𝐑𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

Numbness

Angel sat there, completely numb. He felt nothing anymore.
Not since Alastor gave him back to Valentino eight years ago.
Not since Alastor started dating Mimzy. His other best friend.

He wanted freedom.
He wanted love.
He wanted to be dead.
But he'll never get the sweet release of death.
Not with Valentino.

Angel sat in Valentinos lap, feeling the member thrust against his g-spot. But he felt nothing.

And yet, he pretended he did.

"V- Va-- Daddy, please, fill yer' needy slut with ya cum. Make me scream an' cry an' bleed." He pleaded in the moths ear, licking and nibbling his jaw to show his submission. "Good boy." The moth said, picking up his pace.
Soon, he finally came inside of the spider. He pushed Angel out of his lap and tucked himself in his pants again. "Ya got a strip show tonight. Shove dat' tight cunt in people's mouths. Make them drool over ya."

Great.

Angel nodded and shakily got up, cum dripping down his smooth thighs. He limped past the pimp and to his dressing room, shutting the door and collapsing to his knees.
He let out pitiful, quiet sobs.

He craved death.
He wanted to have his head cut off.
Maybe his heart ripped out and crushed.
Or his neck broken.

Why can't he be free?

Just for one hour. One minute.

He just wanted freedom.
.
.
.
.
Alastor wanted to slice Mimzys throat open right now. "Angel was just a slut. You freed yourself from him, Alastor. You made the right choice." Mimzy whispered to Alastor.

Alastor nodded. He learned that Angel cheated on him with Valentino and Vox so why not give him back to them?

He walked past Mimzy and towards the hotel gates, leaving the building. He walked for hours until he bumped into someone. "My apologies-"

He stopped talking, seeing the horror of Angel's body.

Scars.
Burns.
Bruises.
Bites.
Missing one arm.
A swollen eye.
A large V symbol on Angels neck.
Whip lashes.

"I'm sorry." Was all Angel said before walking away.

"An-"

Vox grabbed Angel and pinned him to the wall, aggressively making out with him. Alastor froze.

"Val says your fuckin' done. He wants you back at the studio now." He growled against Angel's lips.
"I was on my way." Angel replied with a monotone voice. It made Alastors ears hurt just by hearing that.

Angel looked at Alastor. His eyes lifeless and dull.

The Radio Demon cringed at the emotionless expression he was staring at. "Radio Demon." Vox spat.

"Vox." Alastor hissed.

Angel stayed silent, "May I have permission to-" Vox snapped his fingers and the spiders lips were brutally stitched together magically. "Go to the pornstudio." Vox ordered.

Angel obeyed and walked away with a shadow escort created by Vox.

"Thank you for giving us our best whore back. But he needed new slut training and punishments thanks to your stupid redemption hotel." Vox snarled, clenching his fists. "Ah. I do not care for the spider. Do what you wish with it." Alastor replied.
Vox's eyes widened for a moment. "Whatever, Old Tech." Vox scoffed before walking away.
.
.
.
.
Angel crawled into his dressing room, blood gushing out of his body. He felt weak. So weak.

The spider collapsed on his bed, hoping the blood loss would kill him. He hoped Valentinos beatings would become too aggressive and kill him.
But it never happened.

Angel craved death.

He wanted to be put out of his misery.

kill me. Kill me now. Rip my limbs off and eat my skin. Anything that'll keep me from regenerating.

He stared at the sharp, large knife on his vanity. He grabbed it and cut deep lines lines his body. Scarring his skin.
He heated the knife with his lighter and burnt himself purposefully.

Burn me. Burn me. Burn me.

Fire.

I need something sharper.

Angel opened his dressers, looking for a sharper item. He soon found it. A large, very sharp shard of glass in the corner of his room. The spider grabbed it and cut deeper lines in himself.

He couldn't speak.
He couldn't eat.
He couldn't feel.
He couldn't be normal.

"Angel?" A static voice called, he looked up from his scarred wrists and thighs. "Mmh?" The spider mumbled, unable to speak. "Angel, I-" the deer cut off, staring at Angels bloody, bruised body.

His thighs were covered in cuts.
His wrists marked in red.
His neck had bandages around it.

He looked broken.

Undone.

He looked worse then ever.

It was Alastors fault.

All of his fault.