Oh, Sinner (A Vox Hazbin Hotel AU)

The eyes of God never shut

When Vox opens his eyes for the final time, darkness surrounds him. He can no longer feel his knees against the ground, nor see the ground at all. There's nothing except him, suspended and floating in the endless ebony sky.

A blinding flash of light appears before him, and a Vox shields his eyes from its burning glare. When he looks again, an ivory figure with rings of gold is studying him. Vox counts a dozen unblinking eyes, all tracing the outlines of Vox's body and soul.

God? he tries to ask, but speaking feels beyond his capabilities. Yet, the figure hears him.

Speak what you must.

I'm sorry, Vox admits fully, for everything I've done.

I know.

Vox's empty gaze stings and his soul feels heavier than a summer downpour. Can I still fix things? Can I make it all right again?

God just smiles at him, lips lined with gold leaf and his dozen eyes shimmering like drops of sunlight.

Oh, sinner.
    Oh...
             Hopeful sinner...

In an instant, God vanishes, and Velvette appears before Vox. Her eyes are closed, her head down as she mumbles. Chains bind her hands together, and she's perpetually in prayer. A faint circlet of a halo swivels around her hair before it's gone like a fading ember.

Velvette! he tries to scream, but his voice sounds scrambled now, an agglomeration of mechanic shrieks and artificial whirls, like a malfunctioning beast or a signal cut short. She flickers, never fully with him, and never looking up. He's alone, and the air is thick, and it dawns on him that this is his final grave.

Valentino was right.

Vox would never reach Heaven.

None of them would.

There are trembling hands around his throat now, cutting off his airway. The fingers feel familiar, and his heart yearns, but he can't tell who throttles him.