This is a direct continuation of my first book.
(Hazbin Hotel) The Radio Demon and The Doe-Eyed Killer
So if you haven't read that book yet, go read it because you will be VERY confused if you don't!
I know year 2020 has already come and gone for us...
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Farouk doesn't even know how many hours he's spent just sitting in silence with bloody palms and tears cascading down his face.
He doesn't even feel the tears hitting his dampening pants legs. He was somehow cognitive enough to stand and numbly bandage Old Joe and placed the Imp on the bed in the tiny one room apartment. He doesn't remember sending a vaguely worded text to Vinny to come and checkup on Old Joe for him in the next few hours...he doesn't want to remember anything at all right now.
And yet, his mind refuses to relent as he slowly closes the apartment door with a click of the lock being the trigger for his memory stupor. He numbly walks down the streets of Envy while he expertly avoided bumping into anyone as they rush for cover to avoid the acid rain that begins to pour down around them.
His body moves on autopilot, all the while memories are flashing before his eyes like some horrible conglomeration of choppy images all crashing together in a messy slideshow. He should've known from the start that something wasn't right about that kid. It was obvious from the moment he looked into Aciano's eyes when they first met.
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He's never seen the eyes of a five year oldchild look so 🤬 lifeless and empty before. He remembered that day mostly because of the fact that little brat had given him a black eye, kicked Rasim in the groin, and punched Leonidas in the chin before finally calming down once Leonidas started speaking to him in Spanish...
It was obvious to Leo back then that the boy was on his own for a long time, despite being only five years old! Farouk was stunned by the assumptions actually being true when little Aciano softly mumbled into his chest that he's been alone at the age of 🤬 two!!!
Two!!!!!
Farouk's thoughts on the moment he first heard that child's small timid voice whispering into Leo's chest in comparison to his rather colorful worded shouts and catlike hissing when they first cornered the boy was: *What in the actual 🤬—he's five? He looks like he's three years old?*
