Radio Friendly Unit Shifter - Kami_Inu (2024)

Chapter 1: Deer Dance

Chapter Text

Once, decades ago, there was a man. A strange man, raised rough through static and shadows. By day, he walked among his fellow humans; a charming, familiar face, with a soothing voice. But at night, he roamed the streets, bringing fear and a bloody end to any unfortunate enough to cross his path.

Sometimes, his ruthless services were sought by others. He was known as a skilled dealmaker, and always able to provide on his side of the bargain. However, whether via arrangement with the underworld or for his own pleasure, he would kill and devour, to his heart's content. And woe to anyone who failed to keep their promise...or simply attracted his personal ire. Truly, a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Eventually, it all caught up with him – one misstep of human error was enough to brutally end his reign of terror up above. However, that wasn't the conclusion of his story. Upon his arrival in Hell, not even its greatest forces could hold him down. This caught the eye of the Devil himself, who offered him a prized position: as a collector of souls from Earth, who had reneged on their agreements for otherworldly assistance.

The damned realm was full to bursting at that point, but it was no problem with anyone below if the limits were further pushed. Lucifer would never turn away an opportunity to come out on top against Heaven. It ultimately seemed like a good arrangement.

Except, the new player in question wasn't content with simply being a servant. For however long, against the Infernal's orders, he took those lost for personal gain, binding them to his person with his unique powers and contracts.

Finally, in this era, and unfortunately for him, he was discovered yet again. The King was beyond furious. With his own two hands, he was nearly successful in securing the traitor's demise, before his target managed to escape to Earth one last time.

Nobody knows any further from there where the fiend vanished to...but surely, it will be a dark day if he ever rears his head, and returns to stalk the living and the dead. The one that got away; a battle for the ages! With the power he amassed prior to his flight, it would certainly be quite the memorable spectacle.

And, a helluva headache to deal with, too.

…...

It was a quiet night. The navy sky canopy was stretching out above the city, as far as could be seen. Just a nameless metropolis, unremarkable in its structure. The heavens were speckled faintly with the flickering glow of distant stars, resembling tiny holes in the figurative tarp. Though, they were mostly drowned out by the artificial glow beneath.

Everything was running smoothly, like a flawlessly tuned engine. There was no uptick in the hustle and bustle of the main hubbub. Nothing to suggest that anything could possibly be different this evening among the populace.

Here, nestled down one of the many winding streets and pathways, was a building. It stood about eight stories tall, with the ground level as a check in, while the first six served a specific business purpose. The top floor was for offices. Only two of its windows were lit, at the seventh level and bottom.

Wires and dishes stood adorning the roof, mixed with a few antennas. This place was none other than a radio station. And, it was currently just about midnight.

“Whew...another shift done. Finally...my back is killing me.”

On the seventh floor, light and faint sound were emanating from behind a closed door. 'Studio 105.9' was written on the plate tacked onto the thick wooden barrier, with a lone square window to peer through. Beyond the entryway, was an office with a table and a couple chairs. It was lit from the fluorescent bulbs overhead, revealing yet another door with a wide window beside it, eye-level.

In this room, a lone figure could be seen reaching about slowly, tinkering with all sorts of odds and ends from a series of flashing boards and screens. A sign reading 'On Air' had just gone dark. The large extended microphone to its right was now pushed aside, allowing the seated person to stand. At long last, their chair was free to swivel.

Satisfying cracks and pops rang out in the enclosed space, as she straightened her spine. Long brown hair tumbled behind her shoulders, down her back, and into her face. A slightly sleepy, angular ocean gaze blinked a few times, as a black fingerless glove clad hand brushed away the loose strands. In another motion, it rubbed at dark circles beneath her eyes. Scarred skin on her left cheek, etched with pale lines, tugged upwards with the motion. A tongue flicked out lightly, to lick at dry lips, catching against a rounded stud beneath.

The black coffee she'd been drinking intermittently through the afternoon had run out a while ago, and after a certain point, so too had the caffeine kick. Thankfully, once seven p.m. rolled around, she didn't really have to say anything on-air. The programmed skits, traffic and weather reports, plus scattered news notes petered out into just the occasional check-in every few commercial breaks. Aside from the song requests passed on to her behind the scenes, not much was happening. It gave her a chance to let the persona slip, and catch her breath.

This had been her life for the last three years, though she'd been working there for five. Wake up at eleven a.m, attempt to eat something and exercise, before giving up and getting ready for her shift at the station. Every Monday through Friday, like clockwork, she'd show up at one p.m, to prep before her block began at two. Then, she was locked in for the next ten hours. There used to be another DJ on before her, but he'd been moved to another of the parent company's channels, so her round had been extended.

Now that it was twelve a.m, everything was set up to operate automatically. Just activate the software to run through a shuffled playlist. Mostly, it worked well. A few times, the system would glitch, and they might get a call or two about the station going off-air. In those cases, there wasn't much to be done. It wasn't like they could send someone out at three in the morning to punch in codes, flip a few switches, or God forbid, something more extensive if it was beyond just a hiccup. The audience would simply have to wait until six a.m, when the next DJ checked in.

Each announcer had their own distinct personality that they brought to the airwaves. The morning announcer was a jolly fellow, Dan Laurel, with enough energy to help you wake up without being annoying. The late morning-early afternoon host, Joey Mueller, was more easygoing, as if to keep you cool through the main points of your work shift. And then, there was her.

She considered herself a combination of the two: cheerful, to keep people entertained, while also laidback, to emphasize the ending of the workday. Her voice would rise in pitch, to match her assumed personality, as she set up different clips to play. Things like comedic skits, or parody advertisem*nts, custom-recorded by the studio, for her shift. It was important to keep up with the day-to-day by researching various topics, be they random amusem*nts, or more serious affairs. She had to make sure to riff off of them just right; the transition needed to be smooth. There was a lot riding on her shoulders that they'd trusted her with, including the adding-on to her schedule. People seemed to enjoy her show just as much as the other two, and the weekend programming as well.

This...was something that the woman would never get used to. Being appreciated. These people didn't know what she was like off the clock. Would they still be as grateful if they knew where she came from, where she'd been? If they saw the face behind the microphone, so unconventional, even battered? When they saw that mask slip off and fade away into nothing, as her regular existence settled itself comfortably upon her shoulders like a portable mountain?

She didn't hate her job. Far from it. As scary as it could be, to put herself out there so openly on a near daily basis? Well, with what she'd been used to for so long in her earlier years, it was also...freeing. The joy, in spite of the tweaks to her mannerisms, was genuine. This was a career she wouldn't trade for anything. Of all the outcomes, in all the universes...at long last, this was hers.

It was just...a bit complicated still, behind the scenes. With the side that only she could see. The one lurking a few inches beneath the surface. The one who threatened to come tumbling out, at any given moment, should she falter even for a second. How long that part of her had been chained, restrained, barricaded away – all it took was a single trip, to send everything tumbling down again. And this time, there was so very much more at stake. A life she'd carved, almost quite literally, through blood, sweat, and tears. She wasn't giving it up without a fight.

Once she'd shut out the lights, pulled on her coat, and packed her personal belongings – not much, just her hydro-flask, phone and small backpack – she proceeded to lock up everything tightly, before making her way through the empty hall. Since everyone else had left a while ago, the lights were out. But at least there was enough moon and streetlamp glow streaming in to provide adequate illumination. Pushing the button for the elevator, she mused to herself over the contents of her day, and what the rest of her time would entail from now.

Easter was coming up. Apparently, chick-shaped Peeps were more popular than the rabbits. There had been a couple of celebrity deaths. It was Good Friday. She had two days work-free coming up, though she probably wasn't going to celebrate anything. The weather had been spotty in a few areas, with random showers. Such was the nature of spring. She was running out of food, so she had to go grocery shopping either tomorrow or Sunday.

Spinning the back of her labret stud between her teeth behind closed lips – one of the many ticks, or habits of hers – she remained lost in thought. Would she tune in to the station while on break? Maybe. She liked some of the late programs they sourced from other stations out of state, though she certainly wasn't on bad terms with the rest of the workers here. Amazingly, she hadn't gone and screwed that up.

Once downstairs, she clocked out on her card, waving goodbye to the security guard who acknowledged her on her way. As the glass doors slid shut behind her, she walked across the parking lot, then down the left towards the bus stop.

She could not afford to be late on her trips home – after ten p.m, the buses stopped running as frequently. And she didn't want to be waiting for any longer than she had to. At least she didn't have to worry about traffic jams.

Following the ride, she was dropped off at a point a little ways away from the hill up which her apartment was located. The trip was a bit taxing, in particular when she had to lug home supplies, even if the stores were within walking distance. But, it was a good workout for her legs. And any port in a storm, right? She wouldn't complain.

Her residence was a simple one bedroom, not extensively furnished or posh, but managing to serve her needs well. It was the first place she'd been able to snag for herself that didn't come with crazy roommates or curfews, or landlords who only cared about lining their pockets, and filling shoddy spaces. She could afford the rent on her own merit, and it came with basic amenities that she no longer had to worry about lacking or having to share; hadn't had to fret about such things for a while now. And she would always be grateful for that.

Granted, the place wasn't very well-guarded, but not much really happened in the neighborhood where she resided. She'd never felt unsafe in her time living there, not really.

Okay, maybe when she'd watched one too many horror movies, or made the mistake of reading ghostly tales before bed. Or, if there had been any stories about violent crimes that she'd had to relay, all while not coming across as shaken up for the good of the public. Then, every little sound and shadow would get her jumpy. But her nerves were restricted far more often to the cityscape.

The only thing...alongside the path she walked, was wooded area. There were a few cliffs further in, which was one reason it wasn't recommended to go traversing through. The other issue, of course, was wildlife.

From a handful of scattered points, when the trees cleared, she could actually see other little cul-de-sacs beyond the edges and visible drops. It was always amusing to her, imagining just what the families and occupants could be doing so far down and away. Did they ever look up, and wonder to themselves what lay above? Could they even see anything?

Yes, tonight was just another night. There was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary here. The winding street was peaceful, the sky was still and clear, no fear of rain. The lamps were working. The moon was bright. Why, if it hadn't been so late, and she so exposed, she might've almost been tempted to -

Suddenly, a series of rustles to her right. Immediately, she froze. That sound...was kinda big. That was the best way to describe it.

They had critters, like lizards and mongoose, even the occasional stray cat wandering around. Those sights didn't freak her out. Startled her, maybe, if one of them came darting across her path unexpectedly, but other than that, it was fine.

This, however...didn't sound like any of those things. It wasn't directly at the entrance of the treeline, but it was close. And whatever it was, was making far too much noise, even for some animal that might've been bolting. The sound was ridiculously frantic, and heavy. It almost seemed...rhythmic? Like in some sort of step?

Of course...there were also things like coyotes, and mountain lions. And, although somewhat rare, it wasn't impossible to have one, or a few of them, prowling around suburbia. It was to be somewhat expected, what with all the continuous development going on in expanding humanity's reach.

As she stood there, the sound growing ever louder, she knew that she should be running. Whether or not there was actually any sort of threat here, the panic alone was enough to incite screaming from her psyche. Whatever it was hadn't reached the grass yet - she couldn't see them. That meant that hopefully, they couldn't see her, either. Which gave her plenty of time to book it before getting caught. If she were to be. If this was something that could, or would, do any sort of 'catching'.

A step back. And then another. And another. Gradually, she was increasing the distance between herself and the strange commotion. In one more move, she could just turn tail entirely, and run the rest of the way. She was already, what, about halfway up at this point? She'd be sore and tired as all-heck get out the next day, but it'd be worth it as long as she woke up to begin with.

Just as she spun on her heel to, at long last, make tracks, there was a final shaking of underbrush and branches. Looking back instinctively, she let out a yelp at the sight of an amorphous mass tumbling forth from among the shrubbery and tree trunks. In the hullabaloo, her left foot caught around her right ankle, causing her to topple over. Landing on her side and palms, she winced as she sat up.

Well. That happened. Just like something out of a scary movie, and she playing the ill-fated character on-screen. At least she hadn't gone so far as to ask “Who's there?” but still...! If she wasn't some killer's next victim, then she was most certainly about to be mauled!

So much for a peaceful night - ! Was that really her last thought? Yanking her arms over her head and curling up tight in a fetal position, the woman prepared herself for the inevitable.

But instead, there was silence. Beautiful, unblemished silence – no growling, no footfalls, no voices. Nothing was on a crash-course with her defenseless body. After a few more moments, only the sound of her racing heart reverberating in her ears, she finally began to relax her form.

Then...the soft call. A bleat, in fact. Huh...? Upon hearing this, her eyes slowly opened, and she took a chance, to finally look back at the edge of the woods. The sight that greeted her eyes...

A...A deer? One blink, then another. She even reached up to rub her eyes again, this time with both hands. The sight was still there: a small creature, lying in a crumpled heap. Based on its size, it might have been very young. Tentatively, she untangled herself from the ground, and after a moment's thought, took a few steps closer. Why was a deer all the way out here? Were there even supposed to be deer in this area? Had a deer really been the one to make all that ruckus?

Instantly, the animal started to move. Letting out another cry, it rose shakily, taking up a stance as if it were about to charge. She stopped in place, not knowing whether to progress any further. What did she know about deer, anyway? If it was a child, then where was its Mother? Could baby deer do damage? What if the Mom was nearby? Would she be in trouble then? Again – why was it so close to civilization? More development issues?

Suddenly, the wobble, and another bleat. The sound was heart-wrenching, as the being fell over, back into the grass. She didn't have any pets of her own, but she'd always considered herself an animal lover. And, in spite of it being something from the wild...curiosity was winning out. She could get just a bit nearer, right? It certainly didn't seem to be in any state to harm her. Was it a newborn? Was that why it was so shaky? On the other hand, although it appeared to be a youth, it didn't look quite small enough to have been that fresh to the world.

Drawing closer and closer, still the creature did not stir. The female felt her heart start to pound once again. In just a few more moves, she was near enough to make out further details to the tiny animal's form. And what she saw...made her veins run cold.

It wasn't the dark fur, or heavy-lidded, deeply hued eyes that caught her off-guard. No...it was the gaping wound in the deer's side, rapidly pooling warm blood into the grass. Before she knew it, the woman was pulling off her coat, and closing the gap between them.

Its eyes darted up sharply in her direction, but it made no further motion to drive her away, let alone any other sounds. For all she knew, it was about to expire already. This thought did not serve to lessen the anguish and fear gripping her heart at this very moment. No matter if the Mother were around – what could she possibly do? Watch her baby die?

At the same time, though...

There were no vets open at this time of night. The emergency ones were all located back in the heart of the city. She wouldn't be able to reach them, not with the buses as they were running. She had to conserve her funds; she couldn't afford any other sort of extra transport. And, she had no one she could ask for a ride at this hour. Plus, she didn't have numbers for any sort of animal control on hand. So, if she wanted to provide support...

...it would all have to be by her own doing.

“H-Hey there, little guy...uhh, wow. This is...wow. Umm. Yikes.” And now she was talking to it. Babbling, more accurately. Was it even a boy or a girl? Who knew? All she was aware of, was at this point in time, she had to do something. She didn't see any organs coming out, just blood. So, a good sign? It had been standing a few minutes earlier, so did that also mean she'd be able to move it without worry?

Carefully, she laid her jacket out on her lap, as wide and smoothly as she could. “Umm...y-you're hurt. And I – I, well...God, why am I doing this?” A pause. “Because you're a sap. And an idiot. You're a bleeding heart.” And cue the verbal backtalk. For a second, a self-aimed scowl crossed her features. Looking again at the creature though, it melted away almost instantly.

She couldn't. How many times in her life had she been in anguish, and left to fend for herself? How many times had others abandoned her, deemed her a waste, who'd have made her own Mother 'cry herself sick' - during the periods where they weren't too busy debasing the woman for her own issues to begin with? Had turned their backs, when all she'd wanted, needed, was compassion and understanding? She couldn't guarantee that she'd even be able to save this animal. But, if he – was it a he? - did wind up...passing on, at least it would be far away from any sort of predators. At least she could say she tried.

“This...might hurt a little. Or a lot. I don't know, I-I'm not the one with the wound. But, for what it's worth...I'm sorry.” She offered a short bow of her head, before slowly, with trembling hands, reached out. After a bit of maneuvering, she managed to place one beneath its head, and the other under its side. “I'll do my best not to make it worse.”

The creature had barely flinched; whether it was actually listening and could understand her intent, or was simply too drained to care any longer, she had no idea. But, she'd gotten this far...it was time to make good on her words.

“Oisho!” With one hauling motion upwards, she was able to lift the small being, albeit a bit joltily. In another two seconds, she'd placed it upon her coat, and had begun wrapping it up in a tight bundle. The weight wasn't too bad; she'd had dogs growing up, and this one fell roughly in-between as far as its size went. Clutching it to her chest, not caring one iota about any staining, the female rose to her feet with a waver, and prepared to make the trip back to her residence once more.

She wasn't sure what sort of supplies were required for such an animal's care, let alone one that was injured. But hey, wasn't that what the internet was for? She had some human first-aid stuff, so she could at least try to get it cleaned and bandaged. Wrapped up with gauze and a pad, though she didn't know if that would stop the blood flow. Would applying pressure help, at this point? Would that even work here? What if there was internal damage?

And, what would happen, if she'd actually been able to fix this? What then? Could she just really...release it, back into the wilderness? Would it even be able to fend for itself? What if they both got too attached? Well, by then, she should have the proper resources on hand to send him off...right?

Too many questions and what-ifs. She wasn't going to let them stop her from doing what she thought was right. She'd do her best to help this guy, and hopefully...it wouldn't turn out too badly. Who knows – maybe she'd even get another miracle, and everything would work out? Like being able to finally stand on her own two feet. Something along those lines.

So much for tonight being uneventful, though. Looks like her weekend was starting off with a bang.

Chapter 2: No One Knows

Chapter Text

“And...here we are. Home sweet home.”

With a low creak, the door slowly swung inwards. She stood in front of the entryway, precariously balanced but triumphant. One arm was doing its damndest to keep the injured deer from tumbling out of her grasp, pressing him as close to her chest as possible without crushing him. The other hand, a bit lower, was holding the apartment key in a shaky grip between two fingers. The remaining three were extended, to wrap around the knob, turning it just enough to open slightly.

Finally, her right leg was lifted, having caught the narrowly cracked barrier with an awkward tap of her foot. It took a bit of arranging, but it was doable. A trick she'd learned through trial and error while fending for herself among different scenarios. Thank God it worked tonight – she couldn't afford to drop this most precious cargo.

Speaking of...

Glancing down, she saw that the creature, while rather out of it, still had its eyes partially open, and was breathing. She could feel the faintest movement against her forearm. Letting out a sigh of relief, she proceeded to make her way inside, closing the door behind her with a momentary struggle. She could have kicked it, but didn't want it slamming. The sound was not a favorite of hers, for reasons she would rather not dwell on.

Once she'd gotten her key and bag upon the kitchen counter, the female returned her attention to the animal. With the softest motions she could manage, she proceeded to arrange the cushions on her couch, throwing down the blanket she had draped over the top. It was mainly used for decoration, and it needed to be washed, anyway. The seat was second-hand to begin with, though still sturdy. She wouldn't be getting rid of it any time soon. The point was, if it got stained, so be it.

Upon placing the small deer down, her next move was to take off her gloves – they'd need to go in the laundry after this – wash her hands, and haul out two things to the low table in front of the sofa and TV: the medical supplies, and her laptop.

The latter was one of her most treasured possessions; it had replaced her old computer after nearly ten years of use. She'd gotten it as a graduation gift, from a friend of the family who'd still wanted anything to do with her. This one was getting on in years as well, but it continued to serve its purpose. Who needed to constantly upgrade if you just took care of your things?

“Alright, here we go. Just open up a few tabs...injuries, wild animals...deer...” As she waited for the pages to load – her internet could be spotty at times – the woman began to gently unwrap the jacket from around the creature's limp form. In the proper lighting...well. This thing was certainly the sight to see.

She had to admit, she was a tad unnerved. She wasn't that stupid; normal deer did not look like this. It was plain as day, from the images that had loaded upon her computer's screen. This one...was special.

No, it wasn't just the gleaming, shimmering wound in its side that stood out. It was quite fluffy, and as red as the blood that flowed freely. There was a little patch of fur upon the center of its head, with two small black antlers, like tiny forks, on either side. So tempting to pet. The hair, not the prongs.

Its hooves were also red, while its chest, lower legs, nose, ear and tail tips were dark brown. Although deep mahogany eyelids were lowered, bright vermillion irises, set in a darker crimson sclera, were following her every motion intently. Its eyes were quite prominent. Good – still conscious. She couldn't say anything as to how it had wound up this way, though. So strangely adorned and battered.

Maybe...it had been caught by some pranksters, and had been subject to abuse? Could something like that really change the entire coloring of an animal to this extreme, though? Perhaps it was an outlier, created by some really odd genetics, and had been rejected by its Mother? Thus, was wandering around alone, got attacked, and ended up bumping into her?

Or another possibility, that was still pretty crazy, was that it had been used in some sort of experiment – like testing products – which caused this notable change. It had either escaped, or been abandoned. She couldn't tell whether its lack of resistance was truly due to the severity of its wounds, or because it had potentially been domesticated, at some point. Nothing made sense right now!

“I'm not finding anything encouraging, sh*t – oh no, that's not what I meant! Sorry, swearing jar. I mean shoot.” In the last few years, the female had found she'd developed a bit of a cursing problem, and was at long last, attempting to call herself out on it. Although she hadn't pursued it as a major, English had been one of her favorite subjects in school – it was the only class she'd been any good at, in fact. So, to think that she were using foul language as a crutch, when she could have easily been making better use of her words, and saving the heavy hitters for where they were really needed, was maddening to her. She was getting better at catching herself, but occasionally, she would slip. Like now.

That was neither here nor there. Why she was bothering with an apology to the nearly comatose oddball bleeding out on her couch, she didn't know. She didn't even know how he had gotten his – if it had antlers, it was definitely a he – injury in the first place! It might not have been a wild predator that had gotten to him at all, but a human instead. The thought made her stomach churn a little. Someone could've been chasing him specifically for his colorations...

Taking in a deep breath, she reached across the table, to pick up the kit she'd left at the edge. Opening the wide plastic case, she began to sort through its contents: cotton balls, some gauze patches, winding bandages, disinfecting spray, tape. Would any of this even help? Was he still bleeding? With trepidation, she leaned in, to take a closer look.

The smell of blood was strong. But, although the stain in her coat was quite wide, it appeared as though nothing fresh was further dripping forth. Or maybe there was just too much lifeforce and red to be able to properly tell. She couldn't be certain.

First things first though...before I can apply anything, I need to get him cleaned up. Oh, boy. Although he wasn't fighting so far, there was no guarantee that, once she actually started touching the wound, that he wouldn't suddenly come to life, and potentially attack her then. Perhaps he was simply conserving his remaining energy for the 'right' moment? Could an animal really reason that far?

Either or...nothing will get done unless I start it. Everything she'd found online, had said to call the control services, and let them handle it. But, seeing just exactly what it was she'd ended up with here...she wasn't entirely sure they'd be able to understand. She'd get scolded for having moved him in the first place, that was a given. But on top of that, what with his unusual coloration and features...

...who's to say that they wouldn't deem her the abuser instead? Or worse – send him off for some sort of testing, to figure him out, that could very well traumatize him further? When she thought about it that way, bringing him back home, whether to live or...well, die, didn't seem as bad an idea anymore.

Another inward bite at the stud below her lips, before standing up and heading for the kitchen sink. Grabbing a cup, she filled it with water, and heated it for about a minute in the microwave, before bringing it back to the table. Placing it down, she sat on the floor. Taking out a cotton ball from the box, she dipped it in lightly. Locking eyes with the strange being, the woman inhaled slowly.

“I-I'm...I'm going to clean your wound, okay? Everything says that I – I really shouldn't be doing this, but...well, what? Am I just supposed to – to let you die? Die alone? No, screw that.” She shook her head. “Even if this is wrong...I can't. I can't turn my back. Just...bear with me, alright? It's...gonna hurt. Probably.” A heavy breath out. Familiar words being repeated. “But, I'll do whatever I can...to ease the pain. I won't be rough. Just...”

Another pause. What else could she say here? “...let me know if it gets too bad?” And a sigh. “Yeah. Real smart there.”

Again, the creature didn't respond. He was merely staring straight ahead, now no longer regarding her. As if he'd accepted her words, and was waiting for the work to begin. Or maybe she was just personifying him too deeply. That was as clear a sign as any to stop blathering, and get on with it then, though. So, with a slightly trembling hand, she began the cleansing process.

A forceful twitch of the body, and a sharp kick out of the legs. Something akin to another bleat, mixed with a grunt, emanated from the small being. She nearly fell backwards, attempting to get out of striking range. Watching with an anxious gaze, she could see the now rapid rise and fall of the creature's chest, breathing in and out as if having just finished a marathon.

“I-I'm sorry!” Quickly, she bowed her head. It was the first thing that came to mind. Always immediately accepting the blame, though in this case the fault did lie on her, even if it couldn't be helped. She was the one who'd made contact, after all. After this mishap, would he even be willing to have her come near him again?

A hard swallow then. I have to keep going! “Please...I know, it sucks. But this – I need to do this!” She could feel them then; a hint of hot tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. Oh God, not the waterworks. She'd gotten so much better at driving them off; was tonight where her winning streak would be broken? “I don't – I don't – I don't want you to die!”

The last words had come out far stronger than she'd been expecting, and in an instant, the animal's eyes were fixed on hers, an arresting scarlet stare.

There was an indescribable energy charging in the air...and the female couldn't explain it. It was almost as if he...had understood what she was saying, and was responding in kind. “Oh, really?” She could practically hear the words in her mind. Was this all just a result of being too emotional? Was it just her? Her issues, rearing their ugly heads? Was she about to have some sort of mental break, all brought on by failing to save this creature?

Gradually, his frenzied panting seemed to ease, until once more, he was breathing softly, but steadily. His gaze was trained at something nondescript before him, most likely the wall. That was okay. The current in the room had lessened; everything was back to normal, like how it had been before she'd started her task. It felt as though...he'd heard her words, and was offering her a second chance. Or maybe, that's what she would keep telling herself, to make it through.

Again, she prepared. This time though, with every inch of her being, she forced herself not to shiver, as she brought the swab back towards the gash. She didn't want to squander this opportunity – she needed him to trust her! She needed to prove that she wasn't completely useless!

As the damp cotton ball brushed against his side, there was a flinch. But, no cry. No kick. His reaction was far less aggressive this time around, and the woman could only hope that it was because of the restrictions she'd placed upon her nerves before starting again. He was looking at her once more, but the intensity in his eyes had eased. This was all the confirmation she needed to continue.

The process was slow but steady. Every so often, she'd either dip the swab into the water, or switch it out entirely once it was used up to its fullest. Eventually, the fur surrounding the injury was matted more by water, not blood. Having cleared it up a considerable amount, she could now identify a few more details.

Yes, it had stopped bleeding. Thank goodness. It was also...flawless in its structure. It wasn't jagged, like something had taken a bite out of him. Neither was it akin to a hole or entry point, with any residue, so he hadn't been shot. It was very precise, even in its placement. One straight line, from end to end, under his ribcage. Had he been sliced by something instead? That seemed...almost too personal, in her opinion.

It stopped before his hind legs, but was still of a decent length, a few inches. It would require at least three pads to cover, and who knew how much gauze to hold it all in place. A professional might have recommended stitches instead. Obviously, this wasn't doable for her. She didn't even know how the pads were going to stick. All she had was tape, but...really? Put tape in his fur? If she had no other way to go about it, though...

“Alright...the cleanup is done. Now...for the medicine.” Whew. Here was likely to be another freak out. Giving him a sympathetic glance, she offered more of her most sincere apologies, along with another nod of the head. “I'm sorry. This is going to – to sting a little. But it's necessary, to keep things from getting infected. After that, no more pain. I think. I just have to dress it.”

In response, she received a soft huff, and what could have been interpreted as an eye roll. It almost made her laugh, despite the circ*mstances. What even was her reasoning right now.

A few quick sprays, a couple of shudders, but still no further resistance. At long last, it was time to apply the bandages. After debating for a good five minutes, she had to ultimately concede defeat. The only way they'd stay in place, was if she taped the pads to him. Then, it was just a matter of getting him adjusted enough, to wrap the rest of it around. Could he stand now, perhaps? Or even just sit up? Would he let her hold him again?

Well, she wouldn't know until she gave it a shot. “Uhh...I gotta stick this stuff to you. Are you...okay to move? Erm, or okay with being moved?” A shake of the head then. “Why am I even asking...?”

As if in reply though, his own tilted slightly, that same gaze regarding her once more. Even without the prior unspoken spark, it was still rather unnerving. Perhaps because of the shade; everything being so very...red? It was unnatural. This time, his expression seemed to be offering her permission with lazy dismissal. “Go ahead. Do as you must.” Hoping that she was actually reading animal behavior properly, the female drew closer, and resumed her task.

Her hands almost automatically placed themselves under him yet again. Counting to three in a whisper, she proceeded to press upwards, lifting him onto his hindquarters. Another grumble, but no thrashing. He seemed more alert now, though certainly not energized.

The bandages weren't that hard to attach, so long as she shifted the fur around some, and avoided the edges of the wound. Gingerly, arranging herself and the materials in her hands as best she could, she managed to twist and turn the sheer fabric, sealing it off here and there until finally, it was set and in place. Carefully letting go, she was pleasantly surprised when he didn't immediately slump back over.

Well...that's good, I guess. Where to go from here? Aside from packing up the supplies, what else could she do for him? Was he hungry? Thirsty? Could he even do those things right now? Maybe he was in too much pain. If he was sitting up, though...

Well, it won't hurt if I make him something. If he doesn't eat, he doesn't eat. I don't have much, but I can throw together at least a small meal. “Umm...I'm gonna go get some more stuff for you, okay? Hopefully, you'll like it...just, stay here for now, alright?” Round, wide eyes, blinked at her, lowered lids lifting a tad. Now, he didn't look quite so...well, dead? Where was he going to go, anyway? At most, all he could do was fall off the couch...which was not a welcomed option.

Standing up – and nearly falling over herself, darn that sudden head rush! - she made her way back to the kitchen, to wash her hands plus the cup, and prepare a couple things. One of them, a bowl of water this time. The other, a dish of apples and carrots. Luckily, she had a bag of both. It was mostly snacks and meals she'd run out of. Her produce on the other hand, was still pretty intact.

She didn't buy a whole lot of it to begin with – and she really should have. She should have been eating more of it, too. Her diet was a mess, and she couldn't even blame it on lack of facilities to cook with. She just didn't know how, and had never gotten around to learning.

Thankfully, this won't require a stove, or even Chef Mike. A bite of the lips then, at the stupid referenced joke. No, now was not the time to chuckle. Once the crisis had been fully averted, then she could giggle. But not now, not in this particular company.

It took another few minutes, but at long last, everything was ready. Bringing the items out, she was relieved to see that the strange deer had seemed to make himself at home on her sofa, lying down now with his legs tucked beneath him. His head was lowered, as was his stare; was he falling asleep?

As soon as she got another step closer however, his head immediately snapped up, vermillion gaze trained upon her once more. The woman almost threw her hands up, in reflex. As if to say “I did nothing wrong! I just live here!” That wouldnot have been good.

Instead, the words that left her mouth were far more direct. “Food! And – And drinks! I bring offerings! Uhh, here!”

Placing the items upon the floor, she looked over towards the creature, who was now surveying the two arrivals with...what was that expression? Disdain? Could animals really make such faces? Was her imagination running away with her again? What, was it not fancy enough for him? Well, ex-cuse her for shopping at the local grocery store, and not the organic place a few blocks over!

“If you want it...well, it's here. Umm. You can't reach it from there, though...” Sighing, she understood what she needed to do, for the third time that night. “I'll have to – to pick you up again, since you really shouldn't – and probably can't jump, anyway.” Here's hoping the constant handling wasn't going to have any adverse effects, either.

After another look – he was way too human for her liking! That's what it was! - she was able to lift and carry him the short way over to the arranged meal. Following a few sniffs and a paw at the plate, he finally lowered his head, to take a few bites. Just a few – he really didn't seem that keen on the greens, even though apples were supposed to be a favorite, from what she'd read in her short online scanning.

The water was much more his speed; he nearly downed the whole bowl in one go! It was only when he apparently snorted some of it up his nose and started a coughing fit that sent him toppling over – and the female into a new panic that he'd start his wound bleeding again – that he finally stopped.

“Whew...okay. Guess you were more thirsty than hungry. Huh.” Taking a look at the time on her phone – wow, it was after two a.m. already? - she wasn't sure where to go from there. She needed a shower, surely, and possibly some food of her own. Also, sleep. After her long shift, and everything that had just occurred, rest was like an old friend, beckoning to her with open arms.

However...

“What am I going to do with you?” She had to admit, she really wasn't comfortable leaving the little guy on his own. Not until she was sure he'd be all right. So, it'd be fine if she made food, but showering was a no-go, at least for tonight. She was not about to bring him into the bathroom with her!

And, what about sleeping arrangements, too? She supposed she'd just have to make him something, either out here on the floor, or in her room...also on the floor. There was no way she'd put him on the bed, it was too dangerous! Leaving him alone on the couch didn't sound like a plan, either. At best, she could just take the cushions and blanket, or even a fresh towel, for him to nest in. If deer actually made nests. Her dogs had occasionally 'made nests' for themselves out of blankets or clothes, so could he do the same? Who knew.

“It's been a long everything, and I'm tired. I'll eat later...” Not the best decision, but whatever. She'd deal with the shrunken stomach and potential nausea when she woke up. “For now...I think it's best if we just hit the hay.” Why she was bothering to relay this to her new 'companion', she didn't know. But if the personification helped her to better adjust to the current situation, then fine. So long as she didn't start having whole conversations with him. Save those for when she was glaring at her patchy reflection in the mirror.

The small creature obviously said nothing, but the look in his eyes was enough to speak for him. “Fine. I guess you've done enough for tonight. I'll let you go.” Gee, thanks. Wait, what?? Clearing her throat, she took in the sight of a slightly wet-faced red deer, sitting upon her wooden floor. “So, uhh...I'll have to – to carry you again. I hope that's alright. Once I get everything set up in the bedroom...”

A flick of an ear then. What was that supposed to mean? Heading back towards the couch, the woman scooped up the cushions only, since they weren't that dirty. Like she'd planned before, she'd just add another blanket, or a towel. At least there was an open corner in her room. She could put him there, and easily be able to see him from where she lay. When she was awake, of course.

Here's just hoping he didn't decide to get curious, if he were feeling better, and start 'investigating' her things...were deer curious creatures? Perhaps that was something else she should have looked up online. Oh well.

It didn't take too long this time to get everything set up, and transport him from the living room to the bedroom. He seemed to be almost...comfortable now, with the transport? As if bearing an air of “Yes, servant. Tend to me.” Jeez, her mind was really going. It was just an animal! A freaky looking one, but still!

Then again...did freaky really have to be a bad thing?

After changing in the bathroom, she returned to find her new company had settled in quite nicely among the laid out items. Curled up once more, he seemed to be surveying both her room and belongings with mild interest.

It wasn't anything fancy – a bit messy, actually. She had too many empty boxes from a few times she'd been able to buy products in bulk with a friend. Beyond that, there was a table and nightstand, beside the bed, which was covered in plush toys. A closet and dresser, the latter filled with medicine bottles, were to the right. A couple of bins rested against the wall. Some books and other objects were on a nearby shelf to the left. There were a few posters tacked up – bands that she enjoyed, characters she liked - and a scenic portrait.

And...a radio as well, on that same shelf to the side?

Instantly, his attention was piqued by the tiny, familiar looking red device. Complete with dials and everything. Mmm...how nice.

His focus returned to her as she began to turn down the sheets. Or, adjusted the covers, more like. The bed wasn't made to begin with. She could never be bothered. With a sweep of her hand, they were opened enough for her to crawl under. In another couple of moves, she was by the light switch.

“Well...goodnight, I guess. Sleep well. Uhh, yeah...hopefully, we'll – we'll both still be around when the sun rises in a few hours. Eheh.” Yes, it was morbid. But, after everything that had occurred tonight, as well as a few instances in her own life prior, anything could happen. She didn't quite sleep with one eye open, but without pills, it certainly wasn't undisturbed.

For this instance though, she was going to force herself to knock out without the chemicals. Just in case something did happen, she wouldn't be completely zonked out to deal with it. Those psych sleeping meds packed one mean wallop.

A faint click, and the overhead light went out. Waiting a few moments for her eyes to adjust, she was able to make her way back to the bed, climbing up from the foot. Soon enough, she was snuggling under the covers, and rolling over. Already, she could feel the weight of today crashing into her, pressing her deeper into the mattress. Her eyelids drooped, and for once, unmedicated slumber came easy.

Whether it would stick around for long though, was another question altogether.

Quiet. Absolute silence. Not a hint of anything stirring. It was as if the whole world itself had shut down for the time being. Everything, all at once, deciding to go dark.

Then...

A vivid crimson flash, from the corner of the room. Wide eyes, illuminated with an unearthly glow, were trained entirely on the unconscious figure with her back turned. A tilt of the head, as if in unspoken questioning...before a mouth split upwards, revealing sharp golden teeth.

Suddenly, in an instant, the smile and glare were gone. The creature in the corner had placed its head down, eyes closed as it too, drifted off into sleep.

…...

Meanwhile, just outside the reach of the apartment complex doors, another figure stood, watching upwards of the eighth floor. On his features as well, was a smile...though again, certainly not one to be encouraged. And this ominous expression did not disappear, even as he turned away, to make the trek back down the hill.

Chapter 3: I Fink U Freeky

Chapter Text

Ah, yet another day. The warmth of continuation from above was bestowed once more upon the varied scattered populaces. The city was coming back to life – the existence that pranced and preened among the waking hours. Shady places and characters had to hide away, as this shard of the world awoke again. Not a piece was out of place in this well-oiled machine.

This was the same for the apartment at the top of the hill.

“...mmm...” Beneath a thick pink blanket and skyline-patterned comforter, a figure was beginning to stir, as hot streams of sunlight were spread out across the layers. Beneath them, she was starting to cook.

After another couple of minutes of baking in the sun like a wrapped potato, she finally let out a groan. Eyes fluttered behind a curtain of hair. Giving in to consciousness, she carefully sat up on wobbly arms from the tangle of her bed.

“Jeez...well, at least I slept for...” Reaching over with a patented swipe, she yanked up the phone from beside her, careful not to pull too hard, lest she rip out the charger from below. The time on it read eight-thirty a.m. Earlier than her usual scheduled rising.

She'd gone to bed close to three a.m or so? Huh, that meant she'd actually managed about...five and a half hours of uninterrupted, natural sleep. Not bad. Usually, she had a tendency to wake up then, on the nights she'd crash directly upon coming home from work. Insomnia was a familiar face around her neck of the woods. Her cycle had been thrown off a little because of this, but she'd ultimately benefitted from it, in the end.

On the other side of things, though...just what was it, exactly, that had caused the disruption?

It was as she finally remembered, the events of the night before, that her eyes flew open. She was immediately dropping her cell to the side, and swinging her legs over the bed's edge, flipping her hair from in front of her face. A frantic gaze instantly landed on the corner, to take in the sight of...

...a little red deer, nearly bandaged head to toe, curled up and snoozing, so innocently, in the daylight. Jeez, he was reallybright. And it wasn't as though he were the only red thing in her room, either. Somehow, he just...stood out, in a way she couldn't explain.

Releasing a sigh of relief, the woman proceeded to stand – and nearly fall over, yet again. Why couldn't her dizziness be more predictable? Darn those meds and their side effects. It didn't even matter whether or not she took them anymore. She figured that by now, the lightheadedness was probably just chronic. Same with the tremors and shakes that messed with her body. She had good days, and bad.

Yesterday had been good. She hadn't accidentally thrown or dropped anything. Thank God, considering all that had happened. The thought of having hurt that little guy any further than he'd already been...wasn't a favorable one.

Another stretch, to straighten out her spine and neck. They were far too curved for her liking, she felt. That's what happened when you'd spent most of your life walking with your head down to the world. Clad in a hoodie and baggy pajama bottoms, her arms raised high above her head. A black inked heart, bearing a crooked smile on the back of her left hand, caught her eye for just a moment as she brought them down closer for inspection.

Yet one of the many scattered body mods she'd accumulated over her life, at various ages. When she'd needed another way out, and had the resources, to deal with the pain. Better something pretty she could reminisce on than more scars, right?

Almost instinctually, her marked hand was reaching up, to trace at the lines upon her left cheek. Yeah...about that...

No, not here and now. It was over and done; there was no going back.

Onto the main topic. She was really thinking about saving up the money, to potentially get this tattoo removed. It was one part of why she wore her gloves to begin with. Most of the art, she either loved, or could live with. This one...she wasn't so sure.

It had been designed after a character from a series she'd adored, somebody who'd spoken to her personally in his characterization. She'd been absolutely one-hundred-percent invested in the universe; it had been the greatest escape from her personal life at the time, which had been hectic and lonely. She'd been living in another lousy boarding house, the only thing she could afford on her fixed income back then.

The one highlight was that she'd just graduated college a few months prior, and had a little extra gift money set aside to treat herself. Her second reward, next to the laptop. Thus, she'd been able to shell out the $140 or so plus tip it had cost to get it done. She'd thought it would be a good reminder of everything she'd accomplished, at that point in time despite her still dismal circ*mstances. And, it was represented by someone she'd deeply identified with in a positive way.

But, years passed. She'd stopped following the series, and didn't even know what had happened to the character, let alone whether or not it was even still being produced. Perhaps the gesture had been a little too impulsive? Did it continue to bear the same meaning to her now, as it had when she'd gotten it done almost seven years ago? If it did, then she should keep it. If not, then...

Allowing her musings to trail off, she returned her attention to her companion. He's still sleeping...maybe I'll bring some fresh food and water here instead. Then he doesn't have to move. Satisfied with her current course of action, she headed for the kitchen, taking extra note to be gentle with the door as she left the room.

When she came back however, this time having to put the dish and bowl upon the floor outside in order to enter...

...she was greeted by the sight of a wobbly, blood-red deer, somehow having managed to leave his spot on the floor, to cross the room. He was on the left side now, attempting to stand against the shelf where her beloved radio sat.

The female nearly felt her heart drop into her stomach.

“NO! What are you doing?!” In one move, she was behind him, scooping him into her arms. Although there was some harsh thrashing, this time she was able to ignore it, placing him upon the makeshift nest on the other side. With a keen eye and more precise touch, she began checking the bandages wrapped around him, for any sort of disturbance. With the way he'd been stretching, he could have easily aggravated his wound!

It was good that he was able to move around some now – that wasn't the problem! He still couldn't be getting himself all worked up until he was healed a little further, that was the issue. But it wasn't as though she could entirely control a wild animal -

Oh, crap. Another thud of her heart, as she looked back at the device. What...was she going to do when she had to go to work? She couldn't possibly bring him with her, could she? No, of course not! Too dangerous, too many questions! Still...would he be in decent enough shape to trust being left on his own here? She only had today and tomorrow to spend with him, before she'd have to resume her job.

She couldn't just call in sick for however long it took to nurse him back to health! This was an important gig! One day, maybe. But more than that? It would be tough trying to get someone to cover – they'd most likely have to do it entirely automatic, which, running for ten hours? On multiple days in a row? Maybe even weeks, depending on the amount of healing required? Yeah, no. Not gonna happen. Even on weekends, they at least had paid programming to fill in for the times without any DJs.

She couldn't exactly blow her vacation time right now, either. If she actually got sick, be it physical or otherwise, she needed that safety net. Sometimes, just sometimes...she couldn't always guarantee her cooperation with herself. Thankfully, those instances were fewer and far between now, than when she was younger. But they still had the potential, to crop up every once in a blue moon. And, although she was worried about the little guy...she couldn't justify using up all of her extra days, just to play nurse.

So then...what? What was the plan once Monday rolled around?

Crud...maybe I was too quick on the draw here? No...like she'd really regret saving him, whatever the upheaval to her schedule and routine. That didn't change the fact that she was at an impasse. In this moment, the only course of action she could take, was waiting until it was time to head out again, and see just how much progress he'd made in his recovery. He certainly wouldn't be ready for release. But, if it was just enough, then...maybe she could let him be alone temporarily.

By now, he'd stopped fussing, and she had finished her checks. There didn't seem to be anything wrong on the surface. She'd keep an eye on him, but in this moment, it seemed as though she could relax. Rising to her feet, she brought in the almost forgotten food supplies, grabbing and placing them down in front of him.

Again, he drank the water, though not as greedily as before. However, when it came to the fruits and veggies, he continued to merely pick at a few of them, before seeming to, quite literally, turn his nose up. There was almost a haughty look on his face as he looked away. Well then.

Guess I gotta go and find out what else deer like to eat, because this one ain't having it. And I ain't having him starve to death on my watch. “Particular, aren't you...?” Shaking her head, the woman glanced over her shoulder towards the window. The faint glint of crimson caught her eye. That's right – now, there were two small, red things in her space.

The radio. Had that been what he'd been so eager to go for in the first place? If so...why?

Walking over, she proceeded to pick it up in her hands. She'd forgotten to plug it back onto the charger after the last use, so she'd have to do that now if she wanted to listen to it again. It was beside the bed on her side, and the cord was short. A brief snort then. He'd have to come closer if he really wanted to see it.

And that's exactly what he was doing. Upon turning, she nearly let out a shriek; the creature had crept up right behind her legs, and was staring at her now in an almost...demanding sort of way? What, could deer pick up on frequencies, or something? Did her radio smell good? Did this animal know, somehow, what it was? Perhaps he was a music fan? What was this nonsense filtering so freely through her head?!

“Okay, okay! I get it! Sheesh!” Making her way over to the plug, the small being proceeded to trot along behind her, slowly, but seemingly pleased as punch with her response and actions. Placing it on the charger, her mind began to wander, yet again.

This item was another of her most treasured belongings. It was a new creation, but styled to resemble something from a bygone era. She'd liked the look, and the color, which was part of why she'd purchased it. The other, more prominent reason...

She'd just gotten her job at the station, and wanted to celebrate. No crazy tattoos this time. She'd always liked music growing up, in particular the radio. She would listen to it all, and pretend right along with the broadcasts. As though she were in a studio herself, putting on a show for all to hear. A few times, she'd even recorded herself, on a kid's tape player. Those cassettes were lost to time, thankfully.

She'd never actually thought about it as a real career back then; she'd just been a struggling kid, unsure of who she was, or if she was worth a damn at all. Whoops, swearing jar. A runt just trying to find some sort of comfort and refuge. Imagination had been one of her only guides throughout her life, though the results hadn't always been pretty. But, at least most of the time...they'd been fun. And, wasn't that what counted in the end?

She hadn't had her own radio in years. And although many people appreciated satellite or personalized online sites, she would always prefer a regular station. In particular, she'd always been fond of the oldies channel, and music before her time, so imagine her delight when that was the group willing to accept her! No matter her age or appearance, they'd welcomed her in, whole-heartedly. Even more than that, when she'd ascended the ranks, and wound up taking over the afternoon slot when the prior host had been switched out.

But it had all started...with a radio, and a childhood dream. One of the only few that was untarnished, just not fully realized until much further down the line. When she'd had to grow up fast, and then some. When life had kicked her to the curb, and pissed on her gate. Did this count as a swearing jar, too?

Almost nine...I don't think the music starts up again until ten. That was when Mary checked in – a breezy local woman, with a zany sense of humor. Although she wanted to support her station, talking heads too, were near impossible for her to sit through. Looking down at the rather agitatedly enthusiastic animal beside her, she knew she couldn't put him through that, either. If he really did have some sort of thing for music, that was.

So, turning the lower knob with a faint click a few places, she then reached up, to twist the larger main dial. Skipping over the chatting with a pop of static, a few stations down, was a song coming through.

“Here you go. Enjoy.” The creature beside her was practically dancing on his tip-toes – Please don't do that, not yet – as the sound filtered through the room. Some fresh new bop; even among the recent titles, she didn't recognize this one.

Then, he suddenly stopped; his head co*cked at an angle, ears flicking almost violently. The expression to his features...as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing? Was that a good thing, or bad? Figuring she couldn't get any crazier than she already was, the woman began explaining. So much for her earlier vow of not holding a conversation.

“It's called Alternative. It's a type of music, that's kinda made up of various genres, but not so mainstream? This station has stuff from rock and roll, mostly. Or at least, it used to. It's gotten a lot different than what I grew up with. Guess things will never stop changing." A pause then. "They play older songs every so often, like from the nineties, but I don't hate the new scene. It can be a bit much, but it's never really bad. Listen to anything long enough, and you're bound to find something you'll like.” The twitching in his ears had seemed to settle some, though his expression still seemed wary. Should she change the station, maybe? What was he going to do, attempt to tackle the radio itself? Hopefully not...

Gradually, the song faded out, and a new one started. Lucky, looks like they'd tuned in at the right time. Wonder of wonders – it was a classic hit coming on now, just like she'd been discussing not a moment ago!

Okay, thirteen years. A little over a decade. Old enough for her, whatever. Even better – it was one she knew by heart! And she hadn't heard it in ages! The smile was threatening to erupt across her face; she was holding it back by sheer willpower alone, and a lot of biting. They weren't the greatest, or most comfortable look for her. Now she was the one practically dancing where she sat. In another few chords, the lyrics began. She couldn't help it – the words were flowing from her mouth before she realized she'd even started.

“If I only had a heart to give

I'd offer every piece, to you.

Beyond the dark, I cannot live,

And to my cause, I must stay true...”

Instantly, the deer's head had snapped up, to look in her direction. That sound...this human was singing? She could sing??Sing along to whatever this bizarre noise was? And what were these words, too??

“To my shadows, beckons your light.

Purity waltzes with temptation.

What's wrong is wrong – I will never be right,

So make up your mind, no trepidation.”

As if operating under instinct, his eyelids began to droop, earlier nerves at the unfamiliarity ebbing away like water in the rolling tide. Without any further hesitation, he allowed himself to get lost in the melody being produced, from both sides.

Yes...this human could sing.

Ahh, how this brought back such memories! Two years before she'd started college, this song had been like an anthem for her. Why, she didn't know. It was just so mesmerizing and beautifully miserable – a harmonious tragedy from start to finish, that had spoken to her lost soul all those nights ago, when she'd first heard it on this very station.

When she'd been holding the problem – or the solution – right in her trembling hands. It all depended on how you viewed the outcome.

“Oh, my dear summer bride,

To keep your warmth here at my side.

But I'm a haunted house unbound,

From this fact, you cannot hide.”

Chorus...this was a song with no center hook, she had realized, at some point. It was far more like poetry with instruments than anything else. Perhaps that's what made it stand out so much more so in her mind's eye. The tale of two distinct halves, who could not live without the other, even while being absolutely toxic opposites. One was asking the other if they could stay, no matter how ugly the truth. No matter if 'love' couldn't save them. Was it worth the risk, the loss? Was there any sort of gain to be found here? Was any sort of affection really meant to exist among the damned?

“I'll never allow the mask to slip,

Though through my lies you may peruse.

With these hands stained in sin,

My darling, please...you must choose.”

Music...so, this was what music had become, in his time away? Well, perhaps, if it were to all sound like this...it was fine? It was acceptable? He wouldn't die from hearing it, surely.A scoff under his breath. Of course not! These were the thoughts running through the bemused crimson creature's head, as he simply sat there upon the floor. Utterly entranced by this meat puppet, with her naively trusting spirit...

...and her delectable vocals.

“You decide to stay? So be it.

The sun is swallowed by the moon.

One vile, star-crossed eclipse,

A fond embrace, ended too soon.”

The finale was coming on in three more parts. She could practically feel her heart beating out of her chest, swelling with emotion. This was where things picked up, to a startling degree. The song went from tepidly macabre, to unabashedly morbid. And still, it was an absolute masterpiece.

“I will devour you whole,

Every inch held near and dear.

Through you, I was taught love,

By me, you will learn fear.”

Here, an instrumental break. As the female did her best to calm her nerves – seriously, it wasn't like she were actually performing! - a sudden thought darted through her mind: what was her new friend up to? Had he possibly gotten bored, or wandered off? With a jerk of anxiety, she looked toward her feet -

Only to see the most haunting sight, of full, scarlet eyes, regarding her as if she were...well...what was that look?

Had she ever had anyone, or anything, stare at her in such a manner before? No, she couldn't remember. It was...she couldn't quite describe it. Eerie?/Flattering?/Scary?/Interesting? It was again...far too human, for a mere animal to be producing. Was she just losing what was left of her mind? Or, was it feasible to believe, that this animal...

...was actually enjoying her impromptu show?

“Your light, naught but for me cast.

Freedom is merely a dream of the past.

My affection, your damnation,

The beloved, eternal aberration.”

Here it was – the final parting words to this kooky melodic journey. But even as the lyrics left her lips, her gaze was still trained entirely on the being beneath her. It was like being hypnotized two times over. By the song...and his fixation. The scrutiny of something that shouldn't have been capable of such gestures.

“You will smile for only me,

And I will take all that I wish.

Do not ever weep, it was your choice,

My sweet summer bride...ignorance is bliss.”

The last three words seemed to linger upon the air, as the notes faded away, allowing the next song to come through.

Or not. A shrilly jovial series of voices suddenly piped up, cutting the tension like the sharpest blade. She felt her heart jolt so hard, she nearly fell off from the bed. However, this did serve to also effectively break whatever sort of secondary spell she'd been under, as her gaze was now forcibly wrenched away from the little deer's.

What...what was that? What was that?? Was it...just the song? Did I just go on one heck of a nostalgia trip? Did I have some sort of...episode, I don't know? All these questions had come roaring to life in her mind, as timidly, she looked towards the direction of the curious creature.

It seemed as though he were back to normal now, whatever that entailed for something like him. He was yawning, turned towards the door. Apparently, the current talk bored him. Join the club – this station wasn't locally run, and their program segments could be kind of obnoxious at times. They still had a ways to wait though, before hers started up properly for the day.

She felt another loaded thud in her chest. Her thoughts darted back to the prior occurrence. Did that mean, then...could that have ever meant, in any universe...that this creature...had not only been listening, but understood the words leaving her lips? And why...was this such a concern to her?

Was it merely because of how fu – erm, effed up the song's meaning was? Or, was it because, the look in his eyes as he'd watched her sing – the disturbing intensity with which he'd seemed to follow her every action, and his general mannerisms before this, as well, on top of his appearance...

...seemed to all hint, darkly teasing, at a compelling fourth option; to follow the other three she'd brainstormed the night before? Of this animal not being a natural creation at all? Beyond just DNA or purpose?

As in...supernatural?

No...yes. This is weird. Insanely so. A deep inhale. But, you haven't gone completely off your rocker! You're just...reading too much into it. She gulped softly. Yeah, that's it. He's got a history, sure, but it's most likely more painful than frightening. For him, at least.

She held back another swear under her breath. For crying out loud! He's not going to hurt you, and it's on you to keep him safe, to the best of your abilities, until he's ready to leave.

An unexpected pang then. That's right...when it was time for him to go back to wherever he came from. The woods, clearly, since that's where she'd found him. Nowhere else. So he could continue growing up, and live out the rest of his days in peace. She certainly wasn't surrendering him to anyone. All she had to do, was care for him until that time came. Then, they'd never see each other again. She'd never cross paths with this pint-sized freak show as long as she lived.

On the other side of things, though...did freaky only have to be negative?

What had he done against her? It was just overactive nerves running away with her again! In this instance, her anxiety was dealing her quite the lousy hand. He was trusting her to care for him. And, weird though it might have been, for once in her life...she'd had an audience while doing something else that she loved. An audience that seemed to have been quite enamored with her unplanned routine. Not even her weekly listeners could attest to that. She'd never dared to sing in front of anyone, not ever. That was a line she'd refused to cross.

Music was a great passion, and singing...was far too personal a show of adoration towards the medium for her liking. He'd be the only living creature to have ever witnessed such a feat. She had no clue if she were even any good at it!

Good, bad? Who really knew anymore? This was all too much for a Saturday morning. That song was absolutely playing havoc with her head! He was just an innocent deer, albeit unconventionally hued and marked. It was on her to protect him. She'd promised, after all.

With that mostly settled, she went to grab her pills from the dresser, along with bottoms, then her closet, to pick out a top. Her newest worry: grocery shopping with the little guy on board. Again, the former issue was facing her head-on; looks like she'd have to figure things out sooner than expected.

Yep...normal was definitely out the window by this point.

Chapter 4: Lazy Boy Dash

Chapter Text

“Ah, schnikes...can't believe I'm actually doing this.”

It was just about noon. The sun was directly overhead, though the earlier glow had been rather diminished from its first return to the land of the living. Thick grey clouds had rolled in, dropping ominous hints towards a waterlogged Easter Sunday. If that were the case, then outside hunting for dyed eggs while stuffing your face with chocolate was the last place you'd want to be, come any torrential downpours.

Of course...there were other reasons a person could be anxious about touching grass. Like when you were in the middle of a desperately needed supply run with a distinct little secret in tow, one that couldn't afford to be divulged.

See also: a shopping trip with her new carmine-hued buddy.

It had taken a whole ton of pacing, stud fiddling, tongue-chewing, hair-pulling, knuckle cracking, and finally vocalized self-debating, for her to ultimately realize...she couldn't leave the dang deer at home alone.

In the end, it was too soon to trust him on his own. She'd just patched him up yesterday, when he'd been less than a hair's breadth away from death's door. Even if he seemed to be a bit more chipper now – and definitely more mysterious – that didn't mean she was okay with just ditching him at the first possible opportunity! There was so much he could get into if left to his own devices in her abode, which was why, as terrifying as it was to consider...

...she'd had to bite the bullet, and get 'er done. He had to come out with her. Now, the question remained: how?

Obviously, she'd be carrying him. Wasn't like you could walk a deer, or that she could pass him off as another sort of critter either, to attempt the 'service animal' angle. But, it couldn't be in just any old bag. Her backpack was too small, only enough for carrying her phone, purse, and maybe a book. And her laptop's messenger bag wasn't good either, still not the right size or sturdiness. She had to be able to hide him thoroughly, while transporting him easily. On her back or at her side, while indeed close, were not well-balanced, hanging above.

It wasn't until she'd begun digging through her closet once more, nearly cracking her knee on a suitcase, that she'd spied it, from the corner of her eye, hiding on the other side of her dresser:

A rolling bag.

She'd only used it a handful of times; when she'd first moved in, when she'd been invited to a three day convention. It was deep, and roomy, despite being compact. His whole body could fit in there, and then some! Being low to the ground also meant that she wouldn't have to worry about him falling, though it still had straps, just in case it needed to be picked up crossing rough territory...like shoddily patched up sidewalks.

Perfect. It was about as close to perfect as she was going to get. She could even store her reusable tote in one of the outside pockets, just in case anyone tried to hassle her about bringing the thing in to begin with. The market she went to didn't have any bag size policies, but depending on who was around that day, and what you looked like, it was still possible to incur the wrathful eye of some busybody or 'good samaritan' who just had to stick their nose where it didn't belong.

Heck, she still had the memory of being stalked by a security guard from another establishment there. They'd taken a look at her attire for the day, then her face, when she'd been putting her phone away, and had refused to stop tailing her throughout the aisles. By the time she'd checked out, the older woman had been very nearly breathing down her neck as she'd paid for her things.

Anyway. The point was, this was probably the most prepared she could possibly be in regards to this situation. So, it was either she do it now, and see if it actually worked, or stay at home and eventually starve to death, because she couldn't live off of coffee, limited vegetation, and radio switchboards, if she were able to make it into work at all. This was a big risk she was taking here, but...she had no other options.

Besides, she wasn't just buying stuff for herself. Since her pint-sized pal wasn't eating what she was giving him, she had to try something else. Specific nut mixes were another option, so it was on her to see if the market had any of what she needed in stock. Hopefully, they did. Otherwise...well, looks like she'd be on her way to a new adventure, I.e another store.

“Oi. You good down there?” Obviously, there was nothing but silence, as she wheeled the carrier before her. In front, so she could keep better track. There was no rule saying a roller bag had to be pulled behind you. As long as it was designed to be managed in such a way, then pushing it like a wheelchair was just fine. If anybody gave her any looks...well, who really cared anyway?

Okay, she did, a little. But, it wasn't like they didn't occasionally give her the odd glance to begin with. She'd be able to quash the budding anxieties by focusing on the mission at hand instead. The sooner she could get done, the better.

The very top of the bag had been left open, allowing her to peer in just so. The faintest puff of red could be seen dead-center. It seemed as though he'd curled up quite comfortably inside, and was enjoying the ride. Yeah, he'd better appreciate all the intensive labor she was putting in for him...oh, who was she kidding? He was an unusual animal with attitude. Of course he didn't.

And then, of course, there was the possibility...if they were discovered, and she did get in trouble, it would almost definitely get back to her job. From there...well, she could presumably consider her life up in smoke. Like any station would really want to keep on some weirdo animal smuggler-slash-abuser. Heck, any business, in general. What sort of mark was that to have on your record?

The trip to the shop was dull, just the way it should have been. Aside from a slight uptick in traffic, due to the weekend activities of the upcoming holiday, and the possible bad weather, there were no problems. She'd even gotten lucky, and managed to avoid any of the treacherous terrain today, meaning that her partner in crime had been treated to a smooth ride. The crowds had just...seemed to flow right.

In no time at all, she had been making her way through the sliding doors, and grabbing a basket. She didn't need all the extra space of a cart. Just get in, get out, and go home. And, if she really couldn't find what she was looking for here, then fine. She'd try another place. She might even be willing to give the organics shop a shot.

For now...the plan.

With how often she visited this place, it was no surprise that a few of the clerks recognized her, offering a wave or a “Hi” in passing. Not much more than that, thankfully. The woman was glad though that today, nobody she knew seemed to be making the rounds. She couldn't afford to be potentially stopped for anything. She could browse the rows for as long or as little as she wanted, without any chit-chat or hassle. The last thing she needed, was her companion deciding to pop up at the most inopportune moment, and send the whole plan to Hoboken, New Jersey.

Two frozen dinners. A single-serve milk bottle. One bag of chips. One pack of cookies. One box of cheesy crackers. One bottle of tea, one bottle of soda, and one can of Cosmopolitan. Because after all the stress she was experiencing, as well as was still in for, she needed all the extra relaxation tools she could get. Just a little, though. She wasn't looking to get wasted. And, some pecans. Maybe if she sprinkled the suckers over the greens, he'd stomach them better.

Or, she could just shovel the nuts down his throat...that sounded awful. Please provide the brain bleach now.

It wasn't too hard to grab the majority of what she needed. There wasn't much of a crowd, and the shelves were mostly well-stocked. Another stroke of good fortune, seeing the circ*mstances that she currently found herself in. Being able to find everything she needed easily helped keep the momentum going. It was almost like a mantra running through her mind. Get in, get out, get home. Get in, get out, get home. Get in, get out, get home. Lather, rinse, repeat.

And then...there was the mixed nut section.

Of course. Of course the pecans would be on the highest shelf, and the last bag had been pushed back just so away from the edge. The shelves weren't that much taller than her, but still. It'd be a pain to get them down, and that's if she could do it without any involuntary shudders or twitches. If she tipped that bag over, she could kiss it goodbye, unless she really wanted to do the walk of shame and grab a clerk. One she didn't know, no less.

Considering she was currently on 'borrowed time', as it was, what with her little floofy stick of dynamite...yeah, no. Not happening. She'd be forced to concede defeat, and plan a second trip to wherever the darn things were sold. And who knew how long it had been since the last time he'd even eaten to begin with. Maybe she should just wait it out; if he got truly hungry, he might finally chow down? Did she want to take that chance, though? He was...special, after all. Were deers capable of things like hunger strikes?

Unless the not eating was due to some sort of...internal damages...

Grab it! Just hurry up and do it! In order to dispel the images flooding back, of her unintended new roommate bleeding out like a stuck pig, the female was practically throwing herself at the shelf, bag and basket a short ways away. This was to avoid accidentally knocking things down, or hitting them, should she trip up in any way. Her back was turned, so it was literally a rush job here. She had to hurry and grab the pecans, before any of her worries had the chance to come true!

As she was currently in the process of struggling with her prize just out of reach, however...an unwanted scenario was about to rear its ugly head, and play out directly behind her. A young man, clad in dark attire with a lowered hat over his eyes, was currently scoping her out, the lone person down the entire aisle. In particular...the rolling rucksack.

Shop merch was one thing. But unattended customer belongings? There was always a chance that something sweet could be sitting inside, just waiting to be plucked. Like a chicken's feathers, or strawberries off a vine. And this dumb bitch, she was too busy fighting with whatever was on the shelf to even care that he was about to sneak in, and haul ass with her goods. All he had to do, was slide up, snatch, and slide back out. He'd done this how many times before, and hadn't been caught yet. Hell, the damn thing even had wheels! It was a surefire win for him!

Without missing a beat, the male put his plan into action. Everything was running smoothly; she still hadn't gotten the pecans, and he was facing her bag head-on. With a practiced flick of the wrist, he'd gotten hold of the handle, and slowly, began to slide it away silently across the floor.

Uh? Hang on – this thing was a little heavier than he'd expected. As he looked down mid-step, a sudden impression of motion across the fabric halted him. Wait a minute...what the hell was that? Why was her bag...starting to wiggle?

The zipper was partially open. In a moment of sheer confusion as the situation had changed, the would-be crook pulled at the cord, to widen the gap.

In an instant, a streak of bouncy red. Before the thief could say anything, a familiar head had popped out, wide eyes taking in the sight of...well, someone who was most certainly not his human. Nor was he anyone that she'd ever made mention of, in their short time together. His shoddy appearance only served as another detractor against him. Putting two and two together, it was clear to see...

...that this man was a stranger to his caretaker. To both of them. Which made him also, very much so...an enemy. A threat. To his new safe home, as well as he himself.

And oh, but...that just wouldn't do.

Another vivid flash of crimson eyes, followed by...something unspeakable. Absolutely indescribable, in all the worst ways possible. It was everything and nothing, all at once, in his vision.

The man wanted to cry out, wanted to flee – but his voice was swallowed up entirely by the image before him. It all happened in a matter of seconds, and felt like an eternity. A fleeting, scarring abomination of a sight. He fell onto the floor, panting and gasping, scrambling backwards and trying not to slip on sweaty palms.

Run. RunrunrunrunrunrunrunRUN - ! In another couple of moves, he was on his feet, and booking it as fast as he could. Not another syllable left his lips; all the screaming was locked entirely in his head.

The female, amazingly, hadn't noticed any of this happening. No, she'd been caught up in the first moment of her fingers finally brushing plastic. She'd been far too ecstatic and excited to focus on anything beyond that. The red deer took note of the innocent maiden – and yes, to the observing creature, that's what she'd be classified as – still determined to get those confounded nuts for him.

He had to sigh to himself. If he left her to it, more street rats might come sniffing around...and he currently didn't have it in him to keep putting on free shows. He wasn't quite up to snuff just yet. On top of that, at this rate of her progress, they'd be here until the store closed, or until someone else came by to take pity on the daft woman. A huff then.

Fine. One more 'good deed' wouldn't hurt, right? Seeing as this was all being done for his benefit and survival anyway. With a blink of red eyes, the bag proceeded to fall forwards, right into her stunned grasp, when she'd been just about to pull a tired arm down for a few seconds break.

She...hadn't been touching it. It had just...had that just happened? What, had there been a breeze or something? She hadn't felt any gusts – maybe she'd simply been tinkering with it long enough to offset its balance...and then, gravity had done the rest? Science and math were really not her strong suit. She had no idea how to explain this, other than Uhh, yeah! Score! As long as things had worked out for the best, then that's all that really mattered in the end, right?

“Yeah! Now we can go home!” Spinning around, she faced her belongings and little buddy...lying still right where she'd left them, not a single piece disturbed. A last little trick for the road.

Dropping the pecans in the basket, she slipped an arm through one handle while grabbing hold of the other to push. With that, they made their way out of the aisle with a new spring in their step.

Or at least, she was peppy. Had she known what, exactly, had just gone down a few minutes prior, that joy might have been a tad diminished. Though...it wasn't like that riff raft was about to go running his mouth anytime soon, either.

More accurately – he couldn't. Such was the power of an “eternal aberration”. Heh.

…...

Upon arriving back at the apartment, she had proceeded to unpack everything, starting with the oddball animal. He'd offered her a long yawn and a co*cked head, as if in questioning, upon being removed from his wheeled nest. A flawless performance, to the most unsuspecting of audiences. From there came the groceries.

Once they were stored away, she sat upon the couch. “Well, that was...surprisingly tame. Not that I'm complaining – I'm glad! Things could've gone a whole lot worse!” Who was she really talking to here? Her new friend? At this point, could they really be considered friends? Glancing over, she saw that he was simply seated on his haunches, looking towards the door. Huh, maybe he'd actually liked that trip out? Perhaps she should have considered bringing him with her further...could that be part of the healing process, too? Getting fresh air on occasion?

Well...maybe small trips won't be so bad. But I still don't know what I'm gonna do about work. A momentary slump of the shoulders then. There was a difference between going to the store, and being cooped up in a studio for almost half a day, let alone in a bag. It wasn't as though she could expect him to stay in there that long.

Oh, well. I still have one more day before I need to make a decision. So, she'd let the matter drop again. With that settled, she clasped her hands together, a smile on her face. “But hey! We got everything we needed! I'm good! And now, I've got something extra for you, too!”

Spinning on her heel, she headed back towards the kitchen. It had been a while since she'd eaten, and she was finally feeling properly hungry. So, she was going to take this time to make something small for herself, too. A serving from her new snacks, perhaps? She'd save the meals for later.

As she walked, she didn't catch sight of the way the smaller creature watched her form passing by, red eyes narrowing slightly. They lingered on her, taking in every detail in silence. The layered clothing, the tired green eyes, the way her hair fell, the lines on her face. This person...

She was the perfect shelter for his bright and shining future, caring so darn much for him. And he hadn't had to do a thing to start it. He hadn't been busy with any sort of business on his end. He'd simply found himself in unexpected dire circ*mstances, when she'd stumbled in like a drunken angel with broken wings. Emphasis on the 'broken', heh. Far too kind and vulnerable. She had willingly opened herself up to him. Offering her energy, her heart, her soul...

...and that absolutely enchanting voice she bore.

The effort she was expending was beyond entertaining, especially with the knowledge he was privy to. I.e the fact that he was far more than she could have ever predicted. Certainly, it did make things interesting to think about. What would she do if she found out...exactly who it was she'd chosen to save? Oh, that was going to be a hoot, too!

Ah, feelings. He'd never return a scrap of them. Not one iota. But he could always play a part, right? So long as he got his kicks, there was nothing wrong with a bit of a long con. This one...would definitely fall into that category. And then some, once everything else came together.

For now though, he'd have to wait. Although the healing process was going well, it would still be a little while before he'd be back to fighting fit. However, as long as she kept on tending to him as she was, beyond just the first-aid...nothing would impede it.

He'd make sure of it.

Upon finishing her food, the female made her way back to the living room. Her companion was simply seated on her couch, looking quite cozy and snug where he sat. As she joined him, a realization suddenly came to mind.

“That's right...you have no name.” His ears twitched. “At some point, I'm gonna have to call you by something...yeah?” Taking a good look at the creature curled up beside her, she tilted her head. In response, he lifted his, brow slightly furrowed. As if to ask “What are you doing? You're not serious, right?”

Oh, what a silly human, indeed. Getting so attached. This was just going to make his job easier in the long run...though he certainly wasn't going to approve any sort of rechristening. If she insisted on addressing him, he wasn't responding. He had a perfectly good name as-is.

Soon enough, she'd know it too.

“Hmm...well, you are red, so...I could just call you 'Red', though that's kinda really simple?” She bit at her lower lip, before fiddling once more with the stud underneath. He didn't seem to care for it much, either; if deer could deadpan, that's probably what he'd be doing at that very moment. His expression was very much one of cold, flat “Don't even think about it” vibes. So she wasn't going to bother trying to argue it.

Guess I'll have to give it another shot... Thinking it over a couple of minutes, her eyes lit up, at a new idea. “What about 'Aka'? That translates to 'red'!” Part of her heritage coming into the equation here. At least it was a little different?

Nope, still not good enough. His face hadn't changed. She could practically feel the chill in the air. Tough crowd, huh? “Maybe...you just don't want to be named anything that has to do with colors? They're too basic for you?” Was she really just over-personifying this guy? Did he honestly have any opinions on whatever she called him? For goodness sake, he wasn't a dog or a cat! He was a wild animal, who didn't understand such concepts as monikers! Right?? She could call him 'Ding-Dong Head' and it wouldn't matter!

Still, though...that look to his features. It made her both uneasy, and curious. The woman couldn't help it; there was a part of her that was, honestly, enjoying this adorable little upheaval to her routine. Strange as he was, she had to admit that she wanted to learn more, and see just how far this escapade of crossed frequencies would go. How it would all eventually turn out for them, in their short time together. Of anybody in the world, or just the area, she'd been the one to find him.

And she couldn't help but feel...a tiny bit special herself.

“No, you need...something better. More...dignified? Is that the word I want here?” She was mumbling, mostly to herself. By this point, the animal was about to close his eyes, and doze for a little while. There wasn't much else he could do here...unless she wanted to sing for him again. He wouldn't mind that at all.

“Al...” The sudden utterance made his hair stand on end. His head whipped up, as he regarded her incredulously. Had...she just, in a stroke of dumb luck, guessed his real name?!

Then, a few more letters came forth. “...phonse.” The red deer almost fell head-first off the couch. No, she was just still hung up on giving him one to begin with! Despite his inner smile being unchanged, he was shooting her the harshest glare he could manage in his form. And, it seemed to be working – she had frozen, going slightly pale.

Uhh...I think it's time to stop. He really doesn't look happy. That was her best shot, anyway; she didn't know any fancier guy's names than that, which actually looked like they could have fit him. The 'Al', at least. For some reason. Taking in a deep breath, she pulled out her famous starting word. “S-Sorry. I'll drop it.” Instantly, he was turned away, preening to himself. Didn't matter what form he was in. He still commanded attention.

Then, the soft call. “But...I at least want you to know mine.” A glance back over a tiny shoulder. What was she going on about now? “I mean, not that you'll care, one way or the other, it just...feels right. Nobody else would understand it, I just...want you to know who I am.”

For a few moments, silence. The words lingered inside the deer's head, longer than he'd expected them to. Know who she was, hmm? Nobody else would understand? He was pretty sure he already had a good idea to her character, and he didn't need her name for that. If she wanted to draw the noose tighter around her own neck, though...

...then, so be it. “I'm Beth. Beth S. Okino. It's very nice, to meet you.” A small bow of the head. “As long as we're in this situation...I hope you'll be happy. I'll do whatever I can to help.”

Of course, it would have been stupid to expect anything other than what she was seeing now. He was regarding her with a seeming half-interest, head only slightly lifted, even as his heavy-lidded eyes were trained on her person. This whole display would have looked so ridiculous from the outside. She could only imagine what the creature was thinking. “Leave me alone”, perhaps?

In actuality...

His expression refused to betray the swirl of thoughts behind his crimson gaze. This human...she was absolutely...no, so insanely naive.

Naive, ha! She was practically offering herself up to him on a silver platter, to do whatever he wished! Giving him her near whole name?? Oh, what a catch he'd found! He'd hauled in the best one, by winding up in the arms of this, how had she described herself last night - “a bleeding heart”? Yes, that was perfect. The next leg of his existence was going to go just smashingly, with someone like this on the hook! As long as he was, ugh, vulnerable, she'd be his ticket to recovery. Until he had no more use for her and her services.

On the other side of things, though...

Deep down inside, there was a little part of him, that appreciated the care and toil for a different reason. He wasn't entirelyheartless; it was a good deed she was doing here, that benefitted him quite nicely, on top of everything else. He wasn't adverse to rewarding somebody's best efforts. And, it was fascinating, endearing even, to be treated in such a manner by such a being.

To interact with somebody whose first reaction wasn't immediate hatred, fear, or blind adoration. With somebody who saw him as something to be considered in a completely different manner than how anyone else chose to. It was...unique. Beyond that, too – those words she'd uttered, just the night before, so impassioned in her plea, still lingered at the very edges of his mind:

“I don't want you to die!” Did she? Did she really want someone like him to stay alive? To remain upon this Earth, fully unleashed and awakened? He hadn't experienced such a thing in...

Well. Who knew when really, if ever. What did it matter, anyway?

Perhaps, if he truly wanted it to be so...it could even all come back around, and work out thoroughly in his favor. Just mesh and meld both sides together. He'd be back on top in no time, and all the stronger for it.

As for her...

“Man...I think I'm gonna go and take a nap. C'mon, I'll feed you after, if you'll actually eat this time. But you're not wandering around out here.” Without another word, the now-named Beth had scooped him up, and was bringing him back in the direction of the bedroom. Huh, she was getting real comfortable just carting him around now, wasn't she? A soft huff under his breath.

Maybe she'd turn the radio on again, before she fell asleep. Or, he could attempt to find a way of convincing her. Doe-eyes, perhaps? This form did come with a few advantages. He just wasn't always the greatest at utilizing them. The earlier intimidation seemed to have worked pretty well, perhaps he'd stick with that.

But...so had the moment they'd shared during the song. A pause then. Who'd started it first? And where would it end?

These questions were cut off, as with a soft click, the bedroom door closed behind them.

Chapter 5: Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These

Chapter Text

Heh. She was so unsuspecting, so preciously unaware in her comfort. Her drive for the day-to-day was enchanting to observe; had been so for how long now, once he'd been able to actually track her down.

Among the gathered faces that had come and gone during Beth's earlier trek out and about, one had lingered. One had remained, from the time she'd stepped foot out of her apartment, to when she'd passed through the doors of the market, and had made her way back home. A single mask, betraying not a one of the vile and lascivious desires lurking beneath the surface.

How had it all begun, this unspoken game of cat and mouse? And where, or when, would it conclude? Ah, he could still remember it so vividly, in his mind's eye...the beauty of the start. Beauty from pain.

It was after a rough day, that he'd tuned in, to that particular station. Due to a dispute between him and his coworkers earlier on, he'd been fired from his job. Some unfounded complaints, about him being a creep. Invasive, intrusive, lewd. A few of the words that had been leveled against him. Those had been volunteered by the women, if he recalled correctly.

Such yappy bitches, trying to make things unnecessarily harder for him. That's the way it always was. Nice guys like him just didn't stand a chance in today's world. And those stupid dumb meatheads jumped right on board to take the bait; would always swoop in to play white knight, if it led to a chance for them to get laid. Insipid troglodytes, the whole lot of them!

Whatever, it didn't matter! He had skills, they just weren't being utilized by the companies he applied to. And he could find more work, easily enough. There was always a high turnover rate in his field. And no matter the unwarranted black marks, companies were always desperate for more ready and willing labor. Even if it meant potentially going against the grain.

Most of the time though, they wouldn't even bother with a background check to begin with. It was just a hassle, going through the same song and dance, and being burdened with the memories of abuse and accusations.

This was, ultimately, the way of the working world.

It wasn't always the most glamorous, to be an adult. But, he considered himself far better at the game than any of his simple-minded colleagues. They hadn't been through what he had. They weren't attuned to the experiences he'd lived. Soon enough, it would all pay off, and then – then, they'd be sorry. He'd win his prize...

...the one that was dancing on airwaves, every week, just out of his reach, with a voice to rival the angels. His girl. His one and only. His Beth.

It had been after that horrible showing that he'd been flicking through channels haphazardly. In his blind rage, he was ready at any given moment to just say “f*ck it!” and tear the knobs off entirely.

But, it was as an old melody had been fading away, into a brief pause...that he'd heard it.

“Alright, and that was 'Love Hurts', by Nazareth. A bit of a counter-point to the big V-Day, coming up just around the corner, but. It takes all kinds to move the world, am I right?” Instantly, the tone had caught him off-guard. A sweet womanly voice, caught in between fresh-faced youth, and cool maturity. She was so...pleasant, and welcoming, to his tired, strained ears.

A soft chuckle. “Well, whether you're celebrating with someone special, or going solo, just know there's always a place for you to tune in here, at this station. I'll be on-air all afternoon of, so feel free to call in with your requests, your rants, and your randomness.”

He'd been practically pressed into the dashboard by this point, nearly cutting off an SUV as he'd drifted too far into the next lane. A few angry honks were enough to correct his driving, but not to steal his attention away from the woman who'd effortlessly captured his heart, with just those few lines. “Coming up next, we've got the Beatles, some Stampeders, and a bit of the Turtles, to ease you into the evening. For now, with the latest in traffic, here's...”

That was where it had started. He'd soon learned her name – Beth. Just Beth. At first, he'd been more than happy to simply listen in every afternoon to midnight, well after her quips and lines had faded for the day. Even just hearing the pre-recordings, was enough to send his heart aflutter. She didn't go by her full name, like the earlier DJs, so it had taken a bit of time, before he'd been brave, and able, to compile the info to track her down.

His heart had been racing. His palms were sweaty, knees weak and wobbly, arms heavy and stiff, the first time he'd parked a little ways away outside of the station, to see his goddess of the frequencies in person. As soon as ten minutes past midnight had rolled around, and the lights up top had flickered out, he'd been leaning forwards in his seat, nearly drooling over the figure making their way through the double doors below.

Taller. She was a bit taller than he'd expected. That was fine, though. She was still petite, in comparison to him. He could easily slip an arm around her waist, and hold her close. Not too weighed down with belongings; no designer threads or overly-done up appearance. Just clean and free. A few layers, like a long coat and turtleneck, with skinny jeans and boots, plus a pair of fingerless gloves. She could have been anywhere from her twenties to thirties, but there was no way to tell exactly. The perfect age range.

Her long hair looked so soft, falling past her shoulders, whipping up about her with a slight gust. He wondered what it would feel like, to run his fingers through the auburn strands. To pull on them slightly, draw her in nearer to him with a timed yank, for a passionate kiss.

She'd practically passed right beside him. He could have reached out and touched her, had his door or window been open. She had been blissfully unaware of his presence. So relaxed and sublime – it was amazing. Sleepy aqua eyes that still seemed to shine, with the same light that filtered through his speakers every week. Her face was heart-shaped, with high cheekbones. If he were to guess, he'd swear too, that she was a mix of races, though he couldn't quite guess which ones, based off of her features. Perhaps something Asian? So exotic! So out of the norm.

The silver stud under her lip had glittered faintly. A bit startling – he wouldn't have guessed it, from the way she'd talked, but it was a mere cosmetic blemish, as were the lines upon her cheek. Jewelry could easily be removed.

As for the scars on her cheek, well...as much as he preferred his women natural, he supposed, if he were to phrase it nicely enough, surely he could convince her to tidy up there, just a tad? That's all he'd ask, nothing else! Her lips were fine, their hue softly inviting; she didn't need any other sort of makeup to her form. It was meant to protect her, more than anything else, in a way that he wouldn't be able to. The world could be so very cruel sometimes. He knew this firsthand. After all, they couldn't be together every waking moment.

Right? Right...

The more time passed – days, weeks, months – the harder it was, to keep steady. How often had he tried, and failed, to make it through the phone lines, wanting, needing to let his girl know, just how much he cared! How many nights had he gone searching the web, attempting to piece together an identity. She took the late bus whenever he showed up, it seemed, so that made it harder to tail her after a long day. On top of that, he had his own obligations, and couldn't always come to greet her following his shifts at work.

It had been at least a year, before he'd finally gotten lucky – she'd slipped up, and made mention of something near to where she lived; it might have been a particular store she'd liked to shop at, that was having some sort of special event in the community. From there, he'd been able to narrow his search down a little further. A little closer, a little nearer...he'd roamed around the area constantly, in hopes of catching a glimpse of his heavenly mistress.

And then, finally...it had happened. He'd seen her.

He'd recognized her immediately, stepping out from the thrift store, a small bag in hand. Her hair was clipped back this time, but there was no way to hide the aura she bore. She was so pure, in contrast to the degenerates and zombies walking about their cold realm. This time, she'd been wearing a thick sweater, armsocks, a knee-length skirt, tights, and the same pair of boots.

He'd wondered, for just a moment...the weather wasn't chilly, so why all the layers? She would have looked so pretty in a sundress, or a peasant blouse. Maybe a tank top, or high-waisted shorts?

Oh well. It didn't matter. As soon as he'd spied her, he'd locked on, like a heat-seeking missile. His focus hadn't wavered; he'd trailed after her in his car, not caring one iota for the honking building up behind him, as how many irritated drivers had decided to simply cut around, a few quite rude as they passed by. It still didn't phase him.

He'd continued on, all the way up the winding hill. Did she make this walk every time? How strong she must've been, depending on what she had to carry back! If she were on foot now, and took the bus to get home, it was safe to assume that she didn't drive, period. He'd had to be careful in his speed and actions, however, doing his best not to appear obvious in his intentions.

Eventually, the apartment complex rolled into view. Taking down the name plastered across the front, he prepared to do a deep dive online, for the next few nights, to finally obtain the rest of the necessary pieces. Until his queen was right where he wanted her. Soon enough, he had an address, and full name.

Beyond her moniker, she was a college graduate. Occupation, DJ at Oldies 105.9. Had been working there for nearly half a decade. Unmarried. A few other details, like phone number, age, what her middle name stood for – oh, how beautiful! - the rest of the basics. Just as he'd thought, she was flawless. A perfect compliment to him.

A few other points had stood out in his mind, to seal the deal that she was truly a being too good for this existence. Her history, in particular. Just like him; she'd understand his pain. She had made it to where she was today. And before long, they'd be facing this cruel reality together, hand in hand.

He wished it. He wanted it. He needed it. Therefore, it would be so. They were made for each other!

As much as he'd wanted to, he'd never had the guts to contact her directly. Perhaps he should have, but he didn't want to scare her away. He'd rather have gotten to talk to her directly, or at least as directly as he could manage. I.e, the constant calls into the station. Good fortune hadn't come through just yet, but that was fine. It was by a miracle that he'd discovered her existence in the first place, and his faith refused to waver. He'd get to talk with his beloved one day, and establish the first proper connection. Until then...all he could do was watch, and wait.

Like today, under the overcast sky.

He hadn't been able to follow her into the store. As much as he would have loved to encourage a meeting then and there, it was simply too risky. Far too many people. First, he'd kiss her, figuratively, through the phone. And then...then, he'd take the next step to making it official. For the time being though, he would be her guardian, the other half just itching to make her whole.

She was so cute, clad in that dark sweater and ripped jeans with the fishnets peeking through. As always, the fingerless gloves were present. Why, he didn't know. He was certain her hands were just as stunning as most the rest of her. So soft and delicate in his hold. An unconventional, unique style. Even with the hood up, he could still pick her out perfectly, wheeling that small fuchsia bag in front of her...oh, this was new.

Well, whatever. Perhaps she was just buying a lot this time? The trip had come and gone, just like the rest. He'd followed her back, as any other day, stopping a short ways away from the parking lot, to watch her slip inside.

Sometimes, he'd step outside of the car, to stare at the building for a little while, before taking his leave. He knew what floor she lived on, based on the address he'd found. Unit 802. He could just imagine her: crossing the lobby, stepping into the elevator, pressing the buttons. The door closing slowly, blocking her from everyone's attentions, as she made her way home.

The place didn't seem very well-managed. There were no cameras by the doors, and the security personnel at the front seemed bored. Although there was a code punch required to get in, it was easily diverted if someone could get the door to catch and stay open, just long enough to slip inside. On top of that, the guard had specific times where he'd leave his post, be it to patrol the premises, or to simply sit in his own car and grab a smoke, maybe a bite to eat.

Another day, another mission completed. The weather wasn't looking the greatest. Although Friday had been clear, things had quickly begun taking a turn for the worse by the time Saturday afternoon had rolled around. If that was the case, he might not be able to come and visit like he usually did. Hell, if the weather really got out of hand, he might not even get to hear her on the airwaves at all! The station could easily get shut down for a time!

Oh, how those periods had infuriated him! He hadn't been able to do anything other than lash out in his domicile. It had borne the brunt of his frustrations, and even after he'd calmed down and patched things up, it still looked worse for the wear.

But that was fine. It didn't matter. Once they were as one, they could live together. She would extend a kindly hand to him, and welcome him in, so they could be as close as possible for as often as possible. He could see it play out, every single time: the sweetest daydream, a fantasy soon to become reality. He could feel it in his bones! It had been far too long that he'd pined for her from afar. The time was coming, to finally make a move.

His precious, a beacon of purity, calling out to him. In due time, they would be looking back on these dark days, and laughing. For now though...he would have to continue playing the waiting game. But, good things came to those who waited, right? He was a nice guy. Soon enough, she would be his, just the way it was meant to be. Eventually, their engagement would be broadcast to the world – they'd have a lovely little ceremony, settle down, and start a family...

Hmm, perhaps by then, she'd decide that the radio business was no longer an option for her. After all...how many other folks would be hearing her voice on a regular basis...and possibly having the same thoughts and feelings towards her as he did? At thinking about this, his chest would tighten.

No. Nobody else was allowed to see her in such a way. Only him. Only him! It was settled, then: once she was his, he'd find a way to convince her to simply...let go, of this career path. He could support them on his salary, it wouldn't be a problem. All he needed was her. Everything else would fall into place shortly thereafter. He knew it.

For today however, he simply drove off. Easter was around the corner, and it was time to count his blessings. He wasn't religious, but...it had to have been by some sort of divine intervention, that their paths had crossed. Things were coming up roses for him...

...and eventually, he wouldn't require the roses at all. She'd be eating from the palm of his hand.

…...

Now that they were back in her room, late afternoon sun streaming through the windows in a muffled hue, thanks to the curtains, the creature allowed his gaze to drift around without much effort, as Beth placed him upon the assembled nest in the corner. Sitting at the edge of her own bed, she proceeded to stretch, letting out a soft yawn, before looking about her surroundings for what was meant to be one last time, before descending into slumber.

Once more, her eyes landed on the radio.

Mary's show was over for the day. But now, there was Dave Fox's block – another colorful character, that she enjoyed tuning in for. His quirky attitude was contagious; he was an older fellow, but one who didn't allow his age to define him, even if he'd been around when a good few of the tunes he played had been brand new on the airwaves. It was interesting, hearing the little tidbits of history he'd share here and there.

Besides...it felt like it'd been forever since she'd let herself enjoy a full listening session uninterrupted. So, this would be it, before she officially turned in for a bit. Clicking the dials once more, Beth had the station set back to the correct channel in a couple of seconds. Beneath her, upon the floor, the little deer had drawn nearer, ears perking at the sound of more familiarly-styled instrumentals reaching his ears. They weren't yet from his time, but they were less heavily edited. He could appreciate that.

Curling up at her feet, he let his stare lower slightly, as the various melodies floated through his head. One song, about the ocean, and a girl named Brandy; another, about being stuck in the middle between clowns and jokers. Still another, about a 'hunk'a burning love', followed by an ode to a 'brown-eyed girl'. Next, there was a kooky track about a spider, and then finally, one being the loneliest number.

Heh...he couldn't really agree with that sentiment. After all, he'd spent how much of his time alone, with only his wits and two hands to guide him, and he'd turned out just fine.

Then...the kicker.

“Oh? I haven't heard this one in a hot minute.” A soulful, slow tune was beginning to filter clearly through the speakers; for such a small device, the sounds it produced were quite strong. The song was bluesy, and deep. Looking upwards towards his human companion, he noted that her eyes had closed. Then, before he could ponder the expression any further, she...

...began to sing, once more. Immediately, his attention perked up.

“There is, a house, in New Orleans.

They call the Rising Sun,

And its been, the ruin, of many a poor boy,

And God, I know, I'm one...”

His jaw dropped, inwardly – an open-mouthed grin. Outside, he was able to keep it together, with merely a raise of the eyebrows. An instrumental break, then she continued.

My Mother was a tailor,

She sewed my new blue jeans.

My Father was a gambling man,

Down, in New Orleans...”

Ah, New Orleans...a place he knew quite well, his time away notwithstanding. You could have even called it his old stomping grounds. It was where he'd originated from how long ago, and where he'd learned every last trick of the trade in his life. From the everyday routine, to his daily working existence, and even to the spiritual. All of it, was tied in to those streets. He hadn't walked them in ages, but the memories still remained. Even as his humanity had been naught but a fleeting thought upon arid winds.

“Now the only thing a gambler needs,

Is a suitcase, and a truck.

And the only time, he was satisfied,

Is when he's on a drunk.”

Her voice was entirely different, from when she'd been harmonizing earlier in the day. This time, her tone was lower, heavier. There was a different sort of melancholy here; as if she were truly placing herself in the shoes of the vocalist, and empathizing with his situation. Something that was so foreign to him and his being, and yet, in this moment...he couldn't look away, wanting to see just how far the act could go.

A deep, powerful organ solo then, followed by more lyrics.

“Oh Mother, tell your children,

Not to do what I have done.

Spend your lives, in sin and misery,

In the house of the Rising Sun.”

The story to this song was quite clear-cut. Still, it wasn't the tale of woe and lament that had the creature so caught up, but the vocals of this human pet. Pet...that was a good descriptor for her, wasn't it? Something he could take care of, in his own way; raise, to eventually operate under his particular specifics. If he so wished to take on such a task.

“Well, I got one foot on the platform,

Another foot on the train.

I'm goin' back, to New Orleans,

To wear that ball and chain.”

This part, he couldn't quite identify with. Never in his time, had he ever felt restrained or confined. At no point had he ever experienced a loss of freedom or free will. He'd always been able to decide for himself; to dictate where his life would go. Until the very end, he'd never given in. Why, even as a child, he'd...

He'd...

“Well, there is, a house, in New Orleans,

They call the Rising Sun.

And its been, the ruin, of many a poor boy.

And God, I know, I'm one.”

Ending where it had started, on those powerful, arresting beginning lyrics. The ones that set the tone for the story to follow. A tale of no redemption, no escape. Just painful repetition, of a never-ending cycle. A circle of regret, staring into the mirror, being haunted by the faces of the past. Chained down by the weight of a tortured, all too familiar existence.

The tune faded out, finally allowing for the DJs interjection, and then a commercial break. At this, the woman let out a yawn. It had been at least...ten, fifteen minutes, maybe even twenty, of music. That was a good block. Usually, there were only two or three songs played in a row at this time, before the next pause. Dave must have either been feeling generous, or needed space for something, that advertisem*nts just wouldn't work for.

This time around, the nerves hadn't been nearly as present. Perhaps that first song prior had helped to break the ice? She hadn't even bothered to look down, to see if her companion had been paying attention again. She'd simply allowed herself to get lost in the moment, and the lyrics.

Although she had no stake whatsoever towards the story being presented, her soul couldn't help but be wrapped up in the events and emotions being expressed. The Animals were truly talented. And this wasn't the only recording of the song! But, they'd utterly managed to take it and make it their own – this was the version that most everyone knew, off the top of their head, had they actually heard it. She couldn't guarantee that the new generation knew anything about this tune. But, oh well. Their loss.

Glancing downwards fleetingly however, not intending to linger, Beth felt her heart nearly stop. Once again...

...that little creature was regarding her, as if he'd never quite seen anything like her. She swallowed hard; just what was it that made him fixate on her so? In such a manner, unlike anyone or anything she'd ever encountered before? If she'd ever actually met any of the fans from her weekly show...would they have ever stared at her in this way? Would they have been so swayed, by her performance, beyond what she put out on the airwaves, five days in a row?

Just...what is this guy's deal? “Hey, uhh...little one, you're...awfully intense there.” A nervous chuckle, as he blinked in response. This seemed to effectively break the connection, as he quickly looked away, bearing an expression as if he hadn't been caught staring. Again – far too human, for a wild animal! She still had no answers as to his odd mannerisms. But, what she did know...

...was that it was time to shut the radio off, and finally hit the hay, if only for a couple of hours. So, with another stretch, she turned the dials once more, before unhooking the device from its charger – the battery was full now, so it was fine – and replacing it upon the shelf. With a groan, she practically flopped back down onto the bed, eyes falling closed with a sigh.

“G'night...or whatever. I'll see you in a bit...” She didn't even bother to check, to make sure if he had made it to his bed before doing so, but it was fine. He'd already done it on his own, pacing a few times before finally settling in. He wasn't about ready to nod off just yet though...if at all.

Such a fascinating person, not just a mortal! Surely, he'd known others who could sing in his lifetime, both above and below. However, their ranges were limited; they could only stick to one genre or style. Yet, she'd gone from a melancholy, warped Gothic romance, to a classical blues rock. From modern, to the past. And that was only two tunes! What else was she capable of?

Wouldn't it be something, if he were to discover, that this was actually her career path? Perhaps they had a bit more in common, in spite of being different species. Oh, how fun it would be, unravelling her identity and sanity, piece by piece, so long as they were together!

Still, though...how long would it take, before he reached that point? And he certainly couldn't do it in the state he currently found himself in. But, who knew how much time would have to pass for him to fully recover?

Too many questions, far too many for his liking. He preferred solidity, and answers. So he would get them, in the best way he knew how: by his own actions. Combined with his abilities, he could always find other ways to amuse himself...

...like testing his gradually returning strength, upon this ditzy guinea pig of a person.

Beth did not catch the flash of his eyes and teeth, seeing as she was out like a light. At long last, the strange deer allowed himself to relax...until the moment was right. The sun was still out somewhat; he had a good while to wait. But at least he wasn't impatient. Just eager.

This time suddenly, a low, crackling chuckling. Like a male's voice, through a filter. Another step forwards, in the quest for progress. Oh, she wouldn't know what hit her!

Chapter 6: Dream A Little Dream

Chapter Text

Sunday rolled around quite explosively, not with a cheery chirp. As expected, those looming storm clouds had finally burst, nearly drowning the city in water, as well as sharp overhead displays of lightning, topped by booming thunder. The sounds were enough to shake the building foundations to their cores. There was no way anybody was hunting for eggs today.

Outside of the main hubbub, in her apartment on the hill, Beth was not much safer from the torrential downpour. It crashed about outside her windows, as she sat hunched over in front of her laptop on her desk, hoping that her wifi didn't go kaput. A cup of coffee was at her right, being intermittently sipped while she scrolled article after article, watching video after video, and taking as many notes as possible in her writing program. A fresh document was opened for Monday's show.

She knew she should have taken care of this back the day before. After coming home from her shopping trip however, and preparing a small bit of munchies for herself, she'd made the choice instead, to crash in her room, making sure the 'dear' deer was taken care of as well, nesting on those few cushions, towels, and blankets arranged in the corner. She'd made certain his eyes were shut, before closing her own.

…...

From there, she'd fallen...into quite the fitful sleep. A strange dream had come to her then, one that had felt so real, that upon awakening, she'd actually looked around for a few seconds, as if expecting to see someone else standing beside her where she lay. Had reached out to check herself for any traces of physical contact.

The vision had played out as such: she'd been lying upon her bed, prone and vulnerable, when suddenly...

...she'd started hearing, out of nowhere, a melody. And a familiar one, at that. It was the song that had come onto the radio, earlier in the day. A few lyrics had filtered in, though the vocals were heavy, dragged down, distorted.

“If I only had a heart to give...To my shadows, beckons your light...Purity waltzes with temptation...” Although the tune had brought her comfort once before, in this moment, it was almost a haunting sort of threat. As if something – or someone – were watching her, waiting, for the perfect opportunity to pounce.

And, that's exactly what came next. As she sat up, about to shake her head and rub at her eyes, to adjust to the deep darkness, a sudden feeling upon her legs caught her off-guard. Letting out a yelp, Beth was shoved back down, unknown objects making motions up her body, to wrap around her wrists and middle. She felt the panic rising throughout, pumping in her heart, as she wanted to scream – before her voice was halted, by something roughly shoving its way into her mouth. It was then that she realized...she was being held down by some sort of tendrils, or vines.

No - ! Get the f*ck off of me! Let me go! These were the thoughts screeching inside her head, a rapid SOS, coated in coarse language. She couldn't even begin to care at that moment, as her eyes darted upwards, gaze locking on a large, shaded human-like form, beginning to rise above her.

Glowing, wide red eyes and a twisted, matching grin, surveyed her restricted, captive form, leaning in closer until it was about an inch away from her face. Her pulse was echoing throughout her very being, practically suffocating in its pressure...or was that another vine, slipping up to coil around her throat?

“Haaah...” The strange, unearthly figure let out a slow hiss, grin stretching wider. It seemed to be...relishing in her current predicament. Atop its head, were two pairs of appendages. One resembling ears, the other large, jagged horns, or even...antlers? The former twitched, as if picking up on the muffled sounds of her inner terror. A clawed hand reached out, to grip at her face tightly, harshly. She could feel the points of its nails digging into her cheeks, its palm pressing into her chin. At that moment, Beth realized...

There was no way to escape. She was completely at the mercy of this monster, whatever it was. She felt her body go limp; this wasn't like the situations she'd experienced in the past. This thing...wasn't human. She couldn't call the cops, or yell into its face for release. She could barely breathe, and was certain that her fear was reflected across her features, in an achingly obvious manner.

No...no, she couldn't give up! She'd come too far, been through too much, to roll over here and now! She still had a life to live! Right? She'd tossed aside all those negative thoughts clear into the wayside, where they belonged! No matter by whose hand, she wasn't ready to die! Not here, not now! So much was at stake! Even if she were just a drop in the bucket, there were others who were counting on her!

Like...that freaky little deer...

At that moment, the vine which had nearly buried itself down her throat slipped out, allowing a strangled gasp to escape her at last. However, all of the prior pleading curses upon her tongue had fallen flat, instead being replaced by two sentences:

“D-Don't...touch him! I don't care...what you do to me...but leave him alone!”

Hearing this, the being seemed to freeze, as if it hadn't been expecting her to say such a thing in its presence. Well, it wasn't the only one! Why had she cared so much about that creature's protection anyway, over hers?? Did she simply give no thought to her own safety? Was she still caught up in the bonds of her past internal loathing, grabbing at the first option that came her way? Was she simply that attached to him, even after only a short period?

Its head tilted, now regarding her with a new fascination. The vines around her body and limbs seemed to be loosening, as it drew back slowly. What...did this mean? Was it just lulling her into a false sense of security, before it struck the final blow?

Then, more familiarity, as the creature began...to sing.

“I'll never allow the mask to slip,

Though through my lies you may peruse.

With these hands stained in sin,

My darling, please...you must choose.”

Its voice crackled, distorted as though...it were coming through a shoddy frequency on a radio. Beth could feel her eyes widening, as it parroted back the lyrics to her. The hand clutching her face had released its grip, to instead tuck a finger beneath her chin. A single word left its great grinning maw.

“Sing...”

Was she understanding this correctly? It really had her pinned and scared sh*tless, just for the sake...of wanting to hear her sing?? Was that all this was set up for? No way!

Now, the digit was starting to press more noticeably into the underside of her jaw. The monster's eyes narrowed, ears flicking slightly, antlers seeming to grow in size. A low growl left its lips, as it drew in a bit closer. Again, the command. “Sing.” This time, it was far more forceful. There was a hint of warning, as if there would be consequences should she not follow through with the order.

What else could she possibly do here? This living, breathing nightmare had her captive, and if she were truly serious about keeping her friend safe, much less not dying herself, then it was on her to do whatever it required to ensure the best outcome. So, taking in a trembling breath, Beth picked up where the being had left off.

“Y-You decide to stay? So be it.

The sun is s-swallowed by the moon.

One vile, star-crossed eclipse,

A fond embrace, ended too soon.”

Although she'd stuttered slightly, the words were still clear and seemingly on-key. At least, based off of the reaction she was seeing, that was the case. The monster's eyes were full and engaged now, as a low purr came forth. Again, the tendrils began to loosen, though once more, it drew in nearer. There was a new light in its gaze, one that, oddly enough...

...reminded her of something, a moment she couldn't quite place, but that had shaken her to her core upon its happening. Why, why, why...was this stare so reminiscent?

Finally, one last word. “Smile...” That was when she'd woken up.

…...

All of the lights had gone on after that, and it had taken a while for Beth to calm down. Even following a hot shower and a couple small shots of cinnamon whiskey, plus her Cosmopolitan, she'd still been unable to get the horrifying vision out of her mind's eye. The little deer must've thought she were some sort of loony, if it were capable of such understandings, pacing about the rooms from twelve a.m. onward, until the sun had started to rise.

As she sat in front of her computer, Beth found her hand reaching up, almost instinctively, to brush against her throat. She couldn't recall if there had been any lingering pain following her awakening, but the sensations were still clear as day. Even now, she couldn't forget.

She'd had vivid dreams before, both of trauma, and from medication withdrawals. But this...was an entirely different experience altogether. She had never encountered this strong a feeling of helplessness and anguish, and she already knew what it was like to be in fear for your safety. That wasn't anything new. What was, was the intensity of which the panic had taken her over...

...as well as the drive to survive.

That's right...the being had backed off, somewhat, when she'd finally been able to address it. But, what had she said, again? What were the words that had come forth, in the heat of the moment? Furrowing her brow, Beth took a few seconds from her researching, to recall the utterance.

“D-Don't...touch him! I don't care...what you do to me...but leave him alone!”

At this, her gaze immediately darted to the left, towards the makeshift bed she'd set up, again, for her little buddy. He wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, merely snoozing away among the towels and pillows. He'd seemed to have perked up a fair bit, which was surprising. For whatever reason, he chose to follow her around, aside from when she'd been having her freak-out following that vision. Then, he'd merely been a silent observer.

A bite of the lip, a tug of the stud. Why...why had that, of all things, been enough to make the creature halt slightly in its pursuit, if only to start the next part of that garish dream? Was it simply surprised, that she hadn't begged for her own safety instead? Had it, for some reason, possibly respected her desire to preserve the life of another over her own? It was as she ruminated on this odd detail, that it finally hit her:

The look in its eyes, as she'd followed its command...it was almost exactly like the one her new companion had given her, when she'd been singing along to the radio. At this, her eyes widened.

No...it couldn't be. That wasn't...it wasn't because of him, that she'd had such a nightmare, right? He was just an innocent animal – nothing more, nothing less. She'd already been over this once before; in spite of his unique appearance and kooky mannerisms, he was just an animal. Perhaps it was his prior circ*mstances, wherever he'd come from, that caused him to act this way. She'd never know, but it was a possibility. More so than him being some sort of...unholy horror, anyway.

Maybe... The words and images upon her laptop screen were starting to blur, as her thoughts continued on. Perhaps it was nerves, over the current situation she found herself in, that had brought on the twisted imagery? It was a long shot, but it was the closest thing she had to any sort of answer here. If she were to be entirely honest...the creature had even borne a vague similarity to her new friend – if you only counted the antlers, ears, and red.

Yeah...yeah, that could be it. It made sense. After all, this was probably the biggest upheaval she'd encountered in her life, for...a very long time. It had shaken things up noticeably. And she still had no idea how it was all going to end, either. For all she knew, it could go either way, positively or negatively. The deer could wind up healed and safe, and she free to go on her merry way, or...they could both end up having a bad time.

“Sheesh, Beth. Let it go already. You've got work to finish.” It wouldn't do her any good to continue ruminating over these kinds of morbid things. Shaking her head slowly, she reached across, to grab her coffee mug, and take a few long gulps. It wasn't until she registered the feeling of sucking at air, that she realized she'd finished the brew a long time ago. Standing up with the cup still in hand, she made her way back towards the kitchen. She needed a bit more of a kick, before she continued on with her task. To distract herself from that perplexing mental scary movie.

As Beth left, she didn't catch sight of the pair of red eyes following her out the door. A flicker of emotion across their gaze – a smug acknowledgement.

Yes, yes...she was so distracted, wasn't she? Granted, it had only been a few hours ago, but still. The images that had played out across her slumbering mind had certainly been quite the doozy of a concoction, hadn't they?

Once again, that flash of a gleaming, golden grin. Or...had they been mere images?

Gradually, bit by bit, his strength was returning. All it took, was mending the wound, and a touch of sustenance. Though, it would have been sped up exponentially, if this daft woman could have uncovered the truth about his diet. He might have been a deer in form, but he certainly was not one in genetic makeup. If only she could figure it out fully...

Oh well. It wasn't like he didn't benefit, by being here. He was gaining some very valuable insight, into how this new, updated world of mortals worked. It had surely been a hot minute since the last time he'd lived on Earth, let alone traversed its surfaces – his contract had been against those who'd wound up in the fiery pits, after reneging on their devilish deals. There, they'd swapped one form of servitude for another.

My, the human existence had advanced quite far, be it by trends, technology, or even customs. He'd only gotten the briefest taste of it with the modern-age souls that had passed into the Infernal's realm. Now, he was free to explore and travel as he saw fit...once he was back to full power, that was. And away from this gullible puppet.

A minor twitch then. Yes, although...

During that vision he'd conjured up, he'd seen the fear reflected across her face, in her eyes. And yet, when he'd given her the chance to speak, recognizing the signs of one who was letting go of foolish combative strategies...she'd surprised him.

“D-Don't...touch him! I don't care...what you do to me...but leave him alone!”

She hadn't pleaded with him for her sake. Neither had she condemned him with a sailor's tongue and bravado. No, instead...her concern had been entirely for his wellbeing, once again. He, the one who'd been causing her such distress in the first place. She hadn't known this fact, but it didn't matter.

Truth be told, he...wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.

He could have mocked her for her compassion. At the same time, however...the conviction in her words, no matter if her voice had shook as she'd spoken, was not something to be ignored. Truly, did she bear such a loyalty for him, even not knowing a single thing about who he was, or where he hailed from? Even after such a limited time of contact between them?

Again, it wasn't as though he didn't appreciate all she was doing for him. He wasn't sentimental, but he could accept her efforts and determination. Though it could have gone a touch more smoothly, it was what it was. And, considering some of the folks who'd wound up down below...in this most compromised state he'd found himself in, he was darn fortunate that she, of all people, had been the one to stumble upon him instead.

She'd given him shelter. She'd tended to his wounds. She'd attempted to feed him, albeit not understanding his 'special' diet. She'd even gone through the trouble of taking him out and about, if only once, not wanting to leave him alone, to potentially wind up with further damages. A legitimate concern, on her end, at least.

He could have mocked it all, but he wouldn't. Her innocence, sure. But not the energy she'd put forth, in keeping him alive and satisfied.

Most folks, who encountered him, only cared for what he could do for them. Either that, or they were scared beyond belief. His reputation had a habit of preceding him. And, of course, there were the ones who simply wanted him gone. Such pests they were, really.

But she...she didn't fear him. True, his form wasn't exactly formidable, at this point, but there were still worries that came along with letting a wild animal into one's existence. Even in his time, it wasn't commonplace to raise something like a deer. And he'd been all too aware, upon their first encounter, what had been racing through her mind; he'd practically been able to taste her trepidation in the air, upon seeing him. She'd been expecting some sort of monster to have come tumbling out of that brush. However, he still couldn't say that he'd been the most friendly and willing of faces...

And, once more, he was harkened back, to those words that had left her lips in the heat of the moment two nights prior, as well: “I don't want you to die!”

The point was, as he'd deliberated upon before, perhaps there was a use in keeping this particular mortal around. If he could convince her to fall under his sway, then he could exploit that trusting nature of hers further. Put her to good use, on his behalf. He didn't have to extinguish her. Sure, he was bloodthirsty, but he also had rationale. He wasn't a mindless killer. Ruthless, but he had purpose.

It would take some time, before he was fully recovered. He'd figure out how to handle this dilemma before then. For now...he'd bask in the 'good life' he'd stumbled upon here, with this charmingly unknowing soul. The one with a heart so pure, a spark that seemed to both waver and shine...

...and an absolutely divine set of golden pipes. Such luck he held, that he'd been able to hear them bring that morbid love song to life! Even more so than the second melody she'd performed. It had enraptured him so – enough that he hadn't been able to let it go, had to work it into the spell he'd cast upon her in her sleep.

Hmm...the woman – Beth – hadn't yet returned from fetching more of her drink. Well, it was coffee. He was familiar with that much, at least. She was probably making more. Lazily glancing around the modernly equipped room, his vermilion stare landed upon the glowing screen she'd been planted in front of for how long now.

A tilt of the head then. That's right...what had she called it, a 'laptop', and then a 'computer'? She wasn't holding it on her lap, even if it did fit, so that name made no sense to him. However, the second could have, if just a little; it was obviously used for computing work of some kind. Possibly an advanced system of calculation? Astounding indeed!

Looking down at the bandages wrapped about him, he closed his eyes, and inhaled slowly. Perhaps, perhaps...he was strong enough to pull off this little trick? He'd had enough energy to grant his host that 'dream' the night before, though he hadn't been able to regain his full form to do so. Only cast a shadow. It would take more time, before he could fully change back.

Letting out the breath he'd been holding, a red glow began to form around his body. With careful motions, he began to rise from the nest, hovering in the air, making his way towards the chair where Beth had been sitting a few minutes prior.

As he drew nearer, however, his form began to shake.

No – so close! I'm almost there...! Unfortunately, the red fitted bubble surrounding him disappeared, just a few places shy of the cushion. He had to swing his front legs out, to grab hold, causing him to dangle above the ground. Why did this seat have to be so high...?! He could feel the strain on his side, as he fought to push himself up. Just a little bit further - !

“Hey! What the heck are you doing?!” The door had opened; Beth was returning with a freshly brewed cup of coffee in her hands, only to see the deer attempting – and failing – to climb up upon her seat. Nearly smashing the mug on the floor by her feet as she placed it down, she rushed over, to scoop him up once more. “No, no no! You're not ready for this kinda stuff yet!”

A huff left her lips, as she walked back over towards his bed on the floor. “Not like you'll listen to me anyway, but...I really don't want you to get hurt again.” Placing him down, she bent her knees, until she was eye-level with him.

“If you get too banged up...I might not be able to help you this time. And then we'll both be in trouble. Okay?” Her sea green gaze lingered on his own; as awkward as it was to keep up eye contact, Beth was resolute in getting her message across, somehow. “No more of these crazy stunts. Not until your wound heals a bit more. Which, based off of what I've seen...may not be for a while longer.” It was a pretty deep gash, and all she could do was treat it with what she had on hand, which wasn't much to begin with.

Looking towards the windows, she swallowed quietly. “Here's hoping the weather clears up soon...I don't fancy heading out in this storm.”

Truth be told, Beth...actually liked the rain. When she had nothing better to do, no work or anywhere to go, it was positively pleasurable, to curl up and listen to. In circ*mstances like the ones she currently found herself in, though...she couldn't really enjoy the gloomy weather. So, it needed to go away. For both their sakes.

Storms like this put her job in jeopardy, as well – because they were such a local, almost grassroots sort of business, it was all too easy for them to get knocked offline, and not be able to fix things for a few days. It had happened before, and it was a looming risk yet again.

If that's the case, I might be doing all this work for nothing...but, better to be prepared, even if it turns out that I won't be able to come in. Shaking her head, Beth stood up, to return to her seat -

Or, she would have, if a plaintive bleat hadn't reached her ears just then. Slowly, she turned around, to regard the creature staring back at her. His eyes were wide and imploring, as if asking where she was going; why was she leaving him?

Yes, it was a bit of a degrading move, on his part. At the same time, the manipulative aspect still fit his usual MO. He wanted to see what she was up to on that damned 'com-pu-ter'. What was so important that it had her entire focus and attention, away from him and his presence? If he couldn't reach it on his own, if he really had to...

...then fine. He'd get her to accommodate him. Somehow, some way. As their gazes remained locked on one another, he could tell: her resolve was wavering.

What...? Does he actually...want to watch what I'm doing? It was a bizarre thought to consider, this was true. At the same time though, that stare...it was impossible to ignore. He wasn't that big, and so long as he wasn't disruptive...it could work? All she was doing was taking notes right now, and bookmarking sites for reference. He could keep closer company with her, if only for that much.

So, letting out another sigh, Beth made her way back the short distance, to carefully scoop up the small being into her arms. “Fine, fine. You win. Just for a little while, okay? Until I finish logging this all down.” He did not respond; his expression betrayed not a hint of his inner emotions. Underneath it all, he was preening, pleased beyond belief to have gotten his way.

Yes, this one...she was certainly malleable, wasn't she? She could potentially be crafted into a most valuable asset to his further plans for this world. After all...everyone needed a cover story, right? A shield?

Sitting back down, Beth proceeded to arrange the deer, until he was neatly tucked in her lap. However, before she could resume her work, he stood up suddenly, startling her with the unexpected movement. With this, he readjusted himself, so that he was now facing the screen. Flashing her a strangely superior look, he dropped his gaze to the device before him. His eyes were seeming to scan over the contents displayed, and Beth...really had no idea what to make of this.

Just like the radio. This guy was chock full of curiosity and surprises, wasn't he? Dragging her hand over her face in exasperation, Beth returned her attention to her work. If he wanted to watch, then all right. As long as she could finish what she needed to, then it was good by her. Cracking her knuckles – without a single flinch from her companion, huh – Beth resumed her task.

Hmm...interesting. Very interesting. Many colorful images and words greeted his ruby vision, strung into such sentences as “Looks like Easter is 'a wash' this year”, and “Preferences in Peeps: does it really matter, whether you're eating them, or blowing them up in a microwave?” There were other lines too, like “Fatal shooting on movie set under investigation”, and “Classic rockers tour put on hold, due to overdose”. What a diverse, if unusual, array of topics!

There were photos too, of brightly hued animal shapes, some packaged, others missing parts – oh, they were edible! They were candies! A tad too sweet looking for his liking, on top of just being utterly garish in general. Though he appreciated the shapes, he would've much preferred, well...you know. Nothing could beat the real thing. Heh.

More pictures, of faces he didn't know, labelled by various headlines and names, none of which he recognized. However, he did understand their titles: 'Actor'. 'Director'. 'Musician'. His gaze flickered in vague interest. Ah...the entertainment industry. If he could be honest, the 'picture shows' had never been up his alley, though he'd caught a few from time to time. No – the stage and airwaves, was where his interests had really thrived.

Huh... 'Drinking problem'. 'Drug abuse'. Well. It wasn't as though he was clueless as to these topics. How many poor, unfortunate souls had wound up six feet under and roaming his realm, because they'd indulged in one too many vices during their lifetimes? They were absolutely the pinnacle of cannon fodder. A pity, though – someone in the business of being in the spotlight, really should have been focusing their efforts elsewhere. He should know – that's how he'd been so successful, for as long as he was. Nobody had suspected a thing.

He watched, in quiet contemplation, as Beth's fingers darted and swept across the keyboard, though of course, he didn't realize that's what it was called. All he saw were lit up black squares and rectangles, adorned by various letters, numbers, symbols and words. With each push of the buttons, a new string of phrases would appear upon the bright white box, taking up half of her screen. Every so often, she'd reach to touch another square, wide and flat, near the bottom of the keyboard, sometimes with one finger, at others two. It made a soft clicking sound when pressed, while the ones above clacked instead.

Sometimes, Beth would pick up a pair of small...what would he call them? Buds? They looked solid, and yet, were soft near the front. At the same time, they were attached to two long black cords. She would place them in her ears, whenever she had to watch a series of moving images upon the upper part of the computer. Was that all she was doing here; transcribing this random information she was currently collecting?

Eventually, he could feel his eyelids begin to droop. It was all so very much to keep up with. So many new things to track in this world now! He hadn't bothered much with anything modern in his time away from here, and it helped that the afterlife was made up of all types to begin with. It was all too easy to shut himself out, and stick with what he knew best. It wasn't as though anyone had been able to get a jump on him anyway, no matter if he could have been considered 'out of the loop', as it were.

Only one...only one, had nearly brought him to his knees...and oh, but was that a bitter realization to swallow.

No more. He'd gotten his fill of the 'new age' for the time being. His interest had been satisfied, as he allowed his head to lower in Beth's lap. In his hearing, the raging thunderstorm outside provided the perfect backdrop to drift off with. The universe could go away for now, please and thank you. He'd return to it when he was good and ready. Until then, they could consider themselves either cursed or blessed, to be without his presence. It didn't really matter to him.

It wasn't until she'd stopped typing, noting she'd left her coffee on the floor, that Beth had realized he'd fallen fast asleep.

Chapter 7: Thunderstruck

Chapter Text

She should have seen it coming, upon waking after rushing the rest of her notes, and hastily pulling together a series of papers to bring in for the day's show. The rain hadn't yet let up – if anything, the storm was raging harder than before, blotting out any trace of sunlight, and plunging the whole area into a near second night. Still, the early morning phone call had startled her, not immediately recognizing the number on her screen. Turned out, it was one of the main managers.

As expected, the systems had gotten fried, and would take a few days before everything could be properly booted back up again. The landlines, too. Part of the problem as well, was if they did it while the weather continued to rage, it would all most likely just get shaken up again. They'd have to wait for things to settle a little first. Ultimately though, this meant that the entire line of stations under their company, were effectively MIA for the time being.

“Shoot...oh, well. I guess I'll be doing report prep for the next few days. Depends on how long this mayhem lasts.” Beth sighed. Nobody ever said Mother Nature was rational. For all we know, she's finally had enough of our garbage, and is about to wash us away to start over. Flush out the gene pool, too many people took a pee in it.

A pause in her thoughts then. Why am I even bothering to personify this, to begin with? My imagination, everyone. Of course I'm out of my mind – it's a dark and scary place. Even when not in front of a microphone, she was wired instinctively to perform. Either that, or she was crazier than she realized. She wasn't about to win an award for her comedy routine anytime soon though, that was for sure.

“Hey there...are you hungry?” Beth had now turned her attentions towards her fluffy companion. More talk of food and water. So imploring, yet worried. She wasn't smiling. Her expression was awkwardly concerned, brow slightly furrowed. Just like always.Without waiting for an answer – as if he really could, anyway – she turned, to make her way out of the room. His thoughts continued to linger on the previous subject.

Come to think of it...had he ever seen her enthused, at all, since first crossing paths? No, he couldn't recall. She'd been momentarily pleased, upon retrieving the nuts at the store. But that hadn't resulted in any full-blown joy, or even a grin. Just an expression of relief. And even when she'd been singing, it was as though...she were forcing herself to hold back any sort of cheer or delight, at bringing the notes to life. As if she were...afraid?For some reason, although her happiness was of no concern to him, the lack of positivity bothered him.

After all...you were never fully dressed without a smile.

And, hadn't those been the final words he'd offered her, at the end of her tumultuous vision: to “smile”? Perhaps he'd noticed this trait of hers far before his current acknowledgement.

When it came right down to it...this human was ridiculously jumpy, dour, and apologetic. If she wasn't fiddling with some part of herself, she was repeating those same two words: “I'm sorry.” Or, she was simply running on the adrenaline of anxiety. He hadn't hurt her, aside from the nightmare. Heck, he'd potentially saved her from a dire situation, scaring off that thug from two days prior! What on Earth or the nine circles, did she have to worry about?

Oh, well. He'd unravel it soon enough. Nobody could keep him out for very long. Secrets weren't worth much in his presence, because it was impossible to manage any sort of guise or mask against him. He was the one who could hide everything, deep beneath the surface. Six feet deep, in fact, or even further. It would take digging a hole clean through to the other side of the world.

And even then, by the time they'd actually managed that feat, he'd have already moved on, to lock it all away under the next impenetrable shield of bloody armor. Always on the prowl, always progressing forwards. Never staying still, unable to be pinned or tracked. Always keep them guessing, on their toes.

Except...when the tables were turned.

The door opened, but he didn't react. It wasn't like anything new was about to happen here. His human pet had simply returned with her meager offerings, just like before, expecting him to eat them. As per usual, she placed them in front, waiting with that quietly expectant, silently hopeful expression to her features. As if she were a child, waiting for praise from a parental figure. Ha.

It was then, that Beth's voice cut through his thoughts, a soft siren's call. Finally, he chose to let go of his prior musings, and regard her. “Uhh...I'm sorry - " And again with the guilt! " - but...you kinda need to eat something. All you keep doing is picking at the food...and sooner or later, you're gonna get sick.” A sigh left her then, as his eyes flickered up to meet hers. But, she was looking down now, off to the right. It was as he studied her face, that his eyes landed...

...upon those fine lines, etched into her left cheek. Now, a new thought was beginning to take root in his mind. For whatever reason, he felt his eyes narrow at the sight of the worn skin.

Nobody got marks like those by any normal means. Had she been in some sort of accident, possibly? That could explain her constant state of nerves, though not the remorseful nature. Unless...had she, perhaps, caused said accident? Thus, she was burdened by a constant state of shame. Though...they were rather precise, in their structure and placement.

Another idea crossed his mind then, before he could stop it: Had someone else left her with those scars? If so...why?

Not that he really cared to be involved in such affairs. It was simply a matter of, based upon what he'd seen of her character, she didn't seem the type to intentionally engage in disputes with others. There was no reason that he could see, for anyone to have struck out at her in a purposeful fight. That left the option, of her having been randomly selected, and attacked.

Neither of these options lessened the strain in his temples and vision, as he watched her rearrange the greens on the plate before him absently. If anything...they bothered him more. He couldn't explain why, though. Was it perhaps, the idea of such cowardly beings existing without consequence? To attack someone who most certainly wouldn't fight back?

Granted, it wasn't as though he hadn't entertained the idea of offing this human host himself, upon returning to full power. But, he also had standards. He hadn't obtained the infamy he bore for so long, by being sloppy. Nay; it had been only the slightest of errors, that had ended his reign the first time around. Nothing blatant or blinding.And he'd easily been able to return to proper standing upon his arrival to the other side...well, until that figurative rug had been yanked out from under him, too. Still, he'd gotten away with his routine for quite some time, but earthly detectives had nothing on the forces beyond the mortal veil.

The point was, he wouldn't have felt any real satisfaction, in simply disposing of this woman so plainly. No – after everything she'd done for him, she would deserve a proper sendoff, once he'd gotten his fill of whatever she could provide for him. When he'd taken every last scrap of use she had to offer, and twisted her existence into an amalgamation of suffering, on so many levels.

So, perhaps, in a sort of...repayment, for the services she'd given to him so far, he could possibly grant her a helping hand – just once – to prevent her sorry form from bearing any further embarrassing blemishes, telling a tale of weakness and woe.

Yes. That sounded fitting. It sounded sensible enough. It fit him, to a T. After all, he'd never actually give a damn beyond what he could gain to his personal benefit. Any further squabbles and trifles were of no concern to him. Were she to be hurt any further, beyond his lone single gesture of goodwill, it would be entirely on her head, to deal with. If she actually could.

By now, Beth was ready to just give up. For whatever reason, the little guy would not eat any of the food she prepared for him. It wasn't going to waste – anything untouched, she could save for herself to eat later on – but that wasn't the main issue here. Sooner or later, it would catch up with him, the lack of nutrition. Especially since he was still healing. Not only would he grow ill, but his wound wouldn't get any better, either. Why? Why wouldn't he touch the meals? Was the online info actually wrong, about what deer liked, or needed to consume? Or maybe...

...was he actually hurt worse than she'd first thought? A shiver wracked her slim frame then. Once more – the gruesome, painful imagery, she refused to harbor in her mind's eye.

With a jolt, she stood up, carrying the dishes away, to set on the dining table. She'd left the door open this time, so it was no problem for the smaller creature to follow her out, towards the parlor and then kitchen. He watched, still a bit strained, as she proceeded to open the top of the fridge...and pull out what looked like a small box.

“I don't really know what else to do here...guess I'll try making something for myself, then.” She'd need to brainstorm for a bit. Maybe she really should have been buying her groceries from the organic place instead? But there was no way she could make a trip out there now, in this miserable weather...right?

As she pondered to herself, in front of a silent audience of one, her fingers were already working, to deftly remove the upper layer of the carton she held. Throwing it away, she placed the box into...well, another box, only larger and white, with a glass panel to see through. Pushing a couple of buttons, the contraption whirred to life, giving the deer a momentary start at the sound. My, human technology was just full of all the whistles and bells, wasn't it? Could he ever get used to it? Did he want to?

Well...it wasn't like he could go back to his previous residence. So, it appeared that he was stuck in the middle, among the living. Those meat sacks, so ignorant and blithe to the danger that now faced them.

A tiny smile was threatening to tug upwards at his lips. Oh, not here, not now – not yet. He couldn't reveal all his tricks so soon. Perhaps...it would be fun, to traverse this realm once more, but with all the new knowledge he'd obtained while away? The hunter reborn, soon to prowl the darkest corners of the land, ready and waiting to strike fear into the hearts of his prey.

Or perhaps, if they were willing, and stupid enough...they might instead look into utilizing his services to their benefit...thus for his, in turn? He could return to the glory days; powerful, unstoppable, legendary animal! Soul after soul after soul, all claimed, in his name.

And it would soon start...with her.

Ding! He'd been so lost in his thoughts, that when the strange machine went off again, it caused him to jump, albeit slightly. Too many noisy functions! Really, where was the simplicity and order? Looking over towards Beth, his nose suddenly began to twitch, as a familiar scent was cast upon the air. He smelt something...breaded, or baked, but also...

Meat. She had prepared some sort of meat product, emphasis on 'some sort'. It wasn't quite the purest, but it would do. Instantly, he was at attention, making a beeline for the table.

Beth was sitting now, having removed her meal for one from the microwave. With fork in hand, she was already poking at the flaky crust of her chicken pot pie, eyes tiredly following the rising smoke trails, as the inner filling was revealed. Usually, she preferred the turkey ones, even though most of the time, she couldn't stand the stuff. Thanksgiving was not high on her list of holidays...good thing nobody really invited her anymore, then.

When she'd gone grocery shopping before, however, they'd only had chicken. Which wasn't bad – she'd still eat it. She just liked the turkey ones a bit more. They were less likely to have those rubbery, crunchy bits in them. Weird fatty tissue, that was hard to chew.

She stabbed her utensil through a piece of cooked bird, bringing it to her lips to blow on before eating – what did it matter, she was the only person here. And she always ate the meat first.

Suddenly, a nudge to her chair from below nearly caused her to drop the chunk entirely. Looking down in surprise, Beth was rather shocked, to find her gaze locked...with one very hungry looking deer. His eyes were wide, pupils seeming to have grown, and...what the hell, was he drooling, too? Or was she imagining things? Crud – swearing jar. And she'd been doing so well, too...

Beth swore she could even see teeth, as the creature below was now rearing up on his hind legs, looking at her so fiercely, it was starting to make her sweat. Her heart was pounding just a tad harder under her oversized long-sleeve. Just what on Earth had gotten him so lively? It was like a scarier version of begging! But what could he possibly have wanted from -

That was when she noticed...exactly what his gaze was trained on. The little piece of chicken that was still skewered at the end of her fork. Now her own eyes were wide, as she put two and two together. This deer wanted the meat. Meat. Chicken. Something that none of the guides had ever mentioned a deer eating. For crying out loud, they were herbivores! Why in the blue blazes was this one so keen on her meal??

Deer shouldn't be able to eat meat! Right? I never saw anything about them and eating meat! The further she thought about it though, and the longer she took in his stare, the more Beth realized...that it was time to return to her trusted laptop, once again. With a shake of the head, she proceeded to remove the chicken chunk, and pick up her food, moving it to the counter. Just in case the crazy guy tried to climb up the chair like before.

“C'mere, you.” With one swift motion, she'd scooped him up into her grasp, refusing to acknowledge his struggling towards the direction of her meal. Placing him a bit unceremoniously upon the couch again, she returned to her room, hauling out the necessary supplies. Upon her return, she swore that he was almost...glowering at her, from where he sat? Doing her best to ignore the unsettling expression, Beth booted up her web browser.

With a steady hand, she typed in her inquiry. “Deer, deer...what happens if a deer eats...ah, got it! Wow, third result?” Clicking the fill-in box, Beth watched, with bated breath, as the answers and links loaded onto her screen. Her eyebrows lifted slightly at what she saw.

“So...you guys can eat meat, or even will, depending on circ*mstances. It's just not good continuously, in the long run. But, if you're lacking certain vitamins, or are just desperate...then yeah. You'll go for it.” Glancing over at her silent companion, whose head was facing the countertop, Beth bit at the stud backing behind her lips.

She'd already been providing him the regular dietary fare, and he hadn't wanted a bit of it. So, he wasn't lacking in resources. That could only mean...that perhaps, he was seeking specific nutrients? Was this a side effect, possibly, from when he'd been injured – however much blood he'd lost? Or, was it something that had been bugging him from before then? Whatever the case, Beth knew what she had to do.

“Can't believe this...but alright.” Bringing the small carton over, she plopped it down onto the lower table. His red eyes were following her every action, as she reached in with the fork once more, to pick out a piece of meat. At least it should have cooled off some, by this point. Sighing, she lifted the utensil with a trembling hand, guiding it over.

It happened in a flash. Beth let out a cry, nearly jumping back. The way he'd practically dove for the food, jaws closing around it in half a second with a loud snap! Like a bear trap, or something! It was a darn good thing she hadn't chosen to use her hands instead – she might not have had any fingers left! She watched, in muted fascination, as the tiny creature consumed the piece with gusto, licking his lips with a new light in his gaze.

Yes...yes, it wasn't perfect. There were a fair few additions here. But, it would do, for now. It was better than nothing. With a pointed stare, he returned his attention to the female, as if saying “Well? I'm waiting. Chop-chop!” Beth's earlier nerves were dissipating, and she now regarded him with a hint of confused annoyance.

“Demanding, aren't you...?” She turned away. “Well, you're not getting the rest of my meal.” His face fell slightly. “But...I should have something else on hand that I can offer. If we're really going through with it.” Standing up, Beth made her way back to the fridge and cupboards, arranging this, that, and the other thing, too. In a few more minutes, she set the new array of offerings upon the floor. The creature was doing everything he could not to dance for joy.

Sliced roast beef and ham. Another bowl of water lay beside them. They were cold – the kind used to prepare sandwiches. But that was fine, it didn't matter. He was about ready to jump headfirst from the couch, had Beth not caught him in time. Instead, she eased him onto the floor, where he was off like a shot, devouring the meal without hesitation. She watched in bemusem*nt, not entirely sure how to respond.

“Carnivore Bambi. One heck of a tagline. What's next, you gonna chow down on Thumper, too?” A weak chuckle then. Like it had said in the articles, it wasn't as if deer couldn't handle meat. Just...it felt weird, she supposed, seeing this one consume it so ravenously. Granted, he hadn't eaten since who knew when, so she couldn't blame his enthusiasm. On the other hand, though...it was a tad unnerving. He looked less like a forest dweller, and more like something from a dark cartoon, what with the way he was going to town on the spread she'd placed before him.

He must've just been that lacking for certain vitamins. Most likely, this is a one-off thing. Then, he'll go back to eating what he's supposed to. Right. Returning her attention to her meal – and realizing she'd have to wash her fork, Beth turned towards the kitchen, in quiet acceptance of her mental conclusion. At least she didn't have to worry for a little while now about sustaining him. This should have been enough for the rest of the day, depending on whether or not he ate it all in one go.

As she left to do so however, once again, she didn't catch sight of the wicked gleam that followed her motions. A small head was lifted, eyes tracking her every move, as the last few scraps were chewed and swallowed, before the bowl was licked clean. My oh my...it had been awhile.

Well. She'd finally figured it out. Good! Hopefully, from here on out, she'd stop trying to shove all that vegetation down his throat. Being who he was, no matter the guise currently bound to, it just wouldn't work. Of course, he'd been able to read some of those notices on the screen as well...most likely, he'd have to keep reminding her of where his dietary inclinations lay. This one just hadn't as yet gotten the memo...but she would, soon enough. Now that his food source had been properly obtained, the healing process would be sped up exponentially. It was only a matter of time, before he was back to his former state!

And then...where to from there?

Obviously, he couldn't go back to the place he was before. Not unless he wanted all of his hard work to go to waste. He'd be sniffed out in two seconds. It was too soon. Let the heat cool down some first. Until then...it looked as though, this was his new home, a stranger in a strange land. Tethered to this...odd mishmash of a human being, who didn't seem to fit in any better than he himself had, once upon a time, or in the here and now.

However...was that really an outcome that he was willing to settle for?

If he could be honest here...it hadn't been that bad, spending time with this mortal? She was certainly entertaining, in her own ways: her reactions, every time she learned something new about him. Her mannerisms, in regards to the daily grind. Her convictions, allowing her to take on this 'mission of mercy', as it were, in terms of his care.

Even her appearance – so roughly colorful, yet gentle. The hue to her eyes; a softly melded shade of green. The heavy clothes she wore, the scars on her cheek, the strange mark she bore on her hand – a 'tattoo', right? - as well as that little metal ball under her lip. He'd seen a few others with them, once upon a time...though that wasn't the sort of company he usually associated with. How much had it hurt, to get those sorts of things done? Perhaps she liked the pain.

Ha. Ha ha ha.

And, of course, he couldn't forget: her voice. Probably the most memorable thing about her. How it captured him so. If only she hadn't been quite so reserved, she could have easily made a living for herself, with such a pair of pipes. Maybe. How did things work in today's day and age, in regards to that sort of business? Was it easier, or harder to get on board, and seal a deal?

Speaking of...

The world may have changed on multiple levels while he was away for a time, but the core basics remained intact: everybody wanted something. It was all just a matter of finding out what made somebody tick, and then dangling it just out of their reach. Get them to agree, in the heat of the moment, without bothering to read all the fine print, and then let them have it, all their painfully obvious hopes and dreams.

Money, power, sex, love, influence. When the ax finally came down, and the clock had stopped – oh, it was glorious, to see them beg, and plead, and cry, swear, sweat, wheedle and whine, fitfully attempting to get out of his grasp. But by then, it was far too late. The last grain of sand in the hourglass had slipped through their fingers, and there was no going back. It was time to face the music, and live out eternity exactly where you belonged, from the beginning: beneath him. Just another name to his list. The game would never get old!

Hmm...did that mean, that this Beth, in spite of all she was doing for him here...belonged there, too? A pause. Was it really that important a concern? Another pause. What sort of things would somebody like her even consider asking for, should she be so inclined? A part of him was curious, if for a few seconds.

Oh, well. He'd burn that bridge when he came to it. For now, just relax, erase, and rewind. Back to the beginning, of a fresh new start. Tonight, tonight – what to do tonight? Another dream – if he could guarantee himself more freedom in its creation? Perhaps now, that he was growing stronger, it would be easier to control, this time around. Or even, some other way, to test out his abilities? Playing poltergeist could be fun, on occasion. Granted, he didn't have to be constantly active. The prospect of progress was merely tempting in itself.

Suddenly, humming. His ears perked. Beth had returned to her meal, and was now picking at its contents for herself. His gaze lingered, watching as she ate. Her thoughts were elsewhere; it was obvious by the dreamily absent expression on her face. They'd settled from the earlier hectic activities. Away from this moment...away from him.

Hmph. Fat chance of that. He never was one to be ignored. With a bleat, he was able to make her jerk up, immediately looking over to where he stood. Noticing that his bowls were empty, her eyes widened.

“Wow...it's all gone. Uhh. Huh.” She was biting at her lip, as he continued to regard her cooly. What did he want now? More food and drink? Lifting her head timidly to meet his gaze, she voiced her inquiry. “Are you...still hungry?”

In response, she simply received a continued intense stare for her troubles. Great. Was that a yes or a no? She wasn't any sort of animal expert, especially towards this one. Just like before, he was far too human for his own good. The way he was watching her...seemed to suggest as if he expected her to read his mind, to know his answer.

Well. Beth was never one for those sorts of games, be they from person or animal alike. She'd spent enough of her life walking on eggshells, to even consider playing as an option anymore. No matter if it seemed crazy on the surface, her answer wasn't going to change. So, with a huff, she collected her food, and made her way back towards the kitchen.

“Fine. When you've made your decision, you know where to find me.” He stared after her, a mix of incredulous and...intrigued? She was addressing him, yet again, as if he were an actual person. How amusing! But not only that, she was, in another rare moment, showing some spine. Just like when she'd been dressing his wound, and during the dream. It wasn't all entirely bent near-backwards into the dirt.

A lick of the lips then. Hmm. Things were starting to look up even more so. A new question: What could the greatest vice be, for a human like this...and how did he go about finding it?

Truly, a mystery for the ages!

Chapter 8: Black Hole Sun

Chapter Text

“Are you kidding me??”

It was midday, Tuesday. The rain was still pouring down in buckets. At this point, the city may as well have rechristened themselves Atlantis. Okay, not quite that bad, but close. There were a few flood advisories in place. Thankfully, the weather reports said it should be clearing up in the next day or so, but until then? Woe to any and all gathered below the swirling grey skies.

At this moment, in the apartment atop the hill, Beth found herself with a new conundrum: she was out of medical supplies. Greatest current fears confirmed.

Things had started off normally. She'd awakened, as if about to head off to work, until she'd looked out the window, and was reminded of the recent situation. After a breakfast of buttered toast, apple slices, and coffee, she'd ultimately decided to forgo her exercise routine. She just didn't have the right energy to focus on the task.

She'd also wound up preparing another bowl of deli slices for her companion. When she'd tried to give him the fruits and veggies yet again, he'd refused, as usual, to touch them. So, it looked as though sandwich meats were the main course on the menu for the foreseeable future.

Then, the next misstep: having caught sight of that ruby red fawn...and realizing it had been a few days since she'd first slapped the bandages on. Which meant that, most likely, it was time for them to be changed out. Oh, boy.

Pulling the medical kit out had been easy. And, it actually hadn't been too hard to get ahold of him, and place him on the couch, either. The first batch of issues had arisen when she'd struggled to figure out exactly where the gauze and tape ended, so she could finally begin the removal process. As soon as her fingers started picking at the edges, he'd shot up about a foot, and nearly kicked her in the face. Looks like he'd grown used to his dressings...and wasn't looking forward to being prodded at, for who knew how long, just for her to attempt a peaceful extraction.

After much, much, much grabbing, holding in place, turning away, minor headbutting, and sounds she wasn't certain a deer was entirely capable of making, Beth was finally able to plead her case. “I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, okay? But they – they have to come off! They're liable to breed germs and cause an infection, if they stay on any longer! Look – you've already bled through them a little! Please stop fighting me!” Plead indeed. She was practically on her knees, eye-level with the feisty creature, hoping against hope that he didn't decide to crack her one in the nose.

In all honesty, he understood her reasoning perfectly. He wasn't stupid. No, it was more the method by which she chose to go about the task, that ground on his nerves. From when they'd first crossed paths, due to the nature of the circ*mstances, pain was to be a given. But, he'd been willing to offer her a modicum of trust, when she'd offered her services in tending to his wound. Just a scrap. He could suck it up, if it was for his benefit.

This time around though, the fight was unnecessary. She could just get it over with, and rip the damn things off entirely, in one go. A bit of fur might be lost, and yes, it would smart, but he'd rather deal with it all at once, than have her dithering and puss*footing around, as if she were doing him some great service by being so extra reserved and hesitant. It had healed some by this point, wasn't nearly as fresh – this extra bit of strain wasn't going to suddenly send him keeling over! They'd passed the danger zone by this point!

But oh, this girl – yes, in this moment, he was looking down on her – she was so desperate not to cause further distress or discomfort, that she was actively dragging it out, and making it worse. The wincing and flinching too, with every little motion she made! While he supposed he could appreciate where her misguided heart lay, in all, it was just becoming a very tedious process for him. As though he'd personally need to recover from the pointless exacerbation. Him! Perish the thought, that something so minor could seriously bother him so strongly! It was a mixture of actions and participants, that's what it was.

So overly concerned and paranoid as to his well-being. Her touch was gentle, but the time it took to get through everything...there was being considerate, and then this. Why, he hadn't had anyone fuss over him so fiercely ever since he was a -

“There! Done!” With the last of the bandages stripped away, Beth could now see the wound, up close, in all its gaping...glory? That wasn't the word she wanted here, right?

Okay, fine. He had to admit...for all the time it took, to get everything completed...there really hadn't been much disruption to the affected area. And, the minor aches and throbs, from pulling and tugging, were already letting up, becoming naught but a memory upon the pounding rain. Was he simply just...not used to anybody caring so much as to his comfort? If he wanted to be comfortable, he had all the means at his disposal to make it so. He didn't need anyone else's help in securing such desires.

However, this Beth...the depths that her compassion and panic seemed to extend, were downright mind-blowing. He had no idea whether they should be admired...or laughed right off the stage. What a performance! And what did she ask for in return?

“Ooh...okay, yeah. It's gonna need some more medication, at least.” The gash had seemed to shrink a little in size, and most of the blood traces around it were dry. But, it still appeared rather raw, and angry. It couldn't be left uncovered or open just yet. If I were a professional, I could have just stitched it shut. Unfortunately, I wasn't smart enough to be a doctor...just an experimental Frankenstein.

A sudden itch on her right arm then. Absently, Beth scratched at it through the sleeve of her sweater. Stop standing around. It was time to get to work.

That was when the bombshell dropped: she wasn't going to have enough gauze rolls to cover the pads. And, if she just left them exposed with the tape, it would be far easier for them to get caught on things, and potentially rip off. Like oh, say...if the little guy decided he wanted to try climbing again, or even just got a little too into adjusting his space. No matter if the tape was there, the extra layer was needed. It was an essential piece of security.

Beth hadn't been prepared for this possibility, when she'd first patched him up. Neither had it occurred to her, at any point while on their prior shopping excursion, to pick up more supplies. She'd made the stupid assumption, that everything would be okay. After all, it wasn't like she used her first-aid supplies to begin with, so she should have more than enough to suffice!

Ha. Ha ha ha.

“Come on, come on...!” Now, here she was, throwing clothes one after another onto her bed, upon the floor, atop of box piles. Searching, in a frenzy, for something waterproof, or at least something that would be able to hold up against the onslaught of wet weather beyond the four walls of her cozy hovel.

It wasn't for her benefit though, that she was looking for the garment. No, as stated before – she cared not one iota about getting wet. This was entirely for the sake of the dear deer. That rolling bag wasn't water-repellant. Which meant, he'd get drenched soon enough. And she couldn't afford the issues that would, or could, possibly crop up because of that happening. Once she had the proper garment in her grasp, all she had to do, was find a way to rig it up over the wheeled rucksack. Like a tarp, or tent.

Every so often, she would turn around with a sharp jerk, just to make sure that her little buddy was still resting upon the floor, where she'd left him. All he had in place were the pads, and she couldn't focus on him every moment, to make sure they weren't coming off for whatever reason, while tearing apart her closet and drawers. At this rate, she was going to end up with whiplash!

Finally, a triumphant cry caught in his hearing. “A-HA! Gotcha!” With a twitch of the ear, he looked over, to see Beth proudly touting a large blue coat in her grasp. The material had the faintest hint of a sheen to it, even in the dim lighting. Trailing after her excited form like a flag in the wind, she was now hurriedly digging through her desk drawers with her other hand, pulling out what were soon determined to be safety pins. After hauling everything to the front door, she at last collected him from the floor, leaving her bedroom resembling a veritable war zone.

“Alright...just settle in there nicely now...yeah, like that! Okay, here we go...” Once she'd gotten him situated inside, it took a bit of finagling and shifting, until she'd finally managed to adjust the coat to drape properly over most of the trusty roller bag. Held in place with the pins, she could only hope that the makeshift barrier would serve its purpose. In this condition, there was no possible way she could leave him on his own.

“Whew...well, no time like the present. Get to gettin' while the gettin's good.” It was a weak attempt at assuaging her rising nerves, but right now, it was all Beth had. Here's hoping nobody bothered questioning why she was so desperate to protect her bag, of all things, from the weather, considering that she herself was only clad in a basic grey hoodie and blue jeans. She was going to be swimming within five minutes, but it didn't matter. Just as long as he was safe.

She couldn't even say for certain that she was still doing the right thing here. Safe, huh...? Who knew if all her attempts and efforts at intensive care were actually going to make a difference in the long run. For all she knew, his condition could suddenly deteriorate. Or, she might let him go, only for him to get snatched up by some sort of -

ENOUGH already! The door closed behind her with a little more force than she'd been expecting, and Beth had to wince at the harshness of the sound. Here's hoping that none of her neighbors were around or awake at the moment. Darn that anxiety, always making her mind jump to the worst possible outcomes! Even with all the leaps and bounds she'd made in her life, it remained, in the darkest corners of her mind. That familiar, self-defeating strategy, just so she wouldn't get hurt: “Well, it's all gonna turn out badly anyway, so why bother?”

If she hadn't given it a shot, though...if she'd simply left him there, by the side of the road, to bleed out and die...

No. She wouldn't entertain those ideas any longer. Although the pep in her step was awkward, Beth forced herself to lift her head, as she made her way towards the elevators. The little bag clattered in front of her, wheels sliding fluidly over linoleum tile. Her knuckles were starting to turn white from the death grip she had on the handle, but other than that, and the racing of her heart, everything was okay. It would be okay. That's what she had to keep telling herself. Until she actually really believed it, for once.

As soon as they stepped out through the swinging glass door, and past the safety of the awning, the full force of nature's wrath fell upon Beth's lone person, as well as the rucksack. Fear was fully starting to rise now – what if her makeshift shield didn't work? She couldn't afford for him to catch a cold, on top of everything else!

Hurry! Just hurry, the best that you can – and for God's sake, don't trip! On multiple levels! This time, the drugstore was closer than the market, but she still had to make the twenty minute or so trek down the hill, just to access it. By the time they reached the bottom, she'd be drenched, and him...well. She could only hope otherwise.

They were about halfway down, when Beth took note of the first other lone body making their way through the waterlogged terrain, coming up to pass beside her on the narrow sidewalk. Oh, wait – no, they weren't alone. As they drew closer, she could make out, at their side...a larger shape, on four legs. A dog, in a raincoat no less. Possibly a Golden Retriever, or a Labrador. Looks like, no matter the weather, a walk was a walk. Taking care of business just had to be done.

If she hadn't been so utterly on-edge about her own situation, Beth might have found the sight cute, or endearing. As it was, she simply lowered her head, attempting to make herself and her presence as small as possible, preparing to guide the bag along with her over the edge of the curb.

Unbeknownst to her, the occupant inside...was aware of this.

He had felt his hair start to rise, before he'd felt the energy; sensed the disgusting creature drawing near. His back had started to arch, as if he were a repulsed cat. He couldn't make out any of the details from his vantage point, but it didn't matter. All he needed to know, was that it was of canine origin. And he wanted it gone.

Why was his human pet being so passive and accommodating? Trying to side-step, and give them the wider berth – no, they were here first. He was here first. That slobbering, murderous mongrel would just have to accept its place on the side, and out of the way. Ignoring the sensations and images prickling at the very corners of his senses and thoughts, he concentrated.

With a flash of crimson eyes, a strong burst of unseen, shadowy energy shot forth, in the form of a mini-tendril, directly at the feet of the tail-wagging annoyance. Yelping from the shock, it jumped across its owner's path, crashing into their knees, and sending them tumbling into the road. If Beth hadn't jerked away when she did, snatching the bag off the ground and pressing into the high, vine-covered wall, she'd have been taken down right along with them. Thank goodness for past high-stakes conflict honing lightning fast reflexes...? At least this time, she hadn't tripped over her own feet to showcase them.

Hmm. The execution could have gone smoother. But, it was over and done with now. The owner was cursing up a blue streak, trying and failing to rise from their crumpled place upon the wet street, while their cumbersome companion refused to vacate their lap, simply staring and whimpering as Beth passed by. She was babbling all the apologies, mostly under her breath, though a few were clear enough to be caught. If the other person registered them, there was no response.

Ugh. How troublesome. She had nothing to be concerned about, let alone anything to fret over. They were in the wrong. He was just restoring the balance. Really, this girl was so sensitive. Looks like some things still hadn't changed in this world, however – 'man's best friend' was still a drooling, breathing nuisance. Mankind still hadn't grown out of their pathetic codependence on the furry blunder.

As Beth's breathing gradually slowed, he took note of the fact...that she still hadn't placed the bag back onto the sidewalk in front of her again. It was ever so faint, but there nonetheless: the rapid pitter-patter of her heart, filtering through the layers of the wheeled rucksack. Why was she still so worked up over this? There were far bigger things to be worried about in this world today.

A gleaming grin, revealed to none. Like him.

In actuality, it was more than just the awkward interaction that was playing on repeat through Beth's mind. Sure, it wasn't as though having to pass people in close proximity on a daily basis didn't freak her out regularly, what with always feeling like she was in the way, or simply taking up too much space. No, it was another realization that had crossed her thoughts, watching the dog scramble and nearly take her scarlet-hued secret with it.

Forget just other people finding out about him. What if an animal, like another dog – and a hunting breed, at that – decided to get rowdy, even while on the leash, picking up on her little buddy's scent? If she was worried about releasing him back into the wild, to potentially be at the mercy of predators, then it was safe to say, she had to be doubly as cautious in the here and now, against those trained to seek out...and even possibly destroy.

They did live near woods, after all. Even with the cliffs that nobody would bother traversing, it wasn't as though everybody chose to simply leave themselves at the mercy of the wild. She knew a few of the pets on this block were raised for more rugged tasks and expeditions. It would only take one instance of her not paying enough attention, for the worst case scenario to crop up: her new pal, being shaken like a baby at the end of a pair of wide jaws...and this was coming from someone who generally liked dogs, had grown up with them for a few years.

But why, why had that one...practically booked it out of Dodge, when they'd nearly collided? As though it had been electrocuted...oh gosh, no. Not in this weather.

We're almost there...I don't know if we're gonna run into anyone else, though. Of all times for this to be happening - ! Swallowing quietly, Beth slipped the straps over her arms in the front, now carrying the bag backwards against her chest. Yes, it looked weird, but better that than to possibly cross paths with another nosy mutt, who might not be so easily deterred this time around. At least she'd know he was safe, being this close to her.

Again, the rise and fall of her chest, and the frantic rhythm of her heart. He didn't complain, though; it was obvious she was simply taking this extra step of precaution for both their sakes. He could appreciate the effort being put forth for his safety from this jittery human. Her paranoia would serve them well here...

“Ah! Crap!” A mental facepalm then, at catching Beth nearly walking into an oncoming pole. With a jolt of the shoulders and a series of ragged inhales, she almost wound up throwing a punch into the metal. Great – her involuntary tremors were starting to kick in here. Wait, had she remembered to take her meds this morning? She might not have. Even better! Unchecked nerves and sporadic jitters! Exactly what she needed now, of all times!

Eventually, the large glowing red letters of the drugstore loomed into her vision, and Beth practically threw herself through the sliding doors, to be free of the downpour and away from the open air. Now, she could be frantic in an enclosed space instead.

Just some gauze! That's all I need! I'm good on everything else! All I need is a box of rolls, and – damn it, I'm dripping all over the floor! Crud – swearing jar! Forget my life! Beth wanted to scream, arms wrapped around the roller bag as she darted clumsily down the aisles, doing her best to leave as little a trail as possible.

When it rains, it pours. The saying could not have been any more apt than today, as, just when Beth was about to put the bag back down on the floor, an elderly woman carrying a shop basket came by – with another dog in tow directly behind her. This one was smaller and white, clad in a vest labelled 'SERVICE DOG', but a hazard nonetheless. The tiny deer inside instantly felt the fight or flight instinct kick into overdrive – and he was not about to back down.

Another heated burst of ill-intentioned dark energy, as the poor creature let out a startled yap, attempting to scurry up the shelves. This led to a whole display of hair dyes and bleaches being knocked about. Jerking her arms holding the bag back up with a muffled cry of her own, Beth did her best to avoid eye contact from the lady now giving her a loathsome glare, as if she'd been the one to scare her precious fluff ball.

Inside the bag, the vermilion terror was preening, relishing in the auras of distress surrounding them...

...as well as the strained breathing and erratic heart rate of his unwitting human companion. Although he would have preferred her to keep some sort of composure, he had to admit...her excessive reactions were rather memorable. Though, she really shouldn't have been so scared to begin with. They were just other people, nothing to be afraid of. Hell was made up of them, after all. This was merely a good stage rehearsal, before the curtain rose on the actual show. She should consider herself so fortunate to have such a patient and renowned guide at her side.

Guide, huh...? How funny, did he actually care as to her current situation? If that's how they were going to look at it, then by that same token, he could consider her a sort of assistant as well, then – leading him through this new world, however much she erred and stumbled. He supposed it could have been a whole lot worse. Looking at things through this crooked lens certainly made for a far more fascinating character study, he could acknowledge that much.

It took another few minutes, before Beth was finally able to track down the first aid aisle, and grab what she needed. By this point, there was a fair deal of water droplets and wet spots, tracing her messy trajectory through the store. And, as much as she'd have liked to have gone through the self-checkout today, the ones accepting cash weren't working, and the lines were ridiculous for the rest. So, she was stuck waiting for a regular register.

As Beth stood there, shivering in a mix of bone-chilling cold and burning, seething heat, one of the shop workers – a manager, no less, was making her rounds on the floor. As she passed by, her foot made a soft splash, and she looked down, in confused acknowledgement. “What the...?” It was a noticeable puddle. Looking towards the nearest figure – who was none other than Beth, her head tilted. “Umm, excuse me...? I think something of yours is leaking.”

The color had drained from Beth's face as fast as the rainwater that continued to pool both at her feet and in her boots. Shaking her head sadly as she lifted up her gaze and hands fully, she had to speak, all eyes being on her. “N-No...it's just me. I...I walked here...”

The woman's eyes widened, and she nodded slowly, now fully taking in the sight of a thoroughly soaked Beth. There had been a few damp tracks in, but most everybody had come here by car, or only traveling short distances. Where had this woman come from, if she was practically drowning where she stood?

After reassuring her with an apology, which Beth returned, like expected, the woman came back with a few paper towels and a rag. She was ready to put her bag on the side, and wipe up the mess herself, but the manager wouldn't allow her to do so. Thankfully, because if she had gotten down on her hands and knees in front of everyone here, he'd have had something to say about it, somehow.

This fumbling maiden was far too quick on the draw to accept blame, and lower herself for the conveniences and comforts of others. In this case, there was no need – she hadn't caused the mess on purpose. Where was her conviction here – the drive that had allowed her to reach out to him, without a second thought, and stand firm in her choices to assist him, even against his own wishes? Here, she was merely meek and mild, stepping on herself before anybody else could draw close enough into kicking range.

Finally, following what felt like an eternity, they had made their way out of the shop, and back into the storm. With all the tension that had built up inside, Beth was almost looking forward to the sensation of practically being swept away by the raging currents from above. She could still recall nearly knocking the change from the cashier's hand as she'd reached across to grab it and her purchase. The multiple staring figures hadn't helped to ease her nerves one bit, either.

Letting out a soft sigh, she proceeded to pull out her reusable tote, to drop the packaged gauze inside. Bunching it up and shoving it back into the zippered pocket, she pushed the roller bag dejectedly. Beth could practically feel herself dragging against the ground, as she returned through the multiple crosswalks, towards the bottom of the hill. The one thing she could be sure of, was that the larger rucksack was still mostly dry. Her companion was safe.

“I'm sorry...” The small voice was nearly washed out with the heavy rain, but the plaintive call still reached his ears. What was she going on about now? “If I wasn't...such a mess, things could've gone better. If I...wasn't so touched in the head, and could just...be like everyone else. Do stuff like they do.” Huh?

She continued on. “I mean, I'm an adult, and I can't even drive. I have the money, I could get a basic car, but...because of how I am, I'm stuck either hoofing it, bussing it, or catching rides.” How she was? What, so timid and easily flustered? What did any of this matter here? Was she really lamenting not being able to control one of those clunky four-wheeled devices? He'd never really commanded one on his own, either, and it seemed as though they'd only grown more complicated through the passage of time.

The point remained, it wasn't important how they got around, even if the water was annoying. This wasn't an issue on his end – she was exercising the manual labor here, not him, so he was fine. And, he did have to admire her resourcefulness, if just a tad. He was perfectly comfy and cozy in his secondary nest.

Beth's head was hanging, her eyes trained upon the ground as they waited at the second-to-last stoplight. For some reason, this irritated him. They had been successful in their excursion, what was there to feel so down about? All those insignificant people, and their reactions? What did it matter? Let them stare – they could be sheltered all they wanted. It just meant that they were too frightened to put themselves out there, into the thick of things. His human pet may not have been flashy, but she made things work. She strived to do her best. He was willing to applaud her efforts, if nothing else.

Oh, well. If she wanted to mope, that was on her. He wouldn't let it bother him. Though, for but a fleeting second, he couldn't help wondering...

...just exactly what she'd look like, with a true smile upon her face.

They'd made it back to the apartment, Beth ready to melt away into the floor from the sheer weight of guilt, embarrassment, and stress. Oh, she'd have to remember to dry off her shoes too, since she needed to wear them again whenever she went out next. After a storm like this, if she left them alone, they'd take forever and a day. Looks like she was busting out the hairdryer she never used.

Suddenly, a strange sound came forth from her backpack. The small deer had jumped, if only a tad – why was this world so oddly noisy??

Pulling out the phone, Beth felt her brow furrow, at the number reflected upon the screen. Another one she didn't recognize. Was it someone else from the studio? It could be important. So, with trepidation, though she was attempting to mask it under the self-assured public persona from the airwaves, Beth answered the call.

“...hello?”

Chapter 9: Don't Call Us, We'll Call You

Chapter Text

No more. No more waiting. No more f*cking waiting! He couldn't hold out any longer!

Four days. It had been four dreary, lonely days, since he'd last heard the tones of his beloved filtering through the speakers. That was far too long.

Curse this miserable weather! If he'd had the power, he would have cleared it up in a second. Or, perhaps, in his blind rage, he would have drowned the whole world, extinguishing all of the pesky, insipid little ants masquerading as humans. Then, he'd ride on the currents to his one and only. Sweeping her away, both figuratively and literally. Right into his arms.

The phone was clutched tightly in his trembling hands. Because the station was still off the air, obviously he wasn't calling there. No, instead, he was going to have to take the plunge...

...and ring Beth at her home instead.

He'd had her number for how long now, but something or other had always stopped him from jumping the divide, and making things more personal. Taking the situation to her front doorstep, in a sense, before he actually made it there physically. It was as though he were back in high school, heart fluttering as he worked up the courage to call his crush on a school night, and ask her out.

Except he hadn't walked through those hallways in how many years, and never once had any of those shallow whor*s ever returned his feelings, let alone given his perfectly planned advances a chance. They were always interested in everyone else who wasn't him. Like he were some sort of diseased freak.

Even when he'd showered them with his affections, be it through lovingly crafted notes of poetry, or gift after gift. When he'd followed them everywhere, just to prove his devotion. That he'd go to the ends of the Earth for them, if they'd only give him a chance. He was far superior to any of those sh*tty jocks, gangsters, skater boys, even straight-A gifted and talented pricks. Why couldn't they see his greatness, his potential?

No, things were different now. He wasn't using his usual MO here, with his precious Beth. He could save all the pampering, all the excess, for when he finally had her in his grasp. When the world was finally turned right, instead of topsy-turvy. Not that he thought he would be wasting his time starting out so strongly with her either, just...he was older now, wiser. He'd learned the art of the hunt, of playing it cool, and staying patient.

At least, up until this moment. This was where his tolerance ended. Who knew when this storm would let up? It could stop in a day, or keep on going for another week! He wanted her, needed her! He was craving her, like the finest wine. He had to have her, in some way or another. One way or another. The beast inside was hungering, howling for its regular input. His bride had been kept from him for long enough.

The numbers under the name in his contacts list were starting to blur in his vision. She'd been resting there comfortably, as if they'd known each other for ages. Was he so nervous, that the tears were about to fall? Or, was that sweat dripping into his eyes? Who really knew, and more importantly, who really cared?

Oh, the things she did to him! His heart was thudding painfully hard in his chest, with every shaky breath he drew in. His fingers reached forth, to press at the icon upon the touch screen. Bringing the device up to his ear, he felt his pulse skip, as the rings echoed. Again...and again...and again...

Then, the click.

…...

For a few moments, Beth almost thought that the line had been cut somehow, what with the extended silence. However, there hadn't been any indicator of a disturbance. She was torn between holding on, and signing off herself. For all she knew, it was one of those scam calls, that tried to record your voice for future use, somehow having overwritten the detection software on her phone.

But, just as she was about to pull it away from her ear...

“...is this Beth?” An audible swallow. She felt her forehead twitch involuntarily. The voice was heavy, a bit rough. Thick with some sort of emotion she couldn't identify. Somehow, she knew: this wasn't any sort of business call. And, since they were asking her to confirm her identity, it obviously wasn't a friend, either.

The minutes were ticking by, but despite the strange circ*mstances, she wasn't one to usually just hang up on somebody, no matter if they were a telemarketer or a survey collector. Not without at least saying her piece, and then sending them away. Curse her for having been raised to be so accommodating!

Another couple of seconds passed, before she was able to find her voice, and answer. “Yes...may I ask who's calling?”

Again, the quiet, before suddenly...a low chuckle reached her ears. For whatever reason, the sound made the hairs on the back of Beth's neck stand on end. Why was this guy laughing?

“It's...finally happening...I've finally reached you...” Reached her? What, had he been trying to contact her more than once? That was impossible – this was the first time she was seeing the number. It was clear, this guy wasn't any sort of census taker. Nor was he associated with her business. Which meant...

...some rando had gotten ahold of her number. Crap. Not good. Instantly, the panic began to creep in. Her hand tightened around the smart device, as she prepared to end the connection. “Look, I'm sorry, but I-I don't know how you found me. And I don't – I don't know what you want, but I'm – I'm busy, so I have to - ”

Suddenly, the screeching cry. “No! You can't go! Please!” She nearly dropped the phone. There was such a forceful desperation in his voice, effectively halting her where she stood. On the floor, her creature companion was staring up curiously, wondering just what exactly was going on at the other end of the line.

It wasn't as though he didn't know what the thing was. They had existed during his time, though they weren't exactly common. In his prior home however, almost everyone had one, albeit of a different style than he'd been used to. More akin to the one she was using at the moment. He'd never had any need for one; if he wanted to contact somebody, he much preferred to seek them out face-to-face. It was far more direct, and effective in getting results. People couldn't ignore you when you were calling them out personally, one-on-one. They couldn't run or hide.

What was this reaction he was seeing here, though? Beth was slightly pale now – well, paler than she usually was, anyway. Her brow was creased, and she was biting at her lower lip. Her body was trembling slightly; it was clear that she was nervous. But, the anxiety being displayed here...was on a different level than what he'd seen so far. He couldn't hear a single word being spoken through the speaker, but whatever was being said, it was having a noticeable effect on his human pet.

Cornered. That was the best way to describe how Beth felt, in that moment. Memories were washing over her; of being trapped, at the mercy of loud voices, heated demands, as if she were an animal in headlights. She could recall...intense gazes, hot breath, unwanted upon her skin, arms wrapped tightly, pinning her in place, wandering touches...

...gradually becoming harsh commands, heated glares, accusations, bodies leaning in closer, hands upon her shoulders, her back being slammed into the wall -

Hang up. Why couldn't she just hang up?

“Please...” The voice on the other end had softened, to an almost whisper. It wasn't any more comforting, only serving to put her on the spot further. He sounded so...wounded, as if he'd shatter, should she utter anything too harsh or bitter. Well, join the club! Her nerves were on fire, fear coursing through her veins as she struggled to find a way out of this. Perhaps, if she could just figure out what this unknown wanted, she could get him off the line faster, and save herself from the rest of the terror that currently had her rooted to the spot. Damn her for being such a sentimental people-pleaser! Why couldn't she just say “No”?? She couldn't even be bothered by the swearing here!

Inhaling with an involuntary tremor, Beth spoke, at long last. “How...did you get this number? Who are you?” She couldn't tell which was louder now: the crashing beats of her heart, or the rapidly stretching lull between them. Or even...the full, labored breathing, beginning to permeate the air. His breathing. Like he'd just finished running a marathon.

A scary movie. That's what this was reminiscent of. One of those slasher flicks she'd loved when she was younger, where the killer taunted his victims over the phone, forcing them to play his twisted games. Granted, this guy hadn't threatened her just yet, but the horror was all too real.

Now, there was more chuckling. Awkward, disjointed. Like a faulty recording. “I can't believe it...I've finally – finally gotten through...at long last. You don't know...how many times, I tried to call, but they...they never let me on the air...”

A tight pang in her chest. This guy...was a listener of her show. He knew what she did for a living. And somehow...he'd gotten hold of her contact information. Oh crud – was she going to have to change her number after this? The dread continued to inch up her spine, like a poisonous spider slowly crawling, looking for the perfect place to sink its fangs.

This wasn't like being on the clock; there was nobody filtering the callers, or manning the lines, to edit or cut off anyone offensive. But all it would take here, was just a yank and a push. Beth could get out of this. She could! She wasn't obligated to humor this invasive stranger! She didn't have to watch her tongue! She was an adult now, not a child! She didn't always have to listen; didn't always have to be so reserved and accepting. She was allowed to be rude! She was allowed to be selfish, and think of herself first. There was no benefit to staying on the line!

“Your voice...it's so soothing. Thank you...for answering.” The compliment did not serve to assuage her fears. If anything, they made the discomfort rise further. She remembered hearing stories, of people getting tapped for these sorts of interactions, just for the person on the other line...to use them for 'self-gratification' purposes. That was the most polite way she could describe it as. Oh God, had she gotten roped into one of those situations?! Gross, gross, gross!

Beside her, the deer could feel his eyes narrowing. The reticence was starting to irk him, as was his caretaker's responses. From the way it sounded, whatever was going on here, wasn't enjoyable for her, by any means. So then why...why wasn't she simply ending things? Phones weren't that difficult to turn off, right? Not from what he could remember seeing, anyhow. Why was this woman continuing to subject herself to...this? This bizarre interaction?

She wasn't paying attention to him. Time to step in. With a flash of red eyes, a matching glow settled into the electronic clutched at her ear. A few small, dark tendrils extended from the machine, waving in the air but completely unnoticed by the woman, before vanishing with a muted pop. There, much better. Now, he could hear for himself exactly what was being exchanged here, from the other end of things.

“What...do you want? Wh-Why did you call me?” In all actuality, Beth didn't care one iota about why this intruder had contacted her. All she wanted was an out; a way to break the spell of panic and calamity that had befallen her, almost demanding she stay focused on this frightful verbal meeting, crossing dangerous territory and how many boundaries. All she could see, was a younger her, at the mercy of the hunters – whoever had stepped into the role of tormentor for the day. Whether it was family, fellow students, or even housemates. Many, many, many faces had assumed the role over the years, and she'd been powerless to stop them every time.

In retrospect, it was a miracle she was still alive, let alone retaining any of her sanity.

Another trembling inhale from the other end. Then, the bombshell. “Ive...been following you. For a very, very long time now.” Her heart dropped. “So long...it's been so long...but, I've finally found you. It's been...so lonely, without you to listen to. You don't know...how much I've missed you.”

Beth could feel the sweat, slick on her palms, and dripping down her temples. Her clothes were sticking to her, weighed down from the earlier rain, though at the moment, it was as if she were in a sauna. The heat was suffocating, practically strangling her. Following her? Did he only mean her show, or...?! Just where was this guy even ringing her from? Most likely a cell phone. But what location? He wasn't peeking in on her right now, was he?! Oh, how she longed to break free – to run away, even if it was to just check out the windows, though she was pretty certain there was no nearby vantage point where he could have possibly been spying on her from.

No, she was locked in place, knees knocking together and drawing inwards, just like the rest of her. Like she were being sucked into a black hole, from the inside out.

He couldn't see her discomfort, not a scrap of it, this unknown tormentor on the other line. No, he continued prattling on, as if they were old friends, and this was a perfectly natural interaction. “Yes, I've missed you...how have you been? The weather is so very scary right now, isn't it? Are you scared? It's okay, you don't have to be. I'm here now...I'm here. I'll always be here. You don't have to worry. I promise, I'll take care of you, my sweet Beth...”

By this point, the smaller being upon the floor had heard enough. Once more, it was crystal clear that whoever this was, he wasn't anybody that his human companion knew, let alone was comfortable talking to. Why she didn't have any sort of spine, to simply cut him off right then and there, was beyond him. But if she wouldn't do it, fine. Yet again, it appeared as if he'd have to step in, and solve the problem on his own.

“Y-You don't know me...you don't know me.” Her words were tumbling forth, a halting babble of weak, flimsy retorts. She was grasping at straws, waiting for the moment when she could wrench that doggone tool away from her ear, and end this morbid farce once and for all. “And I – I don't know, how you got this number, but you need to - ”

Click! Suddenly, the dial tone. The connection had been severed. It was as though a great pressure had been released from every inch of her being; Beth could feel her pulse steadying, the sweat starting to cool. Had he hung up? Had she scared him off?

Beside her, the deer let out a huff under his breath. What insipid nonsense that fool was spouting, whoever he may have been. Know her? It was apparent to anyone with eyes, that even before Beth's pathetic comeback, they knew each other about as well as a desert knew the rain. Which was to say, not at all. And if the female wasn't strong enough, for whatever reason, to end the call herself, then it was on him to serve as mediator, and save her, as it were, from wasting her time any further.

Ha. Really – playing any sort of savior. What a contradiction to everything he stood for. He wasn't a hero. No – he was a star, who'd gone way too far, a long time ago. He was the one that others needed to protect themselves from. He was the one the heroes feared. The one they tried, and failed, to hunt down and bring to their mockery of 'justice'. Pathetic.

The only ones who could truly take down a monster...were other monsters. They were the single group of beings who'd ever been able to lay a finger on him – and here he found himself now, licking his wounds in hungry loathing. Oh...this world wouldn't know what hit it, once he'd returned to full form. Neither would his past dwelling, when he'd gotten the opportunity to give them a taste of their own medicine.

But not yet. He was going to enjoy his second chance on Earth first, and milk it for all it was worth. Starting here, by possibly shaping this weakling into something more presentable and palatable to his preferences. For amusem*nt purposes only, mind you...so long as she gave him a reason not to merely kill her at the first opportunity.

Right now, this current showing was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. This was the lowest point he'd seen her so far, even more so than her sad stroll home in the rain. It bothered him, in spite of the jagged golden grin hidden behind the softer appearing exterior.

Slowly, Beth could feel the air flowing back into her lungs – when had she started holding her breath? - as she lowered the phone from her ear. She was free now. She was free. However it had happened, she didn't care. The only important thing, was that it was all over. The terrors of the current moment, and the specters of yesteryear, were being shoved back into the mental Pandora's Box, sealed under multiple layers in her psyche. She hadn't had an attack like that in so long...not even the instance at the store earlier could compare to this.

Her bubble had been popped. It wasn't as though she didn't know the risks of being any sort of entertainment personality. She knew the potential for stalkers was high. She'd read the articles while growing up; the macabre, sordid cases, of various figures being tailed, tormented...even attacked or murdered, in some cases. But, her naive optimism, had blinded her with a false sense of security – that she wasn't so big, that she was only small potatoes, that she had covered her tracks well enough. That nobody would ever come after her.

But they had. Somebody out there had her number. Who knew what other dirt they had on her? They could very well have had her address too. Which reminded her...

“Hah!” With frantic footsteps and a jolting dive forwards, Beth had yanked open the curtains covering her parlor window, looking out and over the parking lot, and hill leading downwards. There was nobody outside at the moment; aside from cars, the lot was devoid of bodies. Nobody coming or going, no smokers, no security on patrol. For the first time since moving in, Beth truly felt vulnerable.

What...should I do here? Should I...get the cops involved? A twirl of the stud behind her lips. No...no, that wouldn't work. It was only one instance. She didn't have any sort of extensive paper trail. And, she had enough experience in reading these sorts of cases, to know that cops were godawful at reacting to stalkers. It was no wonder that so many of them ended in some sort of tragedy. They weren't going to do anything here. Even if she passed on the number, glaring at her from her list of recent calls.

For the time being, Beth was stuck. At most, all she could do, was block them, and hope that would be all to come of this. Obviously, they knew where she worked. But hopefully, that was the extent of it. She didn't even want to slightly humor the thought, of the creep having any further info. If she did, she'd never be able to relax again.

Letting out a sigh, the woman made her way over towards the couch, pulling off her sweater in the process. Adjusting the long-sleeved turtleneck beneath, and shaking out her damp locks, she plopped down upon the cushions, sinking in as if her body were made of solid lead. Throwing the shed article of clothing on the seat beside her, she leaned back, and closed her eyes.

At her feet, was where her silent little friend stood now, watching her nearly melt into the couch. Tilting his head, he studied her form for a few seconds. Most of the shaking seemed to have calmed; her breathing was evening out, as was her heartbeat.

Inside, he found himself oddly torn; as much as he was glad that the 'crisis', as it were, had been averted, for all its annoyances...there was that tiny part of him, that relished in her terror. In an instant, he could harken back to the experience of their shared 'vision', how many nights before. It was second nature for him; he thrived on reactions, and the more extreme, the better.

Though, at the same time...he could see it, just as clearly in his mind's eye: the sight of her singing like a songbird, her soul practically soaring in flight from the high. Her joy, no matter if she tried to hide it...was a powerful sight as well.

And...he still hadn't yet seen her smile. The current greatest rarity of all.

Hm? Suddenly, he found himself being lifted from the ground, and placed upon a pair of long legs. Her lap. Beth had picked him up, without hesitation, and was now absently stroking him. As if he were...some sort of pet. Him, the pet instead, and meant to comfort, no less! Immediately, he started to bristle. Just what did she think she was -

Then, the humming. A new melody, one he hadn't yet heard, was starting to filter forth from her lips. Without realizing it, his struggling had halted.

“Bury me in fantasy,

And fleeting childhood rhapsody.

Set me free, but I'll always be,

An innocent catastrophe...”

This time, the tune was gentler, softer. Like a lullaby, as opposed to the other two songs she'd belted out before. Her voice was sweet, ever so sweet...and sad. As if, in just those four lines, she was looking backwards, transported to another place. Another life, another existence...another her. One who may or may not have still existed, in some form or another, in this present day.

“Climb the tallest of the trees,

To touch the stars across the sky.

Mother, may I share my tears?

Upon the breeze, I drift and cry.”

Although her voice was wavering slightly, not a single drop of water escaped her eyes. Beth remembered hearing this song, how long ago as a child. It had been from a movie, based upon a book – one about chaotic magic wielders, dark history, and stolen youth. The melody had been used to cast a spell, upon an unsuspecting populace. It was a forlorn wish to share one's anguish, and form an unshakable bond. It couldn't be broken...

...not until the singer had died in the story. A barely held back shudder then, at the memory of witnessing that ending. In her youth, it had terrified her; as an adult, it had wrenched at her heart.

“As I wander lost, morose,

I ask you not to pity me.

I only wish for open hearts,

And feelings bound, to be set free...”

Suddenly, being held so closely, as an object of reassurance...didn't seem so bad? Not when he was able to listen to another memorable set of lyrics, at least. Fine. She was obviously still shaken up, and this was how she was choosing to calm down. If it wasn't for him, she'd most likely still be tethered on that stupid exchange, but if this was her form of repayment...he'd accept it. This time.

If she started getting any more handsy though, or tried to cuddle with him beyond his limits, he'd put a swift stop to it, courtesy of his four hooves. He might have been injured, but he certainly wasn't down for the count.

Thin fingers, barely brushing against the tuft of fur atop his head, as the final words tumbled from her lips.

“Oh, grant me mercy, close my eyes

A shelter from the living's storm.

Mother please, upon your word,

Through the pain, I am reborn...”

Sometimes, in the past, she'd find herself crying while singing this tune, just a little. She'd hated herself in those moments; the song was a favorite, but she unfortunately couldn't always control her reactions. Thank goodness that this time around, no matter her current mental state, she was able to keep it together. Especially in front of her new friend. She was so tired...and so tired, of being so broken...

As the last note faded into the air, her touches ceased. His ears twitched, as once more, he felt himself being lifted. It was as if something were being dispelled; a strange quality had descended upon the scene, woven tightly between them in this space that only they shared. For some reason now...he had a feeling, she didn't do this very often. Hmm, perhaps singing professionally wasn't her profession after all? If so...was he special then, being the sole witness to these moments?

And, if that was the case...what was his response, being privy to such a thing?

“Come on, little guy...” Her voice was faint, but clear. She was weary; drained from the weather, the environment, the various interactions she'd had to navigate and endure. For the time being, all of her spoons were spent. “I've got to get you patched up properly.” Oh, that's right. They had gone out for a reason, after all. For his sake.

Already, the woman was making her way towards the bag of supplies she'd left discarded upon the floor how many minutes ago, kneeling down to rifle through its contents. The deer watched her, in solemn fascination. As to his earlier inquiry?

He had no answer. All he knew...was the strange sense of emptiness that now lingered beside and around him, at the distance of her presence and contact. He had no idea what to make of this unusual occurrence.

But he wouldn't be questioning this for much longer. He'd make sure of it.

…...

Meanwhile, many miles away, another storm was raging...one of an entirely human creation. Alone in his room, a man cursed the heavens, and bad reception, for stealing away the voice of his beloved. Not a thing was spared in his dwelling; all suffered at the hands of his entitled wrath, even if none were living.

At least the first contact had been established, though. It was only a matter of time, before that bond would become permanent. He'd spent far too long pursuing his beautiful prize, to let her escape his attentions. She was his, and his alone.

Once the skies cleared, he would prove this fact. He was ready to step up, and claim her heart. And woe to any who would try and deny him. 'No' was not a valid answer.

Even if it came from Beth herself.

Chapter 10: Somebody's Watching Me

Chapter Text

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Swift footsteps were making their way down a long hallway. They hesitated not a second in their course.

The walls surrounding the figure in motion were a deep cherry, while the floors were a rich shade of brown. What was visible from under the narrow, dark violet carpet, was highly polished. But although the pathway was illuminated, the light, designed to mimic torches, did not serve to provide much glow. However, that didn't matter to him, progressing towards a large pair of white double doors – the brightest object in the space – bearing a vibrant apple insignia upon their surface.

Golden handles turned smoothly, as in another few steps, the man had made his way through, on another straight trajectory towards a large table and swiveling seat, reminiscent of a king's throne. The desktop was filled with stacks of papers, as well as a couple of thick books. One was open, a ribbon marker neatly draped down the center of the pages.

As he sat, the chair let out a slight groan – it had always squeaked, a minor annoyance to his ears. The sound grated on his pride, taken in his upkeep of such a flawless outer persona. None would ever have any doubt that he was in charge of all matters here, among the fiery pits of the damned and weary.

And nobody would ever be allowed to slight him, either. Be it an unkind word, muttered under one's breath as he passed by on a morning stroll, or a cheating hand during a game at the local tables. Any invasive method of expressing dissent with his rule. Every source was tracked back and tapped out. Problems were quickly and quietly eradicated in his kingdom, though he could just as well have made examples of every last individual, if he so chose. They should have been grateful for that speck of mercy, at least. Their suffering was expedited, under his steady hand.

The peasants were free to have their own opinions of him, certainly. However, he wasn't obligated to play nice and simply allow them to run their mouths. They didn't have to praise him, but that didn't grant them a free pass to stab him in the back, either.

How long. How long now, had he been in charge? How many had stepped up to him before, attempting to wrest control away, only to be struck down in an instant? He hadn't seen what he'd seen, learned what he had, gone through every last scrape and skirmish and humiliation, rising from the mud and blood and ashes, just to be sent face-first in it again.

No. He'd earned this crown, at the ultimate cost: clipped wings and a forever sullied name high above – completely erased from the family tree, stripped of former ranking and worth in the eyes of a Father who expected nothing more than the ultimate cookie-cutter servitude. No rationale, no independent thought or opinion. Only blind loyalty and upholding of a rule that had still been proven faulty, what with how many of his most prized creation, even beyond the heavenly kingdom, had found their way into his flock of black sheep. And, day by day, the numbers continued to grow.

He leaned forward in his seat, fingers lacing together as he rested his elbows upon the desk. His eyes briefly dropped down, scanning over a few of the written lines, before they began to blur. He'd read over them how many times already, could practically recite them by heart – and yet, the results were the same. He still had no answers as to his current greatest conundrum.

One thing. One thing. It was a line that had begun crossing his conscious thoughts more often, during these moments of tensely introspective searchings. It was a real mind-f*ck, both familiar and vexing, all in a single package. It was something he shouldn't have had to dwell on to begin with, but...oh, what was the saying, “every rose has its thorns”? In this case, even a world customized to his specific whims and tastes...was not perfect.

Was it the same headache, for his oh-so-pure and heavenly Father figure, when he himself had begun to sow the seeds of dissent, all those millennia ago?

In all his time upon his self-appointed throne, not a single threat had ever arisen, that he couldn't combat. Even the yearly Exterminations were of but minor concern to him – Heaven could employ whatever tactics they wished, it wouldn't stop the fact that humans, by their very design, were born of sin, and would find their way back to it, no matter how many signs or roadblocks were propped up in their way. Any fools that were caught in the crossfire could easily be replaced.

And it wasn't as though he had to worry about being extinguished himself, either; even if he wasn't already armed to the teeth, his dear doting parental figure up top, for whatever reason, would not allow his underlings to take aim. Perhaps a silly belief that maybe, one day, he'd 'see the error of his ways', repent, and then everything would explode into sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows? That he'd fly right back into his arms, and his domain would simply just...evaporate?

Ha. Fat chance of that ever happening. Grudges had existed for as long as he'd been alive – all three realms were built to thrive upon them. Forgiveness was more than just saying “I'm sorry”, and he really wasn't. If he'd had to choose, between being blind in paradise, or awake in misery, he knew which one he'd pick, every time. Because once you were aware, then the real fun could begin.

Pain didn't have to mean defeat. He'd tasted it once, but had still hauled himself back onto his feet, and now look! He had built up a realm that was the ultimate antithesis to where he'd originally hailed from. It was strong, it was full, it was thriving. On Earth, next to Godly worship, he was revered in infamy.

Back to the main subject. The point was, as King of the nine circles below, he too, had to deal with a fair share of backlash, usually from unfortunate saps who just. Did not. Understand. The way things worked. Down here. And that was fine, because he'd been easily able to counter each and every issue...

...until now.

When that one first wound up crossing his radar, he hadn't known what to make of it. His human history had been rather colorful, a mishmash of various themes and stories. However, no matter the background, once you were another of the condemned, that was it. You learned to go with the flow, and accept your new designation.

But this guy...oh no, he hadn't liked that idea at all. Far from it, in fact – he'd turned Hell clear on its head with his reign of calamity and brutality! Such powers he'd possessed, and he hadn't even been born as a demon! How could a mortal soul bear such abilities??

As ruler, there were two options available here: either he could have personally eliminated him, or...worked out a new offer, to get those strengths on his side instead. It wasn't every day that a person like this crossed over, and perhaps...he could be a useful pawn, in the long run, to further his conquests?

Both bloodthirsty and crafty, well-versed in magic, quick on the draw, almost as charming as he himself? After all, it wasn't as though he was rebelling out of some desire to usurp, no – he simply needed to find his place. And, as something of a Father figure to his cursed lambs...why not grant him some guidance? Certainly, it wouldn't be a waste, to at least attempt in strengthening his reserves. This spirit wasn't stupid, from what he could tell. Just lost.

Thus, he'd arranged a meeting, laying his cards upon the table, and seeing where this new face's prospects for him fell. In the end, just as he'd thought: he'd been quite willing to accept a position of rank, and lend his unique prowess. Capturing the souls of those who bore outstanding debts to the underworld, of spooks and specters that they'd summoned for their own personal benefit. He acted as something of a Grim Reaper, because once those souls were in the clutches of the Infernal...they were as good as dead.

His hands had unfolded now, one drumming against the open pages, while the other cradled his chin. That should have been the end of it, really. But no. Nothing was ever that simple, was it?

That bastard...he'd tried to pull the wool over his eyes. The names had disappeared, one by one, as was routine. But...they weren't going where they were meant to. The numbers weren't adding up. More souls were vanishing, but not to fitting sentences. Bit by bit, the gaps and discrepancies grew...

...as did the random riotous outbreaks. Strange stories, of a depraved madman, preying upon the populaces, hijacking the airwaves – radio frequencies, of all things! - just to broadcast these feeding frenzies. Nobody could offer proper descriptions, just...static. And red. So much red. A strange name, ascribed to this menacing force, floating upon the arid air. Destruction, of his lovingly crafted nightmare. A manner of chaos his realm could barely keep up with.

Ahunger unlike any other.

But. After how many decades...he finally figured it out; put two-and-two together, when one of the condemned had been caught and slaughtered. They were running an underhanded errand, on behalf of a new Master – who'd just finished another successful rampage, in fact.

Oh, upon discovering this? He. Was. Livid. So much so, that he hadn't bothered waiting for backup. No, he'd chosen to barrel in, at that very moment. To catch him off-guard, with all the intent in the world to claim his head, right then and there, with his own two hands. He hadn't given him a second to breathe, to think of a battle strategy.

How satisfying it had been, to see that self-assured grin warp. Even for just a moment, as he'd taken that first strike, drawn the first blood, nearly separating his side...!

However, the emboldened thorn had a couple aces remaining up his sleeves. He'd opened a portal to Earth – just strong enough for a one-way trip, before he could land the finishing blow. Not only that, but he'd done...something, to his presence. As soon as he'd passed through, he'd...evaporated, basically. Like he'd never existed to begin with.

Bullsh*t. He was very much still alive. That wound wasn't enough to end him. The question was: where?

This was the position that the cursed King found himself in currently: attempting to track down that rotten trickster, without alerting the ones above, that a rather powerful Demon was now running amok on their precious planet.

How could this have happened? He was the all-seeing! He was supposed to be sharper than his Father! He'd suffered so much, just to strike out on his own! And now...this! This black mark, this slight, this injustice! That cretin could not be allowed to escape, with such a title to his name: the one who had managed to betray and get away, in one piece!

The hand on the book was beginning to clutch at the thick pages, claws extending. Up top as well, his pale skin was now starting to bleed, where the ends of his nails were scraping and puncturing. He paid the minor ache and stains no mind; all he could focus on, was the sight of that smug wretch, as he'd blipped into nothingness, all with a snap of the fingers. If spontaneous combustion were a thing, the Infernal would be as hot as the pits themselves where he sat! And then everything else would be cooking just as quickly, because he wasn't going down alone.

What was the solution to this dilemma, without getting himself dragged any further? It wasn't as though Demons didn't wind up on Earth from time to time – the problem was, they were always sent back. They weren't strong enough, or independent enough, to waltz around on their own two feet, completely unchecked. A lot of them were tethered to specific areas or objects, even people. But they could be banished, exorcised.

This guy...operated by his own design. He had no strings. He was able to bind those other souls to him without breaking a sweat, drawing up his own guidelines and contracts, as if he were some sort of head honcho himself. He'd been doing it for how long, right under his nose. And he'd completely erased his energy, upon returning to the mortal realm.

He was dangerous – not for the humans, like the ruler of Hell really cared what happened to them. No, he was a headache for their end. If the higher-ups found out that they'd been harboring someone like that, intending to unleash him upon Heaven, should the opportunity arise to make use of an army, but he'd been released to wreak havoc upon the celestial Father's prized mortal realm instead...

Forget yearly Purges. They'd probably become weekly, if all-out war wasn't just up and declared! If they decided that it was too much of a risk to allow the Hell-scape to exist any longer. It wasn't like Heaven didn't know how to fight – they'd just liked touting a mask of peace and pacifism as it suited them for the time being.

No. He could not, would not allow that to happen! This unruly sinner was going to pay dearly for what he'd done.

Even if...it was as if he were looking into a reflection of the past.

Suddenly, a knocking at the door. Impeccable timing, because the male had been just about to rip his perfect face off without a second's hesitation, from the fury coursing through his veins. The distraction was welcomed. Arguing with himself and panicking wasn't going to solve matters. He needed to remember who he was, and what he was capable of.

For the time being, he'd have to put his concerns on the back burner. He had no good plans, and he couldn't charge into this half-co*cked. Like he really needed to give anyone up above or below a reason to further question him. This would require some careful plotting. As though he were an author, working towards their magnum opus.

Or like when he brought his favorite polka tunes to life through his faithful accordion, trusting his fingers to flawlessly find the notes.

Another knock, as he stood from his chair, making his way towards the far left wall. A small hanging mirror greeted his sight, as did his disheveled, bloody appearance. With a soft tsk and a wave of his hand, he was back to a pristine state. At long last, ready to answer his caller with a wide smile. There was no need to be upset.

After all...Lucifer would never let anybody see him sweat, friend or foe alike.

…...

It wasn't until Wednesday afternoon, that two things occurred: an update on the miserable weather's course, and Beth returning to the land of the living, after a shaky night up too late, monitoring the views from her windows.

She'd barely been able to eat, though her pal had eagerly devoured what was left of the ham. Her nerves had been shot from the events of earlier. Once again, the cinnamon whiskey had come out, to fuel roughly three shots, along with another pot of coffee. All she could imagine, was the prior situation on repeat, only escalated by a thousand percent. What if he somehow found a way around the number block? What if he tried to text her? What if he was some sort of hacker? What if he didn't need to be there physically, to know what she was up to?

Or, what if...what if...what if...!

Her thoughts had been leading her on a one-way crash course to breaking down entirely, had she not finally given in at around four a.m, taking her meds, and passing out fitfully for the next ten hours.

By the time she awoke, bleary-eyed and haggard, the rain had already begun its steady procession in cycling out, and she'd missed both a phone call and message from the station. Repairs were slated for Thursday, so she needed to prepare for a return to the studio on Friday. That gave her just about a couple of days to put together a show, and then two more days away before a full week, a mix of down and study time.

Also, a little longer to figure out if she could officially leave her bizarre little buddy all on his own.

His wound was healing. That was good. But. Was it steady enough, nearly a week later, to trust him to his own devices? Even if she kept him locked in a single space, be it her bedroom or even the bathroom, if she didn't deer-proof the areas as best as possible, he could still find his way into a world of trouble. Some of the mental images that came to mind were reminiscent of online videos; animals getting into things like toilet paper, and having themselves a party.

Or, more specific to her situation: headbutting the shelf, like she'd been fearful of before, knocking her beloved radio down. Chewing on her cables, either disabling her electronics, or giving himself a nasty shock. Even just getting into the rest of her belongings, somehow, and scattering them about. She was not fond of coming home to a trashed abode, whatever the form, just because he got bored. Or even further injuries, but that one went without saying.

At least I'm lucky he didn't act up while I was dead to the world this morning...my head is spinning, and that's the last thing I'd have been able to deal with. Beth had always been a lightweight when it came to drinking – interesting, considering her heritage and genetics, but okay. Her cheap booze was designed to get a person screwed up quickly. Quite frankly, she shouldn't have been drinking at all, and it wasn't just because of the prescriptions she was on. But shh – don't let her therapist know.

Which reminded her...when was her next appointment, anyway? She needed a refill on her meds soon. Splashing some cold water on her still flushed cheeks, she swayed slightly where she stood in front of the kitchen sink. Grabbing a glass to fill, she headed back to her room. No matter if half the day was already over, she was making sure she took her pills. Her shakes weren't prominent at the moment, but she was still a tad lightheaded, with a tremor in her hands. As she hurriedly gulped down the dose, parched throat eagerly accepting the water, a few thoughts were filtering through the forefront of her mind.

She hadn't bothered changing the rest of her clothes yesterday, and desperately needed a shower. She was running behind on laundry. She'd run out of gloves and underwear, at this rate. It was always the smaller pieces that dwindled down fastest. Maybe she should get on that, then? Along with compiling together viable topics to discuss during Friday's show. She didn't know what might happen over the course of the next day and a half, so it was best to pick subjects with a decent shelf life. Not a fleeting headline. Were there any big events coming up soon? Any more holidays? Oh, relevant celebrity birthdays or entertainment landmarks?

A sudden, nauseated pang then, as her head noise screeched to a halt, before jumping backwards violently. Immediately, she was reminiscing over that unwanted invasion of privacy the day prior. That's right...the guy who'd called her. He was a listener of her show. Most likely, he'd be tuning in once again, and...well, who really knew? Getting his jollies in some way or another.

Beth shuddered violently. That was the last thing she needed here – imagining the amusem*nt processes of some unhealthily attached nutjob. She couldn't control who consumed her content, let alone how they chose to act on it. All she could do was focus on herself, and getting the job done. And she truly did love her work – she wasn't about to let this creep steal that away from her. Not after everything she'd gone through just to reach this point in her life.

Now she was fiddling with the ends of her long locks. She was certain her head resembled a rat's nest. Good thing she had nowhere to go, and nobody to impress. She could worry about tangles later. There were bigger fish to fry.

First things first: shower, or laundry? She had a fair deal of the latter built up, along with what she was currently wearing. She wanted to get it all taken care of, so it would be best if she cleaned up first, then took on the chores of the day. She'd probably be in the washing room downstairs for a couple of hours too, at least, so she needed to get her stuff together; make sure she could still be productive while waiting.

She was too paranoid to leave her belongings unattended, so if she wanted to get started on her show outlines, it would all have to be through the browser and notes on her phone. Not like she hadn't done this routine before, she just hoped that the connection wasn't too spotty or fickle downstairs, what with the weather still on the fritz somewhat. She'd had issues with reception before, and that was on a better day.

And hey, she could look at this as a sort of litmus test, since she wouldn't be able to bring her crimson confidant with her. If he could handle this time on his own, then maybe Friday wouldn't be so bad.

Letting out a sigh, Beth headed for her closet, then dresser, throwing together a new outfit. Something cozy, and baggy. She liked most of her clothes on the looser side, or at least the tops. Usually, her bottoms consisted of skinny jeans or yoga pants – even if she wasn't the most physically fit, the stretchy garments were undeniably comfy, and easy to pull on. No zippers or buttons, if she really wasn't in the mood.

As the bathroom door clicked closed and locked, a pair of vermillion eyes were trained upon its wooden surface, staring both at and through the barrier. She'd barely interacted with him upon awakening, and it was obvious she was still on edge from the day before.

All this anxiety...was really starting to grate on his nerves. He didn't consider himself an impatient sort, either. Just, this woman...her routines, they were baffling to him. And he didn't like being out of the loop.

He'd said before, that he would win this game, no matter what. This was still the plan. However, it felt as though the questions kept piling up faster than he could act on getting the answers he wanted. For every day that passed, he was left wondering more and more: what was at play here? His hands – hooves? - were still quite tied and limited, in a world he hadn't been apart of for nearly a century. And his only resource was somebody who almost seemed to be just as distant from the main event, in her own way, as he himself.

But, at least he had an excuse! You couldn't do much after death! You go where you go! What could her reason possibly be, for seeming so stunted and out of touch?

It wasn't as though he hadn't met an oddball or two in his existence, above and below. You had to be a bit off your rocker, to wind up where he had, in some way or another. Everyone just operated at different skill levels; the ability to distinguish between what to reveal, and conceal. He considered himself far more adept at the game than most. This female – Beth – on the other hand...

She wasn't firing on all four burners. That much was obvious. She was far too open and welcoming in certain areas, while being bafflingly guarded and fearful in others. It didn't add up. Her energy seemed to be spent far too often on obsessing over things that simply did not need to matter in the long run, instead of merely enjoying what she had available. For example, a good taste in pastime activities, and a finely tuned set of pipes, if he did say so himself.

Heck, even her vulnerabilities were oddly endearing – or perhaps it was merely him imagining all the potential possibilities for corruption, should he, in a twisted sort of manner, take her under his wing. It was always those quiet ones you had to watch out for, isn't that what they'd say? Though gifted with his own unique voice, he certainly wouldn't be considered anything close to a motormouth.

Just...why? Had the modern world really evolved, or devolved in his time away, to allow for the creation of such a basket case? People used to be so easy to read. He still felt like, most of the time, he had her pinned down. She was a pure-hearted wallflower. In those instances where she surprised him, however...

...the shock of the unknown was far greater than the knowledge he already possessed.

He would never lose control. He'd been running the tables longer than she'd been alive – since before even her parents were a speck on the horizon. This was his comeback, and it was on everyone else to follow his lead. They would sway to his symphony, he would bring on the ultimate destruction; a sweet chaos that neither side could halt or prepare for. He didn't need to be in charge, but he would always come out on top.

His musings were interrupted by the opening of the bathroom door. Beth had finished her shower. Clad in a grey oversized hoodie and black leggings, she brushed past him, damp hair leaving tiny droplet trails as she stepped lightly. Tossing her laundry into the fit to burst basket, she crossed her arms over her chest, and shook her head.

She must have slept funny, or stretched weirdly when she'd gotten up today. Her sensitive back had started to throb under the running water, which meant that hauling and handling her load of dirty clothes was going to take twice as long to get through. Great. It was taking all of her willpower to hold back the nasty curses.

A turn of the stud behind her lips. She could take a muscle relaxer for the pain, but then she really would have to lie down, and leave her laundry in the hands of fate. She didn't actually think there were criminals residing in her complex, it was merely...her own hangups. Possibly, she'd just have to set it aside for yet another day. Which was a pain, seeing as she'd gotten herself ready and fired up to get it done all at once. Jeez, if only she wasn't so -

“YO! BETH!” The near battle cry was followed by an explosive pounding, suddenly breaking out against her front door. The woman in question was thrown for a loop, her spine instantly twinging from the jolt. Beside her, the small deer could only begin to speculate on what fresh hell was occurring here and now.

A new dread was settling in. Of all times, did she really pick this moment to drop in unexpectedly, like a one-woman hurricane?? Why hadn't she messaged first, at least?!

Paige, I swear...! Beth's day had just done a complete 180. And she had no idea if it was for the better or worse.

Chapter 11: Best Friends

Chapter Text

It was as if someone had slammed on the brakes, but Beth hadn't been buckled in, flying through the windshield at a million miles an hour. She was still soaring across the air, yet to touch down. Her thoughts were racing at breakneck speed, shakes coming back violently, as the pounding on her front door continued. She had to decide what to do here, and fast. A major point to consider:

Her new animal friend. And how her best human friend - the one she'd forgotten had the code to get into her apartment complex, would react to seeing him.

Paige Muramaru wasn't a bad person, by any means. Noisy, sure. Rough around the edges. A snarky artist, who had moved a lot growing up - Canada, Japan, to name a couple - before settling down to run her own graphic design business in adulthood. She came from a mixed family too, like Beth, so they shared some similar experiences in upbringing. They'd known each other for twelve years, through former mutual contacts.

But, in spite of a sharp tongue, and crude sense of humor, in regards to the people she kept in her life, Paige had one of the biggest hearts around.

How many times had she let Beth stay over, with her and her fiance, when things at the boarding houses had been going tit* up – it always happened, one way or the other. She'd taken her to every official meeting when she'd finally found her radio job, and started the process of getting off of fixed income, as well as doctors appointments. She let her play with her dogs, as a form of therapy. She'd even taken her on a couple of mini-vacations up to a family retreat, a cabin in the woods. All while lending an ear for venting, and a blunt, straightforward approach to advice, which Beth appreciated. She was clear and honest in everything she communicated; there was no room for misinterpretation.

The young woman had treated her to nice meals, when all Beth had been living off of was microwaveable and sparse, or brought her homemade courses, to stock up on for a few days. She'd offered to teach her how to cook too, more than once – Beth had just never taken her up on the lessons, because she didn't want to cause any further work for her. She'd already done so much. Beth was stubborn, feeling as though she had to learn this on her own. Unfortunately, a bit of a procrastinator as well. That was attributed to some...other issues she was still working on.

On the other side of things, however...Paige was known for sometimes, having some extreme reactions. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind, if she thought something or someone was stupid. She could also be rather chatty. Most issues that Beth had told her, she'd managed to keep in confidence. A few details though, had leaked out to folks she knew, like her fiance, or a couple people who worked for her. Mainly, it was because they'd gone through familiar experiences, so she'd thought they could commiserate together. That hadn't happened. At least she kept quiet about her career.

The major problem was this: Beth couldn't guarantee what side of Paige she was going to get here, should she introduce her new buddy. Perhaps the animal lover in her would be triggered. Or, the brashly rational side, that wouldn't back down for anything, and wasn't afraid to call anyone out, for whatever reason. It was ultimately a coin toss, and right now, Beth wasn't willing to take that risk.

Shoot! “C'mere, you!” Without hesitation, the woman had scooped up the small deer, and was scrambling for the bedroom. Placing him down both as quickly and as gently as she could upon his bed, she nearly slammed the door shut. Offering a hissed apology under her breath, in case she'd startled him, Beth was now scurrying back towards the living room, to unlock the entrance. Dang it – her spine was throbbing!

It took a few seconds to calm her trembling, before she could reply and react. “Hang on!” The locks were furiously clicking under fumbling fingers, as at long last, the door swung open. It revealed frizzy, wild dark brown hair, with matching hued eyes in a round face. A hand was on her hip with the other raised, fist clenched tight and about to strike the wooden surface once more.

Clad in a rain poncho over a black tank top, shorts, and flats, it was obvious she'd probably just woken up recently too, and thrown on the first thing within reach. Unlike Beth, Paige was far more casual in her attire. She didn't like heavy layers, and preferred to keep her wardrobe mostly colorless. Beth wasn't adverse to letting in the occasional red, pink, or blue.

“Finally. You're so slow!” Beth gave her an awkward grin, stepping aside to let her in. “I was waiting out there for like, EVER! Your neighbor was giving me the evil eye from his door – y'know, that weirdo with all the plants?” Cupping her hand around her mouth, she called out in the direction of his unit, “Get some real friends, buddy!”

At this, Beth proceeded to grab her arm, and yank her in the rest of the way. Not an easy feat, what with her current pains, as well as the fact that Paige was much stockier than her. She had a sturdy frame, and in spite of her height, wasn't easily pushed around. However, somehow Beth managed it. Before she could close the door properly though, Paige had kicked it shut with a resounding bang. The other woman winced at the sharpness of the sound on her ears.

Whatever, she'd just have to deal with it! First things first: answers. “Paige, not that I'm not happy to see you, just...why are you here?” Beth hoped that her question didn't come across too harshly.

In response, her friend huffed, rolling her eyes. “Do I need a reason to want to check in on you? You go so quiet – sometimes, I don't even know if you're still alive, unless I turn on the radio! And you know those kinds of tunes aren't really my scene!”

A light elbowing to the side then, as the brunette flashed her a grin. “Be grateful – I'm willing to offer you another head count for your audience numbers!” Beth could only reply with a sheepish, slow nod.

Looking around the living room for a couple seconds, Paige made a beeline for the couch. Beth did a quick visual scan over the cushions – thankfully, no visible blood stains. And she'd already chucked out her dirtied blankets and coat a while ago. They were currently hidden at the very bottom of her laundry bin in the bathroom.

Speaking of...

“Besides!” Paige was now sprawled out, having shed her poncho and flats, cell phone in hand as she scrolled through one of her many social media feeds. “The weather's picking up again, at LAST, and your station's been off the air for the past three days! Can you blame me for getting a little worried?”

No...no, Beth could not. Considering the state she'd used to be in just a few years ago, it was nice to know that at least one person cared, no matter how they chose to show it. After all, it wasn't like the majority, if any, of her own family bothered keeping up with her. As far as she was concerned, Paige may as well have been her sister.

Letting out a sigh, Beth began heading for the bathroom. It wasn't like she was going to be getting any rest now, so she may as well get started on what she'd originally set out to do. Since her friend had decided to stop by however, the woman briefly wondered if she was going to insist on helping out, or instead choose to occupy her space while she took care of business. It really depended on Paige's mood and energy levels. If she'd been pulling too long of an all-nighter for her art, she'd probably just want to chill.

Hauling out the stuffed bin with an awkward shuffle, Beth couldn't deny an inner sense of relief, as upon spotting her, Paige had sat up, slipping her shoes back on. “Oi, is it that time again?” Walking over, she placed her hands on either side of the tall basket, leaning in close to study her pal's face. “I got it, don't worry.” Her brow furrowed. “You look like death, no offense. What the hell, were you up all night working? Why?”

A relaxed smirk then, as she proceeded to pull the basket away from her startled companion. “I got lucky – no orders at the moment, so I just slept in.” Ah, no wonder she was peppy today. Shaking her head, Beth went to open the door once more. Looks like she was going to have some company this time.

“Uhh...up all night, yeah. But not for the reason you're thinking.” A new worry now, though: should she take a chance, and tell her about the creepy caller, who'd made her skin crawl?

Paige tilted her head, lifting the bin easily to chest level as she waddled over. Would that she could be so strong. Beth envied her a little for that. Though granted, her friend was a few years younger than her, more active, and took better care of herself too, so it was to be expected. Even with all the progress she'd made, there were still a few bad habits she had to weed out.

Casting a brief glance over her shoulder, Paige had to turn back around, nearly smacking her head on the door frame. “Oh? Well, what is it?” Closing and locking the door behind them, once she'd been sure she'd had her keys, phone, and hastily scooped up detergent plus dryer sheets in her possession, the woman scrambled to catch up with her friend. She was nearly at the elevators. Beth had to make a decision. She'd already chosen not to share about the dear deer – would she bite her tongue on this matter, too?

“Yeesh. You're really outta it today.” The doors slid open with a ding, and both of them stepped inside. “Y'know, you can always talk to me. Did'ja have another nightmare, or something?” At this, Beth shook her head.

Thinking about it...Paige was heavily active online, whereas Beth valued her privacy. She didn't interact with anybody outside of her job, unlike some of the other DJs, who were more involved with things like the station's web page, or even their own accounts. The point was, Paige too, encountered all types in her line of work, some of who were highly loyal to her brand, while others had volunteered some harsh opinions or feedback.

Perhaps...Paige would actually have some good ideas on how to deal with a potential super fan, who was attempting to cross way too many boundaries? Either that, or she might just say to suck it up. Again, another coin toss, but one Beth was more willing to gamble on. She was less likely to get in trouble here, since she hadn't started any of this – the guy had reached out to her, all just for doing her freaking job.

“...something kinda crazy happened yesterday. It relates to my work.” Paige said nothing, but was watching intently. She knew that her profession was very important to Beth, so whatever it was, must have been serious. “Somebody called me – a fan of the show. I don't know how they got my number, but - ”

Here was where Paige cut her off, as the doors were opening. “Block and move on. That's what I've done.” Figured that her answer would be something so simple, which was exactly what Beth had already taken care of.

“I did, but that's -”

Once more, she was interrupted, as they stepped out into the lowest level, heading down the short hallway to the laundry room. “Then you're good. No worries. It's probably some lonely jerk, looking to get lucky. Everybody in the entertainment business has to go through this kinda crap. It's almost like a rite of passage.”

Beth shook her head. “It's not just the call. He said...he'd been trying to reach me. For awhile. I don't actually know if he knows where I live, but...that's really scary to hear.”

Making their way through the entrance, Paige tromped towards an open washer at the end of the line. “And? He hasn't contacted you before, right?” Looking over as she dropped the basket in front of the machine, she caught sight of Beth offering her another slow shake of the head.

“Then there's nothing to worry about. With the extreme cases, they do more than just a random call outta the blue. Trust me – been there, done that.” She began pulling her thick locks back, into a bun behind her head with a small band upon her wrist. “I had a guy come at me for nudes, both online and through the phone, because he took my art as an open invitation. Stupid desperate f*ckwit.”

She let out a sigh, yanking open the small clear door. “He gave me the same spiel, too – had my address, was gonna make me pay. Big whoop. They're all talk, until you threaten them back. You don't even have to call the cops – because we all know how it'll actually get handled then – but, the jerk-*ffs don't. More often than not, they're co*cky and inexperienced. Just wave it in their faces, and they'll turn tail in a second.”

Now, she was grinning. “It also helps to have a guy like Stanley around too, throwing in his two cents.” All of this peppy talk, the casual mannerisms, the ribbing, served a major purpose. She knew that her friend had a tendency to get terribly anxious, about all sorts of things, so it was on her to offer reassurance. Not just through words, but actions and reactions, as well.

Although she could be brusque, Paige genuinely cared about the well-being of her timid friend. She needed her to know that she had her back, through thick and thin. After all, she didn't keep useless people in her life. She'd seen her come so far, from where she used to be, even if Beth wasn't quick to admit it for herself.

Said woman was standing in front of the washer, quickly loading it up on her own – like heck she needed Paige finding the stained pieces. She had to admit though, the woman had a point.

The guy had only called her once, and wasn't going to be able to do so again. He hadn't gone nearly as far as Paige's case, and since Beth barely had any social media presence at all, it wasn't like he could catch and corner her there, either. Perhaps he really had just been blowing smoke – he hadn't given any evidence as to truly knowing where she lived. He hadn't even used her whole name!

All he'd said was that he was a fan of the show, that he'd 'missed her'. So, at most, he was just a very scary, devoted listener. If credit card numbers could get slipped, then might it be the same for phones, too? And, worst case scenario, she could get a new one, to be safe. Like canceling an account.

Biting at the stud behind her lips for a couple seconds, Beth finally replied. “Yeah...maybe you're right. I mean...he isblocked now. The line even disconnected while we were talking, so...”

A slap on the shoulder, as Paige's hand clapped down. “See? That's like, the ultimate sign of the universe! Dude couldn't even keep up a steady reception! Trust me – you'll be fine. Consider it you having made it to the big leagues.” She laughed heartily, smile wide upon her face. Beth couldn't return it, but she was feeling a little lighter now.

“Alrighty then!” The washer door slammed shut. Beth got to work adding in the detergent, and with a few clicks of the knobs, plus a push of a button, the machine got to work. Dusting off her hands, Paige shot her a crafty grin. “When was the last time you had an actual meal?”

Beth could only stare back at her in silence; she had no real answer. She hadn't eaten really, since Monday. Booze and coffee didn't count as any part of the food pyramid.

Tsking, the brunette grabbed her arm, and began leading her out of the room. “Just as I thought.” Now Beth was starting to protest, but Paige wasn't having any of it. “You shush! Your stuff'll be fine! We're just gonna pop over to the noodle shop by the market, okay? Because of the weather, it shouldn't be too crowded today.”

She reached over with her other hand, to ruffle Beth's hair. “No excuses! You're coming with me, skinny girl!” Looks like she wasn't getting any note-taking done right now. It was impossible to argue with her friend when she was fired up like this. She was like a really aggressive Mama bear, at times. Matter-of-fact, but with compassion underneath it all.

The only other thing that Beth could think of, at this moment, was I hope he'll be okay upstairs by himself...well, guess the test starts now. Not how she originally planned it, but the outcome would be the same. If he could handle her being away, then she was golden in terms of Friday's shift. And hey – at least she was getting to enjoy something tasty in the process, all while having eased the stress upon her mind. Win-win.

A last silent thought then. Thanks, Paige. I owe you one.

…...

The sounds outside the room had been quiet for a while now. Both Beth, and that abrasive second voice. He'd heard the door slam, then close again more softly a few minutes later. Based off of what he'd seen so far, it was fair to say that different people had been behind the actions.

Locked inside her shady grey bedroom, the small deer could feel his teeth starting to grind, golden fangs just itching to come out. Where had that woman popped off to? She hadn't really decided to just...leave him alone, had she? Although he was smiling inside, outwards, his expression was a mask of displeasure. If only she could see him now – oh, those shakes and nerves of hers would be in overdrive!

Huh...I suppose, I do have a way to check properly, if she's really not here. This was another good opportunity as well, to see just how far he'd come in the healing process, since proper sustenance had finally been added to his care. Closing his wide eyes, the creature stilled his musings, focusing entirely on what he knew of Beth's presence. Once more, a red glow began to surround his form.

He could see it clear enough in his head: a layout of the apartment from the front, like when they'd first entered that night. Slipping like a shadow on the breeze, he passed through the doors, doing a mental scroll of the various floors, each one disappearing as a similar blur. Not a trace of energy remained, just as he'd thought. Beth was no longer on the premises. She had left him behind.

Well then. Opening his eyes and ending the spell, the being was now torn in his objectives. What else could he really do here? He wasn't healed enough to reveal his true form, even if his powers were returning nicely now. And if Beth came back and found him out and about, she might start catching on to the truth, in a less than encouraging way. Although he knew that she found a few parts...off about him, she hadn't put the pieces together. He needed her to continue trusting him, if she were to be of any use. Otherwise, it'd be better to get rid of her here and now.

Yes – killing that overly paranoid, extremely empathetic, unusually patterned, uniquely talented meat puppet. Hmm.

He could simply amuse himself, by exploring her personal, narrowed down domain, among these four walls. However, once again, it would be difficult keeping everything in order. With his current body, even using whatever powers were at his disposal, it would be far too easy to disturb things, and that wouldn't strengthen his case for support much, either. Even if right now, he wouldn't have minded one iota, about getting to hear some more tunes from that compact little radio.

Hang on...yes, he could! It would be a little tricky, especially if she came back to find it on, but at least something like that wasn't capable of making a mess. As long as he kept up his 'innocent' facade, Beth wouldn't be able to pin anything on him. She'd probably just assume it to be some sort of freak incident, or maybe even start doubting herself. That could be fun.

Oh, wait – she did that plenty enough already.

Concentrating yet again, this time the tiny creature was able to conjure up that familiar shadowy being from his figure – the one which had visited Beth how many nights ago. Carefully, he offered it a few words of command, to which it responded eagerly. Stretching and shifting across, its clawed hands made themselves at home among the knobs and dials upon the device. After about a minute of fiddling, sound finally began to filter in. Letting out a satisfied sigh, the deer called back his assistant, who vanished into the air around him, remaining traces slipping and returning to his body.

Now...what song was on the frequencies, at this moment?

“In the cool of the evening

When everything is getting kind of groovy,

I call you up and ask you

If you'd like to go with me and see a movie.”

Interesting start. The tune was slow, easing into its story and melody. Though, picture shows, as stated before, weren't really his thing.

“First you say no, you've got some plans for the night.

And then you stop, and say, alright.

Love is kinda crazy,

With a spooky little girl like you.”

Ah, there it was. It was some sort of love song, even as the singer was alluding to the supernatural, in reference to his gal's charms. Although this one wasn't quite as enrapturing as the one that Beth had sung before, he could live with it. At least it wasn't super sappy.

“You always keep me guessing,

I never seem to know what you are thinkin'.

And if a fella looks at you,

It's for sure your little eye will be a-winkin'.”

Oh...a bit of conflict, perhaps? His belle was something of a wanderer, in terms of her affections, it seemed. How was this to be dealt with?

“I get confused, 'cause I don't know where I stand.

And then you smile, and hold my hand.

Love is kinda crazy,

With a spooky little girl like you.

Spooky, yeah...”

Oh, okay. So, she was reassuring him with a touch. How simple. He didn't particularly agree with it, but hey. Romance had never been up his alley in terms of interests. It seemed to work for the lead, and the hook was still catchy. He would let it pass, for the sake of storytelling purposes. At least it wasn't too mushy. Now, there was an instrumental solo. Nice work with the saxophone.

As the beat went on, his thoughts began to wander further. A touch...just that much, was able to provide comfort? He didn't believe that. Touch was the last thing on his mind, when it came to confident assurance. In general, he absolutely eschewed anyone being in his personal space to begin with. Only he had the right, to make himself at home, in everyone else's bubbles. If it was by his choice, then nobody was allowed to keep him out.

So then, why...

...was he recalling, when Beth had held him in her arms, that night they'd met, close to her heart, as if he were the most cherished thing in her world?

“If you decide someday

To stop this little game that you are playin',

I'm gonna tell you all the things

My heart has been a-dyin' to be be saying.”

The little deer's eyes were starting to droop. Games, games...they were always so much fun, so long as he won. And he never made mistakes. When he played, he played for keeps. Just like the ones he was currently engaged in, both against his human host...and his hellish adversaries.

“Just like a ghost, you've been a-hauntin' my dreams.

So I propose, on Halloween.

Love is kinda crazy,

With a spooky little girl like you.

Spooky, spooky.

Oh oh alright,

I said spooky, oh,

Yeah yeah...”

By this point, his eyes had closed. His earlier energy for plotting had seemingly been sapped away, the music lulling him into a state of amused security. As the song finished, its last notes lingering in his head, the image of green eyes, scarred and inked skin, and long locks, swirled about like water down a drain. A soft voice gradually filtered in, as the tune finally faded out. He wondered, momentarily...did she know this song, too? Perhaps it would have been...entertaining, to hear her attempt at it?

In another couple of minutes, he was asleep.

…...

Sunlight, filtering through a pair of double windows. A faint breeze was playing with the ends of thin white curtains, as the light scent of something sweet and spicy wafted through the air. It was just another afternoon, and yet...it wasn't. It really wasn't.

“Oh, careful now! It's hot!” The voice speaking was gentle and cheery, even as she offered her warning. A soft laugh rang out, as larger hands wrapped around smaller. The ends of a wide pan, filled with fried dough pastries, were clutched tightly under a pair of dish towels, as slowly, the duo brought the tray over to a countertop. With a faint clatter, it rested upon the smooth surface, two figures offering each other tired, but happy smiles. It was impossible to tell whose was wider in that moment.

“Great job! I couldn't have done it without you!” A wipe of the brow then, brushing loose, wavy strands of brown hair away from darker, tanned skin. Deeply hued eyes stared back, their glow comforting, inviting, in a way that couldn't quite be placed. The setting was this scene, at this moment, but at the same time...it was like being on the outside looking in. Who was this woman? Was the other person meant to be him? How was any of this possible? When was this happening?

Once upon a time, in another world, another space. A realm that was both familiar, and yet not. A place that hadn't been in how long, even when he'd been borne of mortal flesh. It was a fleeting memory, fuzzy and faded around the edges, like an old photograph. One of those moving pictures on the screen, improperly cared for, be it due to ignorance, or intentional neglect. Perhaps he'd wanted to forget?

The food waiting to be consumed...beignets. They were beignets. Vaguely, he could recall, that sweets had never been his forte. However, these he was at least willing to tolerate; he was aware of a specific detail here, that these ones were made with cinnamon. Thus, unlike the usual flavors, it had a hint of spice to its sugary nature. And he'd always been a fan of things with kick. So, he was fine with making an exception here.

Besides...she liked them. That was enough for him, to give them a pass. This unknown, yet reminiscent figure, teetering in the doorway to the darkest corners of his mind – welcoming, and yet, unwelcome. She wasn't meant to be a part of his current world. She didn't belong here, this motherly paper doll.

“They should be cool soon enough. Then, I'll make us some drinks, and we can enjoy them together. Sound good?” He felt the nod, even with the lack of hunger to his system. Felt the warmth in his cheeks, the grin to his features, as he'd regarded this being with the utmost awe and devotion. Her voice was like wind chimes; her aura was enveloping, without being overwhelming.

Then, the flash of shadow, as her tones lowered. “We just...have to make sure we finish them, before he gets back. You know how he is...about this sort of thing.” She turned on her heel, slowly, making her way towards the fridge and cabinets. A kitchen. They were in a kitchen.

The pang in his chest. Who was 'he'? Why had the joy to this speaker's entire persona just seemed to...wilt and wither away, with those two sentences? For whatever reason, he could feel both a surge of fear...and anger, course through him.

And yet, at the same time...he seemed ever so very small. Far smaller than he could ever recall, in his entire life.

He hated it.

“Alright, let's try them!” There it was, suddenly; as if a switch had been flipped. She was back to her bubbly self once again, having returned with two cups full of beverage – one coffee, and one cafe au lait. She added the milk to soften the caffeine kick, and make it richer. It was a special treat, not served often. Placing them down carefully, she reached out, picking up one of the squares in a delicate grasp. Taking a corner between slender digits, she began to pull, breaking off a piece, and passing it over.

“Here – you first.” Such tenderness to her voice as she regarded him, and in her touch, as her hand brushed against his own, passing over the morsel. He, who had never asked for such consideration in actions or tone in his life. He accepted the food, bringing it to his mouth for a taste.

Just as he was about to bite down, however...the heavy slam of a door, violent and vulgar in its echoing impact.

That was where the dream ended.

Chapter 12: Every Breath You Take

Chapter Text

Just as she'd stated, the restaurant had been pretty empty. By the time Beth and Paige had made it back to the apartment, after about an hour or so, the laundry was done, and thankfully untouched. Beth had been quite relieved at this, something which Paige had gotten a kick out of.

“Your complex is mainly full of senile old farts. Unless any of them suddenly regained enough sanity to care about who wears what, you're good. No pervs here.” Beth had to hold back her snort of amusem*nt at that – she felt bad. The majority of the residents she'd run into, while indeed older than her, were nice. They mostly kept to themselves, but on occasion would offer her a wave, or a greeting. Even the guy with the plants. It was Paige's delivery of the lines that was funny, not the content itself.

After unloading the washer and transferring everything to a dryer instead, the pair had gone back upstairs, at Paige's urging. She'd wanted to check out Beth's fridge and freezer, to take stock of what she had on hand. Upon seeing the contents, she'd proceeded to immediately plan a new trip out, for Thursday. In her words, “You don't have'ta live like a refugee!” Briefly, Beth had recalled a tune with the same line, from yet another musician gone before their time. Rest in peace.

“I still need to finish getting my notes for Friday's show together. I don't know how long that's going to take. Are you sure we'll be back in time?” Beth still hadn't found any good topics, especially with everything which had happened the day before. Now, she didn't need to fixate on that anymore, but one set of worries had been replaced with another. She hadn't had such a long period out of the studio in quite a while; Beth hadn't even ever taken a vacation with her saved up days.

Her pal had waved her concerns away, promising that she'd get her back before it got too late. Beth could only hope she'd keep her promise – sometimes, errands got tacked onto their trips out, extending them by a few hours. She remembered what the woman had said, that her business had been slow recently, so hopefully that wouldn't change by tomorrow.

As soon as Paige had seated herself on the couch again, Beth had made her way back to her bedroom, carefully opening the door just a crack...

...and was immediately greeted by the tones of 'California Dreaming' by the Mamas and the Papas. Her little companion was awake in the corner, glancing over briefly as she stepped inside. He seemed a bit out of it; had he just woken up, perhaps? Apart from the music, everything was peaceful; there was no way he could have possibly turned the device on.

So...what had happened here?

Please, don't tell me this place is haunted. Maybe there was some sort of...I don't know, mini earthquake or something while I was away? And it jimmied the system. Who knows. I just hope it's not glitching. If her radio broke...she would be heartbroken. Even if she could replace it, that wouldn't change all the memories she'd built up in her time of owning it. If it had to go, at some point, she'd rather have it do so by being out of date, not falling apart.

Once she'd finished doing a quick sweep of her personal space, making certain that her belongings were still in place, she'd returned to the parlor. For the next hour, Beth had hung out there, Paige doing most of the talking, as usual. About subjects like a new bar she'd been to on its grand opening - “Not worth the money, honestly” - a small convention where she'd rented a table, to make extra money - “We made a decent profit, a couple thousand”, as well as visiting the local animal shelter - “I swear, SO many cutie-pies! I almost wound up taking home a pair of siblings, and a cat!”

She'd been helping out her fiance as well, taking up a couple shifts at his local electronics and hobby shop. He was big into technology, in particular video games, and after saving up some money from various odd jobs over the last few years, had actually been able to set up a space. A lot of the stuff he sold was old and niche, not just the brand new titles and systems. He did lots of trade-ins, while also dabbling in tabletop gaming and comics, which had its own draw. Their city was made up of all types; if you build it, they will come.

So, the time had passed, and eventually, they'd headed back downstairs, to collect the clothes. A little while after Beth finished checking through the load, making sure that all her garments were present, Paige had departed, promising to text her the next day. As soon as her friend had left, Beth had let out a deep exhale. Now that she was basically alone, any remaining energy had dissipated from her body, leaving her utterly drained.

Well...at least I've washed up. I can take a pill for my back, and settle down for a little bit. I'll sort out my things later.Satisfied with her choice of actions, Beth turned towards the room. After a few minutes of tinkering around, she was finally lying down flat upon her bed, allowing the medication to kick in. Closing her eyes, her breathing began to ease. Her arms lay at her sides, while her head was tilted at a slight lowered angle, to her right.

As for her silent creature companion...

His brow was creased for a second; his thoughts were drifting back, to a couple hours before. When he'd been at the mercy of uninterrupted slumber...and dancing specters from another lifetime. Even after waking up with a start, the images had continued to linger on.

He didn't usually dream to begin with. And, if or when he did, he was able to determine he was doing as such, and quickly take control. He supposed there must have been a term for the phenomena, but at this moment, identifying it was not at the forefront of his interests. No, what he was concerned over, was why such visions were seeking his attention in the first place.

Most beings in his situation, couldn't remember much, if anything of their pasts. That was fine with them, though – they were long gone from the mortal veil, eking out a new life in the fiery pits and circles below. He too, hadn't cared much for reminiscing...though his recollections had, interestingly enough, been a bit stronger than others. He supposed that, at times, the flashbacks could be...tolerable, depending on their content. Things like prior takedowns, or his former job occupation, which he'd had to make adjustments to, upon crossing over.

For his entire checkered history, he'd gained far more power and resources. He was still capable of instilling the shock and awe in his 'audiences', but on a much greater and grander scale than ever before. And, even upon his exit, he'd been able to leave a memorable mark, both on the realm itself...as well as he who was meant to command it all.

Thankfully, Beth wasn't paying any mind to her little friend. His lips had tugged upward, revealing those fearsome golden fangs yet again, his crimson eyes flashing with delight...before it was replaced, once more, with bitter confusion.

This memory he'd been privy to, upon his crossing into slumber...was not a welcomed one. Nay, it was from a period he'd thoroughly squashed down and cut out, to the point where sometimes, it was all too easy to forget that he'd ever been anything other than what he'd left this world as, and reformed into in the Hell-scape. He could forget the weakness, that there had ever been a scrap of 'humanity' to his presence. He'd never have to acknowledge any sort of fear, any kind of connection, relation, sentimentality.

And yet...it was present, if only fleetingly, throughout the entirety of that sweet nightmare. That's what it may as well have been, what with his level of displeasure at having witnessed it to begin with. Haunting sights and sounds, even scents.

Also...a face, buried under the layers of marching time and new experiences. One he hadn't seen since his first life, far before it had reached its conclusion. A being he'd almost been able to pretend had never existed; had never held any sort of sway over him.

It wasn't out of any sort of true dislike, though it should have been. No, the reasoning here...was something he refused to acknowledge; was resolute in burying once more, where it would never see the light of day. That time was long gone, never to return. He hadn't been that person in an eternity, and had no plans to ever go back. His new place, his new standing and rank, was all he would ever need. Just himself, and what he was capable of.

So then, why...why had he seen such a thing, when he'd closed his eyes?

His stare traveled around the room lazily, before finally landing on the reclining figure upon the bed. At this, his gaze narrowed.

Beth. She was the most recent addition to his sphere of influence. Could it possibly be...because of her? He grit his teeth, behind closed lips. This thought...bothered him. Why would being around someone like her, have the ability to trigger such a reaction inside of him? How did that make any sense?

It wasn't as though she bore any powers of her own. And, as far as her persona went, while she was a tad frustrating and vexing at times – quite often, actually – ultimately, she was a harmless diversion. She bore hints of capability; traits that could be used to his advantage, in the future. Just so long as he could figure her out first. Before the magic of the chase wore off. After all, what was the point of a hunt, if the prey in question failed to satisfy?

This had to be it. It was the only thing he could think of that made sense – being in this strange situation, far different than anything he'd had to experience, in how many years now. Heck, even in his past life, circ*mstances like these would have been unnatural! Nothing about this was normal, and he was saying this as one of the furthest things from the word!

Still...if this was the case, then why? What was it about her presence that had tripped the switch, pulled the lever, as it were? It wasn't as though he'd ever even known anyone like her before. For better or worse, she was one-of-a-kind. Sometimes, he could read her like a book, while at others, he was shut out completely.

At the same time, though...the level of compassion he'd witnessed in his 'dream'. It must have been stirred, by something or other that he'd experienced in the waking world. If so, what? His train of thoughts were leading him back to his kooky new roommate; maybe it wasn't just her, but something she'd done, that had set it off? Something that had affected him on a deeper level?

His mind traveled back, back, over the course of the last few days that they'd spent together. From her bringing him home, and tending to his wound, to her singing, the store trip, her introducing herself, and the vision he'd unleashed upon her. Even the time shared while she'd worked, in quiet contemplation. A pair of lines flashed through his mental hearing then.

“I don't want you to die!”

“D-Don't...touch him! I don't care...what you do to me...but leave him alone!”

His eyes widened slightly. Again, those two instances, where she'd let loose, allowing her foolish human heart to speak fully for her. Could it be, that those words...were at the root of all this?

The possibility...did not bode well.

No. It had to be something simpler. Now she was rubbing off on him! Trying to get him to worry about that which was minor. It could all be explained away as a change in scenery, and uprooting of routine. Even possibly, that silly song which had graced his hearing before he'd nodded off.

Granted, he still wasn't happy about the form this disturbance had chosen to manifest itself in, but fine. The more he healed, the stronger he became. And, the more likely it was, that this incident would fade away into the background as nothing more than a little slip, brought on by a slow recovery in unfamiliar form.

Yes...that sounded logical. It was a fitting answer to his current query. He wouldn't dwell on it any longer. He wasn't going to give that pesky vision any more fuel or attention. He could move on in peace.

With that settled, he proceeded to lower his head once again. He most likely wasn't going back to sleep, but he could at least rest easier now. His thoughts were no longer filled with nonsense, instead choosing to focus on wondering, as to just who had been the owner of that abrasive voice earlier, and where Beth could have disappeared to for so long, leaving him unattended. Hopefully, it wouldn't happen again, but if it did...

His gaze drifted over, back to the silent radio on the shelf. A glint in his eyes. At least he wouldn't be bored. Really – music had come quite the ways in how many decades away. He hadn't bothered to immerse himself in it on the other side, preferring instead to keep his own familiar tunes on hand, for his personal entertainment. Being what he was, he'd no longer even needed a device to bring them forth.

But. That was neither here nor there. The point was, he'd be more than able to gratify himself, should he be left to his own devices again. Although, for just a fleeting second...he had to admit, it was rather...empty, listening to the songs without a potential interjection from his human pet.

A couple seconds of muted musings. Then, the rapid shake of his head.

No, no no! He was just fine on his own! He didn't need her to hold his hand, and guide him through the modern age of airwaves! He didn't need her, other than what she could do to be of useful service to him. But that was as far as it went. If anything, he was the mentor to her stumbling fledgling self. Not that he would necessarily label himself as such, but...it wasn't that bad of a title. Like he'd said before, it was just a matter of molding her into what was required.

Issue finally resolved, he closed his eyes, but with one ear co*cked, waiting for the sound of any future stirring. He was really looking forward to his next meal.

…...

It was time. The moment had finally arrived.

He stood there in his grungy bedroom, clad in jeans and nothing else. Surrounded by destruction, his breathing was heavy as the sweat ran down his skin. A standing fan laid toppled in the corner, its front grate separated and caved in a few feet away. The wallpaper was torn and slashed, as were the blinds and curtains upon his windows. His bed was a tangled mess of stained sheets and tattered blankets. The floor was littered with books, papers, booze bottles, and dishes, among other various objects, most of which were worse for the wear.

Against the farthest wall, a desk with various important items upon its surface: a large monitor, connected to the grubby, worn keyboard, and mouse with frayed cord. Somehow, it all still worked – the outside wasn't the greatest, but he made sure to keep the insides properly tuned on a regular basis. Aside from his occasional ventures beyond the house, including work, it was one of the only connections he had to the rest of the world.

The next irreplaceable tool...was his silver and black boom box, neatly tucked into the corner. As soon as he'd discovered her, he'd gone through the trouble of tracking it down online, personally ordering it to adorn his space with its charm and warmth. Without her, there was no life to be found in his domain. Thus, for the last near week, things had only gone from bad to worse.

The last...was yet to be revealed.

Aside from those pieces of technology, past that point, the rest of the house...wasn't faring much better then his personal hovel. The living room was a warzone, the TV not having worked for months now – first because of bad reception, and then a smashed screen, when a heavy-booted foot had collided with it. The throw rugs were filthy, while the tile floors were cracked and scuffed from all manner of dragging, scraping, and general mistreatment.

In his bathroom, the tub was dingy, not having been scrubbed in how many years. Same with the toilet, which would get jammed frequently. The plunger beside the bowl had definitely seen better days. The sink was more of the same. There was one bar of soap, and a stack of empty toilet paper rolls, plus one shredded towel on the back of the door.

Meanwhile, the kitchen was piled high with more dishes, majority unwashed and chipped, in some way or another, while the food was a mix of rotting food stuffs and stale leftovers. His fridge and microwave barely worked, and this only served to stoke his ire, at the thought of either having to do repairs on his own, or pay for someone to come in. That would require the extra task of clean up, at least enough to forge a proper path to said devices, which wasn't okay with him at this point in time. He had bigger things to worry about than cleaning, be it his surroundings, or himself.

Like, at long last, bringing a certain fair maiden home where she belonged: in his arms, forever. Until death did them part. That's how the vows went, right?

It wasn't his fault that the place was in such disarray! Dishes were such a chore to do – it was why, most of the time, he simply bought food, either instant or fast. He had better things to do than managing silverware, when it wasn't as though he was even entertaining anyone other than himself on a regular basis. Same with the bathroom – it didn't matter if you cleaned regularly or not, it would just get dirty again. So, he'd make the best of it, and clear off whatever space he actually bothered using. The rest of it was none of his concern. If only the stupid sewage would stop backing up on him!

On top of that, life in general, was just so hard! It was as if, no matter where he went, the odds were always stacked against him. The last good thing that had happened, was when his Mother had died, leaving him this house, along with a few other belongings. She had been ultimately useless in her last few years, always asking him for favors, when he'd really had much better things to be doing.

She'd used to cater to his every whim, even defying her husband to pamper him, until he'd chosen to leave, the louse. Never wanting to spend any of his money on him, whether it was for candy or toys. Only on booze, or smokes.He was never good enough, in his eyes.

The woman had gotten him through school, somehow. He hadn't wanted to do it, but whatever. If it shut her up, then fine. Besides, it was a good chance to meet some pretty faces, grab a few numbers. Perhaps his chances would be better, now that everyone was more mature, and hopefully past the high school clique mentality. Spoiler: it was more of the same. And he'd just barely managed to pass the classes, too.

Then, she got older. Suddenly, it was “Can you help me with this?” and “Oh, I need you to do that”. God, so annoying! He'd much rather have been sleeping, or trying to impress the ladies at his latest job, or the bar, or even just searching the internet for...entertainment. But no, he had to worry about things like groceries, and medication, doctor's visits. She hadn't gotten better anyway, so what was the point?

It had been her sister who had organized the funeral, shooting him nasty looks the whole time through. As if it was his fault she'd gone and croaked. She'd also pitched quite the fit upon the reading of the will, but nothing had been contested. Good. She'd always been such an uppity bitch, never showing him any affection or respect while he'd been growing up. Every time she'd come over to visit, she'd done nothing but scold him. If his Mom hadn't been there to back him up, he'd probably have clocked her one.

But whatever. It was all in the past. He hadn't seen her in who knew how long now. Maybe she'd died, too. Good. It would serve her right. His interests were far beyond what any boring, normal person could ever comprehend. They were destined for failure, never knowing the truth of what true, honest love could do for a soul. And that's what he had her, with his precious Beth.

It was time.

After the phone call had dropped, and he'd had his fit, he'd calmed down and self-soothed, falling into a deep manic high. He'd listened to his favorite compiled playlist of all the songs Beth had played before and commented on, while looking at one of his most prized, treasured possessions: a photo he'd taken of her, one night, as she'd been leaving the station.

He'd had to hurry and zoom in, so the image was slightly blurry, but it was good enough. His beloved, captured for eternity in the files of his phone. He'd saved the picture to his computer as well, but mostly looked at the original on his cell. He could take it with him wherever he went, to be reminded of her purity and beauty when things got rough.

Her hair was flowing freely, and her stare was a bit distracted, as she'd been focusing on the direction of the bus stop. The outfit she'd been wearing was one of his favorites, thanks to this photo: a pink sleeveless dress with white trim, reaching her knees, plus another black, long-sleeved turtleneck. It was tied together with a matching hooded vest, tights, fingerless gloves, and her boots. She was an absolute angel, mixing classy demure with vibrant temptress.

That night...had gotten better, just by being able to see her face, and recall her voice, however fleetingly it had rang in his ears. No matter if she hadn't understood his intentions, his devotion, his utmost adoration of her and everything she was. He'd make her see, just wait. They were made to love each other!

With every touch, the thought of her touch, her body, passionately intertwined with his own...her voice, calling, pleading for him, instead of questioning in hesitation. He'd change her tune, he just knew it! He was a nice guy, and only deserved the best. This was her, in all her glory. Pristine, heavenly Beth. The absolute epitome of perfection.

Tomorrow. The weather was finally clearing, which meant that the station should have been coming back on-air soon. But, it wasn't good enough for him. No – he wanted her, needed her, now. So, at long last, he was taking matters into his own hands.

No more fantasies and long nights. No more crying over the radio and fumbling calls. When she came back to her job, for the last time, it would be as a bride. There was no way this could fail! He'd been waiting, so very long, patiently, a devout follower. And she was the holy deity he worshipped. She would finally see him, his efforts, and choose him, out of everyone and everything else in this godforsaken world. He just knew it! All he had to do, was find a way into the apartment. Then, she'd be all his.

He even had the ring picked out, had been holding onto it for ages. It had belonged to his Mom, but of course, she couldn't use it anymore. It would look so much better anyway, upon his Bethy's finger. Showing all the universe, just who she belonged to.

Yes...yes, it was flawless. It was foolproof. She couldn't possibly refuse him. All those others before her, they'd meant nothing at all to him! She was the ultimate goal, what he'd been working towards. The others were all just cheap practice runs. A waste of time and energy. But not her. Never her. No, she could never hurt him. Would never betray him. She was beautiful and kind. She was everything to him, and after tomorrow night, he would be all that she saw, too.

Since she worked late, she was most likely a night owl. So, he didn't need to go to her place super early. Besides, some nosy person or other might be awake and about during the day. He didn't want to be interrupted from his task. First, he'd confess, then she'd say yes. And then...all the good stuff. What he'd been dreaming of for so very long now.

That little voice suddenly, in the back of his mind: and what if she says no?

Smash. A fist colliding with plaster, leaving a noticeable crater in its wake. He was breathing hard, panting like a wild animal in pursuit. No. That could not be allowed to happen. It wouldn't. Never! His Beth would never betray him like that! She was his, and his alone. She just didn't know it yet.

But, if she even thought about turning him down, for just a second...

His other hand reached down, to slip into a baggy pocket. He'd make sure she regretted it. Nobody played him for a fool and got away with it. Not anymore.

Tomorrow...tomorrow, it would all come full circle. Just like the little ring in the box, sitting atop his desk, beside the silent boom box and computer. Beth wouldn't know what hit her.

In more ways than one.

Chapter 13: Who Can It Be Now

Chapter Text

Thursday morning rolled into town, decidedly clearer and tamed from the last few days. The rain had all but stopped, even as the skies held onto their murky shades of grey. This corner of the world that had been swimming in the torrential downpour was now, at long last, able to breathe.

Beth's day had started earlier than the last: waking up an hour before her usual time, and actually performing her regular routine: thirty sit-ups, thirty push-ups, and thirty squats. Not the most extensive run, but it fit her setup. Of course, she'd been winded and lightheaded by the end of it. Missing a few days in a row, plus working out before a meal, tended to cause such a reaction.

She had to admit though, it was a bit awkward, doing her exercises in front of an audience of one. Though she couldn't focus on him constantly, unless she wanted to lose track of where she was in her stretches and the like. But, she couldn't help feeling as if she were being scrutinized.

Paige arrived for their shopping trip around twelve p.m. By then, Beth had been clad in her usual layers, reusable bag ready for any manner of smaller items, while her pal had provided the heavier boxes and transport, via her van. They'd finished traveling and purchases by two p.m, having gone to a couple different stores. One warehouse, and a market. Again, Paige insisted on treating for food, this time picking out an Italian place, as opposed to ramen. Upon her arrival back at the apartment, it was a bit after three p.m.

From there, she'd sorted out her groceries, packing away whatever she could keep, while Paige took the rest, to hold onto until she ran out. Then, she'd swing by for a refill. Once she'd departed, Beth had immediately gone to check in on her four-legged friend.

There was no music waiting for her as she opened the door. Her companion was curled up in the corner, with nothing appearing out of place. His expression was a mask of animalistic indifference. In other words, he seemed fine.

Beth had proceeded then, to collapse upon her bed, stretching out and supporting her spine. She was doing her best to improve her posture on her own, but it wasn't easy.

Back in the day, before her job, she'd been able to attend a few physical therapy sessions, at arrangement by her physician. However, once her life had picked up, she'd had to drop them, seeing as she no longer had the available time or energy. Though, she'd done her best to keep what she'd learned from the visits in mind, hence why she had set up the morning workouts in the first place. It wasn't just to try and stay in shape.

Watching the woman reclining upon the full comforter and sheets, the small creature lying on the floor could feel the expression upon his features twitch slightly, even as inwardly, he was grinning. Goodness, today had been something! Whether it was positive or negative was as yet to be determined. Perhaps in-between; a mix of informative and troublesome?

Things hadn't been so bad in the morning. He'd gotten enough rest, and had been fed shortly after awakening. He'd mildly enjoyed watching the silly female doing her best to pull herself together with all those awkward poses, holding back his laughter a few times when she'd nearly lost her balance. Was she dizzy, or just poorly coordinated? He didn't know, but either way, it was funny.

She'd started preparing in the bathroom shortly thereafter, changing her attire and generally tidying up, before prepping a meager meal. She'd grabbed a small purse and tote bag, before pulling on her shoes, and checking her 'smartphone'. A few times, the device had gone off with a little chime, and she'd responded by tapping at the screen rapidly, as though she were typing.

Then...the noisemaker had arrived. Just as the door had been closing behind her, he'd gotten the briefest glimpse of a shorter female figure, who looked as though she'd just blown into town like a tumbleweed. Her face was split into a wide smile, but although he usually encouraged the gesture, here it merely irked him. He recognized the sounds coming from her – she'd been the one here the day before. The one who'd stolen away the attentions of his human pet, causing her to leave him behind.

It was obvious, that Beth was doing everything possible, to hide him. He could have ended it all, right then and there, ruining her ploy. He didn't know why she was so desperate to keep his existence a secret, and quite frankly, he didn't appreciate it.

On the other hand, though...it wasn't as if he were particularly interested in interacting with this abrasive seeming being. Not when he was in such a compromised position, anyway. When he couldn't do anything to shut them up. Perhaps when he was feeling better, then he could make a proper appearance. Or, when Beth simply changed her mind about having him around.

Fine, he'd accept being alone again...this time. It wasn't as though he were a social butterfly to begin with. But hopefully, this pest wouldn't stick her nose back into things anytime soon. They could function just fine on their own, thank you very much.

Once Beth had left, his dark assistant had been summoned, and the radio had gone on. Out of everything she had physically, it was the only thing that he'd taken any sort of shine to. After all, the device was so intrinsically tied into his being, past and present. It also helped, that the thing was so reminiscent in appearance, of a time long gone before.

While his shadow had made faces in response to the different ads, he'd allowed his eyes to drift about the room, waiting for the current commercial break to end. They'd landed on the various odds and ends.

The bright posters adorning her walls. The thick books on her shelves. The stuffed toys buried among her pillows – how old was she anyway, to be keeping such things on hand? The computer on her desk, closed from not being in use. The closet and dresser, both sealed off as well, the latter featuring a handful of bottles and trinkets scattered atop its surface. The many, many, many empty boxes, along with the plastic bins, stacked atop one another, containing who knew what.

Eventually, the music had returned. It began with the tune of a voyage starting from the San Francisco bay, leading into a grand adventure. The next melody had been one about leaving somebody in fifty different ways. Really? You needed that many for such a simple action? Just say your goodbyes, and split! If they were clingy, well...he could have offered quite a few handy ways to cut them off, potentially in a literal sense. Heh, if anyone were asking. Following that, was a song about 'the year of the cat'. Huh, sounded like something out of a picture show. How silly.

A few more songs had followed, and he'd listened with varying levels of interest. One about a 'long, cool woman' in a black dress. Was she attending a funeral? Didn't sound like it. Another about two people on a trip in a van, with a dog named Boo. Ugh, moving on.

Another commercial break. How bothersome! Why couldn't the music just stay constant? Had there been this many advertisem*nts in his era? He couldn't recall. This was ridiculous, though! He listened to the radio to be entertained, not to hear about things like 'getting out of time-share', and 'toenail fungus'! He had nothing else to do here – what, was he going to dig through Beth's belongings, or raid her fridge for more food?

In frustration, and to keep his shadow from laughing at his displeasure, he forced it to change the knobs, in the direction he'd thought Beth had gone, the first time they'd listened. It spun and clicked, until finally picking up on a new melody. Settling in, he'd waited to hear the first lyrics ring out. The tune was upbeat, though not aggressive. Not quite something to dance to.

“Softest touch, and sweetest flavor,

You were forceful, I gave favor.

They all said that I would pay,

While all I hoped was that you'd stay.”

His eyes had lit up. Hmm, interesting start. Another song about a contrasting pair, perhaps? That seemed to be a popular theme. Did opposites actually attract? Or were they merely the best combination for mutually assured destruction? Inquiring minds were just dying to know.

“You were stronger, you were sprung,

I had lost, while you had won.

Copper taste upon my tongue,

Such a fool when I was young.”

Oh...well, then. The only thing he could attribute to such a comparison, was human lifeforce. And he said that as someone who'd experienced quite a fair bit of it shed. Most people were not fond of seeing the substance. He supposed, it was an acquired taste? How unusual, for it to make an appearance, in something seemingly describing a romantic fling! Was this another song in the vein of the first they'd listened to together?

“Then time passed, I grew wise,

A few in years, and open eyes.

My youth stolen, virtue lost,

Flowers picked, caution tossed.”

That part left nothing to the imagination. Something seemed to have taken place here, between the infatuation of the start, and the realization of now. As though somebody had been lulled into a false sense of security, by fake promises. Then, the trap had been triggered. Was it on both sides, or only one? It was always nice, to see a pair get sucked down, as opposed to just a single mark. The more the merrier, as they'd say! He was never one to complain about numbers.

“Bound by honor, wrapped in verses,

Vows exchanged, to bitter curses.

Full of life, his cries anew,

Life was good, without you.”

His shadow was listening intently, head swaying to the rhythm as the words passed it over harmlessly. It had no stake in the story here. Its master, on the other hand...he'd been following in much the same vein, until this instant. There had just been an inner shift. Suddenly, filtering through like blood in the water, an image was starting to form in his mind's eye. And what it offered...was not pretty. Something pure, that had been corrupted.

Usually, these sorts of ideas were just fine with him. It wasn't as though he'd never served as a tempter before. His whole business was set up on the prospect of luring others. He got them to basically throw their souls away for a temporary pleasure, and taint themselves for eternity. Beyond just what they were already condemned to.

However, something about this tune...was striking a chord in him, no pun intended, that he didn't quite care for. And the longer it played, the clearer the picture became. That face, which had graced his vision the night before. That buried recollection. Why was it being called forth here and now?

“Mother and child, spirit and heart,

That book of faith, to drive us apart.

A hand offensive, always raised,

Sweetness whispered, early grave.”

More and more, the specter was gaining form and substance. He could practically smell the cinnamon, hear her laugh above him, and then the angry slam, as the song finally tapered off.

“He was stronger, he was young,

I made sure, my only son.

You were ended, foolish one,

Now his tale has just begun.”

By this point, he'd been ready to turn the radio off entirely, and enjoy the silence. Anything, to stop that haunting feminine vision that was practically racing towards him, arms wide open. The last notes of the tune faded away, replaced with a driving, pounding arrangement instead. But the lyrics continued to linger in his head. Even as he'd curled up tightly upon the towels and cushions, gaze darting about the room, willing himself to stay awake.

And here he was now. The dial had been returned to its original station, at some point. Somehow, he'd kept it together, until he'd heard the door click outside, and the arriving voices. With another flick, the radio had gone off, his shadow being recalled. It had been happily swaying to a melody about dancing in the moonlight. A nicer thought, certainly, than the poppyco*ck he'd suffered through this afternoon! He'd waited, for the noises outside to die down, and Beth's softer footsteps to make their way through the short hall.

Today had been both productive, and maddening. The music, in this new day and age...he'd had quite enough of it, for today. If only he could have just brought out his own tunes, or controlled more of what was played! Perhaps once he'd been restored to his true form. Then, he wouldn't have to deal with nonsense like this! For now, he would leave the navigating of these airwaves to this meat puppet instead. She could do the vetting and heavy lifting.

And perhaps, who knew? Once back in the swing of things, he could teach her a thing or two about quality, on his end. She was open-minded, so it seemed pretty likely she'd be able to find a few new – or old? - favorites of her own. Then hopefully, an experience like this would never have to happen again. He could look back on it and laugh, as he went about the usual grind. With her soul to do as he wished with.

Thus, the mess of an afternoon gradually gave way to evening.

…...

Here he was, at long last. The apartment complex stood towering before his lone, eager form once more. He strode towards it with what he hoped was confidence – though, from an outside view, it was more of a shady skulk.

The night sky was fully extended above, the sun having set a good few hours ago. As the stars twinkled, he made his way nearer, eyes darting to and fro for any sign of the guard. There was none. From what he could see through the glass door, they weren't at their booth. And if they were in their car, they must have parked it a bit further away this time – it wasn't in any of the nearby stalls. Unless, they'd left the property entirely, for some reason...?

Now, the big question: how to get inside?

As he pondered this, a sudden motion in front caught his eye. An older male was stumbling from inside, towards the exit. Instantly, he saw his chance. Drawing nearer, he noted that the man was obviously drunken in his movements, holding a cigarette box and lighter in his hands. Opening the door with a fumble, it nearly closed on him again -

“Oh, here you go!” Had the stranger not stepped forth to hold it open. Mumbling out a “Thanks”, he passed by, not taking any further notice. With the door wide open, so inviting, he slipped through.

The main area was wide, the lights a bit dimmed. It was after ten p.m. The walls were set stone pieces, the floor brick blocks. There was a spot to lounge, with a couple of chairs and a table. A gate leading to something or other – ah, a pool – was beyond that, to the right, where the wall was lined with unit mailboxes. They led all the way down to the trio of elevators on his left.

Pushing the up button, he waited in anticipation...to come face-to-face with his destiny.

…...

Beth had just stepped out of the shower, settling into her room for the evening with a glass of water on the dresser, when she'd become aware of the knock at her door. At first, she thought she'd been hearing things; sound was sometimes janky in this complex. They seemed closer than they actually were. How many times had she gone out to check, only to find that there was nobody around? Unless it were someone like Paige, who pounded loud enough to wake the dead, it was impossible to tell.

Still, even as she let out a sigh, the woman stood up, to stick her head out. A few seconds of silence, then...

Knock. Knock, knock, knock, knock. Okay, it was much clearer now. Either someone was at her door, or the neighbor in the nearest vicinity. Since that was the elderly man with the plants, who never had any visitors, it could only be her that was receiving some unexpected company. Maybe Paige had come back for something, but for once, was actually minding her manners and surroundings? Tentatively, she picked up her phone from the charger, and slipped it into her pocket.

Meanwhile, back in the bedroom, through the slightly ajar entrance, the small deer was looking towards the exit from his seat on the floor. His face betrayed not a trace of emotion, though he had to admit, a minor interest, if only out of discontent. What now, at such a late hour? Did this female happen to have yet another pesky acquaintance, who didn't understand the meaning of personal space? She wasn't about to go galavanting off again, was she?

With bated breath, Beth made her way into the parlor, and then towards the door. Flicking on the lights, she looked through the peephole.

There was nobody there.

Huh...? But, I could have sworn... A few seconds of quiet. Stepping away, she was about to turn off the switch, when suddenly, another round of knocking. This time, she was a tad annoyed. Was somebody else messing with her? Paige wasn't the pranking type. Another couple seconds, then three more raps followed.

It was stupid horror movie logic she was about to employ here. At the same time, she was in an apartment. It wasn't as though nobody could hear anything, if she really raised her voice. Somebody would have to come running, eventually. And before all that, if anyone did try anything on her, she had her cell right there. She could slam the heavy barrier in their face, and call the cops. So, taking a deep inhale, she undid the locks, and turned the knob.

What she saw...

A taller male, with stringy, greasy black hair, and dark eyes, with a hint of stubble and acne, plus pockmarks. He was slightly heavyset, clad in a brown coat, grey shirt, and blue jeans with sneakers. There was a slight scent in the air, that she had to admit she wasn't fond of.

“A-Are you Beth?” The guy was staring at her intently, eyes wide. Her brow furrowed slightly behind her damp locks. She didn't recognize him. How did he know her name? And why, why...did he sound so familiar?

After a few more seconds of silence, she found her words. “Yes...can I help you?” Vaguely, she recalled that one of the other units down the hall had been repaired recently – the last tenant had moved, and someone she hadn't seen had come in shortly before the storm. Perhaps...this was them, out and about for some reason? Though again, how they'd learned her name, she had no clue, much less why they were seeking her at this hour.

Upon hearing the answer, his face broke into a beaming smile. This didn't serve to reassure her. If anything...her nerves were getting worse. He was looking at her like...well, she couldn't really describe it. The words that were coming to mind, were ones she wanted absolutely nothing to do with. This expression...hit far too close to home for her, in a way she had fought to banish for years.

The warning bells were going off, though still, she stood against the doorframe. What wasn't visible however, was her hand slipping down, to reach into her pocket for her phone.

“Finally...I finally found you...I'm finally here...!” That was when it hit her, like a freight train; where she'd heard this voice before. Instantly, she was pulling out her cell, making a motion to shut the door tight.

“No!” That same piercing, demanding cry. Like the shrillest siren. Unfortunately, he was faster. Slamming his weight into it, he was able to knock her back, sending her stumbling as he made his way through. The device flew from her hand, skidding towards the couch. With a couple of clicks, she could see it was closed, and most likely locked. She was officially trapped.

Trapped with the creep who had contacted her the day before last.

Paige had been wrong. They both had been so very wrong indeed. He'd known, the whole time, where she'd lived. He'd most likely been planning, for however long, to track her down. And now, here he was, cornering her in her safe haven.

First task: get her phone back. She had to be able to call someone. But, who knew what this guy would do if he saw her going to grab it from the floor? What was he even here for, to begin with? Was he really just an obsessive fan, who'd crossed way too many boundaries to reach her? She needed to figure out the extent of what he wanted, so she could do what she needed to as quickly as possible. She didn't know what he was capable of, and she wasn't about to risk setting him off. At the same time, she needed him gone.

As he continued to stare, Beth figured it was on her to start the conversation. “Umm...wh-who are you?” Well. Not the greatest starter, but it was all she had. Taking a small step back, and then a half-step to her right, she never let her eyes leave him, hoping that her expression did not reflect her current inner turmoil. She'd hoped against hope, how many years ago, to never wind up in such a tense situation again, but...it looks like whatever deity was in charge, wasn't listening to her pleas.

That grin was threatening to stretch clear off his face; he seemed to be sizing her up. “I'm sorry, did I startle you? Oh no, please – don't be afraid! I'm not here to hurt you!” Oh, right. Like that was going to calm her down, what with the way he was staring. “Oh, this – this is even better than I could have ever imagined! I'm – I'm here now, and you're here! And, oh...it's an honor to meet you!”

Breathing hard, he made another two steps forward. In response, she took a larger one away, nearly leaning back into the top of the couch. She felt the hint of plastic beside her left foot; her phone was just within reach! If she could bend down, she could snatch it up in one move. But, with the way he was so fixated...she didn't trust any sudden actions, to not potentially trigger him into jumping her, somehow.

“How did you find me?” He'd said he was 'honored'. Was her theory correct? Beth was doing her best to get as much info out of him, any details that could be used to her advantage in resolving things. The sooner she could get him to sing like a canary, the better her chances at diffusing the situation.

However, he simply shook his head, brushing off her second question as he barreled on with his speech. “Please, don't be afraid. I've been waiting, for this moment, for so very long.” His eyes were sparkling, though the emotion behind them only served to stoke the fires of fear currently being fanned throughout Beth's system.

What moment? Waiting for what? She cleared her throat. “I-I'm sorry? You still haven't answered me.” The verbal stumble sucked, but at least she was showing her refusal to drop the subject. He wasn't going to get out of this so easily.

“You're...even more beautiful, up close.” Hearing this however, her heart sank. That sort of language...was not just something a devoted follower would say. Before she could respond, he was on one knee, fumbling with something in his coat.

Beth felt her jaw nearly unhinge, as he pulled out a little blue velvet box. Flipping the top open, it revealed a chunky-looking white crystal ring, with smaller yellow and green ones set around it in a curving pattern. The thing could have done some serious damage, were somebody to be slugged silly.

“Beth.” Then her whole name. Oh great. That's exactly what she wanted to hear! “I've admired you from afar for so very long. You are my goddess – you own my heart. My soul. Every day, I've listened to you. Every. Day. I've never strayed.” His eyes were shining, he was nearly salivating, getting off on his own dialogue. “I've come, to claim what's mine – you!Please, say yes! We were meant to be together! I've waited forever!”

Beth's mind was in a tailspin – this was not happening. It couldn't be! This absolute crazy fool – no, lunatic, had tracked her down, not knowing a damn thing about her, other than her job, where she talked to how many other people indirectly...just to scare her senseless with his babbling and a proposal?! Forget the swearing jar for now! This was madness!

And she'd reached her breaking point.

She wasn't going to let this jerk steamroll over her comfort and free will! She'd been on her own long enough, and through enough therapy sessions, to know her boundaries, and what she was entitled to. Safety and privacy. How he'd found her, she didn't know, and could currently care less. She'd cover her tracks later. Right now, she just needed him to go away.

If he didn't? Then, screw hiding it. She was grabbing her phone, somehow, and calling the cops.

“...please leave.” Her voice was soft, but her words were clear enough. He'd caught them, based on the sudden look of mild confusion that had crossed his features. His smile slipped slightly.

Beth was doing everything in her power not to shake or cry, to come across as resolutely as possible. “Y-You don't know me at all. And I d-don't know you. I'm sorry for - for whatever impression you think I gave off, but this i-isn't rational. It's not healthy, for either of us. You need to - to go. Now.” In spite of the stutters, there was no mistaking her intent.

At hearing this, his head tilted slightly, haltingly. The box in his hands fell to the floor, as slowly, his expression changed. In a few seconds, he was gazing back in utter devastation. His eyes were watering, as he let out a heavy sniffle, hiding his face as he wiped it furiously on the back of his sleeve.

Beth felt a slight pang then, in her chest – frightening as this was, she wasn't thrilled by the tears. She never set out to hurt anybody in her daily life. But, this guy had left her no choice. This was the only way she could think of, to resolve the conflict. She was just an ordinary person, not some sort of heavenly being, or hero. And she certainly wasn't interested in shacking up with some delusional unknown, who'd practically broken down her door to feed her his spiel!

“...why? This isn't – it wasn't supposed to be this way, like th-this...you were supposed to say yes. You were supposed to – supposed to love me...l-like I love you...loved you...love...” Now, he was starting to sound like a skipping record with his blubbering and broken speech. “I did...e-everything, for you...I was w-waiting, so long...every day...I l-loved you...you were m-meant to be mine...I loved you...”

Letting out a sigh under her breath, Beth figured, she could at least attempt to ease the blow a little bit, before he went on his way, be it by his own will, or in cuffs. “Look...I'm not the one for you. But that doesn't mean you'll – you'll never find anyone. It's just not me. Please, don't do this again. And you'll be sure to - ”

Suddenly, he lowered his arm. Beth felt the words freeze in her throat. Hatred. Absolute loathing and venom, directed entirely at her. If looks could kill, she'd be dead and buried. Worst case scenario, coming true.

“No...no, you're mine. You're MINE! You don't get to push me away! Not after EVERYTHING I did for YOU!” What had he done, other than listening to her show, terrifying her over the phone, and forcing his way into her home?! He was rising to his feet, and Beth felt incredibly small then, even though he was only a few inches taller.

She recognized that stance, before he moved. She was already diving for the floor.

Chapter 14: Psycho Killer

Chapter Text

My phone - ! Just as one hand had wrapped around the cell, Beth felt a sharp, painful yank to her scalp. The guy had grabbed her hair, and was pulling her back forcefully. Letting out a yelp, she did the only thing she could think of: slamming her other fist into whatever of his head she could reach repeatedly, struggling to get away.

Although he was grunting from the landing blows, he wasn't backing off. He was making an attempt to drag her closer towards him as he stood up again, bringing her to her feet as well. She almost dropped the device in her hand, but thankfully kept it in her hold. This time, she swung a leg back, kicking him in the knee.

He swore loudly, grip loosening around her locks. Swinging her head, Beth was able to break free. Spinning off-balance towards the door, one hand smacked against the wall, flipping the light switch. She didn't have enough time to undo the lock though – through the filtered moonlight, she could see him already reaching for her again. Crying out, Beth just barely managed to avoid him, feinting to the right and slipping around.

Now, she was facing the hallway, and her bedroom. All she needed to do was run, get in, and seal the door. She could call the cops from there! Just RUN!

That's what she was going to do, pulse pounding in her ears. She was sweating, panting. Her head was aching, as was her chest. Her feet were about to start their mad dash for freedom -

“NO!” This time, the sound coming from him was a roar of rage. Before she could move, he'd tackled her, towards the direction of the kitchen. They slammed into the floor, her phone flying once again. The wind was knocked out of her fully, as she let out a gasping cough.

Now, he was pinning her against the ground, straddling her. One hand was wrapped around her left wrist, holding it down. Only her empty right hand was free. With her technological lifeline gone, all Beth could rely on, was whatever she physically had available. Swinging out wildly, she once more struck at any part of him she could reach. His arm, chest, head – the punches were connecting, but not doing much to stop his assault.

There was no other choice - the adrenaline was pumping and pulsing through her blood. Inhaling deeply, she let out a screech. The sound was grating on her ears, and her throat – she absolutely never raised her voice! She hated yelling, either hearing it or doing it! But this wasn't a situation where she could afford to be picky. It was either shout, or...

“No! No, stop it!” One clammy hand was reaching for her mouth, to cover it. His other was making a motion to take both of her wrists in its grasp, above her head. Kicking against the wood as hard as she could, hoping the vibrations might carry over, she thrashed about. As his palm cupped over her lips, she drew them back, to lean up and bite, hard. He swore from the contact, pulling away, and allowing her to let out one more shriek.

Wham. Beth was seeing stars, as the pain exploded against the side of her face and mouth. Did...did that just happen? He'd just hit her. No, ignore it! Just get free! Again, the scream.

“Shut up!” Another strike, this time front-facing. She could feel his fist driving into her eyes and nose, causing them to give, lips being forced against her teeth. She could feel the split of flesh, could taste the blood this time. Her vision started to swim, a surge of agony swelling from her chin to her temples. Still, she forced herself to breathe in one more time, preparing to let loose another cry. Somebody had to have heard her...! They just had to!

Suddenly, the snap, and a pointed end, pressing against her throat. Immediately, Beth froze. She was all too aware of the sensation, and what it stemmed from. Even in the mixture of darkness and blurry, swelling vision, she felt the tip slide up her jugular, before being lifted, to eye-level. The glint reflected ominously in the shadows, and she could just barely register the insane expression on his features. A mixture of lust, fury, and dominance; he knew he'd just flipped the script on her here.

In his grip, was a switchblade. She was absolutely certain he would not hesitate to use it.

Everyone always liked to talk up a storm, about how much of a badass they'd be, in a situation like this. How it wouldn't matter, they'd never let anyone get the jump on them; that people who'd been attacked just must not have fought back hard enough. And how funny, in a macabre way – it wasn't as though she was a stranger to sharp objects.

But, in spite of her history, they were still terrifying, and having this one wielded against her, was enough to make the last scream die upon her tongue. Her body had gone still, as he now proceeded to trace the edge against her lips. She could feel the blood dripping down to her jaw, as he brushed the end against the drop. Lifting it up once more, a hint of ruby red glistened in the faint lighting peeking in through the windows.

“Yes...just like that. That's what I want. You'll be good for me now, right? Then I don't have to hurt you anymore. I don't want to hurt you anymore.” He slowly brought the knife down, to point directly at where her heart would be, under her sweater. “You don't want me...to hurt you any more either, right?” It was skipping like a rabbit's, cornered by the much larger predator. Carefully, she shook her head, as much as she could manage from the steady ache. What else could she do here?

After a couple of seconds, he began to lower her arms in his grasp, releasing her wrists as he draped them over his shoulders. “Just like that...” He wanted her to hold him, it seemed. As long as he had the weapon, he was in charge. It was aimed between her chest and throat, so as sickening as it was to do so, Beth mimicked the gesture of affection. She felt nauseous, on top of the pain – this guy was disgusting, in too many ways to count.

He leaned in close, breath hot against her face. It was slightly sour. She tried not to gag. “Yes...this is how it's meant to be. Just you, and me...together forever.” One hand was reaching to cup her face, stroking a thumb over the rising, bruised flesh. The other was still holding the weapon tightly, ready to attack at any moment. He wasn't letting his guard down just yet. “I'm sorry baby, did it hurt? But you wouldn't listen to me – you hurt me first.” His stare was a mocking example of tenderness and questioning. “Do you understand, why I had to do it?”

Who knew what he'd do, if she didn't respond appropriately? As much as she would have wanted to just spit in his face, Beth couldn't chance it. She had to keep playing along. So, again, she nodded. He was grinning now, both relieved...and hungry.

“You'll see, once this is over...you will understand. We were made for each other. Then, we can run away from here, just the two of us. Where nobody will ever find us. Doesn't that sound so lovely?” He was rambling now, talking just as much to himself as he was to her about his twisted fantasy. “We'll make it official, after this...but for now, we're going to have some fun, okay?”

Now, he was squeezing her cheeks together, causing a flinch. This made his expression darken just so. “We're going to have fun together, right? This is what you wanted. You wanted to play rough, and now...I can't wait any longer.” His eyes were shining maniacally. “I've been waiting for you all this time...and now, that we've finally found each other...I'm so happy. Aren't you?” His lips were so very close to her own, as he pressed his fingertips more deeply into her skin. “Don't you want to make me even happier? Don't you want us to be happy?”

The knife was being lifted once more, reddened end looping through the air in her strained vision. “Don't you??”

What else could she do here? It absolutely ate her up inside, but Beth was forced to nod, even as it was stilted and reluctant. He accepted it as a green light, ecstatic once more as he let go of her face, now bringing his lips in to close the gap.

She wanted to sob. She wanted to hurl. This cretin was in her space, holding her life in his hands, forcing himself on her with no consequences whatsoever. Just when she'd thought that the worst was finally behind her, she was proven wrong yet again. No matter what she'd come from, or gotten over, the trauma was never-ending.

If she actually made it out of this catastrophe...then what? What was she supposed to do from here? Go where? Fix what? How? She was broken enough as it was, but at least she'd found some sort of method to function! It was like being sent back to the start, all over again! Every scrap of progress she'd made – it meant nothing in the long run! She was still the same victim she'd always been. That would never change.

He continued to explore her mouth with an unwanted tongue, hand now starting to wander as well. First, a shove upwards of her bulky sweater, and the top underneath, then a yank of her pajama bottoms, lowering them along her thighs. She felt so tiny and exposed. Like a doll in the hands of a rough child, completely helpless to whatever game they chose to engage in.

Beth's thoughts began to drift away; she was doing everything she could, to check out of this moment. She didn't want to be here. Didn't want to be present while her only body was violated and defiled. Not like she hadn't been through the ringer as it was, but this...was on a whole new level. Now she knew – she'd only gotten a taste of just how ugly life could truly be.

And who could say, that this guy wouldn't actually wind up killing her after this?

Now, she was touching upon the downright morbid. If this was where she was to die...who would find her body? Certainly not her neighbors, they didn't pay much attention to her comings and goings, let alone the current calamity. Paige, if she didn't answer the door the next time she came over? Or...

Wait a minute. That's right – she wasn't alone here. There was still...the little deer, tucked up and away in her room. Possibly wondering, from behind the door, what on Earth all that ruckus was outside, if he'd heard anything at all. He could have just gone to sleep, completely unaware of her predicament.

For some reason, Beth could feel herself starting to get angry, over her fear.

She remembered the dream she'd had, those many nights ago. How terrified she'd been, at the mercy of that monster, who had wound up engaging in a duet with her. She recalled, how at that time, she'd been thinking, there was nothing scarier in the world, than that creature. Even if it were fictional, a vision brought on by stress, if she were to pretend it was real, and compare this bastard...she knew who would win, in a fight. This guy and his knife wouldn't stand a chance.

Her fist clenched at her side, as a sticky hand brushed over her stomach. She'd been willing to stare death in the face back then, all for the sake of not giving up, and keeping her new friend alive. Yet here, she was willing to just roll over and surrender? No, she couldn't!

He'd survived that nasty wound to his side. Who knew what else he'd been through before she'd found him. But she was afraid of getting banged up a bit from this guy? Suddenly, the pain she'd been feeling, wasn't so strong. She was fighting quietly to stabilize her breathing and vision. She could see his face, feel his lips pressed tightly to her own. Just one instant! All she needed was an opportunity to strike. Her fists weren't doing much, but she had to keep at it!

And maybe, just maybe, something else...?

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he pulled away, panting hard as he looked her over. His expression was starstruck, a gross imitation of what a loving gaze should have been. He didn't know the first thing about love! And Beth was going to make him pay for everything he'd done here tonight. For everything he'd put her through.

No more. She wasn't going to be a helpless statistic. She'd fight back, not just for herself, but for those who were counting on her. Her furry buddy still needed her. Her friends still needed her. The few family members who gave a crap, she supposed, still needed her. All it would take was just one slip on his end, one second of distraction. Then, she'd retaliate. How, she didn't know. But when she did, she'd give it everything she had.

“You're so beautiful...you don't know what you do to me. We're going to be so very happy together, just you wait and see, Beth...” Her name sounded awful, coming from his mouth. She couldn't wait to shut him up. Just a little longer...a little longer...!

It was as he drew back, lowering the knife towards the ground as he reached for his belt buckle, that Beth saw her chance. NOW! Swinging upwards as fast as she could manage, Beth caught him in the face with the top of her head, knocking him in the jaw. He let out a yell, snapping backwards.

As she sat up, his hand was striking out with the blade. Turning on a dime, Beth let out a cry as he slashed towards her scarred cheek, barely catching the skin, and a few strands of hair. She felt the quick sting of splitting flesh. The tip of the weapon scraped against the floor as he pulled up quickly, to try again.

Reaching out as swiftly as she could manage, she wrapped her left hand around his wrist, holding the knife away with all the strength she could muster. Her right shot out, to claw at his face, driving her fingertips into whatever she could find. She was fighting to locate his eyes, his nose, anything to send him reeling further, all while keeping the blade at bay.

“You...BITCH!” He was putting all the weight on his weapon, other hand now trying to grab her throat. Oh, this tactic? Ha! Wiggling side to side, tucking her chin down, even as her head was throbbing, Beth refused to let him touch her. Thank God for baggy hoodies! Because of the thrashing, her legs were now kicking once more against the floor. If only she could lift one, she would have been able to knee him, somewhere below!

The knife was slowly drawing nearer. Beth could see it gleaming, but she wouldn't give up! Pressing against his wrist as hard as she could, she was attempting to throw his trajectory off-balance. Even if she got stabbed in the arm or shoulder, that would be better than the face or chest! But, getting him to drop the blade entirely, was best case scenario.

Her nails were digging into his wielding hand, while the other was now doing its best to slug him square-on, as hard as she could manage. She most likely wasn't hitting him like he'd done her, but it was better than nothing! She was buying time, until she could think of something else to dole out! When he made his next mistake!

Until then, though...one more deep inhale. This time, not just a sound. “PLEASE! HELP ME - ”

Crack. He'd given up on trying to choke her, returning to his prior tactic of brute force. Catching her in the jaw, her teeth slammed into one another. She almost bit through her tongue. Instantly, her grip went slack, allowing the knife to drop down. But before the weapon could connect with its target -

Boom! The sound of the bedroom door, flying open.

…...

When he'd heard the first scream, he hadn't been entirely sure what to make of it.

Beth had left the room, to check the door. Nothing out of the ordinary there, even if it was irking, after the day he'd had. He'd seen the light turn on from the corner of his eye, cast down to the room at the end of the hall through the cracked bedroom entryway. Had heard the locks undo, and the creak of the hinges.

He had been able to pick up on the voices, once the front had shut – this time, it wasn't that other female who'd come around. He could identify the new speaker as a male. He'd seemed to do most of the talking; then again, it wasn't really that hard to speak over someone like Beth. If he'd had access to his voice, he probably would have done it, too. Whether because it was too easy, funny, or a mixture of both, he couldn't be sure. But that was neither here nor there at the moment.

His eyes had narrowed just so; a masculine caller was far different from a feminine one, even if it were possible for opposite genders to be friends. At this late of an hour, who knew what intentions were at play here? He didn't hear any decisive notes of socialization – no laughter, no cheering. It was all mostly just that man. However, Beth was very reserved – perhaps her responses were more visual, not sound-based? Maybe she was even smiling in silence, who knew?

A tick in his temple then. Smiling...with this stranger...

Then, voices had raised. He couldn't make out the words exactly, but it was quite obvious: something had been said, or done, that this male was not taking kindly to. What were they talking about? An outside issue, bringing on a recalled offense? A sensitive topic? Had Beth somehow set him off? If so, in what way?

Even if he'd experienced any sort of exasperation with her, it never extended very deeply, or lasted for that long. She was quick to apologize and back down, and her general mannerisms and quirks were more a subject of interest. He would rather figure her out than fight her. The quarrel could come later, once it was far too late for her to break free.

But, in general, she didn't strike him as the combative type. More of a peacemaker, wanting everyone to 'get along'. This was impossible, though he couldn't really blame her for trying. It was a lofty, if fanciful aspiration; her compassion was notable. She'd already taken him in, after all, and cared for him far better than just a mere creature. Besides tending to his injuries, she'd brought him about through comfortable transport, engaged with him, fed him to the best of her abilities, and even treated him to those special performances with her voice.

Yes, she'd attempted to 'name' him, at one point, but had quickly backed off, picking up on the signals he'd been relaying, and accepting his preferences. He couldn't fault her for that one – it was innocent ignorance, not malice, that had caused her actions. They'd been able to continue on from there just fine, without any hassle.

So then, why...why all this noise, here and now? The slam, and then the shrieking?

He'd been caught off-guard, he had to admit. Goodness, he'd never realized Beth could get that loud! It was almost impressive. But why the vocals? What on Earth were they up to out there? Was she just trying to drown him out? Was he saying something she didn't like? Was this some sort of contest? Really, it was so out of the norm!

Next, through the floor, the vibrations. Somebody was stomping hard. Like a child pitching a fit, or someone dancing. What the heck?

He supposed, he could have stuck his head out there, to take a peek. After all, this time, Beth hadn't closed the door fully. That could be taken as her not expecting this person's company. Therefore, not intending to keep him hidden. And, he could admit, a hint of inquisitiveness. This wasn't a common occurrence.

However...he was also still a bit miffed, if he were allowed to say so – oh, of course he was! Like he really needed anyone's permission for this sort of thing! From earlier that day, and the day before, too! Being left behind, forced to amuse himself. Like he were just a typical run-of-the-mill animal. If he were something so simple to her, then why should he bother extending his interest in her activities any further? Whatever was going on, she could deal with it herself. She was a big girl.

It had gotten quiet then, for a time. He would have almost thought they'd left, if he hadn't been able to pick up on the lowered tones of the male...and rapid heartbeats. My oh my, somebody was excited! Though for what reasons, he couldn't be certain. Hopefully nothing too crude. Humans these days, really. It was no wonder so many of them wound up down below. At least he'd put on a proper show before his fate was sealed. He hadn't just thrown himself at the first common sin or vice available. He had standards.

As the silence had dragged on though, his thoughts had started to wander, whether or not he wanted them to. From earlier, that melody had begun to drift through his mental hearing. The story of a lover turned victim, with targeted offspring only freed through a dark deed. It lingered, like a heavy perfume that refused to disperse, even with the windows open.

Or the scent of freshly baked cinnamon beignets. That damn dream. What did it have anything to do with this?

Forcibly shoving the two thoughts aside, he'd been brought back even further. To the time when Beth had sung after the call, then during the vision he'd given her. Before she'd fallen asleep. Even further on...the very first instance she'd performed for him.

Now, he wasn't hearing the voices of storytellers, or unwanted phantoms. No, now it was just Beth. Simple Beth. Caring Beth. Naive Beth. The one who would never hurt a fly.

The way her voice soared over the notes, no matter the range or emotion. The way she'd held him as she'd sung – even as she'd sought comfort, her touch hadn't been binding, or uncomfortable. There had been an expressed tenderness there, that he couldn't quite identify. At first, he'd been repulsed, but as soon as she'd started harmonizing, everything had seemed to fall into place. His concerns had quieted, allowing him to enjoy the attention and act.

Even without touch, the look to her features, as they'd locked eyes. How both sides had been utterly enraptured with the other's existence and reactions. Those sea green eyes of hers, wide with surprise, lifting the hint of sleepiness they usually bore. There was a name for eyes like hers, wasn't there? 'Bedroom eyes'? They were supposed to be appealing, for some reason. He had no inkling as to why, or who had coined the term. All he knew was the amusem*nt he felt, at seeing just how strongly her emotions were revealed across their surface.

And yet...no joy. Never that. She still hadn't smiled because of him, or for him. If he were to somehow, be separated from Miss Beth, before solving her mystery, let alone getting her to crack even just a grin in his direction...what would he do then?

He'd been startled, to say the least, when an answer hadn't readily appeared before him.

She was just another human, right? Granted, one that had done more for him than most, but still. She bore no unusual abilities, aside from her pipes. She held no real sort of power in her life, no money or status. She was, most likely, not even considered a top specimen physically, by the standards of the world. So then, why? What would he really be losing if something were to happen to her?

A flash across his mind's eye. That specter, yet again. Those varied notes. Beth. What was the message being transmitted here?

He...really didn't like leaving business unfinished. And, if he were to be honest, until he'd gotten his fill of his human pet, he would not consider the book closed. There was still too much to figure out here. So many things he had yet to obtain and discover. He was still healing too, right? Who could take care of him; offer him safety, any better than she could? Was he really willing to start all over with another human who might just very well kick him to the curb, or worse?

No. He wasn't. He'd settled in quite nicely here, thank you. This was his home base, whether Beth liked it or not. She wasn't aware of it now, but she would be, in time. In time.

Would they have the time?

He'd realized then – most likely, something very bad was happening outside. Something was happening to Beth. Something that could take away his current sanctuary, and upend all his potential planning. His desires for the future, his grandiose schemes – not dreams. What others wanted, they wanted; what he wanted, he got. Nothing was allowed to stand in his way. Be it an event, an item, a place or a person, a being. He wasn't at the top of the pile, but from where he stood, he was always first.

Beth. Where would her voice go? She wouldn't be able to sing for him anymore. He'd never get a chance to see what she looked like with a smile. Perhaps, having such a lovely set of vocals, was a good sign as to whether or not she could pull off the gesture effectively?

The stomping had returned. A yell, this time from the male. What a boorish sound. He probably only sang when he was drunk enough to not be embarrassed. What was the proper course of action here?

Another flashback then. To the first time she'd properly fed him. When he'd been studying her face, wondering where the scars had come from. He'd offered his services then, hadn't he? Made a small promise, if only to himself. That if Beth had wound up in a tricky set of circ*mstances, perhaps...he'd be willing to lend a hand? It would be beneficial to both of them in the long run, right? She wouldn't get hurt, he wouldn't lose anything important.

But how? How would he go about it? He was still so restricted, in the process of healing! He couldn't transform yet, right? He'd only come so far recently with his abilities! For crying out loud, he was still bound in bandages!

Suddenly, the final scream, that had stripped away the last barrier. “PLEASE, HELP ME - ” Beth, actually speaking this time. The horror in her words was all too real. She was about to die. That jolt in his memories, one last time.

“I don't want you to die!”

“D-Don't...touch him! I don't care...what you do to me...butleave him alone!”

He'd felt it before he'd seen anything: the surge of pure power. Then, the explosion.

Chapter 15: Monster

Chapter Text

The blast from down the hallway was more than enough to startle both parties outside, though their responses were markedly different. Beth could only hear the sound, vaguely registering the direction it came from. But upon her realization, the most she could do was turn slightly, making out the corner, and part of the short darkened path.

Her attacker however, had been shaken enough to stab the knife straight into the floor, less than an inch beside her head. His eyes were wide, as he stared, slightly slack-jawed and leaning back, at the now wide-open doorway. The glow inside was flickering, casting strange shadows upon the walls, belongings, and bed.

Then, the lights fizzled out completely. Once more, the apartment was bathed in full darkness.

A few seconds of still and silence. Suddenly...

Loud crackling. The best way to describe it, seeing as Beth worked with it on a regular basis, was radio static. Like somebody had just turned on a station with poor connection. Gradually, it grew stronger, before giving way to a mishmash of distorted voices and elements. Now, like someone was trying to adjust the reception.

At the same time, an illumination was being cast – a neon scarlet glare, slowly filtering through from the entrance. It was rising, filling the room, before spreading along the hall. It reached the pair, bathing them in its ominous shade.

“What the hell...?” Her assailant seemed to have momentarily forgotten that she was there, even while he pulled the blade from the wood, as if about to strike again. His focus was entirely on the visual aura spilling forth. Had...another person been here this whole time?

His rage was starting to return. Looking at her in a new frenzy, he grabbed at the front of Beth's sweater with one hand, hauling her up to meet his wild-eyed gaze. “Hey! Were you seeing someone else instead of me?!” A warped grin was upon his lips, as he pointed the weapon in her face. “That's not what my good girl would do - ”

But, he was cut off, by a distinct new sound: music. A song was starting to play, glitchy and halting in its tune. Beth's eyes widened slightly; she could make out a slew of lyrics, mixed together to form a warbling, eerie tapestry of melody. They were all songs she'd listened to recently. The lines that stood out the most, however?

“...I will devour you whole...by me, you will learn fear...” In the doorway, a dark shape was beginning to form; a shadowy blur, claiming detail piece by piece, with every moment that passed. No – it was drawing nearer, and thus getting clearer. It wasn't just a black blob. The inky formation was transforming, gaining features and color – an array of crimson hues, to match the day-glo red that was continuing to ooze out from Beth's bedroom. What now stood before them...

...was a figure, backlit to provide an even more sinister profile and persona.

Beth felt her breath hitch in her throat. Inhuman./Old-fashioned./Bloody. These were some of the terms that first flickered across her thoughts, as her battered vision drank in the specifics of just who – or what – had presented itself.

Insanely tall. She could tell; it wasn't just because she was on the ground. This being had to have been over a whole head larger than her, and most likely her antagonizer as well. Standing stock-straight, arms folded behind it, head co*cked at a slight angle, staring without a word.

Actually, it was seemingly masculine in its features – lean, though it didn't look as if he'd be blowing over in the wind anytime soon. Broad shoulders....or was that the coat he wore? Wait, he was wearing a coat?

Yes, he was. A tattered vermilion pinstriped suit, open and wide at the bottom, reaching his knees, with long cuffed pants, a high-collared shirt, bow tie, and dress shoes. Everything about his presence was just as red as the energy surrounding him. Wide, matching, heavy-lidded eyes scanned his surroundings from behind a monocle, with a short, roughly angled, two-tone haircut that framed a sharp, ashen-hued face. Were those also...pointed, fluffy ears, and small horns as well, atop his head??

And, the one final note. It stood out, impossible to ignore. Those long, gleaming golden fangs, drawn up into a slasher's smile.

In an instant, Beth felt her heart nearly stop. This guy, or whatever he was...she recognized him. Those eyes. The ears. And those so-called horns – they were antlers. Although it was in something more of a human-esque vessel, there was no mistaking it:

Her little deer buddy. This was him. It had to be him! He'd come out of the bedroom, and the resemblance was uncanny – despite that grin, which was not the mouth of a small woodland creature anymore.

Then, a hand slipped out, from behind his back. Something off-white was flowing from his grasp. In an instant, she was able to identify the object...as gauze. Her heart skipped, hard, as he allowed it to fall at his feet. No questions now. There was no other explanation! But, if that was the case...

...then what the ever-loving f*ck was going on?!

…...

As he stood there, surveying the scene, the newly entered party allowed not a one of his thoughts to cross into the physical, to cast a trace across his features. Inside though, his mind was busy at work.

Beth. Goodness gracious, Beth. She'd certainly had better days, hadn't she? Her face was badly beaten, blood dripping from her lips and nose, eyes partially hidden by both her hair and the swelling. There was the slightest trace, of another slash across her already patchy cheek. No no no, this just wouldn't do. This was not what he wanted to see here.

His gaze had traveled, giving the briefest glance-over to the stupefied male with weapon clutched tightly. Continuing down his companion's figure, to the disheveled state of her clothes; her lifted top garments, the fact that her bottoms had been partially lowered. At this, his eyes narrowed, though his smile remained.

Oh. That's what this unknown was after, hmm? Some sort of 'admirer', perhaps – he used the term quite loosely – who'd been rejected, and had decided to use whatever methods possible to get what he wanted? Like a spoiled brat.

Yes...it was all too clear what was going on, and he didn't like it one bit. This man, if he could even be called as such, had wormed his way into his territory, laying hands on his human pet, with such disgusting, deplorable intentions, attempting to upend his security? And honestly thought that he'd get away with it?

He had to hold back the laugh that was threatening to erupt. Not on his life. It was time to step in, and clean up.

By this point, the guy above her was starting to lose it, once more. Looking between Beth and the stranger, he was just about ready to truly break. “You...what, you lied to me? Cheating on me, breaking my trust? No no, Bethy, that's no good!”

A high-pitched, giddy laugh. He was absolutely unhinged now. “I guess...I'll just have to take care of this myself, won't I? Take care of both of you!” Slowly, he stood up, knife in hand, ready to strike. “I'll get rid of this guy, and then...oh then, we're gonna have some REAL fun!” With that, he let out a yell, charging forwards, blade raised and ready to strike.

Beth had no idea what else she could do here. All she could think of, no matter the drastic changes, was the original image of her small, oddball animal pal, getting hurt again. The shock of horror that rippled through her was enough to get her to act, in spite of her injuries. “Look out!”

It happened in an instant. One second, the male was on his feet. The next, he'd been sent flying towards the television, smashing into it with a loud crash. Beth had barely seen the snap when it had happened, but as her attacker let out a groan from where he lay, her eyes were blinking furiously, however they could in disbelief, at the new sight that greeted her.

A large, black tendril of some sort, had extended from the floor, and was swaying in place, as if on a breeze. That was what had provided the blow. Just like from her dream. As soon as it had appeared, it vanished.

Abruptly, she was seeing red. More actions that she couldn't follow. Her not-so-little friend, was now less than an inch away from her face. Her breathing froze. He was looking at her intently, scarlet eyes centered on her and her alone. He seemed to be...drinking in the details of her current state. In spite of her fear, Beth could feel the faintest hint of heat pricking in her throbbing cheeks. He was witnessing her, in such a vulnerable and shameful position...!

His hand was reaching out, to gently tilt her chin upwards. Her heart jolted; she could barely register the sensation of pointed ends pressing into her skin. Like the sight of the vine before, another piece of the puzzle had just fallen into place, as he leaned in closer.

Wait...what the heck was he doing??

“You poor dear...” Was that...his voice? It was low, with a hint of some sort of accent that she couldn't place. And, a faint crackle – the static, ever-present to his persona. It had never gone away, only fluctuated in its levels. Just like an active frequency.

A swift sensation of contact nearly made Beth yelp. His thumb had grazed the line of blood, trailing from her lip. Pulling back slowly, the glint in his stare was almost...teasing, as he brought the stained digit to his lips. She could make out, that the claws on his hands – at the ends of four long fingers – were just as red as the rest of him. The whole appendage though, was a deep shade of wine, as if he were wearing gloves. Was he? She couldn't tell.

Then, a long tongue extended, to lap up the spot on his finger. She could have fainted right then and there. His eyes closed, as he let out a soft sigh. Obviously, he was savoring the taste. But...what did this mean? Was he...going to make a meal of her, or something? He had been eating nothing but meat, after all – perhaps he was graduating in main courses!

“Beth.” Hearing her name, uttered in his voice, made her heart do a somersault. “Do pull yourself together now, hmm?” At this, she remembered: beyond her shattered current state, her attire. He was near enough to see - ! Cheeks burning, she scrambled, trembling, to adjust her clothes.

His eyes fluttered open, as he stood up then. Yeah – he was a freaking giant! As he turned away on his heel, striding in the direction of the coughing, staggering body to the side, he offered her one last parting shot, over his shoulder with a wink. That smile he wore never lessened.

“Oh, and...enjoy the show.”

Yes...that had been a good appetizer. A tasty warm-up. Not just throwing that fool halfway across the room, either. Beth's blood...was absolutely delectable. As expected. He could feel his strength further returning – there was a reason that sort of magic was so effective – as he cracked his neck, before stopping a few feet away from his target. Watching, waiting. Giving him an honest shot at responding.

“Urgh...” The creep had managed to rise back onto his feet, though he'd been effectively winded and disarmed, switchblade having gone flying from his grasp. Whatever pain he might have been in however, didn't stop him from straightening up, to look the haunting new being in the eye. As if he really stood a chance against this...whatever he was. Beth had no idea. Just what, exactly, had she brought into her home? Her life?

Right now, the only thing she was certain of, was that this...was about to get bloody. And she wasn't sure how she was meant to feel about this fact.

“You...who are you?” Her tormentor stared at the crimson terror for a few seconds, in questioning, before finally shaking his head, and wiping the blood from his face. With a spit towards the ground – great, gross – he took up a fighting stance. “Whatever, it doesn't matter!”

That crazed gleam hadn't yet left his gaze, as he sized up his much larger opponent. “I won't give her up to ANYONE! She's MINE! If you're here for her, you'll have to get through me first!” A deranged laugh then, as he took a couple steps forward. His fists were clenched tightly, ready to strike at the first chance he got. At the same time, his eyes were scanning the area, every so often – most likely looking for his weapon. It just made him appear all the more unhinged.

Upon his last line, the being before him merely chuckled. His arms were folded behind his back, yet again, as he replied cooly.

“I intend to do just that.”

Snap. Looks like somebody didn't like being mocked. Letting out a snarl, the man ran towards his mark, swinging wide and wildly. Without missing a beat, as if he were gliding across ice, the formidable figure easily dodged each blow. He seemed to be relishing in the mounting frustration of the other combatant. His eyes were alight with an unknown emotion – or at least, one that shouldn't have been aimed at another person. Beth understood what was happening here almost immediately:

The strange male was taunting him. Leading him on, working him up, to...well, whatever he was planning. Based off of the features he bore, the woman could only begin to imagine the possibilities.

“HAH!” Suddenly, the madman's stare shot to the left. With a sharp skid, he dove to the side, swiping a hand towards the floor. The redhead didn't flinch, didn't even duck, as with another roar and a forceful jab, the creep had stabbed the newly-retrieved switchblade at his chest.

Beth couldn't hold back. Another scream left her lips, and this time, she didn't care how much it hurt. “NO!”

A few seconds of silence. Then, rising upon the air...

...soft laughter. And, she realized: it wasn't just coming from her friend. No; it sounded as if a whole audience was joining in now, watching the fight unfold. Her head, even in its current state, was turning about, trying to pinpoint the source of the voices. They seemed to be emanating from everywhere, all at once!

“Is that the best you've got?” Those six words were absolutely chilling in their utterance, paired with that red-eyed leer, and golden-toothed sneer. The monster's left hand was raised, directly in front of where his heart would be...having caught the blade full-on. When this had happened, it was impossible to say. His fingers were wrapped around the metal, even as it had pierced his palm. Beth let out a gasp, as slowly, he began to lift the appendage. The knife was easily pulled from its wielder's grasp, before being slowly plucked out.

Her attacker's resolve was quickly depleting, eyes wide as saucers. “What...? No...” The creature let out a hum, examining the weapon carefully. Behind his antagonizer, Beth could see, rising, inch by inch, another two long tendrils, stealthily coiling up and around the man's lower legs, to root him in place.

The deer being was continuing to survey the weapon in a lazy manner, twirling it between his fingers. “You know...I'mcertainly no saint.” Really? Could've had me fooled! And there went Beth's inner wannabe comedian again! Now was not the time for this sort of commentary!

“But. At least I'm not a flaw under the delusion of being productive.” Oh, the tone to his words here was positively acidic and mocking. The emphasis was just as pointed as the blade, as he raised a brow, locking stares with the rapidly deflating creep. “And, though this grants me no redemption...”

The speaker leaned in close, savoring the fearful breaths being released from his target, who still hadn't noticed that his body was gradually being restrained from the ground up. He was sweating profusely, swallowing hard as the point of the knife, in clawed hands, now grazed his jugular, forcing his head to jerk back.

“...I would never commit such a vulgar deed.” His gaze lit up, the emotion reflected sending a fresh wave of shivers throughout Beth's figure. “Your soul is far too tainted, for even the likes of myself.”

His smile was ever so wide. With a sudden yank, the creep let out a gasp, finally fully acknowledging his fatal predicament. The vines tugged around him swiftly, another two appearing and sliding up, to wrap about his flailing arms. In just a few moves, this creature had effectively sealed his opponent's fate. “So, do send Hell my warmest regards. I'm sure they'll appreciate your contribution.”

Beth was raising her hands to her face, as if on instinct. Like she were about to watch the scariest part in a horror flick. She didn't know how it was about to go down, but she knew what was coming.

“Augh - !” Her former assailant was letting out a series of cries, as the tendrils tightened, crushing his limbs. They were cracking under the pressure, and this was only the beginning. Now, they were starting to pull apart, in different directions. He was gasping from the force.

A quick chortle of delight from the monster man. He wagged a finger in front of his prey's face. “Ah-ah-ah! We're just getting star-ted~! No tapping out!” His bloody hand was waving in his face, as if to make sure he was still conscious. The blade in-between the other one's fingers was already taking aim.

“Hmm...why don't we begin riiight...here!” With that, a sharp slice, straight to his left cheek. The male let out a scream; the skin was split straight down, blood spilling forth from the even line. Another swing, this time to his forehead. Then, the other cheek, the lips, and down the nose – oh God, he sliced the end of it clean off! As though he were painting a portrait with a razor-edged brush, and this man was the unfortunate canvas.

He was surveying his work with a satisfied nod, all while his victim's cries continued rising in volume and pitch. “Perfect!” Beth could feel her stomach starting to lurch violently. “Since you thought it so necessary to spill another's blood, why not get a taste of it for yourself?” His features were a mess of dripping red, flesh hanging in a few parts – and the creature still wasn't finished. With a flourish, he swung back -

“HRGH - !” To stab him straight in the abdomen. Drawing out, he struck yet again, to another spot, a couple inches above. Then further up, into his shoulder, and down, to the right side of his chest. He was seemingly weaving a purposeful pattern, avoiding the heart and major organs, simply puncturing everything around them. By this time, Beth's former crazed admirer was nothing more than a bleeding mess, a wide puddle of deep crimson forming where he stood. His arms and legs, on top of it all, were steadily being compacted and pulled away from him.

And he was still alive, somehow. This wasn't the end of it.

Another little hum of acknowledgement. “Oh, yes! Can't forget that!” With a yank of the hair and a flick of the wrist, he'd forced the male's head back again, to slit the front of his throat. He let out a gurgling gasp, as even more lifeforce came forth. They were both practically swimming in it! “Ah, lovely. Silence is golden, except when it's silver.” At this, he flipped the blade in the air, catching the handle deftly between his long digits with a low chuckle. “Though, I am quiteappreciative of this current color palette, as well.”

By this point, the man's limbs were just about ready to tear entirely away from his body. He was like a rag doll, now suspended above the floor. The air around them was filled with the buzzing static, as well as applause, laughter, and cheering. Beth could only surmise that, somehow...these crowd sounds were being produced by her once animal companion.

“Well, then. I think we're done here.” With a final stab, the blade was now sticking out, once again, from the male's stomach. “Oh look, another orifice. Do you enjoy being penetrated by steel?” What a sense of humor. Amazingly, his target was alive, but barely. Dying eyes weakly glanced over at Beth, staring in abject horror. Neither of those things was what had caught her attention so fiercely.

The being was chuckling again...and slowly starting to grow and glow. His arms were extending, as were his antlers. He now towered even more so over the helpless former attacker, now reduced to nothing but prey of the lowest caliber.

And there, in the center of his forehead...a red 'X'? What did that mean?

There was an indescribable look in the monster's eyes – a terrifying level of elation, as he let out a heavy, heated growl. This was it – the piece de resistance! The final lines delivered...would be the last this pile of flesh-bound excrement would ever hear.

“I don't think you really have the heart to go on...so, bon apetit.”

In a gruesome flash of vermilion spray, the tendrils tore away fully, ripping off all four of the male's useless limbs. All while at the same time, the deer demon had shoved his hand clean into his chest, to rip out the aforementioned organ...

...and take a large bite.

That was where Beth's world went black.

Chapter 16: Unchained

Chapter Text

Well now. This...was not what he'd been expecting. At all.

It wasn't the gore and violence that surprised him, no no no. He practically lived and breathed a good massacre! He could have pulled off a stunt like this in his sleep! What had caught his attention the most, had been the sound of the solid thunk behind him. When he'd turned around, he'd found Beth, completely passed out on the floor. Apparently, the latest sight had been just a tad too much for her to handle. Interesting.

His first thought would have been, considering everything that cretin had put her through, she'd have relished in witnessing his demise. Looks as though she didn't quite have the stomach for such matters. Not yet, anyway.

This begged the question: what to do from here?

He supposed he could just...leave her there to come around, whenever that might be. It didn't quite seem right, though. Although he wasn't really worried, at the same time...the poor girl had been through a fair bit tonight. It might be a little shock, to wake up directly in the middle of the madness. He didn't need her having another breakdown so soon. The least he could do, was bring her to a more comfortable setting.

So, that's what he did. In one move, he'd scooped the unconscious female into his arms – goodness, she was so light! - and headed back towards her bedroom. Once he'd placed her upon the mattress, he was left at another impasse. What next?

His shadow had come out again. After surveying the scene outside in appreciation, and a hint of sadness, at not having been apart of the bloodshed, it was now at his side, waiting for its Master's next actions. Looking around the living space, flexing a fist and enjoying the feel of a proper working appendage once more, he made up his mind.

It was finally time to go exploring.

Since he'd been fully restored to his former glory, he was able to summon and play his own music, old melodies of a bygone era filtering through the air. Ah, how long he'd waited for such control, though he had to admit, in spite of his earlier experience...there was a minor touch of emptiness, at not handling the actual radio in his hands. But, oh well. He'd try it out for himself another time, perhaps. At this moment, he was free to peruse Beth's domicile. His partner had been more than happy to join him, as he started by opening up one of the bins she had stacked along the wall.

Hmm...there were thin, small cases within, piled high, bearing colorful images upon their fronts. They held discs; what they were for, he had no clue. Oh, wait – they mentioned music. Were these like records? Yes, they did seem similar, only smaller. They were also with unusual titles.

How so? Oh, things like bad reception having something to do with the alphabet, while Wisconsin was seemingly known for suffering. Or a man visiting Highway 61. Other strange names, about fruits fornicating with a state. Somebody must have been a bit tipsy writing that. Another disc, titled after that same state, though in relation to a business. Hmm, when did this particular species of avians become associated with melodies?

There was also an assembly line of fright with a notable starting point. As well as a 'Stone Temple', that could apparently be commandeered. Also, contrary to popular belief, babies in the womb did not bring about spiritual enlightenment and peace.

Even more discs with bizarre labels. Huh. In light of what he'd just witnessed with that vile soul...yes, he could concede, some displays of power were rather unappealing, falling into over-confident bravado as opposed to actual strength. Then, a rather crude play on a nursery rhyme, leading into the springtime of youth. And finally, some clever wordplay on a name via spelling, in regards to rhythm, and maritime-based devices. Why that color, though...? Those were just some of the titles that stood out. Odd.

A couple stacks of books were piled in, too. They contained both strips reminiscent of newspaper comics – like the one about the boy and his toy tiger – as well as black and white illustrations, of varying quality and styles, which were far more detailed. Some were thick and small, with unknown characters written out; possibly, a language he didn't understand. Others were thinner and larger, with graphics and titles reminiscent of alternatively-twisted fairy tales, or plain blatant violence.

Yes, a few of them were rather gruesome, weren't they? He wouldn't have guessed the woman to be into such content...perhaps she was holding onto them for someone else. Like that loudmouth she'd socialized with earlier.

There were more miniature records as well, though these were in larger cases than the first batch he'd come across. They bore pictures upon them that were akin to snapshots, or photographs, albeit in color. They were all of living, breathing people. Oh, these had something to do with the picture shows? Again, the summaries and monikers stood out.

Such as...more fruit-related entertainment? No, not quite – this was seemingly a comedy, about drug use. Huh. At least nobody was getting frisky. Next, black and white, with red. Was this about ghosts? No, it seemed the main lead was some sort of hero. Odd garb for a do-gooder. Then, lots of pink. What did being a cheerleader have to do with anything?

Further down the list...storms in paradise? Why were guns involved? Wait, never mind – this was apparently another humorous affair, involving war. How so? Followed by some madman, offing women, in particular, with his car. Looks like those speed traps were good for something, though the listed victims...left much to be desired.

Something about a holiday, which was popular in his neck of the woods. Oh, it was about murdering babysitters. Nightmares on a street referencing a tree? Big whoop, there were probably a lot of those, seeing as it was such a common name. Ah, also about murder. Oh, one about superstitions. Huh, okay...more killings, this time on a boat, and in the Big Apple. Sensing a theme here...

Again, the content of these items was questionable. At this point, it seemed safe to assume that all of them belonged to Beth alone – why would she hold on to so many things for someone else? If so, that was very intriguing, even if he'd never follow up on exploring any of it – movies had never been his forte, for one. Looks like the naive maiden had a potential dark side. But then, why hadn't she been able to handle what had just happened? What was the difference to viewing any of these forms of media, and his dispatching of that pathetic meat sack? Inquiring minds would like to know.

The next bin, was full of more clothing. Nothing exciting there. So, he moved on to the shelf. This time, he was able to face it at his full height, no longer requiring his assistant's assistance, or to attempt using his abilities in a potentially failed endeavor. Like the instance with the chair. As more classical swing tunes drifted about, he began surveying the layout before him.

A portrait to the left had immediately caught his eye. He ignored the black box beside it, with a makeshift yellow strap out of paper wrapped around, labeled 'SEAL'. It was seemingly empty, so it was of no concern. No, he was interested in the picture staring back at him.

It featured a woman, with short salt and pepper-hued hair, shining brown eyes, and...a large, warm smile. How lovely. This was somebody who could wear one well. Her teeth were white and even, her face small and heart-shaped. She looked so joyful and bright...and oddly familiar, too?

He couldn't quite place it at that moment, but okay. Whoever she was, she must have been important to Beth, seeing as it was the only photograph she had in her room. Based off of what he'd viewed her reading on her computer that one time, and the materials she'd kept around, perhaps she was a famous figure that was looked up to.

There were a couple of thick-covered tablets on the shelf as well, with what were soon discovered to be writing utensils beside them. They were filled with sketches, of different, varied characters. Some, he recognized from the cartoon books in the bins. Others were entirely new. So, Beth liked to draw, as well? He had no real interest in those sorts of arts, but in his opinion, she wasn't half-bad. At least the recreations resembled their sources.

Her plushies were the last thing he examined, doing his best to avoid disturbing the unconscious woman sprawled out among them. Again, some of them were copies of the figures from her comics – a pink haired girl in red, a blue haired male in white, with a piece of what looked like jawbone on his face, a little yellow creature with a zigzag tail, and flushed cheeks. Others were more basic – a cat, a couple of dogs, ugh, and even a bunny.

Besides that, there wasn't much else of interest in the room. Her pill bottles were labeled with names he could barely pronounce, for issues he could have cared less to understand. The rest of the books on her shelf were either lined and blank, for writing, or novels he had no desire to skim through. The empty cardboard boxes were mostly branded with what appeared to be food companies. The closet and dresser were filled with more of, you guessed it, clothes.

The posters on her walls bore more imagery, akin to the smaller cases, though again, they were still confusing. Now that he was fully focusing on them...what did men in jumpsuits and masks have to do with knitting and pentagrams? Who was that peach-haired girl, with the red horns and matching scythe, bathed in blood? No other objects to pique his attention were to be found.

Well, what then? He'd gone outside, to look at the clock – it was a bit after one a.m. The television in the parlor was still busted, which was just fine by him. One of the few pieces of 'modern' technology he was aware of, for...reasons, he'd rather not dwell on. He wasn't about to tinker with it any further, the noisy thing. All talk and no substance.

The couch was still a couch, albeit slightly stained. Same with the low table. The walls and floors had borne the brunt of his wrath, along with the viscera. Out the windows, he could see the parking lot, with all the vehicles. They'd certainly come far, from his heyday. Even in his later residence, he didn't recognize these designs. Then again, he didn't drive to begin with. Too much hassle. Walking served him just fine, when he wasn't in a hurry. That's where teleportation came in.

From there, he made his way to the kitchen. He was decently full, so there was no need to worry about food. He did take the opportunity to rifle through Beth's cabinets and drawers – mostly, they contained plates and cups, a few pots and pans, cutlery.

One though, beside what was supposed to be coffee grinds in a clear plastic container, had a large bottle of amber-colored liquid, bearing an illustration of what appeared to be some sort of red devil spitting fire. This was what she had drinking the night after her dream, and the phone call. Upon opening it and taking a sniff, he was greeted by something both strong, and sweet. It was a sort of spirit, obviously, and he had to admit, whatever his personal tastes, he was curious.

So, he'd unscrewed the cap, pulled out the stopper, and grabbed a small mug. Pouring out just a sliver into the bottom, he had himself a swig. Immediately, he'd recognized the flavor of whiskey, which wasn't bad...

...and also cinnamon. Instantly, he'd put the bottle back, and nearly threw the cup into the cabinet once more. It wasn't that he couldn't handle it, far from that. No, it simply...didn't sit well.

Finally, he'd poked through the bathroom. There wasn't much to see. It was small. There was a toilet and tub, with soaps and tubes on a hanging wire rack. Water came out from both the bottom, and a top piece connected to a flexible silver cord. The laundry basket was in here as well, along with a sink, the countertop scattered with various items. A hairbrush, comb, perfume – the basics.

Her cabinet to the side wall held the first aid kit, plus some small wrapped objects he couldn't identify – the first seemed to be like a tube with a rounded end, while the other was a soft, folded square of cottony material, with one side bearing a sort of adhesive. What purpose could these things possibly serve? There was also makeup in plastic bags. Huh, but she never wore any. Why did she keep it, then?

That was it. There was nothing more to be done. He'd explored the whole of her abode. And it was still thirty minutes to two o'clock. All he could do from here, was wait for his human pet to rouse from her sudden slumber. How absolutely thrilling.

Eventually, as much as he'd appreciated the familiarity of nostalgia, he began to yearn for something fresh. That blasted yet beloved radio was calling to him once again. Fine, he'd already taken a few chances poking around through Beth's possessions. And like hell he was really going to be deterred from enjoying himself by something as silly as a faded, tarnished, wannabe memory. It had no place in his thoughts, let alone collective consciousness, no matter if it had served as one of the triggers to his acting upon Beth's behalf earlier.

Her behalf? No – it was entirely for himself that he'd done any of it. To preserve his territory. She'd just happened to be caught in the crossfire, as a lure for his victim. Her wide-eyed innocence must have attracted the scum, drawn in by the temptation of purity and naivete, easily hoodwinked and claimed for oneself. A sweet, demure, moldable prize.

Hmm...did that mean, that he saw her, in any such similar way? Surely that descriptor had to come from somewhere, yes?

He'd slammed on the mental brakes so hard, his teeth had practically chipped, grinding upon each other in a wide, tight grin. Absolutely not. She was prey, yes, but for a different purpose. Once she had returned to the land of the living, then...the real fun could begin. She stood at the precipice of the greatest endeavor she'd ever be undertaking in her feeble little life – it all depended on how she rolled the dice. He'd make the offer, but it was on her whether or not she wanted to play, let alone nicely.

With that settled, his focus returned to the device upon the shelf. Bringing it down in a gentle grasp, he proceeded to place it on the table beside the bed, as he'd seen his host do, before turning it on with a soft click. His shadow's gaze widened, as a new song came through the speakers – one soon identified as being about the falling rain, and a broken heart. This would have been more fitting earlier in the week, minus the emotional aspect.

As the tune continued to play, his sharp, red-eyed gaze slowly drifted over towards the unconscious female upon the mattress. He had to look very closely, just to see her breathing – her breaths were faint and shallow, almost impossible to note under the bulk of her dark sweater. The design upon her hand was prominent, as said appendage currently rested atop her abdomen.

What a strange image to willingly carve into one's body, in note because of her lack of mirroring such expressions as the one displayed. Just whose smile was that meant to be, anyway? It looked like a man's.

A tick in his temple then. Well, it certainly couldn't hold a candle to his own. Satisfied with his conclusion, the creature took in the rest of her battered appearance.

She really had been fighting for her life, hadn't she? The bruises and blood to her features certainly told a story, as had the screams she'd graced his hearing with. Although her male assailant had taken most of the damages at his hands, there had been a few small marks here and there to be noted upon his form. Beth may have been timid, but it was obvious, she had struck back with all she could muster.

Oh, his thoughts were starting to expand then. What a sight it would have been to see! The reserved, withdrawn woman, clawing and tearing about like a cat on moonshine. Nothing quite brought out the true zest in a human, like the thought of their impending doom. Especially in those who seemed far from capable of such actions. He'd only caught the very tail end of things – when that vermin had been just about ready to...well...

Would he have actually killed her, if he couldn't have her? Or was it all just a front, to wear her down into accepting his grotesque wants and touches? He had been so determined to leave a mark on him, yes, but had ultimately failed. Perhaps he had actually lacked real conviction and drive in his choices, thus rendering him nothing more than another useless face to add to his body count.

If he'd actually succeeded in harming Beth, in some way or another, beyond what was already visible...

A surge then; the radio volume had suddenly shot up, to near ear-shattering decibels. It was blasting a new melody about a green river, and barefoot girls dancing in the moonlight. How bizarre. His shadow nearly flattened itself against the wall in surprise, at its Master's unexpected lashing out. Somehow, Beth did not start – that fall must have been pretty powerful. Releasing a carefully contained sigh, he proceeded to lower the sound to a reasonable level.

It didn't matter anymore. The lunkhead was dead, Beth was alive, and he was back to full standing. That's all that he cared about here. His objectives were successfully obtained.

So, wait then...he would have been upset, if the daftly compassionate woman hadn't made it out alive?

A loud growl then, as his heated gaze roved across her stationary figure once more. She really needed to hurry and wake up already! Granted, he could have performed the deed himself, but again...knowing her, she was liable to have a heart attack, seeing him standing over her, no matter how charming he may have attempted to appear as. Better for her to rouse organically instead. Then, she could take him in on her own time...and make her decisions from there.

Hopefully, for her sake, and his enjoyment, they were the right ones.

And so, the wee hours of the morning rolled on, as the demon waited with mildly bated breath. He could afford to be patient a little longer. There was a whole new world out there, ready to be claimed under his hand. Things were finally looking up, in his favor.

Soon enough, so would she.

…...

“...mm...”

Flashes of brutal, heated imagery and sensations, playing out through her mind's eye. The slam of a body into solid ground. The shine of a blade. The strike of a fist. The drip and tang of blood upon her tongue. The skip of a heart. The rush of adrenaline. The sickening touch of a foreign hand.

And...red. So much red, she was practically swimming in it. Then, a flash of jagged gold, and a low rumble in her hearing, followed by static. So much, it was almost overwhelming. Laughter and jeers, cheers, and...a haunting, disjointed tune.

Finally, that voice. Taunting her, with vocals she couldn't quite place...and wasn't sure she should have been listening to. “You poor dear...”

A sudden give. Beth had come to, feeling the crease of a soft bed beneath her seemingly weighted body. No, she wasn't being held down – it was just the gradual return of solidity to her form, as she awoke with a start, gaze flying open, to take in the sight of her ceiling overhead.

Her room. She was back. Somehow, after everything that had happened. But...how had she gotten here?

The last coherent thought in her head...what was it? Beth was struggling to recall; it almost seemed as though there were some sort of mental block in place, refusing to allow her taking that final step into recollection and confirmation. Why? What could she have seen that was so horrible as to -

Then, the gasp, as she shot up from the mattress. Immediately, the surge of pain and dizziness. Her face was swollen, and her vision was unsteady. But that was not her primary concern.

What she was focused on, was the fresh memory of a strange, almost garish figure, tearing through the attacker who had come barreling into her abode, with the full intent of claiming her heart, her body, her life, or all of the above. She had been saved...but at what cost?

“Ah, there we go! Welcome back, my girl! Goodness, but you can certainly sleep!” Instantly, her veins went cold. No...it couldn't be.

Slowly, with halting, stilted motions, Beth's head turned, towards the corner near the door. Where her little friend had always been resting prior. However, what she saw instead...

He...he's real? He's actually...real? There, staring back at her, was none other than the strange creature-man. The being who had once, been walking on four legs, able to fit into her arms with ease. Somehow...he had changed, into this startling being, both a savior and a nightmare, rolled into one. And she still wasn't certain how to respond.

Well...first things first. No matter how frightful the final visions swirling about her head, Beth had to acknowledge that fact. She couldn't deny it: if he hadn't stepped in, she would have been toast. In spite of his harsh methods, she was alive, to see another day. And, as screwed up as it might have been to admit...she was grateful to him. If she had awoken, to the sight of that monster in human flesh towering over her instead...this was the lesser of two evils, for the time being.

Her small buddy...wasn't so small anymore. And jeez, but did he pack a punch!

So, with a shuddering breath, Beth carefully swung her legs over the edge of the bed, to rise up on those same unsteady gams. She had to know for certain. The pain wracking her body was all too clear an indicator as to the answer, but she still needed that final confirmation. A step towards him, and then another. And another.

She had no clue as to what his reaction would be here. For all she knew, he was just waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and end her existence as well. On the other hand, though...she'd been taking care of him for nearly a week, prior to the events of this night. So hopefully...that would work out in her favor. Even as intimidating as his stature was, she could still see, to a certain degree, the companion she'd grown so used to having around, quirks and all.

Oh, the way she looked at him. A mixture of fear, disbelief...and something else, that he couldn't quite place. It was unusual; an emotion that was usually reserved for others far from his status. Almost as though...

...she were relieved to see him.

In a few more moves, she was standing before him. Seeming to sway slightly in place, but other than that, and her visible injuries, she appeared fine. Or, about as stable as one could expect, having been through what she had. Swallowing quietly, he was slightly surprised when, instead of a word passing her bloody lips...a hand had extended, towards his form.

Ah-ah-ah. Not happening. Not now. Not if he had a say in things.

It was only when she was less than an inch away from brushing her fingers over his chest, that he'd finally reacted. In one swift motion, he'd grabbed the appendage, causing her to noticeably start. There it was, the conclusion to her inquiry. His larger hand, wrapped around her own, holding it up in a firm, though not painful grip.

He was real. This was all real. It wasn't a dream. Everything that had happened, up to this point...had culminated, to bring about this night of mayhem and revelations. Monsters truly did exist, and they came in all forms.

And, of all things...Beth may have just invited the most dangerous of them all, into her life. What even was her luck anymore??

Chapter 17: Final Girl

Chapter Text

Another few seconds of silent contact. It was only when he felt the hesitant tremble of her hand, stemming from her lifted wrist, that the male realized...he hadn't yet let go.

With a quick slip and jerk away, he released her from his grasp, allowing his arms to tuck behind his back once again. Beth continued to stare, for a couple more seconds, before lowering her arm as well. Her heart was skipping like a stone across water.

Where did they go from here? He was surveying her, just as intently as she him, though the intentions going through his head were most likely far different from her own. They weren't even similar species! He'd just killed a man with his bare hands! Beth was attempting to find her words, unsure how to string them together, even as she knew what she needed to say. The lines just wouldn't form; she kept tripping over the syllables mentally.

After a few further moments of muddled pondering in a scrambled mind, Beth was finally able to speak up. “...what are you?”

Well. That didn't sound rude at all! Immediately, she was backpedaling. “I – I mean, uhh – I'm sorry, you're – I know who you are, just...you're not the same now. And, umm, I...” Once again, the apologies were present. She was always so quick to jump away and retract, as if constantly expecting to be on damage control.

If he had taken any offense to her blathering though, he was quite skilled at not showing it. In fact, if she could have read his thoughts, she'd have seen that, indeed, this was not the case. He'd expected her to start from somewhere along those lines. After all, he was certainly something to behold, if he did say so himself.

He let out a low chuckle. “Oh, wouldn't you like to know. Why don't you take a guess, hmm?”

Hearing this, Beth felt another jarring thump in her chest. Obviously, he wasn't normal. But, that wasn't much of a beginning to go off of. How many things existed under that header, in terms of the supernatural? That was the most she was aware of. He wasn't human. He'd once been an animal, but that was no longer the case.

Some quiet pondering, before she decided to take a shot. “Uhh...a type of shapeshifter?” Another laugh, though this one was a bit more pronounced, as he shook his head.

“No, though I do bear such an ability. It's merely limited to one form, as you are well acquainted with. Go on, try again. It shouldn't be too hard to understand.” Okay, that was out. What other monsters existed, that bore any sort of similarity to him?

Hmm...he ate people, or at least parts of them, and had, at one point, taken the form of a deer. But, her knowledge of the paranormal wasn't the strongest. Aside from slasher flicks and run-of-the-mill ghost stories, she had nothing in terms of info to draw from. If not something that could specifically assume other identities, then...what else could he possibly be? A cold sweat was starting to creep down a throbbing temple. Considering his attributes, and how horrifying they'd been to witness, the next train of thought upon her mind...

A hard swallow this time. “Are you...the Devil?” That was all she could come up with. He'd called it basic, and...what could possibly be more clear-cut?

Now, he was wagging a finger, though still shaking his head. His smirk was smug. “Close, but no. There's only one of him, and I...do not quite fall under that category.” A slight flash, and narrowing of his gaze then. “However, we do hail from the same territory.” Beth felt herself tense. So...he was a Hell-being, at least. But, he wasn't the head honcho. Something beneath that, then? Really? This guy, under somebody? After what she'd seen? Well, what were the fiery pits populated with?

Another pause. Then... “...well, you're some sort of demon. You have to be.” And a strong one, at that.

With this third offering, she finally received a nod. “Ding-ding-ding. We have a winner. It's a simple categorization, no fancy titles, but yes. That is what you would consider me. Though, I do bear some unique qualifications, more so than most. I have been a resident of the Infernal's realm, for quite some time. And, due to some...unforeseen circ*mstances, I have now found myself amongst your kind yet again.”

Huh? 'Once again'? “How...did you get here? Were you...summoned, or something? Like, through a ritual?” Wasn't that how it worked?

And now he was back to the refuting. “No. You could say...my hand was forced. It was either return of my own accord, or suffer the consequences. And, I have no interest in giving up everything that I've achieved, so this temporary stopover was the best bet, out of my available options. Really, my only option. But, it worked out in the end. I mean...”

He lowered his head slightly, casting a heavily shaded stare in Beth's direction. For some reason, her heart was starting to pound again, the beats thudding through her ears. She could feel them starting to burn too, along with her cheeks. That look - was it meant to be encouraging, a warning...or possibly, something else entirely? “That's how I met you.”

She had to turn away then. It was too intense! Eye contact wasn't her strong suit, and with a gaze like his, that only made it worse. The emphasis he placed upon those words, as well! He was either going for a reaction, or...this was just generally how he presented himself. Actually, considering her past interactions with him as that deer? Perhaps she was right on the money with both of them.

“Uhh...well, I guess...it's nice to meet you...?” What else could she say here? It only seemed fitting, to be at least somewhat polite. He hadn't hurt her yet – on the contrary, as stated before, she owed him, for rescuing her. The most she could do, was offer some sort of gratitude.

And...it wasn't as though she didn't mean it genuinely, either. No matter how messed up it might have been to admit.

“Y-You...saved me. I don't know why, but...I do appreciate it. If it wasn't for you, I'd...I'd have...” Beth couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, even if the words were short and blunt. I'd have died. So instead, she chose the alternative, of forcing her eyes to meet his, bearing a genuine sincerity in her next statement. “Thank you.” There was no smile to be found, as usual, but a warmth nonetheless was exuded. Somehow, these words struck him a bit harder than he expected.

The stare she was giving him...she truly believed in what she was saying. To her, in this moment, he was a godsend. Him, one of Hell's most infamous residents! How did it feel, to be regarded in such a manner – to have his violence taken as helpful, necessary, positive? He had effectively saved a life; had become a sort of, at most, antihero. What was it like, to be truly wanted this way?

To be wanted...by another...

“But...what do you mean by 'yet again'?” Ah, yes. That troublesome question. As much as he'd have preferred to ignore it completely, it was one aspect of his past that would never change. He could only minimize its influence. Stepping around her, to walk out the bedroom door, he waved a hand through the air, as if either brushing her off, or gesturing to follow. Beth jumped slightly at the motion, before trailing after him. Her gait was a bit shakier, with a gap – he was taller than her, with a wider stride.

“A long time ago, I was like you. I resided among the mortals. You would have called me...human. Then, like any other, the end came along. And here I am now, in this present form. Though, I have no complaints.” His ever-present smile was gleaming, as he made his way back towards the living area. Being dead did have its perks, considering he'd been a force to be reckoned with while alive. So, in the great beyond...he wasn't just the monster they saw on the surface.

He was worse.

Beth tilted her head, absorbing this new information. Demons could be human? Well, she supposed...it made some sense? She'd never heard of such a thing before, but then again, she'd never been religious. Perhaps, based off of what he was saying here...souls, upon their arrival to Hell, transformed into unholy beings? Since they were meant to be condemned, it was rather fitting. They adjusted to embrace their cursed fate, as opposed to merely remaining basic spirits.

“I s-see...” Briefly, Beth had to wonder: if he'd used to be living, just what sort of man had he been, in his life, to have wound up as he was now? An involuntary shudder – perhaps it was better if she didn't know. The things he was capable of...did not hint at anything favorable.

And, as they reached the parlor, Beth was reminded of that fact. Her jaw dropped, color draining from her face, upon seeing the state of the room. She was about ready to pass out all over again.

The blood, splattered upon the walls and wooden floor. The gore, as far as her eye could see. All that, from just one person?? The severed limbs, scattered along with the torn out organ, lying half-eaten a foot away from the remaining torso and head. It was a gruesome, vile mess – and it was strewn entirely across her parlor! A faint squeak was escaping from her throat – the most of a sound she could manage – as the now labelled demon passed her swiftly. He was surveying his handiwork with a pleased hum.

“Ah...another successful hunt. Though, I daresay, the flavor is a tad...lacking. It seems as though this particular character didn't bother to take very good care of himself. A waste of good meat.” He stopped, picking up what was left of the heart, turning it in his grasp before allowing it to drop back down with a loud squelch. “Though, I suppose, as a starter course...it will do.”

What the frick-frack was he babbling about now?! Coming back to the current moment, Beth scrambled to a halt beside him, swinging her arms in frantic desperation. Whoops, don't go tumbling over there! “What are you saying? You can't seriously be happy with this! Look at this place!” She let out a wail, cut off by a sudden gag as her foot brushed against a bloody puddle. She had to cover her mouth for a few seconds, before speaking again. “You turned my home into a Jackson Pollock painting!” Minus the body parts...still, though!

In response, he co*cked his head, obviously not catching the reference. But that didn't matter. The point was, he couldn't possibly be alright with having her domicile in this state! Forget the fact that a brutal, unexplainable murder had occurred here! This wasn't acceptable! Would he pick and peck at the pieces left behind, like his own personal buffet?? More to the point, he couldn't stay here, not as he was now! What, did he expect to just...live with her, like some sort of abnormal roommate?! She'd had enough of those for one lifetime, but at least they'd still been human!

Actually, considering everything he'd told her so far...maybe she wasn't that far off?

“No. Nonononono! You are – you're not just going to leave my home like this!” Wow, where was this sudden streak of courage coming from? Only a few minutes ago, she'd been shaking where she stood, at this guy's mere presence! But now, she was attempting to throw her weight around? Tonight was just full of surprises.

He raised a brow, as, even with the stuttering and a shudder to her steps, Beth marched up, jabbing a finger towards him. “Look. I – I am thankful, for your assistance. But, that's as far as it can go. You've already upended everything, and I – I can't deal with this any longer! You – You need to – to fix this, and then...you have to leave. I'm sorry.”

At this, Beth felt a pang in her chest. She could still see, even as she took in the towering demon-man, the face of her defenseless, fluffy friend. It was flickering across, like an image being poorly broadcasted. She had to admit...she didn't like being so forceful, and pushing him away. But, what was she really expected to do here? Just keep him around, like some sort of -

Suddenly, a cold chuckle. Without missing a beat, Beth felt the prickling start behind her neck, trailing down her spine. That sound...did not represent anything good.

In less than a second, he was leaning in with that taunting, frightful stare, promising things that she couldn't even begin to imagine, but had no doubt whatsoever he'd be able to pull off. “Oh, really? And just what, pray tell, are you going to do about it?”

A solid gulp then, of the lump about an inch wide, that had just settled itself in her throat. Beth...really had no answer here. What could she even do? Chase him away? With scripture? Holy water? He'd be on her like white on rice before she could even utter a verse, let alone procure the materials. He could tear her apart in a nanosecond, faster than her prior assailant. She'd be stupid to think otherwise, no matter what might have happened between them before.

Now, he was walking away, still smiling as he looked over her living space. “Mmm...yes. I've actually grown rather fond of this hovel, plain and cramped though it might be.” Oh gee, thanks. Excuse her for not living in a mansion! She was dang lucky she'd been able to procure this place to begin with, what with where she'd originally started from! “You see...for the time being, I cannot return to my former home. So, as of this moment, your residence...is now my base of operations.”

Beth didn't think her jaw could unhook any further, at every new surprise and shock being thrown her way tonight. But by now, she should have seen this coming. She should have known, that things would work out in such a way, to corner her into such a trying and horrifying situation. So, here she was, cursing the stars she was born under mentally, as she struggled to find another way out.

As she wracked her rattled brain for any sort of solution, she didn't catch sight of the fact that her otherworldly companion, was watching her in silent study. He was marveling slightly at the stress lines furrowing her forehead, the sheen to her bruised skin, the way the stud beneath her lips spun back and forth, as she bit at the base. Curious habit. Really, what was the problem here?

It was all too apparent, that the woman was barely managing on her own as it was, if tonight and the last few days were anything to go off of. He still had no idea how she could even afford to pay for this residence, let alone all her extra expenses! Who knew what sort of business she was involved in?

Considering her nature...most likely something easy to handle, nothing flashy or of substance. Not to be rude, it was merely his personal observation. Why would someone so flighty put themselves out there so openly? Most likely, she wasn't making much. On top of that, she was a target, pushed around, and just straight-up lonely.

A twitch at that last statement. Moving on.

The point was...he needed new territory. However, the owner of said territory wasn't the most stable, no matter everything she'd offered him. But, he could still use her. For one thing, it might be suspicious if she were to simply vanish into thin air, no matter if he could arrange it so she'd never be found. It appeared that, despite her distant nature, she had at least one other contact, who'd probably kick up a fuss if something were to happen. Should it come to light that demons were walking the Earth so openly? Sure, he wanted his fun, but for the time being, it had to stay under the radar - no leaving more of a trail than was necessary. He was willing to reason, before pulling the trigger. That last sap had simply drawn his ire past the point of no return.

On top of that, in spite of her strange quirks...she was entertaining. And, with a little more structure, she could become quite the polished asset to his current itinerary. All she required...was a push. And, wasn't that what he was best at? Bringing others to jump over the edge, right into his open arms, dragged down into the clutches of eternal servitude and beneficial – to him, anyway – damnation? What really was one more soul to his chain?

Beth. Beth, Beth, Beth. Unassuming Beth. Sweet Beth. The put-upon oddball, who'd welcomed him in just as widely, without asking for anything in return. This was where they differed greatly. But, he could at least make things more worth her while, right? It's what he was best at. Nobody could set up arrangements quite like he could. He hadn't wound up in employment, both above and below, for no good reason. And he always delivered on his end of the bargain.

Plus, nobody was ever smart enough to read the fine print. This would be more of the same here.

“Hmm...you seem to be in quite the conundrum.” Whoops, hadn't meant to startle her that badly! Beth had leapt nearly a foot in the air, letting out a cry at the pull on her sore and tired body. Giving him a look of exasperation – oh yes, that was fun to see! - she let out a groaning growl of frustration, only to retract it somewhat, taking in the expression to his features. That face...what did that mean?

He chuckled, before making his way back over. Lifting a hand, Beth let out a yelp – with a puff of smoke, what appeared to be a long staff had just materialized, with a large, rounded red top. He started tapping the center, and as it turned around slightly in his grasp, Beth took note, of the mesh top...and blinking red eye beneath. Instantly, it clicked, as he brought it to his lips. “Ahem! Testing, testing!”

“What, what, what? Whaddya want? Not so loud – we're dead, not deaf!” It was some sort of sentient microphone. A few scattered laughs then, answering another of the questions Beth had mused on prior: all the extra noises, had been stemming from him.

“Ah, that's better. Now, that I'm certain I've made myself clear...why don't we get down to the nitty-gritty?” Beth could feel herself tense at this. His demeanor had changed. He was no longer quite so teasing, though the intimidation factor still remained. “It seems as though you're in a bit of a bind...and I might just be able to help you out.”

She shifted her head slightly, in reflex, and winced at the sharp spasm that shot up her neck. Okay, not that direction. “Help...? Y-You want to help me? How?” At this, she swung an arm out, motioning towards the scenery surrounding them. “Unless you're g-gonna get rid of - ”

He started laughing, before positioning the microphone beneath her chin, forcing her head back. Oh, ouch. That still didn't feel the greatest. “Dear...I can do much more than that.” Another rush of heat to her cheeks – no pet names, please! Not from him, someone who, at one point, had been almost completely akin to such a thing! “I've been around you long enough to observe...that you could do with further assistance than on one front alone.”

Beth's heart was throbbing in an irregular beat – she was absolutely certain of that – as slowly, he drew back his staff, to instead bring his face in closer. Jeez, no! Don't do that, either! She was bending away slightly, doing her best to keep her breathing even and steady, lest she accidentally gasp on him, or something else to potentially set him off. “Wh-What...are you trying to say?” Was he seriously implying that she couldn't take care of herself? She'd been doing just fine, before he'd showed up!

Right? Sure, she'd been living alone, juggling her double life, attempting to erase the past and live only for the daily hopes, sometimes fleeting, of a better future, but that did not mean -

“I'm saying, it's painfully obvious, to anyone with eyes, that your existence...could do with a bit of freshening up, if you get my drift.” No, she didn't, and it must have been clearly displayed across her face, for he let out a sigh, spinning the mic slowly in his grasp. It was grumbling, while he was pondering. Beth too, was thinking it over, but with far more suspicion. This guy had gone from being a helpless, albeit somewhat snarky seeming wild animal, to a bloodthirsty if opportune hunter. And now, presenting himself as some sort of fully beneficial entity, despite his background? How did any of this even work?

Suddenly, the yank. Beth let out a squeaking yelp, as in one move, he'd shoved her flush up against him. “After all, if I hadn't shown up when I did...you wouldn't be here, would you? And this discussion would be going far differently, ha ha ha! Dead men tell no tales, after all!” Oh, lovely thought. A long arm was draped around her shoulders, her burning face nearly buried in the side of his chest. Her heart was hammering – what was he on about now??

At the same time, though...he did have a point. It was clear: she'd been walking with her head in the clouds, for how long, thinking that things would never return to the way they were before. Unfortunately, it was all too possible, for it to fall apart, and her to get sucked back down into the undertow of failure and regret. To become that person she'd kept under lock and key for how many years, fighting to ignore the face lurking in the shadows, every time she looked in the mirror.

She wasn't strong. She was just really good at faking it until she made it. And after tonight, she couldn't deny it any longer: she still wasn't safe. Not from misery, or herself.

So then, what could he grant her, to fix that? And, more importantly...

“Why do you...want to help me, of all people?” Beth wasn't looking to squander her second chance at life, and it seemed that, for a demon, he was quite intelligent and, dare she say...reasonable? At least, when he wasn't talking about taking over her home. So, no matter how scared and confused she might have been, her best bet here...was to keep him talking, and figure out as much as she possibly could, for better outcomes to her current situation. She wasn't in control, but she didn't have to be helpless, either.

Another laugh. “Why does anybody do anything?” How was she supposed to answer? She could only speak for herself! “Sheer, absolute boredom!”

Beth wanted to slap herself. Of course. Of course a freaking demon would say something like that. It wasn't out of any goodness in his heart that he was planning to undertake this task! “Right, right. S-So, you don't actually care. I'm just a toy to you.” Beth hadn't meant for the words to come out as harshly as they had, just...at the same time, how was she really meant to take this? Who would be actually happy to be used and abused?

To be underneath everybody, just like before? Useful, until she fell apart, like any plaything was want to do from being treated roughly? After being dragged along and beaten down?

For a moment, he froze. A toy, huh...? That's all she really was? He supposed...it made sense. He'd never cared for anything or anyone, beyond what they could offer him, in exchange for his services. Usually, their eternal souls. But here, the word was heavy in his mind. To hear Beth utter it, so sharply resigned and dejected, so openly...as if it were nothing new.

Wouldn't he rather see her accept his idea with a big smile instead?

“Oh, come now! Don't be so discouraged! This can be entertaining for both of us! I can give you things you've only dreamed of!” Another spin of the cane, though this time, he began tracing lines through the air. Strange symbols came forth, along with flickers of orange flames, before fading away into red sparks. Beth's eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing in response. He continued on. “I can make it so that something like this...never happens again. I can make many things happen for you. I can open doors you thought were forever closed. All with just a word.”

Now, Beth had to admit, she was a little curious. Maybe...he didn't just want to use her? No, he most likely did. But, right now, she was in no position to push him away. And, she couldn't lie: the things he was promising...to imagine being safe, from any sort of physical threat, after everything she'd been through? Perhaps, even more than that, too? What would happen...if she said yes? Or, if she let him elaborate, just a bit longer? She'd make him undo this mess, certainly, but then...beyond that, what?

This is either the best thing I could do for myself...or, I'm about to be screwed over majorly. But, no time like the present. Taking in a deep breath, Beth finally answered. “How...would you go about doing that?” A sudden realization then, as she found herself adding on. “And I – I don't even know your name.” She really didn't know much of anything about his person, beyond the parts she'd seen – how could she begin to trust him, when he was still such a stranger?

Yes, yes, yes! This was exactly the response he'd been looking for! She was being drawn in; all he needed was another gentle nudge or two, and she'd be chomping at the bit in no time! The anticipation was almost too much to bear. But, it wasn't unfamiliar. He managed to keep the grin on his face in check, not wanting to give away his position too early. So close, he was so close - !

In fact, even...a light shove probably wasn't the right way to go about things here. A pull was in better order, instead. And that's just what he was about to do.

With a snap of his fingers, the scene was set. “I'm glad you asked!”

Chapter 18: (Don't Fear) The Reaper

Chapter Text

Beth's head was spinning, at the sudden change in decor. Instantly, the dreary, morbid pallor of the parlor had lit up, thanks to the array of torches – torches?? - lining the corners of the walls. More fire? The flames, however, swayed beyond the shades of normal orange. There was electric blue, and even vivid viridian. The mix of colors was nothing compared to the next trick in this showman's book, though.

Now, his shadow had finally materialized. Eagerly, it was stretching away from his form, to slide up directly in front of the stunned young woman with a cackle. She blinked rapidly at the vision. Wait – she recognized this thing, too! It was -

Elongated eyes seemed to sparkle cruelly in their glow, as they took in her own shaken, full gaze. Pushing her backwards, Beth found herself stumbling, right into a high-backed chair – where had that come from? She already had a couch! - almost akin to a throne.

That new dark being was splitting off, into multiple little forms, who were assembling into a quartet that had planted themselves to her right. In their various hands...were an array of instruments? Where was everything all coming from, and why? The following tune was slow, heavy, and mournful. The notes of a violin lingered upon the air, a hissing weep.

What fresh madness is this?! In all her days, never had Beth imagined herself to be sitting front and center to such a lurid performance. And it was only just beginning.

“A-hem! Now hear this! Now hear this!” Immediately, her attentions had shifted, to the dapper figure now standing center stage – uhh, stage? Where had that come from? How was it fitting?? – in the middle of the room. With the mic cane securely displayed in his hand, the male spoke.

“The name's Alastor, sweetheart!” And here came the flush in her cheeks again, mingling with her horror. Stop that already! “Boy, but are you in for a real treat! I don't do this for everyone, so consider it a personalized introduction!” Beth was gaping, as with a twirl of his commanding figure...

...he began to sing.

“Well, you've made a few wrong turns above,

Winding up far down below.

You feel this is the end,

That you're lost and cannot mend,

But there's something that I think you oughta know...”

Suddenly, more snapping. Those little shadow creatures were adding in an extra beat, as the melancholy tune picked up with a flourish.

“Amongst the living and the dead,

Why, there's no need to roll over and cry!

Relax, don't you worry!

All you need is a guide!

And the perfect one, is right at your side...!”

The lyrics were flowing like wine, as the now named Alastor proceeded to swing his mic-cane, in a circular motion towards the arranged torches. From their flames rose individual streams, which then shot across the air, at his command, to swirl around the stationary Beth. At the same time, the still limbs, lying upon the floor, had raised from their spots, to begin a sort of awkward bouncing cha-cha across the bloody puddles. Beth thought her own heart was about to burst, either from her chest, or in it.

She let out a yelp, drawing her arms and legs in closer, though none of the heated strips brushed against her, and the body parts came no closer. The former swayed before her stunned eyes, spinning rapidly and intertwining with one another in a flurry of colors and sparks, before rushing back to where they'd once resided. Through the lingering smoke trails, the redhead jumped from his place atop the makeshift stage, striding towards his unwitting, captive audience. In one second, he'd reached her seated form. Extending an arm towards her, the brunette found herself being yanked onto her feet.

“I can grant you all you want,

I can grant you all you need!

Just give me your hand,

And we'll whip up a plan,

As long as you'll agree, to my deeds!”

Beth was doing her best not to cry out, as she was spun away, without warning. Although his grasp upon her hand was solid, dancing was not her strong suit! Especially here and now! What if she misstepped, or hurled??

Still, she managed to keep herself steady, striking an unexpected pose before being pulled back and dipped down in a pair of thin, but strong arms. Her spine was nearly screaming at the bend, as one leg pointed straight up from the jutting angle. Her heart was racing – a pair of crimson eyes bored into hers, while a starstruck grin was less than an inch away from her own lips.

Then, the moment was over; Beth was shoved backwards, stumbling once more into the chair, brought forward by yet another set of shadow creatures. Gripping at the armrests for dear life, she watched, as Alastor finished the impromptu show with a flourish.

“If you trust in me and do your best,

Your every dream can become real!

Just put me to the test,

For on this, I never jest!

So, my darling...”

His head lowered, as a hand extended. The music gradually faded out...only to be replaced with the familiar static she'd first been introduced to him through. All around them, the scenery seemed to distort and warp, as if shifting with the white noise itself. An involuntary chill descended upon her form as quick as lightning.

Slowly, with a jerky motion, almost like a puppet on strings, his face lifted, to lock eyes with her once more. The lights had dimmed, and the dark orchestra had formed back together as one being, to tower above him in twisted revelry.

The gaze that stared back...was absolutely haunting.

There, in place of his eyes, were a pair of glowing, old-fashioned radio dials. Just like the one on her own device. And, once again, that 'X' upon his brow. About his whole figure, floated more of those unknown symbols and markings from before, also unnaturally illuminated. Beth felt the cold sweat start trailing down her temples, and almost instinctively, she found herself leaning back in her seat. The voice that greeted her then was rough and crackling, low and booming.

“...do we have a deal?”

…...

The static was almost overwhelming. Beth was practically drowning where she sat, as the very fabric of reality itself contorted about her. Those insignias were floating throughout the air, drifting lazily into her vision, close enough for her to touch. But, she dared not move – she was barely breathing, attentions focused entirely on the male before her. The one who had, in but a split second, gone from being a devilishly provoking artist...

...to a full-blown nightmare of an entity.

One by one, the torches began to peter out. Her room was in its original state again, a drab paranormal crime scene. The man straightened his posture; in an instant, he was back to his former standing: that same quirky personage Beth had, admittedly, grown used to, in however long they'd spent together. A wide red stare was fixed on her, as his smile seemed far more...friendly? Was that the right term? He didn't look like something akin to an Eldritch abomination any longer, at least. Though, she was still learning to adjust.

A smattering of applause reached her ears, and Alastor began to bow. It was coming from a fixed point at his side. The crook of his arm, where his mic-cane rested. “Bravo! Bravo! Ya really sold it, Boss! Got that point hammered home like a nail in wood!”

Now the taller demon was waving a hand in dismissal, though obviously preening at the compliments. His shadow too, seemed quite pleased, for its role in the production. Gradually the sounds began to rise around them. Spinning the cane once between deft, sharp fingers, Alastor hushed the speaker, before returning his stare to her. Beth felt her heart skip, as he regarded her once more.

“Well then! I trust that you got the message, loud and clear?” Her head was nodding hastily. It was all too apparent what the point of his little performance had been: to show off just what he was capable of, and what he could very well do for her...should she take him up on his offer.

The guy was a dealmaker. This much was blatant. He was interested in striking up some sort of bargain with her – why, she didn't know. Was it just because of the situation they'd found themselves in together? Though, he'd also mentioned prior that not everyone got the sort of presentation he'd just put on, so...was she just that special? Or unfortunately marked?

And, more importantly...what would he get out of all this?

Beth was dense, she'd be the first to admit it. However, she wasn't entirely stupid. She'd been listening to every line that had passed his lips – and there was a price, in exchange for accepting his services. There always was, but in this case...she was pretty darn certain it involved things nowhere near simple as an exchange of money. Not if legitimate demons were involved.

What mattered here, was that this guy wasn't going to let her get off scot-free, should she agree to his terms. And, depending on what, exactly, it was that he was asking for...agreeing might not be in her best interests. Especially since she had no idea just how far his powers extended.

“If I s-say yes – if,” and Beth made sure to emphasize that last word, just in case he conveniently decided to tune out the rest, “...what would I be giving you...in return?” Swallowing hard, she continued on, hoping her momentarily repaired spine wouldn't fail her now. “T-There's something you want, too...right? I doubt that y-your generosity is cheap.” Even though he had already saved her life, without yet asking for any sort of compensation...

At this, she received a barking chortle of amusem*nt. Guess he'd liked her little quip? “Looks like you can catch on fast, if you put your mind to it.” Wow, thanks. “But yes – the matter of payment. Although...it's not something I'd worry about too greatly.”

Oh, jeez. When he put it that way, with the pointed emphasis, Beth was absolutely positive now: what he was asking for, was more than just a few spare bucks. It was something that she very well might not have been able to give.

Unless the payout was worth it?

“What do you want in exchange?” No use in beating around the bush any further. May as well come right out and say it. This 'Alastor' thought that she wasn't much up top, anyway. Why not prove that she could be blunt and to the point, if necessary? I.e, when her nerves weren't strangling every last word that wanted to fly forth from deep within. She was riding on a momentary high of courage; why not just go with the flow, for as long as it lasted? She'd be getting her answers before she possibly bit the dust.

Another laugh. At least he was in a good mood...? “Ha ha, I see! Getting down to business! Yes, yes. In regards to that...”

His eyes flashed, reflecting a new emotion: desirous superiority. What a combination. “All I ask...is for your assistance. Whenever I require your services. For whatever I need. Anything.” Beth felt her heart drop.

What...the heck did that mean? Basically, he was...asking her to be bound to him? To be used at his leisure, whenever he so chose to call upon her? And to do what? Based off of his outward guise, and the way he held himself...who knew, really? He could have wanted her to clean toilets, or even -

Another jolt of her heart then. Her mind had come to a very ghastly conclusion. To kill for him. She had to fight to hold back the aggressive shaking of her body that threatened to come on.

No. She wouldn't entertain that thought any further. That was a line she wasn't ever going to cross willingly. Her code, down to her very being, was still intact. She would do everything in her power to keep it that way; to prevent that last thread of her soundness from snapping.

At the same time, though... “Just...what can you do, e-exactly?”

Why? Why was she asking this? Hadn't she already decided that his price was far too high for her to pay? On the other hand, though...he hadn't actually said what he'd expected, so for all she knew...her imagination could've been running away with her, as well. This guy seemed to pride himself on being some sort of gentleman; maybe he just had a ton of boring paperwork he didn't want to sift through on a daily basis, and was looking for peons to pawn it all off onto? When she put it that way...

“Anything. Whatever you ask. Just say the word, and it is yours. I can bring your greatest desires to life. Money, fame, power, love.” These were all things within his grasp. Alastor was used to dealing in the various sins of the damned, be they living or dead; he'd gotten quite adept at granting their wishes. It was old hat for him, at this point.

What could she possibly want, that he couldn't achieve? Perhaps after tonight, she'd ask for protection? That, he could provide. Just a few spells in place, and nobody would be able to touch her. She'd just better be prepared for quite the lonely life, heh. Nobody meant absolutely nobody.

Nobody, eh...?

Or maybe, since she was so forlorn, she would ask for a significant other. However, there were no true happy endings, be it on Earth, or in Hell. To force one to bend to your will, all in the name of something so foolish as affection...well, the results were oh so fun to watch, when things eventually went to pieces. Coercion plus companionship would never lead to anything healthy. It was just amusing to see how silly folks could be, all over something as flimsy as the concept of 'love'.

Lucky him, then...romantic attentions had never been front and center in his agenda. After all, he had no interest in the positive, unless it benefitted him, in some way. And oh, but the negative...was just so much more delicious to indulge in. Setting up the pieces, just to see them tumble down, again and again, into the fiery pit of failure. It would never wear out.

Yes...just imagine, this sad sack of a woman, getting her bleeding heart shattered into a million tiny shards. To see her even more broken and forlorn, with never even the faintest trace of joy to ever cross her features.

A pause then. So, he'd still never get to see her smile. Well, at least not by anyone else's doing. But why did it really matter, in the end...?

Anything, huh...? Against her better judgment, Beth was seriously mulling over his words. What could she possibly want? If she had money, she'd only want to give most of it away. Unless that's what she was planning to do here, she didn't need any more of it, no matter the amount. And after everything that had occurred here this evening, like she really wanted to be in the spotlight any further.

Power was also pointless. Beth had no desire to rule over anyone else, like a tyrant. She'd spent most of her life being taught to keep her head down, and her mouth shut. Shoved into a dark corner, away from the sun. Never allowed to shine, to cultivate any sort of potential talent she might've had. Everything she loved, was either mocked, or taken away. Be it by outside forces...or her own two hands. The fact that she'd somehow been able to turn the tables, and write out a whole new ending to her life's script, supposedly set in stone, depending on who you'd talked to...was nothing short of a miracle.

Love too, was out of the question. What was love anyway, if both parties weren't on the same page? Manipulating someone into caring wasn't a real relationship at all. And besides...the few times she'd ever wound up with someone, it had never turned out right, anyway. Either they'd dropped her like a bad habit, because of her issues, or she'd gotten scared and bolted, ending things early. Whichever way it went, it didn't matter. She wasn't meant to be with anyone in that manner.

There was nobody in this world, who would ever be willing or able to put up with or settle for someone as defective as she herself. In such matters, she was absolutely useless. How she'd managed to even attract this sort of attention from such a creature as the one she stood before, was a mystery for the ages. The fates had really lined up, just like so, to allow her and this Alastor a chance encounter with one another.

So then...what was left for her? What could she possibly want, that she didn't have? Something so important, that she'd be more than willing to sign herself over for? Huh, when she put it that way, it almost sounded as though...Alastor were asking for her very soul.

Immediately, a sharp stab to her heart. The beat was already irregular; all this anxiety couldn't have been healthy for it. But right now, she didn't care. Eschewing that last thought...all Beth could see, was an image in her mind's eye.

Maybe...maybe...just maybe...!

“Oh?” The girl before Alastor seemed to be charged with a new energy. No longer was she cowering, or even contemplative; no, now she was standing straighter, aqua eyes trained on his in a resolutely heated stare. She apparently had thought of something...and based off of that look, he had a feeling, that it wasn't the usual run-of-the-mill ask. Something new for him to hear out, and try his hand at? What fun! It wasn't often he got requests like these. “What can I do for you then, darling?”

Ignoring the heat in her face, Beth steeled herself for what she was about to say. “Alastor.” Oh, the way his name had rolled off her tongue...she meant business. How cute, she was being so bold with him now! He was nearly leaning forwards, just to be closer as she spoke with such authority.

Then, the kicker. “Can you...bring back the dead?”

…...

The silence that followed was quite nearly tangible in its weight; the way it had dropped onto the scene like a ten ton curtain. Effectively putting a damper on the current build up and enthusiasm. Immediately, as soon as the words had left her mouth, Beth could practically see the answer reflected back at her.

That look...Alastor wasn't angry. However, the smile he bore to his features was...fixed, at a slight angle, and tense. As though he were attempting not to grind his teeth. He didn't have to say anything, though she knew he would. He wasn't about to let this slide.

“Dear. There are many, many, many things, that I am capable of. All manner of great and terrible, that exist within my grasp. I do not take my dealings lightly.” She knew that. After such a performance as the one he'd put on, it was obvious that his powers weren't just him blowing smoke. He was more than capable of being a savior...or a sad*st.

A faint sigh then, as he leaned back, arms folded behind him. “However. There are certain lines, that even I myself cannot cross. And that, unfortunately...is one of them.”

Damn it. To have those words leave his mouth...really, such an acidic taste they left behind! It wasn't defeat, it was simply the truth. No demon bore such a skill, not even the highest upon high. He could bend existence itself; he'd brought some of the most dominant monsters to their knees, in just a few rounds of head-to-head. He could turn a raging fire into a cool, rushing stream. He could get inside one's mind, mess with their very frequency, and drive them crazy. But, when it came to matters of life and death...

...this was an area where even Angels feared to tread. He could take it away, or even save it, if he so wished. So too, could an Angel. But, when it came to restoring it entirely...it was a no-go.

Once a soul had crossed over, to either side, that was it. There was no recalling it to its prior form. Upon death, you were stuck wherever fate had deemed it appropriate for you to stay. Wherever your life's choices had led you. No matter even if your life had been stolen by supposedly unfair means, like accidents or murder.

Also, it wasn't really a request he'd ever gotten, in all his time down below. A good chunk of the faces trapped in that limbo, or about to be, were there because of the fact that they'd ended the lives of how many others before. They weren't interested in undoing the suffering they'd caused, only in finding their own personal salvation...usually in the form of more sin. To have someone ask him for such a thing...was both flattering, and insulting, all at once.

Especially since, the only example he could think of in regards to a recent death, was that pathetic male he'd just dispatched, for very good reason. If that's who she was wanting to waste both their times on, oh...!

A tick in his brow, smile twitching just slightly as his teeth threatened to scrape against one another audibly. “If you were thinking to revive that pest I went through the trouble of dispatching from our presences...” As he motioned his hand around the still bloody room, with a slight edge to his voice, Beth jumped in sudden realization. Oh no, he had misunderstood - !

“No! No no no! Not him! Definitely not him! Someone else!” Well, if that didn't make her sound like a shining beacon of humanity. But whatever! As much as she hadn't been expecting such an outcome, ultimately...what had been done, was done. And, seeing what he'd very nearly put her through, on top of what had already happened...she certainly wasn't going to risk her neck for some stranger, beyond an unfortunate surface-level encounter.

Besides...she'd had a very specific face in mind for her wish. Somebody who hadn't deserved their fate; whose passing had upended everything in her life that she had ever known. That had only served to mark her as greater prey, at the hands of those who should have been more understanding. But instead, they were nothing more than sycophantic suck-ups, the greatest predators perched high among the branches of a familial tree.

And it was all her fault.

Beth could feel herself practically deflating where she stood. One, just one...that's all she'd have needed. Even if she'd been cursed for all eternity, if it only could have worked out, it would have been worth it. It was so selfish, a mockery in the face of all the damage she'd caused. She hadn't known any better, but in the heat of the moment, had allowed her issues to overwhelm her, come tumbling out in a passionate jumble...

...and this was the result. Attempting to bargain with someone akin to the Devil himself.

“So...you really can't, then. I...I see...” Her previous spirit had been completely sapped. Beth could feel them; those hot, pesky tears, building up in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. Turning away quickly, she wiped furiously at them, blinking harshly as she did so. She would not. She would not cry, and certainly not in front of this...man, demon, deer, whatever he was. She'd given up her right to the waterworks a long time ago.

“Is there anything else you can think of for me to do?” It was quite clear: this young miss had been hinging everything on whether or not he could fulfill this wish. However, that was not why Alastor was asking now. He had no care as to her discomfort. She'd caused him his own little speck of hassle, by reminding him of that grating fact: his limitations, few and far between though they might have been.

He was still looking to get his payment, from this sucker he'd so very nearly reeled in fully on the hook. After he'd gone through so much, just to get to this point...there had to be something else that could be done, in order for him to win this game of tug of war. There just had to be! With all the time they'd spent together? Him, waiting to be restored, while wanting, needing to solve the mystery of this waif-like enigma who had stepped in to change his fate, upon his return to the mortal plane...?

And who, exactly, if not that slimy git, had she wanted to restore? Who could have meant so much, that she'd have been willing to throw herself headfirst into the lion's maw, just to bring them back to life? More questions without answers! This did not bode well for his remaining levels of patience!

“...no.” Her words startled him, if only for a fleeting moment. Had he heard her correctly? That was all she'd had in mind? No worldly desires, no lustful feelings, no greed or gluttony? All she wanted...was the revival of another? “I...I have nothing.” Beth's shoulders were sagging, her body slumping forwards, as she turned away. Her long locks hung in her face, casting deeper shadows to her bludgeoned features, stretching out the lines in her left cheek. “I'm sorry, Alastor...but there's no deal.”

Crickets. There may as well have been a whole field of them, chirping in the stillness that followed those last words. Beth was now leaning against the wall, utterly overcome. There really was...nothing more for her to do here. Aside from getting him to clean up this mess, though she still had no idea how to pull that off, either. And she wasn't about to make a deal just to ensure its completion, too.

Looking over her shoulder once more, she prepared herself to speak, the final words. Perhaps they would be her last, depending on the redhead's reaction. “I a-apologize...for wasting your time. Thank you...for being good to me.”

Well. That wasn't what Alastor had expected to hear. Not at all. Not the lackluster dismissal, certainly. The apologies, he had gotten used to, by this point. Mostly. The gratitude...he was still learning to adjust to. Perhaps, it wasn't so much the thanks that threw him off...

...but the person it was coming from?

Another twitch, this time in his temple. This...was not how things were meant to go. He was supposed to come out on top here! With both the victory of restoration, as well as a new soul to his name – one that he could meld to his tastes and whims, as he proceeded with his new plans for upheaval and chaos, upon the advanced Earth! Ignorant, innocent Beth, she...was throwing everything into utter disarray, and all with a simple word: “No.”

Nobody ever told him no. They couldn't! He wouldn't let them! He always found a way to get them to agree! Or, at least, keep things interesting, before the inevitable end. They never just dismissed him and his offering outright! He hadn't gotten where he was now due to failure and rejection! That was for the weak and simple!

What he wanted, he got! And right now, what – or who – he wanted, needed, more than anything else, between this world and the next, was -

Suddenly, a sharp stabbing twinge, in his left side. Immediately, the drop.

Chapter 19: Violet

Chapter Text

Beth saw him sway before the stumble. Recognized the look of mild surprise upon his face, red eyes widening a tad, smile shifting just slightly, as he started leaning to the left. She knew what that expression meant. After all, it had most likely crossed her own features how many times in the past, when she'd stood up too quickly, and the blood had rushed to her head, causing it to spin.

Even as unsteady as she still was in that instant, the only thing on her mind, was getting to his side, before he tumbled to the floor. Practically sliding into place beside him, bare feet slipping across the wood, she caught his weight against her smaller form with a grunt of effort. Jeez – he was heavy! Then again, considering how he towered over her, she shouldn't have been so surprised.

It happened in a split second. One moment, he was pressing against her. The next, he was adjusting himself with a clear of his throat, stock-straight. One arm was tucked behind his back, while the other was tugging at his tie. As if he hadn't just nearly fallen like a domino.

Darn it...that pain could only have come from one source. Looks like that pesky scratch left behind...was not quite so fully healed as he'd hoped. Then again, he supposed it was to be expected – the wound wasn't just from some run-of-the-mill common thug, or even one of the Overlords he'd clashed with in the past. This was from the head honcho himself. Of course, it was bound to leave a few traces in its wake. But oh...how annoying, and inconvenient!

The grin on his lips was tight, teeth clenched together. Alastor did his best to resist the urge, to grip at the spot under his ribs, like an irritating stitch. But, it seemed that he hadn't been quite so discreet as to his discomfort; his gaze had darted down for but a second, and that's all it took. Instantly, Beth was leaning in, battered face furrowed, a mask of worry.

She knew this was dangerous. It wasn't like before, when he'd been virtually at her mercy as the smaller, put-upon animal. He was a full-fledged creature of darkness now, and could easily have her head, should she displease him even a smidgen. At the same time, though...

All she could see, was the sight of that tiny deer, bleeding out upon the grass, and then sprawled atop her couch and coat. Wrapped up in the white gauze, that lay spread about somewhere or other in her parlor now. And then, of course...

...him, looming over her assailant, hand buried deep within his chest, as he'd torn out his heart with a greedy flourish. Her own skipped at the recollection. Such images...shouldn't have been tied in with those memories. But, for whatever reason, they were. She was associating that brutal rescue, with her own actions to preserve his life, how many days before.

Once again, she wanted to help. No matter the cost to herself. Just what kind of masoch*st was she? Did she have a death wish, or what?

“Beth.” The curt call, reaching her ears. He was still smiling, but the light in his eyes was one of warning. “I'm quite alright. Save your concern for more pressing matters.” At hearing this, she felt a touch of...displeasure?

She couldn't explain it. All it came down to, was that she...didn't like the idea of being pushed away. Not after everything she'd done for him so far. She still didn't even know how he'd gotten the wound in the first place. But, if he were going to insist on upending her existence so thoroughly, he wasn't going to be allowed to brush her aside, like an insect or pest. If it wasn't for her, powerful demon or not, he wouldn't be here right now.

A slow inhale. “Bull.” Ah-ha, caught herself there before she could finish the full phrase. “Th-That injury...it's still bothering you, isn't it? Don't lie to me, Alastor.” Oh, the way she said his name...just who was she, to act so bold so suddenly, inviting herself into his personal space like it were the most natural thing in the world?

He wasn't that poor, defenseless animal any longer. No matter if there was a lingering remnant of his past skirmish – the point remained that technically, as he was...he didn't need her anymore. He could, with just a single strike, end her life here and now, if he so chose. She was right there, without any chance to fight back. It wouldn't have taken more than a slice, a grab, a snap!

So, why wasn't he acting?

Because...the game was still afoot. He was still, loathe as he was to admit it, interested in the pursuit of this soul. Someone both so timid yet fearless, willing to step foot in his domain, asking for nothing in return but his wellbeing. However, when he provided the offer, the potential favor, it was something out of his reach. And he had no clue as to why she wanted it in the first place.

Also...before he'd gotten involved, saving her pretty little head, she'd helped him first. And perhaps...there was a part of him, that was begrudgingly grateful, more so than he'd like to have acknowledged. Enough so that he was willing to humor her...to a point.

But. He still hadn't gotten what he craved the most: satisfaction. A proper outcome, a prize, for all his efforts and waiting. This one...had given him so much, and yet, not enough. If he couldn't have it all...then what was the point?

Certainly, it wasn't as though there was a shortage of ready and willing souls out there. He could have gone, and quickly found a handful of new contracts. But. He wanted this one. It was like being hungry, but only for a specific flavor, or meal. Nothing else would do. He needed Beth to agree, to something or other!

“Dear...” And now, he was parroting back her earlier attitude. Immediately, he saw her features pale. Good. “Do mind your manners, hmm? It's not very polite, to bandy about accusations so freely. My business is mine alone.” He saw her stiffen then; could practically see the gears turning in her head, as once more, the stud beneath her lips began to twirl.

“It's...not an accusation. I...I want to help.” Ah...? Wait a minute – perhaps this could work out in his favor, after all! She was so desperate to be of use to him, and...he required that, in order to silence the nagging little voice in the back of his mind. That itch he just couldn't reach to scratch. No, he had to get her to accept the terms, in order for this hullabaloo to be solved. He needed her to commit, to whatever he laid out.

So, once more, he was in her face. Beth felt herself gulp, before the knot slid down her throat. His eyes glittered so cruelly, surveying her smaller form before him. “Well, if you're really so eager to lend your assistance...”

His grin seemed just a tad sharper and brighter, as yet again, he put forth his offer. “Make a deal with me. Anything else that you can think of, and I will grant it, readily. In exchange...you can tend to me all you wish, if it will soothe the ache in your bleeding heart.” He saw her pale face lighten further at these words, even as her brow creased slightly in recognition. Using her own terminology against her, from how long ago.

That was just it, though. She really couldn't think of anything that she wanted, or required to be happy. All of this, it was simply...extending from a genuine place of compassion. Even as she knew he wouldn't understand the sentiments, and she shouldn't have been wasting them on such a character, as well. Beth couldn't help it – it was hardwired in her nature, no matter what she may have been through before, to always want to help. She knew, more often than not, it would come back to bite her painfully. But, she still continued to do it. For all the darkness she'd witnessed, she still cared, to a fault.

In this case however, her very life was on the line, being offered up like a bargaining chip. And yet...she was sticking to her guns. Even if the ammo in them had been spent how long ago. She refused to lay down her arms, and say die. There was something about him, that called out to her. No matter if she couldn't agree to his terms, or even forcibly eject him from her existence. Now that his full presence and influence had been revealed...she couldn't give up. There was still something there, that she wanted to...to...save?

Not quite. But, she couldn't let go, either. There had to be another way out of all of this!

“No...I can't do that, Alastor.” Again, that word, grating on his hearing! So harsh and biting! Never had he known someone to toss it about him so freely! It almost made him want to silence her – almost. But, it seemed as though she wasn't yet done speaking, so he supposed he should let her continue on, and finish her spiel. “However...”

Oh, boy. A deep breath in. Was she really going to do this? Attempt to reason with a demon – and a dealmaker, at that – just to save her own pathetic hide, and buy herself however much time longer on this Earth? A glance between him, and the corpse upon the floor.

Yes. She was.

“If you want...my help, then...I can give you that much. You can...stay here. I w-won't drive you away. As long as you need...to recover fully. This can be your home...for now.” Even as she was trembling, Beth managed to get the words out clearly. There was no going back – what was done was done. She had put forth her arrangement. She wouldn't agree to all of his terms, but, if he needed care...that much, she could acquiesce.

So. This human...this fearful, pitiful, powerless mortal...was turning down anything he could possibly grant her, yet at the same time...was willing to give him what he already intended to take, without a fight? Well. This was...interesting. Not a dramatic turn of events, though still something of note.

But...why? Why should he agree? He could get his answers this way, but...where was the fun in no strings attached?

“Hrk - !” In one swift move, Beth was dangling in the air, a clawed hand wrapped tight around her throat. The ends were digging into her flesh, providing sharp stabs, mixing with the near complete lack of air to her lungs. His eyes had returned to their prior dial state, and the static was rising around them. The mic cane was gone. Worst case scenario - ! He wasn't happy!

Surveying her form in his grasp, struggling to break free, Alastor could only begin to imagine the possibilities for how he could break this little upstart. She might have given him a second chance, but in the same breath, she may as well have spit in his face. She refused to play along with his plans, and that. Just wouldn't. Do. She had caused just as many problems as she had granted him reprieve, and if ending it all was the only way to gain any sort of satisfaction on his part, then so be it. He'd grant her the full nightmare – far worse than anything that meat sack could have inflicted.

sh*t! sh*t! Beth couldn't be arsed to care about the foul language here – once again, she was going to die. And, based off of what she'd been witness to...this death would be a whole lot worse than anything she could imagine. Forget being just choked, or even stabbed! She could easily have her own limbs torn away, her heart forcibly ripped from her body! Maybe her skin flayed and stripped from muscle and bone, or the blood completely drained from her being...!

But what?? What could she possibly do here, to avert this outcome? What else could she say, to get him to see reason? He was quite obviously intelligent, so it wasn't as though bloodletting was his default! And he'd been positively pleasant as that little deer! In fact...

Beth felt her heart thudding painfully in her chest, as a sudden recollection came to mind. The one time he'd been the most enamored with her...was when she'd been singing. At those times, he'd been willing to indulge her in anything – even a few more seconds of life.

It was a long shot. But, right now, she couldn't think of anything else. So, drawing in whatever air she could manage, Beth forced the words out, in a jerky, pleading hiss.

“Y-You will smile for o-only me,

And I w-will take all that I-I wish.

Do n-not ever weep, it was your ch-choice,

My s-sweet summer bride...ignorance is b-bliss.”

Basically, with these lines...she was acknowledging her surrender. But, at the same time...she could only hope that somehow, he'd hear them...and perhaps, be swayed to think twice, about sending her off to meet her maker.

As soon as the familiar sounds had passed her lips, rapidly turning blue, Alastor's head had snapped to attention. His gaze landed upon the woman then...

...to lock eyes with an eerily familiar, frightened expression. Where had he seen this stare before? It wasn't the same as when she'd been cornered, at the mercy of that buffoon. At the same time...that single word, drifting through his mind. Teasing, tantalizing – like a dancer just out of reach, prey beckoning but unable to be caught.

“Smile...” That's right...he hadn't yet seen hers.

In an instant, Beth found herself on the floor with a solid thump. Coughing and gasping, she was rubbing frantically at her collar and neck, inhaling deeply, greedily, as if she'd never experience the ability to do so again. With a guy like this, anything could happen, at any given moment. Maybe he was just lulling her into a false sense of security, before he finally struck - ?!

If these were her last moments, she had to make them count! She'd only managed to buy herself a few extra seconds, that's all! She needed more than just some pretty vocals, to ensure her survival here! So, taking in another deep breath, she offered her final plea.

“If! If I – I fail to – to help you, o-or keep – keep you entertained!” Oh? “If I c-can't be of – of any use! Then...then! Then, you – you can have it! You can have my soul! I'll make a deal! For whatever!” Well now, what was this? Was dear little Beth...actually attempting to bargain with him? Throw out her own conditions, to the ultimate showman?

Not only that, but...it didn't sound too bad? She had used the magic word: 'Entertained'. That was what he craved the most: an end to the monotony. Hell had been amusing, but eventually, even that...had gotten stale. The conflict he'd endured with Mister high-and-mighty upon the throne had probably been the most enthralling thing he'd experienced in how many decades, humiliation notwithstanding. At least he hadn't died. At least he could come back. He still had everything to his name.

And it was all...because of her.

“Beth. Sweetheart.” Again, the flush to her cheeks. No, not here and now! This was serious! Forcing her stare to meet his, no matter what a right sight she must have been at that moment, Beth refused to kowtow...even as the deer demon was now eye-level with her, kneeling down to regard her intently. However, the harshness to his expression seemed to have softened somewhat, and she'd take whatever positives she could get.

The static too, had quieted, as he reached out, to tilt her chin up with a long finger. His head co*cked slightly, as his eyes narrowed. Though, it certainly wasn't a malicious expression he bore. It was almost...quietly giddy? “You do realize, that this is a deal of its own accord, yes?”

In response, she shook her head, breaking away from his touch. For a moment, emptiness. “N-No! No deals! We're going to – to agree to this, without any contracts! You know – you said, that it was a – a good thing, that you m-met me! So, this – we can do this! Without the hocus pocus!”

Her ocean eyes were steeled with resolution and determination now, a rather startling sight indeed, as she locked gazes with him a final time. “Y-You owe me...just as much as I you. We have...what each other needs. So, I'll give you my effort...and, if it's not good enough, then you can have my all.”

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, almost violently, in an X motion. “But! Until then...we're partners in this. I'll do my best...to p-put on a good show.” What was she even saying here?! She wouldn't be able to pull this off! But, if she had to choose, between automatically going to Hell, or dying horribly, and then going there...she'd take her chances with the harebrained scheme she'd just devised on the fly, and hope to whoever might have been listening, that this guy was reasonable enough – or crazy – to give it a shot.

Silence. Absolutely unfiltered quiet – you could have heard a feather fall. Then...

“Ha...ahahahahaha!” Unbridled laughter. He – this unholy creature – was practically doubled over. Whether that was a good thing, was as yet to be determined. Though, Beth couldn't help feeling a tad bit miffed, at apparently being a subject of potential mockery.

It took a few seconds, before he finally caught his breath. “Ah...that's better. Well then!” Instantly, his head snapped up, rather unnaturally, eyes rounded and alight with that unearthly red glow. Beth felt the faintest shiver snake down her spine – his teeth too, seemed to gleam ever so brightly, as he stood tall before her...only to offer a hand down.

What did this mean?

“I suppose...you do have a point. Without each other, neither of us would be here, exchanging pleasantries at this moment.” Really? He considered this nice?? “So! I'll take you up on that offer!” A wink, followed by a chuckle, and a lowering of his eyelids, shading his gaze with a new, ominous intent.

“However...should you fail to keep your end of this arrangement, you'd best be prepared, miss Beth – I intend to fully collect my pay. Both in the here and now, as well as beyond. Your soul...is mine. So, you'd best figure out a worthy personal reward for your eventual exchange.” Oh yeah – that sounded reassuring as all heck get out! This wasn't a mistake, no siree Bob! She wasn't going to regret this in the long run – playing house with someone who hailed from Hell itself!

Swallowing quietly, Beth placed her palms flat upon the wooden floor, pushing off to stand. Like she was actually going to take his hand here and now. Who knew what other conditions could set in place if she did so. “Y-Yeah...I got it.”

As she rose to her feet, wrapping her arms around herself to steady the shakes at actually having succeeded in her gamble, Beth failed to realize that Alastor's gaze had not yet left her figure. No, he was drinking in every last detail of this strange human, who had somehow cheated death at the last possible second...with an idea he'd never have seen coming, not in a million years.

Care for him. Entertain him. She, of all people, wanted to engage in such things with someone of his status! Oh goodness, but this one was just full of surprises! From singing her way out of the figurative noose, to throwing this new mini-game, an appetizer his way, before the main course. Certainly, he had no faith in her abilities here!

At the same time, though...he could still see her, in his mind's eye, staring back at him, so hauntingly plaintive and...what? Yearning? Pained, surely – that was common in situations of distress. But there was something more to that expression, that elicited such a powerful reaction in him. It wasn't that he necessarily wanted it gone, no. It simply...seemed to remind him of something, that he couldn't as yet place.

Again, the lingering taste of cinnamon. He banished it away, with a flick of his tongue against teeth. Beyond that...he was still terribly curious, to see this dour woman with something akin to a joyous expression upon her features. Perhaps once she'd failed in her mission, and came to understand that eternal servitude to him...really wasn't so bad? It wasn't as though he were a cruel taskmaster, perish the thought! He knew how to keep things fresh, and folks on their toes!

Then again...so did she.

“Ouch...” His thoughts were interrupted, by a sudden wince from his human companion. Beth was lightly pressing against her cheek, flinching at the ripple effect of the throb from the bruising. First things first – she needed to do something about the swelling. She'd been unconscious for a while, but surely a pair of ice bags could help?

So, letting out a sigh, she trooped off sluggishly towards her kitchen. After spying and scooping up her phone from the floor – couldn't forget that – to shove in a pocket, she flicked on the light. Doing her best not to fall over, she searched the drawers for a couple of ziplocks to fill. Alastor trailed behind her silently, watching her actions in mild, muted interest.

As soon as they were stuffed and sealed up, Beth headed for the couch, to plop her head down upon the side that had less blood splatter. Stretching her body out flat on her back, she placed the bags upon both sides of her face, holding them there for a few seconds, before letting them go when she was sure they could stay on their own. A few seconds of silence.

Too much silence, actually. It was starting to irritate the deer demon. They were basically roommates now, right? And Beth claimed to want to 'entertain' him, yes? Then, it was on her to provide some sort of engagement. He would get it however he so chose...

...like asking questions. As many questions as his twisted heart desired, in fact. No matter how potentially invasive or insensitive. “Hm! That man who was here earlier...and is still around, in some manner. Ha ha.” Jokes for days! “How do you know him?”

Beth let out a groan, from where she lay. “I don't. He was some nutter, who found me through my job. He tracked me down. I have no idea why, but he was obsessed.” Ah, okay. So, she must have worked some sort of position that required her to interact with others, at least. That...didn't really narrow the playing field very much, now did it? She could have been anything, from a shop clerk, to a waitress...or even an adult entertainer. Plenty of those where he hailed from.

That last thought was not one he cared to pursue. So, Alastor chose to move on. Things were just getting started, and getting good. What could he force out of her next?

Chapter 20: Lunatic Fringe

Chapter Text

“You are a connoisseur of the picture shows, yes?”

What was Alastor going on about now? “The moving images, on the screens. Be they large, in the theaters, or small...on the televisions.” And why did he sound so disgusted with that last word? What had the idiot boxes ever done to him? It wasn't like Beth ever actually used her own, but even when she had viewed programs in the past, she'd never gotten so heated against the technology itself. Only certain shows or films.

She let out a sigh. “Yeah, I guess? I used to...watch a lot of stuff, when I was growing up. You could say, that TV was like a babysitter.” What a horrifying image. “My family wasn't exactly...the most active in my care. They were present for some things, but not others. I was usually left on my own, from a pretty young age.” Why was she even bothering to tell him all of this, anyway – like he were a shrink, and she were being analyzed? She already had one, didn't need another!

More importantly... “Why do you care?”

She could practically see the smile in his voice, at his next words. “Well, you seemed to have quite the collection of media on hand, so I merely thought it beneficial to inquire as to why.” At this, the woman nearly shot up from where she lay. She would have, had it not been for the potential of flying ice cubes, and the sudden lurch in her head. This guy - !

“You went through my stuff?!” A hearty laugh for her troubles. This wasn't funny! When had he done it? As a deer? Or earlier tonight, while she'd been out cold? “Who said you could do that??”

Another laugh, that slowly tapered off into a low chuckle. “Dear...I don't need your permission. What's yours is yours, and now also...mine.” Oh, great. He was invoking their agreement, then? Well...she hadn't set any specifics about belongings, only that he could stay as long as he needed, and she'd do her best to accommodate him. Great. So, she had one more thing to get used to: a nosy demon, on top of bloodthirsty.

“I must say...you do have the violent streak, eh? Your choice in content sparks quite a few questions as to your true character, miss Beth.” Stop with the mocking politeness! What did the movies she watched, or anything else, have to do with who she really was? Movies and comics didn't create delinquents, or any of that other conservative nonsense! The most they could argue, was that they made killers more creative.

Beth could feel her forehead wrinkling, the bags sliding just so with the action. Her hand rose, to catch them from falling off. “'Violent streak'? They're just mindless creations, not tools for condemning yourself. Everybody needs an outlet once in a while. Nobody's one-hundred-percent pure, but they're not monsters for watching that sort of stuff, either.”

More chuckling, though this was decidedly colder. “An outlet, you say? Well, then...why bother with a fantasy, when the real thing is right within arm's reach?” At this, the sharp thud in her chest. “You say they're not monsters – I beg to differ. After all, I've seen more than enough of them cross the threshold into my domain. That stain I dispatched tonight was just one of the many faces I've trifled with over the course of my lifetimes. Humans are idiotic little thorns, digging into each other every day. It's just a matter of time before somebody reaches a breaking point, and carefully contained imagination crosses into reality.”

What...the flying eff was this current discussion? Beth could feel the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck rising. Was this guy...seriously trying to argue a case for murder?? Demon though he was, he'd said it himself – he'd been mortal, at some point or another. This only harkened back to her previous wonderings...

...as to just what sort of man he was while alive.

“Th-There's more good in people than you're betting on. I've seen it.” And yes, for all she'd been through, Beth had. She'd seen it in Paige. She'd seen it in the other DJs at her workplace. She'd seen it in the people who'd called into her show from time to time, with sweet requests for loved ones, or stories of yesteryear, the glory days of the music she played. She'd seen it in the many wholesome posts and messages shared through the online communities she frequented as a silent lurker.

A kind, well-worn face, drifting across her thoughts then. The greatest example of wholesomeness and purity in the world that she could possibly think of...stolen away far too soon. That familiar bitter clench of her heart.

This time, the laugh was cutting and quick. “Oh, I don't doubt you have! But, think about it, my dear: how often does the good news make front page headlines, as opposed to the many delicious failures and atrocities this world has to offer? Humans have been tearing each other apart as long as the Earth has been turning.” Alastor tsk'ed then. “If I told you that the realm of fire was fit to burst with souls, to the point of overpopulation, perhaps you'd understand my point better then.”

Beth could practically see him looming over her as he leaned in. The image was all too clear. His words...did not sit well. Hell...was overpopulated? That's how many people had been condemned to its realm? And for what? It couldn't only be because of cruelties and nightmares, right? If it was...then this planet was in far worse shape than she'd first thought.

On the other hand though, if Hell existed...then there had to be a Heaven, too. But just who was getting admitted through, if down below was stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey and then some?

As if he were reading her thoughts, the male continued on. “And don't even get me started on the pearly gates above. If you think that only the best of the best wind up there...you'd be sorely mistaken. They're quite rigid with their standards, as anybody with a basic reading comprehension would know. But that good book is a mess of its own accord. And I'm not saying this merely as I am now.”

This whole discussion...was leaving a rather sour taste in Beth's mouth, causing her head to spin. She couldn't even begin to care that Alastor had gone rifling through her belongings. This information was far more important, and not easy to digest.

If it were actually the truth.

For all she knew, this guy was pulling her leg, trying to get yet another reaction out of her. Well, she could safely say it was working, though most of the words in response, or even retaliation, were dying upon her tongue. The best she could do...was let the topic drop there. He could think he'd won, for all she cared. As long as she didn't have to dwell any further on it.

And so, the silence stretched on. Eventually, Beth nodded off again, though this time, it was at least under slightly more comfortable circ*mstances, prior conversation notwithstanding. Tonight was long and stressful, and just based off of who she was, not even factoring in everything that had happened, she could only take so much. Both from the events...and her new houseguest.

Physically and figuratively, the ice was melting, but as of right now, the heat beneath...brought no comfort.

…...

By the time Beth came to, the ice bags had completely liquified, slipping down her face, to rest in the crooks of her neck. One hand was draped across her stomach, while the other was hanging over the edge of the cushions. Faint sunlight was streaming in through the curtains, slowly growing brighter with every minute that passed.

As she carefully sat up, wincing yet again at the pain, she felt a sudden hollow thud in her chest, at the sight of a flash of red to her right. Instantly, a rush of memories. With a sharp jerk of her head – ouch! - Beth was turned, to take in the image of a beaming, though also slightly annoyed giant of a demon, regarding her rising form.

“Ah. At last. You humans do have such a proclivity for slumber.” Yeah, well it didn't help when you'd been beaten to within an inch of your life, on top of having your whole world turned upside down, in just the course of a few hours! Speaking of which...

A quiet gulp then. “What exactly...were you doing, while I was asleep for...” A slow turn of the head this time, as she regarded the clock on the wall. Twenty minutes past six a.m. When that guy had shown up, it had to have been around ten or eleven. She had no idea how long the encounter had lasted between them, let alone his...end. After that, she'd knocked out for at least another couple of hours.

Well. Forget figuring out the rest right now, then. Beth was more interested in getting answers as to her current inquiry. Alastor had already admitted to searching her belongings once. Who knew what he'd be capable of a second time around? She still had no clue when he'd actually done it, but okay. It didn't really matter – the point was, it had occurred. And, thanks to it, he now seemed to have the idea that she might have been another nutjob in the making. Great.

The male in question let out a little hum of acknowledgement. Nothing else. Beth tilted her head, hesitantly. Every movement had to be carefully administered. Already, her nerves were itching to grab hold of the stud backing under her lip, and turn it for all it was worth.

In actuality...he hadn't really done much of anything?

It was true. He'd explored her place to the rafters the first time she'd been unconscious, and had amused himself as much as was possible then. Following their talk, when she'd allowed the last subject to peter out, he'd been all too ready to spring yet another topic upon her...only to see that, once again, she'd fallen victim to the Sandman. How boring! For wanting to entertain, so far, she wasn't making the greatest impression.

However...

He supposed, being a vulnerable human, who'd been through what she had, and was doing her best to recuperate, he could give her a pass, just this once. He would admit, if nothing else, her contradicting him on his oh so accurate points in their prior discussion, had been fun enough. Of course, someone like her was desperate to see the positives of such a macabre world, filled with so many insipid crabs in a bucket.

In the same breath, though...he really wouldn't have thought someone like her would ever acknowledge anything akin to 'violent urges', let alone engage in subduing them, through things like viewing the sort of media she did. Perhaps he should have looked into some shows on the stage – see if there were any that fit such criteria? Get her away from that loathsome electronic device and its offspring.

No no no, that wasn't the point here! What was important, was that this woman Beth, in spite of her weaknesses and hangups...was showing some real promise, as to what sort of potential she could possess, in regards to assisting him. All it would take, was one bad day, and a little nudge. Just the right words, and amount of them, to get her to take that plunge into damnation, head first after him. She might not give up her foolish arrangement just yet, but she'd at least have nowhere else to go, once she'd stained her hands as deeply as his.

Hmm...she'd already been witness to a murder, that she had no way of revealing to anyone else, lest she wanted to be incarcerated herself. She was well on the way to becoming a perfectly deranged tool, the first means to an end. Splendid!

Anyways. Back to the original topic. He hadn't really looked through her things any further. Aside from listening to more tunes, between the radio and his own personal sources, he'd bitten the bullet, and taken a chance on a few of the books upon her shelf. The topics contained within, were...well, unique, if not entirely intriguing.

One was a novel about the 'future' that had, quite obviously, never come true. The main story was of a man from another planet, who took Earth by storm with his behaviors and customs, being such a stranger in a strange land. He hadn't made it very far, before he'd placed it back.

The next, was set in another country, a couple of decades back. It centered around women on an assembly line, who banded together to help one of their own...cover up a murder? Mmm, now this one had held possibilities...

...if it hadn't gotten weighed down with too many extraneous social details and politics, instead of focusing on the criminal and gruesome aspects. He could understand and follow along, it just simply wasn't his cup of tea. So again, he'd returned it to its spot.

The last one, he'd nearly missed – it was thin, wedged in between a word search book, and another novel. The latter had been focused on the stupidity of mankind. Why did she have something like that, and why would anyone ever want to read it? There was no point in documenting such things – all you had to do, was step outside for one day, and you could fill up multiple tomes, with event after ridiculous event, big and small!

Getting distracted again. The final book had been, of all things, about how to survive a scary movie. Ah, probably based off of those discs she'd had stored away. He'd gotten a good laugh at a few of the entries and methods, though it had all ultimately come across as pointless – as well as inaccurate, to him. The best advice he could give, was to simply fight back, and tear your enemies apart. Instill that fear in them, through their last pitiful moments, before they became yet another name to your list of successful takedowns and conquests.

Ah – that's right. That method only worked for him. Heh.

Once he'd finished his perusing, there truly hadn't been anything else to do. It wasn't as though he knew how to use that 'computer' of hers, so he couldn't tinker with its contents. Besides, if he'd broken it in some way, that probably wouldn't have worked very well in his favor, of endearing Beth to him. He needed her to bear at least some sort of goodwill towards his character – destroying her belongings wasn't going to help much on that end.

Wait...he wanted her to like him??

Some time had passed. He wasn't sure how long. He'd been staring at the damages to the apartment; the still limbs, head, and torso, the bloody splatters across the floor and walls, the toppled TV. Again, ha. Served it right. He'd been getting tired of the familiarity of his own music, so he'd returned to the bedroom to adjust the radio once more. As it turned on for a few seconds however, the little thing had finally run out of power, dial going dark as the sound shut off abruptly. Whoops – it seems it hadn't been recharged in a while. So, his personal tunes had resumed filtering through the air.

He'd proceeded to settle himself outside in the parlor, to glower at a still slumbering Beth, when...the woman had awoken, at long last. Although he had been pleased for her return, the fact that she'd left him hanging for so long on his own, was still bothersome. So, he hadn't bothered entirely holding back the irritation he'd borne towards her, as she'd slowly risen.

And now, the present moment. A playful leer than – what? - as he addressed her. “Not much. You really do live a rather bare bones lifestyle – it's far too easy to explore in one go. So, you'd best figure out how you're going to make this wasted time up. After all...I am waiting on my entertainment.”

Beth could feel her tender cheeks flushing, as she was forced to look away. Carefully standing up, melted bag in each hand, she nodded her head haltingly. “Y-Yeah, yeah...” Her heart was starting to skip, as she made her way to the kitchen. She had to be on her guard – who knew what she might do or say, that could easily set him off? There was a lot of responsibility on her shoulders now, so if she wanted to keep all of herself intact, she'd better start bringing her A-game.

But how? Now that they'd reached this point...where did she go from here?

Well, it wasn't as though Alastor were stupid. Far from it – no matter if she didn't agree with his views, it was obvious that he had quite the mind behind his eyes. He could hold a conversation, and then some. If anything, Beth felt almost...stunted, in front of him? He could take anything she said, and turn it on its head, or use it against her. And what with his affinity for dealmaking, she had to be doubly cautious of what came forth from her mouth, unless she wanted to unintentionally damn herself further. That didn't count as swearing, right?

They could just talk. Basic conversation was always an option. Certainly, it wouldn't be boring. Perish the thought – it wasn't every day that you could say, you'd gotten the chance to talk with a full-fledged demon, of all things. Just...what could she possibly offer here; how could she even start any sort of discussion with a psycho savant such as this?

Pouring out the water into the sink, and chucking the used bags into the trash, Beth let out a soft sigh. Everything hurt, and she still had no ideas. It was rather early for such things, but possibly...a drink was in order? To numb some of the ache? She didn't have to chug a whole lot, just a couple dashes, to provide a soothing kick. As long as she didn't go overboard, it was fine. She did have to be aware of her medications as well too. She'd just take them a little later in the day.

So, opening the cabinet, Beth proceeded to haul down the large glass jug of cinnamon whiskey. Pulling out a mug and washing it six times – a favorite number of hers – she filled the bottom with a centimeter of liquid. The food she'd eaten the other day should have made its way through her system by this point, so she wouldn't need a whole lot to feel the effects. Drinking on an empty stomach wasn't recommended, but whatever. She liked living dangerously. That was sarcasm, thank you very much.

The booze burned sweetly as it poured down her throat. Shivering slightly, she placed the cup on the counter, licking her lips, and wincing at the slight sting. Jeez, that guy had really done a number on her. At least some of the swelling was under control now, thanks to the ice. She'd probably have to wear makeup if she needed to go out anywhere, though. Ugh.

Not that she hated the stuff, mind you. When applied properly, it was quite fetching. She'd just never had the energy to adhere to such a routine. She mostly kept it on hand for rare, special occasions, that never really came about...and as a reminder of her youth, back in the days of black leather and lace. How had she ever been so gutsy? Now, she much preferred to keep as low a profile as possible.

Pondering her plans to hide the damages, Beth was absently pouring herself another serving of cinnamon whiskey. It wasn't until she turned around, coming face-to-face yet again with a certain redhead, that she let out a raspy shriek, nearly dropping the mug entirely. How? How could she have forgotten he was there??

“Mmm...darling, it is a bit early to be hitting the bottle, yes? Not that I particularly care as to your preferences and vices, though I would prefer a companion on the sober end of things. One who can keep up, as it were.” Stop with the pet names! And now he thought she was a possible alcoholic, too. Wonderful. Could this get any better?

Shaking her head before downing the mini shot, Beth inhaled sharply, wincing at the bittersweet kick to her system. Time to pack up, for now, before she really did get carried away, in an attempt to dispel her current conundrum. “I do not have a problem. This is being done for a good reason. You'd drink too, if you'd been used as a punching bag, among other things.” Ah, the eternal painkiller, on multiple levels. Alastor had known far too many folks who'd wound up sucked down into the mire of addiction however, and had never escaped. It would be such a shame if she were to join them.

Yes...a right tragedy, indeed.

As she tucked the bottle back into the cabinet, away from sight, Beth returned to her prior train of thought. For now, she didn't really have to worry about any sort of travel or errands. It was Friday, which meant -

Instantly, the brakes were slammed. That's right...it was Friday now. Which meant...she'd have to go back to work. On pins and needles, looking like this.

With Alastor in tow.

No. No, this was not happening. And that was not an option! There was no way she could get out of this – it had been just about a week since she'd last been in the studio, so it wasn't as though she could skip out on the shift. She needed to get paid. She had an audience, minus one listener, that would be waiting for her return. She'd never taken a sick day off from her job, and no matter if she had at least one to spare, she wasn't about to start now.

Like she'd brainstormed before, there were ways she could diminish her wounds. But, keeping her new partner a secret from everyone else, should he show up right alongside her? That was absolutely impossible. She couldn't even try for the angle of “It's just a costume!” It was far too early for Halloween, nor were there any conventions currently under way! And, most likely, this guy wouldn't play an innocent angle, anyway. He thrived on chaos. The more of it he could cause, the more he would revel in his handiwork. As if he'd really care about destroying her life. All he wanted was...well, what?

He'd mentioned using her apartment as a base to hole up in. But aside from that? Why would someone so powerful really wish to stay by her side, of all people? It wasn't as though she were the most exciting person in the world! She'd just managed to catch his eye, by unexpectedly bringing him into her home, and then refusing to play his game by his rules.

Wait... 'stay by her side'? No! They just happened to have crossed paths, and entered into an unlikely domestic arrangement. There wasn't any sort of further interest on his part, other than potentially driving her over the edge!

Back to the current pressing issue: she couldn't take him with her to the station. But, at the same time, knowing what she did now about him...there was no way she could leave him on his own. She could very well come home, and not have a home to return to! And a whole lot of explaining to do, on top of that.

So then...what was she expected to do?

It was quite obvious, based on the look to her features, something was weighing heavily on Beth's mind. And oh, but if Alastor didn't enjoy a spot of distress! Grin gleaming and wide, he leaned in, eyes sparkling as he observed her quiet panic up close. “Ah? And what is possibly fettering your thoughts now, hmm?” He felt a surge of pleased superiority, at the sight of her starting from his sudden proximity and comment. Her reactions were just such a treat to witness!

“Y-You – You – You – You need to stop doing that!” As if her mere words would be enough to deter someone like him. And like heck she was about to jump on dishing about her particular problem just yet. She needed to figure out how to approach this in a way that would ultimately work out for her benefit. I.e, a way she could keep her dirty little secret safe, as well as everything she knew and loved.

So, for now... “And what – what are you planning to do about all of this??” For emphasis, Beth gestured her hands towards the stained walls, floor, and furniture. “You c-can't just leave my home to look like a Rorschach test!” Oh, she did have the sense of humor, didn't she? That was definitely a plus in his book. A tilt of his head, with a sharp crack. He was satisfied to see the momentary hint of worry ripple across her features at the gesture. She was still hung up on the so-called mess?

“Well, if you insist on being so...retentive about the paint job. Personally, I think it livens things up. But, different strokes for different folks, I suppose.” Inhaling slowly, Alastor closed his eyes. Here was hoping his abilities had returned enough, to take care of this 'clutter'. If not, then...Beth would just have to get used to her new living surroundings.

Steadily, his hands began to weave through the air, as a series of unintelligible words fell from his lips, under his breath. His shadow was rising behind him, as gradually, a red glow began to form among his fingers, gathering at chest level to shape into a swirling ball.

With a sudden flash, his eyes flew open, just as the mass split into multiple streaks, shooting across the air, to glide and swoop among the stains and smears. With each pass, the marks were wiped away instantly, as though they'd never existed to begin with. Beth could feel her own stare threatening to bulge out, at the sight before her. What sort of Mary Poppins black magic was this??

“Ah-ah-ah!” A streak had been about to engulf one of the severed arms. With a twitch of his finger in a beckoning motion, the various appendages, and torso, were swept up from the floor, and drawn in towards his figure. Beth let out a cry, sidestepping quickly as they zoomed past her, to hover before him. With a snap, they had been sucked into what could only be described as a miniature black hole, disappearing from view. Somehow though, Beth had the feeling they weren't entirely gone.

With a satisfied smirk on his lips, Alastor nodded. “That's better. A little bit of leftovers never hurt anyone.” Leftovers? Was he seriously planning on...eating the remains?? Just like the heart?!

Another instant, and he'd called back the streams of crimson to his form with a wave of his hand. In a second, they had formed together into that same ball, before simply...poofing out of existence. That was the best way to describe it.

Huh...this time around, he'd been able to feel the power leaving his body more clearly, along with the ache in his side. That wound had really taken a lot out of him, in more than one way. Curse that spiteful ruler! He may not have necessarily wanted his throne, but his head? That would certainly make for a beautiful trophy!

The apartment was virtually back to normal – no more crime scene. Everything was spic and span, save for the television, which was still toppled and cracked. Beth had a feeling, that for some reason...the technology personally offended him. She had no idea why, it was just a very strong hunch. But, not one that she was about to dwell on. Her home was fixed.

Now, the next pressing issue: her work day, and how to get to it without an unintended – and ultimately unwanted tagalong. If she'd thought things were bad when she'd been faced with the thought of hiding him as a deer, then it was nothing compared to the concept of -

Immediately, the lightbulb was going off. That's it! It wasn't the best solution, but in this instance of choosing the lesser between two evils...she knew what she had to go with. It was all just a matter of whether or not he'd play along, too.

Which reminded her...he was still standing there, waiting for some sort of response. So, steeling her nerves, Beth prepared herself for whatever was about to come next.

Chapter 21: When You're Evil

Chapter Text

Lucifer didn't usually come this way. He had no need to.

The scenery was dingy, the lights strung above flickering and faulty, buzzing with an incessant whine. Nothing was tasteful, like the natural flames and matching hues in his upper domain. There was grime built up, from an untold length of disuse. Everything was unkempt, from the pathway littered with various tools and crates, to the corners covered in cobwebs.

A faint dripping could be heard in the distance, though whether it was from water or some other substance, could not be pinpointed. The shadows playing upon the stone walls seemed to distort, mocking his presence, as if goading him in realization of his purpose. Or perhaps it was merely his prideful mind playing tricks on his ego. Who really knew, by this point.

These farthest levels of this, the lowest of the low, had existed for as long as he'd been in charge. They'd been arranged to foster growth, in terms of combat advancement, mostly. Experimental headquarters, to breed the best of the best in terms of unholy destruction, headed by one who'd been sought out specifically for both a lack of morals, as well as spine. He wouldn't balk at doing anything and everything asked of him, and his sinfully skilled hands.

However, despite possibilities of a future coup, aside from the yearly Exterminations, all-out combat had never come close to happening between the two sides. So, these pens, these specialty cages and laboratories, were only a vague safety net. If worst ever came to worst. Thus, they and their purpose had been cast aside, naught but a memory of the earliest days in the realm of fire and brimstone.

But now...oh, now?? He hated to say it – loathed it, even. However, he could not deny this fact: in regards to his current...issue, of pest control, he needed to seek out these resources, and for the first time ever, put them to use. Good use even, to either haul in or stomp out that redheaded migraine personified. He needed results, and the best way to get them...

...was to treat this usurper's betrayal as nothing short of a declaration of war.

It wouldn't have mattered so much, if the guy hadn't actually agreed and bound himself to his orders. He'd trusted this newcomer to bow to his rule, and follow the commands to a T. But, in the end, he'd chosen to lie, and set up his own little business on the side. And, if there was one thing the Devil couldn't stand, it was someone with a snake's tongue. Who did he think he was, anyway – himself??

If this troublemaker had really wanted freedom, he could have simply backed down, and accepted his place among the masses! No, instead he'd stolen away those condemned for his own purposes, while going head-to-head against the Overlords...and now, he himself. Because he couldn't stand being just another face in the crowd. And why? Did he truly bear his own overwhelming sense of grandeur, placing himself above the King, even if his gamble hadn't been for the throne?

Finally, Lucifer had reached a tall door. It was solid metal, with rusted hinges. There was no visible knob or handle. The very top bore a small window, though at this moment, it was sealed off, with a matching blind. The man did not bother to call out to announce his presence; nay, he didn't even have to knock. After a few seconds, the panel opened. All that was visible on the other side, was a large green eye, with a golden iris and angled pupil. Like a goat's.

“Ah...your Highness. It has been a while. To what do I owe the...pleasure, of this visit?” The voice was low, and warbling, with a wheezy hiss. A faint chuckle trailed after his words, though it tapered off instantly, as the Infernal gave him a piercing glare. It was only held back by his razor-sharp pearly whites, tugged up into a terse smile.

“Cut the pleasantries, Sliever. I have business to discuss. And no, this has nothing to do with Heaven. But, it is personal.”

The eye blinked once, then vanished. However, the sound of furious clicking locks and rattling chains could be heard beyond the barrier. Then, at long last, with a heavy creak, the door swung open inwards. Without missing a beat, Lucifer strode in. His pristine appearance – quite contrary to his nature and status – stood out almost painfully so, among the grubby surroundings and foul air.

Nobody dared to venture down here. No one had reason to. But woe to those traversing the manor, who just happened to wind up disoriented with the layout. A handful of new faces had been lost that way. But, whatever. Test subjects were few and far between among these parts, what with the lack of orders and projects being given out in the first place.

As soon as the thick divider slammed behind him, the King allowed his gaze to drift lazily over the setting. A few cabinets, stocked with a little bit of everything. What that entailed, who could say? There was a countertop to the right, bearing a sink – ha, in a place like this, was cleanliness really to be expected? - and many more vials and tubes. To the far back in the dark was a desk, cluttered with all manner of folders, books, and loose sheets. Off on the left, a few currently empty metal cages, taller than he himself. Inside, a few bones and empty pans were scattered.

And there, in the middle, like a grotesque centerpiece...a bloody operating table, complete with restraints. A scalpel and syringe were still resting atop its surface. Who knew when they'd been last used, though. The stains were dried, and there were no cries to be heard, so most likely, bodies hadn't rested upon its surface in quite some time.

The host of this gruesome space refused to draw any nearer, instead choosing to remain huddled beside his desk against the wall. There was however, a flash of crooked, rotten teeth, as the sounds of something...slithering and slurping, could be heard. It – he? - was moving. The being was rubbing its hands together, however many of them that there were.

“Personal business, you say...? You haven't stopped by in so very long – I imagine this must be a matter of...most severe importance, for you yourself to be dropping in, without any sort of guard to your name.” Another labored laugh.

At this, Lucifer raised a brow. “Do you really wish to push your luck with me, Sliever? Try anything, and I'll be handing your remains off to the next scientist gutsy enough to assume your position.” Continuously name-dropping, to remind him of his place. Such a hollow and banal moniker. In response, the being's lone eye widened, amid a flurry of babbling and apologies.

The King cut them off without hesitation. “Save it. I have a mission for you. It's about those soldiers you were working on before.” A pause, as an audible gasp arose from his audience. “The ones you had touted as being the ultimate answer against Heaven's further potential for combat. Beyond the Exterminators. The project I told you, in no uncertain terms, to leave as it was.”

His gaze narrowed slightly in brief recollection; what worry was it of his what happened to the populace? As far as he was concerned, the Almighty was only shooting himself in the foot. Because of their standards, so many souls had wound up in his territory, beyond just the most obvious candidates. Thus, more blood was spilled, for no good reason other than wanting to withhold a foolish standard. Lucifer would always welcome in lost sheep...but, he'd never promise them safety or status. Those were things they had to find for themselves. And, if they couldn't...it was no skin off his nose. More sad sacks would be finding their way to him soon enough.

Back to the main topic. “I want you...to resume your work on them.” The creature's gaze lit up, before the leader continued on. “However. You will be tailoring them to my specifications. They will not be sent after the elite.”

A whine then, like a kicked puppy. “But...if not them, then who?? Who could possibly be worthy enough of my most prized pets?”

Lucifer let out a low growl at the comment. “He's not worthy. Which is exactly why I need him taken care of. With him running around, we're all on the potential chopping block. So, if you don't want the Angels breaking down your door, to do away with you as they are want to do with the rest of us, should it so strike their fancy...you will do as I say, and tailor your subjects as required.”

The threat was real. Though, for the time being, they still had the leg up. As long as Heaven never found out...they'd never get caught. But. It had to stay that way. Which was why silent restraint, and eventual execution, was the order of the day. He needed that upstart wrangled in, back to his domain, and then...

...he'd do as he saw fit. I.e, make the ultimate example of he who dared cross him and his rule. His laws.

Lucifer didn't consider himself to be cruel, any sort of great and terrible leader. In fact, he'd almost have viewed himself as rather lax, on quite a few subjects. It wasn't that hard, in his opinion, to curry his favor. Shared interests were all too easy to converse on, and if that failed, simply being of sound mind and not a complete waste of time and effort was good enough to set up your basic security.

This guy...had seemed a worthy addition to the higher ranks at the time. A poor miscalculation on his part. Perhaps he should have been more stringent; then, something like this would have never happened. But alas, he'd allowed the more hopeful, jovial side of him to take the reins. The part that hadn't yet lost its wide-eyed wonder for all the juicy possibilities. Like the eventual rise of polka.

Maybe, if he hadn't been so loose, his own offspring wouldn't have -

No. He wasn't going to think about that right now. The only thing which mattered, was getting results. It would take a little time, but soon enough, this would all be naught but a painful memory, one that he'd awkwardly laugh at on his own time, when no one was around to hear.

Until then, though...this.

“Now...start taking notes. I will not repeat myself.” Already, the monster was scurrying off, to collect his necessary objects. Lucifer appreciated the speed, knowing that his words weren't falling upon deaf ears...or whatever the goon listened through. Sliever might have been a slimy, cowardly degenerate, but he was the best of the best at what he did. From testing to conditioning, and even torture – the cretin accomplished it all.

This was how he'd managed to keep breathing so long, because for the lack of times he was utilized, when he was called upon...his skills were second-to-none. A dark gleam in his eyes, at the thought of the eventual, successful future, once his orders were carried out.

The Radio Demon had picked the wrong King to try and trick with his smarmy showman schtick.

…...

First things first. Beth couldn't simply gloss over the fact that he'd done what she'd asked, even for all his quipping about the task. So, lowering her head, an all-too familiar action by this point, she gave her necessary gratitude. “Th-Thank you...Alastor. I know, it wasn't really, uhh...in your prerogative, to do this, but you did, and I – I do appreciate that.”

He did not respond, simply surveying her with that fixed smile and wide gaze, lit up like...the antennae on her station's roof, or the status sign in her station. Oh, how fitting. No – now was not the time for further observations or jokes! This was serious business!

Behind the smile, his IQ was fast at work, processing every last detail – from the usual bowing gesture, to once again, being regarded as a genuine savior, for something that was out of his particular repertoire of offering. As if he were so quick to use his esteemed abilities and play housekeeper on a regular basis! This was merely evening out the odds – in exchange for this hint of perceived give on his end, Beth, in turn, would be more willing to bend to his list of demand – erm, obligations he would require her to uphold.

Even if there was no deal currently present, he could easily begin the process for when it did eventually occur. Beth would be none the wiser. She was so unassuming, she'd simply mistake it as the most basic swap of services. As though they were old pals, helping one another out on the daily.

Ha. No. She was merely a toy – like she'd stated before – that he was willing to indulge, for as long as it suited his interests. Once she'd lost her magic, or spark, in his eyes...it was curtains for miss Beth. The game would end, and she'd have to admit defeat, in this silly little arrangement she'd come up with in the first place. He couldn't wait to see her fall apart, when she realized that this time...

...no one was going to save her.

A brief clear of the throat. “Yes...you're welcome.” He could grant her that much acknowledgement. He wasn't rude, not unless given a reason to be. Based off of the fact that tension continued to radiate from every part of her being however, he was pretty certain that this hadn't been the most pressing concern in her thoughts at the moment. Which was saying something, seeing how up in arms she'd gotten about it, the first time they'd properly interacted after her sudden black-out.

So...what could she possibly be so anxious about?

“Dear.” And there she went again. So twitchy, like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. “There still seems to be something on your mind.” Hmm? Looks like his act of fabricating gentle caring had actually triggered a response – her ocean eyes seemed to shimmer with a new emotion, as once again, she forced them to lock onto his own unwavering gaze. She was refusing to back down, from whatever she was attempting, and the thought of what it could be was, he had to admit, just the slightest bit thrilling. She really could be quite the charmer when she put her mind to it.

A slight inhale. Her stance was like when she'd first asked him that loathsome question, as to just how far his abilities extended. Oh, no. Was this going to be another bothersome occurrence? “Are you...still able to become a deer?”

He blinked. Huh? That wasn't what he'd been expecting, at all. It wasn't insulting, sure. But...it also wasn't exactly the most sensical, in regards to what they'd been addressing prior to this. How did she go from being grateful, to questioning his capabilities? And, beyond that...what was his answer here?

Well...if he had to perform one more little trick, then so be it. He had no idea what had caused this sudden interest, but fine. He could humor her this much, for a few seconds longer. But, she had better been prepared to give him a solid answer, once he was done showing off.

So, with a quick nod and a snap of his fingers, the shadows swallowed him up – only to reveal, standing in his place, that same quirky little animal from before. Beth felt her heart start to skip – yes, this was good! It was very good! Now, all she needed to do was -

Then, the shift back. In a surge of red energy, he was restored to his former glory. Even as he smiled down at her, Beth could sense the testy undertones – there was an unspoken irritation here, that she'd best start explaining herself, and fast. Right, right – he still didn't know as to her intentions. From his end, she probably looked like some spoiled kid, clamoring for a magic trick. Whoops!

“I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so...forward.” Ah, the apology. She was so skilled at doling them out, as if her entire existence were one constant accident in motion. Really, was his presence that influential upon her reaction? Or was her upbringing far more at fault here? In due time, he would get his answers. But, for now... “I just...needed to know, for certain. Now...I do. And th-that's a good thing.” How so?

After a few moments of silence, she continued on. “Y'see...I kinda...have certain...conditions, that I gotta stick to.” Conditions? “Like, y'know...being out and about?” A pause. “Work? A job?” His head co*cked slightly. Ah, yes. Her unknown occupation. Everybody was tethered to something, some sort of skill to pay the bills. What exactly was hers, and why did his transformative ability factor into it? “I, umm...well, after everything that's happened here...”

Beth was torn, between feeling like a confessing child, and an em-effing adult, stepping up to the plate to be mature as required of them. She couldn't guarantee one iota what Alastor's reaction would be, in regards to her proposal, let alone whether she'd still be alive to witness it. Perhaps he'd decide to kill her first, and then converse with her corpse. That wasn't out of the realm of possibilities.

Suddenly, the shift. “Urk - !” She was drawing back now, as the taller demon was leaning forwards, to enter her space pointedly. His eyes were alight, usual smile in place...but it was obvious he was getting just a tad irked with her bumbling around the main issue. His aura and words left nothing to the imagination, as a long finger extended, directly in her face.

“Beth. Do get to the point, hmm? The sun will have risen ten times over if you keep this pace.” Yeah, okay – he was definitely losing his patience here, whatever he might have possessed! Time to speed things up, and pull herself together! She knew she could, she just had to try! No, not try – do!

“Okay, okay, okay! I, well...” She'd spoken up in front of him before! Though granted, that had been before he'd decided to scare the bejeebus out of her, and almost choke her out. Still, though – nothing would start unless she took action! And, it wasn't as though she could just...give up on her job, her life, because of this, right? No! She wasn't going to break down! She had to fight! Just like when that creep had been manhandling her, and when she'd had but a split second to change Alastor's mind previously! It was do...or die. Literally.

She took a deep breath in. “You're gonna have to – to come with me.” A raise of his brow. Go with her? “To work.” Work? Her mythical job? “But, not as you are. As – as the deer. I can't have you...r-roaming around my place. But, you can't just – just be out and about as you are, either! This is the – the best compromise I can think of!” Oh...that's why she'd asked. She was attempting to hide him, from this pathetic world.

His smile stretched just a tad wider, as once again, he planted himself in her space. “Oh, really? And what, exactly, are you going to do...if I say no?”

Beth gulped. Yeah, this had always been a possibility. Better than him outright killing her, but still a problem. How the heck could she convince him that going with her, under her orders, was a more acceptable option than simply hanging out at the apartment, and -

Ding! A jolt of inspiration then. Right, right – he didn't want to be bored! That's what he despised! He was curious!

This time, Beth did her absolute best to hide her nerves, putting on her most innocent expression. Her hands were clasped in front of her, as she fiddled with her fingers. “Well, I just thought...you've been cooped up in here for so long now – even if it's in a disguise, wouldn't you prefer some fresh air? To see the sights, as it were? When was the last time you were here, anyway?”

At this, a flash of interest across his features. Yes, she'd been right on the money!

Mmm...obviously, she was hamming it up. But, when she put it that way, little miss Beth made a fair point. He had already explored her place to his satisfaction, and he still as yet had no idea where she worked, or what at. If she were willing to bring him along, then it couldn't possibly be anything too unsavory, right? Something that most weren't willing to share. He had to admit, he was a bit interested. What sort of career could a woman like this be involved in, with her personality and skillset?

On top of that...he hadn't disliked their trips out while he'd been in the process of healing. And, she'd be the one doing all the traveling work, too. She would have to serve him, and make sure he was comfortable the whole way. Which was also a plus, in his book. With this, it looked as though he'd come to an answer.

“Very well! You will bring me to your place of employment, for me to survey! I daresay it'll be quite the show! Ha!” Beth was about to let out a sigh of relief, when a shadow suddenly crossed his features, darkening his smile maliciously. “At least...you'd best hope it to be.” And there went that air, right back into her lungs, causing her to choke and cough. The sight was enough to elicit a series of chortling from the taller male.

Yes, yes – this performance was shaping up nicely! His human pet hadn't yet misstepped, not enough to fully warrant his ire. And, the treats she did promise...sounded absolutely delectable. Further entertainment in this newly developed world of mortals, being led by one who barely fit among them, and may as well have already signed over her soul? Truly, a spectacle of the highest level indeed! He'd get to reap the benefits of learning all about the new age, warping it to his wants and desires. Beth wouldn't be able to stop him either, only obey as she fell under his sway. And eventually...

...her time would come, too. Where she'd no longer be able to offer anything more, and he would finally win, yet again. Oh, how wonderful! How scrumptious!

Beth couldn't see inside his head, thankfully. Otherwise, she'd probably have started panicking all over again. Aside from his minor threat, he'd been willing to follow her plan. That was all she could really ask for. The rest, was up to her. Controlling as much of it as she could...and hoping that it was exciting enough for him to play along with the rest.

“Whew...alright then.” Looking at the clock, noting it was now almost seven a.m, Beth realized...she still had a good few hours until her shift. She'd already knocked out twice, but...what else could she really do here? Aside from putting together whatever she'd need to get ready, like her clothes and makeup – oh, and double-checking her show notes! - there wasn't much else to get done.

A brief sideways glance then. Her eyes landed, once more, on her put-upon television. She had no other options here, right? May as well find out, once and for all, if he actually did have some vendetta against the thing.

So, gesturing towards the toppled device, Beth cleared her throat, to attract his attention. “Uhh...I couldn't help but notice...you left that as-is.” She paused, to collect her nerves – his stare could be absolutely unnerving, at times! And it wasn't helped, at all, by that ever-present smile, either. If she'd thought he was bad as a deer, now...!

His expression didn't change, as he glanced between her and the broken appliance. “Yes. Is there a problem?” Beth could feel the weight beginning to figuratively pile onto her shoulders – looks like she'd have to be more direct, and ask him point-blank.

“Why?” At this, a tilt of the head. Why what? Why he hadn't included fixing that...thing, in his prior clean up of the place? She'd only asked him to get rid of the body and blood stains. She hadn't asked him to take pity on his enemies, or restore their effigies to their former glory. As if he were really inclined to do such a thing, anyway.

“You didn't specify. And, if it's not particularly obvious...I have better things to do than act as a repairman.” His eyes narrowed slightly, and there was a noticeable chill to his aura then. “Be thankful I chose to assist you as I did. I wouldn't have had any problem leaving this place in its former state. It would certainly be quite the conversation starter if your noisy company chooses to come over again.”

Beth felt herself pale slightly. Yeah...it was definitely a touchy subject. Whatever his reason for leaving it was, she wouldn't be served well by pushing the issue. So, she'd just have to prepare to lug it into hiding somewhere – unless she just wanted to junk it entirely. She'd need help removing it, though...

What to do from here, then? A few seconds of pondering. She could take a shower. It would hurt, but ultimately help. Actually, yeah. After what she'd been through, she needed to get that feeling off of her skin. The sensation of being touched against her consent, by that pervert...being kissed, even...

Ugh! A shudder ran through her, and Beth almost upchucked the cinnamon whiskey then and there. If Alastor noticed her sudden inward heave, he said nothing. She was now on her way to the bedroom, to haul out her garments for the day. A second bath was also in order here. “I'm g-gonna clean up! You just...do whatever it is you demons do out here – as long as it doesn't destroy my home!” He said nothing in response, simply following her retreating figure with his gaze, as she allowed the door to shut behind her just a hint more roughly than usual.

Do whatever they do, hmm? A hissing chuckle from behind him – his shadow was rising up, one hand over its mouth as it snickered. That could mean all manner of things, didn't she know? Though, at least this time...she had set a guideline in place. So. No summoning anything, at least. That took a whole bunch of fun out of things, because what was a newly restored creature of darkness to do with their powers, if not invoke all sorts of unholy, unruly beings and incantations? Looks like he'd have to find another way to amuse himself, then.

A creak, and this time, a softer click. Beth was now heading into the bathroom, a bundle of clothes in her arms. More sounds of doors opening and closing, before Alastor was once again left on his own in the silence. Allowing his stare to drift across the room, and over that loathsome cracked screen once again, an idea began to form in his mind. The smile on his face was stretching with a minor inward curl at the ends.

Most likely, Beth wouldn't be very thrilled with him...but, if worst came to worst, he could always add in a peace offering – like a gentleman would do – and clean it up again. Though...watching her react was just as much fun, in and of itself. Especially since there wasn't much she could do, once realization settled back in. That she was but a mere human, and he held all the cards and strings.

And...she had been just a smidge...cute, trying to employ her acting skills upon him earlier. Really – thinking that she was conning him into seeing things her way with that demurely imploring performance. He had to give her kudos for the guts, if nothing else. Not many people were brave or skilled enough to knowingly assume a mask before him, attempting to encourage their own gain.

Wait...cute??

Immediately, his attention was fully turned towards the television. If looks could kill, it most likely would have exploded, then and there. As it was, it merely lay in a defenseless pile. Already, a wicked orb of red energy, entwined with smaller black tendrils and surrounded by strange sigils, was beginning to form in a crimson-clawed hand. Golden teeth were grit tight in a hungry grin, as he let loose the destructive bubble.

A loud, resounding crash and boom. Immediately, Beth came running out of the bathroom. At least she was still fully dressed. Though, in her mouth and hand, was a toothbrush. “Whrat the he - ”

She skidded to a stop then, at the sight of...a black, smoking stain in the wood, where once had lay a busted electronic contraption. The brush fell from her mouth, clattering against the floor, leaving a frothy splatter in its wake. Truly, a demon's rage knew no bounds. And she still had no clue as to what had set it off, beyond mentioning the dang TV!

Yeah...it was going to be a long seven hours until her shift.

Chapter 22: Won't Get Fooled Again

Chapter Text

It took a fair bit of convincing, for whatever reason, to get Alastor to agree to remove the charred stain upon her wooden floor, where her never used but still somewhat wanted television had once sat. And still, Beth never got a proper answer as to why he'd chosen to obliterate it from the face of the Earth to begin with.

“What the heck did it ever do to you?? You never had a problem when you first showed up!” It was true, he hadn't seemed to pay it any mind upon arrival in his deer form. He'd been much more fascinated by things like her radio.

In response, the demon simply turned away, head lifted slightly as he stared at some random point across the room. So co*cky, with that smug smile upon his face - ! “It was in my way.”

At this, Beth had thrown up her hands in exasperation. “'In your way'? It was against the wall! And it only fell over because you chucked that creep into it like a fastball!”

Again, the indifference in his reply. “My point still stands.” Argh, this guy could be so frustrating! It was evident though that, by now, he was starting to become just a tad miffed with her prodding. The subject of his irrational hatred for the boob tube would have to remain a mystery. Figuring she'd be better off letting the matter drop, before he decided to pull one similar stunt or the other on her, Beth had scooped up her toothbrush, and tromped back to the bathroom, minding her balance. She had to finish getting ready for the day.

By this time, it was just about eight a.m. Another hour had passed, as she'd gone over her notes upon her computer in the bedroom. For a rush job, it was about as sturdy as it would get. At least she'd have two days to compile something stronger for the next week. But now what?

As she sat upon her couch, arms folded across her chest, she attempted to figure out where to go from here, until she had to leave. The sun had finally fully risen in the sky. However, there remained three hours until it was time to start prepping.

Her companion stood by the windows, looking out at the brightened scenery. What he was watching, if anything in particular, she couldn't be sure. She wasn't about to ask, either.

Well...at least the pain has dulled somewhat. Beth could still feel the swollen stiffness to her features, but the throbbing had settled down a bit. Probably due to the ice and booze. She could also see, enough to have applied the necessary amounts of concealer for the bruising.

She didn't have to worry about her cut lips – after a bit of searching, she'd found an old fabric face mask. Vaguely, she recalled having picked it up a while back, on a rare occasion she'd thought she'd actually been coming down with something, but couldn't afford to skip out on a shift. Thankfully, it had turned out to be a false alarm.

The mask was in good condition, since it had barely been used. It would work for her current situation. She could make up a little white lie, again of possibly having caught a bug during the wet weather, but not feeling out of it enough to miss a day. She was simply taking precautions.

So, they continued to sit there in an all-too palpable silence.

Although he wouldn't consider himself a chatterbox by any means, Alastor did not quite care for the quiet here. He could tell – Beth continued to stay on-edge. It wasn't out of any sort of concern for her wellbeing that he noticed this, no. He was simply going to force her hand; she'd agreed to be his puppet after all, in a sense, by setting up her silly little arrangement, and attempting to keep her soul out of his reach for just a little longer.

If he said “Jump”, she was meant to ask “How high?” He was getting what was rightfully his, i.e, entertainment.

“You said you were...near to being raised, by that television.” Hearing this sudden utterance, along with a sharp crack as his head craned over his shoulder, Beth nearly fell off the seat. She still wasn't used to his voice, or unique inflections, let alone him in general...! All she could offer here, to his face turned at such an odd angle, was a hurried nod.

He accepted the action, and moved on. “Though, you do enjoy the radio, as well.” Another frantic nod. “Well, then – if you had to pick, which would you proclaim a stronger...fondness for?” Beth found her own head tilting, out of an unconscious reflex. He was...really asking which she enjoyed more? Why? It took a few moments for her to even attempt to answer, as she pondered over her reply carefully.

She knew what he wanted to hear – that she appreciated the radio. But. Was that truly her answer? Even with her occupation, she still bore the other memories of her childhood; coming home from school, to an absent pair of Grandparents, and shrugging off homework she mostly didn't understand, in favor of cartoons. Waking up early on Saturday mornings, for more of the same.

A deep breath in. “Well, I...”

The seconds continued to tick by. Beth knew she had to say something. And yet...the words wouldn't come out. Anything other than what she assumed was the right answer for him, because truly, in her heart of hearts...it was hers, too.

When it came down to it, she'd never been able to actually interact with those shows, in any way. Sure, she'd made doodles in the margins of her papers, or in her many sketchbooks, but in regards to responding...she'd always gotten along better with the airwaves. Imaginary friends and television shows drifted and died; her love of melodies and lyrics had remained steady. She'd flittered between genres, but her general interest had never changed. She'd always had a radio in her room, even if she couldn't necessarily access a TV.

And, it wasn't fantasies of escaping to other worlds, that had ultimately comforted her when the going had gotten rough. Playing pretend with characters only went so far; they couldn't help you out of a real-life bind. All she could really depend on...was herself. No matter how fractured she might have been as a person. She still had all the pieces. It was just a matter of putting them back together. And it was music, that had forever been her outlet.

Her goals, those wishes that had seemed so unattainable at first, had now been reached. Achieved, by her own two hands...and a whole lot of glue, in the support system she'd built from the ground up, when all had seemed lost. Daydreams about superpowers wouldn't have given her that. Friends, and the everlasting comfort of never-ending melodies, had gotten her there instead. They had granted her the life she had now, having built a career out of frequencies. Her own beyond the surface was garbled, but the one presented to the world, at least, remained steady, while bringing her an elation she couldn't express through just mere words.

So, exhaling slowly, Beth offered her reply. “...the radio.” His ears twitched, the smile on his face tugging upwards just slightly, though...the light in his eyes seemed a bit dimmer. Uh-oh. He was walking over now, bringing forth that mic cane of his once more, to point it directly in her face. Beth felt the lump forming in her throat; was that...the wrong answer, somehow? Just what was with this guy?

Alastor's eyes were heavily shaded, as he surveyed her both curiously...and warily. “Dear...you wouldn't happen to be lying now, would you?” A soft chuckle escaped him. “To benefit your standing with me?”

Oh, for – this son of a biscuit eater didn't believe her, for such a stupid reason?? He thought she'd really waste her time giving him a false answer, just so he'd like her?!

Sure, she might have attempted to sway him to her side earlier, in order to get him to agree to her plans, but that wasn't an outright fib! It was an offer, that could either turn out well...or go down in flames. Why on Earth would she risk her potential safety and freedom on something as banal as a question like this?! If she really wanted his investment, then shrewd as he might have been, of course she'd always tell the truth! He'd appreciate the honesty, even if it came back to bite her, painfully, in the -

Wait...did she actually want him to like her, genuinely? Not just to be amused...?

Instantly, Beth felt the flush in her cheeks. No! She would not, could not, absolutely did not care one iota, what this smooth criminal of a demon thought of her! As long as he got his jollies, without her losing her head, that's all that mattered! As if she really needed the extra stress, of worrying whether or not someone like this, truly cared about her! Hel-lo, demon! With a friend like him, who the hell needed enemies?! Oh, crud! Swearing jar!

Steeling her nerves, Beth forced herself to look him dead in the eye. Her words were steady and true, both in their emotion and aim. “I wouldn't lie about something this important. I like what I like. So there.” A slight echo then – oh jeez, it really was a working microphone, sentience notwithstanding!

Alastor didn't back down, and neither did Beth. There was a slight charge in the air, though whether good or bad, was as yet undetermined.

Important, huh? Yes, it was. A simple question had turned into something of a standoff, because if she really didn't care for music...what was she even doing with her life? Everything she knew about herself, would have been nothing more than a long-running joke. And she hadn't fought for what she had, just for somebody who knew diddly squat about her, to come along and laugh in her face!

Which was...kind of what he was doing now? The demon was retracting his staff, calling it back into the nether with a twirl and snap. His laughter was hearty, as he fixed her with a new spark in his eyes. “Feisty, aren't we? Well, good! Makes this all the more fun for me!”

He nodded once, heading towards the windows once again. “I do look forward to finding out exactly what makes you tick. Your interest interests me.” And this was no joke, either. Although her reply had been rather simple, the look in her eyes had held nothing back. He could pick out a liar beyond easily enough, and if there was one thing miss Beth was far too skilled at for her own good, it was being an open book.

Truthfully, he hadn't really thought she'd been lying in the first place. He'd just wanted to rile her up a little; get a bit more meat to her response, for his efforts of asking the question to begin with. But, he supposed...he'd get that answer in due time. For now, this would do nicely. Witnessing that gleam in her stare, as she'd locked gazes with him...oh, how tasty. Though he was still going to be the one to come out on top. But, when she bared her teeth, and showed her spine...his human pet could be rather formidable.

And so, the hours continued to pass. At one point, Beth wound up throwing together a meager meal of Vienna sausages and a cheese stick, along with a glass of milk. At another, she'd proceeded to prep her hydro-flask of coffee. She'd probably have done well to carry some water on-hand too, but...she really couldn't be bothered to deal with the extra weight. Not the most healthy, but if she had to choose between staying conscious and functional, or simply hydrated, she knew which one she'd pick. She hadn't passed out on the air so far.

Beyond that, it was merely running over her notes one last time, adding in the final touches and edits, just to be certain she was ready. Once she was in front of that microphone and switchboard, that was it. She had to roll with what she had. Although there were instances where she'd had to improvise, they were usually few and far-between. Most of the time, she preferred not to be caught off-guard, lest she freeze up like, well...a deer in headlights? Oh, great reference there. Exactly what she wanted to be thinking about here. A reminder of just how much her life had been turned on its head.

Could she really guarantee...that this guy wouldn't try to mess with her, once they'd arrived at the studio? He seemed to thrive off of conflict and reactions; what could she possibly do, should he decide to drop the facade, and screw with her setup? She didn't know the full extent of his powers, other than the fact that he was insanely strong to begin with. What if he chose violence today? To cause problems on purpose? She could effectively kiss her entire existence goodbye then.

At the same time...he did seem to have at least some sort of a vague code of operations to his name. So maybe, just maybe...he'd leave her alone to her work, for those ten hours? Oh, this was going to be the longest shift she'd ever undertaken. It always seemed to work out that way – things you needed time to progress towards, would always happen faster than one would prefer. And everything you wanted to hurry, would play out agonizingly slow. What if he didn't like her occupation, even?

Well...that part, she might not actually have to worry about, seeing as he bore such a fondness, seemingly, for her radio. Perhaps he'd even take a shine to her workplace? And then, possibly...want to help, or even take over...which was also not a good thing. Thus, back to square one in the cycle of worrying and paranoia. Just call her a paranoid opioid. Which reminded her – did she take her pills for the day?

Soon enough, her alarm was going off – it was twelve p.m, one hour until she had to start setting out. It would take twenty minutes or so to reach the bus stop past the bottom of the hill, and then another half an hour to arrive at the studio. So, she had to start putting her things together now. That way, she could just grab them and go, once one p.m came around.

Purse, backpack, hydro-flask, roller bag. Oh, time to take the jacket off. Just set it and the pins to the side for later, in case those rain clouds decided to return for an encore. Letting out a sigh, Beth was about to wipe her brow – layers and constant motion tended to bring out the sweat – before remembering at the last moment: makeup. Even with foundation holder, a setting solution, and aerosol hair spray, she didn't trust it not to smudge. Yes, she was obsessive about keeping everything in place. This routine was a mix of both the obvious, as well as tricks she'd learned, when she originally hadn't had the funds for the professional stuff.

The whole time, Alastor had said nothing, even as the gears continued to turn. He'd simply watched the woman scurry about her place like a mouse in a maze, or a headless chicken. Getting ready for whatever destination they were off to next. He really had no clues as to what sort of employment she was engaged in, but for her sake, it had better be memorable. If she really expected him to just sit down, shut up, and knock out...oh, she had another thing coming.

After all, it was her very soul on the line here. And she'd made the offer to him, not the other way around. He expected something of a worthwhile effort on her part, before conceding defeat. Eventually, they could both look back on this, and laugh. Or, at least...he would.

Again, the alarm. One p.m. Time to get moving. Looking over at her looming companion, Beth could only clear her throat, unsure how to approach the subject of what she needed him to do here. It wasn't like before, where she could just pick him up as she liked, and haul him around as needed. No, now she actually had to make a point of asking him to do as she required. And, even with their earlier discussion...there was still no guarantee, that he wouldn't simply change his mind, and straight up refuse, or refuse and then...snuff her out.

However, it seemed as though in this moment, he understood her intentions, without a word passing her lips, and was feeling amicable. With a snap of his fingers, and a puff of smoke, the small red deer now stood before her, ready to be carted off. Letting out a soft sigh, Beth made her way over, this time far more aware of how she handled him.

As she placed him into the rucksack, zipping up the top most of the way, a soft “Thank you” left her lips. Alastor did not say anything – in this form, he wasn't able to, for one – though the words did linger for a few moments afterwards. Was it merely because the gratitude was nice? Or, was it the way she said them; so genuinely appreciative, in spite of nerves? By just such a small gesture, he could bring out a positive reaction in her, towards him and his being. That was a good thing, right?

Yes, in regards to his grand scheme, and future plans. But...what about in general? Should he have really derived any further enjoyment from them?

The trip down the hill was far more uneventful this time, as they made their way under the freshly restored sun. Now, with his powers fully established, the deer demon could easily survey his surroundings, taking note of the various structures as they passed. From the high brick walls, iron fences, thick green trees and shiny cars in crowded garages, to the neatly manicured patches of flowers, towering lamp posts and slightly swaying electrical wires overhead. The familiarity of the cliff edges and thick brush, that he'd found himself stumbling through just about a week before. Some birds, even a cat, here and there.

And, of course...the dogs. Tethered on leads far out of reach from the sidewalk, but still. Noisy, wretched beings, the whole lot of them! Looks like they were out in full force, now that the weather had cleared up. Perhaps the rain had its benefits, if it kept those grubby creatures out of his line of sight?

The world certainly had changed a fair bit, as they finally arrived at the foot of the incline. A few more yards to the left, before they stopped at the crosswalk. Oh, they were going in a different direction this time – not straight on to either side. He could see a bench across the way, with another post beside it. A yellow sign, adorned with the image of a larger vehicle, waited to greet them as they crossed, before Beth proceeded to sit down. Surveying it for another couple of seconds in silence, the only sound the rushing cars passing both ways in front of them, Alastor figured it was time to get his answers.

“Ah - ?!” Beth was jolted from her tired zoning, by a sudden sharp tap to her shoulder. She caught just the briefest glimpse of a shadow's tail end, darting back to settle around her ankles, and under the roller bag. Then, a sudden flash of red from inside.

“W-What? What do you want??” She hissed. “You wanna g-get us in trouble?!” Granted, with how fast those cars were going right now, there was a good chance they couldn't see much. But, when those lights turned red, and the traffic ground to a temporary halt...

She could see that blasted dark specter snickering at her, as a pair of crimson eyes merely blinked. The stare he was giving her, though...he was asking something of her. Or demanding it. What, was she expected to read his mind?

A jab upwards, by a shady, clawed hand. Realizing that it was pointing towards the sign, at long last, Beth was able to figure it out. “O-Oh. We're at the bus stop. Do they...have buses in Hell?” Wow. Not a question she ever thought she'd be asking, but there you go. Life was full of unexpected surprises. Like she really expected him to answer her right now, as he was.

Ah...so, that's what this was. It had seemed vaguely reminiscent before, but now, Alastor understood fully. Buses had existed back in his day, though he hadn't really used them much. Everywhere he'd needed to go had easily been within walking distance, and why pay money for transport, when you had two perfectly working legs to get you where you wanted? It wasn't that he didn't have the funds for it, he just simply preferred a nice stroll.

Besides...with the sorts of activities he'd gotten up to in his time, it was far better he'd kept himself restricted to travel on foot. Far too many opportunities for witnesses and leaving behind evidence, should he have chosen to attempt something as risky as public transport. The enveloping night and winding pathways of the city were his greatest allies, as opposed to bright lights and open roads.

As for Beth's question...yes. They did. And they were ridiculously faulty and crowded, too. Again – he would never regret his choice in foregoing them. Especially with the extra perks his demonic form had brought him.

On the distance, the woman could make out the slowly nearing shape, of the number three bus line. Standing up, she proceeded to open her rucksack, pulling up her purse just so, to retrieve her pass. Swallowing hard, she readjusted everything, swinging the knapsack on her back, and lifting the rolling bag by its straps, clutching them tightly in slightly clammy hands. Her heart was starting to pound.

Here we go... With a loud, low hiss, the bus came up to the stop, automatic doors squeaking open, to allow her inside. Making sure that nobody else was exiting, Beth proceeded to make her way up the steps carefully. After scanning her card, it was all just a matter of finding a seat. Luckily, there were two available in the rear. She had a place to set her companion down nicely, as opposed to keeping the bag on the floor. Heading towards them, the door closed behind her, as the bus began to pull away. A minor lurch forward, but Beth was able to keep her balance. Just another few moves, and they were settled in.

No turning back now. The rest of Beth's day – and her potential destiny – were lurking upon the horizon, as the duo sped towards the next destination.

Chapter 23: Why Don't You Come Over

Chapter Text

The scenery outside had seemed to whiz by in an instant; before she'd realized it, Beth had been making her way down the bus steps, to the stop about two and a half blocks away from her destination. Another couple of twists and turns, and she'd found herself standing outside the glass sliding doors of the station. Stepping through, she was immediately greeted by a blast of air conditioning, and the wave from the security guard on duty. Returning it shakily, Beth proceeded to clock in, before heading for the elevators.

This...was not what Alastor had been expecting. At all. He wasn't sure, entirely, the sort of occupation he'd have attributed to someone like this woman, but certainly, seeing those reminiscent antennae upon the rooftop, with the currently unlit sign, had not been high upon his list of possibilities, if present at all. He couldn't even begin to question the familiarity between the woman and the official, as they proceeded into the car, and up the various floors.

He refused to believe it. There was no way, in any universe, that someone like this overly-anxious, soft-spoken, slow-witted female...could possibly have any sort of connection to this sort of career path. Heck, with how stunted she'd come across as, it was ridiculous to imagine that she could have even hacked it in these ranks as a secretary! Perhaps she was a member of the cleaning crew?

As she stepped out of the elevator, turning to head down the hallway to her station, the door was closing, behind a tall, older male. He was in decent physical shape, slightly tanned, with salt and pepper streaks in his close-cropped hair. Clad in a polo shirt, cargo shorts, and sandals, a thick knapsack was on his back, as he was about to lock the door behind him. Upon seeing Beth approaching however, he halted in his motions, instead holding it open. A small but warm smile was on his face. He offered her a nod as she drew closer.

“Hey, Beth. Right on time, as usual. A little early, even. I swear, it's almost like you live here. You never miss a day.” He chuckled softly then, as she came to a slow stop before him. His eyes briefly scanned over the roller bag, before returning to her.

Even off the clock, Joey was calm and personable. Easy to talk to, though Beth chose to keep her conversations short and professional. She knew some of the DJs hung out together outside – most likely, he was going to check in with Johnny, another face from one of their sister stations, the classic rock channel on the floor below. Probably to pick up a late lunch, and catch up before his pal had to stop off at his second job for a few hours, prior to his nighttime block, at one of the local sponsors.

“I could say the same for you.” He was about to laugh again, when he suddenly paused, as if truly seeing her for the first time. His head tilted slightly, as his brow furrowed. Right, right – she was all done up today, along with the mask.

Now, his expression was one of concern, reflected in his grey eyes, behind thin-rimmed spectacles. “Hey, you alright? What's with the getup?” He leaned in slightly, though not near enough to be worrying. “You been sleeping enough? I know the weather hasn't been the greatest recently. Looks like it hit you pretty hard, too.”

In response, Beth waved her hands, with what she hoped was a convincing display of reassurance. “I-I'm fine. Just a little worn down, but not enough to take me out.”

He still didn't seem to be buying it, even as he'd drawn back. “You sure you're okay to work?” Looks like, even with the various concealers and half her face obscured from view, a few signs of something being off were sneaking through. Had she possibly missed a blemish? Was the fabric slipping? Out of self-consciousness, Beth found herself awkwardly adjusting a strap behind her ear.

She couldn't afford to miss this shift. She had to stay on top, and be responsible. She had to be strong!

Strong...responsible...those words echoed through her head like a mantra. They'd been hurled in her face how many years before, like filthy slurs. Reminding her of everything she wasn't. Now, she clung to them like she were adrift at sea, and they were her only support. Constantly fighting to prove herself, even when the obstacles had long sunk out of sight.

A faint, but still present giggle then, though it didn't allow any twitching to the corners of her lips. Obviously, none of this was visible. “Like you said, I practically live here. Can't keep the adoring public waiting, right?”

It took a few moments, before Joey finally seemed to buy her answer. Letting out a sigh and another chuckle, he shook his head. “I really don't know where you young ones get the energy from.” Out of all the DJs on the roster here, she definitely was near the bottom in terms of age, even if she didn't always feel like it. “But, alright. If anything comes up, though – you've got the necessary numbers on hand.” Beth nodded, grabbing the door handle as he headed down the hall, at long last.

“Take it easy now. Enjoy your shift.” She returned the sentiment, offering up a “Thank you”, before slipping inside. If he heard it, she wasn't sure. Today though, she couldn't afford to worry too much about minor politeness. At least she'd made it through this interaction in one piece.

The cool air, thankfully, did not let up in its current as she stepped into the office. At least her painted on getup wouldn't start melting. Releasing a heavy breath, she deposited her stuff at the desk.

Like Joey had said...if she really had to tap out, she could let the monitor know, during a commercial break or something. Just press a button, and buzz them in. But, she'd never missed a shift before, and she wasn't about to start now. She wasn't weak. She didn't need anyone to 'save her', from the responsibilities of being a fully-functioning adult.

Even if the night before could have easily said otherwise...

Slumping into the chair, Beth pulled out her hydro-flask, yanking down her mask to take a long swig of warm brew. Nice and strong. Exhaling deeply, she hauled off her rucksack, to pull out her phone, scroll over her notes, and practice her lines.

In the roller bag at her feet, meanwhile...

No. No, this was impossible. It had to be a mistake. Of all the people, in all the universes, in all the world...he'd wound up with the one who was entwined with a profession that he hadn't been able to let go of, even after his death??

To say Alastor was dumbfounded would be an understatement. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop; something, anything, that would prove his original musings right: that this Beth couldn't possibly have anything to do with the airwaves. Aside from her singing prowess and affinity for his medium, there had been no other signs to give away her supposed choice of employment. But, the more he heard her mutterings, the clearer it became:

Beth was a disc jockey. This was a radio station. She was directly involved in his territory.

“Alright...time to hop on.” As she stood up to head inside the booth, a pause. Now, she was looking down, once again...at the fuchsia bag upon the floor. She couldn't leave him out here alone for ten hours. But, could she really trust him in the studio with her, either?

Would he even stay inside the bag to begin with? His injury was, for the most part, fully healed. He could switch between his forms with ease. Who was to say he'd accept such an arrangement of playing up a 'bring your pet to work' angle?

In an instant however, her conundrum was answered. With a loud bang, a puff of red smoke, and a slither of shadows, that same towering, lanky figure stood before her once more, now fully surveying her station with a steady gaze. Beth could feel her heart bouncing in her chest like a jackhammer – she'd never get used to this! Thank goodness there were no cameras here! His posture was stock-straight, arms folded behind his back...

...as he swiftly strode towards the door to her station. Without missing a beat, it swung open, as if awaiting his presence. He slipped in without hesitation.

It took a couple seconds for Beth to pick up her jaw from the floor, before she was scrambling in after him, hoping against hope she wouldn't be stuck on damage control. Who said he could do that?? This was her domain! It was her job! What, did he think just because he was so strong, he could take over anything he wanted, and settle in like it had been his from the get-go?!

Well, when she put it like that...

Meanwhile, searching vermilion eyes were scanning over the modern setup. Quite the sight indeed lay before him.

Familiar, and yet not. It was a lot more metallic and colorful, with various flashing lights and scrolling screens, plus fewer wires. He was used to more wood, and connecting cords. Certainly, no monitors or keyboards. The setup was vaguely reminiscent of the 'laptop' that Beth was constantly buried in, albeit with more bells and whistles.

The microphone designs had come a long way from his day. Back then, they either rested on a stand, which you yourself were expected to stand beside, or they sat upon a desk. Sometimes, they were held, to be closer, though still on a cord. His own trusty companion followed a mix of the two. This one, on the other hand, was attached to a long pole, and could easily be pushed aside, should the need arise. Larger, but somehow more convenient?

At least the headphones hadn't changed much – hmm, wait a minute. Thinking back...could those little 'buds' she used on her computer, have served the same function, albeit in a vastly different form?

“Hey!” The word came out in a sharp hiss, as Beth skidded to a halt behind him. “Y-You can't just do whatever you want!” Carefully closing the door, she tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, before making her way over to the swiveling chair. Luckily, the 'On Air' sign was dark. Casting a brief glance over to the flashing monitor, she was glad to see that the commercials were almost about to wrap up, and the call letters were coming on to signify the start of the new hour.

“Oh?” Beth nearly let out a scream – just as she was about to sit down, a blur of scarlet brushed beside her, as long fingers were now examining her mic and holder in quiet contemplation. Alastor did not miss a beat, even as his attentions were focused elsewhere. “Rather bold for you to assume such a position of authority between us.” Uhh...

He paused, surveying the various switches and buttons, though thankfully not attempting to trigger any. The last thing Beth needed, was for this whole exchange to be broadcast over both the local airwaves, and the online streaming services! “Although most of this is beyond my time, I must wonder...just how capable you are of operations here, when you can barely remember not to trip over your own tongue.” What...?

A twitch in her temple. Now, Beth was seeing red, and it wasn't just because of the specter in front of her. Oh, hell no! Forget the swearing jar for a minute! This murderous cursed spawn...was seriously implying that she didn't know how to do her job?

He barely knew diddly-squat about her to begin with, yet was swooping in as if he were the be-all, end-all authority on the profession she'd spent half a decade working in, plus however long striving towards?? What, just because he bore a fondness for her radio? Or because he could most likely decimate a city in two shakes of a lamb's tail, should it suit his fancy?

Either or, the reason didn't matter. Beth wasn't about to take this lying down. After everything she'd been through in the last half a day or so, adding this nonsense on top of it, like insult to literal injury? Forget that noise!

Her palms slammed down on the open space between the switchboard and controls. Alastor raised his brow in mild bemusem*nt, at the sight of a flushed Beth, locking a stormy sea-green gaze with his own cool stare. The latter was wedged between mocking and appraising. Oh, that look...seems like he'd gotten under her skin again. Was she really going to try and tell him off, in his old stomping grounds? How quaint. How delightful. Just what method was she going to choose, in regards to getting her point across, seeing as words weren't her strong suit to begin with?

“You...you don't get to make fun of me. I d-don't care, if you come from Hell, or the moon. I did not do what I did to make it here, j-just to be spit on by an out-of-touch yokai!” Huh, what was that last term she'd used to address him with? Well, whatever. He could figure it out later. Right now, his little human pet was looking for all the world like she wanted to strangle him...

...and that just wouldn't do. In spite of his enjoyment towards her attempts at posturing, there would always be that great divide between them: she was lesser. She was merely human, albeit an intriguing dish, who'd offered up a shiny new game for him to engage in a few rounds of, before ultimately figuring out the trick, and winning the crown. Just like always. He hadn't made it where he had by virtue of playing nice, or forever humoring the damned. Eventually, she too would crumble to his authority and might.

“Beth. Do remember your place, hmm?” At this, a cold shiver slipped down her spine: that's right. She was basically attempting to threaten...a full fledged monster, all in the name of her job. At the same time, though...

So many others had looked down on her, all throughout her life, deeming her useless, stating that she'd never make anything worthwhile out of herself. Heck, she'd had to cut out the majority of her family for this very reason! They only saw her as a burden, pursuing silly dreams while being considered so broken and useless! Yet, they'd expected her to bend over backwards and take on a labor of love as a servant and punching bag, because “faaamily”?? Screw that!

And now, this guy was basically spitting on her, too.

Spinning the chair around, Beth managed to squeeze past him, heart skipping in her chest as she forced herself to hold back the slew of curses she wanted to spew. It wasn't worth her head, to give into his goading. The best way she could make him shut up, was to show off the chops that she'd been honing for how many years now. If words alone wouldn't do the trick, then she'd just have to take action. That's how things ultimately got started, right? She had to pick up the slack, and make this guy choke on his misguided assumptions.

“Don't get in my way!” With a press of a couple buttons, the sliding on of headphones, and the flick of a switch, the booth and board had fully awoken, as the 'On Air' sign flashed to life.

In her way...? As if this petite pipsqueak actually knew her way around such a medium! It was more than just a few operative gestures here and there! And she should have really known better than to attempt at talking over someone like him – he'd been the king of the frequencies, most likely before her folks, and their folks, had even come into existence!

It would have been so easy in fact, to pull the plug on this entire farce; to simply end the whole affair, here and now. Not just this misguided sad sack's attempt at earning a dollar, but her life, entirely.

However. As much as it would have been amusing, to put this upstart in her place...why not take a chance, sit back, and enjoy the show? If she was really so intent on making a fool of herself here, then who was he to stand in her way?

Nay – he was here for 'entertainment', was he not? And failure was at the top of his list, one of the best ways to capture and enrapture. It was what he'd based his whole living off of, wasn't it? Beyond the microphone and static, he was a dealmaker, first and foremost. Sucking in unsuspecting saps was second nature; impatient, ignorant marks who were more than willing to say yes, so long as they got what they wanted.

Thus, he was fulfilled, as well: watching them unravel and wither, once their time was up, or once the conditions had been met, and it was time to pay the piper.

Fine then. Let the silly girl try to put on a show. 'Try' being the operative word here. He'd watch her crash and burn, as he was so certain must have been the usual state of affairs here. Really, standards had dropped so much in the modern age. Nobody could possibly hold a candle to his prowess at the craft of managing and manipulating the airwaves, both up above, and down below.

Unless...she was actually gifted?

For a moment, he allowed himself to muse over this possibility. It was also true...that on a few occasions now, Beth had surprised him. From taking the chance on bringing him into her home and caring for him dutifully, to speaking up in the face of his potential wrath. The arrangement she'd offered him, to save her own skin, while at the same time, continuing to provide him solace and shelter. And, of course, everything she'd fought with, to keep herself alive, before he'd stepped onto the scene.

What if...just what if...little miss Beth wasn't merely blowing smoke here? Was he willing to give her a shot, to prove herself worthy? Could someone like her handle the challenge? And, if she could – if, by some miracle, she actually pulled this off...

...how would he respond? How would he view her then?

Exhaling quietly, Beth closed her eyes for but a moment, allowing her state of mind to shift. It didn't matter that she had an extra guest watching her today. It wasn't any different than having a supervisor dropping by, aside from the fact that none of her bosses hailed from the Hell-scape. It wasn't any stranger than putting herself out there, to be judged by the faceless masses who tuned in on a regular basis. It didn't matter what he was, or where he came from. She wasn't going to let him walk all over her!

Her head was starting to hurt just a tad, but Beth forced herself to push it aside. Ignore the pain, no matter what she might have gone through how long before. Ignore him. Time to get to work. Her eyes flew open, as she proceeded to pull down the physical mask...and slip on the figurative one instead.

“Good afternoon, one and all. It's Beth here. What a beautiful afternoon, after these last five days of full-on flooding. Hopefully, your weekend holidays weren't too waterlogged.” A brief pause. “But, after all...isn't the most important part of these celebrations the bonds we share with one another; the spirit of community and connection?”

She chuckled softly then, though again, she did not smile with the sound. This was a practiced routine for her by this point; she'd learned how long ago to hide her joy and laughter behind an impenetrable exterior. Which was good, seeing as her face still hurt from earlier, too. In general, visible emotions did not serve her well – and this was saying something, seeing just how many of them her current antagonist-slash-houseguest seemed to coax out of her.

The words flowed from her mouth without effort, as her eyes scanned over the next playlist to her left. “Anyways, it seems not much has been happening here in our beloved state; the wet weather really did do a number on us.” Ah-ha! Her eyes lit up just so, spying a familiar title lying in wait to be played. “But, on the plus side...Earth Day is just around the corner. Or at least, it will be in another week or so. Thus, this prolonged shower will definitely have benefited and prepared us, in offering our thanks to the land.”

Pressing a button, a new hooky rhythm began to fill the air. “For now though, let's kick those rainclouds to the curb where they belong, and welcome back the sun. Here's some Nancy Sinatra, with 'These Boots Are Made For Walkin'', starting off another long set. Enjoy.” Pressing a button to mute the mic, Beth allowed herself to lean back in her chair.

A couple seconds of silent musing, as the faint throbbing ebbed away into nothing. Who cared if she was still in pain? Who cared if her supernatural audience might have been mocking her behind her back? She loved what she did, and nothing would ever change that fact.

Closing her eyes, the lyrics fell from her lips without hesitation – a remedy for all the pains she'd been suffering, from the creep who'd been dispatched into the nether, to the bruises hidden under her pretty face paints...

...and the arrogant, trigger-happy demon that currently shared all of her personal space, whether she liked it or not.

“You keep sayin', you got somethin' for me.

Somethin' you call love, but confess.

You've been a-messin', where you shouldn't have been a-messin',

And now someone else is getting' all your best.”

Beth could practically see it in her head: herself, marching along grandly, knocking down each obstacle and issue in her way. This time, it wasn't just the current problems that she was visualizing, either.

“These boots are made for walkin',

And that's just what they'll do.

One of these days,

These boots are gonna walk all over you.

Yeah...”

Across her mind's eye, was a fast-forwarded play through, of so many hurtful, harmful memories. With a little spinning flourish of her finger, her green eyes flew open, as she pointed towards the screens. She didn't bother to turn around – this performance was for her and her alone.

“You been lyin', when you oughta be truthin',

And you keep losin', when you oughta not bet.

You keep samein', when you oughta be a-changin'.

Now what's right is right, but you ain't been right yet.”

Such a difference in perspective! From being the one getting pushed around, to holding her head up high, and sending them packing! Even if she hadn't been able to do that with most of the faces in her life...well, the fact that she'd made it this far, and was able to stand on her own two feet at all, in spite of the disparaging and beatdowns? Didn't that count for something?

“These boots are made for walkin',

And that's just what they'll do.

One of these days,

These boots are gonna walk all over you.”

The song was nearing its conclusion, and Beth's spirit was soaring. She was practically racing among the clouds, as the final lines rang out, both from the system, and her own mouth. Thank goodness nobody had access to her here in the booth, unless she called them in directly! What would they think of her then?

No – it didn't matter. She certainly wasn't looking to be caught, but at the same time...she wouldn't worry. For once.

“You keep playin', where you shouldn't be a-playin',

And you keep thinkin', that you'll never get burned.

Ha!

I just found me a brand new box of matches, yeah,

And what he knows, you ain't had time to learn.”

She knew, that the meaning of the song didn't really apply to her specific situation, if one wanted to get particular here. However, in this moment, Beth couldn't be bothered to care. It was her current anthem, and she was going to ride this high for as long as possible. Until she was forced back down to Earth, and all the new chains that she'd willingly wrapped around herself and her battered wings, returned to tether her in place.

“These boots are made for walkin',

And that's just what they'll do.

One of these days,

These boots are gonna walk all over you.”

This time, she made a little gun with her fingers, pretending to shoot at an unknown target straight ahead with a wink. Here it was – the grand finale!

“Are you ready, boots?

Start walkin'!”

With that, Beth spun the seat around, a sense of triumph running through her veins, as she at long last, regarded her companion. Amazingly, he'd sat through her whole routine, without a single interjection. A mild sense of surprise, even as she recalled, how he'd always let her do as she pleased before, when in his deer form. Though, then again...he'd also been quite limited, too.

As her eyes took in his figure, however...

Chapter 24: Send The Pain Below

Chapter Text

When was the last time that Alastor had truly been rendered speechless?

He knew his smile hadn't slipped; his lips were still tugged upwards sharply, teeth fully on display. But, they were grit, far too close to biting down on the tongue behind them, and drawing blood. He could feel his brow twitching, a minor flick of an ear. His posture was overly rigid and stiff, refusing to allow him to slouch or slump, even as, to a minor degree, the figurative wind had been knocked out of him.

It was like watching the smoothest machinery in motion. As soon as Beth had settled in behind the controls, that demure, rambling, hesitant and unsure persona had fallen away. In its place, sat a bright and confident woman, facing the world with her head held high, not a sign of stress or worry to be found upon her features. The words had flowed from her mouth, sweet as honey, smooth as wine. The perfect performance, betraying not a hint of the prior turmoil and terror she'd experienced the night before.

How...was any of this even happening? How? How could somebody be so divided? It wasn't as though he hadn't ever seen someone with two faces before. But, usually both sides of the whole were still able to function on the same wavelength, towards unified goals and outcomes.

In the case of miss Beth though, one was nearly entirely stunted. A shattered, warbling mess, always apologizing and bending over backwards. Barely displaying any sort of capability and spine, beyond managing the most banal of existences. There was nothing to her presentation that would have given away any hint of her profession, let alone that she was capable of such wondrous deeds.

And oh, but the show she'd just put on...was one to behold.

In but a few words, she'd had the audience at ease, bouncing between the past, present, and future without missing a beat. She'd shown positive emotion, far more so than anything she'd ever expressed when around him, before jumping straight into her little impromptu routine. The song meaning hadn't been lost on him, but right now, it wasn't at the forefront of his focus. All that he'd cared about, was the passion and fire behind the lyrics – the conviction in her voice, as she'd sung along, ultimately channelling her emotions and grievances, making the melody her own. Just like always.

This time, there was no shrinking violet to be found. No, this was a whole new side of Beth, one that Alastor would have never expected to see...but was certainly not complaining about. Yes, everything was absolutely flawless.

Except, for one tiny, nagging detail...he still hadn't seen her smile.

His shadow had slipped out, curiously darting about the various dark spots in the booth as he continued to muse, while Beth could only hope against hope that this wasn't the part where she died. What, had she...broken him, or something??

No, no...it wasn't right. Even when in what obviously was quite clearly her element...she still bore no joy to her features. How was that possible? Every time he'd let loose a quip, or taken a call, provided some sort of interaction with his audience...Alastor had bore that same mile-wide grin. But Beth had been able to utter all these words, drop a soft laugh, and even sing her heart out, yet again...without expressing a single speck of the elation she must have obviously been feeling.

Where was her smile?

“Uhh...are you okay...?” At long last, Beth was addressing him. He hadn't moved an inch, and at this point, her familiar concern was starting to creep in. No matter her issues with the guy, that didn't mean she wanted him to be hurt, or even just bothered. Ultimately, if there was some sort of problem here, then she wanted to know what, so she could at least attempt to provide some sort of remedy.

If he was going to start talking her down again, though? Then, in the politest terms she could muster: he could stuff it.

A few more seconds of silence, aside from the music playing softly in the background. Then, suddenly -

“YOU AIN'T NOTHING BUT A HOUND DOG,

CRYIN' ALL THE TIME - ”

Beth nearly threw the headphones off, as the boards lit up from the sudden surge in power and sound. She did not need to go deaf thanks to one Elvis Presley! Looking over quickly at her companion, she took note of the fact that his eyes were momentarily glowing a shade of neon scarlet, like the antennae on the station rooftops at night...before immediately returning to normal.

Instantly, the sound levels balanced out, though Beth's ears were still ringing. Hopefully, the monitor wouldn't check in about the sudden increase in volume! If she was lucky, the fluctuation would be passed over without incident. At least they couldn't hear what was happening directly in the studio...!

She knew it was because of Alastor that the disturbance had been caused to begin with – the question was, why?

Another palpable pause between the pair, before finally...

Laughter. It was ringing out, explosively and raucously, an enthusiastic wave washing over the whole of the booth. Beth was now watching, in baffled shock, as her companion was doing his best not to double over. It was certainly the sight to witness – his usually proper and intimidating form, struggling to keep a physical composure from the force of his mirth. At the same time, though...

What did it mean? Was this a good sign, or terribly bad? Was he mocking her again, like when they'd first come to their agreement? Had her performance been so horrible as to tickle his funny bone to this degree? Could a demon die from such a reaction? Or, had she just issued her last broadcast? So many unknowns – too many in fact, for her liking! Now, in spite of the AC, Beth was starting to sweat.

It took another few seconds, before the male was finally able to compose himself. Once he did however, it was as if nothing had happened between them; Alastor was just as much a mix of dapper and intimidating as he'd ever been.

Beth could already feel herself tensing; the headphones were still off her ears, the playlist continuing to run through. 'Mellow Yellow' by Donovan was the current track up. What a song to potentially lose one's life to. She was attempting to keep her gaze from darting noticeably towards the door, should she need to book it, however quickly she could, by whatever method.

Oh, who was she kidding? If this was actually curtains for her, then she was toast. Swallowing quietly, Beth could only focus on the heartbeats ringing out in her hearing, as she waited for the potential end.

“Ah...that's much better. Goodness me! What a performance! I was not prepared for that at all!” Huh?

Now, the demon was fanning himself, as if flushed. “Well well! Aren't you just full of surprises, my dear! It seems I underestimated you!” Beth could practically feel herself deadpanning; her jaw was going slack, as with a slow but short stride, Alastor stood before her, holding out a hand, as if in congratulations. Underestimated...?

“I haven't seen such a mastery of the frequencies since...well, who am I kidding? Myself! Ha ha!” Wait, what? Himself? What was that supposed to mean? Could it be...no, she had to have misheard him. He was not suddenly stating, out of nowhere, that he, of all people...could have had anything to do with her field of work??

Beth had to resist the temptation to slap herself, or rub her eyes furiously. Instead, she offered a statement of clarification, though it came out with a hint of exasperation. “Radio exists in Hell?!” In response, she received a quick chuckle and short nod.

“Darling...we're not that different from you folks up here. After all, the damned are basically condemned to repeat the mistakes of their pasts, in a world heavily based off of what they know. So, don't be too surprised by the familiarity.” Oh, great. And now, he was possibly suggesting that she herself, was on a one-way trip to the fiery pits, as well.

Although...she did have to consider the fact that she had been witness to a murder, on top of inviting what could be considered the ultimate evil into her life, and basically bargained with him to stay alive if for but a little while longer. Perhaps he wasn't so far off the mark in regards to her future, after all. Not a reassuring thought.

Glancing down briefly, Beth realized, that he still had his hand out. Whether it was in a genuinely friendly offer, or to trick her into some other commitment, she didn't know, and wasn't about to try her luck at finding out. Slowly turning around in her seat, she let out a sigh, running her own shaky fingers through her hair. It seemed that, for the time being, she was safe.

Back to the prior matter at hand, though. What he'd just said - “A world based heavily off of what they know.” He knew radio, that much was obvious. But, could that little slip of the tongue, possibly mean...

“Hey, Alastor?” The call was faint. Still, he tilted his head slightly, though the woman couldn't see it. She didn't wait for him to respond. Her next inquiry was hesitant, but clear. “...you were once human. Does this mean...like, were you...also a disc jockey, too?”

His brow raised, the smile on his lips stretching just a bit wider. Inquisitive, wasn't she? Rather quick to catch on, too. In response, he offered her a low laugh.

“Not just 'a' broadcaster. There was no one alive, in my time, who could hold a candle to what I did...both while on the airwaves, and beyond.” For some reason, a chill descended down Beth's spine upon hearing these last words. Beyond? Was he just referring to his existence after having departed? If so, then why couldn't she shake off the feeling...that there was more to this statement than met the eye?

The next break was coming up in two more songs. She had to start talking again. As she reached for her headphones, the last notes of 'Respect' were already filtering into her hearing. She had no idea how much time had passed since first starting – she'd have to check her phone when she got a chance. But oh, what a session it had turned out to be so far! And this was just the beginning!

Hmm...since we already mentioned the weather, I don't need to bring up another report for that just yet. Scanning over the files of offered recordings for Friday, she was preparing to play the usual comedic skit, to properly introduce the end of the week for the station. Before that, though...

I'm not sure if the traffic announcer is available yet. I could check in with him, but if he doesn't reply, I'll have to pick up the slack. Is it too soon for a report? Beth was musing over all these little details, even as her heart was racing a mile a minute, and her thoughts were predominantly preoccupied by the creature that continued to watch and linger from over her shoulder.

A sudden blinking then; the monitor was ringing her. Pressing the button, Beth responded with what she hoped was a calm and collected “Hello, yes?”

The male voice on the other hand was straight to the point. “You've got three calls. All requests.” Looks like they'd been filtered, and given the thumbs-up. At least this gave her something to do for the next few minutes, to set up for after the following commercial break. Past that, however?

Her notes had mostly been made up of a mish-mash, from right after Easter, to whatever she could scrounge up passing that. But, it was too early to play any of the other skits just yet. Perhaps a basic interlude? She could always keep on blaming the weather for the lousy content. Again, it came down to not wanting any dead air to slip through. Technical difficulties were one thing – being caught in the middle of a slogging segment was another issue altogether.

“Alright, let them through.” The board lit up, the first caller coming out in a bit of a rush. Apparently, it was his wife's birthday. Beth was able to log down the song he needed, to scan over the list in a few. Pressing a button - the next person just wanted to rock out to Queen. Simple enough request to grant. One more switch - the last guest was stuck in the office, and had missed lunch. So, something mournful. She could do that.

As the final song trailed off, Beth prepared to resume control of the mic. There was no putting it off any longer; she couldn't keep hiding behind the music. Glancing down at her phone, at long last – five after two-thirty – she did her best to prep the lines in her head. With a deep breath in, she unmuted.

“And, welcome back, listeners. It's two thirty-five here in the state, on this lovely Friday after the rains. Things have been quite slow, on all our ends – getting knocked offline for a few days will do that to you, heh.” Another laugh without a smile. Alastor's eyes narrowed slightly at the sight and sound.

“But, we'll be getting back into the swing of things soon enough. For now though, it's time for a quick break – gotta pay those bills somehow. When we return, some requests, along with more of your favorite oldies from the golden ages of the 60s and 70s. So, stick around.” With another couple button presses, the interlude was rolling, to be followed by more ads. At the moment, the microphone was silent. Leaning away from the switchboard, Beth prepared to grab her jug, and take another long swig.

“You have an unusual way of expressing yourself, my dear.” Beth nearly spat out her coffee – that voice was practically slithering into her ear, his breath warm against her skin! In exchange for not damaging the gear, she had both choked on the liquid, as well as slammed the rim of the hydro-flask into her upper teeth.

Wincing and coughing, she licked her lips, glowering at the demon who was looking over her with wide red eyes, keenly inspecting her person, though it was not because of her sudden hiccup. “Wh-What do you want now??”

Alastor paid no mind to her frazzled state. His attention had turned to surveying the controls once again, though whatever might have been on his mind, did not show upon his features. His arms were at least tucked behind his back – hopefully, that meant he wasn't about to pull another stunt anytime soon. On the other hand though...he hadn't had to use his hands to nearly deafen her the last time – that had seemed to be more of a glitch, if anything. Was that an appropriate term to use here, in regards to his behavior?

His shadow was snickering, as she struggled to compose herself. Oh, how tempting it was, to just say “Screw it!” and flip it off. But, Beth had no idea if doing such a thing would count as a slight against its owner as well, so she wasn't about to take the risk. Besides, she wasn't one for such gestures to begin with. Opting to shoot it a glare instead, she returned her attention to its master.

The next words out of his mouth however, threw her for a loop. “Why don't you smile?”

Eh...? She tilted her head, not exactly sure what to make of his inquiry. She had heard him, loud and clear. That wasn't the problem here. What was most pressing, boiled down to another four simple words: why did he care? Because he always bore that maniacal grin?

Turning away, Beth could feel a faint heat in her cheeks. She hadn't really had anyone ask her such a question before. She could recall, as a very young child, having tried as such for school photos and get-togethers.

But then, as she'd grown older, raised by the family she was...day by day, month by month, year by year, the effort and desire had just seemed to...disappear. Slip off and away, into nothing. Until attempting to twist her lips into the gesture had felt foreign, and unfamiliar.

“What's wrong with your smile? Smile naturally. You look weird.”

Well. She hadn't heard those words in a hot minute. In fact, she'd almost put them out of her head entirely; had been perfectly content to not wonder or muse as to any of the expressions upon her face. She didn't need to smile. It wasn't like she would die, not doing so. It didn't mean that she wasn't genuinely happy, right? Even as she'd learned, early on, how to repress and suppress the gesture and feelings? So as not to bother others?

Because, when she was happy, and noticeably so, it was...

“That's none of your concern. S-Sorry I'm not a – a smile junkie, like you.” Immediately, Beth wanted to stuff her fist down her throat. She hadn't meant for the words to come out that harshly! Had he just...pushed a button, or something? Why was this even a problem for her to begin with? Nobody else gave a hoot what she did! Even Paige never commented on this! Why should this fearsome monster be bothered by her lack of visible teeth, every time a laugh managed to escape, or a photo was snapped?

Still, though...her words were rude. Shaking her head, Beth slowly spun around to face him in her chair. Hopefully, he'd allow her to apologize, before deciding whether or not to kill her for mouthing off. “L-Look, I'm sorry. I just...don't really understand why it matters. I do my job, and get through life just fine, without worrying about such things.” There. That was to the point, without being nearly so bitter.

His shadow companion was poking at the hydro-flask, now sealed up and settled at her feet. Alastor simply watched the board, as if looking right through her. A faint shudder then; no matter what he did, that intimidation factor did not lessen. But that was immediately forgotten, upon hearing his next words.

“You know...you're never fully dressed without a smile. I have no such issues with expressing myself in regards to doing what I am best at. This is true both above and below. Your honesty fails you here, darling.”

It was official: there was definitely more to this deer demon-man than met the eye. He wasn't just a shrewd dealmaker, bloodthirsty hunter, and intelligent wordsmith, he also...bore his personal career, apparently, in her very own field of radio broadcasting! And had been involved in said field, longer than she'd been alive. Since he'd been alive.

Doing...what? What else?

One side of Beth was frantically slamming on the brakes. There was a door there, that wasn't meant to be opened. A line that she should have been fighting not to cross. And yet, at the same time...

This guy was insisting on being a part of her life now, learning every last detail he could find about her. Ha, good luck with that. But, damn if he wasn't going to try, just based off of the interactions they'd had so far. She could tell, he wasn't about to simply let her go about her business. Shoot, swearing jar.

Well...couldn't that extend both ways?

Beth had no idea how she'd even pull it off. But, if he was going to attempt to make himself at home in her world...why wasn't she allowed to know, just a little bit more as to how he worked? It wasn't that much of an ask, right? She wasn't demanding names or dates. Just a few pieces of background. She could find a way, that he wouldn't be able to catch on to. After all, his general MO was to automatically doubt her, it seemed. So, if she played her cards right...why on Earth would he suspect her of digging for clues?

Augh, this is too much! Why can't things just go back to normal?? What even was that anymore? Certainly, before Alastor had fully dropped into her life, and before that particular creep had tried to have his way with her. But, beyond those two points...

She couldn't deny: she'd actually been rather charmed by having that little deer around, odd as he might have been. However, on the other hand...there was the subject of the current moment and happenings. Alastor was now aware of her profession...and had basically given her not just a blessing, but a glowing review.

How...was she meant to feel about this?

A fearsome demon from Hell, out of everyone in this world and the next, for all the jabs he'd made at her expense...was actually looking upon her and what she loved favorably. Not just that – he could even understand where she was coming from, because he'd been there, too. He most likely knew the ins and outs of her business, no matter if he hailed from a different time, or even a different realm.

Plus, it was obvious, even with his attitude...he definitely had the chops, to pull off his own stint on the airwaves. He, of all others...truly appreciated her efforts. Even more than that, he apparently wanted her to appreciate them, too.

Beth could feel her face heating up again, and she could barely focus on the ad playing. Instead, she began to hurriedly sift through the list of songs, to send forth the requests. She'd sort it all out later! Right now, she needed to retreat, into her safe haven; her escape from everything that weighed her down. Life was too real right now. She just wanted to kick back with some good tunes, and forget the rest.

Like that great golden grin, that continued to loom over her.

Crimson eyes flickered with silent interest, pleased at what seemed to be a fresh inner turmoil bubbling over inside his human pet. Oh, this was too rich. With just another few words, he'd set her off! And it'd only be a matter of time before he did it again. Really – Beth was leaving herself so open here.

Though again...what would she look like with a smile? What would it take, to push this guarded woman into such a reaction? Did he want to be the one to cause the change?

If so...why?

Thus, the shift continued on. No questions were answered; they only continued to compile.

Chapter 25: Hell

Chapter Text

Amazingly, the rest of the session had gone by without much incident. Songs continued to play, recordings were activated as needed. The requests had rolled in, and Beth had managed to make it smoothly enough through her lines, when talk segments were required. A quip or two, that had come to her on the fly with unexpected but appreciated good timing.

At one point, an ad had accidentally started playing before the traffic report had finished. She'd offered a quick apology to the announcer. “Whoops, sorry about that, Marlon.” Then, a giggle that didn't quite reach her features, but was convincing enough from the distance of airwaves. “Looks like those of you on the roads aren't the only ones in a hurry today.” A minor hiccup, that had been sorted in seconds. Being in this sort of profession, it wasn't all just organized notes – sometimes, you had to be ready and improvise. Then, you were guaranteed to land on your feet.

The whole time, Alastor hadn't said much of anything. But, Beth would have been an idiot to think that he wasn't paying attention. His gaze was trained entirely on her lone figure, every last motion she made, or word she uttered. He took note of how, even with her happiness in regards to what she did, there was still a barrier, that refused to let that light touch her eyes, her expression. Although she was confident, there was no release.

He had no stake in regards to the situation. Neither did he really care whether or not she was happy. It was just...baffling. She was so sensitive, but out of all the emotions that a human was want to experience and express, she was ridiculously guarded when it came to joy. She wasn't grumpy, no...she had her moments of peace and contentment. But even then, she wouldn't give in, and allow that most simple of gestures to cross her features. And, what was it they said? It took more effort to frown than smile?

Walking around with such a mask in place, only served to mark her further as a target. Behind the door of the studio, nobody could reach her. And, she was at least accomplished at her job. But, by refusing to relax and lighten up, she was making it painfully obvious, that should somebody want to lash out, and pull the trigger, as it were...they'd get some sort of negative reaction. Be it crying, a retreat, or whatever else, it only served to prove the fact, that Beth would forever be a victim. And it didn't only have to be at the hands of those like the misguided oaf he'd dispatched the night prior, either.

Hmm...interesting. Very, very interesting. Why was this realization weighing so heavily on his mind?

Again, it wasn't out of any sort of regard to her well-being that it puzzled him. No, it was more along the lines of...why would somebody willingly tether themselves to such a manner of living? There was nothing fun about being depressed, or constantly on-edge. He was always aware of his surroundings, yes, but he certainly wasn't paranoid. He had far better things to do than live any of his lives in fear. It was much better to face whichever world he was present in, with a bright, sunny smile.

Nobody would ever get the jump on him, or under his skin. No, that was his territory and area of expertise entirely. It drove his enemies up the wall, that they couldn't break him, or get to him by their tried and true methods. He never snapped, never cursed, never shed a tear.

But oh...if his opponents didn't do those things every single time they faced him down. It was very rare he ever found a combatant who could walk away from all he dished out, be it physically or otherwise.

Aside from that one...

What was it? Part of him, was absolutely salivating at the thought, of breaking this young maiden. When her silly little plan eventually fell apart, and she was forced to concede defeat. Give up, and sell her soul, like she'd been meant to from the beginning. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face; the heartbreak and utter resignation, upon that first taste of failure, permeating her tongue like blood after a slip between chewing.

On the other hand, however...wouldn't it be so much sweeter, if he could see her smile first, before ripping the figurative rug out from under her feet?

Yes...that would be far more entertaining. To see her let go, and give into him entirely; stop trying to hide away and brush him off. Pretending that she was stronger than she actually was, even while there was so much evidence pointing to the contrary. She'd said it herself: she was a “bleeding heart”.

Heh...bleeding hearts. Moving on.

He could mess with her so thoroughly – get inside her head, make her think, feel things that may or may not have even existed. Get her to play the game, until one by one, every last scrap of resistance fell away, to finally reveal that fleshy, vulnerable meat puppet at the center of the practiced routine. The armor of cautious melancholy could only offer so much, against someone of his skill and caliber.

And, once she was completely, truly shattered, in pieces too far gone to be saved...he would swoop in, and take what was rightfully his. This minor human enigma would have nothing left to shelter, nowhere to escape. She'd be forced to bend to his whim, and stop standing in his way!

It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. It might take a bit of time, but fine. Besides, although he'd been restored to his full form...he couldn't deny it. The steady throb that had fluctuated in his side, off and on, as he'd stood there behind the chair.

His old wound...had left behind quite the scar. Even if the affliction was basically healed, the remnant of what once was, wasn't about to up and disappear anytime soon. Not many, if any at all in the Hell-scape, could say they'd gone head-to-head with the ruler of the damned, and lived to tell the tale. It seemed as though he had more than two lives to his name. Lucky him, that he'd been able to come up with this scheme before throwing open that portal, and landing back in the mortal realm. That his powers had been strong enough, to allow him to transmute into the innocent, if unusual guise that he'd picked, let alone hide his abilities so thoroughly.

And, more than anything else...that he'd managed to cross paths with little miss Beth – just as much of an oddball, in her own way. Whether or not she intended to, and most likely, she didn't...she stood out. Her fearful pacifist nature, coupled with her huddled and bundled appearance plus occupation? It didn't add up, the whole it produced. But, these were the bits he was working with. Eventually, the puzzle would come together, and once it was fully formed...

...he'd delight in smashing it apart once more, before picking up each and every shard for himself, and rebuilding them as he saw fit.

“Alright...the monitor is gone for the night. In a few more minutes, we can start heading out, too.” The soft female tones filtered through his hearing, breaking his musings. It wasn't as though he were unaware of the present moment going-ons, though. Beth had just shut off the 'On Air' sign once more, stretching before leaning down, to grab her empty canister. The shift was over. It was time to head home.

Ah...right. Back to his former appearance, then. Shame, really – he'd gotten quite comfortable among the familiar yet unknown setup. Surely, had he been allowed to tinker with it on his own, he could have figured out how to work the controls for himself? And, even if he couldn't, well...that's where his unique abilities came into play. He could simply...adjust the settings, and make them more suited to his tastes. Cut out all the excess of the modern day, keep it clean and simple.

Beth should have considered herself beyond fortunate that, for the time being, he was willing to continue going along with her little ruse. It would be far too easy to upend everything, should he have so chosen. To send more than just a few other souls, if not to Hell itself, then certainly the padded rooms.

However. Revealing his presence so soon in this game, when there were more pressing matters to be taken care of, that required a steady sleight of hand, would only be a detriment to himself. No, officially blowing the lid off of things, and sharing with the world that yes – the afterlife was real, and demons did exist? Would only serve to burden him further in the end. For the present moment, this was a minor sacrifice he was being forced to undertake. He would simply have to bide his time.

The young woman had already made her way to the wheeled rucksack. In a flash, the little red deer had returned. Before Beth could scoop him up to place him inside though, he was already climbing in and over the zipper, to adjust himself. Beside him, his smaller shadow was snickering quietly. Alastor ignored it. He could do this much now – he didn't need her hands fumbling all over the place upon his person. Where was the dignity in that?

Even if he had accepted the help, up until this point, without any complaint...

“Uhh...right.” Shrugging, the brunette went to seal the bag, offering another quiet “Thanks”, before doing so. In another few minutes, they were on their way down the hall. The ride was smooth, from the elevators and out the door, to across the parking lot and street, to yet another bus stop. Shortly thereafter, their ride arrived.

All during the trip back, Beth could only count her blessings, and thank her lucky stars, that not only had she managed to make it through this round of work alive, but that she still had a job to return to next week. With the sorts of abilities he bore, and his general disposition, should Alastor have truly been displeased with her, he could have easily gotten her tossed out like the trash. An involuntary shudder had passed through her at that thought.

She'd spent far too many of her earlier years being kicked around, disregarded, pushed aside, given the axe without any thought for her wellbeing or safety. She wasn't about to wind up in that sort of situation again, and certainly not because a good deed had backfired on her in the worst way possible. As much as she feared him, there was also a part of her...that refused to kowtow. She hadn't done everything she had, gone through everything she did, just to have some sort of suave, snarky supernatural trickster, send her entire life's work up in flames.

If Alastor wanted to ruin her? Well, she might not have been able to fully stop him...but she'd be sure to find a way to leave some sort of mark behind. He wouldn't be forgetting her so simply. She wasn't about to go down without a fight!

Another shiver then. Was she really...entertaining the thought, of going head-to-head against a bonafide demon? If so...she was even crazier than she'd first pegged herself for.

Soon enough, the familiar sights of her stomping grounds began to pull into view. Yanking on the window cord, Beth was already making her way towards the front doors. Although there was a rear exit, she preferred leaving past the driver. She would always offer her appreciation to them, for getting her home safely.

The walk up the hill was steady, and silent. Just like a week prior, the night sky was clear. Everything was still, save for the faint sound of crickets in certain thick patches of brush. Beyond that, you could practically hear a pin drop. It was rather unusual – most of the apartments were located in the city. She'd been blessed to find this one, nestled in suburbia, let alone at an affordable price.

Eventually, they'd made it through the door, and yet again, up another elevator. As soon as they were inside, Beth flicked on the lights. Letting out a soft sigh of relief, at the normal setting, she was about to reach down and unzip the bag -

“Yow!” Only to be nearly knocked back, by a rushing, slithering black streak, slipping through the narrow sliver. In an instant, with a pop, said streak had reformed in front of her, to the familiar red figure she'd grown to somewhat know, and...that was it.

Shaking her head, Beth ran a hand through her long locks, as she proceeded down the hallway. Hopefully, it wasn't too visible on her face, just how much his little stunt had caught her off guard. Looks like there was still a lot more she was going to have to get used to here. “So, y-you can do something like that, too...good to know...”

Alastor did not answer, merely following after her as she proceeded to deposit the bag against her closet door, and shrug off her coat. Of course he could. Manipulating shadows and teleportation were just two of the tricks up his lengthy sleeves. Why should she expect anything less of him, at this point? Hopefully, she wasn't growing too used to his presence, or assuming that she had him figured out. Oh...that just wouldn't do, at all. He'd have to show her, yet again, exactly how mistaken she was, for growing so complacent in his company.

As she headed for the door however, to close it behind her before she began collecting her nightclothes, to change out of her daytime attire and wash up...

...she realized that her companion was simply standing in the corner, among his pillows and blankets. A new question immediately flared to life, before she could stop it:

“Where are you going to sleep? Uhh...do you even sleep anymore, like...well, like this?” Oh, boy. Yes, now that he was no longer restricted to his animal form, what was the plan here going to be? At least he couldn't argue that she wasn't being straightforward, this time around.

In response to her inquiry, he merely turned his head slightly. Sleep...? Ah, right. When he'd been forced to recuperate as that quirky deer, he'd had to take quite a few naps, on top of a regular night's rest. Now that he was mostly back to fighting fit though...well, he wasn't really looking forward to hitting the hay.

It wasn't that he didn't sleep. Everyone had to, at some point. He just didn't care very much for the act. There were far better things he could be doing with his time, instead of allowing it to pass him by due to required inactivity. On top of that, what with the last few instances he'd had, of those...unfortunate visions, gracing his subconscious as of late, upon his return to the human world? Yes, he had much better things to do, than knock out for a few hours.

Then again...he'd already explored this place from top to bottom. And, if Beth were to fall unconscious, his current source of amusem*nt, he'd be forced to entertain himself for however long, until she awakened again. Just like earlier this morning, both from when she'd first blacked out, and then passed out upon the couch.

Granted, she'd had a reason to do so then. But now? She should have been more than able to spare a night. After all, it wasn't as though she had work in the morning.

So, with that same wide smile, though his eyes were narrowed ever so slightly, he offered her his answer. “Oh, I most certainly can. However, considering the current set of circ*mstances...mmm, no. I think both of our times would be muchbetter spent in dispelling that pesky specter of slumber, don't you?” At this, Beth felt herself deadpanning. He wasn't seriously suggesting...that he wouldn't allow her to sleep, was he?

She could already feel herself starting to tense up. After everything that had happened the night prior, plus the stress of her day back in the regular swing of things, she needed a proper night of rest. Knocking out on the floor or her seat didn't count. But, it seemed as though her new roommate...had other ideas in mind. He'd said he could sleep, he just didn't want to. Why? Wasn't he just as exhausted as she was? For all her struggling and shift at the station...she wasn't the one with the injury, let alone the powers. It had to stem from somewhere – there was no way his reserves were infinite. Everybody had a limit. Right?

Beth could feel her eyebrows raise, if but slightly, as she regarded him for a few seconds, before making her way to the dresser. Hopefully, her nerves weren't noticeable upon her features. “Yeah, okay. I don't know what you're going on about, but as for me, I'm pooched.” In a couple of seconds, she was holding her nightclothes in her arms. “I'm getting changed, wiping this off, and then I'm going to sleep.”

As she slipped past him, through the bedroom door, a sudden thought crossed her mind. Although it hadn't been a problem before, she figured now was as good a time as any to set up some boundaries. After all, if he were already talking about not allowing her to sleep, then who knew what else he was capable of? He'd already demonstrated a lack for understanding in regards to personal space as it was.

“Don't follow me!” Not allowing him a chance to reply, Beth had already headed into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. Fat lot of good that'd do her in the long run though, considering some of the abilities he'd already displayed in his arsenal. But hey, she could at least say she'd tried.

co*cking his head, Alastor allowed her words to linger in his mind, though already, he was concocting ways to work around them. Following her was not a problem – of course, he could have, in the blink of an eye. But, he was enough of a gentleman, to allow her this personal time. Once she'd stepped back out of that room, however...

She was his. He wasn't looking forward to any sort of rest, and thus, if he couldn't sleep, then neither would she. If little miss Beth didn't like it? Well, she was free to dispute him about it all she wished. But, it would get her nowhere. Unless she was looking to end their arrangement sooner than expected?

In a few minutes, the young woman was outside once again, clad in yet another hoodie, this time over a long nightgown. His red eyes briefly took in the sight, before he was back to his prior state, of eagerly planning for the rest of the evening. If sleep wouldn't come easy to him, then neither would it do so for his companion. So, she'd best be prepared to provide some sort of activity or show, lest he truly lose his patience, and simply do away with her right then and there.

Yes...it really would have been so easy to kill her, wouldn't it? He was nothing like her amorous sleaze – he could end her in one move, should she displease him severely enough.

Throwing her clothes into the hamper, Beth found herself stretching up high, eyes closing as she enjoyed the pull in her arms, spine, and shoulders. It had been far too long for her liking, since she'd been able to throw herself into her comforter, and become one with her mattress. She was looking forward to the sweet release of sleep. A peaceful lull, until the morning rolled around. It was already about one a.m – she could get at least six or seven hours of shut-eye, before having to wake up and start anew.

She couldn't risk taking her pills, not with him here. But, since she was already so physically drained, it shouldn't have mattered tonight. She'd be out soon enough.

“Comfortable?” A jolt then; of course. She couldn't be allowed to forget...she wasn't alone anymore. Once again, that shadow creature was laughing at her expense, as Alastor surveyed her smugly. Vaguely recalling his previous words, Beth instead chose to brush them off, making her way towards the bed. This time, she didn't shut the door, like usual, before turning out the light. But, whatever. If he didn't want to sleep, the most she could do, was leave the entryway open for him.

Letting out a sigh, she pulled down the messy blankets. Glancing over her shoulder, Beth took note of his sharp, glowing gaze, as he stood in the corner, arms folded behind his back. It illuminated her room like a hellish nightlight. “Look...I don't really know what you're planning, and right now, I – I don't care. Just...let me rest, okay? I'll figure out something else f-for tomorrow, alright?”

Climbing atop the bed, Beth settled underneath the sheets and covers. The Sandman was calling to her; shuteye was just a few minutes away! All she needed to do, was lay her head down, and decompress. Everything else would follow shortly thereafter. Closing her eyes, she rolled over onto her side, one hand under the pillow.

Silence, for a few seconds. Then, ever so gradually...

...the sound of swing tunes. Instantly, her eyes flew open.

Okay. So. Beth was a music lover. That would never be denied. But. She also had preferences. And, one thing she'd taken note of, in her lifetime upon the Earth...she could not sleep, while music was playing. If she could hear anything, no matter how soft, her mind would automatically be zeroing in, to focus on the source of the sound, and even potentially sing along.

It was a similar phenomenon, to when her thoughts just wouldn't turn off and shut up, to allow her a chance at respite. Hence why she took her meds in the first place, though even they could not block out the sound of a catchy melody. Ah, psychology! And now, her otherworldly companion was providing the noise source, most likely intentionally as well. With a low growl, Beth found herself sitting up in the semi-darkness, to look over at him.

Alastor was saying nothing verbally, but he didn't have to. The expression upon his face spoke volumes. He was beyond pleased with himself, humming along quietly to the random music filtering through the air from his very being. His eyes continued to glow, an eerie sight to witness when coupled with his golden, razor-sharp grin and looming form. Forcing herself to hold back the tremble, Beth decided to take a shot, at an attempt to reason with the male.

“Uhh...I'm not sure, what your deal is, right now, but...could you, kinda...stop? Not that I don't like the music, don't get me wrong!” Seeing as he seemed to hail so strongly from a bygone era, Beth figured it would be best if she didn't go so far as to diss his interests. “Just...it's not helping?”

Oh, that smile...he knew darn well, what he was up to. “Who said anything about helping, my dear? You do remember my earlier words – that I have no desire, in regards to sleep?” It stretched just a tad wider, as he took in the gradually spreading disbelief to her features.

The demon took a step closer, one arm behind him, while the other was extended, a hand beckoning to her. “And, if you would like to see the next morning...perhaps you too, would do well, to join me. Unless, you've forgotten your promise?” Behind him, his shadow was towering above, an ominous doppelganger as to the possibilities lying underneath the surface in regards to his words. Beth understood all too clearly then, though she'd really have hoped to avert such a happening:

He was calling her out on their arrangement. And, should she choose to ignore him, and decide upon slumber instead...she could kiss her life goodbye. He wanted entertainment, and it was up to her to provide it, somehow, lest he grow bored enough to eschew their agreement entirely, and snuff her out here and now.

Are you freaking serious...?! What the heck am I supposed to do here, anyway – play a game of cards with him, or something?? Looks like her day wasn't over just yet.

Chapter 26: Don't Ask Me No Questions

Chapter Text

“Jeez...can't believe I actually have to do this...”

A familiar hunched figure, huddled over the low table in the parlor. Her hair fell into her eyes, and she brushed a strand away from her vision absently, only for it to drop back into place after a couple of seconds. This time, she shook her head. The gesture still didn't do much to assist.

Tap, tap, tap. Rapid clicking of computer keys upon the board, typing an inquiry into the search bar. The trusty laptop had been dragged out once more. As she waited for the page to load, Beth cast a brief glance over the top of the screen, towards her companion. Currently, his back was turned, as he stared into the kitchen.

Hmm...it really was quite tidy. No stains, no scents; very few dishes, if any, ever piled up in the sink. And ones that were, would be swiftly taken care of before the day was through. Though, on the other side of things...he hadn't seen many instances of Beth eating much to begin with. When she did, it always involved either little snacks, or that white beeping box. Just chuck whatever thing from the freezer in there, and boom. Instant meal.

But, no real cooking involved. No chopping up ingredients, working the stove or oven, mixing things together. Just a vague smell of warmed plastic and cardboard, plus whatever consumables had been heated. Usually those chicken dishes under the breaded crust. Pot pies, they were called. The others, he vaguely recalled, had been referred to as 'TV dinners'. Ugh, not an appealing name for a meal. What did that stupid device have to do with cuisine?

He paused briefly. Something was starting to take root in his mind. Perhaps miss Beth...didn't actually know how to cook?

Perish the thought! Alastor couldn't even begin to imagine existing through life, be it alive or dead, without that most basic skill under one's belt. He'd learned how long ago, through whatever method, how to at least prepare the simplest meals. As time had passed, his prowess had increased – being in the kitchen was nearly as fun as procuring the ingredients! Well, depending on what said ingredients were. Heh.

How had he learned to cook, in the first place...?

Whatever. That wasn't important here. What did matter, was that it was becoming far more apparent, that his human host was lacking in more than just a smile and consistent spine. There were quite a few areas that she could do to improve in, and as her new roommate, and even potential guardian or supervisor...wouldn't it thus fall upon his shoulders, to guide or assist her down a better path? Surely, it could even provide its own rewards, in the form of further entertainment, depending on just how quickly she took to the instruction and craft!

Another time, though. Right now, so late at night, with Beth scouring that lit up screen like some estranged, unfortunate straggler in a desert, off in a desperate search for water? No, they wouldn't make much progress there. She was far too transfixed on whatever was currently scrolling past her vision.

Granted, he could have forced her into an impromptu lesson, but...although force could be beneficial, he didn't quite feel it was so, in this case. Better to be in the state of mind to fully focus and enjoy the work, than distracted and testy. Besides...he had to admit, he was curious, as to just what, exactly, she'd been preparing for their first proper night together, after his recovery, and her rescue.

Yes...that's what he had done, wasn't it? Just like she'd said: he'd saved her life. Something so unfamiliar, and out of the norm, for someone of his ability and stature. Yet, he'd done it without hesitation.

Why?

“Alright! I think I got this!” The sudden triumphant cry had caught his attention, effectively jarring the deer demon from his musings. Beth had finished her reading over...whatever article was before her, and was now moving the laptop to the side, instead reaching inside her sweater pocket, to produce...

...a pack of playing cards. Alastor's eyes widened slightly, as he made his way over. Oh...?

“Here we go!” She dumped the deck out from its box, and began shuffling them rapidly. Not neatly, mind you, or with any sort of technique – just quickly dividing the stack into sections, and either placing them on top of the other, or slipping them in-between parts. No fancy maneuvers here, a sight which he wasn't the most used to seeing. After having spent how much time in Hell, surrounded by devoted gamblers, card tricks were par for the course. They could be quite the feat to witness, along with the games themselves.

Was little Beth...actually about to challenge him to a round? Her ocean eyes landed upon his own crimson gaze, and although she swallowed a good lump of nerves, her words were clear.

“Hey, Alastor...you know how to play King's Corner?” Yes. She was.

After seating himself on the floor opposite his companion, Beth finished her shuffling, and began laying out the cards in a cross pattern, adding one to the upper right side, before dealing out the rest. Seven cards each.

He recognized the layout, vaguely – it wasn't a high-stakes game, not nearly as much as things like Poker and Blackjack, which had both been popular around his stomping grounds, both in life and beyond. But, he had played it at least once before. Soon enough, the remaining deck was placed in the center, and their hands had been set.

The rules were simple enough: first player to empty their batch was the winner. Aside from that, the objective was to also clear the board. Each part of the cross bore a card, with a number and suit, and in order to lose cards, you had to be able to add on, in proper order. So, for example, if one corner had a 9 of hearts, you could only add on an 8 of spades, or clubs. It didn't work with red on top of red. And, just like the name indicated, beyond the cross formation, Kings were laid directly at the corners, adding on to the layout.

To start the round, one player drew a card, and from there, examined their options. If there were none to be made, they had to move on. Also, if one point could combine with another, they could be rearranged, and a new card could be laid down, to start a new side of the cross. All in all, it was a fulfilling game.

Beth was scanning her cards most thoroughly, ready to pick whatever choice was available to her. Being a good host however, she let Alastor make the first move. Which...may not have been the best decision.

He'd already looked over his hand, committing the numbers and suits to memory. A cursory glance over the table, before drawing the first card. Hmm...a seven of spades, a four of hearts, a three of clubs, and a ten of diamonds. There was also the King of clubs, ready and waiting.

He could feel the smile tugging at his lips as he'd laid down the card in his hand – a two of diamonds. From there, he'd proceeded to place down another pair – a Queen of hearts and a Joker of spades, on the King. Not bad for a first turn. He could see Beth's brow creasing slightly, as once more, her eyes had flickered between the board, and her own hand.

What a silly woman. She should have known better, far better, than to challenge a literal demon to a game such as this. He'd been playing longer than she'd been alive. He wasn't close to being a card shark – as in, he didn't live and breathe the lifestyle – but he knew how to easily hold his own. It was obvious, as Beth let out a strained sigh, before drawing another from the deck to add to her hand, that she...was not nearly as gifted as he.

It also didn't help...that a certain crafty underling, was creeping up behind her along the couch, peering over her shoulder, before slipping back to confer with its Master. A low, glitchy hiss drifted into his hearing.

“She has no moves, not yet. You're both tied, for the moment.” His eyelids lowered, casting a shadow over his gaze.

The prized 'poker face' – even if he wasn't the biggest gambler on the tables, he possessed one quite nicely. It was so easy to unnerve others with just the flash of a smile. When you didn't let any other emotions slip through, simply concealing them behind the glint of teeth and tug of lips, a perpetual joy...others would soon start to sweat, seeing as they had no idea as to your true intentions, and couldn't shake you up to drop a hint, either. They were the ones who wound up getting spooked, instead.

Another turn passed. Alastor drew a card, but it was fine, seeing as the card he'd drawn was a six of diamonds. He was able to place it down, not having to add it to his hand, before moving on. Beth, unfortunately, wasn't so lucky. She'd had to draw one more, that she still couldn't use.

Well. Who really knew how long this round would go on for. One thing was certain, though: playing so basic and clean, was just...not that exciting. As he'd pulled another card, this time having had to add it to his hand, Alastor put forward his proposition. “Beth, dear...may I make a suggestion?”

At this, her eyebrows raised, casting a hint of wariness to her features as she lifted her head. “What do you want...?”

His grin had been wide and pleased, at her making the wise choice to hear him out. “Ah, nothing much. It's just a simple inquiry...wouldn't this be so much more entertaining, if we were to, oh...raise the stakes a little?”

Now, she was lowering her cards slightly, though the apprehensive expression hadn't left her features. “And how, exactly, would you suggest we do so?” A brief pause, before she'd suddenly jabbed a finger in his direction. “And NO – I'm not adding on a clause to make a deal if I lose!” Oh, boo. She hadn't been around him in this form for nearly that long, but she could already understand, something was up. Clever girl.

His eyes narrowed, though there was no real displeasure to be found in his features. They could still have fun like this, even if he wasn't about to procure her soul so easily. He'd just have to think a bit harder, to find something memorable enough as to keep his interests satiated...as well as make his meat puppet keep squirming on the hook. “Very well. Then, I propose: if one of us triumphs over the other, they must provide...a snippet of fact, or knowledge, as to their person. I.e, you lose, you 'fess up, as it were, to whatever the winner asks of you. And, they can ask anything, so you'd best be ready to field a variety of potential inquiries.”

Alastor was smirking now, ever so greedy and devious for the answer. He knew he was putting Beth on the spot – that was the entire point. There was no way she could turn him down, if he were to invoke their agreement, but beyond that...the more she could keep him amused, the better it would be for her sake. As uncomfortable as this venture might have been...should she say no, the punishment could be quite dire, if the game were to merely end with a whimper and not a bang, once he came out on top.

Besides...as a demon, the more information he could glean as to his target, and how they worked, the better. It gave him continued power, further control over them. Like how Beth had misstepped, by telling him near to her full name. Made it that much harder for them to escape his clutches, as he gradually learned what made them tick. He could deftly manipulate and encourage them to do as he desired, should he throw said information back into their face, one way or another. Based off of how she presented herself...he had a feeling, there were possibly quite a few skeletons hiding in the female's closet.

It wasn't as though he'd actually cared to get to know her better, though. This was merely an extra tidbit, to sweeten the pot. Like he really gave a hoot as to any potential traumas or triggers this woman was hiding under the surface. He may have saved her life, and she could view him however she so chose based off that fact, but he was nothing close to being a hero. She was just another form of prey, in his view.

He could practically see the gears going nuts behind his perplexed, petrified pet's eyes, as she struggled to come up with a reply. After another few seconds of silent deliberation, she finally let out a sigh, and offered a nod. “A-Alright...let's do this. But, no tricks!” Oh, goody! So, she wasn't nearly as daft as she presented! Looks like she might just keep her pretty little head for another day!

“Perfect! Which reminds me...” The next draw of a card, to be swiftly placed down: a three of spades. Luckily, this time around, Beth was able to add one herself, as opposed to only pulling from the pile. A five of hearts. Still though, she was behind, with more cards remaining in her hand. The game wasn't very balanced in its moves right now, but still. Who knew what could happen, should it go on.

Which is ultimately what it did.

After another twenty minutes, the round was over. All four Kings had been laid out, and Alastor had just moved one of the cross ends to finish a pile, closing it before laying down the last card in his hand. Beth still had three more left in her grasp. She'd been gaping, trembling slightly even, as his red eyes had flickered to meet her own. His smile was absolutely dripping with superiority. “Well?”

She'd slapped her hand down, before swiping together all the cards, to shuffle the deck once more. “Best two out of three!” Oh, now this was interesting. Looks like she wasn't going to make it as easy for him to get to her as he'd first thought. Just what could she possibly have to hide...?

After laying out the arrangements once more, Beth made the first move. This time, she was luckier: she had a King of spades in her hand, plus a Queen of diamonds. The seven of hearts and six of spades, also in her grasp, she was able to place over the eight of clubs already on the board. She'd thrown her own triumphant smirk Alastor's way, so certain that this time, victory was within her grasp.

Following another ten minutes of gameplay, however...no. It wasn't.

His shadow had alerted him to the fact that her last two cards could possibly wrap up the game in her favor, should the next one he drew not allow him to get out the final three in his hand effectively. Thankfully, it had played out to his benefit: a five of diamonds, that had allowed him to throw down a four of clubs, and three of hearts.

She'd only been able to lay out one more, before his turn had come back around, and had granted him a Queen. Upon adding it to the board, he'd been able to move another stack across, and finally dispose of the remaining two cards in his hand. Beth was visibly starting to panic, the final card in her grasp shaking violently, as once more she'd shuffled the deck.

“I-If I win the next one, we go into overtime! But if you w-win...then, I'll give up.” Oh, such a desperate little mademoiselle. So frantic to keep him out of her past. Unfortunately...she was fighting a losing battle. And he was about to prove it to her, most thoroughly.

This time around, it had taken forty-five minutes, before the game had finished, in his favor. Alastor had to admit, the girl had put him on the ropes at one point, with a single card left in her hand, while he'd had four. It had almost been looking like a possible win for her, which would have drawn out their playtime unnecessarily long: it was almost three a.m, by this point. Ah, the Witching Hour. What a perfect time to serve miss Beth her walking papers.

“I win.” Another draw, another hand cleared. The results were staring up at the unfortunate female, practically screeching out her loss as she'd forced her gaze to meet his own. His smugness was somewhat subdued this time, but the cool taunting was evident in his vermilion eyes. Letting out a soft sigh, she pulled the deck back together, returning it to the box. For a few moments, there was only heavy silence, Beth now looking down at her legs, fists balled in her lap.

Then, she finally spoke. Though, it wasn't what he'd been expecting to hear. “Guess it really...has been awhile. My luck is gone...” Huh, interesting comment there. Lucky, eh? Since when had this put-upon woman possibly been blessed with anything? This was certainly a good starting point for what would happen next.

Another couple seconds had passed. “...what d'you wanna know?” Her voice was small, but clear. At long last. The time had come, for him to retrieve his prize. It wasn't a soul, but in the grand scheme of things, it would do quite nicely as a warm-up. So, the only question was: what would he pry from her reluctant persona?

His hand reached up, to extend a trio of fingers. She followed them attentively, as if her life depended on it. “That is all I will ask you. Three things. However...do not attempt to fool me. I can read a liar from a mile away...so, if you wish to keep your life as-is, you'll do well to stay honest.”

Beth gulped visibly, but responded with a nod. “Good. Now, first things first...you mentioned 'being lucky' at this game, not but even a minute ago. What did you mean by that?” At this, the female paled slightly. Biting her lower lip, and turning the stud below – really, such a distracting habit! - it had taken a little while, before the words had finally come to her.

“...I learned how to play...when I was younger. A lot younger. Under...certain circ*mstances. I used to be very good at following the cards, and clearing the board. Other pat – people, didn't like playing with me, for that reason.” Oh? What had she been about to say, before catching herself there? 'Other pat'? What could that have meant? “I haven't played in a long time, though. Most folks I know now, aren't into it. Not exciting enough. So...yeah. I'm rusty.”

Although it had been tempting, to have her elaborate further...Alastor figured, it might be a bit too obvious, to do so. And, there would be plenty of other opportunities in the future, should she be so foolish as to challenge him here in this arena again, to glean the rest of her history with this game. No, he wanted to keep her on her toes – never prepared for what was next in store. So instead, he moved on, to another thought that had been nagging at him for a good while now...at least, in his opinion.

“How did you come to be employed in your current profession?” The brunette jolted slightly at this, eyes widening as her head dropped down. Once more, she was staring at her knees. This time, though...oh, were her cheeks a bit redder?

After another stretch of silence, she spoke. “It...took a fair while, for me to get where I am today. A lot of work, a lot of struggle. It wasn't easy. I...had a few setbacks. I wasn't even...sure, at times, if I – I even fit, into the world I wanted to enter.”

She paused briefly then – wait, why were her eyes shining? The color in her face had faded, returning her skin tone to its usually pasty shade. “Music, though...it always held a place for me. I always...felt safe there. So, I had to keep – keep fighting. And eventually, after how many years...I made it. So...here I am now.”

Hmm. Well then. That...really hadn't given him much to go off of. Obviously, whatever she'd been through, had been quite the trying affair. He could only begin to imagine the juicy stories attached with the effort involved. It wasn't as though he'd simply woken up one day in his profession, either. Though, based off of her reaction...he could only begin to imagine, the details to their journeys, most likely differed quite greatly.

'Safe', though. That was an interesting way to put it. What could she possibly have been so frightened of, in a way that only sound could quash? And, to add to that...

...where on any of the known planes had she gotten her pipes from?

As much as his curiosity, and desire for further knowledge nagged at him, to prolong the discussion further...he would not. Alastor was still interested in keeping up that web of confusion, and he would not allow her to become comfortable, in any way, shape, fashion or form with his routine. So, he needed to move on, and think of one more satisfying question to inquire of her. But what?

It was as he'd been musing, with Beth staring off absently towards the hallway, where her bedroom door resided at the very end, that a familiar melody began to filter through his mind. Something he hadn't thought of in what felt like an eternity now...or, did it simply seem that way because of all that had occurred since first hearing it?

“Mother and child, spirit and heart,

That book of faith, to drive us apart.

A hand offensive, always raised,

Sweetness whispered, early grave.”

That song from the other day. And, once again, that unfamiliar specter came forth as well: the woman who had exuded such a presence in his afternoon vision. How? Why were these two things interwoven?

The words had come before he'd had a chance to retract them. “What was your Mother like?” They startled him, and it was safe to say, if he had been surprised, then Beth was absolutely stunned. Her sleepy eyes were wide, jaw hanging slack as if she'd been slapped. Quickly, she looked away, towards a corner of the table, most likely to collect herself.

When she did finally turn around and speak though, her voice was distant, almost dreamy. And the sheen to her stare was gone, as well. She simply looked...worn.

“...a wonderful woman. When we're together...I never want for anything. Just...she isn't...” Eh? What did that mean? Where was this stilted, riddle-like nonsense coming from? What did she mean “she isn't”? Isn't what? Why had Beth just...cut off her own thought, so abruptly?

By now, the young woman was rising from her spot upon the floor. Shutting down the laptop, to tuck it under an arm, while the deck of cards was shoved back in her hoodie. She was already making her way down the hall, towards her room. It was quite clear, through her motions, that the discussion was over.

But...would Alastor accept her answer?

It took a bit of time and musing, before he'd finally reached his conclusion. He could have easily exerted his powers, his status above her, and continued to pry. But, the sight of seeing the female on the verge of detaching completely at the last subject...didn't sit right with him. It wasn't as though he really cared about making her feel bad, no – it was something else entirely, that was eating away at him.

Seeing her so empty, over the subject matter. And remembering that melody from before, plus that mysterious face...how it had affected him, and continued to do so. The combination was not something he currently wished to encourage. The feeling sickened him, in a way he couldn't describe. Like the taste of strong whiskey and cinnamon upon his tongue. He needed it to be gone, banished and forgotten entirely.

Now, he was starting to get irritated. This was not the way things were meant to play out! This was all for his benefit! He should have punished the stupid girl, for bringing out such disgusting sensations and reactions in him. He was sorely tempted to, his shadow egging him on, as he made his way silently towards Beth's personal space. It wouldn't take much, just a snap, a strike, and then -

As she turned down the covers of her messy bed however, slipping under them so small and forlorn, tired and weary...he found himself halting. She was regarding him at long last, with a haunting, glassy green stare. The bruises and nicks to her features stood out painfully so, making her resemble a forlorn doll. So defeated and drained.

“I h-held up my end of the bargain. Please...let me sleep now, Alastor.” Her voice was small, trembling as she implored him for something so basic as sleep. His curses and heated displeasure died upon his tongue, as he was forced to turn away. The lights in her room shut off immediately of their own accord, startling the young woman slightly, but she did not question it, as his parting words reached her ears.

“Very well. Rest. I will see you in the morning.” He heard her sigh in relief, mumbling out a “Thank you”, before slipping under the blankets with a soft shuffle. After another second or two, the demon finally turned, to survey the girl as she nodded off before him.

What was this...baffling, disquieting familiarity, being broadcast to him in this moment? And why was it coming from this pathetic woman, who should have been dead ten times over, for eliciting such strange responses within him? Why was he allowing her peace and recovery here, when he should have been demanding resolution?

At long last he spun around, marching back towards the parlor. He needed to get away from her. He didn't want to look at this mess of humanity any longer. He'd deal with her in the dawn, when there was a fresh new day to torment and tease her through.

He'd gotten his answers, however meager. But at what cost? Once again, the questions were piling up. And this time...it was getting harder and harder, to brush off that nagging voice in the back of his mind, that something was seriously offhere. Alastor had never been one to panic, to lose his head, or even show concern. At most, he was curious, inquisitive.

But, what was it they said...curiosity killed the cat? What about the fearsome demon, who'd slain how many others over the course of his two, even three lifetimes, considering his rescue and revival? To figure out this mystery – could this possibly be his greatest triumph...

...or his ultimate undoing?

Chapter 27: People Are Strange

Chapter Text

Darkness. All-encompassing, pitch black and endless. No sound, just silent, inky emptiness. She could barely feel her own body, seeing as she couldn't even see a few inches in front of her face.

Then...a faint light, straight ahead. Her eyes strained to make note of its exact direction, as she slowly struggled to reach it. She didn't know what it was, or where it lead to, but it had to be better than being sucked down further into this never-ending void!

A step forwards, then another, and then one more. Gradually, that little speck was growing in her vision, until soon, it was nearly as tall and wide as she herself. It was some sort of entryway, and almost greedily, she flung herself through.

Wham! Immediately, the hard jolt. She could feel the air being knocked out of her body, as she fell onto her back, against a solid surface. Someone was towering over her, pinning her down, and all she could do was squirm, thrash, kick, swing, at her shadowy, unseen antagonist. Going from one layer of darkness to another had clearly been the wrong decision...just like how many countless other choices she'd made in her life.

What else was new?

The pressure surrounding her was nigh overwhelming. She could hear various sounds, certain words and phrases, even smell lingering scents that stung her nose and choked her lungs. Grime and sweat. Unbrushed teeth. Her fervor for freedom grew more frantic, as visions flashed before her eyes. Angry faces, all too familiar for her liking...and at the same time, far more monstrous than they'd ever been during her encounters with them. The dialogue being directed her way was harsh and unyielding.

“Shut up!”

“You...BITCH!”

This came at her from an obviously male persona – one that may have been dispatched from the world, but would certainly be slithering among the deepest reaches of her psyche for a long time. Like a gross, humanoid serpent. His assault was still so fresh in her mind; she could practically feel the sting of the switchblade, once more, grazing her cheek. The rough pulling of her hair and attire. The sensation of slimy, foul-flavored tongue in her own mouth.

Then, the next figure, one with a bitter, feminine presence. The scent surrounding her...dirt, cigarettes, and feces. She was fighting not to gag, as beady black eyes shot a glare of pure loathing straight down upon her person. The breathing coming from above was labored, as sticky hands struggled to hold her down, and wrap around her throat. These words were older, from a time long past, a place she hadn't lived at for ages...but they still served to make her blood run cold. Yet another stepping stone within her path of trauma.

“You're so jealous of me...f*cking c*nt!”

No...no, no no! These two could not be allowed to win! She hadn't made it as far as she had, lived through everything thrown her way, just to die here! She wouldn't give up! She couldn't! With a cry of both pain and rage, the latter having been an utterly unfamiliar emotion to her being for so long now, the oppressive force above her gave way, at the exact time as the ground beneath her spine. She was falling, falling, falling straight down -

Then, another slam. The force was directly in front of her. But this time, she was on her feet. And she could barely see, through a dim overhead light from the narrow hallway behind and off to the side...

A bed. A chair. A television. A chest of drawers. A mirror. A curtained, narrow window. A sliding door, leading to a porch. However, that wasn't what had her attention most notably. Her blood had run cold, as the sounds of something creaking and groaning behind her echoed throughout the small room. Whatever it was that she'd been pressed against, it wasn't completely sturdy.

She was being held in place, by a new figure. His brown eyes were locked directly with hers, full with a heated mix of emotions. He continued screaming in her face, throwing her back again and again into the rickety surface.

“What the hell's your problem?! You mooch! Why did you even come back??”

He...he shouldn't have been there. Why was he here now?? No – why had she returned? Why was this happening again?!

The other two...one was dead and gone. The second had been taken away. But this specter...had never faced a single reprimand, for every last thing he'd done to her. He was still out there, still easily ready and waiting to return, should her precautions fail. His breath rippled over her face, her skin, and it made her queasy. He was so close, too close...!

“I should...if you weren't...oh, do you know...”

Now, the contact was changing. Hands were sliding, slipping down. Arms were wrapping around, as his form pressed into hers. She could feel the weight of her body shifting, as if the world itself were going topsy-turvy. In reality, she was now lying on her side, with this...this man, if he could be called as such, in her bubble.

It was similar to the other male, who had attacked her not but a night ago in her own home. But this time...he wasn't a stalker. He wasn't a stranger. He wasn't so easily dispatched. He had started it all. She'd known him for so long, everything gradually building and warping between them...

And he'd gotten away with it. All of it. Nobody had listened, or cared, to hear and understand her plight. It was always her fault – would always be her fault. She was just a burden, something, not someone. Not human. First chance they'd gotten, they'd sent her packing. And far before that, first chance he'd gotten, he'd...he'd...

Drowning. She was drowning, so deeply, in the disgust and delirium of the past. Her head was spinning; she couldn't see anymore, could barely breathe. She could feel her heart racing though, pounding like a drum in overdrive. Her lips were moving, forming a set of words that she could only keep repeating, hoping that somebody out there would hear her pleas...and make it end. Could she even do it herself? Remove herself from what was happening? Or keep him from being her worst nightmare?

“Stop it, you're hurting me. Stop it, you're hurting me. Stop it, you're hurting me. Stop it, you're hurting me! STOP IT, YOU'RE HURTING ME!”

As if she were reciting a mantra, until that final scream. Then, the vision had shattered – literally. Just like glass in a mirror, in a violent flash of red. Fresh and tangible, as if the whole setting were bleeding. She was being washed away, away from this final oppressor, in a stormy ocean of blood...

…...

With a sharp, choking gasp, Beth came to, once more, in her bed.

Her heart was racing, as her eyes scanned rapidly across the familiar settings of the bedroom she'd been living in for the last five years. As long as she'd been working at the station, even. Gradually, her pulse started to slow, her breathing evening out, as the subdued sunny tones of the morning light seeped into her bleary vision.

She hadn't been entirely unprepared, for the thought of her last encounter possibly visiting her more than once after its occurring. Such was the nature of trauma. It had already happened before, directly after. When her life had been thoroughly thrown upside down.

This time, though...she'd seen other faces, too. Ones that she'd assumed to have banished from her thoughts completely, be it through therapy, medications, lack of contact, or simply the passage of time. She supposed that after what she'd gone through the previous night, they'd been awoken once again, to torment her subconscious. Looks like she wasn't as 'over' those issues as she'd have liked to believe.

But. For the time being, she was safe. They couldn't reach her – hadn't been able to reach her, in how long now. And they never would be able to again, either. She'd made sure of that, withholding her contact info from all but a select few.

Back to the present. Speaking of upending...where was her otherworldly companion, and just what was he doing, in these early hours?

Glancing at the clock on her phone – eight-thirty a.m, roughly about five hours of undisturbed sleep – Beth carefully untangled herself from the blankets, stretching and enjoying the cracks to her crooked spine, before making her way out of the bed. Her mouth was parched, and her stomach was growling. She wasn't about to prepare anything but a cup of coffee, but she'd grab some H20 during the process.

Hopefully, she still had an apartment to return to, outside of her bedroom.

Stepping beyond the door, Beth was relieved to see the familiar hallway, connecting her personal space to the rest of the domicile. Making her way down the narrow path, she first stopped at the bathroom, to splash some water on her face, before resuming the trek towards the living room. What she saw there...

He was simply standing in front of the window, staring out in silence. Crossing the threshold into the main area however, he spun around, that arresting, vermilion stare fixing upon her and her weary person. Her eyes squinted slightly; was that...a book in his hand? Had he been browsing her apartment again while she was asleep?

As a matter of fact, he had.

“Ah, there you are, my dear! Lovely morning it is! Good to see you refreshed and ready for the new day!” Had he...slept at all since they'd parted ways a few hours prior? It certainly didn't seem like it, as Beth made her way to the kitchen. He followed in silence, and as he drew closer, she caught sight of the novel in his grasp.

'The Most Haunted Places Around The World'? Okay, yeah – he'd have to have searched for that one. She'd buried it in her kitchen, in the lowest drawer, under the boxes of plastic bags and disposable chopsticks, after one too many nights of scaring herself stupid, more so than any horror movie. There was a difference between watching actors, and reading first-hand accounts. Why she'd bought it in the first place, who could really say.

Looks like the nosy deer demon had returned to his prior antics though, and was still intent on learning as much as he could about her tastes. Most likely, to use them against her.

“I see you have an open mind.” As Beth was warming up the coffee pod maker – another gift from Paige, seeing as she hated the stuff – Alastor was standing directly behind her, placing the book down upon the counter, as he surveyed the woman's haggard appearance. Seems as though she hadn't slept as well as he'd have thought...?

Yes, he'd taken the trouble to explore her home yet again. This time though, in his investigation of the untouched kitchen, he'd stumbled upon the book, which had provided quite the amusing distraction! Oh, if only those foolish mortals knew, just exactly what was waiting for them on the other side. Baby spooks and bottom-feeders couldn't possibly hold a candle to the true horrors that could so easily walk among them once more, such as he himself.

Once the dead were gone and buried, that was usually it. Only the most sentimental of saps, or regretful and repetitive of sods, would bother sticking around, beyond the minor demons who liked to tout themselves as being oh so high and mighty for inducing a few chills, leaving some scratches, flashing glowing gazes, or even pointlessly possessing the meat sacks wandering the surface of the Earth. Really...such simple, passe antics. He could make a far bigger bang than that.

And, he had.

Beth tried not to shudder at the sight of the familiar cover, instead focusing on the whirring machinery as the system booted up, sucking in the water to heat. “You could say that? I mean...there was no definitive proof, either way, of whether or not the afterlife existed.” Briefly, she cast a glance in his direction. “Guess I know for certain now...”

The redhead let out a hearty laugh. “Indeed! I must say though, that most of the encounters in this tome, are quite...lacking, for chills and thrills? They really only do cover the most basic of faces. Seems nobody in this world truly knows how to connect with the other side. Most of the time, anyway.”

His gaze was teasing and smug, as he now regarded her. “You can consider yourself quite lucky then, to have met me...and lived to tell the tale.” Ugh, she hadn't been able to hold back the tremor that had wracked her thin frame this time. This co*cky jerk...! He was taking quite the pleasure, in preying upon her nerves and fears. Imagine if she herself, were to write some sort of book, detailing her own experiences? She'd be laughed right out of the room, without definitive proof! But most likely, this trickster wouldn't play along, should she have decided to blow the lid off of his existence.

It took a few more minutes, but eventually, she was able to stick in the pod, and brew up her hot cup of sludge water. Now, she had to wait for it to cool. As she placed it down on the tabletop in the parlor, seating herself upon the couch, Alastor proceeded to wander over, ready to speak up yet again. What, was he going to rub in his strength and prowess some more?

No. He wasn't. “I've noticed, miss Beth...you don't prepare a suitable breakfast for yourself upon awakening. Why is that?” Well. She certainly hadn't been expecting that question. Again though, he was digging for more dirt on her and her person. And this was a subject she was both unwilling to elaborate upon, as well as simply not wanting him to know something that personal.

So, turning away, she began examining her nails. They were all at awkward, uneven lengths, seeing as their growth was sporadic, due to her biting them out of nerves. They also tended to crack and break randomly on their own. She'd given up taking care of, let alone painting them how long ago. “I'm not hungry.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “You barely eat at all.”

Oh, jeez – he'd caught on to that, too? The guy was pretty astute, she'd give him that. Surprising that he cared at all to begin with. “I...just don't have a big appetite. It's not a crime.”

Now, he was drawing in closer, leaning over the table to study her face further. Was he...could he tell she was hiding something? “You never cook. You only throw one of those miserable little meals inside that noisy box, once a day, if at that, and consider it over and done. Perhaps you should see a doctor. Not that it's really any of my business, I just don't believe that's healthy.”

At this, her head shot up, to regard him incredulously. “Exactly – it's not your business! So leave it alone!” Whoops, that had come out way harsher than she'd meant it to! His expression was darkening slightly, and it was all too apparent now – she needed to employ some damage control!

Inhaling shakily, Beth offered her apology, and what she hoped was a good enough excuse as to her lack of a structured and substantial diet. “I-I'm sorry, for snapping. Just...eating isn't a big focus of mine. And, I can't really see why it should be any different for you, either. I mean...you don't even particularly like me, yeah?” At this, he paused.

Did this woman actually think...that he viewed her unfavorably? Sure, he picked on her, and had even threatened her, on more than one occasion, as recently as not but a moment prior. Still, though, getting right down to it...

If Alastor were to be honest, he could safely say...that he was willing to tolerate Beth far more than most. She wasn't overbearing, nor overly confident in her abilities. If anything, she could have done to be more self-assured, seeing as she found herself in quite the pleasant position, as a member of his past and present occupation. She had taken him in, when she could have easily decided that his unexpected plight was none of her concern, and left him at the mercy of the modern world.

On top of that...her reactions to various stimuli were amusing, to both trigger and witness. Plus, there was still so much he didn't know about her – like why she never smiled. Alastor hated being in the dark in regards to his targets. And, possibly most important of all...

...her voice had enraptured him so. He could almost imagine, possibly, should she prove herself worthy...even engaging her in a duet. If her feeble human mind and stature could keep up with his cues and pace.

Wait, what??

His words were short and cool. “You don't annoy me. Be grateful for that much.” He had turned away, and Beth let out a sigh. Well, that was a relief. She'd probably have already been residing in his stomach, had that been the case. Another tremor then – not an appealing thought.

It was as she'd been picking up her cup, to blow on a few times before bringing to her lips for the first sip, that he'd posed the question to her: “Do you know how to cook?”

At this, the young woman had choked and spluttered, nearly shooting coffee down the wrong tube, as well as up her nose. Wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve – this hoodie would most likely have to be washed soon – she fixed him with a wide-eyed, baffled stare. With her heavy lids, it just gave her the quality of a deer caught in headlights. Or, as was more familiar to him, in the crosshairs of a skilled hunter, who had it cornered.

Mmm...

“Wh-Why do you want to know?” Oh, how funny the sight was, this red-faced, sniffling female, so desperate to appear composed, when it was all too obvious his words had struck a nerve. Whatever the reason, he would glean it soon enough. All it would take was a bit more prodding and poking of the bear, as it were. Luckily enough, she was defanged and declawed, unable to brush off his inquisition. She most certainly hadn't been expecting any sort of interest as to this subject of her life, he could be sure of that.

Now, he was regarding her once more, confident in his response. “Because, it's all too clear...that you really don't. Do you?” Watching her startled expression fall away, to one instead more ashamed and abashed, before quickly focusing her attention back on her coffee cup, the smile on his face only widened. Bingo.

This was the perfect starting point...for some fresh entertainment. In return, he'd be polishing up this sorry little sadsack, to embrace a status that, while not high-ranking by any means, would at least be a right sight better than where she'd been before. I.e, the point she was currently stuck at.

“I only ask, because...well, it's quite pitiful, really. For one to be unaware, to the joys of the culinary arts.” Beth's head shot up so fast, she was surprised it hadn't flown off her neck entirely. “And, I could do with some stimulation.”

Humming happily, the demon proceeded to spin on his heel. His prior inquiries from the night before were to finally be answered, by way of his starting up this new little game. “So! I shall grant you this favor, and teach you to do so!” Beth's jaw had nearly dropped into her lap. The coffee cup in her hand was threatening to spill its contents entirely.

Leaning over the table, until Beth was forced to draw back, lest their noses touch, he was now regarding her with a new, somewhat disturbing light in his crimson gaze. She could see her apprehension, reflected back across the two-toned scarlet sclera and iris, as well as his cat-like pupils. “However...do try to keep up, hmm? While I am willing to step into the role of instructor, should the student prove themselves inflexible, or simply far too stunted to reach...”

His gaze flashed dangerously, the faintest flare of static – huh?? - flickering across its surface, before returning to normal, as he slowly pulled away. His voice was dangerously low. “...I will not hesitate to pull the plug, on both the lesson, and this arrangement.” Upon hearing this, Beth started to sweat.

Just like the night before. He was invoking their agreement. Should she fail to keep him adequately enthused, through this new activity...she would be on her way to Hell faster than a speeding bullet. But...what exactly was he planning to do here?

By this point, the demon had headed towards her kitchen, and was rifling through the contents of her fridge and freezer. Just like he'd thought – it was devoid of any real ingredients. This simply would not do!

Standing up stock-straight, he returned his attention to the still stunned, and now quietly panicking woman. “Well then! I do believe a trip to the markets is in order!” Clapping his hands together, he proceeded to point, in the direction of the hallway.

“Chop-chop now! It's time to wake up! We have quite the busy day ahead of us, and nothing can start until you take action! So, do be a dear and get ready, hmm?” Beth wasn't being given a choice here. It was either do...or die. Literally.

Chugging down the rest of her coffee, and ignoring the slight burn upon her tongue and throat, the brunette began to mentally prepare herself, for the rest of whatever this day had in store for her. She could only hope to fulfill the role of student adequately enough, to keep her companion properly appeased.

If not, well...there went her soul. She would be the next main course.

Chapter 28: Lost In The Rhythm

Chapter Text

Heading to the shop this time around, the weather was far more favorable. Instead of the oppressive grey clouds that had been looming above, the sky was clear and blue, sun shining down like there'd be no tomorrow. Beth supposed, if she didn't pull off this current expedition and activity to the best of her abilities, she could kiss her tomorrow goodbye, too.

Hauling along the little wheeled fuchsia rucksack in front of her, Beth kept her head lowered, as she made her way down the hill, and through the hustle and bustle of the streets. Added to her usual layers was her done up face, with the mask in place. Aside from a couple of people casting a brief prolonged glance as they caught sight of her through her long locks, nothing eventful occurred on the way over. Thank goodness.

Alastor had specifically told her, before transforming once more, and hopping into the bag, “Just leave everything to me. I can guide you on what to procure.” Great. Well, so long as nobody could hear him, or catch her talking to an unseen someone with no phone or headset in sight...it would hopefully be okay?

Upon stepping through the sliding doors, Beth was blasted, with a refreshing gust of AC. She could only begin to imagine what her face possibly looked like, by this point – she was no makeup expert, and she was sweating like a stuck pig. Best case scenario, it wasn't running halfway down her face. If she'd made it through the shift at the station without any comments...then, she should be fine here, too?

“Alright,” she muttered under her breath. “What first? Where to?” How had it become so normal, for her to be talking, basically, to the air? Well, whatever. She had no hints, no clues as to what he could possibly want her to whip up. Since the discussion had originally started with breakfast...perhaps something along those lines?

“Eggs.” Welp, looks like she was right on the money with her guess. First obstacle reached, though. “Are you crazy?! How d'you expect me to carry them back? I have to walk! And they're fragile! I'd be better off if I had a car for that, but I don't, so - !”

In response to her grievances, she received a sharp stab to her left calf. Beth nearly doubled over then and there. Glancing down furiously, she saw the hint of a black tendril weaving its way back into the bag. “Don't argue. Just do as I say. I'll take care of the rest.” Alastor's tone was low, warning her of the potential consequences should she act up any further or attempt to argue. So, picking up a basket from the stack beside the entryway, she made her way into the market.

Soon enough, she was in the dairy aisle. After looking over the packs, and finding one that seemed to be in good condition, she placed it into her carrier. Not before raising her eyebrows and shaking her head at the price, though. “Sheesh...no wonder Paige buys them in bulk instead.”

The deer demon said nothing in reply to her commentary. Instead, he proceeded to offer up their next ingredient: “Cheddar.”

At this, Beth paused. “Uhh...what kind? And what style, too?” She was already making her way over to the left, a few rows down. But, the question still stood. Did he want her working with a whole block, slices, or shredded? And what flavor, too? Something basic?

“Whatever suits your tastes. You will be preparing it a touch, though. It will need to be in pieces.” Thinking for a couple of seconds, Beth decided that she really didn't want to fight with having to separate it herself, in any manner. So, after a quick glance over the shelves, she grabbed a bag of regular shredded cheese. Alastor said nothing as she added it to the basket, so hopefully that meant she had his approval over the choice.

Letting out a soft sigh, Beth brushed a loose strand of hair away from her eyes. Her head was starting to hurt a little – the bruises were still pretty nasty beneath all that concealer. She'd probably do well to take a pain pill of some sort upon her return back, on top of her spinal meds. “Next?”

His answer was quick. “Sausage.” A shake of her head. Another ingredient that required a choice as to flavor and presentation. At least they were somewhat close in area. She only had to travel down three more sections, and then turn a corner. All of the refrigerated goods were against the furthest walls.

“Fine.” This time, she figured she wouldn't ask what kind. It was most likely the same situation as the cheese – she'd have to prep it somehow, and it was on her to decide what her personal interest was, in regards to taste. Soon enough, they were in front of the meats. Scanning over the offerings, Beth eventually decided to pick a pack of Portuguese sausage. Paige had used them in her cooking before, and the bit of spice was a nice kick.

Beth really wasn't used to this setup; actually buying ingredients, as opposed to something already prepared. On top of that, she was taking orders from somebody who, although he may have known what he was doing, could have very well been preparing to off her through this activity. How many more things did they have to grab, anyway? “What else?”

Not even a second went by before he replied. “Green onions and mushrooms.” Well, now they had to backtrack, towards the produce section. It was in a corner all its own, at the opposite end of where they currently were. But, at least it was still somewhat near the back. Doing her best not to jostle the basket too much, out of fear she'd damage the eggs, as well as pushing the bag, Beth made her way towards the fruits and veggies.

It didn't take too long to locate the two things – the mushrooms, just basic ones, were in a small package against the wall, near the premade salad bags. The green onions were in the cooler section, that was periodically doused with misting spray. After tucking both items nicely in her basket, Beth turned her focus back to her guide. “Anything else?”

“Since you most likely have none, cooking oil. You shouldn't need me to explain any further.” Actually, she kind of did, but okay. At this point, she was operating on a wing and a prayer, putting her faith in this nigh-ancient, sentient nightmare fuel. Hopefully, this would be the last thing required in the list.

After adjusting her basket once more – jeez, the bottle was heavy! - Beth was doing her best not to wince, as she made her way out of the aisle. She was near the checkouts; their beeping was beckoning to her. Glancing towards her bag once more, she asked the fateful question: “Is that everything?”

A pause. Beth could almost swear, he was getting a kick out of seeing her struggle with balancing the weight. This wasn't funny – her spine was going to absolutely hate her after this! Another few seconds of silence, before he finally answered. “Yes. This will do nicely.”

Alright! We're halfway done! Thank goodness! Now, it was just a matter of getting everything bagged up and paid for, then brought back to the apartment, without any incidents. The former two were easy enough...it was the latter that had her worried, as she took her place in line. She could have used the self checkout, but technology wasn't always her friend. Plus, she needed the extra help packing. She certainly didn't want to wreck the eggs.

Once they had left the market, Beth had turned her attention towards getting the goods back the way they came, and up that long, winding hill. In order to do so, she'd had to basically cradle the bag in one arm, while pulling the roller behind her instead with the other. Her speed was severely hampered, as she had to keep eyes on both her front and rear. As much as she didn't want to lose her groceries, she also didn't want anything happening to Alastor, either.

It was as they were passing a random alleyway, that he'd suddenly called out to her. “Stop. Head down here.” Beth blinked, before looking in confusion at the bag.

“What? Why here? We have to get home, and I really don't want to - ” For her protests, she received yet another strike, this time to the back of her right knee. She could practically hear his shadow snickering at her as she bit back a swear, glowering at the rucksack. He'd nearly made her throw the whole load of groceries...!

“Don't argue. Just do as I say.” Seeing as she really wanted to keep her legs, Beth obeyed, stepping away from the traffic on the sidewalk, to instead duck down the shady side street.

Shaking her head, she returned her focus to her unseen companion. “What now?” At this, the fuchsia roller suddenly flew open, startling Beth once more. A red glow was emanating from inside, as another pair of inky vines rose out, waving in front of her almost tauntingly.

Alastor's voice was clear from below, even as she couldn't make out his form through the weird miasma wafting forth. “Give them the bag.” Her eyes widened.

What the heck was this...? She wasn't about to prod for explanations any further. At this point, between needing to know his logic, and simply getting the task over and done with, Beth was eager to accomplish the latter. So, with a trembling hand, she passed over the stuffed sack.

Snap! She almost fell over, in her rush to avoid being pulled right along with the supplies, and losing her arms. Immediately, it was enveloped by the tendrils, and sucked down, into the reaches of the rucksack. With a fluid zip, it was sealed once more; perfectly ordinary, to anyone with a basic pair of eyes. Only she knew the secret, of the true terror that resided deep within.

The demon's voice was smug and pleased. “Feel free to resume your trek now, darling. There's no need to stick around here any longer.” Oh, this son of a - ! Viewing her as nothing more than manual labor! He should count himself lucky, that she'd bothered to go along with his plans at all!

But, then again, if she hadn't...she wouldn't be here right now, would she? Holding back any further remarks, a silently fuming Beth trooped out of the alleyway, and onto the usual path.

Once they'd arrived at the apartment, she was just about ready to collapse. At least she hadn't had to carry the bundle, but still! Navigating the roller bag was work in and of itself, on top of the current stress she was feeling from the trip and situation in general. After she'd gotten the ingredients put away, it was back to bed for her. The rest of today was going to be spent further recharging.

Or not. As she was pulling off her coat and boots, another loud pop. In a flash, Alastor was standing before her, fully formed, with the grocery sack in his grasp. With another two moves, it was floating through the air, in the direction of the kitchen. He followed after it, though not before waving a clawed hand in her direction. “Come along, dear. We're just getting started.” Her jaw was starting to drop, yet again. No...he wasn't serious, right? He couldn't really be expecting her to -

In a few seconds, everything was assembled upon the countertop, and he was searching through her cabinets. His voice was slightly muffled from behind the open door, but the intent was clear. “Beth...do not make me repeat myself.” Yes. He was. Holding in a pained scream, the woman dragged herself into the space, to halt in front of the fridge. Soon enough, he was facing her, a small pan in his hand. His smile was bright and chipper.

“Well then! Let's get to work, shall we?”

In another couple of commands, he had her searching for a decently sized bowl, as well as a spatula, a chopping knife, a cutting board, a plate, and two spoons, one big, one small. Apparently, she had no measuring cups. They were missing from the equation. Alastor had tsk'ed momentarily, but ultimately was satisfied when she'd finally gotten everything together. Following a wash of hands, they'd officially begun her first cooking lesson.

“First off!” He placed the pan upon the stovetop, but made no move to turn it on. “This is going to take a little while, I imagine, so we'll leave this for a bit later.” His focus returned to the scattered ingredients. “We'll start by opening up that carton.” Gesturing towards the eggs, Beth walked over, popping up the lid. “Good! Now, I'll have you take out...oh, let's go for three.” His eyes were shining as she did so, placing them down upon the counter.

That look...it was different than the usual sort of joy she saw in him. This stare...wasn't nearly as intimidating or frightening as usual. He seemed...genuinely enthused, to be engaged in the current activity between them? Beth felt her heart skip, as he picked up one of the eggs between two fingers, before turning his attention towards the bowl.

With a flick of the wrist, and two strikes against the edge, the egg was cracked. In another move, he had it between both hands, and was pressing in against the center, dumping the contents smoothly. It fell in perfectly, the yellow yolk staring up at Beth like a large eye. That's how she'd heard it referred to as a child, when her Grandma had used to make breakfast for everyone.

“Hopefully, this won't be too difficult for you to accomplish.” Huh? Beth's attention returned to the present moment, as she glanced down, to see him holding out the next egg to her. Uh...uh-oh. Looks like it was her turn now.

“I've never done this before!” She hadn't meant to sound so panicked, even as she'd taken it in her trembling grasp. Alastor's eyes narrowed slightly, but the light in them did not dim. His words were both encouraging...and worrying.

“Practice makes progress. So progress.” She wasn't getting out of this. With a deep but quiet inhale, Beth prepared herself.

There was no way she could pull it off nearly as easily as he had. For one, the bowl kept shifting slightly every time she attempted to strike it. A dark hand reached across, to hold it in place. Although she was grateful for that little bit of assistance, Beth couldn't help feeling embarrassed, for having needed it in the first place, as once more, she resumed her efforts.

Finally, the soft sound of something giving way. Bringing the egg up eye-level, Beth saw that, indeed, there was a jagged line running across the surface. Looking towards her instructor, she saw him nod. Trying not to shake, she held it over, and dug her fingertips into the middle of the crack. It wasn't reacting to her touch, and her brow furrowed. Pressing a bit harder -

“Ah!” With a loud crackling and a plop, the innards of the egg had fallen into the bowl...but, not without a casualty. Peering over the edge, she saw, to her dismay, that there were a few little pieces of shell scattered among the yolk...which was also bleeding out.

Beth wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. No...this was not how it was supposed to turn out! There was no way she could do this! She was absolutely going to die! Doing her best not to panic, and block out those familiar nagging, mocking voices, her gaze darted around. Their lines were clear as crystal; as if they'd just been uttered the other day.

“He's too good for you! You can't even cook!”

“What? How come you can't do this? It's common sense!”

“Stop asking so many questions! So stupid!”

Now, she was glancing towards the taller demon. Perhaps...they would be the last thing she heard, before he took her head for this failing?

He was studying the bowl quietly. After a couple of seconds, he proceeded to reach in, and pick out the shards of shell. Tossing them aside, he returned his stare to her. Beth was already instinctively ducking, trying and failing to hold back the tremor to her tone.

“I'm so sorry! I t-told you, I've never done this before, but I – I didn't mean to - !”

In response, a sudden finger to her lips. In another move, the last egg was in her hand. She gaped at it, almost incredulously, then at him, wondering what on Earth he was thinking. She'd absolutely decimated the other one – why was he bothering to trust her a second time??

“Like I said...practice makes progress. Do it again.” Pointing towards the bowl, he offered a few parting words of advice. “Why don't you hook your fingertips upwards, as opposed to simply just pressing into the middle with the pads?”

Beth blinked, so tempted to slide her hand down her face in a familiar gesture of being stressed. But, she resisted, choosing to instead bite at the back of her stud – ouch, a little too hard! - before returning her focus to the bowl. Once more, he held it for her. This time around, she attempted to angle her strikes against the rim, and was satisfied when the familiar sound of shell cracking finally came about.

Okay...second try. Here's just hoping...that I'm not completely a lost cause. Doing her best to hold back the shakes, Beth held the egg over the top. Curving her thumbs, she could feel the tips of her nails pressing into the surface, where the line ran. After another couple of seconds...

“Oh!” This time, the drop into the bowl was clean. The smaller pieces of shell were catching inwards, instead of scattering below. The yolk hadn't broken either! It wasn't nearly as flawless as his display had been, but Beth was simply relieved that she'd managed to pull it off. Looking towards Alastor, she was glad to see his silent nod of approval.

“Nicely done. Now, it's time for beatings!” At this, Beth jumped. What?? Upon seeing her expression, he let out a laugh. “The eggs, dear. Nothing else. You can't just eat them, let alone cook them, like this. We're not doing sunny-side up. That's a lesson for another time.”

Beth could feel her pulse starting to ease, as she offered her own nod of acknowledgement. “R-Right...right. Wh-What do we use for that?”

He shook his head, before holding out the larger spoon. “Not 'we' – you. Go ahead, start whisking them together.” Seeing what it was, and how you used them to stir things, Beth could only assume, it was something akin to that which she was being expected to perform here. Vaguely recalling what she'd seen on television, she was now certain this was the proper course of action, as she stuck the utensil directly into the middle of the eggs, and started mixing.

After a good few whips and spins, the yolks were blended into one golden batter. Another nod from her teacher, as the male turned his focus towards the shredded cheese. In an instant, the bag was open. Surveying its contents for a moment, he passed it over to Beth.

“Add some of this in, and stir some more. However much you think is needed.” She did as was asked of her, doing her best to both fill, and at the same time, not overflow the mix. A few more whisks, and the cheese had been combined nicely. Her eyes were widening just so, at the realization, that in spite of these being baby steps...

...she was actually doing something she'd never thought possible: cooking.

“Splendid! Now, time to move on!” Another wave, and the three other ingredients were laid out upon the cutting board, set up to the far side. The sausage, green onions, and mushrooms, ready and waiting to be implemented. Passing over the gleaming blade, point up – sheesh, wrong way! - Alastor was grinning at Beth like it was the greatest gift he could be offering her.

“I do hope you already know how to use one of these!” Uhh...to a degree, but most likely not the way he was expecting. Holding back another involuntary tremble, Beth took the knife by the handle, and returned her focus towards the chopping board. Where to start...?

She decided to begin with the green onions, seeing as they seemed to be the easiest of the trio to get through. Alastor nodded once more, stepping aside to allow her space. With a silent gulp, Beth began her new task.

Although they weren't all uniform in size, she had an idea of what they should look like, from having consumed things like miso soup at restaurants. In a short while, the stalks were in pieces. Carefully sweeping them into a pile on the side, she fixed her gaze upon the next one in line: the sausage.

From what she knew of mushrooms, they were always cut into that specific shape, along with not quite being slivers or chunks. She wasn't looking forward to that effort, so she'd save it for last.

Once more, she took up the job, finding that this time...it was a bit harder. The meat was thicker, obviously, and she had to keep it in place, which ran her the risk of cutting her fingers, should she misstep. She knew there was a technique to holding things while chopping, she'd heard it mentioned before. But whatever it was, she had no clue. And Alastor wasn't saying anything either, merely watching in silence. Since he hadn't attempted to correct her yet, she figured that was as good a sign as any to keep at it.

“Ick...it's so oily.” Upon finishing with the sausage, Beth headed for the sink, to wash off the excess. Now, at long last, the final hurdle: those pesky fungi. They were, quite obviously, on top of needing to be cut a certain way, weirdly designed, thus harder to hold onto. Letting out one more sigh, Beth picked up the knife for the last time.

Nope, there was no way in Hoboken, New Jersey that she'd be able to get that shape right! The pieces were all uneven and oddly angled, while the mushroom itself was tough to slice through. She could only begin to imagine the look on her instructor's face, as she struggled yet again, to keep the piece she was working on, from flying off the board.

That was when, as she shoved the blade in, slicing once more -

“Ah! Damn it!” The knife fell with a clatter. Alastor's ears twitched, his sharp gaze immediately zeroed in on the girl before him. She was gritting her teeth, breathing hard, and clutching her hand. He could smell it in the air, before he'd registered the crimson line in his vision, slowly seeping down along her finger.

Beth had cut herself. And, from the looks of it, the wound wasn't small.

She hadn't meant to swear. It wasn't like she'd never experienced this sort of pain before, be it from a piece of paper, a skinned knee, or even...yeah. It wasn't unfamiliar. She had no tears to cry. Just...she hadn't felt it in so long. And, of all times, it was happening now, in front of Alastor!

Speaking of...what was he doing? He must have seen what had happened, but what was going to be his reaction? He probably wouldn't be too happy with her...

Suddenly, the swoop. The looming shadow. And that familiar touch, wrapped around her wrist and hand.

Well. Looks like there was her answer.

Chapter 29: Blood And Roses

Chapter Text

The red of Beth's blood was as vivid as the crimson stare focused intently on the fresh drop, running down from the split in her skin. She was reminded, for but a moment, of the shared instance between them, when he'd first transformed, a night or so ago. How he'd held her hand in his, strong and steady, but without discomfort.

How someone like him could touch another without causing them pain, based off of how he conducted himself and presented, she didn't know. But she wasn't about to question it any further; the wound was stinging, starting to throb, and it was causing her to wince. It was annoying, not to mention messy.

Looking at the way he was so fixated on the injury, though...Beth had a feeling she wasn't getting her arm back anytime soon. Not unless she broke whatever this spell was that he was under. So, with a faint yank, she attempted to pull away. “Y-Yeah, I know. I'm an idiot. Not a pro, and I – I screwed up. Just let me go, and I'll - ”

But, she was cut off entirely by his next actions. The words flickered and died upon her tongue; without hesitation, he was lifting her hand upwards, towards his lips. Beth could feel herself starting to pale, her heart hammering like a pugilist in the middle of a workout on his unfortunate bag, as slowly, his mouth started to open.

What the frick is he doing?! Was this guy about to...take a bite out of her, or something?? Now, Beth was starting to panic. In fear, she began to struggle. “Hey, no – don't!” Whatever it was she was telling him to refrain from, she didn't know, and it didn't matter. His grip tightened, and her heart very nearly dropped, to be tangled among her innards and intestines.

Then, almost teasingly, a long tongue slipped out...

...to once more, lap up the blood that had been spilt. Beth was about to faint.

The look on his face, in his eyes...yes, it was all too obvious. He was relishing in the flavor of her lifeforce, akin to how she supposed a Vampire would, while having cornered its prey. His expression...was a dark sort of bliss, and she knew, knew deep in her soul, that she should have been terrified. She should have been fighting, with every last scrap of strength to her person, to get away and end the moment.

But she wasn't. Instead, all she could do was watch, her heart racing, cheeks now starting to flush, as she felt the faintest sensation of fang against flesh. His tooth had just barely caught, brushing its tip along her finger. The thought of what sort of damage those teeth could do, should they have been put to proper use, like they had against her assailant, was both horrifying...

...and exciting??

“Blood magic...” The words were murmured, nearly under his breath, as that haunting scarlet gaze drifted up lazily, languidly, to meet her own. Beth felt her breath hitch in her throat at the sight, unsure how to respond. What was he on about now?

A heated, halting sigh left his mouth, grazing her skin and the wound, causing her to shiver. “It is...a very powerful bond, near impossible to break. Most will not touch that sort of spell, not without preparation and full understanding of what they are about to undertake.” Upon hearing this, Beth felt that familiar fear begin to creep in yet again.

No...what was he saying? He wasn't trying to insinuate...that they were permanently bonded together, or something? That she'd never be able to get away from him?!

As if reading her thoughts, he spoke once more. “Don't worry, my dear...there is no casting to be found here. I simply...must acknowledge, that your flavor is exquisite. Like a fine wine...be proud. While human blood is very tempting, and quite energizing for a demon...not all of it is desirable, in its composition. Consider yourself blessed...”

Then, the moment was over; Beth's hand was now raised in the air, in front of her. There was nothing holding it in place. Alastor had turned away, arms folded behind his back. Every last trace of spillage was gone; the wound had been licked clean.

“You should probably go and get that patched up. We still have some work to do.” And now he had taken up in front of the board, deftly and rapidly slicing through the remaining parts of mushroom. Nodding slowly, Beth spun around, almost drunkenly, making her way towards the short hall. Unbeknownst to her, a pair of eyes was watching, narrowed slightly, though not malevolent in its stare.

But then...what was that look supposed to mean?

Yes...truly, the fates had been smiling on him, upon having his path cross with this strange, awkward female. Not only was she so trusting and naive, but she bore the voice of an angel...and the blood of one, too. He'd tasted many a vein in his day, before and after his time on Earth. But, even as it had been so long that human lifeforce had passed his lips, he could safely say: Beth's was possibly some of the best he'd ever consumed. A perfect balance, he could feel the power surging through him, just itching to come out and play.

The smile on his lips was ready to rip right off, what with how hard it was pulling upwards. For all his mockery of the woman, and his threats to her safety and sanity, one thing was certain: no one else would be allowed to shed her blood, as long as he was around. It was a precious commodity, that not a single other soul could touch. Should anyone attempt to wrest his prey away from him...

...they would be sorry. He'd make sure of it.

A pause then. Hmm...had he ever been this possessive, over any of the targets he'd ever pursued, be they human or otherwise? Another moment of deep thought. He...really couldn't recall. But, oh well. First time for everything, right? After all, this entire return trip to Earth was a new experience for him, what with seeing how much the world had changed, on top of being tethered to this oddball.

“Uhh...hi again?” And there went his thoughts; Beth had returned, a fresh bandage wrapped around the cut. She'd taken her time to examine it thoroughly, and although it had bled a fair bit, thankfully, she could say, it wouldn't require any further attention beyond some medication and a cover. He spun around, giving her a fresh grin, one that wasn't threatening to take over the world.

“Ah, welcome back! I do hope you're feeling better?” Mmm...no, he wasn't, not particularly. But, if she weren't, then the rest of this lesson and game would fall apart, and that was not acceptable. So, he had to present at least some sort of care towards her prior predicament. Besides...

He hadn't seen her smile. So, the chase couldn't end just yet. Hopefully, miss Beth would see to that on her end, as well.

The brunette gave him a brief, sheepish stare, as she headed for the cutting board once again. “Uhh, yeah...I'll live. Thanks...” A momentary flicker of something across his gaze, before it was replaced, with the same unearthly bright enthusiasm in regards to their work.

Seeing that the remainder of her past task had been taken care of, she now looked at Alastor in mild questioning. “So...what's next?” Since the ingredients were finished being assembled, where did they go from here?

He motioned towards the bowl. “Bring that over, if you would.” Nodding, Beth did as asked. From there, he proceeded to sweep everything inside the mix with a swing of his hand, and a swirl of power. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight, and he could feel the smug satisfaction starting to creep in. Both at her expression, and the feeling of pure energy surging through him. Yes...this was a perfect arrangement, indeed.

Perhaps...it wouldn't be so bad, to wait for his companion's soul a bit longer? Perhaps.

“Now, stir that all up once more.” Grasping the spoon, Beth began her assigned task, while Alastor turned to face the stove top. It was a little different than what he was used to, but not too hard to figure out. In a couple of moves, it was lit up, knob turned to five, the burner gradually heating the empty pan. From here, he added a small spoonful of cooking oil across its surface, turning the pan a few times to get the substance spread around.

Beth was watching in silence, committing the image to memory. At some point, she'd have to do this herself – he'd most likely done it this time, to ease up the amount of work she had to complete, what with her unexpected injury. How...thoughtful of him, she supposed.

“Add that in.” He pointed at the bowl. Taking a deep breath, she walked over, carefully tipping it above the pan. The thick, chunky mixture slowly spilled out, filling the whole surface in two seconds. Placing the empty container back onto the counter, she looked at him yet again. “So...do we just wait for it to finish cooking, or...?”

He chuckled softly. “No, it still needs a touch of work here and there.” Picking up the spatula, he passed it over. “Just keep stirring, so it won't stick. Eventually, it'll form together. You can turn off the stove, and plate it then.” Well...guess they'd finally reached the end of the lesson? Thank goodness! Standing over the pan, Beth began the last task assigned. It was all too soon, that she'd implemented the three steps he'd given her...

...and was now looking at a pretty darn decent omelet, if she did say so herself.

I really...I did it, I made that? Even if she'd had a bit of supernatural help, and gotten hurt in the process, she could safely say: the lesson had been a success. She'd done something she'd never have thought she'd be capable of, not in a million, billion years.

"Oh...?" Alastor was surprised, just a tad, to see Beth turning away quickly, brushing a hand over her eyes. Was she...trying not to cry? Was it the onions, or... “Darling, whatever is the matter?” There was no concern to be found in his voice, mainly just inquiry. As expected.

Shaking her head, Beth returned her gaze to the completed product upon the plate. “I-I'm fine! I just...got something in my eye, that's all.” Like she was really going to say that she was getting a little teary over something like cooking. As was obvious by this point, Alastor could do this sort of stuff in his sleep. He wouldn't understand her emotions. He wouldn't understand, just why, exactly, this accomplishment was so important to her.

A vision then, spotty and faded, but still near and dear to her heart: being in the kitchen on a Saturday morning, with the scent of a fresh breakfast rising upon the air. After a long, hellish week at school, a nice, home-cooked meal, since there was no rush to get anywhere on time.

The room was cluttered, but welcoming. Papers and magnets on the fridge, a few cookbooks visible under the medicine cabinet. A small folding chair and table, in front of a television set. An elderly woman was standing at the stove, while she paced back and forth, between the dining room and kitchen. Debating whether or not to bother with cartoons, or listen to the radio instead.

As much as she wanted to stay outside the whole time, waiting for breakfast, and the TV would have allowed her to do so...at the same time, special weekend morning broadcasting! It was always so much fun, how creative the DJs out here would get with their programming.

And there, poking fun at her enthusiasm in the dining room, reading a paper, in one of the rare peaceful moments she could recall...

“Why don't you take that to the table?” Beth was startled from her musings, by a now familiar voice breaking her train of thought – as if a movie reel had skipped. In a trance, Beth proceeded to pick up the dish, and head for the parlor. After procuring a fork and knife from the drawer, she was seated in front of her creation.

Just as she was about to enjoy the first bite, however, a flash of red to her left. Alastor was seated behind her upon the couch, off to the side. Tilting her head slightly, the words were leaving her mouth before they'd had a chance to fully register in her mind.

“Alastor...do you want to try some?”

He'd almost jerked back, as if he'd forgotten she was there. Or, had her question simply caught him off guard that strongly? When he did answer, it was with a full, mirthful laugh. “Ahahaha...you are quite the kidder, miss Beth. While I appreciate the offer...no, I must decline. Being as I am now...I have no need for human dishes.”

Hearing this, the woman blinked, not exactly registering what he was saying. “But...you used to eat meat all the time as a deer. Do you...not need to eat now, or something?”

At this, he shook his head, waggling a finger. “Dear...that was as a creature of your world. In my disguise. As I am now, your food serves me no purpose. I must adhere to the culinary habits that all my kind bear: if not meals procured from Hell itself, then...”

Now, he leaned forwards, eyes shining with a new hunger, his teeth seemingly sharper, as that same long tongue slid over them in a smooth sweep. “...the flesh of your kind. I am a demon, after all.” The low chuckle that followed only served to make the hairs on Beth's neck and arms stand on end further, as he added on an addendum. “Though...my own also make for quite the tasty morsels as well, should I be unable to find anything else.” That's right...he wasn't just a monster, he was a cannibal, too.

Beth quickly turned away, suddenly not sure if she wanted the meal she'd gone through the trouble of putting together. “Y-Yeah...” She'd never get used to this level of the paranormal, and how they worked!

Or perhaps...it was just Alastor who operated this way?

Suddenly, a warm breath grazed her ear, a hand resting lightly upon her shoulder, clawed tips barely grazing the fabric of her long sleeve. That same chuckle tickled her hearing, as a soft sigh followed. “Unless...you wish to offer a bit more of yourself for sampling?”

Beth nearly stabbed through the plate into the table.

In an instant, she was on her feet, making her way back towards the kitchen. “I-I'm gonna eat over here! I can stand, it's n-no problem at all!” Alastor had to practically swallow the laugh that threatened to burst forth, at the expression upon his human charge's features. Goodness, but she was so flustered! Where on Earth had that cherry hue come from? Her eyes were bugging out, as her frantic, nervous chewing alternated between her petal-pink lips, and the stud below.

Wasn't she just a treat? In more ways than one...

Once she'd been able to calm down, and return her focus to the plate before her, Beth proceeded to slice off a piece, and bring it to her mouth. Upon first bite, her eyes widened. It...was really good! Holy cow – I made this?? Now, without hesitation, she was absolutely devouring the meal, barely slowing down to even breathe.

The demon seated upon her couch said nothing, simply watching in amusem*nt at his pet's reaction – as if she hadn't eaten for days. Seeing the pattern of her habits on a regular basis...he wouldn't have been surprised if that was actually the case. In no time at all, she'd cleaned the plate. Not a scrap of crumb was left behind.

“Satisfied?” Yet again, his voice made her jump. But, at least it wasn't accompanied by his face less than an inch away from hers. Looking towards her companion, Beth had to nod, before scooping up the plate and utensils, to wash in the sink.

“Yeah...it tasted amazing. I haven't...had anything like that in forever.” No surprise there.

A brief pause then. The water was running, but she wasn't making any motions to clean. Alastor watched curiously, as her gaze turned to face him. Although there was still no trace of a smile to be found on her face, he could tell...she was happy.

After a few moments of silence, she spoke. “Umm...thank you.” Although it didn't register visibly, Alastor could feel himself tense. There it was again...those two words, from her. Whenever she said them...it was different, from any other time he'd heard them before. Something about the way she said it...brought up a sensation within him, that he couldn't quite explain...

...and wasn't even sure if he should. If he wanted to.

“W-Without your help...I'd still be a full-blown dunce, and not know any sort of way around my own darn kitchen. I mean – I'm no expert yet, by any means. But...I think, I'm on the right track. So...yeah. I really appreciate...what you've done for me here.” Beth's cheeks were a faint shade of dusty pink, as she returned her attention to the dirty dishes. The faucet squeaked, as she began the task of cleaning them off.

And there, in the parlor...Alastor continued to ponder.

Why? Why did it affect him so, when she, of all people, spoke to him in such a way? What did it even matter, if she were grateful for his assistance? She was just a distraction, a bit of entertainment before the real show began. Once he'd gotten her soul, however long that took, then it was all over. There'd be nothing standing between him and the modern world, and hey – he could probably even return to Hell at his leisure, seeing as there was nothing tying him down or holding him back! That was what he was aiming to achieve, yes?

At this, the voices in his head had gone silent. Even his shadow, aggressive and demented as it usually was, seemed to be at a loss for words. Oh, come now! They couldn't seriously say, that they were attached to this mess of a realm, let alone this feeble, meandering woman?

No matter if she could sing. No matter if she'd never smiled. No matter if she could uphold the standards of his profession without breaking a sweat. No matter even if there was still so much about her that he was as yet not privy to – he'd figure it all out in time, soon enough. Nobody could hide from him, not for long. Beth was no exception. He'd break down those barriers, get to the sensitive soul at the very center, and do with her as he wished. He'd claim her, just as he had so many others before, once the chase had petered out, and he'd lost interest.

By that time, she'd be worn and tired as well, and would probably even welcome the respite of joining his chain. What was really so bad about being bound in eternal servitude? If she were so grateful to him, then she could pay it back, by being at his every beck and call, once the time came to cross over to the other side.

Which also reminded him...just what, exactly, would her final wish be for him to grant? His brow furrowed slightly then.

When they'd first had this discussion...she'd asked of him, something that he could not acquiesce. She'd wanted him to break the very laws of Heaven and Hell itself – something that no mere mortal, or even demon, had ever bothered to request. She'd gone so far, as to both revere and humiliate him, in one fell swoop. And then, had attempted to cast him away entirely following that, as if he were so easy to push aside!

No...oh, no no no. You didn't get to cut the ties. He decided, when he was good and ready, to be done with you. And most of the time, that end came swiftly, once either a human's life had reached its conclusion...or he'd simply gotten bored.

But, so far...it didn't seem as though either option, was presenting as a possibility for miss Beth. Which was startling, to say the least. How could someone so broken and beaten down, hidden talents notwithstanding, bear such a labelling?

By this point, Beth had finished the dishes, and had placed them on the rack to dry, awaiting future use. As she proceeded to wash her hands and wipe them off, her gaze darted over, to fix upon the lanky male reclining on her couch, seemingly lost in thought. Her gaze softened for but a moment, as silently, she took him in.

You know...if he wasn't nearly so scary and ruthless, he might actually be...kinda-sorta...handsome? Even charming? Beth felt her heart skip, at this acknowledgement. She knew, that it was an absolutely abhorrent train of thought she was tempting here. Nay, deplorable – to think, that an unholy creature of the night, could be in any way, shape, fashion or form, attractive to her??

At the same time, though...again, her mind was wandering. As a human...what could he have possibly been like, to produce such a colorful, unique, and utterly cruel character in death? A cool customer, even as he traipsed through the many puddles of blood that he himself had shed of others. Beth couldn't deny – the pull was strong, to know more, learn more, even potentially...

Grow closer? Another thud of the heart then.

No...this was all wrong! She shouldn't want any of that! She needed to keep her head above water, because should she show any sort of weakness...she could kiss her life goodbye. He'd pounce on it, like the hunter he was. There was no mercy, no remorse to be found in this monster. And she couldn't just let nature take its course. Beth had to fight back! She had to drive him out!

Her footsteps were soft in his hearing, as she approached him. He looked up immediately, smile in place like always. His head was co*cked at a slight angle, and Beth had to look away, in light of the thoughts she'd been having just a few seconds prior. “Yes? Can I help you?”

Beth could feel the nerves creeping up her spine and her chest, threatening to strangle her where she stood. That's right – why had she come over here in the first place? Surely, it wasn't just to talk some more, was it?

Seeing his bright, inquisitive stare reflecting her own hesitant one however, Beth figured it'd be best for her to come up with something to discuss, lest she simply look like an even bigger idiot than usual for wasting his time. It was as she could taste the last few traces of the omelet upon her tongue, that the words came to her:

“Alastor...where did you get that recipe from?”

Huh? Well. This...was not what he'd been expecting to hear. Granted, it wasn't like it was a bad question, by any means. Surely, it was fitting – Beth had enjoyed her meal, and as such wished to know its roots. So, she was asking the teacher who had provided the knowledge in the first place. And, it wasn't like it was that complicated of a concoction to begin with. So, he could share this information, yes?

Offering her another wide grin, the demon prepared to speak. “Ah, I see! Well, it's very simply, really! I found it - ”

That was when he froze. Where...exactly, had he obtained that particular dish from? He'd said it himself: the composition wasn't complex. So surely, its sources had to be basic as well? Probably a random cookbook when he was alive, or even some restaurant in Hell, seeing as he was always on the lookout to obtain decent fare, and expand his culinary repertoire.

But, the more he thought, the harder it was to come up with an answer. The visions were blank, fuzzy, blurred. As if there was some sort of barrier in place, blocking him from recalling this most simple of memories. Letting out a faint growl – that Beth picked up on, taking a small step back – he could feel his teeth grind just slightly, catching against the inside of his lips. Why wasn't this -

Then, the break.

“Here we go – this should work! I think it'll do just fine as an introduction! Are you ready, little one?”

A soft voice. The gentle touch of a woman's hand, cupping his face as he nodded happily. A warm smile, beaming down at him, before the figure turned away, to begin gathering supplies and ingredients. He stood there, enveloped by the smells of a functioning kitchen, and the scent that only she bore, so comforting and reassuring.

Nothing could go wrong. Nothing would ever be wrong, so long as she was there -

Chapter 30: Red Right Hand

Chapter Text

“Alastor?” Beth's voice brought him back to the present. “Are you okay...?” Blinking rapidly, the demon realized that he'd blanked out for a few seconds. Oh, no – perish the thought! Letting down his guard in front of this weakling, and all over...

...a simple question?

Beth felt herself jump, as with a sudden start, the male had risen from the couch, immediately turning away. His arms were folded behind his back, like usual. But, his posture...while rigid as usual, there was a definitely different aura emanating from him. A mix of both warning, should she attempt to draw any closer, for whatever reason...and something almost wounded?

“It's of no concern where I obtained it from. I have been alive for far longer than you – before you were a thought in your parent's minds, should they have even existed, too. I have my sources.” Jeez, rough much? That was certainly one heck of a brush off!

Beth could feel her brow creasing, as slowly, she turned away, to head towards her bedroom. “Fine, then. Keep your secrets. See if I care. Thanks, anyway.” She didn't look behind her before leaving, to regard him once more – if she had, she would have seen him, glancing over his shoulder at an angle. His eyes were slightly narrowed, following the female's movements until she disappeared down the hall. The faintest sound of a door opening and closing reached his hearing then – she never did seem to like slamming them. Briefly, he wondered why.

Then, his thoughts switched. That...had been close. Far too close, for his liking. Something...something he couldn't explain, had come bubbling up to the surface, when he'd forced himself to remember; had placed that pressure on his mind to recall the details of where he'd collected that recipe from. And the vision it had brought forth...was not reassuring.

That woman. Once again, she was haunting him. He knew it was her, the one from his fateful daydream. Who she was, let alone what she represented, or even who she could possibly be, was as yet unknown.

What was obvious though, was that she...had no place in his current life and standing. He had no time or room for such sentimental schlock, thank you very much! Every time he saw her, no matter if her features were hidden from his piercing gaze, he knew – she meant something very dangerous for him. Deep inside the very being of a demon, there were certain barriers that were never meant to be unlocked. Lines that couldn't be crossed. She represented those two statements, whole-heartedly.

Whenever he saw her...there was a mix of sensations that filled him and his being. An overwhelming sense of heated disgust, repulsion at her gentle nature and what she could potentially represent beyond that: vulnerability. A personal failing.

At the same time, however...there was also a strange sense of peace that followed her, as well. The memories, or images that came along with her presence – he refused to believe that these events being viewed in his mind's eye could have ever happened – were bizarrely, almost...soothing, in spite of never being completed, or being cut off so violently, in regards to the first vision.

Even the strange song he'd heard on the radio that day – he knew, instinctively, that the reaction had something to do with her. It tied in with whatever sort of bond or tie she bore upon his person. There shouldn't have been any sort of connection at all! But there was, unfortunately. And, the first time it had been activated so strongly...

...had been while he was here. Living with little miss Beth.

At this, a nip of the tongue. Whoops – a bit too much pressure there! Now he could taste his own lifeforce, seeping into his mouth. Tsk'ing to himself, he made his way towards her windows.

It was true, though. These odd moving pictures – like living movies, as it were, had only started showing up after he'd been brought here, to stay with this both overly-emotional, and ridiculously guarded, human enigma. In Hell, he'd never been aware to any of these snapshots. He'd been free in reigning supreme upon the streets, collecting souls and territory at his leisure. And, even while alive, he...he...

That was another issue, too. The position he was witnessing these moments from – it wasn't just as some silent observer on the outside looking in. No, he was actively a part of the events; smaller than he was used to being though, and completely at the mercy of this strange womanly apparition. Talking to him, coaxing him on, guiding him, almost like a...like a...

A slam of the fist then, against the glass. Luckily he'd held back, otherwise he'd be picking shards from his hand, and Beth would have come running out, should she have heard, chiding him for further property damage. Like he really cared about such matters right now. It was one thing if these little spontaneous 'daydreams', as it were, occurred on his own time, when he was alone. That was fine, or fine enough. He could find a way to put up with them, before figuring out an answer.

But this instance...this time, was risky. It had happened right in front of someone who couldn't be allowed, under any circ*mstances, to see him as anything but what he truly was: a bonafide monster, on both planes of existence. Beth could never be allowed to think of him beyond that. Should she get it into her head for but a second, that there was something in him that could potentially be...reached, or even reasoned with, for her own personal gain...

Oh, that. Just wouldn't. Do. At all.

Beth. Beth, Beth, Beth. By getting closer to her, he was slowly but surely securing her demise. Making certain that he would be the victor of this weird little game they had set up. Was she some sort of masoch*st, putting herself through this stress and torment, when it would have been so much easier, to simply just...give up, and let go?

On the other hand, though...being around her, for whatever reason, more than anybody else he'd ever encountered, was triggering things in him, things that had no business existing. He wasn't weak, he wasn't innocent – he was the one and only 'Radio Demon', as they'd christened him on the ruthless streets of the fiery pits! He was in control! He was here to haunt, to torment and manipulate! He was the bringer of nightmares, whether or not people played nice, or tried to take a gamble, and test fate. He wasn't the worst taskmaster, but he certainly hadn't amassed his reputation for nothing!

If Beth were to attempt to bridge that gap, in any way, shape, fashion or form...should she get too close for comfort, like a moth to the flame...

She would be sorry.

Now, Alastor was making a steady, quiet beeline, across the parlor, and down the hallway. Without turning the knob, the bedroom door swung open silently, allowing him a glimpse in at its lone occupant. Beth was sprawled out on her back, eyes closed, as the charging radio played another random tune – something about a bus stop in the rain, bringing together a pair of lovers. How revoltingly sappy. Her breathing was steady; he could tell, she wasn't asleep, but she was far more relaxed.

This human...was both fascinating and dangerous, all in one. And, as much as Alastor would have been so tempted to simply pull the plug on their little arrangement, and drag her down kicking and screaming...

No. After everything she'd done for him, loathe as he was to admit it, as many times in his life that he'd lied, in this case...Alastor could not go back on his word. He had his own standards and code, and had decided by them, to agree to her terms. To stick around for a free show, until either she won, and got him to...whatever it was she wanted him to do, possibly leave her alone – ha! - or failed, and subsequently lost her eternal soul.

Of course he'd win. There was no question of that. But, until that day arrived...what to do?

Obviously, he had to be on guard. He'd been away from this world for so long, and was now in the presence of someone who, in the grand scheme of things, really shouldn't have mattered. It was starting to get to him, all this unfamiliarity, but he'd be back to form in no time at all. Today was just a slip. A little slip. He was the one in charge here, holding all the cards. Nothing would be accomplished or achieved without his word or say-so.

With that, Alastor closed the door once more. Behind him, his shadow was rising up, mockingly blowing a kiss towards the figure upon the bed.

Rest well, dear Beth...things are just getting started. If she thought the worst of it was over after today...oh, well was she in for a shock! He'd let her think things had settled down, for now. And then, when she was least expecting it...

Boom. Surprise, surprise, surprise!

…...

The fires were burning. The wheel kept turning. Life, or the lack thereof, continued as per usual, far below the sky and Earth. Things were running as smoothly as they ever were. And yet...

Lucifer couldn't help feeling that sensation, of something being...off.

Sliever was as yet still hard at work on his last request. He had no idea how long it would take for him to finish the requirements that he'd laid out. It could span a few weeks, to a few months, to...well, even longer. If it was the latter, well...that might pose a problem.

The next Extermination was set to take place in eight months. From what he understood of the world above, the 'spring' months were halfway finished, and summer was on its way. The Hell-scape operated on a slightly different timeline, so it did help to keep these things in mind. Really though, the yearly culling was such a hassle. Not only did it rile up the population for a time, but certain...residents, would be more affected than others. And this had nothing to do with territorial disputes that would flare up between demons and their various factions, either. No, he had a specific face in mind for this particular headache.

Anyway. The point was, there was no news, for the time being, on the home front in regards to his current pressing matter. His pet project was still under construction. Which meant...the King was on his own, in dwelling upon just how satisfying it would be, once he could crush that insignificant red ant under his heel. Oh, well.

It wasn't as though that was the only thing to work on in regards to his plan for retrieval and revenge, though. Oh, no. There were certain beats that would have to be taken care of by he himself. Sliever was simply managing the heavy firepower, that would drag that traitor kicking and screaming back to his doorstep. But before that could even happen...Lucifer had to pinpoint his location. And fast. Time was on nobody's side, even in Purgatory. Those eight months could easily disappear before he knew it.

The planet of humans wasn't small. He knew this from witnessing the different souls that wound up in his domain; they came from all different locales and walks of life. The mix was truly amusing; variety was the spice of life, as they said. However, this would also make his current objectives far harder to accomplish.

Once those brutes were finished cooking in the labs below, he couldn't just send them out to run rampant in the world. Although he'd come up with ways to help them blend in better with the realm they'd be unleashed upon, it didn't mean they could simply roam about willy-nilly. Sooner or later, Heaven would figure it out – that there was something wrong. And eventually, it'd be traced back to him.

No, he had to be precise with his heat-seeking missile. The coordinates had to be exact. Not a symbol or number could be out of place.

This was where his abilities came into play.

Currently, Lucifer stood on the outskirts of Pentagram City – his main domain. Named specifically for the fact that it was the closest, directly under the light of said symbol. His shoes crunched against the red dirt and gravel, as he surveyed the eerie smoke trails and heated pits, scattering the surfaces of the cliffs. Many a soul had found themselves here, for various reasons – some, wishing for an escape from this realm. Others, hiding evidence of some nefarious deed or other...even if, for the most part, it didn't really matter.

The rest, simply enjoyed the view.

Then, there was him. He had a very personal reason for traversing this far out. Staring straight up at the hazy crimson skies, he reached towards his temple, letting out a sigh as he closed his eyes. Concentrating for a few moments, on the in and out of his breathing, an energy current began to slowly form at his fingertips, pressed against the skin. Pulling them away carefully, four little white orbs followed his gesture, hovering in the air.

Opening his eyes, Lucifer stared at the translucent conjurings for a few seconds, before carefully flipping his hand, palm up. Waving the other above it as he whispered a series of ancient verses, the four orbs began to swirl about, as if in the middle of a mini-tornado. With a series of five swift strokes and a circle, a smaller pentagram formed upon the ground beneath him.

Bringing his finger to his lips, Lucifer proceeded to bite down on the tip of the digit, causing the skin to break. As the drops of blood bubbled forth, he threw them upwards, to be absorbed by the spinning tunnel. He watched with slightly widened eyes, as the blood mixed and mingled. It wasn't often that he shed any, if at all. Nobody in this world could attest to having achieved such a feat, anyway.

Above, however...

With the addition of his lifeforce to the mix, those little pinpricks of light and essence were starting to grow. In a flash, they'd absorbed the substance, reforming into four writhing, glowing ethereal serpents. Now, the final touch.

He began to concentrate yet again, tracing intricate symbols throughout the air, whispering a new incantation furiously under his breath. Even just a single syllable misspoken, and the whole affair would be for naught.

Rip! As if torn by an unseen pair of scissors, the very air split open – a portal had formed, and on the other side of the shimmering gap...was the vaguest reflection of the mortal realm. It wasn't an easy feat, to be able to connect to the 'other side', as it were. Only the highest of the high had the means to do so, be it through spell-casting, or particular artifacts. How that bastard had managed to pull it off so smoothly, was a mystery for the ages.

The Infernal's eyes widened. For the most fleeting of seconds, Lucifer was almost tempted, to throw himself through the entryway, taking in everything for himself. The land of the humans stared straight back at him, unassuming and sublimely unaware of the danger that currently faced it.

Those insignificant creations that his Father had been so insistent on sowing the seeds of purity and hope within...and look how that had turned out, in the end. He'd been the one dissenter, and ultimately, more and more of them had wound up walking among his rows. As the days, weeks, months, years, centuries, even millennia had gone on, those numbers had only continued to rise, until Heaven had gone so far as to make their little declaration of a mini-war, with their yearly purges. But it still didn't change facts: humans were inherently born to sin.

Then, the moment passed. He was now focused on his iridescent creations, gesturing towards the opening. “Go, little messengers. Bring forth my will...and find that rotten traitor.” One by one, they slipped through. Soon enough, they were all gone, and with a pop, the entrance had resealed itself, betraying not a sign of its prior existence among the dusty landscape.

That was it. This was all he could do, to make things easier for his devoted degenerate, slaving away in those underground cells. To pinpoint the location of that miserable Radio Demon, on that godforsaken floating ball of dirt, before he could fully intertwine himself with what else was meant to be his domain. Either he would cause a good amount of chaos...or bring down the wrath of Heaven itself. Neither option was welcomed, in his book. But, that foolish whelp wouldn't be thinking anything about the potential consequences, now would he? No, he just wanted to get his rocks off.

Hell might have been made up of sh*t-kickers, but there was a code, a method to the madness. And this rebel was a threat to the very fabric of how his dimension had existed, ever since its formation upon being banished however long ago. When he'd first been forced to swallow his pride, pick up the pieces, and go home. His new home – one built by he himself, and those who'd decided to walk in step behind him.

Or, like the fair one, just as cursed as he, for refusing to kowtow to the heavenly agenda. One who'd chosen to think for herself. She who had taken his hand in hers, and strode beside him, tall and proud, bearing the eternal crown of dogma. Bringing forth their offspring, who in turn...in turn, had...

At this, Lucifer was forced to look away. The wound in his digit had disappeared, as if it had never existed at all. He could only hope that his 'trackers' would find their way to the target, and soon. He could do with some of that. Funny thing, in such a bleak and morbid place...

...even demons needed a shred of positivity.

…...

The rest of the day, into the evening, had been quiet and uneventful. No further obligations or requests; no games or lessons. Beth had been able to fall asleep, under the influence of her pills, no less, without much worry. Sure, there had been a slight hesitation upon holding them in her hand, but in the end, she'd decided to take them, and grant herself a full night of reprieve, after hours filled to the brim with new activities and experiences.

Sunday too, came and went, amazingly, without much fuss or hullabaloo. Beth had woken up closer to ten a.m, decently rested and not fettered by any further nightmares. Not that she wasn't expecting them to crop up again, at some point, considering what she'd been through, and what she was still healing from. She was simply willing to accept the momentary peace in stride.

When she'd stepped outside, she'd found Alastor in the parlor, seemingly staring out the window in silence. His shadow had greeted her, making a “shh” motion with its hand to mouth. She'd responded in kind, by quietly creeping to the kitchen, for a cup of coffee. The mechanism hadn't been turned on yet, thankfully. But, when she'd grabbed a cup from the dish rack, the bowl it had been settled in had shifted slightly. His ears had twitched, and his attention had then focused on her presence.

If he'd had anything to say to her though, he'd done quite a stellar job at holding it back – not a word passed his lips, as he'd smiled at her tiredly, almost as if bored, before looking back at the sun streaming in through the glass. The thought of him potentially being displeased did pass her thoughts briefly then, but seeing as he wasn't saying anything about her having to jump to accommodate his next command, Beth hadn't dwelled on it, simply brewing her caffeine and consuming it, as she prepared for the next following workday.

He'd popped in and out a few times, looking over her shoulder as she'd worked on her new outline to bring in on Monday, and implement for the rest of the week. While she'd been researching various topics, and specifically-centered holidays. Little news tidbits, both local and national, serious and entertainment-related. Or, had been stringing together one-liners to offer up a laugh. Then, she'd practically been able to feel him breathing down her neck. She could vividly envision his red gaze, scanning over her notes. It was practically reflected in the screen.

She didn't know it, but right after she'd shut her 'programs' down for the day, near to nine p.m, but hadn't yet closed the computer before her bathroom break to wash up for the night...he'd been looking over her laptop, now inactive, though still awake. In particular, the background image had caught his eye.

A young woman, in scanty dress, being pulled in two directions by red threads wrapped around her wrists. They blended into the scenery. Her left hand, just like Beth's, was adorned with a similar design. Behind her were eyes, red and pink, some with heart-shaped pupils, as well as sharp-toothed smiles. The female appeared weary and resigned, and yet...oddly content, to be among her surroundings, seemingly bound to these strange grinning specters.

He'd touched the 'mousepad' more than once, as he'd seen Beth do how many times before, just to keep it on the screen. The graphics had caused him to pause, which was how Beth found him when she'd come back to the bedroom.

“Eh? What are you looking at...?” Upon seeing his eyes zoomed in on her wallpaper, she'd flushed slightly, before rushing over to shut down the system entirely. “Ah...yeah. It's weird, I know. Sorry. I'm just...kinda a sucker for that sort of morbid, unhealthy relationship stuff.”

At this, Alastor's brow had raised. “Unhealthy relationship?”

Beth was rubbing the back of her neck. “Y-Yeah...y'know, the 'red thread of fate', that binds you to another? The piece is titled 'Trapped In Love With A Monster'. Somebody who knows that the one they love is toxic...but they can't break free. They're willing to be a slave to the desires and whims of another...all out of love. Or what they see as love, anyway.” There was a notable silence between them for a few seconds. Beth was simply tired, and wanted to go to bed, not even able to register what she'd just said.

Alastor, on the other hand...

He'd left shortly thereafter, as soon as Beth had started turning down the covers, and shutting out the lights. This time though, he'd kept her door open as he'd slipped out, to mull for a bit longer in the living room over what she'd told him.

Love...something so foreign and unwelcoming to him. In all his days, Alastor could safely say, he'd never seen a want or need for the emotion or its concept. It was too much trouble. It brought along far too many strings to get attached with – red threads, then? - and was just a general hassle. To admit the ownership of a figurative 'heart', and allow another being, or beings, to reside in it and your thoughts, free of charge? To ask of you whatever they so wished, whenever they felt it was necessary...was not something he cared to indulge in.

All of his connections, his contracts, were entirely for his benefit and gain alone. Sure, he'd offer his services to the unlucky saps who sought him out, but once their time had come...that was it. No more mister nice guy. Either they paid up their debts accrued, or...he'd make them pay. It was as simple as that.

On the other hand, Beth had mentioned...this particular piece had only been showcasing the weakness of one half; the unfortunate woman who had placed her trust and faith in the wrong keeper. Somebody who'd eaten her heart whole, and refused to give it back. Somebody who now had the ultimate willing living doll, to wind up and send out, as they so chose. They could get them to do anything, say anything, feel anything...all out of this supposed 'love'.

Was it a full lie though, on the side of the manipulator? There must have been some sort of reasoning, a method of entwinement, for them to pick the victim in question, and keep them on. Perhaps that toxic 'love' extended both ways, with the captor refusing to admit, that they were just as much a slave to the whims of their target as well, by virtue of seeking out that companionship to begin with...

These thoughts lingered in the demon's mind, long after midnight had come around.

Chapter 31: Where's Your Head At

Chapter Text

The next day arrived without much fuss, just a couple of tweaks. Monday started as usual, with Beth waking up to sunbeams streaming across her bed, cooking her in her little cocoon. After untangling and stretching, she'd taken care of her exercises – thankfully, away from prying eyes – and made her way to the living room, to begin things properly.

From here, she'd taken note of the fact, that after how many years in a set routine...her stomach was actually growling. So, as risky as it was, she'd decided to take a chance...and make another breakfast. It was only her second shot, and she'd most likely be doing things all alone too. Plus, she couldn't guarantee that, even with the hunger, she'd be able to finish everything in one go without getting sick. For personal reasons, she didn't usually eat in the mornings.

But, it was fine. If there were any leftovers, she'd save them. Also, she still had a good deal of eggs, and she wasn't looking to forget the skills and tips she'd learned, either. Practice made progress, right? She needed to keep on progressing.

This time, Beth did her best to watch her hands while slicing the ingredients, forgoing perfection in favor of safety. Technique could be saved for another day. Right now, she just wanted to be able to nom without wincing. The bandage around her finger was a painful lesson to remember.

The specific memories attached to it, however...

Eventually, the pieces were carved up, ready to be added to the pan, along with the eggs. She'd broken two of the three yolks before mixing, but at least no more eggshells had wound up in the bowl.

All the while, Alastor had been watching, though saying nothing in favor of simply observing her actions. As soon as she'd stepped out, and made that beeline for the kitchen, he'd been on alert. So, imagine his pleased surprise, when she'd started bringing out the various tools and ingredients herself, without any prompting! Looks like his teachings had left quite the impact on his student.

As he'd surveyed her in silence, the male could still recall, though...the taste of fresh blood upon his tongue, so perfectly balanced.

He'd had to look away, only to be assailed by yet another recollection: that flickering vision which had come to light, upon attempting to determine the root of the recipe. Turning fully then, he'd instead marveled at the view from the window as the people and cars came and went. Hmm...quite a few red ones. How nice.

Eventually, the moment had arrived, after enjoying her meal. Beth had been dressed up – or layered up – for her shift at the studio, and he'd been expected to change forms yet again. Shifting back before situating himself in the roller bag, they'd been on their way out soon enough.

Once they'd settled in at the booth, Alastor had transformed back. Beth had seemed a tad apprehensive, but again, hadn't told him off. She'd simply busied herself with setting up her notes and equipment for the show. He'd responded by settling in a corner, upon the lone extra chair, to survey the fair maiden in her routine for the day.

How utterly confusing. Beth could truly be capable, if she put her mind to it. It wasn't like just anybody could take up behind the mic, and expect to have that natural rapport with the audience. Heck, she'd even attracted a devoted fanatic to her front doorstep, due to the level of her skills! Unhinged though he was, that was still something to keep in mind. As loathe as Alastor might have been to admit it...there were others who enjoyed the performance that his meat puppet put on, for a near daily basis.

As the hours ticked by, he'd felt himself drifting into something of a lull; a relaxed state, as her soft but clear tones wafted in and out of his hearing. He was watching her, focusing on every single detail. Every gesture, every quip and comment. Every last announcement and notice. Every held back giggle with stifled smile.

Yet, at the same time...

Alastor had found himself staring straight into the past; a mixture of images and sounds, from two different periods entirely. His young adulthood, into regular standing and age, behind the table and microphone. He could recall, here and there...the laughter, the thrall, the words flowing from his mouth so effortlessly. No matter the subject, he'd brought it all to life every day, capturing the masses with his own golden pipes.

Then...the shift. A different stage and wavelength entirely. The way his voice had seemed to echo, as the streets of Hell ran red with cursed lifeforce. How he'd been able to hijack the frequencies, without any effort, bringing the denizens to their knees. Terror had run rampant, all by his casting. This time...there wasn't a second face to hide behind. The monster was unleashed, in full view of the masses, and oh...

...but did it feel good.

“Uhh...Alastor?” He'd come to with a jolt; it was as if he'd just been roused from a deep slumber. Quickly standing up from where he'd been reclining, his gaze locked below with that of a tepidly inquiring Beth, who'd just finished shutting down her equipment for the night. His shadow was snickering at him, and he'd had all the mind in the world, to tell it off in quite the rude manner indeed. But, he wasn't about to engage in such gestures before company of fairer means. He had standards, you know.

His smile was wide, easily brushing off his momentary lapse as he addressed the woman. Even as he'd already known what she was about to say. “Yes, my dear?”

She'd pointed at the bag, before slipping her phone back into her coat pocket. “I'm all done...we can leave now.” Another transformation plus zip, and they were on their way out the door. Night had settled upon the city, uneventful and still.

This...just wouldn't do. No, not at all.

As Beth had retired to bed after a long day of work, Alastor had decided, watching her breathing even out...that it was time to activate their 'agreement' once more. She'd been darn lucky to have gotten two days of respite, to simply do as she would when left to her own devices. No, no more of that. It was time to remind her of that little fact:

Her life as she knew it, was over. Now, he was in charge. And, boredom was both a dangerous foe, plus powerful motivator. Starting again tomorrow...the snap.

Which is exactly what happened, upon their arrival back at the studio on Tuesday.

First off, during her passing pleasantries with Joey. He'd had a bit of fun, letting loose some distant sounds, causing the man to look around in confusion. “What on Earth...?” He'd looked past Beth, raising an eyebrow upon not noting any sort of nearby source.

The female, however, had been all too aware of what those sounds represented: static-wrapped laughter, mocking and taunting. And she'd known exactly where it had come from, as well. After having reassured her coworker that all was okay, by brushing off his concerns, she'd proceeded inside...

...only to attempt to lay into her companion behind closed doors. 'Attempt' being the operative word here.

“What's your damage? Are you trying to drive people crazy?! Or are you gonna start making them think there's something wrong with me instead, if you keep acting up when we're together like this??” Oh, what a lovely idea! She'd given him something to think about! Yes, convince everyone into thinking that little miss Beth had picked up a rather persistent auditory poltergeist! That sounded like a perfect place to start!

The taller demon merely bent over her, until his nose was very nearly touching her own. Beth could practically feel the sweat dripping down her temples as he spoke. “I don't try anything. I simply do it. Would you like to try me, my dear?”

At this, she was forced to look away, instead busying herself with prepping her notes and the equipment for the shift. Her skin was a mix of flushed and clammy at his words, and it was such a treat for him to witness. This was his world she was treading in...but for the longest time, it hadn't been enough. So now, it was time for him to take hers apart. Beth had best buckle up – this was just the beginning.

He'd allowed an hour or so of her show to plod along, letting her settle into the usual routine security. Then, he'd pounced.

“Eh...?” Beth had been in the middle of a spoken break segment, when the light had flashed to the side of her main panel. The outside operator was checking in. Going to turn off the mic, she pressed the button to answer, hoping that the dead air didn't last too long. Usually, her assistant would wait until commercials to say anything. “What's up?”

His words were startling. “You're not coming through. You've been off for at least a minute or so.” Huh? But, she'd just had to shut off her device to answer...the switch was in the normal position. Turning it back on, she'd spoken a couple of lines, doing her best not to concern the audience. The monitor assured her that she was fine now, and they disconnected...only for him to come back shortly after she'd set the commercials to play, saying that this time, the ads weren't running. Even though she'd pushed the right buttons, and could hear them through her system. The time was being metered out right before her very eyes.

Beth was looking over the switchboard, taking note of all the various running pieces. “Great...don't tell me, we're having some sort of random technical difficulty?” As soon as she said this, the connection on the other line went silent...

...only to be replaced, with two songs playing over one another. And one was going backwards, on top of that!

Beth recognized the tunes instantly – the first was the Beatles 'Strawberry Fields Forever', while the other, running in reverse...seemed to be 'I Just Want To Celebrate', by Rare Earth. Why that pair, she had no idea. Struggling to shut them off, she realized in shock...that the commercials were still running, as well. But, they'd been completely silenced.

What...the duck is happening here?? Beth was absolutely baffled, as she fought to cut the tunes, and get the ads rolling properly again. The music faded, and the commercials came back. She was about to let out a sigh of relief...when suddenly, the ad started running in reverse, and sped up, on top of that! Beth thought her jaw was about to drop off its hinges.

She'd had glitches in her show before. But never this many all at once, or to this degree! Attempting to regain the connection to her assistant was a futile effort, as was shutting off the board entirely. Now, the voice of the traffic announcer was coming through. He sounded a bit hesitant, seeing as the last report had been recent – and apparently, the check in from Beth's side was unexpectedly sudden to his equipment, too.

Darn it - ! Apologizing profusely, after making sure her mic was still off, Beth disconnected the call – only to have her monitor come back, saying that the boards were lighting up, with listeners quite confused about the current situation, as well as the infrequent commentary of their hostess. Beth wanted to slap herself silly. They could still hear...?! No, of course they could still hear! That was just the way her luck had to work!

First things first: she had to get everything shut down! And then...apologize, before setting everything up to, hopefully, run smoothly this time . So, with a shaky inhale, Beth turned off both the music and ad sections, immediately greeted by a wave of absolutely relieving silence. Thank goodness everything had cooperated that time! Preparing herself to speak...

...she was instead interrupted, by the distorted tones of a familiar male voice: “Oh, my my my. Seems you're in quite the conundrum, my dear...perhaps I can help?”

Instantly, it all clicked. Beth was slamming on the brakes, as with a furious flick, her mic was - hopefully – muted once more. Whirling around in her seat, Beth found herself face-to-face with a smirking, gloating demon, and his shadow, laughing its head off in quiet revelry.

Her heart was racing. This...was not safe territory she was traversing here. This deadly wicked prankster had decided that now, of all times, was the perfect opportunity to mess with her once again, at potential cost of her livelihood. And, by telling him off, she was effectively risking her very life.

If they thought they could intimidate her this time around though, they were sorely mistaken. This was not how she was going to go out! He could make fun of her all he wanted at home, look down on her in the streets...but he would not get away with mocking her here. This was her domain, no matter if it had been his once upon a time, too. She hadn't gone through everything she had, just to lose it to a supernatural conman!

Ignoring the rapid flashing of her assistant's incoming call, and the prickle of tears in the corners of her eyes, she fixed them with what she hoped was her sternest glare. “This chaos...it's all because of you, isn't it?”

Oh, what a look! Yes...Alastor liked that. She was definitely riled up by his efforts, and he could only begin to imagine what would come next from here! Leaning forwards as closely as he could, without practically pressing his forehead into her own, his smile was wide, eyes alight with malicious joy. He spoke without hesitation.

“And what if it is? What can you possibly hope to do to fix it, hmm?”

Beth wanted to slug him, so badly. But, she knew it wouldn't help. It would only secure her end faster. She wouldn't even be able to touch him to begin with. Besides, physical violence had never been her strong suit. It didn't solve anything. It just made things worse. All she had to her name were words, the same words she uttered every time she checked in on the airwaves...

...so, fine then. She'd use them, and fight back with her heart.

“You...I don't care if you don't respect me.” Oh? “You can drag me through the dirt a-all you like.” Which is exactly what he was doing at this very moment, in front of an entire city's worth of audience members!

Her ocean eyes suddenly flashed, with an unexpected fire. What? He hadn't seen this look before...or, more accurately...not since she'd made that fateful request of him, and on the first day back at the station. When he'd asked her which she enjoyed more, the radio or television.

Beth could feel herself trembling, from head to toe. There was no script to follow. If this didn't work, then she had to accept: either she was gonna lose her job, or she was about to take her last few breaths. Or both. “But this...I will not stand for! I will not allow you to take away the one thing I love! I-If you're gonna...try, and bury me here...well, you'd better start doing it instead.”

A hard swallow. Her eyes were starting to hurt, from holding back the tears, and attempting to figuratively bore holes into his own. “D-Don't try me. Because you'll never make me run away. I-If you really worked in this business before...you'd understand.”

Slowly, at long last, Beth turned around in her seat. Her back was facing him now. She felt like she was going to be sick. There! She'd said it! It wasn't the most eloquent speech, but she'd meant every bit of it. If she had to...well, perish, all because she wouldn't concede defeat at the hands of a demon determined to drive her from her station, on top of everything else he'd already put her through...then, so be it. At least she'd finally taken a stand. And she'd done it all on her terms.

The silence was deafening.

Behind her however, unbeknownst to the female...was not the sight she'd have been expecting to see. There was no further malice to be found to Alastor's features. No rage, at her having told him off. No desire even, to pull the plug on the whole show, right here and now. Her words were ringing in his head like a fire alarm.

Such passion! Such grit and determination! She was the perfect definition of a shrinking violet, but when the right buttons were pushed...truly, Beth was a force to be reckoned with. Did his profession really mean so much to her that, just like her one wish in making a deal...she was willing to sacrifice her soul, her very life, in order to see it through? She had quite clearly stated, that he could kill her right here and now, if he so wished. She wouldn't stop him. Well, more accurately, she wouldn't be able to.

But...where was the fun in that?

There was still so much he didn't know about his little pet, and now, after this performance? He wasn't going to let her off the hook so easily. No, death without a proper reveal was simply...boring. It would be too easy to call it quits. He wasn't a quitter, and astonishingly enough, from the looks of it...neither was Beth.

Reality. This was her reality, chosen by a genuine adoration of the airwaves and melodies, brought to light every time she sat in that chair, broadcasting her special charm across the frequencies. Had Alastor been the one in the hot seat instead, with somebody breathing down his neck to just turn tail and give up...

...he'd have torn them apart.

“Yeek!” Beth almost jumped out of her skin; a pair of hands had pressed lightly atop her shoulders, before gently releasing, to instead spin her chair around. She could feel her heart bouncing painfully, ready to explode from the pressure of anticipation, as with trepidation, her gaze locked with that of her paranormal roommate.

Ehh...? What...does that look mean? Alastor was still smug, but at the same time...seemingly beaming down at her? What was this now? Extending a finger, he tilted her chin up, before reaching over, to brush away the faint trace of tears that had collected at the edges of her eyes. She flinched, cheeks heating up slightly, but didn't pull away.

Then, he drew back, bringing the dampened digit to his lips...and lapping away the water. Beth could practically feel her soul leaving her body – or was that just a rush of blood to her head?

“Mmm...your audience is waiting, darling.” His voice was a low rumble, almost a teasing purr, as he proceeded to motion towards the switchboard. Nodding jerkily, the woman carefully turned around, to answer her still furiously ringing assistant. Although still on edge, Beth had a feeling, that whatever test he'd just put her through here...

...she'd passed.

After a few words of reassurance to the other line, she reconnected with her listeners, offering up a couple of playful ribs at her situation to clear the air. From there, she was able to run the ads without issue, before returning to the tunes. No further glitches or hiccups would be plaguing her shift, she hoped.

No...there wouldn't be. Alastor would make sure of that. There was far too much promise to his new toy, to allow her talents and spark to be hampered by such things. He needed to see more, hear more, even taste more. Everything that this strange broken doll had to offer, he'd be taking his fill, and then some. Beth had effectively gotten herself out from this particular level of scrutiny, but she'd have best been prepared:

Perhaps, to curry favor, was worse than inciting wrath.

Chapter 32: Flagpole Sitta

Chapter Text

Following the radio showdown and its resolution on Tuesday, the energy in the studio, as well as between Beth and her abnormal airwave assistant, seemed to change. From morning until midnight, the rest of the week flew by without any incident. Whether this was for the better, was as yet to be seen. However, for the time being, there were no complaints on her end.

The first thing she noticed, was that the occasional technical glitches – like bad reception – seemed to go right out the window. All of her calls came through clearly, and the songs played as they were meant to. There was no static, and every time a skit or ad break had to run, everything went well. Her check-ins with the traffic announcer would also occur smoothly, like clockwork.

Secondly, the content. There were now a few extra points to share on the air – interestingly enough, Alastor apparently had taken a shine to her commentary and style. He'd add his own little quips to her notes as she'd been researching and typing, or whisper in her ear when she'd address the masses. It had been rather startling at first, but soon enough, Beth had gotten used to it. She couldn't predict when it would happen, but at least when it did, she was better prepared.

It was quite obvious – beyond the posturing, he had just as much skill as she herself in managing an audience, what with how many calls had come in either complimenting her on a random factoid from the past, or simply getting a chuckle from the extra dialogue. Plus, she was learning new things about the world and its history. There were a good few events he had been witness to, based off of the tidbits he was supplying. She could have easily given Dan a run for his money on the morning show, seeing as he had his own historical segment to share. Looks like gallows humor wasn't all the demon could contribute.

Beth had to admit, although things were definitely shaken up, it was far less scary than it had started off as. She was almost...growing used to having the secondary presence beside her, every time she ran a show. And this was only their first whole week together in the studio!

She knew it shouldn't have felt so familiar; this was a literal monster she'd allowed into her existence, that she was currently chatting up and interacting with as if it were the most normal thing in the world. This was all so very wrong!

At the same time...when had her life resembled anything even remotely close to normal? When had it ever gone right?

Even with the settling and adjusting, though...this didn't mean that everything was perfect. On occasion, a song would queue up, that wasn't actually next in line to play. Eventually, Beth had figured it out. Alastor was seemingly curious about certain titles, or simply fond of others, from when they'd been listening to her radio prior to her return. It was a bit disconcerting, since yet again, she never could expect when it would happen. But ultimately, she learned how to roll with the punches.

However, a couple instances had caught her more off-guard than others. For example, when she'd been humming Three Dog Night's 'An Old-Fashioned Love Song', only for it to immediately start playing. She assumed this one was merely a coincidence, seeing as Alastor had never heard it before. They'd allowed it to run through fully, but Beth could distinctly remember the flushed feeling to her cheeks the whole time. This just happened to be a favorite track of hers, and to have someone else selecting it while she was there...

...well, it almost felt like a personal dedication. Almost.

Eventually, her week had come to an end. Beth had to admit, it certainly felt like a whole lot had been crammed into just these five days. And, she was...a tad bit saddened, to have to take a break for the next two. But, she supposed it was for the best – although her physical wounds were mostly healed, she was still recovering from the attack, on a psychological level.

Yes...the nightmares were still present. And, it didn't look like they'd be letting up anytime soon, either.

She'd awoken on Saturday morning, in a frazzled tizzy after another series of vivid, violent visions, staggering out into the living room. Her phone had been clutched tightly in a trembling grip, as she'd prepared to make a fresh cup of coffee.

If Alastor noticed the strain to her features, he said not a word. Then again, why should she expect him to worry about such things as she having bad dreams? Most likely, he'd probably have gotten a chuckle out of them. In spite of the common ground they'd established in regards to their occupations, he was still, first and foremost, a cursed creature. The suffering of others was ultimately at the top of his preferences. She was no exception, no matter their arrangement.

In actuality...he was aware.

The demon had gradually settled into his own routine of resting, if only for a couple of hours, while Beth was figuratively dead to the world. But oh, how fascinating – it seemed as though, even while unconscious, the woman was able to provide entertainment! Upon slipping into her room a handful of times, debating on whether or not to simply pull the displeased spirit trick, and haul her from slumber a few hours early, he'd discovered...

...that miss Beth was quite the vocal sleeper.

Most of the time, the words were simple. Her brow would scrunch up in discomfort, and she'd utter out a “No...no...” or two. Perhaps remembering the traumas of the week prior? That's all he could assume, seeing as he hadn't noted any other incidents in his time together with the female. Really, humans were so fragile. She wasn't over it yet? That pest wasn't coming back. There was nothing to be afraid of any longer!

Once, she'd bitten at her lip quite sharply, before growling out a curse under her breath: “Motherf*cker.” Well then! Looks like that particular dream had triggered something quite strongly within his human pet, to rile her up so heatedly! He knew she made a point of not dropping such language during her waking hours, so he could only begin to imagine what was going on inside her head, to cause such an utterance.

Another time, she'd actually taken a swing outwards – he'd had to step back, lest he be clocked in the gut. It wouldn't have hurt, he just didn't want to deal with the sensation of contact. The word that had left her mouth? “Harmony...!” Who was she quarreling with now? What did peace have to do with punching?

On a good few times though, a single name would stand out, more than others, followed by a weak and pitiful “Stop...” Against this one, Alastor took note of the paler pallor to her skin, the racing heart, and how she would tremble so terribly, awkwardly pulling at the blankets, attempting to further cover her shivering form.

“Evan...”

Who was this character? It couldn't be the guy he'd sent packing – she hadn't known him, in any way, shape, fashion or form. Whoever this specter was, they had enough of a hold on the girl, to reduce her deeply slumbering form into a puddle of fearful, heavy breathing, rapid heartbeats, and whimpers. More so than any of the rest.

He'd honestly been tempted, to whip up a spell, and bring her dreams to the forefront. He couldn't read minds, but nightly visions existed on a completely different level. That much, he could influence. How amusing it would have been, to bare this maiden's deepest subconscious musings! And yet...

He wouldn't. It wasn't out of any sort of reservation, wanting to respect her privacy. To be quite honest...it didn't matter to him. Even with the agreement they had, and what he'd done for her in the past, it wasn't as though he were obligated to take care of every little issue that may have arisen for his human pet. And oh, but...he had to admit, to a degree, it was fascinating. Watching her fight against all those unseen faces, struggling in vain to make some sort of headway.

Besides, it would have been too easy to 'cheat', as it were, and manipulate her thoughts for his own personal gain. He'd rather have gotten her to trust in him of her own accord, and grant him the ammunition willingly. Then, she really couldn't cry when he'd delivered the final, crushing blow.

“Huh?” A soft buzz, as Beth had just finished adding the pod to her brewing machine. Looking down at the cell in her hand, her eyes sleepily scanned over the screen, before suddenly widening like dinner plates. In a mad scramble, she'd pushed a couple of buttons, reading over whatever was reflected before her in a panic. Alastor's interest was now piqued, as Beth completely turned away from prepping her coffee, to instead make a frenzied dash towards her room.

“DANG IT!” The yell was loud enough to cause the male to draw back, just slightly, as Beth came barreling past him with a bunch of clothes in her arms. Looks like whatever that little device had told her, was something of the utmost importance, seeing as she was now holed up in the bathroom, frantically changing out of her pajamas and hoodie.

Cracking his neck, Alastor figured, this was as good a time as any to get an answer as to what had set off this sudden rush of energy in his mortal charge. If she attempted to push him away...oh. That wouldn't bode well for her.

So, as soon as she had come out, clad in a dark pink oversized hoodie – really, so many! - and black skinny jeans, a clawed hand dropped immediately upon her shoulder, holding her in place. Beth jumped at the contact, attempting to squirm and break free. In response, its grip had only served to tighten.

“Beth. Dear.” Although he was applying the moniker with his usual smile, it was apparent that Alastor meant business. “Whatever is the matter?” The woman was staring up at him incredulously, as if she really couldn't believe he was asking her such a thing. Shaking her head rapidly, long brown locks swinging to and fro, she made another attempt at removing his touch from her person. Again, his grasp intensified. Looks like she wasn't getting out of this one without a suitable answer.

After a couple seconds of attempting to catch her breath, the female finally spoke. “M-My doctor!” Ah? “My therapist! I have an – an appointment today! And I forgot! I never checked! Now I have to see him, looking like this! I d-don't have enough time to put on makeup! He's liable to notice the bruises, and he's gonna think – AUGH! I have to go!”

With that, she was finally able to break free, stumbling back into her bedroom. With a flick of the wrist, she'd already snatched up and pulled on her face mask. Flipping open her laptop in a frenzy, Beth was planting herself in front of the screen, clicking on this, that, and the other thing, all while popping the small black buds into her ears. Glancing over at her companion, she started waving a hand.

“And you! Y-You need to – to go somewhere! Go outside! I c-can't have you here, while I'm doing this! I'm sorry!” Based off the expression to her features, and everything that she'd just told him, it was all too apparent:

However this was going down – oh, the wonders of modern technology! - it wasn't a regular doctor's visit. She'd said 'therapist'; that alone conjured up quite the myriad of images. Beth had something going on, beneath the surface, that she was desperate to hide from him. And hm-hm-hmm, but...

...that just wouldn't do.

So, with a smug smirk, he leaned forwards, arms folded behind his back. His shadow proceeded to slip around his figure, to wind about Beth's ankles before settling itself in the shade beneath her desk with a pleased purr. She could already tell – this wasn't a good response.

“Oh, really? And what, exactly, are you hoping to achieve here? Do you actually think you can dispatch me with just a few heated words?” Worst fears confirmed: he wasn't going to budge. Beth was starting to freak out – she had only five minutes until her online session! And like heck she was going to let her psychiatrist, of all people, in on the fact that demons actually existed!

Letting out a pained growl, Beth finally turned away, to finish checking in at the waiting room. “Fine! You can stay here! Just change forms! And stay quiet! You cannot let him catch you!” Well. Although she was still attempting to hide him, at least she wasn't shutting him out entirely. Alastor could live with this arrangement...for now. It was just a matter of whether or not the content provided would be amusing enough for him to keep up the ruse.

Beth, meanwhile, was already mentally doing damage control. She had three things she had to focus on here: keeping her shrink from noticing the remainder of the marks on her face, hiding Alastor, and keeping any sort of personal information from slipping to the forefront. The last thing she needed, was that nosey yokai attempting to analyze her any further! Her sessions usually lasted anywhere from thirty to forty-five minutes! Anything could happen, depending on which way the discussion veered!

Behind her, she heard the familiar pop, of the male transforming. Letting out a soft sigh of relief for at least that small favor being accomplished, she returned her attention to the screen before her. The online waiting room had just come up, and with a flourish of picking and pecking at the keys, Beth had reported in. Now...she just had to wait.

Alastor was currently curled up, on the makeshift bed of cushions and towels that he hadn't sat among for...the last week or so? How degrading. Now that he was restored to his former glory, scar notwithstanding, it was a tad demeaning. To be relegated back to such a position, even temporarily, as a pet. But, he could ultimately, begrudgingly, understand Beth's logic, in wanting to keep his existence hidden. It wouldn't benefit him either, if anybody else were to get wise to their situation.

She was just absolutely barking mad, if she really thought he'd slink away quietly with his tail between his legs. Really, attempting to shut him down entirely. This time around, no secrets. He was about to find out, if only a little, about just what, exactly, made miss Beth tick.

Perhaps oh, even...why she needed something like a therapist to begin with.

Smirking to himself, he caught the gaze of his shadow, who was snickering. With a flash of his eyes, a tendril extended from his doppelganger, to stretch upwards towards the laptop. In an instant, it had effortlessly assimilated with the device. A twitch of fluffy red ears, as he lowered his head. Mmm...much better.

It was officially the top of the hour. A familiar 'ding' rang out through Beth's earbuds, as the screen changed, from the waiting room, to a closeup of an older man, against the backdrop of a plain off-white wall. He was balding, clad in a pale blue dress shirt, that matched with the triangular silver pendant around his neck, bearing a matching-hued center. His grey eyes weren't warm, but they weren't entirely cold either, as he surveyed the woman with a slight smile.

“Good afternoon, Beth. Glad to see you on time.” In response, the female let out a nervous chuckle, straight mouth hidden behind the fabric of her mask. He was a stickler for punctuality, and had nearly made her cry in the past, from being a few minutes late. Hence, her panic upon receiving the text notification. Of course, nobody here knew that but her...

Clearing her throat from the sudden tension and lump that had formed, she offered what she hoped was a convincing response. “Y-Yep, here I am! Nice to see you too, Dr. Weiland!”

Suddenly, his brow started to furrow. Uh-oh. Not a good sign. His gaze had gone from calm, to slightly darkened, and scrutinizing. “Beth...may I ask, why you're wearing that mask?” Oh, okay. He'd just noticed that addition to her appearance, and was simply being a bit severe in his reaction. Well, this wasn't something she couldn't handle. After all, she'd expected him to comment on this much.

With a nervous, but still hopefully disarming giggle, the woman waved a hand. “Th-This? Uhh, I picked up a bit of a bug recently! I'm almost healed up, but I keep it on, j-just in case! Force of habit, even if I'm a-alone at home! Best to be prepared, ahah!” Although she'd stumbled a couple times, at least she'd gotten the words out well enough.

Dr. Weiland's stern gaze did not lessen. If anything, it had grown more disapproving. “I see. And, those bruises around your eyes? They look particularly painful, too. Worse than your usual, I'd say.” Shoot!

Beth was scrambling to throw out something, anything, to diffuse the current tense situation! Like she was really going to let him know about the stalker, either! “Uhh, wh-what bruises? I haven't been sleeping very well, b-because of the cold – they're just dark circles!”

Now, her shrink was shaking his head. Oh, that wasn't good. “Beth. Did you have another incident?” Great. As expected – he didn't believe her. Not only that, but he was about to reveal something that she did not need coming up, in her current company...!

Speaking of...

Alastor was eagerly listening, torn between a mix of contempt towards the tone of this new face, and building anticipation, over what sort of info could be gleaned from this particular appointment. 'Incident'? 'Your usual'? What, did miss Beth actually have a penchant for brawling? He wouldn't have guessed it, but if this official figure were alluding to such a thing – and he'd known the female for far longer than he himself...

Oh, yes. This was shaping up to be quite the informative session.

“No! No, I didn't! I promise! I've just been dealing with insomnia! I swear!” She was so desperate, to keep the truth from being revealed. If anything came out...that's it, her life as she knew it, would be over! Forget just the fact of that assailant having shown up to begin with! She wouldn't be able to lie any further, and hide the demon who was very nearly breathing down her neck. And then...the fabric of the entire world would fall apart. She'd be taken into custody, and then...everyone else would suffer, because as if Alastor would allow anyone to capture him! The universe would go down in flames, and it'd be all her fault...!

“Really, Beth.” Dr. Weiland was now shaking his head, tsk'ing as he waved a finger. “I thought you were better than that. We'd been making such good progress. But now, you're lying to me? I don't buy for a moment that you're actually sick. You slipped up, rather noticeably this time, and can't even begin to tell me the truth. I thought we were past this.”

Oh, crud. Beth could feel herself sinking in her seat, as the psychiatrist went on in his admonishments. Then again...perhaps the rest of the world would keep on turning, but her own would end, if only temporarily, as her doctor would go back to square one, in labelling her a bonafide psycho. Weiland was on a full-blown rant, and all she could do...was sit there and take it.

Or...was that really all she could do?

Now, Alastor was starting to get annoyed. This official figure wasn't serving to offer up any further new info, in regards to his human charge – if anything, his current attitude left much to be desired. He'd started as tolerable, but had quite clearly worn out his welcome. It was apparent – the girl was almost physically shrinking in her seat, boring holes into her lap with her stare. She looked as if she were torn between crying and being sick, and oh, but that...was not beneficial to his cause, not one bit.

He needed Beth to stay open and willing to his influence and coaxing. With someone like this pompous windbag cutting her down, syllable by syllable, she was liable to backtrack and resort to locking him out yet again! She wouldn't be able to, but it'd ultimately be a pain to undo the chains for a second time.

And besides...she'd never smile for him at this rate, either.

His eyes narrowed, as his gaze darted below, between his shadow, and upwards, towards the source of his current irritation. It was time to turn the tables. His eyes began to glow that same vivid shade of neon crimson.

“...and if you really wish to progress, you need to let go of these toxic habits, and stop trying to hide from the – huh?” Suddenly, a thump behind her. Immediately, Beth's head shot up. Glancing towards the man on the screen, she could see that his expression was one of startled puzzlement. “Did...what was that?”

Beth knew the answer to his inquiry immediately: that crafty demon had just done something. And it had been caught on camera. Yikes! Immediately, she was backpedaling.

“U-Uhh, what do you mean?” Looking over her shoulder, Beth felt her heart sink. A book was lying on the floor, in front of the accursed deer. He was staring back at her, as if he were completely innocent. Like it had just shot halfway across the room, of its own accord. And, of course, it just had to be her 'Stupid World' title, too! What, was he attempting to comment on the current situation?

Weiland's eyes were narrowing, as he leaned in closer to the screen. “I know I saw something just now...you can't seriously tell me you didn't hear that. Beth, stop lying to me. Is somebody else there? You know these sessions need to stay one-on-one.”

Her heart was starting to race, as she now lifted her hands frantically, hoping the pose would convey the proper image of kowtowing. “I-I don't know what you mean! I swear, there's no one else here with me! I t-take our time together very seriously, a-and I - ”

Suddenly, this time a crash. Beth nearly jumped a foot in her seat – she recognized that sound quite clearly. One of her heavy bins had fallen from atop the other. If she had looked behind at that very moment, she'd have seen Alastor's glowing vermillion gaze, yet again, golden fangs bared in a wide, smug grin. Yes...now they were both shaken up. Perfect.

Weiland was just about ready to end the session entirely. “Beth. I want to help. But if you won't be open with me, then how, even if I'd like to, can I believe you - ”

Instantly, the male froze. His eyes had gone wide, jaw hanging slightly slack. Beth was now regarding him with slight worry. The male was a bit on the older side, so was it possible...the stress had caused an unfortunate physical reaction? “D-Dr. Weiland? Are you okay...?”

Again, she really should have looked behind her. With a low click of his tongue, Alastor had sent out another vine from his shadow. In an instant, a connection had been formed. Though this time, it was stronger. The deer's eyes were still illuminated, as slowly, his lips began to mouth a series of words, which were soon smoothly parroted by his target.

“Beth...I believe you.” Huh?? She nearly jolted, at the sudden acknowledgement. Blinking rapidly, she watched, as the doctor leaned back in his seat, eyes wide. His breathing was slightly labored, as his head tilted to the left. “Don't worry...it will be alright.”

Now, he was looking away. “I think...I shall retire for the day.” Yeah, it had only been about fifteen minutes! What the heck? “So, I'll see you again. I will contact you later. Right now...I must lie down. Perhaps there is, as you mentioned...an illness going around.” What was this? Was he seriously...getting sick on her?

“Uhh...okay. Well, I – I hope you feel better soon, Dr. Weiland. Just m-message me, when you're ready to schedule a new visit. Umm, th-thank you, for seeing me today.” Well. This was weird. He'd gone from being overbearing and disappointed, to suddenly...so reserved and stilted. Was he actually feeling unwell?

A brief wave from the man on the other side of the screen, before it went back to the waiting area, shutting off the camera. Beth didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. After a few seconds of silent disbelief, she let out a deep sigh. Had she been holding her breath this whole time? She didn't know. Nothing made sense here! At least...not to her.

Another few moments of quiet. Then...laughter.

Chapter 33: I'm With Stupid

Chapter Text

Instantly, Beth whirled around in her seat. Her eyes were bulging, as she regarded the small deer, walking forwards. In a flash, he'd transformed yet again; back into the familiar towering figure, bathed in red. His chortling was tapering off into a chuckle. However, it hadn't taken long for the woman to figure it out: her therapist's strange behavior, and her companion's sudden amusem*nt.

Immediately, she stood up, to march over in front of him. The toppled heavy bin to her left, confirming her prior suspicions, did not register – her attention was entirely focused on her supernatural roommate.

“You...you did that, didn't you?” Jabbing a finger upwards, towards his pointed face, the female refused to back down. This was more than just a few tricks of a haunted house. He'd effectively strong-armed another human being to do his bidding! “What, d-did you, you – possess him, or something?! Don't lie to me, Alastor!”

Oh, throwing out those familiar words. Scarlet eyes were heavily shaded, as his arms tucked behind him once more. “Hmm...you do catch on rather quickly when you want to. Though, once again, you are just a tad misguided, miss Beth. I did not 'possess him', as you say. Nay, I merely...influenced him, as it were. Because he gave me the opportunity to do so.”

Now, he was turning around on his heel, headed for the door. This time, she could not see the momentary disgust that colored his features. “I have no patience for those on undeserved pedestals. You should be grateful – had I not stepped in, you probably wouldn't have anything left of your spine.” At this, Beth felt her heart skip.

Wait a minute. Was he seriously saying...that he'd pulled this little stunt, all on her behalf?

Beth didn't get a chance to comment. By now, Alastor had already left the room, making a swift beeline for the parlor. Whether or not she agreed with his methods, the female was forced to acknowledge one thing:

She appreciated having had the situation resolved, even if the means were unconventional.

Most likely, now that Weiland was apart from her, the spell, or whatever it was that the male had invoked, was effectively severed. He'd only put it into action while the session had been underway. Since they were no longer in contact, it was reasonable to assume that her therapist was coming to, a bit dazed and confused, but ultimately unharmed, after whatever sort of magick had been cast upon his person. Hopefully that was as far as it extended.

With a slight shake to her motions, Beth was already jogging after the taller figure. She could feel the knots, yet again, working their way up into her throat. But, she forced them back down, instead focusing entirely on the words that ultimately needed to come out here.

“Alastor.” He was standing in front of her windows, staring out at...well, she didn't know. But, that wasn't important. His ears twitched, as if taking note of her voice, though he didn't turn around to regard her presence. Coming to a stop a few feet behind him, Beth did her best not to fidget, hands clasped in front of her, as the rest of her sentiments came forth in a tumble.

“Th-Thank you.” Oh...? She was no longer interested in being combative? “I know...Weiland came off like a bit of a blowhard.” That was an understatement. “He means well, just...he's a bit set in his ways.” Which was no good for anyone involved. Even he, as much as he preferred things to go his way, allowed at least a bit of room for flexibility, before pulling the noose nice and tight. Stuffy old codgers had no place in his blueprints, both for controlling this world...

...and Beth.

She let out a soft exhale. “However. I appreciate...you cutting things, before they went any further. I'm not gonna lie...it's not fun, getting reamed like that.” Of course it wasn't. Were it him in that position, said dissenter would have been watching him eat their intestines for breakfast. “So...yeah.”

She was heading for the kitchen, to finish preparing her coffee. “Just, next time...try not to go so hard on the spooky antics? Last thing I need is for anyone suggesting I should get this place blessed.” A soft giggle then, though again, he could imagine it came without a smile. But, at least...she was letting the matter drop?

“I don't need your gratitude.” Oh, great. Here came the co*cky brush off. She figured he'd respond as much. Shaking her head, Beth returned her attention to the coffee maker, watching as the warm liquid began to pour. “But, it is...appreciated.” Well. Throwing her words back at her. At least it was positively-themed? That was...good, in regards to him?

Alastor wouldn't deny that. Had she chewed him out for his efforts in keeping her head above water, she probably wouldn't be standing right now. Still, though...why did it matter so much, if she were grateful? Had he simply gotten used to the praise?

Or perhaps, did he...actually like it?

Whirling around, his smile was as bright as ever. He could not – would not allow anything akin to those sorts of thoughts to cross his mind. He had done this entirely for the benefit of his future plans! Not for Beth's sake, and certainly not for any sort of sappy enjoyment at being anyone's 'hero', let alone towards as weak a character as said female before him! “Well then! I trust you have some other activities on the agenda for today?”

Thus, another event – and subsequent crisis – had come and gone.

…...

As it turned out, there hadn't been any further events to pad out the rest of Saturday.

After a phone call from Weiland's office, to set up the next month's appointment, Beth had simply settled in, getting started on her notes for Monday. Although Alastor would have preferred something a bit more substantial in excitement levels, ultimately he was willing to let the matter slide. Even by this point, it was still good to see that she took her job seriously. If she hadn't, he would have had more than just a few heated words to offer in exchange for her lackadaisical attitude. In a sense, it was his name on the line as well, considering he'd been tied to the profession for almost a century.

She'd gone to bed around midnight, after washing up a couple hours earlier, and spending a bit of down time scrolling through some posts online. Alastor hadn't paid much attention, since most of the content in passing hadn't caught his eye. Pictures of animals, or long-winded screeds that stretched across half the screen, about an array of subjects he didn't understand. He had no interest in changing that fact, either. He merely allowed her the break, to presumably rot her brain, so long as she left enough intact for the next day.

Unfortunately, sleep hadn't come easy. It had taken at least an hour of tossing and turning before she'd finally knocked out. However, it had been free of any uncomfortable visions, and she'd slept straight through until morning, when her first alarm had started blaring at six a.m. So, there was that. It wasn't until eight a.m though, that she'd actually bothered tumbling out of bed, shutting off the buzzer and brushing her long hair from groggy eyes. With a slow stretch of arms above her head, she'd inhaled deeply.

One more day, until it was back to the broadcasted grind. What to do?

As her eyes had taken in the familiar sight of her cluttered bedroom – her companion must have been somewhere outside, as expected – she'd felt her brow furrow. Her dresser...had gotten so disorganized again. The bottles were out of order, and there were even a few empty ones, that should have been thrown out a while ago. Beyond that, the bin still hadn't been fully replaced from where it had toppled over, only pushed to the side. And her empty boxes needed rearranging, too. Ultimately, it had probably needed to be tidied ever since she'd gone searching for that jacket during the rainstorm, the first week she'd had her new 'guest' on-board.

Her thoughts had begun to wander, to the rest of her house. When was the last time she'd actually cleaned anything, in actuality? She couldn't count when Alastor had gotten rid of the body – that was necessary, but it didn't involve her whole abode. It had to have been about a month or two since she'd last gone over the floor with the sweeper, or just wiped down the bathroom. The dust had probably built up a good few layers, by this point.

It had been a couple of weeks since the last time she'd thrown out the trash, too. She didn't accumulate a lot very quickly, but it was probably a good idea to change out the bag. Thinking about the effort required to combat these issues was already making her want to crawl back under the covers again. At the same time though, now that the thought had been triggered...it wouldn't leave her alone. She'd just have to swap cleaning for her morning workout – there was no way she had enough strength to tackle both tasks. So, with a heavy sigh, Beth had climbed out of bed, heading for the kitchen.

Alastor had watched in silence, smile wide like always as she'd appeared, skulking to the coffee maker. He'd been glad to see her up, though not out of any sort of relief or attachment. It was only for the fact that it meant he no longer had to sit around twiddling his thumbs. Time had a tendency to pass rather slowly when you were expectant for something, didn't it? He'd spent who knew how long imagining all the different ways he could have dragged her out from the bedroom, forcing her up and about. To do what, who could really say. As long as he wasn't alone, that's all that mattered.

Because it was on her to keep him entertained, that's why. Nothing more, nothing less.

She'd offered him a brief greeting, which he'd returned, if slightly reserved. From there, her focus had been spent split between changing clothes, checking her phone, and staring out the window, while waiting for her coffee to cool. After about thirty minutes, she'd chugged it quickly, before washing the mug out.

This was where they found themselves now. There still hadn't been any acknowledgment of potential plans for the day, as she returned to her bedroom. He was about ready to follow her, when she immediately returned, this time with her long locks pulled back. Letting out a sigh, she headed for the parlor, crouching down in front of the couch.

He watched, in muted curiosity, as from underneath, she pulled out something akin to a broom, or mop. It had a long handle, once she'd pressed a seemingly hidden button. The end against the floor though, was a wide, thin, flat rectangle, that somewhat flipped about. Well. Looks like he'd missed that one in his exploration. She went back to the kitchen, this time squatting in front of the cabinets below the sink. Another area he hadn't bothered messing around with, seeing as he'd assumed it to bear only piping from above. Here, she pulled out what was revealed to be a large black bag from a box, along with a pair of rubber gloves, a stack of thick cloths in plastic wrapping, and a small sealed tub. What it contained was as yet unknown.

By this point, he'd gotten tired of simply being a bystander. So, as she proceeded to empty the garbage can of its contents, sealing the bag with a double-tied bow, he made his way across, arms behind his back as he cleared his throat. She glanced over, taking note of his presence, but said nothing more as she headed for the front door, lugging the sack while trying to avoid having it whack against her legs.

Now, his shadow had decided to pop out, shaking its head at her dismissal. Tsking quietly, Alastor watched as she slipped on a pair of sandals loosely, before reaching for the lock. Just as she'd been about to flip the bolt and pull out the chain, however -

A black tendril had shot forth, instantly wrapping around the pair, and driving her hand back with a slap. “Ah!” Letting out a groan, Beth turned to face the demon, a hint of annoyance apparent in her features. He simply continued to beam, as she finally regarded him with words. “What is it? What do you want?”

Shaking his head, he pointed between the trash in her hands, and the hauled out supplies. “I'm assuming that cleaning is in the cards for today, then?”

She nodded, and returned her attention to the locks. “Yeah, it is. So, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get rid of this. The sooner, the better.” Again though, she was blocked off. Holding back a growl, she proceeded to look at him once more. What now??

“And, I suppose, you were planning to simply...forget our agreement, during this whole time?” Oh, for – that's what he was hung up on? He really expected her to dance for him twenty-four seven? She had grown-up responsibilities she had to take care of! She couldn't drop everything to constantly make sure he was satisfied! Sometimes, you couldn't always get what you wanted!

Biting back a curse, Beth closed her eyes for a second, before replying. “Look. I haven't forgotten our arrangement. But right now, I have chores. I can't just let things pile up around here!” A hard swallow then, at what she was about to suggest. “If you really want your – your entertainment, you could always...lend a hand. I'm sure you could get through this without breaking a sweat.”

In response, Alastor's gaze widened slightly. He obviously hadn't been prepared to hear that, seeing as the vine was now merely hovering in front of the locks. Seizing the opportunity, Beth proceeded to undo both of them, before yanking the door open swiftly, and shimmying out into the hallway. The barrier closed behind her softly, as she made her way down the hall.

Back in the apartment, Alastor stood in place, his shadow investigating the empty trash can. Beth's last words were echoing through his head, and he tilted it in quiet contemplation. Help her clean? Well...it wasn't like he couldn't. Heck, the first time they'd properly interacted, that's exactly what he'd wound up doing!

However...as much as he appreciated her diligence to her tasks and duties, he wouldn't deny...it just wasn't that exciting, to engage in manual labor, much less watch someone else take it on themselves. He had no problems with making the messes, certainly – but dealing with the aftermath was another story altogether. This was why he'd never complain about Hell's operating system, if only for the fact that he could perpetuate full-on bloodbaths in the streets, without having to worry about the small details. I.e, it was a system that he was able to utterly warp and flounce, to his rotten heart's content.

On the other side of things, though...should he leave this task in Beth's hands exclusively, it would probably take forever and a day. So, if he wanted to speed things up, the least he could do, was keep an eye on her progress. If she began lagging, for whatever reason...then, he could step in as he saw fit.

Or, perhaps...at this, a flash in his crimson gaze. It might be enjoyable, to see the female struggle a little? He also had the means at his disposal, if he so chose, to make things just a tad harder for his human pet. If she were really going to undertake this, now of all times, and leave him on his own in terms of finding amusem*nt...well, who could blame him if he chose to watch her squirm?

Yes...that actually sounded like a good plan. Something akin to when he'd heckled her at the radio station. Except this time, he wasn't testing her, no – he was just straight-up causing problems for the fun of it. He didn't have to spend the whole time doing so, just long enough to get her to react memorably. She might even actually slip up, and blow their whole situation sky-high! Then, he could get her soul sooner! A touch annoying, seeing as he'd have to deal with whatever form the insubordination took, but oh well...a small price to pay.

At least...if he was ready to end things?

The sound of footsteps, approaching the door. Beth had returned, and was now making her way back inside. Kicking off the sandals as she locked up once more, she turned her focus to the fresh bag, lying atop the counter in the kitchen. As she shook it out, to line the empty can, Alastor exchanged a knowing glance with his inky doppelganger. After a second or two, it picked up on his intentions. Snickering quietly, it proceeded to slip around, to nestle itself behind the open lid. As she stretched the bag across the rim, and went to push the top down...

...it sprang back up with a snap. Huffing, she stepped on the switch at the base, making sure it wasn't stuck, before letting go, and pressing down on the lid once more. It closed, and she was about to turn away, satisfied.

Pop! And there it went again! The garbage can refused to stay shut! Gritting her teeth, she shoved the top down one more time, holding it in place for a few seconds, before releasing her grip. Leaning in a little nearer, to make sure it remained closed -

“Yeek!” This time, the lid sprang open so quickly, it nearly cracked her in the face before she could jump back. Gaping in shock, she watched, stupefied, as slowly, it finally dropped into place properly. A sudden emotion crossed her features, and she immediately whirled around...only to find that Alastor was by the couch, observing the not-a-broom she'd dragged out with mild interest. The perfect exterior of indifference. His shadow, by this point, had relinquished its hiding place, easily sliding around into another corner of the kitchen, meeting his gaze as Beth slowly turned around once more.

Whatever...darn thing is kind of old. It could have gotten stuck in a loop, or something. The mechanism might be getting faulty. Here's just hoping I don't have to replace it anytime soon... Sighing, Beth now turned her attention to the floors, heading for the parlor.

Ignoring the taller demon, she proceeded to snatch up the new tool, reaching into the clear plastic wrap to pull out one of the folded dry cloths inside. After a bit of rigging, she'd gotten it to attach to the top corners of the rectangular bottom head. From there, she made her way back to the bedroom. He said nothing, but followed her in silence, eager and waiting to see just what else could be tampered with next.

Placing the cloth covered side of the device against the floor, she began to drag it across in long sweeps. Thankfully, her room wasn't too big, nor was there much open floor to begin with. All she had to cover was what she could reach. She'd be done soon enough, and from there could backtrack to the bathroom, parlor, and kitchen. That was where the issues would arise. But, she just had to suck it up and deal. If she could get through the rest of it without any other delays, she could be done in a little over an hour, perhaps? Her apartment wasn't massive, it merely felt like it took forever, because of the energy involved, as well as the strain on her back.

Alastor was watching in muted concentration, taking in every last detail as she curved around corners and the various articles of furniture. It appeared this was an alternative to using a brush and pan? His shadow was following the sweeper with wide eyes, so tempted to pounce every time it shot forth.

Beth knew she had an audience, but seeing as she wanted to get through this task as quickly as possible, she wasn't about to strike up a conversation. Neither of them were lashing out over her indifference towards their presence, which could be taken either positively or negatively. Seeing as she was so desperate to finish, she'd take her chances on the former.

“Whew...there we go. Round one done...” Removing the cloth from the bottom of the tool and chucking it out, she headed for the small tub, opening it up. It contained more clothes, though these ones were damp. Shaking her head, Beth got to work rigging it up the same as before, though she was decidedly more intense about it, muttering to herself as she did so. “It better stick this time...”

This did not go unnoticed by the male. Clearing his throat to catch her attention, he proceeded to point towards the device. “Is there a particular challenge to cleaning this way?” After debating over whether or not to answer, Beth offered him a short nod. She wasn't looking to be rude here, and it wasn't a pointless question, by any means. They probably didn't have these sorts of things, back in his day...whenever that was. Did they in Hell? Whatever, she could humor him here.

“Ehh, kinda? I don't know why, but sometimes, the dang cloth won't stay hooked. So, I have to take my time when I wipe up, otherwise it'll come off. It's a pain.” Ah...now, wasn't that an interesting little tidbit of info she'd chosen to share? As she turned away to begin her task, another exchanged pair of smirks between Master and underling. They knew what to do here.

Once more, Beth started from the bedroom. Carefully, leaning lower and more forward, she began the sweeping process yet again, also being wary not to potentially slip on the wet floors. As she angled the device around her dresser, Beth did not notice that, while Alastor was observing her work with arms tucked behind his back, his shadow had yet again vanished, instead lurking along the nearby edges. Unseen, it slipped a tendril into the tool.

Mouthing a word, the right upper corner of the wet cloth suddenly fell forth, catching under the sweeper head and bunching. Doing a double-take, Beth halted her actions, lifting it up to readjust its position. She'd been so careful, but still, the whole thing decided to screw up anyway. Placing it back down, she resumed her work...

...only to have to stop again as she passed the closet and bins. This time, it was the left side. Growling softly, Beth again paused to fix the issue. It managed to hold up for the rest of the room, but as soon as she made her way down the short hall to the parlor, the whole top half was wedged under the device head.

It took less than a minute to put everything back in place, but just as she was about to resume her task, the lower half flew out instead. Now, she was ready to bite through the back of her stud. Why was it acting up so badly today? She was monitoring her force, but it was almost as if the darn thing had a will of its own! This was never more evident, than as she headed around the couch, the top and bottom on the left fluttering out of the holder, like a white flag in the breeze.

Flipping the device upwards for examination, she practically drove the corners into the flexible notches. This time upon returning it to its prior position, she was markedly upset, sweeping a bit harder, though she knew it wouldn't help matters. And it didn't – in an instant, another corner had somehow come undone. She was ready to rip out her hair, when from across the room, by the window...

...a cool chuckle. Instantly, she froze, before steadily, lifting her gaze to lock with Alastor's own smugly appraising stare. It was obvious, he was getting a kick out of her distress. Well, what else was new? It was as she was about to begin her work once more, however, that the thought crossed her mind:

Could he have been making things harder for her, somehow?

By the time she'd finished the other three areas, Beth was fighting the urge to curse up a blue streak. Her eyes were prickling, either from lurking stress tears, or sweat dripping into her vision. She didn't know which, and didn't care. All that mattered, was that this leg of the cleaning was complete! She could move on! From here, it was just a matter of spraying and wiping down the bathroom, then the kitchen, and any surfaces she handled regularly. Then, she'd be finished.

“Mmm...you certainly are determined to get this done.” That voice, filtering into her hearing like a teasing serpent. Mocking her efforts at keeping a tidy house. Or perhaps, not even that...just wanting to get under her skin, in general. Whatever the case, it was clear that Alastor found her struggle amusing.

Well, she didn't. Beth was still peeved about the earlier trouble, and still wasn't entirely sure he hadn't had anything to do with it. Tossing the used cloth in the trash, she spun around, turning a frustrated glare on her supernatural roommate. He simply responded with a low chuckle. Oh...that did not help matters, at all.

The switch was flipped, and she was marching over. In the heat of the moment, she was willing to allow herself a mild leeway, if only to get him off her case! “Listen, you - !”

Suddenly, a swift shift underfoot. Instantly, Beth's world was spinning.

Chapter 34: Bring Me To Life

Chapter Text

Unfortunately, the floor hadn't fully dried from when she'd first started, and Beth had allowed her emotions to take control of her actions. Walking too forcefully across damp wood was only going to lead to one outcome: a nasty fall.

She'd had that happen before while she was working, in a rush – she'd nearly wound up doing the splits, while partially throwing out her lower spine. That hadn't been fun to recover from for the next few days. But at least she'd landed on her knees that time around! Beyond the sore back, all she'd had to deal with was some minor bruising! Here, she was about to go belly-up, smacking flat into the ground, potentially cracking open her head. Oh, this was going to suck, on so many levels - !

Alastor knew that she'd been about to tell him off, as soon as he'd caught sight of the glare in her green eyes, and the physical stance she'd taken up. He'd been preparing himself for her rebuttal, watching in growing anticipation as she'd began making her way over. Perhaps she'd finally figured out his little game, too? Well, there wasn't much she could do to stop him from finding his own entertainment, since he really wasn't in the mood to lend any assistance in regards to cleaning. And, if she really wanted to pick a fight, he would be more than willing to remind her just who held the cards here.

However, the sudden shock of having her feet swept right out from under her heated stride, had not been on his agenda. Granted, it could have provided quite the humorous moment at her expense. He would have been free to make as many jokes as his heart desired, about the poor girl not even knowing how to put one foot in front of the other, let alone paying attention to her surroundings, or even this being a sort of karma in regards to lashing out against the one who pulled all the strings.

At the same time...if she got hurt, then what? Forget snarky commentary, or the rest of the chores. She might not be able to return to work. They'd be stuck at home. She could easily wind up in the hospital – heck, he was lucky that this hadn't been the outcome the night she'd passed out on the floor after his dispatching of her unwanted admirer!

And, beyond that...it would take even longer to get her to smile.

It happened in a flash, before she could identify the events and sensations, or lack of them. Instead of colliding against the floor, Beth now found herself dangling at an angle above the wood. A long arm was wrapped around her waist, while Alastor's left hand was entwined with her right. Slowly, he led her upwards, drawing her into place. Her heart was hammering, as she was forced to lock gazes with that familiar, haunting red stare. Surveying her flustered, frumpy appearance with a self-assured grin, he carefully brought her forwards, until her feet were once again securely planted in place.

He hadn't even been able to register what had just occurred between them. In one instant, he'd been standing there, about to start laughing until his sides hurt, at the sight of Beth landing on her back like an off-balance turtle. Served her right, for putting a damper on his fun! However, right at the moment when he'd gotten caught between acknowledgment of her getting hurt, and her blasted hidden smile...

Then. That was when he'd found himself, moving as if on instinct, to keep the daft woman from smashing her head and spine into the solid wooden surface. He held her in his grasp, yet again, as if they were caught in the middle of a passionate dance. Like the night he'd first properly introduced himself to her. She wasn't making any motion to pull away; he wasn't even sure if she could speak, based off of the expression to her features. As he carefully eased her down, his gaze did a cursory sweep of her thin figure. She was doing her best not to tremble, eyes wide, as she offered up a nod. After another momentary pause, she finally spoke.

“Y-You...well, that happened. Umm. Yeah...but, uhh. Right.” She was doing everything in her power to both regard him properly, while at the same time not break down from the intensity of his stare. For all his earlier heckling and interruptions, he had gone through the hassle of keeping her safe here. He certainly hadn't been obligated to do that, but he had. Perhaps...there was a way to get through all of this, in one piece?

Now, Beth was fiddling with her hands, but at least she was keeping her gaze trained on him. Or a part of him, anyway. When in doubt, look at someone's forehead. That's what she'd been told in therapy. Though, doing so now only reminded her of that mysterious red 'X' she'd seen upon his features how long before. So, she was forced to return her eyes to his own. “You...helped me again. Even though I'm guessing...it wasn't really high up there on your priorities list.”

Oh...? She actually knew, that he hadn't been entirely sure of his prior intentions? Well, how observant of her. Was she going to backtalk him now, because of this? Was she still caught up in the momentary lapse of being a hothead?

Ah, jeez. Here we go... “Thank you, Alastor. I know...this isn't really your cup of tea.” Yes, most of the time, he preferred coffee. “But...it could be a whole lot worse here, too. So, for whatever it's worth...I appreciate your patience.” Wait...? She thought that this – all of this, was him humoring her? No no no – this was him gradually upping the ante, making things harder for her, until she gave up and their arrangement became null and void!

It was one thing to say 'thank you'. But, it was a whole different story, having someone say you were going easy on them! He never gave any quarter! He was simply operating the best he could manage here, with the resources offered! And he wasn't looking to make a big show of it, either! That's why everything was as it was! It had absolutely nothing to do with giving a hoot about Beth, in any way, shape, fashion or form, beyond whatever she could personally do for him that was beneficial!

“Oh, don't go getting sentimental on me, darling.” The pointed emphasis on the moniker, served to drive home the message that whatever she'd meant to convey in her last comment...was either wrong, or horribly misconstrued. “It's not patience. I'm just biding my time, until I truly get tired of your incompetence and pipe dreams.”

At this, her face flushed just so, but she held in whatever potential smart-aleck comment she wanted to throw back at him. Instead, taking a deep breath, Beth offered her next proposal. “Then...why not help? If I'm so useless, and you want us to do something else...that'd be the best way to get through this slog. But, if it's not exciting enough, couldn't you...I dunno, add on a challenge for yourself? Kinda like when we played cards?”

A quiet swallow then. “Besides...I'm always grateful for whatever you do, in the end.” Her heart was skipping; her entire delivery here had been far softer, more reserved this time around. She was genuinely trying to make the bored madman see reason, as well as being honest in her need for help. He had a personable side, it was just a matter of getting it to cooperate.

Hmm. Now, Alastor was surveying her from the corner of his eye, having turned just so on his heel. It wasn't like the thought hadn't crossed his mind before. At the same time, it had only shown up when Beth had practically been barking it in his face. Which, if he could be frank, did not serve to endear the request to him any. It had been far more appealing to simply tail the maiden, messing around when the opportunity arose.

And then...then, she'd nearly gotten hurt. And was now inquiring of him, imploring him, even...for assistance. His sort of help, that only he could provide. The lending of his powers, probably, just like the time with the body. It wasn't as though he was about to jump in with his own two hands, literally scrubbing this place down.

“If it's not exciting enough, couldn't you...I dunno, add on a challenge for yourself?” Huh. When she put it like that...Beth was rather gutsy, wasn't she, undertaking this sort of task? He couldn't really remember how well he'd managed to upkeep his estate; most likely, based off of his time in Hell, being neat had always just...come instinctually to him, in spite of his tendency to make a mess. But for her, his roommate, as it were...this did not come easily. And yet, she was willing to wear herself down, tackling this repetitive series of chores?

Mm...I suppose, it would give me something to do. I've gotten bored of parlor tricks. Though, full-on touching of somebody else's personal space, is out. I'm not that generous. A scoff to himself, as he turned back to face the girl fully. “Fine, we'll do it your way. Mostly. Just this once, though. If it means we can resume being more productive.” He couldn't quite explain it; the feeling in his chest, at the sight of Beth's features lighting up...but still, with no smile in place. At least she was happier now, though?

“O-Okay! Here – we can start with the bathroom!” Leading him to the smaller space, she proceeded to explain her cleaning routine: do a dry wipe of everything inside and out of the shower, then use a wet wipe, followed by one more, sprayed down with solution, to take care of the tub area, also freshly sprayed. Yes...with one pair of hands, it was certainly backbreaking work. So, why not...

...speed it up? Now, there were two paper towels, each focused on a different area in the main part of the bathroom. Beth was about to prep the wipes, to follow after them, when they were lifted from her hands, to get to work on their own. His shadow was snickering, as Alastor pointed at the shower.

“I've taken care of this side. You handle the rest. I trust you can do that much, yes?” He'd effectively commandeered the easier half of the bathroom, but okay. It was fine. Having the task split in half, was better than nothing. So, with a new resolve, Beth proceeded to spray down the cloth and walls, before stepping inside, to get wiping and scrubbing.

She'd made it to the middle, when suddenly, a second cloth came sweeping upwards, past her face. Alastor was watching almost sleepily from the side – obviously, this was nothing to write home about. In another few moves, they'd caught up at the same point, the bathroom now finished. It was onto the kitchen from here.

Again, a similar routine. The work was divided by him, once she'd explained the gist of the various tasks. Wiping down everything, moving a few items around, to get every surface. She was making the move to haul her coffee maker to the other counter, when it began to float away from her, landing perfectly in place where she'd been aiming for previously.

Offering him another “Thanks”, Beth tried not to stare too much at his gaze. Glassy, and while obviously focused on the jobs at hand, he was also...painfully bored. It wasn't the same as the time he'd cleaned up her place before, entirely with his abilities. He'd gotten something out of that, in the form of leftovers. Here, he was actually, for the most part, simulating the activity levels of regular chores, for his own personal reasons, and was coming close to losing whatever existed of his mind. For all the problems he'd caused her earlier, Beth couldn't help but feel...bad, for him?

He could have just ignored her plea, or even kept screwing around, making things worse. But, he'd decided to instead step up, when he'd had all the right to choose otherwise, much less accomplish things in a completely different manner. Why he was going this far, she didn't know. But perhaps, Beth was just...a bit more grateful for his presence, than she was letting on?

Her back would still hurt after this. But not nearly to the degree of requiring a pill. And she'd be done with everything far quicker than usual. And it was all because of her musically-inclined, Hell-spawned companion. Now, Beth was feeling a bit of guilt. Could she really blame him for lashing out, due to boredom? Well...yeah, she still could. But, she also understood his position. Being who he was, what else could he really do, that fit him to a T?

That was when the light flicked on, as if the bulb had been struck by lightning. Clearing her throat, Beth hurried through her thoughts, falling back on her English skills, to string together a few lines. And now, setting said words to a basic beat. Whatever she could think of in the moment! It probably wasn't going to be as smooth as his impromptu performance before, but whatever! If she could get him to take the bait, then it would all be worth it!

One more time! A cough, this time finally catching Alastor's attention. Raising a brow, he regarded the woman half-heartedly. “Is there something wrong, miss Beth?” At this point, he was considering the day an absolute waste. Even though they were nearly through with the tasks at hand, it didn't help that, most likely, Beth was going to need to lie down yet again, as she was want to do so frequently. How someone could spend so much free time in bed, he had no idea. Especially when their dreams were, more often than not, fettered and heavy. But, who really knew what would happen from here.

Suddenly...a melody.

“Cleanliness, next to godliness.

But the chore is such a bore.

From laundry, to dusting, and even the floor,

Never enough, all I see: more, more, more!”

Beth's eyes were alight, a hand against her chest, while the other was extended, pointing in his direction. Alastor's eyes were widening, as he waited with bated breath for her to continue on. It was only when he saw her jerk her head, as if asking “Well?” that he finally realized...

...this was all original. And Beth was asking for a duet.

Why?? Who the heck really knew? The one thing on Alastor's mind was simply: a challenge. Beth was asking him to join her in the spotlight this time, and oh boy...but was he going to put her through her paces! She thought she was a wordsmith, eh? Not bad, not bad! Let's see if it was good enough to play off of, though! He wasn't about to lose to anybody in the musical arena!

So, inhaling deeply with a wide grin, he gestured towards her, drawing slightly nearer with a point.

“Well my dear, if I may, answer clearly,

You've an option right here, number one!

Just jump the gun, the battle is done!

What a deal, soul to steal, so much fun!”

His voice...fit quite well, actually, in both the pitch and following her words. Holy sheesh. Beth was dumbfounded – she'd never done anything like this before, let alone sang with another person to riff off of! And those lyrics, too...

Okay, she knew exactly what he was getting at here. Of course, he wanted her to make a deal with him. Certainly, she wasn't about to. But...she could have a little fun, right, assuming a role? Just so long as she didn't get carried away. The limelight was back on her, as Beth allowed her radio persona to step up, and take the reins. As if she really were performing, but this time...the crowd didn't just need to be impressed. They had to be included. And she had a real doozy of a show just waiting in the wings!

Tapping against her temples before shrugging dramatically, Beth called out, what was meant to be the chorus. Hopefully, he'd pick up on the emphasis, for the next time around.

“How I wish this could somehow go faster,

But I can't figure out what to do!

Shall I chance it, and court with disaster,

Lose it all, I don't know, when we're through!”

Ah...interesting. Very interesting. These words were important, somehow? He'd best remember them. Possibly meant to be a...break, of sorts? If so, then he'd have to figure out where to incorporate it next. He had a little time, at least, because Beth was now throwing him another bone to build off of, with a wag of her hips, and a hand cupping her chin thoughtfully. Hmm.

“Well, it's true that the offer's intriguing,

But don't count me out – no, not yet!

Such a deal, soul to steal? So misleading!

That's not a thing you should bet!”

And, she was reaching out in his direction. Back to him. He was all ready to go, with some strong lines. A good shot at reeling her in. Perhaps she'd come to her senses then?

Or not. They could just sing together...forever...

“I beg to differ – proof in hand

I'll go to the ends, to prove my case.

The world's a loss, so under command,

Let's put a smile back onto your face.”

His own smile was almost painfully wide, for once. He wasn't sure if he was trying to drive home the message, or if something else upon his mind a few seconds earlier wasn't bugging him. But whatever the case, Beth was watching him intently, though not warily, so...that was good, yes? Oh right – the chorus!

“How I wish this could somehow go faster,

But I can't figure out what to do!

Shall I chance it, and court with disaster,

Lose it all, I don't know, when we're through!”

A brief pause between them. Alastor was now staring at her, and she could feel the beads of sweat beginning to build upon her forehead. How was she going to expand upon the song from here? It still had a little ways to go! Doing her best, she added on: “I still say that you're wrong - ”

Only to be cut off, by an interjecting deer demon. “Through the course of this song?” His tone, and those words...he was mocking her, and she was not going to let him get away with it! Or at least, thinking that she was actually offended by it. She had a new idea, for how to keep this song going, until its eventual ending. It all depended on if she was reading him properly.

“I won't give up my stance!” As clear as a bell was her next line, followed swiftly by

“So, you won't take a chance?” He was still attempting to box her in, and she was not going to fall for it! Straightening her shoulders, in spite of her much shorter height, she threw out,

“I'm not that slow!” At this, Alastor let out a short laugh, before replying:

“You'll just wind up below!” Maybe, but it would be on her terms, not his! Now, her arms were crossed over her chest as she huffed, giving him a glare. She looked for all the world like a grouchy kitten – something so tiny and brittle, determined to put up a tough front. He was chuckling softly, before she lowered her arms, palms out. She was already inhaling, eyes shut tight – he knew that another line was on the way, and this time...he wasn't going to wait for her to finish. With where they stood, he had a pretty good idea of the topic on her mind, anyway.

“I gueeess, we're at an impaaasse...!” Beth's eyes immediately snapped open, as she regarded the cooly confident demon before her. He'd...completely called her on it, hadn't he? The last line...looks like this song was about to wrap up. And if he wanted to be a part of it, then all he had to do, was keep following her lead. Shooting him another intense gaze, Beth prepared to belt out the last lyrics. He knew them well enough, by this point.

“Ohhh, how I...wish this could somehow go faster,

But I can't figure out what to do!

Shall I chance it, and court with disaster,

Lose it all, I don't know, when we're through!”

A lingering pause, the last notes fading into the air. Once more, Beth took in her unexpected singing partner. He was eagerly panting just so, grin bright and cheery. Preening, as though accepting the invisible accolades sure to be thrown his way. Like a true performer – his voice had easily sounded as good now, as it had that night before. When he'd been singing her his best Siren's song, from the depths of Hell itself.

A softening to her expression then. Her heart was starting to skip. This had absolutely been impulsive, but at the same time...

Fun. It had been an absolute blast, getting to share her hobby with someone else who didn't merely encourage it...but engaged in it, just as passionately as she herself. Somebody with a ridiculous amount of talent...and patience. No matter his claims. Because, as was obvious, she was no professional.

Yet, he'd been more than willing to take a chance – first in allowing her to care for him, then on making their special arrangement, and now...this. She was sharing all sorts of beginnings with this guy, and to be quite honest...Beth wasn't sure how she was meant to feel about this.

But, the words were falling from her lips in an instant, like a secret prayer upon the wind.

“Lose it all...or win big...me and you?”

Chapter 35: Cradles

Chapter Text

Immediately, that twitch atop his head. Alastor was now looking over at the girl, in amused questioning. That...had been a most intriguing series of words strung together there. And, he was positive, it wasn't meant to have been heard, and certainly not by him. Not with the expression on her face. Curiosity fully piqued, the demon slowly turned around, playfully cupping a hand in front of an ear. “Oh? What was that?”

Beth was already in the process of applying damage control. Forcibly facing away, her words were short and rough. “Nothing! Nothing at all!” Really, such a pathetic brush-off! What else could she say, though? Even as she knew it wasn't enough to keep him out of her business for very long. If she really wanted a solution to this dilemma, she'd have to start brainstorming now, and ASAP. Why the hell had she said that, anyway?? Shoot – swearing jar!

Lose it all...or win big...me and you? What could something like that have even meant? Lose it all – certainly, if she gave in and obeyed his orders! If she sold her soul, to fulfill his twisted and particular quota. Or win big, though? How? It wasn't like he was aiming to help her! He was just after the next shiny thing! The next rush! The next exciting happening! Jeez, when she phrased it that way...it almost seemed as though he were some sort of junkie. Constantly chasing the high.

On the other hand, though...she was helping him. That had to be counted as some sort of win on his end, right? He wouldn't rather still be out there, struggling in some manner or other? He was living it up here with her – all at her expense, she might add!

And...all with her, too.

Me and you...win big, me and you... Was that what it was saying? That, if they worked together, good things could happen? Was that a sappy wish she'd been holding in her heart – that somehow, someway, she could change him? Either that, or...

A shudder then. Or perhaps...it was a little different than that? Because, a changed Alastor...would not be the Alastor she knew. And, who knew what that could possibly lead to. But, if something like this was more of the case, then...why was she seeing changes where there should have been none? And yet, it was still the same antagonistic roommate from the fiery pits, who'd been messing with her from the beginning. How could these two things coexist in such a way?

“Darling.” His voice, so close to her person, made Beth start rather violently. Her neck jerked painfully as her shoulders shot up sharply. Glancing over, she caught the look of warning in his gaze and stance. Even as he was leaning over, the aura he exuded was not one of acceptance. He was watching intently, for her to give him an answer. Somehow, someway. “I know there's more to it than that. Go on.”

Beth knew she was effectively done, like dinner. There was no getting out of this. She just had to...put her English skills to use, again, and hopefully, string herself a few sentences out of this predicament. So, taking in a couple of steadying breaths, she proceeded to speak. “I...I said something, that made me think. That's all.” Good, good – if he didn't ask her why she wasn't repeating the words, then -

A quick response. “What did it make you think about?” Oh, great. She hadn't expected him to go that way instead...! Now that she knew it was a way, anyhow. This hadn't been planned very well, huh?

The woman was doing her best not to choke – this was yet another performance she had to get out of, and if she didn't pull off a flawless run, she could be waving goodbye to her everything. Not an option here! What was her answer, then? “Umm...things. Things I wouldn't...normally?” She'd fumbled big time there, yyyeeep. Her reasoning was, she needed to add in something to explain the notable surprise she'd been conveying. But most likely, Alastor was going to jump right on that too.

“What sort of things are those, hmm?” Oh, yes. Although the progress was slow, the demon could tell – miss Beth was reaching some sort of breaking point. So, she'd do well to give in, and be honest. As opposed to the alternative...him, breaking her. Hmm. And he had many ways of doing that, yes indeed. Whatever it was that she was so desperate not to share here...he would get to the bottom of it, soon enough.

What else could she do now? Letting out a defeated sigh, Beth regarded him at an angle, through a long curtain of hair. Oh, how tempting it was, to reach out and brush it away. If she were going to speak up, the least she could do was face him head on.

How to phrase this...guess this is the best I've got. “Alastor...do you think demons and humans can...get along?”

Huh? That was not where he'd expected her to start off at. But, it didn't matter. He had an answer, lined up and waiting. “My dear...your kind is naught but a source of entertainment and population for my species. So, what do you think? And I say this as once having been in your position, if not your shoes.” Yeah, just emphasize how off-kilter she was, that even a psycho like him wouldn't want to be her. Made her feel so much better about where she was going with this, or had to.

“I see...well, what if that's what they want? To get along, I mean. Even with all those labels between them.” Oh...? This was...interesting. Was she actually asking...

“Are you inquiring if a demon and human can buck their assigned roles on the food chain, in order to make 'nice-nice' with one another?” That tone...Beth couldn't tell if he was trying not to crack up, or be sick. When he phrased it that way, though...it came across as both gross, as well as stupid.

So then...why was she holding onto it like a holy artifact? “If you wanna call it as such, yeah. But, I'd rather think of it as...them coming to an equal arrangement. One that doesn't involve shady deals and soul-stealing.” If that didn't beat all. She was sucking the fun out of everything!

“...or at least, between them.” Wait...she wasn't saying a ban on them entirely. Just not with 'friends'? Was that it? But why? What did it matter if they decided to have a little 'fun'? Couldn't the human take it?

Another addendum, following this one. “Because...a being can fight back with all the power in the world. But the other person...only has their heart. Their heart, connecting to and influencing everything it touches.” Now, Alastor's brow was raising, just a tad. Where...was all of this strange talk stemming from? If only either of them knew. Beth too, was shocked – her emotions were tumbling out of their own accord, with just the slightest bit of give on her end! How delusional and desperate for an outlet was she?!

The deer-demon scoffed, as if unsure of what he was actually hearing here. “If you think that demons don't have influence, you're even denser than I would have first thought.” Uhh...okay? Was that what she'd ultimately been saying here?

She shook her head. Why did it matter if he understood her, anyway? What did she care if he thought she was dumb? What was so important about gaining his approval? “No, I mean – of course demons have...hearts? Or, something akin to it. Right? Somewhere their strongest feelings stem from, and I guess...infect all they do and say. Sorry for the visuals.”

Oh, why would he be worried about that? This was pretty intriguing. What was she trying to get at here? Just what topics, exactly, had been on her mind before this? “And yeah...a demon could easily influence a human.” A pause. “But then, why...why couldn't it go the other way, too?”

Immediately, that sharp pang, both in his chest and side. Why was that blasted scar choosing to act up now, of all instances?? Whatever the reason, he had to brush it off, doing his best not to reel from Beth's silly questioning statement. A demon...being influenced by a human? Not on your life!

Demons had nothing to gain from the majority of people, beyond the sustenance they could provide. As far as insipid things like 'communication' and 'relationships' went, those didn't exist in any sort of proper sense, way down below. Who needed those in the fiery pits, when most folks were perfectly content acting on a snap judgment, giving into instinct and impulse? The sorts of things humans wanted, to a degree, so did demons. But genuine 'connections', were only formed by those on the same team! I.e, no such thing as 'bonding' between either side as opposites! Humans had nothing else to contribute to the cursed populace!

So then...what would he call this current arrangement he had with Beth? At this sudden inquiry, he froze.

Call it...? There was nothing to call it! It was just something set up to kill time, as he gradually made the loopy girl go even crazier, until she finally gave in to him. She was amusing to watch, at least, more so than he would have expected. Not problematic. Pretty easy to mold, for the most part. Only rigid where it counted. Decent company.

...wait a minute. What was that last one? Decent...company? Her?? If he were actually saying such a thing here...then wouldn't that make him a hypocrite on his last screed? The brakes were slamming, but he was both flying, as well as being smashed. The sensation...was something.

No, no no! This instance was different! He was playing a part, and playing along, in order to get his ultimate prize: the soul of Beth. Elusive, vexing, haunting Beth. This bizarre human specimen who'd somehow gotten herself tied up with him, as a unique person of interest. Once she was in his clutches...that was it. The farce fell, and she would have to accept her ultimate fate. After everything she'd put him through...he was sure to make it memorable.

“It can't. Demons and humans cannot co-exist in such a manner. It's all only for the temporary gain you grant us, as well as further offspring. But there will never be a true understanding between both sides. Nothing good would come from it.” Beth was starting to deflate a little, seemingly exhausted by the current conversation. In reality...it was simply a sad acceptance of his words. Of course something like that wouldn't happen here. She was just an idiot, who had too much of an imagination.

Now, Beth was staring at her feet. “I see. Well...alright, then. Thanks...for answering me honestly, Alastor.” Although he acknowledged her words, he continued to feel a tad wary, unsure if she were going to spring anything else on him. Most likely not, considering he'd popped her bubble so thoroughly, but still...best to be aware. The woman was now turning her attention back to the counters.

“We have some stuff left to clean. Uhh, I mean...if you're still okay with helping out?” She wasn't looking at him, instead focused entirely upon the sink. He nodded, even as she couldn't see it, picking up his tools one more time. Beth was already resuming the job of scrubbing the handles and main pipe with the wipe. Inside her head...

She'd managed to get him to back off surely, for the time being. But, at what price? It was highly likely that, following this discussion, he would find some way or other to bring this up later, however soon that might be. And potentially mock her for it, too. Not even that – he straight up would continue to pick on her, as well as at her brain, once the right moment arose.

Great job, Beth. You were only supposed to solve the problem, not make it worse for you later on down the line! Why do you always insist on doing things the hard way?? She wanted to slap herself, but that wouldn't help right now. Besides, her hands were sweaty, from the gloves. She had to wash them first.

All she'd wanted to know...yeah, it did basically amount to that, didn't it? Whether or not demons and humans could be friends. Because, if she were truly honest, having spent this time with Alastor...

...she'd never forget these memories, for as long as she lived. And not just because the situations were so unusual, either. For all the stress she experienced, basically being shoved into these peculiar and out of the norm experiences...it was balanced out, by that hungry little voice, deep under the surface. Starving for just a little attention, just a drop. For once, in so long, awakened and provoked.

“When will he say yes?”

Beth had no freaking idea what this meant. But, it was going off in her head like a crate of fireworks, set alight all at once. There was something incredibly important, about this word, in regards to his character. What the heck was it referring to? It wasn't like he couldn't literally say the word, and, for all his quirks, he had helped her in a few instances – such as here and now. So then...she had no clues. Just like before.

But, what she did know...was that, for whatever odd reason, some sort of...bond, was being formed here, if only on her side, between her and the deer-demon. Whether he'd ever become aware of it, was as yet unknown. Considering he thought he knew how she operated most of the time anyway, perhaps he could actually uncover...whatever the frick kind of 'truth' was being held inside here. Would that be good – get rid of the tension, once and for all, or...

...make it worse, by perhaps admitting to things that were not meant to be spoken aloud, if sources were to be believed?

The rest of the kitchen was cleaned in record time, with Beth now moving on to the parlor, before finally backtracking to her room. After a light dusting, it was time to get settled in, to a freshly tidied house.

“Ahh...” Lying down flat on her back, Beth enjoyed the satisfying stretch and support of and for her spine, lifting her arms above her head. Undoing her hair, she was now sprawled out among the pillows, eyes closing. Alastor had followed her inside in silence, watching the woman get comfortable in her space. His eyes traveled over her form, as her prior inquiry still echoed in his mind:

“Yeah...a demon could easily influence a human. But then why...why couldn't it go the other way, too?”

He could have demanded her focus, here and now. Effectively cutting into her respite time, making her get up and dance for him once more. Whatever he asked, now that chores were finished. He could have really put her through the wringer, and possibly even gotten their silly arrangement declared null and void, all because she got too riled up, and had an accidental slip of the tongue. Heh.

But, all he heard, was the last notes of their performance, ringing out in his head like a bell. And, that final series of words; a personally altered line in their shared song.

“Lose it all...or win big...me and you?” This had been meant for her and her alone to hear...

...right?

“Beth.” His voice was even. Eyes opened quickly, immediately settling on the imposing figure in her doorway. Swallowing quietly, she sat up, straightening out before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. As if she were about to get up again. He still had a chance...! “Your performance earlier.”

At this, the girl felt her heart jolt, as if shocked directly. Oh...she'd been so glad to have come up with the idea, and so thrilled to have had a partner too, no matter who they were in the heat of the moment! All of her common sense had left her, in favor of spontaneity. She'd just assumed, based on his reaction, that he'd been okay with it, as well.

But, what if...she'd been wrong? What if...this was the point he did her in? Or, had she just done herself in?

Doing her best to keep her nerves steady, Beth regarded him. “Yes...? What about it?” Alright, nice start. No stuttering. She was attempting to keep her gaze fixed in his general direction, though not exactly on him. Right now, she wasn't sure if she could manage full eye-contact, not knowing what was about to happen next from here.

Straightening his already impeccable posture, Alastor did something unexpected: turned away, leaving the room. “You weren't bad. I'll remember that.”

Beth's jaw was dropping, as those six words continued to echo throughout her mind. “You weren't bad. I'll remember that.” He...actually thought she was okay? Him, of all people? He wasn't about to...drag her, for having messed anything up? She'd actually done well, in his opinion?? He was, dare she say it...happy? With the activity?

Or possibly...with her?

This thought would not leave Beth alone, as she rolled over, settling down for a brief afternoon nap. Thank goodness her back wasn't screaming at her this time around! She would always be appreciative of any help she received. After all...she knew what it was like, to be without a support system. She'd never take any of it for granted.

No matter the form it may have come in.

As for Alastor, on the other hand...he was currently in the parlor once more, glancing out the window, wondering why he'd even bothered with his comment, let alone decided to leave Beth be, in a rare show of...well, something. He wouldn't call it compassion. Perhaps he'd actually needed a break from the girl, considering everything she'd laid on him?

One thing was for certain, though: he wasn't lying about her vocals. If he could have, he would have said a whole lot more. But, at that moment...his own voice, funny thing, had chosen to grow rather particular, about what words passed through his lips. It wasn't allowing for anything remotely akin to a full compliment out, and why now, of any other time, he couldn't understand. He'd have had all the reason to congratulate her here, after such an enrapturing curveball! And all for his sake, too!

On the other side, however...it might have been better, not to court disaster. Just like the song said. There was a precarious edge, that both of them were teetering on. If one of them fell, dragging down their partner into that pit of something unfamiliar, yet reminiscent, all at once. The damages would be...impressive, in the worst way possible. Beth was, seemingly unintentionally...trying to corrupt him, into her way of thinking. To a degree. It made her sound like a sort of virus, or poison. His classification. He was as deadly as they came.

But now...so was she? How so? Ha, not a chance! This girl was nothing more than a fleeting past-time, something to ease the monotonous lull that had crept into his second existence. So far, she'd done that in bushels, whether or not she fully understood this, and even if her methods were...unconventional, they'd still worked. In the end, if any sort of 'corrupting' was to be had, it would start from him. Never the other way around. He was the one who got under people's skins! He was the winner in this bizarre tug of war, with a bright and beautiful soul, ready for the taking!

Wait. Beth's soul...was beautiful to him?

No – it was not! It was just the current prize on the line! That was its allure! Once he'd gotten what he'd wanted, he'd move on, and this whole situation would fade away, a random memory that he'd be able to look back upon and laugh over. He'd never want it again.

With that, he headed for the couch, though this time, he chose to lie back upon the cushions fully. Arms folded atop his chest, he allowed his eyes to close. Although he wasn't the biggest fan of it...at this moment, he'd pull a page from miss Beth's handbook, and sneak a catnap. If he stayed up as he was right now, he'd probably go insane, more so than he already was. He just needed a quick clear of the head – almost like meditation?

Interestingly enough, he'd nodded off shortly after retiring with that thought. Now...just what skeletons were hidden in the closet of the Radio Demon?

…...

Voices, rising upon the air. Words he could understand, but didn't give any mind to. He'd been too busy trying to keep still in his seat, standing when ordered, sitting when released. He had far more important things to do – it was so nice outside.

Perhaps, if he was too busy here, they could go out together. Just the two of them. Like to the park, searching for treasures again? Things such as pretty stones, and feathers. That was always fun, especially when she let him play along with her games, once they'd returned home. They were kind of structured like these ones in the church.

Now, he was looking to his right, as his legs swung over the edge of the pew. Out of the corner of his eyes, behind a pair of small spectacles, he surveyed the peaceful figure beside him. Softly hued, modest attire – not flashy, or inappropriate. Nothing rich, but clean enough for a day's excursion. All hand-stitched, where necessary, by she herself.

Her deeply hued, curled locks were pulled away from her face, in a neat knot behind her head. A few little ringlets were by her temples and ears. A darker, tanned complexion looked even softer in the garments she'd chosen, and her lips were slightly pulled up into a gentle smile. The scent around her was...intoxicating, a mix of sweetness and spice, without being overpowering. And, her eyes...a warm brown, though in the right lighting, they took on a shade of wine. Just like his own.

Then, she caught his gaze, offering him a tiny wave. He could feel his own mouth extending into a grin, as he scooted a bit closer. Her figure...was both setting off the alarms, as well as offering up one helluva brew of feelings. As if he were flying; like he weren't surrounded by constant depravity and loss of hope. All with that stance: something delicate, yet as he regarded her, he had a feeling...this stranger was a lot stronger than one might expect. Was that where the positivity came from?

The sound of heavy bells ringing out, interrupted his thoughts, as the assembled crowd proceeded to disperse. His companion beside him stood up, taking his hand in her own gloved one, leading him down the rows, and out the double doors. In front of the building, the crowds were milling, though nobody came to greet them. This was fine with him; he didn't really know or care for most of the people here, anyway. It wasn't like he lived with them, or spent any time besides this together.

Small. Why was he so small again? He couldn't understand. But, it was acceptable here, if only because in her presence...it just was.

Then, they stopped, about to round a nearby corner. That was where a heavily-garbed figure stood, a rumbling tone spreading out towards where he and the unknown woman stood. He couldn't tell, if they were merely talking, or possibly laughing. Even yelling. But, that wasn't important here. As soon as the sound caught in his ears, he'd known instinctively:

He recognized them. And he did not like them. At all.

Suddenly, they were back in front of the doors. The woman beside him was kneeling down now, her face still a blur, in spite of the features he could identify. As if the pieces only cleared, one by one, flickering in and out of focus. Still though, he could tell: she was smiling again, as she ruffled his hair with a playful, tender touch.

Why was she allowed to do that...?

“Hey. You ready to go to the park?” And there he was, suddenly throwing his arms around her neck, laughing like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her returned embrace...he couldn't explain the emotions brought forth, but whatever they were...he couldn't do a damn thing to push them away. They overwhelmed his person entirely, as they walked down a short hill, before strolling along the sidewalk. He couldn't make out any of the surroundings; all he was focused on, was the woman beside him, and her touch. Still holding his hand, so securely and yet kindly.

Kind...who would ever be so foolish as to let their guard down so blatantly in front of him?

Soon enough, they were passing through the wooden entryway to what appeared to be a wide green field, with a winding couple of trails among the gradually thickening trees. He could feel the gravel and dirt crunch beneath his shoes, the grass crinkle and sink. In a relaxed, dreamy step, they made their way across the main path, heading up the hill towards the denser concentration of thicket.

That was where the vision had ended.

Chapter 36: No Rain

Chapter Text

Following the events of the weekend, another five days had gone by at the station. Not much had occurred, save for the constant continuing streams of praise for Beth's programming block. It had gotten to the point, that the head of management had shown up during a break to congratulate her, on keeping up the listener enthusiasm with her engaging additions.

Beth had just felt lucky that he hadn't come in when the 'dear deer' had still been visibly making himself at home in her booth. He'd had to hide under her switchboard, in the gap behind the roller bag. Once the man had left, Alastor had popped back out, with a couple of passing comments in regards to the running of the business. This could be taken one of two ways: he was curious as to how the modern day stations operated, as opposed to the old school...

...or, he genuinely cared as to whether or not she was being treated well here.

In actuality...it was a mix of the two? Yes, it was certainly interesting, to see just how much things had changed, from his day. The way contracts and programming were set up, the hours in the studio, the duties of a good announcer. Things like that. Basic notes, beats to hit, as he kept expanding his observations on the new world, the new age, as it were. On the other side, however...he had to admit, in regards to being a good host, Beth didn't quite fit that category, no.

She was better.

And, had he gotten wind of her talents being disrespected, or her being kept down in her position at the station, for whatever foolish reason a mortal could concoct...oh. Well then. He and his...'friends', would be paying them a visit, sparing a few words, perhaps...

...after all, wasn't it a nice gesture, to send off the dead with a fond farewell?

Aside from all of that, the manager had also let slip: a car wash donation drive was coming up in the next three weeks, for Memorial Day. One of the local organizations had given a large offering to their company, for helping to promote their cause, and this was how they wanted to show their appreciation: by raising money for a charity. It was going to involve everyone local on their channel, as well as volunteers.

She had to get ready to help run a whole themed show on the affair, on location. There would be various tasks to handle: the actual labor of the wash, money management, commentary, promotion, sponsors. Everybody would get a chance to step up in front of the mic as well, or participate at some point – nobody was allowed to just sit on the sidelines. Sometimes, people could also be jerks, too. They'd show up to talk down the event, getting some sort of weird kick out of wasting time in the spotlight. She'd have to be prepared to deal with the possible hecklers.

Or, there was the other option entirely: that no matter how much effort they put in, nobody would turn up, not even troublemakers. After all, for as much as it was a good deed, a nice thought...how many people would be willing to go out on a holiday, for such a thing? If the timing just didn't work...

Well...at least I'll have something kinda fun to look forward to? Already brainstorming ideas in her head, Beth had tuned out for a little bit, as she'd been gathering her things together after Friday's shift.

She hadn't 'celebrated' the event much, though it was important in her old household. Her Grandpa had been a veteran of one of the wars. He'd continued to work with his teammates who were still alive, to run a club of sorts for their former unit. It had been highly decorated and respected in the field, and every so often, an article or video would be written up or recorded, with the group giving interviews, or taking pictures. They'd even had anniversaries! The group had been quite respected, in her old community. Such a flawless image her whole family put forth to the various adoring masses.

And then...there was her.

A mental shove to her conscious mind, refusing to wander any further. For the time being, she could relax. Just work on the project intermittently, and get a bit of advice from the rest her team. She could email back and forth with the other four – most likely, Joey would be the one to reach out to her. But, she could always, oh, be the first one to cast the line?

A thoughtful pause, as once again, the stud spun under her lower lip. Now, her nerves had been kicking in. No...she'd just be patient, and wait.

As Saturday morning rolled in, Beth asleep under the bedcovers in her room, a certain someone was currently on patrol in the parlor...or, he may as well have been, what with how he was pacing back and forth. Arms tucked behind his back, refusing to allow himself to lie down on that gateway to impending doom. I.e, the couch. Last time he'd ever take a bothersome 'nap', yes sirree!

For nearly the last week, those strange visions had been swirling around his mind's eye. From the demure energies of the unknown female, to that shadowy figure outside the church, and then...the park. There had been a strangely mixed sense of...serene solemnity. As if there was more of a purpose than just 'treasure hunting', as he'd so phrased it in his mind. Perhaps, those little odds and ends, were being picked up for a purpose.

But, if so...what was it? And why couldn't he remember it?!

Argh, how frustrating! On the one hand, he didn't want anything to do with these confounding images! He didn't want to acknowledge that they could have had anything to do with him – be it his current life, or his past as a wretched human. Before he'd found himself. Before he'd been strong enough, and blessed enough, to make all his wishes come true.

And...where had he gotten that strength from?

On the other side, it was frustrating, not to have all the answers. To understand what the mental picture shows were trying to show him. As much as he didn't want to address the 'memories' – if that was even what they were – he absolutely hated not knowing, as well. And he wasn't sure which aggravation was worse. He still didn't have a darn clue what was triggering them, to begin with! In all his time among the fiery pits, he'd never experienced such things playing out. Only now, that he was back on Earth, healing from a brush with potential death.

All while in the company of one Beth S. Okino.

Speaking of said woman, she was currently trying to figure out what the plans were for the day. She didn't need to go shopping for any groceries, though she could have simply ventured out for fresh air. Either in her neighborhood, or further downtown, nearer to her studio. That was where the mall was located, among other places. A change of scenery was always nice.

She could have simply stayed tuned into the weekend programming on her station, too. Soon enough though, she'd get sleepy, with nothing to do beyond listen. But, she'd also be unable to slumber, seeing as the music would still be playing, and all she'd want to do was sing along, no matter how much she tried to kick back. So, it was a no-win situation there.

Hmm...perhaps set up the radio, with something else to do at the same time? To stay focused? But what? By now, Beth was making her way to the kitchen. It was roughly around ten a.m, and again...she was hungry. She still had a few eggs left. So, for the third time, she'd give that omelet a shot. At least her finger was healed, by this point. Perhaps this try, she'd get most of the ingredients in neatly, instead of breaking the yolks?

Nope. This round, all three eggs were wrecked. But at least she was still on it about not getting the shells into the bowl. Washing her hands, she resumed her work from there.

All the while, Alastor was watching from his place to the far side – he was actually standing where the TV used to be. Taking in every detail of the young miss, currently hard at work practicing the lessons that he'd taught her. Committing them to memory, never to forget the gift she'd been given.

Yes...that was a way to consider it. He'd taught her something invaluable. And in exchange, she had...she had...what had she done for him, in return? Did it even matter?

Balance. There needed to be balance. For everything he offered her, she needed to be able to back it up. One side could not be taking more than the other. It needed to be equal. So, for every instance he'd used his powers...what had Beth granted him in return?

A slight tilt of the head. Hmm...well, she'd kept him safe, in this hovel that he had grown quite used to. She'd fed him, tended to his wounds, shared her lovely voice with him. She'd given him more than one taste of her blood, as well as, despite the quality, a food source now that he was restored to his former standing. Beth had introduced him to new melodies and technology. She'd even sung with him, all for his benefit! She'd brought him to her job, a career beyond near and dear to his heart. What was left of it, anyway.

And, of course, he couldn't forget...every last one of her perfectly timed reactions. Those faces, sounds, words, gazes – everything. He never could tell what would push her buttons, but they were always so fun to discover, once he knew he'd gotten it right. He'd commit every last response to his current memory, to live on whenever he needed a good laugh. That was all.

Yes...there was no other reason why he'd ever want to recall somebody like little miss Beth.

The air was filled with the scent of a freshly cooking meal; through all of his thinking, Beth had managed to finish cutting up the ingredients – without slicing herself again, yay or nay? - and was now in the process of frying up the mix. It would be ready in a few minutes, and she'd be on her way to the table, to sit and eat. Once it was finished, though...well, what to do from there?

He wasn't the only one speculating over this particular question. Beth too, was still pondering the possibilities for the day, all while stabbing every so often at a piece of egg and toppings upon her plate. Listening to music, while doing something...productive? She'd already cleaned house – huh, hadn't thought of playing the radio then, but considering how things had turned out, it was probably better that way.

She didn't want to get right back to work on her show notes either, be they for the week or the upcoming event. She'd start them a little later today. For now, she just wanted to enjoy her down time, with something simple but engaging. What did she have around, that really fit her specifications?

She'd continued wondering in silence to herself, doing the dishes before heading to the bathroom to wash her hands. From there, back to the bedroom, to pick out her clothes. Again – something long-sleeved, or with long gloves, pants, tights, whatever. Baggy and snug too, at the same time. Her usual fashion standard, what else was new? Now, back to the day's plans...

As she was about to leave the room, her eyes happened to land on the bookshelf. They lingered upon the sketchbooks, tightly wedged between the various other titles. Huh...come to think of it, when was the last time she'd...

From there, a return to the bathroom. Upon exiting, changed into fresh attire, she'd started making her way down the short hall, back to the parlor. She had no idea yet about what she was going to do from here. Perhaps there was some sort of inspiration to be found outside of her personal space?

Ah, nope. Just Alastor, staring fixedly at the environment past the glass. Really, it was the same sight everyday – what was so engaging about it? She'd been living here five years, and had gotten used to all the comings and goings, as well as the routine. A momentary pause then.

Hmm...she was only looking at things from her perspective. On the other end...he hadn't been a part of this world for who knew how long. And, as limited as it was, this little splotch of land she lived upon...well, it was shiny and new. And, he hadn't even seen the full map beyond it. She had no clue where he even might have hailed from as a human! But that was neither here nor there. The point was, it was obviously enjoyable for him, and who was she to harsh his buzz?

It was as she continued studying him for a few seconds more, eventually gaining his attention from the staring...that it finally hit her.

Alastor...was a very unique being. Not just in his powers, what he could do...but down to the smallest details, too. The way he held himself. The way he spoke, or laughed. Whatever he talked about. His ever-present smile. How he could sing, and even cook. His sense of humor. The way he looked – his appearance was beyond striking. These were the details she lingered on, as the image of her untouched sketchbooks was flashing across her mind's eye once again.

Instantly, her eyes widened, as she spun on her heel to rush back down the hallway. She hadn't done this in what felt like ages. But, okay. Strike while the iron was hot. Wasn't that the saying?

The demon, meanwhile, was staring at her, blinking bemusedly at her actions. What was she on about now...? Interest piqued, he proceeded to follow after her. However, upon stopping in front of her door, he'd nearly fallen through, reaching out to open the barrier, only to almost be run over by a frantic Beth. In her hands were one of the hardcovers, along with a pencil and eraser. She jumped, taking in his towering visage.

“O-Oh! It's you! I mean, uhh – I know it's you! It's just, I mean – you're here! When you were originally out there! And I came in here, to grab this stuff, and go back out there! But now – you're here! Uhh...right.” What was she babbling about?

She was sighing, heading back to her bed. “I mean...you're here now, which means...I can stay, instead of going to the couch. So, that'll be easier on my back.” What the...well, that served to clear up nothing whatsoever. Alastor could only continue watching the woman, as following the setup of her small radio, she sat down on the mattress, leaning into the raised pillows. Gradually, the sound of a swelling symphonic instrumental filled the room. With her legs drawing up, she opened the book to a random page, propping it against her thighs.

That...looked like one of her sketchbooks that she was currently engaging with. Was she really about to...?

Instantly, it was like a switch was flipped. His shadow was already circling around the bed, sliding up the back wall against the headboard, to the edge of her windowsill. Alastor, on the other hand, was simply walking over, to peer down from above at whatever he could catch in his sights. Upon realizing this, Beth drew her legs up closer, hiding the book. Of course, this only caused the smile on his face to stretch ever wider. Bingo.

“Oh, Beth ~” That sing-song tone he was addressing her with, was enough to make her flinch, ducking into herself. Yeah, he definitely wanted something, and it was obvious what it was. She wasn't helping things either, by...bothering to fight in the first place. “You're not actually trying to hide your little pictures from me, are you?”

Her reply startled him, if just a tad. “I was, but...well, you'll just steamroll right over me, so...as long as you don't make fun.” Her stare was gently resolute, as she showed him one of the books he'd been flipping through, how many nights ago.

“I don't care if you don't like them, just, if you're gonna laugh...do it on your own time?” What had he thought of her artwork anyway, that instance he'd viewed it for himself...? Good, bad? Amusing, boring? Had it really been that long, that he couldn't recall? Or had he just gone through enough recently, to have something like this get buried in his mind noise?

There, upon the page, were a series of skinny-limbed, notably feminine figures. His gaze widened. Big eyes, certain...endowments, to an exaggerated degree, in the case of one of them. Stitches, wings, halos, horns, tails, scars. Huh, how interesting, that there was so much Hell-themed imagery involved. Seems that miss Beth might not have been as unaware of his world as he'd first thought?

In the strips, there was a good handful of sharp, pointy objects, along with other weapons, plus decapitation, random jokes, blood, potential orientations, and just...girls, in general. In a certain style, at that. The images were definitely reminiscent of some of the comics she owned. Though, there were enough additions and subtractions to them, that made them stand out on their own. An interesting batch of characters, if he said so himself, in spite of the odd themes. Why all girls, no ideas there, either.

But, eh. It certainly wasn't obscene. Not in his opinion. Was she going to claim this as another way to 'vent safely', or something like that? Looks as though he hadn't gotten this far in her drawings while skimming.

It was all too obvious. “This was all created by you.” His face betrayed not a single emotion, great golden grin in place like usual. He wasn't about to actually voice his thoughts on her artwork. It didn't concern him; he wasn't aiming to make her feel better about anything. That wasn't his job. It was her job, to entertain him with her emotions and emotional state.

Oh, said the little voice in the farthest reaches of his psyche, so, you won't admit, that it's just as tempting to want to see her happy?

Beth was completely unaware of her companion's current dilemma. She simply nodded, carefully taking the tablet back. “Y-Yeah...it's mine.” Now, with her book returned to her lap, she was biting at her lower lip, fiddling with the stud as well as her hands. The pencil and eraser lay at her side, not quite forgotten, but still ignored. She seemed to be debating in her mind, as if not sure what to say. About her own ideas.

It took a few more seconds, before she finally chimed in. “...aside from English, the only other subject I enjoyed, was Art. I always loved drawing, from when I was young. Never really was taught, but I adored all the assignments and projects, that fell into that vein. I used to...to draw all sorts of things, from my own cartoons to favorite characters.”

A slow inhale. “I used to...like reading for what was popular on the different music charts. I'd make up fictional logos, for stations and music that didn't exist, putting out their own countdown lists. Drawing make-believe call letters and numbers, or band logos, in some cases.That sort of thing.”

She gestured towards the book. “Those guys, however...are from when I was in high school. When I was a bit older.” A pause. Just how far was she going here? How much was okay to share, of all things...with a cannibalistic deer-demon from h-e-double hockey sticks, who bore a manipulative personality, to boot? Was she really about to trust him with this much of her, no matter how much she tried to omit?

“I'd had...well, I guess you'd call them dreams, about breaking into the comics world. Possibly going to school, learning a bit more, to polish my 'skills', as they were.” Yes. Apparently, she was. “I had a bunch of kooky, alternative ideas, that I thought would be fun to put out there.”

Alastor took note then, of the fact that the further on she spoke, the dimmer the light in her eyes grew. Did she...not actually enjoy drawing all that much? No, that made no sense. Was it simply something being recalled, that was bringing on this displeasure?

Now, she was shaking her head. “Nothing ever came of it. I tried, to get others to see my way. But nobody really...believed I could do it.” Staring straight down at her lap, her hands were bunching up the bottom edge of her long-sleeved turtleneck. She wasn't about to cry, was she? It wasn't as though she'd failed or anything. She still had her talent, even if she wasn't involved in the field. And besides – she'd wound up with a far better career, in the long run. Right now though, it probably didn't seem that way to her. He could understand that much, if not relate: she was sensitive, so having no support had made it all too easy for her to give up.

Actually, hold on. He...both could and couldn't identify fully with her situation?

In Hell, he'd had no sort of connection to build off of. He knew nothing about this vast new nightmare realm. He'd had to use what he knew from his time on Earth, and apply it to the situation. Everything that had kept him alive in the past...to grant him another five seconds, in that miserable pit. And somehow, he'd been able to eke out for himself a brand new reputation, on the backs of every last one of the miserable damned, who'd tried to cross him in some way. Dissenters, antagonists, and cannon fodder. All of them contributed to his reign of blood upon the streets.

As for his life as a human? From what he could clearly remember, he'd spent most of his time alone. And yet, he'd achieved so much. Ultimately, the message he was getting here, was that he'd been able to function perfectly fine on his own, without any sort of a crowd cheering for him in his efforts. But, you did have to factor in...

...the set of circ*mstances, that had got them both into their eventual personas. Him, the ferocious Radio Demon of Hell, and her...a world-weary young miss, broadcasting music for the masses on a weekly basis. Not a bad position to be in, though they certainly remained on radically different levels.

How she had wound up in her situation, and how he'd ended up in his – every happening that had contributed to who they were today. It was most likely vastly opposed to the other. So, he couldn't necessarily look at this as a basic case of “Well, I went through x, y, and z! Therefore, you should be able to go through this, and turn out just like me!” Oh, that argument...how he did loathe it so. And he said this as a bonafide sad*st, always eager to cause the next pain and panic.

Even if he couldn't remember as much about being human, he was pretty darn certain: whether or not their histories intersected, on any front, they were still systematically opposites to each other. After all, who's to say that she was offered any of the same opportunities as he? Or that he'd ever experienced any sort of 'crisis' at her level, whatever that could possibly be?

“What did they tell you?” Beth was now looking up at him, obviously startled by his question. He did not move, simply staring down at her, waiting for a reply. “You heard me. Now answer.” Looks like he wasn't buying any BS excuses, not today.

It took another few seconds for her to respond, though it wasn't so much out of the words being vulgar, as just simply, the feelings and recollections they invoked within her. “'Starving artists are worthless. Especially with imaginary art.'” Because it hadn't ended here, oh no, when they'd first cut her off from this. They'd tried to do it one more time, before she'd properly established herself, in her own life. Sure, some of the words had been sugar-coated...but the message was still the same across the board.

“We just need another pair of hands on board, to help out. You can always wait another year or two, to start your classes.”

“You're a selfish, spoiled brat! You only care about yourself!”

“What a waste of time. You're spending your college fund on that?”

“Why don't you just give them your funds instead? I mean...we really need you around here. Honestly, I don't wanna burst your bubble kiddo, but fields like those...”

“You can't even talk right. Who'd wanna listen to you?”

“Aww, the little scaredy-cat thinks she'll be famous! Not even if you die! Keep dreaming!”

Suddenly, a soft thud. Alastor was holding the sketchbook out to her. Currently, the song surrounding them, was none other than Paint It Black. How funny, that was the color of her tablet. His stare was cool, smile somewhat held back just a tad.

And yet, somehow still...encouraging?

“If I can see it, plain as day, it's not imaginary. So make more. I want to see how you do it.” Beth thought her eyes were about to pop out of her head, from the shock at hearing these words.

What was so outlandish here, though? He was just speaking the truth. Art had never been his forte, but if somebody had honestly told him not to make a go of it, because he would supposedly 'starve'? Or, if they'd tried to talk him out of his eventual chosen profession, because of the same 'reasons'? He'd have, as they'd say, 'torn them a new one'. She'd been younger than she was now, obviously. By how many years, he wasn't certain.

But, it didn't matter. Whatever the case, this or these faceless strangers, had effectively killed her dream. So, although it really wasn't important in the grand scheme of things, one way or another...he'd rather see her happily scribbling away, still minus the smile, than shut down and reminiscing on a bunch of malarkey that really shouldn't have mattered, at this point in time. It was all for his benefit, what would personally suit him. Not what would be better for Beth, in the long run.

After all...she existed for him alone, did she not?

A hollow thud in his chest. What...did that mean, exactly, that he was now starting to have such concepts invade his thoughts? Much less so freely? At this point, Alastor had turned away, just so, enough for Beth to lift the book back against her legs, and start scribbling. Soon, he was facing the door, as he continued pondering the previous train of thought. While yes, it was true, she was meant to focus on him above all else, if she so wished to live...

...he had a funny feeling, that this was not what the intrusive introspection was alluding to here. And he didn't like it one bit.

His shadow continued to peek over Beth's shoulder, eyes widening between the image, the artist, and its Master. A few moments of being torn, trying to decide what was the best, most amusing course of action here. Should it go for the typical praise, or...a taste of surprise?

A soft growl then, as it darted back into the wall shadows. It wouldn't be a tattle-tail, this time. Let Alastor figure it out on his own.