So...It's A Deal Then?

 

Chapter One: Alastor’s Game

 

 

The year was nineteen thirty three. A tall man with short brown hair, medium brown skin and round glasses was running for his life, his feet making boot tracks in the snow, spotted with red. He wore dark pants and a white and brown shirt with a black bow-tie, all stained with blood from another victim he had butchered and eaten. The sounds of footsteps and barking dogs came from behind him. The police were chasing Alastor Moreau, a serial killer and Louisiana’s most famous radio host. Alastor ran with a crazed look of terror in his eyes…and a wide grin he kept on his face despite the situation. The man maneuvered through the trees, racing at full speed in the direction of his cabin. He felt like his lungs would burst out of his sore chest but he didn’t dare stop.

 

During the chase, Alastor had been bitten by a rabid dog in an alleyway. His arm and hand throbbed where the punctures were and his head felt inflamed. It was like someone was taking a hot knife and bashing repeatedly against his skull. Black spots danced across his vision as he ran. Several times, he felt maggots and bugs crawling in and out of his skin, always staying there no matter how hard he shook them off. The frozen lake seemed to be chasing after him as well. Alastor saw waves of water threatening to pull him under to drown.

 

With loud growls and barks, two of the police dogs bit hard into his leg. Alastor yelled out, shaking his leg frantically to get the German Shepard and Black Labrador off him. A gaping wound from his leg and torn pants splashed crimson blood as Alastor ran and wobbled along, gradually getting ahead of the officers.

 

Not too far away, he spotted a hunter dressed in deer skins, rifle at the ready. Alastor glanced down at the dead doe that the hunter had recently shot. Alastor wailed in sudden despair, for the doe had his mother’s face. He gave the hunter a murderous look and charged forward. The hunter gasped in fear as the madman raced toward him, his pupils constricted, eyes devoid of sanity.

 

The hunter raised his rifle in fear. “Don’t come any closer!”

 

But there was nothing left for Alastor now. He wasn’t going to let himself get arrested. He was going to feast on this hunter or die trying. He kept running right into the hunter’s line of fire. Through the pain and agony, his face yelled, “Do it!”

 

An ear-piercing gunshot rang out, echoing off the bare trees in the snowy woods. The bullet pierced straight between Alastor’s eyes. Alastor crashed to the snowy ground, the dogs mauling him with their paws on top. The police soon arrived and the dogs moved aside. They turned him over and there was Alastor’s mauled body and cold dead face. The hole in his head made the surrounding snow stain red with blood. His brown eyes were glazed over, and even in death, there was a strange smile on his face.

 

The hunter looked shaken at what he had done. “He’s gone,” he said. “He was going to kill me…”

 

Alastor’s body was promptly burned, his belongings destroyed or, in the case of his old radios…given away. His obituary was announced in the newspaper and at his own radio station, ironically enough. It was the last broadcast before his station, too, was destroyed. Although his fans were devastated, the majority of New Orleans were relieved that the Louisiana Lunatic was dead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alastor saw black nothingness for a while, until he could feel hard ground below his back. He slowly opened his eyes, staring at a red sky. Wasn’t he supposed to be dead?

 

He slowly sat up and stared at his hands and legs. Before his very eyes, his brown hands grew longer into a hideous shade of tan-gray colored palms, the fingernails turning into sharp unkempt claws. Strangely, there were four digits instead of five on each hand, the ring and pinkie fingers fusing together. His unnaturally proportioned bare feet were also an ugly tan-gray, with four long toes and claws extended.

 

Stretching pain coursed through him and he grit his teeth. Alastor slowly stood up on shaky legs and looked into a nearby window. His face was now pale gray, his eye glowing red and bigger than his previous eyes had been. The short brown hair on his head crept down to end near his chin, the hair turning red with black at the ends. A red and black deer tail grew from his lower back. Small black antlers grew from his head as well as fluffy red and black tuffs shaped like deer ears. He opened his mouth in shock, watching as his white teeth yellowed and grew into sharp pointed fangs. His tongue became long and lavender, the gums black. Within his groin, Alastor’s grey member was still the same as it was in the living world. Beneath his blood-stained white and brown shirt, his pale gray skin was laced with scars along his back and chest. They were scars from his father’s whippings, ritual cuttings and from attackers. Just like during the Great Depression, his new body was unnaturally bony and thin.

 

He snapped his fingers absentmindedly and nothing happened.

 

But after a few minutes, something appeared in his hands…a red vintage microphone staff.

 

“What the…?”

 

He tapped it a few times. “Hello? Is this thing on? Testing, testing…”

 

A red glowing eye appeared beneath the speaker. “I heard you loud and clear!” the voice said. ”In fact, all of Hell can hear you now! You’re live on the air!”

 

How was that possible?

 

Alastor gasped and threw the staff in front of him like it was cursed. The staff vanished before it could hit the ground and reappeared in his hands.

 

He soon realized that the staff was a part of him.

 

He gasped out loud and swore in French Creole. He tapped the staff and it blinked off before vanishing. He stared around, his eyes frantic. “Where am I? What is this place?”

 

He clutched at his throat, his radio voice sounding strange to him. This was what he must’ve sounded like to his listeners back in New Orleans.

 

“You’re in Hell, buddy,” said an evil looking demon flanked by a gang of goons. With a flick of his ears, Alastor froze in place like a deer caught in the headlights. The leader had green skin and scales. “And you’re about to become fresh meat!” The trolls held spiked bloodstained clubs and snickered.

 

Having no powers, save for his radio voice, Alastor promptly fled.

 

“Get him!” yelled the lead demon as his goons followed. Alastor wasn’t about to die again, not even in this nightmare of a world. He remembered his mother telling him that smiling was a show of strength, so he did. Out of all the forms he could take, he was stuck as a demon deer hybrid. It briefly brought back memories of him hunting deer in the woods. What a way for a former predator to become the prey.

 

On the plus side, he had better strength and enhanced hearing, sight and smell. With the glowing eyes, Alastor knew he could also see perfectly in the dark.

 

Alastor evaded his pursuers by dashing into an alleyway and hiding behind a dumpster. The footsteps faded away. Alastor looked around, then crept out. A red skinned girl wearing provocative black clothing winked at him. “Ready to have a good time?” she drawled. Alastor yelped in fear and disgust, pushing the prostitute away before heading back out into the streets.

 

Above him in the sky was a giant glowing red pentagram that took up most of the red sky. Beside it was a brown planet with a black and red pentagram on it. He felt like an alien being forced to adapt to a new planet. Forget New Orleans…this place was New Horror-leans.

 

The city was huge, the population greatly topping New Orleans…and all of Earth. It was sort of like New York and Tokyo, but more chaotic. At every corner were drug stores, strip clubs, malls and in shady areas, black markets. And the denizens themselves looked very bizarre. A majority of them took the form of colorful bi-pedal animals, though a few looked more humanoid. Alastor saw snake demons, dragon demons, demons with many eyes or some with just one eye. The human ones had similar features to when they were alive. Alastor’s eyes widened when he saw the Axeman talking to Attila the Hun and Dr. Facilier. Alastor was lucky to have avoided the Axeman during his killing sprees.

 

A group of demons sneered at Alastor, taunting “deer boy newbie,” as he walked. An arrow narrowly missed Alastor’s head as a bull demon cheered “bull’s eye!” Alastor promptly took the arrow from the wall and threw it right into the demon’s right eye. The bull roared in pain, covering his eye as he stomped off.

 

“That’s how you really make a bull’s eye,” Alastor smirked before moving on. He briefly spotted a bi pedal wolf smoking on a balcony of his apartment. “What’cha lookin’ at, punk?” the wolf yelled, spitting on the street before continuing his smoking. Signs nearby read “drugz,” “smoking,” and “endless spam” in bold letters on brick walls. The putrid smells of odor and garbage reached Alastor’s nostrils.

 

Then another thought came to him: where was he going to live? Just the thought of him becoming homeless after living a luxurious life in the nineteen twenties both stunned and infuriated him.

 

On the news, a black and white screen showed Tom Trench sitting at a desk, talking about weather and turf wars. He wore a suit with a neck tie and his face was a face mask below short blonde hair. Below him was the 666 News logo in the right hand corner.

 

“…and then I died in a trench by a gas attack in the nineteen hundreds,” he said, pointing to his gas mask face. “Hence why I look like this. Now no gas can get me…as I’m already dead. Take that, you toxic producing demons out there.”

 

Demons were smoking, fighting, raping, killing and just generally being cruel to each other. Those of similar species hung out more often, excluding others. A group of Hell born elite wearing velvet clothes and top hats with eyes and teeth whispered to each other while glaring at Alastor.

 

“Sinner scum,” Helsa spat, giving off an aura of superiority in her glowing orbs. Her skin was dark grey and her hair was shaped like octopus tentacles. She wore a bright pink dress with fur trim and carried an expensive white purse.

 

One of the elite joined in, a pink creature with punk clothing, wild colorful hair, and an overall dinosaur-like appearance. “They do nothing but add to the population and chaos of this dump.”

 

 “Those native to Hell have a hard enough time as it is without catering to those common pre human fools,” another added. It was a man dressed in green wearing a top hat with eyes and teeth. Seviathan. “They can’t even reproduce, let alone keep proper jobs. Immigrants need to stay out of our realm and go back to the void where they were spat out. If only my royal girlfriend could see that.”

 

Helsa scoffed, “That spoiled bitch is oblivious to everything that goes on around her. She should’ve been blind decades ago.”

 

“You make Charlotte blind, Hels, you’re gonna pay.”

 

“Make me, Sevia. I already have enough money.”

 

 

A growl rumbled in Alastor’s throat as he felt those burning critical eyes on him. Alastor had first-hand experience with discrimination as a man of mixed heritage back on Earth. Now in Hell, it appeared to be less about skin color and gender than it was about class and nationality. Alastor was reminded of the different forms of discrimination that Blacks, Native Americans, Irish and Italians dealt with as he had learned about in history.

 

His ears flicked on their own, taking in the sounds and sometimes the distant screams of this new place.

 

“I miss my mama,” he thought.

 

In the distance, Alastor heard loud evil laughter as Sir Pentious blasted at buildings from a metal blaster gun, the man looking like a well-dressed black and yellow snake. “Bow before my mechanical might, cowards!”

 

He stood on a podium carried by metal propellers, while a bunch of Egg Bois followed him on the street below. Thankfully, he was far enough away from Alastor to notice him. Running behind the egg minions was a blue scientist fish dressed in a lab coat carrying a vial of liquid in his hands.

 

“Hurry up, Baxter!” Sir Pentious yelled, looking behind him. “That clone serum won’t get used by itself. More minions at once!”

 

“Coming, sir,” Baxter said in a German accent, trying not to slip in egg yolk and step on egg shells.

 

“This place is a mad circus for lost causes!” Alastor thought, almost saying it out loud. Then another thought came to him. “If we’re all mad here, then why can’t I be the maddest of all?”

 

And mad he was.

 

Alastor was mad that he somehow ended up in Hell, despite killing all those rapists and racist men in life. He should be in Heaven with his mother, not down in Hell with his asshole of a father, wherever he was. He was mad that even in the afterlife, he and so many others were treated like shit by ignorant folk too stuck in their ways and beliefs.

 

Alastor glanced up and saw a billboard which read “66.6 FM, brought to you by Muse the Demon Radio!” The picture showed a man dressed in a brown suit with a bright red necktie decorated with cris-crossing lines shaped like the metal beams of radio towers. His head was an old fashioned radio, his eyes white triangular shaped dials, his teeth metallic.

 

“Amusing, Muse,” Alastor himself mused. He clenched his fists. No way was he going to let this piece of clunky junk run Hell’s radio station. If Alastor could broadcast through his microphone, then he might as well make a goal to become Hell’s only broadcaster. “Demon Radio, you’ll meet the Radio Demon soon enough.” Mentally, he put Muse as the first on his hit list.

 

Although it was Alastor’s first day in Hell, his drive to kill grew stronger by the minute. And his desire for flesh made him even hungrier than he had been during the Great Depression. He wished he had more power. Just being able to broadcast what was going on anywhere wasn’t enough for him.

 

As if reading his thoughts, the microphone spoke up in a radio voice. “I believe there is a way to get power, power beyond even your wildest dreams. You remember your voodoo rituals, yes?”

 

Alastor nodded.

 

“Then there should be a book that’ll allow you to do all sorts of things. Now we just need to find one.”

 

But where?

 

Alastor made his way into a bar where he met one of the Overlords, a deer with a flaming blue head and a deer skull for a face. He wore a suit with a black bow tie and buttons.

 

“Excuse me sir,” Alastor asked.

 

The deer turned around. “Yes?”

 

“You don’t happen to know where I can find a powerful spell book do you?”

 

He didn’t expect the Overlord to answer to some stranger.

 

Surprisingly the Overlord did answer. “Sure. There’s one that Lord Stolas keeps in his palace. It’s not too far from Imp City.”

 

“Thank you kindly,” Alastor said before making his way there.

 

“Why’d you tell him the location of such an object, Furfur?” asked a bird demon with two heads wearing comedy and tragedy theater masks.

 

“Comodia. Malum,” Furfur addressed the fellow bird Overlord with a laugh. “He’s a sinner. Stolas loves killing off foolish ones like him! Ha! He’s gonna die!”

 

Nearby, a grey skinned woman wearing a pink hat with black roses on it, eavesdropped on their conversation. She shook her head as she daintily sipped her tea.

 

 Alastor soon reached the palace, narrowly avoiding killer imps roaming the streets. It was a great brick building covered with yellow sigils of Stolas along the high walls. Several windows had white and pink stained glass designs. A balcony had banners sowing the family crest and white and pink double doors with a silver crown design on it. Two bird guards holding glaives and wearing armor stood by the front doors, their feathers white with black spots, their yellow becks shaped like those of eagles. Out near the garden, the white owl queen sat with other owls drinking tea with a pink layered cake in front of them. There was a water fountain with blood on the bottom basin. The statue consisted of a crown and a posing Stolas in the center.

 

Alastor spotted some green vines off to the side. Checking to see that no one was watching, Alastor grabbed onto the vines and climbed up. The vines ended not too far from a stained glass window. But the window was too high up for him to reach. Alastor tried not to look down. Just because he was already dead, didn’t mean that being so high up was comforting. The vine began to snap under his weight and a bird guard patrolled along the lawn, nearly looking in his direction. The vine snapped and he almost yelled out and fell. Thankfully, he had extended his long claws, which dug into the small crevices of the wall, briefly keeping him in place. Wasting no time, he clawed his way up to the window, lifting himself up. He was surprisingly strong, despite his lanky body. He raised his fist, getting ready to break the window, but then he stopped. What if he had a little bit of magic in him as a demon? A little bit of natural magic he could use?

 

Alastor concentrated and found that he could turn into a full demon form. A form he quickly grew to appreciate. His black antlers branched out from his head and his eyes turned into red radio dials. He knew that if he transformed further into a wendigo, all Hell would break loose. He stared at himself in the reflective surface of the glass and smiled. The window promptly shattered into pieces on the marble floor inside. He quickly swung himself inside just as the bird guard glanced up toward the window. Avoiding the shards on the floor, Alastor reverted back to his base form and looked around. Nothing much in the room except old furniture, candles, and tree branches decorated with feathers. No sign of books anywhere.

 

Alastor knew all about Voodoo and rituals because he had practiced them with his mother on Earth. He found out that he had a spiritual connection to Kalfu and an affinity to fire. It was only natural for the microphone to remind him of what he had learned in the past. Alastor made his way down the hallways, curved steps leading down to the lower levels. The rugs were red and decorated with symbols and wings. Decorating the walls were small black emblems of the Gnostic demon family crest, a crown flanked by wings and an owl head underneath.

 

Alastor entered another room, this one decorated in pink drapes and a queen size bed. There was a large vanity area with bottles of makeup by the mirror. An old fashioned white dresser was by a wall. On a bedside table were several pictures: Octavia playing with Charlie and Helsa when they were little at the ash beach and Blood Red Sea. Octavia and Charlie going to Loo-Loo World together, posing by a Disney looking castle eating apple shaped popsicles. Octavia with a grumpy expression on her face, her father doing a goofy face and pose next to her.

 

The microphone appeared and the glowing eye scanned for books at a distance. The eye read the tiles and saw the book covers while the books were still lined up.

 

“Anything?” Alastor asked.

 

“Just books on the Lessor and Greater Keys of Solomon, owl history, herbs, astronomy, Chinese festivals and some romance novels.”

 

“Urgh, where is it? You said it’d be here.”

 

“Technically the Overlord did.”

 

“He wanted me killed, didn’t he?”

 

“Welcome to Hell, deer face.”

 

“What did you just call…”

 

 Both of them paused when some humming was heard. The bathroom door was ajar and a book was on the floor. Ever so silently, Alastor crept to the door and slowly opened it wider. The microphone buzzed in warning but Alastor ignored it. The book had a symbol on the back cover with the name “Octavia” written on it. Alastor picked it up and looked at the front cover. It was black and had an eye in the center. Instead of voodoo symbols, the book title read: “Living with a hyperactive dad and a distant mother.” In smaller letters it said, “Cheating parents 101.” It appeared to be some sort of diary.

 

“Wow that’s deep,” the microphone muttered as Alastor gently put down the book. Princess Octavia was humming to herself in the shower, a combination of hoots and a British tone. She turned the water off and fluffed up her white and grey feathery chest, sending droplets everywhere. Her pink dress hung on a hanger by the door, her golden crown by the sink.

 

Octavia opened the shower curtains and Alastor froze. Octavia’s eyes widened.

 

“Hello,” said an embarrassed Alastor.

 

Octavia took one look at the tall smiling demon staring at her, and screamed. Alastor’s hand was over her mouth in seconds. The guards would surely be alerted of his presence by now.

 

“Sorry darling,” Alastor whispered.

 

He reached forward with his other hand and pinched her throat with two of his fingers. Octavia gasped a few times, then went limp. Alastor wrapped her up in a white towel, picked her up and gently placed her on her bed.

 

“Ever the idiotic gentleman I see,” said the microphone.

 

“Close your head,” Alastor seethed. “She’ll be fine, she’s only knocked out.”

 

“I don’t have a head.”

 

‘You know that’s not what I…never mind, let’s go.”

 

Outside, the guards were already searching the grounds and some were flapping their wings in the air. A few hurried down the halls inside. Time was running out.

 

Alastor glanced at a big room with double doors: the master bedroom. Alastor made his way over to the doors and opened them. Inside was a master bed with several pillows, a white head board and banners above the curtains. A royal portrait showed Stolas, his wife Melodia and their daughter Octavia, dressed in red robes. Not too far from a diamond chandelier, was another portrait of Stolas on his red throne and a detailed picture of a king’s crown.

 

The Gnostic owl king was currently talking on a white rotary phone with a few wings on it. He was wearing a red robe with white furs and had a gold crown on his head. His black top hat had eyes that matched his own.

 

“Hello Donner,” he said. “How’s your son, Blitzy doing? Still looking for work and being a rebel?”

 

Alastor looked around and then he saw it. Right next to a Satanic ritual book, cover facing forward was a grimoire with Voodoo and Satanic symbols on it.

 

“So what if you want Blitzy to be a boring killer and trickster? If he’s pursuing musical theater, just let him have at it. You don’t want to crush his musical theater dreams do you? Oh wait, you already did. Some asshole father you are.”

 

Alastor inched his way closer toward the book.

 

“Do you know what happens when I’m angry, Donner? When I’m angry, I become hungry and when I’m hungry, I want to…Hey!”

 

Stolas gasped as he spotted Alastor grabbing the book.

 

“Intruder!” he yelled. ”Kill him!”

 

In an instant, several guards burst into the room, holding deadly spears.

 

“I’m gonna have to call you back,” Stolas said before slamming the phone hard.

 

Alastor looked down below the window, the ground was many feet below. The guards rushed at him, Alastor not wanting to jump out the window from such a height.

 

Just then, a forceful wind, blew back the guards, sending them toward Stolas. One crashed into his lap, the other into the wall.

 

“Get off, get off!” he squawked, pushing the guard off. Octavia rushed into the room, now in her pink dress. “What happened?” she asked.

 

“Bastard’s stealing my book!” Stolas cried.

 

Alastor couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw something strange and amazing. An elegantly dressed woman was floating in the air, one hand holding a pink umbrella in it. Her other hand was the one that caused the wind blasts. She held out her hand to Alastor with a stern look.

 

“Let’s go, foolish fawn.”

 

Alastor took her hand and the two of them flew away from the window and farther from the palace. Stolas yelled in anger as they left. Melodia and her family watched the two flying individuals with puzzled looks on their faces. Then they went back to their tea.

 

 

“I’m Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart.”

 

“Rosie,” she responded. “Don’t go thinking that I’ll save you again.”

 

The two of them landed by Franklin and Rosie’s Emporium. They had discussed musicals and kill counts along the way. The shop was currently closed but it had clothing and antiques displayed in the windows.

 

“Thank you for that,” Alastor said. “Why’d you save me anyway?”

 

“I overheard my fellow Overlords mentioning a sinner going to risk his life for some magic book. Figured it wouldn’t be fair to let a newcomer die, even in this place. You’re not from around here, are you?”

 

“No, mam’.”

 

“Just be careful out there,” she said. Despite being new to Hell, Alastor’s charming personality had already gotten to Rosie.  She jabbed a claw against Alastor’s chest, “And if I ever find you doing stupid stuff like that again…”

 

Alastor held up his hands. “You have my word that I won’t.”

 

“Good. Tea and a massacre singalong in a week?”

 

“That would be splendid!”

 

Alastor didn’t bother to mention that he only liked black coffee and hard liquor.

 

“Goodbye for now.” She eyed his clothes distastefully. “And do change into some better clothing.”

 

Alastor kissed her knuckles and the two of them parted ways.

 

With the book finally in his possession, Alastor began the ritual in a wood full of dead trees. He drew Kalfu’s veve on the ground, surrounding the symbol within a larger pentagram. Several black and red candles surrounded the circle…Rosie had let him borrow some of her own after he had claimed he was practicing a Satanic ritual dance. He then invoked Kalfu. The Loa appeared as a man with black skin and flaming bull horns from his head. He wore a red suit with a top hat to match. His mischievous eyes glowed red. Shadow demons with glowing eyes appeared in the surrounding darkness from the black portal.

 

“Greetings Alastor,” Kalfu said with a smile of sharp teeth. “As you are a person who’s faithful to us and one who has witnessed death and loss, I hereby bestow a portion of my power onto you. You will be able to control the shadows, teleport, conjure fire, make portals, possess others and many more. Remember, your shadow form will be separated from your body and take a form of its own. My demons will get ten percent of your full power to use as they please. And along the way…you’ll have to learn some harsh lessons, experiences that can break even the strongest demon.”

 

Alastor nodded in understanding.

 

Kalfu cut his hand, handing Alastor a black bladed knife etched in both angelic and demonic symbols. Kalfu then held out his palm for Alastor to shake. Alastor cut his own palm and their blood intermingled as they shook hands.

 

“Why does this feel too easy?” Alastor asked himself before shrugging it off.

 

The Loa extended his palm. Red electricity raced out and consumed Alastor.

 

It all happened before Alastor had the chance to blink.  Through his high pitched screams and deer barks, Alastor felt something being ripped from him, the pain almost making him black out. Moments later, a grinning look-a-like shadow hovered by him. The dark subconscious thoughts that Alastor had in his previous life was now in shadow form. Shadow creatures rapidly circled around him and black tentacles enveloped his entire body like a macabre cocoon. His body curled up like a fetus in the darkness.

 

Tingling hot red electricity spread into his head, then moved down his body, much of it resting in his hands and fingers. He snapped his fingers on instinct and a burst of red magic sparked to life like a firework. Voodoo symbols and static filled the air as power coursed through him, magic merging with every nerve and fiber of his being until it became part of him.

 

Then knowledge of magic and voodoo spells entered into his brain. The new information faded into the back of his head, staying there like he had it within him all his life. The tentacles moved away, allowing him to move. His body glowed with a red aura. Alastor briefly shape-shifted into a red stag before turning back again.

 

Alastor snapped his fingers again, this time changing his outfit. His old clothes were replaced with a tattered red dress coat with vermillion vertical light red stripes going down it. His undershirt was bright red with an upside down black cross design. His pants were long and wine colored. Black tap dancing shoes were on his feet, bright red deer prints were underneath his soles. A wine colored bow tie was under his long gray neck. His clawed hands were soon covered by dark wine colored gloves with red spots on the tips and knuckles. He waved his right hand and a monocle appeared under his right eye. His deer tail was now hidden underneath the tail end of his dress coat.

 

Alastor took in his new appearance, his body glowing with a red aura.

 

"HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHA!"

 

Alastor let out a maniacal laugh that rose higher into hysterical giggles. All this supernatural power was coursing through his veins, and he loved every second of it.

 

Finally the magic quietly faded with a humming sound.

 

“Good luck,” Kalfu said before he and the demons vanished. 

 

Alastor soon toppled many Overlords, including Muse. He had barged into the radio studio, interrupting Muse’s show.

 

“What is the meaning of this?!” Muse Marconi exclaimed.

 

Muse fired electricity at Alastor but he blocked it with a tentacle.

 

“There can only be one Radio Demon in Hell,” Alastor said, grabbing onto Muse’s suit. “And that won’t be you.” Muse tried to fight back but to no avail. Alastor ripped off his metal radio head and tossed the screaming contraption out the window. He snapped his fingers and in a haze of neon colors and static, the studio transformed into a large cabin with radio towers nearby. The new studio was by the woods as well. Alastor snapped his fingers and Muse’s body and head burst into flames.

 

Who knew that finding a place to live would be so easy? Private and rent-free as well.

 

Alastor grinned and spoke into his microphone, the red light blinking on.

 

“Greetings denizens of Hell. Your former radio host has fallen from grace…quite literally. Now, it’s time to welcome your one and only new host, Alastor on 66.6 FM!”

 

It wasn’t long before sinners called him the Radio Demon, a name Alastor embraced as evidence of his increasing influence. Even the most fearsome of monsters were scared, for good reason, at the demon who could shatter reality, if not their souls.

 

Now that Alastor had his powers, he could also summon his shadow and dark minions to do his chaotic work. His microphone staff could now play jazz music, hypnotize demons and send out destructive radio waves that blew out brains and destroyed nearby buildings. His minions looted stores, slaughtered demons and feasted on deer carcasses in the streets. Several voodoo imps carried demon heads on spikes as they jumped around wearing top hats and pinstriped suits to fit their small sizes. Skeletal deer and shadowy deer watched with evil grins at the burning carnage. Laughing tracks emitted from the staff as Alastor admired his gruesome handiwork.

 

Alastor met flapper woman Mimzy Hannigan at her jazz club and they bonded over songs, drinks, and the occasional murder. They also talked about their memories from New Orleans. Alastor eventually became an Overlord, bonding with hell born Overlord Rosie Poppins who became his friend and mother-figure. Overlords Valentino, Vox, and Velvet would arrive in later decades.

 

Alastor had overthrown several Overlords, including Overlords of the Telephone, Telegraph, Textile, Cars, Books, and even a demon with a grandfather clock face. He made a truce with the demon of Film and the demon of theater. Alastor also learned the Hell names of his parents: Neleus for his father and Poena for his mother. He didn’t know where they were or if his mother was even in Hell. He had assumed that she had gone to Heaven, but maybe she was just waiting for permission. They said his father was a demonic black stag and his mother was an angel doe humanoid.

 

Hopefully, he would find them in the future.

 

Alastor became one of the most feared Overlords, even getting into king Lucifer’s good graces. Both men were goofy and enjoyed having fun…and both had powerful dark sides that were not to be trifled with. In fact, Lucifer didn’t mind that Alastor went off and slaughtered many demons. Alastor was almost like an executioner for him. Less souls equaled less trouble. As long as Alastor obeyed the rules and didn’t cause too much trouble, Lucifer was content to let the Radio Demon do his thing. Though, they did disagree on a few things: Lucifer liked polka music while Alastor preferred jazz. Alastor was also stunned that Lucifer could only make somewhat decent carnival food, but he didn’t dare mention it out loud. If Alastor was a dapper man, Lucifer was a ringmaster. Lucifer and Alastor even bonded over drinks while watching Lucifer’s wife, Lilith perform on stage in a gorgeous blue and purple dress and a hat with pink flowers that had moving eyes in them. Her band, Resist, played in the background as she sang her heart out on stage (quite literally, as a witch doctor had to rush over to put the organ back into place before the show continued). Lilith sang many classics: “God spelled Backwards Is Dog,” “The Apple of My Eye,” “Fall From Grace,” “Adam the Asshole,” and “Grieve For Eve.”

 

Later in his cabin, Alastor looked through the spell book to find anything interesting. A sketch book lay next to him on a table, with well detailed drawings of crocodiles, deer, and radios in it. Not too far away was Alastor’s grander lair underground in the shadow world. The above ground cabin near the woods was more of a casual hideout and studio. The radio towers from his roof and nearby watched the area with all seeing eyes at the very top. Any intruder who came near the place would be forced to the ground by the radio waves and consumed by shadowy monsters. Even those who wore ear plugs would be at the mercy of the waves.

 

Toward the end of the book, Alastor stumbled across a Satanic pentagram drawing and spell that would allow him to briefly enter the living world. It was the same spell that I.M.P. would use to enter Earth and kill humans for their clients. It would be a great opportunity to build his army and recruit allies to work for him. He knew that there would be powerful enemies around to hinder his broader goal of someday taking over Hell and the hierarchy system. Plus, it got boring working alone at times.

 

Everyone would be equal in a chaotic world, all of those hopeless denizens tumbling into death and failure while Alastor watched. No more oppression from anyone else, only fear and respect. Even the more powerful rulers would eventually be at his mercy. Everyone would be puppets for his grand act…those who disobeyed wouldn’t live to see the finale. Hell would be the first world stage, then maybe Heaven and Earth. If the world was a stage, then the stage was a world of entertainment for Alastor.

 

Alastor grinned sinisterly. This was going to be very entertaining.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two: The Chipper Cleaner

 

Niffty lives her life as a Japanese American woman and teenager in the 1950s. She is little, with short black hair and pale skin. She is born in the 1920s…on March 22 (VA birthdate), 1929! Being the same age as Vaggie when she died at age 22, Niffty died in 1951. She is a human named Nerissa Nifuti (after the maid. Her last name is Niffty in Japanese). She works as a maid for a white adoptive family after her parents are taken to an internment camp for being Japanese. Niffty faces taunts and hate for being Japanese at her school and by her family. Niffty lives in West Virginia. Pearl Harbor bombing in 1941 traumatizes everyone. During World War Two from 1939 -1945, Niffty is in her early teens.

 

Alastor appears to Niffty between 1933 and 1950. 1946. Niffty is 17.

 

Niffty wishes for true love and her fanfiction and cooking and cleaning to be appreciated. Then she encounters Alastor. Alastor gifts Niffty with three things: a new boyfriend, appreciation for her work, romance mangas and, as a bonus: a radio. The radio has a smiling grin on it, one of many versions that Alastor made. Niffty calls Alastor “senpai,” already charmed by him. Niffty signs a contract, agreeing to help him out.

 

But Niffty gets more than what she bargained for. Her boyfriend is abusive. Her fanfictions gets attention from her friends and attracts ugly horny males to her. Her adoptive family appreciates her cleaning and cooking so much, they make her do more. Niffty looks for the strange demon’s guidance, remembering him saying, “If you ever need my advice, just turn on the radio and call out my name.” She does, the radio seeming to appear when she needs it. The radio blinks on and jazz music plays, along with an alluring voice. Hypnotized by the radio and tired of her boyfriend, Niffty goes and kills him. She also sets his house on fire, with a crazed laugh. “He took my virginity, so I took his life.” She then goes and kills her racist adoptive family (something she wouldn’t normally do) and cleans up the area very well.

 

Niffty’s actions draw attention to the police. They break into her house in 1951 when she is 22. Niffty gets stabbed several times near her thighs by the racist officers. One officer is a relative of Niffty’s former boyfriend. Before anyone can stop him, he throws her into a burning fireplace for revenge, where she dies. The radio vanishes from Earth.  

 

 

Chapter Three: The Grumpy Gambler

Husk lives his life as an Irish American man in the 1900s to 1970s. Husk is born on December 10 (VA birthdate) 1896, the same year as Alastor’s birth!  He is a human named Hilario Foley (name meaning happy in contrast to his grumpy personality in Hell, surname meaning plunderer in Irish). Husk is born in Las Vegas to his parents. In his youth, he enjoys being around children, singing and putting on magic shows. He adores cats. Husk faces discrimination for being Irish, soon having to work in second class jobs. He is bullied in school and his family loses their jobs. In addition, his father is a heavy drinker, which encourages Husk to get into his addiction as a teen. Husk eventually makes a living by working at a casino, having previously been exposed to the heavy gambling culture and the thrill of chance games. He plays many games, Solitaire, Poker, Blackjack, among others. Husk enters World War Two in 1940 until its end in 1945. Husk endures PTSD from the war, ending up with nowhere to go.

 

Alastor appears to Husk between 1933 and 1970s. 1946. Husk is 25.

 

Husk wishes for money, a comfortable life, booze and a chance to find true love. Then he encounters Alastor. Alastor gifts Husk with three things: several stacks of booze, enough money to start a career in the gambling business, increased luck in all things, and, as a bonus: a radio. Husk signs a contract, agreeing to help him out.

 

Husk becomes lucky in gambling and soon, he becomes wealthy. He kills many people in the war and he also wins bar brawls. He also gets a wife and the two have a child. But he gets more than what he bargained for as time went on. His drinking addiction gets worse, and so does his gambling and reckless spending. It becomes so bad that his wife files for divorce, taking his child with her. Sometime between 1955 and 1975, Husk leaves to fight in the Vietnam War and survives, but at a great cost. When he comes back, he is traumatized, having nearly died eight times. With nothing left to live for as an old man, Husk drinks himself to death in 1971 at age 75. The radio vanishes from Earth.

 

 

 

Chapter Four: A Hellish Mess

 

Niffty ends up in Hell in her cyclops form in 1951. She discovers that she can move very fast, which helps her evade attacks from predatory demons who target the young. An evil dragon breathes fire at her and she flinches…only to find that she is immune. Niffty conjures a large sewing needle and stabs the evil attackers. But one giant creature picks her up and tosses her into the burning lake of fire. She plunges to the bottom of the lake, unable to breach the surface as sinners sink to the bottom instead of floating like in regular water. Though Niffty can survive in hot places, the heat and pressure becomes uncomfortable. There are also fiery underwater monsters to avoid. There is no way for her to interact with the world, make friends and no one to fall in love with.

 

Until one demon is alerted by her presence…

 

After having signed the contract on Earth, Niffty’s presence is sensed by Alastor’s shadow. The shadow reaches in and picks up Niffty, the little demon gasping for breath. Then, she meets Alastor. Alastor reminds Niffty of the deal she had made in the living world and invites her to shake his hand to seal it. Niffty is eager to do so, already enamored by the Radio Demon’s charm. Niffty soon works for Alastor, making his meals, cleaning his cabin-like lair underground (Deer’s Den), sewing voodoo dolls and tailoring his suits. She also is handy in fighting as she is immune to fire, speedy, skillful with her hands and can fit into small places. In exchange, Alastor gives her a place to stay, money, some journals and clothing for her hobbies, plus voodoo creatures for her to eat and play with. Niffty is soon summoned from the fireplace and gets to work cleaning the hotel rooms and helping make meals for the hotel residents. Niffty writes erotic fanfiction and sews in her spare time. Niffty calls herself Niffty.

 

Niffty’s true intentions would eventually be revealed. Niffty seeks to be doted on by lots of men, and she lives in a fantasy world of her own. And she’ll use any means necessary to make the world of Hell her own.

 

Chapter Five: Cat’s Out Of The Bag

 

Husk ends up in his black and white cat form with red car suit wings in 1971. He gets into more bar fights and shoots at demons who try and steal his gambling money. Husk hisses and his cornered and chased by Hellhounds.

 

Until one demon is alerted by his presence…

 

After having signed the contract on Earth, Husk’s presence is sensed by Alastor’s shadow. Alastor’s shadow swoops in and finishes off the hellhounds, saving Husk. Then he meets Alastor. Alastor reminds Husk of the deal he had made in the living world and invites him to shake his hand to seal it. Husk refuses at first but Alastor reminds him that he saved his life…now Husk must work for him. Alastor grins and threatens Husk with the thing cats fear most. Husk concedes before Alastor can enact on throwing him into the burning lake. Husk groans out loud and, having no other choice, shakes it. Husk calls himself Husk, but Alastor likes calling him Husker, much to his frustration. Husk soon protects Alastor in battle, flying through the air, scratching and killing enemy demons and even former Overlords. Husk uses blade cards, his claws and teeth to attack and his wings to defend himself and Alastor. Husk also provides Alastor with hard liquor. Alastor gives Husk money, booze, and a place to stay. He also promises that Husk will find love, though neither one believes it. Husk had lost the ability to love years ago due to the wars, drinking, and his self-interests…plus being influenced by Alastor’s deal. Alastor summons Husk from the Blackjack casino, just as he was about to win the pot. Husk soon works at the front desk and as a bartender at the hotel, swearing at everyone, gambling and drinking booze.

 

Eventually Husk would bond with his new friends, and grow closer to Angel Dust.