The dark side of the pentagram OC x Alastor (English ver.)

Why?

TW: Hints (Not explained in detail in this chapter, if you don't understand it, it's better that way), trichotillomania (mental illness where you pull out your hair), self-hatred

Alastor POV:

What was wrong with me? A few days ago I tortured sinners and then ate them, then I saved the life of a young woman and now spent the nights so that she could sleep peacefully.

I sighed, this hotel was really softening me. Luckily I only used her to get closer to Charlotte, otherwise I would have to worry about my mental state.

I snorted mirthlessly; yeah, my incredibly perfect state of mind. My hunting knife was in the secret compartment in my closet, should I?

No, she would notice, besides, what if she had another nightmare and needed help? "So much for just using her.", my shadow's voice whispered in my head.

I muffled the angry static that had almost escaped me and left it with a glare at my shadow. Of course I used her, it couldn't be otherwise. I had learned my lesson, no one would ever come near me again.

Then why did I find myself giving her a loving look again when she let out a quiet goat-like bleat in her sleep? No, not loving, possessive. Yes, I looked at her possessively.

She hadn't sold her soul to anyone yet, I could feel the ice blue, magical warmth that I longed for. This warmth would be mine. I've been missing mine for decades. I felt Lonbraj, my shadow, wrap around my waist to give me warmth I would never feel.

Why was I so weak in front of her? I just can't explain it. She knew about my deal, for Gods sake, I even told her the part about my smile. I noticed that I had started pulling my hair again.

I pulled the claws out of my hair and realized I had ripped out a few strands. Annoyed that I still couldn't get this under control, I threw the soft red strands into the trash can.

She knew too many of my secrets and had seen my vulnerable side too often. She could use all of that against me, but why didn't she? I shook my head, I needed to get those thoughts out of my head.

I would keep all the gruesome secrets I had, I wouldn't tell her anything. Why was I even thinking about it, it wasn't like I needed her help. No, it was a done deal.

Tomorrow she would get her own room, then she would no longer have a reason to show up at inopportune moments and look for my weak points. That had to be what she was doing because I could handle that.

It would be much worse if she actually cared about me... No, that was downright laughable. Who cared how I felt? I wasn't weak, I didn't need this.

These thoughts accompanied me through the night.

Crimson POV:

When I was woken up by Alastor I wanted to throw him through the wall, I had such a headache. Yesterday I probably overdid it a little with the alcohol.

Alastor, however, was in as good a mood as ever, as far as you could tell with his permanent grin. But he presumably hadn't slept again and had already made breakfast for everyone.

However, the guilty feeling it gave me was all that stopped me from strangling him as his loud radio voice tapped against the inside of my skull like a pickaxe.

"Alastor, can you please speak quieter, or with less static, that won't help my headache," I hissed as I massaged my temples. "Ah, that's because of the alcohol, my dear! You shouldn't have overdone it yesterday, then you would feel better now."

I groaned: "Yeah, I know that myself. You're really good at this voodoo stuff, isn't there anything against headaches?" He leaned down and looked at me closely. My cheeks warmed under his piercing gaze.

Suddenly he raised his arm and placed an ice-cold hand on my forehead. I winced briefly, but then I noticed a pleasant cooling tingle spreading through me and my headache disappeared as if it had never been there.

I sighed in relief as Alastor pulled away. The X on his forehead, which had started to glow gently during the action, faded again and I thanked him. Then I took his hand, even though he made a interference noise at the touch, and squeezed it lightly.

"Your hands are ice cold, I can feel it even through the gloves." His eyes briefly looked as if he was fighting an internal battle with himself, then he shook his head and took his hand away from me.

"Everything's fine, my dear. Come on, let's go downstairs before the others wake up. I have something that I definitely have to present to you later."

Hey :-) Thanks Shika for the great idea with the changing POVs, that worked surprisingly well. I now finally have a precise plan for what to do next.

What Alastor wants to present and whether he will manage to avoid Crimson?

Who knows who knows...

All the best, your Catnip

PS: Fun Fact: Lonbraj means shadow (I am so creative)