Dead End. Yandere Alastor x Reader

Chapter 1.

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My fist doesn't even manage to touch the door before a loud crash echoes through the air, the source clearly to my left. I turn around and look at the steam-punk aircraft flying behind me.

I need to stop fucking drinking if I didn't even hear that approaching.

Though in Hell can you really expect a nice peaceful time?

I can't help but just stand and watch as a tiny voice makes it's way from inside the craft, shouting for..

"ALASSSTOR.." Though quiet, some words can be made out. "Come and Face-"

I run my hand across my face mentally sighing. Some people are far too.. theatrical for my taste.

I jump to attention, a small group of people running from the door behind me to see what the fuss is about. All of them too focused on the commotion to notice me. Staying put, I look at all of them, vaguely recognising Charlie and uhhh.. Is that Angel Dust the famous porn star?

Must be, look at those legs.

I take a second to admire the scenery, not caring for the drama this place is already advertising. It really fits the "hell" theme, beautiful swirls of red hues and gold, giving the exterior a very classical and refined look.

After only waiting maybe 30 seconds, I decide to head in and wait in the lobby instead. The posh aesthetic continues indoors, aside from the eyesore that was the bar. A green tint over everything in that area, as if it wasn't even meant to be there.

A bartender stood polishing a glass behind the counter. He looked barely conscious. Feeling at home on a barstool, I make my way over and take a seat.

"Hmm." The cat-like demon gumbles deeply, slitted eyes landing on my harshly. "Do I know you?"

I lean my elbows on the bar, the wood being slightly sticky against my skin, but not the worst I've ever seen. "No, but I'll take a clean whiskey."

He doesn't say anything, but huffs slightly and begins to prepare my order.

I can't help but wince slightly at the loud crashes coming from outside, a slight breeze brushes past me due to the gaping hole in the wall.

As soon as the drink is in front of me, I take it back, as if a habit. The taste burns warmth into my throat as it slides down. The most torturous part of hell is that no matter how much ice you put in a drink, it's always a disgusting Luke warm. I hope to one day get used to it but today is not that day, a grimace twisting my features.

"Too strong?" The demon chimes in, a mocking look on his face.

I scoff at his suggestion, amused by his observation, "No. I just miss ice at the end of the day."

He hums again, this time in agreement. A man of little words.

The sound from outside eventually comes to a stop.

Wow, that did not last long. I've known virgins who went on longer than that.

I twist on my seat, watching the three come back inside, Charlie's eyes immediately land on me interrupting their conversation.