Eternal Rot

Party Like the Sinners

The mug felt odd against his lips as he drank the hot coffee, not letting it cool so that it would burn him, as the last person to use the cup had been Lucifer. He pressed his lip to where the devil once did, closing his tired eyes, trying everything to feel some sort of connect where there was none. Vince had already left him alone, as he had work, and he wasn't one to coddle his lovers after a night of excitement. Bow down to, yes, but cuddle and give aftercare to? Not a chance in Hell. He did not even spare a moment to share a cup of joe, as he said he would drink some in the office.

Once Alastor had managed to get himself up from the table, the memory of the night before burnt into his body, lips still swollen and hips on fire, he crossed into the hallway, then into his study, sitting at his typewriter. He had written all morning, filling page after page of work. It was his day off, yet he worked to make a story that Lucifer would surely return for. Days would turn into weeks of this, and soon the story was coming to a close.

He was onto the last chapter. The main character was getting married to the devil, their wedding ending in a night of passion, and now an epilogue, one that would surely mean a fourth book. Their child was now an adult, so their story had to begin, as the two lovebirds remained in their honeymoon phase in the background. He typed the first paragraph, fingers moving swiftly as he pressed into the keys, and once the words had left him, he straightened his spine, a noise catching his attention.

The man scooted back from his work, startled. He stood from the machine, and as he left the study his career was effectively ruined, as he would never be able to return to his typewriter ever again.

He walked himself outside, following the commotion as he had, the sky gray, snow actually falling in a surprising twist. It had only started to get cold, yet, the snow was thick enough for him to have to trudge through it, picking up his boots an inch or so each step.

He made his way to his shed, where forbidden to most, yet, it was open, noises of metal scraping filling the man's senses as he peeked inside, hand inside of his shirt where he kept his pistol, just in case things had gotten dicey. Though, he soon relaxed, smiling with a sigh as he leaned against the frame, trying to act casual despite the annoyance that filled his stomach, "Mimzy! Oh my stars, you had me jumping at shadows!"

"Oh!" The little woman spun around, surprised to see Alastor home in the first place, "I didn't know you were home, sweetheart! I could certainly use your expertise!"

"H'm?" Al walked inside, closing the door behind of them for privacy, as he knew she meant in the killing sense, as she had asked for his services beforehand, "What stiff has stood you up now, my dear?"

"No- I mean he did- and I stabbed the shit outta him." The woman began to babble about all the horrible things she had done to the man in question, "But- hey- I'm a piece of work, and any man, cop or no, should know that it takes more than macho to get under my skirt!" She began to pace, her furious ramblings only growing in intensity, "He won't even fuck'n die! I stabbed the bitch like a million times!" She swung her hips back and forth, her voice vile to Alastor's senses, "He threatened to shut me down if I didn't sleep with him. Can ya believe it?"

Al rubbed his hands together, a familiar longing rising in the pit of his stomach. Chaos, murder, blood, flesh, he couldn't wait to watch life fade from someone's eyes. He had held off for so long, too focused on his lost lover, and too preoccupied with writing. He bowed to his little friend, happily singing, "I guess you do need me. I know best, after all." He pecked her forehead, calming her nerves as he often did back when they were younger, the sins about to be committed were certainly enough to summon the king of Hell back to him.

"Fuck, yeah!" Mimzy cheered, "Good to have Alastor the fucking terrible back! Let's go roast that pig up, and maybe we can toast after?"

"Sounds délicieuse, make sure to get the Jägermeister ready." The man stood straight now, soul stirring darkly beneath his itching flesh, his hand grasping his throat to hold down his arousal, the ideas he had nearly making him drool, "I have to fetch a certain devotee so he can see for himself what I do best. If he doesn't like it, he'll be added to the menu."