Before long after Alastor had his rest, it wasn’t just Pentagram City that fell into his hands.
There were several other
great cities in Hell, Thelema City and Levia City. In the former one, an indigo
upside down cross glowed against the red sky, though the air was very polluted
from nearby factories. Many of the residents of Thelema city had wings:
dragons, hydras, bat demons, mosquito demons, among others. Still, there were
plenty of animal-like demons, imps, and other sinners who lived there, too. The
city was ruled by King Beezelbub, Lord of the Flies and a lower ruler. He had a
black face, and many eyes that could see in every direction. Giant fly wings
extended from his back, even as he wore a suit, top-hat and bow-tie. Once he
heard of Lucifer’s defeat, he promptly surrendered after Alastor had burst into
the palace with his army of shadow minions.
The city of Levia was
different. It lay close to a burning ocean of fire, where large fish, ancient
sharks and sea monsters lurked beneath violent waves. The demon denizens used
boats to catch fish, sell them at outrageously high prices and consume them. In
this city, a teal symbol glowed against the red sky, an infinity symbol with
two crosses on top of another…Leviathan’s symbol.
Leviathan was another
king, also lower than Lucifer but higher than Beezelbub. He had a wife, Abyzou
and a prince son, Franz. This royal family had the appearance of sea monsters: sharp
fangs, scaly skin of dark green, ocean blue, or black. He carried a pitchfork
staff with an eel skeleton wrapped around it. Helsa, Seviathan and the rest of
the Von Eldritch family were close associates with this family, rivals of the
Magnes.
Leviathan and Alastor
engaged in battle, but alas, Leviathan lost as well. The smart demons took
refuge in Leviathan’s palace, which was partly submerged under the fiery sea.
All the cities and provinces fell under the Radio Demon. Both royal families
and cities perished.
It wasn’t long before
Alastor was wearing a trophy necklace of several black Archangel heads. The
holy harpoons and spears the Archangels were carrying were burned in a large
pile, as they weren’t very effective against the angels.
Unknown by most, there
were other lower Circles of Hell; the current one was the first uppermost one,
closest to Heaven and Earth. The second circle was a windy desert, the third, a
gloomy rain-filled filthy realm, the fourth one, a haven for gamblers and
property wars, the fifth, a trade site via the River Styx, the sixth, a gothic
land of death, the seventh, a land of weapons, the eighth, a world of mining
and disease and finally, the icy ninth circle, closest to the Void. This was
where Satan, Lucifer’s dark counterpart resided.
At least until Alastor
either recruited him or destroyed him.
Sir Pentious’ hideout
lay in ruins after the serpent lord’s defeat. His air ship lay in several
charred pieces on the ground during their final battle. The remaining egg bois
were running for their lives from hungry animated voodoo dolls with
poison-tipped pins aiming toward the minions. Baxter’s labs were now covered
with rocks, dirt and debris from the ground collapsing after more shadow demons
and creatures burst free. The Hazbin Hotel, once grand in its haphazardly
appearance was now in tatters from the Archangels and shadow spirits fighting
earlier on. The stained glass windows with apples on it now lay in glass pieces
of red and dark yellow. The circus tent that made up the roof was torn and no
longer upright. The only thing recognizable was the lit up letters of “Hazbin”
that were once on the roof.
Once the demons of
Pentagram City were freed and turned on him thanks to Charlie, the crazed Radio
Demon didn’t want to risk anymore chances, thus sending the spirits to finish
them off. There were times when Alastor would miss the crazy times he had with Charlie,
Niffty, Mimzy, Rosie, Husk and even Angel Dust. But love of power tilted to paranoia
of losing his position. As he had found a way to defeat Lucifer, he had to make
sure that the same thing didn’t happen to him.
Alastor had died once
from dogs and a gunshot when he was human. Despite being powerful, he knew that
Hell was filled with other kinds of dangers. He made sure he wouldn’t die
again.
Fortunately for him, all
the souls that the shadows had consumed seemed to make them more powerful. They
were able to fight off several more invading Archangels, even in Heaven where
the sunlight could be harmful to them. Provided they evade the angel’s spears
and not get too close to God, they were fulfilling their greedy desires to
wreak havoc throughout the realms. For now, he appeared to be back pulling the
strings of his dark demonic army. While the shadows invaded Heaven, a horde of
imps traveled to the human world to kill off more humans for Alastor and the
shadows to feast on. Most humans didn’t seem to notice…they were all too
frantic trying to save lives during the COVID 19 virus outbreak. One of the
portals opened…showing the modern city of New Orleans. Alastor peeked through
one of the portals and saw nurses wearing masks rushing patients into hospitals.
A group of kids and their parents were crying against the wall, all wearing
face masks. Teachers and parents were chatting though their cellphones and
computer screens, boarding in their homes.
One sign made Alastor
gasp out loud: it read “Mardi Gras parade and festival postponed until next
year due to outbreak. Please wash your hands, wear a mask and stay home.”
“Unbelievable…” he
breathed, tuffs twitching.
Jazz band were no longer
playing in clubs and outside. The only music that was played came from the tiny
screens of iPhones from videos. Nothing like the filling all-encompassing live
music that made New Orleans so well-known in the United States. The whole city looked
dead, devoid of vivid purple, green and yellow colors like in the past.
Alastor stood, shocked,
but then remembered all the suffering people and grinned wider.
The world of humanity
was coming to an end.
Perhaps he could add
newcomer sinners to his army without worrying about powerful royal families. Stolas,
the pervert owl demon would not be lonely now, especially with Blitzo to play
with and thousands of people entering Hell.
Alastor nodded in
approval at a sign reading “Please keep six feet apart from others around you.”
“I need to enforce that
rule in Hell. If only Angel has listened.”
Alastor stepped back and
the portal closed.
“This virus outbreak…what
pandemonium…pure entertainment!” Alastor laughed with delight. “So many
delusional protestors! Orphans, homeless folk, sick patients waiting for death
to bring them home. Mortals dying right and left. Gullible humans don’t know
what hits them until it’s far too late.” He never thought such an event could
top the drama of the 1929 Stock Market Crash…but here it was.
The crisis briefly brought
back memories of the Spanish Flu Pandemic in 1918. Back then, his mother had
gotten gravely ill and passed away. At the same time, his father had molested
him a second time and left him to fend for himself. He had spiraled into a
period of depression, cutting, and fasting…he had snapped and later killed his
father in the most painful ways possible. This was when his killing sprees
began…during the Roaring Twenties.
How ironic that history
has a way of repeating itself after a hundred years. Now, the 2020s age had
begun. Alastor had, indeed, snapped once again, though he did not feel helpless
nor sad this time.
A second life. A second chance.
A second opportunity to make all his enemies perish for good.
Like the virus, Alastor
was a nondiscriminatory bringer of death and destruction…
…and humanity was about
to enter an even Greater Depression.
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