Come Hell or High Water - Striker x Reader (18+)

93. The Party, Pt. 4

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CONTENT WARNING:

This chapter contains discussions of sexual trauma that may be disturbing or troubling for some readers. Please proceed with caution.

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Alastor's tall ears perked up at the sound of a commotion outside his window, and he tore his eyes away from his current read to look at the window. His room was on one of the higher stories of the hotel, so unsurprisingly, he couldn't see anything from his seat in his old armchair. After a moment, when the muffled shouting continued, he stood, placing his book in the chair, and approached the window.

Within mere seconds, Alastor vanished from his room in a puff of red smoke and reappeared on the ground amidst the scene below.

"Good evening, gentlemen!" he greeted the two imps, tightly clutching his cane in both hands. The air around him seemed to darken, and his bright red eyes slowly morphed into beady radio dials. His toothy smile widened from ear to ear, heavy static distorting his voice when he spoke: "Might I ask what you two are doing with this young lady? "

"H-Hey, I was helping her!" Fizzarolli argued nervously, taking a few steps back. "Some fucker slipped something in her drink and brought her out here!"

Alastor turned his attention to Striker, who cradled an unconscious (Y/N) in his arms. His eerie smile shrank, and his eyes quickly reverted back to their normal state.

"Good to see you again, my friend," he said coolly to Striker, then asked in a low voice, "Now do either of you know where the perpetrator might be?"

"Y-Yeah, he should still be in that alley," Fizzarolli answered, pointing to the alleyway beside the hotel.

Alastor promptly turned on his heel and started toward the alley, the darkened aura following him as he walked.

Fizzarolli glanced at Striker. "You should probably get her inside," he said before joining Alastor to find the sinner he'd knocked out.

Striker didn't respond, but looked down at (Y/N)'s placid face for a moment, then wordlessly carried her up the hotel's front steps and through the main entrance.

There were still a few guests lingering in the lobby, all of whom turned to stare at Striker once he walked inside. Charlie and Vaggie were just exiting the banquet hall when they saw (Y/N) unconscious in the imp's arms.

"What are you doing with her?!" Charlie shouted as she darted toward him.

Striker tightened his hold on (Y/N) when Charlie came closer, but relaxed after realizing who the demon was. "Somebody drugged her," he explained. "She's alright, just unconscious."

"And just who are you, diablillo? " Vaggie snarled, prompting Striker's tail to rattle, and he mirrored her angry gaze. The lobby was full of murmurs from the guests gathered therein, a number of demons sneaking into the room to investigate the noise.

"Vaggie." Charlie placed a hand on Vaggie's arm and looked at Striker, her brows furrowing in thought. "You're Striker, aren't you?"

Striker nodded, and Charlie visibly calmed at his response. "I'm glad you're here. It — "

"Hey, what's everybody hangin' out in here for?"

Charlie and Vaggie turned to see Angel Dust curiously sauntering into the lobby, Husk directly behind him. Vaggie immediately approached the two men and said softly, "Guys, please just go back to the party."