Hazbin Hotel is Vizipop's creation. I only own my OC the Doe-Eyed Killer Josephine Grace, and any not canon characters, nothing else! Nor do I own the artwork you will see within this story all rights go to the artists!
Also a few villains, one mor...
Quick disclaimer: The fanart for all of the artworks in this story series are not mine. Most of the artworks I have found on Pinterest, where unless the artists names are signed in the images, crediting them is seldom mentioned in the pins descriptions on Pinterest because they are being pinned and shared in Pinterest posts by multiple people.
Which is why I only strive to use artworks that have the artists names clearly visible.
All credit for the artworks being used will *first and foremost* always go to the creators of the artwork.
I seek no profit from this whatsoever. ————————————————
1929
Oh what a glorious year!
All those big-shot businessmen were running around like chickens with their heads cut off.
Oh what drama! What humor! These pathetic fools of lust and greed, oh have they no shame? Hahahaha!
Alas, the humor faded as times grew bleak...for everyone...but still life endured! Hahaha! Even in this unforgiving times isn't it grand?
It always strikes a nerve though whenever loving families would willingly give up their children for the means of a few coins.
Where's the humanity haha...sooooo many orphans...
If you're lucky then the labor factories will pay you back for your hard work in the form of meager wages. If and only if your time is satisfactory to those big shot bosses trying desperately to pull themselves out of bankruptcy. Most children weren't so lucky, and that is where the morality line is so carelessly stomped upon!
Then there are those stories of how children are sold to do unseemly things for unseemly people with no moral code...
That my dear Madams and Monsieur's is where the culling starts... —————————————————————
Ah the sweet taste of fear.
The woman in a blood red dress happily licked the blood off the needle-like knives she used to kill her target. Now she was admiring her handiwork. The carved Cheshire smile of her canvas was the greatest art around these days.
The man was staining the bed crimson, it's a shame to waste good meat in such desperate times, but even she wouldn't dare defile her stomach with the flesh of someone so...nauseating.
This sex trafficking pimp thought that she'd be an easy night of fun after a few songs...
Oh ho ho how wrong he was!
His carved grin shall be another calling card for the enigmatic Doe-Eyed Killer.
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Her tailored blood red dress had a patterning that mimics a spray of blood. It pays homage to her father's bankrupt butcher shop. Especially after she sent the debt collectors to an early retirement.
She hid her needle-like knives within the tiny scabbard holders before pinning them back in her hair. She washed her hands and face of the blood before she descended the stairs back down into the speakeasy. She giggled and waved goodbye to the bartender as she walked out of the building. She then smirked and hummed a tune over the poisoned drinks she had served shortly after her singing was finished for the evening. The other pimps will be dead soon and those girls would be free.
As she made her way unseen back into her little squaller, she dare not call 'home', she was quickly reminded of how life is but a cruel mistress.
Sure singing in speakeasies brought a semblance of joy back into her life but money was scarce enough these days to even meek out a living. She was just lucky enough to have earned the doe needed from her killings to buy a train ticket!
Food wasn't so scarce...plenty of victims to fill up a pantry. It wasn't like she had any other option, and she wasn't put off by the way it looked to the outside world. Meat is meat, and right now you do what you must to survive.
It wasn't money or food that was the issue for her right now, it was the entertainment. It was becoming mundane to her now. She needed a newer thrill or else she'll likely become one of those crazies locked up in a madhouse!
She knew she couldn't stay here in Georgia. Huh, she'll miss the sweet Georgia peaches, but it was time for a change.
Staying in one place for to long is a recipe for disaster anyway, especially given her choice of entertainment...
Although it would be nice to settle down in one place...somewhere secluded, maybe farther down south.
She eyed her map of X's and smirked softly as she circled a familiar place.
"I think it's time I returned back to my roots. How about it New Orleans ya ready for the Doe-Eyed Killer?" —————————————————————
The train ticket was bought with a brief interrogation as she quelled suspicion about the amount of money with the batting of her eyelashes and a coy little smile.
"It's my life's savings Sir, I'm heading back home to New Orleans."
"Well...as long as you don't go causing any trouble..."
"Oh I'd never! A lady who seeks out trouble is just asking to be dead kind Sir. I thank you though for the consideration, but I won't be a bother."
She smiled as she took her ticket and meager belongings. As she walked towards the train cars her forced grin faded fast into a narrow eyed sneer. "Bunch of stuck-up pigs. Of all the indecency, thinking a lady would cause trouble...and all because of my skin tone!"
She sighed softly and quickly returned to her smiling scam before greeting the conductor as she boarded the section for the segregated train. Given her Creole descent it was no surprise that her darker skin tone was viewed down upon in most places. Her Pa was a white man with a prospering butchery just before the stock market went and crashed straight into Hell! He was a honest good-working man who loved his wife and only daughter with a fiery passion. He would gladly kill to protect them...and sadly that's how he died.
She sat down in her seat and gazed out the window with a snarl over the memory.
*Bastard robbers with their blasted guns...*
Her mother was an African American French speaking woman born and raised in Louisiana. Her Pa was also born there and was smitten by that Voodoo woman of the bayou and famed Mardi Gra Queen of New Orleans. Her dearest Mama.
She smiled softly over the memories. Ahhhhh Mardi Gra how she missed it so.
She sighed into her hand as she wondered about an old friend she had written a letter to recently.
