Hell en Pointe | Alastor ✓

chapter 3

Oh Hell naw.

You grimaced as he slithered over to you. You kept your face as blank as possible, a sudden defiance overcoming you. You were bitter that he remembered you, although a little flattered.

"Who are you?" you said, unamused.

"Alastor, the Radio Demon!" he exclaimed, sticking out a gloved hand. His grin was wide and broad, is eyes sultry and bright red. His face was angular and flawless, and he had somwhat long hair for a man and was around seven feet tall. He was aggravatingly handsome. You narrowed your eyes.

"My southern hospitality only goes so far, sugar," you practically growled. Fuck. You shouldn't have said that. Now you've made it painfully obvious that you dislike him, or in other words, you've made it quite evident that you know exactly who he is. You then added, "How do you know me? How do you know my name?" You know exactly how.

Alastor notices this and his smile grew. "I never forget a face."

"A-hem..." a new figure clears his throat. He was a ebiny and yellow-range colored cobra thing with narrow eyes, fangs, and slithering tongue. Strange. Who is he?

"Except for that guy," Alastor jabbed a finger in his direction.

"Sir Pentious," said Charlie anxiously, gesturing both her hands his way to introduce him. She seemed to have broken a sweat. Was it the undeniable tension in the room?

You remained quiet, deciding to bring back that graceful and ekegant demeanor and use it to your advantage. You raised your brows at him and tried to make your face as neutral as possible. You didn't want anyone, especially not him, to be made aware that you feared him. He did own your soul, after all. You bit the inside of your cheek aggressively, fearing what he may do with it.

It was here where you had an intense staring contest with Alastor. His bright scarlet eyes bore into your own, that stupid-ass grin never departed from his lips. You glared right back, making it falsely known to all in the room that you did not fear him whatsoever. Alastor seemed challenged, and he also seemed like he was enjoying it. He leaned onto his cane. He towered over you by about a foot.

"Well...!" interjected Charlie. You broke the contact and looked over at the blonde. "Let me go get your keys Miss. I'll be back in a jiffy!" She sped away with a cloud of smoke.

How were you going to survive this?

୨୧

You suppose you could just leave. You could go back to your estate and go back to your lonesome, maybe read a book or two, maybe go to your own personal studio and dance around mindlessly. That's what you did most days. But no. You couldn't do that. Not now. You felt curious of Alastor, wanting to know his true intentions. Maybe you could figure out what he wanted with you. Maybe you could...

Your soul. You wanted your soul back. After all, what is an Overlord with no ownership over their own soul? You may have a decent heart but you crave power more than any other Demon in Hell, and this is something you wanted even more than that.

Your hands found your chest, feeling where your heart would be, where your soul would be. Then you remembered what you are, where you are, and who you are — your heart was probably has black as the dark maroon night that always enveloped the skies here in Hell.

"So Miss..." A voice broke you from your thoughts. It was Angel Dust. You were all lounging on the couches in the living room area. A little tiny girl who you soon learned to be named Niffty was digging into a gaping hole in the couch and pulling out bugs and roaches and eating them. You tried not to look at her. You also had no idea where Charlie and Vaggie were, nor Alastor. You knew Husk was at the bar, however. You snuck a glance over to some nearby bookshelves. Sir Pentious was browsing.

"Yes?" you acknowledged.

"You a dancer?"

Your face scrunched up. "How did you...?" Your eyes trailed down to the pointe shoes strewn along your shoulder like a bag. "Oh."

"Me too," said Angel, putting a pair of arms beneath his head and allowing the other two to cross over his chest. His left leg was crossed over his right as he laid casually on the couch. He smirked. "On the pole.."

"Ooh, ooh!" exclamed Niffty, popping out of the raggedy couch, still chewing on a roach or two. "Is the new girl baaaad? Is she a baaaad dancer like Angel?"

"No, Niffty," you smiled sweetly. "I do ballet."

"Clearly," Angel joked, raising his brows at your pointe shoes. "But what else do ya do?"

"Uhmmm..." you racked your brain. You were about to say "anything and everything" but that seemed not very believable, and plus, Angel may not know what "anything and everything" means. He may... take it the wrong way.

"Go on.."

"Well, ballet, duh," you began, counting on your long fingers. "Contemporary dance, hip-hop dance, folk dance, ballroom dance, Acro, Irish, Burlesque, Latin..." you thought more extensively. "Oh. And jazz and swing of course."

"Wow. That's impressive, toots."

You suddenly felt a presence behind you, like a ghost or something, and noticed the air was a little colder than usual (which is fucking weird in Hell). You glanced back for a moment, finding nothing but shadows and maybe a glint of red, but you chose to ignore it. Still, you were very unnerved. Who could be watching you? Creepy...

"I'm flattered Angel." You really liked him. He was sweet. And you loved his confidence.

"So ya've never tried pole?" he said in awe.

"No, honey, no," you said and waved him off gracefully. "But it wouldn't hurt to give it a try, I suppose. Dance is dance."

His pink eyes lit up like stars. "Really? That's great! I could teach the professional a thing or two." He grinned.

"We'll see," you winked. You gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Nothing provocative, though."

"A classy girl," said Angel. "I see, I see..."

"You could say that."

"She's not a bad girlllll..." murmured Niffty in disappointment. She sunk sadly into the hole in the couch.

"Aw, Niffty," you said in amusment and feign pity. Your eyes suddenly glowed a striking yellow as you said, "Would it help if I told you I own... Oh, I dunno..." Niffty popped up to look at you in curiosity, "...over a 100,000 souls in the south?" You smiled sinisterly. "And that doesn't even count those outside of the south and those on Earth."

"Oh, oh, ohhhh!" squealed Niffty, her tiny frame bouncing up and down, her cyclops eye wide as her long eyelashes batted up in down as she blinked. "She really is a baaadddd girlllll!"

Maybe you liked it here more than you thought.