Well Aren't You A Charmer | Alastor x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Two

I exit my car and head to Mrs. Hartfelt's door. Before knocking on the door I dust off my dress quickly. After a moment there's no answer which leaves me a bit puzzled.

I stand at the door, knocking once more, but still no answer. I then glance around, wondering where Mrs. Hartfelt could be. Alastor told me a while ago there was a spare key under the doormat but would I really walk in unannounced?

After a moment I knock one more time and call out her name before deciding to use the spare key. My hands are slightly shaking as I insert the key into the lock before peeking my head inside. "Mrs. Hartfelt?" I called out.

Everything seems eerily quiet inside the home. I call out Mrs. Hartfelt's name again, but there is still no response. The silence inside is deafening. I make my way inside, making sure to close the door behind me.

"It's (Y/N). Is everything alright?" I continue to call out as I begin to search around the house. I haven't been here too many times but I've been here enough to remember the floor plan.

She has a lovely two story house along with a basement. I've come to love all the decorations and little knickknacks after learning that this was the house Alastor grew up in.

As I move through the house, my heart begins to race. The silence is deafening, and the absence of Mrs. Hartfelt is growing more concerning. I search the first floor, checking each room with increasing urgency.

The lack of any signs of Mrs. Hartfelt leaves me feeling increasingly worried. She doesn't have a car and wouldn't have gone far on foot, especially at this time of day. I can't shake the feeling that something is wrong.

As I round a corner I see her lying lifelessly on the living room floor. A shiver goes up my spine as my eyes widen. "Mrs. Hartfelt?" I squeak out as I rush over to her body.

I kneel beside her, feeling a wave of helplessness wash over me. "Mrs. Hartfelt." I say again, more softly this time, as I reach out to touch her arm. I gently touch her arm, my heart sinking as I find myself unable to rouse her. There is no reaction from her. She feels cold to the touch.

My whole body begins to shake. As my mind races I kneel beside her motionless body, desperation setting in. "No, no, no," I mumble, my voice trembling. I check for a pulse, praying I'll feel something. My heart sinks as I realize I can't feel a pulse.

"No, come on," I whisper, my voice cracking. "Please, please," I beg, desperately trying to find a sign of life. My breath hitches as I desperately look around the room for the landline. I spot it on the wall and run over to it immediately calling for help.

The phone rings, each ring feeling like eternity as I wait for someone to answer. "Come on, come on. Pick up the damn phone." The phone continues to ring as  hold my breath, willing the person on the other end to pick up.

"Please, please... pick up," I mutter, my voice cracking again. The sound of the operator's voice on the other end of the line fills my ears as I let out a shaky breath.

"911, what's your emergency?" the operator asks, sounding professionally calm on the other end. "Please send help." I gasp out. The operator immediately detects the panic in my voice.

"Okay, ma'am, I need you to stay calm and tell me what's going on." The operator replies, their voice now slightly more urgent. I begin to explain everything quickly and give them the address before tears start to stream down my face.

The operator's voice remains calm and collected as I explain the situation, providing all the information they need. "Okay, help is on the way," the operator reassures me. "But I need you to stay on the line with me until they arrive. Can you do that?"

I glance over to her body on the floor as I continue to cry. "Mhm. I... I can do that." The operator's voice provides a steady anchor as I look over at her body on the floor. Tears blur my vision, but I force myself to focus on the conversation.

"Alright, good," the operator says, their voice gentle. "Emergency services are on their way, and they'll be there soon. Just stay on the line with me, okay? Can you tell me your name?"

"My name's (Y/N)." I say quietly. "(Y/N)." The operator repeats. "That's a lovely name. (Y/N), I want you to listen to me carefully. Do you know if there's anyone else in the house?" I shake my head before responding. "No. No one else is here. She lives alone."

The operator's voice remains steady and reassuring. "Okay, it's just you and Mrs. Hartfelt then," the operator replies. "Do you know if she has any existing medical conditions or if she was feeling unwell recently?"

"I'm not sure. I know she's been feeling fine recently though. She hasn't brought up anything at least. Her son would know more." I whimper out. The operator's tone remains empathetic.

"I understand, that's helpful. Do you have a way to contact her son and let him know what's going on?" I nod again. "He should be at work right now."

"Alright, that's good. Can you provide me with his name and workplace? We may need to get in touch with him." The operator requests. I give her Alastor's home phone number as well as his office number as I use my palm to wipe away some tears.

The operator jots down the numbers I provide, confirming the details before responding. "Thank you, (Y/N). We'll reach out to Alastor as soon as possible. Just stay on the line with me, okay? Help is on its way." The operator reassures me.

"Mhm." I utter out as I continue to shake. Please please please let her be alright. "You're doing great, (Y/N). Just take deep breaths and try to stay as calm as possible. Do you want to talk about something to distract yourself while we wait for help to arrive?"

"I guess." The operator's voice is gentle. "Alright, let's take your mind off things then. Is there anything specific you'd like to talk about? How about your job or some hobbies you enjoy?"

"I own a record shop." I hiccup slightly before continuing. "I inherited the shop from my parents. It's been run by my family for ages." The operator hums thoughtfully, engaging me in conversation.

"That sounds lovely. Owning a record shop must be quite a unique experience. Do you have any favourite records that you cherish or any special stories behind some of the albums?"

I continue to wipe away my tears. "Mhm. 'What'cha Got' by Ethel Waters is a really special song I cherish." I begin to think of when I met Mrs. Hartfelt after I say the name of the record, making my eyes water even more.

The operator can hear the emotion in my voice. "That's a beautiful song. What makes it so special to you, if you don't mind me asking?" I begin to ramble on about how I met Mrs. Hartfelt and how it led to me meeting Alastor. I honestly feel bad for the women having to deal with my blubbering mess.

The operator listens patiently as I pour out my story, occasionally encouraging me with sympathetic hums and nods. She does her best to keep me calm amidst my emotional rambling. My head immediately snaps towards the direction of the front door as the police call out. "I think they just arrived." I say meekly to the operator.

The operator hears my comment and immediately responds. "Okay, (Y/N), the officers are there now. I'm going to hand you over to them, all right? They'll take it from here."

"Okay." I breathe out. "Thank you." The operator's voice softens. "You're welcome. And please, remember that it's going to be alright. Help is here now. You've done everything you needed to. I'll pass you over to the officers, take care."

I place the phone back on the receiver as the officers make their way into the living room. The officers enter the living room, their eyes immediately falling upon Mrs. Hartfelt's motionless body. They cast sympathetic glances my way before approaching her body and starting to assess the situation.

My arms immediately wrap around myself as I watch them. The officers begin to carefully examine Mrs. Hartfelt, checking her vital signs and condition. Their faces are professional, but I can see the concern in their eyes.

They work efficiently, speaking among themselves in hushed tones. My eyes dart between them as I try my best to pick up what they're saying but my mind is racing so much I can't focus on what they're saying.

As soon as I see one of the officers shake their head as their head hangs low I immediately lean into the wall, sinking down onto the floor. Oh god no. Please no.