Work Text:
Vox hates getting blood on his hands with a passion. Mostly because he hates dealing with Velvette yelling at him for staining his clothes because it’s a “pain in the ass to get the blood out of the fabric.” But he has had enough of that wickedly charismatic radio demon. His days are numbered, even if Vox has to get his hands dirty.
He hates that smiling-wearing demon, always being a prick. He is strong, too! He can kill that demon if he wanted to! And he will. This is the last of that demon; he and the other Vees will be one step closer to running Hell. He just needs to get Alastor alone, which is another story. He could send a note, but that pompous asshole can travel via shadows, and he can only travel via cameras. He needs to figure out how to get him alone.
Knowing getting Alastor alone is like getting Valentino out of bed on a Sunday morning, he decides to go outside and walk. He downs the last of his coffee and tells his workers to not let Valentino burn the place down again. He goes outside, smelling the stale air. Sometimes he hates Hell, but he can’t do much about it. He puts shades on and strolls down the streets, ignoring the fans who want to fuck him. He’s hot, yes, but he’s not in the mood for that right now.
Pulling out his phone, he checks on the local news. Word of Alastor’s disappearance, following Extermination Day, is all that has been on the news. And it pisses him off. He knows Alastor; the damn radio demon has never backed from a fight. But he also knows that he has never gotten injured, at least in Hell. Of course he would be a pussy and retreat as soon as he gets one little scratch. He threw a fit when Alastor retreated, as he wanted to watch the scum die. But he does have to wonder why Alastor is still missing. Typically, he’d use his magic to heal his scars and come back with that beautiful—wait, beautiful? He is not beautiful! His smile is just… pretty. And his ears look so soft… and his voice is so mesmerizing, like a siren… no! Why is he thinking that? He hates Alastor! He’d wipe that pretty smile off his face and enjoy it! Right?
He growls and ends up breaking his phone in his hands out of irritation. Alastor isn’t just a pretty face; he’s a dealmaker. He’s evil, just like every other denizen of Hell. He’s a cannibalistic serial killer who loves murder, blood, and reminding everyone that he is very powerful and to not mess with him. That’s why Vox hates him; he is an egocentric piece of shit! Hell, even he doesn’t always think of only him! His smile is just a facade to hide his…
Pain. Just like Vox smiles through the sadness. Vox groans loudly and decides to go get a drink. He goes to a bar and orders a strong shot. He takes his time with sipping on it to savor the taste, even if it won’t help much. The chatter in the bar usually bores him, but this time he finds himself intrigued. A couple of demons are speaking about none other than Alastor. He decides to tune in on the conversation.
They have seen Alastor. And he was in… Cannibal Town? Yeesh, he knows Alastor is a cannibal, but why hang around those… freaks? He decides to check it out so he pays for his drink and leaves. He walks to Cannibal Town and there stands Alastor, alongside some Victorian-era chick who is taller than him. He can only see his backside but his tail flickers and his ears twitch upwards. Almost as if… he can sense Vox being there.
He turns around; Vox almost shudders. Alastor is grinning so wide that he might tear his skin and blood runs from his mouth. When Alastor opens his mouth and speaks, Vox even flinches from the tone. “Hello… Vox.”