Old No.7 | An Alastor x Reader Story

Give 'Em Hell

A man once called me a cold hearted bitch when I rejected his advances. I brushed it off as having offended his male pride, but with each skirmish that devoured the lives of my men and women. But as we sped along towards McKenny's headquarters, a cigar lounge located on the west end of the Pentagram, I began to wonder if the stranger had been right all along.

Was I a cold hearted bitch?

Alastor sitting next to me squeezed my hand reassuringly. I turned to look over at him grinning at me, "Don't worry, my dear. You have the Radio Demon on your side."

To add emphasis, he winked at me. Giving him a small, shaky smile in return, I tried to let his words soothe me. 

Alastor was right, after all. McKenny and Remus did not have an overlord on their side. That was an advantage for us alone. Maybe we could end this once and for all tonight. 

Every nerve stood on end when we finally pulled up to McKenny's cigar lounge. Gripping the pistol in my hand, I took a deep breath. This was it.

Lester opened the car door, and Alastor and I stepped out. Around us, my crew was brandishing weapons and sinister grins. I glanced from side to side, saying, "Alright, lads and ladies, let's give 'em hell."