Remote Access (Alastor x Vox)

Chapter 18 Part 1

Vox felt as though he couldn't breathe—literally, he couldn't take in a breath. His heart quickened, yet his blood ran cold under the intense scrutiny of carnelian eyes that glinted devilishly back at him.

His mind scrambled, a million thoughts racing in a millisecond, all screaming for him to run, that it was too late, that the game was over. But like a fool, Vox hesitated, ensnared by the frisson of Alastor's voice. It crackled with static, hitting Vox like an icy wave, resonating through every fiber of his being.

"Well, this is a shock..." Alastor mused, his tone laced with genuine surprise. Yet, beneath that surprise lay something far more sinister. His shadow grew and twisted around Vox, moving with the predatory grace of a wolf encircling its prey. The shadow's gnarled expression reflected the murderous glee that danced in its master's eyes.

For a moment, Vox allowed the thrill of fear to wash over him. A shiver ran down his spine, a deep pit forming in his stomach. 

Survival instincts suddenly kicked in, and without another second to spare, Vox summoned the last of his energy. He transformed into a bright blue arc of electricity, desperately streaking towards the nearest window in a bid to escape.

Unfortunately for him, Alastor was one step quicker. The deer whipped his arm out and pointed the remote control directly at Vox with a wicked expression etched across his face. All it took was a single click of a button, and just as Vox reached the glass, he felt himself slow, forcibly reverting to his physical form. He was left completely immobilized, one arm outstretched towards the window.

Vox growled in frustration and panic. His circuits fired madly, sending frantic signals flashing over his display. He could feel the shudder of his muscles just beneath the surface and see the desperate twitching of his fingers, but in the end, it was futile to break free.

The exhaustion and pain from his injuries surged back with a vengeance, the angry pulse of his cracked screen and bruises beginning to throb.

Alastor's chuckle filled the room, sending a fresh wave of anxiety through Vox. The ominous creak of the bedroom door closing with a distinct click of the lock seemed to all but signify his sealed fate.

"Why don't you 'pause' from your dramatic exit and stay awhile?" Alastor asked cavalierly, his sinister expression softening slightly as he began to loosen his tie.

"...You and I have some unfinished business, after all," he added, eyeing Vox with an almost languid regard. Vox felt his screen begin to heat up, a prickling wave of static buzzing across his features as Alastor passed him.

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor dismissed his microphone into the ether and removed his suit jacket, draping it neatly over the back of his desk chair.

Vox's eyes followed Alastor's every move, the intermittent flicker of his screen mirroring his rising anxiety. 

Alastor continued to go about his evening routine as if not even his mortal enemy could disrupt such a ritual. The demon's nonchalance only added to the surreal atmosphere, making Vox feel like an interloper forced to witness some strange and dangerous play.

All it took was one ghostly motion and the book Vox had so carelessly handled began mending itself. Its pages folded neatly back inside their casing before floating gracefully back onto the shelf. The gentle meadow that formed the backdrop of the room slowly faded away, like a film burning in the sunlight.

Vox strained himself, forced to watch from the corners of his eyes, almost bewitched by the sight. He tried to think of a plan, a way out, but every movement Alastor made seemed to mock his powerlessness.