Breaking Damnation (Alastor X Reader)

Chapter 11: Bystander

The technicolor hell that was once known was now drenched in sickly crimson, the streets below paved with the colors of carnage. As though wrath himself had taken form in order to create a macabre masterpiece, forged from blood, tissue, and crushed bone. Mangled bodies lined the pavement, some still squirming, crying, begging for the agony to come to an end. Dark decaying hands reaching to grab hold of flesh and cloth, reaching out for anything that could bring them salvation. Bloodied claws grabbed hold of already shaky limbs, keeping you from running away from the sight that lied before you. Too shocked to move, to scared to fight, they climbed higher. Nail digging into flesh as though the dying souls could pry your essence out of its shell and offer it to death himself. Scorching pain was the only thing to be felt as flesh was slowly torn and peeled away. Unable to react, all that could be done was look ahead at a larger mound of corpses that lied in the distance. A horrid pile that seemed to still be wriggling along with the rest of the bodies around. Suddenly, a new sound broke out above the death rattles and moans of the damned. A dark growl manifested and carried itself through the air, seeming to originate from the dark mass of stacked corpses. Slowly, bodies and flesh were pushed aside by larger claws. A single figure, taller than the rest, pushing itself out of the dark mass and emerging into the dim light. Organs and scraps of flesh falling to the ground as he pulled himself free with only a few scraps still clinging to antlers. The darkness of the shadows came to life and surrounded him, making his monstrous appearance even more frightening. Glowing eyes meet yours for only a moment before a dark cry left his lips. The demon charged forwards with out stretched claws, grinning away at the sight of such helpless pray. The petrification finally broke as you flinched and attempted to move away form the demon. Movement so slow if felt as though a time curse had been placed, true to a nightmare there was no hope in running, no hope in fighting, no hope in escaping. The only thing that you were able to do was scream as claws quickly rushed towards widened eyes. Just as the scorching pain managed to manifest on flesh the image shattered. Eyes shot open and in an instant you were sitting up, mind and body ready to strike out at anything that so much as moved within the darkness. The terror of the nightmare slowly fading as eyes darted about an all too familiar hotel room. Though the fear could dwindle with the sight of familiarity the agitation still lingered. Too close, the day was growing too close and the longer that it went on the more all was feeling uncertain. All the preparations were in place, the bug was planted, the EMP was ready, and the route was planned. Despite that even you knew that planning and execution were entirely different, the mind fearing that all would end up having been for nothing and that you'd just be another body lying in a pool of clotting crimson when the time came. Though your prayers and the prayers of your world had been unanswered for so long deep thoughts could not help but fall into the habitual routine of silently begging for his aid, praying that god or this universes equivalent would take pity on your soul. You knew well though that it was pointless. The only thing that could truly be hoped for was that this cursed waiting game would be over soon.

The days seemed to drag on with the same damned routine, get up, work, come home, spar if there was time, then go to bed. It didn't help that nightmares were becoming more and more frequent as time went by, taking a turn to nearly nightly when there was only 3 weeks before the day, the lack of solid sleep making working hours all the more painful. Attention was divided between doing as work demanded and watching the hotel, either looking for any sign of Valentinos decked out limo or listening for the gunfire that would follow his arrival. The days slowly ticking down further and further till at long last the clock ticked down to 229 days before the extermination. 14 days before the season finally it finally happened. That horrid yet familiar chill took hold of skin once again, slithering its way up your spine and wrapping around your very core as though trying to constrict the life out of you. Time moving in slow motion as you watched that all too familiar limo drive past the shop and slow down as it turned to go in front of the hotel. The very soul seeming to take a blow as you watched from a distance, as you watched the doors slowly open. A small line of pink smoke slowly slipped out and spread, acting as a make shift rolled out carpet as a towering figure slowly stepped out into the light. Thoughts recalling how his arrival went down in that episode. He'd past a few unheard words to the driver before his girls hopped out and to his side, each one clinging to him as they began to walk towards the hotel. He'd portray a warm and concerned facade, asking if Angel was there and if he was alright. Though Vaggie would insist that he wasn't the spider would eventually hear the commotion and see his former boss. "Angie honey, you haven't been to the studio for a while. I was getting worried about you babycakes. I was starting to think that someone had gone and hurt my sweet little angel~" claws dug into the countertop as thoughts recalled his mind games. Using his sickly sweet words in order to try and coax his toy into believing that he was genuinely concerned, had the girls not dragged him away and stood by him the poison laced within those words might have gotten him once again. That very poison soon exposing itself when it was denied for too long. Those sickly sweet words of nothingness would turn harsh quickly. He'd soon lash out at Angel, saying that he owed his success to Val, that he'd be nothing without him, that no one else would ever give a damn about him. He would try to make the poor spider feel as though he owed his very existence to his pimp. That bastard acted as though he owned Angels very soul. "Marty" though you didn't mean for your words to hold a growl to them the frustration at the memory and the thought of what was to come was testing nervs. "What do you want now?" he questioned as he poked his head around the corner "I hate to drop this on you out of the blue but after this shift I'll be out for about three weeks" you said bluntly. He let out a small disappointed huff "Seriously? Fine then but don't be surprised if your spots taken if you happen to come back" you could understand why he was a bit pissed but you were positive that even a few hour warning was a rarity in hell. "That's fine with me" you replied. No sooner had he dived back into the kitchen ears heard the sound of rapid gunshots. Your own stomach turning as the episode replayed itself in your mind. A hail of bullets back and forth as both sides tried to keep the other pinned down, Vals side whores trying to get a hold of Angel but instead getting pumped full of bullets. The stalemate only ending when amo was running low, the king pimp almost succeeding till Charlie showed off her more demonic colors. Val would be backing down when Alastor finally arrived to the party, just making in time to throw the king pimp and his side bitches out. The end being seen from a new angel as you watched him curse out the others and step back into his limo. The one girl practically being thrown inside due to the slowness from a mangled leg. "So this is it" thoughts silently whispered "I'm officially out of time. The next event is the kidnapping and finally..." eyes trailed away from the window and down at the claws that had added another small scratch to an already tattered counter. Though you would have been happy to just walk out of the shop mid shift to return as soon as the scuffle was over you remained till Marty decided to close the shop, it was the very least that you could do given all the help he had been. There was no more time to waist. The moment you bid what would more than likely be your last farewell, and were out the door, you started sprinting towards the entrance of the hotel. The glass windows that had been shattered with the gunfight were already patched up with tarps, one of them already being replaced by Nifty. Rushing inside eyes fell upon the aftermath of the mess, bullet holes lining the walls and newly replaced furniture while a few of the pictures that Charlie had brought along were still lying on the floor among a pile of glass. Though you had seen this multiple times before the sight Charlie laying across the desk with her head in Vaggies lap still hurt. She looked so tired and miserable. "Are you two ok?" though the answer was known a small part of you hoped that you'd somehow be able to help them, to help drive away the dark thoughts clouding the princesses head. "We're fine, just a bit tired" Vaggie quickly replied. There was more than that, even someone who hadn't seen it before could tell, the other incidents didn't leave the princess in such a state. Though you could not say it aloud you knew that the princess felt as though everything was her fault, that her blabbing about angel on TV lead them to this issue. There was nothing that you could say however that hadn't already been said, Vaggie was already comforting to the best of her abilities and Angel had already told her that Val would have found out anyways. The only thing that she needed was rest, rest and time to prepare for an upcoming battle. As did you. Gazing over, eyes caught hold of the radio demon lingering in the doorway. Those bright eyes of his looking over the chaos and misery with delight.

For once all was still as you returned to your all too familiar den, no dark chill or unseen eyes to follow along this time around as you walked down the hall. The same baron room greeting you as it did before for so many nights in a row. Empty, cold, hollow just like the rest, a horrid contrast to the world that lingered just beyond the walls of the hotel. Walking into the bathroom for the same nightly routine everything  Eyes once again meet that damned reflection as you went about getting ready for bed. Loyal to the end the mirror only reflected what you had turned into, the human that you had seen before long gone. The only thing that looked back at you was a broken and shattered form, a humanoid creature the only thing gazing back at you. Darker thoughts of doubt slowly swelling from within, the thoughts you tried to repress emerging once again as eyes gazed back at themselves. "You're a simple demon messing with overlords" "No powers" "You're going to die trying." There was always the doubt, the feeling that you were just going to be marching towards your death. A simple sinner who hadn't even learned to further bring out their inner demon for a power boost tangling with overlords and royalty who had decades to gain and master power that mortals could never hope to hold. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you wanted to kill, you wanted to do something, anything to try and relieve the emotions that swelled within. The confusion, the anger, the fear, the worry, the determination, and the longing bursting at the seems and threatening to tear you apart from within. The body moved on it's own, knuckles colliding with the fragile reflection. Glass splintering and burying itself within flesh sending small sparks of pain echoing throughout your arm. The shattered mirror reflecting that anger right back at you, the image presented looking far more menacing and animalistic with your own crimson slowly trying to follow along the cracks. Thoughts once again lashed out at themselves. "I'm dead anyways" you softly whispered "I might as well try and leave an impact."