His Friend On The Otherside

Here's the links to my other blogs if anyone is interested in similar content focused on the different Hazbin Hotel characters listed below:

“Where were you?” A similarly built women sits petitely in her favored arm chair. Arms crossed and eyes narrowed disapprovingly. She lets the silence speak for her as she watches her dear friend skirm underneath her gaze.

Like always Alastor manages to micromanage his expression, keeping up his smile while his eyebrows adopt a concerned tilt to them. “Why Helen, what could you possibly be doing up at this ungodly hour. I simply must insist you go to bed.” He clicks his tongue in admonishment as if he had any ground to stand on.

“Funny. Seeing as you have work in about” Her eyes flicker over to the clock, moving far too quickly to actually read it. She had already been staring at it for the past few hours, willing it to tick faster while she waited for his return.

“Oh three hours give or take.” With a look of a women on a mission, she rouses from her seat, stalking towards her housemate like the devil himself.

Alastor for his part stands still, his mind racing for an excuse she would find acceptable. Already knowing there was none. He has always admired her wit but now it was putting him in a rather difficult spot. At the last minute, he attempts to rebuild the distance between them only for her hand to snatch his wrist.

The sudden movement almost causes him to lash out on reflex, but at the last moment he aborts the action, freezing up instead like a deer caught in the headlights.

His mama had raised a gentlemen.

“Alastor. Look at me.” Her voice- surprisingly gentle- startles him out of whatever trance he was in. When he first comes back to his senses, he realizes his hands were shaking. He can’t seem to stop them.

The second thing he notices is how Helen is gripping his hands tightly. There was no possible way she didn’t feel the remaining tackiness from the leftover blood now. Why she hadn’t already ran off to the fuzz was beyond him.

Once again Helen’s voice cuts through his thoughts. This time sounding a bit more strained. “Is this your blood?”

He doesn’t bother to ask her for clarification already knowing what she was referring to. His response nearly automatic. “No.” Later on he would vehemently deny how meek he sounded.

“Good.” A simple one word answer had never sounded more sweet yet he found himself reeling from it all the same.

His brows scrunching up as his smile dims in his befuddlement. “Good? Aren’t you going to ask who it belongs to?” He didn’t actually want her to, but none of the scenarios running through his head lined up with what was happening now.

Helen for her part opened her mouth, but asked a different question entirely. Completely throwing off the script. “Did they deserve it?”

He wasn’t used to being the one left speechless but in that moment he could only utter, “Yes.” The part of him that wasn’t still reeling from this sudden turn of events, fully invested in seeing where this was going.

She nodded as if this was all just a socially acceptable conversation and they weren’t discussing murder. “Did anyone see you?”

“No.” He once again answers without hesitation.

“And did you take care of the evidence?” She added a tad bit more urgent, looking fully ready to hide the body of Alastor’s latest kill.

“Yes.” He would never be so sloppy.

For once she forgoes etiquette and shrugs unladylike. “Then, I don’t care. Go get cleaned and I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee.”

His legs moved without him noticing with him trailing up the stairs before Helen called out to him softly as if her voice was whispered by the shadows scaling up the walls and wasn’t projected from her own vocal cords. “Oh and Alastor…”

He stilled, waiting for her to continue. Expecting her to finally have come to her senses and tell him to get out.

The house was under his name, but he would leave if that’s what she wanted. It would be far more ideal then having her report him.

“We’re going tk have to discuss this if it’s going to become a habit.” Yet again her words surprise him, keeping him on his toes. Although he was sure he would grow fond of these instances if he was given the chance to.

“Of course, dear.”

Forgive me father for I have grinned

( and then Alastor left for another seven years )

It’s raining and I see your battered bleeding body lying in the mud and I kick it slightly to see if you’re dead.

TW// depictions of violence, maybe creepy imagery? it wasn't that graphic tbh

Haunting laughter echoes off the walls of the alleyway. The single laugh distorting into many and slowly transforming into the screams of many others. Coming from every direction and yet there was no one in sight. Only screams to cage in the cowering overlord as the shadows grow heavier. They seem to claw and bite at her. Keeping her in place while a figure watches her from beyond the veil. 

Silently, observing their prey while a wicked grin slowly splits open their maw until their shadowed jaw detaches completely, showing off an endless void with millions of tiny, sharp teeth lining it. Perfect for swallowing sinners whole. 

Their nonexistent stomach rumbles and growls at the thought of such easy prey. An overlord she might be, but she was still far from the toughest that they’ve hunted. Reduced to nothing but mere prey when faced with an apex predator. 

She never stood a chance. 

From the start, they had orchestrated this whole cat and mouse game. Allowing her to run and fight only to further her entertainment value, but they grew weary with this game. She trapped herself in a corner with no escape, and yet she still looked for a way out.

“silly little mouse. you only made yourself tired.” They spoke, projecting their voice to echo around her in the dome of shadows she was locked in. 

It was amusing to watch her look for them, only to find no one there. Even now she held hope, she would escape. It only made them hungrier.

Without warning, the shadows crashed into her like a pack of hungry dogs, tearing at her but not quite killing her. The killing blow would be reserved for them alone, but for now her screams filled a different hunger within them.

They listened to her until her throat became raw, her shouts of terror turning into pained wheezes. It was only when they couldn’t see any more hope shining in her eyes that they descended upon her. 

Dismissing the shadows to the far corner of the alley to get a better look at her. Her skin was torn, crudely split open like a meat suit, and yet even now her body was desperately trying to mend itself. Try as it might, it couldn’t regenerate fast enough. She wouldn’t ever be able to reform into her former glory. Instead, she’d be destined to stay in this state of painful regeneration for the rest of eternity or until an exterminator’s spear rammed through her.

What a pity.

They cooed at her as she whimpered and moaned. Shushing her as they loomed over her. Maw still wide open. A bit of drool even sliding down their elongated snout to dribble down onto her face.

“hush now it’ll be over soon”

She only continued to stare up at the being with glazed over, terror filled eyes. They chuckled, dipping down letting their tongue lazily roll out of its parted jaw. The long black appendage raking over her face, collecting up the blood there. Consuming it like the finest red wine as they purred. Deceptively soft and yet each lick still hurt as it scraped past tender muscles and nerves.

The feast was slow. With them taking time to tear into any wound threatening to close. Coaxing even more delicious nectar from it. They drinked their fill and then some. All the while, the sinner beneath them could do nothing but pray to the god that had already abandoned her for mercy.

Their tongue slowly detracted, vanishing in the depths of the endless void it had come from. Without moving their mouth, they sighed out “soon you will hurt no longer” 

They sounded put out by the mere thought, and yet it lowered its gaping maw until her head was completely encompassed in it. They hovered there for several grueling moments before snapping shut.

A sickening crunch fills the night air as the sinner's skull completely collapses against the pressure. From there it only takes mere moments for her body to be consumed. No traces of her left except maybe for the sounds of her screams that would be played later on the radio.

A job well done.

They wasted no time zipping halfway across Pentagram City before slipping through the cracks of the radio tower’s trapdoor.

“Oh good your back. I made you a cup of coffee.” Alastor greets them without even turning away from his switchboard.

get up

Already spying his shadow’s petulant expression from the corner of his eye, he knows they’re expecting him to ask the same question he's been asking them for the past week, but he’s in no mood to receive the same evasive answer in return. 

So, instead he refuses his roles and continues to hum an old tune he once heard during his heyday while fixing up himself an early dinner. Usually he preferred his meals to be more raw, but tonight he was in the mood for some comfort food, and what could possibly be more comforting than his own mother’s jambalaya recipe! Why to think of anything else would simply be blasphemous. His mother’s cooking was to die for, and a sinner did indeed die for it! 

He lets out a chuckle at his joke, and almost tells it to his shadow out of habit, but remembers their current staring problem and decides against it. They didn’t deserve to hear his phenomenal humor if they weren’t even going to use their words with him in the first place.

He stubbornly returns to humming. Although the static filter overlaying his voice, flickers with interference even more now, and continues to build up the longer his shadow simply stares at him. 

He was used to staring. However, he wasn’t used to the one staring at him being his own shadow. Not without them at least saying something or making some type of noise. It was starting to grate on his nerves more than he cared to admit.

“i don’t like him.” 

The sudden hiss gives Alastor pause before he slowly resumes stirring the pot.

Letting out a soft hum of feedback. “Don’t like who?” He had an inkling of who they were talking about, but after being forced to endure them dancing around the subject for a whole entire week, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit petty. Sue him.

“you know who” they growl out this time, having caught onto his game.

He only vaguely smiles at that, feeling as threatened as he would if faced with an angry kitten. “How could I possibly know when you refuse to tell me. Now use your words, darling.”

The harsh cry of a radio interference rings out before exploding into a fit of animalistic hisses. His shadow unafraid to show off their outrage and displeasure, but slowly and surely- just as he was counting on- the hisses turn into a singular screech. “that blasted noisy picture box!”

His eyes widened in surprise by the sheer animosity that one screeched held . He was pleased to finally have his suspicions confirmed, but he couldn’t say he was sure as to why they seemed so worked up over his newest acquaintance, Box. 

Sure he was a rather peculiar fella. What with his head being a picture box as his shadow pointed out, but Alastor and thus his shadow could easily squash him. He didn’t pose a threat and likely never would, not with Alastor keeping a close eye on him.

"Oh dear, what could Box have possibly done to get you in such a tizzy." His words were meant to placate, but the shadows around him only grew darker. An indicator of his shadow's mood was merely worsening.

They fume in anger before projecting their image up on the entire wall in front of him. Expanding their form to come off as more threatening.

He could tell they were dangerously close to trashing his bedroom and that simply wouldn't do.

"his name is vox!" They fume out, the shadows farther away from them beginning to whip around in tendrils that possessed a smoke-like quality.

Thinking quickly, Alastor forces himself to appear nonchalant with his arms crossed behind his back. Staff carefully grasped in his right hand should he need to use it. "Is it now?"

For a split second, he watches his shadow carefully. His words seem to throw them off. He's unsure whether that's a good thing but carries on. "Hmm well you can hardly blame me. The most rememorable thing about him is his head."

The darkness slowly recedes from the room, his shadow holding a perplexed expression. "do you not like him?"

Now it's his turn to look perplexed, blinking slowly. "Well I like him enough to not eat him. He can be very amusing." Skilled at bending the truth as he may be, he answered their question honestly. Curious to see where this whole conversation was leading.

"so you like me more?" they slowly ask before quickly tacking on. "i'm more entertaining than him, aren't i?" They inch closer as their form is reduced to the same height as his once more.

Sensing the danger has passed, Alastor relaxes enough to let out a genuine laugh. "Why of course mon rire. No one could ever come close" He can't help but look at them oddly, unsure where all this was coming from now or what this all had to do with Vox. Perhaps a visit to Rosie was due.

In the midst of his musing, his shadow deflates completely from his previous posturing and instead wraps around Alastor like an excitable puppy. Purring pleasantly as his form twists and turns over every curve and angle that makes up Alastor making cooking rather difficult.

Alastor for his part resigns himself to the embrace momentarily. Patting his shadow on his back. "If that's all you needed. We could have had this whole thing taken care of ages ago."

“My, my, is that your way of saying you missed me, dearest?” Lips ever stretched into a menacing grin move with mocking intent as a way to derail the conversation. To Alastor’s displeasure his shadow doesn’t rise to the bait.

Instead, returning his taunt with earnestness. “of course i missed you. you went somewhere i could not follow.” His shadow twists and turns around Alastor effectively enveloping his whole form in darkness. “don’t do it again.”

They don’t push the topic any further, and Alastor seems to relax in the embrace despite his usual avoidance for physical contact. Especially if he wasn’t the one to initiate it.

Although it had always been different between them. Even now while they were doing the equivalent of hugging, Alastor didn’t actually feel constrained. He could step away at any point and face no objections.

Besides the touch felt more metaphysical than physical. Something his senses perceived but it wasn’t actually there. If he thought long enough he could reason that he wasn’t being touched at all.

Yet he had no reason to because as much as he loathed to admit it, his shadow embrace felt secure instead of overwhelming. It didn’t cause his skin to itch and these past seven years he had missed the feeling.

Not that he would ever admit it.

He didn’t need to with the bond between them singing through compatible radio frequencies. Another thing he had missed in their absence.

“I’ll try not too, mon ombre.” He leaves it at that. His ears drawing back against his cranium preemptively but his shadow doesn’t push. He never did.

“good. lets cause some trouble, ma chaleur” he purrs, slowly uncoiling from the other demon albeit reluctantly. “to make up for lost time,” they add. A wickedness turning their smile into something more demonic.