Touch Me - Radio Fucked The Video Star

The Last Waltz of Valentino

The night air was thick with tension as the oddly appropriate group left the rooftop, their minds set on one thing: finishing the job. Valentino was wounded, on the run, and they had no intention of letting him slip through their fingers.

With the help of Alastor's blackening of the general area if he wanted to, they moved through the shadowed alleys of Hell with practiced precision, completely invisible.

Their footsteps silent, Vox hypnotizing any drunken hobo they might encounter to contain their complete lack of any sound. Their breaths shallow as they followed the faint trail of blood and the occasional feather from Valentino’s torn jacket.

Vox led the way, his expression grim and focused. Alastor was close behind, his sharp eyes scanning every corner for signs of movement. He wasn't smiling. He was hunting. Cherri Bomb and Velvette flanked them, ready for anything, while Angel Dust brought up the rear, his hands trembling slightly as he clutched his gun in one and a cigarette in the other. Angel, wasn't exactly... okay. He was scared, and reliving things in his head while hunting this fucker that did those things to him.

Little did he know...
Vox, and one other among them, were thinking the same thing.

The trail led them deeper into the labyrinth of Hell’s backstreets, away from the bright lights and noise of the city. It was clear that Valentino hadn’t made it far; he was weak, desperate, and likely biding his time, hoping to regroup at his tower. But as they approached the looming shadow of the building, Vox came to an abrupt stop.

“He didn’t go inside,” Vox whispered, his voice barely audible. “He’s hiding. Close.”

Alastor narrowed his eyes, a slow, dark smile spreading across his face. “Clever. But not clever enough.”
The group fanned out, their movements somehow expertly synchronized as they began to search the surrounding alleys. The silence was oppressive, the tension building with each passing second. And then, just as they rounded a corner, there he was. They saw him.

Valentino was slumped against the wall of a narrow alleyway, half-hidden in the shadows. His once pristine red velvet jacket with its white and black fur trim was stained with blood, his sunglasses were gone, and his hat was nowhere to be seen. He looked nothing like the powerful overlord they had watched work with the V's, create and empower them, and build am empire with, he looked like shit. Because that, is what he was.

Now, he was just a broken, desperate demon clinging to the last threads of his life.
Slowly, not knowing what they might encounter or if this was a trap, Valentino’s eyes flicked up as they approached, a mix of fear and defiance in his gaze. “You think you’ve won?” he rasped, his voice weak but laced with venom. “This isn’t over.”

Vox stepped forward, his expression cold, merciless. “It’s over, Valentino. You’re done.”
Vox, was truly the one who was done. Done putting up with this fucker's bullshit. Hard fucking pass.

But before Vox could say anything more, Angel Dust moved past him, his eyes locked on Valentino with an intensity that made the others pause. The usually flamboyant, carefree demon was deadly serious now, his face pale, his hands trembling. The gun in his hand glinted in the dim street light as he approached Valentino, each step filled with purpose.

“Angel…” Vox began, but Alastor held up a hand, stopping him. "No, no... he earned it." Vox stopped and Alastor took his hand as he dropped his own.
Angel Dust knelt down in front of Valentino, his breath hitching as he looked into the eyes of the demon who had controlled and tormented him for so long. His voice, when he finally spoke, was raw with emotion.

“You took everything from me,” Angel whispered, his voice breaking. “You made me into something I never wanted to be. You-” he choked on the words, tears welling up in his eyes. “You took my soul, Valentino. Not just literally... You broke me.”