Vaggie The Moth Babe

Chapter 3: Reflections of the Past

Vaggie stepped out of Charlie's office, her heart still heavy from their conversation. The door clicked shut behind her, but the weight of Charlie's words lingered, hanging over her like a storm cloud she couldn't quite shake. She needed air, space to think.

Walking slowly along the balcony, her sneakers made soft thuds against the polished floor. The familiar hellish cityscape stretched out beneath her, the skyline bathed in the eerie crimson glow of Hell's eternal flames. But Vaggie wasn't really seeing it. Her mind was elsewhere, tangled up in memories and emotions she hadn't let herself think about in a long time.

As she walked, her fingers absentmindedly grazed the stone railing, tracing the cold, rough surface. Her thoughts drifted back—back to the time before everything changed. Before she'd found herself at the Hazbin Hotel, before Charlie had entered her life.

It had been years ago, though it felt like a lifetime. Vaggie had been a different person then—an Exorcist Angel, tasked with cleansing Hell of sinners and keeping order in the chaos. She had been fierce, determined, relentless. But that life had come to a violent end.

She reached the terrace, the cool breeze whipping her hair back from her face. The city below was loud and chaotic, but up here, it felt quieter, more isolated. It was the perfect place to think, to remember.

Vaggie leaned against the stone railing, her mind sinking into that fateful day. The day her wings had been torn from her, and her life had been changed forever. She could still feel the agony, the sharp, searing pain as her wings were ripped away, leaving her broken, bleeding, and abandoned. Her left eye had been taken in that battle too, the deep scar forever etched across her face, a constant reminder of what she had lost.

She had been alone, her body broken, her mind shattered. She had expected to die, to fade into nothingness like so many others before her. But then, there had been a soft voice. A voice she could never forget.

"Hey... are you okay?"

Even now, Vaggie could still remember the way that voice had sounded—so full of concern, so gentle. It had been the first kindness she had experienced in what felt like an eternity. And when she had opened her remaining eye, there she was. Charlie Morningstar, the princess of Hell, her hand outstretched in an offer of help.

Vaggie hadn't known what to make of her at first. She had expected cruelty, maybe even mockery. After all, this was Hell, and she had been an angel—a fallen one at that. But Charlie had been different. She had been warm, caring, and there was a brightness in her that cut through the darkness surrounding them.

Vaggie had accepted her hand, not knowing that in that moment, her life would change forever. Not knowing that the warmth of Charlie's touch would be something she'd crave for the rest of her days.

She still remembered the first time their eyes had met, truly met. Vaggie, broken and bitter, had been trying to hide her pain behind a wall of anger and sarcasm, but Charlie had seen right through it. She had seen the hurt, the vulnerability, and instead of running away, she had stayed. She had stayed and offered kindness in a place where kindness was as rare as hope.

And Vaggie... she had fallen. She had fallen hard.

Leaning over the railing, Vaggie looked out over the city, the memories swirling in her mind like a storm. That moment, that first meeting, had been the beginning of everything. It was when Vaggie had realized she was no longer just fighting to survive—she was fighting for something more. For Charlie. For the chance to build something different, something better.

She touched the red X over her left eye, the mark that symbolized her anger and her past. It had become a part of her, a constant reminder of the pain she had endured, but it was also a reminder of the person she had become since then. Stronger, yes, but also more guarded. And Charlie had seen through all of that.

"I never thought I'd find someone like her," Vaggie whispered to herself, her voice carried away by the wind. "Not here. Not in Hell."

She had been so afraid at first. Afraid to let herself care, afraid that if she did, she would lose Charlie just like she had lost everything else. But Charlie had stayed. She had fought for Vaggie, for the hotel, for all of them. She had given Vaggie a reason to believe in something again.

And now... now Vaggie was terrified of letting her down.

The memory of Charlie's hurt expression flashed in her mind, and Vaggie's chest tightened. She knew she had a temper—she had always had one—but she never wanted it to hurt Charlie. And yet, here she was, letting that very thing drive a wedge between them.

"I need to be better," she muttered, her grip tightening on the railing. "I have to be better. For her."

But how? How could she fight against the rage that had been burning inside her for so long? How could she be the person Charlie deserved when she was still haunted by everything she had lost?

Vaggie closed her eyes, the wind brushing against her skin like a cold whisper. She wasn't that Exorcist Angel anymore. She hadn't been for a long time. But she wasn't just a fighter either. She was something more now—something better.

Because of Charlie.

Her heart ached with the weight of it all, but in that moment, standing alone on the terrace, she made a silent vow. She would try. She would try harder, not just for Charlie, but for herself. She would learn to control the anger, to let go of the pain, and to embrace the love she had found in the last place she ever expected.

With a deep breath, Vaggie stood up straight, her eyes opening to the endless flames below. She wasn't alone anymore. She had Charlie. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to keep the darkness at bay.