𝐇𝐇 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 - Hazbin Hotel

Clauneck

Summary:

Lucifer confused Alastor with Lilith

And now Alastor is going to have a son that he wants to get rid of.

(All events occur after the last episode of the first season)

The next wave of pain crossed his body halfway, causing him to have to hold on to a damn lantern that only served to decorate the streets of the cannibal city.

Each attempt to breathe became more difficult as the minutes passed, and the metallic taste of blood emanating from his tongue, which had been wounded at the beginning of its journey by his own teeth in an unconscious reaction, only made him feel more pathetic.

Luckily, the nights in hell were no different from human ones, and even less so for its inhabitants who seemed to be sleeping peacefully in their homes.

Yes, sleeping peacefully...

...as he was doing in the hotel until the extraordinary pain in his lower abdomen increased, as did the wet, warm sensation between his legs.

He wasn't going to lie (but neither was he going to admit) that at that moment he panicked slightly, since he knew well that he couldn't do the job by himself. At least not in the Hotel where the walls were still thin and did not have the necessary material for the procedure to go unnoticed by its tenants.

Luckily, Rosie, who he saw as a mother since he knew her in depth, knew in advance about the situation and, therefore, had in her house the materials that would be used to avoid complications... like a second death, for example.

The problem now was that his magic was not working as it normally would, so he had to use his shadows in a limited way to get there. And yet, he felt that he was very far from his destination, savoring the pain with every step he took and experiencing fleeting confusion in short periods of time regarding the assertiveness of the path he was taking. Another wave of pain ran through his spine, but instead of slowing down his steps, it increased them along with the sudden and latent feeling that he should do everything possible to get there as soon as possible.

So he ran. He ran like a maniac hoping that this action charged with pure adrenaline would mitigate the pain or at least make him able to endure it for a few more minutes. He even hugged himself in an unconscious act as he perceived an intense cold running through his entire anatomy, which was still out of proportion to the scorching heat in his lower part. And suddenly, voices... He cursed everything that existed when his senses caught the presence of some citizens who seemed to have gathered to look for a midnight snack. He sighed with a hand covering his mouth. Perhaps in other circumstances he would have even accompanied them to taste the most juicy and tender meat in hell, if it weren't that right now it was his own flesh that wanted to get rid of his body at any cost.

He muttered some more expletives from the alley he had entered the moment he realized he was not alone. Unfortunately, he knew that his next action could be life or death, but his body was no longer holding up and he did not believe that he could continue doing it at that pace without being discovered. So, summoning the last of his strength, he melted into the shadows.

Rosie looked at the scene outside her home with some trepidation. She had even taken another drag on her cigarette while running a hand over her impeccable dress to smooth it even more than it already was. Her left foot began to tap the ground, releasing the same mood that manifested with each of her actions.

And perhaps, because of that she had not paid as much attention to the strong smell of blood until she heard the resounding sound of the trash cans falling along with the materialized body of the one she had been waiting for so long.

Without thinking, she released what was left of nicotine, to run towards the body that didn't seem to be able to get up from the ground.

"Alastor..." Rosie whispered heavily as she positioned herself at the same height of the much feared radio demon. Noticing that the scent of blood was becoming stronger and stronger as a crimson puddle formed beneath his feet. "Is it time?"

The named one raised his head a little, at least enough to reveal his half-closed eyes and his typical yellow-toothed smile with the lower corners now bathed in blood. "It seems so..." a sound of static emerged from his being, and after that, he could only feel how the wound in his chest seemed to want to burst his organs out.