Cut: A Hazbin Hotel Fanfiction

Chapter 14

WARNING: This chapter has some rather intense violence, included an attempted murder. If you are sensitive to these things, please skip this chapter. If not, read on. You have been warned.

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Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't killed you.

The words shot through my body and seized my throat. I reeled back, gasping. I stared at Alastor, who was still watching me with a dazed seriousness that only the drunk can pull off. Finally I was able to form words. "What do you mean?" I asked, almost choking on the words. I knew his answer wouldn't make sense, yet I still found myself asking the question.

"I mean what I said." He looked away, off into the distance. He began to ramble. "I...I had always thought about it. After you...after we both d-died. When I first heard about you being here...I wondered why you had ended up here instead of...somewhere else. Heaven, maybe. I thought about it. Asking you why you hadn't gone to Heaven, I mean."

I started shaking. I knew why I hadn't gone there -- Iade confirmed my suspicions -- but the question still burned in my mind, along with the pain that came with it. It wasn't fair. "Why?" I heard myself say. "Why would you think about that, ever?" My voice broke on the last word.

Alastor ran a hand over his face, as though he could wipe away the drunken stupor that seemed to be loosening his tongue. Still, he continued speaking. "I never had anything against you. Yo-ou have to believe that. I...I was having a rough day then...my station was losing its popularity, as was I...I was frustrated. I needed a...a release, of sorts. When I found out you weren't...from New Orleans...I decided." It was getting harder for him to form sentences, and the cloud in his eyes was growing larger. He was running out of energy. "I picked you, even though I...I knew it wasn't fair to you. I swear I usually went for those who deserved it, but that time...I made a mistake."

I shakily stood up, stumbled over to the bushes, and retched. Nothing came up, but my stomach kept heaving, sending agony through my body and forming tears in my eyes.

A mistake. I was a mistake.

That hurt more than anything I could have thought of.

I had always thought my death had been sure. The wrong place at the wrong time. I never once thought that I had been killed by a poor decision, that even my killer hadn't thought it through. Even he regretted his decision. Almost a century of pain, all because of a split-second choice, one that was immediately rued. A mistake. An accident. I was an accident, nothing. Not worth having a calculated death.

My entire life was taken away by an accident.

When my vision focused again, I spotted the spear, somewhat concealed in a bush not too far away. My eyes flickered to Alastor. He was still mumbling, unaware of what I was doing. Unaware of my pain, the fucker. The thought came to me, unbidden, and sent rage flooding into me. I staggered over to the bush and pulled the weapon out.

I hadn't noticed my flaming hands until I saw the glow of the fire glinting off the tip of the spear. My anger was dizzying. It was a miracle the bushes hadn't caught on fire.

I turned to Alastor and took a step towards him. "You hurt me," I said under my breath. He didn't notice. The words boosted the adrenaline rushing through my body and building at the hand holding the blade.

Another step. "I've been in pain for almost 90 years." My voice was impossibly calm compared to the emotions swirling inside.

Another. "I never forgot what you did."