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Perse and Hermes sittin in a tree ❤️

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Inspired by @Aollyz and @Devin_the_artist on Reddit

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Lil updated avatar ❤️

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{ 𓆩 x 𓆪 }

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in another life you would have been more than just a dream

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[brilyyy]

Romance (Alastor x Angel Dust) 3/3

Hello there! 👋

Sorry for the delay, this truly took longer to write than I anticipated and then life happened. Hopefully this is worth the wait for you, I really enjoyed writing it! Again, I'm sorry Angel, its not my fault Alastor is deranged, ily.

Thanks for your interest in my fic, please enjoy!

Story warnings - disturbing imagery, horror

Softly, as if floating across his cheek on a cool summer breeze, “Anthony….” The voice drifted in and out, far away, “Anthony wake up…” it faded.

A forgotten dream pulled Angel from the nothingness he’d been bathed in, a woman he didn’t know giggling and chiding him for sleeping, just a bit more he thought, his body numb to any request for movement. The voice giggled in his mind again, Angel’s eyes cracked open ever so slightly. Who was that? A soft voice, pulling at him from somewhere deep in his memories. He could feel the air around him was cold and damp, but still, and it was dark now from what he could see. He didn’t know if he was alone, but he couldn’t feel his body either so what did it matter? Each breath was fought for and ragged, a strained exhale his only reprieve from the pain. Angel closed his eyes again, he was already so tired from keeping them open as long as he had… Even if there was someone there, he didn’t have the strength to go to them, or fight them off if they wanted to hurt him.

“Anthonyyyy, come on, we’re going to be late silly!” The voice pulled at him again. It was familiar, but he couldn’t place it… eyes closed he began to drift back to the black unconsciousness, it was warm there and he didn’t hurt. Just a little longer he thought as he began to drift back into the darkness, his choppy, pained breaths becoming further and further apart.

“ANTHONY!!” The voice screamed, and suddenly Angel knew exactly who it was, he’d always hated hearing her scream. Eyes snapping open he sat up as quickly as he could, his body aching, a sharp pain in his chest stabbing with every breath he took, head spinning from all of the abuse he’d endured. His eyes slipped in and out of focus, the dark only making it harder to see, the ringing in his ears dulled only by the pounding of his head. He sat up as best he could and looked around. Although he couldn’t see the creature that had chased him there, he knew it was still out there somewhere, but he needed to find her, that’s all he cared about now.

“M-Molly?” Angel croaked out weakly, he hadn’t said her name out loud in so many years, the word alone sent a flood of emotions rushing through his already scattered mind. He strained to hear a response. His eyes welled with tears, “MOLLY!!” He cried again, desperation in his scream, please, he thought, please let it be her, let this be real. Nothing, and then from behind him, “ANTHONY!!” Angel whipped around and stared at the figure at the edge of the willows cover, eyes straining to focus on the figure in the dark.

Angel squinted hard and suddenly gasped. It was her.

Molly was there, peering at him through the curtain of leaves eyes wide and glossy. 

His breath caught in his throat. 

She gasped softly as their eyes met, “It’s you!” She cheered, relief and joy flooding her face as she ran to him. Angel locked eyes with his sister, and for the moment he couldn’t breathe. Painfully he clambered to his feet and moved as quickly as he could to her, the aching fire shooting through his entire body be damned. He reached out for her expecting to touch nothing, for it all to be a sick illusion, but when her arms wrapped around his waist and held him tightly, he began to shake and sob, throwing his arms around her, eyes wide in bewilderment. “It’s really you!” She sobbed into his chest, her two sets of arms wrapped fully around Angel’s thin frame.

“Oh Anthony, I’ve been so scared! I thought something had happened to you! I couldn’t find you and -” Molly sobbed into his chest, her words muffled and hard to understand through her crying, but Angel was frozen. He could barely understand what was happening. It was her, she was here, in his arms. The thought was too much for him and his head spun, legs giving out he fell into her lithe frame, “Anthony!” Molly cried as they both fell to their knees, Angel’s head foggy, ears ringing. He couldn’t even process why or how she was here. She hugged Angel again while chattering about something and pulled away, now fussing over his cuts and scrapes but he couldn’t hear anything save for the ringing in his ears. 

“Molly?” He looked at her and stared into her glossy pink eyes, afraid to breathe, “Is this real? Are you… Are you real?” His voice was like a whisper, raspy and emotional. If this was a dream he didn’t want to scare himself awake with the question. 

She looked different than when he last saw her, obviously she didn’t look like a fluffy white spider before, but he knew it was her, he could feel it, they were twins after all. She’d always had the biggest, most expressive eyes, always able to find his real thoughts and feelings no matter how well he thought he’d hid them. She stared at him for a moment. Here in the forest, her doe like eyes were wide, searching his face, but then she smiled warmly and grabbed his hand, bringing it to her face and resting his palm to her cheek. Her eyes brimmed with tears, taking a shuddering breath, a tear dripped down her fuzzy cheek and she let out a small huff of a laugh, “Of course I’m real, don’t I feel real to you?” Angel felt her cheek, she was warm and soft, and here and real. She looked just as he remembered her, before she… Before he…

Another wave of emotion hit Angel and he gasped, his body shivered with remorse, tears rolled from his tired eyes down his stained and bloodied cheeks and he lunged at her, wrapping her fully in all six arms and pulling her tightly to him. 

“I’m so sorry Molly! I never shoulda left you! I-I,” he gasped “I shoulda never let you go alone, I should *hic* I shoulda left with you or made you stay I-, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” He sobbed into her hair, body wracked with sorrow and guilt. Losing her had destroyed him, the sadness sending him into a downward spiral he would never recover from “I should have never let you go alone, It’s all my fault, I’m so sorry Molly.” He pressed his cheek hard against hers, holding her tight, desperate and unwilling to ever let her go again.

Molly’s eyes red with tears wrenched closed as she hugged Angel tighter and wept. “Oh Anthony, shhhh,” She cooed as she brushed through Angel’s hair with her fingers, rocking him back and forth while rubbing his back, “It wasn’t your fault,” She whispered as she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, “I’m here now, it’s okay, it’s okay.” 

They held each other and sobbed underneath the cover of the willow in the darkness, neither one willing to be the first to let go.

After a long while, both of them caught their breath and their cries turned to sniffles, slowly releasing their tight hold on the other. Angel took a pair of Molly’s hands in his, he never thought he would see her again, not after she had died. Turning her hand over in his, Angel found the scar on her left thumb from when he had fallen out of a tree and she had cut herself catching him before he fell to the ground. He’d been horsing around and lost his balance, but she had been there and cut her hand against the sharp tree bark as she held onto him, crying only because she was scared for her brother. The memory was so clear, but he scowled, I’ve always let her down… He shook his head and swallowed hard as he stared at her hands in his, “What are you doing here? You shouldn’ be here.”

“Pfft, I don’ even know where here is!” Molly chirped.

“No, but you shouldn’ be where I am,” Angel laughed wryly “You should be in the good place, not here.” 

Molly looked confused but just shrugged. “I was walkin home from the bar and cut through the woods. I ran into Richie, he was walkin me home… I don’t remember much after that, but after….” Molly trailed off, but Angel knew exactly what she was saying. He clenched his jaw, fist shaking in white knuckled rage, after Richie fuckin killed her. “I woke up and I was here. I’ve been lookin for you or someone, anyone,” She twisted her other pair of hands in her lap, picking at her fingers nervously and staring at the ground “I’ve been so lost and scared, and then there was this… thing….” She paused and Angel could feel her shaking through her hands. “You saw it?” He asked, Molly gasped and looked up at Angel “You saw it too? Oh Anthony it was awful! I’ve been running and trying to find my way out of here, but its so dark and nothing makes sense,” Angel pulled her into another fierce hug, she trembled in his arms but he held her tight. “It’s okay Molly, I’m never going to leave you again, okay?” I’m not going to be useless this time, he thought.

She pulled back and smiled sadly at him, wiping a tear from her eye, “Promise?”

Angel held her shoulders firmly with one set of hands and her face in his other “I promise Molly, I won’t let anything hurt you ever again.”

Molly beamed up at him through her tears, god it had been so long since he’d seen that smile. She always had the brightest smile, it never failed to cheer him up when he was down, and now it was like a salve on every wound he’d ever had. He studied her face and began to inspect the rest of her - she was just as ripped up and dirty as he was, though it looked like she had better luck keeping her face away from anything sharp, save for a single cut across her left cheek. He had no idea how she had gotten trapped down here but he was going to give his life if it meant getting her out of here. “Oh!” She gasped suddenly, “Here…” she turned around and dug through a bag that Angel just now noticed. After a moment she produced a water bottle, and unscrewing the top, handed it to Angel “Drink up, you look terrible.” He chuckled and grabbed the bottle “Thanks Molls, where would I be without you?”

“Pfft, here.” She waved a hand around her at the forest and cocked a smile at Angel. He smiled and laughed as she giggled, he’d missed this. Missed her. He stared at their hands and rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb. She covered her hand on top of his and smiled warmly, she reached out and ruffled his hair and he feigned annoyance, he’d missed that too.

Angel took another drink from the bottle when he heard something. It was faint, barely audible, but over the ringing in his ears he swore that he’d heard something from the forest… music? Angel lowered the bottle and looked around, then looked at Molly. She was sitting still, wide eyes locked into the distance where Angel had heard the noise, “Did you hear that?” She whispered. 

“You heard it too?” Angel strained to hear more, but it was too far away, he only caught a stray note here and there. The ringing in his ears made his head ache the more he strained to hear and he winced in pain. Molly nodded and stood up, eyes still locked on the tree line, “I’ve never heard it before….Maybe it’s someone who can help us!” She turned and looked at Angel, a hopeful cheer cutting through the dirt and exhaustion on her face. Angel stared at her for a minute then back at the place where the music was coming from. What if it was a trap? What if that creature was luring them out so that it could rip them apart? It had been right on top of him, screaming that it knew where he was, taunting that it could reach him at any time, the rancid cries ringing deafening in the air… 

“What if that thing is still out there?” He shivered, not wanting to push their luck. He knew they couldn’t stay but he didn’t trust the music, he couldn’t risk losing her again. Molly stood for a long while staring into the woods, then turned to Angel and grabbed his hand, pulling lightly to get his attention. His eyes quickly met hers, he hadn’t noticed he was trembling until she grabbed the sides of his arms and gave them a small but firm squeeze. She smiled kindly at him and his heart skipped a beat.

“We gotta try, right Anthony?” She looked at her brother, eyes soft but hopeful, the same look she used to give him when they were kids. He was always a worrier when it came to Molly and now this? It was his job to protect her so he always erred on the side of caution when she was concerned, but she was usually right when it came to making decisions, and Angel knew they couldn’t stay there forever. Locking eyes with her he smiled back and braced himself to stand, legs shaking like a newborn. Taking as deep a breath as he could, Molly pulled him up and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, snaking her arm around his waist to help support him. The stabbing pain in his chest worsened and he gasped, he was pretty sure he’d broken several ribs now, and at least two in different places were threateningly close to piercing his lungs, but he steadied himself against Molly’s small frame and resolved to ignore his body’s cries of anguish for as long as he could.

She looked at him with great concern, eyes searching his face again to see how she could help, but there was nothing she could do now and they both knew it. “Ready?” She chirped with genuine optimism, securing her bag over her free shoulder and smiling at him. Angel looked into her pink eyes and smiled back, his body was throbbing and even standing felt like torture, but as long as she was here, he would try, for her. “As I’ll ever be.”

Slowly they walked to the edge of the willow’s protection and Molly reached out with a free hand to part the curtain of leaves. She peaked out into the darkness and looked around. From what Angel could see it was pitch black, no longer the bright vaguely green sky, now just unnerving darkness surrounded them. It was dead silent, no chirping or hum of insects, no gentle coos of night time birds. Though it was unsettling, there was also no sign that the beast was still there, only gouges in the earth showing it had once been. Angel shivered at the memory of the creature, but resolved to be strong for her.

“I think we’re okay,” Molly spoke quietly, “but it’s so dark out…” her voice trailed off, she had always been afraid of the dark, and this was no normal dark. Angel squeezed her waist where he was holding for support and she turned to look at him. Smiling, he opened his mouth to speak, but the jazz drifting through the air caught both of their attention and he paused. It was still faint, but hearing it again renewed their resolve and Angel could feel Molly take a deep breath. Letting it out she turned to Angel with a small smile and nodded. Turning to the woods once more, she stepped out into the dark forest, Angel limping bravely by her side.

—

The pair ambled through the darkness and reminisced for what seemed like hours over what felt like miles of endless, uncaring forest. At some point, over the rivers of twisted roots and slick rocks begging to catch their feet, the trees had begun to space out, now larger, more gnarled and sinister looking than before. Instead of the more tightly packed evergreens reaching far above, they now walked among larger gaps in thick towering trees, trunks twisting and reaching at strange angles, wide arms overhead, long finger-like branches fanning against the sky. Thick branches held up draping curtains of wide canopy, vines falling from the large overhead supports that held up the scattering lacework of leaves. If there was any moon out tonight, you would have seen its light dappled through the intricate patterns of foliage, but now, it only served as a beautiful background to the dolls scattered hanging amongst the branches, watching over the two as they stumbled through the brush. 

Angel and Molly had been resting, braced against one of these trees for what felt like the hundredth time over the past few hours. The two had tripped over many twisted, vine like roots sprawled over the forest floor, the cover of heavy, bone chilling fog making them impossible to see and avoid. It was just as well, Angel had decided. Early in this new terrain he had tripped over a root and was sent tumbling to the ground, coughing violently as he fell. He had braced himself and caught his breath against the earth, but noticed a squirming, writhing tickle against his fingertips as he panted. Slowly opening his eyes, Angel had examined the fog and realized that underneath its smooth curls of drifting air, it looked like it was moving. 

A deep sickness had run through Angel and with a defeated tear in his eye he blew a small puff of air to clear the fog from his hands. He had wept pitifully, tears streaming down his face in endless sorrow and defeat when he saw that the ground he was resting on was a rug of millions of wriggling worms, millipedes, spiders and other endless bugs, climbing and scrambling over one another in a hurried, writhing mess of knots across the forest floor, all moving hurriedly away from the direction they were going. He sobbed in horror at the realization and sensation, Molly grasping at him to try and calm his cries of distress, when a sharp chirping of birds cut through the stillness of the sky. The sharp cries of the birds sounded metallic and eerie, fake and louder than ever before like a warning. Molly had dragged him to his feet, away from the writhing floor and held him close, whispering soothing things into his hair to calm him. She had held his face in a pair of hands and held his hands in her other and managed to calm him down with some deep breathing, but the horror of that moment made them both check their shoes and pants before they set back out again. 

He was now so disoriented from what was surely a concussion and the ringing in his ears was driving him more than a little insane. His body throbbed and ached so deeply, but they were making progress, the jazz was getting louder.

 Several times through their hours long trek he had slipped and twice had managed to pull Molly down with him as he fell. The second time he hit the ground he fell into a violent coughing spell. As he hacked into his fist, Angel could tell that he was coughing up blood. Though it was dark, he could feel the sticky wetness on his hand as he coughed and shuddered. Quickly he wiped his hand off as best he could before his sister could see. Molly immediately had given him the water bottle again and rubbed his back, offering soothing words to calm him. Angel shivered with the sickness he felt running up through his stomach, it was long since empty, but now beginning to fill with his own blood and it was making him sick. He could taste the metallic richness at the back of his throat and from the corners of his mouth, the constant coughing and swallowing was making him more nauseous as time went on. The idea almost caused him to retch, but he had to keep it together, and settled for another weakening coughing fit.

“Anthony…. Look!” Molly stilled her soothing ministrations and whispered, her voice so small with disbelief. Angel looked up, panting and squinting through the dark trees he saw what she was looking at - a light coming from a small cabin. A log house nestled in a small alcove surrounded by trees, distant, but not very far from where they were. The roof was a little slanted and the logs forming the walls were dark with age, but the windows glowed with the promise of a fire and the jazz they had followed through the trees drifted warmly out of the window. Angel stared for a long moment then turned again to Molly, she had been putting on a brave face but he could tell how tired she was. She shivered in the cold air, and even if he was suspicious of the cabin, he knew she needed rest. He himself was in no condition to keep moving. He knew that it was only a matter of time before his injuries caught up with him, and he needed to make sure that she was at least safe before anything worse happened to him. At least here they would be safe from that thing, even if that house did give him the creeps. Still, everything, all of this felt off and scared him more than it brought comfort.

“Molly… I don’t know….” Angel started, but she cut him off “Come on Anthony, maybe they can help us! Besides, don’t you smell that?” She looked at him and then back to the cabin. Angel took as deep a breath as he could: food. He could smell food. Just the distant scent sent his mind reeling and his stomach growled deep and painfully, a cavern inside of him aching for something other than blood. He could feel his mouth watering at just the idea of eating, and he knew that if he felt this way, Molly felt it more, he had no idea how long she had been lost in the woods before he arrived or even how long he’d been here. Angel turned to his sister and looked deep into her pleading eyes, “Okay, we’ll check it out, but we leave if even one thing is weird, got it?” Molly smiled warmly at him and squeezed his hand, kissing his cheek, “got it!”

They managed down the slippery hill that the cabin was settled beneath, tucked between two towering trees at the end of a small clearing, set a bit away from the rest of the dense tree line. It was hard to see anything through the dark night and the dense fog, but Angel could see the light of a fire dancing through the windows. Like moths to a flame the pair stumbled closer, the jazz filling the air now, a gentle trumpet melody welcoming them, the smell of the food enticing them to push further. They crossed the small stream that ran near the front of the house, eyes glued to the refuge.

His eyes scanned the tree line surrounding them looking for the creature, but he couldn’t see anything, save for a nearby stump with an axe wedged into it. They passed near it as Molly quickly but cautiously pulled them to the porch that surrounded the perimeter of the house. He couldn’t see much of the axe, or what was left over on the ground behind the stump, but just the outline of something slumped against the black night sent a shiver down his spine. He turned back to the cabin and surrounding trees, scared to trust the warmth they sought. 

“Almost there,” Molly whispered, she helped him up the small steps onto the porch and after helping Angel find purchase on a nearby post, moved quietly to the door. The smell of the food was so distracting, he was terrified but the smell invaded his mind with the promise of warmth and comfort, sending what little moisture his body had left to flood his mouth in hunger. Angel swallowed and looked around, weary of how relatively easy this had all been. He leaned against the outmost post of the porch sand cast tired eyes to the forest, knowing something was watching them from out in the darkness.

A gentle breeze floated through the wind chimes hanging from the aged wood frame above his head. The wind chimes sounded cheerful yet off somehow, sickeningly hollow, and when angel looked at it he saw why. They were made up of small… animals bones? ribs mostly, and some pieces of differing leg and arm bones, strung together on twisted sinewy thread. The top of the chime was what looked like a fox or a coyote skull, with strange symbols carved into it. What caught his attention though were the strings, they were the same wiry, smooth threads he’d seen securing other unsettling decor around the forest. 

The strings he noted were different colors, a deep black, a black with highlights of brown, a bright orange, blonde… Angels stomach dropped and suddenly he felt nothing but deep dread and sickness. The fear made him instantly retch and shudder - this place wasn’t safe, they needed to leave. 

The sound of Molly knocking on the door ripped him from his thoughts and he jumped, eyes locked on the door as they both held their breath waiting for a response. Angel’s heart was beating in his ears, straining to hear through the ringing and the soft lilt of the music in the still air. He held his breath, begging to hear nothing. A long moment passed, the pair exchanged a glance. Angel reached out to stop her but she knocked again, gentle yet firm, “h-Hellooo?…” Molly squeaked, barely able to contain the shaking in her voice.

Angel limped quietly to her side, grabbing her hand in comfort and fear. They waited for what felt like an eternity, expecting to hear the scuffs of footsteps or creaking floor boards or to hear anything at all, but there was nothing, just the muffled jazz and the stillness of the air. Molly looked back at Angel, hopeful and questioning, but Angels face read nothing but doubt and fear. He shook his head gently pleading, tears pooling in his eyes for her not to open the door. She met his eyes with a worried yet determined stare. 

He whipped around and checked their backs, feeling the eyes of the forest crawling over him, sending a haunting shiver through his body. The forest remained black and unmoving, no life, no sound, save for the now mournful and sinisterly warm music ringing through the air from the nearby window. Angel panted and scanned again, his eye catching the stump from his periphery and - he stopped and snapped his entire head down - the axe was gone. His eyes rang in their sockets, hands deftly grabbing for Molly’s hand for comfort, unable to look away from the now clearly blood soaked stump, void of the axe he had seen before.

He turned to Molly to tell her they needed to go, but to his horror she was in the cabin, standing by the fire in the middle of the room, “Anthony come on!” She chided. “Molly no this place isn’t safe! We gotta go now!” Angel begged trying to be as quiet as possible, but she was already wandering in deeper towards the smell. Angel ambled to the doorway and peered in, “Molly!” He whispered sharply, but she was already poking around what looked to be the kitchen area at the back of the room. 

He huffed. Angel looked over his shoulder again into the darkness behind him and cracking the door only wide enough to squeeze through, he slipped into the house, closing the door silently behind him. He pushed his body against the door and anxiously looked around, horrified to find it was warm and charming inside. The jazz came from a gramophone, set on top of a small desk by the window to his left, cracked only a bit to let some of the cool night air in. The desk had a few letters scattered lightly over the smooth, worn dark wood. A small clear glass vase with some small blue flowers sat next to a black and white photo of a beautiful woman in an ornate gold frame, a drawing of the blooms sketched lightly on the corner of a nearby envelope. 

He stood pressed firmly to the door panting in fear, exploring the room with his eyes, straining for the threat he knew was hiding. He looked past the gramophone to find a large bookcase, filled and overflowing with books. Angel was in awe of just how many books there were, the wood of the shelves reaching to the top of the roof, bowing slightly under the weight of its many reads. The case was filled neatly with rich colors of spines, but for as many filled the shelf, there were still stacks of more littering the nearby floor. The volumes shared the floor spaces between the desk and the nearby leather chair with records and pressings of long since forgotten songs. A beautifully ornate red and blue rug with pops of bright emerald threads framed the space and gave it a warm and cozy feeling. It was clearly old but well taken care of, a bit faded and thread bare in some areas showing the habits of whoever lived here, a clear path between the books on the shelf, the desk, and the chair. 

Angel wearily and hungrily looked at the chair, his body pleading and begging for rest. It looked plush and comfortable, a high back and over stuffed arms, a deep purple knit blanket draped lazily over the arms and low back, a small pillow pressed with wear against the chairs right corner. Angel swallowed, sitting there he knew would feel like a warm embrace, one that would hold onto him and pull him under. The chair sat comfortably between the book shelf and the fireplace along the same wall, angled so that the warmth and light of the fire illuminated the chair entirely but not so far from the book case that one couldn’t grab for the lifeline of a book to save them from the promise of a cozy fireside nap. The fire crackled and sputtered lazily, offering a warming glow that sent a shiver through angel’s frozen and broken body. 

He pulled his eyes away from the spell of the fire and looked back to the promise of the chair. The piles of books sat on top and at the foot of a small side table. It was very petite, only space for a small lamp and an even smaller pile of books, the corners of which hung slightly over the edge of the table. There was also, he noticed, a small tea cup set a top a book, a pair of round gold framed reading glasses placed neatly beside the steaming cup and saucer. Angel squirmed in fear as his stomach clenched “Molly, maybe we should get out of here, what if they come back?” He was worried, no one was there now but it looked like they might be back soon.

“MMM! Oh Anthony look!” Angel looked over toward her voice and saw her standing at a large pot settled on top of a wood burning stove. There was a table between them where she had grabbed a ladle and holding the lid with one hand, she dipped the large spoon into the pot and took a sip of the steaming hot soup. She closed her eyes and let out a deep contented sigh, “You have to try this Anthony, it’s delicious!” Opening her eyes again she found Angel still standing at the front door, his arms both crossed and splayed out, holding himself tightly and bracing himself worriedly against the door. “Come on Molly, we can’t eat someone else’s food!” Angel pleaded, “besides, I think they’re gonna come back soon, we gotta get outta here, this place is beyond freakin me out,” but Molly scooped another ladle full of broth out and held it up for Angel to see.

“They’ll understand, I promise. Come on Anthony be reasonable, you need to eat somethin to gain back your strength!” She turned around and grabbed for a bowl from a nearby shelf. Turning back to the pot, she scooped a ladleful of broth into the bowl and held it out to Angel, “Come on, just a little, please….” She begged him with her eyes. 

Was she seriously out of her mind? Absolutely not! There was no way they were just going to wander into this random persons house and then steal their food. What if they came back and got pissed and cut them up into pieces like he’d seen hanging from the trees? The rich scent of the soup caught his nose again and sent his stomach tumbling into a deep gnawing pull of hunger. Angel stared again at the chair, and looked around the room to see more quaint touches, pictures on the wall of an older woman and a young man who Angel figured was her son, framed pieces of art, scatterings of playful taxidermy… He glanced at the bookcase again to see framed photos scattered among the shelves, another small bundle of blue flowers set lightly a top of the leather chair.

He did admit that it was nice and warm in here, and it would be good to regain their strength… As long as it wasn’t that huge creature that lived here, chances are they could outrun whoever lived here if they turned out to be hostile. Well, Molly could. I’ll give her a head start, he let out a small huff of a laugh, might as well die with a warm belly he thought.

Slowly, Cautiously, Angel limped across the room past the fireplace and the chair towards the kitchen using the wall as a crutch. He glanced up wearily at the wall to see black and white photos of people other than the old woman and her, admittedly, very handsome son. There was another photo of the woman from the desk, though this time she was singing on a stage surrounded by a crowd of cheering men. A large portrait of the older woman set in an ornate wood frame nestled between two complimentary paintings of rabbits and foxes dancing in pastel play clothes. He walked further along and saw a couple of old victorian photos, a beautiful young woman with bright white hair and dark eyes, so pale she almost looked grey. 

In one photo, she stared blankly into the camera while clutching a small white bundle, which Angel realized was a baby. Her face was soft with no expression, but she held the infant with care, gently but firmly for the camera to see. His eyes found another photo with the same woman, standing in the same beautiful gown. She now stood next to a handsome man in a black tuxedo, decorated with military badges and pins. He was seated, dressed in what Angel could tell were expensive clothes, with a top hat and bow tie. He had a large but meticulously maintained mustache and beard covering his face, no emotion showing on his handsome features. The woman stood beside him, barely resting her hand on his shoulder, her black eyes reflecting no light, her features statuesque. He shivered. Angel peered deeper into the photo and noticed that the mans eyes were closed. Confused, he looked back at the photo of the infant and realized the infants eyes were closed too. Confusion crossed his brow, but then he pulled away from the wall, his eyes welling up with tears - they were both dead. 

“Hurry Angel, quit stalling” Molly called sharply. Lip trembling, Angel quickly turned from the wall and grabbed for the table, shuffling quickly to where Molly was standing and clasped her hand in his. He stared at their hands for a moment, fear soaking deeper and deeper into his bones, the need to run away twitching in his legs. He squeezed her hand and took a deep breath, just keep it together a little longer, he thought, do it for her, she needs you, Anthony.

He looked up from their hands and into Molly’s eyes, her kindness and patience reflected in her pink orbs. “Here,” She said gently, putting the bowl down in front of him on the table and gently brushing his hair with her free hand. He stared at the bowl, the steam rising and dancing for him, offering its savory aromas and causing his resolve to tremble. Swallowing guiltily he looked up at Molly, “I don’t know Molls, really… I-I think we should jus go, please….”

With a huff, Molly grabbed the ladle and scooped a fresh spoonful of soup from the pot. She turned to Angel and held the steaming ladle full of broth in front of his face, her lips pressed in a determined line.

Angel swallowed deeply while staring deeply into Molly’s eyes. The smell of the fresh broth pulled his eyes down and he stared into the spoon she was holding out to him. The rich brown broth looked just as delicious as it smelled, and he could feel his mouth flood in hunger. He looked up again at Molly, pleading with his eyes, but knowing that she was right and he needed something to replenish his broken body, he leaned in and took a long, slow sip from the spoon. The warmth of the broth slipped past his lips and invaded his entire body, warming and scorching his frozen core as the liquid poured down his throat. He could feel it dispersing its healing warmth, instantly curing his pains and awakening his body into deep, raging craving for more.

His eyes opened and he stared at Molly again, she smiled at him knowingly, “It’s really good right?” She grinned. Angel smiled sheepishly, good was an understatement, more like incredible. Maybe they could finish their soup and then leave in a hurry. As if reading his mind (or just hearing his stomach), Molly grabbed the bowl from the table and adding a fresh ladleful of soup, handed the bowl back over to Angel. 

The young spider smiled weakly taking the bowl and looked warmly at Molly as she ladled more soup into a bowl of her own. The pull of hunger controlling his body now, he brought the bowl to his lips and let his eyes drift closed with comfort as he took another long slip. The meal felt like sunshine running through his body, reminding him of childhood, sitting at their small dinner table during cold winter nights and eating with his sister. The broth was delicious, rich and comforting with herbs and spices, his lips and mouth tingling with what he imagined was a pepper sauce. He tilted the bowl higher, draining the soup of its broth and only stopping when he felt an ingredient in the bowl bump against his lips.

His eyes drifting open in contentment, he lowered the bowl and sighed happily staring into the pottery in his hands. Having drunk so much of the liquid, he could now see the solids of the soup, some greens and onions, red pepper flakes, a potato, and…. Angel squinted. His eyes immediately shifted from innocent curiosity to cold horror, staring down blankly, body frozen. Mind broken, his hands forgot their task and Angel dropped his bowl, the glossy pottery shattering on the ground revealing the remaining contents of the soup - an ear, and two small toes. Angel stared at the floor, the ringing in his ears louder than the jazz filling the small space. He couldn’t breathe, the pounding of his heart ringing throughout his entire body. 

“It was people,” the words slipped out of Angel’s mouth, barely audible, eyes unblinking in shock. 

Saying it out loud, no matter how silent sent him reeling. Hearing it caused his body to retch deeply, the realization of what he’d eaten forcing him to spew the contents of his already weakened stomach on the ground. He doubled over, throwing up what little was in him, his sickness renewed with each glimpse of the broken bowl on the floor, the ear dangerously close to his left foot. “Mol-MMolly!” he weakly called between waves of retching, reaching out weakly for support, pulling at the bottom of his now empty stomach to force bile and saliva out of his burning throat. “Molly!” he called weakly, bracing himself on the table, he looked up to where she had been by the cooking pot, but a new dread filled his emptied stomach when he found she was gone.

Eyes wide in terror, he spun frantically, searching around the room for any sign of his sister, but in the instant it took for him to realize she was gone, the room had changed from a quaint little cottage, warm with the welcoming glow of the fire to exactly what he had feared. The small room was now lit a murderous red, dark and almost black in places, only brighter because of the barely controlled fire raging against the wall. The fire was white hot and green - the crackling of the lime flames dancing off of the edges of hundreds of razor sharp weapons mounted to the wall that was once lined with memorabilia. Where had just been photos and artworks moments before, now housed knives, chisels and blades, scythes and straight razors covering any free space between knots and holes in the broken panels of wood. Each instrument of suffering was polished to a mirror like shine, placed carefully and in an order, obviously well cared for. 

“MOLLY!” He cried out desperately, “WHERE ARE YOU??” 

The jazz from the front of the room blared through the gramophone's bell, the sound breaking in places and becoming more distorted and off key as the record played.The books on the shelf were gone and replaced with jars filled with body parts floating in shades of pink or blue liquid, hands, hearts, and a few heads floating lifeless in the jars. The once siren lounge chair now sat ominously, the leather of the chair clearly patched together with different pieces of differing colors of leather… different sizes and shapes… Angels eyes drifted in horror to the fire place, eyes shaking, climbing to find a small bundle of legs, and another larger bundle of arms hanging from the ceiling with different herbs to dry. 

Angel heaved in an open mouth sob, the once cozy lilt of the jazz now a raging upbeat tempo, squalling and crying out, trumpets and saxophones slicing through the mounting terror. The record player glowed with the same sickening green magic that the fire raged with, sending small sparks of fire drifting off into the air. They floated and danced on the distorted melodies around the room, alive with magic, charming despite the scene. He stared in awe and fear as one of the little fireflies buzzed up to his face, flying in an intricate spiral, and then landed on his cheek, singeing the hair on his face. He grabbed his cheek in pain and stared on in horror as the room filled with the lightning bugs, burning him with sharp pain as they lazily bumped into him. 

Suddenly, a loud, metallic screech ripped through the wailing of the jazz, the piercing cut of the scream sliced through Angel and stoked the deep fear writhing inside of him. Every hair standing on end, Angel turned around and locked teary wide, insanity filled eyes with the terrible, smoldering red of the creature. The room had changed again, the roof of the small cabin now much taller than it had been, allowing the smaller, but still massive demon to take up almost the entire cabin, its upsettingly thin and long legs crouching brokenly. Its giant white buck skull dripped black sap as it ran razor sharp black claws against a grinding stone now placed in front of the fire place. Long high pitched screams over powered the cries of the piano chords from the record player, the Wendigo twisted its long, broken neck towards Angel, bright red pupils boring into him from blackened sockets, the screaming and trumpets rioting in the air between them. 

Angel stared back trembling, screeches from the grinding stone echoing the ringing in his ears. Angel shook in defeat, whimpering in terror as he clutched his head with his hands. The strange birds. He knew they hadn’t sounded right, but now he knew the chirps and calls hadn’t been birds at all, it had been the grinding cry of knives and claws being sharpened all along. His knees gave out and he buckled into the table grabbing tight in fear, frozen in place, shaking and sobbing, eyes darting between the wall of blades and the creature, begging to find his sister.

 w̸̙̗͝h̸͙͋ǎ̸̡̋t̴̮̥̍̋'̴͔̑͜ś̷͇͈͠ ̷̠̉͘t̴̬̗̃ḩ̵̱̄͝e̵͓͒͘ ̸̖̝̌m̸̹͋̈́ã̷̢̝t̴̨̠̒̇t̵̲̼̿ĕ̶̞͗r̶̼̔̃

the creatures voice was a layered and distorted guttural growl, shaking the inside of Angels head. All at once his hair stood on end, his body erupting into gooseflesh. He hadn’t heard it from his ears, he heard it from inside of him, inside of his mind. The concept made Angel grab his head and cry out in fear, screaming as he could hear the monster laughing in his mind. Reaching a clawed hand forward, the creature leaned toward Angel, neck stretching, head turning at broken angles. Lumbering over him, the creature twisted its head, bringing the tip of its bleached skull inches away from Angels and stared deeply into his eyes. Angel took a deep shuddering breath and turned to look up at what he knew was watching from the forest all along. Angel stared into the bright white skull of the haunted creature, eyes burning red radio dials, mouth dripping with dead blood and chuckling out loud and in his thoughts. He knew it was him, Angel’s body wracked with a sob, it had been him the whole time. His body trembled in fear, too scared to be angry as the Wendigo hovered above him, titanic and horrifying, crawling with maggots and death.

a̷̢̗͓͗̉̓r̴̳̩̀͋ę̴̬̟̝͛̃̄̃̅̇̎͘ ̴̛̛̙͖̆̋y̸̦̹̖̝̖̣͛̀̾̉o̴̗̠̖̲̽̄͂̊̅͗̌ͅͅư̸͖̳͍̞͇̲̗̇̏́͂̑̑ ̴̢̞̟͕̦͚͐̏̀̂̄͝ͅs̶͚͕͒͂̃͒̚ć̸͖̺̙͌ḁ̶̢̼́̈͐̓̅̚r̶̡̢̳̣̫̪̈́̀͆͒̽̓ę̴̽̽͌̆d̴̡͕̮̺̠̋̈́̀͘͝?̵̨͙͚͔̼͇̟̥̽̃̈́̐̚

A dark rolling laughter rang out from a radio suddenly appearing on the mantle at the same time as it rang out in his mind. The creature in front of him let out a screaming bellow, a shaking rancid cry of sorrow deep from its core ringing out in the small cabin, the beast cackling in his mind as it sharpened its claws against the grinding stone. The screeching, now obvious cries of the claws against stone, reverberated through his entire being, his eyes wide, tears stinging his cheeks as they streamed down his face, jazz joyfully wailing in the air. Angel’s mind was beginning to break, the pounding of his heart keeping time with the horrid jazz. He needed to find Molly, they needed to go before it was too late.

“MOLLY!!” He screamed, the Wendigo shifted and screamed too, mocking Angel and laughing louder in his mind. He cried out for her again, stepping back from the kitchen table, wrapping his arms around his body, bracing his head with his other hands, clamping his red eyes shut tight. The creature screamed in delight, his gravely laughter ringing inside of Angel’s head while the radio cackled violently through its static. Eyes desperate and tired, he searched the kitchen for anything that could help him find Molly. His head swam with all of the different sounds and exhaustion, his mind blank with shock and fear, but determined to find her. 

He searched the kitchen, eyes finding a large jar nearby that hadn’t been there before. He wept as he saw it filled with hundreds of gold and silver rings. He stared brokenly at the jar, there were so many rings in it, it was almost full, wedding rings, so many people…. Shaking, he turned his head to the scene in front of him - where there had been nothing now there was a bloody cleaver and a human leg sitting on the table. Mind reeling with the discovery, the screams of the creature faded into the blaring of the jazz and static from the radio as he stared at the new setting before him, ears ringing loudly in his head, the audio of the room shaking his body. The leg had been cut into two pieces at the knee, a tattoo of a naked woman and a rose high on the thigh. There were scraps of carrot peel and onion ends, a few leafy stems, but Angel’s eyes drifted to a large blood spot in the middle of the cutting board. Angel gulped heavily and stared down at the cut of what he recognized as the leg calf. His eyes followed the limb and noticed the foot had been cut off at the ankle, and was no where to be seen Angel realized with a pitiful whimper.

“The foot is a wonderful ingredient for adding bold flavor without wasting prime cuts,” Alastor’s static voice cut through the terror and filled him with a new fear. 

“Tons of cartilage and fat for flavor,” a slow thumping came from in front of Angel, not as earth shaking as before, but it still filled him with the same dread. The sharp thumping of footsteps came closer, but he was too shaken to look up. 

“Some muscle, some marrow…” His cheerful tone drawled across the room and wrapped softly around the lively jazz. Angel’s eyes were locked on the blood stained cutting board, he shook in terror and rage, clenching his fists so tightly his hands began to bleed. Alastor’s foot steps stopped right in front of the table, and Angel glared down through tears in his eyes at how his boots were immaculate, perfectly shined to reflect the green fire’s raging glow. 

Alastor lunged forward with a black clawed hand and grabbed Angel by the throat, squeezing his fingertips into his neck and pulling Angel’s face to meet his snarl, “LIKE A HAM HOCK.” He growled excitedly through a grin, static distorting his voice, strained and unhinged. 

Angel was livid among other things. 

Shaking with rage and terror, the pale spider mustered his strength and looked into the demon’s face with pure rage but let out a shaking breath in dread when he actually saw it. Alastor’s features had been distorted and exaggerated, his shark teeth enlarged and razor sharp, dripping with fresh blood. Eyes bright red with burning green dials for pupils, his antlers loomed dangerously, black and jagged. Each bone ended in a sharp point, twisting and contorting around each other, sharp and dripping with acid green magic that burned. The demons crown was adorned with jewels - strings of limbs and cloth dolls, a macabre decoration that only served to make the Radio Demon more terrifying. 

His face however scared him the most - Angel could see bits of hay and dried grass peeking out between stitches on his face and neck, straw coming out from under his hair, a thread by his grin hanging loose. He looked like a doll, sewn together with bright acid green magic, coming undone, burlap skin hiding wriggling worms and beetles that squirmed beneath the surface. He could see the demons neck and limbs were longer and more twisted than normal, bent at impossible angles, Alastor’s body looming larger than usual. 

Panicking in his grasp, Angel’s eyes scrambled to see that he was much larger than usual, now taking up the same space as the creature before, Alastor’s legs twisted in a looming crouch, hands turning into large bleeding black claws. The titanic Radio Demon rest his free hand on the table that had separated them, cracking and breaking the wood beneath his weight. His suit was sharper and more ripped, bloody and gushing a black ooze from his pockets and collar that made the air smell rancid with stale blood and rotted meat. Angel could see bugs crawling from underneath his suit, running between his lapels and into his breast pocket, an unflinching smile plastered sharply on his burlap face. 

Alastor leaned in too close to Angel, the green glow of his eyes lighting the spiders features dramatically “So what did you think of my gumbo?” He grinned, manic laughter ringing from the radio and inside Angel's head. Alastor was holding the spider entirely in his razor sharp grasp, fingers like a cage of swords holding Angel back, cutting painfully into his flesh whenever the cackling demon tightened his grip “Delicious, don’t you think? I’ll give you the secret if you promise not to tell.”

Angel screwed his eyes shut and clenched his fists harder, “WHERE THE FUCK IS MOLLY??” Angel screamed, eyes set with determination,  “GIVE HER BACK!”

Alastor fell into a tumbling cackle of deep, gut wrenching laughs at the spiders boldness. With a final squeeze, Alastor tossed Angel to the corner of the room, his body slamming into the kitchen shelves against the wall, before falling limply to the floor. Angel cried out in pain when he landed, a fallen knife slicing cleanly into his side. He winced and grabbed the handle, pulling the blade from his gut as he whimpered, weakly checking to see the extent of the damage as the room spun with magic. Alastors laugh rang throughout the cabin, the angry jazz and echoes of the creatures screams in the air suffocating him. Stitched together in a grotesque smile, long since dead blood now dripping from the cracks of his fangs, Alastor’s burning red eyes with piercing green glowing dials twisted with delight, “My dear, whatever do you mean?” The demon taunted, mirror sharp knives for fingers grasping for him, ripping cleanly through any flesh it encountered, a renewed roll of manic laughter flooding from the radio.

Angel winced as the claws sliced cleanly through him, clutching his side, Angel screwed his eyes shut and screamed as loud as he could, “GIVE HER BACK ALASTOR!” The demon turned its hideous head at a sickening angle with a large bone snapping crunch, “Who?” The demon jeered, eyes smiling, truly enjoying their game.

“Ohhhhhh,” Alastor taunted as he cocked his head in the opposite direction, another nauseating deep crack of bone, “Her?”

As he spoke, his eyes glowed brighter and the room immediately began to burn with his putrid green magic. Instantly, the ground between them fell away into a deep, fiery pit, a white hot inferno licking the edges of the sinkhole, the eerie red of the room giving way to violent purple and blue. The newly formed chasm radiated with the sickly green glow, the flames of Alastors magic sending fireflies swarming out of the pit in the earth and pelting Angel with singeing burns as they attacked him. Symbols and spells of Alastors magic in bright green and fiery white spewed from the fires, spinning around the room and popping at random, sending painful bursts of flies at Angel like little bombs. Inky black tendrils of shadow covered the walls, shaped like hoards of raging demons, all laughing and cheering, claws begging for bloodshed and violence - the shadow behind Alastor the biggest and most blood thirsty of all, jagged mouth dripping in anticipation.

“ANTHONY!!” Mollys screams rang through the cabin, Angel snapped up to see her clutching tightly to a threadbare rope, hanging from one of the colossal Radio Demon’s deadly antlers. Angels eyes widened somehow further in terror as he watched Molly twisting helplessly, fighting to grab a more secure hold on the rope, dangling like the other dolls that littered his branches of antlers. Her own eyes were screwed shut in fear, crying and begging for rescue. Angel sobbed as she screamed and whimpered, clawing for purchase while Alastor laughed, swinging her wildly around the room as he laughed, dangling her over the dancing fires of the abyss. The large demon cackled violently as he swung her around, Alastor now a magenta and acid blue titan looming over Angel as he stared helplessly at his sister. 

Alastors burning eyes watched Angel’s face in delight, the spider desperate and frantic, scrambling weakly to try and find something to help his sister with, but there was nothing left in the room save for the four of them - Alastor, the twins and the chasm. The great demon shifted an eye over to Molly hanging from his antler and lifted a brow smiling wider, a terrible giggle coming from the static. Alastor reached up and held his dripping claws up to Molly, poking sharply at her side with his index finger and earning a pained squeak from the girl. Angel raged at the offense as Molly sobbed, swinging precariously from his antler, “STOP IT ALASTOR!!” Pupils shifting back to Angel, The Radio Demon splayed his fingers around Molly as she squirmed and dangled helplessly, the demon somehow smiling wider and more murderous. He flexed his clawed hands again and placed a razor sharp finger delicately against Molly’s rope.

“Oops!” Alastor quirked his shoulder with surprised delight, flexing his index and slicing the rope Molly gripped in a single swift motion. Eyes wide in terror, Molly grasped for anything and screamed, eyed locked with Angel’s, her slender frame plummeting towards the fire.

Angel’s heart stopped. 

“MOLLY!!” He screamed as she fell, the shriek ripping what was left of his voice apart, the green flames of the chasm reaching up to break her fall.

Fueled by adrenaline, Angel ran to the edge of the pit and reached out for her, all 6 of his arms stretched wide, watching her fall, straining to get closer to her. Molly’s screams rang out in his head, louder than the jazz or the monster or even the ringing in his ears. He watched as she fell, bracing himself to grab her, he wouldn’t let her die again.

“ANTHONY!!” She screamed as she plummeted, her hands out stretched towards him, eyes wide in terror as she fell, she was so close… Angel reached up and out further, the tip of his boot hanging over the edge of the pit, brushing his fingertips against hers, he could just barely touch her… she was too far away….

“Not again,” Angel muttered, and throwing himself over the edge of the chasm, he grabbed a hold of her wrist, fully wrapping his hand around her and holding her tight. 

He grabbed for her other hand as she fell but missed, causing him to hold on to her wrist tighter, only death could make him let go. He grabbed again for her as they fell, finally managing to secure her other two hands in his. Angel’s free hands grabbing for anything to anchor the pair to the cliff, anything to save them from the burning hell of Alastors magic. As they fell into the burning pit, Angel desperately grasped for anything, fingers finally managing to catch onto a crag in the side of the chasm, the sudden jolt of their abrupt stop jostling the twins, the pair clinging tighter as they settled.

Using all of his remaining strength and the three arms that weren’t wrapped around his twin, he held them securely over the pit, the rocky cliff cutting into his fingers and hands. Angel panted in panic and looked deep into Mollys eyes, the green fire raging in his sight behind her, “Don’t look down Molls, jus focus on me okay?” He yelled over the screaming of the Wendigo, the soul wrenching screeches steeping them both with dread.

“Anthony,” Molly whimpered pitifully, her eyes flooded with tears. The young spider sobbed in fear, wrapping tightly around her brother she trembled, knees clenched around his leg. Angel was quickly loosing his hold on the side of the cliff, the rocks so sharp that they threatened to slice his hands in two, but he wouldn’t let Molly down, not again. 

“Hold on tight to me Molly! Don’ let go!” He yelled, voice raspy and hoarse, fear emphasizing his words. Looking up they weren’t too far from the opening, but with his strength already failing, he feared they wouldn’t make it. Mustering everything in him, Angel turned fully to the rocky side of the pit and slowly began to pull them up to the edge. Hand over hand he pulled them up, straining as he climbed, hands bloody and raw, cuts filling with gravel. Sweat dripping from his pallid face, he could hear Molly cry out in pain as the fire crackled higher against her hip. The rancid violin screams rang out hollow and louder above them, the cackling radio and angry trumpet filling the air, laughing in pure joy at their torment.

Anger surged through Angel, fuck his pain, he wouldn’t listen to her screams anymore, he needed her safe. Pulling harder, Angel climbed up the cliff and finally reached a bloody hand up and over the edge of the pit, grabbing firmly to the broken floorboards that signaled their salvation. Pulling with all of his strength, Angel threw an elbow over the lip of the abyss and pulling himself up, reached to find another anchor point with his other damaged hands. His fingers splayed for a hole in the floor, anything to help him pull the two of them up when the board supporting him snapped. Angel gasped, panicked eyes wide he scrambled to find anything else to hold onto as Molly and the Wendigo screamed, the pair slipping back down into the fire. The Radio Demons cries of laughter rang out renewed, louder than before, splinters littering Angels broken hands as they begged for purchase.

“FUCK!” Angel screamed, a bloody hand finally grabbing ahold of a wide crack in the wood inches from the edge, stabbing a broken splinter deep into his fingertip as he held tight. He trembled and panted weakly, pulling them up again, begging his adrenaline rush to get them to safety. With both elbows above the ridge again, he braced against the floor and clenched his torso, pulling himself back over the edge of the hole. He swung a leg over the lip and onto the splintered wood, scrambling to pull the rest of his body up while keeping a firm hold of Molly. Dangling over the acid green flames, she curled into herself away from the fire, sobbing weakly in fear as Angel pulled her up, her small hands reaching up to grab the edge of the chasm.

Straining against his own fatigue, Angel dug his heels into the cracks in the floorboards, pulling Molly over the side of the pit, her eyes bursting with tears. “Come on Molly, its okay,” Angel reached out a hand smiling, the screaming of the Wendigo refreshed in the air, “Jus’ look at me, jus’ focus on me.” Molly stared deeply into his eyes as Alastors howls of manic laughter rang loud through the room, vibrating the air in their lungs and sending the fire of the chasm high into the air. Molly screamed out in pain as the green flames raced up her body, her arms and upper torso the only parts of her above the fires grasp. 

“MOLLY!!” Angel cried, straining hard against her wrists, begging to bring her to safety. Somehow through the distorted bellows of the creature and the mocking jazz in the air, Angel heard the sound of fabric sheering and ripping as he pulled. He stared into his sisters face as it contorted from fear into absolute confusion and panic, her screams shrill and pained. His own brow furrowed in confusion as he pulled her towards him, much lighter after the sound of the ripping had cut through the air. The colossus Alastor loomed large over head, mouth and eyes wide in twisted delight, fangs dripping rancid black blood, his disfigured arms caging them in. Abnormally large eyes wide, acid green dials lit the pair from the demons insane gaze, his cackling unhinged through the radio waves and Angels mind as a ring of shadow demons cackled and jeered in delight.

Molly’s screams rang out in the tiny cabin and shook Angel to his core, ripping him back into reality from the daze he had been in since hearing the sound. 

He scrambled towards her, pulling her to him as she screamed out in agony, his confusion and fear causing bile to pool at the back of his throat, blood running cold as he forced himself to her side. “MOLLY WHAT IS IT? TELL ME Wha-“ He stopped when he noticed the reason for her cries, she had no legs. She screamed out again, “ANTHONY!! OH GOD MAKE IT STOP!” “She thrashed and shrieked, her brothers eyes locked on where her legs would be as he held her. 

“IT BURNS!! OH GOD ANTHONY PLEASE!!” Angels mind went blank, fireflies singeing his face and arms, eyes locked on the hem of her shirt and the void beneath it “IT BURNS!!” Molly screamed.

Angel pulled her into his arms, hands shaking he secured her in his lap as she sobbed in agony. “Molly let me see…” Angel managed to say, words detached and hollow, a trembling hand reaching towards the edge of her shirt near her waist. He swallowed hard, the noise of the cabin all blending together and failing against the ringing in his ears, the pounding of his heart throbbing through his frame. “ANTHONY PLEASE!!” She sobbed again as he gingerly grabbed the singed hem of her shirt and pulling up slightly, exposed the burnt ends of hay and dried grass sticking out from under her shirt. 

Angel stared at the sticks and reeds, unable to blink or breathe. His eyes mutely wandered to Molly’s beautiful face distorted in terror and agony, arms flailing in fear, begging and sobbing for the pain to stop. His eyes stung with tears, as her screams cut through the fog that had covered his mind and the cacophony of torment and horror came flooding in again, reigniting his dread. His body moved on its own, the need to comfort her the only way he could react. Weakly he reached up to brush Molly’s matted and dirty hair, voice trembling as he tried to sooth her. “Its…i-it’s gonna be ok-kay Molly… I’m…” 

H̴̝̩̫͉̀̏̄̂ơ̸̢̼̞͗w̵̥̫̦̆͘ ̴̝̣̉w̷̝̱̃i̸̬̙̰̓̉̋͛l̴͇̈́l̶͚̯̦̈́̾̅͗͠ ̵̼̀̽̄̐y̶̼̏͛̚͠o̵̪̙̣̣̫̍͗ṵ̶̥̭̪̋́͜ ̵̿̃͝ͅf̶̛̪͖̣̀̕ĭ̸̪̰̀̋x̴͈̏͂̀ ̸͔͔̬̞̀̾t̸̘̍h̷̳̜̩̳̾́i̸͇̣̒̓s̶̻̭̪̐̊

“I’m gonna make it okay…”

Ḫ̶̛̛̘͕̘̞͉͚̀̍̅͛͑̿́̑̇̋̉Ơ̷͇̖̮̲̲̣̣͙͙̱̞̙̅W̴̜̻̜͗͗̋̅̒̕͝ ̵̧̤̰̜̩̫̱̯͚̹̼͓̍͌͛̕͜ͅẄ̸̨̛͔̟̘̮͉̮͓̻́́̾́̀͆́͛̏̋̽̈́̽̏̎͜I̶̢̛͉̊̿̂̽ͅḶ̷̛̜̠͔̞̦̠̫͓͛̀̂̃͛̌͆̒́̎̕L̸̨̦̱̠̜͎͇̭̦̗̭͈͔̭͈̈́͋͘ ̴̛̛̼͇̄̿͗͑͗́̚͝Y̶̻͆͛̓̒̈́͗̽͒̔͆͋̓̕͘̚͠͝O̴̺͖̼͖̣̙̤̲̱̍͌͐U̷̝̯̬̓̔̓̔͘ ̴͓̺̣̲̹͆F̴̧̫̠͔̜͙̖͍͍̼̞̭̓̉͌̋͂̏̎̈́̈́̕͠͠͝I̴̧̢͕̹͎̺̲͙̰̤̭̱̿͋͑͗̄͐͒͒̋̅̊̚͝X̵̺̣̣͔͔͙̹͊͘ ̸̬̳̰̝̭̦̹͕̣̺̅̎̂̅͂́͜͝ͅṪ̸̡̤͓͚́̓̄̉͗̚̚͝Ḩ̴̹̮̤̝̭͉̹͎̠̱͓̻͑̔͛̑͋͑̉̇̄̉͝Į̶̧͍̜̰̮̦̙̠̺̰̻̪̦̳̯͂̀̈́͋͝͝ͅS̴̛͎̠͎̐́̆̿̓͆̀͛̀̉̈̕͝͝?

“I CAN FEEL IT BURNING MY SOUL!! ITS BURNING MY SOUL!! ANTHONY PLEASE HELP ME!!” Angel whimpered and muttered hollow reassurances rocking them back and forth, eyes still staring at the hay coming out of her ribs, too scared to admit the truth to himself, afraid to look deeply at his sisters features. 

“MAKE IT STOP!! PLEASE HELP ME!! IT’S BURNING MY SOUL ANTHONY, PLEASE!!” Her hands pulled at his sweater, begging him to end her suffering. Angel let out a choked sob, deep anguish contorting his face, he held her close and threw his head back letting out a rage fueled cry of agony. He screamed until he had no breath left in him and slumped sobbing against Molly’s now smaller frame, her shrieks of pain muffled as he buried his face into her neck. He grabbed her close and screamed again with her. The Wendigos voice called out in Angels mind.

w̵͙̰͇͎̄́̄́͌h̸͇̜̻̤̀̿y̴̫̗͕͌̏̓̒͠ ̸̜͎̀͊͆̚͝w̶̧̟̦̓̓̊̾ͅǫ̶̡̘̙̇ň̶̨͚͝'̸̰̊̓ť̷̺͂̎̽ ̸̡͂̄́̌y̷̱͆̒͝ò̵̬̬͚̼̒͂͐͜ů̷̱ ̴̪͔̳͖̿͂̇̈́ͅļ̴̜͆ȏ̸̡̱̟̭ǒ̴̖̙̥͋͠k̵̼̗̱̰̓̈̄ ̶͈̳̦͍́̈́á̵͙̘͎̺̘t̴͉͝ ̶̘̯͙̼͛̿́̾͝h̵͕͔͙͕̄́ȅ̸̫͈̟̙̯ŗ̶͎̠̗̀̏̓?̶͙̺̘̳̀

“SHUT UP!!” Angel screamed, clenching his eyes tight, Molly shrieking for death in his ear.

Ļ̷̢̨̢͈̯̦͍̗͕̝͙͂̒͛̉̓̔̓̑̌̀̋̀̆̌̅̿̏̓̂͊͛͝Ö̷̢̻̭̟̳̖̹̱̟͆̽̾͋͐̀̊͗́͌͊͜͜Ȯ̴̢̧̤̺̰͕͓͙͛̊̀̓͑̈́͛͘ͅͅK̷͉̪͚̲̰̟̗̀͊͐̇͂́̂̏̄̎̌̄́̚͝ ̵̧̦̬͎͔̰̙̓̽̓̊̃̓͒̓́͆̓̇͑̚̕͝͝Ä̸̢̡͓̳́͋̎́̌̈̈́̿̎͠T̷̨͚̯̜̫̀̒̎͑͊͊̑͊ ̶͉͎̫̣̱̬̈́͋͂̿̄̋̿̏͊̀̉̂̓̽͐̀̂̚͠H̸̛͇̎͂̾͐͐̓̈̄̆̀͋Ë̷̤̺͕̪͈͖̘͉̙̭̱́̔̃̐̇̎̾̔̽͊̕͜͠͝ͅͅȐ̵̨̛̞̩̲̣̻͙̻̳̬̖̪͍͛́̾͌͂͛̈̔

The voice commanded loudly in Angels mind and reverberated throughout his body startling him, causing him to open his eyes with a sob, tears running down his chapped and raw cheeks. He screwed his eyes closed again and biting his trembling lip, turned his face towards his screaming sister and opened his eyes slowly.

Teary red eyes looked down into her horror and pain filled face, acid green stitches lining her features and holding together the seems of her skin. Angel shook his head in defeat and sorrow as he noted the singed burlap of her cheek, her arms and neck seems bursting with reeds and dried grass. “No…” he whimpered, Molly screaming out in agony, “ITS BURNING MY SOUL ANTHONY!! PLEASE!! MAKE IT STOP BURNING!!” An arm seem ripped fully and her arm slumped to the ground, landing brokenly on the floorboards with a small thud. She writhed in pain, hay splaying on the nearby ground as Alastors manic laugher blared from the static of the radio.

w̸͔̩͍̹͇̣̻͑̎̐͂h̷̨͉͈̯̯̝̲̩̄̊͜y̴̢͔͈̥̪̤̜̑͆̄͊͆̃͒̚̕͜ ̸̬̹͚̟̓̂̚ͅẁ̵̺̭͎͎͖̱͆̈́ò̵͈͓̯̱̯͂̊̈͜n̶̲̖̗̩̪̘̜͌͒̈́̍͛́͊̆̈̚'̷̛̻̺̟͓̺̘̩̮́̒͂̓̓̊͑͜t̴̛̺̙̹̗̃̌̏̓̅̓ ̸͓̩̾y̵̧͓̺̲͕̺͍͚̲̅̊̂̋̅̿́̇̏o̸̰̞͙̐̋̓̊͂̕͠ȕ̷̺̯͔͈̦̯̑̃͊́͊͝ ̴͎̘͔̯̰̪͔̝̆͘h̵̢̼̭̺̪̜̤̋̿̐͜ę̶̡̞̪̟̟͍̣͕̘͗̀l̷̡̥̱̟̳̇̏͜p̸̲͎̘̰͎͖̥̳̱̽ ̸͈̪̜̘̭̲̭̻͑̾̌͌͐̂h̵̨̡͍̰̲͍̪͇̆̈̋͋ế̵̡͈̬̜͙̮̼͚̼̯̇̿͒̽͝͠ŗ̸̠̠̩̥͌̽͝?̴̛̳͍̯͈̤̞̲̒

Angel shook as she begged for death, shrieking cries begging for him to stop the fire from burning, that she could feel the fire burning her soul away. Angel sobbed and sobbed, clutching Molly’s body to his chest, her cries of pain muffled only when he buried his face in her hair and screamed himself. The jazz wailed along with Alastors roaring laughter, the static of the radio buzzing with the ringing of his ears. The Wendigos hollow pulling screeches served as a background to Molly’s own cries of anguish. The noise was too much, it was all too much. He clutched his screaming twin closer and sobbed harder. 

“Anthony please….” She whimpered, a sharp gasp and cry of pain renewed as her body fell into further decay, the tear on her wrist ripping further, seems in her face popping, dried grass peeking through her hair and eyelashes, “Please Anthony kill me,” She sobbed, “I can feel it burnin me away from inside of me, Please… kill me please….” she begged, crying like when she was 6 and had broken her arm falling off of the countertop. She was so small then… She gasped loudly in pain and cried looking into his eyes. Angel looked down at his sister with tears spilling through his lashes, her stitched mouth contorted and twisted in pain “PLEASE ANTHONY!” she convulsed in pain and begged, truly, deeply, begged for him to kill her.

W̶̛̙͈̝̰̜͚̳̫̻̟͈̦̏̒̾͒͋̊͌͒̇̾̕H̸͕͙́͌͋͜Ỳ̷̧͈̜̬̩͕͈̙͉͇̊̊̄͌ͅ ̵̧̡̨̹̦͙̠͊̃̆̊̈́͐̓͛͗̋̕ͅW̸͉̟͖̗̦͔̉̄̊̾͑̊̍̃O̴̡̦̯̦̹̱̥̮̺̙͙͙͂͠N̴̯̫͔͚̻̑̽̈̓̆̀̈̋̊͜͠T̶̢͈̀̈́͛́̀̈́̚͠ ̴̛̤͈̦̠͎̬̭͓̂͗̃̓́̇̈́̈́͋͜Y̶̧̢̛͈̟̻̜͗̊͑̀̄̈͌̆̅̍́Ȏ̸͓̗̳̲̆̈̔̋̇͛͠ͅU̷̡̮̺͓̞̱̳̺̖̹̣͐͗̾̈́̑̀̐̇̅͒̄ͅͅ ̵̢̞͕̮̩̗̤͗Ḧ̴͍̳́̀̀̎̃̕͠È̶̫̲͎̉̽̚Ļ̸̢̛̼͇̟͉̭̯̟͎̱̭̹͛̈́́̌̇́̈̋̈͛̾̚P̴̧̱̱̤͓͇̲͑̍̇͑͠ ̷̲̗̳͚͔͖͎̯̗̲͎͓̣̍̽̈́́̌̃̈́̔͗̐Ḧ̴͔̗̋̂̅̇́̉̃͛̕͠Ë̶̗͔͍̪̜̙̘̲̫́̎̓͊̏͛̈̅R̸͖̜̪͚͇̰̮̥͒́͌̿̅̍͜?̶̢̭̘̺̲̗̗̾͑̒͜

“STOP IT!!” Angel screamed, Molly screaming anew. “STOP! Just… Stop it- I…” Angel’s body wracked with sorrow. 

He pressed his forehead to hers, tears streaming down his face and squeezed his eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Not her, not again.

Angel let out a choking sob against Molly’s hair as he tucked her under his chin, not again. The beasts screaming echoed deep throughout Angel’s body, Molly’s cries of pain somehow louder. The ringing of his ears, the static laden laugher still screaming from the gramophone. 

“What’s the matter Angel?” Alastors silky voice asked in his ear as the spider sobbed.

Angel rocked back and forth with his burlap and hay sister in his arms, her cries of agony cutting through the torment of the creature and the jazz. His tired and burning red eyes burst with tears, digging channels in his chapped and matted cheeks, pain coursing through his entire body. His ragged and pained gasps for air between sobs chipping further away at him, sanity long gone at this point, the horror of losing his beloved sister staring him in the face again, taunting him.

A̴̢̬̫̤̮̗̙͉̬̐̃͗͐ͅṘ̷̯͋̊̏̈́͑͆̎̋͝É̶̛̥̥̭̥̜̙͎̦̭͔͗̽̓ ̶̲̹̖̓͂͌̈́̌͋́͑̓͜Y̴͚̗̼̘̰̬̏́͌̿̔̄͌͘͘Ȍ̸̢̯̥̟̲̗̈̓͋̂̾Ụ̵̦̹̣̹̱͔̞́̀ ̷̼̄̉̉̍͌͐̈͘͝S̷͕̼̜̙̮̃̋̽̋̾̈͠͠Ç̵̪̙̜̞̫̠̯̊͆̎͜͠͝Ḁ̵̡̮̭̪̼̌͜͝Ṙ̵̨̝̘̻͖͇͔̆͊̆͊̽̓̋͜E̶͉͕͙̘̟͕̭͒͑̆͝ͅͅD̸̢̼̰̗̟͍̗̈́̑͗͜?̴̯͉̻̂̏͑̋̅̌̉͘͜

The question booms out in Angels head, sending shockwaves through his body and causing him to cling tighter to Molly, her shrieks of pain loud in his ear. Yes, he whimpered helplessly, he was terrified. He was so close to loosing her again he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except cling to her. 

W̵̧̥̹͎̖͌̎̌̍́̀́̌̆̽̈́̑̔̕̚Ĥ̶̢̧͙̮̻̯̭͎͕͇̣͓͉̱̋̒͊͜͠͝͝ͅÂ̶͖̣̰͓͖̔͑̔̀͐̆́̀̚͘̕͜͝͝T̴̛̛͈̮̮̲̪͎͓́̆͌͊̄̔͘̕͜ͅͅ ̸̲͐̂̈́́͂̍̇͝Ẃ̵̜̝̺͛͊͋͒̆̽͗̃͘͘̚͠Ȉ̷̩͕͙͕̦̪͙͚̟̫̻̙͖͍̋̊́͒̾̉͜L̵̢̟̩̾̿ͅL̶̨̨̝͈̤͙̺̯̗̳̪͖̑͒͗́̿̄̋̓̀̔̉̑͘͝ ̶͔̰̣͓̩̥̙͙̩̺̠́̓̿̽͊̋̃͛̀͐̎́͌͜Y̸̮͎͍̥̮̻͉͆̿͂̾̋̊͛͊̔̄̉́͘̚̚͘ͅO̸̡̖̱̗͎̬̙̼̗̒̈́͋̇͆̉̀̆̊̍͘̚͜Ư̶̩̦̺͖̲̽͗͌̏̔̀̀̿̃̀͂́̚̕͝ ̵̳̳̜́̈́̓͊̈́͂͂̇̃̈͗́̎͂̊͂D̵̘̤̼̙͓̼̼̑̅Ǫ̶̻͍̽̌͐̑̓͛̆̚͠?̴̘̹̳̻̰̝̗̻͖̉̐̑ͅͅ

To save Molly? Anything, he thought instantly. He would do anything to stop her pain and see her smile again, anything to hear her laugh and end her tormented cries. He would give anything, do anything to end this, to stop hearing her terror filled and anguished cries of pain. As it was, her screams would haunt him for the rest of his life, her screams were etched deeply forever in Angels mind. What remained of Molly’s body twitched and writhed in pain in his arms, “ANTHONY PLEASE!! ITS BURNING AWAY MY SOUL!! KILL ME PLEASE!!”

“Anything?” Alastor crooned, his cognac smooth tone a gentle kiss. The demon wrapped his standard solid frame around Angel, the back of his hand gently brushing against his cheek, the other wrapped around Angel’s shoulder under his arm, fingers toying lightly at the exposed skin of his shoulder through the rips of his sweater. Angel didn’t even react as the buck pressed his chest firmly to Angel’s back, too broken and traumatized, only able to focus on Molly’s screams, “ANTHONY PLEASE!! OH GOD ITS BURNING!!”

Angel gasped and turned his head into his own chest, jaw and eyes clenched in a body wracking sob. “MAKE IT STOP!” He yelled out, Molly and the Wendigo screaming, the jazz violent and wild in the swirling green magic that surrounded them, popping and burning against the fabric and flesh. Alastor leans in closer, nuzzling the spiders cheek, pressing his lips to Angel’s bloody temple, “Say it,” The Radio Demon lowered his eyes and caressed the spiders wet cheek, his free hand slowly wandering up Angel’s chest towards his throat. 

Angel’s body was numb with pain and grief. His mind was blank, he could barely breathe. The screams, the ringing of his ears and Molly’s shrieking cries of pain echoed in his bones, her body twitching and screaming to die, the hollow call of the creature and the laughter of the shadows of demons blaring through the static of the radio. Angel stared defeated and broken into the eyes of his sister, her red eyes bursting with new tears with each wail of agony. 

“I’ll do anything….” He rasped out, broken and hollow, “Just help her…. Make her stop hurting…” He curled into himself, eyes clenched, tears streaming through the cracks, his body rocking slowly as he sobbed, Molly screaming in his broken arms. “Make her stop…” he gasped weakly “M-make her stop….Make her stop…. ” He rocked back and forth sobbing, Alastor rest his cheek against Angels temple, a lecherous smirk plastered wide on his face, clawed fingers gently brushing through his hair, his free hand delicately clasped around his throat as the screams of the Wendigo suffocated the air.

In an instant Angels eyes snapped open, locked on the demon standing feet before him in the doorway. Alastor was standing still before him, staff in hand, arms folded behind his back, a syrupy wicked smirk on his face. Angel exhaled and looked down. He’s shirtless, no cuts on his hands, no bruises or scrapes or Molly in his arms. He’s fine, standing a few steps into a medium sized bedroom, a small fire crackling warmly to his right, a bed covered in purple velvet linens to his left.

Angel stared at the demon, panting, eyes wide in confusion, what the fuck…. What was happening…. It had all been so real, her screams still ringing in his ears… Other than some other random pieces of furniture, and some paintings, there was nothing out of the ordinary about where he was now, it was just a bedroom at the hotel not so different from Angel’s own further up the hall. Angels eyes darted around the room as he panted in confusion, this didn’t make any sense, what…. What the fuck had just happened…. His mind raced with fear and chaos, it felt so real, he looked down at his hands, they had just been soaked in her blood, he had just been holding her, sobbing as Molly begged for him to kill her… and now, they were clean, no cuts, no scrapes, no stabbing pain when he took a breath or ringing in his ears or screaming in the air….

Alastor tilted Angels head up ever so slightly with the tip of his claw, staring at him with the softest eyes. Angel jumped and gasped weakly in fear, he had been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed Alastor approach him at all, “Darling,” The Radio Demon cooed, his smouldering gaze meeting Angel’s terror filled eyes, a crystal tear already tumbling down his cheek, “Are you sure you’re alright?” Alastor leaned in closer, brows twisted in concern, fingers gently tracing the line of the spiders jaw “you look a bit pale.” He tilted his face in closer, lips grazing Angels.

Angels eyes snapped wider in terror and he quickly retracted, turning quickly on his heel and pushing past Alastor, he launched himself off of the doorframe and down the hall, sprinting for the safety of his own bedroom. He had no idea what the fuck had just happened, but he never wanted it to happen again.

Alastors gleeful cackle rang after him down the hall, the demon tumbling over himself in hysterical laughter as Angel ran quickly away, fear etching a vow to never even look at the radio demon again. Alastor laughed in devilish delight as he considered what favor he would ask of Angel for ending his sisters pain. “He did say anything,” The Radio Demon mused, another wave of chilling laughter darkening the halls of the Hazbin Hotel.

[brilyyy]

I turn to Ares.

Thanks to Tyler Miles Lockett who allowed me to draw inspiration from his ARES piece for page 2! Look at his etsy page it's SICK

⚔️ If you want to read some queer retelling of arturian legends have a look at my webtoon

[brilyyy]

He’s the worst and I love him

[brilyyy]

Black Velvet mushroom, for Funguary

[brilyyy]

What's the matter? Lives flashing before your eyes?

[brilyyy]

Romance (Alastor x Angel Dust) 2/3

Here we go with part two, all I can say is, sorry Angel ❤️❤️ part three coming soon!

story warnings - horror, disturbing imagery

Angel's shoulders fell as he let out a huff of exasperation. Why the fuck didn’t he think something like this would happen? Of course that asshole was going to make something as easy as sex this exhausting and as annoying as possible. Angel huffed again, I mean, it’s not like he had anything better to do, Val would be pissed if he didn’t show but what was new? He was overbearing whether Angel was trying or not, and after that last shoot he could use some recovery time. Charlie would wonder I’m sure, but She and Vaggie had been spending more time together since she found out they were an Angel, and honestly it was kinda gross how cutesy they were being. “I better get my ass ate for this.” Angel muttered crossing his arms.

After a minute, another deep sigh and another roll of his eyes, Angel started walking through the forest, he figured he’d walk across the small clearing at least to get away from the tree. During the broadcast he had noticed small dolls hanging from the branches of the mangled tree and felt shivers run through him, though not the enjoyable ones from before. The twisted figures were made out of twigs and reeds tied together with rips of cloth and hung from the branches on different lengths of string. It unsettled him and replaced the once aching in his stomach with a sickness that made him look away. Walking further from the tree he expected to hear more wildlife, but still there was nothing but the periodic, faint call of birds in the distance and the sounds of leaves and branches crunching under his steps. 

—

He walked for what seemed like hours over mossy fallen trees and through pits of thick mud filled with branches. The forest floor was rarely flat, so he huffed and cursed loudly as he climbed over slippery grass and mossed boulders, gnarled, twisted roots sending him stumbling often. The light drizzle didn't help, a constant mist blanketing the forest. He fell only once, but cursed very loudly about it and screamed colorful profanities into the forest for about 10 minutes afterward. Thoroughly exhausted and over his muddy hike, he cried out in joy when he found a creek running through the trees. "FUCKING finally," He smiled as he reached for the refreshing stream and settled on a nearby boulder to rest. He closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh as the dry aching in his throat was washed away by the chilled water. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, looking around to see if there was any sign he was getting closer, closer to killin' Alastor he thought. 

The sky was still bright but it had changed from a faint pink hue to a slightly green light. It tricked Angel's eyes and made him think he was seeing things, trees moving or, people? No...something. Following behind him, standing just outside his periphery. Every time he turned around nothing was there, just silence and the thousands of trees that surrounded him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something there. A fog had begun to hang low over the moss and twisted tree roots, he blamed that and the oddly green sky for the tricks of his eyes.

Taking another drink of water Angel splashed some of the water on the back of his neck and closed his eyes taking another deep breath. This place was making him paranoid, the forest was so quiet it was unnerving. He could only hear far off birds sometimes, but he never saw any, and even their chirps were sounding stranger and stranger the further he went. He’d also noticed little… things. Trees with carvings in them, symbols he'd never seen before that looked similar to Alastor's, they were lines carved deep into the wood. Sometimes the wood oozed a deep crimson sap that smelled like rancid meat. If that wasn't fucked enough he started to find clothes. Walking through some bushes he had found a sweater snagged on a low tree branch, ripped and dirty, but wearable. At first he was relieved to no longer be cold and immediately covered himself in it. 

Happy to no longer be shirtless, the more he walked the more he began to wonder about why it was even there to begin with. A bit further along he found a pair of shoes nestled against the base of a tree. Each sock had been folded neatly and tucked into each shoe, with a pair of tortoise shell glasses settled neatly on top. The shoes were shined to an almost mirror finish and the items looked in perfect condition, save for the single drop of blood on the toe of the left wingtip. Seeing this made his stomach churn and suddenly he felt his skin itch under the fabric of the sweater. He looked down at the sweater and decided to keep it (better than being cold, the forest was freezing and the fog was only getting worse) but he decided to ignore the missing portion of the sweater, cut out right above the heart.

He could bare all of that, he thought, fucked up as it was, but what disturbed him the most were the dolls. Throughout the forests canopy there were clusters of dolls littering the branches, differently colored and patterned scraps of cloth tied around bundles of sticks and straw or hay hanging from the ceiling of trees. He shivered under their eyeless gaze and hated seeing them twisting in the non existent breeze. He felt like he could hear them whispering, but he shook that off as more paranoia. More than anything right now he just wanted to go home. 

Angel shook off the thought and reached into the stream for one last handful of water before moving on and brought his hands to his mouth, sipping slowly. His eyes snapped open in shock. Quickly and Violently he spat out the liquid and looked at his hands, that wasn’t water - something almost black and bitter, it coated his fingers and slowly slid down his arms. He looked down in horror at the creek and saw that instead of the streams of crystal cool water, It was deep crimson, thick, congealed pools of long since dead blood, black ooze slipping over rocks and all down his hands and face. “What the ffffuckkkk…” Panicked, Angel frantically wiped his face and hands on his new covering and the ground trying not to vomit when a piercing cry rang through the trees. He froze. The sound was far but loud, it sounded otherworldly and hollow, like something was wounded. Metallic but broken, it cut straight through whatever was left of Angel's bravery and chilled him to his core. The screech echoed through the trees so loudly that birds should have come flooding out, but Angel was truly alone, and for the first time he began to actually fear where he was.

As the cries died and echos faded, there was nothing left but ringing silence. Angel having been frozen in place, stood up and looked in the direction the sound came from. His heart was pounding in his throat and all he could feel was a sick dread building in his stomach. His fear immediately turned into fury at the demon causing his unease and his lips curled in a hateful snarl  “SUCK MY DICK ALASTOR!!" Angel screamed defiantly from his chest into the trees. If it wasn't for so many brutal nights with Val he wouldn't have been able to keep the fear from his voice, but he was quickly losing his composure.

Nothing again but deafening silence. Angel stared again at the place in the trees where the scream had come from, breathing heavily and daring it to respond. After another long moment of silence, he decided he'd had enough rest and to get back towards, wherever it was he was going. Turning his back on the trees, he shifted to step over the once again crystal clear stream when another a piercing screech rang through the trees like a scream, louder and more violent than before.

The sound shook the trees and threw leaves and stray branches at Angel's face. He braced himself against the gusting winds, but the force of the haunted scream pushed him to the ground, sending him scurrying to hide his back against a tree. He hid behind a fallen trunk large enough to cover him fully, the screams getting louder and more distorted the longer they rang. He covered his head with one pair of arms and covered his ears with a second, burying his head in his knees, he wrapped a third set of arms around his body and begged for the noise to end.

The forest was shaking with the metallic cry, like large rusted horns scraping against each other, though there was something human in the cry that made Angel's blood freeze. The force of the scream whipped tree branches and leaves around, snapping younger trees in half and hurling them at the tree the young spider hid behind. Angel grit his teeth together as tears welled up in his eyes, his body shaking with the sound of the screaming, sucking up all of the oxygen, vibrating through out his entire body until he could barely breathe. 

Then, the cry stopped just as suddenly as it had started, no echo, just silence, and for a minute there was nothing. Then, a deep, sickening thud. Angel could hear the sounds of old trees far in the distance cracking and being felled, branches snapping echoed in the air, and large objects crashed to the ground. Panting, he ripped his teary eyes open, and gingerly peeped around his hiding tree. Silence, and then the sound of cracking in the distance, followed by a ground shaking thump.

Frozen in place, Angel watched in horror as the trees far off in the distance began to shake, then another large tremor, followed by torturous silence. Tears streaming down his face, Angel stared forward at the trees, a set of hands covering his mouth as he panted in fear, unable to look away as whatever it was as it came closer, the cracking and breaking becoming louder and louder, the snapping branches sharper in his ear.

Shaking leaves and large, old trees cracked off in the distance, he could see them crashing down, but he couldn’t see what was doing it, his pink eyes darting and scouring the tree line to find it. The sickening footfalls shook the trees surrounding angel and he cowered behind the tree trunk as the ground settled. Shaking, he peeked over the fallen tree once again, straining to see whatever the fuck that thing was. 

He gasped when he finally saw it. Just a glimpse, but it was enough to shake him to his core - a towering, distorted and unnerving creature, grotesque proportions and glowing red eyes staring straight at him. Angel felt hollow with a true sense of dread but was rooted in place, unable to look away or breathe. The creature was tall and so large, he couldn't see its whole body. Pitch black with arms and legs impossibly long and thin, red eyes glowing from behind what looked to be a large white buck skull, a bright crown of thorny antlers jutting from its head. Its neck stretched long and tilted brokenly through the trees, black blood dripping from its fanged mouth, the twisted crown of dagger-like antlers rest upon its head. It crouched on all four legs but as it began to slowly move forward, Angel could see it shifting between walking upright and on all fours as it approached causing all of his hair to stand on end. The way it looked, the way it moved…. It was wrong. 

The beast now on all fours, slowly due to its size, boomed closer through the trees until it stoped a fair distance from where the spider hid. The black mass paused, unaffected by the falling trees and snapping of roots as it moved through the forest. For a long time, the inky creature stared back at the spider hiding behind the tree. Angel took a shaky breath, straining to see the creature through the trees, but he dared not move under the twisted creatures red stare. The monster in the trees stared back, then abruptly stood up on its two back legs. It watched for another moment then twisted its head 180 degrees. Angel held his breath. The creature stared back, the air was still.

The horned creature twisted and snaked its unnaturally long neck around trees and closer towards Angel then stopped sharply, cocking its head a half turn so that it was now sideways. The creature stared again, its red eyes glowering, burning into Angel’s. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop shaking, but couldn’t look away. In horror, Angel watched as it slowly opened its jaws, blood and chucks of rotted flesh falling from its tilted mouth. Angels ears rang in the silence as the creature remained unnaturally still. It was still for a long time.

Then, when Angel felt like he couldn’t take it anymore, the creatures gaping skull let out an ungodly metallic scream, the dying call of a wounded deer distorted and twisted slammed through the trees. Disembodied voices screamed along with the sound of steel claws on chalkboard pierced Angel’s ears. The vibration of the screeching in the air was suffocating and immediately pushed out all of the air, forcing him to his feet as his pink eyes widened in fear and his body took over. Angel turned from the eldritch terror and ran as fast as he could. 

He scrambled over the twisting roots and leaves, past trees and over boulders while the screaming rang louder behind him, shaking the air in his lungs. Heart pounding in his ears, Angel raced through the trees, eyes wide in terror, forcing his tired body to move. The creature let out another long haunted screech, ripping chills through the air, the screaming of a woman loud in his ear, pushing Angel to run harder, even though his body was on fire with strain.

His foot slipped and sent him headfirst into a tree, bashing his face into the ragged bark, but he pushed himself away instantly and ran further into the forest, away from the grotesque demonic creature screaming behind him, he could taste blood in his mouth. The hollow metallic bellow rang throughout the forest and straight through him, and worse of all, now he could hear it running after him.

The thundering stampede shook the ground, causing Angel to pant and push faster, the crashing and snapping of trees, the scraping of rusted steel rubbing against itself screaming became the air. Angel strained and gasped, his legs were burning and he felt like his lungs were on fire, but he dared not stop. He scrambled past fallen trees and pushed branches out of the way, smaller ones whipping his cheeks, the gusts of wind from the creatures screams sending leaves scattered through the air. 

Pushed by his primal need to survive, Angel ran harder. He darted past a tree and stepped out, but his foot found nothing and sent him stumbling down a hill over broken trees and shrubs. Heel over head, he fell down the steep bank covered in boulders and roots as the tortured screams echoed above him. Angel bounced and tumbled, crying out as he bashed into trees along the way until he slid on leaves finally reaching flat land. He laid there, panting, bloody and broken. His entire body ached and his head was fuzzy, a loud ringing in his ears. His eyes drifted between open and closed, weakly, he took short ragged breaths, the taste of blood and dirt in his mouth.

His body begged for rest, and he gave in for a moment, but the screams vibrating in the air returned, finally louder than the ringing in his ears and Angel scrambled, weakly slipping over leaves towards a large knot in base of a nearby weeping willow. He crawled brokenly towards the tree, weakly he grabbed at the cage like roots and buried himself deep inside of the trunk, pushing himself as far in as he could to the alcove, pulling his body in just as tight. 

Angel screwed his eyes shut and let out a terrified whimper, covering his ears and head with a set of arms and holding his body tight with the other as the tree vibrated around him. The next round of screams came from right above the willow, shaking every fiber between them with its foul violin shrieks, sending a jolt directly into Angel. Mind blank, eyes wide is absolute terror, shakily, he pushed himself deeper into the tree, begging for it to stop through broken silent sobs and clawing weakly into the solid roots and dirt. Tears streak down his face as he whimpered beneath the screaming overhead, when suddenly he felt something. Angel grabbed for what felt like cloth, thick yarn similar to the sweater he was wearing. He freezes. Cracking his eyes, he cautiously peered in the direction of his touch, eyes shaking with tears, fear, mania. 

He followed his arm down to his hand, then to his fingertips where he saw what looked like an arm. His fingers rested near the elbow, arm bent away from him and resting above where the head would be. Angel shook with the yelling of the horror, choking on the damp air, he noticed the sweater. It was black with similar details to his, whereas the sweater he wore was white with black details. Somehow, his stomach fell further and he felt bile come up his throat. He turned his head fully and stared in horror at the one armed headless torso, tears burning his cheeks, his mouth open in a silent racking sob. He pulled his hand back gingerly, ears ringing, body pounding, with the creatures hollow, bellowing screeches over head. 

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the body, dried blood painting the white accents in their sweater, sending him further into his corner and spiral - but then, he noticed something in her hand. Angel couldn’t control his body at this point, his arm reached out for some unknown reason and pulled the arm back enough to see a silver charm bracelet half buried in the dirt. Tarnished and small, angel saw three silver pieces hanging from it - A carousel horse, a four leaf clover, and a heart with a word inscribed - sisters.

Angel snapped his hand back and screamed. He screamed and screamed and though his cries were drowned out by the thunderous bellowing above him, they ripped his already paper thin throat apart. He scrambled out of the hidden cove, crawling away from the corpse, sobbing and screaming. The willow’s cover shield’s Angel from the demon, but he could see its sickly long legs and claws surrounding the tree. Its limbs long and black, dripping with dead blood, rancid and decayed flesh sloughing off against rooted trees, insects crawling from its long fingers.

Angel’s eyes traveled up the creatures legs and found the cover of the willow, curtains of petal shaped leaves shielding him from the existential horror raging above him. As Angel looked into the canopy protecting him from seeing the creature, his eyes found a terrible thing.

An arm, with a silver charm bracelet, strung from a branch. 

His eyes found another arm, and then a leg, then another leg, all strung from varying lengths of rope, scattered amongst the willows protective shield of branches and leaves. From underneath the tree like this, he stared up into a sky filled with rotted limbs and dolls made from reeds and twigs, tied together with differing colored scraps of cloth, plaid, patterned, bloodied.

The demon let out another deep haunted cry, screeching metal ripping across the rancid violin, stabbing through his sanity, and something snapped in Angel. He clutched his head and screamed, screamed until he ran out of breath and then ripping cold air into his lungs he screamed again. He turned in on himself, writhing on a bed of leaves and clutching at his head, he screamed, lungs wrung of any breath.

The air shook with Angel and the creature’s screams until the spinning of his head became too much. Angel closed his eyes and he slipped away, finally surrendering to his body’s pain, resigned to the onslaught of terror.

[brilyyy]

Romance (Alastor x Angel) 1/3

Seeing all of Hazbin Alastor fics out there I had to throw my hat in the ring. I love a slutty Al, but I wanted to lean more into him being a fucked up guy ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Got a little out of control and now I have to split it up into multiple parts, oops.

Anyways here's part one, hope you enjoy!

story warnings - language, light smut, horror

It was a rare quiet night at the hotel, and even rarer, Alastor found himself sitting at the bar chatting with Husk. Husker wasn't sure what the hell had come over him, but it was highly interesting to see the fearsome demon being so nostalgic. He'd sauntered into the room fixing his cuffs and humming an old tune which he transferred to the radio in the room. Leaning on the bar, he'd greeted Husk as an old friend and asked for a two finger pour of rye as he settled onto a stool. Husk had been skeptical and originally scoffed at the demon telling him to fuck off, but Alastor had proved to simply be talkative and on, what Husk shuddered to realize, was his best behavior. With the jazz softly playing from the glowing green radio, Husker managed a deep chuckle as Alastor finished his second drink. He was delighted to see that, from what he could tell, Al was a bit tipsy. He poured off another double as Angel burst into the room yawning and making his usual loud entrance.

"Aaahhh fuck me, daddy, whata rough night!" Husk rolled his eyes. Not looking forward to having his feathers ruffled, he started getting Angel's post work black out beverage ready hoping that would keep him off his back. "When Val fixates on somthin' he really goes all in." Angel sat delicately on the stool and grabbed for the drink Husk slid him, flitting his fingers over Husk's claws and staring him in the eye "you ever hearda fistin?" Angel purred cocking his brow and smiling his toothy grin at the fallen overlord. Husk pinched his face in disgust and slammed the bottle in his hand on the bar. "That's fuckin it! I've had to listen to his psychotic rambling all night and I'm sure as shit not dealing with your bullshit now too. Make your own drinks I'm fuckin' outta here..." Husk swiped a bottle of gin and wandered off down the hall, flipping the pair off as he took a large swig from the bottle.

"Boooo! You're no fun!" Angel yelled after him. He pouted for a second, his favorite play thing slamming the bedroom door, but then he remembered he wasn't the only one left at the bar alone. "Well, well, well," Angel sighed, shifting his attention to the demon sitting at the other end of the bar "Guess that just leaves you an' me." Alastor peered at him from the corner of his eye, shockingly casual, resting his cheek against his left palm while his right kept a loose but firm hold on the crystal tumbler in his hand. 

His eyes were more relaxed than Angel had ever seen, and his usual sickly grin was replaced with a lazy smile, a chuckle sitting on his lips. "You really know how to clear a room, my fine fellow." Alastor snickered into his glass. A frown quickly crossed Angels face as he took a long drink from the cocktail Husk had made before leaving, but he was enjoying himself and quickly grinned leaning in closer. "Maybe I just wanted ta be alone with you, doll face..." He turned towards the Radio Demon crossing his legs and leaning an elbow over the bar, opening his body and rolling a finger around the rim of his own drink. Alastor quirked a brow and chuckled again "Is that so?" He grinned wide, staring wistfully at the bottles lining the back of the bar "I think you’ll find I have a very….” He looked into his glass of rye “particular type." the demon chuckled darkly and took another drink from his glass, smiling fondly at the tumbler as he set it back down on the bar. 

Not one to be rejected and emboldened by booze, Angel downed the rest of his drink and stood up, he marched over to the demon and kicking his leg over Alastor's head, rest it on the demon’s shoulder. Sliding himself onto his lap, Angel pressed his groin down on top of Alastor's letting out a gentle moan. The deer demon looked down and then up into Angel's pink eyes with his own smoldering red, smiling wider than Angel had seen all night. “Is that you saying you don’t want me?” Angel asked softly, tilting his head to the side and lowering his eyes coyly, playing with Alastor's lapels with one pair of arms and toying with the hair at his neck with the other. The deers ear twitched and he wrapped his claws around Angels hips, digging his fingers into his sides while lifting him off of his lap, placing him onto the bar.

Leaning in, Alastor stood from his seat and kept one hand on Angel's hip while grabbing the rest of his whiskey from behind him. Angel watched as the overlord closed his eyes and swallowed the last of his drink. Letting out a content sigh, Alastor stared down at his own hand, thumb lazily rubbing circles onto Angel's hip, sending chills through the spiders body "No mon chere," he cooed, leaning closer to Angel's face, tilting his to ghost over the curve of his cheek with his own, he drew a gasp from Angel "It's a warning." he smirked as he leaned in almost touching Angel with his lips. He chuckled dark and low against Angel's neck, causing him to shudder and Alastor to tumble into a rolling manic laughter as he began to fade into wisps of black smoke. The black tendrils of smoke floated through the floor, as his form faded he cackled and dissipated into nothing, leaving Angel sitting alone on the bar, Alastor's laugh echoing in the halls. 

Angel let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, what the fuck was that? How did he survive that act of sheer idiocy and... Did... Did Alastor really just flirt back?? "There's no way..." Angel mumbled to himself, but he couldn't stop thinking about Alastor's thumb, caressing him and how close he was to his face, the smell of whiskey on his breath drifting across Angel’s face with every word he spoke… Mon Chere... Angel blushed and shivered, whatever that was it had to have been a fluke. Or was it more? He figured he would grab a bottle and further mull this over in his room, he was a bit worked up after whatever THAT was. He scoffed and laughed to himself, he seriously never thought he would be rushing to his bedroom to keep thinking about that red and black lunatic, but there was something different about Alastor tonight, and it piqued Angel's curiosity.

—

Angel’s fingers drunkenly danced along the walls as he lazily walked towards his room. He took a long drink from the bottle he’d grabbed from the bar and rest his body against the wall thinking back to earlier with Alastor. He could still feel where he had grabbed him, could still feel the warmth of his body underneath him. Angel drunkenly looked down the hall, his bedroom was just across the way where he planned on running his hands all over his body pretending they were someone else's, but Alastor’s room was only a couple of doors down… he remembered the horned demon not saying no when Angel offered himself, just giving a warning. “Ha!” He laughed out loud, no offense but after everything he’d been through with Val, Angel was pretty sure he could handle whatever weird kink Alastor had. “Could be hot.” Angel smirked as he took another long drink from the bottle and sauntered down the hall. 

Standing at Alastor's door filled him with a sense of dread. It was somehow darker near his room than the others, like the candles didn't dare spread their light too close. He had marched up to the wooden frame resolute on pounding down the door until Alastor let him in, but now all of his courage had disappeared and he was left worrying his lip and wringing his fingers. He took another drink and straightened his clothes, what if he was just fucking with him and didn’t want him here? He seemed pretty inviting before... Angel brought his thumb to his mouth. Chewing on his nail, the sinner stared at the door. “Fuck it.” He decided after a long pause and taking a deep breath, raised his hand to knock on the door.

“Good evening my spidery friend!” Alastor's chipper voice sliced through Angel's anxiety and startled him before he could even strike, sending the bottle crashing to the ground and him tumbling into the door. He quickly straightened himself and spun around eyeing the demon, standing there smug as always. It would have annoyed Angel if he wasn't so invested in the idea of breaking him, "Whatever can I help you with at this hour?" Alastor tilted his head grinning with teeth. Angel put on his best performance, pushing his elbows in to puff up his chest and lowering his eyes. Looking up through dark lashes, "I think we both know what I want...." Angel smirked reaching out towards the demon’s twisted grin. Before he could reach him though, Alastor took a large step in and slammed a hand into the wall next to Angel, startling him and pinning him against the door. His grin looked like a snarl and his breath was ragged, eyes glowing ever so slightly. "Then ask for it my dear." Alastor instructed through the broken static, clearly fighting through a hunger in his voice. Angel shivered at the command, "Fine," he let out a shaky breath and looked Alastor in the eye "I want….” He straighten his back and raised his face defiantly “I want you to fuck me. Do whatever you want to me." Angel blushed at having to say it out loud, he felt his stomach tighten and his mouth go dry, but he looked Alastor in the eye all the same. In a swift motion Alastor leaned back, removing his arm from the wall and placing it behind his back. 

Alastor stood there as usual, signature grin plastered wide on his face, but there was something different behind it, something feral. The hallway felt colder, the shadows were longer and his left eye was flickering - a pupil and then a dial, his right eye was blood red and murderous staring straight into Angel’s. Angel swallowed silently and shifted uncomfortably resting his back against the wooden door. They’d never stood this close before tonight, he could smell him for the first time - a heady mix of cold moss and raging bonfire and… something metallic... bourbon? No... stale blood. The realization made him shiver. Just as he was about to speak the radio demon chuckled deep and low. “Alright then,” The demon took a large step forward immediately invading Angels space and leaving only a hairs width between them “If you insist.” No static, no act - only Alastor’s dark caramel voice dripping from his fangs.

Angels eye popped wide in his surprise. 

Being completely honest he never thought he would get this far, he didn’t have a clue what a night with Alastor would entail, though his body desperately wanted to be under his. Realistically he was a bit scared, but in too deep to back out now. As quickly as he could manage, his shock became smug and he gathered his bravado enough to smile back, “Ha! ‘bout time. I was beginning ta wonder if you even had a dick at all.” Angel smirked and tried to read Alastor’s face to see if his goading was working, but as usual he was impossible to read. Nothing changed on his sinister face, but he did notice that Alastor's antlers had grown.

Instead of the smaller, often hard to see through his hair pair, they were now a full set of towering sharp antlers, like a twisted crown. Other than his horns he was still standing there, hands behind his back, staff in hand, smiling. It intimidated Angel but he doubled down, “Ain’t ya goin’ to sweep me off my feet, and ravage me proper, Daddy?”  Angel pouted placing a set of hands on his hips and rubbing his chest with the other, running his hands down his chest he began to slowly peel off his jacket, looking coyly at the buck.This pulled another low and terrifying chuckle from the Radio Demon. It would be sexy if there wasn’t something deadly laced in his laugh, like a sinister melody that stoked a burning fire deep in Angels stomach, and a fear. “No no, after you my darling. After all,” he leaned in, suddenly closer if possible, Alastor’s lips lightly brushing the back of Angels cheek, his breath tickling the fur on his neck, the static and cheery tone gone from his voice, now only a gentle purr “I love a good show from any angle.” 

A deep shiver ran through Angels body. He noticed Alastor was now further back, studying him. The grin had turned into a smirk, and his eyes were soft. His flickering eye has stopped, though the dial has stayed and his antlers now glowed wistfully with his acid green magic. His eyes slowly dance over Angels curves, finally meeting his in a dare. Angel couldn’t look away, he’s enthralled, scared, but the fire has burned into an inferno deep in his stomach and he can feel an ache to be touched, to be filled. Accepting the dare in Alastor’s eyes, he turned around slowly, rubbing his body on the door, grinding his hips and caressing the frame, if its a show he wants a show he’ll get. Angel gazed back over his shoulder, two hands rubbing the wood of the door, two hands toying with the hem of his shirt, slowly pulling it up as he watched the radio demon stare. Alastor's eyes were now both glowing red dials, his antlers had grown darker, larger and more threatening. A cold fog filled the hallway and Angel could see his thick shadow tentacles reaching and crawling on the wall behind him. Writhing, slowly inching towards him from where the radio demon stood, hands behind his back, staff in hand, smiling that terrible sickening, stitched smile.

Angel looked away letting out a shuddering breath, he slowly reached for the doorknob with a shaking hand, he was beyond touch starved and needed to have Alastor's sharp hands on his body now. Angel blushed into the door, embarrassed to be panting and undone like this in front of the demon, but he couldn’t help that he melts under his stare. He can’t help that he wants to fuck that smile off his face and see his mouth twisted in a panting, begging, sweating mess. His mouth… with a ragged breath he twisted the brass knob and looked back one last time to make sure this wasn’t a joke - pink eyes meet red, burning red, dripping fangs with a bright sickening green glow from behind the fog. “Fuck” angel breathes, and turned around, facing Alastor with a half lidded smirk, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the side, throwing himself back into the door as it swung open, into Alastor's bedroom.

Except he isn’t in a bedroom. Immediately, as Angel crossed the threshold into Alastor’s room, everything disappeared as if a light had been turned off and now he was alone, standing in the middle of a forest. His eyes darted around, begging to find something familiar, but there was no hallway, no bed, no door, no Alastor. Just Angel, standing alone in a small muddy thicket of trees near a clearing, shirtless. He could hear birds and It was bright out, maybe twilight? Dawn? He couldn’t tell, fuck he didn’t even know what the hell was going on. His body was still on fire from just a second ago and now he was alone, in the middle of some forest, at some time of day, horny and confused. He blinked and then sneered “Arggghhh FUCK!” Angel threw his arms up and kicked angrily at a pile of leaves “FUCK YOU ALASTOR!!” He screamed with all of his body into the trees. Save for the sound of birds chirping in the distance and the sounds of his own panting, there was no reply, no echo, not even rustling in the leaves. Moments passed, Angel’s panting slowed and eventually he caught his breath, but his frustration was slowly starting to turn into unease. He had no idea where he was and no idea how to find out. 

“You still can my boy!” 

Angel jumped, Alastor's signature chipper voice broke through the silence of the forest from behind him, but when he turned around he didn’t see anyone. “WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON ALASTOR? WHERE THE FUCK AM I?” He screamed, eyes darting from tree to tree, spinning and trying to see where he was. “Over here my darling!” Angel walked forward a ways through bushes and over stones until finally his eyes landed on a twisted old tree, gnarled wood reaching out at grotesque angles, bare of any leaves. Its twisted veining bark was black and gray, a millipede crawling from one knot in the wood to another, a skull of some small animal at the base of its roots. “Hellooo? Is this thing on?” Angels eyes darted up the tree to a small mantle radio. It was old like all of Alastor's radios, this one looked like it was some sort of cherry wood with brass filigree. It’d been stuffed into a roughly gouged out hole in the tree, gaps filled with twigs and leaves, sewn into the tree through the bark with thick sinewy thread. Demonic symbols carved into the surrounding wood glowed with Alastor’s vermillion magic.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Angel screamed, fear sneaking into his voice.

“I know you’re any easy catch, but I tend to be a bit of a hopeless romantic myself,” the radio blared, Angel frowned. “And nothing gets the blood pumping more than a romantic hunt!” Alastor chirped through the static. Angel crossed all of his arms throughly annoyed, “You mean a romantic chase?” 

“But of course! What did I say?” Angel rolled his eyes as the radio continued

“Now I’ll hide and you seek, I do so LOVE the chase!” Another dark rolling chuckle comes from the demon as the broadcast ends, Alastor's manic laughter filling the forest with a unholy echo as the green glow from the symbols faded, leaving nothing but scarred gray wood and silence.

[brilyyy]

[brilyyy]

Mycorrhizae - a symbiotic association between plant roots and fungi.

[brilyyy]

a couple a’ little stinkers 💫 🔥