The Games of Alastor

Chapter Four

                              Alastor POV again

The flames swallow me. The orange flashes around me and the writhing pain catches me.

I'm in hell. Fuck, another dream like this. It may be a dream but the pain is still a bastard.

"Hello, again," a familiar voice says to me.

I threw my head back and cursed myself.

"God dammit what now?!?" I demanded. "That's no way to talk to an old friend," they replied. I chuckled at that, "I'm no friend of any demons."

"Why the hell am I in hell?" I asked.

"I need to tell you something," the real Alastor said.
"Fine," I replied. "But I'm not here to play your games so spit it out."

"Listen very close," he told me. "I can't do anything else right now," I muttered under my breath.
"You will have someone come. Someone will try to hire you as their hit man and to kill someone. They'll say it's their boss and whatever you do, do not take the job," he said in a strict tone.

"I work alone. I'm nobody's assassin. I wouldn't do it anyways."

"Oh but you would once he tells you what you get awarded your mind will change."

"Sure," I laughed. "But why can't I take the job even if I wanted to."

"I can't tell you that bit."

I roll my eyes and ask him, "Why are you warning me any ways?" He was about to respond then a cold iron knife went through my back.

I gasp awake with the pain still lingering on my body and cuse. It's not the first time a demon pulled me to hell. I got out of bed and checked my phone. It's about 3:30pm. Deciding to go check on Evan to see how that son of a bitch is doing, I hear the loudest bang ever in my living room.