Alastor Comic: A Day In The After Life

 

Alastor Prequel Comic: “A Day In The After Life”

 

“Let’s go for a stroll.”

 

 

 

Pentagram City, located in Hell, was hustling and bustling like any other city. What was unique about the area, however, was the vast crimson sky and red clouds up above. A large glowing red pentagram hovered in the air above the city, taking up much of the sky. A lone ray of light shown onto the street below at an angle.

 

Below, cars and trucks honked and drove along a narrow street. Several streetlights to the right were held up with bones, the glowing lamps taking the shapes of yellow eyes with a few lashes. Off to the left was a black building that read “club” and “boose” on it in bold red letters. Higher on the building was a red eye structure and a structure of a mouth with sharp white teeth for decoration. Cracked windows were perched up above. A long yellow sign read “50% off Cocaine” on a dark wall specked with red like cooled lava. The upper border of the building was decorated with a prominent row of red upside down Christian Crosses all along it. Above that was a large skull structure, along with red pentagrams in circles on other buildings nearby.

 

There were more advertisement signs around the area, promoting drugs, clubs and porn. One sign read “Strippers,” another said “Love Drugs” in yellow letters with a yellow heart in the middle. Below a light blue smaller sign that read “50%” with a drug needle, a cracked theater sign read in bold letters, “Screening XXX Babes.” A few boxes lay here and there. One smoking demon walked down the steps next to yellow crime scene tape near the theater, while a rat demon scurried off. Posing alone on a red pentagram was a smiling statue of Hell’s king, Lucifer. He wore his usual suit, tailcoat and large top hat with a snake around it, an apple cane in his hand.

 

More demons prowled the streets, many of them smoking and wearing suits. One stood with a cigarette in hand, wearing a white suit and hat. A gray octopus demon was chatting with a smaller demon near an alley. A grinning demon with horns, a pink suit, dark hat and a bowtie walked by. “Meth” was painted on one wall by a shadow figure with red eyes in a broken window. A pink eye on a red glass door watched the passerby. Another demon with a hat and eyes all over his body glanced around curiously. The octopus demon strangled the other demon in the background.

 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

 

The dog-like demon wearing the pink suit stopped in his tracks, tattered ears lowered. The tapping sound was coming from a pair of black heeled dress shoes. Accompanying the tapping sound was the sound of humming and music.

 

The humming and music sounded cheerful, but it was executed at a slow pace.

 

“Hey hobo man

Hey dapper Dan

You’ve both got your style

But brother, you’re never fully dressed without a smile.”

 

Mixed within the upbeat, old time Annie music was low-sounding foreboding horns that gave off the feeling of unease. It was almost like hearing music from a slowed old-time film in darkness.

 

“Your clothes may be Beau Brummelly

They stand out a mile

But brother, you’re never fully dressed without a smile.”

 

 

The smoking demon in the white suit stood and watched the one who was humming the song. A single eyed creature and a rat demon watched as well.

 

The man was slender and tall, dressed in a crimson dress coat with vermillion lighter red stripes going vertically down the sides. A black bowtie with a red center lay just above his red undershirt decorated with a black upside down cross design. He wore gloves with red tips and dark pants with red borders at the end. His face was a light gray and his red glowing eyes took up much of his face. A monocle connected by a thin black chain rested under his right eye. His nose was quite pointed and his sharp yellow teeth, even more so. His hair was red and black, and deer-like tufts rested on his head, like ears. There were also two small black antlers sticking out from the center of his head.

 

The man in red strolled by a small sign that advertised porn films that porn star Angel Dust was in. “Anal Ain’t So Bad, 1:30,” “It Fit After All, 2:00.” “A Third Hole, 3:00,” and “The Tale of the Lost Dildo, 4:00.” The sign was by more yellow crime scene tape and a glowing teal light. Above that was a poster with a naked butt and black thong that read, “The Spanked Crusaders: Slap!”

 

The man humming was Alastor, the fearsome Radio Demon. A shadow of him grinning appeared over a group of frightened demons near a wall. One was the white suited demon on a stroll. The octopus demon with three eyes, holding a dead blue demon stood very still. Another demon wearing a baseball cap peered out from inside a red glowing garbage can. Another octopus demon was holding a small dagger. Alastor paid them no mind as he continued his walk. It was a beautiful Sunday morning and he was in the mood for a nice cup of dark Joe.

 

Alastor arrived to his destination. A white bat sign read “café” underneath a tattered stripped awning decorated with two skulls and two bones going across it. A menu sign was framed by bones nearby. An old black castle gate stood open over the double glass doors.

 

Still humming his favorite tune, Alastor walked up to the front. A purple serpent-like monster with sunglasses, dark clothes and white hair, nervously held open the door for him. Alastor smiled in thanks as he walked inside, his tattered coat trailing behind him. Inside the café were red tables and brown chairs vaguely shaped like devil heads, two holes and an arch making up the faces.

 

“Good morning fine sir!” Alastor greeted as he went over to the front counter. The server demon wore large round bifocals and had a light blue face with horns and fish fins attached to his cheeks. He wore a red apron over a white undershirt and dark pants with shoes. He also had a long blue tail.

 

“Hello, Alastor,” he said with a nervous smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

 

“I’d like a table for one outside, a mug of black coffee and Southern deviled eggs, please.”

 

“O-of course, sir, Right this way.”

 

The server led him through another door to an outside pavilion. The server was desperate to not make any mistakes…one could cost him his second life if the Radio Demon was in a bad mood. He hoped that the deer demon wasn’t hungry for seasoned poisson as well.

 

 

Alastor was soon relaxing on a shiny wooden chair held by a claw structure. He read the newspaper in one hand while holding a white mug of coffee in the other. The bitter taste of the coffee woke him up more, the flavor pleasing. The server carefully placed a plate of eggs on Alastor’s table, then scurried off. Light green hedges and pine trees offered some privacy, while a rose bush added to the decorum. Indeed, plants and animals could grow in Hell, though they were more often found in gardens of wealthy demons and areas more closed off to the public. Perched on a wrought iron fence were two birds: a red eyed black bird with a long yellow beck and a smaller gray bird with white eyes.

 

Alastor picked up one of his deviled eggs with Cajun seasoning on top and tossed it to the ground where the birds were.

 

“Here you go, you filthy scavengers, enjoy!”

 

The gray bird flew down from the fence and bent down to eat the egg with its beck and row of teeth. The black bird sneered at the smaller bird with sharp teeth of its own. The black bird leaned in and snapped its beck aggressively at the small bird. The gray bird held on as the black bird tried to snatch the food away. The black soon bird opened its mouth threateningly with a loud caw, revealing sharp teeth and a long tongue.

 

With no warning, the black bird pounced and sank its teeth into the smaller bird. The gray bird violently flapped its wings and cried out. Talons, feathers and blood splattered as squawked pierced the air. The black bird firmly seized its prey, digging into the wet feathery neck of the limp gray bird. Alastor enjoyed the show from his seat, like a spectator watching a Roman gladiator match. Killing other demons was fun, but it was also entertaining to watch others fight to the death. He finished up his eggs and stood up to leave.

 

“I-is there anything you’d like for des…” the server began as he walked outside with another tray in his hand. The black bird reared up in the air, flapping its wings, blood smeared over its face and coating its body. The server yelped and covered his head with the plate. The server then ran off with the black bird flying after him.

 

“No thanks,” Alastor said. “I’d say this next course is…for the birds.”

 

Audience laughter emitted from his hidden microphone staff.

 

Alastor chuckled at the commotion before going on his merry way.

 

 

A peaceful silence soon fell as Alastor made his way through a park. A white winding path paved around benches and lone iron streetlamps. The trees had bushy green tops and trunks with white stripes. Light shone through the treetops, illuminating the green grass, making it appear like nighttime. Fireflies hovered around and dotted several areas as the chirps of crickets provided a peaceful ambience. The park was one of few areas in Hell that looked like it was from Earth.

 

Perhaps that was why memories of being outdoors in New Orleans suddenly came rushing back to Alastor. The light from the lamps became the spotlights that lit up the cobblestone streets of the town. The glow of the fireflies brought back moonlit nights near the bayou swamps. The trees provided the seclusion that came with the quiet moments in the woods where Alastor was free to hunt and explore. Alastor examined a firefly in fascination as it flew past. He was almost tempted to run around and catch some, like he used to way back when.

 

The rosebushes were everywhere in the park as well. Seeing the groups of red and pink blossoms brought back innocent thoughts of his loved ones. There was Mimzy, who would laugh musically as rose petals were tossed toward her after a great singing performance. There was his associate and friend, Rosie, named after the flower itself.

 

And his mother, Antoinette as well. She had loved flowers of many kinds, especially red ones.

 

“Blossom like the beautiful rose,” she had said, “But don’t be afraid to use your thorns.”

 

The park seemed like paradise, an oasis in the fiery inferno environment. Alastor decided that now was a good time to stop and smell the roses…in many senses.

 

After inhaling the sweet scent of the flowers, he spotted a vibrant one in the light. He plucked it from the bush and smiled genuinely. At once, the rose wilted and shriveled up in his hand.

 

Was life just one big joke? Was Alastor cursed to kill every living thing he touched like an alternate Midas? It appeared that even the plants feared being in his presence.

 

As much as Alastor enjoyed taking away the lives of others, he was content on letting those he deemed innocent live. Other than hunting animals for food and sport, he saw no real reason to harm plants that never got in his way. They were as good as…well, wallflowers in the background.

 

Alastor tossed the dried flower aside. If plants could also bend to his will, then so be it.

 

Alastor glanced over and spotted two cowardly looking demons nearby. One was a red cyclops with large horns and a dark button shirt with teal flames on the end. The other demon looked like a green lizard, wearing sunglasses, a hat and a blue and white pinstriped suit.

 

Alastor grinned and held up his hand.

 

“Hel…”

 

“Nope!” called the demons as they dashed away…

 

“…lo.”

 

Alastor scoffed. Would it not be courteous to answer back instead of running away? Although Alastor liked it when people feared him, he had to admit that in that moment, he was feeling a bit lonely.

 

Life could get so boring when one lives in solitude.

 

Alastor wanted others to not only fear him, but to also show him respect and common decency. He wasn’t a heartless monster all the time…the rumors and stories about his acts didn’t cover how he felt during the times when he wasn’t killing others.

 

Alastor sighed and continued on his way.

 

 

Twirling his red hat with a finger (the hat having holes for his ears), Alastor continued his stroll down the street. In the distance, an upside down church steeple marked a Satanic place of worship. An old fashioned motor vehicle rested on the curb, its headlights glowing. Alastor was pleased that there were some demons around who were familiar with the time period he had grown up in. Sadly, they were few and far between, compared to the endless population of sinners from every corner of world history.

 

To Alastor’s left was a shop with a circus stripped awning and a sign next to it that read, “Now entering Cannibal Colony,” in fancy bold print. This was the more cultured portion of Hell, where the well-off enjoyed their leisurely lives. The sound of chomping and giggles came from around a corner.

 

Alastor hummed and grinned as he came across a gruesome sight.

 

Four well-dressed Victorian style women were on their knees, surrounding a body of a horned purple demon wearing jeans. Thick red blood coated their faces and outfits as they feasted on the corpse. The first woman had pale skin, white curly hair and black eyes. She was holding a slab of meat in her hands. The second woman was heavyset with short blonde hair, thick lashes and a frilly pink dress. She ripped the dead demon’s arm off. The third woman was a cyclops with red curly hair and two pointed salmon colored horns. She wore a green dress and had a pointed tail. The last woman had fluffy gray hair and wore a tight brown dress and a matching hat with a large rose on it.

 

The woman heard the sound of Alastor’s signature tapping. They burst into hushed giggles and whispers.

 

“Oh is that him?”

 

“Oh my, he’s quite the charmer!”

 

“Does this blood stain look bad on my dress?”

 

“Hush, here he comes!”

 

Alastor came into view, and tipped his red hat to them.

 

“Good morning, ladies!”

 

“Morning Alastor!” they chimed brightly. Alastor could see the hearts in their eyes. The fat blonde woman waved to Alastor, using the severed demon’s arm. Alastor chuckled at the display.

 

“Violet, Daisy, Lily, Peony,” he greeted to each in turn. “How did you catch this one?”

 

They grinned at the dead demon’s exposed ribs. “We caught him trying to shoplift Rosie’s emporium,” Violet explained.

 

“Thankfully, we were there to stop him from getting any further,” added Peony. “Young people just don’t have class these days.”

 

“Agreed,” Daisy said. “But that doesn’t make him any less tastier.”

 

“So many tasty men around. I’d go for any one in front of me,” Lily sighed happily, earning her an elbow jab from Peony.

 

“How is Rosie these days?” Alastor asked.

 

“Business as usual,” said Violet. “When she’s not leading the cannibal colony, she works her employees to second death on sewing dresses and hats.”

 

“Using their wages for her luxurious lifestyle, as any CEO in Hell would do,” Daisy mentioned.

 

“How splendid!” Alastor exclaimed. “And being an overlord on top of that. She must be pretty busy.”

 

“Not all the time,” Peony said. “I’m sure she would be up for tea and a violin session in a few days.”

 

 “We are having a get together soon, if you’d like to join us,” said Lily. “You could stay here for the meal.” Then she muttered out loud, “Oh, please say yes, please say yes…”

 

Alastor chuckled again. “I’d love to come along with Rosie sometime. But for now, I must get going with my walk.”

 

Alastor turned around, his back to them. “Give Rosie a hello from me!”

 

He tossed his red hat toward the women like it was a bouquet. Peony, the woman with the hat, caught the blood-stained hat in her hands with a stunned look. She closed her eyes with a sigh, cradling the hat in her arms. The other women growled at her with jealousy.

 

A screeching cat fight began over the hat.

 

“It’s mine!”

 

“No it’s mine!”

 

“Give that back or I’ll tear you to shreds!”

 

The women were sprawled on the ground, fighting like the birds did over the food.

 

 

Alastor smiled contently. Life was entertaining indeed.

 

 

The sound of smooth jazz reached his ears as he continued on. A slender dark indigo cat had a long tail with neon stripes of teal and pink. Teal and pink also high-lighted his face from the sides. The cat was wearing a dark blue suit and was playing a saxophone that matched his fur color.

 

The melody was smooth, upbeat and comforting at the same time. It brought Alastor back to when he played in a jazz band back in New Orleans. Back when Louis Armstrong was his role model and when he dreamed of becoming a professional musician before his radio host job.

 

After listening for a while, Alastor flicked a coin into the cat’s black hat on the ground. It landed with a “tink” among the other cons inside.

 

The cat looked back at Alastor as he was leaving with a look of surprise and suspicion. He almost didn’t believe that it was the Radio Demon.

 

 

The brightness and static of flat screen TVs caught Alastor’s attention. He stood between a tall orange-red demon wearing a suit and a creature with a monocle and a green face shaped like a sea creature or Invader Zim.

 

Alastor grit his teeth when he saw Vox’s face appear on the TVs. The TV’s each played a different commercial, all of them featuring Vox.

 

Rock music blared from one screen, making Alastor’s ears flinch. Vox posed with a guitar with looming black speakers behind him. “Ukyrie Speaker 20” appeared at the top. “Better surround sound to go around!”

 

Another screen showed the logo of the three Vs, Vox, Valentino and Velvet. Alastor cringed and looked away as Valentino did scandalous poses in front of his porn studio. Vox smiled with a finger to his lips as “Vositek” appeared with a black musical note logo. “Download the music app on your Hell phone or computer.”

 

Vox also appeared with a hamburger in his hands…”grab your craving today.” He also appeared with a box of cereal surrounded by bright lights. “Voot Floop, get yours today, only $666!”

 

Alastor rolled his eyes at the outrageous price. He couldn’t believe that anyone would buy that junk.

 

“Really nothing good on these days, huh?” he asked the two demons. They took one look at him and ran for the hills.

 

Alastor sighed in frustration.

 

Static overtook all the screens as Vox stared down menacingly at his rival. His television head looked larger than life on the screen, his red eyes emitting a demonic light. He wore his usual black suit with blue vertical stripes and large red bowtie. A Wi-Fi symbol was shown on his chest and a teal one on his small black top hat.

 

 

“Alastor,” he cooed with a shark-like grin.

 

“Vox.” Alastor replied with a grin of his own. The two titans stared each other down for a few moments.

 

“How’s my old deer pal of mine? Made it through Open Season again?”

 

“Why I’m wasting my time talking to two screens, I’ll never know,” he replied.

 

“Oh, you afraid of TV, and every modern piece of technology?” Vox smirked. “And here I thought you were the most fearsome demon in Hell.”

 

“I highly distaste tech, almost as much as your face.”

 

“Ok boomer, no need to get your antlers in a twist.” He let out a robotic chuckle. “Just so you know, radio will nearly be dead here just like it is on Earth.”

 

“Balderdash! Radio still exists in both places! I still have my loyal listeners.”

 

“Ha! You and your group of oldies will be drowned by the lights of my media. Everyone tunes into television and social media now. Get with the times and you might even stand a chance.”

 

Alastor scoffed. “I can stand a chance on my own…I don’t need fancy moving pictures to do so.”

 

Vox let out a sinister laugh. “Oh Al, you always were such a lonely pathetic soul. All bark and no bite, am I right? Hahaha!” Alastor’s pupils shrank as Vox continued. “How does it feel to know that I helped steal radio from you and the public? Your career, your very livelihood, gone just like that.” He snapped his fingers as electricity crackled.

 

Alastor couldn’t deny that it hurt. His eye twitched, even as he kept his smile plastered on his face.

 

“Even you stand here today, watching the very thing and person you so despise. What a bitch. Your old-timey world is gone. Unplugged. Dark magic won’t stop my online utopia. I will be the leader of a new world…and you’ll stare wide eyed as I zap everything you’ve ever known into nonexistence.”

 

A long pause.

 

Alasor scoffed and tuned on his heels. “Show off. All hat and no cattle.” Even as he left, Vox still smirked at him through the TVs.

 

 

Surprisingly, for the first time in decades, Alastor swore under his breath. Vox had made his usual gentlemanly demeanor vanish. He hated that man so much. He not only used technology Alastor didn’t like, he was also racist, sexist and was more than willing to brainwash anyone who looked at him.

 

“Obnoxious…pompous…piece of shit television…fucking egotistical waddle of gumerized, cross overrated, dumb annoying cultish bastard…”

 

He was muttering nonsensical words that he didn’t even know existed in his head.

 

 

 

His swearing and stomping ceased when he spotted something in a nearby villa-roofed store, an eye looking down from the wall.

 

A brown butcher boar wearing a blood-stained white outfit was growling at a dark demon, who was stepping back, hands in front of him. The boar wore a green blood-stained apron and was holding a knife. The boar grabbed hold of the demon’s throat before Alastor swung open the door. Both demons froze in place when they saw him.

 

“Good day, sir!” Alastor greeted to the boar. The boar dropped the demon as he fell to the ground with an “Oof!”

 

Blood smeared the counter and a clever lay on it. The counter had a border of black and pink checkered squares. Hanging on chained hooks above were tons of fresh meat and what looked like a saggy head of an animal. Meats were on display from behind the glass: venison, sirloin, steak, sausage, ham, turkey, pork, chicken, human and demon. Yes, many demons were cannibals like Alastor and the unlucky ones got to be part of the produce.

 

Alastor walked over to the boar. “I caught sight of your sign out front, and I make it my business to try out every new meat shop that appears. You never know which one will end up being my favorite!”

 

Alastor leaned in. “Do you have any fresh venison? I do love a nice top sirloin, but am partial to venison myself!”

 

The boar narrowed his eyes at his customer. “As am I…” the boar thought.

 

“Reminds me of simpler times,” Alastor mused as he wandered around to look at the selections. The boar glanced at the clever on the counter. It was just within reach. Perhaps he could boost his sales with new red deer meat. He inched his three clawed hoof toward it…

 

Slam!

 

Alastor’s hand landed hard in the space between the knife and his claw. His ears could pick up the smallest sounds and movements.

 

The boar’s eyes grew wide with fear as Alastor slowly leaned his body over the counter. With a sickening creak, Alastor tilted his head to the side as dark antlers began to sprout outwards. His wide eyes were now black with red moving radio dials.

 

“And we all love to return to simpler times, do we not?”

 

Alastor’s voice became low and harsh, laced with biting static.

 

“Y-yes sir,” stuttered the boar, sweat beading his furry face. “I, uh, I have some nice cuts…I can get for you!”

 

Alastor’s eyes returned to their normal red as the boar hurried off to fetch some meat.

 

“Good man!” Alastor said, with a swing of his arm and a fist. The boar put on white gloves and chopped up a slab of sirloin.

 

“Make sure you get all of that silver skin trimmed off,” Alastor called. “I want fresh meat, not bubble gum!”

 

With his bloodstained gloves, the boar put the meat into a white sack and wrapped it up in a bundle. With a shaking arm, he handed it to Alastor.

 

“Thank you kindly, my good sir!” Alastor called, taking the sack.

 

Alastor opened the door and held it open as a new visitor arrived. It was a little white sheep with fluffy white hair, a fluffy white tail, beady black eyes and a thick blue sweater.

 

“Oh! Pardon me!” Alastor greeted politely as he courteously held the door open. Dolly Bo Peep, the sheep, smiled in thanks. The boar grinned sinisterly as she approached.

 

If he couldn’t have deer meat to sell, than lamb would do just fine.

 

Alastor was just about to leave when he heard yells from inside. He pressed his hand against the window and froze.

 

“Come here, bitch!” came the roar of the boar.

 

“What…” the sheep squeaked. Her squeaks turned to shrilled screams. “Hey! Stop! Let go of me!”

 

The fights never did end in Hell.

 

For some reason, her voice soon made him freeze. A sharp wrenching feeling flooded his gut. The sheep screamed again.

 

“Get off of me you…Help! Help!”

 

Alastor’s eyes widened.

 

 

Suddenly he was a medium brown skinned little boy at a house, with brown eyes and short brown hair.

 

“Help! Let me go!”

 

Alastor raced up the stairs to find an African American woman backed into a corner. A towering pale man stood over her with a growl on his face, wearing a light blue shirt, dark pants and suspenders. His breath smelled of alcohol and smoke.

 

“I asked you multiple times to keep that bastard of a boy in line. I ordered you to have my dinner hot and ready when I came back from work. And what did I find?”

 

A white hand slapped the woman’s brown face, hard. “You and Al performing a Satanic ritual in the basement!”

 

“It wasn’t for ya to see!” she protested. “I’m only doin’ what is best for our son.”

 

“Our son? He’s a mixed spawn of the devil! He ain’t strong or tough or proper like a real man should be. And you’re a bad influence, exposing him with your sewing, and women’s work.”

 

He gripped onto her wrist and she cried out.

 

“Mama!” called Alastor.

 

“Stay outta this, boy!” Armand spat at him as Antoinette stared at Alastor with desperate eyes. “If you don’t want another lashin’ than I suggest you leave.”

 

“You’re the one who should leave!” growled Antoinette. “All you do is sleep with other dames behind my back and blame me and Al for every little mistake!”

 

“Alastor was born a mistake…the whole of society knows that. I’m only doing this to help bring things back into order. Like God demands!”

 

“You may think our son and I are sins, but your inflated ego blinds you…”

 

“Shut up, negro whore!”

 

More punches and hits followed, as young Alastor begged his father to stop.

 

With thick unrelenting hands, Armand stripped off Antoinette’s flowered red dress. “I’m the head of this house. You and Alastor will learn your places…”

 

He unzipped his pants.

 

“Even if it means stealing the rest of your dignity…”

 

The two of them appeared frozen against blackness, only this time, his mother was a red doe and his father…a gray dog holding a black stag head in his paws.

 

Poena and Neleus.

 

Flashes appeared in snip-its…Alastor being molested and pinned down by his father’s hands…Antoinette being stressed at work…shooting his father square in the chest…Mardi Gras and jambalaya…playing the trumpet and saxophone on stage… being a radio host and performing his first murder…his mother’s death…dancing with Mmzy and sharing a kiss…making deals with the Loa and Furfur…Mimzy’s lifeless body in front of him…the teeth of police and hunting dogs deep in his skin and a bullet flying through his head…

 

Alastor stomped back into the store, and saw the boar choking the sheep. The sheep’s eyes were red in fright and she struggled to free herself from his grip. Alastor’s antlers inched longer, his hands more curved and wide. His teeth grew sharper, his voice dropped lower.

 

“You know, I do really hate those who can’t show a little more respect to those of fairer means. It’s rather distasteful…”

 

The man in front of the boar wasn’t a man…

 

He was a towering wendigo…a demon in his full form.

 

Alastor said the next words in low demonic static…

 

“…like bad meat!”

 

His black antlers were arched out past his head and his face…was the face of nightmares. Yellow rows of fangs opened wide and his eyes were empty like black holes. Black liquid trailed down from his eyes and mouth along his face.

 

It was at this point… that the boar knew he fucked up.

 

 

“Aaaaaaaaaa!”

 

 

 

The boar’s screams were meshed with the sounds of ripping and tearing. The walls and floor were soon coated in blood. Alastor tore open the boar, who soon stopped struggling. The boar’s warm heart was chewed up in Alastor’s mouth, his primal hunger fueling him further. One of the boar’s claws fell off and landed on the floor with a slop. The sheep lady sat against the wall, crying and shaking at the gruesome sight before her. She wasn’t going to sleep well tonight.

 

Soon, enough, Alastor was full and back in his regular form. The bastard boar had deserved his fate. Alastor’s good deed was rewarded with a free fresh meal. Alastor picked up the slabs of meat and put them in the bloodied sack. Only the boar’s several head and tucks were left, along with his discarded clothing. Alasor strolled out the door and held a piece of flesh in his hand. “Not quite as tasty as venison. But it’ll do.” He popped it into his mouth and continued on.

 

 

Sometime later, the sheep lady inched her way out the door, still traumatized. She arrived to a spot in the park and stopped to catch her breath. She pulled out an old Bible and recited a prayer. A holographic image of two sheep in Heaven appeared, one of them with angel wings, a halo and a white-blue suit.

 

“Collin? My brother?” said the sheep lady to the cherub.

 

“What’s going on?” Collin asked his fallen sheep sister.

 

“You’re not gonna believe what I just witnessed…”

 

 

To be continued…