For many of the
residents in Hell, it was an average day of chaos, murder, sex, drugs, and
drama. Poverty-stricken demons smuggled food from dumpsters while others snuck
into darkened stores. More disturbingly, other demons even resorted to
cannibalism on unlucky citizens who had been killed in gang fights, run over,
or stabbed to death by Exterminator harpoons.
The Happy (Hazbin) Hotel
seemed to be running fairly smoothly with the addition of the clean-freak
cyclops demon Niffty and even the indifferent gambling alcoholic Husk. Charlie,
the blond-haired demon princess, stood outside wearing a red bellhop uniform
complete with gold buttons, gold threads hanging around the brim of her small
red hat and a ruby apple necklace around her neck. Her face was white, eyes
yellow, and red blushes were off to the sides of her face. She remembered a
week ago when the hotel first opened, cutting a tied up red piece of ribbon
with a large pair of scissors, the crowd clapping half-heartedly. Currently,
she was holding the door for a line of demons waiting to get in.
“Welcome to the Happy
Hotel!” said the princess cheerfully. Razzle and Dazzle were busy lifting up
luggage and placing them on a rolling cart to go up into the elevator. Though
many of the demons rolled their eyes and snarled at Charlie, she kept up her
positive demeanor.
Inside, a banner hung
over a front desk with several colorful balloons and streamers off to the
sides.
“No more sin, share a
big grin!” Charlie recited her motto. “Vaggie will check you in and get you
situated at the front desk.”
She mentioned to her
moth demon friend, who saw her and blushed with a small smile, blowing her a
quick kiss. Vaggie turned to a light blue dragon in the front.
“I have a reservation
for a room with a balcony,” the dragon said, his wings folded. He showed her
his cell phone in his claw which showed the order he had made online.
Vaggie looked it over
and nodded. “Two nights here, room 666, with a cost of…”
Charlie looked over at
Vaggie. “They don’t have to pay any souls. This place is free for the first one
hundred customers!”
“What?!” Vaggie
exclaimed in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Because I just came up
with it today,” she explained. “If we are to encourage demons to come here to
get better, why not make it free for them?”
“Your Dad won’t be happy
about that.”
“I know. But it’s my
hotel, and I might as well leave a friendly impression.”
“Move it, bitch,”
scoffed a green snake-like demon with a pink dress and dark green hair who
shoved Charlie aside with her hand. Charlie’s eyes glowed red for a second, but
she took a deep breath. Vaggie pointed her harpoon weapon at the snake lady and
glared. Heeding her warning, the snake huffed, flipped back her straggly green
hair and moved on to her room.
Charlie shrugged, as she
continued to hold the door. “It’s a start, right?”
Vaggie sighed and
continued with her next customer, a werewolf. “Room 66 is currently occupied.
63 is available if you’d like to stay on that floor.”
Dazzle flew into the
room, lifted down one of many old fashioned blood-stained key and placed it on
the desk.
Vaggie handed the key to
the brown furry demon. “The bar is over down the hall to your left. Charlie’s
Fun and Games event will start at 7:00pm in the dance room. Ring your room bell
and Niffty will fetch you breakfast in the morning. If you have any questions,
just ask me or Charlie.”
“I have a question,”
said a familiar sounding voice as the werewolf left for his room. The white
spider demon Angel Dust strutted up to the desk, with his usual white and pink
striped outfit on and pink gloves on four of his hands.
“One second,” Vaggie
said. She turned to him. “What, Angel?” Vaggie deadpanned.
“Do you know where the
drug vending machine is here? I want some Angel Dust and I’m getting tired of those
purple popsies to be honest.”
“What’s in a name!”
someone commented from in the line.
Vaggie crossed her arms.
“No drugs are allowed here. It’s problematic enough that alcohol is being
served here. We don’t need any more of your ideas. I’m busy here!”
Angel continued, “What
we also need is a stage with new poles for dancing on. Italian electro music,
and a secret strip club in the basement! Man, that’d be the shit!”
A black dinosaur-like
demon growled at Angel. “Go fuck yourself, slut.”
Angel just grinned
widely. “Only if you watch me, hot stuff.”
“Get out!” Vaggie
bellowed, pointing toward the door.
“Oh well,” Angel
shrugged. “Time to make some moves on Husk. It’s so easy to warm up to him when
he’s drunk…”
Angel happily scurried
away while Vaggie face-palmed. “Someone kill me a second time,” she muttered
out loud.
“Can I do it?” asked the
snake demon, who peered out of her room.
“No!” Charlie and Vaggie
yelled at the same time, startling the snake who ducked back into her room.
Charlie and Vaggie laughed from across the room. Almost losing hold of the
door, Charlie grabbed onto the handle again, smiling back at the visitors.
Later on that evening,
the bar was packed full of demons scattered around in every direction. A group
of dragons were sitting together, enjoying flaming spirits of liquor that Husk
had brought to them. A family of red imps were playing cards over by a booth.
Only a group of doll demons seemed to enjoy the rainbow decorated karaoke
section that Charlie had set up. They sang at the top of their lungs and danced
in a circle.
“See? They’re getting
it!” Charlie smiled, sitting next to Vaggie. Vaggie let out a small smile.
“Well, I’m impressed, Charlie. Maybe your idea will be successful in the long
run.”
Charlie brushed Vaggie’s
long white hair from her light gray face, careful not to touch the pink X over
her friend’s eye. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Angel Dust giggled under
his breath nearby and began to do a slutty dance on a table.
“Anyone have a lampshade
I could use?”
A random one hit him in
the face. “Thanks, dick!” he called putting it over his head.
“Wow, he remembered my
name,” smiled a blushing Dick, an orange-faced demon with an elongated forehead
shaped like…
“Will you cut that out?”
Husk hissed as he glanced at Angel shaking his butt as the demons laughed and
jeered.
“You like that?” he
asked, hearing Husk’s voice. “I figured you would, deep down.”
“Son of a crackhead,”
Husk muttered.
“Heard that, cat in the
hat! Sadly, it’s true, though.”
The two girlfriends relaxed
as the demons chatted (and fought) among themselves. Husk drank more booze
behind the counter in several gulps. Niffty scurried to dust off cobwebs, mop
the floors, and carry any remaining luggage to the room or outside.
Charlie stared at the
nearby stage, the microphone vacant.
“Say…has anyone seen
Alastor?”
“Nope, not me,” replied
Angel, still dancing with the lampshade on his head. “Then again, I can’t see
much of anything.”
“Take that damn thing
off!” said Vaggie. “It’s unprofessional!”
“Sorry, tots, can’t hear
you over the sound of how sexy I am!” he replied.
“Not me,” Vaggie said.
“Nor me,” said Husk.
“Thank Lucifer. That radio punk was getting on my last nerves. Glad I don’t
have to hear any more dad jokes tonight.”
“But he always comes on
Fridays and the weekend,” Charlie says. “And it’s a new moon on Earth, I think.
He always comes up with new tricks to share with us during that time.”
“When’d you get into
that stuff?” Husk asked.
“Human studies,” Charlie
replied. “Oh what it could mean to be a human for the first time…”
“It’s a shithole if you
ask me,” Husk replied. “Lost chances, war, depression, the whole nine yards.”
“Or life can be good,”
said Vaggie, “Until, you get…assaulted by a bunch of masculine pigs.”
An old pig demon oinked
at her in anger and slurped up a mud smoothie.
“Heh, no offence?”
“It’s alright, Vaggie,”
said Charlie. “Perhaps when we go to Heaven, we’ll learn more about all kinds
of people.”
“I can’t hear you,”
Vaggie mentioned.
Charlie snapped her
fingers and the noise in the bar dulled own to a fading hum. The spell would
last for several minutes. For now, it was just Vaggie and Charlie talking in
the crowded room, no one else noticing.
“You’re the daughter of
the devil and a seducing being,” Vaggie pointed out. “You may not ever get
redeemed.”
“But how do we know?”
Charlie asked. “Think about it. My dad got sent down from Heaven for going to
the dark side. There has to be a way for demons to rise up from Hell! There’s
like two sides of a large coin.”
“You’re forgetting Earth
and tons of other places,” Vaggie said. “Even if that would be the case, how
good would we have to be to get sent to Heaven or even back to Earth?”
“Perhaps by showing
more…humanity.” Charlie said, wistfully.
“Ugh, not this again.”
Vaggie leaned closer and spoke in a low voice. “Look. I’m willing to be open
minded about the possibility of Heaven existing. It’s something I learned about
in my life, after all. But to think these demons have some connection to
humans…”
Charlie cut her off,
lowing her hands sideways slightly in a downward motion to make her point.
“They not only used to be souls…they are still souls! Deep down, as long as
they’re somewhat alive, they retain some amount of their human characteristics
from their past lives!”
“Not fuckin’ buying it.”
“Vaggie, it only makes
sense. I’ve seen it for myself when my family showed me the Purge. They briefly
showed their human forms before they were killed. This proves that they aren’t
true monsters. They need help. They need love, just like everyone else. Dad and
Mom don’t want to believe it, but…I have a feeling they also know it to be
true.”
Charlie continued,
changing the topic into something more light-hearted. “Perhaps Heaven has
animal-like bipedal creatures as well, but nicer and fluffier! Maybe with angel
wings. Humans and animals are everywhere, within many angels and demons!”
Vaggie held on firmly to
Charlie’s shoulders, and stared her straight in the eye, raising her voice
slightly more toward a normal tone. “Charlie, listen to me. I, too, have…seen
things. Earth, Heaven, Hell…they’re all different. From what I heard, angels
belong in Heaven and demons belong in Hell. The evil humans come down here, already dead. Living humans belong on Earth. That’s just the way it works.”
Something in Vaggie’s
eyes told Charlie that her friend wasn’t entirely convinced of her own spoken
words.
“Swear on your
afterlife…for your own safety and sanity, you will not tell anyone else about
this.”
Charlie looked around,
eyes wide. “Do you think…some demons will want to take advantage of me and…my
position as heir?”
“Finally out of your
childhood comfort zone,” Vaggie mentioned with a solemn nod. “Please, Charlie. I
will do whatever I can to help you redeem these sinners. But, promise me, you
will be smart and always watch your back. You can’t trust everyone.” Vaggie
stared at her scarred chest and put a hand up to her eye. “I learned that
lesson the hard way.”
Charlie’s soundproof
spell had ended, and the noise of the bar came back in full force.
“Ya girls done?” Angel
asked, white hair frazzled from dancing and wearing the lampshade.
“Yep,” said Charlie.
“Anything you need?”
“Other than a whiff of
coke and a thrill of a fight, I’m good.” He picked up a cherry from a drink and
sucked on it.
“Time to go see Cherri Bomb.
She’s making actual cherry bombs for our next turf attack! Catch you guys
later!” He winked and swaggered out of the room.
“Why did you bring him
here, again?” Vaggie asked with a sigh.
Charlie answered. “He
was clean for two weeks, and now…well, I’m going to give him another chance.
It’s the only thing to do.”
“Whatever you say,”
Vaggie answered. She held on gently to Charlie’s hand and the princess squeezed
back affectionately.
“But seriously,
though…where is Alastor?” Charlie asked, more to herself, looking back at the
stage. “He was a big help to starting the hotel and it was fun dancing with
him.”
“I swear I’ll gut him if
he ever makes a move on you again,” Vaggie seethed. “Let’s forget about that
cocky bastard and enjoy ourselves.”
“Sounds like a good plan
to me,” Charlie smiled. “But I have faith that he’ll change for the better.
You’ll see.”
The red neon Pentagram
symbol in the sky was the only thing that lit up the time that was considered
night time. Though the sky was constantly red, the demons still kept track of
time in their afterlives, despite the fact that such a concept may not exist
outside of Earth. The one thing that died harder than any sinner was old human
habits.
Two small imp-like
demons by the names of Tee and Vee wondered around in the shadows, Tee holding
a small black cell phone. Tee was short, fat and dark purple in color, while
Vee was thin and red. Both had horns, clawed feet and hands as well as small
pointed tails. Both were wearing black suits with blue Wi-Fi logos on them. They
were mini mercenaries and spies hired by none other than Vox, the TV demon. On
this night, they were sent on another one of their missions.
They spoke in New York
accents or perhaps Australian accents. It was hard to tell because they talked
so fast.
“Another night, another
dollar,” Tee said. He reached for a small arrow and threw it at an unsuspecting
ogre. The beast roared as the arrow exploded against his foot. The ogre fell to
the ground and Tee jumped up toward his face. In one swift motion, mid jump, he
got out a spear from his utility belt and stabbed it right though the ogre’s
large yellow right eye. Vee stepped in to finish the job, finally ending the
monster’s agonized yells.
The duo had their
gruesome eye kabab snack on a spear as they walked along.
“Need at least 66 kills
tonight,” said Tee. “That should be doable.”
“But remember what Vox
really wants,” Vee reminded him. “A chance to overthrow his rival overlords.
Just think, we’ll be internet stars after we help Vox conjure Hell!”
Tee elbowed him sharply.
“He will get all the credit, jackass, not us. We’re just doing this ‘cause we
have no choice.”
“Oh, don’t be so glum,
bum,” Vee said. “Though yours is quite big.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me. Anyway,
we’ll still be recognized in some form. Perhaps he’ll be especially pleased
with us and beckon us over to his bedroom…”
Tee shook his head,
clenching his purple fists. “All Vox does is take selfies with Velvet and talk
dirty to Valentino on the phone. He gets the good life, while we’re out here
doing his dirty work.”
“Makes it easier on
him,” Vee said. “He’s busy making plans, after all. You know about the New
World Order? Project Mech Tech? Several secret plans of his involving keeping
everyone glued to their screens. Brainwashing, propaganda, convincing ads. It’s
already just as powerful as it is in the human world. ‘Xept down here, Vox can
bend others to his will.”
“Like…us?”
“Those who are either
sheep or foolhardy enough to stand up to him.”
“But they’re demons, not
sheep.”
“Tee, you retarded,
ass!” He punched his college in the face and the two demons rolled down the
street in a snowball spiraling brawl.
They yelled and grabbed
onto each other’s tails, biting and screeching insults.
“Tee, pee!”
“Bum, scum!”
“Gas ass!”
“Slut, mutt!”
Nearby, a smoking female
hellhound barked in disapproval.
“Butt…what?”
Vee stopped and stared
straight ahead.
“Coward, what’s your
pro…” Tee began, before noticing the direction the orange demon was looking
toward.
“…blem?”
They stood up and saw a
long black alleyway in front of them. The ground was littered with broken
glass, cigarette butts, and the occasional skull here and there. Graffiti was
spray-painted on the brick walls in various colors of red, blue, yellow, and
green. They were mostly expletive words, nude women, and crying demon stick
figures surrounded by flames. Further up above, someone had spray painted a
rainbow with sun rays coming out from it. A foul scent of garbage and rotten
flesh permeated the space.
Vee peered into the
darkness and heard the faint sound of footsteps and humming. A distinct feel
of…electricity? ... hiding among the shadows.
Tee shuddered, holding
up his clawed hands. “No, no, no, no, I ain’t goin’ in there.”
“I sense a powerful
presence,” Vee stated. “If we don’t take a risk, who will? Besides, if we don’t
show up with some special report this time, Vox will have our heads.”
“He…wouldn’t…right?”
Vee grabbed onto Tee’s
plump arm. “Just come on!”
“Okay…whoa, slow down,”
he called as he was dragged along.
They slowed their pace
as they reached the cracked dead end.
The path turned off to the left, ending in another wider dead end
further away. The walls were on either side of both paths with no windows or
doors. Well…save for an old wooden door that was behind a pair of old curtains
made from circus tent flaps.
A silhouette of a demon
stood in front of the door, drawing a pentagram symbol in the air. A little
golden keyhole appeared to the right and a matching old-fashioned key was
pulled out from a pocket. The key went in and the door opened with a slow
creek.
“Let’s go,” Vee
whispered. They followed the figure not too far behind from the door.
They continued walking,
occasionally glancing up at the red sky above them. The eerie silence was soon
replaced with humming from the demon in front of them. It sounded distinctly
male and appeared to be a jolly tune. Vee couldn’t quite name the song the man
was singing, but it made him feel strangely at ease. It reminded him of those
songs he heard at the circus or at musicals he attended with his parents. Not
that it mattered now, since his parents were dead due to the so called
“angels.” Tee on the other hand, was quivering, his legs itching to race right
out of there.
“Come on, man,” Tee
whispered. “Let’s kill this demon and leave.”
Vee let out a silent
gasp and tapped Tee on the shoulder. “Look.”
They both stopped as the
figure’s footsteps ceased further ahead.
For a moment, all was
dark and quiet.
A snap of fingers was
heard and five white candles were lit up at the same time. They were at the end
of the alleyway, this time surrounded by circular concrete walls. The man was
standing in the center of a crimson pentagram surrounded by a red circle that
was drawn on the ground, taking up most of the space. The white candles glowed
with yellow light at the ends of the five points.
“Whoa, is that who I
think it is?” whispered Tee, so low that he could barely be heard. He held up
his phone and started to record.
The figure was revealed
in the candlelight: a slender man wearing a tattered pinstriped red dress coat,
trailing along slightly behind him. Dark shoes with red deer hoof-prints on the
bottom soles. Red and black fur upon his head with large furry deer-like ears
with black tips. Small dark antlers sticking out from between his ears. Thin
neck and slander arms and legs. A vintage microphone staff stood in his right
hand.
“Yes,” Vee said in a
hushed tone. “The Radio Demon.”
Alastor walked over to a
large deer skull stained with blood, antlers still intact. The trophy was
attached to the wall via an old wooden plaque. He walked over and slowly
knocked on the bone forehead seven times. It was a “shave and a haircut”
sounding knock.
The Radio Demon stepped
back as the skull’s slanted eyes glowed red. A scroll dropped out from its
mouth but with a wave of his hand, it vanished. A spiral symbol in the center
of the pentagram lit up: a universal symbol for a portal. The demon hummed some
more.
With Tee still
recording, Vee excitedly reached for his phone. He had to alert Vox. At last,
the duo would be getting their big break…and a hefty sum of souls for their
night’s work.
He began to rapidly
text, his phone set to silent, the brightness of the screen turned as low as
possible:
Vee:
“Lord Vox, it’s V, T of 19:29. Radio Demon’s hideout found. Located at west end
of…”
“A-CHOO!”
Tee sneezed out loud
into his arm, phone in his other hand. The Radio Demon’s ears twitched at the
noise. The humming stopped. The candles went out.
Tee and Vee rammed their
backs against the nearest wall, not daring to move or even breathe. They heard
the shuffling of feet, and the subtle sound of the microphone staff moving
slightly side to side.
For an entire minute,
nobody made a sound. Vee turned to Tee and both of them moved their eyes toward
the other direction. Vee held up three fingers then mimicked tiptoeing
side-ways. Getting the message, Tee followed Vee, shuffling three quiet steps
to the right. After ten seconds, they moved again. Tee still recorded with a
shaky hand in the dark, while Vee was careful not to drop his phone.
Vee pointed toward the
exit and Tee nodded. Vee began to tip-toe from the wall, inch by inch making
his way toward the open wooden door.
A slow creaking sound
made then briefly freeze. For some reason, the door wasn’t moving.
A chilling sensation
crept to the backs of the demon’s necks. Both of them turned back to look
through the darkness.
But the only lights they
saw in the distance were the glowing red radio dials in the Radio Demon’s two
eyes. The creaking sound was, in fact, the demon’s head slowly turning backward
to stare right at the terrified faces of Tee and Vee.
SLAM!
The wooden door whammed
shut, causing Tee and Vee to jump and yelp.
The world turned into a
psychedelic mess of vibrant colors. Reds, blues, and greens morphed together in
the sky and along the walls. Shadows of deer heads dripping blood danced along
a red-lit wall like shadow puppets.
“Open the door!” Vee
cried, punching against the wood, which was now colored a strange yellow.
“There’s no handle!” Tee
replied, kicking at it in vain.
“Ack! I’m blue!” said
Vee, staring at his light blue body in the strange light.
“I think you’re seeing
red!” Tee replied, failing to notice his fat crimson body.
Vee grabbed daggers and
bomb arrows and threw them rapidly in front of him. The Radio Demon dodged them
all and merged into the shadowy ground.
“He’s…gone?” Tee asked,
looking through his phone camera.
Vee held on tight his
phone and glanced back at the texts, finger hovering over the “send” button.
The red dial-eyes
emerged right in front of their faces, rows of sharp yellow teeth appearing
below. Though the sudden loud radio static that filled their ears, Tee and Vee
screamed. A voodoo spirit shaped like a black lizard with white eyes snatched
the phone from Vee’s hand, dropping it by Alastor’s left foot before scurrying
off. He brought down his pointed shoe and crushed the device to pieces, sparks
flying, screen cracked. The remainder of the pieces burst into flames and
vanished.
Before Vee could blink,
two black tentacles sprouted rapidly from holes in the ground and latched
themselves onto the demon’s arms, pinning them back. He struggled to escape,
but they were wrapped too tightly.
Tee was running as fast
as his little legs could carry him, the camera phone shaking with every step.
He put the phone in his pocket, ran up to the wall, jumped, and grabbed onto a
small branch sticking out from a hole in the worn down concrete. Knowing the
branch could break at any moment, he frantically searched around for another
handhold.
A-ha!
Up off slightly to the
right, was a crack large enough for him to dig his claws into. Tee took a deep
breath, preparing himself. If he could push off with his legs, swing toward the
crack, get ready to let go…
The branch snapped off
as he was forcibly brought down with a hard tug coming from near his legs. He
phone fell out of his pocket, landing sideways on the ground. The camera showed
two more black tentacles wrapping around Tee’s stubby legs, dragging him toward
Alastor as he screamed. Even digging into the ground with his claws did no
good.
Another tentacle gently
lifted up the phone and brought it back as well.
Alastor cocked his head
to the side, his mouth in an ever-present smile. Vee was lifted up to Alastor’s
level and held close to the wall.
Vee laughed nervously.
“Oh, hey, Alastor. Heh heh. Great seeing you this f-fine night. I-I wasn’t
gonna do anything, I swear.”
The reply was a dark
chuckle mixed with static.
Vee felt Alastor’s
four-fingered hands grip his head.
“I…I won’t say anything!
Way too young to die again. Please…”
Vee’s head crashed
against the wall with a loud thud. He let out a high pitched scream.
“Owww! No! Tee, get
outta…AUUUGH!”
Vee gagged as his skull
cracked against the concrete. Bile filled the demon’s mouth and dark red
stained the wall. He gasped for air, black spots across his vision. After his
head was slammed against the wall a third time, Vee’s eyes rolled back and his
thin body limped downward, relaxed. Shards of skull and bits of brain spilled to
the ground. Alastor reached down toward the utility belt, and pulled out a
dagger. He severed the demon’s head, clean off. The lifeless head fell to the
ground, rolling until stopping near a restrained Tee.
Tee reeled back as far
as he could, yelling through a tendril that was covering his mouth. Alastor
smiled down at him, red dials moving, antlers expanding from his head. He held
out his palm and flames appeared along with faint symbols hovering around them.
For several minutes, all
Tee knew was a searing hot pain consuming his body, the smell of smoke, and the
reeking smell of burning flesh around them. He inhaled the smoke and heard the
radio static buzzing in his ears. All Tee could do was close his eyes and wait
out the agony. Hoping that the heat and noise would soon…
Fade away…
Slipping into…black…
…constant…
…peace.
With that, the Radio
Demon tossed the phone into the flames, the camera and screen revealing his
demonic face before the device exploded into electric sparks.
The colors returned to
normal and the flames went out. The only sound was the sound of static, slowly
fading back into the vintage microphone. His eyes returned to their normal full
red color and his antlers shrunk until they were small sticks on his head once
again.
He snapped his fingers
and the white candles lit up again. The skull’s eyes glowed red.
Clearing his throat,
Alastor spoke the password in the Creole language:
“Ou pa janm
konplètman abiye
San yon
souri!”
(You’re
never fully dressed without a smile)
The eyes glowed green
and the ground below him vanished. Flames rose from the circle surrounding the
pentagram. The inner circle was now a portal to a “basement” of Hell.
Several shadowy spirits
rushed out of the hole, ecstatic to be free and to roam wild. Though the ground
had disappeared below him, he stood perfectly still where he was.
More tendrils rose from
the ground and wove together to form stairs starting at the top near Alastor’s
feet. He walked merrily down as the portal slowly closed.
He reached the bottom of
the stairs and made his way forward.
“My cozy lair, how much
I’ve missed you.”
The lair was a sort of
mashup between a haunted house and a middle class home from the early 1920’s.
Black walls stood on
either side, blending in so well, it looked like the black ether outside. Red
metal columns lined the sides and supporting the high black ceiling above. The
black floor stopped at an area and wooden floorboards filled the rest of the
ground. It gave the appearance of a floor torn up by an earthquake on the edge.
The first room was the
living room. An elegant fireplace contained red flames that were constantly
burning. A black leather couch faced a red wall that was decorated with various
deer head trophies of many sizes. Some were stuffed versions of real brown
deer. Others were the rotten partially furry heads of deer monsters from Hell.
A fair amount were deer skulls with arching antlers. A resting rifle was
displayed on the top of the fireplace, the same one he used as a human long
ago. A red rug lay below the couch and took up much of the living room. The
walls had borders with antler designs all in a row.
Attached to the living
room was the kitchen. The wood floor met black and white checkered tile, a
green line separating the different kinds. There was a high wooden countertop
with a couple of bar stools facing the living room. Several appliances included
an old fashioned stove, wooden cabinets, a metal sink and a mustard yellow
fridge with an icebox.
Alastor opened the
fridge door and gasped out loud.
“Oh my Satan!”
Among the eggs, food,
and drinks was a severed purple demon head, with one eye missing.
He reached in with his
hand…and pulled out an empty cartoon.
“Curses, I’m out of
milk!” he exclaimed. “How am I supposed to have cereal tomorrow?”
He shut the door and
sighed. “Oh well. I can always have a snack, instead.”
There were fans in every
room (no air conditioning in Hell). To the left of the kitchen, a darkened path
led to the bathroom and two bedrooms. There was also an extra room where
Alastor kept all his radio equipment ready: a small microphone, headphones, a
control panel of buttons, and even a sign that would lit up and read “on the
air” in bold letters.
The bathroom consisted
of a toilet, and a vanity with a mirror and a sink with two separate faucets
for hot and cold water. Taking up much of the space was a black clawed bathtub
in the shape of a cauldron. Alastor turned one of the knobs and a stream of
dark red blood jetted out of the large faucet. He turned another knob and streams
of red liquid sprayed out from the dish-sized shower head overhead. He
tightened the knobs and the blood ceased flowing.
“Good, it still works,” Alastor
said, relieved.
He made his way past the
guest bedroom to his own room.
A twin-size bed had red
satin sheets and a quilt made of soft deer fur neatly folded on the top of the
bed toward the edge. The two pillows were neatly fluffed up and propped against
the wooden headboard.
Closer to the doorway
stood an old fashioned small screen TV with two large antennae jutting out from
the top. It was light tan in color, complete with knobs on the front and to the
sides. When he pushed the power button on the remote, a black and white show
slowly appeared on screen. Unlike many old TV’s and remotes, Alastor had
upgraded his with magic, allowing him to go to multiple channels. He watched
some picture shows for a while on his bed, then turned the TV off.
He peered out a window,
watching the outside world…or lack thereof.
This was a void world, a
dimension where the Loas and shadow spirits resided and where the black
tentacles originated…from mythical monsters in dark pits. Alastor’s lair
hovered in place among the blackness. The demon grinned as he spotted rogue
demons being chased, and sometimes mauled on by voodoo shadow creatures. A
wrecked blaster from Sir Pentious’ blimp floated in the space. Here was were
all the items and victims went when Alastor pulled them into the parallel
place. Sometimes Alastor would send unlucky individuals here for entertainment
and substance for the Loas. In return, they allowed him easy control of his
powers. (Sure he was powerful enough already on his own, but even he knew that
dark magic was dangerous for everyone.)
Alastor stepped down and
opened his closet doors, revealing an array of suits, pants and shoes, mostly
in dark reds and blacks.
But nestled behind the
line of clothing was something extra peculiar.
In a large rosewood
cabinet was a collection of hand-crafted Voodoo dolls.
Large ones made of cloth
and straw with round button eyes and stitched mouths. Miniature ones made of
wood. Several of them had pins with rounded ends stuck in various places.
But the ones on the
widest middle shelf were the most noticeable. They were small dolls made in the
likeness of Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Niffty, Husk, and even an Alastor one.
All the heads seemed to be bigger than the bodies.
How ironic that hands
who had performed countless killings, were also so gentle and precise when it
came to voodoo doll making.
“I’ll start with mine,
as usual,” he said. He picked up the figure representing himself, complete with
tuffs of his own red hair on its head, red clothing made of cloth over the body
and red buttons for the eyes. The arms and legs were black stitched material,
no designs on them. Branded on the back of the doll was a voodoo symbol of
protection, ensuring that no one else could use the doll against him.
“At least I can always
count on myself.”
Grinning, he put the
doll back onto the miniature stage. He examined the Husk one sitting by the
crafted bar.
“You really are a grumpy
cat,” Alastor mentioned. “But, I’ll admit, you were still fun to make.”
The doll had a white
face with black fluffy ends, red eyebrows, black buttons for eyes and a red
bowtie. He had a slight frown on his face. The ears were made of cotton balls
and a black hat sat on his head. Red wings had been sewn onto the back.
“Don’t get into too much
trouble. I want you to be the puurfect person for that Hazbin Hotel.” He
laughed and paced him back at the cardboard bar.
“Cute little darling
Niffty,” he continued, examining the miniature doll with bright magenta hair
and an attached fake yellow eyeball. The white shirt and pink skirt were there
as well (though Alastor had left out the poodle design on the skirt).
“Keep being handy and
we’ll get along dandy,” he said in a sing song voice before putting her back
beside the cardboard chimney.
“Oh Angel Dust,” he said
with a roll of his eyes. He picked up the white doll, which had a small version
of the white and pink outfit that Angel wore. He had a black bowtie, a head a
little bit too football shaped, stitched smiling mouth and blue eye buttons.
“You get on my nerves,
even in the process of making you,” he said. “I can’t even tell what those pink
dots under your eyes are for. And your extra arms…they get all tangled
everywhere. Well, at least you’re entertaining much of the time. You’ll have
your purpose…and not of any sexual kind, good sir.”
He placed the Angel Dust
doll on a web made of black string.
“Hello, naggy Vaggie,”
Alastor commented as he observed the gray doll with long white string hair and
a pink bow on the top. The white tank-top with the leggings were fastened onto
the doll. One button was yellow while the other spot was painted with a pink x.
“Charlie’s best friend,
yet different as night and day. No one likes a pessimist around, even in Hell.
You got used to Hell, you can get used to anything. Even if it’s something
unexpected in the future, perhaps?”
He placed her in her
spot by a small paper lantern.
“Your pride is conssstricting isn’t it, Sir Pentious?”
He glanced up at a Sir
Pentious doll wrapped up in black string upside down.
“You killjoys will fall again in the trench,” Alastor joked as he looked at a
Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench doll stuffed into a hole in the wood.
“Cherri, you’re the bomb,” added Alastor to a doll with strawberry
pink string hair and drawings of cherries on her clothes and fake eye. “Just
try to control any explosive tempers
you may have.”
Finally, up on another
shelf, he came to his favorite group of people: Charlie, Rosie, Mimzy, and of
course, his dear mother. (Made with deer characteristics like his). The Charlie
doll had blond strings for hair, and her face was painted white with the red
blushes. From the black bowtie to the white shirt, leggings and shoes, this
figure was almost like the real thing. Another Alastor figure was placed in the
middle of the three women. Off to the side, a black deer figure representing
his father had pins sticking through his chest, head, and crotch.
“Charlie, my charming
demon belle, how will you fare in running your hotel?”
Charlie was placed in
front of his figure.
“Darling Mimzy, lover of
jazz, who are you behind the glamor and pizazz?”
The white-haired,
pink-eyed Mimzy figure was to his left.
“A rose by any name is
still a rose. We shall see how our collaboration goes.”
The tall Rosie figure
with black eyes, and a pink hat and dress was off to the right.
And right behind the
Alastor figure was the doll that resembled his mother.
Version one resembled
her human form: light brown skin, thick hair, wearing a beautiful dress and
holding a bowl of jambalaya in her hands. The second version was her with
Alastor’s grayish skin, red hair, red eyes, and antlers, wearing a black dress
with skulls and symbols embroidered on it.
“Ma
mere…” (my mom)…
“Tu
me manques beaucoup.” (I miss you very much.)
His mother’s words came
back to him: “Al, my darling, always
remember to smile. Keep your head up, leave any doubts and weakness behind.”
Still wearing his grin,
he wiped away a stray tear of sadness.
“You’re right mom. I can’t
feel insecure now. You sinned in your life…just so you could see me again…still
can’t believe it. I won’t let you done and I won’t let myself down…”
He opened up a final
section of the cabinet, this one revealing the dolls dressed like overlords.
Vox with a pin through his TV head, Valentino with two pins through his straw
chest, Velvet restrained in velvet cloth. Most noticeable of all was a cardboard
throne standing up straight, but with a visible tear down the center. Lucifer
and Lilith wearing white, sitting on the ground covered in necklace chains. A
paper apple staff with the apple part detached and the long black part torn in
half.
Alastor grinned at a
third doll of him positioned on a throne made of antlers and bone.
“…Especially when I have
grand plans set in motion. Hahahahahaha!”
No comments:
Post a Comment