Work Text:
Vox and Valentino were striding down the streets of Hell, Val typing away at his phone and Vox gazing down at his nails when they heard the distant scream of agony that cut quickly off into watery gurgles.
“Oh?” Vox asked, interested in something that might serve as entertainment while Val barely blinked at the sound. “What’s that?”
“Sounds like Hell’s got another cannibal,” Val replied, shrugging.
“Should we check it out?” Vox asked. “Could be a new pet.” he beamed. “Or a third member of our little relationship.”
Val sighed and slipped his phone away into his coat. “Whatever.”
They followed the sounds of ripping flesh into an alleyway between buildings where they found a horribly thin demon leaning over a corpse, ripping into it with teeth even sharper than Valentino’s.
At the sound of their approach, the demon lifted his head and growled , shifting to defend his meal whilst staring at them with fear in his blood red eyes, red and black hair wild and tangled, two little antlers barely visible amongst the crazy strands.
“Hey there little guy,” Vox cooed, creeping towards the little demon whilst Val watched from the mouth of the alley. The demon growled again but Vox remained unphased. “Welcome to Hell, buddy. He paused when it looked like the demon was about to lunge at him and instead asked, “Can you speak?”
“You should ask if it can even understand you,” Val muttered from behind.
Vox hummed in agreement. “Do you know what I’m saying?” he asked.
“ S̸̨̧͍̗̉̍̎͛͊͝t̷̡̟̣̯͌̒̎̚͘å̶̲̙͔̈́̽̔̏y̶̛̠̻̖͙̝̒͘ ̸̠͈͝ḁ̷̢̡͖̭̭̯̦͛̈́̉̎̽̈́̌̋w̸̨̬̼̬̙͕̿̃̀̎̽͗̈́̀̈́â̸̭͕͆̐y̸͔͕̹̩̤̐̊̿ͅ!̷̡̘̜͓̝̱̮͓̭̌̀̂̽̐͂̄̏ ” The demon snarled, startling Vox.
The TV demon blinked at the other, the cannibal's voice so garbled in static that Vox just had no idea what he had even said. He took a risk then with turning his back on the demon to glance at Val who was merely watching with a confused expression over the top of his glasses.
“What the fuck?” the pimp asked blandly.
Vox shrugged, before something came to mind. “Wait, that’s kinda like a radio, right?” he asked, glancing back at the demon before backing away. As soon as he was out of what the new demon clearly considered ‘danger zone’ (approximately five feet away), the little cannibal turned all his attention back to the meat in front of him and began ripping into it.
“I guess,” Val replied. “What of it?”
“I think I’ve got an idea,” Vox replied. “What year is it upstairs?”
“Fuck if I know.”
“Well, keep watch on him,” Vox ordered, adjusting his suit. “I’ll be back in a second.”
And then he was gone, leaving Val with the starving cannibal that was already eyeing him up as though considering him a potential second meal.
…………..
Vox returned at least two hours later, during which Val had more than willingly sacrificed three demons passing by to the starving one in the back of the alley, his pale skin now soaked in their blood and gore.
“You took your time,” Val muttered when Vox finally returned.
“Took longer than I liked to cash in a few favors,” Vox replied, before brandishing the object in his hand. “What do you think?”
Val gave it a bored once over. “What is it?” he asked, shifting his glasses on his face.
Vox beamed. “It’s a microphone,” he replied.
“So?”
“Well, he kinda sounded like radio static, so this’ll help to filter out some of that feedback,” Vox explained. “Sounded like a broken radio. I did some research, asked around, and it sounds like our little buddy’s been down here for awhile, since about 1933, whatever that means. They liked the radio back then, so voila!” He happily presented the staff. “A microphone!”
Val only grunted and shrugged, turning back to his phone while Vox faced the bloody demon who had backed himself into a corner, scowling at Vox and growling low in his throat.
“Here ya go, little buddy,” Vox said, approaching the demon and placing the microphone inside his reach before backing away. “This should help with some of those distortion issues.”
The demon merely looked at him before reaching out and snatching up the microphone, an ear splitting feedback whine emanating from the face of it before it finally fell silent, the static that had been surrounding the demon slowly fading into nothing.
When the demon did nothing but weigh the microphone in his hand, Vox asked. “What do you think?”
The demon merely blinked before asking, “Where am I?” His voice completely clear and decipherable at last, though it did still seem to hold onto that slight radio twang. Ah well, as long as Vox knew what the fuck he was saying.
“You’re in Hell! Pentagram City, home to the worst of the worst!” He announced, throwing his arms wide. “My name is Vox and this is Val. What’s yours?”
The demon shifted on his heels, thinking for a few moments (upon arrival to Hell, Earth memories were often difficult to recall for a short period of time) before finally replying,
“Anthony.”
Vox hummed, tapping his face for a moment before shaking his head. “Nope, won’t do,” he decided. “You need something scary . You’re a demon after all.” While the demon looked down at himself, Vox took a few moments to think before snapping his fingers. “We’ll call you Alastor.”
That got Val’s attention. “Why?” he asked.
“Why not?” Vox replied. “He’s our pet and we want people to be scared of him. Alastor means ‘spirit of revenge’ which is what he’s going to get for us if anyone tries to challenge our power.”
“Sounds useful,” Val decided.
“Then it’s settled!” Vox declared before turning to the newly named ‘Alastor’. “Come on then, little buddy. Let’s get you settled and trained .”
…………….
Several hours later found the three of them in Val’s penthouse, Alastor cleaned up at last and dressed in a lovely red suit that matched his now clean hair and eyes.
He stood in the middle of the home, idly twirling the microphone around his fingers, confidence clear in the difference between how he held himself now versus how they had found him cowering in a random alley of Hell.
“Well?” Val asked, lounging on the couch with a smirk in place as Vox finished fluffing up Alastor’s hair. “What do you think?”
“I think he looks great,” Vox decided before stepping in front of Alastor. “Now we just have to work on the intimidation factor.” he paused, thinking, before tapping Alastor’s chin. “Smile for me.” The demon did so, but Vox just shook his head. “No, a little wider.” He still wasn’t satisfied, so he produced a mirror and held it up in front of the little red demon. “Smile like…” he thought for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Smile like you’re planning on all the ways you could eat someone.” This time, Alastor’s eyes narrowed and his smile grew. “Perfect,” Vox declared, summoning a servant over to offer the still hungry demon a juicy piece of meat which Alastor promptly devoured in a matter of minutes. “Now. let’s see what kind of powers you possess.”
…………….
Decades passed with Alastor serving as Vox and Val’s loyal little attack pet. After a few days of getting used to them, he came out of his shell and became positively chatty , always having something to say and someone to mock and berate.
The perfect little demon, really. Looking at him, one would never imagine he had been practically feral for his first few years as a demon before they claimed him.
After a few years, as a reward for his continued obedience, Vox and Val gifted him with his very own radio tower on the edge of Pentagram City, where he was more than welcome to remain unless they called and required his services. They even had it all set up so he could make his very own radio broadcasts all through Hell, though he didn’t seem to have much interest in that, surprisingly.
…………….
Val entered the penthouse, finding Alastor talking nonstop to Vox who was watching him and nodding, allowing their little pet to entertain himself to his heart’s desire.
“Hello little stag,” Val greeted, his nickname for the red demon, after noting Alastor’s odd similarity towards the Earth-bound creature. Both he adn Vox had assumed that a deer must have been somehow related to Alastor’s death, though their little pet had never bothered to confirm nor deny the assumptions and in fact, had not once mentioned his own mortal death to them to that day.
Val patted Alastor on the head, between the antlers, unaware of the scowl that the red demon sent him, completely ignoring the slight increase of static, for only a moment, since Alastor always made noises like that. So much so that it had become practically background noise for Vox and Val, whenever their pet was around.
“Now run along while Val and I have a private talk,” Vox said from the couch.
As soon as Alastor faded into the shadows, off to his radio tower to entertain himself however he did when he was there, Val shifted and remarked,
“He’s too powerful.”
Vox sighed. “Yes,” he agreed, straightening on the couch. “I know.”
“He killed Risora without even lifting a finger.”
“I am aware,” Vox said through gritted teeth. “I was there.”
“We need to kill him before he decides it would be more beneficial to turn on us instead of our targets,” Val went on.
“I know ,” Vox snarled, before huffing and shaking his head. After a few moments of thought, he asked, “Wasn’t there an angel corpse, somewhere in the city?”
“Maybe,” Val agreed. “Why?”
“Al never bothers to look before consuming what we feed him,” Vox replied. “And consuming the flesh of an angel-”
“Would destroy him,” Val agreed. “Very well. I’ll send someone to fetch it in the morning, then we’ll call him in.”
……………
The next day they woke to utter chaos, the city in turmoil as their own little pet that they had raised and trained utterly destroyed Overlords who had been in power for centuries, rising to the top to be in just as much control of turf as they were.
“That little bitch turned on us,” Val snarled, scowling out the window at the city below, as Alastor’s carnage played on the radio in the corner, the Hell named ‘Radio Demon’ broadcasting to the whole city as he destroyed Overlord after Overlord with barely a scratch upon his own coat.
“We can’t kill him now,” Vox said. “He’ll see us as a threat the moment we even try and approach him.”
“If we don’t kill him , he’ll kill us,” Val remarked.
“You’ve seen his power, Valentino,” Vox told him. “If he plans to bring us down, we won’t even see him coming .”
Silence fell over the penthouse, other than the screams emanating from the radio until Vox finally flicked his wrist and destroyed the cursed piece of technology. Eventually, Val shifted to take a seat on the couch, adjusting his coat before remarking.
“Well, he’s been on this rampage since sometime last night and he has yet to come for us. Perhaps we’re not on his list of meals .” He scowled at the television demon. “I told you not to pick him up.”
“You said no such thing,” Vox snarled. “As I recall, you didn't give much of a shit when we found him and had little interest at all in paying him any attention.”
Val just huffed. “So what’s the plan then?” he asked.
“As long as he doesn’t come to us,” Vox said. “Let’s just watch this unfold for now. Besides, if he can topple Overlords, an Overlord can topple him.”
“Ignoring the fact that these Overlords are centuries old and Alastor is barely five decades.”
Val noly hummed, looking down at his phone before remarking, “Looks here like no one in the city even realized he existed, before last night. They’re saying he manifested out of nowhere.”
“Well,” Vox remarked. “As long as no one knows that he’s our fault.”
“We should have killed him as soon as we found him.”
“Yes. I completely agree.”