Is This Really Hell? (Radiodust)

Chapter 4

Angel

After another two days the bills weren't paid, and Angel Dust, knowing it was closer to the deadline, made his move.

The bar he walked into was sick and filled with guys and gals looking for a fight or sex, explaining why it's called the, "Rough House." He knew the bar well, didn't take a genius to figure out he was there often, or at least used to be. The familiar smell hit him hard and made him a little sick at first, but it wasn't something he wasn't used to, just uncommon to his body now.

He walked up to the counter and saw a male lizard demon, who was quite small for being a lizard, cleaning a chipped mug with blood stains on it. Angel looked at him and smiled, "Hey there tough guy," his voice was fluid and seductive, "you want a good time?"

The demon looked at him, "What's the catch?"

Angel Dust smiled widely, "I'm looking at fifty for an hour," his voice was still smooth and tainted with sensual desire.

The lizard looked him over, "Alright, follow me."

<->

Angel spent the whole hour acting somewhat passionate and feeling like he was gonna throw up. Once all was said and done he collected his pay and went off with himself.

He continued on, hour after hour, getting customers and pleasing them. Luckily most never knew who he was before or what he represented, which he found humorous.

When he finally got back, he had collected seven hundred dollars. Four hundred of which was stolen. He was a little proud of himself.

He walked inside not showing how sick he felt, "Hey Charlie!" No response. He stepped deeper into the building and closed the door behind him.

The hotel was so empty. Angel traversed the halls to get to his room. He walked in feeling a little down and put the money in a drawer of a nightstand, provided by the hotel. After hiding all the money and putting the clothes he wore that day into a pile, he went into the restroom and turned the shower on trying to wash away the sickly feeling in his body. The feeling he usually forces away with drugs and alcohol.

As he was in the shower he kept hoping the water didn't shut off on him, his mind running at a slower pace than usual. He grabbed what there was to wash his fuzzy body with, then proceeded to rinse and lather himself, trying to get the stained feeling off of him.

Once he was done he laid in bed, yet the sensation of being warm wasn't coming to Angel as he laid there. The blankets felt heavier than they really were. The walls seemed dark, which was ironic being they were a light red, almost hot pink. Comfort was anywhere, but near the poor demon.

His mind argued that he didn't have to do it, if only Alastor was here. If only the stupid demon hadn't abandoned them, he wouldn't be here.

Though after an hour, he fell to the darkness of sleep.