🪰𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙🪰 | Hazbin Hotel OC Oneshots

creep. noodles.

Nobody knows about the things he's done. 

Nobody knows about the damage he caused.

Nobody knows who he is, and if they saw him out on the streets, the thought that he's a danger to them all would never cross their minds. 

After all, to them, he's just another smiling face in the crowd. He gives off an air of creepiness, perhaps. Some might find him to be an everyday bimbo with the giant hole in the back of his sweater. But, him? Dangerous? That could never be so.  

But Tooth knows. 

Tooth lay awake, staring at the ceiling of his run-down apartment. How long has it been since he slept...? A year...? Two? He closed his eyes to try to catch even a second of shut-eye, but his mind filled with images beyond horrific. His mother, twisted, contorted, writhing in pain. Her limbs stretched far beyond what should have been normal for any living thing. She cried out for help, but her voice was wrung out by the poison. 

Oh, god. 

The extermination raged on outside. Tooth wondered for a moment if it would be better for him to step outside and let the angels kill him. He had nothing left to lose, after all. He didn't even a soul left to worry about... he  had taken that, too. 

Tooth climbed out of bed and peered out of the dirt-stained window, watching as sinners of all shapes and sizes hurriedly rushed down the streets to reach safety. An exorcist flew past his window. He closed the blinds and blinked slowly. Something awful was brewing in his gut, slowly making its way up his chest, clawing its way to his throat.... 

He coughed and walked to the yellowing fridge in his bachelor kitchen. Pulling it open only revealed that the entire thing was stocked, top to bottom, with the cheapest booze on the market. And some sinner's head. Tooth grabbed a bottle and guzzled it before turning on the TV, flipping through the channels to find something, ANYTHING, that would make him feel better. 

Extermination... commercials... sitcoms... and then there was a flash of HIM. 

Tooth stopped and went back to the channel. Sure enough, the screen showed a picture of none of than the prince of flies himself standing in a dark room, his gigantic red eyes glowing like two blood stains on freshly cleaned carpet. 

He smiled. 

"Tooth," he said, his voice distorted and cracked, "I know what you did." 

I know what you did. 

The phrase echoed again and again in Tooth's head as the memory of him selling his soul to that freak of nature glitched, cut, and rewound in his mind's eye. Tooth shut the TV off, but his face was still burned into the screen. 

You belong to me, now. 

Tooth guzzled more of the drink, stumbling backwards to the fridge to grab another one. The fly's face had appeared on all the bottles, mocking him. Even the headless sinner resembled the fly guy. 

You'll never escape what you did.

Everywhere Tooth looked, that monster's face taunted him. The shark curled into a ball and started crying. 

Then, the phone rang. 

It rang, but Tooth could hardly hear it over his own sobs and the sounds of the fly mocking him. 

"Hello?" the phone asked, the voice none other than Leeroy himself. "Hello, Tooth? I need a favor, uh, it's really important. Call me back whenever you can, or I could just come over once the angels go away... anyways, I'll see you soon." 

The phone clicked, and Tooth passed out.