"You must be her." The gentleman in the center said. His already present smile widening into a toothy grin as he tipped his hat to you. "Enchantée." You recognized his voice as the man who had been doing most of the talking. "Who are you?" You choked out. "You may call me Alastor." He answered simply. "You're going to be coming with us, alright?" "I'm not going anywhere." You said with a sharp tongue and narrowed eyes. "I'm afraid you don't have a choice in the matter." The man sighed. Leather gloved hands brushed back a strand of his hair out of the way of his eyes. Looking over to the taller, more silent fellows of the trio before you he lowered his tone. "Get her in the car. Make sure no one outside is around to see." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This is not your typical Alastor fic, in the sense that in this story he's also a mob boss and not just a radio host. If you're familiar with my work this shouldn't come as too much of a shock but this is probably going to be a very dark tale, that will touch up on some serious life issues and matters that may or may not be suitable/appropriate for all settings and audiences. 18+, graphic depictions such as violence, crude language, substance use/abuse, sexual themes and content, and triggering scenarios ensue: proceed with caution. I own absolutely zero hazbin characters and I certainly don't own you the reader. (Who I write as fem, apologies in advance.)