I Would Like Everyone To Know That The Ungodly Thing Im Gonna Post Later Today Was Partially Written

I would like everyone to know that the ungodly thing I’m gonna post later today was partially written on the property of a Christian University™️

another Yandere!Alastor imagine

(~500 words of him Making Things Worse)

I need to go to bed

———————

Alastor always seems to be there at your worst moments. It’s always a coincidence, never contrived enough to make you think that he wanted to see this. No. It was merely a stroke of fate that led him to wander into the lobby the one time you cried in public, to pass by your room just at the moment you threw something against the door…

The first time, it’s a shock, an embarrassing realization that someone has witnessed a part of you that you’d very much like to keep to yourself. But he doesn’t do anything to make you feel judged. Only asks you if everything’s quite alright, as if the answer to that isn’t blatantly obvious. Listens as you swallow the remnants of your tears, and spill a little bit more of the truth than you’d planned to when you opened your mouth, relieved to have someone, anyone to talk to. He draws you out of the shell you’ve built around yourself, lets you go on speaking - insists upon it - no matter how hesitant your voice becomes. Actually smiles wider when you do. Bids you goodnight, walks away.

It’s only long after this that you realize how much you really said. But it’s okay, you tell yourself. You’re supposed to talk about your feelings. You were lucky, if anything, to have such a willing, patient audience.

When it happens again, and again, you begin to wonder why - why he keeps finding you in these situations, and why he keeps putting up with your barely-coherant attempts to explain what, exactly, has you in such a state. Of course, it crosses your mind that it’s intentional. That he knows when you’re feeling this way, that he’s drawn to it for reasons you can only guess at.

It’s not like it’s malicious. It can’t be. If it was, he would do something other than sit there and hear you out. He certainly wouldn’t encourage you to keep talking, wouldn’t wring out every little drop of awfulness before deciding that you were ready to be left alone.

And if he says something not-so-comforting, now and again? If the tears come back after he’s spent a few minutes by your side? That’s just another coincidence. You’re set off by little things, sometimes. Benign words in the wrong tone, or little phrases that remind you too much of ugly things in your past. How is he supposed to know? He can’t possibly be expected to understand you that well.

Then again - by now, with all the things you’ve said to him, he might understand you better than anyone. And as time passes, you begin to believe that this is your fault, as well. You should have found a different confidant. Now that he’s found you, it’s a bit too late for that. It’s not like you can run to anyone else when he’s always there.

Your relief at merely having someone is gone now. You’re not sure, anymore, if it would be better to have only him, or no one at all. But it doesn’t matter - regardless of what you decide, you’re not going to be alone any time soon.

I made resumes for hazbin characters because that’s the kind of thing that amuses me, results are below

(I did angel dust, niffty, husk, pentious, and cherri bomb this round but the odds of me not making more are slim)

Pairing: Yandere!Alastor x Reader

SFW

Word Count: 2'627

Warnings: Yandere behaviour, Implied forced relationship, Implied captivity, Toxic relationship, Possessiveness, Invasion of personal space, Non-consensual touching.

Additional Notes: Do be kind, I have not written for this man before and find him exceedingly difficult.

Every week at the Hotel, there was something new Charlie had planned.

Trust exercises. Ice breakers. Activities meant to bring everybody closer together as a group. To try and get people to open up and show a side of vulnerability that - she believed - would help sinners take one step closer to salvation.

Most of them were awkward, and a lot of them never went as planned. A fact she realized and, after a near mental breakdown, had her promptly take advice from Vaggie and agree to try something different.

The task was very simple compared to the previous activities. She requested everybody to think about redemption and what it meant to them.

Thinking about the definition itself took little to no effort.

Redemption (noun): The action of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil.

But it was clear that Charlie wanted more than just a quote from the dictionary. She wanted residents of the Hotel to mull over it while looking deep down into themselves so they could share their stance on the matter later on.

That was the tricky part.

From how you saw it, “saving yourself” from sin was easy enough to accomplish. ‘Just don’t be a dick and avoid the bad shit.’ was the first thought that came to mind, but where you hit a snag was based on what Charlie had shared about Heaven. According to her, even so much as breathing in Hell was enough to solidify your place in the inferno, yet she made it clear that actively resisting sin wasn’t something to go unrecognized.

It took a lot of effort, energy, and courage to do so, and it was hard to disagree even if Heaven didn’t see it that way.

Error was a bit harder. In your opinion, nobody could be saved from that, at least not entirely. Eventually, inevitably, you or someone else would do something wrong, it was just a matter of degree. It could be something as minor as bumping into somebody by accident or as major as Angel relapsing for what felt like the hundredth time, but it would happen and it was only a matter of time.

Charlie did bring up a rather good point, though. Apologizing when you realized you had done something wrong was the best thing someone could do, and it was the first step in the right direction.

You had to give her credit where it was due for that.

But evil was a different matter entirely.

Evil lurked everywhere in Hell. Across every street, around every corner, evil was out in the open for everyone to bear witness and see. None of it was hidden. None of it was meant to be hidden.

What would be the point? You and every other sinner were already in Hell - and many would argue that hiding it would be counterintuitive to being there in the first place.

Charlie tried to plead the case that everyone had good in them. A good that could be tweezed out if given the right chance, and the right environment, which the Hotel was perfect for.

You wish you could agree.

Evil was in the hotel itself, not that Charlie was fully willing to see it.

You believed she was careless there. Little Miss Bleeding Heart wanted to see the best in people, and by god did you ever want to know what it was like to see through such rose-tinted glasses, but you knew you never could. Not in this place.

Stepping a foot into the building was the worst thing you’d ever done because it showed you just how wrong you were about evil being so out in the open. It still had the ability to lurk, something you learned the moment you shook hands with Alastor.

You could see it on his face upon meeting him for the first time - the way Alastor’s perpetual grin widened upon seeing the goosebumps that lined your arms when he clasped your hand in his. No comment was ever made on the matter, but the way his lips peeled back to reveal the black of his gums before he pressed a brief kiss to your knuckles said enough.

Something utterly sinister reeked from him in a manner you couldn’t describe, so you took your own advice and applied the same thing you did when it came to sin.

Avoidance. As much as you could, at least.

Some moments were easier than others. The distinct metallic clack of Alastor’s microphone against the floor combined with a surge of radio static usually bought enough time for you to make whatever excuse you needed in order to leave before he arrived.

Other times you weren’t so lucky, and Charlie’s group meetings were usually to blame in that regard.

At first, you made a great deal of effort to put as much distance between yourself and the Radio Demon as you could, which worked for a time. Unfortunately, Alastor caught onto what you were doing much faster than you would’ve liked.

He reveled in it. You knew he did. After a while you had the gnawing suspicion he was purposefully going out of his way to make you as uncomfortable as possible for his own entertainment. You saw no other reason as to why he’d consistently move so close to you that you could literally feel him breathing down your neck.

Lately, he had adopted the skin-crawling habit of locking eyes with you the moment you stepped foot in the room and patting the seat beside him - reserved specifically for you. Accepting the gesture felt like swallowing nails, but being openly rude to Alastor was something that you knew better than to do.

Instead, you began to find excuses for skipping the meetings entirely and have Angel or Husker fill you in later, which was exactly what you were doing now.

“To be honest I wasn’t payin’ much attention,” Angel said while he scrolled through his phone, resting his chin in his upper left hand while his lower right swirled alcohol around in a glass. “Was the kind of thing that could’ve been sent in an email.”

You traced your finger around the rim of your own glass, its contents untouched. “Still, I want to know what I missed.”

“He’s right, it wasn’t anything special,” Husker replied, slinging a cloth over his shoulder from behind the bar. “Same old bullshit about salvation with a new coat of paint on top.”

A pang went through your chest, but you pushed it down. “So nothing new?”

Angel scoffed and looked up from his phone. “Trust me, dollface, you did yourself a favor.” He downed the rest of his drink in one go. “What were you doing anyways?”

“You know…” You replied with a shrug, glancing down. “I went out.”

Angel smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Out?”

“Yeah.” You tapped your nails against the edge of the glass. “Things were feeling a little claustrophobic, so I went out for some air.”

Husker made a noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah, I know how you feel, kid. This place is a mess.”

Angel tilted his head, placing his phone down on the bar and leaning forward a bit. “So where’d you go? Anywhere fun?”

“Where indeed~.”

All your movements went rigid. After a few seconds, you slowly turned your head to look over your shoulder to see Alastor standing barely a foot away from you, staring down at you with a tight, closed-lipped smile. You hadn’t heard him coming in the slightest, which you immediately could tell was intentional.

Whether he’d used his shadow or had actually stalked up behind you wasn’t something you wanted to think about, and if Angel or Husker picked up on the immediate tension, neither of them said anything about it.

“Hey, Smiles.” Angel greeted with his usual flirtation, placing the elbows of his upper arms on the bartop as he turned to face Alastor. “Fancy a drink? You look a little stiff” He gave Alastor a very long once over, “and I’ll have you know I know a few ways I can help relieve some… tension.” 

Alastor’s lips curled back to reveal his teeth, the muscle in his cheek spasming for a moment.

Mentally you were kissing Angel on the cheek for the save as you slowly picked your coat up off the bar and slipped it on, concealing the goosebumps already present on your skin. Husker gave you a glance from the side and gave a very slight shake of his head, silently advising you against your unspoken desire to leave.

“I assure you, such a thing is never going to happen.~”

“You sure?” Angel rested his lower right arm on his hip. “I have a few tricks that can loosen you up.”

The leather in Alastor’s gloves audibly squeaked as his grip tightened around the staff of his microphone and his attention immediately shifted back to you, ignoring Angel entirely.

“My dear,” His voice dripped with such a saccharine sweetness it made you feel sick, “Could I speak with you for a moment?”

Fewer combinations of words could instill such a unique feeling of encroaching dread all at once, but you refused to let it show as you nodded and turned your body on the bar stool to face him fully; waiting for him to say the first word.

His eye twitched ever so slightly.

“Privately.”

That made you swallow.

“Sure.” You slid off the bar stool, doing your best not to appear as reluctant as you felt.

“Lovely.~” He said, promptly turning on his heel and walking towards the staircase - expecting you to follow.

You glanced back towards Husker and Angel, each giving you looks of grim sympathy and confusion respectively before you took a deep breath and forced one foot in front of the other, following Alastor up the steps.

You thought he would talk along the way. Engage in some form of idle chit-chat where he’d be pulling the strings, or even hum along to the countless jazz tunes that he played in the halls over the Hotel’s sound system.

But no such music played and he remained silent. A few minutes into the walk you gathered enough courage to glance up at him and found his eyes locked straight forward, not even sparing you so much as a glance.

You averted your gaze, the hem of your sleeves suddenly the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen.

Eventually, he came to a stop, and he held out the end of his microphone to prevent you from going any further down the hallway.

“Here we are!” Rather than producing a key from his coat, a green flash emanated from the lock when he placed his hand on the handle and opened the door.

He all but leered at you as he gave a small bow that didn’t feel genuine in the slightest.

“After you.~”

Like the alleged gentleman he was, Alastor held the door open for you, eyes never leaving your form as you walked inside his suite.

The smell of dampness and soil hit you immediately.

Alastor’s suite wasn’t the worst thing you’d seen in Hell by a mile, however, it was still eerie beyond words. The skeletons that hung along the walls and mantlepiece of his fireplace became less complete and increasingly disorganized as they led further into the room - which itself gave way to a swamp-like environment halfway through. Undoubtedly a result of whatever hoodoo, voodoo bullshit he was capable of, and while it still wasn’t the worst you’d seen, it served its purpose thoroughly.

It creeped the shit out of you.

“Now, then.” Alastor clicked the door shut, his body half-facing yours as his hand still lingered on the doorknob. “I'm sure you have a good explanation for what you’ve been doing.~”

The immediate dryness in your throat was hard to ignore. You knew what he was talking about, and you knew that he knew, but you still attempted to buy some time as you tried to figure out what to do.

You cleared your throat. “I was just catching up with Angel and Husk-”

He chuckled, the sound like that of a radio shifting stations. “Don’t be coy.” His head turned towards you with a sickening, ossified crackle that bent his neck in a manner that made your stomach lurch. “You’ve been avoiding me, and I’d like to know why.”

Fuck.

“I haven’t.” Lying to Alastor was a mistake, but you still decided to risk it since it wasn’t entirely false. “There’s just been a lot on my mind recently.”

“Hmm.” Interest and something much worse flickered behind his eyes as he faced you fully with another crack of his vertebrae. “Such as~?”

You shook your head, looking away from him. “That’s private.”

There was a quick flash of red, and the tip of his microphone turned your face back towards him - the cool metal of the edge digging into the skin of your cheek. You had to bite back a grimace.

“Not when it concerns me.” His tone was sharp, a stark contrast to the faux politeness he was putting on before. He kept the tip of his microphone where it was to prevent your eyes from looking anywhere but him. “And trust me darling, when it comes to you, everything concerns me.”

His words twisted in your gut. “...I’m not sure what you mean.”

Alastor tutted, his smile widening once more. “Don’t be stupid, darling, it’s unbecoming of you.” The way he said it was patronizing, like he was scolding a child. “You know precisely what I mean, so I’m going to ask again, as much as I hate repeating myself.~”

Cool metal was replaced with the warmth of his hand as he tilted your head up and brought his face frighteningly close to yours.

“Why are you keeping yourself from me?”

It was an odd sensation. Being backed into a corner, both metaphorically and physically. A frightening one that all but yanked on your instincts to do whatever it meant to get the fuck out of there, but you knew that was the worst thing you could do.

Alastor was a predator, a creature designed to prey on those he deemed weaker, and turning your back on a predator would almost certainly trigger a series of events that would not bode well for you.

So you did the next worst thing.

You told him the truth.

“Because I can see you.” The words felt wrong to say out loud. “I can see you for what you are, I can feel the absolute malevolence that radiates off you in waves, and it’s suffocating.”

Saying any more was a horrendous idea, but you couldn’t help but add one last thing.

“And if I want any chance at leaving this god-forsaken place, I can’t be around you.”

The silence that stretched on afterward was deafening.

Mentally, you were bracing yourself. Alastor had killed people for far less, and you expected nothing different for saying something so daring to his face.

You could see it too, the anger that simmered underneath his gaze. You expected the red of his sclera to flash black and his antlers to extend with his body in a grotesque display before you were ripped to pieces while he laughed.

What you didn’t expect was for his eyes to narrow into slits and his expression shift into one that was far more genuine than you wanted it to be, and it was then you knew that being saved from this kind of evil was never going to happen.

“Oh, my dear, you don’t need to worry about something silly like that.” Alastor all but cooed.

“After all, what makes you think I’d ever let you leave?~”

© absolute-flaming-trash 2024. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

Do you roleplay at all? If you do what are your rules/ requirements for role play/ writing with others?

You write beautifully by the way!! ❤️❤️❤️

Hi hi, thank you very much <3 I don’t RP, but if you’re looking for that I hope that you find a lovely partner whose brain is on the same wavelength as your own

also sorry I took forever to respond to this

Per This Agreement…

Alastor x Reader Oneshot

In which you attempt a desperate bargain to recover your soul, and immediately regret it.

tags/warnings: dark content, non-con themes but no actual non-con, massive power imbalance, mentions of death (reader is in hell, after all), That Chain from That Episode

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I tagged this as nsfw because there are some obvious Adult Themes, but you will not find any smut below the cut.

Alastor’s ever-present grin broadens as he peers down at you. “Oh…why would I ever do something like that?” He doesn’t sound malicious – more curious than anything – but you know better than to trust your initial impression. You’ve made that mistake with him once already.

Still, you resist the urge to look away, scared that the slightest wrong move might ruin your chances. Your freedom, and all that comes with it, hangs by a thread. You have to tread carefully, and watch your words, or you might end up digging yourself into an even deeper ditch than the one you’re already in. 

His fingers drum impatiently on his desk.

“My soul isn’t worth much to you,” you begin, sinking lower into your chair. “Or to anyone. I’m not strong, I don’t have any particular skill - I don’t have much to offer at all.”

“Oh, don’t underestimate yourself.” He tilts his head, false sympathy practically oozing from his every word. “I will find a use for you, before long.” His eyes flash. “Whether you’ll enjoy it is another story entirely.”

You proceed cautiously, sensing the danger in contradicting him. “Maybe you will. But…I’m not anything special.” You feel a fresh wave of despair at your situation. So much taken away from you, for so little gain. “You don’t need me. You’re just… holding onto me. And it would be such a relief to be let go.”

“Would it, now?” His mouth parts slightly, revealing the deadly sharp ends of his teeth.

“Yes.” It’s an understatement. A massive one. Less than a day after your arrival in hell, Alastor had come to remind you of your deal - since then, you’ve felt like a pet clawing rabidly at the bars of its cage, possessed by a desperate, all-consuming need to get out.

He tilts his head, lips pulling back to reveal even more of his oversized smile.“Do go on.”

When you look up at him now, you can picture every detail of that horrifying scene. He’d materialized behind you, catching you by your shoulder and spinning you around to face him before you’d even been aware of his presence. You remember the shudder that vibrated down your spine as you’d gazed up at him, the odd highlights and shadows that cast his face in a luminescent glow, the way his spine seemed to stretch and contort until he was practically wrapped around you. 

Even his voice was terrifying. It was pitched down, its usually smooth static fraying at the ends. “I have no use for you at the moment,” he’d informed you, before disappearing into the shadows from whence he’d came. When I do – and I expect it will be soon - I’ll call on you again.”

You’d felt a rush of sheer panic as understanding of your situation had finally taken hold. The reality that had seemed so abstract in life (at least, the short span of life you’d managed to live out after signing), made as concrete as prison walls on the day after your death.

An extra twist of the knife: he hadn’t struck the same sense of terror in you when you’d signed your soul away. Not even close. Then, he’d been downright charming. But you know now what a terrible, gut-wrenching mistake you’ve made. You’ve heard his broadcasts. You know that he’s ruthless. Sadistic. The day he does call on you will be the day you lose your soul all over again. And the time after that, and the time after that, on and on, spiraling down until your sorry existence is extinguished for good.

You don’t want things to end like that. By any means necessary, you need to cut yourself loose.

He’s deathly silent, now, face frozen at a crooked angle, waiting for you to go on. Still shuddering internally at your recollection, you oblige. “Youremember the day I…the day I agreed to this. It wasn’t that long ago. It must have been obvious that I didn’t know what I was doing. That I did it without thinking it through”-

“Yes…well. That is how it tends to happen!” There’s a twitch at the corner of his lip, and his eyes roll upwards before sliding back to your face, freezing on the nervous anticipation they find there. “I do try my best to be clear about my terms, but some people just don’t quite understand.”

“Well…I understand now. And now that I do - I want out.” You force yourself to keep facing forward, to keep looking directly at him, despite the uncanny red glow burning in his eyes. He hasn’t taken them off of you for more than a moment. “No one wants to be in hell, but I think I can do alright in the time I have left. I just want to lay low, eke out the best existence I can. Find some peace. But”- You swallow, hard. “I won’t have any peace until my soul is back in my own hands.”

You had had an inane sort of hope that words alone might be enough to untangle you, but one look at his face is enough to rob you of that delusion.

“What a compelling appeal.” His voice is dry. Mocking. He leans over the desk, and drops his head so that he’s staring up at you. The sudden shift it perspective sets you off balance. “I do appreciate you sharing – really, I do – but your little sob story doesn’t answer my question. Why should I release you?” He straightens up, looking down on you once more. A gloved hand unfurls in your direction, gesturing towards you with an open palm. “You’ve given me no reason! And I’ll admit that I don’t appreciate having my time wasted, especially after it’s been begged for, so” -

You recoil, just a fraction of an inch, as his spine seems to extend, bringing his face far too close to your own for comfort.

“So. If you do have anything to back up your request, I suggest that you speak quickly.”

A knot pulls tight in your stomach. All of your more favorable options are off the table, now. You couldn’t imagine it going any other way, but oh, how painfully fast this moment has arrived. You only realize now how treacherous your path to freedom really is, and how woefully ill-prepared you are to lay your cards down on the table.

After a few seconds of your silence, his lips pull back, revealing even more of that terrible, ever-present smile. “You know…if it hadn’t been for this little meeting, you might have been able to find some semblance of that peace you’ve been looking for.” His hands crawl in your direction, gloved fingers tapping far too heavily upon the desk between you. “But now, you’ve managed to irritate me.” 

There’s a shadow flickering above him - it doesn’t match his shape at all, and it’s wearing a hideous, hungry smile.

You have no choice but to speak. “I…” 

“Yes?” He lets his voice crackle to life, no longer bothering to suppress the malice underneath. 

“I’ll…”

In the past weeks, you’ve pored endlessly over the details of your situation, trying frantically to tease out a path to escape. And of course, you’ve replayed his visit countless times in your head. That night, once his hand had made contact with your shoulder, it hadn’t fallen away from you for the remainder of your conversation. He was touching you the entire time, palm sliding indiscriminately from your shoulder to your back to your waist. And yet, somehow, it seemed like he was holding something back.

It hadn’t been pleasant. But when you churned through everything in your head, trying to find a way out – any way out - that was always where your mind ended up. Every single time, it was the only path out that you saw. If you don’t take it, you’ll be trapped forever. Nothing – nothing – could be worse than that. Better to suffer now, temporarily, than to be bound to him forever.

You force the rest of the words from your mouth before you can choke on them all over. “I don’t have much to offer. But…I need to get out of this.” Already, you feel disgusted with yourself, but it’s too late to stop now. “I’d give everything I do have if it meant being free at the end.” 

As subtle as you’ve made your suggestion, you’re sickened upon hearing it out loud, in your own voice. And yet, you can’t bring yourself to regret it. If this does work…

If it does work, your soul will be yours. No one, not even him, will be able to dangle anything over your head. You’ll never have to worry again. You’ll be able to live - or at least, do whatever the equivalent of living is in hell.

He abruptly retracts into his seat, and clasps his hands on the desk. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, my dear. I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.” His eyes are flashing with cruel amusement - he knows exactly what you’re saying, and he’s going to make you elaborate anyways, purely for his own entertainment. 

You breathe shallowly through your nose, doing your best to keep your expression even. This will be worth it. Every pathetic moment brings you closer to relief. 

And yet, you find your gaze dropping to the floor. “Anything,” you say, cringing at the way your voice gasps from your mouth, barely audible. You screw up your resolve, and raise your face, looking him dead in the eye. If you have to be sordid - so be it. “You can…use me however you please. I’ll crawl under this desk right now, if that’s what you want. All I want is a promise that I’ll be let go at the end. That I’ll do your bidding once, and then be done.”

His eyes darken. His hands curl into claws upon the desk beneath him. 

And then, he laughs. Cruelly, his voice deepening and distorting to the point of being nearly unrecognizable. It echoes forth from his mouth, a torrent of static that seems to bounce off of every wall in the room, flooding your ears. “I think you’ve misunderstood your situation.” 

He flicks out his hand. In it appears the end of a golden chain. You sit frozen in terror as you watch the rest of it materialize, link by link, crawling over the edge of the desk and up your thighs, your stomach, your chest - it ends in a thick collar that quickly fastens around your neck. The entire thing radiates a faint green light, giving it an ethereal appearance, but it’s solid to the touch. You can feel its weight, and the harsh metal against your throat. It’s tight enough that you feel claustrophobic, millimeters away from truly choking you, biting into your skin. You’re gasping for breath - whether from the collar, or sheer panic, you’re not entirely sure. You desperately pull at it, then attempt to slide your fingers underneath, but it doesn’t budge.

Alastor rises from his chair, and takes his time pacing around the side of the desk. When he’s standing over you, he hooks his boot on the leg of your chair, effortlessly dragging you around to face him. He takes his time gathering the loose chain in his hands, wrapping it around itself until only a short, taught length remains free. 

He takes the end of this in one hand, and yanks. You tumble to the floor, falling directly at his feet.

“I own your soul, my dear. I own you.” He tugs the chain up towards the ceiling, and you follow, scrambling up onto your knees. You’re panting for breath, staring wide-eyed at the floor, too scared of what you might see to look up. There’s a green light emanating above your head, casting monstrous shadows upon the hardwood beneath you.

“You have nothing to bargain with” - the chain jerks sharply, dragging you forward - “because everything you have is already mine. To do with as I wish.”

Your hands are curled into fists at your sides. Stomach sinking with dread.

“So,” he continues, “If I were interested in what you have to offer…” He hinges over you, holding your chain tightly as he lowers his face to your ear. “It would already be mine.”

A whimper escapes your mouth. Immediately, you wish you could have swallowed it in time. The chain whips down, losing its slack as it approaches the floor, pulling you down with it. You fall flat on your stomach, fingernails uselessly scrabbling for purchase on the smooth wood beneath them. You make the mistake of looking up, and immediately, your entire field of view is taken up by his manic expression, shoved violently into your face. For a moment, red bars of light – the same hue as his eyes - flash across your vision, blinding you entirely.

“For as long as I own you – which will be for the remainder of your wretched existence – you are at my disposal.” His voice rips into your ears, as harshly as the luminescent glow surrounding him pierces your eyes. “I’m not interested in anything from you at the moment. But if I ever am – no matter what it is - I’ll have no need to wait for any sort of bargain on your end.” He rises to his full height, loosing just enough of the chain to allow you to remain on the floor beneath him. “Understood?”

You nod silently.

His fist clenches and pulls upwards, impossibly quick. You gasp for breath as your neck is jerked up from the floor.

“Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Splendid.” The chain disappears, and you collapse to the ground, too quickly to catch yourself on your hands. The last gasp of air is ripped from your lungs.

You let your eyes settle on the very bottom of the wall across from you, all too aware of the grin that awaits you if you dare raise your head. Your head is spinning, not from the impact, but from the realization that you have absolutely nothing left. You’ve gained nothing – and you’ve lost more than you thought was possible. Maybe, if you hadn’t come crawling to him today, you could have found a way to bear your situation, dire as it was. But now, you know that you’ll never feel at ease again. Every odd shadow in your bedroom, every unexplained noise you hear in the middle of the night, is going to haunt you for as long as you…

As long as you exist, you suppose. Even the hellish equivalent of a proper life is out of reach for you now.

A polished boot taps the floor, directly beside your head. “I think we’re done for today, my dear.”

You continue to lie motionless, your trembling limbs refusing to move from where they’re splayed upon the floor.

Alastor sighs, and bends down over you, thrusting his widened eyes directly in front of your own. A shadow flickers over the patch of wall before you, and his voice rumbles out from between his parted teeth, hideously distorted. “Leave.”

You scramble to your feet, and practically sprint to the exit. Your hand fumbles over the doorknob, missing once before catching it, your own breath loud and erratic in your ears as you shove the door open.

Just before you can swing it closed behind you, you hear his voice one final time.

“Farewell…for now.”

Before you can even consider responding, the door slams shut, without any help from you.