It's too warm. Too blazing hot.
It feels like I'm drifting on a sea of throbbing pain. Peeling my eyes open with a groan, I lick my lips and groan again when the movement causes my dry mouth to scratch painfully.
As my vision clears, a black ceiling swims into focus. Where am I? This isn't my room. What happened?
Memories of Alastor holding a piece of my soul and playing with it, causing me to feel unbearable and excruciating pain, buzzes uncomfortably in my skull and I jolt upright.
I remember every squeeze of his fist on my soul. It felt like someone took a knife and stabbed at my insides repeatedly. Don't get me wrong, I love pain... to a point. But, that. That wasn't pain. It was soul crushing, mind numbing, raw agony.
If I hadn't passed out from the agony, I would've begged for a second death. For Alastor to end my afterlife, just to stop the anguish.
And all for what? So I would follow him and preform a favor? I know I owe him several favors for freeing me from Val, but I deserve to morn the loss of Blueberry.
Technically, he's stuck in some sort of void that Alastor conjures up, but knowing Al, he'll never release him. Blueberry is as good as dead.
"Relax, my dear. You are safe." A smooth husky tone says and I jump with a yelp.
Alastor sits in a plush red armchair, a thick green book in his lap is opened to a random page. Tearing my eyes away from his sadistic smile, I take in my surroundings.
The bedroom has dark crimson walls, a black ceiling, and red drapes covering large glass doors that I'm assuming leads out to a balcony. The floor has shag red carpet and the bed I'm lying in, is a king with blood red comforters.
"W-Where am I?" I ask, tone thick with sleep.
"My home." I balk at his response.
Home? I thought he lived at the Hotel like I do. Although, I suppose it makes sense since he appeared at the Hotel long after I did and he had to be living somewhere before then. I do recall him disappearing some weekends and coming back the next week.
I guess it's just weird to think of Al having a house or something like that.
"What am I doin' here?" I eye him with distrust as he sets his book off to the side and leans in, elbows resting on his knees.
"You are here darling, because I am collecting one of the favors you owe me." He replies with a long pop of static and a tilt of his head.
"Riiiiiight. Of course." I snort sarcastically. "I was saved from one sadistic overlord, just ta be handed ova' ta anotha' manipulative one."
"You're hurt and not thinking clearly."
"My mind is clearer than it's eva' been. Val may have been an abusive dickbag, but at least he came by it honestly. He never used my soul fer manipulative purposes. Never hurt me the way you did. I will do ya favors, because - as you've said - I have no choice. But I want nothin' more ta do with ya." As I speak, the corners of Alastor's smile wavers and begins to fade until his mouth is pinched into a thin line.
"I see. When you are ready, meet me downstairs and we can start the favor." With that, he stands and leaves the room with a slam of the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~
By the time I gather up the courage to leave the bedroom, spend twenty minutes figuring out where the stairs are, and getting a feel for where everything is, the light outside has dimmed to a dark red.
YOU ARE READING
Secret Confessions (Book 1)
FanfictionAlastor just wants to cause chaos, make deals, and live his afterlife. But when he's forced to spend time with Angeldust on a project for the Hotel, he begins to feel things he hasn't felt since he was alive. Can he get through this project and ig...