This is the first attempt to write the Hazbin Hotel fanfic, before the release of season 1. Since then, I've edited the story to fit with the new information about the new Prime series.
The rewritten, better fanfic is here: https://www.wattpad.com/1...
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I really, really don't want to jinx anything. But the way I wake up the next morning is only raising my hopes. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. Maybe there is something about this deal.
Oh, I know I speak too soon. I haven't even tried one of Alastor's tasks.
He didn't say anything about it yesterday. Regardless, when we struck the deal, he did imply that there won't be any more lessons until I complete one of his tasks. I suppose I'll have to wait for him to call on me.
And this is why I know it's the Radio Demon I'm dealing with and no one else.
Climbing down the stairs, I judge if I could take again the risk of going outside. Maybe resume hunting and hoping I could find buyers who'd be discreet. I'll have to be really witty about it.
I aim to quickly go into the dining room and grab an apple before I see Angel is at the table, eating porridge.
I don't have time to go back before he sees me. The tension is slightly awkward. We've never truly spoken since that day in the hallway. And mistakenly spying on him doesn't count as an interaction.
"Y'know," he rests his head on one upper hand, "you don't have to avoid me."
"I don't know what I have to do," I shrug.
"I was pissed, alright?" he rolls his eyes. "It passed."
"Ok."
I still stay awkwardly in the doorway. I've forgotten why I came here in the first place.
"What's the deal with ya?" he asks.
"Nothing!"
"Are you mad at me? Ever since him, you kept to yaself."
"No, it's not..." then I shut up. I can't reveal the reason why I was so absent these days.
"Ok, then," he waves one lower hand as if something annoys him. "D'you want to come with me and Cherri to smash some shit?"
He takes me by surprise. The invitation slightly makes me feel better.
"What kind of shit?" I eye him suspiciously.
"There's an old graveyard not too far from here," he points to some direction. "We can smash some stones or candles or some shit."
"Why the hell does a graveyard exist in Hell?" I ask him.
"It's for the ones who double-die," he shrugs. When I look at him still confused, he explains further: "Nobody's mourning anybody here. After the Extermination, the graveyard fills itself with mortuary stones. A shit show from angels."
"Oh, ok. Then, I'm in!"
His eyes are big for a split of a second as if he can't believe how easy it was to convince me. Then he stands up and grabs a banana from the fruit bowl on the table.
