Out of Darkness (Alastor x human!fem!reader)

Chapter Four: Fall from Grace

It had been days since Alastor and (y/n) decided to 'take it slow'. A part of him hoped that after she left that night, he would never hear from her again. That she would give him up, meet someone or win a 100-day free holiday and leave, forgetting her phone at home so she couldn't call him either. But each day, she returned, her presence a constant, unsettling reminder that there was something he didn't quite understand happening to him.

Every single day she would come and visit him, having fun little ideas on how to spend their day. One night, she took him to the cinema to watch a newly released horror movie. Horrendous. Who the Hell were Ed and Lorraine Warren? He had never heard of them. If they were that good, he would have. He got so bored that he started thinking about what would happen if he randomly began terrorizing people: would he get a movie too? Hopefully, his would be better. But at some point, he started analyzing (y/n) reactions, rather than the movie: how she'd jump a little bit at the most predictable jump scares and look away in disgust at the gorier scenes. He couldn't help but chuckle a little, winning a mad look from her whenever he would make fun of them.

She also introduced him to a show, "Supernatural". It took him a while to understand that Dean and Sam were not in fact real like the Warrens were, which made him a bit disappointed. They seemed to be more professional. He would've loved to make a deal with them.

So, did he entirely hate those little getaways? Disappointingly, no. This world was already shitty enough, so these little moments made him forget about everything happening to him, how his life was going downwards since he entered that portal. But tonight his last drop of patience slipped.

He had had a horrible day at work. His incompetent coworker, Steve, spilt coffee on him. Normally, he would've just destroyed his soul, smiling at him as he begged for mercy. But he didn't. Instead, he thought the moral thing to do would be to steal his laptop and enter all those ads (y/n) warned him not to click on. So now, Steve's laptop was full of single moms who were ready to fuck. He considered this a small victory... at least until he actually destroys his soul in hopefully less than 20 years with his smoking-three-packs-of-cigarettes-a-day habit.

When he arrived home, he got a message from (y/n) saying that she was taking care of her niece for the night. She asked him if he wanted to come too, but he declined, not being a fan of having brats around him. He felt a bit annoyed at the fact that she abandoned him for such things, so he poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat on the couch, listening to some jazz and trying to wind down. The sugar on the cream was that his neighbour and his wife were trying so hard to bring new souls into this shitty world, that he couldn't even hear the jazz clearly anymore.

It was too much for Alastor, his senses too overstimulated and his patience far gone.

His grip on the glass tightened, breaking it into multiple pieces, his demon form slowly engulfing him, sharp teeth and red eyes slowly replacing his human ones. His antlers pierced out of his head, tingles running down his spine at the sensation.

The lights flickered in the room, exploding one by one, darkness eventually conquering the small apartment. The only source of lightning was his red glowing eyes. The radio started distorting, chuckling and growls filling the room.

"I'm gonna..." he started in between the growls. "I'm gonna kill all of them..."

Alastor burst into laughter, as he crawled on the cold floor. "I will crush their bones and rip them out of their body... One by one..."

His claws gripped at the rug covering the floor, throwing it away harshly, a low growl escaping his mouth as dark tentacles broke out of his back, pain washing over him. He needed to get out of here now.

Using his tentacles, he grabbed a can of paint that was lying in the apartment, dropped it and spilt it, covering his hand with the coloured liquid. Like an animal in pain, he dragged himself across the floor, drawing a huge pentagram in the middle of the room. The candles that (y/n) brought all lit up in unison and shadows placed them perfectly in every corner of the pentagram. His eyes flickered in excitement, a grotesque smile growing on his face as the portal to the other world opened right in front of him. Screams of pain and sorrow invaded his ears, filling him with immense joy. Adrenaline pumped his veins as he approached the portal. This was his chance. His chance to leave before he becomes too weak again.

But he stopped.

He stopped just as he was about to crawl inside the portal.

"Fuck..." he whispered to himself, backing down and getting on his knees, his smile still plastered on his face. The portal in front of him closed, as the candles extinguished themselves one by one, leaving him in darkness and sorrow. His heart was pounding in his chest as he gripped his dark hair. He missed it... His chance to leave... Who knows how long it will take him to build the power to do this again.

He just stood there in silence. Was he weak? No... It wasn't him the problem. It was this world, it was... it was her. She was the problem, not him. She made him weak.

He tried to get up, chunks of hair falling from his hands as he removed them from his scalp. His feet were weakened, making him fall to the ground, and his breath was heavy.

He heard the phone he hated so much ringing, but it slowly got muffled by static. Loud. Persistent. Static.