruptly and randomly, see the calm and
collected Radio Demon break character like that – his posture tense and rigid, his black hands
clenched to shaking fists, his face no longer wearing a smile, but a paralyzed glower. It was a
grim reminder to me that even a professional and expert liar and fraud like Alastor had a
breaking point.

I felt a bit sorry for him. Truly, I did.

But it was too late. I couldn’t help him anymore. I couldn’t save him anymore.

“Go downstairs,” I told him.

“No.”

“Alastor.”

“Please.”

“It’s no use. You know she won’t open the door otherwise.”

“But I need—”

“She doesn’t need you.” I stared icily at him. “Not yet. She needs me. Now go, before I make
you go.”

Alastor’s face forcibly cracked open, split into a ‘smile’ again and he gave me a resentful
half-scowl, his aura rapidly clouding. Eerie, shrill radio noises clogged up the air as
quivering, strange symbols circled around him. It was a frightening look for him – probably
one of his most diabolical, I’m sure, and observing such a maniacal, high-strung creature
would have been very threatening and bone-chilling… had he faced anybody other than me –
or Lucifer, for all that matters.

But I had seen my fair share of rage and hate. To me, this was neither rage nor hate.

This was just sad.

A whole minute passed, and although I feared I might indeed needed to actually use violence
to get Alastor to leave (ugh, such a tedious thing to do), he fortunately decided to not make
things more troublesome than they already were by suddenly snapping his fingers and
disappearing in a black fog of dark magic, the sound of the loud, yet disheartening click
echoing through the corridors long after he had left.

Alright – at last that was over and done with. I sighed, fixed my hair a bit and turned on my
heels, bringing my hand to Charlie’s bedroom door.

“Charlie?” I started as I knocked my knuckles against the hard, pitch-black material of the
door. “It’s alright, my child. It’s all going to be alright. Mother is here.”

There wasn’t a response at first, and I was about to knock again when I heard a small voice
on the other side of the door.

“…mom?”
It was raw, barely audible and smothered by heartache.

“It’s me, yes.” I smiled and splayed my fingers against the bedroom’s entryway tenderly.
“I’m here to help, my sweet little apple beignet. Will you unlock the door for me?”

A strange, strangled, sobbing sound was the sole reply I got. For a moment, I found myself
faintly wondering just how much she had heard of Alastor’s pathetic whining just now. But
then the door was unlocked with a hesitant, bordering on gentle clack, and when it swung
open at last, I suddenly had better, more important matters to focus on.

DdD

So Charlie had this badminton court installed in the hotel’s backyard.

…yeah just stay with me here, I promise it’s going somewhere.

So, uh, according to one of Charlie’s fucking boring seminars, playing sports was a great way
to blow off steam and shit. She had said that it was way better to let out all that crawling
frustration hidden deep within us on the sports fields, than to let it fester on and on, until one
just had to sock some unlucky fool in the kisser.

Therefore she had decided to get a badminton court.

Not a basketball court. Not a soccer field. Not even a tennis court, no – a badminton court.

Why a fucking badminton court of all possible things, I had asked Charlie after that seminar,
and she had just grinned sheepishly at me and responded “I like badminton!”.

Hell’s next ruler-in-line, ladies and gentlemen. Such a fucking dumb – goofball.

Anyways, as I was saying…

After Queen Evil Big Jugs and Alastor had skedaddled to upstairs and left the rest of us hotel
residents and staff members behind, Vaggie was in a pretty bad shape. She couldn’t really
deal with Lilith being such a critical bitch, especially since the Queen had low-key been right
about Vags messing up the phone call – so I decided to take her outside, to the badminton
court, and play a game with her for a bit. You know, to get her mind off things.

Yeah I know the situation probably wasn’t the best for smacking a shuttlecock (heh heh,
shuttlecock – nice) back and forth, but for the love of crap – it wasn’t like we could do much
anyway! All of the people in charge of the hotel were busy or otherwise unavailable right
now: Charlie was still being an edgy recluse, Alastor had to play Mr. Tour Guide for Lilith
and Vaggie was too stressed out to do anything at all, so yeah, you bet your fucking face I
was going to play some fucking goofy badminton!

And believe it or not, it actually helped: while Vaggie didn’t necessarily cheer up, she at least
started functioning again and even yelled the most horrible profanities at me as my lame
serves let her sprint all over the court.
“Those be the cons of being a short little bitch with short little bitch legs,” I had mockingly
told her, “yer gonna lose to people longer than you!” – and that was all it took to have Vags
raging and running again, trying her hardest to prove me wrong.

So fucking adorable, holy shit! Look at her, all angry and fired up and stomping on her
racket every time she missed a hit (probably not at all like Charlie had wanted her to vent her
inner annoyances)! Fucking cute!

But yeah – that’s what we did while Alastor was informing Charlie’s MILF about – uhh,
everything. Just playing badminton and attempting to make the best out of the current
situation.

Since I was having more fun than expected, I even found myself thinking that I wouldn’t
mind spending the rest of the afternoon like this, with only me and Vags, screaming at each
other while chasing after a magnificently named badminton thingy. But at a certain moment,
Alastor suddenly fucking manifested himself right in the middle of the badminton court and
almost got hit in the face by a speedy cock.

Goddammit – I didn’t care both Vaggie and Alastor gave me funny looks as I toppled over
and wheezed, that was one glorious sentence that crossed my mind and you couldn’t
convince me otherwise.

“Alastor?” I heard Vaggie stammer at last, while I was still snorting. “What the fuck are you
doing here?”

“Well hello Vagatha, Anthony! So here you are!” Alastor’s distorted voice was wayyyy higher
than it usually was and his face looked like he was about to fucking shank a bitch, so that
sure as hell helped me with stopping my fit of laughter – I almost even fucking choked in my
giggles.

“I see you two lovebirds are making good usage of the badminton court! How wonderful!”

Vaggie and I exchanged looks, before I gave him a cautious nod. “Yyyea. Hey, uhh… you
okay, smiles?”

“No!” He laughed. It sounded more like he was wailing, though. “Oh ho, I’m most certainly
not ‘okay’!”

“What happened? Where’s Lilith – how Charlie?” Vaggie burst out, her stress-level obviously
rising steadily again – but I quickly walked over to her, shushed her and made Alastor focus
on me instead.

“So, uhh, you wanna play a game, Al?”

He shook his head so fast it almost made a complete 360-degree turn a couple of times.
“That’s a very temping offer, my good fellow – but I rather want to whack things to a
bloody pulp right now. So! Unless you wish to be one of those things, I suggest you and your
ladyfriend step back and let me be.”
Vaggie tried to say something. “But Charlie – what about Cha—”

“Oh we will definitely let ya be, my man – smack away!” I said – and I promptly tucked a
flabbergasted Vags under my arm, bolting off the court as quickly as I could while Alastor
snatched up a racket.

DdD

The first half hour, Vaggie and I stood and watched from the sidelines as Alastor sent all the
shuttles his kinky black tentacles threw at him flying. They all fucking hurled through the air
like feathery, burning bullets and I’m sure a couple of them must have swatted some poor
flying sinners straight out of the air.

It wasn’t a pretty sight, and in all honesty, it was kind of uncomfortable to witness Alastor’s
brutal, personal vendetta against every poor shuttlecock that was ever produced in Hell from
up close. But Vaggie, who had calmed down again, told me that she didn’t want us to leave
him on his own in this downright destructive mood he seemed to be in.

“I’m not sure yet what happened, but I am sure he came to us in order to prevent himself
from going on an actual rampage,” she said, folding her arms. “So let’s just… stand by and
wait for him to come back to his senses. I still want some answers after all.”

“He’s not doin’ rampages anymore?” I asked, now without looking away from the scene in
front of me, and I winced as one shuttlecock was effectively blown to pieces when Alastor’s
magically enlarged racket hit it like a fucking shredder. Whoa, imagine if that was an actual
cock.

Holy fuck.

Maybe not imagine that.

Vags shrugged. “Well Charlie wouldn’t like Alastor going on a murderous spree. He’s
probably not taking any chances.”

“What chances – the sucker is out of fucking chances. And yet, here he is, still grasping.
Even at a time like this.” I groaned. “Damn.”

Vaggie nodded at that, sighing softly. Then she gently pulled on my hem.

“This might take some time. Let’s sit down for a bit, Angel.”

I took her hand. “Alright.”

DdD

Eventually, after like an hour or so (I’m not kidding, the distressed dude was smashing away
at shuttles for an entire hour in total), Alastor had finally eliminated enough innocent objects
to his liking – and he was panting heavily as he flung the demolished racket on the sports
field. It had been abused so much for the past hour, I was almost surprised that it didn’t blow
up in a giant explosion when it landed on the ground at last.

I perked up upon seeing him look around and setting his stare on me and Vags, and even
though I wasn’t certain whether or not this was the right thing to do, I ended up calling out to
him anyway.

“Yo, Al! C’mere!”

He did so, his movements kind of sluggish and uneven as he approached the uncomfortable
bench me and Vags were sitting on. I could hear he was still catching his breath.

“You done wrecking shit?” Vaggie bluntly asked him.

He nodded stiffly. “For now.”

“Good.”

An awkward pause followed.

Oh shit, awkward pauses – my mortal enemy.

“Uhhh… good show, smiles!” I therefore said before I could stop myself, giving Alastor two
nonsensical thumbs-ups. “Ya sure showed those soft cocks who’s the pimping boss!”

“Thank you.” Alastor blinked tiredly. “I suppose.”

Well that was disappointing.

I confidentially looked over to Vaggie, hoping her reaction would be a bit less lukewarm, but
the moth girl just shook her head at me and scooted over, making more room on the bench for
Al to sit on. I wanted to tell her that there was no way in the nine circles of Hell Alastor
would allow anybody (except for Charlie) to sit on the same bank as he did, but I was proven
wrong when the Radio Demon indeed sat down. Huh, I guess he really was out of it.

…he still made sure there was plenty of room in-between him and the two of us, though.

“Alright,” Vaggie said, breathing in. “Now that you’re done with… whatever the fuck that
shitstorm was, care to tell us what the Queen and Charlie are up to, and what has happened?”

“I will,” Alastor simply said, too burned out to put up a fight against her – and that was just
what he did.

VvV
 The more Alastor told me and Angel about his exchange with Queen Lilith, the more restless
I became.

Ever since Alastor and Charlie had become a couple, there had been this… small, worrisome
seed planted inside of my chest. It had grown steadily in the beginning, temporarily stagnated
in its growth after I had learned Alastor had actually managed to deal with it in a pretty
logical way… and it had once again began to continue its development, ever since Charlie
had become more stressed out and frustrated with everything he had kept secret from her.

Stupidly enough, even with my experience and knowledge, I – didn’t make the connection at
first. There was no way that there was an actual link between those two things, I had kept
telling myself. Not with them. Not like that. I had briefly wondered about it, back the in the
hallway, when I had been about to finally tell Alastor about it… but he had distracted me, and
I ended up forgetting to tell him anyway.

Maybe I didn't really 'forget', though. Maybe I had secretly hoped that I didn’t have to tell
him about that. That Charlie would have told him about it already, or, even better, that it was
something that didn’t needed to be explained, since it just wouldn’t happen with him and
Charlie. Because, you know, they seemed to have a very strong, even healthy relationship
going on. Well… minus the lies, of course.

But the second Alastor mentioned Lilith had asked him about the last time he and Charlie had
sex with one another, there no longer was any doubt left in my mind.

Oh fuck. It really was going to end like that, wasn’t it?

Fuck. Fucking fuck.

“Vags?”

Angel Dust’s concerned voice pulled me out of my dazed state of mind, and I raised my head
up, my teeth grinded together.

He frowned at me. “What's got ya this quiet all of a sudden, babe? Ain’t ya got anything to
say to smiles here?”

Instead of answering him, I looked at Alastor. The Radio Demon returned my stare, and I saw
both his eyes increasing a little in size – I saw that he saw it, the thing that I had been vaguely
warning him about from the start, but never bothered to really explain to him.

Charlie’s secret.

“Alastor,” I breathed out, while his awaiting gaze almost pierced a hole through me, “I
think… I think I have to tell you something.”

Chapter End Notes

The Devil and his minions attempt to carry his magical mirror into Heaven, but it slips
from their grasp, falling down to Earth and shattering into a billion tiny pieces. The
splinters are blown all over Earth and people get it into their eyes and hearts, freezing
their hearts and making their eyes only see the bad and ugly in people and things.
Cut to Kai and Gerda, two friends who live next door of one another. They always listen
to the tales Gerda’s grandmother tells them about the Snow Queen, a being that rules
over the ‘Snow Bees’ (snowflakes that look like bees).
One day, Kai gets a splinter of the shattered mirror into his heart and eyes. He instantly
becomes cruel, aggressive and uncaring, and the only things that are still good to him
are the snowflakes he sees through a magnifying glass. The following winter, Kai
mysteriously disappears, and Gerda goes to look for him. After many trials, tribulations
and detours, Gerda discovers that Kai is being held at the Snow Queen’s palace. A Finn
woman Gerda meets on her travels tells her that Gerda can save her friend, because her
love for him is ‘sweet and innocent’, and therefore the greatest power there is. But! If
she fails to save Kai, the boy is lost forever.
Finally, Gerda manages to get to the Snow Queen’s castle and finds Kai on a frozen
lake, almost immobile. Not hesitating for even a split-second, Gerda runs up to her
friend and kisses him, and the boy is saved by the power of her love, her warm tears of
joy melting his frozen heart. Kai starts to cry as well, dislodging the splinter from his
eyes, and he becomes cheerful and healthy again. They reunite with the friends and
helpers Gerda met during her travels and in the end, they return home safe and sound.

Hans Christian Andersen’s longest and most critically acclaimed story is usually divided
into seven separate stories, all describing Gerda’s great adventure as she attempts to save
her childhood friend. The Snow Queen herself was allegedly modeled after Jenny Lind
(1820-1887), a Swedish opera singer Andersen fell in love with – and who rather frostily
rejected him!
 One Thousand And One Arabian Nights
Chapter Summary

Long-time secrets and painful memories are going to be revealed and revisited at last.
It's Alastor's most difficult challenge yet.
(Trigger warning: this chapter will have mentions of/discussions about (past)
mutual non-con.)

Chapter Notes

Some of the most amazing and wonderful people/artists I know made stunning works of
art for my birthday:

The wonderful Chisena, who made this and this!

The amazing OkamiRyuu, who made this!
The lovely Krem, who made this!
And the charming Charlotte, who made this!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Back when we were still in a relationship, Charlie told me her secret herself, shortly after a
verbal argument between the two of us had gotten out of hand.

Even though it hadn’t been that long since it happened, I couldn’t remember for the life of me
what the idiotic fight was even about anymore. All I could recall was me, shouting at Charlie
and blaming her for... something that had happened, and Charlie, snapping back at me way
more venomously than she usually (if ever) did. She was… pretty scary, I had to admit: her
looks had morphed, making her appear distorted – not as much as she did with Alastor, but
still enough for me to swallow my words and take a step back from her.

Charlie had noticed my fear and calmed down almost immediately, before clasping my hands
in-between hers and stammering that she was sorry, that it was all her fault and that we
shouldn’t fight. Things could happen if we did, after all. Bad things. Things she’d immensely
regret later and that would mean the end of her and me.

I wanted to know what she was talking about, of course, and since I got her cornered – she
was the one who had started talking about it after all – Charlie reluctantly told me about what
always happened to her, once she got into a particular bad lovers’ spat. She also said it often
was a direct result of her, no longer being able to suppress her pent-up frustrations, combined
with an ongoing shortage of sex – or just plain dissatisfaction with the sex presented to her.
To put it simply: if Charlie grew more and more displeased with her ongoing relationship, in
multiple ways, chances were that her succubus-side would eventually take over control.

And her succubus-side (a stunning, yet intense, brash and dangerous enchantress that had
enough power within her to destroy everything within a two mile radius around her) would
stay in control, unless her lover at that moment would (pretty literally) offer themselves to
her and let her have her way with them, until she was satisfied – until all of Charlie’s anger,
worries and irritations were (again, pretty literally) screwed out of her.

This had always ended up in Charlie’s partner getting so traumatized by the event that their
memory had to be erased, therefore instantly terminating their relationship with Charlie. It
apparently didn’t matter if the partner was willing to partake in the intercourse or not – she
just was too much for them to handle, even if her lover was a very sexually active person.

To make things even worse, this fucked-up sex ritual had to be done with the person she was
enamored with at that moment. That’s what made her different from her mother and the other
incubi and succubi in Hell: Charlie actually had standards. She couldn’t get her satisfaction
by anybody else, once she was in that… condition. It had to be that one person.

Was that the result of her own morals, not wanting to cheat on her partner, or was it the result
of her father’s ‘pure’, angelic genes, having some sort of influence over her even in that
demonic state of mind? She didn’t know. But it was an extremely cruel experience for her
nonetheless: not only did Charlie lose her lover at the end of it all, but she also wound up as
the only one remembering the relationship in the first place.

And to top it all off: whenever her relationship escalated like this, Charlie was convinced it
was all her fault to start with – because she had been the part-succubus that had lost control
over herself. The one to eventually ruin it all.

It was pretty damn depressing.

Thank god this phenomenon hadn’t happened too often, according to Charlie: while most of
her relationships had ended rather awfully, with her partner cheating on her or losing interest
in her (her scummy partners were all from Hell after all), only a few of them had ended
downright dramatically, with an exhausting night of non-stop sex that neither one of the two
participants had actually really aspired to have.

It had been a while since the last time it had occurred, Charlie told me that day, as I took all
of this information in and tried to place it. She had gotten better at controlling that demonic
side of hers – but she also admitted that this didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen anymore. If a
lover pushed her too far and/or didn’t meet her sexual standards, she would ‘snap’ – end of
story, end of relationship. However, she promised she’d do all she could to prevent herself
from reaching that ultimate breaking point.

I… remember Charlie looking… very relieved after she had told me all of this. Like a burden
had been lifted from her shoulders. She actually had never told one of her former lovers about
this condition of hers before, and she happily informed me that this probably meant that she
really trusted me. That she felt at ease and comfortable with me as her partner – enough to be
open about her darker side with me.
We broke up two months after this confession.

Look, I – I know, okay? I know how bad this sounds, but it’s just… this secret made me look
at Charlie with different eyes. Suddenly, arguing with her was like tossing a ticking time
bomb back and forth, and I grew more distant towards her. I – got more annoyed with her as
well, since I felt I couldn’t decently vent my frustrations to her anymore, without having to
fear what could possibly happen if things went wrong. We both tried to make the best of it
anyway, I think, but we subconsciously knew it wasn’t going to end well – and when Charlie
timidly told me she thought we should break up and stay friends instead, it felt like a
bittersweet kind of freedom.

Then Alastor happened, even more than he already was happening after the fucking shitlord
had shamelessly put one foot inside of Charlie’s hotel, and I couldn’t do anything but
helplessly look on. Look on and watch how that asshole slithered into her library and into her
heart, winning her over with smooth words and old books, and god, all that charm he oozed,
all that attention he gave her, all those little bits of affections he showered Charlie with – I
mean, yeah, I would rather die in a fucking dumpster fire than even think about dating him,
but knowing Charlie, it was no wonder she fell hard for Alastor.

Alastor was asexual, however. He was able to fall in love with someone, sure, but he was still
very much asexual, which could complicate stuff. Furthermore, he was a giant douchebag
with his own rules, secrets and agenda. All signs that there was a very high chance things
wouldn’t turn out all that… great.

I knew this. Charlie knew this as well. Still, she did her best to make it work, like he was
doing, too: they both made sacrifices for one another. And for quite some time, it actually
seemed like it was going to be okay, that they could be perfectly happy together. But in the
end…

In the end, it looked like it would just – end.

Just as horribly as I had feared it would.

VvV

“Now why would you say that?”

Alastor, who had been carefully listening to me without interrupting me even once this entire
time (fucking call the newspapers for that scoop), gave me a critical side-eye. Like I had said
something incredibly stupid.

“What?” I grunted in response – harsher than I had meant to, because his shockingly casual
remark threw me off.

“Why would you say that this is the end for Charlie and me?” he elaborated. “I don’t think
it’s the end for us at all.”
While Angel Dust started to snicker, I felt I was rapidly getting really annoyed with the Radio
Dipshit.

This fucking guy. Was he for real?

My own eye glared back at Alastor just as arrogantly as his own did. No, even more
arrogantly. “What – so you think you can keep up with her? You, the asexual punk with just
one tapped-ass to his name? You think you can just waltz your thin ass in there, let Charlie
slam you onto the bed and fuck you senseless without ending up fucking scarred and
damaged in the brain?”

“Absolutely not,” Alastor said.

“Well then I have to call bullsh—oh.” I blinked and frowned at the same time. “Oh. Uh. You
don’t, huh? Good.”

He shook his head. “While I believe my sexuality has very little to do with the current
situation – and please stop dragging that into this and deciding on that label alone what
sexual intercourse must mean to me, thank you very much – l indeed don’t think I’ll be able
to… endure such a tumultuous night. Most of all because it doesn’t sound like it’s something
Charlie herself wants.”

“‘Cause it isn’t,” Angel suddenly put his two cents in, as he gazed over the badminton court.
“Ain’t that kinda what you said just now, Vags? I don’t know the gist of it and I sure as fuck
don’t know what Charlie’s kinky alter ego is capable of, but I’m pretty damn sure Charlie
doesn’t even wanna have sex with the suckers she’s mad at, once she gets all freaky and shit.
It’s just something she has to do, ‘cause of – things she has no power over. Rules she just…
needs to follow, like it or not. Or else. Something like that.”

Feeling a pang in my chest, I looked at Angel Dust and wanted to say something nice and
uplifting to him. But he didn’t bother to look back. He was too occupied with aloofly
studying his nails and acting bored.

“Well,” Alastor easily said. “That sounds a lot like rape. Mutual rape, even.”

Hell or no hell – rape was a special kind of evil, even in the doomed Underworld we were
stuck in, and although Angel simply shrugged, like the loaded word would just glide off of
him like a splash of muddy water, I couldn’t help but flinch.

“Don’t – don’t call it that.”

“But it is.” Alastor gave me a defying glance. “You’re stating that getting Charlie out of her
involuntary rut means engaging in long-lasting, tiresome and non-consensual sexual contact
with her – something neither she, nor her lover would actively desire to do at that moment.
Isn’t that so?”

I just nodded, squeezing my arm.

“Well. Then it’s no wonder all of those particular former relationships of hers ended as
disastrously as they did. After all, who would want to stay with their partner after said partner
had ruthlessly breached and defiled their trust like that? I most certainly wouldn’t.”

Alastor then folded his fingers together, cracked their joints violently and rose up from the
metallic bench, his mug somehow sporting a big, broad and pestering grin when he saw me
and Angel Dust shudder and make weird faces at him in return.

“Oh my, did that popping sound disturb you? Ha ha! Oh well! Now if you two lovely insects
will excuse me – if Vaggie’s right about Charlie’s secret being the key to a possible solution
to our problem, I think I know what I should do next!”

“Yea: take up a damn book on bugs and look up that rookie mistake ya made there,” Angel
Dust countered, winking smugly at me with seven of his eight spider eyes – but I had other
things on my mind than responding to his painfully lame shot at flirting, and hastily jumped
off the bench, grabbing hold of Alastor’s raggedy coat before he could poof himself away.

“Wait! What are you going to do next? You’re… you’re not going to bail out on us, are you?”
I stared at him. “I-I get that offering yourself to Charlie is out of the question, but… you’re
not going to run away now, right?”

Alastor’s glowering eyes rested upon me for a moment. “Oh? I never said I wouldn’t offer
myself to Charlie.”

“But – what…?”

“For starters though, I’ll go see what our dear Queen Lilith is up to. Also, don’t touch me,
dear. I dry-cleaned this coat just yesterday and your sweaty little hands are making a mess of
it.”

“Fuck you!” I instinctively spat at him.

“Oh my! We’ll see about that!” Alastor laughed heartily, swiftly pulled his coat’s hem out of
my hands, dusted himself off and within the next moment, he disappeared with a resounding
gust of magical smoke.

AaA

Although I was one of the very last persons in Hell to claim he knew Queen Lilith at all, I
was certain nobody would disagree with me if I said that she wasn’t one to leisurely wander
around the hotel, once her little heart-to-heart-talk with her daughter had ended. I also
heavily, heavily suspected that Lucifer’s cunning, yet lazy succubus wife wasn’t one to take
some initiative after said conversation, either – such as rounding up the sinners involved with
Charlie’s distress and fiercely discussing with them what should happen next.

No – that wasn’t Lilith’s style, I believed.

It was more likely that the Queen would simply hover around her darling daughter’s bedroom
door and wait for the right people to come to her, as every well-thinking member of a
powerful royal family would. After all, why waste all that time and energy when you know
beforehand some individuals will come back to a certain place anyway, whether they like it or
not?

Hence why it didn’t come as a surprise to me to see Lilith elegantly lounging around on a
large, black and thorny chaise longue (which, to be honest, hadn’t been there before, so that
did surprise me) when I returned to the corridor I had left her a couple of hours ago. She even
had a book I recognized as one of Charlie’s in her graceful clutches and she was calmly
flipping through it, ignoring me as I came closer to her.

Instead of letting the Queen’s superior behavior get the better of me, I flippantly took in the
morbid environment, looming over the hallway like a threatening thunderstorm. There had
appeared even more fractures and holes on the pauperized wall around Charlie’s bedroom
door, I observed, and the air surrounding it had gotten ice-cold, in spite of the smoldering
spots here and there. Heavens, I could even see my own breath and body heat, leaving my
body in small wisps.

Well. Seemed like Charlie’s mood most definitely hadn’t improved.

My attention was effectively pulled back to Charlie’s mother, when she abruptly snapped the
book she had been half-heartedly scanning shut and tossed it aside, like a piece of garbage.
She then eyed me with a haughty smirk on her hard, inaccessible face, folding one leg over
the other one and making a very unnecessary show out of it.

I – simply watched her in silent confusion and annoyance, blinking and wondering whether
or not I should say something about it. Was this supposed to be seductive? I just wanted to
see Charlie already. Should I perhaps congratulate Lilith with her legs, tell her they were
exceptionally long today? Would that speed all of this up a little?

Luckily, Lilith herself realized soon enough that things weren't going to go anywhere like this
and rolled with her eyes, raising her big, voluptuous figure from the chaise longue.

“Alright,” she started with a sigh, “since Charlie told me you don’t know anything about her
succubus form yet, I think an – ugh – explanation is in order, before I throw you into the
lioness’ den. You deserve to at least know that much.”

I smiled weakly.

Ah.

So Vaggie’s assumption about what I needed to do had been right after all.

“Oh don’t bother, Your Majesty,” I politely told Lilith. “I’ve already been thoroughly
informed about your daughter's condition a while ago. I know – what’s going on in there.
And you don’t need to throw me into anything. I’ll enter the bedroom by my own volition.”

She looked puzzled, yet pleased. “Really now? Very good. That saves me a lot of time.”
“I’m sure it does.”

“I’m rather amazed you’re not trying to run away, truth be told.” Lilith cocked her head to the
side. “If you’re indeed fully aware of what’s awaiting you in this room, you should be
absolutely terrified. On the other hand, however, you’re not the first one of Charlie’s lovers to
falsely believe the power of their so-called ‘love’ for her will help them through this night.
That that will fill up the hole they left behind in my daughter’s heart. And fill up other holes,
too, naturally.”

Oh lord.

Pretending I didn’t hear that last obscene bit of her remark, I let out a short, sharp laugh. “Ha!
The power of my love? Please, Queen Lilith, you insult me. I’m not a naïve child that
believes in fluffy fairy tales and happy endings – I’m an adult man who didn’t only see his
fair share of horror and despair in the world back in the days, but used to enthusiastically
inflict it onto others as well.”

“Used to,” Lilith repeated me. “Not anymore.”

I bit my tongue and kept silent.

The imposing Demon Queen made a few slow steps towards me, towering high above me.
She bent down from the waist when she stood before me, hooking a pointy finger underneath
my chin and flashing me a patronizing grin.

Goodness. For a seductive succubus, she certainly did her best to be anything but.

“You’ve changed, Alastor,” she said. “You used to be such a frightening monster – but these
days, you seem to believe you can be a prince instead. You believe you can save the princess.
Just like that naïve child you so mockingly described, that believes in fluffy fairy tales and
happy endings. How ironic.”

I couldn’t decently put into words just how much I loathed being touched like this, by beings
like her – and oh how tempting it was for me to firmly swat her rude, insistent hand away
from me. I forced myself to bear with it, however, and increased the magnitude of my own
smile.

“With all due respect, Queen Lilith – you know nothing about me.”

“I know enough. Your offhanded, cold comments and empty sneers can’t fool me, you
stubborn, lowly mortal. Not after that embarrassing scene you made earlier. You love my
daughter. You love her dearly – and you are very much planning to save your feeble
relationship with her, no matter what.”

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“Yes.” Lilith’s outstretched smile slowly disappeared. “You’ll only make it harder for her to
get over you, once all of this is over.”
“Perhaps she doesn’t need to get over me.” I managed to gently push Lilith’s itchy nail away
from my face.

Lilith clacked her tongue disdainfully, but let me back off myself from her. “Have it your way
then – again, I, for one, am already more than happy I don’t have to force you to go inside.
That would only make things even more agonizing than they already are.”

She heaved another sigh, rolled back up and arched her back, glancing at Charlie’s bedroom
door. She didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes and I didn’t try to fill up the silence
either – so for a while, it was just me, Lilith and the foreboding image of Charlie’s bedroom
door behind the two of us.

Waiting.

“Once you are inside, the door will automatically lock itself.” Lilith’s monotonous voice
sounded like she was citing the instruction manual of some sort of machinery, all but stating
out loud to me that she indeed had seen and done all of this before. “You and Charlie will be
stuck with one another for the rest of the day and night. I will be nearby, just in case Charlie
needs me, and I will pick you up in the morning. Since Charlie has insisted you’ll leave this
hotel without taking any mental trauma with you, I’ll erase your memories of your time
together afterwards. So rest assured: no matter how brutal things may get from this point on,
you won’t remember a thing of it tomorrow.”

“Well that’s sweet of her.”

“Too sweet if you’d ask me. She’s getting soft.” Lilith paused. “Any questions?”

“I have one,” I said, breezily stepping closer to the door and watching Lilith reach for the
bedroom’s doorknob. “Charlie will regain control of herself once she’s satisfied. Right?”

Lilith nodded, arching an eyebrow. “Yes. By you. Just you.”

“I understand.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“Thank you, Queen Lilith.” I beamed a passive smile at her. “That’s all. You can open the
door now.”

Charlie’s mother looked at me, intrigued, and even though it for a moment seemed like she
was going to say something to me, she in the end didn’t say another word. All she did was
open the ominous-looking door for me and sent me off with a half-condescending, half-
amused gaze, as I inhaled deeply and walked straight into the dear bedroom I had been shut
out of for so long.

But not anymore.

I moved nimbly and quickly. There was not a hint of uncertainty in my step. Not even when
the door closed behind me and audibly locked itself.
 AaA

It was not all that late in the afternoon by the time I finally stood there, in the middle of
Charlie’s bedroom. There should be plenty of light outside still. A comforting sign that the
day wasn’t over yet and that darkness was still slumbering in the shadows of those who were
awake.

However, the room I had willingly walked into was engulfed in a sultry, tangerine, warning
glow, letting me know that twilight had somehow fallen earlier in this particular part of the
hotel. Everything around me was either yellow, or red, or orange – bright, ‘happy’ colors,
colors that usually felt so energetic and pleasant to the unsuspecting viewer observing them,
but now only left behind a faint sense of dread and nausea in the back of one’s mouth.

Not in mine though.

Because there she was.

She sat at the foot of the bed, watching me with unblinking, fiery eyes. Her shoulders were
slouched, but looked sensual nevertheless, and her pale arms reached behind her as she leant
back on the precisely-made mattress. I could see her hands, resting on top of the sheets.
Beautiful blonde, unruly and unkempt hair swirled restlessly around an unmoving, horned
head, as if an unknown force played a strange game with it, and her skin had an alluring, yet
wicked shine of gold to it, as the suddenly-setting sun of Hell hit every breathtaking inch of it
with its warm rays.

Charlie was – completely naked.

Normally, exposing one’s skin like that was a very vulnerable position for every normal,
well-thinking person to be in. But not for Charlie. For her, this demonic version of herself
granted her more power, admiration and recognition than whatever spiky harness she or her
family possessed and she knew it. She knew exactly how intimidating she looked. The dead
stare in her snake-like eyes told me so.

Did she enjoy this, though?

Her shoulders were tense, in spite of the relaxed position she was sitting in.

The long, black nails of her hands gripped the sheets of the bed hard enough to see shreds
forming in its fabric.

And there was no expression on her face. Not a vicious, overbearing smile like the ones her
mother, father and me myself liked to wear so expertly, nor a hint of any other kind of feeling
housing inside of her, either. She was like the kidnapped Angel we kept around the hotel:
hollow on the inside, void from any sort of emotion, and hardened on the outside.

She didn’t care anymore.

No matter how much she knowingly had influenced me in the past year and what amazing
impressions her sweet, easy and patient love had had on me.

To her, I already was the next tragic memory she needed to stash away in the deepest, most
hidden portion of her mind.

It was up to me to show her that she didn’t have to.

AaA

After what felt like an eternity, I heard myself clearing my throat at last. One of us had to
come into action at some moment. Why not let me be the first?

“Good afternoon, Charlie,” I said.

“Hello Alastor,” she answered.

Alastor. She hardly ever called me Alastor. I had always been ‘Al’ to her. Not ‘Alastor’. Not
the ‘Radio Demon’. Just Al. Knowing that, and realizing I that I might never ever hear her
say it again, made my heart shrink.

Charlie carried on, her low, odd tone of voice sounding devious to my ears.

“I see you entered this room out of your own accord. My mother didn’t need to drag you in.”

“Indeed,” I admitted.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Charlie, I—”

“Save your breath, Alastor. You will need it.”

Charlie stood up from the bed, her bare feet connecting to the floor and coming my way.
Slowly, very slowly. I let her approach me and didn’t try to step back or look away from her,
even though I found it hard to see her like this. Like Lilith had said, there was an all-
consuming beauty to this monstrous side of the woman I loved: she was dazzling, exquisite…
enticing, in every sense of the word. To be perfectly honest, I would most likely not mind to
engage in certain erotic activities with Charlie as she was now, since this was also Charlie.
An interesting, forbidden kind of Charlie…

…had she actually wanted to do this.

But she didn’t.

So neither did I.

It was very simple.

It was so very simple, I even told her.

“Simple?” Charlie parroted me, holding still in front of me. “You think it will be simple for
you to deny me, just like that?”

She moved her face close to mine, close enough for me to see the little spots in her
multicolored irises – close enough to feel her breasts, without them even touching me yet.
Her supple, black lips were mesmerizing and impossible to ignore– especially when they
started moving and talking.

“You seem to be under the impression that I will brutally force myself on you and assault
you, while you kick and scream and try to get away from me. Well, sweetie – it doesn’t work
like that.”

Charlie’s cold, yet sensational hands and fingers fluttered over my arms like frozen butterflies
and they tugged teasingly at the sleeves of my coat.

“I’m a succubus now, Alastor. Or I at least partly am. You know what that means? It means
that it doesn’t matter whether or not you like to sleep with me – as an ordinary mortal, you
can’t help but thirst for me anyway. Crude, cordial desires, Alastor. Regardless of your
sexuality, you will give in to them tonight. Partly because you’re just a weak human with an
even weaker body that doesn’t always listen to the mind, no matter how hard it struggles and
protests against it… but mostly because you’re still my lover.”

A vacant smile appeared on her face.

“You want to satisfy me.”

“I do,” I said with a breathless puff of air. “More than anything.”

There was a strange kind of grimace on Charlie’s face as her hands travelled up my arms and
sluggishly wound themselves around my neck. It was the look of someone who had known
beforehand that this would happen and was both pleased as well as gravely disappointed with
this outcome.

Nevertheless, her mouth came closer to my own – slightly moist, slightly opened. I couldn’t
look at anything else but her and had to swallow when her firm, fleshy bosom was finally
smeared against my chest completely.

“Now,” she whispered, “you’ll be pretty busy for the next couple of hours. Since you’ve
chosen to be compliant, I’ll tell you what you can expect during this last special night. I’ll
even try to not utterly destroy you… but you’ll need more than that promise to keep going for
the rest of the night. I need all of you, after all. And I need it constantly. Over and over and
over again, until I decide it has been enough.”
I wanted to ask her the question that would be on the mind of every hapless fool that was in
my position right now, but she answered it before I could even raise my voice.

“Don’t worry – too much, that is. Succubi like me have… unusual bodily fluids. They work
as a very powerful and encouraging aphrodisiac that will keep you aroused and raring to go
for as long as I am. Isn’t that convenient? It doesn’t affect your stamina, however. At a
certain point, your energy level will get too low to keep up with me and your manipulated
body’s ‘needs’. But by then, you’re probably too exhausted, overstimulated and mentally out
of it to even give a damn about it anyway, so that should put you at ease.”

“Not at all.” I looked at her. “Does it put you at ease?”

No reaction, just that same, listless expression. All she had to do to seal the deal was press
our lips together – and then it would all be over. However, she hadn’t kissed me yet. She was
listening.

Always the risk-taker, I carefully put my hands on her bare hips – but I wavered too much
between hugging her icy, attention-seeking figure against me and pushing it as far away from
me as was humanely possible to make a definite decision on what to do next.

“You don’t have to do this, Charlie,” was what I said at last.

Finally, I saw a hint of emotion flaring up in those bright, yet empty eyes of hers and her thin
eyebrows knitted together.

“I don’t ‘have to’?”

Within seconds, she had jerked one of my hands off her curves. She spread her legs a bit
wider and shoved my hand in-between her thighs, her eyes boring hard into my bewildered
ones as I felt the dripping wetness of her entrance soak my hand through and through.

“I’ve been like this,” she hissed, “for almost two weeks, and I can’t get rid of this drive – I
can’t bring myself the bliss – the rest I so desperately need. No matter what I do. It just keeps
getting worse and worse and I absolutely hate it, because unless you help me with this, I’ll
eventually have to start looking for other ways to get rid of my frustrations.”

Vaggie’s voice suddenly emerged in my head, urgently reminding me that Charlie was now
“…a stunning, yet intense, brash and dangerous enchantress that has enough power within
her to destroy everything within a two mile radius around her.”

I understood her better now.

Instinctively, I wrenched my hand out of hers the moment Charlie’s tight, unnaturally strong
grip lessened. I happened to glance at the place my hand was pulled back from and noticed
the transparent glimmer of her arousal, trickling out of her body and over her shaky legs.

Then I looked back at Charlie, who’s face had become bitter and unfeeling again. There were
dark, gray circles underneath her eyes, a telling sign she hadn’t slept in days and this, all of
this, was getting the better of her. Hadn’t her mother dropped by for a visit, one could only
wonder for how much longer she would have been able to keep herself shut away from the
rest of Hell. Maybe I didn’t even want to know.

“So?” Charlie tilted her head, disrupting my thoughts. “Shall we? I’ll make a nice start,
first…”

I watched as she took my hand once more – the one that had been in-between her legs just a
few minutes ago – and I felt my startled heart jolt when I realized she was guiding it to her
watering mouth, planning on licking every sticky bit of her own essence off of my fingers.

And then – what had she planned on doing after that?

“Alright,” I heard myself hastily say, quickly redrawing my hand from hers yet again,
“alright, Charlie, if you need me to get rid of – whatever it is that’s wreaking havoc in your
body, I won’t stop you. You can do with me whatever you need to do.”

She nodded silently. She was listening – again.

“On one condition,” I said.

“What condition?”

“I never told you about my plan.” I breathed out softly. “I never explained how or why I
planned to get you into Heaven.”

Charlie shook her head. “Forget it. I don’t need your explanation anymore. Bob – I mean,
Hakim told me all about it.”

I smiled – not smugly, just friendly. “Do you really believe he told you all that you should
know?”

“Yes.”

“Suit yourself.” I shrugged. “Never mind then. Well, excuse me while I get undressed.”

I took a few steps back and began to undo my own clothing. Calmly, patiently. From the
corners of my eyes, I could see Charlie stare at me. I had no idea what was going on behind
those yellow-red orbs, unfortunately enough, but I simply clenched my teeth and hoped for
the best.

Miserably enough, it had been futile to believe Charlie’s curiosity would save me from
getting fully undressed – because I indeed ended up being completely naked. Like I had said
before, I, like most people, didn’t particular enjoy being exposed like this. Perhaps even less
so than most people. It simply wasn’t a very comfortable situation for me to be in, unless it
was in the direct presence and safe warmth of Charlie’s bed and non-succubus body.
However, that was most certainly not the case right now. Not with a lustful Charlie in front of
me, who looked me up and down without saying a single word.

“Well then,” I managed to say (without any weird stammers, praise the lord). “I certainly
cannot wait to engage in all that morally-ambiguous sex with you. So, what shall we—”