Hell en Pointe | Alastor ✓

chapter 20

Not wasting a second, with your blood pumping through your ears, making you temporarily deaf from adrenaline, you quickly and agilely darted toward the front desk in a rushing sprint. Vox cried out in shock at your sudden movement, reaching out to stop you, but you were much faster than him, and your legs a whole lot stronger.

Your hands clasped around the microphone, gripping it tightly, and you bolted off down the hallways, running past multiple offices and broken doors with graffiti sprayed all over them. You crashed into a few coffee carts and nearly tripped over some wires, but you kept going, searching restlessly for an exit.

Instead of staying with Valentino to get the pleasure of killing Alastor by his hands, Vox instead darted after you, roaring loudly in fury at your sudden, unexpected escape. You could hear his feet pounding the dusty, debris-ridden floors behind you, right on your tail. You were lucky your lower-body was so strong from countless years of dancing, or you would have never been able to outrun him.

You panted, struggling to catch your breath as you turned past hallways and into promising rooms, hoping to find a back door to the place at any moment.

"Get the fuck back here you slippery little bitch!" Vox yelled in anger, slamming into walls trying to keep up with you. You felt tears brimming your eyes, and your was throat as dry as the sahara desert. You wheezed, looking back and forth between a crossroads. unsure of which path to take. This place certainly didn't look this big on the outside...

"Fuck!" you cried out, making the ultimate decision to turn left, praying endlessly that it was the right one, that it would lead you to the exit to get the fuck out of this shit hole. The place smelled so strongly of must you wanted to vomit, dust and other strange particles getting into your eyes and making them burn, making it hard to draw in a breath.

You ran and ran and ran, and to your incredible relief, at the very end of the hallway was a yellowed exit sign that was no longer lit, but held a pale red hue on its letters. You could cry from relief.

But then, like the world was just dying to fuck you in the ass, Vox slid in to your view from a threshold connected to the left wall, right in front of the exit.

"End of the road, pretty girl," said Vox sinisterly. His breaths were heavy as his body relaxed from the running, finally catching you. Your heart sunk to the floor. Fuck fuck fuck. I'm so fucked.

Vox ran up and tackled you, sending you both crashing to the floor. Your breath escaped your lungs from the impact and you were winded, fighting Vox off you with all your might.

"Shit!" you cried, clawing at him. But he held your wrists down and prevented you from harming him anymore. He laughed loudly in your face. "Get off of me!"

"No where else to go, Miss Kitty," he sneered. "Looks like your claws have been snipped!"

You panicked, adrenaline coursing through your veins, wondering what to do. Then, an idea popped into your mind. You grinned with teeth.

"Not my knees, motherfucker!" you brought your knee up, kicking Vox right in the balls. He cried out in agonizing pain and rolled over onto the floor, yelling out strings of curses. You scrambled to pick up the microphone that had escaped your grasp and rushed out the exit.

The fresh cold air slapped your face as you stepped out into the street, taking a shortcut through an alleyway until you were on the same sidewalk that Alastor had threatened that guy on. Afraid that he would still try to catch up with you, you never stopped running, pushing past people carelessly and going to the bus stop as quickly as you can.

When you made it, a certain tall, dark, and handsome brunette was sitting there waiting for you with his hands folded on his lap.

"Al.. Alastor?!" you panted in shock. How the actual fuck did he get here before you did?

"I'm disappointed, really," he said with a grin, flicking his hair out of his face. "Quite dismayed, rather."

"Wha...?" you said breathlessly, putting your hands on your knees, still clutching to microphone in your slender left hand. "Disapp... Disappointed? Over..? Over... what?"

He tugged on the white glove he wore, rubbing on a small blood stain as he stood up. "I wasn't able to kill that son of a bitch... it's rather annoying, really. I landed a good stab to his side, however!"

Sometimes you wondered what the fuck was wrong with him.

"Congratulations," you groaned sarcastically, holding your head in your hands.

"Cheer up, my dear!" said Alastor cheerfully. "We made it out alive! Is that not something to celebrate with, oh, I don't know..." his eyes grew dark and menacing again, "...a little murder?"

"I already agreed to kill that 'old friend' of yours," you sighed. "What more could you possibly want?"

A line of traffic stopped in front of you. People walked by, talking into their phones and to each other amongst themselves. Your adrenaline was slowly beginning to fade away, and your legs were beginning to hurt from the running and your back from getting slammed into the ground by Vox, who could be God-knows-where right now on his way to murder you in cold blood. Let's just say you were itching to get out of here the second you got the chance.

Alastor approached a stopped car, an old Ford, and he opened the passenger door. The middle-aged woman in the driver's seat shrieked and cried in fear from Alastor, her wrinkled face going ghostly pale as he jabbed his hunting knife into her throat, gushing blood.

"Ah, ah, ah!" he tutted. "Oh, miss, has no one ever taught you to keep your doors locked at all times, even on the road?" Alastor tore the knife out of her throat and stuck it back in stabbing her repetitively. He laughed sinisterly as you could only stare in shock. The woman was completely limp by this point.

Carelessly, he grabbed the body and with unexpected strength, threw her out of the car and into the street. His face was covered in blood, and so were his hands. His clothes, magically, were squeaky clean.

He held the passenger door open for you, and rather charmingly, while bowing like a gentleman, gestured for you to get in and said: "After you, beautiful." Alastor held his other gloved hand out for you to take.

Ehhhhh okay what the fuck. Not even processing what just happened, and admittedly quite flattered, you took his hand and allowed him to help you into the car. People began to notice the dead woman on the street and started talking, screaming, and yelling.

Alastor ignored them as if he was in his own world with just you and him. His eyes were overcast and his smile broad, and he looked as if he were entranced. It made you unnerved.

Alastor shut the passenger door and got into the driver's seat. The traffic began to let up, and leaving the dead woman and screaming people in your midst, you and Alastor left New Orleans with two items already checked off your list.