Reader in Hazbin (English version)

It's a deal then

Disclaimer:
This original fanfiction is inspired by the animated web-series Hazbin Hotel. Given the hellish setting and the nature of the characters that populate it, this story may deal with themes and/or describe more or less explicit scenes of: physical and psychological (including sexual) violence, death, suicide and murder, self-harm, drug addiction, alcoholism, gambling, paraphilias, etc.
"Reader in Hazbin" is a work of pure fantasy, so any reference to real events and/or real people is purely coincidental.
This story is intended to immerse the reader in the narrative, as the protagonist of the plot. Please be advised that the contents of the text may impress or offend the sensibilities of others.
In case of particular discomfort, disturbance or involvement it is recommended to stop reading.
Considering what has been declared above, it is clear that the contents are not suitable for minors and in general for people who are particularly sensitive, impressionable or suggestible.
By continuing to read the content, the reader assumes full responsibility for the consequences that may result from such reading.
The author hereby disclaims all liability.

***

Chapter 2

It's a deal then

***

When you wake up, none of your five senses help you to understand where you are. You feel disconnected from yourself, as if your own body no longer belongs to you. Everything seems vague and blurry, one of the many nightmares that have always plagued your nights when you were damned and - you suspect - also troubled your nights when you were alive.

Slowly, your thoughts become clearer. Your mouth feels slurred and your eyelids heavy. You struggle to open your eyes and focus on your surroundings. An annoying ringing in your ears and gradually your headache becomes more excruciating. Your limbs are completely numb and you feel as if you are swaying in the air.

You stay like that - motionless, anaesthetised and in pain - for a few minutes.

Finally, you try to regain some feeling in your fingers, and only then do you really realise that your hands are stuck above your head. As you try to wriggle out of it, you realise that the annoying whistle you heard was actually a rusty, cadenced squeak. You open your eyes wide: black.

You realise that it is impossible for you to look around the room because of a blindfold. You want to scream, but suddenly it is clear to you that the taste in your mouth is that of saliva-soaked cloth, that of a tight gag. You struggle, but you have no strength in your arms to free yourself. You kick with your legs, but you can't touch or hit anything with your feet. You let your body go at the mercy of gravity and, running out of ideas and energy, some thoughts run through your mind. You try to collect your ideas as best as you can. You remember your arrival at the hotel and your surreal encounter with Alastor, the Radio Demon. The image of Husk and Niffty runs through you quickly, until your attention is focused on your tea. Wondering what they put in it, is inevitable.

A twinge in your shoulder makes you groan in pain. You don't know how long you've been hanging who knows where, swinging from that noisy hook, but one thing is certain: you want to get down from there.

Suddenly, you hear the click of a lock and the sound of a heavy door opening, scratching at the floor. The shift in the air brings a pungent smell of rancid meat to your nostrils. Nausea makes your eyes water and your throat close up, while you 'pray' inside you that you don't have to vomit in those conditions.

Tip. Tap. The sound of his footsteps makes you forget to even breathe. You are paralysed and start to break out in a cold sweat.