Overlooking Overlords

•꧁ I. - Double Life ꧂•

Quick reminder of the general warnings: violence, sexual content, drugs, alcohol

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Chapter One — Double Life
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•꧁ { start } ꧂•
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"Sooo," Charlie nudged closer and sat nervously next to you on the couch in front of the fireplace. The rest of the patrons at the hotel had gone out for various reasons. Niftty and Husk went to groceries from whatever place those were sold in Hell. Sir Pentious needed to collect the rest of his eggbois. Alastor had "business to attend to." Angel and Vaggie no one really knows.

"Yes, Charlotte?" You didn't look up from your book. A feathered pen scratched notes into the margins while you read.

"Charlie," she corrected. "I think we should get to know each other." She smiled, a little forced. Her hand tapped against the other in anxiety. Something about you made her nervous. The lack of information on you was one of the big reasons. But of course she would never pry; it isn't her place!

Your eyes quickly darted to the ground. "We already know each other, Charlotte." You looked briefly at her to offer up a weak smile.

"Well, yes," she started, hesitant to continue. "But I know almost nothing about you. Your name and—wait. Shit. All I know is your name! Is that a bad thing? I think it might be. Maybe I should put together more get-to-know-you exercises. That would help. Oh!"

You placed a delicate hand on her shoulder. "Charlotte. It's okay. I admit, I'm mostly at fault for this worrisome behavior. My, uh, mortal life wasn't exactly great," your face scrunched together. Whatever information you had begun to feed her was coming straight from hell, coincidentally.

You'd heard many a sob story in your place of work down in hell. Mismatching pieces from the thousands of stories was your last resort. How pathetic.

"How bad?" She asked. "I've never been up there. And I don't hear much of it from the others here. Of course if you don't want to tell me that's perfectly fine!."

"It's quite alright. My ex husband was a bastard," your mind spun in circles, piercing bits and pieces from other souls lives to fabricate your own life on earth. You kept talking. Words spew out before you could think them through. "And that's what got me down here. Now, it's only a matter of time until he finds me."

"Uh," she was shocked. Shit, too much? "You killed him? And his mistresses? And you—" she shuddered, visibly shaking a little.

"Too much? Perhaps a little overkill on my part. But you never know. He had to be punished for his sins and his crimes," you said nonchalantly. "It was the only way to keep the peace. The 'We can work this out' is bullshit. So, talking was out 'f the picture. No, I made quite a few deals like that. I held up my side of the bargain, and they died. Simply put."

It's not too far off, I suppose.

"So you were basically just a serial killer?" Charlie said bluntly. She felt better knowing more about you. Your mortal life had seemed rough. Sold into marriage and forced to stay with him for years. Him cheating and lying and eventually dying by your hands. But that wasn't even the top of the iceberg. You killed clients, friends, anyone who sought your "services", as you put it.

"Uh-uh, Charlotte," you tutted. "Yes, I suppose that's one way to put it. But I did things reasonably. They used me. So I used them," you explained.

"We're home!" The front doors were thrown open and Niffty scurried in with bags upon each arm. Husk trudged in behind her, same resting frown. He too carried bags filled with food to the kitchen.