Hell's Redeemer

Chapter 25

Spawn pushed through the doors of the hotel, his usual grim demeanor softened by a rare sigh of relief. As he stepped inside, the tension from the battle with Striker began to ease, though his mind still buzzed with lingering thoughts of the fight. Several of the hotel’s occupants glanced his way with puzzled expressions. After all, they’d seen him head upstairs earlier—how had he ended up back at the entrance?

Niffty, ever energetic and curious, zoomed over to him. Her bright eye blinked up at him, a mix of confusion and concern.

“What happened to you?” she asked, tilting her head. “You went upstairs, but now you’re back down here all of a sudden!”

Spawn gave a casual shrug, his voice deep and unbothered. “Had some garbage to take care of.”

Niffty’s eye widened, and for a moment, she took his words literally. Her tiny hands flew to her hips, her tone half-joking, half-serious. “Hey! That’s my job! Don’t go stealing my work!”

Spawn glanced at her, unsure if she was actually upset or just playing around, but there was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. He shook his head. “Don’t worry. I’ll leave the real trash for you next time.”

Niffty beamed, completely missing the darker meaning behind his words. “Good! Gotta keep this place clean and spotless, you know!”

As she flitted away, Spawn watched her go, thankful for the brief moment of levity. It was a small break from the constant violence, but he knew it wouldn’t last. The world outside the hotel was always waiting, and with it, the chaos he couldn’t escape.

As Spawn stood in the lobby, his thoughts still settling after the encounter with Striker, he heard soft footsteps approaching. Turning slightly, he saw Charlie, her expression a mix of guilt and concern. She hesitated for a moment, fidgeting with her hands as she came closer, clearly working up the courage to speak.

"Al..." she began, her voice tentative. "I just wanted to say... I'm really sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to push you or make you uncomfortable. I—"

Before she could finish, Spawn raised his hand slightly, signaling her to stop. His gaze was steady, but not unkind. "Charlie," he said, his deep voice cutting through her nervousness, "I know you didn’t mean any harm."

Charlie blinked, caught off guard by his calm response. She’d been expecting more resistance, more walls, but instead, he was giving her a bit of reassurance.

"It’s just..." he paused, searching for the right words. "That part of my life—it’s not something I’m ready to revisit. Not yet."

Charlie nodded slowly, her shoulders relaxing a bit. "I understand," she said softly. "I just felt terrible... I never wanted to hurt you."

Spawn gave her a small nod, a silent acknowledgment that her apology was received. "You didn’t," he said. "But some wounds don’t heal easily. I’ll deal with it when I’m ready. Until then... don’t worry about it."

There was a brief, quiet moment between them. Charlie, despite still feeling guilty, offered him a small, grateful smile. "Thank you for saying that. If you ever need anything, I’m here."

Spawn didn’t respond right away, but there was something softer in his gaze as he looked at her, a silent recognition of her kindness. He turned away, ready to move on from the conversation, but the tension between them had lifted, even if only slightly.
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The broadcast opened with the usual flashy 666 News intro, the camera swooping in on the familiar faces of Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench. Katie's smirk was wider than usual, signaling something juicy.