Zedric's Hotel

one year later...

"Zedric."

"Mmm."

"Zedric."

"Mmm."

"Zedric!"

And her next great idea was to hit me on the head. I slowly open my eyes and there's Vaggie, standing over me like a Karen over a manager.

She starts speaking some Mexican bullshit instead of addressing me in the only language I speak.

"English, please." I say, though I'm still so tired I don't even know if she heard me.

"Get up. You have a job to do," she says.

"And you woke me up at 7 AM to tell me that?" I ask her, showing her the red numbers on my alarm clock. She simply stares at me and leaves the room.

"Where's my free breakfast?" I ask Vaggie who's walking away from me.

"Downstairs, get it yourself, I'm not-"

"My fucking maid, I know." She's said that to me countless times and I've only been here for about a few months now. Obviously the last time you guys heard something was a year ago so let me catch you up.

My name is Zedric. I was 23 years old when I died. 1997-2020. I don't think anybody has even noticed that I'm dead one year later. I had essentially no friends throughout my entire life. My schoolteachers never gave a fuck about me- then again, when do they give a fuck about anybody- my mom was a whore, my brother, an asshole, my dad, missing in action. To this day, I wondered how many people cried when they scraped my body off the pavement.

It also really doesn't help that I died at about the same time as a million people because some Asian dude got an entire cruise ship sick and then those dumbasses went to their families and got them sick and then they went to school with their loser friends and got them sick and this thing went worldwide in like a week. Then you had an orange and a raisin fighting for President Of The United States, also known as "Biggest Fucking Liar In The World". Basically, I was a small spark in the middle of a goddamn wildfire.

Anyway, when I got to Hell I didn't know anybody. So I started looking for the one person I did know was in Hell- fucking Satan herself, my mother.

After walking for what felt like miles and getting beat down by several people, I finally found my mom in some weird ass house. Although she put me through Hell, figuratively and literally, I lived with her for most of the year. Towards the end of the year, I hadn't been able to find work anywhere and eventually gave up looking and just chilled on the couch watching shitcoms (which is short for shitty sitcoms). My mother wasn't going to stand for that and she gave me 'till the end of the year before she would kick me out. If we weren't in Hell that wouldn't be a problem, but we were and I didn't know these streets like I did up there. So, I had to make a deal with the devil and try harder. Ultimately, I ended up in front of this hotel called the Hazbin Hotel. Get this, this is a hotel for sinners to "redeem themselves." When the princess of Hell, Charlie, the one who runs this shithole, told me about it, I laughed out loud. But she was serious. She actually believes that sinners can be redeemed. Princess, I am 1000% sure Hell will freeze over before that ever happens. Sadly, I couldn't say that to her face.

I realized I had to think of my next actions. If I didn't take this job, I'd be out on the streets. If we were in my old town, that would be no problem. I got those streets down like the back of my hand, but down here, in Hell? You think you know shit, but you really don't. And especially with what was coming up. At the end of every year, Lucifer, the prick who runs all of Hell, allows God to send the angels down here to slaughter everyone in sight in an attempt to cut down the population in Hell. And if you taste the angels' blade, you don't come back. That's it. The end. I don't understand why God does that instead of making Hell a bigger place since He has the power to create and all that stuff, but honestly, I don't wanna stick around when Heaven brings Hell upon the damned. I thought long and hard about all that (that's what she said) and ultimately realized there was one smart choice.

So the next Monday I was the official bellhop of the Hazbin Hotel. I can put up with a princess and her lapdog of a girlfriend. I can handle being a joke, but not being dead.

Anyway, I think you're all caught up. Back to the present.

I have no idea why Vaggie woke me up at 7 AM. I don't have to start my job until 8 AM, and even if, I'm kind of glad to be a bellhop, because I don't even have a job to do. I've been here for a few months and nobody has come here since then. But hey, if the princess wants to keep dreaming, somebody else gets to burst her bubble, because I'm not gonna take the blunt of her wrath for having to say what everyone already knew out loud.

Oops, I meant brunt. But speaking of blunt...

I pull out my secret box from the drawer next to me and pull out the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. There's about 18 more just like it in the box, but this one is special because this is the one I put in my mouth (that's what she said) and light using my thumb. Oh, did I mention that? I can light my thumb on fire. I take a puff and try not to cough when I accidentally inhale it all. I can't hold it in so I cough into my pillow for 2 minutes. When I know I'm fine, I grab my phone and open up my music. Just in case you wanna know what type of music I listen to, I head directly to the Paramore discography section.

"Let's see. What am I feeling?" I ask myself as I scroll through the list.

"All We Know, Riot, Brand New Eyes, self-titled, After Laughter..."

I find what I'm looking for and play it as I head downstairs to continue my life at the Hazbin Hotel, the worst fucking place to be in all of Hell.