Chapter Text
If anyone would dare to ask, Alastor may name from 1 to 32 reasons why Vox irked him to no end. Yet, in every list he’d created, one particular would be present: mind-controlling ability. Now, the ability itself wasn’t the real issue, oh no. It was the manner in which that blasted picture box chose to use it.
You see, Alastor was an advocate of free will. Take, for instance, a deer escaping a hunter. That deer exercises its freedom to flee and maybe even save itself. Likewise, the hunter with the rifle in hand has a choice to pursue the deer or to let it go. This little dance of freedom was just one of many reasons why he considered hell the perfect place for himself.
The way Vox was using his power, effectively robbed poor souls of that devil-send liberty, thus desecrating the very foundation upon which hell was built.
Alastor was a man of order, mind you, though his interpretation of the term may confuse some simpletons. Not that he cared one iota.
All this came into an entirely new light when the Antichrist took to the stage—quite literally—of Vox's silly picture box. Oh, she sang a fine tune, indeed, and Alastor had some authority, knowing a thing or two about music. Yet it was rather peculiar that this performance was clearly aimed at taking free will from its listeners, inviting them to this little place of hers.
Of course, Alastor himself didn’t fall for this; he made this way to the hotel entirely of his own volition. However, the Radio Demon was displeased to see a few thousand sinners shambling after him with their wills clearly bent by the Antichrist song.
He decided to give them a gift of free will and a chance to reconsider their decisions—by killing each and every one of them. After all, they will resurrect anyway, so no harm done.
Besides, it would be quite unfortunate to wait in the line. Alastor never was one for standing in lines—he much preferred crossing them.
Unfortunately, the Antichrist’s performance required immediate action, which made Alastor’s plan quite simple by his standards. The first part was done already—killing a cue—now he will enter the hotel and provide his services, thus making the princess awed and indebted. Meanwhile, his minions will hold the remaining sinners at a safe distance. If the situation requires, he’ll show the result of his massacre—a little feat could be an effective motivator, even for the royalty, and also an elegant way to showcase hit strength—and to establish his dominance. Then, Alastor may allow remaining sinners to enter, showing the Antichrist his generosity. His irresistible charisma will do the rest.
The act of establishing his dominance was vital. Alastor despised the idea of any authority above him, but he'd be delighted to perform in the show of Armageddon himself. He always preferred to be a performer rather than an audience. And doing this obviously required being as close to the Antichrist as possible—and as an equal, rather than a simple sidekick.
Besides, the princess, who was playing with free will, had already set them on the wrong foot. Now, it was Alastor’s duty to ensure she’d know better.
The Radio Demon fixed his bowtie and knocked three times at the door. It immediatly opened and he was met by the sound of party poopers and a giant ‘Welcome’ sign in the lobby.
“Welcome to the Happy Hotel!” Right in front of him was standing the beaming Antichrist, with party cone on her head. The Radio Demon dusted of confetti from his shoulder and gave her a hand to shake.
"Alastor, a pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure! It's nice to finally put a face to the name! Excuse my sudden visit, but I saw your performance on a pucture show, and I just couldn’t resist coming here," He made a dramatic pause, to highlight the next part, “entirely on my own volition.”
"My name? You mean, Charlie?" She was sound enough to look surprised.
"Why, Antichrist, of course!"
"A what now?" The Antichrist looked like she had no clue. What a delightful mess.
Instantly, right in front of his face a spear appeared.
“Stop right there, you pompous shitlord!” There was an angry little thing attached to the spear. Alastor chose to ignore her.
"It’s okay, Vaggie,” The Antichrist moved the spear away and turned to Alastor, “Who are you, again?"
"Why, the Radio Demon! Surely you’ve heard about me!" He felt a twinge of pride.
"Radio... Demon,” the girl murmured. “Wow, that's sound lazy! Anyway, is anyone else coming?"
Alastor’s eye twinged. Surely, she didn’t mean it. He chose to ignore her words, and, instead, proceed to the next part of the plan.
“I’m afraid they didn’t make it, my dear! Take a look!” With that, Alastor opened the door to show a pile of corpses covering the ground far as eyes could see.
The Antichrist showed no sight of fear or surprise.
“Oh, you’re the only one then. I guess my song was a bit strong, oopsie!” She didn’t look ashamed in a iota. “Vaggie, killing humans with a song doesn’t count as setting them on fire? No fire was present, you saw it!”
“I guess…” The spear girls said unsurely.
The Antichrist beamed.
“Doesn’t matter, there’s always another time. I guess you are strong then, for not dying and coming here. Did you lose any marbles on the way? You look like you did. Or is it just your normal behavior?”
Alastor fighted to control his expression.
“I’m quite normal, my dear, thank you very much! May I also add that I came here entirely by my own accord!” He added the second part almost entirely against his will.
“Suuure, as you say. So, are you here to rehabilitate yourself?”
“Rehabilitate? Oh, that is downright ridiculous, darling! No, I’m here to become your partner, of course!”
“I AM SORRY?” The spear girls looked like she was going to explode. Alastor could not name a particular reason for her reaction, but he decided to push this further.
“Partner? Like you want to have an intercourse with me?” Unsurely asked Charlie.
“Why, my dear, such a formal term. But if you insist on calling our future interactions 'intercourse,' who am I to disagree? Who wouldn’t with such a bright lady you are?” The Radio Demon was yet to decide if she’d make a good person to have conversations with, but entertainment was on the plate so sure.
“I AM SORRY????” The spear girl looked like she was ready to set the whole hotel on fire. Delicious.
Alastor made a gentlemanly bow.
“A partner for this fine establishment of yours, of course!”
To his amazement, the Antichrist jumped and clapped.
“You want to be partners with the Happy Hotel? Wow, this is so interesting! Where is my… Hold on,” With that, she ran away.
Alastor finally got a chance to look at the surroundings. The entrance area with dimly lit, partially reminding him one of the, oh, so many fine establishments ruined down due to the Great Depression when he was still alive. On the wall, the demon saw a rather peculiar object, reminding an animated whirlpool. He came closer.
“I wouldn’t do this, if I were you,” Said the voice, Alastor didn’t notice before. The voice belonged to someone pink, in a short vulgar shorts.
He decided to ignore it, and summoned a tentacle to try the whirlpool. Instantly, the thing bared its teeth and took a big chunk from the tentacle. Fascinating.
“And what is your role here, my effeminate fellow?” Alastor addressed the pink creature.
“I can suck your dick!”
“Ha! No.”
The Antichrist returned with a notepad in her hand.
“So, you said you want to become partners. How does it work? I understand partnership between humans, they…” She leafed through her notes, “Right! They devour human— not human!— ribs in the symbolic nature of the male’s dominance… then having a sacred ritual of mating in the public bathrooms… and totally not eating your partner afterwards! Never eating your partner afterwards, because it deeeeefinitely will creep other humans, even though they can respawn, or go to the afterlife, is they were still alive at the moment, so no harm is done, really.” The Antichrist turned to the spear girl. “Do I say it right, Vaggie?”
“For most parts.”
“Yay! But you,” She turned and pointed to Alastor. He raised his brows, not used of anyone pointing at him, “But you wants to be partners with the hotel. Do you plan, to mate with it or—”
The Radio Demon finally understood accusations the Antichrist was going with. He took her under her arms and led to the distant corner to make the conversation more private. The way she was ready to learn from him opened even more opportunities he could hope for. Become the teacher of the future Antichrist? Alastor was the best man for the job.
“My darling, let me say that I’m quite fascinated with your faith in the ways a human perversion could go—and you’re right here, of course! However, mating the building was never my intention here. Instead, consider myself is your strictly platonical business partner.”
“I’m not sure, how—”
“Still unconvinced? I suppose I can cash in a few favors to liven things up.” With that, he snapped his fingers, and a black-cat demon materialized in the lobby.
“Husker, my good friend, glad you did make it!”
The Antichrist ran over to Husker and stared at him. To Alastor’s amazement—and Husker’s disapproval—she tapped his ears and tugged on his whiskers, as if trying to determine if they were real. Then, she turned back to the Radio Demon with a stern look.
"No, no, not Alastor. By the rules of this hotel, having a cat is a reward, not something to be taken for granted."
Pardon me?
"My dear, as much as I appreciate your irony, I believe Husker is, first and foremost, a sinner."
The Antichrist tilted her head, thinking.
"I don't know... he looks like a cat to me. Let's make a deal!"
Alastor's eyes lit up. "Now, now. This is the language I speak."
Charlie continued, "For two weeks, you show your best behavior, and if I find it satisfactory, you can bring your sinner cat to stay with us."
Alastor could always see room to improve his behavior. Perhaps, improving his kill spree was a place to start.
“See you never, douchebag!” Husker laughed and walked out the front door, though Alastor was no longer paying him any attention.
Alastor mentally checked on his minions outside to see how many sinners they were holding back from entering the hotel. The crowd was much smaller than the initial one—just a couple of dozen at most. He gave the order, and watched his helpers tear them to pieces. It brought a little peace to his mind.
“How about that, then. One week of my best behavior, two guests from my side a month, and I invite stuff to look up for this place.”
“Two weeks. Three guests a month. Staffing will be decided afterward. And no sex in public bathrooms!”
“Your word is my command, darling.”
“Well then! Everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better. I’m accepting your offer of help.”
“So, it’s a deal then?”
“Deal? No!” To Alastor’s surprise, the Antichrist laughed almost viciously. “Deals with simple sinners are beneath royalty unless you’re asking for help—which I believe you’re not—so. Oh, I need to ensure your loyalty to me! That’s easy,” She smiled, and in a moment, everything around her filled with magic. “As Princess of Hell and heir to the throne, I hereby order that you, Alastor the Radio Demon, help with this hotel.”
It was a bit suspicious, but it couldn’t be anything serious, Alastor decided. Everything was going according to plan.
***
Someone with a weaker will might consider his entrance actions a miserable failure, but the Radio Demon was not that type of person. So, he set his mind on spying on the Antichrist using his shadows.
At the moment, she was sitting in her room, reading a book. It was quite dark—Alastor had to assume she had perfect night vision—so he couldn’t make anything out of the text. He took a risk and moved closer, only to see pictures of dogs inside. What could dogs have to do with redemption? Suddenly, the Antichrist raised her head and looked straight at his shadow.
“You can come in, if you like.” She showed no signs of distress.
Alastor hummed, a bit annoyed for being found out, but denying his presence would be counterproductive at this point.
“Good boy!” Charlie stood, opened a drawer, extracted a small piece of raw red meat, and handed it to Alastor. He took it suspiciously.
“What is this about?” The demon asked.
“Your ability seems fun!” Charlie ignored this question. “Is spying a normal thing in human culture?”
Alastor cautiously sniffed the meat. By his guess, it was a fresh piece of beef. He shrugged, put it in his mouth, and then sat on the chair opposite the Antichrist. Standing with with the meat in his hands would look foolish, anyway. Though he personally preferred venison, this beef was quite good.
Looking at the Antichrist’s eyes, he slowly licked his fingers. It didn’t seem to distress her as well.
“Why, my dear, of course! Spying is one of the most ancient human traditions! How else could one find out what the other side is planning?”
Charlie took out her ever-present notepad and scribbled something in it. “I see. So, asking directly considered rude?”
“Personally, I consider it much less entertaining. However, since we’re talking anyway, I may as well ask. Would you tell me what you’re planning?”
“To make you a better person, of course. And anyone who decides to check in.” There he was still far for understanding her character, this answer Alastor could confidently call untruthful.
“And what’s your personal profit in this little project?” He pushed to see how much she would reveal.
“I want to understand humans,” Charlie said, trying to sound assured, but Alastor could tell she was not.
“Humans are quite despicable creatures, darling. For what reason would you want to understand them?” He pushed further. Even in the dimly lit room, Alastor could see she was feeling uncomfortable.
“You sound just like my Dad. Anyway, I—I’ve observed humans, and I’ve come to the conclusion that, while being threatened, they act predictably. But when they feel good, they start showing signs of… Vaggie, do you remember—” Charlie looked around, realizing the exorcist was not present. “So! What’s your plan for your betterment?”
“Let me tell you when I have the first results, my dear. Not to spoil the surprise.”
Charlie excitedly clapped her hands. “I love surprises! Good boy!”
She pulled out another piece of meat from the drawer and handed it to Alastor. Was she trying to Pavlovian him?
***
After an unexpected meeting with the Antichrist, Alastor came to not-so-pleasant realization, that spying in her may be not as easy as he’d thought it would be. So, instead scanned an area to find other hotel residents. He found them sitting in the attic, clearly conspiring.
“This asshole…” Vagatha grumbled, clearly frustrated.
“You tell me, toots. Quite hot, though.”
“IT’S NOT THE POINT, ANGEL!”
“You’re the one into assholes as much as me, babe.”
“Charlie is not… Argh, nevermind! My point is—he is a threat to our plan.”
“He doesn’t appear to me as a wine guy, toots. Besides, our stash is securely hidden. No way’s find it.”
“Not that plan! The one where we try to guide Charlie away from total destruction and, you know, keep her from triggering the Apocalypse? Also, he’s going to tell her about the Antichrist thing, and then we’re all done for sure.”
Angel tilted his head, considering this. “Could you, like, pull some strings with heaven to learn more about this conspiracy and everything?”
“No way. I’m persona non grata up there, remember? And even if I wasn’t, I’d rather they didn’t find out about Charlie’s true identity. Just to be sure that her extermination isn’t on the plate.”
“How could they not know? It’s like the most obvious thing in the world.”
“Never underestimate heaven’s arrogance, Angel. The don’t know shit about hell. Don’t care, either.”
“So, about the strawberry pimp…”
Alastor decided he’d heard enough and materialized in front of the two.
“Well, hello, my friends! How’s your day going?”
The two jumped in terror. It was nice to see that at least some people in this establishment had the good sense to fear him.
“Y-you…” Vagatha sputtered, her voice dripping with venom.
“Now, now, is this any way to greet a fellow colleague and, dare I say, a future friend?” Alastor’s grin widened as he added, “I couldn’t help but overhear your little conspiracy— Ha ha! I must say, with planning skills like that, I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long! Not that I couldn’t change that…”
“Cut the bullshit. What do you want?” Vaggie snapped, clearly unimpressed.
“Oh, it’s not about what I want, dear. The real question is—what do you want? Keeping our charming princess in the dark about her being the Antichrist? That seems a tad rude, don’t you think? Then again, you don’t strike me as someone who’s particularly skilled at making friends, Vagatha…”
“Vagina,” Angel interjected, smirking.
“My name is Vaggie!” Vagatha hissed. “Do you have any idea what the consequences would be if she found out?”
“Humor me,” Alastor said, looking at his nails, to show his uninterest.
Vagatha signed in frustration and facepalmed with so much strength, it could leave bruises on her face. It would be quite a picture! Alastor hoped it will. He also may come to her room while she’s sleeping and help with this. He filed this sort for later.
“Reason number one. No hellborn knows a damn thing about the Antichrist lore. Our guess is that Heaven classified the information. If they find out that we know, and that we’ve told Charlie, we’re done. And even you don’t stand a chance against Adam, trust me.”
Trust that little annoying creature? Never.
“I’d take my chances, dear,” Alastor replied nonchalantly. Did she mean Adam as in the first man? He’s just a human, after all. The idea that he wouldn’t stand a chance was downright preposterous.
“Reason number two.” Vagatha pushed on. That girl was no fun. He’ll need to kill her later she’s ruining the mood of his hotel, “If Charlie finds out she’s the Antichrist, she might actually fulfill her destiny and bring down the Apocalypse. Then we’re all doomed!”
Alastor’s grin grew wider. “You say that like it’s a bad thing!”
“Are you really that dense? ‘We’re all doomed’ includes you too, genius. The Apocalypse means the end of all humanity and a war with heaven. There’s no chance any of us will survive.”
Alastor considered this. He might actually enjoy a bit of ‘surviving’ for a change. It had been a long time since he’d had to do that, and frankly, he was getting a bit bored. But there was no need to share that particular thought.
“So you came with a brilliant plan ‘to guide Charlie away from total destruction’.”
Apocalypse aside, the Radio Demon couldn’t help but despise the idea of turning that mad and vicious creature into unicorns-and-rainbows thing. This just won’t do.
“Yes, and it’s working! You should’ve seen her four months ago. There’s no way she’d have made you her ‘business partner’ if you’d met her then.”
“A month ago, she put me through a three-hour interrogation with a truth-telling machine. Not that I didn’t enjoy it,” Angel added with a smirk.
“You hated it!” Vaggie shot back, exasperated.
“Yes, but it’s not like he needs to know that,” Angel whispered furiously.
Alastor decided it was time to strike. “Let’s make a deal!”
“I’m not trading my soul to you, shitlord!” Vaggie snapped, her eyes narrowing.
“Not for your soul. Just a simple deal. I won’t tell the princess about her little ‘Antichrist’ secret, and in return, you don’t interfere with my plans for her.”
“And your plans are..?” Cautiously asked Angel.
“That’s for me to know and for you to wonder about. What do you say?”
Vagatha and Angel exchanged a look, some unspoken communication passing between them. Then they both turned to Alastor, offering their hands.
“Deal,” they said in unison.
If the Antichrist has two angels on her right shoulder, he would happily take the place for the demon on her left.
***
On the fourth day at the hotel, Alastor decided it was time to fulfill his part of the deal—bringing in new residents. The Antichrist mentioned her belief that humans were not vicious creatures. Now it was his job, as the demon on her left shoulder, to prove otherwise.
“My dear, I’m proud to present you with a new hotel resident—Susan!”
In any other circumstance, he preferred to stay far away from the vicious old hag from Cannibal Town, but for the greater cause, some sacrifices had to be made.
“What is this hole, Alastor? And who are you, little girl?” Susan raised her cane and pushed it against Charlie’s stomach.
“Wow, what an interesting human individual!” The Antichrist looked excited. She gently pushed the cane away, leaned down to Susan, and waved her hand. “Hello, Susan! It’s nice to meet you!”
“Speak louder! I can’t hear you!” It was an old trick of hers, one Alastor was familiar with. His grin widened, expecting a show.
“HELLO, SUSAN! IT’S NICE TO MEET YOU! WELCOME TO THE HAPPY HOTEL!” The Antichrist shouted.
“Don’t shout at the elders, you stupid girl!” Susan whacked Charlie on the head with her cane. “This is a stupid name for a hotel in hell, did anybody tell you that?”
“I’ve been telling her that, but she doesn’t listen!” Alastor added cheerfully.
“You didn’t tell me—anyway!” Charlie addressed Susan again. “HOW IS YOUR DAY, SUSAN?”
“I can hear you perfectly well!” She hit the Antichrist again.
“Would you like a cup of tea, Susan?” Charli asked weakly.
“Finally! Sure I do! And make sure to put a teaspoon of ground human bones in it, child. I need my calcium!”
“Of course, Susan. Take a seat,” Charlie led her to the dining room and left for the kitchen. Alastor heard her shouting, “Vaggie, where do we keep the ground bones?”
The exorcist followed her with a facepalm. “We don’t have ground bones, Charlie. Why would anyone—” She looked back at the grinning Radio Demon and the cannibal hag. “Oh, I see.”
Alastor followed them to the kitchen to eavesdrop on the conversation.
“Charlie, do you remember what I told you when we were on… in that café? That lady is a cannibal. And cannibalism does not lead to redemption!” Vaggie whispered to the Antichrist.
“I know, Vaggie. But if she’s not happy with us, she won’t stay! And you said that it’s important to listen to what humans want! That supposedly should make us closer? And everything?”
“Or, my dear,” Alastor intervened, “You realize that some people are beyond redemption!”
The exorcist signed, defeatedly.
“For once, I agree with him. Anyway, I need to check on Angel.” For once, Alastor couldn’t disagree with her either.
“I won’t know if I don’t try!” The Antichrist said, putting the cups on the tray.
They returned to the dinning room.
“Here’s your tea, Susan. Hope you like it!”
The cannibal hag took her cup and sniffed it with a look of disgust.
“Do you, girl, want to poison me with this leaf soup?” She poured the tea onto the floor. “And please tell me, why is this place so dusty? Don’t you demons clean?”
Alastor bent down to Charlie and whispered into her ear.
“It’s probably the first time I’ve heard her say ‘please’. Your tactic is working spectacularly, darling!”
“Well, Susan, we have been a bit busy—” The Antichrist nervously laughed, ignoring the demon.
“Busy doing what? This place is a dump! And your so-called ‘hotel’ is a joke! Where’s the luxury? Where’s the class? All I see is a bunch of cheap decorations and a princess who doesn’t know her ass from her elbow!”
“Oh… I’m sorry, I’ll try to make things better— Actually, I would be happy if you give me some notes! I want to make this place welcome for all humans!”
“Better? Ha! That’ll be the day. And where’s the bathroom? I need to use it. If you even have one. As if you royals know anything about plumbing!”
“I’ll make sure everything is perfect for you.” Charlie smiled, clearly on the edge.
“Oh, I’m sure you will… in your dreams! Hmph!”
The Antichrist started to smoke, her eyes turning red and her hair rising.
“You… YOU KNOW NOTHING about my dreams, you old hag!”
Susan stood up and pointed her cane at Charlie as if it were a gun.
“What did you say, girl?”
“I said… maybe you should consider being a little more polite!” She spat. Not the words Alastor would have chosen, but seeing her lose patience was truly delicious.
“Whatever, girl. I don’t like this place anyway.” With that, Susan turned and left. No one showed any signs of wanting to stop her. The Antichrist fell into a chair, and Alastor placed himself in the one opposite where Susan had been sitting.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, Charlie took a deep breath and said with strained enthusiasm.
“Well, that didn’t go as planned, but I’m sure we’ll get better with practice!”
If Alastor had been drinking tea at that moment—not that he would, ever—he might have choked on it.
“Practice, my dear? Some people are beyond help, can’t you see? Why waste your energy on the hopeless?”
The Antichrist looked at him
“Because everyone deserves a chance, Alastor! Even someone like Susan. Next time, I’ll try even harder!”
“Next time… right. How delightful.” Said Alastor, wincing internally.
“Anyway, never I thought, that my hotel could be called…”
“Our hotel, my dear!” Alastor interrupted. She was clearly forgetting her devoted business partner, and that just wouldn’t do.
Charlie beamed, like a sudden spark had ignited inside her.
“Oh, you’ve decided to include everyone! That’s so thoughtful of you, thinking about Vaggie and Angel!” She said, then paused and uncertainly added, “Thinking about other people is a good quality, right?”
That wasn’t the demon’s intention, but he chose to let it slide. For Alastor, it was not. Yet, the Antichrist, in his humble opinion, could use more thinking about Alastor. Her sheer unrespect him was preposterous, really. However, he should thinking strategically.
“Thinking about others, you say? Well, in my experience, that’s more often a sign of weakness than virtue. A strong soul, one truly capable of redemption, must focus on its own strength.”
Charlie tilted her head, considering this. “I see… So you’re saying strength is key to getting better?”
“Absolutely, darling. You can’t achieve anything worthwhile without it.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” She scribbled something in her notepad, then looked back up at him with curious eyes. “By the way, how’s your progress going? You know, with getting yourself better?”
Alastor flashed a grin. “Spectacularly, I’d say! Just this week, I’ve dispatched twice as many demons as I did all last month. Efficiency at its finest!”
“Is that… how humans make themselves better?” Charlie asked, a bit confused.
“Of course, my dear! Productivity and hard work are hallmarks of a dedicated soul. Even your precious Jesus was a hard worker, wasn’t he?”
Charlie wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, that guy. Not precious at all, mind you. But, I guess, I see your point. Have you, um, set anyone on fire?”
“Not a single soul!” Alastor replied, almost proudly.
“Had sex in any public bathrooms?”
“Not once in my life!”
“Eaten any cookies?”
“I despise sweets!” The demon said with a shudder.
Charlie nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answers, and put down more notes. “Great! Isn’t it? I just know you’re going to be a wonderful role model for the other residents! Another week, and you can bring your pet here as a reward!”
Alastor’s grin widened at the thought. He couldn’t wait to make Husk as miserable as he was.
Besides, an additional pair of ears would do him a service.
***
On this tenth day on the hotel, Alastor caught Charlie hanging the portrait of some asian man in the lobby. Due to the portrait’s style and man’s appearance, he looked like a human, rather then a demon. The Radio Demon considered himself a man of finer education, but this one didn’t ring a bell.
“May I ask, who is this, my dear?” He ensured to make his approach is silent as possible, but, unfortunately the Antichrist didn’t seem startled by this.
“Genghis Khan, of course! Wait, you don’t know him? I was really hoping—”
Now, Alastor did, indeed, remembered this name.
“Why, I do, of course! Wasn’t he the king, that slaughered a million people and destroyed several cities?”
The Antichrist beamed.
“Yes, that’s him!”
“And—may I ask—you decided to place his portrait here? Not that I’m opposed to the idea— Ha ha! Personally, I would prefer Dr. Holmes’ portrait, he also had a thing for hotels, you know. Yet, Genghis Khan seems like a rather peculiar choice!” Alastor couldn’t help but wondering what’s going in that twisted mind of hers. Not that he was opposed to the idea, absolutely not!
“I thought—why not choose some of the humans’ idols, you know! A man of a strong will, and a monarch, isn’t he a great choice to inspire the residents?”
“I absolutely agree, my dear! A great choice indeed.”
***
A few days later, Charlie gathered everyone in the lobby. She held a big folder filled with notes.
“So, after the Susan incident, I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes someone good or bad. Aaaaaand,” She make a pause, “I’ve come up with a list!”
“Oh, this should be interesting…” Vagatha muttered sceptically.
“Let’s hear it, princess.” Said Angel, clearly amused.
“Okay, number one! Good people always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you,’ even when they’re stabbing someone!”
“Charlie, that’s not—” Facepalmed Vaggie.
The Antichrist ignored her.
“Number two! Bad people eat too much cookies because it leads to gluttony, but good people share their cookies, even if they're poisoned!”
Angel laughed.
“Oh, honey, you’ve got some strange ideas about ‘good.’”
“Number three! Good people help others—like giving them advice on how to torture someone more efficiently!”
Alastor grinned.
“Never knew I could consider myself good in any circumstance, but you’ve just given me hope, darling!”
Charlie continued.
“But… I also think being good means caring about others. Even if they’re mean or don’t like you, you should still try to help them… like with Susan. She was really mean, but maybe she just needed someone to be patient with her.”
“Charlie… that’s actually… kind of sweet.” Said Vagatha, clearly surprised.
“Look who’s growing a heart!” Angel teased, though he looked pleased. “Be careful, you might get a redemption before any of as! Is it even possible?” He turned to Vagatha and whispered, “It could solve…”
“It’s not possible, Angel. Hellborns can’t be redeemed.”
“So, given all of this, I’ve decided to be good as well and put more trust in you.” She turned to the Radio Demon. “Alastor, I think I can trust you to bring someone new here. But they have to be on their best behavior, okay? No setting anyone on fire, no poisoning the cookies, and definitely no stabbing without saying ‘please’ first!”
“But of course, my dear! I’ll make sure Husk understands the rules… in his own way.”
***
Later that evening, after Angel left, Alastor and Charlie were alone in the lobby.
“By the way, Al. When… this … Susan… appeared, you said the Happy Hotel was a stupid name. Do you still think so?”
“Of course, my dear. What demon would want to stay in the Happy Hotel?”
“I mean… I guess you have a point…”
“As your business partner, I took the liberty and renamed it myself. Take a look.”
He led the Antichrist outside.
“Hazbin Hotel…”
“Yes, indeedy! What better name for the has-beens that will fill our rooms in their unreachable and unachievable attempts at redemption?”
They stood for a few, looking at the sign in silence. Alastor could tell, Charlie was contemplating. He watched her intently, his grin never wavering but his mind racing with plans and possibilities.
Charlie finally spoke, her voice quite yet resolute. “Hazbin Hotel... I suppose it’s fitting. But you know, Al, I believe redemption is never truly out of reach. Even for the most lost souls.”
For a moment, Alastor’s grin faltered, but he quickly recovered. “Such optimism, my dear. It’s... refreshing. But let’s not forget where we are. This is hell, after all. Some souls are beyond saving.”
Charlie turned to him, her eyes gleaming with determination. “Maybe. But I’m still going to try. And who knows? Maybe I’ll surprise you.”
Alastor chuckled.
“Surprise me? My dear, you already have. But remember, this hotel is as much a game as it is a sanctuary. And in games, there are always winners and losers.”
“Maybe,” Charlie said again. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t change the rules.”
Alastor’s smile grew wider. “Oh, I’m counting on it, my dear. I’m counting on it.”
They stood in silence for a moment longer, the neon sign casting a flickering glow over them both. As they turned to head back inside, Alastor allowed himself a final thought, one that he would never voice aloud: Perhaps she’s more dangerous than I anticipated. But that just makes the game all the more interesting.
And with that, the door to the Hazbin Hotel closed behind them, leaving the new name glowing ominously in the darkness, a promise of the trials—and entertainment—to come.