Part 1: “I’ll Steal The Limelight!”
On a TV screen, the 666 News logo appeared in neon outlines.
A skeletal blonde woman was sitting at a desk, wearing a red dress and a pearl
necklace. She had wide eyes, sharp teeth and bright red lipstick on. She was
the news anchor of Hell, Katie Killjoy. Next to her was a man with a face mask
for a face. He had short white hair and wore a business suit. He was Tom
Trench.
“Good afternoon to Hell’s First Circle!” said the woman. “I’m
Katie Killjoy.”
“And I’m Tom Trench,” the man added.
“Another drug dealing brawl is taking place by the 666 Store
along Maim Avenue and Broadslay Street.”
The image showed a tall great white shark wearing a teal suit
and an anchor necklace, snarling at a tall black spider wearing torn jeans and
a t shirt. Both started fighting, the shark chomping at the spider, almost
biting off his neck.
“That’s right,” said Tom. “The loan shark wasn’t very happy
that Black Widow the Third didn’t pay him back for the bag of cocaine. Instead,
he got high off the cocaine, stole the shark’s stash of meth and sold it to an
arachnid mafia at an even higher price!”
The spider screamed as the shark opened his maw, rows of
sharp teeth shining.
“Looks like Black Widow is in the jaws of fate this time,”
Tom added as a loud snap shook the miniature screen.
The screen changed to a red wall displaying plaques with
fancy papers taped onto them. “Employee of the Month” was printed in headline
format at the top and a row of smiling black and white pictures of Katie.
“Now for a special public program, here at 5! To commemorate me
earning “Employee of the Month” for the tenth time in a row this year, me and
Tom will be answering a series of questions in an exclusive live interview!”
She fluffed her short hair.
“You may be wondering
why 666 News is Hell’s number one news station. Well now, you can get a sneak
peek behind the scenes as I explain to you folks how my hard work and stylish
outlook made all of this possible!”
She spread out her arms with loud cracks, bonking Tom Trench
in the head.
Tom Trench rubbed his head as Katie moved her arms back and
put her hands together in front of her.
“If you would like to apply to be part of the set and news
crew, please call the number on your screen, 1-800-666–NEWS or go online at
666news applications.com.”
“Gays need not apply,” Katie added, with jazz hands.
Fast rapid music followed as the logo appeared again, and the
words “Exclusive Interview with Katie Killjoy (and limp dick Tom Trench)!”
appeared in stylish gold letters.
After the I.M.P. jingle played, the screen cut back to the
two news anchors sitting at their desks.
A rapid knocking sounded from Tom’s left.
“Oh, that must be our two never-before seen interviewers,”
Tom said. “Brain Brimstone and Cecilia May! Come on in!” He stood up.
The sound of footsteps, muffled grunts, and dragging steadily
grew. Two shadow figures were thrown off-screen with thuds on the floor. Tom
Trench took one look at the third figure and took several steps back. He
breathed out loud in surprise.
Katie scratched her nails on the desk and looked over. “What
now, Tom?!”
“Why hello there, news people!” said a loud radio voice.
“Fancy seeing you here!”
Both of them were staring into the pale, red-eyed face of
Alastor. He wore his usual long blood red dress coat, dark pants and black
shoes. Dark gloves covered his four clawed hands. His hair was red and black
and two small antlers were sticking up from his head between two furry tufts
shaped like deer ears. A monocle rested under his right eye, connected by a
thin chain.
“What a splendid surprise!” Katie chirped, looking at the
camera. “The one and only Radio Demon has decided to join us for the interview.
I hope he has some good questions up his sleeve, ‘cause I’d be more than happy
to answer them.” She smirked and swayed her hips suggestively.
Alastor laughed forcefully. “Nonono, that’s not what I came
here for. You see…” he mentioned to the two demons in the background, slowly
getting up. “I came across those two fellows who were chatting about
interviewing someone important. Seeing how easily bored I can get, I decided to
follow them to your station to see what all the commotion was about. It was
pretty funny seeing the terrified looks on their faces when they turned around
and saw me. They were going to come in, but I brought them here for you. Wasn’t
that so considerate of me?”
Katie and Tom Trench looked at each other, worry on both of
their faces. Katie cleared her throat and cracked her neck, standing up. “Well,
then, shall we get started? Take a seat and let’s begin with your first
question.”
“Sure,” said Alastor, not moving, a smile on his face.
“Here’s one, may I take things over from here? I’ve been bored as usual and I
believe it’s my turn to provide some fun for the sinners.”
Tom Trench gulped, whole Katie narrowed her eyes.
“Excuse me, sir, but this is my program. I’ve been named the
best employee and news anchor for ten months now! This is a perfect way to
increase the good ratings! I’m the star who answers the questions, not you.”
She blew him a kiss. Tom’s eyes grew wide as he realized
Katie’s big mistake. He shook his head, but Katie ignored him.
“My dear,” said Alastor, leaning closer, eyes glowing. “That
wasn’t a request. This is my show now. Broadcasting on the radio is fine and
dandy, but I enjoy looking for new entertainment platforms.” His microphone
staff lit up.
Katie gave him a side hug. “My time is money, good sir, so I
suggest we get started.”
A low growl rumbled from Alastor’s throat. He forcefully
shoved her away. “Touch me again, and I’ll break your already broken body.”
“Why I never!” she responded. Katie transformed into her
insect form, eyes glowing, pinchers out. “Get out of my studio!”
Alastor’s eyes turned into red radio dials. He spoke in a low
voice. “How about, no. If any dumb Dora
needs to get out, it’s you.”
Before Katie could react, she found herself ensnared by a
couple black tentacles snaking around her feet, one wrapped around her right
wrist.
“Let go of me!”
Tom Trench was yelling and hanging upside down by more
tentacles grabbing onto his legs. Katie tripped in her red high heels and fell
to the ground. A flaming portal formed from the floor nearby. Katie dragged her
nails into the floor, scratching sounds piercing the air as she was pulled in
further against her will.
“Why won’t anyone help me?!” Tom yelled as he was swung in
the air as the crew fled the scene.
Katie swore loudly and screamed again as she fell through the
portal.
Monstrous roars and yells came from below. After a few minutes,
a tentacle flung Katie back up and onto the floor. Her body was shaking and her
dress was torn. There were cuts all over
face and arms. Her eyes were briefly red, her pale face full of fear.
She stood on shaky legs and mumbled to herself.
“Those visions…my studio gone…crushed
again…they rejected me…”
Alastor’s shadow let out a bone-chilling laugh and spoke in
reverse: “.der ni dalc nomed eht eraweB”
Katie had gotten a glimpse of her worst subconscious fears
and her past. Her parents comparing their worthless daughter to beauty patents
in magazines…being fined for animal abuse…the press badmouthing her after being
on air for the first time…a wealthy boyfriend rejecting her for a brunette
model…smoking and gasping for breath…cameras and machinery falling and crushing
her to death…
But her worst fear at the moment was a red and black haired
man, glaring at her with glowing red eyes. She screamed and scurried out of the
room. Tom Trench was thrown by a tentacle out a window, glass shattering. The
portal in the floor closed.
“Apologizes folks, but now that those two are gone, it’s time
to begin my show with those two over there.”
Alastor’s shadow appeared and floated around him. With a snap
of his fingers, the 666 News logo on the wall was replaced with large red
letters reading “The Alastor Show!” The two demon interviewers hovered over in
the air, surrounded by red auras. They were dropped into leather chairs. The
desk vanished and Alastor sat in a tall leather chair of his own, with antlers
extending from the top.
He beamed at the two in front of him. He stood up and walked
over to Brian Brimstone. “The name’s Alastor, it’s a pleasure meeting you. And
you are?”
“Brian,” he said in a quiet voice.
“Great to have you here. And you, what’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Cecilia.”
“Pleasure to meet you as well!”
He sat back down. “So you’re here to interview me, yes? Well
feel free to ask whatever you’d like. No pressure or anything. But I do warn
you, the price for asking any personal questions, is your souls. Are we good?”
Both nodded.
“Excellent! To make this even more entertaining, I’ve invited
some fine imps from Immediate Murder Professionals to join us.”
Blitzo, Moxxie, and Millie opened up a portal to Earth, a
circle of flames between space and time.
“I paid them several souls to create an opening for the
living world. Thanks to them, I can now broadcast this interview to those on
Earth. While I provide some dad jokes and murder broadcasts for a while, these
two here will travel to Earth and talk to the human mortals. If they have any
questions they’d like to ask me, then my two associates will report back to me
in the next hour. Have fun, you two!”
Brian and Cecilia were tossed into the portal off screen.
“By the way, did you hear about the day two radios got
married? The wedding was great but the reception was awesome!”
He laughed out loud as a shadow spirit did a “ba dum tis”
sound effect on a drum set. “Hahaha! Oh that one never gets old! For my radio
listeners out there, just a reminder that my show starts Wednesdays, Thursdays
and Fridays at 6:06 AM. Get it? A M.” He laughed again.
“Tune in after the break. The Alastor Show is proudly
sponsored by: “Dan’s Cannibalicious Cooking Segment. It’s Damn Delicious! By
Murder King’s large Fat Nugget Bacon Burgers. The Perfect Snack for a Heart
Attack. And by Princess Charlie’s Hazbin Hotel. The place to stay to wash your
sins away!”
Part 2: “I’ll Make Music!”
“Welcome back everyone!” Alastor said happily. The two
interviewer demons scurried out of the portal and took their places behind the
camera in their chairs. The interviewers, obscured by darkness flinched as
Alastor’s shadow hovered between the chairs, growling and showing sharp teeth.
Antlers extended from the shadow’s head. Alastor continued. “As you can see, my
two interviewers just came back from their journey to talk to the humans. They
now have their questions ready. So, without further ado…let the show begin.”
Brian cleared his throat. So…uh…we picked up several
questions for the humans and…those in an exclusive group seem to know a lot
about what goes on in this version of Hell. They call themselves “Hazbin Hotel
fans or supporters.”
Alastor shook his head and chuckled. “How can any mortal
possibly know about the Hazbin Hotel?” He spoke in a low whisper. “It’s nothing
more than a pit and a joke if you ask me.” He spoke up, “But hey, I was happy
to help out and rejuvenate the place. I just summoned Husk and Niffty, my
associates to help assist Charlie and her friends. I believe they are named
Vaggie and Angel Dust. I was there to seek out entertainment, to find a cure
for my nagging boredom.”
Alastor’s shadow laughed. “.enorht
s’reficuL ekat ot nalp ew dnA”
Understanding his shadow, Alastor whirled around and spat,
“Shut it!” The shadow apologized in French and retreated.
“Where were we? Oh of course. The Hazbin Hotel. You say
people know about it? Probably from I.M.P. I imagine.”
“No, sir. They say you’re part of a show they watch.”
Alastor chuckled. “Aren’t we all the stars of our own shows?
For me, there’s an audience out there just waiting to see what I’m capable of.
Like I say, the world is a stage!”
Cecilia turned to Brain in the darkness, “Don’t try and
explain it to him. We’re breaking the 4th wall enough as it is.”
Alastor’s microphone staff lit up. “Hello there, fellow
humans! I’m your host, Alastor, the only and only Radio Demon! I can’t really
see you as I’m in the fiery depth of Hell, but I hope you’re doing swell
wherever you live.”
“And the 4th wall has been broken,” Brain muttered.
“Now that both demons and humans can witness this interview,
let’s get started. Now, state your questions.”
Cecelia looked at the list.
“Question 1: What instruments do you
like to play?”
“Glad you asked,” said Alastor. “I enjoy playing the piano,
trumpet, and saxophone. Electro Swing and Jazz are my favorite types of music.”
Shadow spirits rose up from the ground and began to play a jazzy tune. He moved
his body to the beat and hummed along. “Music has always been central in my
life. Growing up in New Orleans back in the day, jazz was everywhere there.
Singing and dancing was my way of bonding with people, plus it was a great
hobby to do in my spare time. Well, besides murdering people and eating them.”
Alastor’s eyes lit up. “Oh ho ho ho ho! I have a special surprise
for you folks. With the help of Blitzo and his crew, I was able to track down a
curious British fellow who had invented a very unique musical instrument. What
was his name again?”
Blitzo looked up from a computer. “LOOK MUM, NO COMPUTER.”
“No need to shout it out, good sir. Are you sure that’s his
name?”
“It’s written in all caps. That’s what he calls himself.”
“Whatever. Mortals sure are strange. Anyway…”
He snapped his fingers and a large object was covered with a
black tarp. I present to you…one of my favorite instruments to play, when no
one’s looking…”
The shadow spirits did a drum roll…
The tarp was lifted away into the air…
“The Furby Organ!”
It was a grotesque combination of an old fashioned organ and
a children’s plaything. The organ had a wooden stool to sit down on and a row
of white and black piano keys. The frame was polished oak.
Six long rows of colorful furry robotic toys stood close
together like toys displayed in a shop. The furbies had long soft ears, yellow
bird becks for noses and little mouths that could open and close. Their large
plastic eyes opened and closed at random…their eyes looking disturbingly like
human eyes. They all had soft furry feet to hold them upright. Their fur was a
variety of colors: gray white, blue and black, brown, orange and red, and
yellow. There were 44 furbies in total, all hooked up by a complex array of
colorful wires criss-crossing in the back of the machine.
Below the furbies was a series of round metal knobs with
notes as letters written in silver sharpie below them. Slightly larger knobs
were off to the right. One of the switches was labeled “wake” another, “vowel” and
another, “loop.” “LOOK MUM, NO COMPUTER” was written on the front.
A tall white young man stuck out his head from the portal
with a shocked and angry expression. His hair was dark and slightly messy.
“Hey, you there! I saw you and some gazelles steal my
instrument the other day. I’d like it back!”
Blitzo fumed. “It’s imps to you, ya piece of…”
“Ha! No,” Alastor cut in, pushing Blitzo back. “I believe
this marvelous organ belongs to me now. You’re smart. Go make another one.”
The YouTuber stood, flabbergasted. “You don’t know how much I
spent on those furbies!” he exclaimed. “They’re rare to find. I wanted to find
a use for them and I’m still not done with it.”
“I must say, I’m quite impressed with your work,” Alastor
mentioned, running his hand on the polished wood. “It looks done to me. Go make
me some more, and I might consider sparing you.”
“What?! What the heck even are you?” the man asked.
“Alastor, Radio Demon, pleased to meet you! Now sit back and
enjoy the show, No Computer Man!”
“That’s not my name…” he began, before he was held in place
with a yelp by several shadow spirits.
Alastor sat down at the stool as the camera was focused on
him.
“Please sir,” said the YouTuber. “Just let me have my machine
and I’ll be on my way.”
“Sure, okay, go ahead,” said Alastor. He waved his hand and
the silver letters changed to red on the black front structure. “LOOK MUM NO
COMPUTER” changed to “ALASTOR RADIO DEMON.” Red voodoo symbols decorated the
front and sides of the instrument. “But first, I’d like you to hear me play my
favorite song, “You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile! Congratulations,
human…you’ve got a front-row seat!”
He moved his eyes over toward a switch to the far right of
the machine. Below the switch read “Collective Awakening,” in silver letters.
He hovered a long finger over the switch, his grin growing
wider.
The man’s eyes widened in fear. “No, no, don’t…” He couldn’t
explain where his internal fear was coming from.
But he knew the answer soon enough once Alastor flicked the
switch upwards.
All at once, the furbies came to life in a high-pitched
discordant. The ears, eyes and mouths of the toys moved on their own accord.
The furbies’ voices overlapped each other, almost sounding like screams. A few
furbies were still and asleep, unaware of their Matrix-like fate of being part
of a musical machine.
Alastor sat down on the stool and laughed. He played around
with the knobs and notes. The furbies’ eyes glowed red. He turned the loop
button and the furbies screeched and stopped in mid sound. He began to play the
keys expertly with his fingers as he sang out loud in his radio voice:
“Hey Hobo Sinner, hey Dapper Winner
You’ve both got your style
But brother you’re never fully
dressed without a smile!”
“Your clothes may be, Beau Brummelly
They stand out a mile
But brother, you’re never fully
dressed without a smile!”
He snapped his fingers and Rosie, Mimzy and Charlie were
lifted up from portals via tentacles. Charlie looked around, her pale face
framed by her blonde hair, red circles on her cheeks.
“Alastor…what’s going on?!”
“My lovely companions!” he introduced.
Mimzy giggled and danced along. Rosie, having agreed to the
plan prior, also hummed along.
The three of them did the backup sounds: “Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo
doo…”
“Who cares what they’re wearing
On Maim Street or Inferno Row
It’s what you wear from ear to ear!”
He held up two severed ears…
“…and not from head to toe…”
A severed head and toes appeared in his other hand…
“That ma- ah- ah- ters…”
He took several bites of the human flesh and swallowed,
playing a solo with the shrilling and singing of furbies. LOOK MUM, NO COMPUTER
shut his eyes tight, trying in vain to get the shadows off him. Alastor tossed
the parts aside for the imps to retrieve, along with a bag of souls and coins
at the imps’ feet. He cleared his throat as he played some more.
“So room and board, so Overlord
So long for a while
Remember you’re never fully dressed
without a smile!
It doesn’t matter how you dress…
Though you make look the best…
You’re never fully dressed without a
smile!”
Charlie took one look at the furby organ and screamed. “What
in Satan’s name is that thing?!”
“My fabulous furby organ!” Alastor exclaimed.
“It’s my invention!” the YouTuber yelled, eyes open.
“Who’s that?” Charlie asked.
Alastor ignored her and finished the song. The furbies talked
and moved their mouths in a frenzy before falling still.
Audience clapping sounded from the microphone staff as
Alastor stood and bowed.
“Thank, you, thank you! I hope you all enjoyed my little
performance. Now to send everyone home.”
He snapped his fingers and the shadows gently carried LOOK
MUM NO COMPUTER back through the portal and into the human world. The portal
closed behind him, leaving the YouTuber with nothing but a pamphlet advertising
the Hazbin Hotel. Under the pamphlet was a hard piece of paper with detailed
instructions on how to build another organ made of scales and sea creatures…complete
with Baxter’s signature.
Charlie protested but she was soon sent back to the Hazbin
Hotel through another portal. Mimzy waved goodbye and Rosie led the way out the
door.
After playing several more songs, Alastor snapped his
fingers. The organ vanished back to his interdimensional lair and the imps were
sent on their way.
Part 3: “I’ll Annihilate Your Assumptions!”
“Alright, next question,” said Brian. “Question 2: Why were you made asexual?”
“Pardon me?” He titled his head in confusion.
“Asexual. Aromantic. Not interested in love?”
“I don’t know what you mean by that. Where did those peculiar
terms come from?”
“Well, don’t you know about heterosexuality and homosexuality?
Being straight or gay? Everyone uses them.”
Alastor shook his head. “I’ll never understand the random out-of-the-blue
labels that you modern folk use. Asexuality? That didn’t exist in my time.”
Brain stared, confused from his seat. “Ok, boomer.”
Alastor snapped his fingers and an explosion tore open a hole
in the wall right behind Brain. He yelped in fright.
“Was that a good enough boom for you? Angel Dust told me that
“ok boomer” was somehow an insult. I could make you explode, oh that would be
fun!”
“Nononono! I didn’t mean anything!” Brian called, in a
stuttering voice.
“Alright, let’s fix that wall,” Alastor mentioned.
He snapped his fingers and the formerly broken white wall
became a repaired red wall with golden antler designs on it. A black and white
picture of a dark skinned woman hung nearby.
The camera focused on Alastor walking up to the wall where
the picture was and briefly embracing it.
“Hey, I gotta get my hugs sometime when I’m alone.” He stood
up and walked back to his seat. The picture disappeared.
“Alright, about this “asexual” business. Let me explain the
best way I can,” said Alastor. “When I was alive, nearly everyone assumed that
men liked women and vice versa. Those who did behaviors outside the norm were
arrested or imprisoned. At the earliest, that “heterosexuality” term…meant
someone with an abnormal passion for the opposite sex. There were no official terms…you
were either accepted or condemned by others. As for me…I wasn’t interested in
men or women. Dealing with messy emotions and meeting other’s expectations wasn’t
worth my time. Sure, I had my fair share of friends male and female…and yes, I
did enjoy flirting and touching the ladies. Kind of amusing and pathetic how
they could fall for me just like that. Humanity…so gullible! So easy to dance
with the women, give them compliments, lure
them into my house, and then watch as they screamed for their lives in my
basement. I’ve found dames to be the much more tender gender…”
He licked his lips.
Brian and Cecilia shivered in their seats, legs ready to
spring and flee.
Alastor shook his head, and spoke back in his normal voice. “Oh
sorry about that. I got lost in my thoughts. So, what was the question again?”
Brian repeated it.
“No one is “made” into anything. I was born who I am and then
was raised with certain beliefs. Were you born to love the opposite sex? Was I
somehow destined to become a demon? No one really knows the answers.”
A pause.
A narrowing of red eyes.
“I can sense that these questions are becoming more personal…”
“Okay, okay,” said Cecelia in a trembling voice. “We won’t
ask anything else…”
“On the contrary, it’s quite enjoyable to let my thoughts
out,” he said. He snapped his fingers. The doors slammed shut and the locks
clicked into place.
“Stay tuned for more, next time on The Alastor Show. For now,
you can only imagine what fate I have in store for my guests.”
His microphone blinked off and the TV screens burst into static.
Brain and Cecelia found their arms and legs pinned down by
red magic.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you guys escape. Wouldn’t want
anyone to taint my reputation by revealing personal details. I mean, heheheh,
you still have lots of questions to ask me, and I wouldn’t want to be
dismissive of your hard work. But how to dispose of you when the interviews end…”
The shadow hovered by Alastor and whispered in his ear.
“.senob rieht htiw yalp nac sllod
oodoov eht dna meht no tsaef em teL”
“Oh, that’s a great
idea, Rotsala! Then again, I always have great ideas.” The shadow grinned and
sat in a shadow chair beside Alastor.
“In regards to your strange question…why would I love anybody
down in Hell?” He burst into laughter. “They’re all a bunch of lost causes
anyway! I do make deals here and there but I just use people for my own entertainment.
I’m not interested in any sexual activity. Those like that pervert Angel Dust…they
can just do their own thing far away from me.”
“But,” he continued, “I will say this. I don’t want to see dear Charlie and her
friends get hurt. Especially by my rivals Vox and Valentino and other sinners
and demons. I should be the one who decides what to do with them. Those who harm me or my associates would be in
for a rude awakening.”
“Um,” said Cecelia. “You’re not gonna…you know…”
Oh, don’t worry, they’re
still safe and sound at the hotel. I’m just taking a break. Dear, if I wanted
to hurt anyone here…”
He paused…
“I would just get bored again later,” he said in a normal
voice.
Cecelia and Brian looked at each other.
“What?” Alastor asked with a smirk. “You thought I was going
to say something else?”
“The fans do love it when you’re creepy…” Brian mumbled.
“What was that?”
“N-nothing.”
Alastor held out his hands and a plate of shrimp, sausage,
rice, and vegetables appeared on a small table that emerged from a small
portal.
“Jamabalya?” he offered with a smile. “It’s my mother’s
special recipe.”
The two demons dug in off screen while Alastor enjoyed the
dish as well.
“Yes,” said Alastor after they had finished eating. “I’m
affectionate with my friends, but I’m not into sex and romance. I assume that
not many humans or you demons understand that.”
“Uh…yes we do,” said Cecelia, her voice trembling. “Yeah, I
have a friend who’s not into romance…”
Alastor held up a hand. “Of course you wouldn’t. None of you
would. Only I can understand my feelings and aversion to intimacy. My Creole
heritage, my love of Hoodoo, Voodoo, the radio, and theater…the thrill and
desperation when I hunted my own kind during the Depression…No. I’ll remain an
elusive enigma to all of you.”
Part 4: “I’ll Tell You About The One
I Truly Love”
“Is there…anyone you do love?” Cecelia asked.
“Like I said before,” Alastor mentioned, “I don’t care much
for anyone in Hell. However…” His red eyes took on a faraway look, the shades
of red descending into darker shades of red, until ending at black holes.
“I loved my dear mama with all my heart. Back when we lived
together in New Orleans in a small house by the bayou not too far from town.
Others called her by her name, Loretta Duvalier. Beautiful lady, dark skin,
black curly short hair, loved to wear red cotton dresses and dapper hats.”
“Wow,” Brain breathed. “I didn’t know she had a name.”
Alastor scoffed. “I didn’t know you had an identity, but here
we are. As a matter of fact, no one else knows what you and your friend look
like. Even the camera doesn’t want to know.”
“Why you disoriented, deer-brained…”
Brain strained to lift up his arms in the darkness, reaching
for the camera in vain.
“Goodness, don’t wear yourself out just yet,” Alastor
chuckled. “I still have more to tell you!”
“You have no soul, redhead!” he sputtered out.
“That’s because I need live souls to warm me up,” Alastor
retorted. “Be patient; you’ll be next soon enough.”
Brain stilled in defeat.
“That’s better. Moving on.”
He cleared his throat. “In case any of you are wondering what
I looked like as a radio host and serial killer as a human…”
Morphing from shadow, was a black and white picture that
appeared in Alastor’s hand. It briefly revealed colors. A young man grinned
widely, wearing a white buttoned shirt, a sandy red shirt over the white one, dark
gray pants and a black bow tie underneath his pointed chin. His hair was short
and brown, with a faint reddish tint that sometimes shined in the light. Light
brown skin, brown analytical eyes, and a pair of round glasses. He held a dark
gray hand-held microphone in his right hand.
“I…thought you were white…” Cecelia added. “All the fan art
and the comics say you are.”
“What exactly is ‘fan art?’” he asked. “You seriously want to
believe what is portrayed in the human world? And just after an hour? You’re
even more stupid than I thought.”
“I am part French, part Creole,” he continued. “My race and
my personality were several reasons why I was bullied throughout my school
years…and my working life. You two should be grateful to be getting these facts
first hand. I almost never tell these to anyone.”
In a blink of an eye, Alastor walked over and twisted Brain’s
arm hard.
A wailing wheezing scream followed a millisecond after the
sickening crack. Moments later, he did the same thing with one of his legs. The
demon yowled again.
“Heh, it seems that my stories cost you an arm and a leg to
listen to,” he smirked. The smiling shadow spirit did the “ba dum tis” sound
effect on the drums again.
“Anyway, back to my dear mother, Loretta. She once made a
recipe for Jambalaya that nearly killed her. Mind you, this was before she died
from an illness and I had her for dinner in despair. You see, several of the
voodoo deities liked to consume rum, blood, and gunpowder in the legends. She
had a bit too much Southern Comfort drink and she put gunpowder and wasabi
sauce in the jambalaya. The stove was on and some of the powder exploded in her
face. I warned her not to eat it, but she decided, with her face all charred,
that she would taste test it. The wasabi sauce almost gave her a heart attack
and I had to take care of her for a while. But when I tried the dish…it was so
spicy and so splendid!”
He burst out into laughter.
“Oh,” said Brain, through pained gasps. “That’s what you
meant when you said that her recipe nearly killed her and that the kick was
right outta Hell.”
The shadow spirit did the drum effect again.
“That’s seriously getting annoying,” Cecelia complained.
“And so are you,” he retorted before continuing.
“My mom told me that her mother was a well-respected Voodoo
Priestess and Hoodoo oral traditionalist. She followed in her footsteps, though
like many women during the time, she worked in second-class jobs, not very
well-paid. I remember her warning me not to delve too deep into the dark Loas
and evil magic. She also said, “Never resort to cannibalism unless as a last
resort.” Well, she only ate one human who had already died of starvation, and
that’s when we had no food for several days. When it came to the Great
Depression…it was both survival and the thrill that got me into cannibalism. Oh
the irony!”
“W-where is she now?” Brain asked.
“In Heaven, of course. She went there because she was pretty
much the only light in my human life. She comforted me after my father and
uncle…took advantage of me. My father and uncle were sent to Hell for obvious
reasons.”
His smile appeared strained.
“You know…it’s okay to show emotion other than happiness all
the time,” Cecilia said.
“Frowning makes one weak,” Alastor replied. “Both my parents
told me that. I’ll never forget mother’s saying she often used, “Always remember
to smile, Alastor. You gotta appear confident and fully dressed to others.” I
can see why she told me that, with the racism and the lavish-centered culture
back then…”
“Will you ever get to see her?” she asked.
“Not with being stuck down here,” he replied. “Charlie’s
whole plan of “redemption” is a big joke. But, since she’s nice enough, I still
want to help her out…for entertainment, of course.”
“I bet you secretly want her plan to work so you can go back
to Heaven to reunite with her!” Cecelia claimed. “He wants to dance with
Charlie and love her forever and ever!”
“Or,” Brain countered. “He wants to lure her into a sense of
false security so he can take over Hell and be king!” He spoke in a high voice,
“Oh Charlie, if only there was someone who actually loved your hotel and ideas!”
Radio static filled the room. “Assumptions, assumptions,” Alastor growled. “I tell you facts about
my life and here you go making up stories to fit your puny ideals! You’re even
lower than the mortal humans. I’m usually very kind and patient…but I’m
literally this close to ripping your eyes out and leaving your corpses for the
voodoo imps to feed on.”
“.ti od ,erofeb dias I tahw s’thaT”
“That’s what I said before, do it.”
“Not now,” Alastor hissed to his shadow.
He turned back to them. “Only questions come from you two.
Not another word, unless you want me to use your tongues for decoration.” His
voice lowered. “You hear me loud and
clear?”
Both interviewer demons nodded.
“Good. Now, let’s move forward.”
Part 5: “I’ll Describe Rosie and
Mimzy, My Fellow Female Friends!”
Part 4: “About Charlastor…”
Part 5: “About RadioDust…”
Part 6: “Other shippings?”
Part 7: “Gender and race of my
victims doesn’t matter”
