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theotherdeerinhell · 5 months

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The Doe in the Alleyway

I'm making a fanfiction about Rabo, because of course I am. Anyways, here's the first chapter in full. It's at 1.5k words, but since the last paragraph leads to a small timeskip, it's just a good place to end the first chapter. Get hyped up for this fun little thing!

Chapters will be posted to Tumblr as made. It will be posted to Wattpad, AO3, and Toyhouse on a weekly basis once it's complete.

Warning: The chapter consists of misgendering, a female getting a top torn off, mutilation, stabbing, and mentions of blood.

There is a reason why Fiona is a deer, and it's not because she licked salt or grazed on grass. No, it's because she ended up in Hell through the same situation she is finding her way in right now. Her hooves hit the floor with every swift stride, and her breaths prove to be challenges on their own. Fiona has been running for so long, she feels like she could collapse at any moment. But no. She will not let her pursuers get to her. Not this time. She knows that letting them win would be a death sentence.

Fiona stumbles when she finds a wall in her path. Its eyes glare back at her. Fiona takes a couple steps back. She turns around to keep running, but the demons are already blocking the only way out. Their sickly and perverted grins reveal the golden tooth they all share. It is a reminder that they are all there because their master did not acquire what he so desperately wanted. Fiona crosses her arms to cover her big breasts pushing against the fabric of her black goth dress. She clasps her shoulders with her hands and slouches. Just the way they stare down her curves makes Fiona uncomfortable in her skin in a deep way.

"It looks like the little doe finally met her dead end." A vulture-like demon stalks up to her. A ginger cat and a sinner with a mosquito-like nose follow behind him. They take their time in their approach. They know there is nothing Fiona can do about them. These goons may be weaklings themselves, but she is even weaker. Any power she has is just late in manifestation. Fiona backs herself up against the wall as they draw closer. Fiona bares her vampire fangs and growls.

"You could've had this be easy, toots. All you had to do was let Valentino have his way." The vulture grabs Fiona with his friends. They all hold her still. Fiona squirms and cries out with all her might. The goons don't even stop her. They know that nobody will come save her. This is Hell, after all. People only mind their own business. Anyone who meddles are usually dead within a matter of days. It's cruel, but that is the status quo. The cat takes a hammer out of her pocket and kneels down.

"Such pretty hooves," She purrs, "Polished black and shimmering in the streetlight. Perhaps I'll take a shard as a souvenir." The feline grabs a hoof and holds it down. She raises her hammer and strikes it with all her might. The hoof shatters into pieces. It brings about a pain that is more intense than anything Fiona has ever felt. She cries out while her other hoof meets the same shattered fate. The goons drop Fiona.

Standing is much too painful. It shoots a sense of agony up her legs and to her brain. Fiona collapses. Her black eyeliner runs from the tears. This is it. She can't escape. She is about to die again. It can't end this way, not this soon. But that is not Fiona's choice to make. It never is.

"How about we see what's hiding underneath that pretty dress?" The vulture snickers. He grabs Fiona's dress and pulls it right off, exposing everything that creeps like these three would want to see. Fiona can feel their eyes staring at her harder. She tries to cover herself, but the vulture grabs her wrists tightly. "There is no point in you trying to protect yourself now~ You have no hope. No friends, no feet...just us, and my friend's blessed knife." Fiona looks behind the vulture to see what he's talking about. Indeed, the mosquito is holding a knife that shines white. Fiona cries out again. Her desperation grows stronger, but there is nothing she can do as the knife pierces her flesh. Red blood spills out as soon as the knife is pulled out.

Fiona screams again when the knife makes another puncture. The torture is endless, even if it's just for a minute. All of her vital organs are missed, but Fiona can tell that that is the point. Nobody in this group want to give her a quick death. Perhaps such a thing wouldn't be entertaining enough for them. The pain stops coming after some point. The goons drop her and snicker at the state they have put Fiona in.

"The bitch's already dead," The vulture tells his comrades, "Let's get going and tell the boss. She got exactly what she deserved." The other two nod their heads and leave the alleyway.

Fiona sits alone in the dark. She has no choice but to feel the agony and let exhaustion wash over her. Would she even be able to heal from angelic steel-induced wounds if she survived by some miracle? Staying awake is becoming increasingly difficult, but a sound makes her ears perk up. Three screams that sound so much like her killers. Fiona loos up. A shadow tendril waves half of a body in the air. Green electricity crackles through the thick wriggling shape of darkness. Could it be...?

Fiona slumps down. What is the point in guessing? She'll be dead by the time her savior finds her. She may as well give in now. Yet, that small sparkle of hope keeps her awake. So when the handsome buck clad in vintage red comes walking in, Fiona is in awe at the sight. For not only is the demon the same species as her, but he is the very manifestation of her dream self. He brushes some dust off his tattered coat, and the yellow sharp-toothed grin plastered on his face grows.

"I must apologize for being late, my dear." His voice oozes with charisma as he speaks, it's almost familiar to Fiona's dying ears, "But I was in the middle of lunch. Though, those lackeys did make for a fine dinner."

The male kneels down to take a closer look at Fiona. He tilts his head when he finds that the demons didn't even give her the decency of a full outfit. And the state of her hooves - her feet are practically stumps with how damaged they are. This doe is a beautiful one, he can tell. Perhaps if she wasn't so young, she'd be the one he's interested in. Letting her die would be a waste. So he snaps his fingers and lets a blanket appear around her. The demon wraps it around the fragile body gingerly in an effort to return some sense of dignity to her.

Fiona opens her eyes when she feels a blanket tightly wrapped around her and a pair of arms lifting hr up. She takes a good look at the one who is taking her to somewhere unknown. It's still that handsome buck. But is he here to save her? Even with her own uncertainty, Fiona has no choice but to find out.

The male approaches the staircase of the recently rebuilt Hazbin Hotel. It is grander than it ever was, and the building is no longer on the brink of collapse. There are still not many residents looking for redemption. Most of the sinners the man walks past in the lobby were either already there, or they are people who came in seeking sanctuary. While being a refuge was not the owner's intention with the hotel, it is a consequence of it being neutral ground. Nobody has to worry about regular squabbles during their stay, so the injured and the weak live there. The only condition upheld is that they do have to go through the rehabilitation program. And as prideful as all sinners can be, most of them would rather be redeemed than dead. He comes up to the front desk, where Charlie herself is sorting through the room keys. She looks up to the sight of her "friend."

"Oh! Alastor!" Charlie pipes up, "I see you're back from your errands." She looks down at the female deer in his arms. The poor thing is leaving blood everywhere, and she's barely clinging on to life. "A-and I see that your friend there needs medical intervention."

"Don't you worry." Static crackles and pops when Alastor speaks, "From the way she is fighting death, I can tell this one is strong. Her damage is nothing I can't mend, but if you don't mind, the time window I have to ensure her survival is increasingly short. I will require the emergency kit at the back there."

Charlie hurriedly turns and gathers the kit, "Right! Right! This is no time to chat. That person is dying." Charlie turns back around and hands the kit to Alastor.

"Thank you dearly." With that, Alastor navigates his way to the elevators. Charlie is absolutely grinning behind his back. Could this be it? Is the hotel finally making Alastor crack? No, it can't be. He has plans for that poor demon. Favors like what he's currently doing always have strings attached to them. But what would those strings be? A soul contract? A favor in return for what he has done? Charlie will find out soon, though she is not looking forward to what horror awaits that innocent soul.

#fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #oc #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel #dad au #oh deer #hazbin hotel alastor

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