(Hazbin Hotel) Book 2: The Radio Family, Welcome to Hell!

Chapter 300: The embodiment of freedom.

Michael woke up not to the Hellish fabricated 'sunlight' glaring into his eyes, nope he woke up to Micah's incessant nagging.

*Michael...Michael...Michael Angeles Wake Up! Something's wrong, I don't sense Azrael's presence in the Hotel at all!*

Michael immediately woke up with his eyes blaring like stars as he sat up in bed. His eyes immediately locked onto the vacant bed and then towards the note. He kicked off the bedsheets and scrambled over to snatch the note from the nightstand. While reading it Michael likely would've cursed if he had such a capability. He hastily dressed and hurried out of the room running down the halls towards the kitchen only to skid to a halt once he arrived in a dramatic fashion.

He didn't bother attempting to tune down his oppressive aura as he smacks his opened palms against the side of the doorframe with a resounding *SMACK!*

His expression was intense as he glowered into the room of startled demons and demoness's—plus baby Clementine, without an ounce of sympathy towards their pounding heartbeats.

The pet pig and shadow kitten were both cowering in a cupboard.

He didn't bother with formalities or employing that metaphorical "beating around the burning bush" tactic, nope instead he settled on openly insulting his elder brother.

"Anyone seen hide or hair of Thing One at all this morning?"

Many heads shook in a No and that had Michael groaning as he scoffed with an irritated tone. "Course not. That idiot's never been one to inform others of his impromptu departures. Why would he start now?" He rubbed his hand over his eyes and sighed, "Typical..." He then summoned the travel bag of food pills with the instant coffee, along with the addition of Azrael's weapon bag. He groaned in annoyance as he slung the bag over his shoulder and spoke towards no one in particular with the heavenly example of a 'Resting Bitch Face'.

"If you need me for anything then just get Short-Stack to deal with it. Don't Even bother getting me involved in anything else because I'm not going to answer you."

He held up three fingers and spoke with the bluntness of a grumpy coffee deprived Archangel. "The only reasons I would even bother answering is listed in this order: 1.) If Charlie, the twins, or baby Clem are in grave danger. 2.) This Hotel is burning down in flames for some unforeseeable reason. 3.) If Draegan finally decided to up and end himself and save us all the trouble of having to do it ourselves..."

"Uh, Uncle Michael..." Charlie gulped as her hands were shaking while holding onto her coffee cup when his gaze locks on her like a golden eagle staring down its next meal.

Vaggie glared at him despite the Archangel's oppressive aura still lingering around him. "Knock it off with the glaring Asshole!" Michael's eyes flared in warning but Vaggie wasn't backing down. "Or have you already forgotten that's Charlie you're glaring at? Now where the Hell are you running off to?!"

Michael grunts as his right eye twitched over that question but he's not going to state the obvious and instead he allowed Micah to answer for him. "Nowhere and everywhere. Also apologies Charlie but he's abstaining from coffee for the present time, no need to fret."

That wasn't comforting to anyone at all as Michael's own voice spoke up. "Now if you'll excuse me..." He cracks his knuckles and it shakes the room from the pressure release of his oppressive aura. It's a strong bout of pressure but it's nothing truly noteworthy anyway, Gabriel would've done far worse with just cracking his pinky finger. Michael's unhinged grin terrifying those within the room. "...I'm going hunting for an endangered—soon to be—flightless birdbrained idiot."