crunchygranolamilk

[crunchygranolamilk]

Chapter 1 - Out Early

TW: Implied SA, Homicide, Gore, Kidnapping

---This is the first chapter of an angsty fic I am writing with Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Emily (Hazbin Hotel). Both characters are AU/fannon. ---

Her hips scraped against the mud soaked burweed and blunted pebbles she was heaved into the backwoods. She deserved this. Those words repeated internally, her focus only interrupted by shooting pains as her captor yanked her wrists. She didn't fight him. She didn't want to. 

Glimpses of twilight speckled the twisting silhouettes of the cottonwood and oak above her. Robert and Dorothy. They would love this. She let her mind dream of teaching Dotty about the golden hour, trusting that Dotty in turn would repeat it to her baby brother. A felled branch dragged across her spine causing her to grit her teeth. It must be just after 5. They are safe with memaw. They'll be better off this way. 

Her captor finally pulled her through a clearing. The ferns and saplings around her nicked her shoulders while her knees sank into shifting earth. Now she could see him, slender and tall. His sinuous hands gripped the handle of an axe. The waning moonlight hid his features. 

"After much ado," he mussed his wild hair, "let us begin." He tugged the bottom of his shirt before returning both hands to his axe. "Emily. You've been terribly clumsy about all this."

"How--," she froze. She could accept divine retribution at the hands of a stranger for what she had done. A deranged madman unwittingly dispensing justice. That would be the Lord's sense of humor. She was careful in her clean up. Not even the priest could be called to question. So, who the hell was this?

"Ah-ah," he cut her off as he knelt before her, leaning on the head of his axe like a cane. "This is a monologue, darling. Don't step on my line." 

With him this close she could finally make out his face– teeth barred, eyes narrowed, reeking of Dapper Dan. Still, she had no recollection of her executioner. 

"You never struck me as a murderess," he chuckled. "You were pure doe-eyes and all platitudes when last we met. A decade can really do a girl wonders! Unfortunately for yourself," he leaned in close enough for her to smell the rye on his breath, "your little  experiment with mariticide has tangled our paths once again." Standing, he began a deliberate pace in his miniature round. This stage set to feature the rest of their lives. "Mimzy's brother was a bit of a rakehell, and was certainly a mechanic at the table. Surely that wasn't reason to cause my dear friend's heart to break."

Mimzy. Emily should have known Robert’s conniving shylock of a sister would figure it out. She knew what her brother was capable of, what kind of misery he'd put her through. Yet she still sent her button man. 

"Finally catching up?" Biting his lower lip, Alastor breathed a satisfied hum. "That makes it so much better for me." Emily's eyes followed the axe blade as Alastor wound up for the swing. Her ears filled with the thrum of her still beating heart. 

A rustling came from beyond the weeds causing both captor and captive to turn. Whatever was moving towards them carried itself with a deliberate gate. Alastor crouched and held a finger to his lips. With misguided faith, Emily obeyed. Then came snarling. 

Two dark mongrels leapt from the surrounding thickets. One latched onto Alastor's leg, the other to his neck. Alastor swung his axe desperately, only feeling contact with one blow. He screamed and fought until the spray from a shotgun ripped into his back. A sharp whistle cut through the air and the dogs heeled reflexively. Alastor, laid out on the earth, forced his mind to spin a tale that would paint himself a hero. Surely fellow hunters would understand. 

Unfortunately for himself, these were fellow monsters. The burly one entered the clearing first. Alastor watched him kneel over Emily. He ran his dirty finger down the center of her chest. Glancing between Alastor and Emily, he mused, "we find a lovers spat?" The man laughed and yelled towards Emily's face, "You there, miss?" 

Alastor took a moment to criticize his handiwork. What a shame. Slanted. Jagged. He could have done so much better. He followed the wound from her hair line, through her right eye, all the way to the tip of her nose. Her left pupil was fixed and dilated. The effort he put into his craft was wasted. 

She blinked. 

Shit.

"Shit. She's dead as a damn doornail," a similarly built man stepped into the clearing. "This is a damn mess. What the hell we gonna do now?"

The first man's sardonic laugh repulsed Alastor. "Gee. We got ourselves a sweet thing like this fallen in our laps and you gotta ask what to do with it?" His stubby fingers moved to the hem of Emily's dress. He stroked her inner thigh.  

Alastor realized the extent of his injuries when he tried to speak up. Beyond uncoordinated facial tics, he was incapacitated by the birdshot. Nothing would undo the damage. His stirring was enough to rouse a jump from the second man. "Damnit, boy! The hell you mean by not announcing yourself!" 

"Aw, leave him," said the first man. Then, he looked Alastor in the eye, "here's what it is: you got yourself a pretty little girlfriend here, boy. I ain't about to let this brass ring go to waste. I'll grant you the kindness of watching a man get it done. And if you're real good and quiet, I'll think about puttin' you down instead of letting you spill out." He laughed that sickening laugh again and started unbuttoning his overalls. 

Alastor stayed fixed on Emily’s eye, dreading any movement. He had only intended to settle Mimzy's score. Allowing those leches to carry on was disgraceful. 

Neither Emily nor Alastor saw the sunrise. 

---THANK YOU FOR READING THIS FAR! I'm open to suggestions, although I was super nervous to post! I have this planned out for 3 parts. Hoping to host on AO3 soon. ---