Welcome To Hell |:| Hazbin Hotel

I

A/N: Hey everyone, I figured I would rewrite "I" to start off. It'll keep you guys entertained until Hazbin drops, hopefully. All the other chapters will be unpublished but still saved away for me to keep for reference. I hope you enjoy the rewrite!

One minute after ten o'clock. Night time. Closing time.

You sigh, exhausted. Everyday was hard work, but today was especially tiring. Simply put, there were one too many fights.

Being a bartender wasn't easy, but you got great pay out of it, so there's that. Plus, the conversations that could be stricken up were nice.

Owning a bar was rather lively.

Adjusting your tie, you open your eyes and turn from the door to scan the bar. Clean tables, refilled shelf, mopped floor. Check, check, and check.

You smile slightly, turning back to the glass door and pushing it open. The cold night air smacks against your face, blowing your [HairColor] hair like a hanging blanket during a windy day.

One foot at a time, you walk down the local sidewalk, passing apartments and closed retail stores. The sky is void of clouds, broadcasting a beautiful sprinkle of stars.

As you walk farther in the direction of your complex, there become fewer lights. It becomes harder for you to see.

Soon, you end up approaching an alley. A bulky figure in a hoodie leans against the wall, cigarette in his hands.

Ignoring the sudden chill you feel, you tread onwards, hoping to simply pass the suspicious figure.

Of course, luck wasn't on your side tonight.

Before you can even react, the man throws his arm out and grabs the collar of your shirt. He slams you into a brick wall with surprising strength, the oxygen in your lungs abandoning you.

Your back and skull ache. Something cold and sharp is pressed against the top of your throat. The feeling of a warm liquid trickling down the skin of your collarbone becomes painfully noticeable.

"Money," he demands in a gravelly voice. His breath reeks of alcohol and possibly weed.

"O-Of course, p-please, just take it easy..." you stutter, fumbling for the wallet in your back pocket. You take it out as fast and diligently as you could, which wasn't easy with a serrated blade pressed to your throat.

One wrong move would equal the end of it all.

The robber snatched the money from your hands, stuffing it away in the pocket of his hoodie. A grin stretched across his face, barely visible. Two of his teeth were missing.

"Thanks for the donation, bub."

You slightly loosen up. Now that he had the money, he would let you go. That's what you thought, anyway.

He lowers the knife from your face, your hands staying above your head.

Then he strikes. A sharp pain shoots through your abdomen, all the way throughout your body.

It burns. It tingles. It feels like pins and needles. It fucking I'm hurts. Worse than anything you've ever felt before.

The pain was so unreal that you couldn't even just scream. Your mouth opens, but only a weak gasp escapes. The blade is ripped from your gut, causing blood to flow out of the wound.

The mugger laughs with satisfaction and pride, bolting from the scene. Your hand weakly extends, but there's nothing to grab.

Your knees become jello, causing you to fall onto your side. The impact opens the wound.